#Jacklesverse Bingo | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zepskies · 3 months ago

Text

Maybe More Than Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve been a friend and ally to the Winchester brothers for years, but you and Dean break new ground while on a stakeout to catch a witch.

AN: Here’s another entry for @jacklesversebingo! It’s also based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @lacilou. 💜

Prompt: Window—Letter Opener—Binoculars

Request: I'd love to read about Dean and the reader who's his age or even a little older.

Song Inspo: “Over the Hills and Far Away” by Led Zeppelin

Word Count: 2.9K

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, bit of hurt/comfort, bit of spice.~

💜 Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Discreetly from the passenger side of the car, you peered through the binoculars again. Your target was in view through the unusual circular window: an average looking white man in his fifties, peeling a tangerine from the comfort of his kitchen.

According to his driver’s license, his name was Martin Reynolds. Sam was investigating the sudden death of his wife, Laura, and the wives of two other men in the small town of Whitebury, Mississippi. Laura was the first victim, so you and Dean were watching Martin for any suspicious activity.

Your companion shifted in his seat. You could hear the give of the well-worn leather against denim. The Impala wasn’t exactly inconspicuous for a stakeout, but he refused to be trapped in your “tiny-ass” Toyota Camry all afternoon. You preferred the term compact.

“What’s our he-witch up to?” Dean asked.

Your lips twitched at a smile.

“We don’t know if he’s a witch,” you said, but you passed him the binoculars.

Dean’s mouth quirked to one side before he took a look. “Well, he probably isn’t a shifter.”

“What makes you say that?”

He gestured back at the window and gave you back the binoculars. You peered over and saw that Martin had half the tangerine in his mouth while he opened his mail with a letter opener. It flashed like silver in the afternoon light.

“If that is silver, it would rule out a lot of things,” you agreed, “but it still wouldn’t tell us why he killed his wife.”

Dean looked over as a white Porsche pulled into Martin’s driveway.

“Hmm, well, I’d say motive is comin’ in hot. Literally,” he said, watching intently when a young woman stepped out of the car. Her dress was as tight as the ponytail tied high on her head, a coil of blonde bouncing down her back.

You sighed, with a roll of your eyes. “Typical.”

You noticed the way Dean’s smirk wiped the boredom away from his eyes. It was annoyingly handsome, along with the neatly trimmed stubble across his cheeks, framing a strong jaw and the enticing bow of his lips. You had to resolve to ignore all of it, heaving a small sigh.

You wedged the binoculars between you both and toyed with the silver rings on your fingers—both a fashion statement and a safety precaution.

“Could be a demon deal,” you said. “Three men sporting Touch of Gray, three wives over 40.”

“Damn. That’s cold,” Dean shook his head, crossing his arms from the driver’s seat. Always from the driver’s seat. “That’d be pretty cut and dry though. Downright stereotypical.”

You gave him a smile. “Since when do you like it complicated?”

“Like it?” he scoffed. “What I like and what I get are on two different fucking hemispheres.”

You sensed bitterness there, underneath the dry remark. You looked away from the scene in the kitchen where Martin was pouring Barbie, his presumed girlfriend, a glass of white wine. Just like you thought, Dean’s brief good humor faded, falling into his resting state. It was a harder look than you were used to seeing on him over the years. His lighter, devil-may-care attitude in his younger days seemed to gain a little bit of edge every time you saw him next.

A few decades of bullshit, blood, and loss will do that to you.

But every time he called, you answered.

“You okay?” you asked. You tried to hide the depths of your concern, but maybe you just weren’t good enough. Dean glanced at you and forced his crunched brows to relax, as if he’d caught himself opening the hatch a little too much. Letting his true depths come to light a little too long.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he replied.

Sure. Always good.

You met him with a long look, your head rolling onto your shoulder.

“Hey. You can be honest with me, you know,” you reminded him. “What, you think I’m gonna tell Sam all your secrets?”

Dean smiled a little, but he shook his head, remaining stubborn.

“Look, I’m fine. Just the usual bullshit,” he said. “Nothing you gotta be dragged into.”

You frowned. “What, aside from this hunt? Aside from the last ten years of bailing your ass out?”

That last part was more joking. The truth was, Sam and Dean had helped you just as often as you’d tried to help them.

Now, Dean just shook his head. The fact that he didn’t levy back a smartass response further let you know that something was off with him.

You bumped his arm lightly over his jacket.

“Come on, tell me all about your man feelings,” you teased. It had its intended effect, bringing a reluctant smile to Dean’s lips. He shot you a look, and you couldn’t help but admire how the dimming sun caught in his eyes, that pale green.

“Whatever. Like I said, I’m good,” he said, deflecting further by turning up his music. Yet another Led Zeppelin song was playing, but at least this one was more mellow. The guitar riff filled the car at a moderate volume. You guys were still on a stakeout, after all.

You shook your head, despite your smile. “You sound like a grumpy old man.”

His brows popped up. “Old?”

You shrugged impishly.

“‘Cause if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got a bit more mileage than I do,” he retorted.

You laughed, shoving his shoulder.

“Well, that’s just rude,” you said. “You’re not even a year behind me. Matter of fact, you’re just a few steps shy of Touch of Gray in there. I can even help you find your shade. I’m thinking, what, medium brown with a hint of silver fox? Could be very George Clooney.”

The disgruntled look on Dean’s face had you dying.

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” he said, even though his lips were curving upward at the sound of your laughter. Without you knowing, he took in the infectious sound, and the way you pressed the back of your hand against his arm while you tried to get ahold of yourself. It was everything he’d ever liked about you.

Easy. That was what it was, being with you.

The hard part always came afterward, watching you leave.

Letting you leave.

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you said, biting into your lower lip. You smudged your lipstick there, a dark, juicy red. It was distracting enough that Dean almost missed what you said next.

“You seem weighed down.” Your eyes were more serious then, beautiful and warm in their honesty. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve got fifty more pounds on your shoulders.”

Dean didn’t have an answer for you, even as he held your gaze.

His cell phone ringing cut through the guitar melody slowly fading into the next song. Dean fished it out of his pocket and answered Sam’s call.

“Hey, what’cha got?”

Your hunch proved correct. Sam tracked down the demon that made soul-claiming deals with a handful of men from the same golf club. All of them bored of their wives, and all of them with too much money on their hands—enough that they refused to lose any of it in a messy divorce.

It was like the opposite of the First Wives Club, and you were sickened.

When you and Dean questioned Martin, he felt just guilty enough to spill his guts.

Sam managed to gank the demon on his own, which left you and Dean with a conundrum: what to do with the marked men who sold their souls. No matter how much justice you thought they deserved, their souls were still damned to Hell either way. As Dean pointed out, that would be price enough to pay.

You were sour about it, but you let Martin and the rest of his scheming bastard friends go…after leaving him with a well-placed knee to the nads. At the very least, he wouldn’t be making any more scheming bastards anytime soon.

Dean was still smirking when you two piled into the Impala. Sam was waiting to be picked up at the bar across town, where he’d found the demon.

“Shut up already,” you laughed.

Dean shook his head, still grinning as he put the car in Drive.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Your smile remained, but not for long as you stared out the window. You liked the evening time, where there was still light enough to see, but the world was winding down in shades of orange-gold and violet. The streetlamps were slowly coming on, lighting the way along the road.

The car pulled to a stop at the red light, there at a busy intersection.

“Hey.”

Dean’s voice, deep and a little tired, caught your attention.

“You okay over there?” he asked. He was side-eying you again, this time in concern. You could see it behind the usual gruffness.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said. “Just makes me glad I never got married. Else I might’ve gotten shivved just so he could get out of paying alimony.”

Dean sucked his teeth. “Apparently it’s a bitch.”

You gave him a dry, withering look. He chuckled and briefly reached over to squeeze your arm.

“Hey, come on. That shit’s not happening to you,” he said. “He’d have to be dumb, deaf, and blind.”

You tilted your head at him, a small smile lighting up your face again. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed in a blush, especially with the way he was looking at you, all smirky and charming and unequivocally Dean.

“Green light,” you reminded him.

He returned his attention to the road. His right hand was molded onto the steering wheel casually. His left rested on his thigh, while his fingers bounced to the beat of a song off his second favorite Zeppelin album. And you knew that, because he’d been playing it on repeat all day.

Many have I loved, and many times been bitten. Many times I've gazed along the open road…

You watched his profile, for a moment spellbound. The sky dimmed over his shoulder, casting him in both light and shadow, gold and dark.

“Have you ever…” You didn’t even know where you were going with this, but you’d already opened your mouth, and Dean was already glancing your way, with half his gaze on the road ahead.

“You ever gotten close to having something real? Someone who's not gonna shiv you when you’re fifty,” you said.

A laugh caught in his throat. “Hell, I never thought I’d see my forties, but here we are. Apparently I’m old.”

He shot you a wry look. You smiled.

“That’s one hell of a way to avoid the question,” you said.

Dean shook his head, this time with a sigh under his breath. For a second, you didn’t think he would answer you. You almost didn’t blame him.

The music filled the silence in between.

Mellow is the man who knows what he's been missing. Many, many men can't see the open road…

“Once,” Dean admitted. “I thought I had it, but uh…didn’t take.”

“Was she a hunter?” you asked.

Dean shook his head, his eyes staying on what lied ahead.

“Just wasn’t my life,” he said. “Couldn’t keep dragging her into mine.”

There was a lot there, buried deep. You couldn’t even begin to find a shovel, so you let it be. Though you should’ve predicted the way he turned it back on you.

“And you?” he said, brows raised. “Never had a douchebag in a sport coat, playing Caddyshack at the club every weekend?”

You shook your head as you laughed. If nothing else, Dean could paint a picture.

“Definitely fucking not.” You rested your chin in your palm, your elbow finding purchase above the door handle. “You know me. I’m either too much or not enough.”

You didn’t notice it then, but Dean looked over at you with a frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t like the melancholy in your voice, or the way you turned to look out the window, like you were trying to hide from him.

Instead of putting voice to any of the thoughts rolling through his head, he kept driving.

The Impala rumbled to a stop in the parking lot in front of the bar. You were ready to meet Sam for a couple of beers inside. You grabbed your bag resting on the floor between your feet, but Dean’s stayed your hand, his own wrapping warmly around your arm.

You looked over at him with blinking, expectant eyes. He met you with sincerity.

“Anybody who says you ain’t enough, doesn’t know you,” he said. And then, his smile was back, quirking up at the corner. “At least, not like I do.”

Slowly, you smiled back. Your blush fairly radiated down your neck as well as your face, but you crossed your arms.

“So I’m too much. Is that what you’re saying?” you said.

He chuckled. “I plead the Fifth on that one.”

You fell into a fit of laughter along with him, and you both climbed out of the car feeling a little bit lighter. The blaring red neon sign above the bar blinded you for a moment. You turned to see Dean fiddling with his keys, trying to pick out the right one to lock up the car.

Some deep-seated feeling compelled you to go to him. You made your way around the hood and stopped just behind him. You called his name softly.

Dean turned to look at you over his shoulder. He was surprised to find you there so close. It led him to turn around all the way.

You didn’t give him, or even yourself time to think.

You grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled yourself up to press your lips to his. It was more or less a gentle kiss. Just a sweet, slow meeting of lips. You pulled away just as slowly, the heels of your boots lowering back down to the ground.

Dean blinked his eyes open. When he came back to himself, he looked down at you in surprise and with a hint of a smile. He had the imprint of your lipstick smudged across his plush mouth.

“What was that for?” he asked.

You smoothed your hands over his jacket. It was a bit too hard to meet his eyes, so yours landed somewhere around his chest. It was also too hard to say what you really wanted to say, so you settled on half of the truth.

“A thank you, I guess,” you said. “And maybe the next time I see you, you’ll have a little less weight on your shoulders.”

His calloused hand cupped your cheek, and he earned your gaze, blinking up at him through your lashes. You couldn’t name everything you saw in his eyes, but it was more than just surprise or lust. In fact, he seemed to be debating with himself, fighting something deep inside.

You saw the exact moment he made his decision.

“Maybe we should make it count then,” he said, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

You didn’t even trust your voice, but your gaze drifted down from his eyes, to his mouth. Your shallow nod in agreement was like releasing him from his chains.

Dean framed your face with both hands and drew you into his kiss, like he was breathing life into you. You certainly felt alive.

You clung to the back of his shirt, to his arms, while he gathered you flush against his chest. His strong hands glided their way down the small of your back, eliciting tingles down your spine. All the while, he drew you in deeper and deeper with each new sensuous glide of his lips against yours.

You yelped in surprise when he turned with you in his arms, just to press you into the side of his car. Dean pulled open the door to the backseat, and you climbed in willingly. He followed after you, at the same time you dragged him over by the front of his shirt. Soon his jacket was wrenched off his shoulders along with yours, both tossed somewhere in the front seats along with his shirt.

While you explored the new expanse of tanned skin, roaming your hands over his strong, broad shoulders and dipping down his back, his lips had fastened to your neck, teasing and grazing with his teeth along your pulse point.

You were already moaning and panting in his ear, your body arching to meet his as you slung a leg across his lap. He grabbed onto your thigh and squeezed, pulling you even tighter against him.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Aren’t we a little old to be making out in the backseat?” you said.

“You can be a little old for a lotta things, sweetheart,” said Dean, his voice gravel and deep as sin. “But this ain’t one of ‘em.”

AN: Some spicy flangst there for ya! It was honestly refreshing to write some Dean after working on so much Soldier Boy. I love that guy, but he gives me stress sometimes. 😂 Trying to cure Dean's angst is a fun break! 💜

Read the Sequel:

Bonus shot! Resless Nights:

Summary: After a tryst you instigated in the backseat of his Baby, you and Dean have started something new. He’s just not sure that you’re as “all in” as you claimed to be.

▶️ Keep Reading: Restless Nights

Join Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024 Masterlist

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @this-is-me19

@emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found

@thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @globetrotter28

@adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka

@branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24

@ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley

@sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @mimaria420

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @ajjustice

@ades106 @my-stories-vault @cevansbaby-dove @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof

@tmb510 @skyesthebomb @syrma-sensei @harleycao @king-of-milf-lovers

@pizzagirlxnsfwx @justsom3onesworld @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @beskarfilms @lunaticgurly

@malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester @jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean

@violetlilysunshine @traiitorjoe @tsofo26 @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @torchbearerkyle @mrlonelycat

@deans-daydream @deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70

@clinicallydepresso @liopleurodean @brujaporfavor @xiphoidbones @xsophianicolex

@call-me-mrs-winchester @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @ghostslillady

@siampie @hell-o-kittys

779 notes · View notes

spnbabe67 · 4 days ago

Text

Just a Note

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of a little spicyness, mentions of injuries

Summary: When you start receiving little notes around the Bunker, you go on a hunt trying to find your secret admirer.

Word Count: 1600

Authors Note: This is my @spnfanficpond Secret Santa for @kazsrm67. This also fulfills squares for @jacklesversebingo and @anyfandomgoesbingo Happy Holidays everyone!

Jacklesverse Bingo Prompt: Secret Admirer

Any Fandom Goes Bingo Prompt: Head Wound

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @king-of-milf-lovers

It started out as sticky notes placed strategically in places across the Bunker where only you would find them: on the mirror in your room, or on the stack of books you kept sequestered to a table in the corner of the library room. Various colors of square paper with little compliments, albeit a little awkward, scrawled across them. The first time you’d found one, a blue square tucked into the cubby where you kept your bug-out bag in the armory, you’d been caught off guard. The neon, stark against the muted brown and black and grey tones, had caught your eye as you went about replacing and checking the supplies you kept within your duffel. You plucked the paper from where it was nestled amongst the various weapons and supplies kept within, sitting in wait for the next hunt. As you gingerly pulled the sticky note from your bag, you noticed the scrawling words written across it in black ink.

You look sharper than these knives.

Your head cocked to the side, face contorted into a mixture of confusion and amusement. Was that meant to be a compliment? More importantly, who was it from? Aside from yourself, Sam and Dean both took up permanent residence in the Men of Letters Bunker. Charlie, your childhood best friend and the person who introduced you to the Winchester brothers and the hunting world in general also lived here 90% of the time. It could be here playing one of her many pranks. A few other hunters used this place as refuge between hunts or came here for the endless trove of supernatural knowledge archived within its walls. You’d even convinced Dean, despite his best efforts to ignore your pleas, to host a couple seminars and training sessions for newer (and seasoned) hunters using the knowledge you and Sam spent hours upon hours organizing.

“When I was first introduced to this world, I wish I’d had this kind of training available to me,” You’d reasoned with him one day in the kitchen. “I’d have a lot less scars and a lot less near death experiences if I had.”

The eldest Winchester, whom you’d grown close to in the months you’d worked with him, Sam, and the cabal of supernatural beings that they considered friends or at the very least occasional allies, leaned against the island with a mug of freshly brewed coffee in hand.

“I’m not sayin’ it’s a bad thing, Sweetheart.” Dean placated you, setting his mug on the counter. “All I’m sayin’ is that there’s more to it than just puttin’ flyers on the street. How would we even advertise somethin’ like this?”

You shrugged. “You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

And figure it out he had. With the help of Charlie and Sam, the four of you managed to create a strategically worded ad, spreading it to known hunters who would even be remotely interested. It had spread like wildfire from there. So it was very possible one of the hunters passing through had put it in your bag. Even that explanation didn’t quite fit, but at the time it was a one-off, a fluke to never happen again.

That was until another one showed up. You’d taken a blow to the head when a rogue shifter slammed you back into a wall, knocking you unconscious. Blearily you opened your eyes to the dim light of the Bunker’s infirmary. A dull ache throbbed at the back of your head as you looked around. The room was kept mostly dark save for a lamp in the corner. I must have a concussion, you thought as you sat up, the crisp white sheets crumpled on your lap. You had reached over to check the clock on the table next to the bed when you saw yet another Post-it stuck to the top of it. The paper was red this time, but the writing held the same characteristics of the first one.

You take my breath away.

Your eyes must have read the sentence a hundred times over, wracking your brain trying to figure out who in the Hell is leaving you these messages. Some rational part of you whispered there were really only two options. Sam or Dean. You knew it wasn’t Sam; your relationship with the younger brother was strictly familial. You’d never seen him as anything other than a younger brother, despite his protests that he was only 6 months younger than you.

Dean on the other hand was a different story. Sometimes he acted like you were another younger sibling for him to be responsible for, other times the tension between the two of you could be cut with the dullest knife. Lingering eyes as the three of you changed between or after hunts, his fingers trailing over your hair and tucking it behind your ear when he assumed you were dead asleep. You’d be lying if he was the only one giving mixed signals. It made sense. To anyone who didn’t know him, Dean was a casanova, a womanizer who took what he wanted and offered nothing. And sure, maybe he was that way in his early 20’s, but life and the work of a hunter had taken a toll on him. So while you and Sam partook in one night stands, it was Dean who usually ended the night alone.

You found the notes enduring, actually, and very in character for him. So from that moment in the infirmary, you compiled the notes and the occasional small gifts left for you. Once you were sure it was, in fact, Dean showering you in corny one liners and sweet nothings, you hatched a plan. You figured there were a couple ways to go about it. One: confront him head on, which he very well might deny all together in embarrassment. Two: let the notes continue to pile up, hopefully bottlenecking Dean into coming to you personally. Or three: beat him at his own game. Out of all of them, the third sounded the most fun.

Like a game of tag, the next time it was your turn to go on the supply run, you stopped by a Dollar Tree and grabbed a stack of Post-its. Unfortunately, they only had the plain and frankly ugly yellow ones, but they’d do. If you played your cards right, you shouldn’t need too many of them anyway. You snuck around the Bunker for nearly a week, leaving the Post-its in inconspicuous places as Dean had. The first one you’d left next to the decanter of water he kept by his bedside, calling him a tall drink of water. The next one was slid under his disassembled 1911 when he went to take a break. You giggled to yourself as you positioned it, reading the line you’d printed on it. Is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?

On the 7th day with no response from Dean, no change in behavior when the three (or four when Charlie came for dinner) of you went on hunts or stuck around the Bunker, you had started to lose hope. Maybe it was someone else and you’d read into the situation completely wrong. But something in your gut told you that you were barking up the right tree. Give it one last try, it seemed to say. So one last try it was. You’d know once and for all if it was Dean. You wrote the message that started it all on a sticky note, making sure Dean was in the kitchen before slinking off to the armory. All of you kept at least one bingo bag here, the main thing was finding which one was Dean’s. He kept his main pack in his room or in Baby’s trunk so it took some rooting around until you found the right one.

Just as you unzipped the bag, poised to place the sticky note against the blade of one of Dean’s hunting knives, a voice called out your name from behind you. You froze, your lips pressing into a thin line as a small cheeky smile started to form. You stood up, turning around to see Dean leaning against the door jam.

“Whatcha doin’ Sweetheart?” He asked innocently, but his tone and the smug look on his face was anything but.

“Nothin’.” You mumbled, suddenly a little sheepish. The plan didn’t involve you getting caught red handed. “You weren't supposed to catch me.”

“Figured as much.” He joked, crossing the space between you, plucking the Post-it from your hand, his fingers brushing against your own in a way that made your heart flutter a little faster than it already was.

“Asshole.” You huffed equally as teasing,watching him look at the sticky note, reading your chicken scratch.

You were both silent as Dean’s eyes met yours, his cheeks tinged a bit pink. You were sure your own were as well as you suddenly felt the urge to hide from his observing gaze.

“So,” Dean breathed. “What now?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought. Giving you the option to back out, to deny this thing between you both even though he’d quite literally caught you leaving a flirtatious note in his bag. You let your hand drift forward, hesitantly finding his own. You intertwined your fingers, feeling his callouses brush your own as you gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“I think now, you need to start sayin’ those things to me in person, not just on paper.” You gave him a small smile.

“Sounds like a plan, Sweetheart.”

#jacklesversebingo2024 #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural dean #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x female!reader

158 notes · View notes

rizlowwritessortof · 2 months ago

Text

Swearing Is Caring

Second square for @jacklesverse-bingo 2024!

Written for Jacklesversebingo2024. Prompt for this one is 'drenched in sweat and blood but never looked hotter.' Hope you enjoy!

The last time Andi showed up on Russ's doorstep, he was more than happy to see her. This time is different. But he never could stay mad at her for long, and making up is the best part.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x OC (Andi)

Word Count: 3835

Warnings: Just a little smut and fluff, non-lethal injuries

Andi sat in the car outside the cabin, fingers clenched around the steering wheel as she expelled a tense breath between pursed lips. He was not going to be happy, but she had already decided it was worth it. He’d just have to deal with it.

She pried her fingers loose and got out of her car, loading her bag on one shoulder and heading for the door. She lifted her chin, then knocked briskly before stepping inside.

Russell came out of the next room, his gun held low at his hip, his entire body alert and aware. When his focus landed on her, his shoulders relaxed and he tucked his gun away with a frown. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Andi looked him in the eye. “Heard you were a man down. So I’m here to help.”

He tucked his gun away, shaking his head, his lips pressed into a straight line as he glared at her. “Goddammit, Andi. She called you, didn’t she.”

“Ann? Yeah, she called me. But this was my decision.”

“Well, I’m overruling your decision. Go home.” He turned his back to walk away, but he didn’t get far.

“I’m not leaving, Russ.”

He whirled to face her again, his eyes sparking with anger at her defiance. “You’re a fucking civilian. You’ve got no business getting involved in this.”

“She said one of the guys was out with an injury and your team was going in down a gun. I’m not letting you go in short when I’m this close. So deal with it, Russell. I’m not leaving. You can’t send me home, Horizon hired me for this job. Out of your hands, big man.”

She pushed her way by him, entering the next room where the rest of the team was gathered. “Andi?! Holy shit!” She grinned at the ebony-skinned giant who charged at her, pulling her off the floor in a bear hug. “Come here, baby girl! Damn, it’s good to see you!”

She was laughing as he set her down. “Hey, Sweets. Good to see you, too. Hey, Seeger,” she said to another former teammate, who gave her a one-armed hug and friendly smirk, returning her greeting.

Sweets shoved at the shoulder of the younger man beside him. “This is Conner.”

Andi smiled and nodded. “Hey, Conner. Nice to meet you.”

“Didn’t tell us Andi was comin’ with us, chief,” Sweets aimed at Russell, who was still glowering.

“Didn’t know. Now if the reunion is over, can we get back to business?” Russ turned his back on them, smoothing the map out flat on the large table. Sweets glanced at Andi, who rolled her eyes, earning her a smirk and a nod from the big man as they gathered around the table.

Russ went over the mission details, pointing out entry points, expected resistance and their plan of attack. “Our objective is to capture Salazar. End of story. They want him alive. So we do what we have to. We’re not looking to take anybody else in, and we do what we have to do to grab him and get him out of there. Horizon will handle clean-up, we just do our job and get the hell out.”

The team listened as he outlined the mission in a little more detail. “Salazar is a big dog in the cartel we’ve been targeting for the last year. He bought this little Texas hideaway to meet up with his mistress on the sly, and the intel is that he doesn’t normally bring too many men with him, likes to keep it on the down low. Horizon wants Salazar first, and DEA can have him when they’re done.”

After a couple of quiet questions and discussion, they separated to gear up. Andi pulled her vest from her bag and strapped it on, her eyes straying to Russ as he was doing the same. He hadn’t even looked at her since their first altercation, and she clenched her teeth with a sigh, forcing her emotions down as she finished getting ready. She’d fight with him later.

They loaded up into two jeeps, Andi crawling in the back of the one Russ was driving with Sweets in the passenger seat. It was a long, quiet drive, about 45 minutes to their destination, everyone tense and silent. Finally, Russ stated, “We’re about 5 minutes out,” and Andi steeled herself, focusing on the job ahead.

“Hey, Sweets – I don’t suppose…” she started, and he turned to her with a grin, reaching into a pocket and handing her a stick of her favorite cinnamon gum. “You never let me down, Sweets,” she smiled, and he nodded.

“I got your back, girl.”

Russ pulled the Jeep to a halt, putting it in park and shutting off the lights. “Okay, we’re on foot from here,” he said as the other vehicle pulled in behind him. They all piled out, Russ giving orders in a clear, quiet voice. “Sweets, you and Andi take the back, Seeger and I go in the front. Conner, you watch the perimeter. Everybody’s coms are good?” Everyone nodded. “Okay, let’s get this son of a bitch.”

The group moved almost silently, finally emerging through the trees on the south side of the large lake house. Russ moved in close to Andi, leaning to speak softly in her ear. “Be careful.”

“Always am,” she reassured him, then headed off with Sweets to the back of the house towards the lake.

Several minutes later all hell broke loose. Salazar hadn’t been meeting his mistress at the lake house this time around. He was meeting with his next-in-command, seven of them, and things got ugly.

Russell came into the hallway with Salazar in tow, held between him and Seeger, a bag over the prisoner’s head. Russ was swiping blood out of his eyes from a cut on his forehead, the result of an unfortunate meeting with the butt of a rifle. Three men lay dead or incapacitated behind them, and Seeger raised his gun to take out a fourth as they pushed towards the front door.

Sweets and Andi finished off a couple more men before rushing out the back door and heading around the building, guns at the ready in case any more cartel goons showed up. Her eyes had just landed on Russ’s bleeding face when a shot rang out from a nearby window, and she hit the ground hard. “Andi!” Sweets shouted, firing a shot at their assailant, and Russ stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide as he turned to look.

She raised her hand, groaning in pain, forcing out the words. “M’okay – hit my vest.”

“She’s okay!” Sweets called out, and Russ felt his heart start beating again.

“Conner! You and Seeger get him to the Jeep and let’s get the fuck out of here!” Russ ordered, heading to help Sweets get Andi to her feet. “Goddammit, Andi – can you walk?” he asked, and she nodded, wincing in pain, glad for their assistance as they hurried away from the house. They made it back through the trees and to the Jeeps, Seeger and Conner already backing out with Salazar tied down in the back seat. “Sweets, drive.”

He nodded and climbed behind the wheel, and Russ helped Andi into the back seat, sliding in beside her. “Sure you’re okay?” he asked as they pulled out, and she nodded, still grimacing in pain.

“Fuck, that hurts,” she managed, and he looked down, his frown deepening.

“If your vest took the hit, why are you bleeding?” He worked at the fastenings on her vest, clenching his teeth at her grunt of pain as she helped him remove it. The shoulder of her shirt was dark with blood, and Russ pulled out his knife, slicing from the sleeve to the neck of her shirt, pulling the front down and leaning over her so he could see her injury. She looked down, squeezing her eyes shut as he turned on the overhead light. There was a large splinter of wood embedded deep in her shoulder, right below her collarbone. “Must have caught a ricochet. Shit.”

“Didn’t even feel it until now.”

“We’ll take care of that when we get back to the cabin,” he said, shutting the light off again, putting an arm around her and letting her lean into his side. He pulled the corner of his jacket up and wiped at the blood on his forehead, then let his head drop back against the seat with a shaky sigh. Too close. Too fucking close.

When they finally got back to the cabin, Russ helped Andi get out and turned to Sweets. “You three mount up and take Salazar in, get him locked down. And if you see Ann, you can tell her we’re gonna have a talk about the quality of their intel,” he growled.

The big man nodded, then looked hard at Andi. “I’m good, Sweets. Promise.” He gave her good shoulder a squeeze, then left them to climb into the other Jeep beside their hooded captive. Andi watched them pull away, then turned towards the cabin, ready to get off her feet and find some whiskey.

“Yeah, let’s get you inside, I need to check you out,” Russell said, and she shot him a brave attempt at a smile.

“Always the sweet talker.”

They entered the cabin, and she sank down on the edge of the old sofa, trying like hell not to groan in pain. Russ was already digging through the cabinet for the medical supplies, coming back with a med kit and then heading to the bathroom for a stack of towels. Next was the almost-full bottle of whiskey that sat on the table, and Andi grabbed it from his hand, taking off the lid and lifting it to her lips, taking several swallows.

“Easy, there, hardcore,” Russell said, gently taking the bottle from her. “Need some of that for – uh – medicinal purposes.”

“That’s what I was using it for.” She looked down as he examined the chunk of wood in her shoulder. “Can you get it out?”

“Yeah, it looks pretty solid. Just didn’t want it falling apart, leaving pieces in there to get infected.” His eyes searched hers for a moment before she looked away and nodded.

“Okay, let’s do this. You need some stitches.”

“I’m fine, let’s get this done first. This is gonna have to go.” He took his knife and sliced through the strap to her grey sport bra, pushing the fabric out of the way. His jaw worked as he contemplated the best approach, finally taking out his multi-tool and readying the pliers as Andi grabbed one of the clean towels. “Okay, hold on.” He got a good grip on the wood and pulled, fast and smooth, sending a fresh rush of blood to soak into what was left of Andi’s clothes. She held the towel to the wound, wincing as she put pressure on it. Russ laid the huge splinter aside and looked down at her, dreading what was coming next. “Okay, now comes the fun part.”

She nodded, laying down on the sofa and letting Russell tuck towels around her shoulder. He grabbed the whiskey, reaching out for her to take hold of his left hand. “Ready?” She squeezed his hand in answer, and he poured whiskey into the wound, clenching his teeth as her back arched up in pain, uncontrollable whimpers escaping her lips as she gripped his hand so hard he felt the bones creak. Slowly, she eased back down, her chest heaving as she regained control. “I’m sorry,” he said softly, watching a tear escape the corner of her eye.

“I know – not your fault.” Russ gave her a couple more minutes to recover, then helped her sit up.

“I think we should do a couple of stitches.” She agreed, and he pulled a chair up close, taking care of the stitches quickly with a practiced hand.

She watched his face as he finished bandaging her shoulder, meeting his eyes when he finally looked up. “Thank you, Russ.”

“Yeah, any time. Let’s just not do it again, okay?” He put a hand to her face, his thumb stroking over her cheekbone. She smiled softly, dropping her gaze, and he pulled his hand back. “So – got a clean shirt in your bag?” She nodded, and he stood up, pushing the chair back and reaching for her duffle.

She winced as she tried to remove her ruined shirt, and Russell shook his head. “Here, let me help.” He pulled the bloodied shirt over her head, then slipped a finger under the remaining strap of her bra. “Want this off, too?”

Andi nodded. “Yeah, it’s ruined, anyway.” Russ reached around behind her, his brows bunching with an impatient frown.

“Who invented these fucking things? How the hell are you supposed to get this off?” he grumped, and Andi smiled.

“Just hand me your knife,” she said, taking it from him and slicing through the fabric, letting him help her slip it over her good shoulder and off. He tossed it disdainfully across the room, then turned, his eyes going directly to the large bruise blooming in the middle of her chest and spreading up the inside slope of both breasts.

“Goddammit, Andi,” he swore quietly.

“You’ve gotta stop swearing at me, Russ,” she teased, but he didn’t smile.

“Swearing is caring.”

“That is not how that saying goes.”

“It is for me. When it involves you. What if he would’ve missed your vest? Or had armor-piercing rounds?”

“He didn’t. And I thought we didn’t ‘what if’ after missions. That was always the rule.”

He finally looked up at her, his jaw working a little before he spoke. “You never came that close to being killed before. And you never should have been there, Andi. You should have been safe at home, not in the line of fire.”

Andi rolled her eyes, her temper flaring. “What about all the jobs you do that I don’t even know about? I hardly ever hear from you, Russ. A text here and there, or a random late-night phone call - other than that I’m in the dark all the time. I never know when you’re going on a mission, or if you’re hurt, or dead. I have that hanging over my head every damn day, but you can’t handle one job where you actually got to see the outcome in person, where you got to verify that I’m okay?” The silence still rang with her anger for a few seconds before he answered.

He sighed, guilt in his eyes as he looked away. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll try to do better.”

Andi nodded, skepticism clear on her face. “Heard that before.” She closed her eyes for a second, then pulled her clean shirt over her head, letting him help her get the injured arm in the sleeve. “How about we don’t do this right now?”

Russell bit at the inside of his lip, then nodded. “Yeah. Okay.”

Andi rose to her feet, gesturing towards the chair. “Okay, your turn. Sit,” she ordered.

“Kinda bossy when you’re in pain,” Russell grumbled, plopping down on the seat. She ignored him, going to the bathroom and letting the water run until it was warm to wet a washcloth. She grabbed the med kit and set it on the table, then put a hand on top of his head and tilted it back a bit.

“Gotta clean you up a little before we do stitches.” He was drenched in sweat and blood, but – fuck it all – he’d never looked hotter. Those damn gorgeous green eyes of his were staring up at her with a look she couldn’t handle at the moment, so she avoided looking into them as she gently cleaned his face and down his neck where the blood had run down onto his shirt. “You should just take this off. It’s a mess.”

He stripped out of his shirt and she took it from him, dropping it to the table along with the now-filthy washcloth. “How many?” he asked.

Andi tilted her head, examining the cut carefully with one hand. “I think we can get by with four.” He nodded, and she turned to ready the needle.

She turned back to him, pausing for a moment before saying, “Okay, easiest way to do this is…” She straddled his lap, looking into his eyes. “Ready?”

“Yep, go for it,” he answered, his voice low and subdued. He let out a little hiss as the needle first went in, then settled, letting his hands rest on her hips. She took her bottom lip between her teeth as she started the second stitch, and he let out a quiet moan.

“Sorry,” she whispered.

“Not why... never mind.”

She had finished off the second stitch and was getting ready for the third when he leaned up and nestled his face into her neck. He placed a slow, lingering kiss just below her ear, his breath warm against her skin, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to ignore the flush of heat through her body. “You’re making this kinda hard.”

“You’re makin’ it hard, honey,” he said, his voice raspy with want, and Andi dropped her head back with a soft laugh.

“Can you please just be good for a couple more minutes?”

“I can be good for a couple of minutes – after that I’m gonna be great,” he mumbled, still nuzzling at her neck, and she shook her head with a wry smile as he went on, his tone very persuasive. “I’m not bleeding anymore, can’t we just finish this later?”

She sighed in frustration at him, even though she couldn’t keep the smile from teasing at her lips. “No. We need to finish this now. Sit up and behave.”

His hands were smoothing over her hips, giving a little squeeze here and there, but she managed to finally put in the last two stitches, tying off the last one and turning to drop the needle to the table.

As she turned back, he slipped a hand behind her neck and pulled her in for a scorching kiss. She fought it for a moment, her anger still stinging a little, but damn it – she never could resist him. He hummed in approval as she responded, his hands slipping under the hem of her shirt. “Can we take this back off?” he asked softly, and she looked into his eyes with a doubtful expression.

“We can, but – it’s so ugly.”

Russ shook his head as he helped her remove her shirt. “No, it’s not ugly. It’s a message. It’s saying, “Fuck you, asshole! You tried to kill me, but I’m still here – and I’ve got a fabulous pair of tits.” A slow grin curved his lips as Andi laughed in spite of herself, and he leaned in to kiss her again, one hand sliding up to gently cradle her breast in his hand, thumb brushing over her nipple. She shivered, her hands roaming up his sides and around to explore the muscled expanse of his back. He nudged his nose against hers, watching her eyes flutter closed as he teased at her, leaning close to whisper, “Bed?”

She opened her eyes and shook her head. “I wanna ride.”

He scraped his teeth over his plump bottom lip and smirked. “Whatever you want, honey.”

She pushed back and rose to her feet, letting him stand up as well as they both shed the rest of their clothes, kicking their boots to the side and out of their way. Russ sat back down, eyes glowing as he watched Andi move close again, reaching his hand between her thighs and groaning as he slipped two fingers up into her silky heat. She pushed down until he was knuckle-deep, lips parting as she let out a shuddering breath. She whispered his name as he stroked his fingers over her sweet spot, her legs beginning to tremble. “Need you now,” she managed, and he pulled his hand back, holding his cock steady as she slowly took him in, hands braced on his shoulders.

“So good,” he groaned as she settled fully on his lap, then leaned forward to kiss him hungrily. His hands wandered over her body, caressing and kneading at her warm skin, his hips rising to meet her as she began to move on top of him.

He loved nothing more than to watch her when she was like this, her body smooth and sinuous as she rode him. She was getting close, and he slipped his fingers down between them to rub her clit, moaning along with her as she squeezed hard around his cock. He wasn’t going to last much longer, either, and he began thrusting his hips, driving in hard and deep, his other hand gripping her hip for leverage.

She went off like a skyrocket, gasping and then crying out as she came, and he didn’t even try to hold back, joining her with a long, low growl. She rode it out, seemingly forever, finally collapsing with a hard shudder into his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. They sat there, his arms wrapped around her, for several minutes before she lifted her head, and he captured her lips beneath his for a slow, gentle kiss. He looked into her eyes, a playful sparkle in his. “Goddammit, Andi.”

She tried in vain to completely smother a smile, but it tugged at the corners of her mouth. “What am I gonna do with you?”

Russell’s smile faded slowly, and he leaned his forehead against hers. “I don’t know. But – just don’t give up on me, okay? Don’t you ever give up on me.” She pulled away, putting both hands up to his face, bringing him in close, her whole soul in their kiss, leaving him stunned and speechless for a moment.

“So – where are you off to next?” she asked softly, letting one hand drop to his shoulder as the fingers of the other combed through his beard.

He shrugged, pursing his lips thoughtfully. “Not sure. Haven’t heard anything about a new gig, so…”

She ducked her head down, peering up at him until he met her gaze again. “Well, I took the rest of this week off, so I don’t have to be back at work until Monday.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her, a smile slowly lighting his face. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know how long this job was gonna take. So – how about spending some time at my place? I have real food, and beer, and a shower with actual water pressure,” she said, tracing his bottom lip with her fingertip, “and really soft sheets.”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “You hittin’ on me?”

She laughed. “Maybe.”

He grinned, kissing her and landing a playful little swat to her ass. “Well, then, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Tags for my lovelies:

@saenalife @deanscarlett @jensensgotyoudean @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog

@geeklibrarian @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel

@darcia22 @winchesterprincessbride @ellen-reincarnated1967 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @deanslittleangel2y5

@melanie451 @spectaculacular-sammy @bookchic20 @jodyri @selma-jean-blog

@savingapplepie-eatingthings @kittenofdoomage @masked-maiden42 @lean-mean-deanwinchester @ericuhlorain

@undecided-garden @ceeceewinchester @typicalweirdbookworm @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @youtoldalie

@tanithlowisabamf-blog @deandoesthingstome @jxackles @nerdwholikesword @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic

@kreweofimp @gabavaldman @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog @darkx143 @disassociativedogma

@ioanashalala @jencharlan @deansthirstblog @dorky-and-i-know-it @mischief-maker1

@winchestersandwordprocessors @percussiongirl2017 @bringmesomepie56 @akshi8278 @torn-and-frayed

@sandlee44 @wingedcatninja @evansrogerskitten @emoryhemsworth @peaceinourtime82

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @sarcasmqueen74 @maliburenee @mrsjenniferwinchester @yeehawbitchs

@emily-winchester @hobby27 spnbaby-67 @zepskies @ladysparkles78

@alwaystiredandconfused @just-another-busyfangirl @muhahaha303 @deansimpalababy @kr804573

@suckitands33 @ej13928 @lmhf1

#swearing is caring #jacklesversebingo24 #russell shaw fic #russell x oc #russell x andi #smut #fluff

58 notes · View notes

deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year ago

Text

jacklesverse bingo 2023 | MASTERLIST

most of these will be 18+ stories that include sexual or dark themes, individual warnings will be added for each one

hello y’all this is my first bingo and I’m so excited to start and finish my @jacklesversebingo card.

— eris

guidebook for sinners turned saints [smut, 8.8k]

description— dean uses the sexiest seduction methods to get laid when he keeps getting cockblocked by his gaming girlfriend.

mon cœur s’ouvre à ta voix [smut, 5k]

description — aka. part II of mattel. finally, in the privacy of your home, you find the willpower to make the afternoon all about dean (as you’d originally hoped) when he tries to distract you from your plans.

and their name was treason [gen, 2k]

description — with the help of charlie, sam and Dean have become prolific con artists. but after losing his work, dean’s left wondering how do you con a con artist?

the love letter collection : part II [fluff, 2.6k]

description — being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the soft version.

seven [smut, 5.2k]

description — dean would rather be doing something else with his time rather than doing research, he’d rather be doing her.

the politics of knife fighting [flangst, 4.5k]

description — tom tried to live a normal life after getting away from his hometown, but he should’ve known his little slice of heaven would go bad eventually.

closer than this [smut, 2.2k]

description — something quick. something hot. in between busy tasks. when everyone else is distracted.

hero of the half-truth [smut, 3.7k]

description — you can’t decide whether it’s a punishment or not when you go to see soldier boy knowing that he’s trying to keep you safe from everything in his life

demonology and heartache [smut, 4.9k]

description — dean is a devout catholic and has never known a life outside the church, all his resolve is broken by the temptation of a hellish seductress.

mattel [smut, 2.9k]

description — looking for some new toys to spice up the bedroom, Dean discloses his insecurities and leaves you thinking of ways to help erase them.

same book but never the same page [fluff, 5.6k]

description — part III of the love letter collection. still dreamwalking. chasing after someone who can destroy worlds. and dean is jealous of his variants. what could go wrong?

two hearted [smut, 4.8k]

description — playing pretend, doing risky things, improv, Valentine’s Day is more than “unattached drifter Christmas” now.

sweet kansas honey [smut, 1.5k]

description — invited by her friend to a bee farm, but Dean wasn’t invited to their cute day out. Dean gets pouty… and, ya know, horny.

colder than my heart, if you can imagine [gen, 2.3k]

description — you and soldier boy can’t seem to get along, but it may be because of something deeper than hatred or jealousy.

the love letter collection : part I [smut, 11k]

description — being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the sad version.

god, if you are above [smut, 1.8k]

description — technically part two of demonology and heartache (which I haven’t posted, yet). an au in which dean is a priest and the reader is a demon with an obsession to corrupt him.

the pros and cons of breathing masterlist [smut, ?]

description — dean gets his bloodlust under control and becomes a baker. then he meets you and there's a whole other lust that takes him over. were you his unmaking or purpose?

stone flower [fluff, 1.9k]

description — aka. part II of I believe in a thing called loved. quickly attempting to find out what’s wrong with his girlfriend, dean makes a dreadful (objectively funny) discovery about what’s actually going on

I believe in a thing called love [smut, 4.2k]

description — dean thinks you’re playing a game but he slowly realises you’re not.

right people, wrong place [smut, 3.3k]

description — aka. part II of and their name was treason. confrontations and unexpected turn of events. the truth and the consequences.

when broken is easily fixed [fluff, 2.7k]

description — priestly broke up with tish (yes!) uh, i mean… you watch him be pathetic and sad with his big wet green eyes and decide to do something about it.

taglist

main masterlist

dean winchester masterlist

beau arlen masterlist

soldier boy masterlist

jensen ackles masterlist

jake gray masterlist

boaz priestly masterlist

do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#jacklesversebingo23 #d #bingo card #bingo card masterlist #jacklesversebingo23 masterlist #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles x reader #jason teague x reader #boaz priestly x reader #tom hanniger x reader #soldier boy x reader #jack durphy x reader #beau arlen x reader

292 notes · View notes

enigmalynne · 5 months ago

Text

Blast from the Past - Jensen&Y/N

Title – Blast from the Past Pairings – Y/N and Jensen Word Count – 2,607 Warnings – sexual innuendos, making out, smut JAcklesverse Bingo Prompt – Speed Dating

Jensen is a divorced man, and it’s been a while. Jared had been trying to set his best friend up with who he believes is the perfect girl, only for things to fail for one reason or another, but there was no way Jensen was getting out of speed dating. It is a good thing Gen was able to convince Y/N the same thing, knowing that she was getting fed up with trying to meet this perfect guy only to be blown off repeatedly. When the two finally meet up and realize who each other is, they can’t wait to revisit a history not forgotten.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is not my first time writing smut, but it is my first time sharing it. Please be nice to me; I'm taking a big chance here.

“Well, if it isn’t Jensen Ackles,” Y/N said with a smirk as she sat beside the man. She set her beer before her, placed her elbows on the table, and rested her chin in her hands. Jensen’s face turned red as he recognized the woman before him.

“Well, if it isn’t Y/N Y/L/N,” he said quietly.

“Fifteen minutes, people. The timer starts now,” the speed dating event coordinator shouted as they set the timer once again.

“Aren’t you supposed to be home with a gorgeous red-headed wife and three little rugrats?” Y/N asked gently, keeping any accusation out of her voice. Jensen lowered his eyes and picked up his beer, taking a rather large sip to steady his nerves.

“That gorgeous redhead filed for divorce last year, and this is my weekend free from the kids,” he explained. “It’s a long story I don’t really feel like getting into.” Y/N’s eyes lit up a bit, but she kept her smile from showing her excitement.

“So, who dragged you to this event tonight?” Y/N asked, picking up her beer to take a sip.

“Jared.” Y/N laughed.

“That’s funny because Gen was the one who convinced me to come out and give speed dating a try,” she replied. “Methinks someone is trying to play matchmaker.”

“Would that be a bad thing?” Jensen asked, tilting his head to the side to study his long-lost friend.

“I should be asking you that. You’re the one who is getting back out there. I’ve been single for so long, and it’s become part of my personality,” Y/N said, causing the man in front of her to chuckle.

“Jared just wants to see me happy. Said he’s tired of seeing me mope around set every day,” Jensen muttered. This pulled a laugh out of Y/N.

“And speed dating was his answer to that?” she asked.

“I refused to let him set me up with anyone.”

“And why’s that?”

“I didn’t feel ready to return and date. Plus, I have the kids on the weekend, and it's hard to date around them.”

“That’s such an excuse,” Y/N said with a snicker. “Your mom would love to babysit, and you know it.”

“Yeah, she would,” Jensen agreed. “But what about you? How is a beautiful and talented woman like you still single?”

“Well, a friend of mine was trying to set me up, but the guy kept backing out,” Y/N said lightly, causing Jensen to blush again.

“Had I known it was with you, I wouldn’t have blown Jared off. It’s been years, Y/N,” Jensen said, leaning on the table. Y/N smiled brightly, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement. “Why did we break up again?”

“You were going to Vancouver for Supernatural. I was going to Australia for a movie. We didn’t want to do the long-distance thing. When I finally made it back to the States, you were dating Red, and I didn’t want to say anything,” Y/N explained, running her fingers along Jensen’s hand.

“Maybe you should have.”

“Maybe I should have. Imagine where we’d be today.”

“I still think about it, you know. Us.”

“I think about you every day, Jen.”

Just then, a buzzer went off, loud and annoying. It burst the little bubble the two had found themselves in. Jensen frowned as he looked over and saw everyone starting to move.

“You wanna get out of here?” Y/N asked, always the brave one.

“God, yes,” Jensen breathed. Y/N grinned and grabbed his hand as she stood.

“Hey!” the woman waiting to take her seat said indignantly.

“Look, that guy’s free. Go chat with him,” Y/N said, dragging Jensen with her.

“You two can’t just leave in the middle of Speed Dating! You have to stay for the entire event!” the coordinator shouted as the two darted for the door.

“How about instead of being pissed off, you be happy that your stupid event worked and two of your clients are running off together?” Jensen shouted back at him, causing Y/N to giggle. Once the two were outside in the muggy Texas night air, Jensen pressed Y/N against the still-warm brick wall. He threaded his hands into Y/N’s hair at her neck and looked into her eyes with a small smile.

“I might be a bit rusty,” he whispered, leaning close. Y/N spread her legs slightly so she could pull him against her hips more solidly.

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?” she whispered back, closing the distance and pressing her lips to his. The kiss was innocent until she ran her tongue against his lips, demanding entrance. Jensen took control and, with a slight moan, deepened the kiss. Their tongues tangled, fighting for dominance as they tasted each other for the first time in decades. When they separated, both of them were panting.

“What made you think you’d be bad at this?” Y/N breathed, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “You should feel how wet you just made me.” Jensen groaned loudly and rutted slightly against her.

“Don’t tease me. It’s been a long time,” he ground out.

“My place is two blocks away,” she said, pulling his earlobe between her teeth.

“Lead the way.”

Y/N fumbled with her keys slightly as she tried to open her door, distracted by how good Jensen’s hands felt at her hips. His hot body pressed against hers had a buzz going through her system that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. When she finally got the door unlocked and open, she turned around, fisted his shirt, and pulled him into a dirty kiss. Jensen leaned down and picked her up, wrapping her legs around his waist as he carried her into the apartment, kicking the door shut.

Jensen pressed Y/N up against the wall, pressing himself against her core so she could feel what she still did to him as he broke the kiss and dragged his lips down her neck to her collarbone. He left wet kisses there, his tongue dancing over her skin. Y/N threw her head back and moaned, her hips moving against him. The movement caused them both to shudder.

“Bedroom, now,” she breathed, her fingers gripping his hair. Jensen slowly let her slide down his body as he put her back on the ground.

“Lead the way,” he repeated his earlier words. She looked at him with a smirk, stripped off her shirt, her bra following close behind, and led him to the bedroom. He followed her with a smile.

Once inside the room, Y/N dropped her hands to the button on her jeans and flicked it open, but the hot body that pressed against her stilled her movements. She leaned her head back against Jensen’s shoulder as one of his hands reached up and gently squeezed one of her breasts, fingers pinching at her nipple. His other hand dipped into her waistband and her panties.

Jensen’s open mouth latched onto Y/N’s neck, and he trailed kisses down to her shoulder as he massaged her sensitive breast in his hand. His other hand stroked her gently, causing her breathing to catch as his fingers danced across her damp clit. When she pulled away and turned to face him, she watched as Jensen put his fingers into his mouth and tasted her.

“You still taste as delicious as I remember,” he muttered huskily. A sexy smirk played on Y/N’s face as she clutched the hem of his shirt and lifted it over his head, exposing hard abs and a chiseled chest. His Soldier Boy body was still intact, thanks to those workouts that became a regular part of his daily routine.

Y/N pulled him with her as she fell backward onto her bed, his weight pressing into her deliciously between her parted legs. Y/N felt her breath catch as he dipped his head down and took one taut nipple into his warm mouth. Y/N’s fingers found their way into his hair, her back arching into him. Jensen’s other hand found her exposed breast and played with the unattended nipple, his tongue darting over the other. A surprised moan escaped her as she felt his teeth bite the nub gently.

One of Jensen’s hands drifted down to her waist, pulled open the zipper of her jeans, and slid into her panties once again. Y/N’s hips bucked to meet his eager fingers, and she pulled Jensen’s mouth back up to hers. Their kiss was frantic, and when Jensen pulled away, their lips were red and puffy. His lips dragged overheated skin, licking and tasting the sweet saltiness there as he helped her remove her jeans, throwing them onto the floor.

Y/N sat herself up, her hands going to Jensen’s belt immediately. Jensen’s eyes were laser-focused on her tiny hands undoing his belt, then his jeans, pushing them down. Y/N licked her lips as she saw the bulge waiting for her there in his boxers. A wicked smile played on her lips as she looked up at him from her lashes, knowing what she would do next would make him feel so good.

Jensen lifted to help remove his jeans, then gasped as he felt Y/N’s hand wrap around his cock. She sat in front of him, one hand pumping him gently, the other pushing his boxers down his legs and out of the way. Feeling brazen, Y/N dipped her head down and licked the head of his cock. That caused Jensen to bark out her name. Y/N licked and played a little before taking his entire length into her mouth.

Bobbing her head, she rediscovered the rhythm she knew he liked without hesitation. Jensen placed a hand in her hair, gripping and guiding her gently over himself. Hearing Jensen’s heavy breathing and uncontrolled moans was enough to turn her on so much that she felt herself drip down her legs. Soon, she was squirming, trying to cause friction to relieve some of the pressure building inside her core. After a while, Jensen growled and pulled her away from his cock, crashing his mouth to hers in a brutal and dirty kiss.

“As much as I love coming in that filthy mouth of yours,” he ground out, sliding a hand over Y/N’s mound and sinking two fingers into her with no restriction. “It’s been too long since I felt this pussy wrapped tight around me… and it feels like it’s been a long time for you as well with how tight you are gripping my fingers.”

“God, Jensen,” she murmured against his lips as he gently pushed her back against the bed. Y/N kissed him with hunger as his fingers began to thrust inside her. Feeling how wet she was for him made him groan, causing her hips to buck towards him.

"I want you and your hot little body," he muttered to her, his tongue tracing her ear.

"God, Jensen, I want you inside of me," she muttered under her breath as she moaned. Jensen knelt between her legs and pulled on her panties. Y/N lifted her hips to help him take her thong off, and she cried out when she felt his tongue there tasting her seconds later. Jensen pressed his expert tongue against that hot little button time and again, his arms holding her hips still despite how hard she was thrashing.

"Oh, God, yes...You are going to make me cum," she whimpered...and then she did. Y/N arched and threw her head back as she came hard on his tongue, only to be gasping for a new reason as he slammed into her as she rode out her orgasm.

"Oh, my God, you are so tight," Jensen moaned, their sounds blending. He moved inside her slowly as she rode out her orgasm. Y/N stayed limp for a few seconds, whimpering and breathing heavily, then looked up at Jensen above her with lust in her hooded eyes.

"Fuck me," she said. Jensen's mouth curled into a dirty grin.

"Say it again," he said.

"Fuck. Me." Y/N said, pronouncing each word for him. Jensen wasted no time in complying with her request. He pulled out and slammed into her again, causing her to gasp and then moan loudly. Jensen set a steady pace, his weight going to his elbows as he held onto Y/N's face.

"Look at me," he grunted. Y/N opened her hazy eyes and watched his eyes as he pumped in and out of her. He watched as her eyes clouded over, and knowing that giving her pleasure was bringing him close as well.

“Oh, God, please don’t stop,” she cried, dragging her nails down his back. Jensen grabbed her knees and hiked them up over his hips to give him more room to move, to thrust deeper into her.

“You are so wet for me,” he muttered, feeling her tighten again. “Are you going to come again?”

“Ye…Yes…”

"Come with me," he moaned out. Y/N nodded her head.

"I will...I...am..." and then she did. The feeling of her pulsing around him was enough to push him over the edge as well, and he emptied himself into her in a roar of pleasure with her name on his lips. A few thrusts later, he collapsed on top of her, moving so that his weight was not on her. The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room. They took some time to catch their breath, but soon, Y/N was leaning over Jensen, pressing her mouth to his in a messy but passionate kiss. She dropped her head on his chest when they needed air, still panting.

Ten minutes later, Jensen stirred and carefully slid from under Y/N’s dozing form. She clutched at him, trying to keep him where he was.

“Don’t leave,” she said quietly, almost timidly. Now that the initial passion was sated and they both were thinking more clearly, she felt vulnerable. Was he going to leave?

“I’m not leaving,” he said, kissing her forehead before scooping her up. Y/N squealed slightly at being picked up, causing Jensen to grin. He carried her to her bathroom and set her down on the counter. He then reached over and started the shower. She watched a naked Jensen move around her home comfortably and smiled softly. Please don’t let this be a one-time thing.

“I don’t want it to be,” he said with his back turned, hand in the spray, checking the temperature. Y/N’s eyes widened.

“Did I say that out loud?” she asked. “Wait, you don’t want it to be? Does that mean you want to see me again?

“Yeah,” Jensen chuckled. “You said it out loud, and I want to see you again.”

“Really?”

“How about tomorrow we go on a real date? Our second first date?”

“I’d love that.”

“Great,” Jensen said, leaning down to kiss her. “But right now, I want you in that shower, pressed against those tiles, wrapped around me.” Jensen scooped Y/N up and pulled her legs around him again, forcing Y/N to wrap her arms around his neck. Jensen carried her over to the shower, pausing to let Y/N open and close the door behind them. The next thing that could be heard was the sound of wet skin on skin and the moans of two people rekindling a long-lost flame.

#jacklesversebingo24 #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural au #supernatural reader insert #spnfandom #spn fic #supernatural one shot #supernatural x reader

78 notes · View notes

pink-sparkly-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Spring in Fall

Summary: Jensen Ackles has spent his whole adult life in front of the camera, but now he wants something more. Something he’s not been able to find yet: an omega to settle down with. When Y/N Y/L/N arrived on the set of Supernatural, the alpha may just find all he’s ever wanted – his true mate.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Bingo Square: Scent Bond for @jacklesversebingo

Warnings: Omegaverse, A/B/O dynamics (no smut or anatomy talk), fluff, scenting.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This WIP has sat unfinished for over a year. When I got the ‘Scent Bond’ bingo square for Jacklesverse, I just knew this would be the perfect fill and found my fluffy bone long enough to get this finished! I hope you love this absolute floof 😘

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

Jensen was irritable. That much was obvious from the Goddamn moon. In fact, irritable was too polite a word for what he was. His ruts were no joke since he hit forty, knowing that his biology dictated he should’ve settled with a mate long before now. The problem was work always got in the way.

If it wasn’t sixteen hour filming days, it was every other weekend at conventions. If it wasn’t conventions, it was catching up on sleep; if it wasn’t sleep, it was an awards show, corporate event, or some other function he was obligated by contract to attend.

Jared had been lucky in finding his true mate on set, and Jensen always hoped the same fate might come to him, but so far, twelve seasons into the show, it hadn’t happened and his hope was starting to wain.

He couldn’t deny that he wanted what all his family and friends had. He was lonely—not that he liked to admit that out loud to many people. All that would achieve is a sudden string of blind dates that always ended in disaster.

The alarm on his phone went off with the reminder to buy a present for his nephew’s birthday, and when he registered the date, he frowned. Quickly, Jensen ran through the math in his head, and his frown deepened. He wasn’t due a rut for another week.

Then why was he so on edge?

“Mr. Ackles? They need you on set in five.” One of the PAs, Riley, he thinks, shouts through his trailer door.

“Alright, thanks,” Jensen calls back, trying to put it to the back of his mind for now. He had a job to do, and if Jensen was anything, he was a professional. He would never let personal issues bleed into his professional life.

Plus, they had a very important guest star for the next couple of months. Y/N Y/L/N had signed on for an eight-episode story arc, and everyone was excited. She was the most popular actress the network had ever had on their books. She was making waves in the acting world, and everyone knew it was only a matter of time before she moved to a bigger network or the big screen and began cashing in on prestigious award wins.

Not only that, but Jensen had a massive crush on the beautiful omega, and Dean would be having a really good time with her sassy, sexy character for the duration of her time here. He knew it was unlikely that she’d be his true mate, but maybe, if he played his cards right, she’d at least go on a date with him, and things might work out for them. Plenty of couples he knew weren’t true mates and life was great for them.

“Can you smell that?” Y/N asked no one in particular in the hair and makeup trailer.

“Smell what?” Jared asked from the hair chair.

“Leather, and…” she turned her head and sniffed again. “Sandalwood. Mmm, whiskey.” She felt her cheeks heat up and a tingle in her belly that wasn’t wholly unfamiliar to her; neither was the scent she was detecting. It smelled like home. “Spearmint, too?”

Jared smirked through the mirror at Frida, the hair lady, and Y/N caught the grin on the makeup lady, Tanya’s, face. “What?” she asked. Tanya just shook her head, her grin getting wider.

“Come on, Tanya! There’s something you’re not telling me! What is it?” she whined and pouted playfully.

“Jeez, don’t give me that look!” Tanya laughed. “Damn it! Or those eyes!” she stepped away, laughing harder, when Y/N pulled out the big guns. “You know, Jared, Y/N’s puppy eyes are better than yours!”

Jared laughed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like: “Jensen’s gonna be in so much trouble!” as he looked over at the confused omega, who was still subtly sniffing the air with an adorable frown on her face.

“Is it getting hotter in here?” Y/N suddenly exclaimed. “My God, it’s hot,” she fanned herself with her script, feeling the heat rise from her toes upwards as if she’d just sat in a tub filled with water that was too hot. “Can we open the door or something?”

“Sure, I got it,” Frida said as she left Jared in the hair chair and opened the door to the trailer. “Jensen!” she gasped as she opened the door and saw the green-eyed actor reaching for the handle. “You scared me!” she giggled and stepped back, allowing the tall alpha to enter the trailer.

As soon as Jensen stepped inside, he stopped short, his green eyes blown wide and pupils dilating at the sight of his famous crush sitting in what was usually his makeup chair. She looked beautiful with her big doe eyes as wide as his and her hands fidgeting in her lap.

“Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

Jensen stepped out of his trailer and took a deep breath of fresh air, frowning at the scent he caught on the wind. It smelled like home. Like The Dallas Arboretum and Botanical Garden in the springtime, to be exact. Cherry blossom, lilac and honeysuckle all mixed in with a hint of lavender, making his mouth water. But that was impossible. Except for the lavender, those flowers only appeared in the spring or early summer. It was October.

He didn’t think they’d have flowers on set for any reason, but he supposed that didn’t mean someone didn’t get sent a bouquet or something. The smell of lilac was unmistakable to him; his mom had a huge lilac bush in her backyard, and he’d grown up with it. He’d know that smell a mile off.

Shaking his head to rid himself of thoughts of home, he continued towards the set. He was really excited to work with Y/N, and he hoped she was as sweet and kind as he’d always heard she was. Nothing was worse than having professional respect for someone, meeting them, and finding their personality or attitude lacking.

Jensen spotted Rich across the lot and walked towards him to welcome him. The kind beta was directing again, and Jensen wanted to greet him properly and make sure he knew where to go if he needed anything. Not that Rich needed the reminder, but Jensen was nothing if he wasn’t a gentleman.

“Hey man, good to see you again,” Jensen said as he greeted Rich with a hug.

“Looking good, Jensen. How are you doing?” Rich asked.

“Ah, you know,” Jensen said simply. Rich was one of the few people who knew how desperate he was to find a mate, settle down and have a few pups of his own instead of always being the fun uncle.

“She’s out there, Jay. And I have a feeling she’s closer than you think!” he smirked.

“Ha!” Jensen scoffed. “You sound like Jared! He’s convinced Y/N’ll turn out to be my true mate!” he chuckled.

“Hey, I get why he thinks that! I remember all those nights in your trailer or apartment, and if you saw her on screen, you just froze and stared at her until she was off camera again!” Rich laughed heartily.

“Well, she’s incredibly beautiful. And I’m no worse with her than when you see Scarlett Johansson or Jared was with Nina Dobrev!” Jensen laughed.

“True, but your eyes glaze over, and you get this stupid smile, and…” Rich trailed off at his friend’s head tilt and look of sheer concentration.

“Can you smell that?” Jensen asked.

“Smell what?” Rich asked.

“It’s like a spring garden or something. I smelled it earlier and can’t get it out of–” Jensen whipped his head around and began stalking towards the hair and makeup trailer. Rich followed him, staying a safe distance behind the prowling alpha.

The alpha stopped in front of the trailer door and sniffed, purring low in his throat at finally finding its source. Just as he raised his hand to pull on the handle, the door whipped open, and his senses were assaulted with the most delicious and delicate scent he’d witnessed in his whole life.

Jensen stepped into the trailer, his gaze fixed on his celebrity crush, and felt the air being sucked from him as her Y/E/C eyes met his green ones, wide and submissive. “Omega,” Jensen purred, momentarily shocked at how pathetic he sounded. Certainly not like the big, strong alpha he wanted to be for her, that’s for sure.

“Alpha,” Y/N whimpered in response, bowing her head as a sign of her submission to him.

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Jared grinned, raising his hands at the older alpha, showing he was no threat to them. The two women showed the same respect to Y/N, raising their hands as they left the trailer.

“I think Jay just found his true mate!” Jared grinned, pulling Rich into a hug.

“He’s gonna absolutely hate that you were right. I hope you know that!” Rich smirked.

“Hell yeah! And I’m never gonna let him forget it!”

Rich chuckled as he pulled the walkie from his belt. “We got a code 143; I repeat, a code 143 is in progress. All filming is suspended until further notice. Ladies and gentlemen, Jensen Ackles has met his true mate in none other than Y/N Y/L/N. Over and out,” Rich spoke through the device and smiled, high-fiving Jared when they heard the cheers erupt from all over the lot.

“Alright, I’ll start with the phone calls. Have you got the numbers for Y/N’s family? I’ll let them know she’ll be off grid for a few days at least,” Jared asked Rich, who handed him a sheet of paper with her emergency contacts listed.

“I’ll get some betas to keep the parameter clear from here back to his trailer. The last thing we need is another alpha getting too close to Y/N. Or an omega to Jensen, for that matter. Then I better call the Network and let them know their golden boy and girl are officially off the market!” Rich chuckled.

“They’re gonna love that!” Jared laughed.

It’d been suggested to Jensen before by numerous executives that he and Y/N should meet and see if there was a spark, but Jensen was stubborn and said if they were meant to meet, it’d happen naturally. Apparently, so was Y/N. They’d heard a few times that it was the same response she gave them whenever they asked her about it.

Once the door was closed, Jensen stepped towards her and kneeled at her feet. “Do you want this, Y/N? Want me?” he asked shyly. Yes, they were true mates, but he had a few years on her, and she might not want to settle with an older man. She might not want to settle at all. Being in the prime of her career might mean she wasn’t ready to start a family yet.

“Yes, Jensen. I want this… want you, Alpha,” she purred, placing her hand on his cheek and smiling softly. The gasp of pained relief from the big, strong alpha broke her heart, and she wondered if he’d been let down as many times as she had in the past or if it was more.

“Can I… uh… can I scent you, Omega, please?” Jensen asked quietly, and Y/N giggled at his cuteness. She’d always hoped she’d have an alpha with a softer side, and it seemed like she got one.

“Yes, Alpha. I’m yours now,” she said softly.

“Not quite,” his fingers rubbed softly over her mating gland. “But I intend for you to be mine very soon,” he smiled softly before slowly leaning forward and nuzzling his nose into her neck. His hot breath against her sensitive skin made Y/N shiver, and her body erupted in goosebumps. The intimacy of the gesture was overwhelming, and she felt tears sting in her eyes.

Jensen whined as he got in closer and breathed her in. “You smell so good, Omega. And so beautiful,” he whispered to her, gently placing his hand on the back of her neck and pulling her closer still. Y/N tilted her head and rested her cheek on his shoulder, nuzzling her nose into his mating gland, her neck still open, and began to scent him in return.

Within seconds, an overwhelming sense of tranquillity and contentment at being exactly where he needed to be rushed over him, and he had no idea if it was coming from him, her or both of them. And it was the most elating feeling in the world.

“Sweetheart, I could sit her for hours and do this,” Jensen whispered, placing the softest of kisses on her neck between each word he spoke. “But I wanna take you somewhere more private if you’ll let me.”

“Okay,” Y/N answered, a whine escaping her throat as soon as he pulled away from her. Jensen chuckled at her pout, stood, held his hand out for her to take, and pulled her protectively into his side when she was on her feet.

“What hotel are you staying in?” Jensen asked.

“I’m not. I’m staying with a friend. Her apartment is just outside the city,” Y/N responded.

“My place is closer. Is that okay with you? I’d rather we have complete privacy, but if it would make you feel better, we can go to my trailer or the place you’re staying,” Jensen spoke softly.

“Let’s go to your place, Alpha,” she beamed brightly, chuckling when Jensen purred in approval of her answer.

Stepping out of the trailer, Jensen pulled Y/N into his body and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. The omega responded instantly, winding her arm around his waist and moving as close to him as their bodies allowed. The alpha smirked and puffed his chest with pride at hearing the wolf whistles from the crew, who’d gathered to wish the new couple well.

Jensen noticed his driver standing next to an SUV and headed straight towards him, determined to get them out of there as quickly as possible. He’d waited long enough for her and didn’t want to wait any longer.

Helping Y/N into the car, Jensen quickly moved to the other side and climbed in beside her. He’d barely sat down when the omega slid over to his side and cosied up to him, burying her nose in his neck and scenting him contentedly. He purred, happy to finally have his omega in his arms, scenting her hair, allowing her aroma to mingle and settle in with his own, binding them together in a bond that would become unbreakable the instant he claimed her, which Jensen had every intention of doing before the sun came up.

“Forever starts now, Omega. You ready for it?” Jensen murmured into Y/N’s hair.

“I’ve never been more ready, Alpha.”

Tags: @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567 @winchestergirl1720

#jacklesversebingo #spring in fall #omegaverse #alpha!jensen ackles x omega!female reader #alpha!jensen x omega!reader #jensen ackles fluff #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o universe #a/b/o

188 notes · View notes

winchester-girl67 · 1 year ago

Text

Jacklesverse Bingo 2023

A/N: This will be my @jacklesversebingo masterlist <3

#jacklesversebingo23 #jacklesverse bingo masterlist #dean winchester #beau arlen #soldier boy #boaz priestly

10 notes · View notes

dean-winchester-is-a-warrior · 1 year ago

Text

Love and Lying Pt. 1

This will fill the "How bad is it?" space on my @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be bolded.

Summary: Will Y/N and Jensen love each other or live in lies?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Angst - reader. Smut. Unprotected P in V sex. Fingering. Oral (f receiving). Jensen being kind of an asshole. Also being a hero, and a rockstar, and the sexiest mofo ever.

Pairings: Jensen Ackles x Y/N

Word Count: 6,230

A/N: So, this is kind of a joint request from the lovely @candy-coated-misery0731, and @envyaurora95. They saw this picture of Jensen...

(x)

...and after chatting about it, decided to very kindly ask if I could write something smutty for it. So, I have. 😊

This was supposed to be a one shot, but it will be a short two part series instead. Sorry! It got away from me, and ended up with much more plot than I was originally planning on. 😄 I'm hoping to have Part 2 up on the 23rd. The second part will also cover a square in the jacklesverse bingo - "Rumors". Hope this first part, at least, was what you were hoping for, my lovlies!

Also, the Radio Company song "Ain't No Telling" features in the story, and if you haven't listened to it, click here to do so. Definitely worth it!

A/N 2: As always, of course this is a Jensen from another part of the Multiverse, who is single. This is an absolute work of fiction.

The beautiful dividers, both below and at the bottom were created by @saradika

January

“Hey baby! I’m sorry, I know I said seven, but…” Y/N heard Jensen’s voice booming from the living room in the five star hotel suite they were staying in for the week.

He walked into the bedroom with his phone in his hand. He was looking down at the screen and frowning; his voice was distracted.

“I was gonna text you, and then I was - “ He looked up from his phone to see Y/N sitting on the end of the bed. His smile started and then stopped as his eyes snagged on the two packed suitcases at her feet.

The room was suddenly silent, the noisy, ceaseless traffic sounds muted by their distance from the street thirty stories below them. Jensen closed his phone and slipped it into his pocket. He gave a brief nod to the suitcases.

“You’re packed and leaving.” He said, stating the obvious.

Y/N folded her hands in her lap, trying desperately to keep them from shaking. But her voice wavered as she responded. “Yes. Look, I think…I think it’s time we admit this isn’t working.”

Jensen’s face registered surprise. “Oh.” He said quietly. “Oh, you’re…you’re LEAVING - leaving. Like, for good, forever.”

Y/N felt his soft words pierce her heart. “I think…” she tried to get the words out past the lump in her throat. “I mean, you can’t tell me you think what we’re doing here is…you have to admit that this isn’t working.”

Jensen shook his head, the surprise fading from his face. In its place came the stubborn set of his chin, and the mask of nonchalance he wore when he was avoiding something. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t do that.” Y/N said, frustration seeping in. “Don’t act like I’m crazy, like I’m making things up.”

Jensen folded his arms across his chest. “Well, I can’t just pretend like I get it.”

Y/N gritted her teeth, frustrated at having to "explain" what they both knew. "I’ve hit a wall with you, Jensen, that I simply can’t get past. Can’t go over it, can’t go around it or through it. Ever since we’ve been together…this whole last year - ever since we decided to take our friendship to the next level, you’ve been keeping me at arms length. You don’t discuss things with me, not your worries or your wants. We don’t make decisions together, you won’t bring me into your life. We were so much closer when we were friends.”

She took a deep breath. “So, I think maybe we should go back to that.” She felt her stomach lurch as she made the suggestion. “Go back to being friends, I mean. I think you were happier that way.”

Jensen scoffed “Oh, was I?”

Y/N shrugged. “Weren’t you? You seemed to be. You talked to me about stuff then, seemed to value my opinion. Now, you just keep everything bottled up inside you. You don’t tell me anything, don’t share anything with me.”

Y/N stood up and walked to where Jensen was standing, anger radiating off of him. She laid her hand on his forearm. “Jensen.” She said softly, looking up into his face. He wouldn’t meet her eye. “Jensen, I love you.”

His jaw clenched and ticked, and she felt the muscles under her hand tense. She waited a moment and although she’d known she wouldn’t hear the words back - even though that had been her point in telling him one more time - the silence that greeted her still lit a burning ache in her chest.

She stepped back, but Jensen shot his hand out to grab her wrist and keep her close. His voice was angry and exasperated. “Y/N look, do you want me to lie? Do you want me to just say the words and not have them mean anything?”

Y/N couldn’t help the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “No.” She whispered. “Of course I don’t. I want them to mean everything to you. I want you to feel the truth of them in your soul.” She shrugged and pulled her wrist out of his grasp, pretending her heart wasn’t splintering. “But that’s sort of the point - you don’t feel them, don’t mean them.”

She breathed deeply through her nose. “And that’s why I have to go. I love you but…”

“No, that’s the fucking point, Y/N.” Jensen raged as she bent to pick up her baggage. “You love me, ‘but’. That’s the whole problem. You’ll only love me on your terms, on your timetable. You love me, but you’re just gonna walk away because I won’t play along the way you want me to.”

Jensen was breathing hard, shouting now. “You can’t just force me into whoever you want me to be, can’t just mold me and -”

“Jensen.” Y/N cut him off with a soft, gentle voice. She stood with her bags in hand and shook her head at him, sadness overwhelming her. “Jensen, I’m not her. I’m not trying to mold you into something you’re not. I’m not trying to change you - don’t wanna change you. But…”

Y/N took in another long, wavering breath and finished her earlier thought. “I love you, but I won’t be in love alone.” She shrugged. “It’s too lonely.”

She reached up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, but he pulled away from her, and his eyes burned holes into her, the bright green was beautiful, but as hard as jade. “Just go then. Don’t bother with the platitudes. Dunno why you even bothered to stick around for good-bye.”

He spun on his heel and slammed out of the suite. Y/N couldn’t help dropping her bags to the ground and sinking back down onto the foot of the bed. Her stomach plummeted in disappointment once again, and as tears fell steadily down her cheeks, she was able to finally admit to herself that she’d been desperately hoping that he’d tell her to stay. It was probably stupid, but she’d hoped the threat of losing her for good would make him open up and let her in.

But it hadn’t. He wanted her gone. He’d much rather lose her than love her. For a wild moment she contemplated staying, trying to love enough for the both of them. But she knew that was impossible. She contemplated spending another year like the last, always doubting, feeling like she was so close to reaching him, just to have him pull away - just to watch him fall back into his charming ways, all smiles and quick jokes, and no real connection.

It was impossible, and it would only make it that much harder to leave later. So, she picked up her bags and said another silent goodbye to the man who’d hold her heart forever.

“Be happy.” She whispered to the ghosts she left behind.

April

The bar was crowded and noisy; twenty years ago it would have been smoky too. The people inside were slightly rowdy, and ready for a good show.

Y/N felt slightly overdressed in her little black dress. A few women wore something similar, but most women were just in short skirts and tube tops. The vast majority of guys were in t-shirts and jeans.

She sighed. Yep, overdressed.

She perked up slightly as she approached the table her friends were sitting at and saw Briana stand up to hug her, with Kim close behind. Kim wore a fancy top and sleek, shiny pants, and Briana’s dress was tight and black as well. They both looked gorgeous and Y/N was glad that at least she fit in a bit more with her own group.

They were all here to watch Louden Swain perform their set, and Y/N was very excited. She loved the band so much; they were all such sweethearts, and she always had so much fun hanging out with the group. It had been too long.

As she gave both Kim and Briana a hug she was smiling wide, a smile that died quickly as she glanced towards the door and saw Jensen striding towards them.

“What the fuck?” Y/N whispered.

Briana looked over her shoulder and then turned back to stare worriedly at Y/N. “He’s…I mean, he’s probably just here to support the band, you know.”

As Briana finished talking, Jensen walked up to where Rob was standing beside the stage and pulled the smaller man into a tight hug. The two spoke close together, straining to hear each other over the music blaring from the loudspeakers. Finally Jensen pounded his friend on the back and turned towards the table Rob pointed at, where all his other friends were sitting.

He froze as he saw Y/N watching him over Briana’s shoulder. There was a very long pause where no one moved or said anything. It was finally Briana who broke it. She pushed Y/N towards Kim who scooted her over to the other end of the long table they sat at, while Briana walked briskly up to Jensen.

She gave him a warm hug and said something into his ear. Y/N figured she was probably telling him the same thing she told her. They were here to support the band, and that was all. The table was big, and the bar was incredibly noisy.

There would be no need for them to interact.

But Y/N’s night was effectively ruined. She smiled at everyone and bopped along with the band as they performed. But her mind simply wasn’t there, it was ten feet down the table where Jensen sat between Rich and a blonde woman she didn’t recognize.

Y/N tried not to stare, but she couldn’t help but notice that the woman was beautiful…and that she kept touching Jensen. She laughed uproariously at everything he said, and she just kept putting her hands on him - touching his bicep to get his attention, or putting both her hands on his while she was laughing, her head bent towards his.

Jensen seemed to be enjoying the company. He was talking with her and smiling, and he did nothing to discourage the touching.

As the band finished one song and were switching around some guitars for the next, Y/N leaned over to Briana.

“Who’s the woman beside…Jason?” She asked, swapping out Jensen’s name with Jason’s at the last minute. But Briana saw through that anyway and gave her a sympathetic look.

“I think her name is Tara. From what I know, she’s an old friend of Jason’s. But I’m not sure how they know each other. He’s brought her to a couple get togethers.” Briana shrugged. “She seems nice enough.”

Y/N nodded. “Oh. Cool.” She said quietly just as the band struck up the next song. She hadn’t thought her evening could get worse, and yet it had. And the worst was yet to come.

At the end of the song, Rob held a hand out towards their table. “I wanna give a big thanks to my cheering section over here.” The band clapped and the rest of the bar joined in.

Rob’s smile was huge as he pointed a finger at Jensen. “Now, I need a little more help, onstage this time, and if we all cheer really loudly, we may just guilt my good friend, Mr. Jensen Ackles into joining us on stage!”

Rob finished with a yell as the bar exploded into cheers. Jensen was waving his hands and shaking his head, but the people around him were pushing him, quite literally to get up on the stage. Tara was pushing the hardest, shoving on his broad shoulder and then clapping excitedly when he got up.

Y/N felt her stomach twist in knots. This was too much.

Finally Jensen was cajoled, and physically forced onto the stage. He was smiling, but Y/N could tell he was nervous by the way he rubbed his hands together and then shoved them in his pockets. He bent slightly as Rob reached up to yell in his ear. Jensen seemed to think something over and then shrugged and nodded.

Rob walked back to the microphone and lifted his hand and everyone quieted down to hear him. “Okay, so we always drag Jensen onstage to sing a song the band knows well, but we’ve all been practicing, and we really wanna do a Radio Company song with Jensen this time.”

Everyone clapped and cheered some more as Rob called out. “I’ll do my best to impersonate Steve.” He said with a laugh. “Okay, one of the songs we know well, and is primarily Jensen singing, is the song, ‘Ain’t No Telling’. And the man himself has agreed to sing it for us!”

There was more applauding as Jensen moved into position behind the lead microphone, and Rob moved into position a bit behind him, adjusting the mic stand there so that he could sing harmony. Mike started playing the soft piano that began the ballad, and the bar quieted down, ready to listen to Jensen’s angelic voice.

Y/N, however, was panicking slightly, sure she'd never be able to take this. But I can't possibly get up and run out of here now. She thought desperately. It would be so obvious and make me look pathetic and weak.

So she tried to brace herself, but still felt chills run down her spine as Jensen’s slightly raspy vocals filled the room.

Oh, the fact is Cold but true love Ain't no tellin' Who I am One day sweetness Next day laughter Followed by the anger Coming up from within Who are you holding onto now? Who are you holding onto now? When you need it And you know that I'm a little far away Ain't no tellin' no Where the hell I am Just believe in Every time When we feel it again Tell me, who are you holding onto now? Oh, who are you holding onto now?

Though Jensen didn’t look her direction during the entire song, she still felt like he was singing every line straight to her.

He was so achingly beautiful, and so painfully, effortlessly sexy, it made Y/N's body thrum with want.

His hair had grown a bit longer in the four months since she'd seen him last, and it suited him very well. The honey and cinnamon colored waves fell forward over his forehead as he looked down at the stage, throwing shadows across his face. His eyes were closed, but even from ten feet away she could see the way his eyelashes brushed the tops of his cheeks. His soft, silky looking beard did a beautiful job of perfectly framing his luscious mouth. Y/N tried not to moan aloud as she remembered the perfect slide of those lips across her skin.

Everything about him - his voice, his eyes, his lips, his hands - even his rolled up sleeves that showed off his muscular, freckled forearms - it all made her ache terribly.

The song's lyrics made Y/N’s heart race fast, and crack into a million pieces at the same time. She looked towards Tara, who was staring raptly and adoringly at Jensen, and swallowed harshly, throwing the song's question back at him.

Who are you holding onto now?

As the song slowed to its conclusion and the bar went crazy, shouting and cheering, Y/N put a hand on Briana’s forearm and shot her a quick smile. “Be right back.” She said, nodding towards the restrooms in the back of the bar. She hated Briana’s look of pity and understanding. Y/N wanted to be nonchalant and cool about everything, but the wounds of Jensen’s absence were too fresh.

She stayed in the bathroom for nearly ten minutes just willing herself not to cry. She couldn’t go back out there with puffy eyes, on top of everything else.

When she felt slightly less prone to bursting into tears, she washed her hands, took a deep breath, and faked a smile.

The men and women’s washrooms were both down a long hallway, with the women’s at the very end. Just as she walked out, there was a guy walking out of the men’s room and wiping his hands on his jeans. He was medium height, with brown hair that was slicked back, and watery blue eyes that were slightly bloodshot. He wore jeans and a dark blue work shirt with a patch embroidered on the chest that said his name was “Bert.”

He noticed Y/N and he smiled a greasy smile, the kind of smile guys wore when they hit on her, and were sure they were irresistible. Y/N gave a wan kind of smile in return, and tried to walk past him, but he moved to block the narrow hallway.

“What’s your rush, cutie? Stay and chat awhile.” He said with another too-toothy smile.

Y/N’s smile faded and she shook her head at him. “Sorry. Not a big fan of chatting outside a bathroom.” She moved to the side again to show she wanted to walk around him, but he didn’t budge, and if she wanted to get past, she’d have to get physical - something she was desperately hoping to avoid.

But Bert didn’t seem to like her smart alec answer, and his eyes got colder by a degree. “Well, we don’t have to stay here, beautiful. Let me buy you a drink, and then,” he stepped closer to her and she gagged slightly at the cloud of body spray that surrounded him, “then let me take you back to my place, and show you the best night you ever had.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what direction to take - play along so maybe he’d move, and she could take off when they were out of the hallway, or just tell him to go fuck himself. If she played along she ran the risk of making him really pissed when she took off after, but she also ran the risk of pissing him off immediately if she just told him to get lost.

Rather spontaneously, she simply decided she had no patience left in her for this asshole.

“Absolutely not.” She told him firmly. “I have no interest in your offer. Now, please get out of my way and let me out of this hallway.”

As though she hadn’t even spoken, he moved closer, pushing her back a step. “You’re gonna love it baby, I promise.”

Y/N felt her stomach clench in fear and was just getting ready to stomp on his toes, or knee him in the nuts, or both, when she heard a familiar voice speak from behind Bert.

“Stop crowding the lady, asshole, and let her pass.”

Y/N felt relief flow through her as she looked down the hallway and saw Jensen standing just inside the entrance.

Bert looked over his shoulder and lifted his chin in a dismissive gesture towards Jensen. “Nobody’s talkin’ to you, jackass. Just keep movin’.”

Jensen shook his head even though Bert was back to ogling Y/N, and wasn’t looking. “That’s not gonna happen. I’m only gonna warn you once.” He walked down the hall towards them. “Give it up, walk away, and your nose can stay unbroken.” Jensen issued the warning in a conversational tone.

Finally Bert turned around to face him properly. Jensen’s size seemed to make him hesitate for a moment. Jensen had a good three or four inches on him, as well as about thirty pounds of muscle. But Bert's bravado and ego got the better of him.

“Bring it on, fucker, I’ve dealt with guys like you before. Think you’re Mr. Hotshot, but your nothin’ special. I could take you in my sleep.”

Jensen stared at him, two dimples showing up just above his top lip as he scowled, annoyance etched into his features as though Bert was a particularly bothersome fly he couldn’t swat. He shook his head and reached past him, holding his hand out for Y/N to take. “Come on, sweetheart.”

Y/N reached for him instantly, but Bert made the very huge mistake of slapping her hand away from Jensen’s. Y/N gasped, more from shock than pain, but she was looking at Jensen and saw his expression turn from annoyed to enraged. In the blink of an eye, his right fist came up to slam into Bert's face; a sickening crack sounded as his nose shattered and he fell to the floor.

Jensen reached over Bert’s prone figure and offered his hand to Y/N once again. She took it and he helped her step over the loudly moaning man. They walked away and were just barely out of the hallway, when they heard Bert rising up and bellowing in fury. They turned around in time to see Bert whipping down the hallway towards where they were now standing in the back part of the bar.

Jensen had just enough time to push Y/N out of the way before Bert was tackling him into an empty table and chairs. The two men crashed through it, splintering the wood and falling into the debris. Bert got in one good punch before Jensen rolled him over and began pummeling his face and body. Half a dozen punches later, the bouncers showed up to pull them apart.

There was a lot of confusion and yelling, and Y/N just stood with her hands over her mouth, stunned speechless. Soon, all their friends were in the back with them trying to make sense of what had happened. Thankfully, they sorted it out pretty quickly. One of the bartenders had seen Bert tackle Jensen, so the smaller man was just tossed out of the bar with a warning not to come back, or police would be involved.

Eventually their friends began to filter back to the table, and the staff back to their jobs. But Tara stayed, cooing over Jensen’s purpling cheek and split bottom lip, coaxing him to come back to her hotel room so she could fix him up.

Y/N felt her stomach turn and her exhausted brain decided that she’d taken all she possibly could for one evening. She smiled at Jensen as he stood beside Tara while she ran her hands over his knuckles and tutted at their scrapes.

“Thank you.” She said simply. Her extreme gratitude for his rescue couldn’t really be summed up with two simple words, but that was all she could get out without bursting into tears.

“Course.” Jensen said stiffly. He looked like he had more to say, but Y/N just smiled again and ducked past them quickly, admitting to herself that she was definitely running away.

***

Hours later, Y/N was sitting slumped on her couch, still dressed in her little black dress, heels kicked off under her coffee table, and an almost empty glass of wine in her hand. It was her second one, and she was just beginning to feel the pleasant fuzziness at the edges of her consciousness, when she heard a sharp knock at her door.

Looking at her phone, she saw it was past one in the morning, and no one had texted her to say they were coming over. She sat up, but didn't move to the door until the knock came again.

She snuck up to the door quietly and peered out of the peephole. She let out a fairly loud squeal of surprise when she saw Jensen on the other side. She saw him look up at the door and knew he'd heard her. With no other choice if she wanted to try and maintain her “just fine” facade when it came to him, she turned the deadbolt and opened the door.

There was a full ten seconds of awkward silence as they stood just staring at each other. It may have only been seconds but it felt endless. Finally Y/N broke it.

“Hey.”

Jensen nodded and gave a fleeting smile. “Hey.”

Another awkward silence.

Then Jensen shook his head. “Sorry, I just…uh…you left pretty fast, and…and I just wanted to make sure you were good. You know, from the…just with everything.”

Y/N smiled back, her smile equally brief and unnatural. “Yeah, oh yeah.” She waved dismissively. “Yeah, he was mostly just a douche, you know.”

Jensen nodded, and a beat passed before Y/N frowned and asked, “How about you?” She pointed at his split lip and bruised cheek. “How bad is it?”

He lightly brushed his forefinger against his lip, rubbing the cut there, and then shrugged. “Yeah, it’s nothing. Guy punched like a…well, like a douchebag, I guess.” He smiled again and it was slightly closer to his real smile.

Y/N nodded and was desperately trying to figure out her next move when Jensen pointed around her into her apartment. “Uh, do you mind…can I…?”

Y/N panicked slightly at the idea of letting Jensen in, but she moved back and ushered him inside “Yeah, sure.” He closed the door behind him, and now they stood awkwardly inside her apartment instead of outside. Desperate to break the torturous silence, Y/N pointed toward her kitchen.

“Can I get you a drink, or something?”

But Jensen just shook his head. “N’ah, I’m good.”

So Y/N’s escape plan into the kitchen was thwarted. After a moment Jensen waved his hand around to indicate her apartment. “This is…new…nice.”

Y/N nodded, starting to feel like a bobblehead doll. “Yeah, I like it.” She frowned as a thought occurred to her. “How did you know where to find me?”

Jensen looked slightly guilty. “I bugged Briana til she told me.”

“Ah.” Y/N said. “That would do it.”

A spasm of a smile crossed Jensen’s face and then he opened his mouth and started to say something, but then quickly closed it. He looked a little wildly around the room as though he might find the words he sought, written on the walls.

Finally, he exhaled loudly and spun around towards the door. “K, well, I’m glad you’re good.” He said with another careless smile thrown back over his shoulder. “See ya.”

And just like that, he was gone again.

Y/N stood in the middle of her living room, completely at sea. “What the hell was that?” She whispered out loud to herself.

She stood in the same spot for almost five minutes trying to puzzle it out, before another sharp, loud knock came to the door. Without looking through the peephole this time, she just pulled the door open and wasn’t the least surprised this time to see Jensen standing on the other side.

Bewildered, yes. Surprised, no.

“Jensen,” she said with a confused shake of her head, “what on earth ar-”

She gasped as he cut her off by grabbing the back of her head in his big hand and pulling her into his embrace. His mouth crashed down on hers, the kiss desperate and slightly brutal. Y/N moaned deeply as he thrust his tongue past her lips to ravage her mouth, moving his two hands so that they gripped her cheeks and held her in place as he pillaged her tongue, sucking it into his mouth, and licking deeply into hers.

He shifted his lips on hers, and Y/N took the moment to try and come to her senses. She pushed at his forearms and wrenched her head away from him.

“What…” Her voice was completely breathless and high-pitched. She tried to lower it. “What the hell are you doing?”

She tried to step away from him, but he grabbed hold of her upper arms and held her there. “Please, Y/N, I just…fuck I miss you.”

Y/N shivered at the dark desire in his mossy green eyes and deep, rough voice, but she shook her head. “Jensen…we can’t just…” She floundered for words, trying desperately to remain sensible. This was madness!

“I know.” Jensen said, dropping his forehead to hers. “I know, and I know I’m an asshole for coming here, but…”

Y/N could see, close up, his jaw clenching and the muscle twitching there, and it made her lower belly clench.

“But,” Jensen continued, “when I saw you there tonight, in this sexy little black dress…jesus fuck.” He moved his hands from her arms to grip her waist, bunching up the soft, clingy material of her dress in his big fists. “All I wanted to do was rip it off you.”

Y/N was breathing heavily, as though she’d run a mile. A whine entered her voice, as she tried to plead with herself more than him. “We can’t do this…it’s not…” His lips just grazed hers, and his soft, minty breath drifted across them.

“Tell me to go.” He whispered roughly. “Say the word - I’ll go.”

They stayed frozen together like that for quite a few rapid heartbeats before Y/N finally shook her head, conceding defeat, and acknowledging she never had any hope of victory.

“No. Don’t.” She bit her lip and then looked deeply into his eyes for the first time in a long time. “Don’t go.”

Jensen slammed the door shut with his foot, and only then did Y/N realize it was still open. Jensen had been her only focus since he’d charged through it. He grabbed her head in his hands again and kissed her deeply, still rough and desperate. He walked her backwards until they hit her bookshelves, knocking down a few paperbacks.

Jensen pulled away from her mouth only to dip his head beneath her jaw. He nibbled at the extremely soft skin there, before running his tongue down her neck and across her shoulder, pulling the straps of her dress out of his way so he could bare her shoulder and suck bruises and leave teeth marks across her skin.

Y/N desperately shoved his black button up off of his shoulders and yanked his t-shirt over his head. Her hands were trembling, and it felt as though her entire body was shaking in anticipation. When she finally got her hands on his bare skin, she rubbed them down over his ribcage, and then up under his arms and around to his back. She dug her nails into the taut muscles there and Jensen growled out a moan.

Suddenly he pulled back from her and spun her around. She grabbed hold of the shelves in front of her as she felt Jensen’s hands grip the top of her dress. Without even attempting the zipper, he ripped it apart with a grunt, tearing the dress in half.

Y/N wanted to protest him ruining her dress, but she lost all coherent thought as he reached over her shoulder and shoved his hand down the front of her dress. His nimble fingers freed the front clasp of her bra quickly, and he wrapped his massive hand around her breast, squeezing her almost too hard. He rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and the puckered bud began to ache for more.

His mouth didn’t leave her body as he pressed her against the shelves. He trailed his lips down her neck and then down her back, pushing the two sides of her dress off of her completely. He pulled her bra off too, and tossed it aside. Left in only her black, silky thong, she heard Jensen moan deeply and then felt him step back from her slightly.

When she looked over her shoulder, she felt her slick begin to drip down her thighs at the look of ravenous need on Jensen’s face. She could see the way he bulged out his black jeans and she couldn’t restrain a whimper.

She turned towards him and then fell to her knees. She reached for his zipper, but Jensen grabbed her hands.

“No baby, I can’t. You touch me right now and I’m gonna explode.” He pulled her back to standing and then grabbed the backs of her thighs, lifting her so she could wrap her legs around his hips. “And I need to fuck you, need to sink so deep into you.”

He spoke deliciously into her ear as he carried her down her only hallway towards what he must have correctly assumed was her bedroom. He kissed her as he carried her to the bed. Then he leaned down to place her gently on the mattress. She let go of him long enough for him to shuck his jeans and underwear, her mouth watering at the delicious sight of his leaking, red-tipped cock.

Fuck he was beautiful.

He crawled onto the bed and then between her legs. She tried to wrap her legs around him again, but he easily pushed them open. He stared down at her pussy and his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Missed this pretty little pussy so much.” Jensen said as he laid his palm over her mound, fingers pointing towards her belly button, and then dipped his wide thumb into her folds to find her clit. The rough pad of his thumb circled it and soon had Y/N writhing, her hips bucking. Then he twisted his hand so that his thumb kept swirling around the hard little nub, but now his fingers could slide through her slick and then thrust deep and hard into her quivering body.

Y/N screamed as he pressed against her g-spot making her come instantly. Her body shook as he continued to fuck her slowly with his fingers before sinking onto his stomach and letting his tongue take over. He flicked it back and forth against her and made her nearly convulse with pleasure. She came again, on his tongue, gripping his long hair, and using it to keep his mouth pressed against her.

But he had no intention of moving any time soon, and kept her coming over and over. “Missed those sounds.” He said as Y/N shuddered and groaned and whimpered. “Say my name, darlin', I missed that too.”

Y/N grunted and then groaned as he slammed his three fingers into her particularly deep. “Fuck Jensen, oh fuck! Yes!”

He smiled against her dripping pussy and pressed his fingers against her g-spot again, ripping another blistering orgasm out of her. “Perfect.” He praised.

Her throat was raw from crying out her pleasure before Jensen finally moved up her body to lay over top of her. He pushed her messy hair away from her forehead and kissed her, featherlight, across her cheeks. He smiled softly at her now, as she looked up at him, her expression thoroughly blissed out and her eyes hazy.

“Missed your face like this. So beautiful, so completely open.” After a moment of watching Jensen watch her, Y/N’s mind cleared enough to register that his brow was crinkled in what looked like worry or fear. But before she could wonder about it for too long, he leaned down to press his lips ever so gently against hers.

As he kissed her, he easily slid his thick cock into her body. She clenched around him and he buried his face in her neck as he spoke, muffled, against her skin.

“And ungh, fuck! I missed this feeling. So tight and warm, so…so fucking perfect. Like…” He pulled out and slid back into her, moving incredibly slowly, savoring every inch. “Feels like - ungh!”

He growled as her cunt squeezed around him again, and he lost all ability to speak, becoming wild and a little brutal as he rutted into her, ramming harshly into her tight, wet, heat over and over, until he was lifting her of the bed with every thrust and Y/N was screaming and clawing his back, shoving her heels into his ass, pushing him deeper still. Finally, he exploded with a shout through gritted teeth, and as she climaxed one more time, she felt the familiar, warm feeling of his cum shooting deep inside her and filling her up.

They laid together, panting, for a long time. Everything felt surreal as Y/N began to float back to earth. It felt like she was in a very vivid dream. Eventually, Jensen rolled off of her and she moved onto her side so she could look at him. She opened her mouth to say something, to try and make sense of what had just happened between them, but Jensen put a finger to her lips and shook his head.

“Please, baby,” he said, exhaustion lacing his voice, “tomorrow, okay?”

He opened his arms, inviting Y/N to move into his embrace, and she did. She snuggled against him and pushed the questions out of her mind. Tomorrow would be soon enough to tackle some answers.

Yeah, tomorrow, she thought as she drifted off.

But when she woke in the morning, Jensen was gone.

No note, no text, no explanation. If it wasn’t for the bruises and bites he’d left on her skin, she might have thought he was just a dream in the night, just a figment of her imagination. But he'd been there, and now he was just gone, taking all of her answers and another slice of her heart along with him.

Part 2

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla

#jensen ackles rpf #request fic #jacklesversebingo23 #jensen x reader #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles angst

217 notes · View notes

jacklesversebingo · 4 months ago

Text

Sign-up Form ~ Round Two

Photos: Resources

The JAcklesverse Bingo Round Two sign-ups are officially open!

If you're a fan of Jensen Ackles, consider following the blog or participating in the Bingo.

The Bingo is open to all creatives.

Sign-up Here

Cards will begin to be sent on September 20. When you receive your card, you will receive the link to the Discord server. Sample cards can be seen here.

✨✨Be sure to read the Guidelines/Rules and the FAQs before signing up. ✨✨

A Discord account is required to participate in the bingo.

I can’t wait to see what you create!

Round Two Schedule

Sign-up opens on August 15, 2024, and will close on November 15, 2024

Cards will begin to be sent on September 20

The All About Ackles bingo card for followers will be posted on November 15

Round Two of the Bingo starts October 1, 2024, and ends September 1, 2025

Master Lists are due by September 15, 2025

The hashtag for Round Two is #jacklesversebingo24

If you have bingo-related questions, send me an ASK or DM me.

#jacklesversebingo24 #sign-ups open #round two #jensen ackles #dean winchester #soldier boy #beau arlen #russell shaw #and more!

36 notes · View notes

supernotnatural2005 · 1 month ago

Text

JACKLESVERSE BINGO 2024 Masterlist

I'm so excited for this one!

I've been looking for a challenge and a spark to help expand my mind in story writing and @jacklesversebingo felt perfect for just that.

(AN: Fics containing adult/smut themes will be marked as such **. 18+ ONLY)

Main Masterlist

The Meet Cute

Summary: 99% of the time drinking leads to nothing but bad decisions and regret in the morning. But, what about the other 1% of the time?

Prompt: Hugged the wrong person from behind

'Giddy up Cowboy' (Drabble)

Summary: The power of impression.

Prompt: Character B tries to impress character A

I Cross My Heart

Summary: A quiet night in with your favourite Sheriff

Prompt: Cowboy Hat - Music CD - Plush Octopus

More TBA...

9 notes · View notes

zepskies · 12 days ago

Text

Against the Wind - Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon world. It also fulfills a bingo square for @jacklesversebingo!

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 5.5K

Tags/Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, hints of angst, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 1: In His Hands

Your body is mostly numb when he pulls you out of the snow.

You utter a sharp cry when something in your side twinges, waking up your entire body like a white-hot shiv. Your ankle begins to throb as well.

“Hold on. I’ve got you.”

You only half hear the voice, a deep, coarse rumble. His form is broad and dark and blurry, but his male scent is the only thing you register with perfect clarity.

Alpha.

A small treble of alarm runs through you. It’s an instinct you’ve had to learn, as an omega traveling alone in rural Montana. However, something else disrupts that anxiety.

It’s his scent. His scent is like the crackle and smoke of a warm hearth.

Safe. Your body is heavy and stiff and doesn’t respond to your commands, and yet, you feel a measure of calm when he maneuvers you into his arms. It’s a baser instinct, rooted deep in your chest. He begins to carry you down the slope of the mountain, and your vision blurs white…

Like the flurry of snow falling heavy on his jacket.

You wake up freezing and shivering in pain. A sensation of small sharp needles begins to travel all across your skin. Slowly, as you're able to blink, your view of the dark wood cabin clears and focuses. You realize that you’re bundled in blankets, and laying on a chaise in front of a large fireplace. Still, you’re too cold. A keening whimper escapes you as you try to burrow in.

Alpha. Your body instinctively recognizes his presence, as he’s suddenly there, hovering close above you with a divot between his brows and a frown marring his face, where thick stubble threatens to become a beard. Stern, dark brows are furrowed over his concerned eyes. His plush frown is framed by a stubborn-looking chin. Your gaze wearily travels over his handsome features, his short brown hair, the flickers of firelight that splash across the side of his face.

He places a warm, calloused hand on your forehead, and he mutters a curse. Your body trembles further with cold. You part your lips, but you can't yet force your voice to escape them.

Again, he quite literally takes the problem into his own hands. He peels away the thick blankets just to slide himself in behind you. His arms wrap around your waist, and you feel their tempered strength when they cage you in against him. You manage to turn your head and rest your cheek against his chest, covered by red plaid. Thank you...

Almost on reflex, you breathe in his scent deeply. The earthiness of it calms you, warms you from the inside. Your shivering eventually calms and turns to purring in your chest.

“What’s your name, Omega?” he asks. His voice is deep and gruff, and it threatens to make you shiver for a different reason as the timbre of it washes over you.

It’s difficult, but you manage to speak, clearing past your parched throat to give him your name. He nods, as if rolling the sound of it back and forth across his mind.

“Was somebody out there with you?” he asks.

You shake your head, even though the thought elicits a painful twinge in your heart.

“Who…” you try to speak again, even though it hurts a little. “Who are you?”

You feel him take a deep breath. He hesitates, like he’s reluctant to give it to you.

“Dean,” he says.

You roll the name around in your head, over and over. Dean, Dean, Dean…

You smile slightly. “Yeah, makes sense.”

“What?” he says. You hear the raised brow in his tone.

“You sound like a Dean,” you say, perhaps a little delirious.

Anyway, that’s when your eyes close on you again. You fall back into the warm lull of sleep, to the sound of a crackling fire, and a feeling that permeates throughout your body.

Safe.

Can’t fucking believe this, Dean thinks, as he holds you. Just when he thought his life was done throwing him curveballs.

He tips his head back against the sofa cushion with a tired exhale. It would just be his luck to find a stray omega wandering his stretch of Big Sky. Montana can be gnarly in the winter, but for the past couple of years, Dean has learned to survive here in this rental cabin for a couple of months at a time, when wandering an empty bunker gets to be too much. At least here the quiet’s peaceful, if still a little unnerving sometimes.

He glances down at you. Now that you’re warm and sleeping again, he should find something to wrap your ankle and ice it down. It’s swollen, and he wants to take an inventory of your other injuries, so he can determine how to get you back down the mountain and through the woods, back to civilization.

The sooner he gets you medical attention and back to your life, the sooner he can get back to his—even though the thought of leaving you in anyone else’s hands almost stirs a growl in his throat.

And that last part unnerves him, makes him anxious. He begins to untangle himself from you, but his movements falter when your sweet scent filters through his nose again. Cinnamon apples, with a hint of something floral.

Fuck me.

It’s almost too sweet to be true, but Dean does his best to ignore it…and what that alluring sweetness probably means.

Dean leaves you in the morning to revisit the site where you fell. He digs through the snow and manages to find your backpack, filled with your clothes, supplies, and your phone and wallet. He returns just in time.

The falling snow becomes even more intense, until it becomes a quiet roar outside. You watch the snowstorm through the impact windows in the kitchen, and you know what this means. You’re snowed in with a stranger—an alpha, no less.

You also have a bum ankle, which he wrapped for you. Doesn’t feel broken, he’d said, but it could be fractured, or at the very least sprained. You also likely have a couple of cracked ribs.

“What were you doing out there, anyway?” he asks, while pouring himself a glass of whiskey. “This ain’t exactly hiking season.”

While you drink some hot chocolate he made you with a bit of whiskey splashed in (for extra warmth), you explain.

“Well, I guess it wasn’t my best idea in hindsight,” you say with a weak chuckle. “I was trying to find my way back, and I…well, I was a bit lost.”

He raises his brows wryly, still sipping.

“And to make a great situation even better, I thought I heard a wolf howl nearby,” you say. “I know most of them would rather run from us than attack us, but you can’t be sure, you know? I had my rifle on me, so I was turning around, trying to pinpoint what direction it was in…and of course, my foot slipped on something.”

You fell down that hill. You think you even hit a tree on the way down, which would explain your ribs. Everything gets a bit swirly, cold, and dark in your memory after that.

Dean shakes his head. “Gotta say, going out there alone wasn’t a great idea either, especially now. This time of year, there’s no telling when a blizzard like this is going to come through.”

He waves haphazardly toward the storm raging outside. Your gaze falls to the mug in your hands. You don’t really want to talk about your reasons for taking that risk, but maybe giving him a little honesty will get him off your back.

“My dad and I used to hike up here every year,” you confess. “A few months ago…I lost him. So I guess this was just something I needed to do.”

You blow on your hot chocolate before you take another sip. This time when you glance up, Dean’s judgy expression has evened out into something more sympathetic. He lowers his glass.

“Well, hate to break it to you, but there’s no cell service up here,” he says.

You give a humorless huff. “Believe me, I know.”

“Which means no one can come up here and get you,” he continues, “and even when this storm breaks, I can’t carry you all the way down the mountain back to civilization. Not with the snow as deep as it’s gonna get. Now…maybe I can go down by myself and bring help back with me.”

“But another storm could snow me in,” you realize, with growing apprehension at the thought.

Dean nods. “It’s either I take that chance, leave you by yourself. Or we wait for you to heal up.”

He leaves the choice up to you with a gesture of his hand, the one still wrapped around his glass. You weigh those options with a tilt of your head. On one hand, you don't want to impose on him longer than you had to, but on the other, you really don't want to be left alone in this cabin for God knows how long while he scales the mountain by himself, for your sake.

“I think it would be better if we go down together, right? It can be dangerous, even when the storm breaks,” you reply.

Dean nods slowly, like that was what he was going to suggest too. “All right. Well, until you’ve got two working legs, you’re stuck here with me.”

“I figured as much,” you say. Your head tilts as you consider him. He has a gruff exterior, but all his actions so far have been kind, and far more than you’d expect from a stranger. And an alpha at that.

Not to say that all alpha's are assholes, but you've had far too many experiences with the stereotype: arrogant, entitled, and handsy. Can't forget handsy.

“Thank you for saving me,” you say, meeting his gaze, “and for…well, being a decent guy.”

Dean’s lips twitch. He nearly chuckles. Instead, he sits back on his side of the couch.

“Yeah, well, there’s a spare room in this place for you, one bathroom. The kitchen is stocked. I’m a half-decent cook, if I say so myself, but help yourself.”

He gets up from the couch without preamble, to go to his room, you assume. It leaves you feeling at a loss, like he’s trying to get away from you. You know you’re a guest in his space, so you try to respect the way he wants to be alone for a while. He definitely gives off loner vibes.

You look around and find a collection of vinyl records, and smaller collection of books on a shelf next to the fireplace. You find Gulliver’s Travels, Dune, The Odyssey, The Wizard of Oz—books you didn’t think a guy like Dean would be into.

You take up The Wizard of Oz, reclaim your spot on the chaise, and start reading.

That night, your dreams are plagued by the crunch of dead leaves, your father shouting at you to run, and to keep running.

The coarse roar of a bear morphs into something other. It’s a sharper, whirring sound like wind howling amidst animalistic clicking, and then bones breaking—your father’s scream cut short.

You wake with a start, your body both cold and flush at the same time.

Dean is there once again. It confuses you at first, but then it all returns to you in a rush—the where and the why you’re here, once again with the alpha standing over you in concern. He grasps your shoulder and asks if you’re all right. Your breathing is too erratic for you to answer him, your eyes too wide, your body trembling.

Had you been making noise in your sleep? You blush in embarrassment at the thought. You also feel bad for waking him, and all those things get trapped in your throat.

Seeing that you’re most definitely not fine, he sits on the edge of the bed, squeezes your arm, and reminds you.

“It’s okay. You’re safe here,” he tells you. His tone is deep and even, reassuring.

You meet his steady gaze and manage to nod, trying to catch your breath.

“I’m okay,” you say, with a shaky nod. He gives you a measuring look, both a question and a confirmation. You give it to him with a firmer nod. “Thanks, I…I’m sorry I woke you up.”

He exhales through his nose, accepting. “‘S all right. Don’t worry about it.”

You feel the loss of his touch when his hand eventually slip away from your shoulder. As soon as he came into your room, he’s gone.

Dean leaves swiftly, trying to brush off how the scent of your fear had tugged sharply at his gut even in his sleep. It not only woke him up, but compelled him to kick his blankets off and get out of bed to go to you.

You were having a nightmare, reliving your fall, if he had to guess. You came out of it pretty quick when he carefully grabbed your shoulder. Every instinct in his body told him to gather you into his arms and cover you with his own scent and protective embrace to calm you down.

Through sheer willpower, he managed to ignore every single one of those instincts.

Two days pass, in which you and Dean say very little to one another, besides when he asks you what you want to eat, and how you’re feeling. The alpha seems genuine, but guarded any time you ask him about him; anything that’ll give you a clue into who this guy is, and why he’s here.

You try again to strike up some kind of conversation over dinner one night.

“Do you live here year-round?” you ask, around a mouthful of burger that’s absolutely delicious. He wasn’t lying when he claimed to be a good cook. He even made the fries himself.

“No,” he replies. “No Netflix, no internet? Think I’d die of boredom. I just come up here to uh…take a beat, I guess.”

You smile. “I don’t blame you. Sometimes you just need a break,” you say, even though your tone is heavier than you meant it to be. Your gaze, a bit distant in that moment, sharpens and focuses back on Dean. “Where are you from, then?”

“Kansas,” he offers.

“Oh really?” You brighten with that scrap of information. “My older sister lives in Topeka. She moved there for a job, initially, but then she met her guy. He’s some kind of day trader. Which is just code for sits on his ass playing Call of Duty while she busts hers.”

Dean huffs, then crams more burger into his mouth. He hasn’t been giving you a lot to go on while you two have been talking. Unfortunately, you have the tendency to ramble and fill the silence before it becomes even more stifled.

“She works at a bank. Smart, driven, always knows what she wants. Meanwhile, I’ve had about seven jobs in the last three years, none of which were even remotely related to my almost useless degree in Communications.”

“Yeah, doubt you need a degree in communicating,” Dean remarks, popping another fry into his mouth.

You purse your lips at him, but the glint of teasing in his eyes makes you fight not to smile.

“All right, smart guy. So, what about you?” you ask.

Predictably, the man’s walls firm back up. “What about me?”

“Well…why’re you up here alone? Do you have family?” you ask.

Dean quirks a half smile. “I’ve got a brother.”

“Okay. Younger, I’m guessing?”

He tilts his head at you, a bit amused at your guess. “Why’s that?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I can’t imagine you with a brother who’s older than you.”

His lips twitch. “You callin’ me old, sweetheart?”

You begin to blush with embarrassment. But also, sweetheart?

You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I meant. I just mean like…”

Dean saves you with the return of his smile.

“Yeah, he’s younger,” he says. “But he’s the one with the quasi-wife and the apple pie life.”

“Quasi-wife?”

“They’re mated. Just haven’t gotten around to the whole getting hitched thing,” he explains. “But they’re happy. Dean Jr.’s growing up fast, already running full speed into glass doors.”

His smile is genuine when he talks about his brother, just tinged with a bit of melancholy, you think.

“Dean Jr.?” you ask in amusement. Dean Sr. laughs a little, and you enjoy the sound, the way it lightens up his face and pulls at the corners of his eyes.

“Yeah, can’t say I wasn’t surprised myself to get that honor, but…hey, it works for the kid. He’s got my chin,” he remarks.

He digs into his pocket to show you a picture from his cell phone. Even though it doesn’t have service, you can still view the many pictures of the adorable infant in his camera roll, courtesy of Sam and his mate, Eileen. You coo at the chubby cheeks, the bright little eyes, and the swirled tuft of dark hair on his head.

“Where do they live?” you ask.

“Out west, a stone’s throw from the City of Angels.” Dean’s smile dims. “He just had to go back to California.”

“What’s wrong with California?” you ask.

“It’s full of pretentious douchebags, that’s what,” he says, his voice a dry whip. “Waxed up to the fucking eyeballs, smelling like Botox, Adderall, and sweaty desperation.”

You splutter laughing so bad that your diet coke escapes you in a spit take. It partially goes up into your nose, burning, stinging your eyes, but it’s made worse by the way Dean waves a hand up incredulously. You’ve just gotten half his sleeve wet.

He meets your gaze, and you can’t help but laugh even harder.

“Wow,” he says.

“God, I’m sorry,” you say, still giggling. You get up, hobble over to the kitchen counter, and rip off a paper towel to try and pat his arm dry. He takes it from you and helps you back into your seat.

“I got it, Spit Take. Just finish your food,” he says, if with a dancing gleam in his eyes.

From then on, it becomes easier for you to pull the alpha into conversation. Besides reading, napping, and staring out the window while it snows, you don’t have much by way of entertainment. Not to mention the pain of trying to get around without crutches, as it also jostles your ribs. Dean often has to help you from one room to another, which of course, you get embarrassed by.

“I’m sorry!” you yelp, when he saves you from another crash landing in the hallway. You’re fresh out of a shower, and it had taken you twenty minutes just to figure out how to wash your hair on one leg, let alone dry yourself off and get your shirt and borrowed sweatpants on. The main problem in getting back to your room happened to be the pants themselves. Their length and bagginess made you slip.

At least Dean’s learned to ignore your apologies. He now holds you by the waist, having pulled you against his chest on reflex. With furrowed brows, he notices your pained hiss when you grab onto his arms for balance.

“You okay?” he asks with a note of alarm.

“Ribs,” you gasp. They’re throbbing sharply with his hold, especially after being rattled by the near fall.

He immediately adjusts his hold lower, holding your arm and hip to support you. His hands are strong, but gentle. The warmth and pressure of his touch rattles you more than almost falling into a heap. Cliché as it might be, your heart is beating faster, what seems like in and out of rhythm. A feeling you can’t name stirs and tugs at your lower belly when you hazard looking up into his eyes. They’re a nice shade of green, like a forest floor in the spring.

“You just go ass over tea kettle at any moment, huh?” he quips, his lips tugging upward. “Come on. Where were you headed?”

“To my room, wise guy,” you say wryly, even as your blush heats your face and neck. “But this is a great taxi service.”

He snorts. “Yeah, call it the Winchestermobile.”

“Winchester. That your last name? Like the rifle?” you ask, while he helps you carefully down the hall. He nods in confirmation.

“That’s interesting. You don’t meet many Winchesters,” you remark.

“Yeah, well, ain’t that many left,” he mutters.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, easing you down onto the edge of the bed. His hands go to his hips as he scrutinizes your form for further injury. “You good? I was about to get cracking on some lunch.”

You offer him a grateful smile. “Yeah, I’m good. What’s on the menu?”

“Nothing fancy. I’m thinking grilled cheese. Maybe some tomato soup, assuming I can find a can in the pantry,” he says.

“Honestly, that sounds awesome,” you say. “Haven’t had a grilled since…God, probably since I was a kid.”

At that, Dean smiles. “Well, I happen to make an awesome one. No less than three kinds of cheese.”

“If they’re as good as your burgers, then I don’t doubt it,” you reply. He seems pleased at that, and maybe a little bashful as his gaze falls away.

Cute, you think. Your smile grows.

“All right, well, stay tuned,” he says. He winks, tossing you a “gun for hand” gesture that makes you laugh. Dean wears a rugged exterior as easily as his winter jacket, but he’s also kind of a dork.

After lunch (delicious, as you predicted), you take the afternoon just to sort through Dean’s records and alphabetize them for him. You hunker down on the floor in front of the shelf, close to the record player.

“I don’t need all that. I know where all my stuff is…more or less,” he says, with a lazy wave of the beer he has in hand.

“Oh really?” you raise a brow. “Okay, let’s test that theory. Where’s Boston.”

“Right next to the White Album, there on the left.”

Sure enough, you find Boston, as well as the White Album by the Beatles.

“Oh my God, you actually have the White Album?” You open up the double-sided case in excitement to read the list of songs printed on the inside. “This thing is so expensive.”

“Beatles fan, huh?” Dean says as he takes a seat on the couch. You turn your smile on him, and he stills in his seat.

“Uh, yeah. Who isn’t?” you say.

Dean shrugs with a smile of his own. “Put it on if you want.”

You bounce a little with excitement before you figure out how to turn on his record player. You put the vinyl album on Side B, moving the needle until you find “Blackbird.”

“Of course,” Dean says, slightly teasing. You turn to him with crunched brows.

“What? ‘Blackbird’s’ a classic.”

“Eh. Everyone likes ‘Blackbird.’”

“That’s what a classic means,” you argue.

“More like a mainstream copout,” he says. You think it’s just to needle you, but you still purse your lips.

“Fine, Mr. Music Snob. Then what’s your favorite?”

“On the White Album?”

“Any Beatles song.”

“‘Hey, Jude,’” he says, after a moment. There’s some kind of weight in his eyes, a note of melancholy. You don’t miss it, even though you don’t know why it’s there.

“Everyone likes ‘Hey, Jude,’” you quip, trying to lighten him.

He smiles a little. “Yeah. Fair enough.”

Finally, the snowstorm breaks. Dean ventures outside and brings you back a long, sturdy stick to lean your weight on when you want to move around, though he claims he’s working on a better solution. Now that the snow has let up, he’ll be able to go out to the shed and do some work.

Whatever that means, you think.

You watch him from the living room when he goes outside to chop some more firewood.

He should really wear a hat. His brown hair is getting dusted white with snow flurries as he continues to swing down the ax. You notice the power in his tall frame, even covered by layers of his jacket, pants, and boots. You almost feel each chop of the wood resonate in your chest.

Heat rises in your cheeks when he looks up, as if he senses he’s being watched. You bow your head and pretend to read your book.

His boots continue to crunch in the snow as he makes trips back and forth from the surrounding forest. Aside from the firewood, he brings back a few long, thinner logs that he takes to the shed. Soon you begin to hear the steady back-and-forth cutting of a saw. You wish you could go out there and take a look, but you can’t even get around the house that easily, let alone venture outside.

Your curiosity about this man knows no bounds, and you decide to use the walking stick he found for you in the meantime to get around without putting pressure on your injured ankle. You know it’s wrong, but you end up traversing the long, dark hallway, pushing open the door to the right, and venturing into Dean’s room.

It smells like him, earthy and tinged with smoke. His scent is seeped into every part of it—the bed, the dresser and nightstands, the dark blue bedsheets, the desk and chair, and even the drapes. It makes you almost lightheaded at the pleasurable feeling of it washing over you.

A shudder suddenly runs down your spine and tugs at your core in arousal. With a sharp intake of breath, you have to shift on your feet, pressing your legs together against the slick already forming down below.

You’re shocked and embarrassed at first. You aim to bolt out of his room, but you stop short in the doorway as it dawns on you.

Your sister is a beta, and so is her husband. She’s never completely understood you as an omega. She never understood your parents either, or the bond they had. She always scoffed at the idea of “true mates.”

Soulmates. It was fantasy and myth, the stuff of cheesy Harlequin novels.

Growing up, you’d agreed with her, even though a part of you deep down always protested. It wanted to tell her not to open her mouth about something she knew nothing about, and would never know.

The day you met Dean, you knew she was wrong.

Your more logical mind tries again to reassert itself though. You remind yourself that you barely know anything about this man, no matter how attractive, kind, funny, enigmatic…

And yet, you can’t shake that part of you that doesn’t rest until you see his face in the morning; until you make him coffee and eat breakfast together, and take any opportunity to pull more threads from him. It’s more than passing attraction. It’s more than just being stuck together in this cabin, unable to escape each other. You know, because the feeling scares you, and it electrifies your blood at the same time.

All these thoughts go through your mind when you turn back around. Slowly, you continue to look around his room, your whole body tingling. The room is neat, more or less, with everything in its proper place. It’s pretty bare though, décor wise. There’s a desk with a few scattered books and a journal sandwiched in between. A smile of surprise forms across your face.

No. Don’t tell me this guy is Mr. Dear Diary? you think in amusement. Though you wonder if it’s another way he passes his time here, especially when he’s holed up in his room.

You know you shouldn’t be snooping, let alone contemplating what you’re about to do…but you can’t help yourself. Biting your lip, you slide out the journal and begin to flip through it.

You frown at the strange drawings and odd entries—dates, narratives, scraps of information on different types of mythological creatures, and even more strange, on how to kill them.

What the hell is this?

That’s when you hear the front door swing open. You bolt from his room as quick as you can, not realizing you took the journal with you in your haste. You stuff it up your sweater and pretend like you’ve just come out of the bathroom on the way back to your room. There you slide the journal under your pillow. You jump when Dean knocks on your door.

“Hey,” he greets.

The jolting pains your ribs, and your hand goes to your left side in a hiss.

“You okay?” he asks, brows furrowing in concern. He takes a step into your room, but you turn to him with a nod and a placating hand.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You just scared me,” you say, with a bit of nervous laughter.

He gives a half smile. “Sorry. Just come ‘ere a sec. I wanna show you something.”

He reaches out a hand to help guide you to the living room.

There he presents you with two rudimentary crutches. Your eyes widen as your free hand passes over the smooth chestnut color of the wood. Dean keeps a light hold on your elbow, just in case.

“You made these?” you ask.

“Yeah, just a bit of woodworking. Picked it up over the last couple of years,” he says.

He’s downplaying it, but you’re nothing short of marveling. You set aside the walking stick in favor of picking up the crutches, and they’re even the right size to position them under your arms.

“Now you don’t have to hobble around like Long John Silver,” Dean quips. You meet the sight of his grin with a raised brow, but you soon begin to smile. When you get close enough to him, you lean the crutches against the couch and give him a warm hug, resting your head on his chest.

“Thank you,” you say. It’s something he was wholly unprepared for, but he hugs you back with a chuckle.

“Uh, you’re welcome.”

Just then, he tries not to inhale your scent. He tries not to focus on the feeling of your body pressed soft and warm against his. You fit just right.

After a beat, you have mercy on him and pull away. You take your crutches back up and continue to walk around the living room experimentally.

“You think I’d be okay trying to go outside?” you ask on your way to the door. Dean tenses.

“Uh, I don’t think—”

But you’re already halfway out the door. He shakes his head and follows you with swift strides. He watches you step out carefully onto the porch like a baby deer. He cleared the snow this morning from the deck and the steps, but he’s more concerned when he sees you considering how you might step out onto the snow.

“Stay on the porch, all right, Bambi,” he warns. “You’re not wearing snow boots and it’s still pretty deep. Not to mention, I’ve been keeping an eye out for a bear that wandered through here last week—”

You turn to look at him over your shoulder in amusement.

“Okay, Alpha. Calm down,” you say playfully. “I’m not gonna go ass over tea kettle.”

His brow twitches as he frowns. Alpha. He fights not to show his reaction to the way you said it; it calls to his baser instincts, almost stirring a rumble in his chest.

Cheeky little omega.

You keep to the porch, but regardless, you’re happy. You don’t even mind the cold. You see your breath on the air, and you tip your head back, closing your eyes with a smile as the sunshine warms your face. You inhale through your nose and let it out slowly in contentment.

“It’s a good day, Dean,” you say quietly.

You don’t realize that he’s watching you with a more reserved smile on his face. When he realizes it, he shakes his head at himself. He’s only been here a week with you, and it’ll probably take a couple more for your ankle to heal up well enough for you to walk again, let alone get down the mountain.

He doesn’t want to leave you alone up here, so he’ll have to somehow keep fending off your probing questions into his past and personal life. There's a lifetime of blood, nightmares, and death that he just can't let you see behind his eyes.

Hell, he's been trying to shove it all down for the past year—in booze and odd jobs and trips to nowhere, always coming back to an empty bunker. He still wonders how Sam's managed to do it, to move on, and build a new life for himself.

If Dean's honest (and he's not), he feels a bit like this cabin; old, falling apart, and forgotten.

But he’ll have to keep taking in your brightness and warmth, continue arguing with you about music and other inane shit, and pretend that every small touch of yours doesn’t ignite his skin. That it doesn’t make him have to beat down every instinct he has to pull you into his body and blanket you with his scent, ravage you, claim you, and make you his.

He never thought this would happen to him. He never thought someone like you was out there…for someone like him.

He knows it though, deep in his gut. You’re meant for him. You’re meant to be his mate.

Which means he’s already screwed.

AN: And we're off! Special thanks again to Michelle (@luci-in-trenchcoats) for being my sounding board when I was first writing this series. Let me know what you think of Part 1! 💜

Next Time:

I buried my wife today. Even as I write that down, I don’t believe it. Last week we were a normal family…eating dinner, going to Dean’s T-ball game, buying toys for baby Sammy. But in an instant, it all changed…

When I try to think back, get it all straight in my head…I feel like I’m going crazy. Like someone ripped both my arms off, plucked my eyes out. I’m wandering around, alone and lost and I can’t do anything.

This is Dean’s father, you realize. The more that you read, with no small amount of dismay, you also realize that this man is writing about his wife, Mary.

Dean’s mom…

Read on Patreon now!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter. 💜

Dean Winchester Tag List

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @deans-spinster-witch

@deans-baby-momma @sanscas @kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @iprobablyshipit91

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @pieandmonsters

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky @mxltifxnd0m

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @samslvrgirl @tortureddarkstar

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

@jc-winchester @charmed-asylum @fromcaintodean @k-slla @jackles010378

@deanbrainrotwritings @urfav-tz @alwaystiredandconfused @mrlonelycat @deans-daydream

@deanwinchestersgirl87 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @aylacavebear

@kmc1989 @siampie @rubyvhs @masked-lost-girl @suckitands33

@winchestergirl2 @a-lil-pr1ncess @winchester-whiskey @spnbabe67 @cheynovak

@megara0224 @yoongi-holland @illicithallways @perpetualabsurdity @deansimpala

@jessjad @impala-dreamer @k4marina @atenea585 @king-of-milf-lovers

@xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @daisychaingirl @star-yawnznn @number1whorehome

@g0ldfishd00dles @10ava01 @sixxteenbullets @tayl0rfanatic @everything-is-all-clear

@trashmoutth @riteofpassage77 @bleuatlas @luci-in-trenchcoats @valerinapetrova

@spnaquakindgdom @podiumackles @ladykitana90 @cookiechipdough @dmz1975

@lamentationsofalonelypotato @itsdesiree86

352 notes · View notes