#alpha!dean/omega!reader/alpha!sam

[stusbunker]

Tattered: The Prodigal’s Redemption

A SPN ABO Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean

Word Count: ~4575

Warnings, etc: Hospitals, at risk pregnancy, hormonal imbalances, amnesia, claiming, little bit of blood, Sam and Dean tag team smut, emotional sex.

Series Masterlist

Special shout out to @lastactiontricia​ for putting up with this series the entire time.

Sam

I’ve never been more grateful to be heading back to Bobby’s. Dean’s been an ass this entire case—- it wasn’t even a case, just infiltration and trying to secure a way in to end Dick Roman. But it took longer than we had hoped.

Though the IT girl, Charlie, seems to think it’s all doable. So, we’ve got that now that Garth has some sort of ancient spell tablet that is giving us some sort of direction. Thanks to a new prophet named Kevin. Poor kid.

The stress of being away from our Omega is making us both snippy, but Dean must be close to rut or something because I want absolutely nothing to do with him. His scent even seems off, which doesn’t make sense, I’ve been around him since he’s presented. He’s never smelled this— gross.

We’re driving through Sioux Falls when I get a text from Bobby and my stomach gives out.

“Turn around,” I might yell. 

Dean’s head whips around and he glares. I hit the call button and side eye him as I wait for Bobby to answer. “They’re at the hospital.”

“What?! Is she okay?!” Dean growls.

“I don’t know, Dean, that’s all Bobby said. ‘Meet us at SF General.’”

He pulls an illegal U-turn and floors it. Bobby doesn’t answer, but he texts again saying to not come stomping in. He gives me a room number. I know it’s her, otherwise she’d be the one texting us. I just don’t know if it’s the pups or —-

“They’re on the fourth floor. The Omega Health Pavillion.”

“Fucking hell. We never should have left,” Dean curses and changes lanes.

“Yeah, and who’s idea was it?” I remind him under my breath, trying not to crush my phone in the palm of my hand.

“Now’s not the time,” Dean warns, not taking his eyes off the road.

I chew on my words and let him get us there— to her. The hospital security are in our faces before we can make it to the elevators. I force myself to not rip their throats out. 

“Sorry, but, official business.” I flash a badge, not even sure which one it is and shove it in both guards’ faces.

“And him?” the older Alpha guard challenges, leering at Dean who is reeking of anxiety.

“I left mine in the car, tub-o, there’s an Omega in danger. Are you gonna let me go or do I have to call your boss?” Dean���s not doing any better than I am, but he’s also not trying to reel it in.

I glare at my brother over the guards’ heads. Dean rolls his eyes and waits out their unnecessary permission.

We could have just said we were next of kin. But two claims—- it’s not really heard of anymore. And they wouldn’t have let us both go. Or either of us.

I worry over the legalities of our situation as Dean punches the floor number on the elevator, forcing the doors closed.

“How long has she been here?” Dean asks like I know anything more than what I’ve told him.

I shrug. “Dunno. Bobby just texted.”

Dean stares at the screen with the increasing digits like it will speed up under the weight of Alpha fury. I try to keep the frustration out of my scent. Dean is too far panicked to pretend to be professional about anything anymore.

I’ve always hated the smell of hospitals, even though they keep the air purified and the surfaces sanitized, you can always smell death. Or loss. Fear is probably the most unrelenting, but it’s the most understandable. And I know we both leave a heavy wave of it behind on that elevator.

The nurse’s station doubles as the security checkpoint, and I can smell pregnant and lactating Omegas from all directions. Dean stops and waits as I check us in, forgoing the badge to keep them from asking more questions.

The nurse tells me, “follow me Dad, we’ll get you to your Omega.”

I nod in gratitude and pointedly don’t look at Dean as I follow her and her mauve scrubs down a corridor away from the scent of fresh pups, to another, shorter hallway blanketed in quiet vigil.

“Bobby?” Dean marches past the nurse when he spots him waiting outside her door. “What the hell happened?!”

Bobby nods at the nurse and she only pauses briefly to scent the air and leave us in peace. Then, finally, he explains. She’d been having more cramping and was feeling faint. He made her go in to check it out on Monday.

“Wait, Monday?! It’s Thursday, Bobby. Why are you telling us now?!” Dean says what I’m thinking.

“She didn’t want to worry you until we knew what was wrong,” Bobby shrugs, but I can tell he never liked the idea. He was just doing what she wanted.

“Is she awake?” I ask.

“I didn’t tell her you boys were on the way, she’s gonna be pissed that you’re pissed. So cool your jets before you burst in there, but I think having you back will at least even her out enough to get out of here.” Bobby sighs. “Or at least I hope so.”

I need more than his hunches. “What are the doctor’s saying?”

“Hormonal imbalance. Like the pregnancy is fighting her. Oh, by the way, there’s three pups. Which they’re also monitoring. Only like twelve-thirteen weeks along, so none of them are viable yet, but yeah.”

Bobby explains like he didn’t just completely break us both.

“Three?” Dean gapes.

Bobby cocks an eyebrow. “You wanted more?”

“I just— three?!” I am not processing this. We knew there was a chance of having multiples, especially with two Alphas, but that’s a lot—- 

“I’m going to check my messages and get some grub. I’ll check in before I head home.” 

“Of course, Bobby. Thank you.” I say before he walks away. 

Dean looks like he’s doing math in his head and I can’t really blame him. “What does he mean by viable?”

Oh.

I sigh and weigh my options. “It means they won’t survive outside of her, yet. They’re too small, underdeveloped.”

“Okay, yeah. But, by chance, with all your reading, you know how long before they could?” Dean is trying to increase her chances while not putting the pups in danger, I can tell.

“With multiples there’s a much higher chance of premature birth. But if we want to keep them, they need her as long as possible. Another twenty weeks would do it, but the ideal? As long as possible.”

“Cuz forty is full term.”

Impressed, I nod. “Yeah.”

“Do you think I smell okay to go in yet?”

I inhale and try not to gag. “It’s hard to tell. You’ve been off to me anyway.”

Dean glares and breathes deep, closing his eyes. I feel him try to force himself to relax. Which, when does that ever work? His heart rate goes down at least.

“She’s exhausted,” Dean mutters, trying not to pace. “She missed us.”

I reach out and try to sense what he’s getting. We’re close enough, she’s probably getting a read on us too, but she hasn’t outright said anything or called us in yet. I’m not as good at it as Dean is, I’m not sure if it’s time or just something he’s better at, or maybe my own worry is clouding over my other senses. I don’t want to dwell on it right now, but he had to say something. Like he’s translating.

“Yeah,” I just agree. “Me, too.”

Because, of course I missed her. But also, I don’t want to sound surprised. He eyes me and inhales, psyching himself up. 

“You coming?” Dean nods to her closed door and I stop short of going in before him.

Her whole room smells of home and anguish.

Dean’s on now, he’s smiling softly and easing inside. I forget how much of him is bravado anyway. I close the door quietly behind us and walk to the side opposite of Dean. Naturally, we each gravitate to the side of her that bares our marks.

She hums in her sleep and her face softens as she catches our scents in her dreams. Dean can’t stop himself from touching her, just a small brushing of her hair behind her ear. It doesn’t wake her, but I know that he’s checking her temperature as he does it.

She’s okay. She’s not thriving or anything, but it feels good just to see her. I pull the blankets up and rest my hand on her stomach, feeling the belt they have tucked around her middle to monitor the babies. I try to find their heartbeats, but they’re so small and so fast, I can’t pick them apart.

It’s enough, for now.

Dean asks me a silent question and I nod, but I think he can feel my relief enough. He nods and grips the rail on the side of her bed. And we wait.

Dean

She’s been in and out of the hospital since we got back from Chicago. It seems whenever we’re separated for more than a few hours, she dips again. We’re guessing the hormone fluctuations happen when we can’t be there to regulate her.

The doctors are literally having us do their jobs for them. They are out of their depth with two Alphas fathering a single, if multiple, pregnancy. 

By her third overnight stay, I hate everything they stand for. 

We get her home and into our bed and just nest for an entire afternoon. She’s putting on weight, which is a good thing, but she’s losing muscle. Sam’s been feeding her his green smoothies— all the extra kale you could ask for. And, I’m not even complaining, because whatever helps.

My nose is buried in her hair and Sam’s her big spoon. Just laying in the not-quite-waking haze before one of us gets up to start dinner.

We don’t talk about the pups unless it’s with the doctors, because we know the more we think about them, the more attached we’ll get. Nobody wants to lose them. But it is still a very real possibility. It’s been this silent agreement— nobody wants to be the jinx.

Meanwhile, Bobby’s been deep in the lore. Most of the books that talk of the older styles of packs are more legend than anything. Maybe a few stories of weathering the elements and fighting for land. There’s very little medical knowledge to gain from all that, but he’s trying.

And then there’s the pesky red-headed beta texting me updates from Dick Roman’s central hub. Not to mention, Garth’s lanky ass helping to calm down an anxious honor-student-turned-prophet. It’s been a rough month.

I breathe her in, trying to keep my thoughts’ foot off the damn gas. She still smells like the hospital, but I know it will be gone by morning. We’ll cover her in us until she takes a shower and then start the process all over again. The healthy glow of the early days of her pregnancy has faded into almost a sheen under her skin, like something is leeching the color out of her.

I make the executive decision to order food for pick up. Nobody wants to cook or clean up at this point anyway, Sam can calm down about whatever he’s gonna say about her sodium levels. She needs food.

Besides, it gives me an excuse to go check on Bobby’s research.

Eventually Sam relents and agrees on pizza when I remind him she can’t have subs unless they’re well toasted. So there, pregnancy guru, I do pay attention. Once the food is ordered, she gets extra cuddly, knowing I’m gonna be the one leaving to get it.

I don’t hate that. 

We watch TV, just some nature show or another, me leaning back against her chest as she plays with my hair and just coats me in nesting Omega pheromones. Sam’s on his laptop next to us, half watching half scouting for anything more the Leviathans can subtly do to slowly conquer the world.

It’s when I drop Bobby’s pie off that he tells me he’s found something. And I mentally start packing before I’m even back with the rest of the food. If Bobby’s network says this guy is the real deal and there’s no trapped Reapers involved, then I’ll take what we can get. 

For her, anything. Always.

Reader

I’m staring at a ghost. Or whatever a dead angel becomes.

“Cas?”

Dean’s looking at him like he hung the moon and I can’t help but worry they’re both actually Leviathans. 

“Did you test him?”

Dean scowls at me. “He’s not possessed.”

I ignore his rudeness and look at Sam, he nods and goes inside to find some borax. 

“Y/N? I understand you’re having some difficulty?” Cas is not right. He’s not a power-tripping wannabe God, but he’s shifty. It’s weird to see him out of the trench coat.

“Okay, what is going on?” I cross my arms over my chest and wait for whatever stupid excuse Dean has for leaving us for an entire day.

“‘Mega, this is Emmanuel, he’s a faith healer.”

I swallow a few choice words and look at Dean and then back to Cas. “Emmanuel. Interesting. How’d you find him?”

“Bobby did.”

Of course he did.

“And what do you do? How do you heal people?” I step down off the porch and look into Cas’ eyes, silently daring him to lie to my face. Just one reason and I’d finally get somewhere to put all the anger that’s been ricocheting around inside my head lately.

“I emit some sort of healing energy after sensing someone’s malady. It is localized and requires little contact, if that’s what’s got you so worried.” Cas— or Emmanuel, whoever, explains cautiously, clearly aware how dangerous I can be. Or maybe that’s just from Dean and however he got him all the way out here.

“How much?” 

“I don’t ask for money. And after your mate saved mine, it’s the least I can do?”

I spin and give Dean a face.

“Yeah, found a demon about to ambush his wife trying to get at him.”

“Wife?”

“Little Beta named Daphne.”

“That shouldn’t matter,” Cas-Emmanuel seems annoyed that his wife’s secondary gender is being scrutinized, not understanding what he was— or must still be if he’s healing folks.

I shake my head and feel Sam join us again. “She cute?”

Dean nods and shrugs. 

“Good for you, Manny.” I turn to Sam. “Uh, could you hold out your hand real quick? Just need to ensure you’re not something else.”

Cas-Emmanuel looks to Dean and Dean glares back, he must decide it’s best to play along. He holds out his left hand, pulling the sleeve of his fancy sweater back. Nothing happens when Sam douses his skin with the cleaner. Well, at least there’s that.

“Alright, buddy, let’s see what you got.” I drop my arms and lean into Cas’ space, closing my eyes and waiting for the cool trickle of his Grace.

“Oh, oh my,” Cas-Emmanuel says. “Well, congratulations. But I don’t think I can help this. This is a matter of unmatched claims. Your offspring need equal input from the hormonal parts of their fathers’ claims. It’s almost like they’re experiencing rejection sickness, much like your other Alpha.”

“Rejection sickness?” Sam asks, voice deep and alarmed.

I turn and look up at Sam.

“She hasn’t claimed you back and you share her with your brother whom she has claimed,” Cas says it all so simply, like we’ve been idiots not to realize it. “I assume that’s why you’re short with your brother and his scent is probably more odorous than usual.”

“Sam?” Dean asks for clarification.

Sam looks at me without seeing me, like he just found out the sky is red. “I didn’t even realize—- I thought it was just stress.”

My chest hurts. I didn’t even know he was hurting. My fault. Again, I’ve been the cause of his pain.

“So how can we fix this? Since, apparently, you can’t.” I ask a little huffy, frustrated at Cas’ blunt appraisals and lack of solutions.

He has the nerve to look squeamish. I feel my eyebrow raise and I put all of my annoyance behind it. Dean looks at the ground like he’s in trouble.

“Um, well, I believe if you make even and equal claims your hormones and the fetuses’ hormones will regulate. And your Alphas will be less prone to rejection as well, or at least I would hope.”

I inhale and nod, figure it sounds too easy, but these boys are always whining about something so we better try it anyway. For my pups, I’d do just about anything at this point. I watch Cas-Emmanuel and I hold out my hand for him to shake.

He takes it timidly, but I shake it hard, drag him to me and scent him. 

“You’re still an angel just wearing a person. I don’t know if you’re being dumb or trying to hide something or to keep someone from finding you— or us. But just know we know who you are.” I let him go and see the panic and alarm on our friend’s face.

He doesn’t understand and it makes me even more cautious to be taking his advice.

“Hey! So, how ‘bout some grub, huh? Long drive,” Dean tries to smooth it out. But I keep watching Cas like a hawk.

Sam was making shish kebabs, so I make a salad to stretch the meal for four adults, knowing Dean will ignore the rabbit food anyway. Bobby’s out for the night, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to get an ear full from me in the morning about this faith healer of his.

Cas picks at his food, but I can tell he isn’t hungry. He never was.

It’s after dinner while Dean and Sam are doing the almost nonexistent dishes, that Cas slowly comes back to us. We’re walking around the salvage yard and I’m asking questions about his life now. When eventually he realizes he knows the answers to some of his own questions about me and my Alphas.

Cas and I have never been close, but it hurts all the same to see him so lost.

“As a healer, do you know about the different kinds of Amnesia?” I ask delicately, seeing alarm bells flash behind his brilliant blue eyes. He doesn’t respond. I let it settle in his thoughts as we approach Bobby’s porch.

My temples ache and I’m already getting tired, even though the summer sun is still above the horizon. Cas reaches forward and brushes two fingertips across my brow, earning instant relief.

I exhale.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Cas says sadly.

“Don’t know what you’re apologizing to me for,” I mutter. “Or only me— I should say.”

“It was calamity on a global scale,” Cas admits.

“Still is. Fuckers aren’t gone yet,” I huff, opening the backdoor for Cas to file in front of me.

“True,” his pensive reply.

Dean

Cas made it sound so easy, so obvious. The pups were suffering because we all were still tip-toeing around this thing we started. We weren’t all in— hormonally speaking— and they weren’t getting the stability they needed. Knowing Sam had been feeling it too really was the kicker, because I hadn’t meant for it to go that far. Especially knowing how much she’s suffered over the last couple of months.

So, basically, I’ve been a world class asshole.

I do a load of laundry and try to get my head on straight as she and Cas walk around the yard, catching up. Sam keeps giving me this look like he feels guilty but curious and all I smell is relief on him. I’ve been so far into my own head I’m tuning them both out.

What happens if the Leviathans get a hold of us? If Sam or I bite it, is she a goner too?

We need to fix this. Tonight. And pray whatever happens from here on out, the surviving bonds are strong enough to withstand anything that gets thrown at us. We were so close to normal, I’m not risking it anymore. If she needs my mark— I’ll give it to her. I would give her a freakin’ kidney, I’m not seeing it as any less now.

She’s sweaty and tired when she gets back inside, but there’s something behind her eyes that I haven’t seen in weeks and it digs into my chest with claws, latching on tight. Sam gets her some water and we congregate around the kitchen table. She explains how she thinks we can do this best, and how we’ll figure out the Leviathans as soon as she’s stable. And how Cas was sticking around for a few days until we would be rolling out the Stop Dick Permanently Plan.

By the end of the week, this all could be behind us. It feels big and it sounds easier than it is, but so do most things. 

“Okay, go get comfortable— I’ll be up in like an hour and we can go from there.” I usher them upstairs. Sam gets his claim first, beating away rejection sickness had to come first or my re-claiming might have actually killed him— if not the pups.

She’s determined to get it all done at once and I don’t blame her, but I also don’t want to tempt fate. Bodies are complicated and you can’t bank on it all working so easily.

I listen as they get close, like a love song in the background. It’s not quite my style, but I can appreciate the melody. Sam’s a pretty rough guy, and I know he’s holding back because he’s scared.

We all are.

The kitchen is spotless by the time their hour’s up. Plus all the laundry is folded in the mudroom. I rub my hand over my face and march up the stairs. The smell of sex has me stiffening up and the closer I get I catch a hint of blood mixed in. She’s cradled in Sam’s lap, legs around his waist as she laps at her claim on his neck. He’s got some color back and there’s a sense of connection, of rightness mirrored in both of their minds.

Somehow, I don’t feel like I’m interrupting.

Sam nods at me as I start to get undressed, and it’s almost like he’s relieved I’m there.

“How long you been locked in?” I ask clinically, curious to see how much build up I have ahead of me.

“‘Bout ten minutes,” she murmurs, content and dreamy.

“You want me to wait or can I join you?”

She hums richly, like she’s contemplating dessert. My stomach does somersaults. “Hold me? My back is cold.”

“I can do that.”

I crawl behind her, kissing her shoulder before rubbing down her back, then up and down her arms, covering her in my touch. I nuzzle into the crook of her neck and scent her, feeling her steady pulse against my cheek.

She’s okay. They’re all going to be okay.

We sit like that for a couple of minutes, her leaning back against me while still stuck on Sam’s knot. He’s playing with her fingers, his other massive mit is protectively pressed against her rounded belly.

She’s fucking gorgeous and she’s ours.

I’m hard against her side, but I don’t care. Not right now. It’s too perfect to go rutting against her just yet.

Sam’s all pensive, but he isn’t giving off much besides Mate and Content and Pups in random hazes of thought. I wonder if he hears me yet.

I rub my nose along her shoulder, kiss where it meets her neck and smile into the crook when she shivers. She sits up and kisses Sam, holding his face between her hands like he’s precious. He growls against her lips, sighing when she starts to scratch his scalp. She whines when he starts to slip out of her, licking into his mouth to make it last.

I’ve got my hands on the notch of her waist, eying her ass crack like it’s manna from Heaven. I’m so hard and already leaking, but she’s still got Sam to take care of. I start nipping at her nape, just to distract myself more than anything.

Sam’s plotting, I can feel it.

Then she jumps because the fucker starts rubbing her clit. Well, two can play at that game, so I grab her tits and start sucking marks all over her neck and shoulders. I twist those ruddy nipples until she’s mewling, rocking hard against Sam’s half soft dick.

“I gotcha, honey, come here,” I husk out, lifting her by the armpits onto my lap and off my brother’s knot. She gushes all over my thighs, both slick and cum. Then I’m fucking up into her before Sam can even complain.

He’s still got her mouth anyhow.

She slumps against me, holding Sam’s fingers to her mound. She calls out a breathy “Alpha” and we both speed up.

God— she’s so warm, just hugging me so good.

I look down and watch her tits bounce, her baby belly hiding the pleasure Sam’s giving her. Fucking hot.

I cup those beauties, pinching the nubs between my second and third fingers, and roll my hips, hitting her right where she likes it.

“Fuck!” she groans, cumming all over all of us.

“That’s it,” I mumble. “Give us the good stuff.”

I punch my knot up against the clench of her channel, blood pulsing through every inch I can shove inside her. I’m not there yet, but the tight, wet, squeeze of her has me salivating. She writhes in my lap, unwilling to let go of either of us. She rides out her orgasm while murmuring the most delicious filth.

Sam licks his fingers clean and then starts in on her tits. She pulls his hair and puts him where she wants him. And I’m growing heavier at the mere sight of her taking what she wants.

She reaches back and cups my neck, pulling me closer  so she can tongue fuck my mouth. She adds a roll to our rhythm and I’m seeing spots. Everything goes high and tight and I’m fucking flooding her with all I’ve got.

I bite her bottom lip on the way to her throat— to the scar I left there all those months ago. She licks her own blood off my tongue before nudging me closer. I take the scar tissue between my teeth and nip— fuck my knot in higher and pull my teeth wide and sink into the unmarred flesh. Biting deep and dragging her into my throat— feeling her infuse my veins. Weaving us further together.

She sustains me.

I tongue the fresh wound as she grinds down against my knot. I feel her lower lips quiver and I’m cumming all over again. The taste and smell of her on me— inside me, stretches out my orgasm into waves of completion— drawing it out until I’m sobbing her name and she’s shushing me quiet.

Fuck— it feels so good.

I want to put three more pups in her.

I don’t know when Sam crawled away, but I’m grateful for the time to ourselves. I kiss my mark and wrap my arms around her middle— just clinging to her and this moment.

The world finally feels like it makes sense.

Tell me what you think?

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[zepskies]

Make It Right

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Summary: He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.

AN: This was requested by this lovely anon. I've written Dean returning from Purgatory, so here is Dean returning from Hell in season 4, but with a twist…my first venture into A/B/O! Sorry if I didn’t get the dynamics quite right, I’m still learning this one. 😘

(@luci-in-trenchcoats Thank you for the encouragement! 💜)

Word Count: 4,300

Warnings: 18+ only! For smut, A/B/O dynamics, angst, mentions of torture, PTSD, and hurt/comfort.

You could’ve wept with relief.

You nearly did. Instead, you shuddered as his tongue swept along the fresh mark near the back of your neck.

A mark that claimed you as his.

Your core still quivered with the aftershocks of how hard you came around his cock, which was still buried deep inside you, locked in place with his knot. Dean nosed at your neck and shoulder as he tried to regain his breath, calm his wildly beating heart.

His skin was dewy against yours, especially where your thighs were hooked around his hips. He held himself above you so he wouldn’t crush you with his weight. You appreciated it, and you soothed up and down his sweat-slick back with grazing fingertips.

Through the newly formed bond, you could feel the frenzied haze of it all begin to clear from his mind, soon replaced by shock, and then, remorse. It made a tremor of worry churn in your belly.

“Dean?” you whispered. Your gaze met his with concern as you grasped his arm.

“What the hell did we just… I shouldn’t have…” His voice was coarse and his eyes filled with upset. “Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Dismay struck you deep, along with a pain that tore at your heart. Your only consolation was that the two of you were locked in this position, so he couldn’t slip away from you.

“How the hell could you say that to me?” you said. Against your will, your voice trembled. Tears began to sting in your eyes.

 Dean faltered. He blew out a breath and reached for your cheek.

“You know why,” he said. His face became edged with desperation. He shifted his thigh and accidentally tugged at the base of his knot. You both groaned at the pain that flared between you, where you were joined. 

Dean drew in deep, slower breaths in attempt to calm himself. His eyes shut, and his forehead dropped against yours.

“I’ve barely got three months left on my deal,” he said, through clenched teeth. “This isn’t…it’s not fucking fair to you.”

To you either, you wanted to point out, but you shook your head and held him close by the back of his neck. Your fingers trailed up into his hair, your nails brushing his scalp and eliciting a shudder from him.

Your touch both aroused him and soothed him. Your scent was everywhere, now mingled with his own that now covered you like a blanket. It was intense, and a bit overwhelming to his senses.

But it felt right.

“Don’t talk like you’ve already given up,” you said tersely.

It was with more vehemence than he expected. Dean pulled back a bit, just enough to meet your eyes. Your brows had drawn together, almost in anger. Your lips pulled into a frown.

“We’re going to find a way to break it,” you said. You reached up and held his face. Despite the strength of your words, your hands were gentle. “And I meant what I said, Dean.”

Between lusty sighs and the combined magnetic force of your heat and his rut and emotional tensions at their ultimate breaking point, the whispered words against his neck had come from the very center of you.

“Alpha,” you’d said, through abject need and burgeoning tears as you’d rubbed yourself against him. It was both biology and your heart’s longing. “Dean, I love you. Please…”

The tether of his restraint hadn’t lasted long after that. Because even though he couldn’t respond to you in words, he’d shown you in each and every action of his body molding with yours, wrecking you and claiming you on a dingy motel bed.

You deserve better, Dean thought, looking down on you now. You deserved more than what he had to give.

“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he said coarsely.

And yet, he still heeded the pull of you. Your guiding hands brought him down to your lips. It wasn’t the rough, manic, bruising kiss that had fueled your earlier passions. No, this was slow and warm and tinged with bittersweet.

Dean brushed sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. You held him to you and silently prayed that he wouldn’t let go either.

“I know,” you said. Even though the situation shouldn’t have warranted it, you giggled a little. “That makes you just about the most unselfish Alpha in existence.”

He snorted at that. His eyes took in your face, and further down, to the parts of you that weren’t covered by his body over yours. He let out a breath of defeat.

“No, I’m hella selfish,” he said. His lips quirked. “For better or worse, you’re mine, Omega.”

Your smile grew. “Good. Glad you’re finally caught up.”

Dean’s hand playfully tightened in your hair as he growled. It had little heat though, and you had the audacity to laugh. He shook his head and claimed you with another kiss.

You had to be just about the wiliest Omega in existence.

Dean never gave up.

But he also couldn’t fight off Lilith, or the hellhounds that tore his chest open and spilled his blood on the hardwood floors of some poor family’s suburban house.

You screamed as if your very soul was being ripped apart, along with his skin.

The mark on your neck burned something fierce. It had you clamping a hand down over it as you sunk to your knees next to Sam and cried over Dean’s body, his unseeing eyes. It wasn’t right.

You would never be right again.

It took about a week into your self-isolation. When you finally drew enough strength to get out of bed, you finally noticed it in the mirror—in the bathroom next to Bobby’s guest bedroom.

Your neck looked as if something had burned you. Your eyes widened in horror.

When you touched it, you hissed at the pain. The delicate nerve endings of your mating gland were even more sensitive and raw. Apparently, this was what happened when an Alpha mate died before their Omega.

However, even that pain was nothing compared to what you discovered, two months later.

Your mating gland had healed, and the claim mark was gone entirely.

You sank against the wall, all the way to the floor, and you cried until you were exhausted and frayed. Not even Bobby’s offer of a hot meal and a listening ear could penetrate your grief.

You were ashamed of the way you lost track of Sam after it all went down. You’d descended into yourself, and Bobby had been the only one there to catch you. Sam had forged on by himself, down a spiral of revenge, you were sure.

He wouldn’t come back to Sioux Falls, nor would he tell you where he was when you finally got him on the phone. He claimed he was better off alone as he tried to find a way to save Dean, but there was something off in his voice. Something that told you whatever he was doing was dangerous, and wrong.

“Sam, don’t you dare make a deal,” you demanded, through frustrated and sorrowful tears. “Dean wouldn’t want—”

“Don’t fucking tell me…what Dean would want, okay?” Sam seethed. “If it were me, he wouldn’t stop. If it were you, he wouldn’t stop. So don’t tell me to stop.”

“I’m not telling you to stop!” you shouted back. “I’m telling you not to do something stupid! And I’m asking you to let me help.”

There was a long pause on the line. You tried to calm your labored breathing as you waited for him.

“If you really want to help me, do what you can from Bobby’s. I’ll check in when I can,” he said.

And the line went dead.

Two more months had passed by the time you started to feel the barest hint of yourself again. You’d tried to go on a hunt with Bobby, but you really hadn’t been ready for it. Your head wasn’t in it, and that was how hunters got killed.

So you stayed behind and answered the phones for him. You pretended to be FBI and CIA and Homeland Security for fellow hunters trying to get their hands on police files.

You also helped Bobby with research and reorganized his extensive, and ridiculously chaotic home library. He was the only one you knew who could have A History of Paganism next to a guidebook on Chinese tea ceremonies.

But one night, you decided you were sick of sitting on your ass (and all the dust).

You were finally going out for a drink.

Bobby was locked at home in research for a case. You felt bad about bailing on him, but he insisted you were entitled to go out…

Not that you wanted to meet anyone. However, you did realize that you needed to reconnect with the outside world. You’d been staring at the peeling walls of Bobby’s house for four months now.

So you showered, found a simple black dress from deep in your closet, and started to blow-dry your hair. You didn’t do this often, but if you were going out, then you were going to make an effort.

You paused for a moment when a cramp hit your lower belly. You grimaced and pressed a hand there. A shiver ran down your spine.

Shit, not now, you thought. If this was your heat coming on, you would have to take another suppressant before you went out. You knew blocking your cycle wasn’t that good for you, but you hadn’t felt like dealing with it for the past few months. You just weren’t ready to go through another heat, whether by yourself, or with a stranger.

It…it was too soon.

After the cramping subsided for the moment, you continued drying parts of your hair, sweeping the brush through. With the hairdryer so loud in your ears, you didn’t hear the front door opening, or the resulting shouting and scuffle coming from downstairs.

Eventually, there was quiet. And then, heavy boots climbing up the stairs.

You saw the bathroom door push open out of the corner of your eye. You turned and nearly jumped right out of your skin.

Your scream echoed on the walls when you saw something that looked entirely too much like Dean Winchester.

Hit scent hit you then. Warm and musky, a hint of earthiness and soil, but no less familiar. It struck a blow to your chest and forced you to grip the counter for balance. You clicked off the hairdryer. 

The doppelganger raised placating hands, though his wide eyes slowly softened as a smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

His deep voice was the same. He looked dirty and disheveled, wearing a familiar gray buttoned down over a black shirt, his usual jeans, and boots. If your memory served, they looked like the clothes he was buried in…

Your hands shook. “Wh…what the hell are you?”

Dean’s smile began to fall.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe. But I’m me. I’m, uh… I’m back,” he replied. When he tried taking a cautious step forward, you brandished your hairdryer against him—your only feasible weapon.

“You…you back the fuck off!” you snapped. You opened your mouth to shout for Bobby, but before you could, Dean’s trademark smirk took hold of his face.

“What’re you gonna do, blow me to death?” he quipped.

After you broke through a bit of your shock, you spluttered with laughter. And then tears.

Dean’s lips quirked, but he moved towards you in slow steps. He took the hairdryer from you and set it down on the counter. With a slightly shaking hand, he touched your cheek. You closed your eyes for a moment, sucked in a breath, and inadvertently inhaled his scent once again.

Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt. You realized it then. You didn’t need silver or holy water to prove it was him. You knew.

Your eyes opened and met his.

“Dean,” you uttered, brokenly.

He couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Dean pulled you into him by your waist. He held you as you shuddered and cried into his chest. His hand clenched in your hair, while the other pressed into the small of your back. It anchored him, and trapped you in the cage of his arms.

He buried his nose into your neck and had to squeeze his eyes shut past a telltale burn in his eyes. Your name fell from his lips, both longing and reverent. Your hold on him tightened.

His lips brushed against your mating gland, igniting sensitive nerve endings and making a tremble run down your spine.

“Alpha,” you whispered.

Dean’s insides clenched in response. He ached for you, just like he had soon after he’d been able to free himself from that pine box in the middle of nowhere. But his brows furrowed.

He pulled back from you, just so he could brush the bare skin along your neck with a gentle thumb.

“What happened to the mark?” he asked. He realized that he couldn’t feel you, not like before. And even your scent was different…like you’d never been claimed by him. Like you weren’t his. That realization hit him like a sucker punch to his stomach.

You frowned and leaned back so you could meet Dean’s eyes. It took you a moment to find your voice, and even when you did, it was uncharacteristically small.

“After…after what happened, it burned like holy hell,” you confessed. Your hands travelled down his chest, clinging to the open edges of his shirt. “Then it was a scar. Then, it was just…nothing. It was gone.”

Fresh tears burgeoned in your eyes. They spilled down your cheeks as your frame shook with a sob, but Dean gathered you back into his arms. As shitty as it was, he started to think this was actually for the better…

“What happened, Dean? How are you here?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Haven’t figured that part out just yet…but something broke me out.”

He knew it wasn’t you who made a deal. Your shock was too real to be an act. He knew, however, that he needed to find Sam.

That could wait though. Dean’s gaze roamed your face. He wiped away the remnants of tears from your cheeks, brushed his thumb across your lower lip. Your eyes met his. He saw your heartbreak begin to fade—into a desire that called to his own. Despite the voice inside that warned him to hold back, he just couldn’t help himself.

When he finally leaned in to kiss you, it felt like coming home. You held his face in your hands and rose up on your toes to meet him. His arms wrapped around your waist and brought you flush against him, but it wasn’t enough.

Kisses became more frantic, with labored breaths and hands moving to remove each other’s clothing. Your sexy little black dress fell to the floor, along with your bra and panties and the rest of his clothes.

“You’re filthy,” you laughed, between the sloppy meeting of your lips with his. 

Dean’s response was to peel back the shower curtain behind you and turn on the shower head, as hot as it could go. A growl sounded low in his throat before he bodily hefted you along with him into the shower and under the spray.

For a moment, he let the scalding water beat down on him. You grabbed the soap and drew it over his neck, chest, and shoulders. The suds trickled down his body, washing away the grime of the road, and whatever else he hadn't been able to wipe off after escaping his grave.

He blinked water out of his eyes as he took in the sight of your concentrated face, and your gentle hands washing him. Then the rest of your body, your curves that fit so well in his hands, your breasts that heaved along with your heavier breathing, nipples hard and aching to be touched.

Dean took the soap from your hands and put it back on the dish, shortly before he pinned you against the cold bathroom tile. He ravaged you with lips, teeth, and tongue along your neck, down your chest, and over your breasts. You moaned and held him to you.

You didn't care that your hair was getting soaked all over again. Your fingers ran through his now wet hair as he touched you and drew pleasure from your body.

Your lower belly was beginning to cramp in earnest now, and resonating deep inside you with heat. You felt a flood of slick forming between your legs as your core pulsed with need.

Your scent hit him in a powerful wave, nearly making Dean falter as his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuck. You’re in heat, Omega,” he choked out.

You nodded, though you had to fist a hand in his hair when you felt his fingers between your legs. They swiped between your drenched folds, gathering some slick and circling around your clit. You moaned loudly and arched against his hand. The back of your head pressed into the wall.

“Alpha,” you said. A whine sounded in your throat as Dean’s touch firmed in response. His thumb pressed and massaged your clit while two fingers slipped deep inside your tight channel. 

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, along with your nails grazing down his back. Already he was painfully hard for you. He had a suspicious feeling that your heat was triggering his rut, because he was becoming desperate to be inside you. His whole body felt tingling and alive, and charged with need.

His lips sucked hard on those sensitive nerves between your neck and shoulder, making you gasp. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers.

“That’s it, Omega. Want you to come just like this before I fill you up,” he muttered. He earned your vocal agreement in response.

But then it hit him.

Flashes of memory. Darkness and blood. Agony tearing at his skin and insides.

And then, inflicting it himself, on other souls just as damned as him.

Your moan of release just barely managed to pull him out of his own mind. He felt your wetness coat his hand. Goddamn.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. And yet, while his body caged yours against the wall, he couldn’t force himself to continue. He couldn’t back off either. He was fighting every instinct in his body that demanded he take you, right here and now.

“Dean?” you asked, sensing his hesitation. You cupped his cheek, but he didn’t want to look at you.

“I can’t,” he ground out.

Your eyes widened as shock and dismay threatened to overtake you. “What?”

Dean’s eyes closed. He was trembling with the force of both his need, and his restraint.

With a frown of concern, you wrapped a thigh around his hip, but he wouldn’t heed your attempt to bring him closer.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. No, you demanded to know. Because your body was quaking with desire as well. You needed his knot, and you wanted nothing more than for him to make this right—to claim you as his.

But Dean looked like he was in pain. He winced and pressed a fist against the wall by your head. He pressed his forehead against it.

You tried to comfort him with your hands soothing over his shoulders. There you finally caught sight of a mark on his right shoulder. It looked like a burn…a handprint. Your eyes widened with a small gasp.

He followed your gaze, but he eventually looked away with a frown. It was like he didn’t even want to acknowledge it, even if he didn’t know what it was. Whatever had hauled him out of Hell, he doubted it was anything good. 

“I’m, uh…” He breathed raggedly through his nose. “I’m not…the same.”

You had a feeling it was very difficult for him to admit that.

Four months.

That was how long he’d been lost to you. That was how long he’d been in Hell. You couldn’t even imagine…

You swallowed past a lump of sorrow, but you weren’t deterred. You grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You were my Alpha long before you claimed me,” you told him.

That affected Dean, probably more than you knew. He still shook his head though.

“It’s not right, Omega,” he said, even as his voice trembled. You don’t have a fuckin’ clue… You don’t know what I’ve turned into.

The water from the shower head was growing cold, but you’d never been hotter. The cramps were starting up again in earnest, making your teeth clench at the combination of pain and incredible arousal.

“I need you,” you said, through frustration, heat, and emotion all at once. “I would never leave you like this. I would never leave you.”

His eyes closed again, briefly. His breath came out harshly through his nose when you touched his cheek. Your touch was gentle, but it still ignited his skin and made every muscle in his body coil tight with strain.

It was hard to sort through the base instincts that were on the verge of taking over his mind, and then his body. Deep down though, Dean knew you were right. He knew you would never leave him. And that was kind of the problem.

“Alpha, please,” you said, through your own strain. Again, you took his face in your hands and shook him. It drew his gaze to your face. Your beautiful face that he’d seen over and over in the Pit, used as his own personal form of torture.

His whole body trembled.

You saw his distress, and it pierced your heart. You leaned up and brushed your wet cheek against his, while your fingers slipped into his hair in comfort.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” you said. “And you’re here with me.”

You nuzzled your way down his neck and pressed your lips to his mating gland, making him shiver for a whole different reason. You pressed your body against his and kissed, licked, and sucked at his skin.  

“Omega,” he warned, but the growl in his throat was more pleased than warning. He felt your nails graze down his chest and stomach, and soon enough your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

He sucked in a breath and pressed his face into your neck. His lips ventured tantalizingly close to the place you wanted him the most, and all the while you stroked him along sensitive flesh. Your thumb circled around his knot, and the dripping head.

“I know you need me too,” you said. You could smell his rut. Your lips edged at a smirk, and you decided to bluff. “But if you won’t make me yours, maybe I’ll find another Alpha who will.”

It didn’t take long before a vice grip closed around your wrist. Dean’s irises were rimmed with black when he met your gaze, half consumed by the Alpha as he pinned you harder against the wall. He grabbed your thigh and hooked it around his hip. And with the other hand he guided his cock to push into you and stretch your inner walls, inch by inch.

You both moaned in relief when he was firmly seated inside you. Your core throbbed around him in a spasm of pleasure. You cried out and rolled your head back against the wall, your nails sinking into his shoulders.

“Alpha,” you shuddered.

“I got you, Omega,” he ground out, just barely holding onto the tethers of himself. His fingers coiled tight into your wet hair and began to pound into you, a rough clip that had you gasping, toes curling as you arched against him.

His lips found your throat and laid a nipping kiss there. All you could do was hold on desperately. You knew he was close when his thrusts grew ragged, when it became harder for him to push into you with the swell of his knot forming. But it wasn’t until his fingers slipped between your joined bodies and circled more insistently over your clit that you came along with him, hard on his throbbing cock.

His teeth sunk into your neck, creating a newly forged bond through a haze of pain and pleasure. You cried out again at the force of it all—the sensations were nearly overwhelming, even more so than it had been the first time he claimed you.

And Dean nearly slipped in the tub.

“Fuck!” He managed to catch himself on the soap dish and the adjoining wall while you grabbed his arms steady. Shit, that really could’ve been disastrous, considering you two were now locked in place.

He glanced down at you. Through wide eyes and panting breaths, you broke first with a giggle. Dean’s lips curved with a smile. Soon enough, he was chuckling too.

The black around his irises receded, and he held you more gently and secure against the wall. After licking the line of blood clean from your neck with a slow, sensuous tongue, he brushed your wet hair back from your face. Then he turned off the frigid shower. 

“We really shouldn’t have done this in here. Shit,” he said with a laugh. How were you two supposed to get to your bed? Or at least get dry.

You giggled harder and dropped your forehead against his chest.

“It’s okay,” you said teasingly. “I think this is worth catching pneumonia over.”

Dean shook his head at your antics, but he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. Smiling bright, you leaned up just enough to reach his lips. Your kiss was slow and tender; a release of your grief, a grateful thank you, and a reminder all at once.

“I love you,” you whispered. “That’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest afterwards.”

Dean expelled a long breath. He nodded after a moment, conceding defeat.

“I love you too,” he admitted. And he meant it, down to his bones. 

He knew that afterwards wouldn’t be as easy as you seemed to think, but there was no turning back now.

You were his. 

AN: And there we have it! lol This was definitely a fun challenge. I might like to try my hand at A/B/O dynamics again in the future, but let me know what you think of this one. 😘💜

Dean Winchester One-Shots

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[welldonebeca]

One Wife for Two Brothers

Summary: The infamous Winchesters brothers are in your village, and the old ladies in town won't stop gossiping about how they are looking for an Omega. You are happy to offer yourself to the role. Warnings: Vaginal fingering. Smut. Teasing. Seduction. A/B/O dynamics.

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Masterlist

You swept the floor of the church clean in a silent trance, humming a hymn to yourself while other women whispered to themselves in a corner.

"Hey," you called. "If you are not going to clean, just go talk outside. It will make my job easier."

Mrs Harvelle threw a look in your direction, pressing her lips in a worried look.

"Come here, kid," she called. "Come listen to us."

"Ellen," Mrs Mills hissed.

"You know she needs to know, Jody," she nearly barked back.

Mrs Mills didn't look pleased and you sighed, not wanting to get another scolding from your father for ignoring your chores to listen to gossip, but the trio of women practically pulled you to stand with them.

"She is too young to even know of any of this, Ellen!" she protested.

"She is nineteen," Mrs Harvelle argued, keeping a tight grip around your elbow. "My girl is younger and I already taught her what she needs to know about them."

Them?

"Who is them?" you frowned.

"Those Winchester boys," Mrs Harvelle told you.

The name rang a bell, and you just frowned more. They were Alphas from a clan that lived a day away from your town. They would often come to represent their group in legal situations and to buy things they couldn't produce.

You hadn't heard much from them, honestly, only what your father always said. He called them heretics who followed the old ways, prayed under the moon and were rumoured to still be able to shift into wolves - something that had been lost for centuries now.

Rogue Alphas who followed no human laws.

Aside from the rumours, though, they never seemed to cause any trouble. You had never heard of them disrespecting anyone, or doing anything to earn such a reputation.

And yet, people still feared them.

"Some people said they are looking for a mate," Mrs Mills told you.

"Well, they can forget it," Mrs Harvelle growled. "No Omega in this town will sign themselves away to be their breeding bitch."

You swallowed down and she scowled.

"My Jo said she isn't leaving the house until they are gone," she shot you a look. "You should do the same thing. It's safer."

Jo had just turned 15, you doubted she would even want to think of that.

You didn't know what to think of it. So far, you hadn't even thought about marriage, much less mating.

"Be careful," Miss Hanscum told you.

And then, just as soon as they had pulled you closer, they pushed you back into work, leaving you alone to finish cleaning the church.

You were just two benches away from the door and the sun was almost down when you heard it opening loudly, and heavy steps - that you didn't recognise - walked inside.

"My father is gone," you warned them. "He won't be back until..."

You stopped midway as you looked at who it was, stunned to see the tall and large figure at the door, an imposing man with eyes that caught the light and bigger than any other you had ever seen in your life.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, face soft. "I just came here to pray."

His scent hit your nose, and you weren't surprised.  He was an Alpha - and a very good smelling one.

"It's... fine," you mumbled.

He nodded, and stepped on the carpet, cleaning his boots before taking the furthest seat from you and sitting right in the front, on the other side of the church, maybe hoping it wouldn't disturb your cleaning.

You waited a bit and pretended to have to clean a different spot, trying to take a better look at him as he prayed with his eyes closed.

His clothes weren't too well stitched and looked like they were redone several times to fit his size, as if he had grown faster than he was supposed to. He was just so muscular.

You had never seen an Alpha looking so...  traditional.

Whoever this man was, he looked like he had come straight out of history books. You were shocked that his fingers didn't have claws or his ears didn't have fur.

Though it wasn't like you could see his ears with his long, luscious hair.

You froze, a little embarrassed when you realised you were staring. Why were you so fixated on him, why did you even care about his hair?

Alpha opened his eyes and stared right at yours, and you had to will your knees not to buckle.

"Are you from the Winchester clan?" you asked.

His lips curled in a teasing smile.

"Yes," he confirmed.

His big hand moved to his side, and he patted the seating spot by his side.

Any warnings to stay away just flew away from your head.

You rubbed your thighs together as you followed his silent instructions, sitting at the bench right by his side, eloped by his delicious scent, and tried not to let yourself be tempted.

You were a smart Omega and weren't going to fall into the lap of the first alpha with soft-looking hair and kind eyes and big hands that looked like they could dwarf both of yours...

"So… you pray?” you asked. “I thought you believed in your moon god."

He chuckled.

"We do, as a clan," Alpha explained. "But I like to believe all gods have a reason to be respected. Maybe this one will be nice and help my brother find us an inn that will let us stay the night."

You laughed a bit.

"Maybe we can pray together?" you offered. "It can't hurt to try."

He smiled and took your hands, moving so that he could face you, and you did the same.

"Close your eyes," he whispered.

You obeyed, but you couldn't quite do anything as close to praying.

Instead, you could only think of his scent, of how it was all around you. Could he scent you?

Maybe he could scent how you were getting wet by just breathing his scent in alone.

"What is your name?" he asked, breath so close to your neck you could almost feel his lips on your skin. "And why are you trying to tempt me in such a holy place?"

. . .

. . .

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. . .

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[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Don’t Provoke Dean

Ch 3.

Y/N found herself lying on Dean's chest naked, his arms wrapped around her as he hummed some rock song she’d heard in the Impala, still on his knot. She smiled to herself feeling the soreness of the bite on her neck. She slowly opened her eyes, shifting her head up and looking at him.

“You’re awake?”

She hummed in response.

“Take your time. Gonna be a while.”

She hummed again and nuzzled against his chest, deeply inhaling his scent. She began to purr loudly against him.

He carded his fingers through her hair and chuckled. He kissed her hair and continued to hum the song.

The purr began to quiet down.

“Did you fall asleep again?” He chuckled, quietly. “I musta tired you out. I got ya, sweetheart.” He placed a kiss on her hair.

Y/N awoke to be fully dressed and seat belted into the Impala. Dean was driving with his cassettes playing on low. She stretched and yawned, shifting to sit up in the front passenger seat.

Dean grabbed her hand and kissed her knuckles. “Hey, Sleepyhead. Nice nap?”

She smiled blushing and nodded. “Yeah,” she confirms, sleepily.

Dean interlaced their fingers as he drove, a small smile on his lips when he glanced at her.

Y/N dozed again, holding Dean’s hand loosely as they headed to the bunker. When the Impala parked, she awakened to find them parked in the Men of Letters garage and her car two spots over. She smiled sleepily upon seeing her car and unbuckled, getting out of the vehicle. Seeing the trunk open, she walked over to help unload but found it empty except for the usual times for hunting. She closed it up and walked inside towards the kitchen. She was parched and starving.

Who knew mating could be so tiresome? Yeesh!

She grabbed a few items and made herself a sandwich along with water from the tap. Sitting down, she ate and drank waiting for Dean and/or Sam to find her. Sam was the first to enter the kitchen.

“Y/N!” He smiled then noticed her neck, his eyes widened followed by a toothy grin. “Congrats!” He walked over with his arms open wide. She chuckled at him and stood up, meeting him halfway for a hug.

“Hey,” called Dean, commandingly. His eyebrows furrowed and frowning. “That’s mine.”

“I’m a she, Dean. Not a ‘that’.” She stepped away from Sam and stepped towards Dean, putting one hand on her hip, quirking a brow challengingly at him.

He walked right over to her, hiding his smile, and picked her up, kissing her. She squealed at the surprise change. “I know,” he mumbled against her lips. “You’re too easy to rile up.”

She grinned at him and shook her head, wrapping her arms and legs around him.

“Congrats, man.” Sam squeezed Dean’s shoulder. “I was just grabbing a bite before doing some research on a potential case.”

Y/N whined. “We just got back.”

“I know, baby,” Dean agreed. “We’ll take a break, I promise.” He pecked a kiss against her lips and set her down. She settled back into the spot and finished her sandwich.

Dean and Sam exchanged a look, which Sam followed with a single nod before making his own sandwich. Y/N just watched the exchange curious about what they discussed. She rubbed her mating bite gently, it was sore when she turned her head too much

.

“You ok?” Dean asked. He came over, pulled the chair next to her, and scented the bite he left.

She nodded. “Just sore,” she replied before taking the last bite of her sandwich. Dean kissed her claimed mating gland, and licked it, making sure to keep it clean.

Y/N closed her eyes as he cleaned it. It made her feel calm and safe as he did.

“The soreness should go away in a few days,” Sam offered quietly.

“Good to know.” Y/N smiled, glancing up at Sam before looking at her empty plate.

Dean pulled away. “All good. You let me know if it starts hurting.”

She grabbed her plate, drank her water, and got up to put it away in the sink. “Will do, Alpha.”

Sam gave Dean a teasing eyebrow wiggle behind Y/N’s back and a smirk.

“Shut up,” Dean growled quietly at Sam, who just smiled and headed for the library.

Dean watched Sam walk off as Y/N watched him. “Now, what?” She asked.

He looked into her Y/E/C eyes. “Now.” He stood, walking over to her, and picked her up.

“This isn’t fair. You’re bigger and stronger than me.” She wrapped herself around the Alpha once more, pouting.

“You’re the perfect size for me to have my way with you,” he growled into her ear. He felt the shiver that went through her. “How about we finish things up?”

She stiffened slightly as Dean walked towards his…now, their…bedroom.

As he carried her into the bedroom he closed the door with his foot.

“Finish what up?”

He set her back down on her feet, maintaining eye contact. “Mating.” He pulled off his shirts.

Her eyes widened at the sudden amount of skin. Her Omega immediately slid her hands across the freckled expanse of skin, skimming lightly across his nipples pulling a hiss from him. “Ooo, sensitive.”

He pulled her hands away and crossed his arms.

“What?” Her mouth partially opened as she looked up at him, her brows furrowed.

“We aren't fully mated, Y/N.”

She took a step back. “We aren’t?” Her eyes cast to the floor in thought. “You knotted me and bit me.” She looked back up to his green eyes. “How are we not fully mated?”

“It’s an exchange of bites, Y/N.” He couldn’t read the look on her face.

“So, we need to have sex, knot and I bite you?”

He gave her a soft smile and nodded.

“Oh.” She blushed at this new knowledge. “How do I know if I bit you, right?”

“You’re to bite through the mating gland when it’s swollen. It’s a saliva and blood exchange.”

“Break skin, bloody bite, got it.” Her heart began to race at the thought. She walked over to the side of his bed and sat down, toeing off her boots. “I guess being packless has its downsides. I was taught it was just the Alpha bite.”

Dean sat down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her against his side. “It’s ok, Sweetheart.”

“What’s it like being fully mated?” She wondered aloud.

“John once said that he could feel my Mom. Feel her feelings and sometimes even hear her thoughts. He knew where she always was and always felt connected to her.” Dean paused and looked down at the top of Y/N’s hair. “I think it nearly killed him when she died.”

“Is that why you…you didn’t…want me?” She whispered.

Dean took a deep breath and sighed heavily. “Nearly everyone we love is dead. I don’t…I don’t want that for you. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

She looked up into his face. “You should have let me decide that, Dean. What changed?”

“I know, Y/N. I know but…honestly? I’m not sure what happened .” He paused, looking to the floor. “I was so frustrated at how things went down. You nearly got injured because of me and–”

“That was my choice. You can’t stop me from wanting to keep you safe,” she interrupted.

“I know. I know. I just…” He sighed again.

“When you pushed me, my Alpha seemed to almost take over and saw you challenging me. That’s how it began. It began as a way to force you to submit to me and changed once I held you, smelled your…” he bent down and deeply inhaled at her neck. “Your delicious sweet scent.” He pulled back and looked into her eyes. “I knew I couldn’t keep you at arm’s length anymore. I couldn’t deny who you are to me, anymore. That’s why I sent Sam home with your car. Didn’t think any of us wanted him to witness that.”

“Wait, scenting me…? Was the straw that broke the camel’s back?” Y/N fell onto the bed laughing. “Dean,” she huffed. “If I’d realized you were such a pushover for a pretty scent…” She giggled and held her stomach.

“I am not”, he disagreed and playfully smacked her arm. His Alpha yipped and ran around watching his mate laugh.

“You so are.” She huffed until she was calm and sat back on her hands, looking up at him. “I basically challenged you and you get me in a submissive position only to have my Omega scent drive your Alpha crazy enough to go fuck it, we’re mating?” She closed her eyes and grinned. “Damn, if I had known that years ago, Winchester.” She exhaled sharply. “I’d have done that sooner”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Shuddup.”

Y/N looked up at him and then moved up the bed, scooting until she was able to rest her head on a pillow.

Dean quirked a brow at her.

She unbuttoned then pulled down the zipper of her jeans, slowly pushing the fabric off her hips, along her panties down.

Dean smirked at her undressing. He scooted up the bed and pushed up her shirt, pinched and tugged at a nipple. Her breath stuttered with a quiet groan as she bit her lip.

He hummed his disapproval, using his thumb to pull her lip from between her teeth. “I want to hear you.”

She smirked. “How about you lock the door, just in case?”

Dean stood up, a beautifully sized tent in his jeans as he went to make sure he locked his bedroom door.

As Y/N watched his jean-clad ass walk away, she removed her panties, jeans, and socks, then worked on her top. By the time Dean had returned to the bed, she was completely naked in the middle of the bed.

“So,” she began. “Is this our room now? Or should I get the room next to yours?”

Dean crawled up her naked body, boxing her head in with his arms, and pushed her legs apart with his knees to make sure he was between them. Seconds later, the scent of her arousal hit him hard. He could feel himself blurt a dollop of precome at the intensity. “I want to fall asleep and wake up to you in my arms. I don’t care where. I am never letting you go, my Omega.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Good. I’m never letting you go, my Alpha. Ever.”

His eyes softened at her words. The adoration seen in them almost felt too much with how new this whole relationship was.

“Now, where were we?”

“You were working to get me all wet so I could ride you, hop on that fat knot, and bite you to make you…us….mates.” She felt her face warm at the last word and the heat spread down her neck, quickly dissipating.

“Is that so?” He leaned down with a smile and pressed his lips to hers in which she had smiled in turn. He wrapped a hand behind her neck into her hair and the other under her shoulders. With a quick twist, Dean was on the bottom and she was lying across his body. She didn’t squeal this time but giggled as she pressed up on his chest, straddling his abdomen. “Our height difference is either gonna be awesome or a pain”, she observed.

He chuckled deeply, the vibrations spreading through his torso into her thighs and crotch.

“Oh.” She leaked at the tease of vibrations against her folds.

He watched her and hummed curiously at the feel of her wetness on his abdomen. He wrapped his hands around her hips and carefully picked her up, moving her down to sit on his pelvis in front of his hard Alpha cock. Her breath stuttered, instinctively her hands wrapped around his forearms for balance, at the easy show of his strength with a gush of slick leaking onto Dean’s pelvis. Her eyes dilated; the flush slowly moved down to her chest. She was panting, her hands unmoving; her wetness increased at the feeling of Dean’s erection resting between the globes of her ass.

“Gonna ride me, ‘mega?”

She leaned forward, grabbed his cock. Dean aided her to balance as she lined him up with her entrance, slowly sliding down his length. They both groaned in unison. Y/N closed her eyes, savoring the feel of being full and stretched with a slight burn. Her hands moved to hold her breasts, massaging against her areola and nipples. She hummed at the sensation overload.

Dean lightly teased his fingers across her skin as he moved to rub his thumb across her clit.

She flinched, opening her eyes at the unexpected sensation.

Dean grinned over at her as he sped up his thumb. “Well, ‘mega?”

She looked confused, her mouth agape as she sat there full of him with her hands on her perfectly sized breasts. Her scent was sweet with arousal and earthy with contentment.

He grinned and bucked up into her. She caught herself on his abdomen and groaned. She’d forgotten how much she loved her cervix being hit and hard. “Again.”

Dean quirked a brow.

“How…” Y/N sat up and looked at him, trying to figure out the words to say. “I don’t see how I’m supposed to bite you if you’re laying down.”

“Easy.” He grabbed her hips, using his feet he scooted up against the headboard sitting up with her still on his cock at a slightly different angle that felt just as good. Their pelvises touch allowing for her to grind her clit against his with a pleasure hum.

“Better?”

“Much”, she confirmed. Looking up at him, she saw his eyes nearly black and red leaking in. “Oh, Alpha.”

Dean could see she was reciprocating—gold brightening in her eyes. He smirked, grabbed her by her neck as his other hand slid to the middle of her back, and kissed her, putting all he was feeling into it. His scent intensified around her. She could taste his arousal on her tongue, almost like licking well-worked leather with the sweet, earthiness of tobacco. Her hands dove into his hair, her skin tingled from her lips outward, as she shifted her legs and began to slowly roll her hips. She dug her nails into his skin sliding down his neck and across the back of his shoulder, feeling his cock twitch inside her. The kiss became more of a gnashing of teeth and tongue until Dean pulled away, panting for breath. Y/N’s eyes were gold and Dean's were red.

“You’re radiant.” The look on his flushed face was an emotion that she had seen many times when he thought she wasn’t looking but doubted, even now.

“Fuck me, Alpha,” she commanded and pulled Dean down to her. He easily went along with her command, grabbing her hips tightly, and thrusting his hips up into her core. Thrust after thrust with force, quickly bringing them both so close. The slick slide of her tightening channel was a pleasure he wanted to experience again and again. His knot started sliding in and out of her wetness as she grabbed his hair, pulling his head back, exposing his neck for her to nip and suck marks onto him. She licked along his mating gland and bit roughly into it without breaking skin. Dean groaned-growled at the pleasure, thrusting in and out of her waiting for his knot to hold. She licked up his neck until her lips were next to his ear. “You’re mine, Alpha .”

He gasped, digging his nails into her flesh, picking her up, and pulling her down as he thrust up into her. “De. De. De.,” she panted over and over again as her thighs burned trying to keep up with him. Tears began to slip down her face with rapture as she wailed her pleasure. Dean’s knot locked them together; Dean growled deep within his chest as her Omega clamped Y/N’s teeth into his mating gland, coppery taste flooded her mouth as her saliva washed it down her gullet. Her gold eyes glowed with the bond snapping into place, Dean’s pleasure intensifying her own. A rapture feedback loop between the Alpha and Omega took a while to come down from.

When Y/N finally let go some time later, Dean had buried his face into her neck and shoulder, was holding her tight to his body, his back tense with both arms around her. She slowly released her jaw and pulled away slightly, gently scratching her mate’s scalp as she licked the new mating bite clean. She began to slowly rub his back and arm, understanding the intensity of it. She couldn’t tell where Dean began and she ended. She felt so much intensely and yet, she felt so safe, so loved, and fiercely desired. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on their connection, the emotions she could differentiate that was coming from him, and intensified her own emotions for him to cross over the bond.

He pulled up, eyes wide but out of focus, gasping. She cupped his face, rubbing her thumbs along his jawline, and silently watched him, patiently waiting.

Another minute went by before he looked at her, tears in his eyes, and a small smile on his lips.

“Hi,” she whispered, returning the smile.

“Hey,” he croaked, swallowed, then tried again. “Hey.”

Her smile widened. “You okay?”

He barely nodded.

“Me too.”

Thank you to @kazsrm67 for being my beta. ❤️❤️❤️

[kickingitwithkirk]

Winchester’s Folly

Summary: When Dean gets into trouble John decides to hide the truth for his family

Word Count: 984

*Dark! Fic-don't continue if you are disturbed by the subject matter.

Warnings: A/B/O, dystopian au, non/con, dub/con, incest, subjugation, pandemic, mentions of nudity, physical/mental abuse, mention of collaring/leashed, sexual/slavery, rut/heat, physical altercation, death/murder conviction, show level violence, parental dominance, trafficking, branding

*Additional warnings will be added

Square filled: @spnaubingo true mates

A/N: Still working on reigning myself in, keeping each part reader-friendly length, and have no clue how many parts this will end up being.

A/N II: a few notes about designations in A/O sub-genders for this story.

Alphas-Dominant (head of the pack/family) Subordinate (obey Dominant) Breeders (rare & highly coveted by the government. Can challenge Dominant for pack/family leadership)

Omegas -Domestic (mostly wiped out by plague, few natural born left) Feral (government-supplied breeders sold commonly called O's) House O’s (3rd generation+ Feral/Dominant breed. Used as servants/sex workers) Pack (rare & highly coveted by the government)

*Divider by @firefly-graphics

*No Beta-all mistakes are mine

PART V

Dean angrily stomped down the hallway and burst into the exam room, yelling, “Do you have any idea how fucking backasswards this state is, Dad!”

John blinked in surprise. Dean rarely spoke like this towards him as a Subordinate Alpha, which meant something was very off. Sam's ignored inquiry was another red flag. “Dean, what happened?”

“Do you know what they mandate done to prove ownership of O’s?” John was about to respond when the doctor reappeared, clearly unnerved by the angry scent rolling off Dean. “I need to speak to you privately, Mr. Winchester.” John doesn’t answer them back. “Dean, you got all the paperwork squared away?”

Dean acknowledged it was complicated, shifted his focus to the doctor, staring oddly at Sam, and barked, “You’re not his type, Doc!”  John ignored Dean's outburst and ordered them to wait outside the O’s room. They walked to another exam room, shutting the door. The doctor handed him a file. “This is the reason I asked to speak privately. It concerns your sons and the O.”

John read the first page. “The O’s file is flagged in the database? It was part of a lot taken during the bust of an illegal Pack distributor, and federal law requires spaying before resale?” The doctor interrupted, “Since I just examined it, I can attest this O is still fully intact. Heaven knows how Helms got hold of it.”

Anger crossed John’s handsome features, and snarled, “That son of a bitch! Her original purchaser accused Helms of selling them misrepresented goods. No wonder that Alpha sold her so cheaply.” He flipped to the next page and continued reading.

The next thing John was aware of was that he was seated on the floor. He knew most people would find this situation impossible, but he had had too much personal experience with the unbelievable to doubt it. “Mary’s obstetrician never said anything about us having twins!”

The doctor rolled a stool over and sat down before the big Alpha. “Was her physician at a government clinic?” John affirms the question, which makes the doctor sigh. “I bet she had an amniocentesis performed.” At John's expression, they said, “Some of their OBs order testing even if the ultrasound or blood work doesn’t show anything concerning.”

“Why would they do that?”

“Money. They use it to determine the sub-gender and designation because there are those among the elite wanting specific types of newborns. And twins with designations of Pack Omega and Breeder Alpha? It would’ve created a bidding war.”

John felt his lips moving, unable to vocalize the questions spinning in his mind. He did not want to believe the information when the doctor gestured to the results in his hands.

“I’m not lying about Sam and the Omega being twins.” John shook his head. “But I saw the ultrasounds. I would have known if I had a daughter!”

“With the older equipment, they could have already loaded someone else’s tape in the machine to fool you. And were you present during delivery?” John responded negatively.

“They drugged your mate, so she won’t remember the birth to smuggle the newborns out of the hospital directly. Something must have gone wrong since they only got your daughter, but it doesn’t explain how she ended up with that illegal distributor.”

John flashes back to seeing Mary and remembers how out of it she seemed after having Sam. Later, a shorter man appeared out of nowhere when he took Dean to the nursery, holding him up to see his new brother through its large window. He doesn’t remember their conversation, but Dean’s comment about not letting the man with the spooky eyes get Sammy stuck with him.

John's voice is hoarse. “How can she be a Pack Omega? And Sam a Breeder? They don’t exist anymore!”

“We might have evolved into civilized beings but still carry our ancestors' genetic makeup.” The doctor tapped a finger against their lips, “There was a theory that the reintroduction of Wild Pack DNA could reactivate Breeder genes within certain bloodlines, which would explain why the twin turned out a Pack Omega. She is your son's true mate.”

The doctor's words, certain bloodlines-true mate, pounded like a drumbeat, repeating in his keen mind and boarding on deafening when it hit him.

All this has something to do with Mary's death too.

“As that character in Jurassic Park said, life finds a way.” The doctor looked pained. “I must report all these results to the federal authorities by law. They will request a local retainer immediately and take them into custody. But since you have a court date,” the doctor calculated by wall clock, “In roughly thirty hours. I won’t send the results until then.”

John grew suspicious. “Why delay it?”

“I may participate in this system, but I’m not heartless. I have pups myself, and I’ve just dropped a metaphorical bomb on you. If these weren’t extenuating circumstances, you’d have legal recourse against Helms.”

John nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you. Are you obligated to tell all my pups about these findings?” The doctor replied yes but gave a pointed look, “Your party has left before I could notify them.” They paused to ponder a moment.

“Perhaps this is an unexpected blessing. The judge must accept these test results, negating your son’s conviction because now they’ve been brought together, their wolves won’t allow them to be separated easily.”

John left the office but slipped out of the clinic's rear entrance instead of returning to the exam room. He walked out of the security cameras' range and pulled out his phone, dialing a number he swore never to use again. It rang twice before answering.

“I told you to lose this number, you son of a bitch!”

“It’s about my pups.” There was silence, then, “I’m listening.” John released his held breath, “Bobby, I need your help, or I’m gonna lose them all.”

Part VI

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

WF: @slamminmine @ladysparkles78 @deans-spinster-witch @ilovetaquitosmmmm @strawblueberrys @mishkatelwarriorgoddess

[spnexploration]

Pack Masterlist

So, I didn't really mean to start a new series when a scene came to me, but we're at over 8k words in the doc now so it's pretty official that I have, in fact, started a new series...

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison (the werewolf from season 2 "Heart" 😆)

Note: This is not a poly fic but I will be leaning into Pack dynamics where Pack members seek comfort in physical contact with other Pack members. So if you're after something poly you could probably read that into some subtext here, but if you're not into that then don't worry.

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Warnings: canon-level violence, probably a bit of smut, A/B/O dynamics, there will be hugging and sleeping with (literal sleeping, not sex) Pack members who are not your mate. Individual chapters will carry their own warnings.

Supernatural writing masterlist

(image from google)

Chapter 1

Your newly-found mate, Dean, leaves you in the care of his brother.

Chapter 2

You accompany Sam and Madison on the case.

Chapter 3

Dean explains.

Chapter 4

You go home to sleep.

Chapter 5

You head back to the bunker with the Winchester

Chapter 6

Madison opens your eyes...

Chapter 7

Sam and Dean leave you and Madison in the motel room.

Chapter 8

Sam takes Dean to hospital.

Chapter 9

Sam comes to sit with Dean with you.

Chapter 10

Dean gets out of hospital.

Chapter 11

Dean is suddenly sick.

Chapter 12

Dean remains in the local hospital clinic.

Chapter 13

Dean comes home.

Chapter 14

Dean and you go to the doctor

Chapter 15

You try to follow the doctor's orders

Chapter 16

Miscommunications abound...

Chapter 17

Dean calls a family meeting.

Chapter 18

The reader learns a number of things about her new life.

Chapter 19

You need some air.

Chapter 20

You're feeling better.

Chapter 21

You start learning some lore

Chapter 22

The morning after your night alone.

Chapter 23

Your heat continues.

Chapter 24

You've finally been marked!

Chapter 25

Your heat and Dean's rut are over.

Chapter 26

The Pack heads out on Claire's hunt.

Chapter 27

[maximumkillshot]

Supernatural Masterlist

PSA- ANYTHING LABELED WITH “SMUT”, “18+”, OR OTHER WARNINGS SHOULD BE FOLLOWED. THEY CONTAIN ADULT SITUATIONS THAT ARE MEANT FOR ADULTS ONLY! HEED MY WARNINGS, I DON’T USE THEM LIGHTLY! 

ALL BELOW 18, DO NOT READ MY STUFF THAT IS LABELED AS INAPPROPRIATE FOR YOUR YOUNG EYES! COME BACK AT 18 AND I WILL WELCOME YOU WITH OPEN ARMS.

ALL WORK IS UNDER ME AND MY BLOG. DO NOT TRY TO REPUBLISH OR STEAL MY WORK, AS THAT IS COPYRIGHTED UNDER ME AND IS CONSIDERED COPYRIGHT INFRINGEMENT. 

ANY WORK THAT YOU SEE ON OTHER SITES THAT ARE MY WORKS PLEASE NOTIFY ME IMMEDIATELY.

**********************************************************************

Welcome one and All above 18 for the most part!

Here you will find all of my Supernatural works!! ENJOY!

She Wouldn’t be Into a Guy Like Me- DeanxReader   Warnings: smut (unprotected [don’t party without a hat at home kids]), language,angst, LONG? yes, WORTH IT? HELL YEAH

As If Hunters Are a Thing, Right? Part I-    Warnings: angst, descriptions of depression, character deaths, vivid imagery of crime scenes, drinking

Tear Me Down Pt 1- DeanxReader     Warnings: angst,drinking, gore, possession, descriptions of said possession, slight self esteem issue if you really look hard, just a whole slab of Sadness really

Tear Me Down Pt 2 “Now”- DeanxReader    Warnings: bit of angst in the beginning, depression, descriptions of possession, FLUFFY AS ALL HELL, make out (if that needs a warning?)

I Can’t Explain It- DeanxReader  Warnings: Angst with a wee bit o’ fluff 

“I Know My Baby Better Than You Anyway”-   Warnings: smut (unprotected [don’t party without a hat at home kids]), language, the reader being a bit of a smart ass, slightly insecure reader, super fluff at the end

Until The End of Time-    DeanxReader   Warnings:OK this is what I call, SUPER FLUFF… It is semi lethal at times… I figured that a Monday needs a little !Pregnant ReaderX!Daddy Dean love.

How Can I Put This?-   SamxReader Warnings: negative body image of the reader, Sammy being Cute as all hell, semi-fluffy, almost smut (Coming in Part 2)

“How Can I Put This?” Part II_ “Well In That Case”-   Warnings: SMUT with protection (yay I remembered!), oral sex (Female receiving GRAPHIC), dry humping, All around dirty (seriously I need to go to church now), IT’S LONG y’know like Sam?, fluff at the end, Pairing: SamxReader,   A/N: I have never said this before, but seriously, this is for 18+ users! I had to stop writing for a bit because I got all worked up. This is your only warning…enjoy! I’m Actually Thinking the Contrary of Disgust-   Warnings: negative body image of the reader, language, fluffy, Dean’s a sweetheart in this one, implied smut at the end, Sick reader  Pairing: Dean x Sick!Reader  Characters: Reader, Sam, Dean A/N: I came down with a really bad cold and it inspired this! Dean is a supersweetheart in this one.. the fluff is super strong! enjoy the fic guys!

Where Do I Sign?- Warnings: Language, Mentions of Mental Illness, Depression, Anxiety, Mentions of Medication and being without said Medication, General Angst… This one is heavy but gets fluffy… you have been warned.   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, other characters are mentioned   A/N: Hello everyone, so this is a piece that I came up with yesterday! The lovely @emoryhemsworth Beta’d this one for me so thank you once again sweetheart and Congratulations on your graduation!!!!

Writer’s Block- DRABBLE   Warnings: for the first time none really! Just gets a bit steamy at the end, enjoy my people! Pairing: Dean xReader  Characters:Reader,Dean A/N: This is a drabble that I came up with when I had writer’s block a while back. I think that now’s the perfect time to release it since my other fic isn’t quite ready yet so enjoy this drabble in it’s place! The other one should be out some time in the coming week. 

I Will Never Deserve-  Warnings: some descriptive language, cursing, fluffy Dean, angry Dean, whole bunch of Dean feels really, insecure reader    Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Reader x Dean, Sam   A/N: Ok so I kid you not this happened to me. I have been interested in a guy for a while (relationship wise). We haven’t talked in forever and then a few months later, he starts to conversate with me and basically asks me to be in a threesome…. with himself and his girlfriend…I DIDN’T DO IT! I altered parts of the conversation that I put in. So this fic is a bit of what I wish someone would have said to me… of the Dean variety.   (all the way up to the read more line is the basic summation of what happened)

She’s Mine-Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (claiming, knotting, the like), cursing, semi NSFW GIFS,  longgg as fuuuuuuuuuuccckkkkk but worth it (trust me)   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas   A/N: Ok so this is my first time trying A/B/O dynamics… I had a very good fried of mine @emoryhemsworth Beta this for me and she did an awesome job! So shout out to her!!  Also @kittenofdoomage I hope your proud!! I’ve been inspired by your A/B/O pieces for a while and I hope you enjoy this piece, you are a legend!!!

It’ll Always Be You- Warnings:SMUT, semi NSFW (Barely) gifs, Language, Nervous!Dean, tiny bit of angst, Long as all hell but worth it for the ending!   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam   A/N: Hello People! This is my so so so late admission for @mamaredd123‘s 100 quotes challenge! I am so sorry this is so late. Both my sister and I had surgeries and that put a whole halt to my writing endeavors. I am so happy with the product and I hope that y’all are too.

Since I Saw You- Warnings: None, Unless you aren’t a fan of tooth-rotting fluff, some awkward stuff maybe if you squint.   Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Y/N   Characters: Jensen Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Y/N   A/N: Hello People! Ohh two fics in less than a week? What is going on with me? Well here is my first RPF. This takes place right at the beginning of Supernatural! I mean no disrespect towards Danneel or anyone else in the fic. This is 100% a work of fiction and not meant to harm or hurt anyone at all! Please enjoy! Also let me know if I did good! I’m an insecure writer and I needs the validations!

Needed You (Imagine)-Warnings: Only one, mention of a bad hunt… Other than that a sprig of angst n a giant pile of fluff. Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Jack, Reader.    A/N: Anonymous asked: Can I request a Jack imagine?Why yes you can, nonny. Yes you can.    For this one I am not sure where you wanted me to go with it, so I am going to try a different approach, I hope you like it! I’ve never written for Jack before but let’s give it a go!

Grandma Got Fucked Over By A Reindeer-Warnings: None really, description of a murder, some cussing, implied future smut, but nothing happens, promise!   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Y/N, Sam Winchester, Jack   A/N: This is for @atc74 ‘s Cards Against Christmas Drabble Challenge. I had so much fun making this. I don’t even know how to define this genre, maybe a crack fic? Enjoy people!! 

Jealousy-Pairing: Dean X Reader   Situation: undercover office hunt where Dean get Jealous of reader getting attention from men that work in the office.   Genre: Smut/Fluff    Warnings: SMUT, FLUFFY AS ALL HELL, !Jealous Dean   Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader,    Characters:  Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader,   A/N: Is this a drabble? NO….. DO I CARE? NOT EVENN A BIT!!! I LOVE THE WAY YOU THINK! THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE, Thank you so much for submitting!

For You- Warnings: SMUT, Angst, the lightest bit of BDSM…. Fluffy Smutty Dom Demon Dean…. Yes you read that correctly… I didn’t think it was possible either… but hey, here we are.   Pairing: Fluffy!Dom!Demon! Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam  Winchester, Castiel, Reader.   A/N: Here’s another piece for the 606 challenge!!! I’m sorry it’s been a bit, classes started up again and I’m drowning in work, but I was able carve out time for this fic. I am slowly working on When You Call as well so… NOBODY PANIC THERE IS A PART 12 on the way (I may or may not be aiming for this weekend… *wink) In the meantime, please enjoy this fic!

I’ll Tell You What, Winchester- Warnings: None Really, future smut implied   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader.   A/N:This is from my 100 follower celebration, so I decided to move it to the 606 because I really want to do some gifs as well. Special thanks to @jayankles who submitted this a while ago (So sorry that it took this long.)

The Pie-Warnings: LETHAL FLUFF(look to tags to avoid spoilers), idk what else but yeah, there yah go!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAN!!!!   Pairing:Dean Winchester x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester,   A/N:Yet another Drabble Done for the 606 celebration/challenge!!! @mamaredd123 Submitted: How about a Dean x Reader, no particular genre, go with a drabble… “How could you forget the pie??”THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUBMISSION AND….ENJOY THE FLUFF

She’s  A Knockout- Warnings: Some angst, some spoilers for s14, some fluff, cursing because c’mon it’s me we’re talkin’ about, also some allusion to sexy times.   Pairing: Dean x Donna    Characters: Doug, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Donna   A/N: ONWARD WITH THE 606 CHALLENGE!!! I know I haven’t posted for this in a while, but this submission from @adoptdontshoppets that just started singing to me tonight. The submission is:“Whatcha doin’ here Dean?” + Dean x Donna + Dean shows up at the sheriff’s office to ask Donna on a date + I vote for fluff ‘cause she says ‘yes.’ Though angst if she says no could be interesting too. 🙂 Maxi’s 606

For You Part 2- Warnings: depressing memories, some provoking Demon!Dean, metions of sexy times,  it’s really a prepper for part 3…. if you want it.   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader   A/N: If you want part 3 tell me so!!

The Letter- Warnings: Some angst, Jealous!Dean, Sam’s just being Sam, Mentions of Hell and sexy times, nothing too bad, Pg-13 at best… not even really, FLUFFFFFFYYYYY   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Random Dude, Reader (Of course)   A/N: Hello all, I wasn’t able to post over the weekend, but hey! I’m doing it now!!! Enjoy everyone.. It’s FLUFFYY and as always…. GIFS AIN’T MINE!!

Tethered-Warnings: angsty PAIN OWWWW   Pairing:Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader   Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, (If I said who, it’d be a spoiler.)   A/N:  This was from @jayankles Thanks so much for the gifs hun!!

Sweet Birthday Bash- Warnings: None just lethal fluff, really   Pairing: None   Characters: Ana,Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester , Cass and Jack are mentioned   A/N: This is for the wonderful @anathewierdo to celebrate her birthday!! From her crazy tia Rowena (Vicky)

Right-  Warnings:lethal fluff, smut too, nothing too explicit since tumblr is having an existential crisis…   Pairing: Emory x Dean Winchester   Characters: Emory,Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester , Cass and Jack are mentioned   A/N: Happy birthday to my girl @emoryhemsworth !!! I’ll join you at 24 in a few months!!!

I Need Help-Warnings: Mental Breakdowns, mentions of Bipolar Disorder, Anxiety, depression, and other illnesses, small bit of cursing, fluff, angst, y’know the common roller coaster!   Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader   Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader, Jack    A/N: Hey so… I had an episode. This what I know Dean would do for his number one girl… if she lived with what I have…

Make it Better- Warnings: ANGSTY AF, like it’s bad for a while there, then it gets better. Some cussing possible, mentions of S14 stuffs.   Pairing: Dean x ReaderCharacters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Reader, OMC Luke, (Multiple other charaters mentioned   A/N: This is from an ask by @carribear31 Her ask reads:  So I have an idea, it could be angsty. Going back to beginning if seadon 14. Dean is free from Michael and comes back to the bunker to find all the AU hunters there. Him and reader have been together for awhile but seeing all these other hunters need her for this and that makes him feel unneeded and useless and even a bit jealous when he notices one other hunter seems to seek her out more then the others. Now with Dean feel sorry for himself and pushing her away she must prove they belong together. Happy ending please! Thank you!

You Had Me - Warnings: Fluff, Smut (I’M DIRTY DON’T JUDGE ME), unprotected sex (always wrap it before you tap it), asshole OMC who has a problem with plus sized women   Pairing: Dean x Reader   Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester   A/N:Anon asked: Hey I love you’re writing!💕 can I request a dean x plus size reader where the reader is super quirky and shy also super insecure but does all there research and one day the reader gets ask on a date but gets setup and deans comforts his feelings maybe smut?Here you are Nonny!

SERIES LIST (Any Fic series with more than 2 parts):

“When You Call” Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Angst, Fluff, Smut! A/B/O Dynamics

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Ansgt, depression, it’s not for the faint of heart, honestly

The Zeppelin Shirt Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: SMUT 18+ only, I could not be more serious with this, honestly. Some angst.

The Situation Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Hilariously funny... Dean’s a Chick and let’s just say that he’s having issues adjusting womanhood

Disposable Masterlist- Ongoing... Main feels: PAIN PAIN PAIN

Plenty of Woman Masterlist-  Ongoing. Main Feels: Past traumas, Dean trying to fix some real bad shit he did in the past to the reader. There will be fluff and smut spattered around in my humble opinion, not guarenteed though, as all stories take a mind of their own over time. (individual warnings will be in each fic themselves… for the love of everything read and follow them!)

By The Books Masterlist- Ongoing. Main Feels: Lot of school work, flirting, smut to follow. Individual warnings will be in each fic themselves.)

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

Tagging:

@hungrh4yyy, @mstarajoy, @dilfmommy

If you want to be tagged when I update this fic, send me an ask or leave a comment on this post.

[bigmouthlass]

Title:  Calling A Professional, part a

Series: Professional, part 1a

Author:  BJ

Fandom:  Supernatural

Rating:  Explicit

Pairing:  Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore

Synopsis: 'You' are a career-oriented young Omega too preoccupied with school to have a dating life. Your image-oriented family decide enough is enough and give you a screamingly inappropriate present -- a night with a full-service Alpha escort, emphasis on full. And stuff happens.

Tags:  Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, ABO, Omegaverse, AU, Alpha Dean Winchester, Omega You, Omega Reader, Sam Winchester, Zachariah, Balthazar, Gabriel, Naomi, Castiel, Benny LaFitte, Arthur Ketch, Abbadon, Becky Rosen, Bobby Singer, Jessica Moore, Alpha Sam Winchester, Alpha Zachariah, Alpha Balthazar, Alpha Gabriel, Alpha Castiel, Beta Benny LaFitte, Alpha Abbadon, Omega Jessica Moore, Charlie Bradbury, Billie the Reaper, First Time, Sex Worker Dean Winchester

AN:  Blame the walking talking PWP device that is Dean Winchester. All recognizable intellectual properties are owned by their respective creators and holders of any copyrights or trademarks. This is a not-for-profit work of fan art and protected by Fair Use.

---

“Are you kidding?”

Your cousin Rebecca shakes her head, flying that damn blonde mane all over the place.  Glaring, you wave a breeze past your nose.  Rebecca’s between boys again and she’s broadcasting interest signals to every Alpha within smelling range.  You check your watch.  God dammit, as it is you’re going to have to sacrifice another hour of sleep because this was supposed to be your study hour.  You do not have time to do lunch.

Except Rebecca’s speaking on behalf of one of the Family heads, an Alpha you’re supposed to call Uncle Zachariah.  You know him mostly as a signature on your tuition checks.  He’s not exactly pleased that you’re working on a degree instead of chasing a good Alpha but he’s never objected.

Apparently his patience has limits.

“Look, this service has an impeccable reputation--"

“I do not have time for this.”

“Make time, babyboo.”

You grind your teeth.  “Do not call me that.”

“Quit behaving like a child,” Rebecca says.  “Daddy made it clear.  Maybe it was okay to play it like you’re the cerebral ice princess when you were sixteen but you’re a grown Omega now.  People see you -- no Alpha, not dating, working all the time -- and they talk.”

No concern about your well-being or what you actually want, of course.  Once again you curse the absurd twist of genetics that caused you -- a surprise pregnancy between a couple of middle-aged Betas divorced from terrible first marriages -- to Present as Omega.  Things are expected of you, if you want to achieve your quietly ambitious goal of a scholar’s life without having to assume a mountain of debt.

“You hired a for-God’s-sake prostitute--"

“Escort, babe!”

“Someone receiving financial remuneration for sexual activities is a prostitute,” you say.  Because that’s what this is about; you have Alpha friends who’ll happily squire you around formal occasions just for the networking opportunities.  It’s making the conservative generation of the Family nervous that a healthy Omega with a legitimate blood tie is running around without making herself available to the right sort of Alphas, and as far as they know you’re still a virgin.

Which is correct.  That moment, when an Omega catches a scent from a compatible Alpha, gets all soft and slick and ready for mounting?  That’s never happened.  Certainly not with the frequency it happens to any of your Omega cousins.  Anael seems to fall in love every other month on average.  It all strikes you as ridiculous and it’d be nice to tell the Family to go to Hell and let you alone.

You’re more pragmatic than that.

“Look, it’s already set up,” Rebecca reminds you.  “There’s really nothing to be worried about.  It’s one party.  You and the escort get a chance to get to know each other.  Then he gets a call the next time you go into heat.”

“This is so humiliating,” you say.

Rebecca reaches across the table.  You yearn to throw your glass of water in her face but refrain.  She really is trying to be sympathetic.  “There’s nothing to be scared of.  Daddy told me this agency has Alphas that specialize in first timers.  All you have to do is relax.”

“Not helping,” you say.

“Just do it,” she sighs.  Because that’s what everything from the Family boils down to.  “You don’t have to enjoy it, but just do it.  Once it’s over Daddy and Great-Aunt Naomi will find something else to obsess over and you can go back to doing,” she waves a hand, making her bracelets rattle and her rings sparkle, “whatever it is you do.”

“It’s called anthropology,” you grumble as the waiter serves your quiche.  Rebecca tips her head and the waiter helps himself to a discrete noseful of her scent.

Disgusting.

---

A week later you’re dressing in your favorite gown and tying your hair up.  It’s Great-Aunt Naomi’s birthday party and you’re obliged to show up for a few hours and let yourself be counted amongst the Family’s membership roster.

If that were all, you’d be fine.  Take the chance to catch up with the least boring of your relatives.  But this is the night the guy your uncle’s paying to deflower you is coming to meet you.  And you’re nervous.

You open the portfolio sent by the agency.  The contract is a dense block of gobbledygook.  Someone’s highlighted the salient points, specifically in case you don’t feel absolutely comfortable and safe you can always terminate the service on the spot.  How the hell that’s supposed to work in the middle of a heat cycle, you have no idea.  Your heats are short but once you’re riding the tide your brain is good for nothing.

The opposite page has a profile of the specific professional who drew the short straw:

WINCHESTER, Dean M.  Six-foot-one, 190 pounds, brown hair, green eyes.  Cute enough, going by the snapshot paperclipped to the profile sheet.  There’s also a scrap of fabric tucked into a little pouch, a scent article that smells mostly like leather.

He’s also several years older, no higher education, and from his list of interests you anticipate a deep conversation about sports.  God damn your designation anyway.  If you were a Beta nobody would care if or who shared your bed.

“Bonsoir, cherie.”  Uncle Balthazar taps on the powder room door.  You’re staying at his condo while he spends most of his time abroad.  He’s volunteered to be there when your escort shows up, just in case.  “Are you ready darling?  I just heard the most awful racket from the garage and Harold tells me that’s your date.”

“Not my date,” you correct.  “My hooker.”

Uncle Balthazar winces.  “Mind your manners young lady.  It’s not the gentleman’s fault Zachariah has no sense of the appropriate.”

“I know,” you say.

Uncle Balthazar gives you an arm as you step into your highest heels.  “Darling, hold your head high and shine like the treasure you are and you’ll be fine.  I’ll be waiting in the sitting room.”

As he leaves you check the mirror.  Everything is in place and from photo distance you look like you belong amongst the Family rich and powerful.  With a little luck you’ll be back in time to get a little work done before going to bed.

“There she is!” Uncle Balthazar says as you stride into the sitting room.  There’s a man in black tie standing next to him.  “You look exquisite, my dear,” Uncle Balthazar brings you near with a light touch on your back and kisses your cheek.  “This fascinating gentleman is Dean Winchester.”

“How do you do?” you offer your hand.

Your gigolo takes it and brings it to his lips.  “Pleasure to meet you.”

The photograph does not do him justice, is all you can think as his eyes meet yours.  They’re green, all right, like spruce needles or forest moss or dark jade but not really like any if those things.  They study you with a warmth.  Delight, like this isn’t a business transaction and you’re the best surprise he’s ever seen.  His hand is warm, and his full pink lips are soft against your skin.  The touch sparks, like flint on steel.

“Yes, well,” Uncle Balthazar clears his throat.  “I’m going to go pick your aunt up.  I’ll see you at the party.  Au revoir ma petite.”

“Yeah, um,” Dean blinks like he’s just waking up from a trance.  “Come on, my car’s downstairs.  Let’s get going.”

“Yeah, of course, right,” you shake yourself, taking Dean’s offered arm.  Closer proximity doesn’t help, because now you can catch his scent.  He’s sweet, all caramelizing fruits and hardwood smoke and leather.  A hazy picture floats through your mind, one with less clothes and more heat and you on all fours arched and wailing as--

“Oh merde,” you say under your breath.

---

The car is an old but impeccably clean black Chevrolet.  You know nothing about cars but fall in love with this one immediately because the inside is saturated with Dean’s scent.  Warm and sweet and it’s working on your mind and body in ways you were not prepared for.

“Uht-oh, the vultures are circling,” Dean says as he pulls up to the hotel.  Sure enough there’s a gaggle of photographers perched behind velvet ropes.

“Lovely.  The more pictures they get now the more they’ll ignore me later,” you say.

“Not your first rodeo?”

“Very far from it,” you tell him dryly.

Dean accepts a token from the valet and gets out.  Waving aside the kid in uniform going for your door, he opens it himself and hands you out, standing just far enough back to be out of focus as flashbulbs pop around you.  You do the little half turn pretending to adjust the strap of your bag, and right on cue Dean steps up with his arm cocked.  He sets a leisurely pace, facing forward with a blank expression, letting you draw the eyes.

“Not your first rodeo either?” you ask in a low voice as the photographers focus on the next arrival.

“Nope,” he says, shrugging.  “Usually when I take clients to these kinds of parties, I hang out with the bartender, eat my weight in finger sandwiches, and try not to start food fights.”

You cough out a giggle at the mental image of your cousin Castiel launching a pie into Great-Aunt Naomi’s face.  “You can do that if you want,” you tell him.  “I mean except for the food fight part.  I’m used to entertaining myself at these things.”

“Nah,” Dean says.  “I want to see if I can hear you laugh some more.  You’ve got a great laugh.”

He keeps doing that.  Giving you little compliments like statements of the obvious.  Like how pretty you look with your hair up.  And an impressed, “Awesome!” when you tell him you graduated high school two years early.  And when you try to brush off what you study as boring stuff, he looks you in the eye and says, “Anything you want to talk about, I want to listen.  I’m interested.  I’m fascinated.”  He’s either the best damn actor in the world . . . or he’s being completely sincere.

Something else is happening too.  Assorted relatives keep orbiting by, insisting you introduce them to Dean.  He identifies himself as your date and nothing else.  He barely looks at them, even ones like your cousins Toni and Bela and Annmarie, Omegas firing off interest signals like fireworks.  He speaks when spoken to, can participate in conversations, but he keeps orienting on you like no one else is real to him.

Or so you imagine because that’s how you feel.  The low-level paranoia that makes events like this an unpleasant chore isn’t there.  Not when Dean keeps touching your arm or your back.  During the dinner part of the party, as your cousins do their thing around your assigned table, Dean keeps holding up morsels of his food for you to try, keeps sneaking bits off your plate.  It’s an intimate thing to do and doesn’t feel out of place at all.  You wish you were alone, just the two of you.

You stiffen when you hear your name.  It’s Zachariah, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin crawl.  “Enjoying the party?”

“Of course,” you say.  Just listen and nod in the right places, you remember your mother coaching you as a child.  Your Uncle Zachariah likes to think he’s in control.  Give him that and he’ll leave you alone.

“Good, that’s good,” he nods.  One hand goes on your arm, the other goes on Dean’s, and he leans in close.  “Just wanted to make sure you kids were hitting it off,” he says, shaking you in what probably feels like a gesture of affection to him but feels intrusive to you.

“Mr. Adler,” Dean says, and the cold formality of his tone is jarring compared to the easy and pleasant affect he’s had so far.  “We’re fine, thank you.”

Uncle Zachariah’s smile curdles a bit.  “You’re in good hands,” he tells you, and you unconsciously draw back.  His hand cups the back of your neck and the part of you that’s been basking in the warmth of Dean’s attention all evening recoils like a startled snake.  “The agency tells me Dean’s the best they have with first timers.”

It’s not like everybody in the Family doesn’t know.  Your cousins gossip worse than retirees at their favorite diner on weekday mornings.  But to have it tossed back in your face-- you honestly want to throw up.

Abruptly Dean stands.  Conversation for ten feet around goes quiet.  Brushing back Zachariah he pulls you to your feet.  “I think I could use a drink.  Don’t you.”

You nod, and when Dean puts an arm across your shoulders you press closer.  Dean’s warm, sweet scent chases away the cold chills and the instinct to run and hide.  Alpha will protect you, those instincts say, and you’re too freaked out to retort that you can protect yourself, thank you very much.

Dean leads you to a smaller secondary bar tucked in a shadowy corner of the ballroom.  “Tequila, straight,” he tells the bartender.

“Make it two,” you say.

“Woah,” Dean says.  “No way you’re old enough to drink.”

“I’ve been taking wine with dinner since I was twelve Dean.  I could probably outdrink you.”

The bartender serves it up without a word and you both slam it back.  The liquor acts like a slap in the face, clearing your head a little.

“This probably isn’t any of my business,” says the Alpha that’s getting paid to pop your cherry, “but does he usually pull that kind of shit with you?”

“What do you mean?”

Dean does a double-take.  “You’ve never had an Alpha come on to you like that?”

“Like what?” you ask, getting a little irritated.

“Babygirl when an Alpha starts rubbing the back of your neck like that it’s a dominance display.”  Dean gently lays his hand in that same place.  He applies just a little pressure and oh God, your heart starts slamming in your chest and you can feel slick at the tops of your thighs.

“Stop that,” you say.

“Yeah,” he says and backs off.  Part of you cries out, wants to leap into his arms, bare your throat, your body, everything.  “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Why stop now?”

“You’re smart, you’re beautiful, you work hard and kick ass.  Why are you putting up with,” Dean flicks a hand at the party proper, “this shit?”

“You tell me.  Why’s an intelligent good-looking guy like yourself turning tricks?”

Dean flinches.  The anger in his eyes almost spurs you into a run, but there’s something else lurking at the edges.  Shame?  Disappointment?  “I’m sorry,” you backpedal.  “It’s none of my business.”

“There aren’t many jobs for high school dropouts that let a guy gross eighty K a year, and I’ve got a father in assisted living and a brother in law school,” Dean tells you in a flat just-the-facts monotone.

You laugh without much humor.  “I’m aiming for a doctorate, the Family pays for my education, and Zachariah controls the money.  I’m ineligible for financial aid because my mother was an Adler of the Grand Rapids Adlers and student loans would put me in debt until I turn five hundred.”

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment.

“You wanna go out, get some air?” Dean runs up the Truce flag.

“So bad.”

---

Outside the fall air is cool and smells like peace.    You lead the way to the back end of the hotel courtyard, where there’re benches looking across the river.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize again.  “I got no high ground to stand on when it comes to how anybody makes money.”

Dean huffs out an unamused little ha.  “My dad still thinks I hustle pool and scam credit cards for a living.  If he knew I work for an escort service he’d have a heart attack.  Then come back to life and shoot me.  Then have another heart attack.”

“Aren’t you worried he’ll see you on one of those daytime tabloid shows?”

“Nah.  Dad only pays attention to the ABCs.  Automobiles, Booze and Cowboys.”  Dean pauses, looking across the river at the softly lit rotunda of the museum.  “Doing this means Dad can stay in a good place and Sam doesn’t have to hold down a job while he’s at school.  Once he graduates, he’ll be able to start helping with Dad’s bills and I can quit and do something else.  Or keep doing it and retire young.  I dunno.”

“You don’t have to justify yourself to me.”

“I’m not, just thinking out loud I guess.”  A breeze blows in from the west and you shiver as it pulls gooseflesh from your bare arms and back.  “Oh, here,” Dean says, shucking out of his tuxedo jacket and draping it over you.  His arm goes over your shoulders and you let him cuddle you close.  It’s easier to see now, the firm layers of muscle on his arm and chest, how small your body is by comparison.

There it is again, that melting feeling deep in your core.  A part of you that only comes alive in your heat cycles is awake now, making you want to curl around Alpha the way a cat curls up in a friendly lap.  You’d purr if you could roll an R.

You feel Dean’s chest rise as he takes a deep breath.  “You’re not used to having someone take care of you, are you?” he asks.

“I can take care of myself,” you say, but it doesn’t have the hard snap it usually does when you point that out.

“Yeah I can see that.  That’s not my point.  You looked scared to death in there, but you didn’t look around for help.  How long have you been dealing with his crap on your own?”

You shudder, and Dean pulls you closer.  “I barely know Zachariah.  I only see him at events like this and when I have to give him my schedule every semester.  He pays for my tuition, so I have to at least be nice to him.”

“Fuck.”  Dean’s quicker than he lets on.  “I just dropped a damn mess in your lap didn’t I?”

“It’s not your fault.  Look,” you say, trying to push past the way being in his arms makes you feel warm and alive and wanting, “if you want to back out, I’ll make sure you still get paid.  It’s pretty clear Zachariah didn’t give a damn about me or the Family.  He . . . I don’t know what he wants.”

“I got a pretty goddamned good idea.  When you get home, check for cameras.”

You shudder again, feeling sick.

“You also might want to talk to a lawyer about your options as far as family money.  An independent lawyer.  You get me?”

“Yeah.”

“Anyway, Zachariah isn’t the one calling the shots.  You are,” Dean says.  “Do something for me, would you please?”

“Okay.”

“Close your eyes.”

You do.

“Just breathe with me a minute.  There’s nobody else here, just us.”  Dean lets the quiet hang.  He tips his head to rest on top of yours, taking your scent.  His own Alpha scent gets stronger, more complex.  More delicious.  “Pretend we just met.  It’s up to you, where we go from here.  If it’s what you want, I’ll take you home right now and you’ll never see me again--"

“No.”  You open your eyes and turn your head, meeting Dean’s surprised look.  “No I don’t want that.”

“Oh thank God, me neither,” Dean breathes and presses his mouth to yours.

You’ve been kissed before, and mostly it felt gross.  This is not that.  The only thing you can think is soft.  One of his hands cups the back of your neck and you sigh into his mouth at the way you go soft and slick under the touch.  The picture in your mind is in sharper focus now, now that you know Dean’s palms are a little rough and how his lips taste.  How would-- how will that feel when you’re in heat and every sensation jumps by a factor of ten?  “Oh God,” you whimper.

Dean pulls back and smiles.  “Dean’s fine, babygirl.”

You swat at his chest, giggling.  “No egotism in your family.”

“When you’re as great as I am,” Dean tells you, trying to keep a straight face and not quite making it, “it’s hard to be humble.”

You burst out laughing.

“Oh, share the fun?”  Uncle Balthazar, his dark red silk shirt open at the throat and smelling strongly like Aunt Anna’s perfume strolls up.

“Inside joke,” you tell him.

“Already?”  He smiles down at you.  “Just came over to tell you not to wait up.  I got a call from Gabriel.  I have to catch a flight to Madrid in a few hours.”  He makes a face.  “God, I despise Spain this time of year.”

“Did they make the toast already?”

“Yeah.  If you want to make a discrete exit now would be the time.”  He pecks your cheek, frowns, sniffs.  “My goodness.  May I suggest a quick dip in the river before you go?”

“Very funny.”

“I’m not entirely joking, ma cherie.”  Is he blushing?  In the dark it’s hard to tell.  Uncle Balthazar turns his attention to Dean.  “It goes without saying that if you hurt our darling girl in any way I’ll have your legs broken, yes?”

“Understood,” Dean answers.

“Splendid.  I’ll call in a few days.  Goodnight sweetheart,” he smiles at you and strolls away, whistling Hall of the Mountain King.

“He’s right,” you say, trying again to behave like you don’t want to climb Dean like a curtain.  “We can sneak out through the access alley that comes out by the old post office.”

Dean frowns thoughtfully, one finger waggling as he takes his bearings.  “Got it.”

You stand.  Dean doesn’t.  “Come on, we gotta get before the valets get busy.”

“Gimme a minute,” he says, pushing himself to his feet.

“Why?  What’s wrong?”

“God,” he says to himself, looking down into your confused face, “you have no fucking idea what you’re doing to me do you?”  At your very eloquent ‘huh?’ Dean pulls you tight to him and kisses you.  Reflexively you stretch to try and match his height, and Dean groans as your belly drags over the bulge at the front of his pants.

Blushing as your blood turns to lava, you say, “I’m sorry?  I didn’t mean to do that.”

“Never,” Dean says, “ever, ever, apologize to me for getting me hot.”

“H-ha-have you been like that all night?” you stutter.

“More or less.”  Gently pushing you back to arm’s length, Dean puts his arm across his face and takes several deep breaths.  “Okay.  I’m okay.  Let’s get out of here.”

---

You keep it together up until the elevator to Uncle Balthazar’s condo opens on the foyer.  Dean takes his jacket back and puts his face in the fabric, smelling your mingled scents.  “I’m never getting this damn thing cleaned again.”

“I will not be your excuse for dirty laundry, Alpha,” you say without thinking.

Dean’s smile widens.  “I could get used to hearing that,” he tells you, pulling you close for another kiss.

What was probably intended as an affectionate good night turns into something else, as the simple facts of safety and privacy make themselves known.  Dean backs you into a wall as your legs go weak.  He bends his knees and you moan as that bulge rubs exactly where you need it.  For the first time in your life you wish you were in heat, right now, Presenting, taking Alpha’s knot.

“Put your hands behind my neck-- good girl,” Dean says.  Your dress has a slit up the left leg; Dean pushes it up until the slit starts at your hip and reaches through.  “Fuck,” he breathes when he feels your slick sliding down your thigh, “you’re dripping for me, aren’t you babygirl?”

“Yes,” you whimper.  “Yes Alpha.”

“Tilt your hips up a little-- other way.  Let me get at that pussy.  Good girl, just like that,” Dean says, and you gasp as he touches you there, gentle pressure through the fabric of your panties.  You’ve tried doing that for yourself a few times but it never felt like this, nothing like this.

“Do you like this?” Dean asks.  “Does it feel good?  You have to tell me babygirl, I can’t read your mind.  Be a good girl and tell me.”

“Feels good,” you say through a tight throat.  “Feels so good, Alpha.”

“Makes your pussy feel good?”  You nod, biting your lip.  “Say it babygirl, tell me I’m making your pussy feel good.”

“Making my pussy feel so good,” you whine, being a good girl for Alpha.  Just the idea, being a good girl for Alpha, makes you weak, makes you want to fall to the floor and Present right now, let Alpha take you right there next to the umbrella stand and whatnot table.  “Please,” you moan, feeling the bliss adding and multiplying and clinging to Dean otherwise you’re going to fly apart.  “Please Alpha--”

“Come for me Omega, be a good girl and come in your panties for me.”  You choke on a whimpering howl as the coil in your middle snaps and pure pleasure floods every cell in your body.  Dean kisses you through it, swallowing all your moans and whines.

“Shhh, quiet babygirl,” Dean says as you beg him for anything, everything, just more.  “You need to get a shower and get some sleep and I need to go.”

“No Alpha, please, I need you, I need your knot, please--”

“Shhhh.”  He holds you until your body stops shaking, until your legs can hold you up on their own.  “It’s okay Omega.  I’ll be here when you need me.”

“I need you now,” you beg.

“If I get inside you right now,” Dean tells you, his voice hoarse, “I’ll last for almost ten whole seconds.  And to take care of you the way I want to, I’m going to need to be better than ten seconds.”  He gulps.  “A lot better.”

“No,” you moan as he puts your hands back down at your sides and sinks to his knees.  Your panties slither down your shaking legs and you almost fall taking your feet out of them.  Your pussy clenches and fresh slick floods out of you as Dean noses you through your dress, and from the look in his eyes it’s causing him physical pain to tear himself away from you.

“It’s okay,” he says, pulling you into a hug and kissing you, deep and desperate.  “Be good for me, go in and get some sleep.  I’ll call you tomorrow.”

And he’s gone, stuffing your slicked panties into his pocket.

---

The next day you float through your TA hours for Professor Visnyak and writhe through your Issues In Classical Archeology lecture, mind full of Dean and body longing for same.  In the cold routine of your life as usual he doesn’t seem real, like you were visited by some fairy prince with a taste for virgin Omegas.  You keep catching yourself sniffing at the air, searching for Dean’s sweet, smoky Alpha scent.

Your phone beeps a notification as you grind through a stack of Geology papers written by freshmen with zero interest in the topic, nibbling at a sad excuse for a Caesar salad and wielding a red pen like a Sith lightsaber.  Thinking it’s your father confirming he made it to Florida with the rest of the snowbirds you swipe the unlock and damn near drop the phone when you see a selfie of Dean posed next to the open hood of his car.  You barely believe it but in casual clothes and sporting some whiskers he’s even more handsome, and you thank God for the foresight that caused you to wear a liner in your panties today and double up on the scent blockers.

hi bbygrl

changing babys oil

whatre u up to?

Giggling, you lay your head on the pile of papers covering the TA’s desk and pose like you’d fainted, red pen clutched in your hand.

Grading.

Barf.

You set your phone down and go back to work, but a moment later it chimes again.

giv all As

less time, students luv u

After a moment’s thought, you type.

And miss making freshmen business majors suffer?  Can’t do it.

A second later, Dean replies.

as u were

(devil face)

---

RU on FB?

Yes but I barely use it.

When he asks you text your username.  The app on your phone chirps with a notification-- DM Winchester wants to be Friends.  Smiling, you accept the request.

would u do something 4 me?

Depends.  What?

take a picture every day

doesn’t hav 2B selfie

just whatevr ur doing or looking at right then

hav 2 go out of town a few days

might not B able to text every day

Out of town?  Why?

family bizness

10 hr drive to ks

HATE flying

do that 4 me?

Okay.  Why?  My life’s boring.

The three little I’m thinking bubbles bounce for several minutes before Dean’s answer pops up.

not 2 me

bbygrl

(kiss face)

---

Another thing Dean said to you on the bench that night’s been bouncing around in your head.  You’ve always just sort of taken everybody’s word for it that Family money is accessible to you, but only under certain conditions and only if somebody else approves.  When you posit the question -- in carefully worded hypotheticals on a Q&A forum run by the university law department -- the answer comes back to consult a specialist in inheritance law to be sure, but since you’re eighteen now and legally an adult, that might not be the case anymore.

You also do some reading on Alpha-typical body language.  Because you had to be overreacting, right?  Zachariah had just caught you in a strange mood, Omega instincts working like they’re supposed to for the first time in your life and preening under Dean’s focused attention.  But the more you read, the colder and more repulsed you feel.

“You’re awfully quiet.  Is something the matter?”

Screwing up your nerve, you ask, “Uncle Balthazar, do you know if Mother made arrangements for me in her will?”

“Of course she did dear, she met with Chuck’s people when she first got sick and had everything put in order.  You’ll never want for anything, she made sure of that.  Why do you ask?”

You hesitate.  “Why did Zachariah really pay for Dean to go out with me?”

Uncle Balthazar sighs.  “Sweetheart he was worried.  We all were.  It isn’t normal for a young and healthy Omega like you to show zero interest in Alphas.  He thought that once you’d had a complete heat, whatever the problem was would sort itself out.”

“I looked it up.  According to the doctor’s guidelines being a virgin isn’t something to be worried about unless an Omega’s almost thirty, not eighteen!  And the way Rebecca talked-- I mean, she didn’t come right out and say Zachariah would cut me off if I didn’t do it but she didn’t have to.  And as far as making people talk, compared to the crap Uncle Gabriel gets up to, me being a frigid bore isn’t news.”

Uncle Balthazar doesn’t say anything.  You sag against the kitchen counter, the strength going out of your legs.  God you wish Dean were here, warm and solid and safe.  The Omega in you craves Alpha’s protection, and you don’t like it but the rational parts of you agree right now.

“Uncle Balthazar--”

“This isn’t something we should discuss over the phone, cherie.  Your Uncle Gabriel and I are flying back to Michigan.  We’ll be there tomorrow morning.  Can you meet us for breakfast?”

You mentally reshuffle your day.  “I think so.  At the café?”  The café is the tearoom overlooking the river in the hotel owned by the Family.  Everybody eats there.

“No, we need somewhere we won’t be paid attention to.  That luncheonette in Caledonia Gabe likes, eight AM tomorrow.  We’ll see you there.”

You just stand there speechless, the hum of a broken connection ringing in your ear.

---

Later that day you’re bent over a table in the library, grinding through your Introduction to Statistics homework and listening to Mindless Self Indulgence.

Your phone vibrates.  It's Dean-- where r u?

Campus library.  Stats homework.

Kill me now.

nope.

bad luck to kill someone when ur holding their underwear

(leering face)

You gasp, covering your mouth when you see dirty looks coming from the other students.

DEAN!

A hand taps your shoulder and you almost hop straight to Heaven.  Dean's got a hand over his mouth turning red from holding in a huge laugh.  You drop your Statistics text and throw your arms around his neck, kissing the laugh right out of his mouth.

Some sarcastic soul starts a round of applause.

"Thank you, thank you, you're a wonderful crowd, try the veal, tip your waiter," Dean says, waving it off.  “I come bearing caffeine,” he tells you, plunking a carrying caddy with two big cups and a baggie full of sugar and creamer and flavoring packets on the table.

“Oh bitter fuel of life, come to me,” you sigh, grabbing one of the cups and taking a long sip of the hot black liquid.

“You take it black,” Dean says, like he’s making a mental note.

“Just like my metal,” you cap the line, but not surprisingly Dean doesn’t catch it.

“Quick-- favorite Led Zeppelin song,” Dean says.

“Houses of the Holy,” you say without thinking.  “Yours?”

“Ramble On.  Can you take a break?  Just for a few minutes?”

“Sure, I was about done here anyway,” you say, packing your stuff.

---

“This is where you took your picture day before yesterday isn’t it?” Dean asks as you walk with him across the pedestrian bridge spanning a deep crease in the earth cut when the glaciers retreated.  Far below a streamlet of rain runoff flows down into a storm drain.  The trees growing on the edges of each slope are in full color, brilliant oranges and yellows and one maple tree that turns purple-red every year.  Dean points to it.  “I recognize that tree.”

“Mmm-hmm.”  You sit on a bench set against the bridge railing.  Dean doesn’t sit with you.  Instead he goes to his knees in front of you and wraps you in his arms, nose pressed against the side of your neck.  You breathe him in and shut your eyes as Alpha’s scent wraps your spirit in warmth.  You turn your head and Dean’s right there, meeting your lips in a tender kiss.

“Missed you,” Dean says.

“Me too,” you admit.  “A lot.”  It’s been two weeks and feels like a million fucking years.

You put your hands on either side of Dean’s face, feeling his afternoon scruff scrape your palms.  In daylight he looks even more gorgeous than he did that night, sunshine picking up golden and coppery tones in his hair and bringing out amber tones in his green eyes.  But there’re deep shadows under his eyes and his skin is too pale.  You’ve spent too much time around people functioning on caffeine and stress to miss the signs.  “Are you okay?  You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Good guess.  I’ve been driving since four this morning.  I gotta go home and crash but I wanted to see you first.”

“Aw,” you kiss him again, smiling.  “I can spare an hour until my next class if you want to grab a snack or something.”

“I can’t babygirl  I’ve gotta get a few hours rack time.  I got a job tonight.”

You stiffen.  The reminder of just what it is Dean does for a living feels like a faceful of icy water.

Dean’s arms are firm around you and before you can get up enough torque to really struggle he clarifies, “Not that kind of job.  It’s a bodyguard gig.”

“Oh.”  You hang your head.  It’s not like you didn’t know the score, and you’re both adults, and it’s really not appropriate for an Omega to get possessive.  You’ve known Dean a grand total of a fortnight and change.  You don’t have any special claim on his time.  Or his body.

Like hell I don’t, that Omega-voice says, quiet but steely.

“Bodyguard?”

“I spent a few years in the Army.  I got good reflexes, I’m a dead shot, and I can do double-duty as arm candy.”

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly.  “It’s not really any of my business.”

“Before you ask,” Dean says, “I take the other kind of gigs because the pay is about ten times better and there’s a lot more demand.”

Assuming Dean can’t talk about his job particulars, you change the subject.  “Can you meet me tomorrow for, I dunno, lunch or dinner or something?”

“I should be back in town after seven.  We could get something to eat, sure.”  Dean sits back on his heels, your hands held in his.  “Is something wrong babygirl?”

Briefly you explain what you’d found out poking around online.  “I tried to talk to Uncle Balthazar about it but he told me he didn’t want to talk about it over the phone.”

Dean swears.  “I hate it when you’re right Sammy,” he grumbles.

"What?"

"I mentioned my brother's in law school, right?"  You nod.  "Last time I talked to him I asked him whether or not you could get locked out of any family trusts after you turned eighteen."

"From what I found, I need to talk to an actual lawyer for a definitive answer," you say.

"That's what he said too, but he pointed something else out."  Dean squeezes your hands.  "Look, I hope I'm wrong about your uncle.  I . . . I could've been overreacting, I really don't like watching Alphas act like that around Omegas.  Especially when it's family."

"But," you prompt.

Dean sighs.  "Imagine how it looks to anybody who doesn't know you.  Grew up rich--"

"Not hardly."

"Let me finish.  By the standards of people who make up most of the taxpaying public around here you grew up with a silver spoon up your butt, okay?"

You roll your eyes but concede his point.

"Never been in a serious relationship, never been in a casual relationship," Dean goes on.  "From the info Mr. Adler provided, you've barely even dated.  Then you go out in public with a," he grimaces a little, you're not sure he knows he's doing it, "professional escort once, and all of a sudden you want access to the family checkbook?"

You feel your face drop in shock.  You'd thought your parents raised you as a rational, skeptical, borderline cynical person.  Not even close.  "To anyone who doesn't know me," you echo Dean's phrasing, "I either look impossibly naive or like a greedy bitch.  Emphasis bitch.  And you look--"

"--like a knothead asshole taking advantage of an Omega kid with a crush."  Dean smiles into your ashamed face.  "Don't worry about me babygirl, I can take care of my own reputation.  Such as it is.  I'm just saying, until you know for sure whether or not your uncle's trying to do something shady--"

"--I probably shouldn't be talking to you about it," you finish.  You feel like you need to curl up and cry.  The list of friends you can take something like this to doesn't exist; the few who don't have some sort of connection to the Family, you don't feel you know them well enough to confide in.  Not something like this.

"Hey," Dean says softly, brushing a hank of hair back off your face, palming your jaw.  "Whatever happens, I got your back.  Count on that."

"I do," you say, meaning it.  "Meet me anyway?  I just . . ." you laugh a little helplessly, "I don't care if all we do is fall asleep on the couch watching the Lions lose."

Dean looks down a second, his Adam's apple bobbing on a gulp.  When he looks into your eyes again, your mouth goes dry.  "Babygirl.  The next time I get you in private, we will not be sleeping."

---

You're still flushed from all the thoughts that sentence put in your head as you walk into the Salt Shaker Grill the next morning and find Uncle Balthazar and Uncle Gabriel at the corner table.  With them, to your surprise, is your cousin Castiel. 

"Darling," Uncle Balthazar says, standing and kissing your cheek.  "You look well.  Infatuation agrees with you."

"Yeah, you're all pink and glowy," Uncle Gabriel adds with a sardonic little grin.  "Who are you and what've you done with our girl?"

"Up yours Uncle Gabe," you say.

"I took the liberty," Uncle Balthazar says, pointing to a plate heavy with bacon and eggs, toast on the side.  "You hardly eat enough to keep a mosquito alive."

"Okay kiddo," Uncle Gabriel says after giving you a minute with your breakfast.  "Before we tell you why we wanted to talk face-to-face, I need you to be honest with me.  Okay?"

"Sure Uncle Gabe," you say.

"What exactly happened, to make you ask Balthy why Zach went and hired an escort for you?"

You explain about the incident at Great-Aunt Naomi's birthday gala.  When you tell about how Zachariah touched your neck, Uncle Balthazar interrupts, "Show me how he touched you, love."

You put your hand just under where your neck becomes your skull and squeeze.  The Alphas at the table exchange a look.  "I thought I was just-- I don't know, maybe the shrimp wasn't agreeing with me?  Dean told me Alphas do that as a dominance gesture."

"Yes they do," Uncle Balthazar says.  "Pressure, right in those spots," he rubs just behind one ear, "stimulates the pheromone glands.  It's a little like rubbing the small of a woman's back."

"That's a foreplay move, kiddo," Uncle Gabriel says.  "When Balthazar told me about it, I thought it was Zach just being a dick.  He gets like that sometimes when he drinks.  The only time you're around Zach is at Family crap like that party.  You're never alone with him."

"But it occurred to me," Uncle Balthazar says, more serious than you've ever seen him, "that that's not true."

"I saw the incident," Castiel says in his gravely voice, making you look at him in surprise.  You vaguely remember seeing Castiel at an adjoining table, deep in conversation with his date and not paying much attention to the party.  Castiel's a shy duck, and a bit socially awkward.  He works with Zachariah, one of the many spiders keeping the money web snug.  "I'm sorry I didn't intervene.  By the time I realized what was happening, your escort had already taken control of the situation."

"Zach insists on vetting your class schedule and making out your tuition payments personally, right?" Uncle Gabriel asks.

"Yeah, every semester."  You shrug.  "I take him my schedule, he pretends to be interested, he makes a big production out of writing the check, and I leave."

"And are you alone with him when you have these meetings?" Uncle Balthazar asks.

"Yeah," you say.

Uncle Balthazar hesitates.  "Darling, please know I love you and I would never do anything to hurt you.  But we have to know.  When Zachariah's alone with you, does he do things like this?"  He takes your hand and his thumb rubs the nerve cluster just below your wrist.  He puts an arm around you as though to hug you but his fingers press into your waist in a way that makes your breath catch.  His hands span your back, one between the shoulderblades and one low on your spine.  You can feel him tracing your bra strap as he pulls you close, pressing your breasts into his chest.

"Stop that," you say, pulling back.

"You legit didn't realize those were dominance gestures."  It's not a question.

"As I pointed out," Uncle Balthazar says to Uncle Gabriel, "she wouldn't.  Most of us learn those tells as we start dating.  Or by watching our parents."

"Except your parents were both Betas, and you don't date," Uncle Gabriel concludes.  "Puts kind of an unpleasant spin on Zach hiring a sex worker to pop your cherry."

"Oh for God's sake Gabriel," Uncle Balthazar says, "have a little consideration for the child's feelings will you?"

"She's not a child Balthy," Uncle Gabriel says.  "Us overlooking that is the whole reason this has gone as far as it has."

You push your plate aside, the appeal of the food gone.  "What am I going to do?  I have at least six more years until I get my PhD and financial aid is out of the question."

"That will never be a problem,” Uncle Gabriel says.  “Even if Zach cuts you off you'll be taken care of.  We owe your mother that much.  I'm putting that in writing."

"Me too."  Uncle Balthazar tips you a wink.  "Not all of our money is Family money, cherie."

"Overseeing the Family trusts is part of my job duties," Castiel says.  "Your mother set up a trust in your name when she had her will updated, to be held by the Family until you turned eighteen.  The process of turning that trust over to you should have begun months ago.  When I asked Zachariah, he told me things was on hold until your summer break when you would be free for court dates."

"Except that doesn't make sense," Uncle Gabriel says.  "Your birthday was in January.  Chuck's a gutless wonder but it's not like him to be inefficient."

A silence falls over the table.  You sense a boundary’s about to be crossed, and you ask, "Why didn't you want to talk about this over the phone Uncle Balthazar?"

"Because if what I think is happening is happening," Uncle Balthazar tells you, "it dovetails rather neatly with some suspicions Gabriel and I have had for years."

"We think Zach's been filching the Family fortune," Uncle Gabriel says it, bald and ugly.

"Irregularities have been appearing consistently in the bookkeeping," Castiel says, his usual frown deeper than usual as your mouth drops open in shock.  "Someone going to improbable lengths to conceal cash transactions, source and destination."

"The only people who have the access to do that kind of Catch Me Fuck Me with the books are the Old Lady," Gabriel is the only one alive who gets away with calling Great-Aunt Naomi the Old Lady, "Michael," the public face of the Family, "Raphael," the Family politician and a state representative in Lansing, "and Zachariah."

"Naomi has no motive or need.  Neither does Michael.  Raphael wouldn't be that stupid, not while he's running on an austerity platform, a corruption charge would destroy him politically," Uncle Balthazar says, ticking his points off on his fingers.  "Until recently, I would have said Zachariah had no motive or need either."

"You don't know him the way I do, Balthy," Uncle Gabriel says.  "Zach's always relied on being the Old Lady's favorite son.  I don't like thinking this way, kiddo," he says to you, "but if he's doing what I think he's doing, he's going to start openly courting you to mate and he's worked really fucking hard to make you think you had to stay in his good graces or risk losing everything."

"Oh my God," you say, swallowing hard to keep from throwing up your eggs over.  "He can't do that-- he's my fucking uncle--"

"Great-uncle, a few times removed," Castiel corrects.  "Legally there would be no barrier."

"Legally shit!"

"Agreed, my love," Uncle Balthazar says.  "Zachariah miscalculated when he purchased your new friend's services.  Fresh eyes see clear.”

Zachariah?  Thinking of you as his?  "I'm gonna be sick," you croak and scramble for the ladies room.

---

“It wasn’t your fault Pamela,” Uncle Gabriel’s explaining to a dark-haired woman in an apron.  “My niece just got some really crappy news.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologize on your own behalf.  “Everything was really good.”

The woman’s stern expression melts.  “Oh that’s okay sugar.  Do you want me to bring you some ginger ale?  It’ll help settle your stomach.”

“Thank you,” you nod.

“So anyway,” Uncle Gabriel says, “what Balth and Cas told me got me thinking.  Cas doesn’t have any hard proof Zach’s been skimming, he’s just the likeliest suspect.”

You remember what Dean said and just like that you know something.  “It’s Chuck isn’t it?  Chuck’s covering for him.”

“Very good,” Uncle Gabriel says, giving you a chilly smile.  “And if Chuck is dirty, none of us are safe.  He knows where all the bodies are buried.”

“Literally?”

“Best you be able to say for the record that we never answered that question,” Uncle Balthazar tells you, and you hush up.  Balthazar’s role in the Family business has never been completely explained to you.  “Look, the point is, if Zachariah’s been foolish enough to illegally block your access to your mother’s money, and if we can prove it, it could be the smoking gun we need.”

“We get control of the Family business away from Zach, we get Chuck disbarred and possibly thrown in jail, and we avoid a situation with the IRS and the Feds,” Uncle Gabriel winds it all up.  “If the law gets involved we could lose everything.”

“Not everyone in the Family has independent support,” Uncle Balthazar says, “and while I couldn’t give a damn about some of them that list includes you.”

“Okay,” you say, accepting the cool cup of ginger ale from Marybeth.  “What do you need me to do?”

“For right now?  Act normal,” Uncle Gabriel says.  “I know you’re still seeing this Dean guy--”

“Don’t ask me to stop.”

“I wouldn’t kiddo,” Uncle Gabriel says.  “Balth tells me you two hit it off.  Big time.”

“They certainly smelled very cozy with each other,” Uncle Balthazar says.

“The way Mr. Winchester immediately acted to keep her away from Zachariah,” Castiel observes, “it was not the action of a detached professional.  A detached professional would have been more concerned about appeasing his patron than ensuring your comfort.”

“I’m not going to be the one telling you to quit seeing a guy who was ready to throw down for you an hour after meeting you,” Gabriel says.  “But for the love of God be careful.  If Zachariah starts throwing money around--”

“Dean wouldn’t do that,” you defend your Alpha.

“Not saying he would.  I did some digging,” Uncle Gabriel says, “and a quick hundred thousand would solve all sorts of problems for him.  Zach can write that kind of check, easy.  He probably spends more replacing the towels in the hotel after New Year’s.”

“And if someone got the idea Dean was only seeing you to get access to Family money,” Uncle Balthazar says.

“That’s what he said.”  You tell them about the conversation the two of you had earlier.

“Guy’s not a complete dumbass,” Uncle Gabriel notes.

“And he’s completely besotted with her.  Anyone with eyes could see it,” Uncle Balthazar says.

“I agree,” Castiel adds.

“When do you see him again?” Uncle Gabriel asks.

“Later today.”

“If he tells you that his boss, or Zach, or Chuck got in touch with him and asked him to do something with you off-contract,” Uncle Gabriel says, “you need to tell me right away.  An unscrupulous escort can make a lot of extra money in blackmail too.  I’m not saying,” he says, holding up a hand as you open your mouth, “that Dean would.  Just the insinuation might be enough to fuck us up.”

“Zachariah,” never again will you think of him as Uncle, “is acting like he’s my Alpha-in-waiting.  Is blackmail an option for us?”

“That’s not a discussion you need to be privy to.  You neither, Castiel.  Let us old men handle the scheming,” Uncle Balthazar says.

The four of your rise and Uncle Gabriel leaves a pile of tens on the table.  “Thanks Pamela.  Take her easy.”

“Incidentally,” Uncle Balthazar says as he escorts you to your car, “I’ll be staying with your Aunt Anna whilst I’m in town.  You young people might need a little privacy.”

“You’re supposed to tell me Dean’s a prostitute and I can’t trust anything he says or does is real,” you say, feeling very tired suddenly.

“Darling, how often do you think a professional takes time out of their day to just take their clients for a walk?  Or leave absurd little memes on their social media?  Or indulge your ridiculous love for cartoons?”  Uncle Balthazar puts his arm around your shoulders, an affectionate, comforting weight.  You take in his familiar scents of lilies and sandalwood.  “I’m not going to say it’ll be anything lasting, cherie.  First loves almost never are.  But just because a relationship proves temporary, that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worthwhile.”

“Better to have loved and lost?”

“Good God, no.  The only person who can decide what’s an acceptable risk when it comes to your heart is you.  Don’t let our cynicism ruin a chance at a little genuine happiness.”

His characteristic smirk reappears.  “And do try not to break any of the furniture.”

---

“You can sight-read Latin?”

Dean shrugs, picking a cheese stick out of the basket.  “Long story.  And wouldn’t you know-- none of the high schools I went to would give me a language credit for it.”

You look up from the pictures you took in lab, of linen and parchment scrids covered with heavy block printing.  “How may times did you change schools?”

“Lost count,” Dean says.  “When I finally gave up I was like two years behind.”

“Why?” you ask.  “You’re a smart guy.”

“That’s an even longer story, babygirl.”

You put your phone down.  “I have time.  These damn parchments have waited three hundred years.  They can wait another couple minutes.”

Dean stares at you, taking a sip of his drink.  The two of you are holding down a table in your favorite greasy spoon just off downtown, Harvelle’s Filling Station.  It’s open 24 hours and the management doesn’t care if you take a few hours to get some homework done in the relative peace and quiet.  The urge to apologize for prying comes but this time you resist.

“Our-- me’n’Sammy, our mom died when I was four and Sam was a baby.  House fire.”

“Oh God, I’m sorry,” you say.  You reach for Dean but he shifts out of your reach.  It hurts, but you leave your hand there, an invitation for Dean to take or leave.

“Dad never got over it.  Something up here,” Dean taps his temple, “just broke.  He started saying he saw someone in Sammy’s room, that whoever it was was out to get us.  Then our grandma died of a stroke and he started drinking.

“Would you believe until I got my discharge the longest I ever lived anywhere was ten months?  Dad would move us somewhere, get a job -- legal or otherwise -- we’d start to settle in, but then the nightmares would start up again.  He’d disappear a lot, sometimes for weeks.”

“Jesus.  Who was taking care of you?”

“We took care of ourselves, pretty much,” Dean says.  “But it got bad sometimes.  Dad would come home and start screaming at us in Latin, crazy shit about the sixty-six seals and the end of the world.  I forged a work permit when I was thirteen and started working.  Did a lot of other shit I’m not proud of.”  Dean shrugs.  “School just wasn’t as important as making sure Sammy was fed and safe.  I got caught hustling poker when I was seventeen and the DA gave me a choice-- Army or jail.  I picked Army.  At least then Sammy got a steady income.”

“Where were you deployed?”

“Afghanistan.  Three years into my contract, my Uncle Bobby had a heart attack and I got a hardship discharge to come back and take care of him and Sam.  Don’t look at me like that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like I’m some three legged puppy or something.  Dad’s okay, Sam’s okay, I’m okay.  That’s what matters.”

You can’t help it though.  It’s too damn easy to picture Dean as an underfed kid fighting tooth and claw to keep everybody’s shit together.  Dean comes by his cynicism honestly, you realize, more honestly than you in any case.

“Anyway, it’s not your job to take care of me.”

“I thought we left the job thing about six exits back,” you say.

“Not what I meant,” Dean says.  “I’m an Alpha.  Alphas take care of Omegas.”

“If we’re bringing designations into it,” you say, “it’s just as valid to say,” you point your thumb back at yourself, “I’m the Omega, it’s my job to be caring and nurturing to my Alpha.”

A light comes in Dean’s eyes and he smiles.  “Your Alpha?”

You replay your last sentence.  “Did I say that?”

“Yep.”  Now Dean takes your hand, bringing it up to scent your wrist.  He meets you halfway across the table for a soft kiss.

“Hey hey hey,” the night shift fry cook says.  “Get a room you two.  This is a family place.”

“I gotta go,” Dean says, getting into his coat.  “I got an appointment BFE then I have to go out of town again.”  He pauses.  “You’re on cycle meds, right?”

You nod.  You have to be, in order to get the necessary time away from school to deal with your heats.

“When do your meds change?”

“Sunday.”  Switching from suppressant to contraceptive means a heat within 24 hours.

“Call me the second-- the second, you start getting the shakes.  You hear me?”

“Yes Alpha,” you say.

The frission of nerves must show on your face, because Dean smiles and gives you another kiss.  “Try not to worry babygirl,” he says softly.  “I’ll make it good.  I swear, I’ll make it good.  Take such good care of you.”

“Yes,” you moan, ever so softly.

---

A couple of days later you’re in the lab wading through a dig site inventory reconcile.  Behind the dust mask over your face you wiggle your nose and sniffle like some kind of half-assed rabbit.  Every damn time you mask up you get a runny nose.

It’s a relief when your phone purrs with a bass guitar D chord, the custom sound you picked out for Dean’s number.  A break would be lovely right now.  Going into the other room you unmask and blow your nose.

morning bbygrl

gimme a smile?

You snap a mirror selfie of yourself blowing your nose.

Stupid dust.

Dean replies with a laugh-to-tears face, and you respond with The Finger.

do u know this guy?

A second later your phone flashes a fuzzy pic of a dark-haired square-jawed man wearing a motorcycle jacket.

That’s Mr. Ketch.

PI that works for family law firm, Sturley and Kline.

I think hes tailing me

unless there’s another reason for him 2B in lansing

Maybe?  Uncle Raphael lives in Lansing.

Why are YOU in Lansing?

Dean texts back an embarrassed blushy face.

speeding tix

wasn’t paying attn

nailed doing 88 in 70

You reply with an eye roll.

ur fault

comin home 2U

You took a speeding ticket for me?

(Bambi eyes)

break speed limits

crash barricades

slay dragons

wash dishes

don’t do windows

mans gotta draw the line somewhere

---

Sunday is the one day a week you make it a point to leave completely open.  After Mass at St. Mary’s By The Freeway, you wrap yourself up in your overcoat and stroll across a couple parking lots to the Filling Station for a late breakfast.

“Hey-hey!”  The peace of your divinely mandated day of rest dies bloody as you spy Zachariah leaning against your car.  “There’s my favorite niece!”  He pulls you into a crushing hug and you almost gag when you get a noseful of stagnant water and wet dead leaves.

“Good morning Uncle Zachariah,” you say warmly even though your lips have gone numb.  Now that you know what to look for, Zachariah’s body language screams of overbearing Alpha.  Nothing at all like Dean.  Dean, dammit, where is he?  You need Alpha, like right fucking now please.  “Join me for breakfast?”

“Sure.  I could eat.  Meet me at the hotel?”

You tic your head at the Filling Station.  “I usually eat here after church.  Their omelets are delicious.”  And the owner knows your face.

Zachariah’s smile does that souring thing.  “Sure.  Good to get out of the comfort zone once in a while.”

Because apparently you’re a closet sadist you order Zachariah an Ash Special with extra peppers, just the sort of thing to give him heartburn the rest of the day.  Zachariah sits on the booth bench like it’s covered in something nasty and his nose wrinkles at the stench of cigarette smoke.

“So!” he says, as you attack your omelet and gulp coffee, “big day tomorrow.”

You pause.  How did he know your heat’s coming-- your omelet turns to ashes in your mouth.  The university requires Alphas and Omegas to give estimates of the days you have to be absent because of ruts and heats.  That’s why Zachariah insists on vetting your schedule even though he’s utterly indifferent as to your field of interest.  He’s been following your cycle for the past two years, at least.

Swallowing the bite in your mouth, you smile at him, coquettish little Omega.  “Yeah.  I’m a little nervous, but Dean was so nice at the party.”

“Oh boy,” Zachariah sighs.  “Sweetheart, there isn’t an easy way to tell you this so I’m just going to tell you.  Out of his ever-present briefcase Zachariah pulls a folder stamped with the Sturley and Kline logo.  Your blood runs cold when you see the name printed on the tab-- WINCHESTER, D.M.

“The escort service Dean works for wasn’t totally honest about his background,” Zachariah says as you flip open the folder.  “Because Dean’s bonded we assumed he had no criminal record.  He doesn’t because it was all sealed as part of a plea bargain-- the prosecution agreed to seal his juvenile record and drop an assault charge on the condition he enlist in the Army.”

This is shocking but not for the reasons Zachariah thinks.  Your flip past photocopies of newspaper columns you’ve already read.  Based on the biographical information provided by the escort service and the things Dean had told you . .   my God, in this exact spot, you’d gone and done a little research.  In the process you’d gathered enough background about the Winchesters of Lawrence, Kansas to confirm Dean’s story-- the fire, his mother’s death, his father’s eroding sanity, everything.  You know the “assault” charge was Dean breaking some high school senior’s jaw when he caught the bastard beating up his little brother.  You also knew his father lived in Kansas instead of Michigan because he was forbidden to leave the state as a condition of his suspended federal prison sentence.  John Winchester’s luck with evading the law had finally run out when he was caught with a cache of narcotics and a bunch of bomb fixings and assault weapons.  Homeland Security had even gone so far as to put John on a terrorist watch list, never mind he’d been living quietly in an assisted living community in Topeka since his sentencing.

“Wha-- what are you saying?  You think Dean might hurt me?” you ask in a tiny voice.

“I think where there’s smoke there’s fire.  He spent years living on mail fraud and credit card scams while his crazy father ran around screaming about the end of the world.  I know, you’re a tough kid but you’re still so young.  I don’t want to take the chance of him claiming you and acting like he can help himself to your money.”

“No, no he wouldn’t do that,” you say, mind racing to write the script a few lines ahead.  “Besides, except for pocket money I don’t have anything to my name except my car.”

“I know that but he might not,” Zachariah says, leaning forward into intimate space.  “Don’t worry baby.  When Chuck called the escort service they terminated the contract and offered us another Alpha.”

“No!” you snap, panicking.  “Uncle Zachariah, I can’t go to bed with a total stranger.  I can’t, I can’t, please don’t make me--"

“Hey hey hey, shh, that’s enough,” Zachariah soothes, pulling your head forward and kissing your forehead.  “If it makes you feel more comfortable we’ll wait until your next heat.”

You nod, sniffling back genuine tears.  “Thank you.”

Zachariah settles back into his seat.  He takes your hands at the wrists, encircling them like handcuffs.  “I know it hurts,” he says, “going through your heats alone.  Hopefully this one will be the last one.  The escort agency offered to keep this Alpha available for you if you want.”

Just what you always wanted, your very own professional mistress.  “And Dean?”

“You’ll never have to see him again.  Chuck has Mr. Ketch tailing him.  Last report says he’s driving towards St. Louis in that ridiculous land yacht of his.”

You nod, gulping.  “Thank you, Uncle Zachariah.”

“Just looking out for my favorite niece,” he says, with that who-loves-ya-babe smirk.  He gets up, leaving his food barely touched.  “Go home, get some rest.  Do you want some company?  I could call Rebecca to come stay with you--"

“No thank you Uncle Zachariah.”  You paste a weak smile on your face.  “I have a paper I need to finish.  I wouldn’t be very good company.”

Zachariah doesn’t have a reply to that, and after an uncomfortably close embrace he leaves.

Once he’s safely out of sight you plonk your head on the table and concentrate on keeping your food down.  You manage, but it’s close.

“You okay sugar?”  Ellen, the Filling Station’s owner and manager asks, coming over with a fresh pour of coffee.  “Something wrong with Ash’s cooking?  I’ll fire him right now if you want.”

“Not the food.  The food’s fine,” you say.

“Who was that guy?” Ellen asks as she tops you off.

“My uncle,” you say.  “And after the conversation I just had I may never eat again.”

---

You didn’t tell me you got fired.

The dots dance.

?!

they didnt fire me I quit

“What?” you ask it as you type it.

More dot polka.  This time it goes on for a full five minutes.  Finally, a text pops up.

do u hav time 4 vid chat?

You look around from your driver’s seat.  The parking lot is empty and deserted.  A wind sweeps at stray oak leaves with a sound like castanets clacking.  Autumn in Michigan can get pretty damn dreary, you think.  Right now you don’t mind, it matches your mood.

You call and a moment later Dean’s face fills the screen.  He looks tired, but his smile is still like the sun coming up. “Hey babygirl.”

“Hi Dean.”

“What’s wrong?  You look like a guest at your own autopsy.”

“Zachariah ambushed me on the way out of church this morning.  He told me the escort agency terminated your contract because you lied about having a criminal record.”

Dean’s smile dies.  “Babygirl I can explain.”

“Dean.”  You hold up your hand.  “Please don’t be mad at me.”  You explain about what you’d found on the Internet.

“You couldn’t have just asked me?” he says, and you can tell he’s fighting not to lose his temper.

“I did ask you,” you point out.  “When I found your Dad’s arrest record, I figured you’d tell me when you were ready.”  You take a breath.  “Dean, I don’t care.  If you were the kind of Alpha Zachariah wants me to think you are, you wouldn’t care enough to be kind to me.

“I’m seducing you, you idiot.  I do it for a living!”

“Oh yeah, a cup of coffee and a fingerbang and we might as well be bonded.  Take me, I’m yours,” you drawl sarcastically.  “Besides, Zachariah probably made it a point to tell you every single last thing about me, up to and including the time I got caught shoplifting candy bars from the party store near my parents’ cottage in Indian River.”

“Three Musketeers?”

“I was a nougat fiend at the time.”  You replay your last sentence.  “I was kidding but he seriously told you about that?”

“Said your mom had you on a diet that summer.”

Thank God, it looks like you’ve pulled the fangs from Dean’s anger.  “What do you mean, you quit?”

Dean sighs.  “It’s why I’ve been having to go out of town so much lately.  The place Dad lives in isn’t cheap, but they can make sure he stays sober and keeps up with his meds.  If I can come up with enough money to buy into his building, Medicare and Social Security will cover the monthly facility fees.”  Dean pauses.  “I’ve been fighting not to, but Sam finally talked me into selling our grandma’s old house in Lebanon.  Between the sale and what I got saved, I have enough.  Just barely.”

“Why hang onto the house for so long?” you ask.

“I always planned on moving back to Kansas after Sam finished school,” Dean says.  “Sam kept telling me I could do that anyway and we needed the cash more than the memories.”

You nod.  Given what you know of Dean, it was the memories that mattered, not the asset.

“Babygirl,” Dean goes on, “I didn’t say anything because it didn’t matter.  I don’t want to be with you because of a job, and . . .” he trails off a moment, thinking.  “I went in to see Becky and told her I wanted to stop doing full service.  She said that wasn’t acceptable, shit got spoken, and I walked.”

"Zachariah said the agency had another Alpha lined up and ready to go," you say.  "I told him I wanted to wait until my next cycle."

Dean doesn't say anything.  His eyes have gone glacial, and you're suddenly glad he's not in the car with you.

"I bought us some time.  Didn't I?" you ask, hating a little how small your voice sounds.

"I'm not angry at you, babygirl," Dean says, reading your face perfectly.  "I want you to get what you need to hole up for a few days and go home.  Do you still have the folder the agency gave you with the contract in it?"

"Yeah, it's on my desk."

"Look for the sheet with the red border.  It's the form saying you officially refuse the agency's services.  The instructions will tell you to take a picture of the form with your phone after you sign it and send it straight to Becky.  When someone from the agency calls for the follow-up report, tell them you got cold feet when you found out about my record.  After that, Zachariah stops being a concerned uncle and starts being a fucking pervert.”

"What about you?  Zachariah told me he has Mr. Ketch following you to make sure you stay away from me."

"Don't worry about me honey, I've dealt with guys who’re a lot scarier than him.  Give me fifteen minutes and a good rush hour.  I’ll lose him on the Indiana turnpike."

You nod.  "Dean?  I'm scared," you admit.  "I never really noticed it before, but Zachariah's always freaked me out a little."

"That's your Omega instincts, babygirl.  They knew he was bad before you did."

"But what if he decides to make a move?  I mean, directly?  I already changed meds this morning, I can’t risk skipping a cycle.  Last time I tried I had to go to the hospital.”

"Seizures?"

"Yeah."

"Don't do that.  Get home, lock the doors.  I’ll be there when I can.  Just hang in there.  You hear me?”

“But what if he pays somebody to--”

“Another Alpha touches you,” Dean says, his tone so cold you shrink in your seat, “over my dead body.”

---

The next hours feel a little anticlimactic by comparison.  You bury yourself in Statistics homework, seeking refuge in the total focus and concentration required.  When the elevator buzzer goes off you about drop dead of a heart attack.  "Miss?" Harold the parking lot concierge calls over the speaker in the foyer.  "There's a lady here to see you.  Says she’s from the agency."

The representative from the agency Dean mentioned.  "Yeah.  Buzz her through."

A minute later the elevator opens and an attractive redheaded woman in a black overcoat and power boots strides in like she owns the world.  Dark green eyes light on you and she smiles.  "Good evening.  I'm Abbadon."

"Hi," you say, your throat suddenly dry.  A scent of cinnamon candy and grilling meat is crawling up your nose, sharp and savory.  "You're here from the agency, right?"

"Yes darling.  Here at your service," she says, in the least servile tone you've ever heard.  She tsks, looking at you.  "Such a shame, to hide such a beauty," she says.

She's an Alpha.  Your brain blanks.  Trans-designations -- female Alphas and male Omegas -- are rarer than red diamonds.  You've only met one in your whole life, an Omega in high school everybody called Mick.  Abbadon pulls a deep breath in through her nose.  "You smell like roses, right after a rainstorm," she says, closing her eyes and sighing in pleasure.

"I think there's been a misunderstanding," you say.  "I signed the cancellation sheet and sent it to Ms. Rosen a few hours ago.  Your services aren't required."

"From that pretty blush," Abbadon says, coming closer and fixing your eyes with hers like a hypnotizing snake, "my services are very much required.  Your heat is coming, isn't it sweet?"  She closes her eyes and takes another draught of the air.  "So sweet."

She strokes your jawline with a finger, turning her wrist up.  On reflex, you scent her skin.  Abbadon's candy and cooking meat scent is pleasant, but that's all.  The memory of Dean’s perfect smoky sweetness makes you want to turn your nose up like an offended cat

"Oh dear," Abbadon says.  "It's Winchester isn't it?  You've imprinted on him and it makes you think you'll never quicken for another Alpha again."  She shakes her head, her expression warm and sympathetic, except for her eyes.  Her eyes are cold as lumps of green glass.  "That's normal, but it isn't real.  We provide company,” and she takes your hand, stroking the soft skin across the back, “and pleasure.  Not mates.”

“Unless you’re here to take down my reasons for refusing your service,” you practically squeeze the words out in a stilted run-on of sounds, “I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

“There’s no need to be frightened, Omega,” Abbadon says, still low and smoky.  She comes in closer, and you’re horrified to find yourself softening in the core.

“I’m straight,” you croak, “I don’t like girls.”

“When you’re wrapped around my knot, that won’t matter.  Designation always wins, Omega.” One hand, then the other, slides up each side of your neck.  You grab her wrists but she’s strong, you can’t pull her hands away.  Her palms press down against the pheromone glands in your neck and you gasp.  The glands are swelling with blood, filling the air with your enticing Omega scent.  The pressure sends a trickle of heat down through your body and your legs start to tremble.  “Designation always wins,” Abbadon repeats, coming closer and closer.

The elevator door buzzes and slides open.  You and Abbadon both jerk like you’ve been shot, and just like that whatever spell she’d been weaving breaks up and floats away.

Castiel comes in calling your name, and just behind him comes a tall, beefy man you don’t know.  “What’s going on?” he asks, looking at you with his striking blue eyes.

“It’s all right, I’m from the escort service, Rosen Entertainment?”  She smiles at Castiel.  “We were just introducing ourselves.”

“I thought she was here to do an exit interview,” you say, willing some strength back into your legs.  “I don’t want any servicing.”

Castiel, bless his bumblebee tie tack, deliberately shuffles a little to one side, putting himself fully between you and the woman Alpha.  “I believe there’s been a misunderstanding.  Consent has been withdrawn.”

Abbadon’s red lips part in a predatory grin.  “The Omega’s body is consenting.  It’s calling for an Alpha.”  She scents, and sighs.  “So sweet.  You smell it too, don’t you?”

Castiel’s shoulders go stiff.  “You’re in rut.”

She what?  You sniff the air, trying to sort out competing scents.  As you do, your knees do that wobbling thing and you sit on the coffee table.

“Of course.  The smell of an Alpha in rut relaxes timid Omegas.  They can’t help it.  You know that--"

“I do believe,” the beefy man says, his voice soft and round and Southern, “that you’ve been asked to leave.  However good this little girl smells she obviously don’t want what you’re sellin.”

He must be a Beta, you realize.  Otherwise he’d be reacting to the miasma of scent in the air.  He looks over at you and smiles.  “Hi there.  M’name’s Benjamin LaFitte.  Call me Benny.  I’m a friend of Dean’s.  He said to tell you he’s still got ‘em in his pocket.  Said you’d know what that meant.”

Groaning, you hide your red face in your hands.

“Figured it was sumpthin dirty.”  Cajun?  You think you can hear the French lurking under his sentences.

Abbadon’s not smiling any more.  “Sweetheart, this is ridiculous.  You need a knot.  You don't have be shy about your body and what it wants.”

“I said no,” you say.  You see the portfolio with the agency’s original contract and snatch it, flipping it open and showing the red-bordered page with your signature and date at the bottom.  “See?  Service refused.  I do not want this.”

“That only applies to Winchester’s service contract,” Abbadon says as though explaining something dead simple to a stubborn child.  “A new arrangement’s been made.”

“Nevertheless,” Castiel says.

All the softness disappears from Abbadon’s body language.  “That Omega is mine,” she snarls.  “Get out of the way.”

Benny comes up beside Abbadon.  “I do believe the lady's said no.”

Snarling, Abbadon throws herself in your direction.  Castiel takes the hit, immovable as granite.  Benny grabs her by the arms and bodily drags her to the couch across the room.  “Stop it with those heels,” he grumbles as Abbadon’s spiked heel rips his pant leg.  He puts her down and keeps her there as she tries another lunge.  “Uht-uh lady, we’re all gonna sit quiet and behave ourselves.  Understand me?”

“Are you all right?” Castiel asks you.

“Yeah.”  You look up at him as your brain starts trying to make the last ten minutes make sense.  “What are you doing here?  Either of you?”

“I have a monitoring program on the accounting software that tracks the Family’s cash accounts.  About an hour ago three large sums were wired out.  The destination accounts were Rosen Entertainments, Rebecca Rosen’s personal deposit account, and another deposit account under the name Abbadon Diablo.  I found the incident alarming enough to contact Balthazar, and he asked that I come to make sure you were all right.”

“I got a call from Dean this morning askin me to catch a plane to Detroit,” Benny takes his turn.  “Said he was havin trouble shaking a tail.”

“Why didn’t he just fly in himself?” Castiel asks.

“The Chief’s scared of planes.  Our last tour, the corpsman had to give him a shot to keep him from throwin a hissyfit all the way to Kabul.”  Benny shakes his head.  “Not afraid of heights but terrified of flying.  Who can figure?”

“You guys were in the service together?” you ask.

“Sure were cher.  First time I met him was when he dug me out from under a truck.”  He slaps one leg.  “Put a tourniquet on it.  Wasn’t for him, I’d’ve bled out or be walkin with a peg leg right now.”

You ask the small talk questions.  Benny answers-- he’s from Metarie, Louisiana, served five years before getting discharged for failing a drug screen, works as a bouncer in a bar in Baton Rouge owned by his wife Andrea.

“And you just hopped on a plane?” you ask.

“Sure did.”

“To come babysit a stranger a thousand miles away.”

“Course,” he shrugs, like it’s something people just do.

“Why?  You don’t know me, you don’t know what kind of a shitstorm you’re walking into here.”

Benny looks at you.  His eyes are blue too, paler than Castiel’s, clear and striking.  “I owe Dean one.  A big one.”

Something else occurs to you.  “How did you guys even get in?  Harold should’ve stopped you at the elevator.”

“Balthazar gave me a spare access card just before he left for Buenos Ares,” Castiel explains.

“I ran into bumblebee here trying to talk the doorman into buzzin him up,” Benny says.  “He’ll be all right but he’s gon’ have a sore jaw when he wakes up.”

---

The waves of fury Abbadon’s putting out strangles any further conversation.  You keep your seat on the coffee table, curling up more and more as the heat really starts sinking in.  Abbadon watches you like you’re the most fascinating thing ever, and every minute goes by her smile gets a little wider.  Her rutting scent is calling to you, and to your shame your body is calling back.

“You poor thing,” she says when you hiss through a cramp.

“Quiet,” Benny rumbles.  “Like an itty-bitty church mouse.”

Even Castiel can feel it.  Red slowly creeps up from under his collar and he starts to shift a little in his seat.  You hope that he and Hannah are still an item.  He needs someone to be nice to him, you think.  It’s not his fault he’s better with bees and butterflies than people.

Finally, finally, the elevator buzzer goes off and you bolt across the room.  Dean opens his arms just in time to catch you and pull you into a tight hug.  You take a deep breath from his neck.  Alpha’s scent, strong and sweet, blowing Abbadon out of your head like a wind blowing away smoke.  Every cell in your body trembles.  Slick starts to seep between your legs.

“Babygirl,” he breathes between soft kisses.  “What happened?  Are you okay?”

“I am now,” you say.

“Hola, Chief,” Benny says, shaking Dean’s hand and smiling.  “Commet ce vas?”

“Thanks a bunch Benny, I just spent ten minutes talking Harold out of calling the cops.”

“Is he okay?” you ask.

“Yeah, nothing hurt but his pride.  What happened?”  Dean takes a sniff at the air and freezes.  His eyes go dark and his upper lip lifts in a snarl.

“Well, if it isn’t the white trash Adonis,” Abbadon sneers.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean asks.  Gently, he pushes you behind him.

“Cleaning up your fuck-up, Winchester,” she says.  "And earning myself a big fat bonus in the process."

"Good evening," Castiel greets Dean, introducing himself and telling him what he'd told you about the money.  "I believe Zachariah specifically requested a female Alpha because he reasoned she would not admit a man."

"Correctly," you mumble.  "God I'm an idiot."

"Not your fault," Dean says, pulling you close to kiss your forehead.

As he pulls back you notice his cheekbone is swollen and there's a scrape going up into his hairline.  You touch it gently.  "What happened?  Why didn't you call me?  Why didn't you answer your phone?"

"Ketch," Dean says.  "Did you know he used to work for the SAS?  He got the drop on me just outside Kankakee.  Bastard broke my phone."

"Jesus Christ-- are you all right?" you ask, patting Dean over anxiously, looking for more injuries.

He smiles.  "It's just bruises, babygirl.  I'm fine."

"What'd you do with him?" Benny asks.

"Left him tied up in a Porta-Potty with the door bolted shut.  The construction crew'll find him tomorrow morning."  You bark out a laugh.  You've met Mr. Ketch once, and that was one time too many.

Dean holds a hand in front of Abbadon.  "Phone," he orders, snapping his fingers.  When she doesn't move, Benny rolls his eyes and digs out her pockets.

"Are you there yet?  The feeds are still dark," a woman's voice answers.

"Hi Becky," Dean says.  "Feel like explaining why you sent fucking Abbadon to service a virgin Omega who'd already red-sheeted us?"

"Dean!  Hi!" Rebecca Rosen, the proprietor and manager of Rosen Entertainments chirps.  "Now you gotta know I can't disclose the terms of a contact to third parties--"

"I'm not a third party!" you snap.  Now that Dean's here and it's really sinking in what almost happened, what might have happened if Castiel and Benny hadn't shown up, you're pissed.  "I put it in fucking writing I didn't want any of your Alphas!"

"Y-you did?" Ms. Rosen stutters.  "Oh my God-- I am so sorry, our e-mail servers are being exchanged, I never got--"

"Red sheets go to your phone.  Which is working," Dean says.  "You wanna try again?  Boss?"  When Rosen doesn't answer, Dean growls, "Answer me, or the next call I make is to Detective Mills in Lansing."

"You wouldn't," Ms. Rosen says.

"Wanna bet?  How much is Adler paying you?"

Castiel reads off some figures.  Some astronomical figures.  Figures far above and beyond anything you could imagine anyone spending on one thing, and for someone used to hanging around your idle rich cousins that’s saying something.  "Le je vous Salue Marie," Benny whispers.

"What did he want you to do to me?" you ask Abbadon, clenching your hands together to hide the shaking.

"Oh, stop acting like a frigid little prude," Abbadon sneers.  "All I was hired to do was help you through your heat.  Knot you like you're supposed to be knotted."

"He said maybe the problem was you liked girls but were too shy to tell him so," Ms. Rosen says.

"He told you to take her to the cottage, didn't he?" Dean says.  A wave of scent pushes out of him and you curl in on yourself.  Alpha is angry, Alpha is in a rage.  The pointed tips of claws sprout from the tiny ridges under his nail beds, and you can see his canid teeth have dropped and twisted into full fangs.  The skin over the pheromone glands in your neck twitch.  That's where Alpha will put his mark and claim you, and the thought makes slick pulse out of you.

"Mr. Winchester," Castiel says, putting a hand on his arm.  His own Alpha scent of honey and wildflowers has thickened, but bears none of that sense of threat.

"Don't get in my way Cas.  There's not a jury in the world that would convict me if I tore this bitch's fucking head off right now."

"That might be true Chief but is that really what the situation calls for right now?" Benny asks.  "The bitch ain't really the core problem here if I'm reading things right."

"No," Castiel agrees.  "Ms. Rosen, by accepting Zachariah's money you've made yourself and your business an accessory before the fact to an attempted rape.  I've examined the," you can hear him put it in quotation marks, "'red sheet' and found it in order.  A forensic examination of your phone will prove it was received and all instructions were followed."

"The red sheet only voided the contract between us and Mr. Adler that named Dean as the service provider--"

"You're not that stupid Becky," Dean cuts her off.  "Zachariah hired you to provide a rutting knothead, and paid extra to take her to a place where he could film it happening."

"What?!?" you cry.

"The cottage is a house Becky owns just outside Rockford.  It's wired for video and sound.  We take clients there that want to star in their very own pornos," Dean explains.

You grope out with one hand.  Benny, bless his silly golfer's cap, grabs the nearest wastepaper basket and holds it under you as you vomit.

"An associate of mine will be contacting you shortly.  I strongly suggest you call your lawyer and go on record that he will have your full cooperation," Castiel says, and if he wasn't acting the dominant Alpha before he is now.  "If you choose not to," his raspy voice deepens and he seems to grow a foot in front of you, "I swear by the Lord God I will break you."

Dean knows a dramatic cue when he hears it and disconnects.

“There.  That should buy us some time,” Castiel says.

“What d’you mean, jellybean?” Benny asks.

“He was bluffing,” you explain, wiping your mouth and grimacing at the aftertaste of bile.  “He’s an accountant, not a lawyer.  He doesn’t have associates.”

“Not exactly,” Castiel admits.  “Balthazar’s flight is scheduled to land at Ford International in twenty minutes.  I’m sure one of his associates can secure Ms. Rosen’s cooperation.”

Dean stares at Castiel for a long moment.  "You're all right, Cas," he says.

“Splendid,” Abbadon says.  She stands and plucks her phone out of Dean’s hand.  “As my contract has been cancelled I believe I’ll--”

“Aht-uh, I don’t think so,” Dean says, shoving her back down on the couch.  “You’re not stupid Abbs, you know Becky’s gonna throw you off the cliff to save her own ass the second the cops start talking deal.  I’d take some time and think seriously about your options.”

“This’s nice place to get some thinkin’ done,” Benny points out.  “Quiet.  There food in the kitchen cher?”  You nod.  Benny takes off his coat, and you gasp when you see a gun tucked into a shoulder holster.  He follows your eyeline and smiles.  “Your man’s prob’ly packin too.  I bet my boots that’s what he was doin in Kansas.”

“One of the things,” Dean says.  He reaches around his back and pulls out a chromed pistol.

“You brought a gun here?” you hiss.

“Let’s hope nobody’s stupid enough to make me use it,” Dean says, putting it back where he got it.

A wave of heat rolls through you, bringing hot blood under your skin and a fine film of fever sweat.  Your pussy trembles, clenches, throbs.  “Alpha,” you whine under your breath.

“Hey.”  Dean pulls you close and cuddles you against his chest.  “Just breathe, babygirl.”

“I think we can handle things here Chief,” Benny says.  “You need to get your girl somewhere safe.”

“Benny is right,” Castiel says.  His face is red but, God bless him, he’s composed otherwise.  “I’m not confident Zachariah will react rationally when he learns his scheme failed.”

“Yeah me neither.  Can you walk?” Dean asks you.  “I need you to go pack.  Just the essentials-- your toothbrush and enough clothes for a few days.  Make it quick.”

You nod and head for your room.  Picking out some jeans and T-shirts takes maybe five minutes.  Talking yourself out of taking every piece of frilly underwear you own is harder.  Packing up the work you need to get done before you go back to class-- the thought is almost surreal after everything that’s happened, what’s still happening.  Is normal even a thing any more?

You emerge from your room with a backpack, a stuffed duffel bag, and a hardshell suitcase on wheels.

“That’ll work,” Dean’s saying to Benny.  “Andrea’s threatening to carve my knot off again isn’t she?”

“Just cuz she loves you don’t mean she don’t want to kick your ass Dean,” Benny says.

“Tell her I love her too.”  Dean looks you over and takes your duffel from you.  He smiles into your frightened face.  “It’s okay, babygirl.  I’m just taking you somewhere safe.  I know a place.”

“Where?” Castiel asks.

Dean gives him a look.  “You don’t need to know.”

Castiel’s stance softens.  “You’re right.  Of course.”

“Your job,” Dean says, “is to do whatever you gotta do to nail her uncle.  My job is to keep my Omega safe.”

“What’s my job?” you ask.

Abbadon laughs.  “Get on your belly and take a big fat knot, Omega,” she says.  “Your body’s crying for it, I can tell.  You were born to be on your knees, sweet.”

“Shut your mouth,” Dean growls.

“Or what?” Abbadon taunts.  “She smells so delicious.  You can’t wait to get her alone and fuck her.  You never could own up to just being a shitty mutt sticking his knot--"

“That’s enough,” Benny cuts her off.  “Can I borrow your tie, Mr. Castiel?”

Castiel pulls off his tie and holds Abbadon by the arms as Benny gags her with it.

“Benny, I--” Dean starts.

“Go on now.  We can handle things here,” Benny says.  He smiles at you.  “Sure was a pleasure to meet you, miss.  Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing now.  Me’n the bumblebee got it covered.”

---

You sit in the shotgun seat of Dean’s Chevy, trembling as your fever intensifies.  You have no real idea where you are.  Absent a stop at a Thrifty Acres to get some groceries, Dean’s been driving on side roads and two-lane blacktop with flat-footed confidence, constantly checking his mirrors and sometimes telling you to duck down out of sight.  You’re trying to keep yourself still, not break his concentration.  It’s hard.  Slick is oozing from you in a steady trickle, so much you can feel it’s soaked through your jeans.  Dean’s reacting to it, you can tell.  He’s all but squirming in his seat.  His scent’s turning darker, more intense.  You keep thinking of how it felt, when Dean made you come just by touching you through your panties, when you were a good girl for him.  You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, making everything swollen and sensitive and ready for Alpha, for Dean--

Finally, after a long crawl down a rutted track through some second-growth tangles of tamarack plants and tree saplings, you spy the dark outline of a house.  Dean pulls the car next to it and kills the engine.  “Here we are,” he says into the silence.

“Where?” you ask.

“Friend of my Uncle Bobby owned this place,” he says.  “It’s got propane and a generator for the lights and a well and septic for water.  We can hole up here until everything blows over.”  He reaches past you and punches open the glove compartment.  “I’m gonna go in first and make sure it’s empty.  You know how to use a gun?”  At your headshake, he pulls out a revolver.  “Pull the hammer back,” he demonstrates, “and squeeze.  I’ll be right back.”

After five minutes that feel like fifty fucking years, you hear a clack and a chug as a machine starts up.  A dim yellow light flicks on inside the cabin.  Dean comes back out, tucking his gun into the small of his back.  “We’re clear,” he confirms and you sigh in relief, putting down the revolver.  “Help me with the bags.”

Inside, the cabin is a one-room shack with a tiny part sectioned off in what you assume is the bathroom.  The walls are knotty pine paneling and you can smell decades of old cigarette smoke.  A woodstove slouches in one corner and there’s a galley kitchen against one wall.  The cabin’s only furnishings are a bed, a saggy couch, and a little café table with a couple of chairs.  Dean plugs something in and the refrigerator starts to hum.  “Put the groceries away.  I’ll get the rest of our things.”

A cramp seizes you as you finish putting the food away and you grind your teeth, bracing yourself on the counter.  By now, at home, you’d be in bed full of muscle relaxants and painkillers, riding your heat out like a little boat in a choppy sea.  “Keep it together bitch,” you mutter to yourself, straightening.  Doing your absolute best to ignore the disgusting sensation of slick-saturated fabric between your legs.

Dean comes in and slings his duffel bag onto the couch.  "The only other people who know about this place," he says, brushing by you without looking at you, turning on the kitchen faucet and nodding at the clear stream of water that results, "are my brother and Bobby.  We should be safe here for at least a few days."

"That's good," you say.  What's happening here?  Why isn't he touching you?  Your body is sobbing for him, you can feel it.  Another cramp twists your insides and you suck in a breath.  Oh, that's bad-- the room is filling with scent, yours and Dean's, mixing together into something that's squeezing your chest in a steel fist.

Dean turns around and braces himself against the kitchen counter.  His eyes dart to the corner, where the bed waits, neatly made with a gray blanket.  Your eyes dart below his belt and yes, even through his jeans you can see he's hard.  He sighs, "God, babygirl, I am so sorry."

"What?" you ask, totally dumbfounded.

"This wasn't what I had planned at all," he says.  "You deserve so much better than a dirty bachelor shack in the middle of nowhere for your first time--"

"Jesus Christ Dean, you think I give a shit about a little dust and mouse turds?" you cut him off.  "Just how fucking shallow do you think I am?"  You curl your arms around yourself, shaking. 

"I don't," Dean says.  "I don't think that at all.  God, you're gorgeous and you're smart and you smell so fucking sweet."  He gulps.  "I've never-- you won't believe me, but nobody's ever gotten under my skin like this before.  What the fuck are you even doing with a bum like me?"

"I thought," you gulp, "I thought you wanted to take care of me."

Dean's eyes darken and a fine tremor makes his body quiver.  Slowly, he pushes himself upright.  One step, two steps, and he's looming over you.  He reaches out and slides his hand up your jawline, turning your head up and your eyes to his.  This is happening, this is really happening, and you feel the knowledge like a punch straight between your legs.  A tiny sound peeps out of you.

That must've been Dean's cue.  His mouth slants over yours.  The relief that sweeps over you makes you melt against him, clinging to keep your balance.  Dean's hands are everywhere, strong and confident, pressing you against him.  You moan when you feel him, hard and seeking through both your jeans.

"Gonna take care of you," Dean growls against your mouth.  He touches your leg, feels the heavy cotton damp with your slick.  "Your pussy's hungry for me, isn't it babygirl?  I've been smelling it all fucking night.  Got me hard soon as I got out of that elevator."

"Really?" you pant.

Dean nods.  His hand curves around your shoulder and slides down.  Your entire body shakes as his hand fits itself to your breast, learning the weight and the curve.  His thumb finds your nipple and swishes back and forth over it, making it painfully hard inside your bra.  Your head drops back and he kisses down your neck.  More slick runs out of your pussy, hot and thick and slippery.

"Can I take this off?" Dean asks, pulling your shirt out from where it's tucked into your jeans.  He kisses across your collarbones as you moan out a yes, raising your arms as he pulls if off over your head.  Bare hands on your waist, feeling him skin-to-skin, your mind reels.

You're at the bed, Dean half-dragging you because your legs have quit working.  The two of you topple over in a great squeak of stiff bedsprings and a puff of dust.  You giggle at Dean's cuss, taking the opportunity to put some kisses of your own under his jaw, down his neck.  His heart's hammering fast as yours, and the texture of his skin against your lips is a mystery you could spend the rest of your life exploring.

Groaning as you press down against him-- against his cock, you correct yourself, his Alpha cock, Dean sits up and shrugs out of his jacket and plaid button-down, shoving them to land on the floor somewhere.  "Take my clothes off," he tells you as he pulls you to straddle his lap.  You pull his T-shirt up and off.  You undo his belt and the top button of his jeans.  Dean lets out a sigh of relief as his trapped erection springs free, stretching out his underwear.  Your bra clasp pops open with a twist of his fingers and you sling it off as your tits swing free.  "Beautiful," he moans, tipping you back and covering your chest with kisses.

"Dean," you whine as he pulls a nipple into his mouth and sucks.  The sensation goes straight to your pussy, which for God's sake is starting to burn.

"Told you," he says, his mouth full of your nipple and his fingers gently pulling the other one, "I needed time to take care of you.  Nice," he says, suckling you long and strong and making you cry out, "and slow.  Make you howl for me, babygirl.  Unzip your pants for me."

You do as you're told like a good girl, and Dean rewards you by shoving his hand down your panties.  He groans when he finds a puddle of slick.  Your cunt clenches, more slick runs over his fingers.  It was good when it was just pressure through your panties; skin to flesh, a rough palm rubbing over your clit and fingers gently threading through your soft inner lips, and you're almost weeping with need.

"Feel that?" Dean asks.  "Your pussy's trying to lock around my hand, babygirl.  You're so slick, I'm gonna just slide right in, right all the way in.  Get in you so fucking deep, you'll feel me for days."

"Please Alpha," you beg, arching to rub yourself over his hand.

"Uht-uh," he grunts.  The fingers that've been stroking you right where you open slip through and slide inside, finding tight and soft.  They move, wiggling deeper, touching secret places you've never even touched yourself.  "Gonna feel so good to make you come on my cock," he says, "feel your pussy lock my knot up nice and tight."  His other hand takes yours and puts it over his tented underwear.  Your palm curves around him and Dean moans.  "That's it, babygirl.  Feel how fucking hard I am?"

"Yes Alpha."  Your hand reaches further into his open jeans and you cup his knot in your hand, feel it pulsing and swelling a little with each throb.

Gently, you squeeze and Dean groans your name.  "Just like that babygirl.  Not too hard-- wait, stop a second."

"No, please, I need you, I need your knot--"

Dean pulls your hand out of his pants and his hand out from between your legs.  His fingers are running with your slick.  Like he's got a palmful of syrup, Dean licks his hand clean.  He presses a finger to your lips and you take a timid lick.  It's . . .  weird, salty and weird.  Not bad, but weird.

"So good.  Later," Dean says, kissing more of your taste into your mouth, "I'm gonna put you up on that table, and spread you out, and eat you out until you scream.  I promise.  Lay back."

You arch to lay back down Dean's legs.  A laugh coughs out of you as he fusses with your jeans, helping you straighten and raise your legs high so he can pull them off.  Your panties go with them, leaving you bare to Alpha's eyes.  Under his burning gaze, you suddenly want to curl up and hide.  You're barely rounded anywhere, skinny rather than slender, your bush spraying everywhere because it's never occurred to you that it might need trimming, much less shaving.  Not like the lushly curved, voluptuous, beautiful Omegas he's probably popped his knot into on a regular basis.

"Hey hey hey," Dean says as you cover your tits with one arm and your pussy with the other hand.  "Don't do that."

"I just--" you snap your hand back over yourself as Dean tries to pull it away from your bush, "look at me."

"I am," Dean says.  "Be a good girl for me.  Let me see you.  Come on.  Babygirl," he says, settling a hand low on your belly, rubbing down and making you shudder as you feel it deep inside your core, right at the source of all the burning, "you will never have to worry about disappointing me.  Not ever.  You hear me?"  He leans over you, filling your vision with his face, with his eyes.

You seize his face and pull him down for a kiss.    How easy it is, to wrap your legs around him.  Dean unconsciously grinds against you.  Frustrated little grunts pop from him as his clothes keep him from sinking into you.  The glands in your neck start to ache, as your body puts out more and more scent.  Alpha is here, right here, he’s rutting, he’s in rut, you need him, now, oh God now, before your body catches fire and burns away.

Grunting, growling, Dean pins your torso flat to the creaky mattress.  “Let me go Omega, just for a second.  Gotta get my pants off.  Hold still, just for a second.”

You let your legs relax.  Dean pushes himself up off you and reaches down under his waistband to free his trapped cock.  Your first thought, as you get your first look at a cock, an Alpha cock, standing up from Dean’s groin like an iron bar and equipped with a pulsing mass of knot at the base, is disbelief.  Dean’s fingers are long and thick and felt huge inside you.  His cock is . . . to your inexperienced eyes it looks like a fucking baseball bat.

Dean busts out with a laugh and you flush, mortified.  “I said that out loud didn’t I?”

“Just call me Miggy Cabrerra,” Dean teases, shoving his jeans down and peeling them off.  You shift to roll over and Present properly.  Dean stops you with a hand on your hip.  “No babygirl.  I need to watch your face.”  You curl yourself upwards a bit to see what he’s doing-- putting his hand under your pussy and cupping his palm.  The answer comes when he takes the slick that’s gathered and spreads it down his cock.  The sight makes your cunt throb so hard it hurts.  You drag a hand through your pussy and Dean jumps as you smear your slick down his shaft.  His cock is a length of warm stone in your hand, the skin soft and fine, the softest skin you’ve ever touched.  Dean shudders as you gather more slick and use both hands on him.  “Good girl,” he says through a strangled throat, “getting me so fucking hard for you.  Lay back.”  He puts his hands on your thighs and pushes them as far apart as they’ll go.  “God, perfect, spread yourself out nice and wide for me.  Sit up a little.”  A pillow slides under your back.  “Now what did I say about reading minds, babygirl?”

It takes you a second.  “That you can’t.”

“Yahtzee.  If I do something that hurts or that you don’t like, you have to tell me.  I promise, I will not be mad no matter how far gone we are.  Tell me to stop and I will.  Understand me?”

“Yes Alpha,” you say.

“Good girl.  Being such a good girl for me,” Dean says, the words making you shudder.  He smiles and tips your face up to look him on the eye.  “You like being my good girl don’t you?”

You bite your lip and nod.

“Hold still.  Keep being good for me, hold still.”  You gasp as his fat, wet cockhead slides across your pounding clit.  It slips down, a blunt mass seeking where your body unfolds.  Dean says your name and points to his eyes.  “Watch me.  Right here.”

You fight to keep your head up and your eyes open, as Dean’s cock lodges between the innermost of your pussy lips.  Between, and through.  You pull a breath in through lungs that won’t inflate.  He’s . . . big, thick, massive, heavy-- your brain runs out of adjectives.  Your Omega instincts howl in completion.

Dean moans as you clamp down on him.  “Oh my God.  So fucking tight.”  He holds himself still, puts a hand on your belly to hold you still.  “You gotta relax, babygirl, relax, let me in, can you do that for me?  Come on, you can do it.  Let me make you feel good--” and your pussy unclenches and Dean slides straight in, all the way to the knot.

Oh.

So this is what all the fuss is about, is your first thought.  Alpha’s cock filling you to the limit and his knot pressing against where your pussy will lock him in place.  It . . . you ache, down there, where the nerves are going crazy processing new sensory input.  Dean’s weight lays down against your belly.  For a moment you can’t breathe and you squirm under him in a panic.  Then he shifts and puts his forearms on either side of you, bracing himself and taking his weight off you.  Never breaking eye contact, Dean’s hips roll.  Sliding, friction, deep inside where you’re most tender--

Dean sighs, “Squeezing me so tight, Omega.  Tightest little pussy.  How does it feel, feeling me deep like this?”

“Full,” is the only word that comes to mind.  “Feel so full.”

Dean smiles, brilliant but bracketed with tension.  You breathe in his scent and it’s heavy and dark.  You slide your knees up and your legs fall open wider.  Dean shifts back, slipping away and he thrusts, filling you back up full and no, this is what all the fuss is about, this, this.

--mate knot breed mate knot breed mate mate MATE--

Groaning, Dean keeps moving inside you.  Hot and alive.  You’ve used knotting toys before, all Omegas do.  Dean feels nothing like that.  “C-c-can I go a little faster?  Babygirl you feel so fucking good on my cock.”

You nod, gulping.  Your eyes drift closed, going inside yourself, concentrating on the ache and the bliss deep within.

"Eyes open babygirl."

Your eyes fly open and you moan.  Balancing himself on one arm, Dean brings his free hand to your face.  "Suck on my fingers.  Get 'em nice and wet for me.  Good girl," he says as you lick down each of his first two fingers, take them both in your mouth and suck them.  "You're gonna come on my cock, babygirl," he tells you.  "Squeeze my knot so fucking tight.  Lock me right the fuck up."

You cry out as his wet fingers find your clit, arching underneath him.  Your bodies find a beat and you wind your arms and legs around Dean, kissing his lips, his face, his throat.  You suck a bruise at a warm spot in his throat and Dean cries out your name.  Your fangs drop and you only realize at the last second what you're about to do and duck your head, taking your mouth away from where Dean's mating gland throbs.

Dean's movements are getting shorter, the thrusting harder.  You meet him as best you can, pulling him to you, wanting him to melt into your skin, become part of you.  You cry his name as the pleasure just rises, and rises, and critical mass oh God--

You go rigid as you come, harder than you ever have in your life, your pussy squeezing around Dean and the muscles along the lips spasming.  Dean cries out as his knot pops free of them, once, twice.  His hips stutter and you feel him . . . inside you, painting your insides with his seed.  His knot swells and your pussy clamps down, locking him in place as he comes.  The Omega within you screams in completion.  Dean's cock shifts and his knot pulls as his orgasm wrings him dry, the sensation making you whimper through another mini-orgasm as your body squeezes to keep him in place.

You lose a few minutes.  When you come back to yourself, Dean's laying full on top of you.  His hips stutter and jerk every few seconds, his cock twitching as he leaves little dribbles of seed.  Weakly, he wraps an arm around you and rolls you both over, arranging you to lay draped overtop him.  He strokes down your back, cards his fingers through your hair, brushes away tears that've leaked from your eyes.  You don't remember starting to cry.  His chest heaves under your ear and his heart is beating like it's about to burst.

"Dean--"

"Shh," Dean says, and you shush up.  You kiss what skin you can reach, just to feel his skin against your face.  It's so nice, not like what you'd imagined.  Little aftershocks make your cunt flex around Dean, pulling little helpless noises out of him.  Content, that's what you are, the burning under your skin mellowed to a pleasant heat.  You want more.  Later.  Now is for laying in Alpha's arms.

---

continued in part b

[captain039]

White picket fence.

Wincest x reader

Sam alpha

Dean alpha/omega

Reader omega

Warnings: Incest, AOB, scenting, nesting, harassment, poly couple

NO HATE PLEASE, DONT LIKE IT DONT READ

Finding the bunker was the next best thing, a place to go back too, a bed of your own. Well this bed was a little dusty and old, not really comfortable either.

“Hey” you glanced to Dean who had knocked on your door.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“Wanna go shopping?” He grinned and you frowned suspiciously but nodded and followed him.

“Sammy!” He yelled finding him at the table reading.

“We’re heading out” he said and Sam frowned and you shrugged.

“Um, ok” Sam just nodded and you went to him. You leant down and Sam smiled a bit giving you a soft kiss.

“Be safe” he said and you nodded going to Dean who grinned.

“Bye” he said to Sam before leaving.

“Where are we going? Please tell me where not buying an arsenal” you groaned.

“Nope” he had this grin that wouldn’t leave, he was up to something.

“Dean” you huffed.

“Furniture shopping!” He said and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh come your beds crusty man” he icked and you made a ‘fair’ face.

“Besides the place could use some décor” he smiled.

“Whatever you say” you said.

Dean rented a trailer first before heading to whatever furniture store was close.

“How are we paying for this?” You whispered to him.

“Credit cards” he smirked perking up as he saw the bedding.

“Oh boy” you muttered.

“This one?” Dean laid down sighing contently as you laid by him.

“Oh yeah” you hummed closing your eyes.

“Do you two need assistance?” You jumped hearing the sales woman.

“Yes” Dean grinned and stood as did you.

“We would like three of these in a queen” he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Alright then, did you want to keep browsing? Bed frames or anything?” She asked smiling.

“Also yes” Dean nodded already having his eyes on something.

“And he’s gone” you said.

“New house?” The sales woman asked.

“Yeah” you chuckled, if that’s what you want to call a secret underground bunker.

“He seems overly happy doing this” she commented.

“Yeah I don’t know” you shrugged. He waved you over and you excused yourself.

“So there’s black, white and oak in this, it’s simple, cheap and nice” he said.

“One of each colour?” You asked.

“I’ll have white, Sammy will have black and you can have oak” you said.

“Read my mind” he said and you smiled. You wandered off while Dean talked to the sales woman. You looked at appliances, a new microwave wouldn’t hurt.

“New house?” You frowned at the words. You glanced to the alpha who gave a smile.

“Oh yeah” you nodded awkwardly going back to checking prices.

“Yeah me too, thought it was time to set up you know?” He stepped closer, a little too close.

“Yeah it’s nice” you shrugged stepping away.

“Are you in your own?” He asked and before you were about to back away and speak you ran into someone. You gulped a bit knowing Deans figure and scent.

“No she’s not” Dean said, scent defensive and sour. The other alpha held his hands up and left and you sighed sagging a bit against him.

“Ok?” He asked and you nodded not used to people talking to you like that. He rubbed your arms in comfort before you turned around, taking a small step back.

“Is it all paid for?” You asked and he nodded smile returning. You helped him the best you could with lifting everything into the trailer.

“Is it gonna fit through the door?” You called from the other side of the trailer.

“Yeah it’ll fit” Dean said throwing you some rope.

After tying it down you headed back to the bunker. Dean parked by the entrance and you got out.

“I’ll get Sam” you said and Dean nodded getting out. You opened the doors and walked down to get Sam who was still reading.

“Hey” you called.

“Hey, got everything?” He asked and you nodded.

“Gonna need your help and he frowned but nodded following you.

“What’s this?” He asked you.

“Furniture!” Dean said happily.

“Huh?” Sam said confused and Dean rolled his eyes.

“For our rooms dumbass” Dean huffed.

“No I get that I just” you hit his stomach lightly and he stopped.

“Just help me carry it” Dean said.

After everything was inside you all collapsed on the couch.

“I don’t wanna do that again” Dean commented.

“I second that” you said hearing Sam chuckled.

“Oh we got you black hope that’s ok” Dean said to Sam.

“Sure” Sam nodded.

“I don’t wanna ruin your nesting, I just thought we’d be in one room is all” Sam said and you smiled to yourself.

“We can share beds, that’s why I got the big beds” Dean grinned.

“Besides princess here likes her own room” he pointed to you.

“Only cause I move a-lot” you huffed.

“And we’ve said we don’t mind” Dean said Sam agreeing.

“Also Sam snores, I need some sleep sometimes” Dean teased and Sam hit him making him chuckle.

“Sometimes we argue” Dean said quietly and you nodded.

“But, I think it’s good to have our own rooms, still enough room for fun times” Dean winked making you roll your eyes.

“Do you ever not think with your dick?” You asked.

“Only when I’m not around you” he grinned and you fake gagged.

“Oh come on princess” he smirked.

“You love it” he added.

“Do I?” You dragged out.

“My mark says so” he pointed to your neck, a cocky look on his face.

“His mark says so too” he added and you flushed. You lifted your hands to cover the marks on your neck, one either side, right for Dean and left for Sam. Sam had the same for Dean and you on the left. Dean had you on the right and Sam on the left. People often gave weird looks at the two bite marks either side of your necks, but never said anything, to scared too. Dean was very protective and proud of his marks and would bite someone’s head off if they bagged them.

Setting up your rooms was slow, you laid the new mattresses out on the floor near the lounge next to each other like one big bed. Dean often ended up on either Sam’s or yours bed. It was nice to do these things though, putting together the furniture with beers and laughs when Dean didn’t understand the instructions. Day by day the rooms slowly looked like normal people rooms. It was strange being able to call this your room. Dean loved it, he loved his bed and the idea of his own room, never actually had one before. Sam was a little reluctant to stay in his room, he preferred to sleep with either you or Dean his alpha ness kicking in. All three of you was usually a tight fit but with the bigger beds it was better, but not really. You slept well when you were with either one of them, but you moved a lot, you usually tossed and turned, needed a soft blanket and about a million pillows before you’d fall asleep. Despite them both saying the didn’t care you sometimes needed your own bed and space. First few nights was weird, it was nice but weird having your own room. Sam didn’t sleep in his room, no the alpha was determined to have his scent on yours and Deans bed before he was satisfied and finally tried his room. Course when he did you’d woken up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and walked to Sam’s room wrapped in a blanket. He had smiled and lifted his quilt so you could come under. He wasn’t asleep in the first place but he relaxed when he tugged you to him. By three a clock you think Dean rolled in. He was groggy, grumpy for whatever reason he mumbled. He climbed into Sam’s bed and cuddled up to you grumbling something before he fell asleep again. When morning came you smiled tucking yourself more against Sam in content. Dean mumbled in his sleep, clutching you tighter which made you smile again. Sam had chuckled quietly at Deans noise and pressed a kiss to your head whispering a soft good morning. You hummed lifting your head to look at him. His hair was out of whack and you chuckled only to hear Dean grunt in annoyance.

“Can’t we sleep in one time” he said and you laughed quietly with Sam.

“Our body’s have clocks Dean” Sam said.

“Screw my clock” he said as you rolled over to face him. He smiled then, opening his eyes.

“Morning” he grinned and you huffed before kissing him.

“Mm definitely good morning” he added and Sam laughed.

“Who wants pancakes?” He grinned and you nodded laughing. This was your white picket fence.

[stusbunker]

Tattered: The Things We’ve Been Promised and Fought for

A SPN ABO Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Dean, Cas/Meg

Word Count: ~5600

Warnings, etc: Rushed through rut sex, Dean disappearing to go after the Leviathans, building a bigger pack, the babies arrive (hospitals, blood, c-section, nursing), and a jump forward

Series Masterlist

Special shout out to @lastactiontricia​​ for putting up this series the entire time.

SAM

Cas was actually right. She’s fine. The babies are fine. I don’t know if I’d call it a miracle, but it’s a win and we’ll take it. The doctors asked her if she’d be interested in being included in a medical paper. She told them she’d think about it, being warned by an angel about our claim imbalance is a bit harder to reproduce in further studies.

And the last thing we really want is more questions.

She smells like sunbaked wheat fields and some kind of pastry, warm and comforting as she nuzzles me awake. Dean’s on his belly, head shoved between his pillows snoring gently. He’s dreaming vaguely, so I know we’ve got time to ourselves. I reach down and palm her ass, scooping her onto my lap as I tug the sheer nightgown up by my fingers.

She’s bare against my belly as she starts to kiss me, slow and teasing. I eat it up.

I hold her jaw in the palm of my hand slowly lap into her mouth, tasting and tempting as she gets wetter against me. She’s so solid now, the pups’re over a pound each and getting bigger every appointment. I want to keep her close, make sure she’s this healthy and safe always. Fill her up over and over so no one questions that she is spoken for, claimed by and possessing both our hearts. I need to be inside her, ten minutes ago.

She groans and then chuckles knowingly. “Your rut is coming up, I can smell it, it’s almost smokey on your skin.”

“What are we gonna do?” I ask, worry sinking in my gut.

“What we always do, fuck like crazy, hydrate. Rinse and repeat.”

“But what about the pups?”

She smirks down at me like I’m an idiot. “Sam, alphas have been fucking their pregnant omegas since the begining of time. Rut sex isn’t a threat, unless you tie me down and leave me somewhere—”

“I would nev-”

She brushes her thumb over my lips. “I know, stud, I know. I’m just saying. We’ll get through it. Dean might be pissy, but he gets his turn soon enough.”

I nod against her hold on my chin and she rewards me with a firm kiss. I hug her close and breathe in the calm she radiates, nosing against her hair. I won’t hurt her. I can’t.

She reaches between our bodies and starts stroking me back to life. I groan, watching as she rubs against my side, riling herself up just as much. I spin us on to our sides and she rolls to slot her ass against me, keeping it quiet for Dean, who’s still asleep behind me.

      "Easy," I murmur and kiss the back of her neck. I sink inside her slowly, inch by inch. She's even tighter at this angle and I close my eyes and breathe. I need to make this last for her.

       She gasps and starts rocking against me, so I pull her tighter to my chest. The smell of her slick fills the room and I love her so much I don't know what to do with it all. I cup her tit and marvel at how heavy they've gotten, nuzzling against my claim on her neck.

     I push into her in shallow rolls. My knot is hot against her ass. But we're in no hurry. She keeps sighing and squeezing me. My name coming out in little slices of whisper.

  "It's okay, baby."

   She breaks off on a moan and I brush my fingers over her nipple to give her more. But I keep it slow, building, trying not to rush anything. She pulls my fingers off her nipple and sucks them into her mouth, which is just —- then she drags them out and down to her clit. And as I slide them against that swollen nub, she clenches and my knot throbs. I gasp against her hair, trying to breathe through it all.

  Stopping myself from fucking her into the mattress, because I know she likes to be tossed around, even now.

    “Make me come first, Alpha—- Sam, please, I’m so close—,” she demands more than begs and I’m fucking trying, but she’s so wet I’m losing any purchase I have on her clit. I seal her lips around it, and rub, feeling it all hot and grinding against my hand. She’s digging her nails into the back of my neck, holding me as close as we can get from this angle and I’m going to explode.

   I teeth down the side of her face, landing on the hinge of her jaw and instead of biting her, I suck the smooth skin into my mouth. I can feel her blood drawing into the bruise, the delicious heat. Her claws are latched into my flesh and she keens, coming with a bucking thrash against my side— her legs kicking the last of the blankets off my side of the bed.

   I lick the sweat off her neck and pin her mound with the heel of my hand as I finish rutting my knot into her pulsing core. God— I swear I don’t know how I fit, but she fucking makes room for me or something because when I lock into place it’s like the first day out of the cage again. Her scent floods me with completion— contentment and I’m blinking away the tears. Mine. Ours. Us.

    I place my hand on her belly, dragging it up and down, feeling the shape of our pups inside and I pour even more pride and love into the air.

When we wake up, Dean’s gone. He left us a note saying: ‘Have a good rut. Fridge is stocked.’

*

It takes us two days to realize Cas and Bobby are gone too, between the house and salvage yard it’s a ghost town and we both know that can’t be good. But I can’t go and find anybody with a constant erection and reeking of rut. Besides, she’s got us nested down so good I’d probably lose my nuts if I even suggested we leave.

We’re both exhausted, but hydrated. And I’m eating her out like I’m going for the record. Not that Dean and I keep score, or anything. Or at least not that she knows about.

She’s riding my face and I can’t even see her tits anymore, her belly’s so big and that’s saying something because her tits have never been better. Fuck she’s so close I can taste the change in her slick— like it gets ultra concentrated just before —- I’m drowning in it, slurping it up and feeling her thighs trembling against me.

I’m hard as fucking steel and I don’t even want to touch my dick. I want to stay here on the verge of suffocation surrounded by my mate’s scent, her warmth. It makes me think of poems from school, of dying willing in your lover’s arms. Take my life, it is already yours.

And then she’s gone, slumped against the pillows and fanning herself as she catches her breath. I grin at her and wipe my mouth off with the back of my arm. She rolls her eyes at me and beckons me closer. I fall against her, hugging her middle as best I can while arching around the pups. My dick is persistent, but remains ignored along her leg.

She plays with my hair and I moan as she starts to scratch my scalp.

I can smell it on her before she voices it out loud, but still she says. “I’m worried about Dean, Sam.”

“I know, me too.”

"Do you think the Leviathans got them?”

“No. I don’t.”

“Just like that. No?” She looks at me like I’m lying to her, which I haven’t been able to manage since I got my soul back.

I shake my head, chewing on the explanation for my conviction. “It’s just, we’d feel it if something big happened, wouldn’t we? I think they’re hunting, but I don’t think it’s Def Com 6 here. Plus Cas and Bobby are with him— Dean’s gonna be fine.”

“You’re not just saying that because you want to keep fucking like rabbits, right?”

I sigh and try not to glare at her. But she smirks at me and I know she knows I was being sincere. “Very funny.”

“Dean’s not the only one that can give you shit, mister,” she teases, sinking further down my body to plop into my lap.

I nuzzle my nose against hers and she hums before she kisses me firmly on closed lips. “Even though you’re sure, I’d feel better if everyone was back home. So! Let’s see if we can get this rut over quickly then, just in case.”

I shake my head at her front of nonchalance, but agree wholeheartedly. “Can’t argue with that.”

*

They pull into the driveway two days later, dragging the impala behind them in Bobby’s truck. And they’re not alone. Cas and Meg ride in on the bed of the truck, presumably because they couldn’t be killed by something as inconsequential as an accident. And there’s Charlie, who I’ve only really talked to on the phone, looking a little dazed, but enthusiastically climbing out of the cab to shake hands with Y/N and me. Both Bobby and Dean look like they haven’t slept in days, and Dean’s got a shiner and his new coat is still covered in Leviathan juice.

“So?”

“We got him, Sammy. Dick’s dead. They’re all gone.”

“What, seriously? How?!”

“Bone of a nun, straight to the neck,” Dean gestures and grins, wagging his eyebrows. “I stuck it to ‘em.”

Our Omega, having enough of Dean’s antics, pulls him in for a proper scenting, opening his jacket and looking him over as he rests his hands on her hips, widening his stance so he is low enough to look her in the eye. “I’m fine, honey, really.”

“Tell me everything, from the beginning, like how you ran out on us without any way of knowing where you were!” She fumes, shaking him by the collar and pushes him away. Dean barely has to step back to withstand the weak force of her shove. He sighs and rolls his neck to look at me for back up. I hold up my hands and claim no loyalty in this spat.

He flips me off.

“Look, Sammy needed you here and, well, we got word it was time to move on the head honcho, so we took it.”

“What happened to Baby?”

Meg spoke up for the first time, husky voice deliberately unmussed. “That would be me. Drove her through their little glass welcome screen. Lucky me, I got to be a diversion.”

The story slowly unravels, Charlie sneaking Dean and Cas in. Cas identifying the real Dick Roman or the head chomper wearing his face. Saving the prophet Kevin, who they somehow lost when Crowley stepped in to help. And Cas flying Dean out of the blast zone just in time before the Leviathans got literally sucked back into Purgatory.

“So, uh, we’ve still got some clean up to do. Finding the kid. But I think —” Bobby explains before he gets cut off by Cas.

“We did good.”

“You’re damn right we did,” Dean agrees, holding hands with the mother of our children as we all drink and eat around the large banquet table Bobby built for us.

I can’t believe it’s over. “Well, Crowley can’t be too hard to get a lead on. We’ll get Kevin back to his mom.”

And just like that the mood turns sober. Before long, Bobby and Y/N take Charlie back to his house to help get a room ready for her to crash in until she gets her next move figured out. Which leaves Meg, Cas, Dean and I continuing to sip our drinks and shoot the shit.

“Look at you Winchesters, properly domesticated and everything,” Meg teased, eyeing the beams above her head and taking in the quality of Dean and Bobby’s craftsmanship.

“I know, right?” I agree, unable to stop the heat that burns across my cheeks.

“Awww, it’s okay, Sam. Maybe we all deserve a little bit of happiness this side of the apocalypse,” Meg says to Cas more than anyone. Cas, who had been eerily quiet, suddenly looks up and they lock eyes with something earnest and maybe a little dirty passing between them.

I clear my throat before Dean gets offended, because he’s already weirded out that we broke the warding for Meg. “You guys have any plans? Cas, any word from Daphne?”

“Uh, no, unfortunately when I didn’t return promptly from my first visit, she slowly realized that my abilities couldn’t be the claim to fame she was seeking. So, we parted ways and as I couldn’t be legally married as I don’t exist as a citizen, we didn’t really have to annul anything.”

“Heartbreaker,” Meg taunts.

“Wow, that’s good, Cas. I guess. One less loose end,” Dean agrees.

“I know you’ve been hanging out with Bobby a lot, thinking about sticking around? The more the merrier, right Dean?” I ask pointedly.

“I hadn’t really thought about it. I need to talk to Heaven, see if I can begin to atone. But it would be nice to have a homebase of sorts on Earth,” Castiel replies almost shyly.

“Well, you know where to find us, man. Because until those pups are out and until they’re walking, we’ve got one job to do,” Dean says and it all hits me. We don’t have to keep hunting. Sure, we can, but we don’t have to. We can have a life. Bobby will put us to work and we’ll do what we can for money, but once Kevin is safe. We’re just gonna be dads.

It’s unreal.

DEAN

It’s been two weeks since we took down Dick and yet Meg and Cas and hell, even Charlie have stuck around. Though Bobby won’t let Meg in his house, considering she tried to kill him at least once. But at this point, who hasn’t she tried to kill?

Charlie’s fascinated with all things hunting and the demon-angel team up sounds like something out of one of her video games so she can’t stop asking questions. Bobby’s actually having a lot of fun having her around, think she’s growing on the old bastard by sheer earnestness. And there’s our Omega, who is about fit to burst. She’s gone through the babies’ room everyday trying to figure out what we forgot, what we’re missing. 

Her waddling around like that makes me stupid and proud, but also just so damn happy that I start putting my foot in my mouth because it all seems too good to be true. Sam hates it when I piss her off, but it’s not like it’s intentional. I just can’t leave well enough alone.

The current argument is over names. Because everybody’s healthy in there, so we start getting serious about these pups we’re gonna meet any day now.

“Do not say John again— I will smack you,” Y/N growls.

“Dean, yeah, man, come on,” of course Sam agrees with her.

I know my dad’s name comes with a lot of baggage, but I still miss the son of a bitch anyway. Just not quite why she’s got such a vendetta against it, it’s a classic name. 

I grumble and concede this time. “Okay, fine, what do you like?”

“Jasper or maybe Jeremiah,” she replies, not bothering to look up from her little notebook that she has them all listed out on.

“Can we stay away from Pop culture names? Jasper is really popular lately,” Sam asks delicately, because yeah, we’re not doing the vampire name game, but still I hold my breath waiting for her to explode.

She sighs and crosses it off the list.

I see how tired she is and rub her knee under the table. “How about we go back to the girls’ names? Huh? Maybe if we get a small enough pool, we can narrow down the boy’s name better.”

We discuss names for another hour. Nobody agrees on any three names. But there’s some progress. Sort of.

Sam makes fajitas and I go and find Cas, even though he doesn't eat, gotta let everybody know it’s dinner time. He’s standing in one of the fields that I’m pretty sure don’t belong to Bobby, but I’m not about to go tattling either.

“Hey, man, soup’s on.”

Cas turns on me, all squinty eyed and concerned. “Hello, Dean.”

“Can you grab Meg and tell her to wash up for dinner? Sam says it will be ready in a minute here. I’ll go tell Charlie and Bobby.”

He walks with me towards the main house, but something must be up because he’s extra quiet. Not like listening to the universe or angel radio quiet, just thoughtful. He doesn’t go looking for Meg and soon we are stomping up the back steps in through Bobby’s kitchen.

“Dean? How did you know you were ready to take a mate?” Cas' question comes out of left field, but it also makes a lot of sense with the way he’s been acting.

“Uh— I don’t think I was ready, man. I mean, look at us, we kind of fucked things up before we really got it right. Why?”

“I also seemed to have—- fucked things up. When I lost my memories— with Daphne. But I realize now that I probably wouldn’t be able to make a human mate happy.” Cas looks up at me with a wavering dare in his eyes.

“Oh, shit!” I can’t believe he means—

“Don’t tell Sam, not yet. I just have begun thinking about pursuing her.”

“Yeah, man, I get it. But what about making amends with Heaven? A demon mate can’t be too far down on the No-No list.”

“Mating in general is considered beneath us, Dean.”

I can’t help the heat of shame that rises up, gaping at my best friend like a middle schooler during health class. But Cas has been in the trenches with us mud monkeys long enough, I guess I had forgotten just how holy he was. Maybe it’s also because we’re standing in Bobby’s too small kitchen and I can feel the old man’s eyes on me like an overzealous librarian.

“You got a reason for busting in here with your locker room talk or just felt the need to make everyone else uncomfortable?” Bobby glares at me then looks at Charlie who just waves innocently.

“Uh, food?” I swallow and try again. “Dinner’s ready.”

By a fucking miracle, we all make it to our place without more oversharing on anybody’s part.

*

Everything is so loud, but it’s like background loud, sitting next to a horror movie showing loud. Which is fitting, because there’s a lot of blood. And it’s getting harder to see, but I can’t do anything about it because my hands are full.

“Hey, kiddo. I’m your dad— one of ‘em anyway.” I swear she turns and looks at me, like she knows the sound of my voice. But her eyes are squeezed shut and she’s still screaming. And I’m crying worse than she is, because she’s here and she’s healthy and Y/N is a fucking miracle worker. She’s perfect. 

They’re all perfect.

Sam’s got the boy while the doctors clean up his little girl. She had a cord wrapped around her neck, but they could see everything once they got in there, so she’s fine. Sophia. That’s the name Sam and Y/N picked for her. Wisdom. It fits. 

I’m bouncing Joni, trying to get her to calm down as they put our Omega back together again. I walk over to where her face is behind the curtain, show her how amazing she is. How awesome our pup is. Pups are.

“Hey, Mama,” I can’t keep the tease out of my voice, I’m just so fucking happy. “Somebody wants to say hi.”

“Hi!” She sobs out, reaching as best she can with her arms pinned down to kiss a tiny forehead. 

The nurses clear some room on her chest, get her arms free so she can hold her, skin-to-skin they say. Once I know she’s got Joni good, I go and see how Sophie’s doing. Her cry is reedy, softer than her sister’s but still breaks my heart wide open. Once the nurse says I can, I scoop her up and hold her tight against my shoulder, whispering to her as we bounce-step over to her mom. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, we had to give Mama a minute. But now we’ve got you. Everybody’s safe.” I tell her as much as myself. I lock eyes with Sam as he is scenting Jimmy’s dark head. Leave it to our son to come out with a full head of hair. 

He’s not talking, but I can tell Sam’s just as much a mess as I am. I walk over and show off Sophie and he hands me our boy in exchange. He’s all wide eyed and looking around at everybody. Never seen a baby so alert. But I’m guessing that will change. These three are gonna put us all through the ringer— fill our lives with the new and the unknown.

It’s mesmerizing. And terrifying.

It’s a long time before they move us into a family room, they don’t even let us carry them down the hall. Instead we have three little plastic boxes on wheels that we push, along with a nurse, behind Y/N’s gurney. They help her figure out how to feed them. And I know Sam’s listening to all the technical crap about latching and pumping. 

But I am just amazed at her, exhausted as she is, cooing down at our pups as they nurse. Joni’s the smallest, but they all made it long enough to not have to worry about being hooked up to anything. Which I am gonna call Cas out on later, because the odds were near impossible on avoiding a NICU stay with triplets, but somehow we managed it.

Joni and Jimmy have been burped and are sleeping in their little blanket burritos tucked into a single bassinet. They’re used to close quarters and I can already tell they’re better together than apart. Sophie sleeps against Y/N chest, too tired from being born to really eat yet, but the nurse says it’s normal. Sam grabbed a shower and eventually Y/N will get a turn, but she’s got to worry about all the stitches and staples, so it might be just sponge baths for a few days.

I try not to get excited about helping her with those. 

We’ve got a lot more things to worry about now. And that kind of thinking got us here in the first place. I lose the last layer of scrubs and  leave the bathroom door open so I can hear them if they need me, if a nurse catches a peek, who cares at this point. Finally, we’re all clean and wedged on her bed, a baby a piece and everything quiets down. We shift and scent and just exist together for the first time, all six of us. God, it’s a whole pack now. We’re a real family.

Nothing will ever be better than this.

Five Years Later

Bobby

If I wasn’t already losing my hearing, the shrieking coming out of the backseat would have done it. I pull up to the drive in and wait for the carhop to come and take our orders. Don’t tell Rufus, but this minivan handles pretty damn well.

“Grandpa? Can I have poppers?” Joni asks like it’s normal for a little girl to be ordering deep fried peppers.

“No, doll, we’re having dinner at home. This is just a quick treat, but don’t go telling on me. Your dad will be all whiney about ruining your dinner and your daddy will be mad we didn't bring him home anything.”

They all giggle. 

The waitress taps on my window and I tell her, “four rootbeer floats please. Extra napkins if you got ‘em.”

“Sure thing, hun. That’ll be eighteen eighty.”

I give her a twenty and a couple of singles, waving away the offer of change.

“Thanks, it’ll be right up.”

I can feel them all fidgeting in their little booster seats, so I turn around and unbuckle myself to talk to them better. “You have fun today?”

Sophie’s staring out the window and hugging her little ratty stuffed rabbit. But she smiles and nods. Joni and Jimmy are both bellowing, trying to be louder than the other. “Yes! It was so fun!”

“Good.” I say, trying not to get too pleased with myself.

The mugs arrive and the pups are sticky from head to toe by the time we hand them back to the carhop, mostly empty. The extra napkins get wadded up and shoved into a grocery bag Y/N keeps on a little hook in here. Shoulda grabbed some baby wipes before we left. Friggin’ evidence is gonna get us all in trouble.

I check that their belts are tight and that Jimmy can reach both of his sisters’ hands if he needs to. Once we’re all set for the drive home, Sophie’s already nodding off. Then Jimmy conks out. Silly Miss Joni singsongs herself to sleep just as I’m pulling into the driveway. It’s nice out. We’ll leave them in there with the windows down until they wake up. With three of ‘em we’ve learned to pick our battles.

And the fresh air and afternoon sunshine will be a better way to wake up than yanking them out of their seats only to try and force them back to sleep after a fright and a carry upstairs.

I let myself in and hang up the van keys by the rest of them. Somebody’s in the library and somebody's snoring upstairs. I go warn Sam to finish his chapter outside on the porch and then make my way back to my place. I pass Charlie’s little trailer and don’t bother to knock, she’s hunting with Jody and the girls this week, but make sure she didn’t leave any lights on.

Cas and Meg’s place is aways in the back, more of a house than a barn, since we did it from the ground up. But it suits them, as much as they come and go. Then there’s Garth and Bess, never figured I’d have nearly a full set of monsters for neighbors, but life is nothing if not surprising. They’re expecting their first pup in a couple of months. I’ve been working on fixing up an old conversion van for them, but parts take forever. It’s funny, never saw that dipshit so normal as he is as a werewolf.

Kevin stops by from time to time, but that’s between research positions. He graduated from college and is working on a doctorate already. His mother calls me once a month whether I’ve heard from him or not. I don’t hate the check ins. 

The birthday party is tomorrow, giving everybody more time to make it in.

I can’t believe the kids are already five. Starting school next fall and everything. It makes me feel every inch a grandpa. Because I remember when Sam was that size and now he’s got his own to worry over. It’s been years, but it feels like yesterday. I check that the gifts I have tucked away for them are still safely hidden, because the rascals are curious little things. Had to move the Christmas presents to Jody’s after last year, got into them a whole week before I even had my tree up.

*

“Okay, time! Time. Sophie, it’s Jimmy’s turn,” Dean braves the terribly aimed swings of the old broom and catches it before she swipes into the snack table. Jimmy’s been waiting with his blindfold looped around his neck. The crepe paper donkey is swinging idly where Y/N holds the rope over the branch.

Everyone here knows this is going to take awhile. But without any other kids in line, we’re gonna let them have their fun.

“Good job Sophia!” Cas calls through his hands. She peeks out of her blindfold and groans at the fully intact pinata.

“Jimmy! Whack it good!” Joni crows and everyone cheers along with her. Sam collects Sophie’s blindfold and ties it around Joni’s neck as she waits for her turn. Sophie slumps over and leans against me like she’s run a marathon.

I don’t bother asking her what’s wrong, she’s a pouter, but she’s not showy about it. She thinks she didn’t do a good enough job, so I’m just gonna hold her while she watches her brother fall over himself missing the moving target too. Joni gets a good couple thwacks in, but the dumb donkey’s still holding all the candy when Dean decides it’s his turn.

“Now you watch, your daddy isn’t gonna be able to get it either.” And bless her, Y/N kept that pinata out of Dean’s reach the entire two minutes we gave him. Then it became a taunting exercise between the adults. After enough of them had laughed themselves stupid, I stood up, setting Sophie down gently. 

“Alright, idjits, it’s time for sudden death. No blindfolds, only spinning and let the birthday pups get their candy.” Being the pack elder has its perks and times like this is one of them.

Joni teeters over with laughter as she swings. She catches the rope around the broom handle and pulls the whole thing down with little resistance from Y/N’s grip. She beats the cardboard animal within an inch of recognition and finally a hole caves in and the other two pounce in for the candy as soon as the weapon is out of play.  Dean hands it over their heads to Sam. 

Jimmy keeps trying to stuff candy in his pockets, but they’re too full and he’s losing more than he’s saving, meanwhile the girls just use their shirts like aprons. We are all bent over in tears, but the kids have their haul and nobody is gonna forget this party. Between Jody’s pictures and Meg’s recording on her phone, we’ll be able to bring it up for blackmail in the future.

Dean grabs the last handful of candy out of the carcass before he tosses it on the woodpile for next burning day. He doesn’t share, figures.

“Alright, before you go on about singing and cake, I’m handing out my gifts first,” I announce. “Over here you rascals.”

I march across the yard and head to a little strip of grass along the tree line. The kids are racing after me, I can hear their mother yelling at them to be careful since they’re in their nice clothes for the party.

But it’s an outdoor party and she should have known better, if you ask me.

I stop beside a big lump of canvas and wait for their little legs to catch up. I look down at them and give them the rules. “You have to take turns. You cannot cut in front of each other. And you do not use these on one another either, ya hear me?”

“Yes, Grandpa.” Three little voices nod, half listening half wiggling with excitement.

“Okay.” I pull the cloth off the target and step back hiding the packages behind my back.

“Ooooooo!”

“A target?”

“Are we shooting it?”

“No, guns are for grown ups. But if you get good, maybe you can hit it with one of these.” I fan out the bundles in front of me, letting them each pick one. Sam’s close now, eyeing me and I know what he’s thinking. But it’s not about hunting, not that kind of hunting at least. He grabs up the wrapping paper as the kids shred it to pieces to keep it from blowing away and becoming litter.

“A bow and a quiver!” Jimmy exclaims.

“I’m gonna be the Green Arrow!” Joni declares.

“I’m Huntress,” Sophie decides.

“I’m gonna be Hawk-guy.” Jimmy finally adds after much thought.

Dean chuckles. But Charlie calls over, “It’s Hawkeye, buddy.”

“Right. Hawkeye. I didn’t know that one either,” Y/N adds, shrugging.

I get them for the next hour, showing them how to crook the bow, and notch the arrow. They listen better for me than anybody, but seeing them this hooked on my every word made my damn month. They’re naturals, even if they don’t have the arm strength yet. We let them shoot from ten feet. Then finally Garth and Charlie convince them it’s time for cake.

I let it go. Because I know I will have them crawling through my backdoor everyday until they’re pros. It’s a selfish gift, but it’s an even trade. Let their parents off the hook about preparing them for everything out there, while giving me an excuse to spend more time with them. When they’re old enough we’ll go after turkeys for Thanksgiving, not wendigos or vampires.

They’ll have the skills and none of the burden their folks had at their age. 

I nod at Y/N as she sets three mini cakes down on the table, letting them each blow out a matching number five. She’s a good mom and I can’t help but be a little proud about that fact. She’s not mine, but she always had a piece of my heart. Then there’s those two knuckleheads that somehow manage to keep her healthy, happy and safe. I couldn’t hope for any better for any of them. And I’m just grateful I’m still around to see it all happen.

Tell me what you think?

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[zepskies]

Poll: Fic to "Podcast Fic"

Thanks to the lovely admins over at @spnfanficpond and @talltalesandbedtimestories, one of my SPN stories will be made into a podfic! I'm very excited, but I also need your help. 💕

If you're interested, which story would you enjoy listening to in podfic form? (Links and summaries below the poll.)

I tried to include longer stories or chapters in the options, but if there's a different SPN story (or series chapter) of mine you would prefer, please list it in the comments below! 💜

Stories Mentioned:

(Links and summaries below the cut.)

Choosing Him You’re forced to make a decision between Sam and Dean. - [Sequel to “Dean gives you an impossible choice.” Contains both Sam and Dean endings.]

Smoke Eater (Part 1) Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real.

Midnight Espresso - (18+) You’ve never taken Dean’s flirting seriously…until he asks you for an impromptu Spanish lesson.

A Wish to Build a Dream On (18+) Dean has been harboring the archangel Michael in his mind for weeks now, putting a strain on your relationship. When Dean makes a wish that accidentally brings his father back from the dead, you get to meet the (in)famous John Winchester. But as always with magic, your boyfriend’s wish has unintended consequences.

Big & Tall - (18+) You steal Sam’s shirt. But that simple theft comes at a big price.

Make It Right (18+) He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die. [Omegaverse/ABO dynamics]

[welldonebeca]

The Family (1/2)

Summary: When Sam and Jess move back into your home, you can finally sate a craving you’d been hiding since you left her in Stanford to fuck her silly. Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!F!Reader, Alpha!Sam x Omega!F!Reader, Omega!Jessica x Omega!F!Reader, Alpha!Dean x Omega!Jess WC: 1.9k words Warnings: Pregnancy. Lactation kink. Oral sex. Smut. Overstimulation. Teasing. Degrading kink. Praising kink. Frottage. Knotting. Fluff.

If you like my work, consider buying me a coffee or subscribing to my Patreon. It’s just $2 a month and helps a lot while I go through these hard times.

Masterlist

Sam and Jess came back home as soon as they finished school, even skipping graduation, and you couldn't be happier to welcome them back.

You had done a few changes to the house since they had left. There was now a bed that could fit all of you in the master bedroom, and you set another room as an extra room when any of you needed privacy, and you had finished your baby's nursery. She didn't have a name yet - you liked the idea of letting Sam and Jess suggest names too, considering you were a pack and they would also be her parents, even if they weren't there to produce her.

Finally, finally, they were home and your family was complete.

The boys were off to deal with Sam's new university, where he would be continuing with his studies, but Jess had taken another road.

Oh, and she was also pregnant now. Your babies would be four months apart!

She still wasn't showing but was very proud of her belly anyway, showing it off, taking pictures every week and looping you into taking them with her with your weeks on the board and 'baby girl' and 'baby baby' under them.

You had to say, pregnancy suited her very well.

Your Omega was glowing and you could see how much happier she was now and it made you even happier that she was here with you.

"Oh, here," she pulled your hand, placing it on her 7 weeks belly.

You tried not to giggle at her enthusiasm.

It was impossible to notice anything about her pregnancy. Sometimes, she would feel things and try to make you or the boys feel it, and you had to stop Dean from telling her it was just gas.

But you didn't mind, because it was adorable!

While you were excited about your daughter, you were also very ready for her to come out already, though you were a bit far from that.

Your belly had begun to actually get big, and now you couldn't see your feet, and they were starting to swell.

Also, you were craving a few things to the point of them being the only thing you were able to think about sometimes!

Some nights you had to wake Dean up to ask him for some stuff, like peanut butter with ice cream, cucumber with jelly, his cum - and Sam's - on chocolate...

Cravings.

And you couldn't stop thinking of Jess' pussy.

Right at this moment.

As she spoke to you about whatever thing she was thinking about.

"Are you alright?" she asked, taking your focus to her voice. "Do you want some more cucumber with jelly?"

"Actually..." you bit your lower lip. "I'm craving something else right now."

You never thought you'd experiment with women before Joss, but she was one of the most beautiful Omegas you had ever seen and you wanted her even before you were mated.

"Oh, what is it?" she asked.

You took her hand, pulling her closer.

"Your pussy," you moved your nose over hers. "Can I have it, Jess? Can I eat your pussy?"

She licked her lips, eyes twinkling at the thought.

"Are you sure?" she asked. "You and Dean haven't mated in a while..."

It was true. Normally you two fucked like rabbits, but you were going through a very tired phase to go through being fucked and Dean understood that.

Mostly, you sucked his cock and used your hands on one another, and that was it.

"I am," you told her. "Please, Jess? I need it."

Jess nodded with her cheeks flushed, kissing you sweetly, but it quickly shifted into something passionate, and arched her body to yours when moved your hands to caress her beautiful tits, and pulled away from you slowly before you took it off.

"Let me give you a little show, Omega," she pulled back.

She teased you a little, taking off her shirt over her head, and massaging her tits a little bit as you licked your lips, eager to have them in your mouth.

Your Omega turned around to you, showing her ass in her itsy bitsy little shorts, buried between her ass cheeks at the end of her very long legs, and you just wanted to throw her on the couch just like that and fucking devour her.

Your pussy was already wet when she slid the piece off, stepping away from them and standing in your living room in just a little thong.

"Fucking tease," you whispered, licking your lips.

She giggled, playing with it with her fingers.

"You want me to take it off, Omega?" she teased you.

You nodded, and she pouted.

"Say please?"  Jess teased you.

Oh, how silly.

As if you were going to be bossed around by a younger Omega.

You stood up, pulling Jess and laying her down, half throwing but still making sure to be careful.

"I don't say please," you raised her ass.

Jess whined, sticking her ass out obediently, and you licked her over her panties, already seeing a little bit of her wetness sipping through them.

"Silly little Omega," you held her ass cheeks open.

You licked and licked her clit over the fabric until she was squirming and whining under you.

"Omega," she panted. "Please."

If you were Dean, you would have ripped off that silly thong and would give her a good spanking on her ass and her pussy.

Well... you could, couldn't you?

"Did Sam learn how to spank your pussy, Omega?" you asked her.

You tried ripping her panties, but struggled, and huffed to yourself.

How did Dean do that?

"No," she whined, looking back at you. "Sam is too afraid of hurting me."

You scoffed.

Silly Sam.

You pulled her panties down, watching with a pleased smirk when her wetness followed it with a long, stretched droplet.

Beautiful. Just beautiful.

You shifted her position, making her lay across your lap, thankful for the long space to stretch your legs so she would have where to lay on without your belly bothering her.

"Let's fix that, uh?" you decided.

You slapped her ass a couple of times, twice on each side, warming your hands up.

She gasped and whined as you did, her sweet ass making a perfect jiggle with each slap. Such a cute little college student, perfect little Omega.

"Omega," she moaned.

You hummed to her.

"Yes, sweet Omega?"

Jess wiggled her ass, as if that would tempt you into forgetting what you were doing now.

"Please," she whimpered. "Omega? Eat my pussy?"

You hummed a little, still slapping her ass.

"I don't know," you considered slowly. "You did tease me, Jess... I don't know if you deserve it."

She whined.

"But you said you-"

Before she could finish, you silenced her up with a slap on her pussy.

Jess cried out, shocked, and you were happy to find her so wet she made your hand all wet.

"Behave, little Omega," you slapped her again.

So that was why Dean liked this so much.

To shut up a silly, noisy Omega brat made you feel almost as much pleasure as being slapped yourself.

She cried as you found your rhythm, slapping her entrance and then her clit, til you were just slapping and slapping her.

You only stopped when your hand was all messy, finally satisfied, and made her lay on her back again, spreading her legs and licking her hungrily.

She came quickly after you set your lips on her, and you chuckled.

"What a messy little Omega," you teased, pushing two fingers into her. "So eager you barely needed any touch to cum."

Jess whined, and you just moved down to her, kissing and licking her cunt, eating her out hungrily, and moaned when you felt your tits ache and leak onto the couch.

Fuck, you hadn't even realised you were so horny.

You didn't stop licking and eating her out even after she came. Actually, you pined her down and focused on pleasing her even more.

During your first time, Dean had stopped you from making her cum so many times she got stupid and silly, but you were all alone now, and there was no Alpha around to tell you what you could or couldn't do with your Omega.

"Omega!" she cried, shaking under you. "Y/N!"

You held her, not letting her go from under you, and sucked onto her clit as you fucked her with two fingers, curling your fingers against her g-spot.

You'd make her cum until she didn't know anything but you, until she didn't need anything but you.

Jess's pussy squeezed your fingers when you pushed a third one inside - she was used to taking Sam's big cock, you knew she liked feeling full - and you focused a bit more on her sweet spot, looking to make her squirt.

"Y/N!" she cried. "Please, it's too much."

You clicked your tongue.

"But you can still form phrases, Omega," you reminded her. "I don't think it is enough."

Jess whined, desperate, and you held her close to you with your free arm.

You giggled, elated, when she moaned out loudly, her pussy squeezing your fingers tight as she finally squirted, wetting your whole face with her delicious slick.

You pulled away, sucking your fingers clean, giving her a minute, and turned her to lay with her belly up, drooling when you realised her tits were leaking all over.

"Oh, baby," you cooed. "Why didn't you tell me your milky tits were dripping?"

Jess looked down, seeming all dazed, unaware by her own biological reaction

So your hunch was right. Jess was just like you...

The Winchester did have a type, after all.

You latched onto her breast, sucking as you pushed your fingers into her cunt again, sucking her sweet, sweet milk, as you continued with your goal of making her just a silly little puddle of Omega slick.

She came beautifully under you, arching her hips to your hand, moaning so loud you knew she would be heard outside.

"Please, Omega," she begged. "Want your milk, please. I need your milk."

Oh, your poor Omega. You weren't the only hungry one, after all.

You moved up, putting a breast onto her lips and moaned when she started sucking down on you but focused on keeping fucking and playing with her with the hand you had on her pussy.

Jess' didn't pull away to moan when you felt her squeezing you again, her orgasm much quicker and much easier to pull from her now.

"My poor little Omega," you moaned. "So hungry for my milk, baby..."

Her beautiful eyes were closed, and she was just taking and taking everything from you, like a good Omega.

You didn't even notice she was moving to touch you until she did, and moaned when her slender fingers started playing with you, and couldn't hold back a loud cry.

"Fuck, Jess," you moaned.

She opened her eyes, pupils wide as she started fingering you and rubbing your clit with the heel of her hand.

Your eyes closed and you almost lost focus.

Fuck, you were so horny, so wet.

She pulled you up to her body, and you were quick to position yourself between your legs, rubbing your pussy on hers and moaning at how good, how sweet it felt.

You didn't stop when she came under you, too warm now, looking for your own pleasure.

"'mega," Jess cried under you. "Y/n!"

You reached down, pinching her tits and her nipples, and she cried out again, cumming one more time.

Before you could reach your own pleasure, though, a voice rose right behind you.

"My, my," Dean gasped. "What do we have here?"

…

“The Family” is the 4th part of “The Milk series”. To have early access to the second chapter subscribe to my page! It’s just $2 a month and helps me a lot through these hard times. I also post 6x a week.

…

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[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

“Don’t Provoke Dean”

Chapter 2

She had no idea where she was going, but her Omega told her to run hard from the pack leader. She knew she was faster than him, which meant he had to be smart or wait for her to get tired. She huffed, losing her jacket, she scented the air, searching for water. She moved around trees, avoiding bushes to prevent leaving her scent. Her human mind, still somewhat alert, began to question if she wanted to be caught.

She knew how she felt about him but was uncertain of his current intention. She was scared she pushed him too far and broke their friendship. Her Omega said differently believing this to be a mating run. She disbelieved the hopeful side of her. No one had ever punished her since she was packless. Being packless protected her from a lot of harm, but it also meant if an Alpha tried or did anything, there was no one to protect her or demand recompense on her behalf.

Every time she thought of Dean Winchester, her Omega would whine and whimper, saddened to be away from him. She had never understood the pull toward him, which had always been there. Since he seemed to not show any sign of it, she always assumed it was one-sided and just a biological instinct she ignored.

The run was making her realize just how tired she was of fighting whatever this was between them. She had never been afraid of Dean Winchester since they met. Right now, however, she was afraid of herself, of her Omega, because she wanted to be caught and had no idea what would happen when he did.

Dean, ever the hunter, knew after the first hunt with Y/N, they were scent-bonded. He never told Sam but wouldn’t be surprised if he knew. Sam was psychic and seemed to read people well. He caught her scent again and followed it. Her arousal became stronger, the vanilla becoming more buttery. The Alpha knew their situation was ideal: no wind and weather mild but for the humidity. He knew he could wait her out, but that meant she would stop simply due to her tiredness, he wanted her to want this just as much as him. His Alpha was a simpering mess every time she was near and he was done. Dean was going to mate her, and then neither of them would have this stupid argument ever again. She would be his Omega and he would get to keep her, forever.

Having hunted with her enough, he knew how she thought. He ran along the river, knowing she’d probably try to hide her scent. Oddly, once he was at the river, her scent didn’t lessen, it seemed stronger. He continued to follow it and after a few hundred yards noticed it weakened. He paused, scenting and tasting the air. He backtracked, thinking she must have done so as well. He was very wrong.

Once he was back at the river, where the scent guided him, he was knocked down to the ground. Instantly recognizing his Omega, he rolled to outmaneuver her but failed. She had him trapped in a headlock. He was getting too old to wrestle like a horny teenager. He was horny and knew his eyes were red. He was holding his Alpha from truly surfacing, worried he would scare her. He was a special Alpha who partially changed when completely in sync with his wolf. He was able to get out of her headlock and saw her.

Y/N was like him.

Her gold irises, beautiful in the moonlight that was making her freckles, somehow, glow. Her fangs had dropped as she encircled him. She had short, black claws in place of her fingernails and multiple tuffs of thin fur matching her Y/C hair on both hands, up her upper arms, and he bet it was along her back some too. Her scent wrapped around him: the woodiness of the sandalwood, the light, floral earthiness of strawberry, and the deep butteriness of the vanilla. The image of a sweet, floral strawberry rose pie on a window sill came to mind. It reminded him of the one Missouri made once, he secretly loved it but denied it when he was a kid. He inhaled his mate’s scent deeply.

Y/N growled at the Alpha. She was not some weak Omega waiting to be caught. No, she decided to trick him and get the jump on him before he did on her. Her plan worked perfectly until he got away. Despite her height advantage over him (being nearly a foot shorter than him), he was very good at wrestling and it was something they tended to do when bored at the bunker. She swiped at him, Alpha’s being quick to heal, his chest was already free of the mark by the time she’d knocked him off his feet and began working to pin him to the ground. He easily flipped them with his Alpha strength as his Alpha surfaced and he shifted as well.

Just like Y/N, Dean’s hands were covered in fur matching his dirty blonde hair that went up the back of his arms and down the back of his neck onto his whole back and down. His fangs dropped and he growled, dominantly, demanding her submission. She repositioned her feet and turned within his grasp onto her front but he kept her wrists in his hands. A wrong move for her as it allowed Dean to bite, without breaking skin, the back of her, pinning her Omega in place. Y/N’s Omega had no choice but to obey, and went pliant in his grip. She closed her eyes and waited. Her breathing came out in heavy pants. He carefully released his bite and leaned down next to her ear, licking the tender spot below and back of her ear causing a shiver to run down her body. Dean growled approvingly.

He nosed along her, placing sloppy kisses along her neck and inhaling at her mating gland. He licked and nipped her mating gland, increasing the scent of her Omega arousal. He softened his grip on her wrists as he continued to tease her mating gland. She whined as he continued.

“You have me,” Y/N’s voice broke with the admission. “Please,” she begged and huffed as she pushed her jean-cladded ass and thighs against his abdomen and pelvis.

He smiled, unseen, and kissed the back of her neck. Shivers ran down her spine each time he did. “Good girl.” She whimpered in response.

“Alpha,” she moaned, squeezing her thighs together.

“Impatient,” he stated, thrusting his leg between her legs. He leaned down next to her ear, breathing heavily. “You are mine, Y/N. I know you’ve felt it.”

She could feel tears flooding her eyes. He did. He did, and her mind celebrated.

He placed several kisses on the back of her back and quickly moved to limit his weight on her. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see, Omega,” he half growled and half whined.

She reached back, grabbed his neck, and turned her head into his face, attempting to nuzzle and comfort him. “I’m sorry…I…gave up,” she whispered, nasally from the tears she wouldn’t let fall.

He sat back, allowing her to roll back over. Her shirt and jeans were covered in dirt and grass stains. Dean figured he was the same but ignored it. It doesn’t matter. Red eyes met gold, silence encompassed them for several long moments as Dean looked over her face. Whatever Dean seemed to be searching for in Y/N’s face, he must have found it because the next thing she knew, he surged forward, kissing her. His arms wrapped around her, his leg returned between her thighs, and she reciprocated—one hand in his hair and the other holding the shirt on his back.

Dean pulled back, panting, gasping for breath. “You’re…you’re mine, Y/N.”

“I am,” she agreed, breathlessly. She whined. “Mate me, Alpha. Please,” she panted. “Please, Dean.” Her eyes searched his face.

“You’ll be mine?”

Tears began to fall down her cheeks. “I’ve always been yours, Dean. I—I—I love you.”

Dean passionately kissed her, mostly a gnashing of teeth and tongues. He slipped one hand between them, unsnapping his jeans and then hers, and pulled hers down. She wiggled to help, lips always touching, as he haphazardly pulled her underwear down in the process to where she had one leg out of her underwear and jeans. Dean smiled at this. She let go of his shirt and worked to help him with her jeans, and then when he leaned back, she followed him to help him with his. She reached in and grabbed his thick Alpha cock. He hissed at her touch and moaned as she pulled him out.

Moaning at the sight of Dean’s gorgeous erection, she laid down, grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him on her, wrapping her legs around him. “Fuck me, Alpha,” she demanded growling.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at her assertiveness as he went with her, one hand behind her head, leaning on his elbow as he took himself in hand positioning himself at her entrance. He looked down as he slowly pushed into her slick shiny pussy. Y/N groaned, reveling in the stretch. He touched everywhere inside her channel, and she practically purred at the feel.

Dean grinned, surprised by her sounds, and enjoyed them. “Like that, sweetheart?” His voice was deeper, guttural, and dancing goosebumps along her skin.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Full, so full, oh.”

Dean stilled but Y/N gritted her teeth. “Don’t you stop.”

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled back and thrust hard into her, both moaning in unison. He repeated the motion again and again as he built up a rhythm, both of them groaning in pleasure. Dean watched her writhe on his cock and felt her walls flutter around him. Y/N’s eyes were closed, mouth open panting as she held onto Dean’s biceps, meeting him thrust-for-thrust, over and over and over. Soon, she could feel his enlarging knot teasing her entrance. She tried grinding against him each time he bottomed out, pulling a growl from her when she succeeded

“Knot me,” she begged.

“Hold on, Darlin’,” Dean panted against her open mouth. He thrust harder, forcing his increasing knot in and out of her. Shudder after shudder with each jab of his knot’s partial entering, until his knot reached full size. A handful of thrusts later, he pushed it within her and the pressure against her sweet spot pulled her over the edge. Her walls squeezed around Dean’s knot and he bit into her swollen mating gland, coppery liquid rushing onto his tongue. He growled, feeling spend after spend coat Y/N’s inner walls as she gushed, coating his pelvis and her thighs in her juices, screaming through her orgasm as everything seemed to go dark.

To be continued…Part 3

Part 1

Tag @harmonity-vibes

[hiddenwritingsintheworld]

POLL TIME:

Please vote and lets see what all we have going on!!! So exciting! I know y'all love my stuff and Im excited to share all this stuff with you guys!! I do have a new series in the works!! I also have exciting stuff in the works!

I have currently 7,638 followers...I am working on doing a giveaway once we hit 8,000 followers!! Send me suggestions on what you'd like to see for a giveaway, also reblog this, like it, comment on it and lets blow this post up so we can get things moving in the right direction!!

[maximumkillshot]

When You Call-Part 15

Warnings: So much Smut... Seriously all minors leave, Cursing I believe...

Pairing: Alpha! Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Alpha!Sam Winchester, Alpha!Dean Winchester, Reader

A/N: It has been LITERAL YEARS I'M SO SORRY. A lot of things happened that I wish didn't and I almost lost my spark entirely. Then with @emoryhemsworth, I finally got it back! SO ENJOYY!!

“All I Could Do” Masterlist- CLICK HERE

Overall Masterlist- Click Here

“When You Call” Masterlist- Click Here

“The Situation” Masterlist- Click Here

I don’t think I’ve ever had a rut as long as this one, it was almost 2 weeks long. Y/N’s fever is finally going down too, which is great to hear. Also at the same time, I think my abs now rival that of Sammy’s so that’s also another good thing to come out of this. 

As my rut and her heat started going down we decided to have Sam come back home. As soon as she saw him she jumped into his arms. 

He chuckled as he said, “looks like someone is feeling better…” He brushed her hair back, taking note of all of the color coming back to her features and lack of heat under her skin. 

I smirked as she bounced, showing him the ring. The very same one that he helped me pick for her. He acted none the wiser, though.

I looked at her expression, not being able to remember the last time I felt this happy. When all of this would be a fever dream I’d get during my ruts when I was a horny teenager. Her being mine, us together, my mark on her. That one pipe dream would get me through anything, near-death experiences included.

I felt her circle behind me as she draped her arms over me. I relaxed into the touch.

I couldn’t help but think about what the rest of our lives are going to look like. Did I want to retire at some point? For her? Absolutely. I’ll take a desk job for her safety, for our pups, all of it. I’m getting ahead of myself though. 

“Wow you really did tame him.” Sam chuckled as he walked up to me and bumped fists, “look at him melting and you barely touched him.”

“Dean? He’s a teddy bear!” She giggled. 

I looked up at her as I said, “Nuh-uh I am your teddy bear, no one else’s.”

Sam laughed as he went off to his room to unpack.

Later on in the day as I was doing some research with Sammy, Y/N came in, “hey so I got a call from Jody, seemed urgent. I was thinking we could go and check it out.”

I could tell my demeanor changed just by the look she gave me. We? Hell no.

Sam looked at me, his eyes begging me not to do this. 

I finally opened my mouth, “Jody contacted you? But not Sam or myself. You wonder why, Omega?” It came out darker than I wanted it to, but I can’t help that I want to protect her. 

“She said you guys weren’t picking up. So she tried me, she also sends her apologies but this is one of those things that require the ‘Winchester touch’. Her words, not mine.” I could smell in her scent she was daring me to challenge her. 

“Sam, give us the room.” I ordered, keeping eye contact with her. 

“Dean just-”

“Did I stutter, Sam?” I growled. 

I was looking at Y/n the entire time, “Sam, go and pack, will you?” I said as I looked at her.

I felt her get brave at that, “Don’t talk to him like that.” She barked at me. I could see the hair stand up on her arms. I cocked my head to the side.

She started rounding the table as Sam got up, trying to get into the middle, “Ok we are not doing this right now.”

“I am going on this hunt,” I could hear the annoyance in her voice as I approached her.

As soon as Sam left the library. I got up out of my chair, standing to my full height.

“No you are not. What if something happens to you, huh?!” I chided, “what if you get hurt or worse?! What kind of Alpha would I be letting you go out there and risking yourself?” 

She rolled her eyes, “This isn’t up for debate,Dean.”

There is one look that she does, it’s a cross of ‘get the fuck out of my way’ and ‘are we clear?’, it shuts anyone up. She aimed that shit right at me. My worry and instinct threw all of that out the window though.

My eyebrows went up as I chuckled as I said, “You don’t get to tell me what is and isn’t up for debate, Omega.”

Her eyes narrowed, looking at me from all angles, “I’m going to pretend you didn’t just use my title in that tone. I’m also going to pretend that you didn’t just try to insinuate that I am not going to go on this hunt simply because you are my mate.” 

I tilted her gaze to me as I came to a stop directly in front of her, “It’s cute how you act like you’re bigger and meaner than you actually are.” I brushed some hair out of her face as I continued,“At the end of the day it’s just talk and you know that. You know that you are more vulnerable, more… what’s the word…” I trailed off.

I could smell her getting increasingly angry, “Don’t go there Winchester…” She warned. 

“ More fragile.” I saw her gaze narrow…

“Ohohoho you fucked up Winchester.” She laughed… The air coming off of her had a looming presence. I clenched my jaw as she continued, “you know damn well I’m the farthest thing from fragile.”

She started to walk away as I yelled at her, “Not like I’m going to find out because you aren’t going anywhere Y/N” 

All I heard was the slam of our bedroom door. She may hate me now, but at least she’s safe. 

Y/N POV:

Who does he think he is?! I can feel my blood boiling and my mark aching as I went directly against what he wanted me to do. I have been doing nothing but trying to get back to 100% after all the shit that’s plagued my life recently. After he claimed me I thought that this is the signal of things turning for the better. Then I saw that look on his face.

That same fucking face that screamed that he knew better than I did. Never mind that I was the one who brought the hunt to their attention in the first place. Never fucking mind I solo’d more hunts than the both of them put together… Fragile? FUCKING FRAGILE?!

I may be an Omega but I am every bit of Alpha when it comes to hunting. I couldn’t help but feel a heat pool in my belly at the look that he gave me. It made me want to both slap and ride his face at the same fucking time, which does not help me in trying to calm down. 

I decide against destroying our room and instead go to a positive release. I put on my workout bra and my yoga pants and head to the gym.

I was almost in the room but I’m stopped by a wall of a man, Sam. 

“No… Going to blow off some steam?” He asked, willing his eyes to come up to meet my eyes. 

“Y/N?” He asked. I looked up at him and I could tell he was having issues.

“Something wrong, Sammy?” I asked as he blatantly stared at my body. 

To which I chuckled and responded, “Life isn’t fair Sammy, consider it a life lesson!”

“Yeah” I said, making sure to sway my hips just a tad. Was it wrong of me to wag my ass at my future brother in law? Yes… but it’s not like I haven’t done that shit before and as a matter of fact it’s a running joke with the both of us.

“Not fair Y/N.” I heard him scold me.

I heard him laugh behind me as I turned into the gym.

I started off with free weights trying to make sure I keep my form perfect. 

Dean POV:

“What did you say to her?” Sam asked me as he plopped his duffel onto the table. 

I was in the library thinking of how I could’ve handled that better. Once again my foot’s in my mouth when it comes to her. I just don’t get why she’s doing this. Making it hard to protect her. You would think that she would get my apprehension when it comes to her safety.

I smell Sammy come in before I can see him.

I looked at him, his face was red, like he couldn’t control himself. 

“Short story I told her she wasn’t coming with us, why?” I asked. 

“Because I caught her on the way to the gym, she's dressed to kill and looks like she is going to kill our equipment if you don’t apologize.” Sam grabbed my whisky glass and drained it in one gulp, then poured me more.

“She’s doing it on purpose.” I said nonchalantly, “I called her fragile.”

His jaw dropped, “wow… you really are stupid.” he chuckled. 

“It’s not that bad.” I trailed off.

“Oh it isn’t? Do I need to remind you what she did to the last hunter who called her a ‘fragile Omega who needs protecting?’” 

“He had it coming he tried to grab her ass, Sam.” I tried to defend myself.

“What. Did. She… Do?” he punctuated.

“She… she broke his wrist.”

“Right she broke his wrist, his forearm, and kneed him so hard in the balls he had to see a specialized urologist because he wasn’t sure if he could have kids after the damage she dealt out.” Sam shook his head, “You are lucky she loves you because I’d be scraping you off the floor otherwise and I think you know that.”

I huffed as I said, “Yeah I know. I just don’t know how to protect her otherwise.” I ran a hand through my hair as I touched my mark. It's been hurting since I had that encounter with her, like it’s trying to tell me that my other half is not happy right now and I should probably fix that. 

“Listen I’ll take care of the hunt, you stay here with your Omega.”

I looked at him and he continued, “Maybe if you’re sidelined too you’ll understand exactly what you’re asking of her. I’ll see you both in a few days.”

With that he was out the door. 

I shut down my laptop and slammed the whisky Sam re-poured for me. I started walking towards the gym to apologize after I gave her some time to get her aggression out… just in case. 

When I finally made it to the door I saw her there, drenched in sweat, in her workout gear and headphones in. She is going to town on a 200 pound punching bag. She was landing combos on it, punches and kicks and making it sway on its chain. 

I heard her grunts and her breathing. It made my dick stir in my pants. The more I listened in I could hear her saying, “fuckin’ *thwack* fragile..” and “pulled his *right jab* ass out of a unghh *slip jab* collapsing house *thwack* doesn’t sound *elbow strike* Fragile to me *Forward kick*”

I smirked as I watched her, I don't know how she is doing it but she’s pulling off cute and terrifying at the same time. I couldn’t help but giggle at that. The duality of her. I saw her sweat flying as stray strands of hair stuck to her temples, while others formed light curls as they hung in her face. 

I didn’t want to startle her so I tried to walk into her field of view. She looked at me and paused her music, taking off the headphones. 

“What?” She questioned as she went back to beating the punching bag to a pulp.

“Look what I said was wrong, okay?” 

She laughed at that, “I’m not going to stop hitting this bag because it is the only thing stopping me from beating the shit out of you. That is the least I can do.” She glared in my direction as she bared her teeth at me. “You’re lucky I’m even letting you speak after the shit you pulled. You do remember what I did to the other guy that tried to pull that shit, right?” 

“No shit. I pulled you and Sam out of buildings, dragged 200lb bodies, snapped bones with my bare hands, I don’t need you to tell me you were wrong. Because it’s pretty fucking obvious.” She said as she landed another kick on the bag.

“I’m trying to apologize here,” I quipped, “The least you can do is look at me.”

“Sam reminded me.” I huffed.

She looked at me smirking as she went back to the bag, “you fucking heard me.”

“There’s an Alpha I can get behind… well on top of.” She laughed to herself.

My jaw hung open at that, ‘What did you just fucking say?” I had to have heard wrong. 

I growled at her, “I know I fucked up but don’t you ever…”

“Ever what, Dean?” She stopped hitting the bag and started advancing on me, “Let me guess he was the one who told you to fix it? Right? My guess is he left without both of us, right?! He has more emotional intelligence than you could ever dream of possessing. Not to mention that he doesn’t try to fucking pidgeonhole me into being the ‘Perfect Omega’” She spat at me as tears threatened her eyes. 

“Why am I not enough,Dean? I never questioned you. I ran through hell and back for you, yet instead of letting me be me you pulled this shit and the only Alpha who fought for me and what I wanted was Sam. And even saying that makes me want to vomit because I don’t want him. I never did! I want you. I still want you! I want my Alpha to love me the way that I am!” she screamed at me. 

Before I could blink she was out of the room. It took me a second to process, “Don’t fucking walk away from me Y/N.” I spat as I looked into the hallway. 

I made it out there just in time to see her duck into the shower room.

I tore into that room like a bat out of hell.

I saw her starting the shower up as she said, “Take the fucking hint, Dean.”

I screamed at her, “You don’t get to run away after saying all of that shit to me after saying that you’d want my brother to claim you instead of me Y/N, that’s fucking low even for you!”

She looked at me and scoffed, “You are so fucking blind I’m surprised you haven’t gotten lasik.” 

I glared at her as she continued, “I never wanted Sam. I told your dumbass that. I want you to support me, to understand that I will never be the way that you want me to be. I will always run into danger because you run into danger and you are the only part of me that I love! The only part that’s worth saving!”

The next thing I know I’m pinning her to the shower wall and kissing her. I don’t care that we are fully clothed under the spray, my heart was aching hearing her say that… All of those things. I needed her to know what I couldn’t vocalize, the anger of hearing her say those things but not at her. At myself. I felt her trail her hands up my chest and around my neck

I nipped at her lips, begging to be let in, not like I deserved to be in the first place.

I kissed the corner of her mouth as it threatened to frown, “Please don’t hurt me like that.”

Almost immediately her mouth opened for me. I felt her undoing my belt and unzipping my jeans while I grabbed her sports bra and started to take it off of her. She whimpered when I pulled away but as soon as I took it off and ripped off my own shirt. I went right back to kissing her.

I could feel her chest heaving, as whimpers left her, I looked down at her to see her trying to fight tears, I kissed them away as fast as they fell saying, “Please don’t do that,Baby.” 

I kissed her temple, “Don’t say those things about yourself.”

Then her forehead, “You are worth so much more than me, my beautiful fiancee.”

I picked up her hands and kissed them, “My mate.”

I kissed down her chest, “My reason for breathing.”

I brought her pants and panties down her legs, kissing everywhere I could reach, “you save me every single day.”

 Tears threatened my eyes as I kissed up her body, “I love you so much it scares me.”

I looked at her as she wiped my face and I reveled in the touch, “That’s why I am the way I am… I almost lost you. I can’t.. I can’t lose you, Y/N.”

She looked into my eyes as I tried to calm myself, as if she knew what I needed she brought my lips to hers again. Just that simple contact set me on fire. I cradled her head in my hands, as if she’d break if I let go or use too much pressure.

She smiled at me as she did. Once she started working on herself, I grabbed the soap from her. 

I felt her push my jeans and boxers all the way to the floor and I kicked them away. I felt her draw circles on me as we kissed, it was something she just does when she can sense I’m stressed or in pain, sad.

She only broke that kiss to say, “I’m right here,Baby.” She kissed my palms and I went right back to kissing her. When she could sense she could break the kiss she grabbed soap and started working a lather in her hands, spreading it on my body. 

I spoke in whispers to her as I cleaned her, “This brings me back. Back when you need help because of your ribs.” I kissed her shoulders.

I smiled at her, “And I’m yours, always and forever.” I kissed her longer at that. I could smell her arousal as I trailed my hands down her curves. As if on command she trusted me completely as I picked her up, wrapping her legs around my waist.

She smiled at that memory, “I remember. Now look at where we are,” she looked at me with a smile that reached her eyes and a giggle that made my heart skip a beat. “Now we’re engaged. And I’m yours.” she touched her claim mark and kissed the one she left on me. 

I heard her giggling as kissed right under her ear. It’s moments like this that make the hell we went through worth it.

She pulled back and looked at me peppering my face with kisses making me giggle as I told her. “We don’t have a condom here, Omega.” 

She just smiled at me and said, “Good thing that the doctor put me on the pill in case we couldn’t wait. All he asks is that we use protection for the week and a half after we choose to start trying.”

This is my first time actually feeling her, “Shit, you feel so perfect Baby.” There is no other word to describe the way she feels. She’s perfect. 

I smiled as I said, “I completely forgot about that.” She smiled at me as I lined myself up with her.

As soon as sunk her down onto me we both let out a moan at the feeling.

“So are you, I can feel every vein, so good..” Was all she could say, “Made for me, love you so much.”

I kissed her with every ounce of pent up emotion I’ve had, I started moving as soon as I was sure I wouldn’t blow my load early. I want this to last as long as possible, but with how she’s squeezing me I can tell that is a big ask from the both of us, given how we’ve been unintentionally teasing each other this entire time. 

My hands went from her waist to her ass as I kissed and nipped at her neck. I slowly started lifting and guiding her back onto my shaft. When I looked at her I had to bite my lip so hard I nearly drew blood. 

Her eyes were blown out, her kiss swollen lips were open slightly letting out the most sinful moans I have ever heard come out of a person. That’s all secondary to the fact that when I looked at where we were joined, I could literally see an outline of my cock in her stomach. 

I moved one of my hands to the bulge, I couldn’t help but moan at the sight. She followed my gaze and smiled at me. I crashed my lips back into hers as I picked up the pace slightly. The only things that could be heard in the shower room were our moans, the water from the shower, and skin on skin. 

Feeling her squeeze me like a vice while her nails scratched at my back, leaving a trail of delicious heat after them.

Everything started building. Hearing her moans.

Her lips sucking on my skin, her chest sliding against mine.

All of this would make any man cum alone but the cherry on top of all of this was her breathlessly begging me to cum.

“Please, Alpha, cum for me. Fill me up. I need it. Baby please.”

That’s what did it as my knot popped and I filled her completely, so much so that her stomach was distended. 

I came so hard that I had to use a hand to support us on the shower wall. 

When I looked at Y/N I could see that she was still very high off of her orgasm, so I just held her tight to my body, angling her head so that she could scent me. 

‘It’s okay I got you Omega, breathe I got you.” I petted her hair back as I turned off the shower and grabbed a towel for us.

I made sure to cover her first as I walked back to our room. 

By the time I dried us off and peeled back the covers she started coming to…

“De-Dean” 

I smiled at hearing her voice, she is so out of it. That fact that I made her that way made my heart swell a bit. She feels safe enough to let go completely like this, knowing I’ll take care of her.

I laid the towel down for when my knot finally deflated, although I can tell it’s not going to happen for a while. 

I laid her down on the bed with me on top, so no pressure is on the knot and I put the blanket over us. 

I finally got to see her face as I pulled back, “Hey Beautiful, welcome back.” I said as I kissed her nose. 

She scrunched her face and said, “That hit different.”

I started laughing as I said, “you looked like you were  just gone, Baby I’m not gonna lie.”

She smirked and said, “That was an out of body experience right there, I astral projected like Dr.Strange or something.”

I started full on belly laughing as I looked at her I held up two fingers and I said, “How many am I holding up?”

She swatted my chest and she said “Two.” 

I laughed as I got lotion from the side table and moisturized her entire body, getting her to relax. Afterwards, I just cuddled her, putting my head on her chest, listening to her heartbeat as I waited. 

Maybe 20 mins later I could finally pull out. 

As soon as I did I cleaned her up and went to get her water. 

Then she looked up with tired eyes, “Can we cuddle?”

How could I say no to that. The laundry, the clothes, all of that can wait. 

I climbed into bed with my Omega and not even a few minutes later, we fell into a peaceful sleep.

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