Chapter Tags: smut, handjob, blowjob, p in v, prosititution, angst, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of murder
Chapter WC: 2109
The King’s Blessing Masterlist
SIX MONTHS LATER
Dean’s POV
“Is that okay?”
Dean’s head tips back into the pillow further, his eyes fluttering closed as he begins balling the bedsheets in his fists beneath him.
“So good, my love,” he hums, smiling softly.
She giggles, her hand continuing to move up and down his hard shaft, her thumb dragging over the tip of his cock and making it throb in her hand.
“Holy fuck,” he groans, his eyes shooting open and staring up at the ceiling.
The nails on her free hand softly drag down his thigh, making Dean tense his muscles, looking down at the lump under the bedsheets where she’s hidden herself. He reaches beneath the sheets with one hand, seeking out her soft hair as he plays with it between his fingers, and she giggles again, her hot breath landing on his inner thigh.
“Would you like me to use my mouth, your highness?” she purrs, pressing her wet lips to his skin to end her sentence.
“You know I would,” he chuckles, squeezing the hair of hers in his grasp, guiding her head closer to his crotch.
As soon as he feels her hot breath on his cock he stops, and lets her take it from there, feeling his cock throbbing in anticipation for what’s to come. But she’s a tease, giggling to herself because she knows what she’s doing as she lowers her head a little more and teases his balls with her tongue for a moment or two, before ever so slowly starting to lick from the root right up to the tip. Once she gets there she wraps her lips around him, beginning to suck gently on the spongy tip, her tongue swirling around expertly, like she’s done this a hundred times before. Dean hopes that she does it a hundred times more and only for him.
“Fuck, my love, you feel so good,” he hums, his eyes fluttering closed once again. “I’m so glad we finally get to do this.”
She hums around his length, taking him a little deeper, gagging slightly but not withdrawing. She’s always been eager to make him happy, and Dean had never considered how that might extend to the bedroom. He might be the luckiest man alive.
“Do you want to fuck me, your highness?” she hums as she pulls back, her hand once again working up and down his shaft.
“Yes,” he breathes out, his voice strained and somewhat distant. His mind is floating away now, into the bliss of being with his beloved like this, and he wonders why he ever wasted his time with whores when he should’ve just waited for this.
Once again, the prince tips his head back, his eyes closed tight as he feels Y/N climb up his body, straddling his waist as she hovers over him. Instinctively, Dean’s hands brush up her thighs, beginning to squeeze as he waits for her to lower herself down. It feels like time has stopped as he waits and waits and waits, but finally he feels himself pressing against her entrance, and then she slowly slides herself down, encasing him in warm, wet flesh that’s so tight it’s gripping him like a vice. Once she’s fully seated he feels her hands press down on his chest, and his hands travel further up her thighs to grab her hips and aid her movement, back and forth to begin with, feeling her loosen up enough to let him in comfortably. She moans and gasps as she adjusts to him, starting to slowly lift and drop herself up and down.
“Fuck, Y/N,” Dean lets slip, his hands squeezing her hips harder.
“Who’s Y/N?”
Dean’s eyes shoot open and he feels like he’s only just opening them for the first time. The sunlight is shining through the windows when he could’ve sworn it was nighttime, and these aren’t his sleeping chambers. He glances around himself to remember where he is and lets out a breath.
“Wait, isn’t she the queen of Lawrence?” the blonde pries, stopping her actions and just sitting there in his lap blinking at him.
Dean’s hazy memory slowly returns to him as he remembers the blonde from the night before, and starts to put the puzzle pieces together.
“What?” he questions, “no, not her,” he scoffs. “I thought that was your name?” he frowns, swallowing hard because he knows that’s a really shitty move.
But the whore still sitting on his cock doesn’t seem insulted – thank god – and chuckles softly.
“No, your highness,” she replies, “I don’t think you ever asked for it.”
“Oh.”
She chuckles softly once again, placing her hands on his chest once again and wiggling her hips slightly, causing Dean to moan involuntarily.
“But you can call me Y/N if you want to,” she smirks down at him. “I’ll be anyone for the right price, your highness.”
Dean forces a laugh and grabs the girl’s waist, intending on encouraging her off of him, but when she wiggles her hips again, he pauses, not sure he’s ready to end this quite so soon after all. The blonde might not be Y/N, but they’re never going to be Y/N, and Dean had to accept that fact six months ago when his betrothed married his father and became his new mother; queen.
Dean tries to not let his mind wander too far down that path, or he won’t be able to keep this girl entertained for very long, but just as he’s about to get his head back in the game and get his gold’s worth out of her, his chamber doors burst open unannounced.
Dean’s quick to shove the blonde out of his lap, sitting up to see who the hell has the guts to barge in on a prince in his own chambers; not even his grandparents, the lord and lady of this land, would think of doing such a thing.
“There you are.”
Dean frowns slightly, realising his eyes hadn’t quite finished adjusting to being awake until the intruder finally comes into focus.
“Sammy?”
“What the hell are you doing here, Sam?” Dean grunts as soon as the blonde has left with enough gold to keep her talented mouth shut about him calling her the wrong fucking name.
“What am I doing here?” Sam repeats. “What the hell are you doing here, Dean?”
Dean rolls his eyes at his brother’s dramatic flare and heads towards the wine, realising that his decanter is almost empty. He huffs, but pours what’s left into a glass.
“Do you have any idea what’s been going on at home since you left?” Sam presses.
“Our mother died, and our father married Y/N… think that about covers it,” Dean replies flatly, turning around to give his brother a sarcastic smile. “Why’d you think I’m here? I didn’t wanna stick around for that shit show.”
Dean scoffs to hide just how much those words actually hurt, and drinks some more wine, hoping that dulls the pain like it used to. But over the months it’s dulled the pain less and less.
“It’s been six months, Dean,” Sam reminds him.
“Yep, I settled quite nicely here. Enjoying the scenery, making the most of the culture,” he smirks, flashing his brother a wink.
“Dean, Lawrence needs you,” Sam pleads. “Now mother’s gone… father’s…”
“Fucking my betrothed?” Dean fills in for him. “Newsflash, Sammy, he was doing that before they got married. Fucked her the night our own mother died, did you know that?”
Sam frowns, licking his lips slightly. “Why didn’t you do something? She was your betrothed.”
“Why? Because he’s the fucking king.”
Sam purses his lips, seemingly unable to argue back about that, and Dean licks his lips, turning his back on his brother once again to look out of the window.
“Did you know that father was going to marry Y/N? Is that why you left before the wedding?”
Dean takes a deep breath, feeling his throat close up slightly at the very memory.
“I was with Y/N in her chambers when she was summoned to meet with father,” Dean starts to explain. “After a while I let curiosity get the better of me and found myself outside his door. I didn’t hear much, but I heard Y/N offer herself to him, and he accepted. I didn’t stick around, went back to my room, and drank a lot of wine. Father turned up a couple of hours later maybe, he was upset and he told me about mother dying. Started talking about needing another queen, I wondered if that’s why Y/N went to his chambers, and father said…” Dean trails off, finishing the last of his wine before he can continue. “Told me she was eager to accept his proposal. I knew someone needed to inform mother’s parents about her death, so I came to Campbell. I didn’t want to stick around and see it, you know?” Dean asks. “Laugh all you want, Sammy, but I truly loved Y/N.”
“Why would I laugh at that?” Sam asks sincerely, and then Dean senses him step up to stand alongside his brother.
“Because it was foolish of me to ever think that Y/N could feel the same way. Clearly all she cared about was the crown.” Dean scoffs at his own words and looks down into his empty glass, wishing there was more inside.
“Dean…” Sam starts, sighing. “She did love you, she still does.” Dean laughs humourlessly at his brother’s words, but it doesn’t discourage his brother from continuing. “She’s miserable. She was miserable on her wedding day and she’s miserable now. When we’re alone she asks about you. Father hasn’t told her where you’ve gone. If anything, it seems like he’s told her you left because you didn’t want to marry her anymore.”
Dean doesn’t say anything, unable to deny that it does sound like their father, and Dean wouldn’t put it past the king to lie like that if it gets him what he wants.
“Do you think he lied about Y/N being eager to marry him?” Dean wonders, though now he’s saying it out loud, he realises how stupid he’s been for all these months.
He may have felt like he didn’t know Y/N, but he knows her enough to know that being queen was never what was important to her. Obeying God, and being a good, honest wife and woman of the kingdom was what was important to her. But she was always naive and gullible, and his father would’ve taken full advantage of that, no doubt.
Sam doesn’t reply, like he knows that the answer is completely obvious, and Dean mentally curses himself for wasting so much of his time here hating Y/N and punishing her for what she’s done, when she’s just another of his father’s victims. He left because he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Y/N with his father, but he realises now how incredibly selfish that was, and how he left Y/N behind to deal with that without him. Sure, there wasn’t much he could do about it, but he could’ve at least shown her that she still had his support, even if it was from afar. John wanted him to leave, and he gave his father exactly what he wanted.
“She’s not pregnant yet,” Sam speaks up again. “Father’s getting rather impatient.”
“He’s trying to get her pregnant?” Dean asks, the thought having not even crossed his mind. He’d naively assumed that as he and Sam were adults now, that John would have considered his child bearing days to be over.
“Of course he is,” Sam scoffs. “You know why.”
Dean frowns, shaking his head.
“Dean, for as long as she doesn’t bear any children, she’ll be eligible to become someone else’s queen should something happen to him,” Sam points out.
Dean frowns, and then he realises just what Sam’s telling him. “Someone like me. I could still make her my queen.”
Sam nods softly. “If something were to happen to father,” Sam repeats more slowly.
Dean finally realises what his brother is implying and swallows hard. “I don’t… I don’t think I can do that. He’s not a good man but he’s still our father, Sam.”
“I know… but there’s something else I think you should know,” Sam tells him, his words a little more sombre now. Dean frowns, turning his body to fully face his brother as he waits. “I think he might’ve killed mother, and I’m worried Y/N will be next.”
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