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spidermans-l-o-v-e-r · 11 days ago

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Elf, 2003

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word count: 4.9k

Notes: Guys it’s 4:15 in the morning, I’m up gaming with my friend

Tony’s annual Christmas parties were always amazing, you watched as they worked on getting the absolutely enormous Christmas tree ready in the center of the room. It was going to be a fun night that was for sure…except for one little detail.

“Are you kidding me?” you looked at the heavy envelope in your hands, not wanting to open it because you freaking knew what was in it. Every year a different person on the team was selected to play Mrs. Claus in Tony’s grand entrance… and there were absolutely no exceptions. Last year it was Peter, and he went all out with it, kitten heels and all, He begged Tony to bring in the best to help him get into drag.

Which incidentally was how you’d met Ru Paul. Which was possibly the greatest moment of your entire life, meeting true royalty.

Bucky stands next to you by the railing, watching the tree going up.

“Hey, everyone has to take a turn” He shrugs and you glare at him

“I’ve been around how long? I don’t see you taking a turn”

“You think for one second. I’m going to get my ass in a dress”

You lean backward to check him out and he smacks your arm

“Fuck off”

You snicker and turn around, placing your elbows on the railing and letting your head hang back for a second.

“You should ask Steve to help by the way” He looks down, tapping his fingers together.

“Why would I do that?” You blush a little, looking away and he rolls his eyes.

He was Steve’s wingman to the end of the line, which occasionally meant getting two lovesick idiots to realize how they felt about each other.

“Because he’s had his hand in show business”

“Wow seriously??”

“Ask him how many times he’s punched Hitler”

A half-hour later you’re in Steve’s room, it’s simple and clean, which you definitely expected of him. He told you to make yourself at home after you’d told him what Bucky said, and that he just had to go ask him a question real quick.

You wander around a little bit, not being nosy but definitely poking around a little. It smells good in there, his scent clings to everything and you find yourself dragging your fingers along the clothes in his closet before selecting one of the large hoodies and taking it off the hanger. You wrap yourself up in it, walking over to the full-length mirror and checking yourself out.

Steve is a monster of a man and his clothes reflect that. The hoodie hangs on your body and you stare at the mirror, imagining that being the only thing you’re wearing. How he’d unwrap you like a present as you laid beneath him. You sink to your knees and bat your eyelashes at your reflection, pretending to be looking up at his tall form… you wonder if he’d wrap your hair around his fist…using your face for his pleasure?

Too bad he didn’t feel the same tension you did.

Suddenly he comes back panting, breaking you from your thoughts as he races into his room and slams the door shut, you jump at the loud thud from the other side of the door.

“Steve??”

Bucky was shouting something in a language you definitely didn’t understand and Steve looked over at you.

“It’s cool, don’t worry about it, What are you doing on the floor?”

You wait until you think Bucky stormed off and got up from the floor, walking over to the little kitchenette in Steve’s room.

“I tripped?” You don’t sound convincing at all, but he goes along with it, and you’ve never been more glad he decided not to question things.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh! So I thought we could have some tea?” You quickly change the subject, picking up the futuristic-looking tray and come over to the sitting area, setting it down on the coffee table

“Sounds good to me” He sits next to you, taking the pot from your hands and pouring two cups, he drops a few sugar cubes into yours and pours a stupid amount of cream in, before handing you the cup and saucer.

If it’s not tan it’s not right.

“So what did you need help with?” He takes his own, plain, and sits back on the couch, crossing one leg over the other. He balances the cup and saucer on his leg so perfectly, that you’re almost envious of it.

“So I don’t know if you know,” You take a sip before setting your cup down and grabbing the envelope from the couch, looking at it. “But it’s my year to be Mrs. Claus”

Steve takes a suspiciously long sip from his tea before setting it down and taking the envelope from you. Inside is everything you’re supposed to do, a little packet of your script, your schedule, and the place where you can pick up the dress Tony bought you.

“That’s… elaborate”

“I know!! I’m worried I’m gonna mess it up and scar some kid for life!!” You fall back on the couch, smacking a pillow over your face and Steve chuckles, rubbing your thigh soothingly. You’re glad your face is covered so he doesn’t have to see the intense blush he’s causing.

“Well, you won’t be scarring any kids, this is an adult party, remember? So really you’ll just be traumatizing a bunch of adults!”

You kick his leg and he laughs, his hand coming down heavy on your thigh. Seriously what was with him and your thighs?? Maybe he was a thigh man, he kinda seemed like it, when you thought about it, late at night, in the comfort of your own bed…

Anyway.

“Can you please just help me learn my lines and get the stupid dress” You sit up, tossing the pillow at him and he catches it, setting it to the side.

“Of course I’ll help you”

If there’s one thing you’ll say about Steve… he’s extremely organized. As soon as you’re done pouting on his couch he pulls out an old-fashioned chalkboard. You blink slowly, your brain churning immediately with joke after joke and he launches a pillow at your head.

“This board has helped save your ass more times than you know. Give it some respect!”

You bow down to it a couple times before putting your hands in your lap

“Okay. Go”

“Smartass” He mumbles under his breath and you giggle, grabbing your telepad to copy his board.

“We should first list out all the things you need to do, and what days you should have them done by”

You copy it down in a nice pink color, he told you it was best to color-code things. As he’s writing you find yourself staring at that poor, poor, shirt doing its best to keep him modest. His waist is so slutty, he probably doesn’t even understand it. You wet your lips, trailing your eyes down appreciably when he suddenly turns around.

“Did you hear me?”

“Huh??” You break out of the perverted prison that is your mind and look at his face

“I said did you want me to come with you to get the dress?”

“Isn’t it kinda odd Tony is making me pick the dress up? I’d have thought he’d have it sent here and fitted.

Steve goes through the packet, finding the dress information “I thought so too… but he says apparently the people there can tailor it for you on the spot… and that it’s a pretty nice place”

“I mean I guess…” you shrug “We can go whatever time works for you, I’d love it if you came with”

“Alright, I suppose we can do that tomorrow around two? We should do that the soonest just in case there’s a lot of alterations to be made”

“Sounds good to me… what else?”

Steve plans out your entire week for you, down to the last minute. He makes three contingency plans and even has an idea of where to get a backup dress in case something happens to yours. You get up from the couch and go over to him as he stands aside, you look over your notes and the board, making sure it’s all in order and showing him.

“Looks like we’re gonna be glued together” You nudge him playfully and he blushes a little

“If that’s okay with you. I know I kind of, inserted myself into the plan a lot”

“Steve,” you roll your eyes, putting your hand on his chest. You can practically feel his heart beating “I asked for your help, of course, you’re going to be a huge part of things”

Crime apparently knows to stop for Christmas because you haven’t been sent out once. Steve stayed with you all day helping you learn your lines and he had absolutely no problem with this.

Truth is, he liked being around you. And Bucky constantly wanted to harass him for it because he wouldn’t just make a freaking move?

The lingering glances, and giggling at all of his jokes, Sam and Bucky even devised an incredibly stupid genius plan to make sure you were sitting by him on the couch constantly. Eventually, he loosens up, putting his arm around your shoulders when you sit together, putting you in his lap when “Oh no! There’s not enough room for you”

He has really…really embarrassing friends.

And he didn’t miss the way you were wearing one of his hoodies, the way you stayed all snuggled in it, a little part of him hoped you liked it, liked him.

He was embarrassed to admit seeing you on your knees had done something to him. He dreamed about what you’d look like, on your knees, hair wrapped around his fist, stuffing his cock down your throat, tears streaming down your pretty face.

He wondered if you felt the same way? If you felt the electricity in the air whenever you two looked at each other?

“Dude. What are you thinking about?” Sam stops moving around, letting his gloved hands drop and Steve blinks

“Huh??” He looks around and Sam is pulling off his gloves and taking off his helmet

“You’re my friend man, I love you, but uh excuse me if I say you’re not exactly my type” He nods downward and Steve looks down with him. His cock is rock hard, straining against his sweatpants and he blushes darkly, putting his gloves in front of his pants.

“Crap. Shit. Sorry,” He turns away, shucking off his gloves and walking away to put them up.

“It’s fine… it happens. You’re going out with Y/N after this right?” Sam puts his gloves back on the hooks and Steve rolls his eyes

“Yeah…why?”

“You sportin’ that for her?” He snickers and Steve shoves him before walking away

“I’m gonna go shower”

“Yeah make sure you rinse it out real good when you’re done!”

Steve leans against the wall as he waits for you in the garage, his shower had been less than relaxing and more of a way to try and get you out of his head long enough to be in a small space with you.

His head turns at the sound of your footsteps coming down the hallway. You smile as soon as you see him, and he melts. You’re in his hoodie, he hadn’t even realized you didn’t give it back and a pair of black leggings. You’re wearing your uniform boots and you’ve got a cute mini backpack.

“Hey sorry I took so long” you smile at him, “I couldn’t find the hairclip I wanted”

He looks down at you, giving you a once over “You look nice” he says, his voice a little deeper than normal and you blush.

“Oh thanks”

“Shall we?” He takes your hand, leading you over to the car that is waiting to take you to the tailors. He opens the door for you, helping you in and you scoot over, so he can get in with you. For one of Tony’s cars, you realize it’s not as spacious as you thought it would be? You find yourself incredibly close to Steve, his warm body keeping you nice and toasty and you’re not even leaning into him. He makes sure you have your seatbelt on before tapping the window for the driver.

“I wish he’d have just let me drive,” Steve says “I’m not too into the idea of having a driver”

You look at your telepad, moving closer to him so that he can see it too and he puts his arm over your shoulders, something he’d gotten used to doing and something you were hoping he would do.

“Well we kind of have a lot to get done today, maybe he just wanted to make sure we wouldn’t tire ourselves out?”

“I suppose”

You stay cuddled into his side the entire ride, showing him things on your telepad, both of you editing a few things in the schedule. He dips his head low, mumbling in your ear things to erase, things to add. The way his breath ghosts over your ear sends a shiver down your spine. His fingers find their way to your side, tracing little shapes onto the bare skin where your shirt has ridden up.

“Hey my shoes are gonna be there..too…right?” Your voice trails off as you look up at him, his face is so close to yours, that you can feel his soft breaths fanning over your face as you look into each other’s eyes. His are such a pretty shade of blue, they remind you of the waters back on your home planet.

“They should be… yeah,” He says quietly, your lavender eyes send chills down his spine every time he sees them, you rarely show them, and with your ability to hide the odd color you normally leave them brown. So he likes it when he has the chance to see the pretty shade of purple they normally are.

“Hey, Y/N?” He asks quietly

“Yeah?” Your voice is just as quiet as he is. He reaches out, cupping your face gently and you lean into him, smiling softly.

“Can I…can I ki-“

Suddenly the car comes to a stop, parking outside the giant building and you and Steve break apart as the door on your side is opened. You squeeze Steve’s hand before stepping out of the car and thanking the man who shuts the door behind you both before getting back in.

“You ready?” You ask and he takes your hand again, pulling you into the large building

“Where do you think we should-“

Before you can even finish your sentence a man comes up to you, dressed absolutely flawlessly and suddenly you feel wildly underdressed.

“Mr. And Mrs. Rogers right? Oh, you two do look adorable together! Tony said to bring you up right away”

Your mouth gapes, opening and closing and you look up at Steve who’s just as bewildered. He gestures awkwardly and you both follow the man to the elevators.

“I’m Jerry, I’ll be your designer for today” he introduces himself and goes through the steps for the fitting and what will be expected.

“Tony gave us your measurements but I asked for you to come here to make sure it’s perfect, You know? This is the biggest event of the season”

“Uh, I guess so, I think so” You nod along.

“Are you nervous? I know I would be, god could you imagine having to get up in front of all those people for one of Tony’s entrances? Hell, I practically am! That’s my work you’re gonna be wearing”

“How will you sleep tonight?” Steve chimes in and you turn around, glaring at him and he snickers. You all exit the elevator to a large room, there’s a pedestal in the middle where a beautiful dress sits off to the side and a pair of matching heels.

“Oh my god” Your hands cover your mouth as he walks you up to it, you walk in a circle, inspecting the gorgeous dress, and sigh.

“Oh…oh it’s beautiful”

“That’s stunning” Steve breathes and Jerry looks between the two of you for a second before walking over to the dress and starting to take it off the mannequin.

“Why don’t you help her into it, hubby? It’s very easy to slip on”

He hands it to Steve who looks like he’s going to die if he even breathes on it

“Uh no no I’m- no I’m not her-“

“He-he’s not my hus-“

“Off you two go!” Jerry puts the heels in your hand and pushes you off to the dressing rooms

“Why don’t you try the first part of the dress? There’s a clasp that makes it into the shorter dress you’ll be wearing for the evening, it attaches to your waist. We made it as easy as possible to figure out!”

With that he shuts you and Steve in the changing room, you hear the sounds of the door locking and you look up at Steve.

“Just let us know when you’re ready!”

You wait until you hear Jerry’s retreating footsteps before putting the dress carefully on the provided hanger.

“So I guess Jerry thinks we’re married, that's fun” You smirk as you set your bag down. It’s a good-sized dressing room, there's more than enough room for the both of you in here and then some.

“I can step out, if you'd like” Steve is practically sweating bullets at this point and he’s praying you don't notice, he's too in his head to even realize you’re doing the same thing.

“I think this dress was made to need two people to get into it” You smile sheepishly as you remove your hoodie and place it on the fancy chair. That's when it occurs to you just how this room is set up because there's another pedestal in the center and the chair is directly in front of it. You scoot the chair over a bit to make it less suggestive and Steve takes a deep breath.

“I think we can handle a little awkwardness… We’re the Avengers! We’ve been through worse situations right?”

“Right!” You agree quickly. “We can handle this”

“Alright. Let's figure out how to get you into this, why don’t you disrobe and I’ll get the dress ready?”

“Okay”

He turns his back to you and you gulp quietly before removing your shirt, before you’d left Nat had come in with a little box and a wink and literally said nothing else. Was it weird? Oh yeah definitely. But as you take your clothes off you’re suddenly glad you agreed to wear the new lingerie set she’d given you. It’s dark blue, lacy, and sheer and you’re feeling pretty confident in it as you look at yourself in the mirror.

“I’m ready” You look over your shoulder and Steve turns around

“Alright, I think I’ve figured out how to disconnect the-“

He stops mid-sentence, his mouth falling open before he quickly shuts it, he clears his throat a couple times and continues, squaring his shoulders and looking straight into your eyes.

“I think I’ve figured out how to disconnect the long part of the dress” he pulls apart the snaps and puts the long part back on the mannequin then turns to you, holding it out.

“Uh, here you can just- uh- here” He gets on one knee, holding the dress open for you and you walk over to him, putting your hands on his shoulders and stepping into the dress. He pulls it up and secures it around your waist then helps you into the sparkly red heels that match and looks up at you.

“Does uh… does that feel okay?” He asks, his hands firmly on your hips and you nod. He stands up slowly, towering over you, and helps you into the spaghetti straps. His hands trail over your sides and he reaches for the zipper, closing you into the dress.

“You ready to see yourself?”

You nod again, unable to speak and he steps aside, taking your hand and leading you up to the pedestal. You step up and the lights automatically go down around you, leaving you in the spotlight. It suddenly moves you forward closer to the mirrors and you squeak. Steve holds your hand tighter, keeping you steady, and lets it go once the platform stops moving.

“Holy shit” You whisper, because this dress is truly a work of art. The white trim around the neckline and hem seems otherworldly soft. You do a little spin and it poofs up like a princess dress, making you giggle. The skirt is a deep red, it’s very full, making it fall down to about the middle of your thigh. The top is a sweetheart neckline with boning and white stitches outlining the entire thing.

“How do I look?” You look at Steve in the mirror, his eyes are clouded and lusty as he looks into yours. He shifts a little discretely adjusting his jeans as best he can, trying to focus on you and not the growing bulge in his pants.

“I don't think I've ever seen anything more beautiful than you right now” his voice is low and seductive.

You step off the pedestal and the lights come back up slowly, but not all the way, it’s weird but you ignore it in favor of staring at the gorgeous man in front of you who just called you beautiful.

“You really think so?” You murmur and he nods, reaching his hand out to place on your waist. He pulls you flush against him and places his other hand on your waist, holding you close.

“I really really think so. You’re, you’re really-“ He gets too flustered to speak and you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I’m really…?” You encourage him and he blushes, right to the tip of his ears, the tension in the room is heated and lusty, you can feel it flowing over you in thick waves.

“Uh… sexy. I think I think you look very sexy. And I think that’s what uh- Jerry was trying to achieve with this part of the dress and- and he did it. Very classy, very…very sexy”

“You have such a way with words Mr. America” You giggle and he leans in, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“That’s Captain America to you, civilian”

“You know I was first prime on my planet right?” You whisper, toying with the front of his shirt

“And?” His hands smooth over your sides, gripping you possessively, like he just has to be holding you, like he wants to feel you and it sends a thrill through your body

“Oh, It means I outrank you…by a lot. Think of me as a General”

“You? A General? The same girl I had to pull out of the quicksand because you wanted to see if you could swim in it???”

“I think you’re forgetting the part where I could swim in it”

“Uh huh and you’re forgetting the part where I had to drag your ass out with a rope because you couldn’t get out”

“Just keepin’ you on your toes”

“Right, right let’s maybe not do that huh?”

You snicker and he rolls his eyes playfully, before looking at you again

“Permission to speak freely, General Sir?”

“Permission granted, Captain”

“Did you… did you wear the uh…um” He clears his throat and you tilt his chin down to look at you

“Use your words, Captain”

Your words shoot straight down to his cock, he can feel it throbbing in his pants, already rock solid and he licks his lips unconsciously. You slide your hand down his chest, stopping at his belt and tugging on it a little and he groans.

“Did you wear that lingerie on purpose?”

“I did yeah” You slowly start to unbuckle it, giving him time to stop you but he doesn’t and you smile up at him.

“It really uh- really brings out the color of your eyes” His voice cracks and you giggle, holding his pants up around his waist and he looks down at you.

“Are we really about to do what I think we’re about to do?”

“Only if you want to,” you tell him honestly and he takes your hands, putting them around his neck and letting his pants drop. His hands are at your sides, snapping the clips for your skirt and laying it on the chair as nicely as he can while you push down his boxers, and your mouth waters when his cock springs free.

“Oh I definitely want to”

He hooks his fingers in your panties and tugs them down your legs, tossing them aside. Then he’s pulling you over to the mirrors, pressing you into them as he lines up with your entrance. You squirm, feeling his thick cock head nudging at your hole.

“Oh Stevie” you gasp softly and he groans at your eagerness, he thrusts shallowly, teasing you, stretching you slowly. He can feel your pretty pussy begging for his cock, begging to be used and it takes every ounce of self-control he has not to slam into you immediately.

He grips your hips, working you on his cock for a minute before sinking into you. Inch by mind-blowing inch, he just keeps coming as he presses into you. Once you’re sure you’re about to pop he finally stops, groaning as he keeps his hips still, savoring the tight flutters of your walls around his cock. You’re so warm and inviting, the feeling of being buried deep inside you making him dizzy with need.

He finally pulls out teasingly slow, dragging the length of his cock almost all the way out before thrusting back in hard and you yelp, grinding your hips down on his cock

Steve sets a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against you as he drives into you again and again. Your eyes roll back in your head as you lean your head into his shoulder, your thighs shaking weakly.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his teeth and tongue leaving marks on your skin as he loses himself in the pleasure. One hand slides up to palm your breast, kneading the soft flesh and pinching your nipple.

You like that, baby? He growls, and your toes curl at the vibrations sent through your body “You like feeling my cock stretching you open?”

His other hand moves between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles around the sensitive bud, you keen softly and his trails from your breast to your neck squeezing gently

“Shhh pretty girl, you don’t want everyone hearing us right?”

You shake your head as he thrusts into you wildly, his cock pounding into your g spot over and over, making you see stars, You feel that deep familiar pressure starting to simmer at the surface as he smacks your clit, you jump and he chokes the whimper from your throat, keeping you nice and quiet.

“Fuck you feel better than I ever imagined” His voice cracks, and he lets out a whimper as his thrusts become erratic, he rubs your clit faster, bringing you hurdling to the edge with him, and you both cum. Your cunt squeezes tightly around his fat cock, milking him dry with each harsh thrust into you as he bites down on your shoulder, trying to keep himself quiet.

He fucks you through your orgasm, your legs dangling as he lifts you onto his cock, he just keeps cumming and cumming, it spills down your thighs as he stuffs you full, his orgasm crashing over him in intense waves. You kick off your shoes to save them watching the way his cum drips down your thighs, dripping from your toes onto the hardwood floors.

Steve staggers over to the chair, collapsing down on it and holding you close to his chest, both of you panting into each other. You kiss him softly, trailing wet kisses down his jaw and he smiles, letting his head fall back.

“You think they heard us?” He asks quietly as you suck a pretty bruise onto his neck. His fingers trail over the bruises on your hips, trying to soothe them and you shrug.

“I’m not sure…this room seems pretty secure”

“We’ve also been in here for like…half an hour”

You groan embarrassedly and bury your face in his neck “Maybe they don’t know?”

“We’ll just tell Jerry we couldn’t figure out how to get it on” Steve offers and you relax into his arms, nodding along.

“Yeah okay, that should work”

“Actually it won’t.”

You shriek as Jerry unlocks the door and a little tea cart is pushed in with a stick. There’s a new set of lingerie for you, that suspiciously matches the dress and a new set of boxers for Steve, that also suspiciously matches your dress. There’s a stack of warm towels, three packages of baby wipes, and a wastebasket.

“Whenever you’re ready darlings!”

He doesn’t lock the door this time and it all comes crashing down on you.

“They planned this didn’t they” You whisper in horror and Steve looks back at the cart, there’s more than enough supplies to…clean things up and he knows Bucky had a hand in this as well.

“They did, yeah.”

#words by rhys #rhys writes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #Marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel fandom #marvel mcu #mcu fandom #tony stark #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #kinkmas 2024 #rhyskinkmas24

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scarletqueenx · 3 months ago

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chapter six - a very supernatural christmas

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: Dean and you had dated for a few months before his father disappeared and his journey with Sam began. Now, having made a deal to save his brother's life and with only a year to live, Dean considers reconnecting with the only girl he's ever had feelings for. You.

Author’s Note: English is not my first language. This is my first time writing in the readers perspective, as i'm used to write oc´s.

series masterlist

Henry Holloway hated Christmas. Well, he hadn't always hated them, in fact it was his favorite holiday, until his wife died on that tragic May night in 1994. From then on, Christmas became a nightmare. Everything reminded him of Laurel and Carter. Because they were both the biggest Christmas lovers, unlike you, whose favorite holiday had always been Halloween, and not just because it was your birthday.

Still, you had made sure to always celebrate Christmas so your little brother could experience a normal life. Receiving presents from Santa Claus like the rest of the kids, decorating the tree, baking cookies and watching movies. But since he was born, Peter couldn't remember a Christmas with his father. Henry always left the house during that month, leaving you and Peter alone. Well, in the care of a family friend.

"You spent Christmas with Bobby?" Dean couldn't believe your words. You nodded with a smile on your face, your arms resting on the back of the front seats of the Impala where Sam and Dean were sitting.

"Until I was 15, then I don't really know what happened. Bobby didn't come back that year nor the following and I became the adult in the house." You explained.

"That's weird."

"Something must have happened between them." Sam commented, turning to face you. You shrugged, not having an answer.

"Yet Henry called him when you disappeared." Dean pointed out.

"My father is not a hunter. I think Bobby is the only one he knows. He had no choice." You said.

You had been traveling with the Winchester brothers for almost three months. And after spending so much time with them and accepting them as part of your family, you knew that losing Dean would be much harder than you had first thought.

Now, three days before Christmas, the three of you were on your way to solve a new case. This had been the first year in a long time that Henry Holloway hadn't left his home on the last day of November. However, he was going to do it sooner or later. Peter had called you numerous times, frightened to be alone during this time of the year. You hated being away from him, and hated even more having to tell him that you wouldn't be able to make it in time to be with him on the 25th, so you had spent the last few days trying to convince your father to behave himself and stay by his side for the holidays.

So while Dean and Sam investigated and questioned the victim's family, you decided to stay at the motel so you could talk to your father.

"I know I should stay with him. But I see your mother everywhere during these days, it's like her ghost is haunting me." Henry explained as he ran a hand over his face in frustration.

"You burned her remains." You reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. But what if there's something left..."

"Dad, no ghost has shown up at that house during the Christmas that Peter and I have spent by ourselves." You cut him off. "Mom's ghost isn't haunting you. Okay? Peter can't spend Christmas alone..."

"He's 14 years old."

"Exactly, and you're his father. Act like it." You complained. "I've already spent his birthday away from him and he's spent mine away from me, don't do this to him."

"Maybe I can call Bobby..." Henry mumbled to himself, but still you were able to hear him.

"Forget it, Dean told me he was on a hunt." You said. "Dad..."

"I can't do it." He interrupted you. "I can't. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I know I'm disappointing you and him, but... I hear your brother's laugh from when he was little, running around the house covered in flour from the cookies he used to make with your mother. I see you, still innocent, decorating the tree while dancing to Christmas songs. Last Christmas by Wham was your favorite. And... I see her. And it hurts."

"It hurts us all."

"I'm sorry I'm not the father you hoped for."

"You are." You assured. "You were for 10 years. You still are, I know you are."

"No. That man died alongside your mother that night."

Before you could say anything to refute his words, Henry ended the call leaving you clueless as to what to do to make sure your brother didn't spend Christmas alone. An idea quickly popped into your head just as Dean and Sam began sending you the information they had gathered on the case.

With a quick search, you managed to obtain Maddie Lockhart's phone number. You didn't have any friends or family to call other than Dean, Sam and Bobby, so Maddie was your only option.

"I don't know. I told you I don't want anything to do with this." Maddie complained after hearing your request.

"You just have to spend Christmas with him. One week, until after New Year's. My father will come home then." You insisted.

"You hardly know me."

"Come on, I can read people, I'm a hunter. You're not a killer. And Peter will run all the necessary tests to make sure you're human before he lets you in the house. He's very thorough, believe me."

"Okay. I'll do it. But you owe me one." Maddie finally agreed.

"Whatever you want." You assured, letting out a sigh of relief.

After that Freya went back to research, hanging pictures of different demons that might fit with what happened in that city on one of the walls of the room, opening several of the books you had taken from your house and looking for information on Sam's laptop.

"So, was I right? Is it the serial-killing chimney sweep?" Dean asked you, carrying a brown paper bag.

"Yep. It's, uh, it's actually Dick Van Dyke." You answered, causing Sam to chuckle.

"Who?" Dean looked at you two in confusion.

"Mary Poppins?"

"Who's that?" He frowned.

"Oh, come on. I thought movies were your specialty." You frowned. "Never mind. Did you guys find anything else?"

"Well, it turns out that Walsh is the second guy in town grabbed out of his house this month."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

"The other guy get dragged up the chimney, too?" You frowned.

"Don't know." Sam answered. "Witnesses said they heard a thump on the roof."

Dean nodded, sitting down on the couch as he turned his attention to you.

"So, what the hell do you think we're dealing with?" He asked.

"Actually, I have an idea." You admitted.

"Yeah?" Dean raised his eyebrows with interest.

"Uh, it's gonna sound crazy."

"What could you possibly say that sounds crazy to us?"

"Um... evil Santa." You replied with a nervous smile.

Dean paused, sharing a glance with his brother before turning his eyes back to you as he nodded. "Yeah, that's crazy." He stated.

You rolled your eyes, looking at Sam before getting to your feet and grabbed one of your father's books to approach Dean.

"Yeah... I mean, I'm just saying that there's some version of the anti-Claus in every culture." You explained, showing Dean some evil Santa pictures. "You got Belsnickel, Krampus, Black Peter." You turned to Sam the show him the book too. "Whatever you want to call it, there's all sorts of lore."

"Saying what?" Dean asked.

"Saying... back in the day, Santa's brother went rogue and now he shows up around Christmas time, but instead of bringing presents, he punishes the wicked."

"By hauling their ass up chimneys?"

"For starters, yeah." You looked him in the eyes as Sam took a step back as he seemed to be left out of the conversation. It was as if you and his brother had forgotten about his presence in the room as you discussed the your theory.

"So, this is your theory, huh? Santa's shady brother?" Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Well, ah – I'm just saying, that's what the lore says."

"Santa doesn't have a brother. There is no Santa."

"Yeah, I know." You assured with a scoff. "I mean... I could be wrong. I... just... Yeah, I gotta be wrong." You looked down, turning back to the table.

"Maybe, maybe not." Dean shook his head, taking the book from your hands in a quick motion when he saw the deception in your eyes.

"What?" Sam looked at him with confusion.

"I did a little digging. Turns out both victims visited the same place before they got snatched." Dean explained with a shrug.

"Where?"

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

"This is not exactly how I pictured the North Pole if I'm being honest." You said, looking at that little event called Santa's Village where Christmas music was playing and children were running around while various employees dressed as Santa's elves were trying to entertain people. It was quite depressing. "I told you one thing, if I brought Peter here he wouldn't talk to me for a whole year. This place takes all the magic out of Christmas."

"Speaking of." Dean spoke, gaining your and his brother's attention. "We should have one this year."

"Have one what?" Sam frowned.

"A Christmas."

"That would be great." You smiled.

"No, thanks." Sam scoffed at the same time.

"We'll get a tree, a little Boston market, just like when we were little." Dean commented towards his brother.

"Dean, those weren't exactly Hallmark memories for me, you know." Sam sighed.

"What are you talking about? We had some great Christmases."

"Whose childhood are you talking about?" Sam looked at him in disbelief.

The look in his eyes was all you needed to see to realize that this subject was not a pleasant one for the younger Winchester.

You couldn't relate to it. Despite your father's absence the last few years, you had always had good Christmases. Except, maybe, the first one after your mother's death and Carter's departure. Peter was still a baby at that time and didn't understand much, which meant you didn't have to pretend to be happy and make sure he had a good Christmas experience.

"Oh, come on, Sam." Dean insisted.

"No! Just... no."

"All right, Grinch." Dean scoffed, walking away to take a better look of the place.

You turned to look at Sam, who seemed lost in thought. Truth be told, you were a little lost too, feeling once again that knot in your chest at the thought that you'd left Peter alone for Christmas. Well, not completely alone, but without his family. You just hoped he and Maddie would get along.

"You'd think with the 10 bucks it costs to get into this place, Santa could scrounge up a little snow." Dean's voice brought Sam and you out of your thoughts

"What?" You frowned.

"Nothing. What are we looking for, again?"

"Um... lore says that the anti-Claus will walk with a limp and smell like sweets." You answered, looking around.

"Great. So we're looking for a pimp Santa." Dean sighed, which made you giggle. "Why the sweets?"

"Think about it, Dean. If you smell like candy, the kids will come closer, you know?" You teased, moving closer to him.

"That's creepy." He stated, looking back at you.

"Yeah, I know. I just... have this tendency to try to cover everything bad with a joke or a sarcastic comment."

Dean nodded, totally understanding that.

"How does this thing know who's been naughty and who's been nice?" Sam asked as he walked with you.

"I don't know." You shrugged, stopping and staring at the man wearing a Santa Claus costume sits outside a small barn a few feet away from where they were standing. Like the fake Santa Claus in the malls, this one let children sit on his lap to tell him the gifts they wanted to receive for Christmas.

"So, Ronny, tell me. You been a good boy this year?" Santa asked the kid who was currently sitting on his lap.

"Yeah." The boy answered.

"Good. Santa's got a special gift for you." Santa answered him as cackled creepily, which caused you to cringe.

"Maybe we do." Dean answered his brother's earlier question after witnessing that scene.

"Yeah, as if kids were actually honest when Santa asks them that." You scoffed as you watched the mother grab her son's hand to lead him away from the fake Santa.

Just at that moment a woman in an elf costume walked up to Sam, Dean and you.

"Welcome to Santa's court." She smiled. "Can I escort your child to Santa?"

"Uh..."

"No. No. Uh, but actually my brother here" Dean spoke, cutting off his brother's mumbling as he smacked him on the shoulder. "...it's been a lifelong dream of his."

The elfin girl turned her eyes to the young Winchester, looking at him like he's a freak. "Uh, sorry. No kids over... 12."

"No, he's just kidding." Sam quickly spoke, trying to clear up the situation. However, his last words caused quite the opposite. "We only came here to watch."

The girl frowned before turning her eyes to Dean and you, as you tried to hide the chuckle that was about to escape you lips.

"Eww."

"I-I didn't mean that we came here to w—" Sam tried to explain, but she didn't pay him any attention as she walked away from them. Dean turned his head towards you, and when your eyes met neither could help but chuckle at the awkward situation the olderer Winchester had put his brother in. "Thanks a lot, Dean. Thanks for that." Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance as you two continued to laugh.

"Hey, guys, Check it out." You spoke as you caught your breath, pointing to the fake Santa, who was standing up from his chair, walking with bad limp.

"A lot of people walk with limps, right?"

"Tell me you didn't smell that. That was candy, man." Dean commented when the man walked pass them.

"That was weed, dude." You stated. "I think. Had to be. That guy is definitely high. Who the fuck hired the people in here?"

"Okay, maybe you're right, but are we willing to take that chance?" Dean looked back at you. You shrugged.

No, you were not going to take it. You needed to be sure. That's why when night came you three found yourselfs inside the Impala, watching the house of the stoned and fake Santa Claus.

"What time is it?" Dean asked.

"Same as the last time you asked." Sam answered him. "Here... Caffeinate." He handed Dean a thermos.

"How come she gets to sleep and I don't?" He grunted, looking over to you as you lay on the back seats of the car.

Sam turned toward him with disbelief.

"Really? You're the one who told her not to worry, that we'd take care of it."

"Yeah, well. She looked tired." Dean shrugged, opening the thermos.

"Yeah, right." Sam scoffed.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

"Come on. What's that look for?" Dean asked in frustration.

"Nothing, Dean. It's just that you're so obvious." Sam answered, looking back at him.

"What are you talking about?" Dean frowned, trying to pour some coffee into the cup, but the thermos is empty. "Wonderful."

"I'm just saying that if you really want to keep your distance with her, you're not doing a very good job."

Dean looked up at him at his response, remaining silent for a few seconds. If he was honest his brother was right, but sometimes he couldn't help but fall into the habits of his time dating her. Besides, you were hard to ignore.

"Hey, Sam."

"Yeah?"

"Why are you the boy that hates Christmas?" He then asked, changing the subject. Sam scoffs, directing his gaze back to the fake Santa's house.

"Dean..."

"I mean, I admit it. You know, we had a few bumpy holidays when we were kids."

"'Bumpy'?

"That was then. We'll do it right this year."

"Look, Dean. If you want to have Christmas, knock yourself out. Just don't involve me."

Dean looked at him in disbelief. "Oh, yeah, that'd be great. Me and myself making cranberry molds."

"Well, I'm sure she will want to join you. She seems to love Christmas." Sam pointed to the you.

The car went silent again as they returned to watching the house. Just in that moment fake Santa, still in his red cap, but in a green tank top, looked outside and then closed his curtains.

"What's up with Saint Nicotine?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, my God!" A woman's voice was heard from the house, making the brothers jump out of the car and run to the house with their guns drawn.

At the noise, you couldn't help but wake up. You eyes immediately searching for them, seeing them enter the house with their guns in hand. Quickly you grabbed your gun and went after them. But the image you encountered was not what you expected. The stoned, fake Santa was sitting on his couch, watching what appeared to be a Christmas porn movie while Dean and Sam sang a very off-key version of Silent Night. You did your best not to laugh as you grabbed both of their arms to pull them out of the house, closing the door after.

"That went well." You sighed.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

Arriving at the Holloway house, Maddie was alarmed to find that its door was wide open. Fear almost made her run out of there, but then she remembered that a boy was waiting for her. As scared as she was to run into those two demons again, she had to gather courage from wherever she could.

However, the girl didn't expect that when she set foot inside the house, a stream of water would be shot directly into her face.

"You have passed two tests, congratulations. Now let's see how you get out of that trap, demon." Peter spoke from the top of the stairs, shooting her again with his water gun.

"Whoa, whoa. Stop!" Maddie exclaimed, trying to cover her face with her arms. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Making sure you're not a demon or some other monster. You have past the salt line. This is holy water." He explained, pointing to the gun in his hands. "Now you need to get out of there." Maddie frowned as she watched him point to the ceiling. She then looked up, finding a circle with various symbols drawn on it just above the door of the house.

"It's a demon trap." Peter explained. "Although, if you're one of them you already know that." Maddie was about to speak, but he interrupted her before she could. "Now, move and go get that silver knife over there." He ordered, pointing to her right as he shot her again with the holy water.

"Quit it. What is this, the house from Home Alone?" Maddie asked in disbelief.

"You like movies." He observed with a little smile. "I like you. I really hope I don't have to kill you." Peter admitted, turning serious once again. "Move."

"Okay, okay." Maddie accepted. "God, what is wrong with this family?" She muttered to herself.

Doing everything as the boy ordered, Maddie finally managed to convince him that she wasn't a monster. After that Peter put away his gun and the silver knife with which he had forced her to make a small cut on her hand and joined her again with an innocent smile on his lips.

"How about ordering some pizza?"

Pizza was also what Dean, Sam and you had for dinner that night before morning came and you heard the news of another attack. As usual that forced you to put on your suits and grab their fake badges so they could interrogate the victim's family.

"So, that's how your son described the attack? 'Santa took daddy up the chimney'?"

"That's what he says, yes." Answered the woman, who had a bruise over her eye from the attack.

"And where were you?" Dean asked.

"I was asleep and all of a sudden... I was being dragged out of bed, screaming."

"Did you see the attacker?" You wondered.

"It was dark, and he hit me. He knocked me out." Mrs. Caldwell said with a shake of her head.

You nodded. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard."

"Yeah, um, Mrs. Caldwell, where, where did you get that wreath above the fireplace?" Sam asked her as he pointed to it.

You and Dean frowned with confusion, looking at the wreath a little puzzled by Sam's question.

"Excuse me?" Mrs. Caldwell looked at him just as confused as you two.

"Just curious, you know." He shrugged with a smile, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Forgive him, he is a just rookie and doesn't know how to follow orders." You excused him, resting your gaze on Sam. "I told you to keep quiet, remember?"

Sam wasn't amused by that, unlike Dean.

"Thank you for answering our questions." You looked back at the woman. "And we're sorry about what happened."

Mrs. Caldwell nodded as you left the house.

"Wreaths, huh?" Dean asked his brother as you walked back to the car. "Sure you didn't want to ask her about her shoes? I saw some nice handbags in the foyer."

"We've seen that wreath before, Dean."

"We have?" You frowned.

"Dean and I, yes. At the Walshes'. Yesterday." Sam answered.

"I know. I was just testing you." Dean smiled making Sam scoff.

"Okay, but what does a wreath have to do with the case?" You looked at them with confusion. Sam shrugged.

"I don't know, but it was the exact same wreath. It's a connection between victims, it's worth a look."

"Fine." You shrugged getting inside the car.

Back at the motel, Sam was on the phone with Bobby while Dean cleaned the guns and you tried to contact you father. At least you knew your brother was okay, as Maddie had texted you the night before to confirm that you had arrived at the house. Accompanied by a threat that if Peter didn't behave himself she would end up killing him. She clearly wasn't serious, but she was close to it.

"I swear I will kill him. He just had to stay with his son for the holidays, is that so hard?" Dean looked up at you and watched as you slammed your phone down on the table. You looked back at him then, your eyes full of exhaustion and disappointment.

Unfortunately, Dean and Sam knew exactly what it was like to spend Christmas without their father, and certainly, though the kid was a pain in the ass, Dean didn't exactly wish that on Peter.

"Yeah, all right. Well, keep looking, would you? Thanks, Bobby." Sam spoke before hanging up the phone. "Well... we're not dealing with the anti-Claus."

You grunted, resting your forehead on the arm you had over the table. Dean sighed as he watched the state you were in.

"What did Bobby say?" He asked his brother as he turned to him.

"Uh, that we're morons." Sam answered, sitting next to you, which make you look up at him. "He also said that it was probably meadowsweet in those wreaths.

"Wow! Amazing." You answered sarcastically. "What the hell is meadowsweet?"

"It's pretty rare and it's probably the most powerful plant in pagan lore." Sam said, looking at his laptop.

"Pagan lore?" Dean frowned.

"Oh, I know that one." You raised you hand.

Sam looked at you with confusion before answering his brother.

"See, they used meadowsweet for human sacrifice. It was kind of like a... Chum for their gods. Gods were drawn to it and they'd stop by and snack on whatever was the nearest human."

"Why would somebody be using that for Christmas wreaths?"

"It's not as crazy as it sounds, Dean. I mean, pretty much every Christmas tradition is pagan."

"Christmas is Jesus's birthday." He pointed out with confusion.

"No, Jesus's birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the winter solstice festival that was co-opted by the Church and renamed 'Christmas'. But I mean, the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit – that's all remnants of pagan worship." You explained, letting your head fall back.

Sam and Dean shared a look at that. The younger one especially confused by your attitude, as he hadn't heard about the situation with your father.

"Wow, you really are a smarty, aren't you?" Dean smiled with amusement.

"Don't call me that." You harshly complained, looking back at him.

Dean looked at her startled by her reaction. "Okay, I'm sorry. But how do you know all that? What are you gonna tell me next? Easter bunny's Jewish?" You rolled your eyes at his worlds as Sam stayed silent. "So you think we're dealing with a pagan God?" Dean then turned to his brother.

"Yeah, probably Hold Nickar, God of the winter solstice." Sam answered, looking down at his laptop.

"And all these Martha Stewart wannabes, buying these fancy wreaths..."

"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying 'Come kill us'."

"Great."

"Huh... When you sacrifice to Hold Nickar, guess what he gives you in return." Sam spoke again.

"Lap dances, hopefully." You chuckled at his answer.

"Mild weather." Sam corrected.

You frowned, looking out the window. "Like no snow in the middle of December in the middle of Michigan."

"For instance."

"Do we know how to kill it yet?" Dean asked.

"No, Bobby's working on that right now. We got to figure out where they're selling those wreaths."

"You think they're selling them on purpose? Feeding the victims to this thing?"

"Let's find out." Sam exhaled.

After visiting several Christmas decoration stores, you finally found the one that had sold those wreaths. From what the shopkeeper had told you, a woman named Madge Carrigan made them and gave them to him for free, saying that they were special. He had taken it upon himself to sell them, this time charging for them, and that is how they had arrived at the victims' houses.

"How much do you think a meadowsweet wreath would cost?" Dean asked, turning on the light as they walked back into the motel room.

"A couple hundred dollars, at least." Sam answered.

"This lady's giving them away for free? What do you think about that?"

"Well, sounds pretty suspicious." You said, sitting down on the couch as you checked the messages on you phone.

Dean and Sam nodded, taking off their jackets and siting on the edge of their beds.

"Hey, Sammy, remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?" Dean asked his brother.

"You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?" Sam frowned as you looked up at them with curiosity.

"Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans." Dean explained to you when he noticed your confuse expression. "That thing was great. I bet if I looked around hard enough, I could probably find one just like it."

"Sounds cool, I guess..." You didn't exactly know what to respond.

"All right. Dude... What's going on with you?" Sam frowned, looking back at his brother.

"What?"

"I mean, since when are you Bing Crosby all of a sudden? Why do you want Christmas so bad?"

"Why are you so against it? I mean, were your childhood memories that traumatic?"

"No, that has nothing to do with it." Sam shook his head as you began to feel a little out of place. You nerves increasing at the lack of messages or calls from your father or Maddie.

"Then what?"

"I-I mean, I-I just... I don't get it." Sam admitted. "You haven't talked about Christmas in years."

"Well, yeah. This is my last year." Dean pointed out, causing a knot to settle in your and his brother's chests.

Sam sighed, looking down.

"I know. That's why I can't." He finally admitted.

Dean's face turned confused at his little brother's words.

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean I can't just sit around, drinking eggnog, pretending everything's okay, when I know next Christmas you'll be dead." Sam explained. "I just can't."

After that Sam left the room claiming he was going to get some dinner. Dean couldn't help but let out a sigh, glancing down at his hands before raising his gaze back up to you.

"You are not gonna say anything?"

"What do you want me to say, Dean?" You asked with confusion. "Honestly, I'm too focused on my own family problems to be focused on yours."

"Yeah, about that... Did your dad call you?" Dean asked with honest interest.

"I think he's avoiding me." You let out a sigh. "And I have this friend with Peter..."

"The same one you went to visit in Salem?"

You paused, narrowing your eyes.

"Is there something you want to say to me?"

"I know you were lying." Dean stated taking you by surprise. "I don't know what you went to do in Salem, but I know you weren't going to visit an old friend."

"It's none of your business."

"Some old boyfriend? Maybe a hook up budy? Friend with benefits?" He asked with a smirk.

"You're an jerk, you know that?" You said without amusement. "You and Sam aren't the only ones with family problems, you know? Maybe he's right and you should stop talking about Christmas, because this one's definitely the worst. Although I'm sure next year's will be even more so for him."

With nothing more to say, you stood up, grabbed your bag and headed for the bathroom, slamming the door behind.

Dean stayed there, sitting on the edge of his bed. Everything he did or said seemed to mess everything up even more with his brother and you. The only consolation was that maybe this way his death wouldn't affect you two as much. But that was a stupid thought and deep down he knew it.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

The next day was not very productive for Sam, Dean and you, who all you could do was visit the woman who made the wreaths. Although the visit did serve to confirm that her and her husband were the ones causing the attacks. At least it seemed obvious to you because of their obvious weird energy with their meadowsweet and peanut brittle, their old-fashioned cardigans and their whole aesthetic of an old couple stuck in the 50's. Nice and happy.

After that you could only do more research and wait for Bobby to tell you three how to stop them.

Peter and Maddie however did have a much more productive day. Maddie was growing fond of the boy, who had dragged her to the nearest mall for last minute shopping, begged her to make Christmas cookies and tricked her into playing with some rubber-bullet guns around the house. If she was honest, she hadn't had this much fun in years. Peter reminded her why for years she had longed for younger siblings.

"I win. Again." Peter said, lowering his gun as the rubber bullet hit the Maddie's shoulder.

Maddie grunted with annoyance. "How are you so good at shooting?"

"My sister started teaching me when I turned eight."

"Your sister taught you how to shoot real guns?" Maddie looked at him shocked. Peter nodded, taking the plastic gun from her hands to put it away alongside his own.

"She wanted me to be prepared in case any monsters showed up at the house or if I encountered any." He explained. "She also made sure I brought a knife to school and taught me martial arts. I can teach you if you want."

"No, thanks. Hunting is not my thing." Maddie admitted with a nervous smile.

"And what is your thing?" He asked curiously.

"Photography."

"Why?"

Maddie shrugged. "I don't know. If you take the perfect picture at the perfect moment, you can live a moment over and over again. You can cherish the little gestures and little moments for a lifetime."

"Too deep for me." Peter sighed "But I guess I get it. I want to be a movie director."

"That's cool. But it's also deep."

"Yeah, I guess. Although my thing would be horror or fantasy films. I know a lot about monsters."

"I can see that." She smiled. "Are you hungry?"

"Sure. What's for dinner?" He asked.

"Well, it's Christmas Eve and my mom had this tradition of making a turkey with mashed potatoes and apple pie for dessert. How about that? The turkey's in the oven." Maddie explained as she headed to the kitchen being quickly followed by him.

"My sister and I usually have ice cream while watching a Christmas movie after dinner, can we do that too?"

Maddie turned to him with a slight smile on her lips, appreciating that he hadn't complained about her plans.

"Of course."

"Great. I'll go get the movies." He said enthusiastically.

"You should also call your sister." Maddie reminded him before he ran off upstairs.

Peter stopped on his tracks letting out a sigh.

"Yeah, you're right." He admitted, approaching the wall phone. However, you weren't in a very comfortable position to answer his call at that moment.

After Bobby informed you that the way to kill the pagan god was wooden stakes, Dean and you had made sure to set them up while Sam learned that the old married couple had lived in Seattle last year where two similar attacks had occurred.

The house looked perfect, decorated for Christmas and smelling of freshly made food and cookies. Everything seemed normal, until you reached the basement of the house. Where you found bones covered with blood in a large bowl and many other disgusting things. The whole basement looked like a butchery room rather than a storage room. And it was there that the couple took you three by surprise, knocking all three of you unconscious.

Now your phone was buzzing in your pants pocket as you lay on the kitchen island, still unconscious. Your hands and legs tied, preventing you from moving while Sam and Dean sat back to back in two chairs beside you, struggling with the ropes that held them.

"Hey. Sweetheart, you need to wake up." You could hear Dean's voice in the distance. With your eyes still closed and dazed, you tried to turn your head toward his voice. Dean grunted as he kept trying to get free from the ropes around his wrists, watching as you grimaced in pain when you moved.

"Dean?" You asked in a quiet whisper, still not opening your eyes.

"Yeah, is me, sweetheart. I'm right here. We're here." He assured.

"You okay?" You asked, slowly opening your eyes.

"We should ask you that." Sam answered, giving you a slight smile. You tried to return it, but your whole body ached with every movement. "I guess we're dealing with Mr. and Mrs. God." Dean nodded. "Nice to know."

In that moment the kitchen door opened and the Carrigans came waking in, dressed in colorful Christmas themed sweaters.

"Ooh, and here we thought you two lazybones were gonna sleep straight through all the fun stuff." Madge giggled.

"Miss all this? Nah, we're partiers." Dean cockily replied.

"Isn't he a kick in the pants, honey?" Mr Carrigan looked at his wife before turning his gaze back at him as he smoked his pipe. "You're hunters, is what you are."

"And you're pagan gods. So, why don't we just call it even, and go our separate ways?"

"What, so you can bring more hunters and kill us?" He laughed. "I don't think so."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you went snacking on humans, now, huh?" Sam commented.

"Oh now, don't get all wet." Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes.

"Oh, why, we used to take over a hundred tributes a year and that's a fact." Madge spoke, putting a napkin on Dean's lap before doing the same with Sam. "Now what do we take? What, two? Three?"

"Hardy Boys and their girlfriend here make six." Her husband pointed out.

"Now, that's not so bad, is it?"

"Well, you say it like that, I guess you guys are the Cunninghams." Dean answered, smirking at his own comeback.

"You, mister, better show us a little respect." Mr. Carrigan said, looking back at him.

"Or what? You'll eat us?" Sam raised his eyebrows.

Mr. Carrigan was about to answered him but his wife's voice interrupted him. "Oh, honey, don't try so hard. It's no use." Madge said as she noticed how you shifted, struggling with the ropes on your wrists trying to get loose while letting out slight grunts of pain with each move.

"Don't touch her." Dean stated, clenching his jaw.

"Well, guess we've just figured out whose girlfriend this young lady is." Mr. Carrigan commented, stroking your cheek. You looked up at him threateningly.

"I will kill you." You declared. Mr. Carrigan raised his eyes, sharing a glance with his wife at your response.

"What a mouth you have, young lady." Madge said, approaching you with a knife and bowl in her hands. "I think you need to learn some manners."

"All I need is a wooden stake. I'm going to enjoy driving it into your hearts, believe me." You replied, clenching your jaw.

Without missing a beat Madge slid the knife down one of your arms, collecting your blood in the bowl. You couldn't help but grunt in pain at the piercing sensation. But still, your tolerance for it was impressive. Especially for the couple of Pagan Gods, who were used to the cries of despair. But unlike their other victims, you had already experienced a situation similar to that and it had been much worse.

Dean screamed your name with desperation. "Leave her alone, you sons of bitches! I'm going to kill you."

"Hear how they talk to us? To Gods?" Mr. Cardigan looked at his wife. "Listen, pal, back in the day, we were worshiped by millions."

"Times have changed!"

"Tell me about it. All of a sudden, this Jesus character is the hot new thing in town. All of a sudden, our–our altars are being burned down, and we're being hunted down like common monsters."

"Maybe because you are." You replied.

"But did we say a peep? Oh no, we did not." Madge continued, ignoring your words while her husband added something to the bowl of blood. "Two millennium. We kept a low profile; we got jobs, a mortgage. Wh-What was that word, dear?"

"We assimilated." He replied.

"Yeah, we assimilated. Why, we play bridge on Tuesday and Fridays. We're just like everybody else." She spoke as she took another bowl and the knife to sliced up Sam's arm.

"You're not blending in as smooth as you think, lady." Dean answered, clenching his fists as he heard his little brother screaming in pain.

She ignored him as she stood in front of him to slide the knife down one of his arms. "This might pinch a bit, dear."

"You bitch!" Dean screamed out.

"Oh, my goodness me! Somebody owes a nickel to the swear jar." She looked at him with offense. "Oh, do you know what I say when I feel like swearing? 'Fudge.'"

"I'll try and remember that!" He panted making her smile.

"You guys have no idea how lucky you are." Mr. Carrigan said, picking up a pair of pliers. "There was a time when kids came from miles around, just to be sitting where you are."

You turned to look at him as you noticed how he stood at your left side, holding your hand. Panic invaded you as you remembered the most painful and terrifying night of your life. It was then that Mr. Carrigan's face seemed to change into your own older brother's for a few moments. Confused, you blinked several times. For a brief second, it seemed as if you had returned to your home, to that night in 1994 when everything changed.

"What do you think you're doing with those?" You looked at the tool once you came back to reality. But Mr. Carrigan didn't respond, he just smiled at you. A shiver ran down you spine.

Watching that scene play out before his eyes Dean turned to Madge. "You fudging touch her again and I'll fudging kill you!"

"Very good!" The woman smiled.

"No. No. Don't." You looked at Mr. Carrigan with panic when you understood what he was going to do. For the first time that night, you felt the pain for real. You body ached since you had been knocked unconscious, but this was much worse. Though nothing compared to what Carter had done to you. A scream left your mouth when Mr. Carrigan pulled the nail of your index finger.

"Oh, we got a winner!" He said, holding up the nail.

"What else, dear?" Madge asked him as they put all the ingredients in the bowl and stirred them.

"Well, let's see. Uh, fingernail, blood. Oh... Sweet Peter on a popsicle stick. I forgot the tooth." He laughed.

"Merry Christmas, guys." Dean said, making Sam and you groaned. Mr. Carrigan picked up a different time of pliers and walked towards Dean.

"Wait! Wait!" You exclaimed. "Take one of mine."

"Aw, how cute, protecting her boyfriend." Madge commented, looking at her husband.

"Please." You insisted while Dean shook his head. "I can take the pain."

"We know, honey." Madge assured. "But we actually like the screams."

"Open wide... and say, 'Aaah.'" Mr. Carrigan grabbed Dean's chin.

Despite trying to resist, Mr. Carrigan managed to put the pliers into Dean's mouth. Then suddenly, the doorbell rang.

"Somebody gonna get that?" Deas asked with the pliers still in his mouth. Madge and Mr. Carrigan looked at each other. "You should get that."

"Come on." Mr. Carrigan rolled his eyes before leaving the kitchen with his wife. At that, Dean couldn't help but sigh in relief and run his tongue around his teeth.

To their luck, the two gods had left a knife on the island countertop, just inches from your left hand. But Sam and Dean had more experience getting loose from ropes, handcuffs and chains, so before you could reach the knife they had already broken free.

"You're a little slow, sweetheart." Dean walked over to you, starting to undo the knots in the ropes on your wrists while Sam did the same with the ones on your ankles. "'Take one of mine', really?" Dean whispered, holding you by the waist to help you down.

"Oh, leave it. I was trying to save you the pain." You sighed, putting an arm around his neck to steady yourself.

"And keep it all for yourself?"

"Well, I've had worse." You admitted, turning your head toward him. It was then that you noticed the short distance between your faces, causing you to gulp nervously. You could feel his breath against your lips, his body against your, how his muscles tensed at your touch, how his eyes roamed your face.

"Hey, lovebirds." Sam snapped you two out of your daydream, opening the other kitchen door so you could get out. "Come on."

Dean nodded quickly, following him into the hallway of the house as he helped you walk.

"I'm fine. I'm fine." You said, releasing your grip, but Dean kept his arm around your waist, hesitant.

"You sure?" He asked.

"Yeah. It's okay. I promise." You smiled reassuringly at him. Sighing, Dean took a step back, letting go of you.

"Now, where were we?" Madge spoke as she and her husband walked back into the kitchen. A gasp escaping her mouth when she noticed that Sam, Dean and you were no longer there.

Splitting up, each of the Winchester brothers closed the two kitchen doors. You staying with Dean and dragging a drawer to the door as the Carrigan's started banging on the door, trying to escape. When you two finally managed to block the door completely, you both rushed to join Sam so you could help him hold the other door.

"What do we do now? The evergreen stakes are in the basement!" Dean exclaimed.

"Well, we need more evergreen, Dean!" Sam answered with obviousness as you rolled your eyes, stepping back and looking around the room they were in, the main living room of the house.

"I think I just found us some more." She spoke, looking at the Christmas tree.

"Good idea." Sam admitted. "Dean, help me get this." He pointed to a cabinet. Dean nodded and help him pushed in front of the door. Meanwhile you snapped a couple of branches from the tree to use as stakes.

Suddenly the house fell into silence. The brothers and you couldn't help but share a look of confusion as you tossed them two of the stakes. Just as Dean caught the stake in his hand, Mr. Carrigan appeared out of nowhere and tackled him. Madge walked behind her husband, straight toward you.

"You little thing." She growled, her face momentarily distorting to her true form. "I loved that tree."

Sam raised his stake but Madge hit him so hard he crashed into the couch and onto the floor. You moved quickly towards her, pushing her far from the young Winchester and thrusting the stake into her heart.

"Madge!!!" Mr. Carrigan screamed, stopping the punches he was throwing at Dean. You pushed the stake deeper and she groaned, falling to the ground, dead. Meanwhile Dean toke the opportunity and hit Mr. Carrigan, stabbing him with his stake. He screamed in pain before Dean pulled out to stabbed him again. Mr. Cardigan then thumped to the ground, next to his wife, dead.

Helping the Winchester brothers get to their feet, you sighed with relief.

"Merry Christmas." Sam said looking at you and Dean with a brief smile on his face.

─── ❖ ── ✦ ── ❖ ───

After what had happened that night, you just wanted to take a shower, change your clothes, call your brother and go to sleep. It was Christmas Eve, but your Christmas spirit seemed to have disappeared. What the pagan gods had done to you had reminded you of that 1994 night. Even in the warm, comforting shower, every time you closed your eyes you felt like you were back home being chased by your older brother.

"Hey, sweetheart, do you want something particular for dinner?" Dean's voice could be heard through the bathroom door. Your rooms were adjoining, so he must have wandered into yours.

Turning off the water, you stepped out of the shower. "No. Whatever you bring will be fine. Thank you."

"Okay. I'll be back in 20 minutes." Dean was about to leave, but stopped short before doing so, leaning against the bathroom door with his eyes fixed on the floor. "Are you all right?"

The question took you off guard. Your hands shaking slightly as you wrapped a towel around your body.

"Yes." Your voice came out shaky. "I'm fine."

Dean knew you were lying, but decided not to insist. "Listen, uh... I'll buy something and when I get back I'll patch you up, okay?"

You nodded not realizing he couldn't see you.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you get me something for my headache too?"

"Sure."

"Thanks." A hint of a smile tugged at your lips, but it quickly disappeared.

After hearing the door close, you reached into the sink to grab your phone. Your father had not yet returned your calls or messages, but you did have several texts from your little brother.

Leaving the bathroom, you dialed his phone as you sat on the edge of your bed. "Are you okay? Did something happen to you? I'm going to kill those..."

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm all right." You cut him off. "It's okay. You don't have to kill anybody." You reassured him. "How are you? How are you doing with Maddie?"

"Fine, I guess." He shrugged. "I still miss you."

"I miss you too, kiddo."

"You know, Maddie's agreed to watch a movie with me. And we're going to eat some ice cream."

You smiled wistfully. "Sounds like the perfect plan."

"It would be if you were here." Peter admitted sadly. "What are you and those idiots going to do tonight?"

"I really don't know. I'm really tired." You answered.

"Come on, it's Christmas Eve."

"Yeah, I know. I know." You sighed. "I don't know, maybe I'll watch a movie too."

"Great. Tomorrow you tell me which one. I love you." Peter said in a hurry as he watched how Maddie had just put the movie on the TV.

"I love you too." You answered. "Say hi to Maddie for me."

"Yeah, sure. Bye." He said a quick goodbye before hanging up and leaving you alone in that motel room, just as you had been before calling him.

You knew Peter was right. You couldn't stay all depressed and alone on Christmas Eve. Sam might not want to celebrate the holidays, but Dean sure would want to take a walk with you and celebrate together.

What you didn't expect was that after getting dressed and walking through the door connecting your and their room, you would find Dean and Sam already celebrating Christmas. A very improvised celebration due to the cheap decorations that had been put up.

"I brought you what you asked for." Dean spoke as he saw you enter the room, holding up a bag. You turned to him, giving him a slight smile of gratitude though still confused about the whole situation.

"Ah, uh... I thought it would be nice to celebrate Christmas." Sam explained when he saw you confusion. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I know it's not much..."

"It's perfect. I love it." You assured him.

Sam smiled. "I brought some movies too."

"And there's ice cream in the fridge." Dean added making you look at him with confusion.

"You bought me ice cream?"

"I know you love it. It's not your favorite flavor because they didn't have it, but..." You cut him off as you wrapped him in a hug.

"Thank you. Thank you both." You spoke, hugging Sam this time. Both brothers couldn't help but share a look and smile at your reaction.

"We also have gifts."

"You do?" You looked at them with surprise as you separated from Sam. Dean nodded. "I... I have something for you too." You admitted then. "I didn't know if I was going to be able to give them to you because Sam here seemed so sour about Christmas, but... I'm going to get them."

You quickly left the room and returned just a few seconds later with two small packages in your hands.

Sam and Dean gave you their gifts first, both of which they had bought quickly at a gas station store, but for you they turned out perfect. Sam had gotten you a book so you wouldn't get bored in the back seats of the car during drives while Dean had won you a stuffed animal in one of those claw machines. Their gifts were so them that you couldn't help but smile with amusement.

"I love them." You assured. "Now it's my turn. They might be a little more personal, and you might think it's stupid, but..."

"Freya." Dean interrupted you as he noticed how you started to wander.

"Sorry, sorry. Here you go." You handed them the packages.

As they opened them, you decided to start explaining the reason for them. "Years ago my brother made me one of those braided bracelets out of purple fabric." You showed them the bracelet on your wrist. "The next year I made him one with a different color fabric. It turns out that this fabric is a special kind. In some cultures they believed it provided protection from darkness and evil. I thought red and blue would be your colors. You don't have to wear them. It's stupid..."

"We love them." Dean interrupted you. "Right, Sammy?"

"Yeah. They're pretty cool." He assured you.

You looked at them doubtfully, but smiled slightly as you watched them put them around their wrists.

Keep Reading: Chapter 7

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