#alpha!dean fanfiction

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.38

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

A/N: It’s my birthday!!

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics.

Bamby

“Yeah. You probably missed something, that's what.”

“Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?”

“Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important Sammy.”

You were sitting in the back of Baby, as usual, listening to the brothers bicker, as usual.

Sam was getting frustrated at his brother. “Well I'm telling you I looked and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something I don't know what.”

“Well maybe he's going to meet us there.” Dean still wasn’t giving up on their father.

Sam scoffed, “Yeah. Cause he's been so easy to find up to this point.”

“You're a real smart ass you know that?”

“He’s not wrong,” you mumbled to yourself.

Dean looked up, catching your eye in the mirror. He didn’t comment, but you knew he heard you, and by the way Sam shifted ever so slightly, you knew he heard as well. Both brothers had an idea of where you stood with John- Sam more than Dean- and neither was willing to comment on it. At least not yet, and not in front of the other.

“Don't worry I'm sure there's something in Fitchburg worth killing,” Dean insisted, getting back to the topic at hand.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, not sounding convinced. “What makes you so sure?”

“Cause I'm the oldest, which means I'm always right.”

“No it doesn't.”

“It totally does,” Dean insisted.

…

Leaning against Baby with Sam as Dean went to get some coffees, you watched the playground on the park you’d stopped next to. You were frowning, watching the scene in front of you, feeling uneasy.

There was only one child in sight, and she was barely playing.

Returning to you and Sam, Dean handed out the coffees he was carrying. “Well...the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky but other than that no one's heard about anything freaky going on.”

“Dean you got the time?” Sam asked, a curious frown furrowing his brows.

You looked up at him and noticed he was watching the park as well. It seemed you weren’t the only one who had noticed the peculiar scene.

“Ten after four,” Dean answered. “Why?”

“Look at the park,” you started. Dean came over to stand next to you and turned to the playground. “Where are all the kids?”

He grew just as curious as you and his brother. “School's out isn't it?”

“Yeah.” Sam nodded. “So where is everybody? This place should be crawling with kids right now.”

Sighing, Dean handed his coffee over to Sam without a word. You watched, confused for a moment, before he started towards the woman watching the little girl. You could only assume she was her mother.

“We’ll be right back,” you told Sam absentmindedly as you hurried after Dean to walk with him.

The woman was half watching her daughter, half reading the newspaper. Her daughter was playing, but with no one to join her, she didn’t seem as enthused as you guessed she normally would have been. It was as if the trip to the park was bittersweet.

“Sure is quiet out here,” Dean started, drawing the attention of the mother.

She looked up from her newspaper, a little startled at first. You watched her smell the air, catching Dean’s Alpha scent. Before she could react, however, she caught wind of your Omega which had her visibly relax.

“Yeah, it's a shame,” she noted, looking genuine.

“Why's that?” Dean asked.

She shrugged. “You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing.”

Growing more concerned, you moved over to sit with her on the bench. “Kids? Are there a lot getting sick?”

“Just five or six but serious,” she started. “Hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching.”

As an Omega it was in your blood to be concerned about children. You’d always pictured having pups of your own, even if sometimes you knew it wasn’t a feasible thought with your lifestyle. Despite that, you always felt the need to care for and worry about kids. This news just didn’t sit right in your gut.

…

You offered the nurse a gentle smile as you set the basket of stuffed toys you’d brought to the hospital on the counter between the two of you. She paused, looking from you to the basket and then back.

“Can I help you?”

Taking a deep breath, you nodded. “I heard about the children.”

One sniff and she knew you were an Omega, and that’s all it took.

Anyone who looked at you would see a concerned Omega, wanting nothing more than to help the families of the sick children. You weren’t pushing for information, or snooping around, you were simply concerned. It was in your nature to be so empathetic.

Smiling gently, she nodded. “The paediatric ward is down that hall, turn left and up the stairs.”

“Thank you.” Your smile had a hint of sadness to it as you gathered the basket and went to follow her directions.

As you rounded the corner, you looked back and spotted Sam and Dean walking into the hospital in their suits.

The plan was for you to talk to the families, while the brothers talked to the doctors. They were taking the roles as doctors from the CDC, which would get them access you wouldn’t normally have. It wasn’t common for a young Omega to have such a prestigious job.

Still, that didn’t mean you were without your own tools and skills.

…

Stepping towards one of the beds of the sick children, you placed a stuffed bear in the crook of the little girl’s arm. Looking down at her with sympathetic eyes, you felt your heart strings tug at the image of her laying there so still and pale.

“I’m so sorry about your daughters,” you started as you looked from one bed to the other before meeting the eyes of the girls’ father.

He was sitting by their beds, looking distraught and exhausted. He’d been here a few nights now, and with no sign of improvement or change, he was growing more and more fraught with each passing moment.

“That’s very kind of you.” He attempted a smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Chewing on your lip, you moved over to the seat next to his and set the basket of toys- which was almost empty now- on the ground in front of you. With your hands now free, you reached out to take his gently.

He flinched at first, before your soothing Omega scent eased some of the tension in his body.

“I lost my family when I was young,” you started. “I may not have children, but I know what it feels like to feel helpless. I only wish you get a happier ending than I did.”

It was true. You did lose your family, your real family, when you were young. To be honest, you barely remembered them. With all the trauma and chaos that surrounded the events of your childhood, you couldn’t remember much of your life before monsters and Winchesters. But you still understood the pain of losing loved ones.

His hand squeezed yours. “Thank you.”

Offering a gentle smile once more, you began to pry ever so carefully, “Do you mind if I ask…?”

“How it happened?” he finished for you. “I don’t know. Mary, my oldest, she came down with it first. Then Bethany caught it the next night.”

“So suddenly?” you asked, trying not to show how shocked you were.

Diseases spread, you were aware, but they didn’t just put kids into comas so suddenly. He was suggesting there were no symptoms, no warnings, and now his daughters were 

When he nodded, you could see just how tired he was. You knew he’d been trying to wrap his head around the whole thing ever since his daughters had fallen ill. It was all he could do with himself as he waited for any sign of them waking up soon.

“The doctors are saying it's pneumonia. But it doesn’t make sense. They were fine. They were perfectly fine. They were healthy. They were happy.” Shaking his head, you looked from each bed, trying to wrap his head around it.

All you could think to do was to give his hand a squeeze, to try and ease his pain and offer any support you could.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had you both look up. Sam and Dean were standing in the doorway, watching the two of you before their eyes fell onto the girls’ father.

“Sir, we’re from the CDC,” Sam started. “We were wondering if we could ask you a few questions?”

When the father hesitated, you gave him a reassuring nod. “I’ll stay with your girls until you come back.”

Thankful that they wouldn’t be alone, he squeezed your hand gratefully before following the brothers out of the room, leaving you to watch his motionless girls as they lay soundlessly in their hospital beds.

…

The brothers had left you in the car while they went to Bethany and Mary’s house. The idea was that their father would be at the hospital for the foreseeable future, so they would snoop around. Normally you would go with them, but it had been your idea to stay behind this time.

If they got caught it meant you were no longer a player in the game either. At least if the father went home and found the brothers in his house, you could still go to the hospital and get some information.

Sam had been surprised at your thought process, and impressed. Dean was actually relieved, as if there was something particularly stressing him out with this case.

The passenger side door opened as Sam slid into the car, their excursion over with. “Have you heard of a shtriga?”

Your brows crinkled in confusion. “A what?”

Dean got into the car then, with a sigh. “Sammy and me found some stuff. We think it could be a shtriga.”

“Dean thinks it could be one,” Sam corrected.

“Well, whatever it is, we need to find a motel so we can do research,” you noted.

Nodding, agreeing with you, Dean turned Baby on and started down the road. Neither of you said much as he drove, but words didn’t need to be said. You could sense the tension in the air. Something was wrong with Dean.

Bamby

[zepskies]

Against the Wind || Series Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female 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: Another short series for @jacklesversebingo! This is a canon ending-divergent AU, but still an Omegaverse story within the canon SPN world.

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates

Series Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! A/B/O dynamics, scenting, injuries, angst, smut, fluff and feels. Background Sam Winchester x Eileen (Saileen).

Chapters:

Part 1: In His Hands

Part 2: Seems Like Yesterday

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn - Read on Patreon now

Part 4: Running to Live

New chapters every Friday!

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[phantomstatistician]

Tag: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics

Sample Size: 34,123 stories

Source: AO3

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Ranger (Part 2)

Summary: The reader is trying to deal with the secret Dean's dropped on her but things still don't add up. And despite her Alpha trying to convince her they can never be something more, she's not ready to give up so easily...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 6,400ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of murder/manipulation, smut

A/N: Please enjoy!

_______

He what? Hunting people? What kind of answer was that? You figured he was hiding some sort of criminal background, something to do with DNA. Yeah, maybe even the fact he could have killed someone crossed your mind during your research. 

But there was a damn big difference between killing a guy and hunting him.

You were so dumbfounded by his response that Dean took pity on you and moved away, lips pursed. “Y/N, I’m going to say this one more time because I know that’s a lot to take in at once. I will never harm you. I can smell the fear coming off of you but you don’t need to be afraid of me.”

He took another step back when you continued to stare, his eyes darting away. 

“You wanted the truth and now you have it,” he said as he headed for the hallway. 

“Bullshit.” He froze outside his bedroom, frowning when he glanced over his shoulder. “You haven’t told me anything, Winchester.”

You stormed over, poking him in his muscular chest, Dean’s eyebrows raising. “I told you what you need to know. I kill people. It’s that simple.”

“No, it’s really not.” You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling him down close, your nose burying itself in his neck. You inhaled sharply before he managed to pull away.

“The fuck are you doing?” he growled, backing away. You narrowed your eyes, Dean matching your expression. “You can’t smell-”

“I had to take a psychology class as part of my major. It was to understand why people lie, break laws when they know they shouldn’t, stuff like that. I was very good at scenting during interviews. I went a different route but I remember what scents under duress meant.” You backed him up against the door, Dean’s chest vibrating with the low threatening growl he was emitting. “Terror had a very specific profile if I recalled correctly. Very difficult to conceal-”

He grabbed your shoulders, pushing you back against the door, hand planted firmly over your mouth. You swallowed thickly, Dean breathing hard.

“Listen very closely because I won’t repeat myself. You are going to quit your job. You are going to call your family and tell them you met your true mate. Then, I’m going to make it look like you died.” Your eyes went wide, Dean’s jaw clenched so hard you thought it might break in half. “You will have your freedom but you will do what I say, when I say, without question. Do you understand?”

Oh, you understood alright. You responded in kind by grabbing his crotch and squeezing so hard he made a squeaking noise as he fell to his knees. He gasped and tried to breathe, hands over his surely bruised cock as you squatted down. You took his chin in your hand, Dean letting out a tiny shiver of pain.

“Do. Not. Bullshit. Me. Stop pretending to protect me and start telingl me the goddamn truth because I have a feeling something seriously fucked up is going on. So you go take a long hard look in the mirror and figure out exactly what you want to say. Or next time? I’m going to crush your dick so hard it never works again.”

You released him and stood up, walking back towards the living room. 

“You’re my true mate? Fucking act like it. Alpha.”

It was an hour later when you heard the soft opening of the bedroom door. You glanced away from the TV playing an old movie, Dean now wearing a plain black shirt and gray flannel pants. He smelled clean and watched him carefully approach the other end of the couch. He gestured to it and you nodded, Dean taking a seat. You turned off the movie and sat up, taking your blanket with you.

Dean sighed, criss crossing his legs and facing you. He rested his elbows against his knees, leaning forward, head bowed.

“I joined the bureau after college. FBI. I was a data analyst for a year while I worked on getting into the field office program. I’d wanted to be a cop originally but this was like being a detective for the whole country which I thought was pretty cool. The senior handler in my group did these…side jobs and I got pulled into it. This guy came after me at my apartment in Kansas City and I barely made it out alive. That’s when I found out I was targeted because my handler pissed someone off. They wanted to hurt his team, send a message, and I was the least experienced. They thought they’d kill me.”

Dean shifted in his seat, folding his hands together, still not meeting your gaze.

“When you unknowingly kill a member of the mob, you kind of become target number one for the mob.”

“So you’re in witness protection?” you asked, Dean immediately shaking his head. 

“My handler and the team took care of this mob family. They weren’t particularly large, but they did it. Killed close to fifty people to protect me.” He grabbed his wrist, squeezing it gently. “But it was all a lie. That story I just told you? It’s the same bullshit they told me. My handler it turned out was…”

He breathed deeply, rubbing his palm against his head.

“The whole damn team was crooked. They lied, made me feel like they protected me and that I owed them. They said if we went through proper channels the mob would find out and I’d be dead. They’d torture and kill my family. I was grateful to my team for about five whole minutes,” he breathed out with a dry laugh. “They set me up. It was one big sham. The mob ordered the hit on their own guy and hired my handler to do it. My handler, well he wanted me to be crooked too. And by me killing the guy? By not going through the bureau? He had evidence that I’d committed a murder, made it seem like I was some murderous vigilante. From that day forward, he told me he owned me and he fucking did.”

You pushed your blanket to the ground, inching closer to him. Dean’s back shook, his head buried in his hands.

“He made me help kill people so he could make a profit. He stalked my little brother for seven years, made sure to send me pictures to remind me to keep up my end of the deal.”

“What happened that changed all that?” you said softly. 

“The handler and two other agents on the team died during an operation a few years ago. It was a miracle. The other three agents were injured but…in the chaos, I saw my out andI slit their throats. I needed my family to be safe. FBI believes it was the culprit we were chasing that day. I’d been injured too so I was never suspected. My DNA was on the bodies though, in evidence. I had to change mine and fast. My friend is a doctor…”

“Your friend told you about Novi-Alpha.” He nodded. “So you have to stay on it so you don’t get caught for their murders.”

“If I go off of it and my DNA gets entered into any police database, they’ll know what I did. I can’t let that happen. Not yet.”

You crawled closer, taking his hands into yours, Dean finally looking you in the eye. His own were bloodshot, tired and sad. “But you’re not actually scared about the police finding you. Or the FBI.” He shook his head. “So why do you need to hide your DNA?”

“You assumed I take Novi-Alpha for what it does to DNA. I’m not worried about them connecting me to the murders four years later. If it were that simple, I’d have been off the stuff years ago.” He held his wrist up to your face. “Scent is…unique. Novi-Alpha blocks scent to other Alphas. All they smell is the same base component in any Alpha. I can’t be identified.”

“But…”

“Three years ago I got a letter detailing my exact scent profile, even the shit only my true mate is supposed to be able to scent. Somehow, he knows what I smell like. All it said was that I was next. Thank god he doesn’t know my name or my family would be dead by now. But that letter? It came from the town of Mount Dusk.”

“When you said you hunt people…” you trailed off, Dean nodding. “That’s why you were walking in the pouring rain this morning. You’re searching for this person.”

“There are some recluses around these parts. I’m narrowing it down but it’s difficult. The last thing I wanted, the last thing, was for my true mate to come here of all places. I’m pretty sure this person wants to kill me. I’m still missing pieces. At best, you’re in danger. At worst, this person gets ahold of you and…”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut when you moved his hand to your neck, grazing over your fresh mark. 

“I wish things were different,” he whispered. His head was low, hand only still on you because you held him there. “It’s not fair to you but you can’t have your true mate. In the morning, I’ll get ahold of my doctor friend. He lives a few hours away. He’s nice and it’ll be like having a roommate is all. He’ll make sure you have a good safe life away from all this-”

You leaned forward, capturing his cheeks in your hands as you planted a hard kiss on him. Dean jerked in his seat, wide eyed when you broke it off quickly.

“I don’t understand. You can’t feel our bond,” he said when you put your arms over his shoulders and wrapped your legs loosely around his waist. You sat in his lap, Dean’s skin flush, scent like smoky pines. “Why did you kiss me?”

“Sweetheart, you might be the Alpha but there’s no way I’m leaving you here alone to deal with some asshole that wants to hurt you.” 

“...Alright,” he grit out, clearly not liking that response. “But again, why kiss me? You can’t feel our bond.”

“I can’t feel a stupid bond. It doesn’t mean I can’t feel something for you. I’d like to like you. Deep down, ou’re not the dickhead Alpha you keep acting like. You're just scared. I understand. But I need to stay with you and help you solve this thing that way you can get off that damn medication and we can start our lives together.”

He shook his head, yours shaking right back. “Did you miss the part where I said I was a hitman for years? The Ranger? I had a fucking name in the business and everything I’d killed that many people.”

“You ever kill anyone innocent?” He was silent, frowning at you. “Exactly. And I still feel like you’re making it sounds worse than it was. Let me help you. You may have given up on yourself but I know you’re good.”

“Why would you think that? All I’ve done is yell at you.”

“You saved my life today, Alpha. Before you knew we were mates.” You hugged him tight, Dean burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Warm breath tickled your skin, Dean’s limbs finally squeezing around you. “We’re soulmates. We’re meant to be together and if this is what we’re meant to get through right now then we will. But promise me something.”

“What?” he whispered.

“Don’t give up on us being able to feel our bond the way we’re supposed to. Someday you can be off that medicine and you won’t have to hide anymore. Promise me that.”

“I promise, Omega,” he murmured over your mark. You sat in a content silence for only a moment, his stomach rumbling loudly. He pulled back and set a hand over his stomach, rubbing it gently. “Sorry. I didn’t eat much today.”

“To be honest, I’m pretty hungry myself. My appetite’s come back since earlier,” you said, moving to your feet. “I bet we can find something.”

“I eat a lot of frozen meals,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as you headed over to the kitchen. “Omega.”

You hummed as you stopped in front of the refrigerator, Dean putting a hand on your arm gently.

“Please let me get it,” he said quietly. You sighed but held up your hands. Your eyes widened when he lifted you up and sat you on top of the counter easily, his fingers brushing lose hair behind your ear. He smirked. “So you are capable of listening to me.”

“I am fine but it stresses you out, me doing anything more than sitting on my ass right now, doesn’t it.”

“Despite the evidence to the contrary, I’m not an asshole that wants to control you,” he said, taking out a package of cheese and some sliced tomato on a plate. He set them beside you along with a stick of butter. His green eyes found yours, Dean settling between your legs, hands on either side of your thighs. “Tomorrow you can be the strong, capable person I know you are. Tonight, let me take care of my omega. It’s not much but I can feel some Alpha instincts for my mate and they are twitchy as hell right now.”

“And me listening to you calms them down?” He nodded, his nostrils flaring briefly. “And you can scent me?”

“Barely but yes. It’s how I know you’re not at a hundred percent right now. It’s different than normal scenting. It’s hard to explain.”

“It makes sense. Make your dinner, Dean.” He hummed, trailing his finger down your thigh before he broke away and moved to the stove. He didn’t speak while he worked on assembling his sandwich but his shoulders did ease slightly. 

A man on the run, hunting down someone who wanted to hurt him. The last thing he wanted was his true mate in the thick of it. A true mate he felt for more than he was letting on but still tried to keep you at arms length to protect you.

“Dean,” you said quietly from the countertop as he dried the pan. He hummed, setting it back on the stove top before leaning back against the island across from you. “You said your Alpha senses towards me, you can feel them?”

He paused a beat before nodding. 

“I know I’m the one that was in the hospital today but are you okay? That’s…a lot to try and deal with and be the strong guy. I get it. Your Alpha brain is going a million miles an hour cause you have a recovering Omega on your hands and you’re hardwired to get crazy protective.”

You slid off the counter down to the floor, taking two steps to reach him. Your hands settled on his firm waist, Dean tensing under the touch. 

“I don’t think you’ve been okay in a long time and today was a bad day. I just…want my Alpha to know he can lean on me too.” Large hands rested over yours, sliding them down until he was holding them, resting them against his thighs. You swallowed, biting your bottom lip. “You strike me as the kind of guy that’ll blame himself for thinking he nearly killed me when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.”

“Y/N-”

“You saved me today. My Alpha did. You hurt me by blaming yourself so just don’t, alright? Don’t do that to me.” He parted his soft pink lips, waiting for words to come. But he only sighed, closing his pretty green eyes. “Today’s supposed to be a happy day for us. So let’s be happy, alright?”

“Y/N, it doesn’t work like-”

“You promised you would try. Is my Alpha a liar?” He opened his eyes to stare at you, brow furrowed slightly. “I didn’t think so.”

“Has anyone ever told you how frustratingly annoying you are?” he sighed. You simply smiled, Dean throwing his head back. “Fine.”

He bent down and scooped you up in his arms, your own wrapping around his neck in an effort to cling to something. “What are you doing?”

“You’re quite a needy little Omega, aren’t you,” he said, a flicker of mischievousness in his eyes as he walked down the hallway and into the master bedroom.

“Are you teasing me, Alpha?” you shot back, Dean shrugging, a sliver of a smirk on his face. “So he does have a fun side.”

“Oh, I’m quite fun,” he said, gently resting you on top of the bed. He tucked the covers down and then over your body, hesitating before bending down to press a kiss to your lips. “I’ll be in the room across the hall if you need me.”

“What?” you said, sitting up quickly. His heavy hands caught your shoulders before you could get further. A beat passed and he sat on the edge of the mattress, one of his hands cupping your cheek. “You promised you’d try. You-”

“I can’t share a bed with you. I don’t think I can even kiss you again.” Anger pooled in your core but Dean was already puling away. “I’m sorry.”

“What the fuck was all that out there then?” you spat back at him. Dean glanced to his lap when you pushed his hands away from you. “I know you feel something here. You want me so don’t pretend you don’t.”

“Omega.” He looked away, shaking his head. “You’re asking me to sleep in a bed next to my true mate. My sweet little mate that I can’t go more than a few minutes without wanting to knot. If I keep kissing you…and if I sleep in here…all I’m doing is putting you in danger of me not staying in control.”

He frowned when he met your face, taking in your confused eyes. 

“You need to start taking that medicine the doctor gave you to help suppress your scent. Tonight. Because all I want to do is claim you properly and if I do, I’ll have fucking killed you.”

“Then stop taking Novi-Alpha and claim me,” you said, stabbing him in the chest. His eyes darkened and you poked him again. “You want to do this right now? Fine. I was going to save this for the morning but I think you’re missing something really fucking important. This person that’s after you? They had your complete and total scent profile? With the true mate stuff? Well guess what? They were bluffing you. It’s physically impossible for anyone except your true mate to know that. Any guesses why they’d do that? Hm? Maybe so they’d get you to move here and look for this guy. Maybe so they could get you alone and isolated and scared while they did what they actually wanted.”

“Which is what?” he asked quietly. You sighed, shaking your head.

“Get you out of the way so you wouldn’t question why the operation with your team lead went bad in the first place. Why you wouldn’t question that the FBI clearly has DNA evidence you killed those other team members but never did anything about it. Did it cross your mind they set it up to kill all of you and they realized you weren’t a part of it so they let you go? I mean how long did you get this threatening note after the murders?”

“...Next day.”

“Which means they have someone working for the FBI undercover out here who knows exactly who you are. They sent you on a wild goose chase to a small town so you’d be out of their hair.”

“Why would they let me go? I’m such a loose end-”

“Jesus christ you idiot,” you said, grabbing his shoulders, yanking him closer. “You are not the bad guy. They are keeping an eye on you out here to make sure you aren’t but that is all it is. There is no one coming after you. If there was, don’t you think they would have gone after your family already? It’s been three years since you killed those your team.”

His hand shot to your throat in an instant, squeezing just hard enough to make you gasp.

“I never told you how long it was.” He let go just in time to grab your arm, pushing you back against the wall, caging your body in. He towered over you, eyes narrowed. “Who the fuck are you and don’t give me that corporate forensic bullshit.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, holding up your hands. “I’m…”

“You’re what?” he growled, grabbing both your wrists in one of his large palms. “A spy? An agent? Someone meant to watch me? Kill me?”

“...I’m the person you were supposed to kill that day. I was the mark. I was…”

“Songbird.” You nodded, Dean’s grip loosening on you. “Songbird wasn’t even a college age girl. Not even eighteen. You’re older. I don’t-”

“They used my highschool picture and altered it with AI. The mark you got from your team leader to kill was a girl that never existed. My dad hired the hit if you want to call it that to see if they could catch them in the act. He’s the senior field officer that was investigating your team. It was always…everyone was supposed to die except for you. You were let go because you were innocent and he knew that. They knew you were manipulated and forced. No one blamed you for killing the others to get out. If you hadn’t done it, they would have. But they couldn’t let you be an agent anymore. It looked bad that they left you on your own to protect your family so it was either kill you or kick you out. My dad advocated that you were a good man and they agreed to keep you under supervision for five years. If you didn’t make any moves in that time that showed you were a killer for hire, you were free to live your life normally. The only person that’s watching you in this town is a retired field officer named Harrison Y/L/N. He goes by Harry.”

“You came here on vacation to visit your fucking dad,” he said, releasing you, taking two large steps back. “You knew this whole time-”

“I found all of this out at the damn hospital today when they called my parents so don’t you blame me,” you said, voice wavering as you felt his anger stir in the air. “My dad dropped the fucking bomb on me and told me not to tell you you a word. And you were so mean and angry and I was scared cause I almost died. He told me you killed people and I was scared you were lying about why you were on Novi-Alpha. I thought maybe he was wrong and you still killed people…because you liked it…I didn’t want you to hurt me if I brought it up. I thought…”

You wrinkled your nose when wetness built up in your eyes, swallowing thickly to try and will it away. Dean approached you, your gaze shooting to the floor.

“Why did you stay if you thought I was a monster?”

“You’re not a monster,” you whispered. You forced your head up, blinking back tears when he tilted his head at you. “The only people you ever killed were those three teammates and a mobster and it was basically self-defense. My dad said those are the only people you ever killed so why would you lie? Why would you make it seem like you did it all the time?”

“To scare you into leaving. It didn’t work obviously. And I might not have pulled a trigger but I did research, I helped those other kills.” You smiled, sniffling once as a tear rolled down your cheek. 

“You’re not that scary, Alpha. I stayed, didn’t I?” He wiped his thumb under your eye, brushing away the wetness that threatened to spill over once more. “I’ll go away if you want me to. But you don’t have to stay on that medicine anymore. No one will hurt you or your family.”

“I am not happy to be used like some pawn in a game. Your father should have come directly to me and I would have told him everything he wanted to know. I’ve been hiding for three years because of this. I haven’t seen my family in three years.” You nodded, looking away. You stepped past him, going to a chair and picking up your hospital clothes into your arms. “And where do you think you’re going?”

You turned around slowly, Dean ripping the clothes out of your hands, throwing them back in the chair.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to go wash your face and go to bed because goddamn you have no idea how stressed the fuck out you smell right now. Tomorrow, we are going to the hospital for your follow up check up and I am getting a blood test to make sure there is no more Novi-Alpha in my system. Then we are coming home and I will be claiming you and you’re gonna stop fucking crying because it feels like my soul is tearing in half whenever you do. And when we’re good and ready, we’re going to visit Harry and he will get the FBI off my fucking back so I can get on with my damn life with my Omega. Is that clear?”

“Okay,” you whispered, letting him take your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you right away.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s been a long day and…can we agree to not keep secrets anymore?”

“Yeah,” you said, Dean pulling you into a crushing hug. You relaxed into it, Dean kissing the top of your head. “I thought kissing wasn’t allowed.”

“Fuck it. I’m claiming you tomorrow. A few kisses won’t hurt.”

“Good cause I can use them.” You rested your head against his shoulder, breathing deeply. You felt another across the crown of your head, a tiny smile crossing your lips. “If it makes you feel any better, I told my dad to fuck off for asking me to lie to you.”

“It does a little. My omega is the protective type I’m learning.”

“Yes she is,” you said, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting you. Your knees buckled, Dean catching you in his arms and guiding you to the bed. “Do not say I told you so.”

“I said nothing.” He smiled as you laid back down, closing your eyes. “Get some sleep. We’ll get you cleaned up in the morning, alright?”

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” you asked, catching a big whiff of his scent as a blanket was laid over top of your body.

“Not tonight. Soon,” he said, turning off the light. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Night, Dean.”

You woke up to the smell of cinnamon rolls and fresh pine floating through the air. Had Dean baked? Throwing the covers back, a wave of scent slammed into you. 

“Morning,” said Dean with a coy smile. He sipped from a coffee mug, leaning against the doorframe. You blinked as you took him in, hands fisting in the sheets when the urge to pounce on him crackled through you like lightning. He chuckled, cocking his head. “Yeah, I know the feeling. You’re like…”

You stood up, crossing the room quickly, Dean catching you in one arm. 

“Calm Omega,” he shushed you when you slammed your lips to his. “After we both pass our checkups.”

Heat pooled between your legs and your eyes flashed wide when you felt something very wet. You both looked down, your face on fire when you realized you’d just made slick…in his fucking boxer briefs.

“I-I’m…” 

“To be fair,” he said, taking a long sip of his coffee before offering the mug to you, “You did proposition me yesterday so this is really nothing.”

You smacked his arm gently, Dean laughing quietly. “I was in serious pain! A-and I think I’m going to go into heat again soon.” You took a drink from the mug, happy to find it wasn’t straight black coffee. 

“Why don’t you get dressed then and we’ll head over to the hospital so we can…” he trailed off, roaming his eyes down your body, shaking his head. He grabbed your arm and started heading for the front door. 

“Dean, I’m not even dressed,” you said. He paused, leaving you in the kitchen before he hurried into the guest room. He exited not five seconds later with a pair of your joggers in hand. “You really can’t wait to knot me, huh?”

“No, I really can’t,” he said, letting you lean on him as you tugged the pants up. He went to the front door, groaning when you started to look around. “Y/N. I’m gonna bust a knot over here.”

“I know, I know. I just wanted one of those cinnamon rolls before we go.” He raised his eyebrows at you. 

“I have no…we can swing by the bakery tomorrow. They normally have really good-” He stopped when you approached him, inhaling sharply with a smile.

“Oh my god, you spell like cinnamon rolls! Like you have all those classic rugged Alpha scents that are to die for but cinnamon rolls? I didn’t know Alpha’s could smell like that.” Dean’s lip ticked up, dipping his head as he put a baseball cap on his head. 

“Winchesters have been known to…smell like baked goods to their mates,” he mumbled, handing you your rainjacket. “Apparently it’s true.”

“Can you scent anything new on me?” you asked, sliding into the jacket, holding onto Dean as you put on your rain booties. 

“You’re not in pain anymore which I like…and you smell like fresh peaches which I didn’t notice before. It’s…nice,” he said as you stood. He flipped your hood up for you, stroking his thumb over your heated cheek. “It, uh, rains a lot here. We’ll have to get you some better gear.”

“We will,” you said, Dean’s fingers tucking your hair under your jacket so you wouldn’t get wet. “Let’s get out of here, Alpha.”

“After you.”

Approximately two hours and thirty seven minutes later, not that you’d been counting, you were shoving a more than wet Dean back against the front door. The urge to mate was strong and now that you both had the all clear, you couldn’t wait another second to have his knot and claim again.

It wasn’t your fault your pulled him out of the car so fast he didn’t have time to get his hood up.

“Alpha,” you purred, reaching for his belt, ripping it out of the loops and tossing it aside. 

“Down girl,” he said in a low, husky voice but his hands were moving as fast as yours. Coats and boots landed in a wet heap on the floor. Your hoodie, which was his hoodie but was your hoodie from now on you’d already decided, was tossed aside as he shrugged out of his flannel.

You growled when he walked towards the fireplace but he shushed you, taking your hand and holding up a finger. You let him have roughly eight seconds to start a fire before you were behind him, reaching for the hem of his heather gray tee shirt. He spun, planting his large hands on your hips, squeezing them so tight you shivered in the best way.

“Someone’s eager,” he murmured, nipping at your jaw. Hot breath fanned over your mark, Dean brushing his lips over the still healing gland, barring his teeth against the flesh. It was too hot and you slid his shirt up his body, Dean responding with his approval by growling against your skin. “Fuck, we doing this fast?”

“Wasn’t it obvious?” you said, Dean breaking away to rip his shirt off one handed. You barely had a second to take in his muscular body before he tugged your shirt clean off of you, leaving you in only his underwear you still wore. 

“Holy shit, you’re gorgeous.” The way he looked ready to devour you made your stomach do flips, voice caught in your throat when he slowly dragged his zipper downwards. Thumbs hooked into the waistband of his jeans and he shoved them along with his underwear over a round, tight ass and long, lean legs. 

Your eyes shot to his hard cock as he straightened up, a devilish smirk on his face. He made a show out of stretching his arms overhead, showing off the raw strength of his body, just how fucking broad and powerful he was.

“My omega like what she sees?” he teased when your gaze finally found it’s way back to his handsome face. You licked your lips, Dean chuckling. “S’all yours, sweetheart. Come and take it.”

“Cocky bastard,” you said, making a show out of stepping out of the underwear and tossing it somewhere on the other side of the room. His eyes trailed up and down your body, grin reaching his eyes when you stalked over slowly in front of him. He leaned in close, so many pheromones filling the air you were having a hard time concentrating on not coming on the spot.

“Omega,” he murmured, kissing under your jaw. “Hold on tight.”

You were in the air, spun around, back hitting the wall by the fireplace as your legs shot around his trim waist. A greedy moan filled the air when the tip of his cock hit your clit, rubbing it once, twice and you were literally shaking.

“Stop or you’ll make me come,” you whispered. “I-Inside.”

“I’ll torture you another day. Promise.” He winked and shifted his hips back, lining up with you. “Tell me to stop if it hurts.”

“What if I want it to hurt?” you said through eyelashes and you swore you felt his heart skip a beat. “Fuck me so hard I feel you for days. Fuck this heat right out of me.”

It was like a switch in his head flipped, the primal Alpha side of him determined to make that happen. He slammed his hips forward, a sharp shock to the system as you stretched around him, just shy of taking his knot. You were absolutely going to be sore but it wasn’t painful thankfully.

The fact you were wetter than the fucking ocean probably had something to do with it too.

Dean rutted into you again, your fingers digging into his back so hard he’d be covered in bruises tomorrow. “Fuck, sweetheart. Fuck yeah, mark me up.”

You threw your head back when he planted a hand by your head and fucking rammed his cock so hard you screamed. Dean settled into a punishing pace, driving his cock harder and harder, trying to wedge his knot inside your fluttering walls. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you breathed out when you were both covered in sweat, pooling down your chests, Dean’s grunt and groans loud in your ear. 

And then…on the edge of too much pleasure, you felt his swelling knot slip inside, knocking the air out of your lungs. You could feel it expand inside you so rapidly, pushing you higher and higher, you were holding onto Dean for dear life. 

“I’m…” he panted as you nodded. Soft pink lips locked around your bonding gland, Dean’s thrusts becoming erratic and then you felt him bite.

It was a damn good thing Dean didn’t have neighbors with the shout you let out. The tightly wound pressure in your core exploded as warmth flooded your insides. You were floating, flying, head going blank and a million miles an hour.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but cling to Dean as an overwhelming feeling of calm washed over you. It was like you’d never know what it was to be alone ever again.

When you opened your eyes, Dean was laying on his back on the floor, staring up at you with the softest smile in the world. 

“Hi,” you breathed out, Dean tucking your hair behind your ear as you straddled him.

“So that’s what it feels like when you feel it too,” he said, planting his palm on your chest, trying to catch his breath. “Wow. I feel-”

“Lighter,” you said, lowering yourself down, planting your arms on either side of his head. Dean leaned up and kissed you, hand winding it’s way to the back of your neck, keeping you close. It was less urgent, gentle in how he moved his lips. He grinned when you ran a hand through his sweaty, damp hair. 

“I think you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart,” he teased, dragging his knuckles over your cheekbone. 

“Such a shame. I thought you’d be taller.” He laughed so hard you felt it in your bones, Dean grinning when you splayed out on top of him and rested your chin on his chest. “So you’re not all broody every moment of the day after all.”

“Careful, Omega. Your grump might even let on that he likes to cuddle.”

“Oh, he does? Well we’ll be sure to explore that side of you,” you said. You grinned as he stroked your face, a warm cozy feeling settling deep down inside. “You know, I-” 

Dean’s gaze flickered away to something behind you, his eyes flashing wide before two things happened very, very quickly.

The sound of multiple windows breaking and the door being kicked in crashed through the air, letting the sound of the pouring rain become even more pronounced. You may have paid more attention to the deafening sounds if it weren’t for what Dean did.

He was knotted to you, buried to the hilt inside of you with at least twenty minutes remaining before he would deflate and the two of you could separate. It was a way of being close, being intimate, feeling one another. Knots could not be removed without severely injuring the receiving partner. 

And yet, in what felt like less than a second, Dean literally ripped you off of his body and dropped you onto the floor in one swift motion. It felt like a sucker punch as you waited for the pain but all you felt was Dean standing, grabbing you with one hand to push you behind him. 

There were people in the house, dressed head to toe in black and with large guns. And you and Dean were trapped buck naked backed up against the fireplace with nowhere to go.

________

A/N: Read the final part here!

[lanevra]

[iprobablyshipit91]

iprobablyshipit91 Fic Recs

So this started as me keeping links of all my favourite Dean Winchester fics that I finally decided to share so others could hopefully find some great stories and the authors would know how much I love their work. It’s kind of grown to a very, very huge list, but I love everyone of these works, they’re amazing and deserve so much love. I hope you find something you love on here 💕

There’s a mix of fluff, angst, smut, au etc. Please make sure you read the warnings for each story on it’s own page.

Beautiful Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Dean Winchester x Reader

Should I Stay or Should I Go by @daisythekitty

Sweet Dreams by @deanssweetheart23

Slip Up by @deanwritings

Bad Moon Rising by @hintsofhoney

Not the Planned Delivery by @lazydoodlesandfanfic

Unnamed by @lostdreamr-blog1

I’ve Got You by @spnexploration

Broken Ribs Against Fingertips by @the--blackdahlia

Motel Diablo by @waynes-multiverse

Sharing is Caring by @zepskies

Mini Date by @avanatural

The Talk by @avanatural

And Baby Makes Four by @carryonmywaywardone-shots

Nows the Time by @crashdevlin

Down on Dean by @deanwanddamons

The Prettiest One by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Always You and Me by @deanwinchesterswitch

Bullets and Bands by @deanwinchesterswitch

Capeesh? By @deanwritings

I Ship It by @deanwritings

It’s Okay by @deanwritings

Safe Now by @deanwritings

What We Lost by @deanwritings

Tell Me About… by @impala-dreamer

Glances by @kasimagines

It’s Okay, I Love You by @kasimagines

Poison by @kasimagines

Obeying Temptation by @kittenofdoomage

Sweet Satisfaction by @kittenofdoomage

Nannas Love Sammy by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Something New by @princessmisery666

Date Night by @princessmisery666

I Would Never Hurt You by @procrastinatorimagines

Frayed Ends by @scuttling

Must be Love on the Brain by @sleepywinchester

Below Freezing by @soaringeag1e

Promises by @supersleepygoat

Friendzoned by @talesmaniac89

Stupid Cupid by @talesmaniac89

Crazy on You by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Different by @watermelonlipstick

Labyrinth by @waynes-multiverse

Love on the Brain by @waynes-multiverse

Gesundheit by @waynes-multiverse

Dark Waters by @wearywinchester

Above Ground by @wearywinchester

I Won’t Say (I’m in Love) by @zepppie

The Wrong Winchester by @cherry3point14

Good Things by @crashdevlin

Baby Spoon by @deanwanddamons

Rumours by @deanwinchesterswitch

Blind Love by @jawritter

Faded by @kasimagines

Sacrifice by @kasimagines

The Last Call by @kasimagines

To Know You by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Watch and Learn by @littlegreenplasticsoldier

Can’t Fight This Feeling by @pink-sparkly-witch

Mischief Managed (2) by @sinfulsoulx

A Few Moments of Madness | Last Time? by @smellingofpoetry

Familiar by @spnhunter4life

Dream On by @talesmaniac89

Well, Hello There Stranger by @talesmaniac89

If You Want it to Be by @zepskies

Midnight Espresso | Devour Me by @zepskies

Clear the Area by Alisha Ashton

Many of Horror by Alisha Ashton

Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks by Alisha Ashton

In the Dark by Alisha Ashton

Comfort by @fangirlingfromdownunder

Baby, We’ve got a Problem by @deanwritings

Night Falls by @deanwritings

Captives of the Court by @impala-dreamer

Carry On by @jawritter

My Saviour by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

Heart of a Hunter by @muchamusedaboutnothing

The Widow by @pink-sparkly-witch

The One That Got Away by @pink-sparkly-witch

Hold On I’m Coming by @ravengirl94

The Arrangement by @ravengirl94

Long Way Home by @supersleepygoat

Cross my Heart by @smol-and-grumpy

Home to You by @smol-and-grumpy

Collared by @spnexploration

Pack by @spnexploration

Limelight by @talesmaniac89

Charity Heist by @talesmaniac89

The Man in Apartment 43 by @talesmaniac89

Practically Magic by @thelibrarylesstrektraveled

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 1 by @waywardaardvark79

Supernatural Series Rewrite: Season 2 by @waywardaardvark79

Miscommunication by @winchest09

Don’t Say a Word by @winchester-girl67

Never Say Goodbye by @zepskies

[aylacavebear]

Bloodlines & Fate Master List

Summary: You have a genetic disorder, Touched, the doctor called it, and with your lineage, you should be overjoyed. Your pack is, and there was a celebration when your parents found out when you were five. The older you got, though, the more you began hating it. You couldn’t scent anyone, not like they could. To you, it wasn’t fair. You couldn’t even shift during the full moon to run with your pack, spending those nights staring at the moon with tears in your eyes as you listened to your pack sing songs. Now that you were in your early twenties, you wondered if your soulmate would ever find you, especially after all the Alphas that had come to meet you since you’d presented Omega at fourteen, had turned their noses away from your scent.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

As always each chapter will have warnings.

Note: Pack dynamics, Typical A/B/O dynamics with a twist, full moon shifting, Set in modern times, lots of angst, longing, SMUT - probably. Each chapter will have its own warnings.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet, as I am not actively writing it at the moment.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

As always, if you'd like to be tagged, drop me a comment.

Forever Tag List: @roseblue373 @flamencodiva @reignsboy19 @stillhere197 @foxyjwls007

@hobby27 @megs-gadom @cheekygirl2309

Tag List: @nancymcl @lovelydisc @luahmeeks @alternativeprincess94

[holylulusworld]

One autumn night - Flufftober 10

Summary: Dean and you make a home together.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Square 25 filled for @warmandfluffybingocards: Carry you to bed

Square 2 filled for @jacklesversebingo: Bubbles

Warnings: a/b/o, fluff

Trope: a/b/o

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

A few months ago, …

“Why do we need a bathtub?” Dean cocks his head to watch you climb into a bathtub at Costco. “You only sit in your stink and dirt. A shower is much better. You jump under the spray, get clean and you don’t need all the fancy bath foam.”

“But—” you pucker your lips and sniffle. “What about the bubbles? I love long bubble baths and bath bombs. We could have a large bathtub and bathe together. You can scrub my back and I can snuggle into your chest.”

Dean licks his lips. He looks at the bathtub again, suddenly eager to join you. Your alpha climbs into the bathtub, humming. “Not bad. But this one is too small. We’ll need a bigger one.”

“Right! Especially if Sammy wants to use it too,” you point out. You’ve got your alpha where you want him and won’t go home without buying a bathtub. 

"Sammy got stinky feet, and we won't let him use our bathtub."

“We can have a shower too.” You look around the store. “You know, to shower together.”

“Uh-huh,” he nods thoughtfully. “You know, shower sex is complicated and dangerous, sweetheart.”

“So, it’s decided. We are going to get a bathtub and a shower,” you conclude. “The question is, which one do we want to buy?”

Now, …

You decided on a corner sunken tub for your corner master bathroom. It’s large enough for you and Dean. And with windows on both sides, you have a perfect view of the garden while taking a bath.

Dean built the rustic log cabin compound with his own hands. And a little help from his brother. Sam has a cabin close by. Even though you stopped hunting a few years ago, your home is warded. You’re out of business, but the demons and monsters lurking in the dark didn’t get the message.

“What do you think?” you lean back against Dean’s chest and sigh. He doesn’t answer, busy running his hands up and down your arms. “Dean? It’s a great bathtub, right?”

“It was a lot of work,” he grumbles. “At least it was worth the hard work. I got my sweet omega. Naked…”

“Dean,” giggling you slap his thigh. “I don’t want to get dirty again. Keep your hands to yourself, Mr. Winchester.”

“Ma’am you got into the bathtub with me. Of course, I’ll try to touch the sweet omega snuggling into my chest.”

“You’re insatiable.”

“I’m irresistible.” 

“That you are.” 

“The water is getting cold, sweetheart. We should get out,” he kisses your shoulder. “I know you like the bathtub, but we don’t want to freeze.”

You sigh but slowly get out of the bathtub.

Dean wraps you in a fluffy towel to gently rub you dry. “You smell so good. I could eat you alive.” He sniffs at your neck. “But I’ll bring you to the bathroom first.”

He wraps his arms around your back and behind your knees to pick you up in bridal style. Dean holds you close to his body as you nuzzle your face in his shoulder. 

“I’m a little cold,” you mumble sleepily. 

“I’ll warm you up, Y/N,” Dean walks a little faster toward the bedroom. It’s warm and cozy inside. He made sure of it. “There we go.”

He carefully puts you on the bed. “I can dress myself, Dean,” you laugh as he wants to help you get dressed. “Dean!”

“Alright…alright. But hurry up and get under the covers. I want you warm and comfortable.”

You change into your nightie and crawl under the covers. Dean follows suit, immediately wrapping you in his strong arms.

“That’s perfect.” You sigh happily.

“That it is, sweetheart. That it is…”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[winchester-girl67]

Cravings (Part 2)

Summary: Post-claim, Dean and the reader enjoy a lazy day at her place when she tells him that she wants to bite him back.

Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x pregnant!reader

Square: True mates @spnaubingo​

Word Count: 3,529

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, non-traditional true mates, pregnant reader (Dean is not the father), unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, morning sickness, mentioned/implied one night stand, mature themes, smut adjacent touching/kissing/cuddling, implied smut, light/brief smut, language, mostly fluff

A/N: For those of you who wanted more of these two. Sorry this took so long, I haven't been able to write much lately. Also written for @spnaubingo​. Enjoy!

_____

"Hmm, you like that?"

"Oh my gosh... Yes, Alpha. Harder!" You ordered and he happily obliged.

Then you whimpered, your foot jerked and Dean froze, "Are you okay, Y/N? Is it too much?"

"Don't stop," You sing-songed and he chuckled between purrs as he continued to circle his thumbs. "Right there, so strong, Alpha. I love you."

"Wow, you're really enjoying this," he hummed, taking pleasure in giving you pleasure.

"Mhm," you nodded, "I can't remember the last time someone massaged my feet. This feels A-MA-ZING!"

Your hums started to vibrate in your chest, you couldn't remember a time where anyone had been this attentive with you. Your eyes watered a little but you were too content to let the tears fall.

The pregnancy had your feet and ankles so swollen already and you didn't even have to say anything for Dean to notice. One of the many benefits of your new bond. He just felt what you felt and vice versa.

Even during Dean's rut -which only lasted a couple days, just long enough to get you both out of spending Christmas with family- when he mated you for the first time, he was tender and loving. You tried to present for him but he flipped you over onto your back, wanting to feel every inch of what was about to be his. Forever. Every promise of what your future together held.

Then he bit and you were claimed.

That was near two weeks ago now and Dean hadn't spent a single night at his house since. All that was left was to officially move him into your house and make it a home.

There was really no reason to wait, no second thoughts on the claiming from either of you either. Dean agreed to move since he knew moving a pregnant omega could be upsetting and enough had already changed quite quickly. He was just happy you accepted the change; having an alpha in your life, in your house, when you said you never wanted one.

Dean was different, though. He wasn't your typical breed, you would've thought alphas like him didn't exist anymore; if he wasn't currently digging his fingers into your flesh in the most pleasurable -non-sexual, for the most part- way right now.

You didn't have to let him claim you, because he would never force you, and he was determined to show you he loved you endlessly for it. For choosing him.

Your house was also slightly bigger and had your scent infused into the walls and carpeting. It wasn't a hard sell to a rutting alpha at the time. Plus, this way he would be able to sell his house to his brother who'd been searching for a home for a while with his mate. They were trying to expand their family themselves, but hadn't had much luck lately.

Dean talked about his little brother a lot but you hadn't met him, or Jess. Sam and Dean planned to move over his stuff soon though, so you'd get to meet them then.

You were nervous because Sam wasn't apparently all that thrilled about you joining their pack without being introduced to you first. Dean explained that it had less to do with you and more to do with his dating history. Dean's past with omegas rivalled yours with alphas. Apparently the wrong omegas take advantage of tender alphas.

He was your forever. You wouldn't do anything to hurt him, you were a team, a partnership and you're supposed to build and grow together not tear each other down. Sam would see that when he met you.

Dean's hands slid up your legs, his strong fingers massaging the muscles of your calves and you felt like you were melting back into the couch. All you could think of was watching him make bread yesterday at the bakery. The way he folded and kneaded the dough in front of you. Except now you were the dough and his palms gripped and molded the soft flesh of your legs.

You never wanted this to stop.

You didn't even notice when you completely sunk onto your back, lengthways, until Dean's hands slid higher up your legs to your hips as he crawled over you. One of his palms felt the skin of your inner thigh as he pushed up your maternity dress with the other, revealing your swollen belly.

"Fuck. You're a sight, sweetheart." He sighed happily, sitting between your legs and holding a palm on your bump.

The pup rolled and Dean followed the movement until he felt a little kick on the side of your stomach. He purred so loud you almost thought he was growling, if it wasn't for his almost unbearably sweet scent -it was a far turn from the salty musk when you first met him, he was happy now- and he bent over you to place a kiss to your belly, below your navel and to the side. You loved him like this, already bonding with the pup as if it were his own.

As far as you both were concerned, the pup was his now; blood had nothing to do with it. His claim included every extension of you, you could feel it. You were a family.

Gosh, he was a beautiful man. If more alphas were like him, less omegas would feel the need to suppress their natural cycles. You often wondered how nobody snatched him up before you did. You were beyond thankful no one did.

"You're carrying high," Dean determined, feeling up your stomach with both hands.

"And," you laughed and caught his wrists as he roamed higher up your dress towards your swollen breasts.

"That means, it's a girl." He smiled softly and leaned over you to kiss you on the lips as he held your ribs. You hadn't found out the pup's gender yet, you wanted to be surprised. "I fucking love you. So fucking much. Fuck."

Tears welled in his forest green eyes and he swallowed his purrs with his emotions. He cleared his throat and kissed you again. His mouth hugged your bottom lip with a quiver and his tongue licked the tip of your nose when he pulled away. He didn't like letting you see his emotions get the best of him and he was trying to distract you, but with the bond you felt everything he was feeling. Fear and excitement but mostly a need for comfort, a reassurance in your new bond.

You tangled your fingers in his soft hair and moved his head to the crook of your neck, where your mating gland was. He turned his face and pressed his nose to the claim, inhaling and fermenting your bond instantly with a single scent.

A calm rushed over him and you tugged him up by his hair for a needy kiss. Dean groaned, his chest heating and lungs rumbling against you with a violent, growling purr.

"Alpha," you whimpered against his lips, wanting more of him.

He gave 'alpha' every meaning of the word.

Instinct took him over and he pushed your dress up your chest, exposing your breasts. His lips found your puckered flesh as he massaged the tension from your sensitive mounds.

Forget dough, you were putty in his massive and capable hands. His fingers worked every inch of you like he read your mind. But you still whimpered, needing more.

"I know, Omega, I know." He cooed, "I got you, baby. It's okay."

He tugged your panties down your legs, throwing them aside to the floor and slotted himself back between your thighs. His sweatpants, still separating your skin from each other and you snapped at him.

Dean laughed and leaned over to kiss you again.

You scented him and your teeth ached with a need to claim him -which you still hadn't done, it didn't need to be done to cement the bond and alphas typically didn't like to bear a claiming mark- but you refrained, now wasn't the time. You didn't want him to reject the claim, so you'd bring it up when your heads were clearer.

You clenched your jaw shut instead and enjoyed his touch.

After your little romp in the living room, you watched Dean make dinner as he strained the pot of spaghetti over the sink.

"D," you said, "you do know that carrying high doesn't mean anything, right? It's an old wives' tale. We could still be having a boy."

"I know," he shrugged, rinsing off the pasta and shutting off the element to the stove, turning the second one down to let the tomato sauce simmer. "I just have a gut feeling."

You knew Dean wanted a girl, a little princess to spoil rotten, but you wouldn't be heartbroken if you got a little prince instead. Either way, you could always try again for the one you didn't get. You always wanted to fill your home with lots of pups, eventually move out to the country with a picket fence, a big yard for them to run wild in and a long driveway to learn how to ride their bikes.

It was a dream you gave up on long ago but Dean revived it just by being himself.

"How much do you think I eat?" You gawked at the super-sized bowl of pasta Dean served you.

You were a little over five months pregnant, but it was still a lot of food.

"The pup needs the nutrition. Just eat what you can." He said and kissed your forehead.

Dean spooned some sauce on top of your mountain of spaghetti, holding the lid of the pot under the spoon as he did so. You beamed up at him, getting butterflies like the first day you knocked on his door and padding away to the table with your bowl of pasta like a trophy.

Dean was the real trophy, but you liked the food, too.

He served himself next, using a plate instead because he liked to cut the noodles. You told yourself it was because he was a baker, not a chef; a real chef would never cut spaghetti. You liked the bowl because it made less of a mess when you twirled the noodles onto your fork.

Dean joined you at the table and hummed around his food, clearly happy with his recipe. You, on the other hand, thought something was missing after your first forkful. It just tasted off.

"Something wrong with the food, sweetheart?" He mumbled, slurping bits of spaghetti back into his mouth that tried to escape as he spoke. "Want me to make you something else?"

"No, no," you waved him off, the man was catering to no end when it came to your cravings. "It's just missing something."

You padded back to the adjoined kitchen and Dean studied you as you searched the cupboards, not really even sure yourself what you were looking for.

Until you found it.

You made your way back over to the table with your prize in hand. A clear plastic case, housing round, golden-wrapped, hazelnut and wafer chocolates. Dean stared with a grin plastering his cheeks as you unwrapped three of them and stuck them on top of your pasta mountain.

The chocolate immediately started to melt in the heated tomato sauce and it smelt heavenly. Your mouth watered and you sniffed the air above your bowl.

"Mmm," Dean hummed hesitantly like he wasn't sure if that was going to satisfy you or make you sick, but he didn't stop you.

You twirled equal amounts spaghetti and melted-chocolate-meatball onto your fork, shoving it into your mouth before it fell into your lap. You chewed for a moment -watching Dean take another bite of his chopped meal and swallow- before you decided you couldn't and spit it back into your bowl.

"Yuck," you groaned, wiping the taste from your tongue with your palm. "Ugh. Sorry, D, I can't eat this."

That was not heavenly tasting, it was disgusting.

"That's all right, tell me what you want instead and I'll make it." He said, standing from his seat to give you a peck on the cheek and clear away your plate when you heaved at the smell.

Morning sickness never really went away, it just got sneakier.

Your tastebuds were off today and Dean made a series of your favourites, which you ultimately couldn't eat, before you settled on toast. After your first slice, though, you followed your nose and let the pup tell you what it wanted, that included toast with a dollop of honey and a mashed banana spread.

Dean reheated his meal, finally content you had something to eat and smiled at his happy omega.

After dinner, you crawled into your king-sized bed to watch a little TV comfortably with your mate. The nest of blankets and pillows had only gotten bigger with the addition of Dean's bedding -which he'd been slowly moving over a little at a time, same with his clothing, which packed the walk-in closet full of flannels. The rest of his stuff was left waiting for Sam to come by to help, although you suspected most of Dean's furniture would be left behind for his brother, who was living in an apartment at the moment and didn't have a lot of furniture to begin with.

You snuggled into Dean, barely giving him any room to get comfortable and threw your leg over his, pushing your knee into the space between his thighs so your hips hugged his leg. Dean was used to being used as your body pillow by now and he purred, nuzzling the top of your head. He flipped on a baking competition show for some background noise and you placed your hand over his heart to feel the strong thump against your palm.

A calm washed over you that you knew came from him and the claim and you lightly scratched your nails over his ribs lovingly. Your alpha was content and you fucking loved being able to feel every emotion without having to scent him like before. That being said, you still loved the sweet, warm scent of him when he was truly happy.

You slid your hand under his shirt and palmed the love handle above his hip. Squishy, warm flesh filled your palm and you dug your nails in possessively. Dean growled when you gripped a little too hard. He was all muscle but he didn't need to be sculpted with rock hard abs to prove it, he was soft and hard in all the right places and you loved his tummy.

"You okay, Y/N?" Dean asked and stopped purring.

You realized he was probably picking up on a little insecurity coming from you. You didn't even notice that was what you were feeling until he asked. Something was on your mind though.

"D, do you think we're true mates?" You asked, nuzzling his scruffy chin with your nose.

"Honestly, I don't know." Dean wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to lay half on top of him.

You tried to adjust your swollen belly so you weren't making him uncomfortable but he just tugged you back in closer. Your leg still nestled between his but your bump now pressing into his hip.

"But," you started but stopped and instead laid your head on his big shoulder.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

You couldn't hide anything off feeling with this bond, that was going to take some getting used to.

"What if another omega comes along and they're your true true mate, meanwhile you've already claimed me?" You muttered, brushing your fingers over his unmarked mating gland.

Typically only omegas bore the claim, but you would've liked him to have one, too. A mark that meant he was yours.

"I. Love. You."

"But-"

"No buts. It's a fairytale, Omega." He growled, not liking your implication.

You pulled your hand away from his gland and wiggled your hips until he released you and let you roll onto your side, facing away from him. It didn't happen often, but you didn't like when he took that tone with you.

The alpha tone.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just don't want you ever to think I'll leave you, for any reason. I love you, that means something to me." He sighed and rolled over to tuck you into his chest as he spooned you from behind. He kissed the crown of your head and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you grounded to him. "I mean, it's a little ridiculous to think that an alpha and omega will find and make each other happy just because it was meant to happen and they're instantly attracted to each other. If true mates are real, and that's a big 'IF', it's just about compatibility but even compatible people need to put work into their relationship. There's zero guarantee of a perfect romance, no matter what, and just because you're true mates, doesn't mean you'll make each other happy. A neglected mate is a neglected mate, despite the amount of stars that had to align in order to pair them together. So let me ask you this, are you happy with me, Omega?"

"Absolutely, I am." You sniffled and found his hand on your waist, sliding your fingers between his large ones. "Are you happy with us, Alpha?"

"Incredibly so." He kissed down your cheek and nuzzled your claim, teasing it with his teeth. You shivered and purred softly at his nips. "Then to answer your original question... because I'm happy and I know we'll never give up on each other even on our worst day, despite our imperfections, and because I am truly, deeply, helpless in love with you. Both of you." He moved your entwined hands to rest on your bump, "Yes, I believe that makes us true mates... And it doesn't hurt that you smell so good."

"I wanna bite you," you breathed.

Dean laughed hard and his chest shook against your back, "What was that, my little Omega?"

You hardly felt little these days, being practically swollen everywhere, but you liked the way he saw you.

"I want to claim you, too." You explained and turned in his arms to face him.

He brushed the hair from your cheek behind your ear, "We're already bonded, Y/N, it won't change anything if that's what you're thinking. The bond only cements feelings that are already there and links us together through our emotions, we already have that."

"I know, but- I just always told myself that if I was claimed, I would claim my alpha back." You said, wetting your lips and circling your fingertips over his gland again.

"You want to claim me, for the sake of claiming me?"

"I want to claim you because when you marry, you both wear rings." You murmured, placing small kisses over his gland and trying to entice him.

"We could just get married-"

"Is my big alpha afraid of a little bite?" You chuckled against his skin and you felt him flush against your lips.

"Pfft, no." He said unconvincingly.

"I'll make it enjoyable," you promised, pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. "You won't even feel it."

It wasn't a lie. If you claimed him the same way he claimed you, it would feel like a pinch at most. You nipped at his neck and felt a nervous shiver race through his body, your teeth nibbling his flesh.

"I won't do it if you don't want me to." You kissed the burning skin covering his mating gland and he shuttered again.

"I want you to claim me, Omega." He said and you met his gorgeous, green eyes. Then he teased, "Just, please, be gentle. It's my first time, sweetheart. But I trust you, baby."

He pushed his sweatpants down and your nightie up to your hips, then rocked into you and before long, you fell into him and bit. Your claim marring the perfect, freckled skin of his neck beautifully.

You licked at the mark as you laid on top of him, satiated as you cleaned away the few drops of blood despite the gross copper taste on your tongue. He'd done the same for you with your claim, something in the saliva of alphas and omegas help it heal quicker and not get infected.

You hummed against him, your belly pressing into his and your breasts flattened against his ribcage. Both your chests rumbling with a harmonized purr.

None of this was in the cards for you, not if you thought about it months ago. It's incredible how much can change in such a short amount of time.

"I still wanna marry you," Dean murmured in your ear.

His nose trailed down to your neck and buried into your scent. Dewy skin making the smell stronger as big hands roamed up your nightie and over your bare back. He held you to him gently like you'd float away if he let go, or pop if he held too tight.

Dean was a gentle giant of an alpha and he was all yours.

"Okay."

_________________________

Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Cravings: @hogwarts--imagines

[angelsberrymilk]

Alpha!Dean who's sooooo convinced he's going to fuck a pretty Omega when she tells him to stay the night at her place to thank him for getting rid of a vengeful spirit.

like obvs he follows her and gets surprised, like shocked that he only gets a kiss and she tells him that she wants to try something with him.

and he's like "uhhhh, okay." raised brow and all and a little bit suspicious.

and she proceeds to tell him abt how she read in a book that Omegas hundred of years back used to let Alphas sleep in their nest when they were back from war, quest or trip to provide comfort, it could be like platonic or romantic. it was like a way to tell the Alphas that they were home and safe. like some sort of Aroma Therapy.

and Dean doesn't know whether she's joking or not and gives her a look close to puppy eyes like "wait, so no pussy? 🥺" lmaooo

and she doesn't say anything and promises him that he smells like he needs it. he reeks of discomfort, of the leather from his car seat, sweat, dirt, blood you name it. and she's convinced that it's the best way to thank him cuz he needs it. like bad.

she makes him shower before he even thinks of sitting on her bed with his outside/demon hunting clothes. and then omd, he gets in her bed and she like tucks him in and he's so weirded out but he kinda likes it, and the Omega's pretty so he's not gonna complain like a fucking moron.

And she stays next to him, tells him a little about herself and their town, abt the different posters hung in her room and some bands she listens to, and when she notices he's getting more and more comfortable in her soft fluffy blankets, she gives him a forehead kiss and turns off the lights and leaves to sleep over at her friends house.

and Oh. My. God.

when I tell you Dean slept like a fucking baby, he passed the fuck out when he realised she was being serious abt him sleeping in her bed for the night. he slept so good he didn't even dream, he slept so good he didn't wake up at night, not even once, he passed right the fuck out in her bed, high off Omega scent. and she smelled good. like really good.

when he finally came to in the morning, it took him a while to fully wake up, and he noticed that he drooled a bit in his sleep and wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. he was warm, comfortable, in a heaven of fluffy blankets, sweet Omega scent, and plushies apparently. His hair was actually sticking out even tho it was short and spiky and he had marks on one side of his face from the pillow.

and most importantly he felt really good. like really really good. it was probably the best night of sleep he's ever had these past few years.

when he finally makes his way downstairs, he finds Sam and the Omega at the table, clearly waiting for him to wake up to have breakfast together. and Sam's brow just raises a little bit and notices his brother's slow movements, slow steps, like he's been floating away in clouds make out of cotton candy. or like he's being fucked so good he's still woozy from it. who knows.

[masoena]

Your Moon Holding Up My Sky

Interrupting regular daily scheduled Kinktober programming for @girlsvmonsters and my contribution to the @wincestbigbang which starts posting today. Title: Your Moon Holding Up My Sky Author: @masoena Artist: @girlsvmonsters Other Pairing: None mentioned Rating: Explicit Warnings/Spoilers: Graphic Depictions of Violence/Omegaverse

Link to Fic: AO3 || Link to Art: Tumblr

Summary: Sam and Dean make it back from the Bad Place (S13E09) with minor scratches but as the weeks move on, Sam becomes ever more protective of Dean and flies of the handle far more easily than is normal for him. When Dean is hurt during a hunt things come to a head and they dive into research trying to work out what led to Sam being not only more possessive and territorial over Dean but before they can really work out what is happening a fundamental change happens to Sam that puts Dean in danger. How can the reconcile what Sam has become with the lives they lead?

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.37

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Violence.

Bamby

Sam was being weird. While Dean ordered the coffees and food, you stood with the younger brother and couldn’t help notice that something was off. He was wriggling around like there was something in your pants.

“Thank you.” Dean nodded to the guy who handed him the coffees before he turned to lead your little group away. As you all walked to a table, he noticed Sam’s wriggling. “Dude what's your problem?”

“Nothing, I'm fine,” Sam insisted.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Letting it go, Dean got back to the job. “So, ahhh, all right keep going. What about these Tulpas?”

Putting his bag on the table, Sam took a seat as he started to explain, “Ok, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualised a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.”

“So?” Dean asked.

Before you could take a seat for yourself, Dean pulled your chair closer to his. You frowned for a short moment before shrugging and plopping yourself into the chair. His arm rested behind it as the two of you sipped at your drinks while Sam spoke.

“That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard.” Sam pulled his computer out of his bag before starting it up.

“Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?”

You shrugged, answering Dean’s question, “How do monsters happen? Maybe people just believe hard enough and then we’ve got bad guys under beds and in closets.”

Dean didn’t look convinced though. “People believe in Santa Claus. How come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?”

“Cuz you're a bad person.” Sam gave him a pointed look before turning his computer to Dean. “And because of this… That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai ... I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.”

“It would explain why he keeps changing,�� Dean agreed.

Wriggling again, Sam ignored whatever was annoying him as he went on, “Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work.”

“Yeah because he's not a traditional spirit.” Dean nodded. “Ok. So why don't we just...uhh ... get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?”

Sam sighed, “Well it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own.”

“Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

“Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage. Since they've posted the video their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

“Hmph.” Dean considered things for a moment before he reached over and closed Sam’s laptop. “I got an idea. Come on.” His hand fell into yours, leading you up and off your chair as Sam gathered his things.

“Where we going?”

“We gotta find a copy store,” Dean answered, handing you your coffee from the table.

Groaning, Sam tried gathering his things as quickly as possible but he couldn’t stop fidgeting. “Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something.” It was then that Dean cracked a smirk and started laughing. Sam turned to him, unimpressed. “You did this? You're a friggin jerk!”

“Oh yeah,” Dean continued to chuckle as he led you away.

It seemed as if their games weren’t over just yet.

…

Dean stepped up to the trailer and paused a moment, looking back at you and Sam before he knocked on the door. There was a pause inside before someone called out.

“Who is it?”

“Come on out here guys, we hear you in there,” he called back to them. There was another pause before the door opened, revealing two guys. “Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging. What a shock.”

You’d never met the ghost hunters Sam and Dean had told you about yet. You’d gathered they were nerdy and awkward… you also assumed they’d be Beta. You, of course, were right. But they were still males and once they spotted you, they paused whatever insults they’d been ready to throw at the brothers.

“Guys, we need to talk,” Sam started, ignoring the way they were staring at you.

The dark haired one slapped the other, murmuring something about the guys bringing a chick. The other swallowed around the thick nothing in his throat as he tried not to wobble on the spot.

Trying to save face, the one with glasses pretended to be brave as he shrugged. “Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now,” he noted as he stepped out of the trailer.

“Ok well we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website,” Dean told them simply.

Glasses laughed. “Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell…”

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright,” the other added.

“Why should we trust you guys?”

Sam sighed, “Look guys. We all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai.”

“That's right.” Dean nodded. “Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Glasses rolled his eyes.

The other one, however, looked uncertain. “Ed, maybe he's got a point, maybe...”

“Nope…” Clearly Glasses- Ed- ran the show. “We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth.”

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now-”

Lifting your hand, you pressed it against Dean’s chest to stop him. “Just forget about it, okay? I know you could toss them around like ragdolls, and I could tell them what I found out about Mordechai, but nothing we do will make them help us.” You sighed, “Let’s just go.”

The nerds were suddenly very intrigued.

“Whoa.. whoa…” Ed stepped towards you.

Dean ignored him, looking down at you with a shrug. “Yeah, you're right.”

As the three of you started towards Baby again, the two Betas followed, both of them fumbling over each other’s sentences.

“What you say about...?”

“Hang on a second here.”

“Wait...wait.”

“What thing about Mordechai you guys?”

Reaching the car, Dean reached for your door as he turned to you. “Don’t say anything, sweetheart.”

You paused and sighed, glancing over your shoulder at the Betas with your best sweet eyes. “But if they agree to shut the website down…

“They're not going to do it, you said so yourself,” Dean noted.

Ed stepped forward then, trying his best to look determined and trustworthy. “No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it.”

Chewing your lip, you pretended to consider it as you looked at the two of them. “Promise you’ll shut it down?” you asked, doe eyes in full effect.

“Totally,” Ed promised.

Smiling brightly at him, you reached into your jacket pocket and pulled out the fake death certificate you and Sam had made together at the library earlier. “It's a death certificate,” you started. “From the '30s. We got it at the library.

“Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound,” Sam added.

Dean nodded. “That's right he didn't hang or cut himself.”

The one that wasn’t Ed looked shocked. “He shot himself?”

“Yep.” Sam nodded. “With a .45 pistol. To this day they say he's terrified of them.”

“Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds…” Dean paused for dramatic effect before adding, “it'll kill the son of a bitch.”

The three of you watched as the two Betas took the bait. Scurrying off with the fake birth certificate, they hurried back to their trailer, trying to remain cool but completely failing.

Just like that… the plan was in motion.

…

Sitting in a diner, munching on your shared fries with Dean, you watched as Sam reached up to turn off the mechanical fisherman hanging from the wall above your table.

“If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you,” he warned his brother.

Moving fast, Dean pulled the string again, making the fisherman laugh. Sam snatched at the string, shutting it up.

Dean chuckled. “Come on man, you need more laughter in your life. You know you're way too tense.”

“Not too tense.” You grinned, plopping a fry in your mouth.

Dean looked from you to his brother and back, a smirk of his own forming. “You’re a little vixen.” Leaning in, he caught your lips in a kiss as the two of you grinned against each other, his teeth tugging on your lip before he pulled back. Sighing, he turned to Sam again. “They post it yet?”

Without words, Sam turned his computer around, showing you and Dean the new post about Mordechai and his ‘found’ death certificate. You were pretty pleased with the handiwork.

Dean shrugged. “We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. All right. How long do we wait?”

“Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker,” Sam answered.

“Sweet.” Dean nodded, reaching for his beer. He took a swig and went to put it back down, but found his hand stuck to the bottle. His eyes grew wide, knowingly. “You didn't.”

Sam laughed, pulling out superglue from his pocket. “Oh, I did!”

“You two are impossible.” You rolled your eyes at them, but even you couldn’t help but admit that it was funny.

…

Sitting in Baby, a distance away from Mordechai’s house so you were safe, but close enough so you could see the house in the distance, you held your gun in your lap. The brothers felt better bringing you at night now that you could protect yourself with the gun. But they still didn’t want you in the house.

Watching the place, you waited with baited breath, hoping that they would simply walk out any second now with a job well done.

But the longer you waited… the worse you felt.

Gunshots went off, causing you to jump where you sat. You didn’t move, though. You’d been expecting the gunshots, it was the plan… what you weren’t expecting was the brothers to not leave the house right away.

Something was wrong.

Throwing the car door open, you didn’t bother closing it as you hurried for the house. Throwing the door open, you could hear noise from around the corner. It sounded like Sam struggling.

Moving as fast as your feet would let you, you ran around the corner and found Sam being held against the wall, with the hilt of an axe being dressed against his throat as an imposing man pressed it against his airway.

“Sam!” Lifting your gun, you aimed it at the man who you could only assume was Mordechai before you pulled the trigger.

Mordechai stumbled at the impact of the bullets, but nothing more happened. Letting Sam go, which had him drop to the floor, Mordechai then turned to you. His face pulled into a grin as your eyes went wide… you were in danger.

Stalking towards you with heavy feet, Mordechai lifted his axe and took aim. You flinched, ducking down quickly as he swung the axe. It landed in the rotting wood of the wall, getting stuck momentarily.

“Hey!”

Looking behind you, you spotted Dean with an aerosol can and his lighter at the ready. Scurrying out of the way, you hurried over to him as Mordechai pulled his axe free. He didn’t get the chance to use it, though, before Dean set the can alight, turning it into a flamethrower.

“Go go go!”

Sam hurried over to us, staying low, before he helped me to my feet. Dean was close behind as we all started for the front door.

“Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him.” Dean shrugged. “We improvise.”

Lifting his lighter again, Dean then tossed it on the ground from the direction we’d come from. Flames engulfed the ground where he’d apparently poured something that was highly flammable. 

Then the three of you were running, hurrying out of the now burning house. Neither of you stopped until you were on the other side of the bushes.

“That's your solution?” Sam looked at his brother like he was insane. “Burn the whole damn place to the ground?”

“Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works,” Dean had a good point.

Sam didn’t look impressed. “Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?”

“Well…” Dean clearly hadn’t thought that over, but he hadn’t had the time to. “Well then we'll just have to come back.”

It was the best option there was.

…

Back at the trailer park, the three of you were waiting and watching as Ed and his friend- who you now knew was called Harry- started towards your little group. They were carrying supplies, clearly ready for a long road trip. There was a smug look about them, more smug than usual.

“Gentlemen, lady.” Ed nodded to the three of you.

“Hey guys.”

“Should we tell 'em?” Harry asked Ed.

Ed shrugged. “Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades.”

With that being a good enough answer, Harry turned back to the rest of you. “So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

“Oh yeah, wrong number?” Dean grinned.

Ed glared at him. “No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.”

“And create the RPG,” Harry added.

“The what?”

You leaned closer to Dean to answer his question, “Role playing game.”

Looking more pleased with himself, Ed continued towards their car. “Anyhoo, ahhh, excuse us, we're off to la-la land.”

As we followed them, Sam spoke up, “Well congratulations guys. That sounds really great.”

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “That's awesome, best of luck to you.”

“Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent.” Ed was so full of himself. “Later.”

The two of them piled into their car before driving off.

Watching them leave, Dean scoffed. “Wow.” Shaking his head, he started towards Baby. You followed, slipping your hand into his.

Sam wasn’t too far behind. “I have a confession to make.”

“Hmm?” You looked to your left as he fell into step with you and his brother.

Sam shrugged. “I, uh...I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.” A sheepish grin found its way onto his lips.

Dean stopped in his tracks and laughed a full belly laugh. “Yeah well I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat.”

The two of them cracked up, laughing hard together. You couldn’t help but join them, agreeing that out of all the pranks they’d ever played, they were the two best ones.

“Truce?” Sam offered once you all calmed down.

“Yeah truce,” Dean agreed. “At least for the next 100 miles.”

Bamby

[zepskies]

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…

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[suckerforlovesblog]

A perfect match?

Everything was different when you opened your eyes. Everything was different once again. Without knowing where you were, you sat up, rubbed your tired eyes and took a look around you. A pair of bright green eyes starred back at you through the dark. Hearing a deep rumbling voice saying that everything is fine now , you felt a shiver run down your spine and everything turned. The darkness welcomed you back once again…

Series warning: ABO Dynamics, Smut, Unprotected PIV , Scenting, Knotting, Language, age gap, Claiming, Breeding Kink

Series Masterlist:

Chapter 1: Why is nothing staying the same?

Chapter 2: Where am I?

Chapter 3: What now?

Chapter 4: Where are we going?

Chapter 5: Why don’t you care for me?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Ranger (Part 3)

Summary: The reader and Dean are in trouble as they come face to face with the person who's been pulling the strings all this time...

Masterlist

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 2,800ish

Warnings: language, angst, mentions of murder/manipulation

A/N: Please enjoy the finale!

_______

“Stand down!” a voice shouted, holding up a closed fist. “He’s fucking feral!”

Feral? You reached a hand down between your thighs, pulling it back and grateful to find no blood. On the one hand, you were grateful Dean went feral. It was like a shit’s hit the fan reflex in an Alpha. Knots deflated instantly so pairs could escape danger. He would be stronger than five Alpha’s combined. Dean’s hair stood upright on every inch of his body, sense hyper aware of everything right now, searching of a way to protect his omega. 

But going feral meant that in a few hours, Dean’s body would force him to play catch up for going into overdrive and knock him out for a while to recover. You had to find a way out of this and fast.

“Are you fucking…” said a heavy sigh, your head popping out from behind Dean. Your heart skipped when one of the men ripped off his mask. “You fucking mated him? You let this fucker knot and claim you all the way didn’t-”

“Did, did you just come in here to try and kill my mate? My Alpha? My goddamn true mate?” you growled, stepping around Dean but held back by his extended arm. “If anyone takes a step towards him, I’ll kill you myself. I don’t care if you’re my dad or not. Don’t fuck with my mate.”

“He’s your dad?” said Dean, his scent threaded with a sharp twinge of heat, like burning ash, anger pulsing with every heartbeat. 

Your dad, turned his back, shaking his head. “Put on some damn clothes. We aren’t doing this right now.”

“Get these people out of my house and maybe I will,” you shot back. He grumbled but you watched as the others in the room walked out the broken front door, gathering at the far end of the front porch. The two of you dressed quickly, Dean always keeping an eye on you. Your dad grunted when he turned around, eyes narrowed at Dean. “Of course it had to be you, you sniveling little shit.”

“Dad, back off. What the fuck are you doing here?”

“He’s full of shit is what he is,” said Dean, picking you up before he stepped over the back of the couch to avoid the glass. He set you down by his side, careful to make sure you stayed behind him. “You were gonna kill your daughter’s true mate before we could cement it. The only reason I’m not dead right now is because it’d destroy her.”

“Why would you want to kill Dean? You told me he was innocent,” you said, brushing past Dean to join him at his side. He didn’t like that but he was the one in danger right now, not you. “Why?”

“Because you’re The Boss, aren’t you. You’re the one that gave out orders to my team lead for who to kill. Didn’t you?” Your dad stared at Dean, his jaw clenched. “Don’t deny it. I know there was someone above him calling the shots.”

“Listen you little shit,” he said, taking a step closer, resting his hand on his holster. “You don’t get to walk away from my business. You were all supposed to die that day but you lived. I let you live, Winchester, don’t forget that. I told the bureau you were a good kid with shitty luck to lose your whole team. I told them to help you get accepted to be a fucking forest ranger in the middle of bum fuck nowhere. I told them I’d watch out for you like the good person I am. I let you go, Dean. I let you think your little conspiracy theories were right. I was going to let you go but you just had to be her mate, didn’t you.”

“Touch her and I’ll-”

“I wouldn’t dare,” he snarled. “That’s my fucking daughter.”

He wiped a hand over his face, breathing deeply as Dean grabbed the back of your sweatpants, holding you close.

“Seeing as how killing you would make my own daughter hunt me down, I’m going to let you live.” Dean scoffed, your dad cocking his head. “Boy, don’t you think for one second if I hadn’t gotten here five minutes sooner you’d be still breathing. I won’t fuck up my own family but yours? I have no problem sending Sam and his little girlfriend a visit or your parents. You fucking work for me again and this time? You’re not hiding behind your team. You’re killing who I say when I say it.”

“No he isn’t.” You took a step forward, Dean’s grip still there. “In case you didn’t realize, those people you just threatened are my pack now. They are as much my family as you are. Dean let go of me.”

“Be careful,” he muttered, reluctantly dropping his hand. You raised your chin and took a few more steps, as close as you dared. He wouldn’t hurt you but you still couldn’t trust him.

“I know you love me, dad. If you didn’t, we wouldn’t be talking right now.” He shifted on his feet, keeping his face blank. “Today was supposed to be my day to spend with him. Today’s supposed to be the best day of my life and you stole that. He’s not a hitman. He’s my fucking soulmate and if you do not stop hurting him right this second, I will call her, call them both, and tell them everything.”

His lips parted as he took in the threat, the way you stood your ground. You honestly weren’t sure what he’d do. Clearly he wasn’t the easy going nice guy you’d always known him as which made your gut churn. But you’d deal with that later. Right now you needed this resolved.

“Well?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Am I calling them or what?”

He raised his hand and did a twirling motion with his finger. The people on the porch shared a look but you watched them retreat off into the woods. Your dad let out a long breath before crossing his arms back at you. “Alright. I will leave your…mate and his pack out of this. Happy?”

“What the fuck is going on?” mumbled Dean behind your back. 

“My dad has two mates. My mom and his true mate he met a few years ago,” you said, turning around for a closet down the hallway. You ripped it open to find a broom and dustpan, happily grabbing them before tossing them at your dad. “Clean up the mess you made.”

“Y/N,” he said, voice low and dangerous. “You don’t understand the kind of liability this kid is.”

“Clean. It. Up.” He grumbled but picked up the broom, sweeping the glass into a pile near his feet. “What Dean chooses to do is not your decision to make. You’re going to live with the consequences of your actions. Unless you want me to tell mom what kind of man you are? Tell Sasha who you are before you claim her?”

“You haven’t claimed your true mate?” asked Dean, your dad turning so his back was to your both as he worked. “How the hell did you hold off?”

“Dad always said it wasn’t fair to mom since he loves them both but when he met Sasha, he was strangely against it. Seeing as we both know just how hard it is to not claim a true mate, I’m going to guess it’s something else,” you said, glancing at Dean.

“He’s on Novi-Alpha,” said Dean, shaking his head. “You can’t claim her or you’ll kill her.”

“It’s why you moved out here away from mom for a ‘covert’ job huh? You don’t want your mates near you,” you said.

“Thanks for being such a sympathetic pup to the fact I have cancer,” he said, throwing the broom down. “For the record, miss know it all, I’ve been on Novi-Alpha for a decade. The kind I have is extremely aggressive. If I stay on it, the cancer stays away. Hopefully.”

“Hey,” you snapped back, holding up a finger. “I don’t want you to be sick. I don’t want to know that you’ve been…killing people for hire for who knows how long. I am so angry with you but do not think that means I want you dead.”

“Oh? What if he wants me dead?” asked your dad, nodding towards where Dean stood beside you. “You going to let him do that?”

Yes, I would. He’d forced Dean to be part of a group that relentlessly made him to be part of their hits. Maybe he hadn’t pulled a trigger or taken a life until it was his own team but he’d participated. Helped plan, coordinate. All against his will so his family would stay safe. So yeah. Dean could walk over there and kill him this second and you wouldn’t be more than a little upset. 

But you hid that gut instinct to yourself for the moment.

“This may come as a shock but I don’t like killing people unless it’s absolutely necessary.” Dean bent down, palm wrapping around the broomstick. He held it out to your dad, staring him dead on. “My friend is an oncologist. A good one. He’s the one that was giving me access to Novi-Alpha the past few years while I thought someone was hunting me.”

Dean nodded his chin, looking him up and down.

“It’s better than the basic crap your insurance covers. I could talk to him, see if we could get you on the new stuff. It might actually heal you and you could be with your mates again.”

“Why the fuck would you help me?” he asked. Dean glanced over his shoulder at you, giving him a smirk.

“You have a lot of making up to do with your daughter and your new pack family. We need you alive to do that,” said Dean. Your dad reached for the broom, Dean holding it back. “Why’d you kill in the first place?”

“Why do you think? When I was diagnosed, Novi-Alpha didn’t exist. I was trying to get money fast to pay off the house, pay that one’s student loans, make sure my family was taken care of. They didn’t know it could cure cancer when it first came out so I kept at it.”

“So you went Walter White on the situation,” said Dean, handing over the broom. “Maybe you ought to quit the business while you still have a family willing to take you back.”

Your dad pursed his lips, gaze wandering to you. “Not sure that’s possible anymore.”

“Probably not. But that’s your pup. You have two mates, one you’re overdue to claim. You owe them.” Dean turned, giving you a small smile. “You want to give him a second chance?”

“We’ll see. But first, you need to do something else for me.”

Three Months Later

“Good morning,” said your dad, hopping out of his truck as you sat on the front porch with a cup of coffee. “Surprisingly sunny today, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is, Harry,” you said, taking a long sip, eyeing him up and down. “Coffee?”

“No thanks, got some in the truck,” he said, Dean walking out the front door, adjusting his coat. “Dean.”

“Asshole,” said Dean with a smile, tilting his head. Your dad hid his frown well, Dean taking a seat across from you with his thermos. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Harry?”

“I uh, wanted you both to know I’m leaving town. I sat mom and Sasha down last week and…told them the truth about everything.” He kicked the dirt with his boot, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I was always worried about them getting along and now they’re closer than ever with how much they hate me. Guess I got what I wanted.”

“I’d try groveling,” said Dean, slurping up the steaming hot coffee with his best bitch face. “You’re starting to get good at it.”

“Yeah,” he laughed dryly, gaze shooting to you. “I need to go try to salvage something with my Omegas.”

“Sasha will let you back, eventually. She’s hardwired into you. Mom might be a different story, though,” you said. 

“I just wanted you girls to be okay when I was gone,” he said as you sighed. “Sorry. I know. Not an excuse.”

“I know you’re trying but you’re going to be making up for this the rest of your life. So go try with your mates. Dean and I will be fine on our own for awhile,” you said. 

“You still hate me,” he said. 

“Travel safe, Harry,” you said, your dad nodding before heading back for his truck. “I heard the new Novi-Alpha strain you’re on is working better.”

“Are you happy about that?” he asked.

“I’m not unhappy.” Dean reached over to take hold of your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Call once you’ve settled in back home.”

“Take care of her,” he said, Dean humming. With that, he was gone, down the gravel driveway and you could feel Dean relax beside you.

“He won’t do anything,” you said, raising your hand and running it through his brown strands. “S’okay, Alpha.”

“I know. He makes me nervous. S’like my body remembers going feral because of him and will always be on edge.” 

“I doubt he ever moves back here. Mom and Sasha are making him donate every penny he ever made from killing, volunteer, be a blood donor once he gets the all clear from his doctors, therapy, and a whole bunch of other stuff.”

“I like those two,” he chuckled, closing his eyes when you scrunched up your fingers against his scalp. “Oh, you’re making me want to go back to bed, Omega. A nice massage sounds like heaven right about now.”

“You are the sheriff. You can show up late you know,” you said, trailing your finger down the side of his cheek, tickling his jaw.

“Ugh, raincheck. I have a staff meeting at eight I’m supposed to run.” He nuzzled into your touch though, his breathing calm, steady. “Why’d you make your dad call the bureau and tell them to give me a job as a cop?”

“Because you’ll never get to go back to being an agent. Because you deserve to be able to help people how you always wanted to.” He inched closer, resting his head on your shoulder. “You never have to be The Ranger again.”

“I know,” he said, sighing against you. You frowned, reaching into his coat pocket to pull out his phone. He lifted his head when he saw you dial, watching you hold up a finger.

“Hey, Caleb, it’s Sheriff Winchester’s wife. Listen, Dean’s not feeling too great today so he’s calling in sick,” you said, Dean flashing wide eyes at you, trying to steal back the phone but you got up before he could. “Yeah it is too bad, just a touch of flu. Well he’ll be in tomorrow if he’s feeling better, alright? Take care.”

“Omega!” said Dean when you hung up, his hands on your hips as you shrugged with a smirk. “You…you…”

“Yes, sheriff?” you purred, scratching under his chin, scraping over the bonding gland in his neck. He mewled at the sensitive touch, losing the urge to turn into it. “What a good Alpha you are when you relax for me. Hopefully with Harry being gone you’ll relax more. I do love helping you relax.”

“I do like relaxing with you,” he mumbled when you squeezed his hip. “I…I still don’t like it when you call me a good person. It doesn’t feel right when I killed four people and researched how to-”

You pressed a hand to his mouth, Dean staring at you with soft green eyes.

“Think of it this way…you were doing what you had to to protect your pack, just like a good Alpha does. You are not a bad man, Dean Winchester.”

“How do you know that?” he whispered.

“Because I can feel your soul and yours is one of the best.” 

“Oh, Omega,” he said, voice smooth as honey, the sweet smell of cinnamon rolls in the air. “Your soul is my favorite too.”

“Want to finally relax?” you asked, sliding your hand down to his. He laced your fingers together, smiling when he found your face.

“Yeah. I think I finally can after all this time, Omega.” He pressed a kiss to your lips, grinning through it. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Alpha.”

_______

[lanevra]

Whatever the pink pills were, they seemed to take effect before they came within sight of the pastry shop. Beta became even more affectionate than before. She literally stomped on Alpha Gabriel like a vine, purring and giggling, and her pupils were like dinner plates. Dean wondered for a moment if she would even be able to get out of the limo, but strangely enough, she did. Not only that, she managed to put on a short black coat and grab a small gold purse that had been hidden somewhere between the seats. And she didn't have much trouble walking in high heels either, although she leaned against the Alphaa Gabriel the whole way to the entrance.

Dean walked at Castiel's side, his arm around his shoulders, turning from time to time to look at Sammy, who walked about a step behind them. Quiet and unassuming, as always, though he kept his head up and his shoulders straight, his chin jutting out with a determination that he showed the rest of the limo ride. And he managed to keep his pride and composure even when Gabriel laughingly asked him if he'd gotten 'it' going, and Dean was proud of him for that, even though he'd rather the oldest of the Alphas had kept his mouth shut.