Secret Santa Exchange

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NSFW art below! For Chris, from Rob
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NSFW art below! For Chris, from Rob

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Takes place around Christmas during Season 5. The pictures have captions and link through for credit. Happy holidays, Jamie, from Chris!

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Merry Christmas Elizabeth! I hope you enjoy it! 
From: Jess (no one is surprised!)
Lord Dean Winchester stepped into the ballroom. Much as he didn’t wish to be there, he had to admit that the staff had done a beautiful job of decorating the space. Fragrant garland hung around the room, perfuming the air with pine, while bright lights twinkled around the windows that lined the far wall. A string quartet played a jaunty tune, and people laughed and chattered in small clusters around an open space in the center. Dean could make out his mother and father dancing together, Mary’s head thrown back, laughing at something John had said, and a few other couples swirled around his parents. 
“Come on, Dean, don’t just stand there,” Sam huffed next to him. He was eager to get into the ballroom, of course, using his height to search out the blonde he had been dying to see all day long. Dean could tell the second that Sam spotted Jessica, because he inhaled sharply next to Dean. “Woah,” Sam said under his breath. Dean looked in the direction that Sam was staring, and woah was right. Beautiful on any regular day, Lady Jessica Moore had outdone herself for the evening. Her curly golden hair flowed down her back, red flowers tied into the strands. She wore a dusty pink dress, and a pale shawl wrapped in the crooks of her elbows. She was stunning.

“Don’t just stand there, go get her, tiger,” Dean said, giving Sam a none-too-gentle push. Sam grimaced at Dean before moving toward Jessica as if drawn there by an imaginary string. Dean would not be surprised if Sam stayed by her side the entire evening. He’d be even less surprised if he gained a sister-in-law by the end of the night.

[[MORE]]For himself, however, Dean did not wish to be at the dance at all. Oh, he knew it was his responsibility as the eldest son and heir of Duke John Winchester, but he would much rather spend the time with his best friend, Cas, who would not be at the ball tonight. Dean had very nearly begged Cas to stay, to come to the dance with him just so they could stand to one side and laugh and joke at all the other bachelors in their clumsy attempts to woo the young women who were at their first balls. And then to watch them dance, to see the women wince in pain and then lie as the men trod on their feet… well, it would have been an enjoyable evening.

Except that Cas could not come to the ball; he’d been called home to the Milton estate, and he wasn’t sure when he’d return. Dean hadn’t been able to interpret the look that Cas had shot him as he’d left earlier that week, his horse prancing and eager to get on the road.

Dean sighed and stepped into the ballroom, knowing he couldn’t put off the inevitable any longer. No matter how much he didn’t want to be there, it was his duty, and he would do what was expected of him. His face lit up when he saw Benny leaning against a far wall. Perhaps the evening wouldn’t be a total loss after all.

He grabbed a glass of champagne off of a tray of a passing footman, and headed in Benny’s direction. Along the way he was stopped by various lords and ladies, all of whom wanted his attention for something or other. Most of the older nobles wanted to introduce Dean to their daughters (and more than a few sons as well). Dean let them know he was flattered by their attention, and promised dances to everyone who asked. He quickly finished his first glass of champagne and grabbed another.

He finally reached Benny, who gave him a slow smile. “Well brother, I see you’re quite popular today.”

Dean snorted. “It’s always like this,” he said, a sour note in his voice.

“You telling me you don’t enjoy having men and women thrown at you by their parents?” Benny drawled.

Dean shook his head. “They’re not interested in me, only in the Winchester estate.” It was true, too. The Duke’s lands were the best in the valley, including a forest stuffed full with game and some of the most fertile fields around. Most of the people who lived under the aegis of the Duke were happy to be there, for he treated his vassals well.

Benny laughed and clapped Dean on the shoulder. “One day you’ll find your fairy tale, brother.” A dark haired woman in a red flowing dress caught Benny’s attention. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I believe I see Lady Andrea.” Benny barely waited for Dean to acknowledge before he was across the ballroom, whisking the dark beauty into his arms. He whispered something in her ear, and she blushed prettily. Dean turned away, not wanting to intrude on their private moment.

He danced with the daughters and sons who had been thrown at him, whiling away an hour or so, and he began to wonder if his presence had been noted enough by others to satisfy his father. Could he get away with slipping out of the ballroom?

“May I have this dance?” a deep voice came from behind him. Dean turned, an apology on his lips, but the words froze before he could get them out. A man, about Dean’s height, wore a mask. The mask covered most of his face, only showing the merest hint of pink lips and the sparkle of eyes that might have been blue, but could have been another color beneath the holes. Feathers adorned the top of the mask, so it was difficult for Dean to tell what color hair the man had. Several people attending the ball wore masks as well, so this man did not stand out from the other attendees. He held out a hand expectantly.

Dean sighed and clasped the other man’s hand in his own. He let the man lead him out onto the dance floor, and didn’t even complain when the man took the lead in the dance as well. The man was warm beneath Dean’s embrace, radiating a heat like a furnace. Dean tried to see who the man behind the mask was, but it was nearly impossible. The dancing area of the ballroom had fewer lights, and therefore more shadows, and the man seemed to steer Dean towards the darker corners of the dance floor.

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself, my lord,” the man said, and something tickled the back of Dean’s mind - the voice was familiar, but not.

Dean shrugged lightly. “It’s a fine enough evening, I suppose.”

The man gave a warm chuckle, the sound reverberating beneath his skin. Dean tried not to think about the fact that he could feel the man’s muscles moving under his palm where it rested on his shoulder. Despite the fact that the man wore a mask, he gazed at Dean with such an intensity that it nearly took Dean’s breath away.

For the first time that evening, the music ended far too quickly for Dean’s taste. He hesitated when it came time to separate, unsure why he was drawn to the stranger. The other man’s mouth quirked up in a smile and he pulled Dean closer as the next piece started up. “You have time for another dance, I’m sure,” he murmured, and the intimacy of the remark sent a shiver down Dean’s spine.

In the event, they danced three more dances, and then it was nearing midnight, time for the games and presents. Dean stepped away, reluctant to give up the warmth of the man’s embrace. “I have to…” he pointed toward his parents apologetically. The stranger smiled, and again, that itching feeling of familiarity arose at the base of Dean’s neck.

“My lord,” the man said, and he swept into a low bow. Dean inclined his head. When he looked up again, the man had been swallowed up by the crowd of people gathering around the head of the ballroom.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur, and though Dean looked for his dance partner for one final waltz, the man was nowhere to be found. When Sam announced to the crowd that he had asked Jess to marry him and she’d said yes, the resulting roar of approval practically shook the windows. Dean toasted Sam and Jess, a warm, happy feeling settling in his belly.

By the time the last guest had thanked John and Mary for the wonderful evening, Dean was exhausted, swaying on his feet. Sam had long ago slipped away to see Jess home. Benny had left much earlier with Andrea by his side, and Dean figured he’d be attending at least two weddings this spring.

Dean bid his parents good night, kissing Mary on the cheek. He ignored the slightly sad look in her eyes, knowing that she wished the same happiness that Sam and Jess had found for him. Other than the stranger, no one sparked any kind of interest in Dean, and he resigned himself to another lonely, cold winter.

***~~~***

Several days passed, and Dean knew no more about the stranger with whom he’d danced at the party. Cas returned the afternoon following, looking subdued. He was quiet about what had transpired at home, however, and Dean didn’t push. Cas would tell him when the time was right.

So they hunted and practiced fighting and spent time together, as they always did. Something seemed off, however, and Dean didn’t know how to broach the subject with his friend.

Things continued in that vein for another few days, and then it was time for the New Years’ ball. Dean went through the motions of dressing for the party, this time to be held by the Moore family on their estate, neighboring that of the Winchesters. He put on his maroon coat and cream shirt, fussing with his cravat until he felt that it was good enough. This evening would be better, because at least Cas would be by his side. Since Benny would spend most of his time with Andrea (he had asked her to marry him on Christmas day, and she’d said yes) and Sam would be with Jess, Dean was counting on the fact that Cas would be there.

He rode over to the Moore estate with his parents, feeling slightly detached from the proceedings, thinking that maybe he would find someone to dance with that evening who would be more interesting than the usual suspects. Perhaps his masked stranger would be there. He perked up at that, and began to look forward to the evening after all.

Cas was already there, laughing with Benny and smiling widely at Andrea. His nose crinkled as he did so, and Dean realized with a start that this was the first time in a week he’d seen Cas look happy. He clapped his friend on the shoulder and greeted Andrea with a nod of the head. Benny winked at Dean, and after a few minutes of idle conversation, he swept Andrea away for a dance.

“They look happy,” Cas remarked, sipping on his champagne. He leaned against the wall, one hand behind his back.

Dean nodded. “They do. So does Sam and Jess.” He pointed his chin at the couple in question, dancing closely together in the middle of the room. They only had eyes for each other.

“Do you…” Cas hesitated. “Is there someone here you would like to be with? Like that?”

Dean looked at his friend, an eyebrow raised. This was the first time this sort of thing had come up. Cas never talked about romance or marriage. As far as Dean knew, Cas had no interest in that sort of thing. For that matter, neither did Dean, but he still talked about it. Mostly in terms of the fact that Mary and John pestered him about getting married, and Dean had no one he was interested in.

“No,” Dean said after a minute. He briefly thought of the stranger from the Christmas ball. “No one here.”

Cas looked at him sharply. The qualification was an interesting one. He merely grunted, though, and they dropped the subject.

As midnight drew near, Dean and Cas withdrew from the ballroom, choosing to spend time in John’s study. Dean pulled out some of John’s good whisky, knowing that John would (probably) not mind, and he poured a glass for each of them.

“I never did give you your Christmas present,” Cas said, apropos of nothing.

Dean handed Cas the whisky. “I didn’t think you’d gotten me anything.”

Cas shrugged. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to give it to you.” Cas held out the hand, which Dean now realized had been behind Cas’s back most of the evening. In it was a small package wrapped in black tissue paper. “But… I thought it best that I did.”

Dean wondered at the formality of Cas’s speech, but he took the package nonetheless. It was light, and the tissue paper crinkled softly beneath his fingers. “Can I open it now?”

Cas bit his lip and nodded. Dean carefully peeled away the tissue paper until the present within was revealed. He held in his hands a mask with feathers sprouting out of the top. Dean held it up. It was the mask worn by the stranger at the Christmas ball.

“I don’t understand,” Dean said eventually.

Cas’s eyes widened, and he looked like a startled deer. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it and cleared his throat. “I thought…”

“That was you?” Dean said, the question overriding whatever Cas was going to say.

Cas nodded, a miserable expression on his face. “I think I was mistaken, though. I shouldn’t have…” But Dean rushed forward and cupped Cas’s face in his hands. Before he could think about what he was doing, what it might mean, he kissed Cas. Cas made a startled noise, but then he was kissing Dean back, his hands gripping Dean’s elbows. The kiss was slightly frantic and sloppy, their heads not quite tilted the right way, but it was warm and Cas’s lips were soft beneath Dean’s.

“Oh,” Cas said when Dean pulled back. “So…”

Dean rested his forehead on Cas’s. “Why didn’t you say?”

Cas laughed, his hot breath brushing against Dean’s cheek. Dean closed his eyes. “I didn’t want to be wrong. If I was, then it wouldn’t have mattered, you wouldn’t have known it was me.”

“But you would have. What would you have done if…” Dean started, but Cas cut him off with another kiss.

“It doesn’t matter, does it?” They stood together for several long moments, kissing softly, smiling at each other. Cas’s thumb rubbed small circles into Dean’s forearm, sending delicious shivers up and down Dean’s spine. Dean couldn’t get enough of kissing Cas, pressing his lips to Cas’s cheeks, his mouth, mouthing lightly at Cas’s jawline.

A thought occurred to Dean. “Why did you go home? What did your family want?”

Cas sighed. “They’d wanted me to marry. Lady Naomi.” The name was said with such distaste that Dean stepped back.

“You don’t like her.”

Cas gave a rueful smile. “No one does.”

“If you want to marry someone else, will that be all right with your family?” Dean asked hesitantly.

“Are you asking me to marry you, Lord Winchester?” Cas asked, a playful smile on his face. His eyes sparkled now, and Dean wondered why he didn’t recognize those brilliant blues beneath the mask.

“Kind of sounded like it, didn’t it?” Dean said.

Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist and tucked Dean close to him, so they stood flush against one another. “It did. I won’t hold you to it if you didn’t mean it. Your lack of interest in marriage is legendary.”

Dean laughed. “Perhaps I was just waiting for the right masked stranger to dance with me.” Cas grinned, his nose crinkling up in the way that Dean found utterly adorable, and he kissed Cas, unable to resist the temptation. They kissed and kissed, even through the cheers and shouts from the other guests as the clock struck midnight.

“Happy New Year, Dean,” Cas whispered, and Dean kissed him again.

Merry Christmas Elizabeth! I hope you enjoy it! 

From: Jess (no one is surprised!)

Lord Dean Winchester stepped into the ballroom. Much as he didn’t wish to be there, he had to admit that the staff had done a beautiful job of decorating the space. Fragrant garland hung around the room, perfuming the air with pine, while bright lights twinkled around the windows that lined the far wall. A string quartet played a jaunty tune, and people laughed and chattered in small clusters around an open space in the center. Dean could make out his mother and father dancing together, Mary’s head thrown back, laughing at something John had said, and a few other couples swirled around his parents.

“Come on, Dean, don’t just stand there,” Sam huffed next to him. He was eager to get into the ballroom, of course, using his height to search out the blonde he had been dying to see all day long. Dean could tell the second that Sam spotted Jessica, because he inhaled sharply next to Dean. “Woah,” Sam said under his breath. Dean looked in the direction that Sam was staring, and woah was right. Beautiful on any regular day, Lady Jessica Moore had outdone herself for the evening. Her curly golden hair flowed down her back, red flowers tied into the strands. She wore a dusty pink dress, and a pale shawl wrapped in the crooks of her elbows. She was stunning.

“Don’t just stand there, go get her, tiger,” Dean said, giving Sam a none-too-gentle push. Sam grimaced at Dean before moving toward Jessica as if drawn there by an imaginary string. Dean would not be surprised if Sam stayed by her side the entire evening. He’d be even less surprised if he gained a sister-in-law by the end of the night.

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By: Colonialdncr

Read on AO3

Merry Christmas Guu!  A little birdie told me you were a fan of the Three Musketeers, so I hope you enjoy :)

The year was 1625.  The Holy Roman Empire was being torn apart in a religious war, factions of demons facing off against their angelic foes, each side using creatures of the supernatural to aid their cause.  In France, Louis the XIII sat on the throne.  Everyone knew he was a weak king, dependent on his top Cardinal for advice. Though the King supported the beliefs of the angels, there were whispers and rumors that the Cardinal’s sympathies lay instead with the demons to the north. As the war raged on along the eastern borders, showing no signs of easing, the chaos of the war began to find its way into France; the horrors of these monsters held at bay only by an elite force: Hunters.  The best of the best.  They were known as The Musketeers.

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Merry Christmas, Wish!!!

Christmas 101 - Rated PG-13 - A Destiel story

by drownedinblissfulconfusion

"Can you explain to me why this is necessary?" Cas glares at Dean, steely blue, from under his fuzzy Santa hat.  

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Merry Bunker Christmas, Rob!

— by americanaintheimpala (Liann) YAY XMAS!

For Liann - Happy Christmas!! (not very christmassy but I hope you’ll like it!)

Love, Guu.

Present for Jess!!!
From: tamryneradani

Dean’s at the grocery store, debating between Fruit Loops and Lucky Charms when Krissy Chambers runs up to him.


“Mr. Winchester! Mommy, look it’s Mr. Winchester? Can I say hi?”


“Honey - “


Krissy tugs on Dean’s jacket. “Hi, Mr. Winchester!”


“Hey, Krissy.”

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Happy Christmas, Lis!

by Wish

Read on Ao3

It was November before Dean made the call and said “Come home.”

It was three more weeks of Dean pacing— actually wearing a groove in one of the carpets, already threadbare from another with similar predilection— before Cas showed up, his hair a little shaggier, face a little more gaunt, but carrying himself a little taller than the last time they’d met.

Gone was the blue vest, but the khakis remained. Dean might actually hate the khakis, but far be it for him to say anything. He’d already asked for too much. Cas was home.

Before he’d settled on a room, Cas claimed a coffee mug and a robe, both of which he used obsessively. Each night he’d make a bed in one room, each morning strip the linens off and fold them. After a week he settled on the room at the midpoint of the hallway between the brothers, and diagonal from Kevin. By that time he’d acquired a few sets of pajamas from the drawers in the various rooms, mostly in shades of blue piped with white or navy. They reminded Dean enough of hospital scrubs that he was glad of the ratty robe Cas strode around in. Sam had tried, at Dean’s bidding, to get Cas to trade the worn robe for a different one, but Cas just hummed and stuck his thumb through the small hole in the front pocket and said, “I like this one.” And that was that.

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clicky click

merry christmas lily

from jamie