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thewulf · 10 months

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Pretty Girl || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: So, the request/idea is an Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader where the reader is actually a criminology or psychology professor and is good friends with Spencer... Read Rest Here

A/N: Loosely based on one of my favorite story lines because I sat here for an hour trying to come up with a good enough story that’d stump Reid and failed. Mosely Lane. Doesn't get fluffy until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Dismissing the class for the weekend you sat back at your desk in the front of the auditorium strumming away at the keyboard. You heard the clapping before you saw him. Eyes crinkling a touch you smiled brilliantly at your longtime friend.

“Another excellent lecture Professor.” He grinned at you.

“Spencer!” You laughed shooting out of your seat hugging the tall lanky man tightly, “To what do I owe this visit to?” You asked after breaking apart from the hug.

His face shifted from one of joy to a downcast expression, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” He sighed taking a seat on your desk, “We need some help.”

You nodded listening, “Go on.”

He looked down as if he was ashamed to ask for help. As if he should’ve been good enough to solve it. But nobody was perfect. Sometimes cases can get away from you. You’ve had it happen once when every decision you made was the wrong one. It was always awful when you realized you might’ve made a mistake that got somebody killed.

“Kids. They’re just kids.” His voice wobbled as he looked back up to you. You felt your heart clench at the voice crack, “Another child was found off the Potomac just north of here.”

Your cocked your eyebrow in curiosity, “A local case? How many children?” You asked quickly hopping from professor to profiler in your mind.

He drew a deep breath, “Ten.”

Your eyes widened, “Over how long?” That was a lot of murdered kids. Who in their sick minds could do something like that? You’d been around a lot of sick people in your years in criminology, but this was already coming to the top of the twisted pile. Killing kids was another level of sick you despised coming across.

“A year and a few months.”

Your eyes bugged even further, “Christ.”

He nodded solemnly tossing the case file down on your desk. He watched as you meticulously poured over everything the team had put together in two weeks. You hummed and hawed as you fingers ran across the pages. Reading everything.

“These poor babies.” You let out an equally defeated sigh looking at the pictures of the mutilated bodies of the innocent.

He hummed in agreement, “We can’t figure it out. Another girl just got abducted in the same way the last boy was. We just found his body. I’m missing something here. I can’t see it.” You looked up at him. He looked utterly defeated. Tired eyes gave way to the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Messy hair and wrinkled clothing also adored his figure.

“I’m in. Let’s go.” You shoved your laptop in your bag before closing the massive case file to read in the car.

He gave you a confused look, “Right now? Don’t you have to teach?”

You nodded, “I’ll cancel it. Let’s go. Time is ticking for the girl. First to the office.” Hurriedly, you stood next to him eyeing him to lead the way. He nodded seeing your seriousness, You followed him all the way back to Quantico after calling your Dean. It had some perks, being the Director of Criminology at Georgetown. It almost made you giggle it sounded so ludicrous.

You flashed your badge having consulted on a few cases for different departments of the FBI. Security let you through in a flash. You’d never worked with Spencer on an actual case of his. Hell, he’d normally figure it out before he’d ever dream of pulling an outsider into the team. But even he knew he was missing something. A puzzle piece he couldn’t seem to find. That’s when he thought of you. His longtime friend from postgrad. The two of you were ostracized early in your studies. You for being an incredibly intelligent female and him because he was a know it all. The two of you found each other and the rest was history. You stayed in academia while consulting on the side and Spencer went the FBI route. Luckily, you’d stayed in touch through all the years. You found it easy to love him as a friend once you knew how to deal with the boy genius.

“Team, this is Y/N. Y/N, the team.” Spence said quickly once he all but yanked you into the large conference room on the floor. Your eyes glossed over each of them quickly before falling to the one on the end. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a smoldering look? Whew, he was just your type. He’d make you nervous. You didn’t see a ring on his finger as you scanned him from head to toe quickly.

You nodded bashfully. You could lecture hundreds of students but the eyes of six profilers right on you was rather intimidating, “Hello.” You nodded quickly walking over to the white board that listed intricate details of the case you hadn’t skimmed across in the file.

“Director of Criminology at Georgetown?” The handsome man stood next to you. A quick nod before turning your eyes back to the board.

“Yes, sir.” You cringed at your own voice sounding so unsure of herself. That wasn’t like you, not at all.

You noticed the hard stare turn to curiosity for a second before the stoic gaze returned, “Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.”

Ahh, the infamous Hotchner. You had to admit it was almost fun putting faces to the names you’d heard from Spencer throughout all the years. At no time did he mention that Hotch was as striking as you’d found him to be. It never crossed your mind to find them online. It seemed too invasive on Spencer’s life but now you were second guessing that decision.

“Nice to meet you Agent Hotchner.”

He wasn’t being unfriendly, but he certainly wasn’t warm. You could tell he didn’t want you here but agreed out of necessity. They weren’t able to save the seven-year-old boy and Aaron was sure as hell not going to let the little eight-year-old girl meet the same fate because of pride. Even though it stung.

He didn’t reply though, only giving you a quick nod. He stood there rereading the same damn sentences he’d read over a thousand times over the last week.

“This is the order they were taken and killed?” You pointed to the wall seeing the boy-girl pattern curiously.

“Seven-year-old boy and then an eight-year-old girl every time. Over and over.” It sounded like the case had depleted him entirely. Haunted eyes scanned over each of the children’s faces. Helpless. All looking eerily similar too each other.

“And you all interviewed 21 suspects in northern Virginia.” You stated more than questioned as you looked up to the curious eyes. They were expecting you, but they weren’t expecting you.

The blonde woman nodded with a gentle look settling on her face, “All dead ends.”

“Can I read their case files?” You asked ready to spend the next few hours scouring over the notes. Maybe a fresh set of eyes could pick up on something they’d missed.

She nodded running out of the room to grab them. Spencer watched you before joining you at the table as you read through the entire file from where you left off in the car. You thanked JJ when she set another

“Y/N will stay here with Reid. The rest of us, we’re heading back out.” Spencer nodded reading what you were. Still not seeing anything. He watched as you scrunched your eyebrows and highlighted certain words on the page. Gray Honda. Black scooter. Pink bike. What were you onto? What did you see? He wracked his brain as you worked seamlessly between pages.

You read over the next potential suspect. He must’ve heard the small gasp escape from your lips. As he immediately urged you to go on by asking, “What is it?”

“The Darcy’s. We need to go back. There’s something here Spence.” Your finger held over a simple line in the interview. One that’d been glossed over. A seemingly useless detail in a sea of muddled mess of facts and fiction.

He shook his head not getting it continuing to urge on with his eyes, “He messed up. He slipped up and said gray.” You started reading from the transcript, “He said, ‘I took the car out for a spin at that time.’ And then JJ asked, ‘What kind of car to you drive Mr. Darcy?’ He responded, ‘A gray… shoot I mean black Honda Civic. Sold the gray one last year to a family member.’”

His head cocked, “A gray Honda Civic... oh, shit.” He dove into the papers finding exactly what you were looking for, “The interview with the witness who found the body. She spotted a gray Honda along her route.”

You nodded, “She thought it was odd because it was so early in the morning. Nobody is ever out.”

“We need to call Penelope.” Spencer gaped.

He pulled out his phone, “Garcia, who did David Darcy’s sell his car to last year?”

She hummed, “Well hello to you too! Give me a second boy genius.” You heard her typing away through the speaker phone, “Looks like it’s Mike Darcy. His brother.”

He looked at you with nothing but approval. He knew you were good at your job, but this was exceptional. You’d pieced it together so easily he was almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught that himself, “What do you have on him?” He asked. Again, silence with more typing before another really long silence and the faintest gasp.

“Garcia?” Spencer was finding it rather infuriating he was the one on the other side. He was the one who couldn’t seem to piece it all together. It wasn’t like him.

“He lost his entire family in a car accident two years ago. His wife and two children.”

He was shaking his head know all too well the aged of those two children, “An eight-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy?”

“They don’t call you boy genius for nothing right?” Her laugh sounded strained but relieved. It wasn’t an easy life. Often times so much harder than you could ever dream of. The horror of humanity never ceased to amaze you in the worst ways imaginable.

“Thanks Penny. We gotta call Hotch.” Reid’s eyes were huge before as he dialed his boss’s number, “Hotch, you’re never going to believe this.” He walked off spouting off everything you’d just concluded. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, you listened to your friend off in the distance. It had to be the brother. That had to be the missing puzzle piece.

You felt somebody watching you as you cleaned the files up. You’d begged Spencer to let you go but he straight up refused. Hotch wanted to talk to you or some bullshit like that. You’d, very reluctantly, agreed.

“We looked for days.” His voice sounded harsher. A bit meaner than it did earlier. You turned to meet his eyes that looked how his voice sounded, unhappy with you.

“Just needed a fresh set of eyes was all.” His eyes didn’t change. His state only seemed to harden as he took you in.

“Thank you. She was found safe.” It sounded as if it was torturing him to give you the thanks.

You nodded quickly turning back around to clean the mess up, “Anytime.” He didn’t look bad by any means. Must’ve been a pretty easy arrest. You’d seen Spencer at his worst after unsub’s had been confronted. It was inevitable when you hunted the worst of humanity.

“We won’t be needing your services any longer.” Your heart both sped up and dropped a little at that statement. He didn’t like you. Plain and simple. Had you done something to piss him off? Upset him somehow? You ran through the events of the last few hours and came up miserably short. You’d just have to ask Spencer later.

Before you could respond though an older, almost more intimidating than him, woman walked into the room shaking her head, “That’s not what we agreed on Aaron.” She turned to smile at you, “Erin Strauss, BAU Section Chief.” She walked over to shake your hand eyeing you up. You’d were curious to what she was thinking as she approached you.

“I didn’t agree.” He all but mumbled out. That didn’t sound like the intimidating man that had just tried to put you in your place moments before.

“One vote matters more.” She turned to him. She must’ve given him a look you couldn’t see because he mumbled an agreement. It was surely a sight to be seen. Spencer would eat this one up later. Your longtime friend loved gossiping even though he’d never admit to it.

“That was impressive.” She kept sizing you up, profiling you. She wasn’t shy about doing it either. She’s the big boss and she knew it, used it.

“A new set of eyes can do wonders.” You’d downplay it, for Aaron’s sake. Not that he deserved any of your mercy at this point. He hadn’t exactly been the nicest too you.

She nodded quick, “Sure.” She didn’t have the time to go back and forth with you, “You teach close?”

“Yes I do. Georgetown.” You kept it short and sweet not bothering to elaborate with details she clearly didn’t care about.

A smile broke out on her face, “Dean Willow is a dear old friend of mine. I’ll give him a call. We may call in the future. That is if you want.”

She was giving you the option now, “I would like that. Real world examples are invaluable for my students.” You could’ve sworn you heard a scoff from over her shoulder.

She smiled though, “Wonderful. I’ll give him a call later. Nice to meet you Doctor?” She questioned trying to find out more about you.

You nodded giving her the confirmation you too were one, just like Reid. He wasn’t the only one with a PhD, “Nice to meet you as well Erin.”

She walked off quickly leaving you alone with Aaron. Instead of chatting with him you turned back to the table trying to finish what you’d started long ago, cleaning the damn table up.

“You have no right.” His voice was much louder, much closer now.

Heart hammering in your chest you had to be strategic here, “It was an offer.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and gentle for the moment. You hated confrontation this aggressively, it always seemed to get the best of you.

His lips pursed as he considered his words, “Stay out of the way.” Was all he said before walking out just like Aaron. Yikes. That couldn’t have gone worse.

You’d been called back for almost every local case and even a few further away ones that needed urgency on the clock. That’s where you’d seemed to thrive when the clock was ticking. It never seemed to get better with Aaron. He was cold with you. Never downright mean but brushing the line that he knew he couldn’t cross. Still, you’d never seemed to grow to dislike the man. Spencer let it slip that he felt like he let the entire team down when I came in and solved a case in hours.

You knew how finnicky pride could be. You knew just how dangerous that emotion could turn out to be. You’d let it get the better of you a few times. That was the difference between life and death though. The difference between bringing a family back together or giving them the worst news of their lives. So, you’d give Aaron a pass even if he didn’t really deserve it.

You’d also grown to adore his team. You’d made sure to ask Spencer time and time again to confirm that you weren’t overstepping but he shook it off each time telling you that he enjoyed having you on some of the cases. It brought him back to the fun they had in post-grad all those years ago. Naturally, you’d gravitated towards your friend during the cases you’d been asked to join. Aaron’s eyes always seemed to be glaring at you whenever you caught him. You had a sneaking suspicion you didn’t catch him nearly as often as you did.

Spencer would always just tell you that it was just Aaron. But it had been months now and he was still as ice cold as he was on day one. One by one you’d become close with each of the other members but never dreamed of approaching him. He’d let you know just how much he disliked you. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

A call came through in the dead of night waking you from the light sleep you were in, always ready, “Hello?” You sounded groggy.

“Y/N. It’s Strauss. Another abduction. Fifteen-year-old girl this time.” She didn’t elaborate waiting for your response.

You sighed, “Why is it always children? I’ll be there in forty.”

Sleepily, you drove into Quantico. You were delighted to see you were the last on there, the team already at work. Yawning you slipped into the conference room greeted by a rather

“Y/N! You’re here. I was getting nervous.” Emily smiled patting your shoulder before moving over next to JJ.

Derek laughed, “Pretty boy was just about to call.”

You grinned looking over at Spence, “Sorry guys, the apartment is closer to Georgetown than it is here.” Your commute was just under an hour. Forty minutes if you pushed it.

“We’re just glad you’re here.” JJ chimed in patting the seat next to her, “We think we have a lead, come take a look.”

Hotch watched in awe as you moved to sit next to her. You’d seamlessly integrated yourself as a semi-permanent member of his team. They’d all seen you an integral member to specific types of cases. Cases that had time constraints. And unfortunately for you that seemed to be child abductions more often than not. Had he been too harsh on you? Was he doing it to protect his team that didn’t even need it? He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answers to those questions, and it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

He continued to watch as Rossi joked with you, Reid smiled far more often than he’d been used to, Derek already gave you the nickname ‘pretty girl’ to match Spencer’s own pretty boy. You brought ease and order to the team. You took the stress and siphoned it out of a situation. Even Aaron had to admit you were a hell of a profiler. He wasn’t blind either. He found you exceptionally beautiful. A detail Spencer conveniently left out.

He knew he might’ve already burnt that bridge with you though. He’d been nothing but an ass to you. You’d never snapped back though. Always taking everything in grace. You knew the pecking order and it wasn’t up to you to dismantle that or shake up the status quo.

Spencer noticed Hotch’s apprehension to his friend. Spence felt awful that his boss had yet to warm up to you. You were nothing but kind and incredibly good at your job. A combination that Hotch was usually a sucker for. Was his pride really that badly wounded?

He heard you let out a string of cuss words seeing the pictures of the last crime scene. Brutal. Absolute brutality. Whomever was doing this to children was beyond help.

“Jeeze Y/N, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Derek smirked laying it on thick. That comment brought Hotch right back into the present far too curious to hear what you had to say.

You threw your head back in laughter, “Hardly Derek. Between the teaching, directing and this. I don’t have the time to go meet anybody.”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Hotch’s so quickly even you didn’t catch it, “Who says you haven’t met him already?” Your eyes found his, a fiendish persona reveled in your bashfulness after tops of your cheeks turned a twinge pink.

You couldn’t let him win like that. Not with all those eyes listening in to the conversation intently, “In your wildest dreams Morgan.” A wink sent him into a fit of laughter. He too loved your ability to give and take. Knowing how to play along with him seamlessly.

Hotch coughed drawing all those curious eyes back to him, “Let’s get moving. Reid and JJ head back to police station and update the chief on the latest. Emily and Rossi go update the family. Morgan and Y/N you’re with me. Unsubs house.” You gave him a twisted look. You’d never been with him, and you’d certainly never been to an Unsubs residence while on a case. You were a profiler. A professor. Not a cop. Not comfortable with confrontation your heart was already picking up the pace just thinking about it.

“I don’t think this is a great idea sir…” You’d managed to mumble out once most of the team had cleared the room. You were sure your nervousness was full front, and center displayed across your facial features.

He cocked his head studying you again. Always studying you. Always on guard around you, “I think it is.”

You cursed under your breath almost embarrassed to admit it to him, “I’ve never done that before, going to an active scene.”

He shrugged loosening his gaze a smidge for the first in front of you, “First time for everything. You’ve been through the training in the last few months. You can do it.” He nodded eyeing the door but making sure your head was in it before he left. Last thing he needed was you not 100% ready and getting injured. He knew you were ready for it though. He’d had a daft curiously of how you’d handle that type of pressure.

The three of you sped to the crime scene. Morgan forced you to sit up front by diving into the truck and taking the entirely of the back seat up shooting you a sly grin before shutting the door. You felt the weight of the bulletproof vest

“Stay behind me, pretty girl. We’ll go room to room on the main level.” Derek spoke with conviction once the three of you made it to the front of the home. Your heart was hammering so hard you could hear the blood echoing in your ears. Focus. You could do this. Aaron believed you could.

Hotch nodded, “I’ll take upstairs. Listen to Morgan.” He ordered before nodding at Derek. All hell broke loose as you went room to room clearing. Before you heard the gunshots upstairs. Morgan rushed upstairs with you behind him. Hotch stood with his gun pointed at the now deceased unsub who had a shotgun in his own procession.

“The girl. Where is she?” You asked turning away from the blood spatter that laced the wall behind the body.

“Go, find her.” He barked turning away from the kill. You prayed that was something you never had to do.

You ran out downstairs searching. It wasn’t until you found the basement door that you flew down there. A strangled gasp came from your throat as you spotted the girl in the corner on a bloody mattress. You shuddered at the thought that it wasn’t only her blood coating that mattress.

“Hotch! Morgan! She’s down here!” You bellowed out dropping the gun immediately and softening your expression after witnessing the shaking, bound girl. She’d been beat up. Quite a few times by the look of differently faded bruises littered haphazardly around her hardly dressed body.

You unzipped your jacket clutching it in your hand. Putting your hands up you dropped down to your knees keeping a distance away letting her know you weren’t a threat. You put your hands up, “Hi sweetheart. My name is Y/N. I work for the FBI and we’re here to help you. Can I bring you this jacket to cover up?” You asked her in your most gentle voice. Like you were talking to the most helpless soul on the planet. She might’ve been at that very moment.

Aaron and Derek watched from the stairwell as you stood up walking over to her with slow small steps. Once you reached her you dropped down again, “Is it alright if I touch you? What hurts the worst sweetheart?”

She shook her head before breaking. Breaking down completely. The tears turned to ugly sobs. She reached out for you, and you grabbed her quickly. Pulling her right into your embrace. She fisted your shirt like her life depended on it unaware of the two men watching the scene unfold before them. They’d called for an ambulance and just had to wait. But you were there for her. He felt a light flutter in his stomach as he watched you caress her face and play with her hair. Whispering in her ear and hold her tight. You were a natural. Aaron could see it plain as day now.

Slowly her harsh wails turned to strained tears. Almost all her energy depleted as she leaned on you. You wrapped your jacket around her small frame to cover whatever decency she had left. The poor babies life was over as she knew it. Her life was going to be an uphill battle from this point going forward. Your heart shattered as you brought her back into your chest. Whispering those sweet reassurances to the utterly broken girl sitting in your lap.

Once the ambulance took her away Hotch turned towards you observing once more. Your usually chipper grin was downturned. It had affected you more than he had sensed. It was hard. Impossible sometimes. And this was a good outcome. An exceptional one even.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked finally letting that guard down.

You nodded so softly he didn’t know if you truly meant it or not, “Yeah. I just… I’ve never done that. Spence always told me stories, but I guess… I don’t know.” You sighed at a loss for words.

He stepped forward placing a hand on your shoulder this time, “It’s okay. It’s difficult. We all know. But think of the good you’d done. You were there for her when she needed it most. We didn’t train you for that. You’re just a good person. Don’t let this job ever take that away from you.”

Your mouth almost dropped as listened to him. He was always a man of so few words this felt like an all on speech for you. So long was that hard gaze you grew to expect over the last few months and was replaced with something much softer and kinder. The look he gave him other agents. The ones he’s known and worked with for years. Maybe Spence was right, maybe he was warming up to you a bit.

Things had been going well. Another month had passed, and you’d been called on for few more cases. You’d refused pay simply because you came and went as you had time. You called it tunning up for your professorship.

Aaron had completely warmed up to you over that time. You were still terribly timid around him. Old habits died hard with you. But he was trying. Making small gestures when you were around. Getting you coffee, holding open the door for you, smiling a little bit more.

It wasn’t lost on the team. They’d seen the change even if you refused to. Spencer constantly bugged you about it once Morgan put a big in his ear. Planted a seed that bloomed in that beautiful brain of his.

Aaron had a scowl on his face watching you and Spencer joke around in the conference room. Why weren’t you even remotely like that with him?

“You could just tell her instead of shooting daggers at Reid.” Derek clapped his bosses back cracking a smile at him.

“She doesn’t like me.” The scowl dropped as he turned towards his agent.

“So, you think. More intimidated by you than doesn’t like you. You were kind of an ass there for a while.” Derek egged his boss on. It wasn’t often he was able to get under his skin.

Aaron rolled his eyes, through gritted teeth he answered him, “I know Morgan.”

“Why were you anyway?” He asked, digging for more and more. The true king of gossip at Quantico.

He shrugged, “To protect you guys. She was an outsider. We didn’t know anything about her.”

Derek let out a laugh that even drew your attention away from Spencer and over to them. Giving them a sheepish wave, you looked away back to Spence quickly. Aaron’s hard eyes turned soft made you feel a certain type of way. He was back to being that handsome man you first laid eyes on. A man who seemed so far out of your league it was laughable.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man. But we both know that’s not the case. It’s okay to have feelings after Haley. It’s been years Hotch.” Morgan squeezed his shoulders urging his friend on, “I’m going to go grab Reid. Go apologize and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised. Go be happy instead of being jealous.”

He mumbled something incoherent but didn’t stop him. Spencer gave Derek a knowing look. You waved him off turning back to the case you were reviewing. It wasn’t a moment later the same chair Spencer

“I’m sorry.” He spit it out certainly not afraid to beat around the bush with it.

Tilting your head to the side you asked, “What for?”

“Being an ass your first few months here.” Again, he was com

You were a bit stunned, “Oh, thanks. I’m happy to be here.”

“You are an exceptional profiler Y/N and an incredible asset to this team. You’ve got a heart of gold. You work with victims better than anybody I’ve seen. Do you know how heartwarming that is to witness? You’re a natural with it all. So, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to have you here.” He let out a breath after airing it out there.

Your heart rate sped up to that rapid rate that made you feel almost uncomfortable, “You mean it?”

“Every last word.” He looked at you expectantly. It could go either way. Either really good or horrifically bad.

You gave him your first genuine smile. One he’s seen come out for everybody else except for him. Until now, “Thank you Aaron. That was very kind.”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s the truth.” You could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

You felt a weird surge of confidence brush over you, “For the record. I’ve really enjoyed working for you. With you. I’ve learned a lot.” You too wanted to say something more, but the words were impossible to think of.

The tension was thick. But Aaron decided to cut it. Throwing caution to the wind, “Since you technically don’t work here I don’t think what I’m going to say next is really crossing the line.” He breathed taking a second before gathering the courage he needed, “You are absolutely beautiful Y/N. Inside and out. You’ve been chipping away at my heart ever since you stepped into this world. You are exceptional. I like you. Way more than a boss should. Way more than a friend should.”

Your mouth did drop this time. That was everything you wanted to hear and exactly what you expected not to hear. He liked you? You’d thought back on the month and didn’t see the signs. It seemed so obvious once he spoke it so clearly.

You started giggling at the hilarity of it all.

“What?” He asked smiling, easing back in his chair feeling eased by the lightness of the room.

“I can profile everything but my own damn life.” You kept giggling only to be stopped when he grabbed your hands.

“You’re even prettier when you laugh like that.”

Your blush was mad by now, “Thank you Aaron.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime? On a date? A proper one. Where we get dressed really nice. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant. All that jazz.”

You smiled even wider, “If that’s really what you want.”

Squeezing your hand as a confirmation he nodded, “Pretty girl, it’s all I want.” His grin was everything as you both sat there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools.

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wilwheaton · 3 months

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Phillips continued his bid for Ackman’s support in a Monday appearance on Twitter spaces with Ackman, Elon Musk and tech notable Jason Calacanis.

Dean Phillips ‘Gimme Some Lovin’ Campaign Hits Silicon Valley

Dean Phillips is a dipshit loser who won’t be president, and he has the attention of these garbage men, which should tell you everything you need to know about him.

But what caught my eye here was Calacanis, who I see has become something of a lapdog for Elon Musk, desperately, pathetically, hoping that he can pick up one or two crumbs that Musk drops on the floor.

I knew Jason Calacanis in the early 2000s, and worked for him for about a year. I figured out real quick that he was a gross tech bro who lied the way most people breathe, a total sociopath. But I never would have predicted that he would be such a Quisling for Musk, or so completely comfortable hanging out with the Nazis at the core of the Musk fanbase.

What a fucking loser, fawning to that fascist piece of shit. Jesus Christ, Jason. Have some self respect.

“Tech notable”. Ha. “Predatory Capitalist who bought established networks and websites, ran them into the ground, sold them off and pocketed incredible amounts of money, leaving all of us who did the work and built the brands out in the cold with little to no warning or meaningful severance,” is more accurate. And he did it over and over and over. He’s not a tech genius. He’s not an innovator. He’s not a creator. He’s a predatory venture capitalist, and that’s it.

He thinks he’s a larval Elon Musk, and he doesn’t realize the most he’ll ever be is the dollar store knock-off toy version of an Elon Musk action figure with mismatched hands.

I really hope that Calacanis’s despicable behavior for decades catches up to him. He’s a really bad guy.

#fuck elon musk

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uh-ohspaghettio · 8 days

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Do you think when Cas was turned into an action figure by the anti-Christ he enjoyed being held by Dean

#spn #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas

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scoobydoodean · 4 months

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#poll

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mrcowboydeanwinchester · 9 months

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the thing that makes me absolutely crazy insane about ellen harvelle is that she is so young. like SO young. samantha ferris was only 39 when she played her in s2 which, if ellen is the same age, means that ellen was TWENTY when she had jo. and dies aged 42. like she is this great Maternal Figure in the early seasons of the show but she is so young herself for all that to be placed upon her. her husband died when she was 27 like jesus christ there is an 11 year age gap between her and dean !!!

#OF COURSE SHE IS WRONG ABOUT SO MUCH HER DAUGHTER IS ALMOST HER SISTER #like what an insane dynamic to have with a child #you are raising alone #like. i just. god ellen harvelle everyone #ellen harvelle #ola originals

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k-slla · 3 months

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I see your requests are open. 🙏🏼

Can you write something where reader is a hunter and she and dean aren’t particularly friendly. Maybe she thinks he’s a bit of a dick. Reader wears baggy clothes and doesn’t really dress like anything other than a hunter. There’s a case where she needs to look feminine and sexy and dean says she can’t do it and she proves him wrong obviously and ends up turning him on ridiculously in the process. So much that he ends up mastabating in front of her and it’s super hot!!! 🥵 🙏🏼

Minute Past Midnight

A/N: Hi, anon, thank you for this request, I hope you'll like it!

Warnings: 18+ONLY, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, mutual masturbation, fingering, implied unprotected PinV, car sex, teasing (takes place around se10-11, so possible spoilers)

WC: ~5k | My Masterlist

All mistakes are mine! Feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy!

“What do you mean by “Y/N will get it done”? Have you actually seen her?” Dean took a mean jab at you. You couldn’t help but scoff. “Gee, thanks, Dean, for the word of confidence.” You snarled at him as you got up from the library table, where you and the boys were putting together your next game plan for stealing the Compass from Jacob Styne. The one and only device that could help you to find the Book of the Damned to remove the Mark from Dean’s arm. Because, well, you had to be honest with yourself - Dean had changed a lot with it. It was expected of course, with the Mark it being a curse and all. At least you didn’t have to deal with him when he was still a demon. That would have been the last drop for you, so you were very grateful that Sam and Cas got that handled on their own.

“Of course she can do it, Dean! We’ll just have to find a way to get to him.” Sam turned the laptop towards Dean and you, nervously pacing around behind Dean’s chair. “And I’ve done it already. His family will be hosting some kind of gala, for marrying off their daughter, which..I don’t know..sounds kind of.. actually a lot of weird to me.” Sam said, lightly grimacing at the screen.

“So, we’ll have to gatecrash their party.. Don’t you think they’ll recognize us?” You were a little skeptical. Sam gave a quick look over your clothes. “I think we’ll be safe, if we just look the part.” You groaned, knowing what this will lead to. You’d have to wear a gown. Yuck. There was a reason for you why you dressed the way you dressed, baggy jeans and oversized sweaters were your go to, and that reason was comfortability and practicality. That was important for you on hunts.

“Well, I’ll be looking for a gown then. When’s it happening?” You sat atop the table next to the one boys were sitting at. Sam focused on the computer for a minute, looking for the exact info on the party.

“It’s..in two days.” Sam finally said slowly. You gulped comically loudly. Two days to find a dress, shoes, and figure out the whole situation with your hair and make up. It..will be great.

Dean suddenly got up from the table. “Well, we’re screwed then.” He sighed loudly and turned to leave to the kitchen. “What do you mean?” Sam asked curiously. Dean turned around and looked back at you two. “Sorry, but look at her. She hasn’t seen a dress for once in her life. What makes you think she can seduce Styne AND steal the Compass from him? We might as well accept the fact that the Mark is not coming off my arm. We’re screwed!” Exasperated yell left his lips, making him push some books off the shelf next to the door he was standing.

“Jesus fucking Christ, honestly, Dean! Is there anything you can do and not throw a fit like a six year old with it? Have I ever let you down in the past five years that we’ve known each other? Have some fucking faith in me. I'll get it done. And even if we don't get the Compass, we'll find some other way then.” Now you had lost your temper too, and your breathing quickened when you saw Dean storming back to stand in front of you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He said with a feigned sweetness. “But as long as you look like this?” His eyes ran over your outfit, and he didn't even need to say anything specific about it, you knew exactly what he meant with that look. Who would ever look at you? “I will have a hard time trusting that you can seduce anybody. So yeah, I'll start thinking of plan B.” He turned to leave again, walking straight past the books he'd pushed off before.

You glared after him angrily. It got personal for you, and you were determined to prove him wrong.

For the whole next day you were looking for a dress for the gala. It was exhausting. The plan was for you and the boys to attend the gala, and while they were keeping an eye out for anything suspicious, you were “entertaining” Jacob Styne, because he was probably the one who's possession the Compass was in.

But you did it. You found the perfect dress. Silk black spaghetti strapped A-line gown with a deep neckline and a slit running dangerously high up your thigh. You were nervously pacing in your room, before going out to Sam and Dean. You were so out of your comfort zone. You couldn't have any weapons on you, if you wanted to get really close to Styne. If anything goes wrong, you have to trust the boys to get you out.

“Y/N, come on! We'll be late!” You heard them call you. You stopped on your doorway and took a few deep breaths to calm your nerves. “Here goes nothing.” You whispered quietly.

Walking into the War Room, where Sam and Dean were waiting for you, you suddenly got self-conscious, but you couldn't show it out. You felt naked. Dean choked a little on his whiskey.

“I know, I know. I look ridiculous. He's not gonna fall for it.” You mocked him annoyingly and grabbed your phone from the table.

“Actually..you look…nice..really nice.” Dean said slowly, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. “Thanks..you do too.” You said carefully as your eyes traveled down his body. He really did look good in a tuxedo. You noticed that Sam wasn't dressed. “Wait, why aren't you dressed?”

“I'm not going. You two are.” Sam smirked. “Come on, you really thought it would work if you marched in there with both of us in tow?” He asked when he saw your suddenly blank face. Those bastards played you. Sam knew you would never agree to go there with Dean alone, and he waited until the last minute to tell you that. Now that you're dressed to the nines, you had no other choice. What was supposed to be maybe even a little bit of a fun night for you, just got awkward. You did not want to be alone with Dean. Not at all. He was too big of a dick for that. And with that revelation, the last bit of your good mood was gone.

“Whatever. Let's just go.” You turned around quickly, so that the skirt of your dress twirled in the movement, revealing your leg from the slit. You heard a groaning behind you, followed by a low “fuck” from Dean. He got up from the chair and you looked back to see if he followed you. Instead, he held his tux jacket in front of his crotch and was really flustered. “I- ahem, I forgot something..uhh, in my room. Be back in 10. Mmm.. actually..make it 15.” You rolled your eyes at him “Is this a joke?” You asked incredulously. He looked back over his shoulder. “I can't go out like this! I'll have to take care of it.” He hurried towards his room.

“For fuck’s sake, Dean! Hurry up!” You yelled after him, not bothering to hide your annoyance. “Fucking joke..” a quiet mumble, meant only for yourself, slipped past your lips.

Sam stifled a laugh. “Good luck, Y/N, you'll need it.”

About an hour later, you and Dean walked into the manor. Both grabbed a glass of champagne and tried to keep a low profile for a while to gather some information on Styne.

“So, I'll go find Jacob and get the Compass from him. I'll call you when it's done or when I'll need some back up. Go and “mingle”, I guess..” You smiled at Dean and started to make your way to the other side of the room to the bar, where you saw Jacob sitting a bit earlier.

You clumsily “stumbled” when trying to sit down and caught yourself at Jacob's shoulder, pouring a little Champagne onto his lap. “I'm so so sorry, sir!” You quickly grabbed some napkins from the top of the bar and started to pat his pants dry. “I am really sorry.” You looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “It's alright, miss. All's good.” Smiling at him widely, you managed to sit down next to him, lightly brushing your bare leg against his. He flagged down the bartender, who didn't leave him waiting. “Let me buy you a drink. What would you like?” he smiled at you charmingly, making warm blush climb up your cheeks and you almost forgot why you were there in the first place. He was handsome, you couldn’t deny that. You turned to the bartender and said the first drink that hopped into your mind. “French 75, please.”

“You heard the lady, and Whiskey for me. Neat.”

Both of your eyes were dancing on each other's faces. For you, that was just an act, but you had no idea what he was thinking. Your mind was occupied with Dean and some lucky girl who he probably had with him already, but you had to get that sight out of your mind immediately.

“I haven't introduced myself yet. Jacob Styne.” He said and took your hand to place a kiss on it. “Irene Rivera.”

“My pleasure, Miss Rivera. What would you say, if I suggest taking these drinks to my room?”

You bit your lower lip teasingly. “Mm, I’d say “lead the way”.”

You walked through the maze of hallways, remembering your path for later to send directions to Dean in case you needed some rescue.

You got up to his room and as soon as he closed the door, he put away your drinks and his lips crashed onto yours and hands started to feel up your body. You knew he was searching for any hidden knives or a gun. He wasn't stupid, and you definitely weren't stupid to take weapons with you. In turn you moved your hands over his chest, feeling something possibly resembling the Compass in his jacket's pocket. As you faked your pleasure of his hands on your body, you pulled away from his kiss, panting hard. “May I- may I use the restroom quickly?” He pointed towards the right of you.

You shut the door behind you and exhaled deeply.

After getting your phone out, you shot a quick text to Dean.

“In his room. He has the Compass. 2nd floor, left hallway from main staircase, last door to the right. Be here in 10!”

You stared at yourself in the mirror, giving a little pep talk. “You can do this. Just a little sleight of hand. Probably a little more kissing. Nothing you haven’t done before.” You took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom.

He was sitting down on the couch already, with your drinks in hand.

“Join me.” You sat down close to him and took your drink from him, but you didn't dare to take another sip from that. Instead, you put the glass to the side table and went to straddle his hips, kissing him carnally. “I think we were in the middle of something.” You whispered against his lips, cringing on the inside from how desperate you made yourself sound, but it was all just part of the job. With intention to slip the Compass out of it, you started to push his jacket off his shoulders. His kisses moved down to your chin, drawing low moans out of you, and then up again along your jawline.

“Tell me, Miss Irene, how stupid do you think I am? Did you really think that I would fall for your little scheme?” He whispered into your ear and caught your hands to keep you strongly in place. You started to struggle with desperation to get off of him. “Fuck! Let go of me!” When you saw he had no intention to release your hands, you kneed him hard to his balls and got off his lap.

“You stupid bitch!” He groaned out of pain and quickly tripped you with his leg to stop you from getting away. “No! Dean!” He pinned you down to the floor, one hand holding your wrists while the other one closed around your neck. “Dean! Help!” You screamed out before he cut off your air. “Dean? Not as in Dean Winchester?” Your eyes started to water quickly, you still tried your best to fight him off, squirming under him as much as you could. Where was he? “Please.. don’t..” But Styne clearly enjoyed the view of you squirming under him, slowly starting to give up the fight. “Oh, sweetheart, it’s too late to start begging now. If Dean finally decides to join us, this party will be really fun!” he grinned down at you.

“I don't think so.” Dean had stormed into the room and hit Styne in the head with his gun. It had no effect on him and his hand was still around your neck. “You have to try harder than that if you want to sav-” Dean suddenly pushed him off of you and held against the floor while five shots rang through the air. You gasped loudly and coughed hard to normalize your breathing again.

Your ears were ringing loudly from the shots fired close to your head. Dean helped you up from the floor and pulled you into a quick hug. “Are you alright?” You gathered yourself before nodding at him. Dean let go of you and squatted down to search Styne’s pockets for the compass. After securing it in his hands, he guided you out of the room. You heard quick steps coming up the stairs, from more than one pair of feet. You had no gun and there was no way that Dean could take all them on alone.

“We have to hide.” You whispered and pulled him towards a door, you were happy to discover it to be an empty closet. “In here.” Both of you held your breaths, as you stood in the small space, your bodies pressed tight together, and you waited for them to pass your door.

You felt something hard press into your thighs, and while you knew that he wouldn’t even see it because you were backed against him, you still felt the need to lift your eyes up. “Dean..” You said slowly. “What?” he whispered back. “Please..please tell me that it’s not your boner pressing at my thigh?” you blurted out, without thinking. Dean started to choke on air after your question. “Wha- uhh..it’s not..just uh..my gun...”

Not knowing what had just possessed you to make you this bold, you turned around as quickly as you managed in the small room and palmed his dick through the pants. You had never been this forward with a man before so you blamed it on the adrenaline rush from the fight before. “Really? Is that the same “gun” you’re holding in your left hand, or one for backup? Because..” you looked up at him through your lashes and continued rubbing his cock. “..this one’s much bigger…and thicker.” You squeezed him tightly, making a trembling breath escape from his lips. “Don’t do this, Y/N..please, not now. Don’t tease me like that.” he begged quietly, trying to back away from you. Squinting your eyes, you smiled at him. “What? You don’t like being teased? Am I too mean to you?” You let the words roll slowly off your lips, enjoying the strained expression on Dean’s face. “Heh, ahem, just a little, yeah..” He gasped out as you let go of him. You brushed your thumb over his full bottom lip. “Take it as retaliation. You’ve been a complete dick to me for the past five years. Payback’s a bitch, isn’t it?” You smirked at his speechless face and opened the door slightly, to check if it’s safe to go out again.

You heard yelling coming from downstairs, as Jacob’s family tried to find whoever was responsible for his death. “If we do it quickly, I think we can sneak out of here.” You whispered over your shoulder to Dean and slipped out of the door, checking your left and right before motioning Dean to follow. You quietly snuck through the hallways, trying to avoid getting caught. Unfortunately it didn’t go that well.

As soon as you got downstairs, you were spotted and under direct fire. Dean started covering you, but it still wasn’t enough and you got grazed by a bullet in the shoulder. “Ow, fuck!” You shouted and ducked down immediately. “Are you okay?” Dean asked between shots. “Yeah, just a graze. I’ll be fine.” You were almost at the front door and when Dean pulled it open, both of you bolted towards Baby.

Safely in the car, Dean pulled away from the spot with the squeal of the tires. “Let’s get onto the main road, then we’ll make a little stop and I’ll help you with your shoulder, alright?” He took a quick glance at you. “Okay, yeah, thanks.” you said quietly, looking only at the road.

You were driving in silence, only sounds coming from you were occasional groans, when you moved your arm. Luckily it seemed to you that the cut wasn’t that deep that you’d need stitches, although you knew you'd let Dean make the final decision.

After a few minutes he pulled aside from the road, got out of the car and walked to the trunk to get the first aid kit. You followed his lead and climbed out of the car. Sitting on the hood, you kept the pressure on your wound until he finally joined you.

“We only have some vodka here to clean your wound, it’s not the best, but it’ll do until we get back to the Bunker.” He gently removed your hand from your shoulder to take a closer look at the wound. “I think you won’t need stitches. But it’ll hurt like hell.” You only managed to nod a little, knowing very well that it’s going to hurt.

“Wait, wait, wait.” You stopped Dean from cleansing the gash. His proximity and smell of his spicy, leathery cologne made you slightly dizzy and...needy. “I need a sip of that.” you reached out your hand and waited for him to hand you the bottle. “Uh..okay.” He couldn’t hold back his surprise. You chugged three big gulps from the bottle, enjoying the warmth of alcohol spreading inside you.

That's what you thought it was. Or it was just the effect of Dean on you. You handed the bottle back to him, and the last of the vodka left in there, he poured onto your shoulder, making you bite down on your fist. “Son of a-!” Dean immediately applied pressure on the wound, slightly lessening the stinging sensation with that. “Shit, that hurt!” You couldn't hold back a light laugh.

“Told you.” he said with a small smile while he dried your skin around the graze before applying a bandage over it. “All done. You'll live.” He leaned onto the hood of the car next to you.

Your eyes locked into his and you smiled fondly at him, gratitude clear on your face. You tried to remember the exact moment you actually fell for that man. Was it at the first sight, when he had saved your life? Was it just after he invited you to live and hunt with them a few years back? Or maybe it was the moment when you saw how desperately Dean was ready to fight for his loved ones. He was always ready to save his baby brother, no matter what it took from him. He may seem like a complete dickhead at first glance, but in reality Dean was the most selfless, most compassionate man you had ever met.

“Thank you, Dean.” He looked at you with a surprised expression, as if he didn't believe you had really said those words. “Hey, no worries. We were caught in the fire, I'd patch you up again if needed to. We did it though. Got the Compass.” Comfortable silence fell around both of you as you sat there on the hood, enjoying the brisk air around you. You were admiring the stars in the clear night sky when Dean suddenly broke the silence. “You did good today, Y/N.” You snorted loudly. “Yeah, right. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you saving me from him.” You said quietly and kicked your eyes down to the ground. “Damn it, woman, take the compliment. You know that I don't usually give them lightly. You did good. You're a good hunter.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Really? So that's why you've been a jackass to me for the past years?”

“No. Not because of that.” You raised your eyebrow in confusion.

“It's because..well.. you're…you.” He suddenly seemed nervous. “Dean, you're not making much sense.”

He took a deep breath and held it for a moment before continuing. “You're you, Y/N, amazing and beautiful in your most natural way. I’ve thought all these years that if I was just an asshole to you, it would be easier for you to push me away and for me to not think about you all the time. But I was wrong. It is not easy for me to get you from my mind.” You turned away your gaze from him, to hide one tear that freely ran down your cheek. You had no idea. You had no idea that your feelings for him were reciprocated. All this time you've been thinking that he really sees you just as a hunter, not even as a woman.

“Dean, I-” He cut in before you could finish the sentence. “Yeah, I know. You don't feel the same and don't know what to say. You don't have to say anything. Honestly. I get it. I know that I'm not the easiest to be around, not to speak of being someone you'd ever fall for.” He sighed and got back into the Impala. “Dean, wait!” You hurried after him, climbing into his lap as soon as you got into the car.

“Stop it!” You panted, slightly out of breath. You turned his chin up, face towards you and looked him straight into his eyes, that were glimmering even in the darkness. “You can't just say all those things and then run away from me without letting me answer, because..” you got lost in his eyes and the warm breaths leaving from his slightly parted lips started to intoxicate you with the way they were flowing over your skin. You knew that no words could really give away the feelings you had for him, so you gathered the courage and just kissed him hard.

At first you felt like Dean didn't know how to react to your kiss, but as soon as you started to nibble on his lip, asking permission to enter his mouth, he deepened the kiss and his fingers slipped under your dress, with blunt nails digging into your hips he pulled you closer. You chuckled against his lips, feeling his erection through his pants again. “Really? You're hard again?” He bit your lip teasingly. “Mm, not again sweetheart, since we were in the closet actually. Haven't really gotten time to do anything about it.” You shimmied backwards on his lap, leaning against the dashboard. You knew you were both waiting to release some of your past sexual frustration, but you were pretty sure neither of you had protection. “I'm not on the pill, do you have a condom on you?”

“Ah, fuck. No, I don't.” Dean sighed defeatedly, running a hand over his face. You leaned back in to kiss him.

“Well, no worries, we can still have some fun, you know?” Your hand started to work on his belt buckle, to free his dick from the restraining boxers. You took his hand into yours and spat into his palm before guiding it down to his cock and slowly started to move it up and down. “I want you to jerk off.” His laughter rang through the car. “And what are you going to do?”

Without another word you moved back on his lap, leaving as much as free space between you as you could. You lifted both of your legs on the seat on either side of him, opening yourself completely to him, revealing your drenched lace underwear.

Your dress was moved up enough so it was just resting around your waist, thanks to the long slit it had. With a devilish smile, you hooked your fingers into your underwear and started to pull them away.

Due to the position you sat in, when they reached your knees, they were pretty much into Dean's face and you were not expecting what he did next. Dean lifted your left leg from his right and slightly bit down on your inner thigh, making you yelp, before pulling your underwear off with his teeth. “Ugh, fuck…you're delicious.” He muttered quietly, your panties still in his mouth. He pulled them out of his mouth and threw on the seat next to you. “Can't wait to eat you out. Can I please?” He looked at you with bright green puppy dog eyes. “Not now.” You whispered and slowly slid your fingers between your glistening folds, teasing Dean.

“Well, I'm going to play with myself. I hope you're not just going to watch?” You cocked an eyebrow at him and pushed one finger into your dripping pussy, making Dean groan at the sight of you. He began to slowly stroke his cock, catching a bead of precum with his thumb and spread it along his shaft, with deep sighs leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you're so beautiful. Big. Thick.” You moaned yearningly, wishing he'd be inside you right now instead of your fingers. The sight of him slowly massaging his dick, head resting on the seat, sighing and groaning softly, made you even more aroused, and you knew you wouldn't last very long.

“Did I really turn you on before we left for the gala?” you whispered, breathing slowly getting heavier from the pleasure slowly building deep in your core. “Yeah..you really did.” He offered a half-smile, as his eyes fell down between your legs, where you had your middle and ring fingers sunk as deep as possible into your pussy, while your other hand rubbed your clit. “What were you thinking of when you were masturbating then?” You had your eyes closed and you imagined him in his room, jerking off earlier in the evening.

“Look at me, Y/N, then I'll tell you.” He said quietly and you immediately locked your eyes with him, still fucking yourself with your fingers. “I was imagining having you in there with me. Feeling your beautiful lips around my cock, sucking hard, almost choking on it, or having you spread out on my bed, screwing all the hate you have against me out of you.. making you cum on my cock..” You ran your thumb again over his lips. “Oh, Dean, I don't hate you..never have..never will, but if hate-sex is what turns you on, I can always pretend.”

“Please..I need to taste you more, Y/N, so bad..” he begged and you pulled out your fingers, clenching around nothing when Dean lifted your hand to his mouth, closed his eyes, and began sucking hard on them. With one hand still rubbing himself, the other one found his way to your pussy, not letting you be empty for long, his long fingers filled you perfectly. That angle was so much better for him to finger you while you went back to rubbing your clit. You clenched around him hard, moaning and whimpering when his moves sped up, hitting the sweet spot deep inside you. “Oh, fuck, Dean, I'm-!” He was still sucking onto your fingers, and you had to brace yourself on the roof of the car with your other hand, when an intense orgasm overpowered all your senses. You had forgotten what words were and only whimpers were leaving your mouth when he continued fingerfucking you through your climax. You had now completely ruined his pants with your juices, but he clearly didn't mind, as he watched you coming off your high while he started to jerk himself off. “You're so fucking beautiful right now.” You were squirming in his lap, as he continued rubbing your clit, all sweaty and breathless from your orgasm. “The view I have right now.. fucking hell, you're..” he gasped and shut his eyes as he finally came hard, cum spurting onto your stomach. “Fuckk..!”He continued to stroke himself until he was all out. Both of you were out of breath, when you leaned into him to close the gap between you.

Your kisses now were much sweeter, slower. “I ruined your dress, babe.” He whispered. You smiled against his lips. “I ruined your pants, so I guess we're even.” Your fingers ran through his hair, gently scratching his scalp, making him moan softly. “Thank God you always make us pack up some extra clothes for the hunts. Wouldn't want to explain this to Sammy.”

You reluctantly pulled away from his arms and sat next to him, both of you still half-naked and not bothering to cover yourselves. “I think he'll be happy for us. Or at least that much, that he doesn't have to be afraid that we'll jump each other's throats.” For some time, you sat there in silence, still not able to think clearly. Even after that intense orgasm that you had, there was still desire burning inside you for his cock. “Dean…” you started, slowly moving your hand up his thigh again. “What if we make a little detour before going home?” You looked up at him with big doe eyes. “What do you mean?” He smirked at you. Your smile widened. “What if you fuck me right now like you imagined and afterwards we buy some morning-after pill and hope for the best?” You were clearly blinded by the arousal, but as you learned, so was Dean, when he hungrily pulled you back into his lap.

“Are you really sure about this, Y/N?” He purred against your neck. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Basking in the afterglow, you were both again breathless and speechless. “Oh...uhm..fuck..that was..yeah.” Dean had a hard time finding words to describe what you both just experienced. “Yeah..I know.” You smiled at him, totally satisfied with yourself now and you knew Dean was too.

Taglist: @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @alternativeprincess94 @il0vebeingdelulu

#dean winchester fic #dean x reader smut #dean x reader one shot #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #x reader #x you smut #x you #dean smut #smut #jensen ackles #spn cast

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chvoswxtch · 7 months

Text

texas heat

pairing: dean winchester x disabled!female reader

summary: when the texas heat causes a bad flare up in your body, you lose your temper with dean. but that doesn't stop him from taking care of you.

warnings: swearing, angst, dean being a charming fucker, fluffy ending

word count: 2.9k

a/n: a huge thank you to my darling @mars-rants-a-lot for trusting me with this, and being so informative and helpful to make sure this was as accurate as possible. i hope this brings the comfort you were looking for. this one's for you. 🖤 as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

Being in the car for three hours straight did nothing to help the sour mood that you had woken up in. Despite changing sitting positions several times to the extent your body could handle, you couldn’t seem to get comfortable in the Impala. Not only did your lower back feel incredibly stiff, like a tense rubber band that had been stretched entirely too thin, there was also a sharp pain aching in your knees. Someone might as well have taken a white hot iron to them with a vengeance.

When Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a motel, you didn’t wait for him to assist you in getting out like you normally did. Instead, the second he shifted the gear into park, you pushed open the passenger side door, antagonizing the sting of merciless arthritis even further along the column of your wrist as if you had tossed a lit match into a bone dry field. Putting your cane down firmly on the concrete, you attempted to use it along with the door handle as leverage to push yourself upwards. The Texas heat was even more unforgiving as it seared your skin without a layer of glass protecting it, and you could already feel sweat beading along your hair, like some kind of saltwater crown.

While you were struggling and sweltering, Dean had quickly jogged around to your side, pushing the door open further and ducking down to be eye level with you.

“Whoa, easy there sweetheart. Lemme help ya.”

He wore that dazzling toothy grin that you adored so much, and his subtle charming dimples that settled above the edges of his lips were on full display. Dean was already reaching out to place his hand on your waist to help you get out of the car, just like he had done a thousand times before. But between the blazing heat and the searing pain spreading throughout your body like catastrophic wildfire, you didn’t find it nearly as endearing as you normally did.

It snapped the final paperthin straw of patience that you had.

Shoving his hand away spitefully with all the force you could muster in your agonizingly sore wrist, you narrowed your eyes into vexed slits and glared up at Dean.

“Jesus Christ, Dean. I’m disabled, not helpless. Can you just back off?”

The bright smile on Dean’s lips fell harder than an angel from grace, and clouds of shock and perplexity suddenly cast over his handsome features. It was as if his crisp green eyes had turned sour with dejection when your acidic words reached his heart, leaving searing scars in their angry path. Dean Winchester, who had spent his entire life hunting monsters and demons and every kind of evil imaginable, was completely frozen on the spot. You had never lashed out at him before, and he couldn’t produce a single clue in his brain to figure out what he had done wrong to upset you.

Getting out of the Impala on your own was harder than competing in an Olympic sport you hadn’t trained for, and it only depleted your energy even further. The ground seemed to be wobbling under your feet the way a bridge in a fun house would, and you abruptly began to rue your decision to stand up so quickly after sitting in a car for three hours. The wind was knocked out of your lungs by your own impatience, and the weight of your frustration settled on your chest brick by brick with every step you attempted to take. The unforgiving stiffness in your wrist made it extremely difficult to grasp the handle of your cane. Medusa might as well have turned your hand to stone with the way you couldn’t move your fingers under the handle of the cane, or grasp it at all.

Every little thing only fueled your resentment towards your own body, and it made you want to scream. Not even three minutes of trying to walk towards the motel room on your own, and your heart was palpitating furiously beneath your rib cage while you floundered with panic trying to breathe. The sun’s rays nearly blinded you, forcing you to tilt your head down, afflicting you with a sense of vertigo that had everything around you spinning faster than a rogue carousel. A dull headache began to throb at the base of your skull, rising louder in volume the more the extreme heat depleted your body of hydration, rendering it a barren desert. The sweat streaming down your skin was almost molten, and it caused your clothes to stick uncomfortably to your body like a foreign second skin.

Dean’s name was caught in the back of your throat, but your mouth was so dry, and your tongue felt like it had shriveled three sizes, that you couldn’t get it out. The sound of your cane clamoring against the concrete barely registered in your ears, and for a moment, your vision went completely black. But as you felt yourself free falling into some kind of abyss, a pair of strong arms caught you.

Floating in and out of consciousness, the comforting pressure and warmth surrounding you made you feel like you were wrapped in your favorite anxiety blanket. But then you smelt the familiar cologne of gunpowder, whiskey, and mint. You knew exactly who that scent belonged to. You would recognize the melody of Dean’s steady heartbeat anywhere. It had lulled you to sleep on several occasions. An arctic blast suddenly nipped at your heated cheeks, and it caused you to sigh in content feeling the way it lowered your body’s internal temperature.

The moment you felt the pressure and warmth becoming faint, your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at Dean in pure panic. He took in the alarm written clearly on your features, and reached out to gently take your hand as he bent down slightly to adjust the pillows behind your head.

“I’m just gonna go get your bag, alright? Be right back.”

The soothing timbre of his unspoken promise soothed your anxiety slightly, and Dean’s protective gaze remained on you while he rounded the motel bed and headed for the door. He liked to keep an extra bag for you in the Impala just in case you were ever running low on anything. You had once made the joke that he could do a pop up weapons depot and a hospital right out of his trunk.

In record timing, Dean was crossing the threshold of the motel room and was over to you in less than four strides. Sometimes you forgot just how fast he was. Those adorable bowlegs could really move. There was a look of pure concentration embedded on his sharp features while he pulled out various items from the bag. His petal pink lips were pursed slightly in a faint pout, chestnut brows were drawn together, and the crystal green of his eyes had darkened considerably in a way you’d only seen when he and Sam were getting ready for a hunt.

“Dean-”

“Don’t talk. You need water.”

The faint croaking of your dehydrated vocal chords barely registered any volume in the quiet hotel room. Meanwhile Dean’s gruff command seemed to echo off the tacky red and orange art deco wallpaper that was peeling at the crown molding and baseboards. You watched him remorsefully as he mixed a strawberry electrolyte packet with a bottle of water and shook it mercilessly. He always remembered to get your favorite flavor.

Dean twisted the cap off the water bottle and set it on the night stand for a moment. Snaking his arm behind your back, he carefully sat you up gingerly, positioning the pillows behind your back and neck to allow you to sit up comfortably. After placing a heating pad against your lower back, he delicately lowered your back against the pillows and grasped two pain reliever pills between his thumb and index finger and held them in front of your mouth.

“Here, take these.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t argue with me when I can see how much pain you’re in. Take ‘em.”

You knew better than to argue with him when he had his mind set on something. Parting your lips just enough for him to drop the pills into your mouth, you gazed up at him softly as he brought the bottle of water to your lips and gently slipped his left hand into your hair to cradle the back of your head.

“Drink the whole thing. Take your time.”

The juxtaposition of Dean being so firm yet so gentle with you at the same time always amazed you. It was rare you ever saw him treat anyone else like that, and it made you think he reserved it just for you. Your heart wanted to believe it was because he cared about you, really cared, and that he wanted to spark that fuse of friendship to explode into something colorful and more like you did. But your brain dismissed that it was simply because you were disabled and that you were vital to him and Sam as their person behind the scenes.

After finishing the entire water, Dean set the empty bottle down on the nightstand and turned the heating pad on medium heat. The bloom of warmth slowly started to ease the ache in your lower back, and you were suddenly aware of the pain in your jaw from clenching it so hard during your grueling POTS flare up. Dean swiftly but tenderly removed the braces from your wrists and knees to allow your body to sink into relaxation. He carefully removed your shoes and slipped tall compression socks on your feet before unfolding your weighted anxiety blanket and placing it over you delicately and tucking you in.

The air was still thick and tense with your treacherous treatment of him earlier, and the guilt pooling in your stomach nearly made you nauseous. He didn’t deserve that. He was just trying to help you. He was always trying to help.

“Dean, I'm sorry.”

Dean’s entire body language changed as soon as he heard the tears in your voice. His broad shoulders visibly relaxed beneath his forest green flannel, and his hardened features morphed into a soft look of empathy. His eyes were back to their normal shade of enchanting green, and they were shining with understanding and compassion. Letting out a deep exhale through his nose, Dean took a seat on the bed next to you and hunched over slightly, resting his elbows on his denim covered thighs.

“You got nothin’ to be sorry for.”

“I was mean-”

“You weren’t mean. You’re havin’ a bad day, and you’re struggling, and I didn’t catch it. I’m the one that should be sorry.”

Leave it to Dean Winchester to try and shoulder the blame for something that was nowhere near his fault. Emerald guilt was already forming around the outer rim of his irises, and even though there was still a lingering flame nipping at the nerves in your wrist, you stiffly reached out for one of his hands. As soon as Dean caught your fingers in his peripheral, he instinctively enveloped your hand delicately in his larger one. His hands were always so warm, and even though they were a bit rough with scars and callouses from a lifetime of trying to be the best soldier, to you they felt soothing and were a sense of tangible comfort.

“Listen to me. What happens to my body is not your fault. It’s out of your control just as much as it’s out of mine.”

“We were on the road for three hours straight. I shoulda stopped, given you breaks from sittin’ so long. I shoulda made sure there was enough refrigerant in the tank. The A/C wasn’t hardly blastin’ a damn thing. I shoulda just left you at the motel in Arkansas-”

“You said you didn’t want to leave me alone because Sam-”

“I know, and I didn’t. But better you bein’ in a nice cool motel than fuckin’ Texas. The heat here’s too much for you, sweetheart. I shoulda known how it was gonna hit you. I shoulda made sure you were drinkin’ your electrolytes the whole ride-”

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze to halt his self-condemnation, he finally met your gaze. A tender smile graced your lips as you shakily lifted your hand up to place on the side of his cheek, enjoying the slight tickle of his coarse scruff against your palm. He instantly leaned into your touch, and his body deflated slightly in content at the contact. You brushed your thumb along his sharp cheekbone to the best of your ability and let out a gentle sigh, shaking your head slightly as you gazed at him in adoration.

“You take on too much, D. The weight of the world isn’t yours to carry.”

“I’m not worried about the world. I’m worried about you.”

The firmness in his deep voice and the intensity of his gaze nearly knocked the wind out of you all over again. You weren’t used to him being so serious unless it was regarding a case or something with Sam.

“I’m alright-”

“You blacked out.”

“And you caught me and took care of me, like you always do.”

You were too exhausted to argue with over the over six feet of pure stubbornness sitting in front of you. The electrolytes were steadily getting rid of your cotton mouth and foreboding sense of dehydration, and the heating pad felt marvelous against your agitated lower back. The motel bed surprisingly did not feel like it was made of cardboard, and the pillows Dean had placed around you almost felt cloudlike. As you closed your heavy eyelids and let out a deep exhale, you could still feel Dean’s intense gaze on you, and an idea to melt the icy tension suddenly popped into your head.

“You know D, there is actually…one thing that I think would really help me right now.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your grin, hearing Dean shuffle closer on the bed. Even though your eyes were closed, you knew exactly what look of concern and curiosity was plastered on his features.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

Peeking one of your eyes open, you stared up at him with faux innocence.

“Well…I mean…I don’t want you to go out of your way, you do have a case to work-”

Dean shook his head firmly and gestured with his chin down in your direction.

“Tell me whatcha need.”

Letting out an overly dramatic sigh, you brought your hand up to place the back of it against your forehead, like a damsel in distress in an old Hollywood movie, as your lips pursed into a distressed pout.

“Salted Caramel ice cream.”

Dean’s expression of concern quickly vanished into a deadpan look that let you know he was absolutely and completely done with you, and it made you burst into stomach cramping laughter. Dean tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling in exasperation, as if he was silently asking God why me.

“And I thought Sammy was dramatic.”

When he swiftly stood up from the bed, you attempted to hide your grin while staring up at him in faux annoyance.

“Hey, you have to be nice to people that are disabled.”

Dean arched one of his chestnut brows as he turned his head to stare over at you in a playful look of defiance.

“Not if they’re a brat.”

When he opened the door to the hotel, you couldn’t help but giggle at the look on his face.

“Oh! You know what would also really help? Frescas con crema. But make sure it’s-”

“Strawberry. I know. Drink your damn salt water. And do not put on Criminal Minds.”

“Why not?”

“Because I know how you sweat when that one guy with the dorky haircut and permanent frown shows up.”

“You mean Hotch?”

Dean pursed his full lips in slight annoyance seeing the grin on your face and the slight purr to your voice when you said his name. Tilting your head to the side slightly, the mischievous grin stretched further over your lips.

“You know Dean, you have that exact same ‘dorky’ haircut.”

Dean let out a dry scoff and crossed his arms across his chest, face twisted up in absolute rejection.

“No I don’t. Mine is way better than his.”

“You’re kinda frowny sometimes too. And you do have an FBI badge.”

Dean’s expression melted slightly into a look of recognition, like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. Before you could tease him anymore about it, he grabbed the remote and placed it on the tv stand across the room, pointing an accusatory finger in your direction.

“No TV, take a nap.”

“But Dean!”

“Nap, young lady!”

As Dean shut the door behind him and you watched him through the window stalk over to the Impala pouting like a child, you couldn’t help but laugh. Once the roar of the engine faded down the street, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and smirked to yourself as you opened an app to pick up on the last episode of Criminal Minds you had left off on.

“Sorry, D. You’re not coming between me and Hotch.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x disabled!female reader #dean winchester x disabled!fem reader #dean winchester x disabled!f reader #dean winchester fic #supernatural #supernatural fic

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deanwritings · 10 months

Text

Flour, Flour Everywhere

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Fluff.

Prompt: “…” “i can explain” “what did you do to my kitchen?”

Summary: Dean comes home to a very messy kitchen.

Word Count: 934

Gif:

A/N: Look at me writing fluff. Just a cute little piece based on a prompt I saw

Shit. This was not as easy as you thought it would be.

You run the back of your forearm across your brow, wiping away the beads of sweat that had started to form.

This looked so much easier in the Youtube video playing on your phone.

It had come across your screen last night when you couldn’t sleep and were in the bowels of the internet trying to find something that would help you relax enough to finally pass out.

But as “Apple Pie ASMR” played, not only was it deliciously relaxing, but it looked pretty easy. Which sparked the idea – why not bake a pie?

You tried your hand at baking over the years, never venturing outside of cookies, but you found baking relaxing, and figured there was a certain green-eyed hunter who would be very appreciative to have a freshly baked pie.

So when Dean headed out for a supply run this morning, you popped into the kitchen and got to work.

And boy, was it work.

You had pulled out almost every pot, pan, and appliance as you worked to mix and form the crust and render the apples. It sounded so simple, but Jesus Christ you had been at this almost an hour now and you still haven’t even gotten the crust dough in the oven yet.

But you take a deep breath and dive back into it, putting all of your strength into the counter as you use the roller you found stashed in the far back of a cabinet as you attempt, again, to even out the dough beneath you, and you groan as it continues to stick to your rolling pin.

More flour. Was what every website said if your dough was sticking, but every time you added more flour, it would just harden again, and you basically had to start over.

But you were in too deep, and you weren’t the type of person to give up when it got tough.

When the going got tough, the tough were going to make this god damn pie.

Dean wanderers down the hallway, grocery bags hanging from his fingertips as he takes heavy steps towards the kitchen. It was nice getting out of the bunker but sometimes it really sucked how long it took just to get some simple items since the bunker was so far out from town.

As he takes his next step, he hears a grumbled “for fuck’s sake,” the voice clearly belonging to you.

He picks up the pace, not worried, but curiosity carrying him the rest of the way to the kitchen as he approaches the entry, his steps faltering as he nearly loses his grip on the bags in his hands.

When he left about two hours ago, it was a sparkling clean kitchen. Exactly how he liked it, especially since he was really the only one who cooked among the three of them.

But now. Now it was a disaster.

The counters, usually clean and free of clutter, were covered in what had to be every piece of cookware in the kitchen. In between the limited space of bowls and pans was flour, butter, Dean had no idea what else but holy shit was it a mess.

You’re bent over a counter, your back to Dean, not having noticed his presence.

“What the hell did you do to my kitchen?” Dean roars as he finally steps into the catastrophe that is his kitchen. Yes, his kitchen. He spends the most time out of anyone in there, and prided himself on keeping it sparkling.

You jump up at his voice and spin around, flour flying around you.

He drops his bags on the table, being that there is no room anywhere else, keeping his hard gaze on you as he stalks closer.

“I can explain,” you hold up your hands as he stops in front of you.

He raises his eyebrows and nods, silently letting you know to continue.

Instead of answering, you spin around, and Dean frowns, but without any time to linger on his confusion, he takes a quick step back as you quickly twirl back, this time, with something in your hands.

Dean looks down in disbelief.

“Is that…” He points at it, his anger falling away.

You fold your lips and nod.

“Homemade apple pie.” You lift it up as a peace offering. “Fresh out of the oven.” You finish with a smirk.

Dean runs his tongue over his teeth, nodding as he decides if he’s going to accept your bribe.

“Fine,” he concedes, taking the tin from your hands. You reach behind you and return with a fork, with Dean grabs with an “ah.”

Dean hurries over to the table, pushing aside the grocery bags as he takes a seat, carefully placing the pie in front of him with the utmost care.

He gives his hands a rub, taking in the golden lattices and glistening apples laying underneath, his mouth watering at the sight.

He picks up the fork and digs in, steam billowing as he lifts the fork to his mouth, not waiting for it to cool before it shoves it in.

He takes a bite, the apples not mushing beneath his teeth, and an overwhelming taste of salt exploding over his tongue.

“Soooo,” you come around the island and rest against it. “How is it?” You look at him with gleaming eyes.

“Great, sweetheart,” he mumbles over uncooked apples, taking a hard swallow.

“Does this mean I’m forgiven?” You plead.

Dean just raises his eyebrows with a tight smile and shoots you a thumbs up.

Forever Tags

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @deansgoddess @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly

#dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #dean reader insert #dean imagine #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester imagine #SPN #spn fic #spn fanfic #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #Supernatural fanfic #supernatural fic #reader insert #spn x reader

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spnbrainrotawoooga · 4 months

Text

no cause when I started this show and found out about Wincest, I was like that’s kind of weird but whatever. And I figured it was the inevitable outcome for a fandom when you have two hot costars and minimal side characters for them to form meaningful connections with. I just figured it was created out of fandom necessity to ship something.

Then like the show slaps you with stuff like sex and violence. Sam comparing himself and dean to married couples. Dean slapping Sam’s ass and calling him honey. People assume that they are gay couples. And most recently for me because I just watched season 8, Sam relating to Amelia with how she feels about Don. And how the whole Dean and Don situation is pretty much identical and their names are even almost the same. And then season 8 ends with them making vows in a church together.

and I was just left there like 😐. because this is just stuff that happens in canon. You don’t even have to read it as Wincest.

so it took 8 seasons of denial for me. Going from “wait why”. To “oh these brothers are sort of obsessed with each other”. To “Jesus Christ he sold his soul for him”. To “it’s canon that they are at the very least emotionally incestuous with each other.” To “fuck they got married and I’m a Wincestie”.

#wincest #samdean

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greater-than-the-sword · 7 months

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As Reformation Day Approaches...

Many will wish to talk about Martin Luther. Which makes sense because he famously nailed the 95 theses to the church door at Wittenburg on October 31st.

But what better time to commemorate all of the OTHER important figures and reformers of the Protestant reformation? Of whom there were many.

Wikipedia lists 284 people burned in England under Queen Mary I, as she attempted to consolidate her power. Her new laws declared anyone teaching against Catholic doctrines to be guilty of heresy and subject to the death penalty. The Catholic church has never denounced these murders committed by its members on its behalf.

These laws affected famous and regular people alike. Over time I may make a series of posts with more detail about some of these persons.

Incomplete list of the protestant martyrs in England under the cut. Courtesy of Wikipedia.

Protestants executed under Mary I

1. John Rogers City of London clergyman – preacher, biblical translator, lecturer at St. Paul's Cathedral burnt 4 February 1555 Smithfield, London

2. Lawrence Saunders City of London clergyman – preacher, Rector of All Hallows Bread Street, London burnt 8 February 1555 Coventry, Warwickshire

3. John Hooper Gloucester and Worcester clergyman – Bishop of Gloucester and Worcester under Edward VI burnt 9 February 1555 Gloucester, Gloucestershire

4. Rowland Taylor Hadleigh, Suffolk clergyman – Rector of Hadleigh, Suffolk burnt 9 February 1555 Aldham Common, Nr Hadleigh, Suffolk[5]: p.98 [59]

5. Rawlins White Cardiff, Glamorgan fisherman burnt March 1555 Cardiff, Glamorgan[60]

6. Thomas Tomkins Shoreditch, London weaver burnt 16 March 1555 Smithfield, London[61]

7. Thomas Causton Horndon on the Hill or Thundersby, Essex gentleman burnt 26 March 1555 Rayleigh, Essex[62]

8. Thomas Higbed Horndon on the Hill or Thundersby, Essex gentleman burnt 26 March 1555 Horndon-on-the-Hill, Essex[62]

9. William Hunter Coleman Street Parish, London apprentice burnt 27 March 1555 (or 26 according to Foxe) Brentwood, Essex

10. Stephen Knight barber burnt 28 March 1555 Maldon, Essex[64]

11. William Pygot (or Pigot) butcher burnt 28 March 1555 Braintree, Essex[64]

12. [n 6] William Dighel burnt 28 March 1555 Banbury, Oxfordshire [65][66]

13. John Lawrence (or Laurence) clergyman – priest and former Blackfriar at Sudbury, Suffolk[50] burnt 29 March 1555 Colchester, Essex[64]

14. Robert Ferrar St David's, Pembrokeshire clergyman – Bishop of St David's under Edward VI burnt 30 March 1555 Carmarthen, Carmarthenshire[67]

15. George Marsh Dean, Lancashire clergyman – curate to Laurence Saunders and minister at Dean, Lancashire burnt 24 April 1555 Boughton, Cheshire[68]

16. William Flower Lambeth, London surgeon and teacher burnt 24 April 1555 Westminster[69]

17. John Cardmaker Wells, Somerset clergyman – prebendary of Wells Cathedral burnt 30 May 1555 Smithfield, London[70]

18. John Warne Walbrook, London upholsterer burnt 30 May 1555 Smithfield, London[70]

19. Thomas Hawkes (or Haukes) Essex gentleman burnt 10 June 1555 Coggeshall, Essex

20. Thomas Watts (or Wattes) Billericay, Essex linen draper burnt 10 June 1555 Chelmsford, Essex[7][72]

21. John Ardeley (or Ardite) Wigborough, Essex husbandman burnt 30 May 1555 (or 'about 10 June', according to Foxe) Rayleigh, Essex[7][73]

22. John Simson Wigborough, Essex husbandman burnt 30 May 1555 (or 'about 10 June', according to Foxe) Rochford, Essex[7][73]

23. Nicholas Chamberlain (or Chamberlaine) Coggeshall, Essex weaver burnt 14 June 1555 Colchester, Essex[7][74]

24. William Bamford (or Butler)[n 8]Coggeshall, Essex weaver burnt 15 June 1555 Harwich, Essex[7][74]

25. Thomas Ormond (or Osmande)[n 9]Coggeshall, Essex fuller burnt 15 June 1555 Manningtree, Essex[7][74]

26. John Bradford City of London clergyman – prebendary of St Paul's Cathedral burnt 1 July 1555 Smithfield, London[7][75][76]

27. John Leaf (or Jhon Least) Christ Church Greyfriars, London (born in Kirkby Moorside, Yorkshire) apprentice tallow chandler burnt 1 July 1555 Smithfield, London

Canterbury Martyrs of July 1555

28. John Bland (or Blande) Rolvenden, Kent clergyman – vicar of Rolvenden, Kent burnt 12 July 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][78]

29. Nicholas Shetterden (or Shitterdun) burnt 12 July 1555 Canterbury, Kent

30. John Frankesh Adisham, Kent clergyman – parson of Adisham, Kent burnt 12 July 1555 Canterbury, Kent

31. Humphrey Middleton Ashford, Kent burnt 12 July 1555 Canterbury, Kent

32. Nicholas Hall Dartford, Kent bricklayer burnt 19 July 1555 Rochester, Kent

33. Christopher Wade Dartford, Kent linen-weaver burnt July 1555 Dartford, Kent

34. Margaret (or Margery) Polley Pepeling, Calais widow burnt 17 July 1555 Royal Tunbridge Wells, Kent[80]

35. Dirick Carver (also spelt Deryk; also known as Dirick Harman) Brighthelmstone (now Brighton), Sussex beer-brewer burnt 22 July 1555, Lewes, East Sussex

36. John Launder Godstone, Surrey husbandman burnt 23 July 1555 Steyning, West Sussex

37. Thomas Euerson (or Iueson, Iverson or Iveson) Godstone, Surrey carpenter burnt (day unknown) July 1555 Chichester, West Sussex

38. Richard Hook (or Hooke) lame man [66] burnt unknown date in July 1555 Chichester, West Sussex

39. James Abbess Stoke-by-Nayland, Suffolk shoemaker burnt 2 August 1555 Thetford, Norfolk (or Bury, according to Foxe)

40. John Denley Maidstone, Kent gentleman burnt 8 August 1555 Uxbridge, Middlesex

41. Robert Smith Windsor, Berkshire clerk at the college in Windsor, Berkshire and painter burnt 8 August 1555 Uxbridge, Middlesex

Canterbury Martyrs of August 1555

42. William Coker burnt 23 August 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][89]

43. William Hopper Cranbrook, Kent[79] burnt 23 August 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][89]

44. Henry Laurence burnt 23 August 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][89]

45. Richard Collier (or Colliar) burnt 23 August 1555 Canterbury, Kent

46. Richard Wright Ashford, Kent[79] burnt 23 August 1555 Canterbury, Kent

47. William StereAshford, Kent[79] burnt 23 August 1555 Canterbury, Kent

48. Elizabeth Warne (or Warren)[n 13]Walbrook, London widow of John Warne, upholsterer burnt 23 August 1555 Stratford-atte-Bow, London

49. Roger Hues (aliases: Curryer, Corier) St Mary's, Taunton, Somerset burnt 24 August 1555 Taunton, Somerset [66][7][91]

50. George Tankerfield London (born in York) cook burnt 26 August 1555 St Albans

51. Patrick Pakingham (aliases: Packingham, Pachingham, Patchingham or Pattenham) burnt 28 August 1555 Uxbridge, Middlesex [7][87]

52. John Newman Maidstone, Kent pewterer burnt 31 August 1555 Saffron Walden, Essex [7][87]

53. Robert Samuel (or Samuell) Barfold, Suffolk clergyman – minister at Barfold, Suffolk burnt 31 August 1555 Thetford, Norfolk[7][93]

54. Stephen HarwoodWare, Hertfordshire brewer burnt 30 August 1555 Stratford in Essex[7][94]

55. Thomas Fust (or Fusse) hosier, August 1555 In the environs of London or Ware

56. William Hale (or Hailes)Thorpe, Essex, late August 1555 In the environs of Barnet, London

57. William Allen Somerton, Norfolk labourer burnt early September 1555 Walsingham, Norfolk

58. Roger Coe (or Coo or Cooe) Melford, Suffolk shearman burnt date unknown September 1555 Yoxford, Suffolk

59. Thomas CobHaverhill, Suffolk butcher burnt date unknown September 1555 Thetford, Norfolk

Canterbury Martyrs of September 1555

60. George Catmer (or Painter) Hythe, Kent burnt about 6 September 1555, according to Foxe (or 12 July 1555) Canterbury, Kent

61. Robert Streater (or Streter) Hythe, Kent burnt about 6 September 1555, according to Foxe (or 12 July 1555) Canterbury, Kent

62. Anthony Burward Calete (possibly Calais) [98] burnt about 6 September 1555, according to Foxe (or 12 July 1555) Canterbury, Kent

63. George Brodbridge (or Bradbridge) Bromfield, Kent burnt about 6 September 1555, according to Foxe (or 12 July 1555) Canterbury, Kent

64. James Tutty (or Tuttey)Brenchley, Kent burnt about 6 September 1555, according to Foxe (or 12 July 1555) Canterbury, Kent

65. Robert Glover (or Glouer)Mancetter, Warwickshire gentleman burnt 14 September 1555 Coventry, Warwickshire

66. Cornelius Bongey (or Bungey) capper burnt 20 September 1555 Coventry, Warwickshire

67. Thomas Hayward (or Heywarde) burnt mid September 1555 Lichfield, Staffordshire

68. John Goreway Holy Trinity Parish, Coventry, Warwickshire [50] burnt mid-September 1555 Lichfield, Staffordshire Ely Martyrs

69. William WolseyUpwell, Norfolk constable, one of the Ely Martyrs burnt 16 October 1555 Cathedral Green, Ely, Cambridgeshire

70. Robert Pygot (or Pigot) Wisbech, Isle of Ely, Cambridgeshire painter, also an Ely Martyr burnt 16 October 1555 Cathedral Green, Ely, Cambridgeshire

Oxford Martyrs

71. Hugh Latimer (or Latymer) Baxterley, Warwickshire [103] clergyman – chaplain to King Edward VI burnt 16 October 1555 outside Balliol College, Oxford

72. Nicholas RidleyFulham Palace clergyman – Bishop of London under Edward VI burnt 16 October 1555 outside Balliol College, Oxford

Canterbury Martyrs of November 1555

73. John Webbe (or Web) gentleman burnt 30 November 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][105]

74. George Roper burnt 30 November 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][105]

75. Gregory Parke (or Paynter)[citation needed] burnt 30 November 1555 Canterbury, Kent [7][105]

76. John PhilpotWinchester, Hampshire clergyman – Archdeacon of Winchester burnt 18 December 1555 Smithfield, London[7][106]

77. Thomas Whittle (or Whitwell)Essex clergyman – priest or minister burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London[7][107]

78. Bartlett (or Bartholomew) GreenTemple, London – born in Basinghall, London gentleman and lawyer burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London[7][107]

79. Thomas BrownSt Bride's parish, Fleet Street, London – born in Histon, Cambridgeshire burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London[7][107]

80. John TudsonSt Mary Botolph parish, London – born in Ipswich, Suffolk artificer burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London[7][107]

81. John Went (or Winter or Hunt) Langham, Essex artificer burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London[7][107]

82. Isobella Forster (or Annis Foster) St Bride's parish, Fleet Street, London – Born in Greystoke, Cumberland wife of John Foster, cutler burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London[7][107]

83. Joan Lushford (or Jone Lashforde, or Warne) Little Allhallows parish, Thames Street, London maid burnt 27 January 1556 Smithfield, London

Canterbury Martyrs of 1556

84. John Lomas (or Jhon Lowmas) Tenterden, Kent burnt 31 January 1556 Wincheap, Canterbury [7][108]

85. Annes Snoth (or Annis Snod) Smarden, Kent widow burnt 31 January 1556 Wincheap, Canterbury [7][108]

86. Anne Wright (or Albright); alias Champnes burnt 31 January 1556 Wincheap,Canterbury [7][108]

87. Joan (or Jone) SoaleHorton, Kent wife burnt 31 January 1556 Wincheap, Canterbury [7][108]

88. Joan Catmer Hythe, Kent 'wife (as it should seem) of George Catmer', burnt in 1555 burnt 31 January 1556 Wincheap, Canterbury [108][n 15][7]Ipswich Martyrs of 1556

89. Agnes Potten Ipswich, Suffolk wife of Robert Potten burnt 19 February 1556 Ipswich, Cornhill [7][n 16][109]

90. Joan Trunchfield Ipswich, Suffolk wife of Michael Trunchfield, a shoemaker burnt 19 February 1556 Ipswich, Cornhill

91. Thomas Cranmer Lambeth Palace clergyman – Archbishop of Canterbury (former) burnt 21 March 1556 outside Balliol College, Oxford[7][110]

92. John Maundrel Beckhampton, Wiltshire – brought up in Rowde, Wiltshire husbandman burnt 24 March 1556 outside Salisbury, Wiltshire

93. William Coberly Wiltshire tailor burnt 24 March 1556 outside Salisbury, Wiltshire

94. John Spicer (or Spencer) Winston, Suffolk[50] freemason or bricklayer burnt 24 March 1556 outside Salisbury, Wiltshire

95. John Harpole (or Hartpoole) St Nicholas Parish, Rochester, Kent burnt 1 April 1556 Rochester, Kent[7][112]

96. Joan BeachTunbridge Wells, Kent widow burnt 1 April 1556 Rochester, Kent

97. John Hullier (or Hulliarde) Babraham, Cambridgeshire clergyman – curate of Babraham, Cambridgeshire burnt 16 April 1556 Cambridge, Cambridgeshire

98. William Tyms (or Timmes)Hockley, Essex clergyman – curate of Hockley, Essex burnt 24 April 1556 Smithfield, London

99. Robert DrakeThundersley, Essex clergyman – minister or parson of Thundersley, Essex burnt 24 April 1556 Smithfield, London

100. Richard SpurgeBocking, Essex shearman burnt 24 April 1556 Smithfield, London[7][115]

101. Thomas SpurgeBocking, Essex fuller burnt 24 April 1556 Smithfield, London[7][115]

102. George AmbroseBocking, Essex fuller burnt 24 April 1556 Smithfield, London[7][115] 103. John Cavel (or Cauell)Bocking, Essex weaver burnt 24 April 1556 Smithfield, London[7][115]Colchester martyrs of April 1556

104. Christopher ListerDagenham, Essex husbandman burnt 28 April 1556 Colchester, Essex [7][116]

105. John MaceColchester, Essex apothecary burnt 28 April 1556 Colchester, Essex [7][116]

106. John SpencerColchester, Essex weaver burnt 28 April 1556 Colchester, Essex [7][116]

107. Simon Joyne sawyer burnt 28 April 1556 Colchester, Essex [116]

108. Richard NicolColchester, Essex weaver burnt 28 April 1556 Colchester, Essex

109. John HamondColchester, Essex tanner burnt 28 April 1556 Colchester, Essex [7][116]

110. Hugh Laverock (or Lauarocke) Barking, Essex painter, (a lame man) burnt 15 May 1556 Stratford in Essex

111. John Apprice (or Aprice) blind man burnt 15 May 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow or Stratford in Essex

112. Thomas Drowry blind boy burnt about 15 May 1556 Gloucester, Gloucestershire [7][n 18][118]

113. Thomas Croker bricklayer burnt about 15 May 1556 Gloucester, Gloucestershire [7][n 18][118]

114. Katherine HutBocking, Essex widow burnt 16 May 1556 Smithfield, London[7][117]

115. Elizabeth ThackvelGreat Burstead, Essex maid burnt 16 May 1556 Smithfield, London[7][117]

116. Joan (or Jone) HornsBillericay, Essex maid burnt 16 May 1556 Smithfield, London

117. Thomas Spicer Winston, Suffolk labourer burnt 21 May 1556 Beccles, Suffolk

118. John Deny (or Denny) (possibly a female Joan or Jone) Beccles, Suffolk burnt 21 May 1556 Beccles, Suffolk

119. Edmund PooleBeccles, Suffolk burnt 21 May 1556 Beccles, Suffolk

120. Thomas HarlandWoodmancote, Sussex carpenter burnt 6 June 1556 Lewes, Sussex

121. John Oswald (or Oseward) Woodmancote, Sussex husbandman burnt 6 June 1556 Lewes, Sussex

122. Thomas Reed Ardingly, Sussex burnt about 6 June 1556 Lewes, Sussex

123. Thomas Avington (or Euington) Ardingly, Sussex turner burnt about 6 June 1556 Lewes, Sussex

124. Adam Forster (or Foster) Mendlesham, Suffolk husbandman burnt 17 June 1556 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk [124][125]

125. Robert Lawson Mendlesham, Suffolk linen weaver burnt 17 June 1556 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk [124][125]

126. Thomas Wood clergyman – pastor burnt about 20 June 1556 Lewes, Sussex

127. Thomas Milles Hellingly, Sussex burnt about 20 June 1556 Lewes, Sussex

128. Thomas Moor servant and husbandman burnt 26 June 1556 Leicester, Leicestershire

Stratford Martyrs, 11 men and 2 women.

129. Henry Adlington (or Addlinton) Grinstead, Sussex sawyer burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

130. Lawrence (or Laurence) ParnamHoddesdon, Hertfordshire smith burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

131. Henry WyeStanford-le-Hope, Essex brewer burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

132. William Holywell (or Hallywell)Waltham Holy Cross, Essex, smith. burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow

133. Thomas Bowyer (or Bowier)Great Dunmow, Essex weaver burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow

134. George Searle White Notley, Essex tailor burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow

135. Edmond Hurst St James's Parish, Colchester labourer burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

136. Lion/Lyon Cawch City of London merchant/broker burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

137. Ralph Jackson Chipping Ongar, Essex, serving-man burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

138. John Derifall (or Dorifall) Rettendon, Essex labourer burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow[7][126]

139. John Routh/Roth Wickes, Essex labourer burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow

140. Elizabeth Pepper St James's parish, Colchester wife of Thomas Pepper, weaver burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow

141. Agnes George West Barefold, Essex wife of Richard George, husbandman burnt about 27 June 1556 Stratford-Atte-Bow

142. Roger Bernard Framsden, Suffolk labourer burnt 30 June 1556 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk [124][125]

143. Julins Palmer Reading, Berkshire schoolmaster burnt about 15 July 1556 'The Sand-pits', Nr Newbury, Berkshire

144. John Guin/Jhon Gwin shoemaker [66] burnt about 15 July 1556 'The Sand-pits', Nr Newbury, Berkshire[7][128]

145. Thomas Askin/Askue burnt about 15 July 1556 'The Sand-pits', Nr Newbury, Berkshire

Guernsey Martyrs – (Three women and one unborn male foetus)

146. Catherine Cauchés (sometimes spelt Katherine Cawches) St Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands burnt 18 July 1556 St Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands[129]

147. Perotine Massey (pregnant) St Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands wife of NormanCalvinist minister burnt 18 July 1556 St Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands[129]

148. Guillemine GilbertSt Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands burnt 18 July 1556 St Peter Port, Guernsey, Channel Islands

149. Thomas Dungate (or Dougate) East Grinstead, Sussex burnt 18 July 1556 Grinstead, Sussex

150. John Forman (or Foreman) East Grinstead, Sussex burnt 18 July 1556 Grinstead, Sussex

151. Anne Tree (or Try) West Hoathly, Sussex burnt 18 July 1556 Grinstead, Sussex

152. Joan WasteAll Hallows', Derby, Derbyshire blind woman burnt 1 August 1556 Derby, Derbyshire

153. Edward Sharp glover (possibly)[66] burnt early September 1556 Bristol, Gloucestershire/Somerset

154. Rose Pencell burnt 17 October 1555 Bristol

155. William Shapton weaver burnt 17 October 1555 Bristol[131]

156. John Kurde Syresham, Northamptonshire shoemaker burnt October 1556 or 20 September 1557 Northampton, Northamptonshire

157. John Noyes Laxfield, Suffolk shoemaker burnt 22 September 1556 or 1557 [133]

158. Thomas Ravensdale burnt 24 September 1556 Mayfield, Sussex[85][122]

159. John Hart burnt 24 September 1556 Mayfield, Sussex [85][122]

160. Unknown man shoemaker burnt 24 September 1556 Mayfield, Sussex [85]

161. Unknown man currier burnt 24 September 1556 Mayfield, Sussex [85]

162. Nicholas Holden Withyham, Sussex weaver burnt 24 September 1556 Mayfield, Sussex

163. Unknown man carpenter burnt 25 September 1556 Bristol, Gloucestershire/Somerset

164. John Horn burnt late September 1556 Wotton-under-Edge, Gloucestershire

165. John Phillpott Tenterden, Kent burnt 16 January 1557 Wye, Ashford, Kent

166. Thomas Stephens Biddenden, Kent burnt 16 January 1557 Wye, Ashford, Kent

Canterbury Martyrs of January 1557

167. Stephen KempeNorgate, Kent burnt 15 January 1557 Canterbury, Kent [136]

168. William WatererBiddenden, Kent burnt 15 January 1557 Canterbury, Kent [136]

169. William ProwtingThurnham, Kent burnt 15 January 1557 Canterbury, Kent [136]

170. William LowickCranbrook, Kent burnt 15 January 1557 Canterbury, Kent [136]

171. Thomas HudsonSelling, Kent burnt 15 January 1557 Canterbury, Kent [136]

172. William HayHythe, Kent burnt 15 January 1557 Canterbury, Kent [136]

173. Nicholas Final Tenterden, Kent burnt 16 January 1557 Ashford, Kent

174. Martin Bradbridge Tenterden, Kent burnt 16 January 1557 Ashford, Kent

175. William Carman (or Carmen)[n 28] burnt day and month unknown 1557 [138]

176. Thomas Loseby burnt 12 April 1557 Smithfield, London

177. Henry Ramsey burnt 12 April 1557 Smithfield, London

178. Thomas Thyrtell (or Sturtle) burnt 12 April 1557 Smithfield, London

179. Margaret Hyde burnt 12 April 1557 Smithfield, London

180. Agnes Stanley (or Stanlye) burnt 12 April 1557 Smithfield, London

181. Richard Sharpe weaver burnt 7 May 1557 Cotham, Bristol[141]

182. Thomas Hale shoemaker burnt 7 May 1557 Cotham, Bristol[141]

183. Stephen Gratwick (or Steuen Grathwick) Brighthelmstone (now Brighton), Sussex burnt at end of May 1557 St. George's Fields, Southwark, Surrey

184. William Morant burnt at end of May 1557 St. George's Fields, Southwark, Surrey [7][142]: p. 272 [143]

185. Thomas King[66] burnt at end of May 1557 St. George's Fields, Southwark, Surrey

Maidstone martyrs

186. Joan (or Jone) Bradbridge Staplehurst, Kent Presumably a relative of Widow Bradbridge, burnt 19 June 1557[144] burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]

187. Walter Appleby Maidstone, Kent burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]

188. Petronil Appleby Maidstone, Kent wife of Walter Appleby burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]

189. Edmund Allin (or Allen) Maplehurst Mill, Frittenden, Kent miller burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]

190. Katherine Allin (or Allen) Maplehurst Mill, Frittenden, Kent Wife of Edmund Allin/Allen, miller burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]

191. Joan (or Jone) Manning Maidstone, Kent burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]

192. Elizabeth (surname possibly 'Lewis') blind maid burnt 18 June 1557 Maidstone, Kent [7][145]Canterbury martyrs of June 1557

193. John Fishcock/Jhon Fiscoke burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent [7][145]

194. Nicholas White burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent [7][145] 195. Nicholas Pardue/Perdue burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent [7][145]

196. Barbara Final burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent [7][145]

197. Bradbridge's Widow (Bradbridge's Wife) Probably Tenterden, Kent Probably the widow of Martin Bradbridge, burnt 16 January 1557 burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent [145]

198. Mistress Wilson (also referred to as 'Wilson's Wife') burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent [7][145]

199. Alice Benden, possibly also referred to as 'Benson's Wife' Staplehurst (or possibly Cranbrook), Kent[146] burnt 19 June 1557 Canterbury, Kent

Lewes Martyrs

200. Richard WoodmanWarbleton, Sussex iron-maker burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex [7][82][147]

201. George Stevens (or Steuens) Warbleton, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

202. William MainardMayfield, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

203. Alexander HosmanMayfield, Sussex servant of William Mainard burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

204. Thomasina WoodMayfield, Sussex maidservant of William Mainard burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

205. Margery Morris (or Morice) Heathfield, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

206. James Morris (or Morice) – son of Margery Heathfield, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

207. Denis Burcis (or Burgis) Buxted, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

208. Ann Ashdon (or Ashdown; also referred to as 'Ashdon's Wife') Rotherfield, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

209. Mary Groves (also referred to as 'Gloue's Wife') Lewes, Sussex burnt 22 June 1557 Lewes, Sussex

210. Simon Miller (or Milner) Lynn, Norfolk burnt 13 July 1557 Norwich, Norfolk

211. Elizabeth Cooper St Andrew's Church, Norwich, Norfolk wife of a pewterer burnt 13 July 1557 Norwich, Norfolk [7](which calls her 'a woman')

212. George Egles/Eagles hung, drawn & quartered, August 1557 Chelmsford, Essex[7][150]Colchester Martyrs of August 1557

213. William BongeorSt Nicholas Parish, Colchester, Essex glazier burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

214. William Purchase (or Purcas) Bocking, Essex fuller burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

215. Thomas Benhote (or Benold) Colchester, Essex tallow-chandler burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex

216. Agnes Silverside (or Smith) Colchester, Essex widow burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

217. Helen (or Ellen) EwringColchester, Essex wife of John Ewring, miller burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

218. Elizabeth Folk Colchester, Essex 'young maiden' and servant burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

219. William Munt (or Mount)Much Bentley, Essex burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex

220. Alice Munt (or Mount) Much Bentley, Essex wife of William Munt (or Mount) burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

221. Rose Allen (or Allin) Much Bentley, Essex spinster, daughter of Alice Mount burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

222. John JohnsonThorpe, Essex labourer burnt 2 August 1557 Colchester, Essex [151]

223. Richard Crashfield Wymondham, Norfolk burnt 5 August 1557 Norwich, Norfolk[7] which records 'one at Norwich' in July[152]

224. Father Fruier burnt August 1557 Rochester, Kent[7][150]

225. Robert Stevenson burnt August 1557 Rochester, Kent[153]

226. Sister of George Eagles burnt August 1557 Rochester, Kent

227. Unknown Woman burnt August 1557 Rochester, Kent[7]

228. Agnes Prest Boyton, Cornwall Spinner burnt 15 August 1557 Southernhay, Exeter [154]

229. Thomas Benion weaver burnt 27 August 1557 Bristol[141]

230. Joyce Lewis Mancetter, Warwickshire gentlewoman burnt September 1557 Lichfield, Staffordshire – may be the same as Joyce Bowes, August 1557 (the Regester)

231. Ralph Allerton/Rafe Glaiton Much Bentley, Essex burnt 17 September 1557 Islington

232. James Austoo (or Auscoo) burnt 17 September 1557 Islington

233. Margery Austoo (or Auscoo) burnt 17 September 1557 Islington[7][157]

234. Richard Roth (or Rooth) burnt 17 September 1557 Islington

235. Agnes Bongeor (also known as Bowmer's Wife), wife of Richard Bongeor (similar name but different death date) burnt 17 September (or unknown date July) Colchester, Essex (or March 1558, Colchester)

236. Margaret Thurston/Widow Thurston-similar name but different death date burnt 17 September (or unknown date July) Colchester, Essex [132](or March 1558, Colchester)

237. Cicely Ormes St Edmund's Parish, Norwich, Norfolk wife of Edmund Ormes, worsted-weaver burnt 23 September 1557 Norwich, Norfolk

238. Thomas Spurdance servant of the Queen burnt November 1557 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

239. John Halingdale/Hallingdale/Hollingday carpenter burnt, 18 November/or day unknown October 1557, Smithfield, London

240. William Sparrow burnt, 18 November/or day unknown October 1557 Smithfield, London

241. Richard Gibson gentleman[66] burnt, 18 November/or day unknown October 1557 Smithfield, London

242. John Rough/Jhon Roughe London/Islington, Middlesex clergyman – minister at London/Islington, Middlesex burnt 22 December 1557 Smithfield, London

243. Margaret Maring (or Mering) burnt 22 December 1557 Smithfield, London

244. [Unknown forename ...] Lawton burnt March 1558 Huntingdon, Huntingdonshire

245. Cuthbert Symson/Symion London/Islington, Middlesex clergyman – deacon of the church in London/Islington, Middlesex died 28 March 1558 Smithfield, London

246. Hugh Foxe hosier[66] died 28 March 1558 Smithfield, London

247. John Devinish/Jhon Denneshe wool winder, died 28 March 1558 Smithfield, London

248. William Nichol burnt 9 April 1558 SM9515 Haverfordwest/Hwlffordd, Pembrokeshire/Sir Benfro

249. William Seaman (or Symon) Mendlesham, Suffolk husbandman burnt 19 May 1558 Norwich, Norfolk

250. Thomas Hudson Aylsham, Norfolk glover burnt 19 May 1558 Norwich, Norfolk[166] described as 'Glouer' in [7]

251. Thomas Carman[n 28] burnt 19 May 1558 Norwich, Norfolk

252. William Harris burnt 26 May 1558 Colchester[7][127]

253. Richard Day burnt 26 May 1558 Colchester, Essex [7][127]

254. Christian George (female) burnt 26 May 1558 Colchester, Essex her husband had previously been married to Agnes George, mentioned above

Islington Martyrs

255. Henry Pond (or Houde) burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

256. Reinald Eastland (or Launder) burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

257. Robert Southain (or Southam) burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

258. Matthew Ricarby (or Ricarbie) burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

259. John Floyd (or Flood) burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

260. John Holiday (or Hollyday) burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

261. Roger Holland London (taken in or near St John's Wood) merchant tailor burnt 27 June 1558 Smithfield, London

262. Sir Richard Yeoman (or Yeman) Hadleigh, Suffolk clergyman – curate of Hadleigh, Suffolk burnt 10 July 1558 Norwich, Norfolk

Islington Martyrs (second group)

263. Robert Mills burnt 14 July 1558 Brentford, Middlesex [167]

264. Stephen Cotton burnt 14 July 1558 Brentford, Middlesex

265. Robert Dynes burnt 14 July 1558 Brentford, Middlesex [167]

266. Stephen Wight (or Wreight) burnt 14 July 1558 Brentford, Middlesex

267. John Slade burnt 14 July 1558 Brentford, Middlesex

268. William Pikes (aliases: Pikas, Peckes) tanner burnt 14 July 1558 Brentford, Middlesex [7][167]

269. John Cooke sawyer burnt about 25 July 1558 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk [170]

270. Robert Milles (or Plummer) shearman burnt about 25 July 1558 Bury St Edmunds

271. Alexander Lane wheelwright burnt about 25 July 1558 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

272. James Ashley bachelor burnt about 25 July 1558 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

273. Thomas Benbrike/Benbridge gentleman burnt unknown day in July 1558 Winchester, Hampshire

274. John (or Richard) Snell Bedale, Yorkshire burnt 9 September 1558 Richmond, Yorkshire

Ipswich Martyrs of 1558

275. Alexander Gooch (or Geche, or Gouch) Woodbridge or Melton, Suffolk weaver of shredding-coverlets burnt 4 November 1558 Ipswich Cornhill

276. Alice DriverGrundisburgh, Suffolk wife of a husbandman burnt 4 November 1558 Ipswich Cornhill [173]

277. Philip Humphrey (or Humfrey) burnt November 1558 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

278. John David/Jhon Dauy (brother of Henry David) burnt November 1558 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk

279. Henry David/H. Dauy (brother of John David) burnt November 1558 Bury St Edmunds, Suffolk [174]Canterbury Martyrs of 1558

280. John CornefordWrotham, Kent burnt 15 November 1558 Canterbury, Kent [175]

281. Christopher Brown Maidstone, Kent burnt 15 November 1558 Canterbury[175]

282. John HerstAshford, Kent burnt 15 November 1558 Canterbury, Kent

283. Alice Snoth burnt 15 November 1558 Canterbury, Kent [175]

284. Katherine Knight/Tynley an aged woman burnt 15 November 1558 Canterbury

#english reformation #history #protestant #now you will see me open up about my study of the english reformation #protestant martyrs

62 notes · View notes