#in short top!dean/bottom!sam is the only dynamic that feels right

[lambmotifz]

what are your favorite nsfw wincest headcannons?

i’m a “they didn’t have sex with each other pre series” truther

they have their first time together at some point in late s3 (dean’s clock is ticking and with each passing moment, he is closer and closer to death. and sam’s getting more and more desperate). another option that feels right to me is after sam gets his soul back and gets his wall broken (honestly this time stamp is perfect for them to have their first sex because at this point dean probably wouldn’t care that much about feeling guilty for wanting to fuck his little brother since he’d look at it as a way of taking care of sam)

also love the idea of them having their first time right before swan song

sam initiates and prefers to bottom. love love love s3 bossy power bottom sam. but other times he’d definitely prefer to be more submissive because dean is the only person whom he trusts enough to be vulnerable like that and also because he knows how much dean needs to be in control

dean doesn’t bottom and is mostly a service top but he might as well be a dom top (because he’s selfish and extremely possessive when it comes to sam. let’s be real his little brother is the only person he would ever want to domtop) or a sub top (we all know he canonically likes when “frisky women” ride him. “frisky women” include his brother obviously. you can’t convince me he doesn’t want to be sam’s personal dildo ♡). it mostly depends on the season. also pre hell dean would definitely be more sub than post hell dean

they don’t fuck often because it’s not really about sex for the sake of it. for dean, having sex with sam is first and foremost a physical way to own him, to prove to himself that sam is his. for sam it’s a bit more complicated because as much as he is a needy bratty bottom when it comes to his big brother, for the most part of it he’d see sex with dean as a way of showing his devotion towards him. that’s not to say that their romantic dynamic is one sided but sam is canonically much less possessive than dean is in their relationship. what he craves most is dean’s trust & approval, especially in s4-5

here’re kinks that i can see them having in canon

[samanddeaninpanties]

Title: Lion’s Share 

AO3 Link

Square Filled: Claiming 

Ship: Dean/Jack

Rating: E 

Written for the @winklinebingo 

Tags: Dubious Consent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Jack Kline, Alpha/Alpha, Omega Sam Winchester (mentioned), Anal Fingering, Rimming, Anal Sex, Knotting, Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Jack Kline, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Dean Winchester, Jealous Dean Winchester, First Time, First Kiss, Banter, Arguing, Violence, the violence is fairly mild it’s mainly just the set-up for the sex, Wall Sex, Age Difference, Barebacking, Mentioned Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Mentioned Jack Kline/Sam Winchester, Come as Lube, Porn, Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Heart-to-Heart, Manhandling, Claiming, Mating Bites, Loss of Control, Roommates, oh my god they were roommates, POV Jack Kline 

Summary: Jack is drawn to unmated omega Sam. His asshole alpha brother Dean is having none of it. 

(A.k.a "Knot the omega you are looking for") 

“What the fuck is this?" Dean snapped, throwing a bouquet of wildflowers at Jack as he stormed into the man-cave. 

Jack caught it but his bowl of Reese’s Puffs cereal spilled and tumbled to the floor. He scowled at Dean and placed the flowers on the arm of the La-Z-Boy recliner. "Don’t tell me you don’t know what flowers are.” 

Dean rolled his eyes. "Why were they in Sam's room?"

"Because I gave them to Sam. Why were you in his room?"

"Putting his laundry in there. That's not the point. I'm pretty fucking tired of you constantly putting moves on him."

Jack raised an eyebrow before turning his attention back to the TV. "Sam's an unmated omega.” 

"And you just conveniently didn't notice my scent marking?" 

"Is that supposed to mean something to me? Your scent is inescapable, Dean. It’s everywhere.” 

Dean snarled and grabbed Jack by his shirt collar and heaved him up out of the chair. "You’re too smart to be so fucking stupid. I meant on Sam."

Jack's breath hitched at Dean's fury but he raised his chin, stomping out any hint of weakness. "No, I didn’t notice."

"Well you should, Jack. Because it’s my knot that gets him through his heats. So I'm gonna tell you straight up: fuck off," Dean said. 

Jack swallowed a groan and tried to extricate himself from Dean’s grasp. "No. Your agreement is out of convenience, not love. Maybe Sam wants to explore his options."

Dean forced Jack backward and slammed Jack against the brick wall by the open door. Sam could come back from the supply run any second and - 

“Get off me," Jack panted and shoved Dean’s chest, hard. 

The push sent Dean off balance but he didn't let go of Jack. He thrust Jack back into the wall and pinned him there. "I don't care what you think you have going on with my brother. He's not available." 

Jack’s insides turned into liquid. "How do you know? Have you asked him what he wants?" 

"Sam is mine. My brother, my omega, mine." There was a pounding in Jack’s blood, a click in his head. Dean’s lips were rosy; fuckable. Maddeningly distracting. Really, Dean’s whole face screamed omega at first blush but Dean had been quick to put those thoughts to bed. 

"He’s never stated that. Can you blame me for trying? Sam's so pretty." Jack sounded needy and mindless rather than confident and in control.

"I don't blame you. I'm just telling you enough is enough.” 

Jack quit trying to escape. It was fruitless. Dean was bigger and stronger and he just couldn’t. "Did you really think that if you ordered me to stop I’d obey?"

"Maybe I should put you in your place then." 

Jack jolted, dick straining. Disgusting. Shameful. And so hot. His eyes wandered to the Foosball table, the unfinished bar, Dean’s toys, his whole domain. He was just another thing in Dean’s den to be used as Dean saw fit. "If you're trying to scare me it’s not going to work.” 

Dean snickered. "Thought so. You dirty boy. Moaning and whining like a bitch in heat while I touch you."

Jack was dripping inside his pants. It didn't even matter that Dean was laughing at him, his dick, his knot, knew what it wanted. "You’re not my type,” Jack lied because he wasn’t ready to inflate Dean’s overblown ego just yet. 

"Your type seems to be oversized omegas but we're going to fix that, aren't we?" Dean maneuvered Jack so he was facing the wall. “You want me to fuck you, Jack? Claim you?"

"Dean," Jack keened, canting his hips. His mind was stuck on claim claim claim. Such a derogatory word to use when playing with another alpha. 

Dean dragged his teeth over the nape of Jack's neck. A threat, a tease. So unfair. "Bet you wish you could get wet for me." He snaked an arm around Jack's body, found his cock. Squeezed it. "I should keep you both.” 

Jack groaned, rocking against Dean’s hand. Dean’s hand was fire, it was a brand. "You don't even like me." 

"Who said I don't like you?" 

"You did with your attitude. All the glaring and baring of teeth," Jack rasped and looked over his shoulder so he could gaze into Dean’s piercing eyes. 

"Yeah, well. Maybe if you didn't choose to sniff around Sam... “ Dean pushed Jack's shirt up and over his head and threw it on the floor. 

Jack drifted away from the wall, facing Dean to give him better access. "It was like that before I 'sniffed around Sam.'"

"Whatever." Dean started on Jack's pants. Once Jack was naked, Dean roughly grabbed Jack’s chin and consumed him with a heated kiss. His free hand stroked Jack. Slow. Torturous. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Dean let out a growl that shook Jack down to his bones, his innermost parts. He manhandled Jack back into position, nose facing the wall like he was a naughty child in time-out. And then Dean was sinking to his knees. 

“What are you - oh!” Jack’s body threatened to collapse when Dean pulled his cheeks apart and buried his face between them, forcing his tongue into Jack’s hole. A place he’d never let anyone. A place that was only Jack’s. 

Dean was deadset on barreling through any boundary Jack had ever had without bothering to ask him if it was okay. And Jack couldn’t even be mad, no one had ever made him feel this wanted, this desirable. 

“Two little omegas,” Dean purred against hot flesh. His tongue was slippery-wet, fucking in and out, making Jack’s toes curl. Too much, not enough. “All for me.” 

“Not an omega.” 

“You will be when I’m finished with you.” 

Jack wanted to laugh at the sheer idiocy of Dean’s statement. The certainty. Dean was letting his inner alpha run wild and dominate every part of their interaction and it showed. “You’re delusional.” 

“Nah. I just know a knot-slut when I smell one,” Dean said and went right back to destroying Jack with that wicked tongue. Dean’s hand found Jack’s cock again and pumped him expertly as he ate Jack out. “Come on, baby. Give up the goods, make a mess in my hand. You know I need it, we need it,” Dean said, using his alpha voice. 

Jack’s window of opportunity, his chance to fight tooth and nail, was long gone - not that it ever would’ve ended differently. Dean was too strong and Jack didn’t really want to get away, even if it meant the humiliation of being taken and claimed rather than being the one doing the claiming. 

Dean wanted him, a turn of events he wouldn’t have expected a few short weeks ago. Actually, he wouldn’t have thought it possible twelve hours ago - 

“Jack,” Dean said, nipping Jack’s ass cheek. Jack came with a soft whine into Dean’s hand, his sloppy, tongue-fucked hole clenching greedily. 

“Oh, baby. You can do better than that,” Dean purred. Dean waited a few beats before pressing two come-slick fingers into Jack. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Gotta scream for me, Jack. Gotta beg me real sweet.” 

“Dean, no,” Jack said, his voice wavering as he fucked himself on Dean’s hand. 

“Nuh-uh, try again. Dean, yes.” Dean added another finger and Jack was afraid he’d break, that he was being pushed beyond his limit, beyond what his body could take. His hole felt so small with Dean inside him, how on earth was an alpha cock supposed to fit? 

“Can’t -” 

“Yeah, you can, baby. And you will. And you want it.” When Dean started to withdraw his fingers Jack tried to turn and see - but Dean was prepared for that. “No moving. Not yet.” 

Jack huffed and settled. “You’re really starting to get on my nerves, Dean.” 

“Welcome to the club,” Dean said, his giant hands using Jack for support as he returned to his feet. He only removed his hands long enough to rid himself of his clothes, tossing them into a messy pile, and then he was back to crowding Jack against the wall. And oh, Dean’s cock burned even hotter than his hands. He humped between Jack’s cheeks, making his home near Jack’s hole. Ready to claim it properly any second. “That’s how you make me feel all the time.” 

“So, I was right! You can’t stand me,” Jack said, trying to avoid the sting, trying to ignore the ache and embarrassment. He’d been told more than once he was too sensitive for his own good. His hurt was confirmation, proof the criticisms were correct. 

Dean kissed the nape of Jack’s neck, dragged his lips along it. Jack’s body was a treacherous thing because he arched into the contact like the slut Dean had proven him to be. “It’s complicated. C’mon Jack, don’t act like you don’t get it. Sometimes love can be hateful. We hurt people we love more than we hurt people we couldn’t give a damn about.” 

“Shut up, Dean.” 

“Aw, baby. I have what you need,” Dean crooned and began pressing his cock into Jack’s ass. 

The impossible stretch made Jack’s eyes water. “I can’t,” Jack choked out. He squirmed as Dean sank deeper and Jack’s inner alpha screamed at Jack to fight. To push Dean away. Out. “You have to -” 

“Relax.” Dean soothed his big, callused hand over Jack’s lower back. “You’ll work yourself into a panic if you don’t.” 

“No, Dean, you don’t understand. We were wrong to try. Alphas aren’t made to fit a knot,” Jack said, his last words breaking and twisting into a moan. 

“Feels right to me. Looks awesome, too.” Dean grabbed the meat of Jack’s ass. Spread Jack’s cheeks as he continued to glide in, punching the air out of him with each thrust. Jack could only ride the waves of discomfort in hopes he came out the other side relatively unscathed. “Your hole is doing the work it needs to do. I’ve got you.” 

“Okay, Dean,” Jack groaned. Nodded. He ached more than anything but Dean believed Jack could handle Dean’s cock - so Jack could trust him. 

“I wanna take you hard,” Dean panted, licking a hot stripe along Jack’s neck. 

“You really wanna mess me up, don’t you?” 

Dean laughed and shoved in brutally, cock pulsing with the need to knot. “Only in the best ways.” 

“Please shut up.” The pace was quick. Bruising. There was a choking relief at being fucked. 

“Oh, I got a ‘please’ this time? Gotta mark this on my calendar, write it down in my diary. ‘I dicked Jack so good he said please. Can’t wait to do it again.’” 

“You really are an asshole,” Jack said, face flaming from humiliation as Dean cackled like a lunatic. Dean was teasing Jack and it wasn’t nice - but he’d said something very important, too. Something Jack needed clarification on. “Do you wanna fuck me again, though?” 

Dean hummed. Kissed the lobe of his ear. Breathed into it. “Hell yeah.” 

Jack whined and yelped as Dean’s next shove hit just right. “Dean, you’re killing me.” 

“Better start working on your stamina, kid, because I have no interest in going easy on you. Ever,” Dean promised as he plunged deep into Jack. 

Jack came unexpectedly with a sob, lost as Dean fucked him through the aftershocks. “Dean - please. Please can we -” his voice cut off, moaning as Dean pulled out of him. His ruined hole clenched on nothing. An eager, hungry thing. 

“C’mon,” Dean ordered, tugging Jack away from the wall and over to the recliner. Dean sat first, patting his lap expectantly. “Sit on me, baby.” 

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. His legs were desperate for a break. He scrambled onto Dean’s cock as fast as his body would let him, moaning as he sank down, taking everything. His puffy, abused hole so happy to be filled with Dean’s giant cock. “You have to come, too, don’t leave me alone,” Jack finally rasped, rolling his hips.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be with you in a minute,” Dean purred. Squeezing the globes of Jack’s ass. 

When Dean’s knot started to inflate it was bigger than anything Jack had imagined, it filled up every empty space and then some, and Jack thought he’d scream or stop breathing altogether when Dean’s knot almost popped out and he dragged Jack closer to him, making sure his knot and come stayed in. “Told you. I’m too small,” Jack said faintly as more of Dean’s come shot inside. 

“I disagree,” Dean said in his smug alpha tone then bit down on Jack’s neck, leaving a raw, tender wound. A claiming mark. “Mine.” 

“Dean. I didn’t say you could do that.” There was a not-so-secret part of him that liked it, that just needed to be forced. Playing with Dean made him feel insane. 

“You didn’t have to.” Jack smacked Dean’s chest and he caught Jack’s wrist in his tight grip. 

“Need more training, huh? Maybe when my knot goes down I should tie your feisty little ass up in my room, keep you near me always.” 

Jack bared his teeth. “Dean, you can tease me all you want, it doesn’t change anything. I’m an alpha. Not an omega. I’m going to keep wanting what I want.” 

“You still want Sam.” Relief trickled into Jack. It wasn’t a question. Maybe they were getting somewhere, maybe there was hope this could end without too much drama or tears. “I get it. Anyone with half a brain does.” Dean faltered, fell silent again. Jack tried to give Dean room to think, tried to wait. For a few seconds, anyway. He wracked his brain for a solution. Couldn’t leave Dean alone. Coax it out of him. Jack tossed his head, gazed at Dean through his lashes, and milked Dean’s knot. Come on, Dean. You can do it. And then - success. Dean’s eyes softened and he let go of Jack’s wrist. “You got under my skin in a way others didn’t. Hasn’t done great things for me. I know Sammy loves me. But I could just stick with him the rest of my life and be happy - I don’t think the same could be said about him. So, yeah, maybe I was feeling a little, uh, threatened by you or whatever.” 

For a heartbeat, Dean looked so damned sad. Little boy lost. It was gone in a blink but Jack had seen it. Dean’s insecurities, his fears, laid bare for Jack. “You know he doesn’t need to choose, right? If Sam needs more than just you… he could have it all? We could share?” Jack placed a hand on Dean’s cheek. “I won’t try to replace you, Dean.” 

Dean hummed. His gaze roamed over Jack, making Jack’s heart jump. “Maybe you could have a supervised session. If you can earn it. I want you all to myself right now, though.” Dean didn’t give Jack a chance to pout, pulling him into another life-changing kiss. 

“If you want me all to yourself, fucking me with the door wide open was a bad idea. What if Sam sees?” Jack croaked when the kiss broke. Dean tweaked Jack’s nipples, growling playfully. Even if Jack wasn’t full of Dean’s knot, he had a feeling Dean wouldn’t bother locking them away somewhere safe and private. 

Maybe that was a good thing. 

Jack let himself melt into Dean and drifted off on his knot. 

[coffee-obsessed-writer]

You’re Mine, Pt. 3

Jensen x Reader x Danneel

Warnings: Porn with Barely-There Plot, slight Dom!Jensen, 18+ ONLY (Please adhere to this kiddies), hallway smut, threesome smut, female oral giving and receiving, mild language, poly relationship

A/N: PART ONE stemmed from a dream I had and with encouragement from friends turned it into a fic. First time I ever attempted something like this, so please be gentle with me. The second part was written as a request to continue the story.

Chapter Summary: Once their relationship is exposed, one of the trio decides to take a job far away without dealing with the fallout of the exposure. The timing of which is right before a new situation complicates the new family dynamic even more. 

WC: 7.9K

*Banner made by me. I do not own any of the images.

Tags are open for the series, SPN (Sam and/or Dean) and SPN RPF 

Late July in Texas brought on a bout of heat so oppressive, that stepping outside only happened when it was extremely necessary. Not even a swim in the pool or a day at the lake could take the sting out of the day’s sun that would beat down relentlessly. 

It had been a little more than two months since you officially had moved in with Jensen and Danneel and became a part of the Ackles’ family. Things were a little awkward at first, learning how and where you fit into their day to day lives, but after a couple of weeks the three of you, plus the kids found an easy-going rapport that eventually morphed into a new day to day routine. 

The kids never even questioned who you were or why you were living there. Jensen and Danneel had sat down with them and explained that you were now part of their family and they accepted it without a second thought. Spending time with them and getting to know them had been the highlight of the summer so far, and made you really think long and hard about what Jensen had suggested the night they asked you to move in. But with his schedule, and Danneel taking the kids on a whirlwind trip with her mom, the timing hadn’t been right. 

It had been three weeks since Jensen had left for Vancouver, and three days since Danneel left with the kids, and you found yourself rattling around the big old house alone. Keeping yourself busy during most days with work, the nights were starting to get a little lonely, and it simply cemented in your head and heart how much you really had come to love and miss all of them. You thought of calling or texting but also didn’t want to appear clingy or desperate for their attention.

Instead, after the sun went down, you threw on your bathing suit and ventured down to the pool for a nighttime swim to rid yourself of the excess energy built up from not having your new family around.

The moment you dove into the water and felt the crisp coolness flow over your body, you couldn’t help but smile. Surfacing, and brushing the hair back from your face, you closed your eyes and dipped your head back, letting your body rise and float around the pool. A noise off in the distance grabbed your attention, but you didn’t think much of it. Could be neighbors, or someone out on the lake. Instead, you opened your eyes and looked up to a clear night sky full of stars as you slowly waved your arms up and down to propel yourself around the pool. 

More noise, this time way closer, forced you from your floating position to standing up in the pool, then looking around trying to find the source. From up the hill towards the house, you heard music playing and the backdoor open then close. Curious as to who could be in the house, your heart started racing at the idea of one of the Ackles’ friends, namely Misha, having stopped by unannounced.

“That’s dumb,” you whispered to yourself, “he’s in Vancouver with Jensen… but who--”

“Hey there, gorgeous.” 

Jensen. You’d know that voice anywhere. 

You whirled around in the pool and saw him standing near the edge of the deep end. He was in a dark blue polo, with khaki shorts, and a baseball cap, and looking better than you’d ever seen him, despite having had to shave off his beard. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked, unable to stop the wide smile that grew on your lips. “You’re not even supposed to be in the country, let alone the state of Texas.”

“We had a break for a couple of days, thought I would come home and surprise you guys,” he said, crouching by the pool’s edge. 

“Well, it's just me here. Danneel and the kids--”

“Yeah, she told me and then I realized once I was at the airport this was the week they were gone. They’re with grandma somewhere… Boston? I think?”

“That’s one of the stops. I think they were heading up to Maine, next. Going to take them on a cruise up to Nova Scotia, see some whales.”

“How come you didn’t go?” he asked, tilting his head, following your movement through the pool with soft, engaging eyes. 

“Work,” you shrugged and reached the edge to where he was knelt down. “Told Danneel I’d keep the house in order, make sure the kids’ fish and hamsters were fed.”

“You passed up whale watching in Nova Scotia to feed some hairy rats?”Jensen laughed and shook his head. “You’re too much.”

“Not just that, I do have work. Got three new clients this month.”

“You know you don’t have to work, right? We can support you--”

“Not this again,” you groaned and pushed off the side of the pool, lazily swimming backward away from him. “I want to work. I enjoy working, Jensen. I won’t have you guys supporting me.”

“That’s what families do for each other, Y/N.”

“You know what else families do?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Can’t imagine. What?”

You bit down on your lip and eyed him seductively. “They join their girlfriends in the pool for a late-night swim.”

Jensen stood up quickly from his crouched position. You laughed at his expression as he threw his hat to the ground before pulling his polo off, kicking off his shoes and removing his shorts, leaving him only in his boxers. He promptly dove into the pool with a big splash, and then swam underwater until he reached where you were, breaching the surface and immediately grabbing your waist.

His mouth crashed to yours hard, nearly knocking you back. Your arms went around his neck as you kissed him back with rolling tongues and hungry lips. The feeling of having him against you again was euphoric, and you realized then how desperately you had missed him. Jensen walked you back towards the edge of the pool, never taking his mouth off of yours. He growled lowly the deeper you kissed him, and when your back finally bumped against the side, you felt his hands slid up your back and pull the strings that held your bikini top on.

You couldn’t help but giggle as you saw the simple black top floating away from you in the pool. 

“Guess this is a skinny dip and not just a late-night swim, hm?”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, moving his mouth down your neck, then lifting you out of the water just enough to take your nipple in his mouth. 

The sensation of the cool water and his tongue made you instantly wet and needy. You pawed at the boxers under the water, then at your own bathing suit bottom, of which Jensen helped free you from.

“Jesus…” he moaned as you grabbed his cock and began to stroke it beneath the water. 

Below the surface, Jensen’s hand went to your pussy to see how ready you were to take him. There was no waiting, no foreplay. He wanted you, and he wanted you now. You knew by the look in his eyes, one you had seen plenty of times since first meeting him. He was a man possessed--needy and hungry--and you were his sustenance. 

Standing in the shallow end of the pool, you felt him slip up inside you. The sound that fell from your lips, a composure of a soft moan followed by a sharp inhale of his name, made him smile; but not a sweet smile. Jensen leered at you, his tongue slowly trailing across his bottom lip as he watched you respond to the sensation with each roll of his hips. One hand dig firmly into your hip so he wouldn’t lose his grip on you, the other ran up your body, covering your breasts then went up to your neck. He pulled you close to him, as his fingers gently closed around your throat. 

“Miss me?” he growled in question, biting his lip, trying to control the speed he moved into you.

“Yesss,” you mewed as your eyes rolled back, along with your head as you lost yourself in him. 

The sounds of splashing water and crickets were all that could be heard in the backyard. Having to remain relatively quiet in the house was normal, but no one was home now. You wanted to cry out, screaming his name and all the things you wanted him to do to you. Jensen was always so intuned to you whenever you were having sex, he could tell what you wanted just by your expression when your eyes finally met. But to have the freedom to be vocal, that was a turn on all in itself. 

“Tell me,” he snarled, his nostrils flaring, as his lips pulled into a devilish grin. “Tell me what you want.” He slowed his hips to a snail’s pace, barely twitching inside you now until you told him what to do.

You licked your lips with satisfaction and leaned your mouth closer to his ear. “Mark me. Make me yours. I want your teeth on my neck, then I want you to make me squirm. No one can do that to me as you can,” you purred, then ran your tongue along the outside of his ear.

Jensen raised his brow in question, but quickly obliged your request, landing his teeth to the place just where your neck curved to your shoulder. The sensation of his mouth and tongue on your flesh caused the first ripple of release to explode warmly in your core. Something about the way he did that, the idea he was marking you as his, could make you cum in its own rite. Despite the way he was biting and sucking along your neck, hungry to make you happy, you were able to hold off from climax; for now. 

A moment later, he was lifting you out of the pool, moving your ass on the edge and pushing you backward. Jensen pushed your knees apart and buried his head between your thighs as his hands wrapped around your hips, pinning you down. His tongue split your folds and licked up to your clit, taking the pulsating nub in his mouth and sucking hard. He lavished you roughly with his mouth and when his fingers found your entrance, thrusting up into you, screamed his name. 

“Fuucck, Jensen! Shit…!!” Panting, short hot breaths, your hands went to his head, gripping his wet hair on each side and holding on for dear life. “Fuck… Jen--I’m gonna cum… pleeasseee… baby, let me cum…”

You could feel his lips snarl into a smile against your clit before he slowly lifted his head to meet your eyes. “Whatever you want.” He used his fingers to fuck you harder, then brought his tongue back through your folds. “Fuck you taste good,” he growled and drank you in. 

With one more thrust up into you, you could feel your release coating his hands and mouth, but he refused to back away. Your whole body was humming with intensity, every nerve ending on fire from the release he just brought you to. But Jensen didn’t stop, and with each passing second he continued to lick and suck on your most sensitive place, the more you began to squirm beneath him. 

“Jesus... Ok! Ok! I give... You got me squirming!” you cried out with a giggle, letting go of his head and bringing your hands to your own mouth, biting down on your fingers as he continued on. “Jensen… please… I can’t--”

He lifted his head for a second. “You can, and you will. I’m not done.” The tenor and command in his voice caused your head to roll back, and your body to relax again. You loved that most of all. Being his, meant doing what he said; taking your licks like a good girl, and never wanting to disappoint him. 

“But,” he continued, picking up his head, and taking your hands, pulling you up to sitting, “you’re cold and I’m starving.” He pulled you back into the pool and wrapped his arms around the small of your back. His hands cupped your ass then lifted you up, so you could wrap your legs around his waist. 

“But you just ate,” you teased coyly, and Jensen rolled his eyes. 

“Yeah well, that was an appetizer. Now I need real food. Then, later… once we get home I plan on taking you upstairs and finding all-new, better ways to make you squirm.” He raised one eyebrow, a gesture that could mean a number of things, but right then it was simply looking for your compliance. “Understand?” he asked with his eyes narrowed on you and dark with lust.

“Yes, Jensen,” you said softly, then ghosted his lips with yours. “But do you really wanna wait until later? I mean…” you reached down and slowly began to stroke him. “Doesn’t seem fair to make you wait.”

Jensen laughed and shook his head. “You’re a damn junkie.”

You shrugged one shoulder. “And who’s fault is that?”

His entire expression changed. In one quick movement, he had you back against the pool’s wall, his dick finding your entrance and thrusting up into you. Jensen buried his face between your breasts, grunting and cursing as he fucked into you again, and again. Picking up the pace with each thrust upwards, the friction again your overstimulated clit, still very much throbbing from his earlier tongue lashing, brought you to a second orgasm just as he spilled his release inside of you. 

“God DAMN,” he grunted, lifting his face from your cleavage, “What the fuck is it that you do to me?” His bottom lip hung agape, as he pushed a lock of wet hair behind your ear. He pulled your mouth to his and kissed you fiercely. 

“I don’t know,” you whispered between his kisses. 

When he finally pulled back, the earlier lustful need was replaced by something softer. “Well, whatever it is, I’m glad it’s mine.”

“Always…” you paused to smile, and just take in how he was looking at you under the light of the moon that hung low in the Texas sky. “Now, you said something about when we get home… where are we going?”

“Oh, that. Well when I landed, I called and made some dinner plans for us.”

“You wanna go out? I can cook something for you here,” you said, slightly nervous at the prospect of going out just the two of you. 

“No,” he replied, a soft smile finding its way to his lips. “I want to take you out. I want to show you off to the world--”

“Jensen…” 

“What?”

“Come on, that’s--that’s not a great idea. You have to know that,” you stammered, shaking your head in the disbelief he would even suggest it.

“You’ve lived here for two months, Y/N. This is our life. Sometimes it’s Danneel and I that will be going out and sometimes it’s all of us. Hell, you and her have your nights out. Why can’t we?”

“That’s different. People see us out together and just assume we’re close friends.”

“I couldn’t care less about what people think we are. I want to take my girlfriend out. So, let’s get out of the pool, dry off, get dressed and go eat.” The last word came out sharply, something Jensen did unknowingly when he was trying to make a point. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, returning the warm embrace he pulled you into and trying not to internally shudder at the thought of what could happen. 

An hour later, you were dressed in a simple yellow sundress that hung to mid-thigh, with thin straps, and a deep neckline, white wedge sandals and your hair pinned up off your neck. After one last check in the mirror, you headed down to the kitchen where you found Jensen waiting. He had changed into light blue jeans and a dark green cotton polo, his brown boots, and an FBBC baseball cap. The sight of him always sort of knocked you over and made you reflect on how gorgeous of a man he was, but that night he looked particularly good and you were mildly excited about going out now.

“Well damn,” he whistled when you walked into the room. “Maybe we’ll stay in after all.” You could feel his eyes lustfully wash over you. 

“Now who’s the junkie?” you teased and dropped your purse on the counter as you pulled out your cell. “I need a picture though, I promised Dee I would send her one. She misses you.”

“Well the feeling is mutual,” he smiled and came up from behind you as you raised the camera to take a picture of you together. 

After snapping a few pictures, you selected your favorite and texted it to Danneel. 

<<Wish you were here, beautiful. This man and I miss you something fierce.

“Hey, add me to that...” he pouted as he watched you craft the text over your shoulder. “I want the picture, too.”

You rested your head back on his shoulder and laughed. “Really?”

“Yes, really. Why do you find it so hard to believe that I want to have pictures of you? Or be seen in public with you? I thought we were passed all this.”

“We are… I just--” you shrugged, and went back to sending the text to Danneel, and to him. “Never mind. Come on, let’s go eat.”

“No, no,” he said, grabbing your wrist as you started walking away. “Not until I’m sure you get it. Tonight, you’re with me. We’re not going out as friends, and if people talk, fuck ‘em. I got nothing to hide.”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I trust you.”

“Good. Now, let’s eat. Got myself an appetite after that evening swim,” he winked and folded your hand into his.

 The Culinary Dropout restaurant in Austin had a table waiting for you and brought you promptly back to it upon arriving. Jensen pulled out the chair for you, then took the seat across from you and took off his cap, setting it aside. 

“Ever been here before?” he asked, picking up a menu and looking at the beer list. 

“No, not yet. Danneel and I tried a place last week that was great, but I can’t for the life of me remember the name.”

“Couldn’t have been that good then,” he chuckled.

“Well, she was being very distracting,” you shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, she has a habit of doing that, doesn’t she?”

“Boy, does she.”

You noticed Jensen lower his menu, and you did the same to meet his gaze. “So, this is all working, isn’t it?”

You snorted a laugh. “Our little modern-day family experiment?”

“That’s one way to say it, yeah. I mean, two months in and things are okay--better than okay. At least I think so.”

“I have no complaints,” you said softly, casting your eyes back down to your menu.

Jensen went to say something, but the phone buzzing from his pocket stopped him. He fished it out and looked at the notification, a wide smile across his face before turning the phone and showing it to you.

Two texts from Danneel: 

>>Kiddos and I miss you! [Attached a picture of Danneel and all three kids on the cruise ship]

>>Enjoy your time at home with Y/N, baby. You two need some quality alone time. Love you! xo

“I guess things really are good, huh?” he said tucking the phone away. 

“Too good,” you mumbled, half kidding, half nervous that you were just tempting fate. 

A few minutes later, the waitress arrived at your table, introduced herself with a polite smile and immediately admitted to knowing who Jensen was; big fan, and all that. Once she got the gushing over with, he happily signed a blank ticket for her, and she proceeded to take your orders. She left to put it in with the kitchen and that’s when Jensen reached across the table and took your hand. 

“You alright?” he asked, lightly rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb. “You look nervous.”

“I don’t want to be. But I guess I am a little. This is new for me, Jensen. Being so open about being with you. It’s been such a closely guarded secret for me, I think I just need to get used to it.”

“I know. That’s part of why I was insisted on coming out. It’s important to me that you be more a part of things.”

“What, things?”

“Everything. You’re already part of the home with Dee and the kids. I want you to be with me more. Come with me when I travel sometimes. Visit Vancouver, get to know my friends there.”

“You--really?” you breathed, knowing you shouldn’t be surprised, but still felt blindsided about being so exposed to his world. “Aren’t you scared of backlash? What we have here isn’t exactly conventional. I know you both say, fuck it, but, come on… no need to throw it everyone’s face.”

“That’s not why I want you with me, Y/N. I want you with me because I love you and I still feel like there’s so much I don’t know about you.”

“Hence Dee’s comment about quality alone time?” you teased. 

Jensen considered that for a moment and shrugged with his expression. “Yeah, pretty much. So, if you’re done being all skeptical, can you please relax and enjoy this?”

“Yes, Jensen,” you replied sweetly and squeezed his hand. You were on the verge of asking him some innocuous get-to-know-you kind of question when fate took its queue and walked over in the form of a fan.

“Um, excuse me, Jensen! Hi! I’m so, so sorry to interrupt your guy’s dinner, but I am a huge fan, and I was wondering if I could take a quick picture with you!?”

Jensen smiled up at her, and you slowly retracted your hand from him, but not before his fan noticed and then looked at you. You watched as the realization dawned on her face that you were not, in fact, Danneel. The woman’s expression went through several stages of understanding before she turned back to Jensen, with an awkward smile. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude…” 

“You’re not, darlin’, I’m happy to take a picture. Got your camera?”

She pulled it from her back pocket and opened the camera app, but you could feel the side-eyed glances she was throwing your way. 

“Want me to take it for you?” you offered.

“S-Sure, thanks,” she replied hesitantly and handed you the phone. 

You took a few pictures, making sure she ended up with a few good ones. She thanked him again, threw you one more suspicious glance and quickly walked away as if she had just stolen something and needed a quick getaway.

When she was gone, the waitress came back with your drinks and the appetizer Jensen ordered. Alone again, you looked to him as he sipped on his pint of beer. When he saw the bewilderment on your face, he chuckled.

“Something wrong?”

“Did you notice how she looked at me?”

He shook his head. “No, how?”

“Suspiciously. The second she realized I wasn’t Danneel, her whole demeanor changed. You seriously didn’t notice?”

“No,” he said. “I didn’t. Because--”

“I know, you don’t care. You and Dee have made that abundantly clear,” you laughed and sipped at your glass of wine. “I just don’t want to see anything you’ve worked so hard to create, fall apart because of a lifestyle choice you made.”

“If a lifestyle choice brings down my career, I didn’t have a very solid one, to begin with.”

You gave him a ‘really’ look and rolled your eyes. “Fine. I will lay off and just enjoy the night out. I am pretty hungry and that looks amazing…” you said, pointing at the plate in front of you. 

 Once the meals were finished, Jensen escorted you from the restaurant and as you casually strolled down the sidewalk hand in hand, you could feel that passersby were watching you. Jensen must have felt it too, because he picked up the pace a little and ushered you towards the car, opening your door for you, allowing you to quickly slipped inside. 

Just as he joined you and started the engine, the small group of photographers that had been behind you, pointed their cameras at the car and began clicking away.

“You were saying?” you mumbled then passed him a look of ‘I told you so’.

“So they took pictures, so what? Here, I’ll give ‘em something to focus on,” he smirked, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, kissing you with a heated purpose. Immediately parting your lips with his tongue and caressing your cheek with his hand. When he finally pulled back, you were light-headed and swimming in the feeling of the wine and his lips. 

“Can we go home now, please?” you pleaded softly, placing your hand on his knee and sliding it up to his thigh. “It’s so much nicer there. Quiet, private… no need for clothes…”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Jensen shrugged, put the car in gear and sped off past the small hoard and off towards home.

  By the time coffee was ready the next morning, the pictures were already circulating online. It didn’t take more than a few hours for them to make the tabloid rounds, hitting TMZ and other similar sites by sunrise the following day. The captions varied from ‘SUPERNATURAL’ Star Jensen Ackles Caught Cheating! To Jensen Ackles Caught With an Escort! Some were worse than others, but all of them together felt overwhelming and caused a deep worry about how life would be from that point on.

“We need to warn Danneel,” you said as Jensen passed you a cup of coffee with a rather dismissive gaze making you question what he was thinking. “What? You don’t think she deserves to know? On a trip with the kids… anyone could approach her, and say--”

“She knows,” he said calmly, as he sipped at his own mug. “I called her last night after you fell asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Is she alright? I mean… some of those articles were brutal. Hell, are you okay?”

Jensen placed down his mug and gently took your cheeks between his hands. “I’m fine, Y/N. Dee is fine. Let them say whatever they want, okay?” He left his fingers to glide from your cheeks, down your neck on either side and out to your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I promise we’ll handle it. For now, though, let’s just enjoy a few days of alone time before everyone’s home then I have to leave. Can you do that with me?”

You felt your nerves calm a little and nodded. “Yes, Jensen. I can do that for you.”

“Good girl,” he hummed, narrowing his eyes in contemplation. “I got an idea. Why don’t we have a lazy day in? We’ll make a bunch of food, watch a whole lot of movies. Just stay in and lay low. Sound good?”

“Music to my ears,” you said, a wide smile of relief accompanying your reply. “As long as I stay in my pajamas all day.”

“I’d prefer if you were in nothing, but that’ll do,” he said and nodded towards your current choice of a tank top and boy shorts. 

“Do you ever not think about sex?”

“Who said anything about sex? I’m not allowed to appreciate something this beautiful when I see it?” he asked, allowing his eyes to slowly linger along the curves of your body, as his tongue absently darted out over his bottom lip. 

You shook your head, climbed off the kitchen stool and picked up your mug as you strolled towards the family room. “Come on, I have a few ideas of what we can watch. Then maybe you’ll get me how you want me in the end.”

For the rest of the day, neither you nor Jensen picked up your phones solely in an effort to avoid the never-ending stream of notifications. By the time evening rolled around, you had gone through two of the movies from the Conjuring Universe, one old western, and half of Pulp Fiction before you and Jensen had fallen asleep on the couch. 

Over the next two days, you enjoyed the quiet time you had with him and having the entire house to yourselves while you did. By the end of the week, the rest of the family returned home from a leisurely vacation through New England and Eastern Canada. The kids went on and on about their adventures while you and Jensen listened as they talked over each other excitedly. They exhausted themselves just from the recap and all easily went off to bed. You offered to get them all ready and tucked in, so Jensen and Danneel could have some time to themselves to reconnect with each other after an extended absence. 

A few hours later, you were seated out on the porch, with a book open on your lap as you sipped on a glass of wine. The air was surprisingly cold despite the consistent, overwhelming heat during the days. That night there was a breeze coming in off the water that was strong enough to delicately lift a few strands of hair every now and again, as you read half-heartedly, not really seeing the words on the page.

The sound of someone stepping into the room brought your attention away from the book. Jensen was in his boxer briefs and black V-neck t-shirt, his hair soft and wildly unkempt. He wore a half-smile, but his eyes were tired and something in his expression looked as if he was deeply contemplative. He found his way to the lounge where you were sitting and took the book from your hand. Gently, Jensen placed it on the floor without a word, he laid down beside you and placed his head in your lap. 

You wanted to ask him what was wrong, but Jensen had never been the type to shy away from a conversation, or need to be begged to talk. He was quiet for a reason, and you wanted to be the soft place he could fall when he needed time to reflect on whatever was mulling around in his head. Slowly, you raked your fingers through his hair, lightly dragging your nails down his neck towards his shoulder, then back up through. He closed his eyes and hummed lightly with each pass along his neck. He turned his head around to look up, his half-smile growing into a genuine, thoughtful one. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he rasped, then turned his head back and wrapped an arm around your legs. You thought you felt him tighten his grip, ever so slightly, but a moment later when Danneel came into the room, he let go completely and sat up.

“Hey,” she smiled, and walked to the lounge, bending to kiss your cheek softly. “How’s the book?” she asked and motioned towards the book on the floor. “Enjoying it?”

“Yeah, it’s great. I’m nearly done.”

“The end is just so, so good. You have to let me know when you finish.” She was making small talk, and though you were just going with the flow, it felt forced and awkward. Coupled with how Jensen came into the room, you had a feeling that things were about to drastically change.

“Ok, so what’s going on with you two? You’re both being weird.”

You watched as they exchanged an uncomfortable glance. Jensen’s brow furrowed slightly when his silent question went unanswered by her and cast his eyes to the ground as he leaned back on the small lounge, resting his arm along the back.

“We’re fine, honey. Promise. Just… I have news. I should have told you two, together, but I told Jensen first. I’m sorry, I hope you’re not upset.”

“No, why would I be? He’s your husband, of course, he should know things first.”

“He’s ours,” she said and winked, but let her expression fall when she saw how unamused Jensen was. “Ok, good. I’m glad you’re so understanding… it makes the next part a bit easier.”

“Well now you’re scaring me a little,” you chuckled nervously, and drew your knees up under your butt, and leaned back. You felt Jensen’s fingertips brush against your shoulder and felt comforted by his touch.

“Sorry, it’s nothing bad. It’s actually pretty amazing news. I got offered a part in a feature film!”

“What?! That’s awesome! I’m so happy for you!” you replied excitedly, a wave of relief washing over you. Of all the things you thought she could possibly say, landing a role in a film was the furthest from your mind. “What’s the movie? Where do you have to go? When?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard all this. I’m going to bed,” Jensen said abruptly and stood up. “You ladies talk, I need some shut-eye.” He turned and left then. No kiss goodnight, not even a glance in either of your directions. With the way he left, you were fairly certain he wouldn’t be sharing the big bed tonight; chances were better, that later you’d find him curled up in the guest room.

Once he had disappeared back inside, Danneel took over his seat, slumping down with a sigh. “He’s mad at me for leaving.” She was matter-of-fact about it, which was not her usual reaction to any sort of disagreement with Jensen. They were by no means a perfect couple, and in all the time you’d known them, they’ve had their fair share of arguments. This felt… different. 

Shit, not again… you thought and tried to steel yourself for what else was to come.

“What’s the big deal? You’ve gone off to work since the kids have been born.”

“It’s not that…”

“Then what? Where do you have to go?”

“Greece. For three months,” she replied, the excitement in her voice bleeding through in the simple response.

“That’s incredible! So, what’s the problem? That you’re half a world away for three months?”

“Partially,” she breathed and shrugged. “I couldn’t get much more out of him. He’s pissed and he’ll talk to me about it eventually I suppose.”

“But, why?” There was something she was holding back, you knew her well enough that you could feel it radiating off of her.

“Maybe because it's like you said… three months in Greece, I can’t take the kids, he hates the director--”

“What? Come on...” you laughed, dismissing her fears with a wave of your hand. “Jensen doesn’t hate anyone.”

“Oh, he hates Maurice. Mostly because I used to sleep with him, and he’s way older.”

“Seriously? Come on, Dee. Jensen doesn’t care about some guy you slept with a million years ago.”

She seemed reflective for a moment, her honey-brown eyes lost somewhere in memory. When she came back to the present, a cool, steely gaze was living in the lines of her expression.

“How was he while we were gone?”

“Other than missing everyone, he seemed fine. Why?”

“No reason,” she scoffed, but then raised and dropped her brows quickly in annoyance. 

You also noticed the slight roll of her eyes, which bothered you as well. For the first time since being with them and witnessing a disturbance in the usual domestic bliss, you felt yourself take sides… and it wasn’t hers.

“Who knows with him, really. He’s been different with me lately. Maybe it’s just work or the stress of the last season. I don’t know,” she said and leaned her head on your shoulder and hooked her arm through yours. “Nothing we’ll figure out tonight though. I’m beat. Can we talk about the details of the job in the morning? I’m really going to need your help if I’m going to make this job work.”

“Sure, whatever you want,” you replied, though really, you wanted to throw a million questions at her, including how she felt about the exposure of their unique family dynamic. Instead, you stayed quiet for the time being and rolled with the punches.

“You’re the best, you know that?” Danneel leaned in and kissed your cheek. Keeping her hand on yours, she stood from the lounge and tried to pull you up with her. “I am absolutely exhausted and am ready to go crash. Care to join me?” 

“Yeah, but you go ahead. I’ll be along in a minute,” you replied with a sweet smile that faded quickly once she was out of sight. Feeling like there was another shift coming, you took a moment to take a few deep breaths, retrieve the book off the floor and slowly stand from the lounge. There was something off in both her and Jensen and your mind began to go crazy wondering what was said between them. 

Later, when she was softly snoring, you were still awake, laying on your back and staring at the ceiling. The bed felt empty without Jensen in it, and you couldn’t stop thinking about how Danneel reacted when you said Jensen had been fine while she was gone. There was always that nagging concern in the back of your mind that this family you had joined would somehow crumble before it even began. It was just fear talking, something you knew, but still had a hard time letting go of. 

There was so much to discuss with both of them--both Danneel’s new job and the fallout from the reporters capturing you and Jensen together at the restaurant and subsequent rumors after--but at that moment, you couldn’t care less about any of it. Your thoughts were firmly on Jensen.

You got up from the bed, threw on your light cotton robe, and tip-toed through the house, systematically checking on the kids fast asleep in their beds as you went. Upon reaching the guest room door, you thought you could hear the ambient lull of the television; the glow under the door confirming your suspicion. Quietly, you opened the door and expected to find him passed out, remote in hand. To your surprise, Jensen was sitting up, watching golf with heavy lids and fighting to stay awake.

“Hey,” he mumbled, sitting up a little straighter as you came into the room. “You alright?”

“I’m fine. I came to check on you.”

A contented little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth before he flipped the covers back and patted the place beside him on the bed. You crawled in and curled up into him as he covered you back up and wrapped an arm around your shoulder. You snaked your arm around his chest and buried your face into his side, drawing in a long, deep breath of his scent. 

“I’m alright,” he said, but you were sure he was lying. “Just a long day.”

“That’s why you're here, and not in our bed, right?”

He didn’t speak, and you didn’t have to look up to know he was giving you a certain kind of look. 

“Thought you and Dee could use the time to talk, that’s all.”

“About her new job?”

“Among other things,” he replied, then pointed the remote at the television and turned off the tournament. 

“You didn’t have to shut it off.”

“I’d rather look at you then middle-aged men in ugly pants.”

You chuckled and slowly lifted the hem of his shirt, to leave a warm, longing kiss on his skin. “Can’t say that I hate that…” you purred, continuing to trail kisses down his abdomen, towards the top of his boxers. 

“Baby…” Jensen breathed and was clearly fighting the urge to forcibly move your head towards his rapidly growing erection. “You don’t have too…”

“Shhh. Close your eyes,” you whispered, slipping your fingers delicately between the waistband and his flesh. “Let me take care of you, Jensen. Let me help you sleep.”

Jensen didn’t say another word. Instead, he laced his fingers through your hair, grabbing a fistful to lift up your gaze, as the loose strands feel to frame your face and cast the impish smile you wore into the shadows. His intense, yet tired eyes bore into you, making you crave him even more. You held his stare but continued to work his boxers down far enough, for his dick to be free of restraint.

Trying to move your head to take him in, he held you up for a brief moment, then slowly released his grip. He watched you as you pressed your lips to the silky tip, already slick with anticipation, and then ran your tongue down his shaft. Having him watch you as you licked, sucked and worked his cock over was an instant turn on. Knowing you had that kind of power over him--despite him being in charge when it came to acts such as this--made you wet and needy. The worst part was, Jensen knew it. 

Just before he was ready to cum, he pulled your head up and without saying a word, told you what he wanted from you. Sitting up, you untied the robe and tossed it aside; leaving yourself completely nude and ready for whatever he wanted. He pushed off the boxers the rest of the way but leaned back against the headboard and watched as you climbed onto his lap. He barely needed to touch you, much less run his hand up your slit, to feel how badly you wanted him. Positioning yourself over him, you were going to let him slide up and fill you slowly in an attempt to make him squirm. 

“Why do I fall apart the very second you touch me,” you breathed, already drunk on the idea of feeling him inside you. 

“Because, you like how I put you back together again,” he rasped in reply, his desire for you showing in his dark and lustful green eyes.

Jensen, being the impatient man he was, grabbed your hips and slammed you down onto him. Biting back the scream that wanted to erupt, you gripped his shoulders as his head bent into your breasts to muffle his own sounds. He didn’t last long, nor did you. Heavy breaths and needy whispers were exchanged closely, intimately until both of your bodies were shaking with pleasure. When it was finished, you laid down beside him and curled up into the crook of his shoulder. He murmured something unintelligible as his eyes flutter closed and you watched the man you loved finally fall asleep.

The talk Jensen wanted you to have with Danneel never did happen; nor did she ever bring up the incident with the reporters or articles. Instead, over coffee the following morning you talked with her about how things would be while she was gone; wanting to be sure you were okay with it all but never really diving into anything deeper. Jensen and Danneel never seemed to completely reconcile from whatever was spoken between them the night before, and when Jensen left for Vancouver again later that evening, their goodbye was strained and awkward. Despite how they left things, the three of you carried on for the next few weeks as if nothing had changed, when clearly so much already had.

Since the articles started to pop up, speculating about who you were and why Jensen was with you that night, you had lost the three new clients signed up in July. Your clientele continued to dwindle until there were only two regular clients left; one for personal training, and one for massage. Any time you tried to approach the topic with Danneel, she would wave you off, acting as if it was no big deal. She would mumble something about it all blowing over, but the idea began to weigh on you that SHE was the one waiting for it all to blow over so she could pretend it never happened. 

The day finally came for Danneel to leave, and everyone was quiet and rather sulky through her last day at the house. There was no big send-off, no big goodbye; which was just what she wanted. She said goodnight to the children on a Monday evening and was quietly gone by the time the sun rose on Tuesday. Jensen was home for the day after she left wanting to be there for the kids in case they started to miss their mom. His presence was enough to divert their attention away from her leaving, and onto more fun things until they were tucked in and sleeping. 

The real chaos of the household change didn’t come for another week. With both parents gone, the kids pushed their boundaries, and if not for the help of their nanny, Rita, you may have lost your mind. They missed their mom, missed their dad, and while they loved you, it just wasn’t the same. Fatigue was setting in along with the frustration of the day to day schedule for both them and the house, and you didn’t understand how Danneel did it all on a regular basis. 

It was a Friday, and Jensen thought he may be home the next day, depending on the filming schedule. Wanting to be sure to have some of his favorite things in the house, you left the children with Rita and headed out to Target with a list and a solid plan to get everything you wanted to get. By the time you drove the ten minutes across town and parked the car, you felt physically drained and slightly nauseous. Chalking it up to the relentless heat, you made your way through the store, gathering everything you wanted for both Jensen and the children, and maybe a few intimate items for yourself. You had missed him terribly and thought maybe some treats for the bedroom would make him happy upon his return the next day. 

As you were walking through the aisles, the slight bit of nausea bowled you over causing you to ditch the cart and run for the nearest bathroom. Once there, the remnants of lunch came up quickly, leaving you on the bathroom floor and reeling from the sudden burst of sickness. As you got up, flushed and made your way to the sinks, you tried to think what it could have been that sent you running for the bathroom. Lunch was a simple salad with grilled chicken, the breakfast was also very light and everyone seemed fine from it. 

You retrieved your cart and started making your way towards the cashiers, still trying to understand where the sudden burst of nausea came from. None of the kids had been sick, it couldn’t have been the food, maybe it was the heat… Then it hit you; the thought made you stop cold in the middle of the main walkway of the Target. You turned around and walked back a few paces, leaving the cart where it was, you turned and started looking through the aisles by the pharmacy. There, under the pharmacy’s window hung the pregnancy tests. 

Swallowing thickly, you picked up the first one you saw and the moment your fingers touched the box, you knew… Though he hadn’t been around too much in the last month, there was that night in the pool when he had surprised you by coming home early… and several more times over those few days where it was a free for all and no thought was given to any sort of protection. The wave of nausea struck again, but this time it was from the absolute certainty, that if you were to take that test you held in your hand, there would be two lines in the window, not just one.

You’re Mine Tags: @billionsofpeoplebutyoupickedme @pandaxo79 @deans-baby-momma @daskleinevolk @muchamusedaboutnothing @sandlee44 @sorenmarie87 @keymology @his-paradox @winchesterxfamilybusiness @karikatz12481 @81mysteriouslyme @lessons-of-red @destielhoneybee @tftumblin @stoneyggirl @innerpaperexpertcloud @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish @squirrel-moose-winchester @fictionalabyss @deanwinchesterswitch @jbbarnesgirl @the-is13 @ladywinchester1967 @whereismyangel-damnitdeanshare @maddiepants @pretty-fortune @breereadsthings @sasbb23

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[carryonmywaywardwriters]

Love How You Hate Me - Sam x Reader

A/N: Part Eleven is finally up. Again, I deeply apologize for the wait. I had a good reason, I promise. For now, though? Here we go... As always, feedback is incredible. If you want tagged, please send an ask or message so I am sure to see it. Same goes if I missed your tag. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Mostly Smut. Rushed, bathroom/public sex. A little reference to the movie Focus. Some feelings. Not enough editing. That’s all, I believe.

Word Count: Roughly 3,100

“Dance with me?” You looked up to a little old man. Even though his dark skin was wrinkled and worn, his eyes vibrated with life.

Alice and Bane were having a get together at their place. Something normies got to indulge in. You had gone to help set up. A simple enough task. However, before you could dip out? The guests had begun to arrive, and Alice had insisted you stay. You hadn't even known she knew that many people not involved in the life.

“Sure,” You got up to your feet slowly. Completely out of your element.

“Anyone ever teach you how to salsa?”

“No,” You answered honestly. More than a little weary.“You willin' to teach me?”

“I'd be honored.” His face lit up, making him look ten years younger.

Sam watched as your hand landed on the elderly man's shoulder, and the other on the crook of his elbow as his hands settled on your body. What is she doing? A few minutes later, he couldn't help the smile on his face as he peeked back up.

You were stumbling a little, moving to the beat of the music with a large smile as you worked with the man. A simple, peach colored skirt swung around your legs as you stepped where instructed. The white tank top would have been immodest if you hadn't paired it with a cream colored cardigan. Showing almost more than it covered.

The guy had been sitting by himself for the longest time, until he'd sought you out. Nothing but darkness coating his wrinkled face. Now? He looked as if you'd given him the most precious thing in the world. Helping him find his youth in the small crowd.

Over the past week, a careful distance had been kept between you and Sam. You kept looking at him as if you wanted to try and repair the damage, but never found the courage to make the first move. His pride was still stinging. However, it didn't keep him from being aware of you. Only, this time, it was more than just your body.

He'd zeroed in on everything he'd missed before. The way you chewed your lip when you concentrated. How although you had a mix of modern and classic literature, the classics came off the shelf most often. You didn't have a favorite musical genre. Instead, you listened to whatever suited your mood. A glow spread across your face whenever you saw Ava smile a gummy little grin up at you. More often than not, if you were out? You'd gone down a path that led to a smaller pond to take in the nature. How restless you seemed to be since you'd gotten out on the road again. The way you turned away from your own gloom to entertain an elderly man you'd never met...

“You're still thinking about her.” Cas's voice made Sam jerk lightly as he turned to the angel. “Sorry,” His gruff apology wasn't quite enough to take away the frown on the hunter's face, “didn't mean to startle you. Or listen in.” The last bit was added in as an afterthought.

“You can't help it,” Sam grumbled, turning his head back to the scene in front of him. Then the words sunk in. “What do you mean by 'still'?”

“Almost every time I'm by you? I pick up something about her.” Castiel shrugged lightly. Simply speaking matter of factly. “It's fascinating, really... how many different thoughts there are regarding one person.” That made Sam pause, and turn back to watch you trip over your own feet. Laughing all the while. “I was human for a short time, Sam... It allowed me a bit of insight,” The angel smiled a bit at how foolish you were on the floor. Missing some of the roughness both boys carried. “But, I never got to experience something as...” He paused for the right word, “intense as what you're experiencing.” Sam's hands shoved into his pockets. Despising the truth in the words. “I'm almost jealous.”

“Feel free to take her off of my hands.” Sam suggested readily. Wishing he could escape the flood.

“You don't mean that.” He wasn't as sure as Cas seemed to be over that claim. “Is she leaving with you two?”

“Dean wants to bring her.” Sam shrugged out. Trying to act indifferent. “Hasn't asked her, though.”

“If it helps, Sam,” Cas turned back to his friend. Blue eyes boring into the hazel. Making sure the earnest words sank home. “You're not the only one struggling.” His lips pulled up lightly, “She's thinking about you, too...”

–

Hands came out from the bathroom, yanking you towards a looming figure. Your fist came out instinctively, connecting with the perpetrator before you had processed that you knew those hands. As it clicked, you meekly looked up.

Only to find Sam's wry, pained grin aimed at you,“You have a heck of a swing.”

“You had that coming.” You shrugged, turning to see if anyone had seen you get snatched. When you were sure it was clear, you pushed Sam further in and shut the door. Ensuring that you wouldn't be found with the enemy. “What are you doing?”

“Take a guess,” His eyes trailed over your body. The golden brown in them shined through that day. Full of heat. That look alone had you squeezing your thighs together. The necklace from before was hidden in the swells of your breasts, making his gaze linger there. His nostrils flared lightly as he took in the exposed skin. “I've been dying to know what you have on the end of that chain.” Your hands came up to play with it in response. Unintentionally rising to the bait.

“I figured you were still mad over the word vomiting incident.” You stated, moving over to  the counter to sit. Noting the way he turned with you. Leaving no room between your bodies. He wasn't even trying and you were almost ready to rip your clothes off. “You haven't pulled any sick tricks, lately. Just ignored me.” You sat looking at him patiently. Waiting for an explanation.

At one time, you might have been relieved by his behavior. But, not anymore. The dynamic had shifted enough that the distance bothered you.

“Well,” He moved over to you, letting his hands settle on your knees, “there's two options in a situation like this.”

“I wasn't aware this is something you had experience in.” The teasing in your tone couldn't be denied. You leaned back, supporting your upper body on your hands. Making it easier to look him in the eyes.

“Oh, I don't... The internet, though? It has answers to everything.” He replied seriously. As if he hadn't pulled the answer from thin air.

“The more you know.” Sam tried to keep his face straight, but he broke at your tone as you played along. A small laugh revealed his dimples. The sight enough to melt away the rest of your worries. There'd been guilt, before. For all his rough edges, you hadn't intended on injuring his ego. “So, what are the options? Since you're clearly educated on the subject.” Your lips had turned up at the sound of his chuckle.

“Well, there's the easy one.” His hand started drifting higher. Thumb grazing along the bottom of your inner thigh- just under the hem of your skirt. “We let that be the end, and go onto other partners. Pretend it never happened.”

“And the second?” Your breath hitched lightly as his fingers tightened on the soft skin he'd found.

“We don't stop.” His other hand reached around your back, pulling your body closer to him. Stretching you out more along the counter as he settled in between your legs. His lips dipped down dangerously close to yours. “Keep going til we figure out just what you think is missing...”

“What's your vote?” You asked, bringing your hand between your bodies. Toying with his shirt. Chewing on your lip as you waited for a response. You didn't even care in that moment that your uncertainty had become his challenge to conquer. His hands moved up to your face. Cradling you as he kissed you hungrily. Not bothering to use words. You pulled away from his lips just long enough for one, husky word: “Agreed.”  

His mouth was back on yours in record time. Then trailing down your neck to the tops of your breasts. Kissing. Licking. Sucking. The occasionally bite mixed in. All marks were gone almost as soon as they appeared. But, you were past the point of caring. It felt too right to consider the consequences.

Your hands pulled open his red and blue plaid shirt. Desperate to get down to skin. Rounded nails scratched against the firm flesh. He tugged off your cardigan as his tongue tangled with yours. Nearly ripping the material in his haste. The two of you moved as if it had been years instead of days without touching.

“Please tell me that you're ready.” The husky tilt paired with his lack of breath went straight to your crotch. You just sent him a seductive smile while yanking open his belt. “Thank God.”

The soft material of your skirt was hiked with ease. Sam didn't slow down. Didn't wait for you to lift your hips. Instead, his fingers tore at the fragile lines of your panties. Making quick work of them.

Your own fingers were busy. Yanking at his button. Ripping his zipper down. Before his pants hit the ground, common sense prevailed.

“Condom?” There was no way you were giving up any method of birth control. Sex god, or not.

“Check my wallet.” Nothing. “Damn it.” He growled out, taking it from you to check himself before tossing it to the side. Another heavy, sexually frustrated curse leaving his lips. “Give me a second.” He started searching the medicine cabinet and drawers like a man possessed.

“Oh, this is so wrong,” You huffed out. Leaving all morals aside to hunt down a form of birth control in your friend's home. No luck. “Shit.” You were aroused. More than a little annoyed. A deadly combination to be sure. “Wait!”

“You are not leaving me here like this.” Sam ground out, seeing the wheels turn in your head.

“I'll be back in two seconds.” You promised. Crossing your fingers over your heart symbolically before adjusting your clothing back into semi-decent shape.

“Y/N-” You stopped him by pulling his head down to yours. Kissing the protest right out of him.

“I have more clothing on.” You managed to get out against his mouth. “I get caught? Less of a big deal.”

“Fine.” He said after a second of frustrated silence. Knowing it was that, or a longer wait. “You leave me like this, and I swear...” He trailed off, letting all kinds of disastrous images line your mind.

“While that sounds fun,” Your inner minx couldn't be contained. Cupping his erection in your hand, you continued. “I have much more...pressing issues.” Your thumb stroked over the bulge, making him practically hiss. A quick peck against his lip, and you were gone.

Sam's hand rubbed over his face as he waited. Awkward, now that he was on his own. Wondering if you really would be mischievous enough to ditch him- he knew you could be. Or if you needed him just as badly as he seemed to need you.

It had built throughout the day. Castiel's words only encouraging him further. Goading him until he'd planned on doing something about you that night.

Then, you'd walked by. Innocent fun was the only plan when he'd pulled you into the bathroom. Then, hormones ruled the moment he had you alone. A little foreplay to warm you up. Something that would make the night that much sweeter. That idea lasted until he'd touched you. Fucking the entire plan up.

He sat leaning against the counter with his shirt open. His belt and pants still undone, and a hard on for the ages pressed out angrily. A pair of destroyed peach, lace panties rested by his feet. His wallet was over on the other side of the room. If anyone else stumbled across him, he'd have a hell of a time explaining it. Luckily, you spared the Winchester.

“Got it,” Locking the door was first priority. Something that hadn't been thought of before.

“Where the hell-”

“Your brother is an easy target.” You pulled the wallet out of your top. Knowing right where the protection was stored. “Now...shut up and make use of this.” Dean's wallet was tossed over by Sam's. No longer worth your attention.

It took two steps for him to reach your side, and slam you into the door. His lips sealing over yours again. As the kiss deepened, his hands gripped your thighs. Silently demanding you jump. He didn't hesitate, pulling you up to his waist when you gave him what he needed.

You held on as he carried you. Not breaking contact with his mouth as he moved you back to the counter. Knocking over several toiletries in the process when he tossed you back onto the counter.

It was impossible to keep your hands off Sam. Your fingers got in the way, trying to help him lose the pants. Rolling the condom into a place.

A small squeeze of his erection led to a growl from the man above you. An answering bite to your lip drew a breathy moan from your lips as he moved your hands away. Your skirt was pushed back up. Fingers just barely ghosted over the wet folds as he lined up.

Sam's mouth swallowed your cry when he filled you with a snap of his hips. Your hands tangled themselves into his shirt and onto the base of his neck. Ankles locked around his back, digging your heels into his ass to help set the pace. Hard and fast.

Pulling away your lips, you turned them to his throat. Tasting his skin as he had yours earlier to draw a groan from him. Letting that muffle the sounds he was forcing from your throat.

His teeth held his lip as he moved, rolling his body into yours. Keeping himself as silent as possible. Not wanting to be caught anymore than you did. Wanting the moment to last.

You had no idea how long you two were locked together. Grasping. Thrusting. Whimpering at the rush. Every push and pull sending you closer to oblivion.

As you got close, your head fell back away from the taste of his damp flesh. Your teeth dug into your lower lip harshly, but it wasn't enough. Skin slapped harshly together, echoing through the small room. Then you heard it: voices.

Sam paused. Bringing his hand to your mouth, he covered it gently. Gauging your reaction to his action, as the sounds of your bodies meeting didn't lessen. You didn't complain, letting him protect the both of you two. Instead, you nodded your consent.

Neither of you stopped the push and pull you'd started. Not even when the voices were right outside. Rocking into each other all the while. Eyes locked, you held each other through it. Whoever it was didn't stay long.

You ground yourself against him as soon as they were gone, wanting him to speed back up. To send you over the edge. Needing it.

Luckily, Sam understood. Wanting the same thing, himself. His head buried into your shoulder. Bracing his free hand on the counter, he slammed into you. The once covered whimpers turned to cries as you clung to him. Your body clenched tight as you came, encouraging him to follow you. Thighs trembling all the while.

With every thrust, his rhythm grew more sloppy. Fighting to refrain. But, it was all too much. Sam's teeth sunk into your shoulder to keep his own shout from being heard when he came.

Breathing heavy, you pulled apart as soon as you were able. Almost shyly cleaning up and getting your clothes situated as best as you could. You helped fix his hair while he wiped off the smudged liner under your eyes.

Not much was said. Especially regarding the 'missing piece' that seemed to be standing like a brick wall between you two. That is, until Sam picked up the wallets.

“How'd you get this, anyway?” Dean's leather was waved as he looked at you.

“He was grabbing a beer, and talking to Bane in the kitchen.” You shrugged, slipping on your cardigan. ��I walked past, grabbed it out of his back pocket, shoved it in my bra, and got up here.”

“Without him noticing?” Sam didn't buy it. Dean was too good of a hunter to have missed that trick.

“There's a skill to it. You just touch directly while grabbing what you want.” It seemed too easy. “For example,” You touched his bicep while looking at your hand, and his eyes followed. “I touch you here.”

“Okay...” He trailed off in confusion.

“And, I pick this up.” You wagged the wallet that had been in his back pocket in his face. “Easy. Even if the other person hunts? Their attention is diverted.”

“You're nothing but trouble, aren't you?” He grinned, pulling the leather from your grasp. Shoving it into his pocket for the second time.

“All I had to do is tap his arm from behind. Say excuse me. Done.” You unlocked the door. “Take your time, will ya? I'm going to schmooze. Play innocent.” As you walked out, you stopped and looked back at the younger Winchester. Eyes still full of fire, “Oh, and Sam...My door won't be locked, tonight...” You winked when his nostrils flared in response before leaving him alone to over think.

When he finally walked out, he was sure you two had gotten away with it. Another item kicked off of his bucket list. As far as he was concerned, he could die happy.

“How long?” Dean's voice made Sam turn around quickly, towards the other end of the hallway. His brother leaned against the wall. Shadowed, still. Maybe I spoke to soon...

“What?” He tried playing innocent. Shouldn't have bothered. It only made the older Winchester's glower deepen.

“How long have you and Y/N been sneaking around?” Well, shit...

Part Twelve

Tag: @burningmusicmachine​ @missmarrinette​ @sherlockedtash88​ @rathersuspiciousbumblebee​ @sasbb23​ @nothinbuttrouble2​ @baby-bunker-pie​ @neii3n​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​ @malfoysqueen14 @calaofnoldor @hhiggs

Forever: @dean-winchesters-bacon​ @supernaturalginger​

[profoundnet]

Header by @cryptomoon​ and is available on merch from her redbubble store. You can use all those fancy emojis (and more!) on our Discord server!

The Masterpost is open for all creations by ProfoundBond members which are posted in their entirety during that month.

MEMBER CONTRIBUTIONS FOR FEBRUARY AND MARCH 2020!

Featuring works by ArielAquariel, @saywhatjessie, @castielslostwings, @maleyah-givemetomorrow, @spnsmile, @banshee1013, @leafzelindor, and  wolf_mistress17.

Masterpost below the cut.

ArielAquarial - ArielAquariel

Out of the box (G, 10k)

Dean can’t complain about his life so far. He spent years beside a great kid with an amazing imagination. He and Ben had been through a lot in the short time he’d acted as his favorite toy, but all good things must come to an end. It was only a matter of time until Dean found himself in the trash, or if he was lucky, a yard sale. What he hadn’t considered was ending up in the attic with only Christmas decorations for company. Or, the one where Dean is an action figure, Cas is a tree topper, and Charlie is an elf with WAY too much time on her hands.

Tags: Charlie Bradbury Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Christmas Decorations, Fluff, First Kiss, Size Difference, Alternate Universe, Nosy Charlie Bradbury

The next best thing (T, 6k)

Sam had told Dean that California was different. More liberal, he said. You could walk down the street in a frilly pink dress and no one would bat an eye. Well, Dean wasn’t very interested in wearing a dress, but holding hands with a man without having to be nervous about it? That, he could get behind. Or... When Dean moved to California, he never expected to stumble upon a man publicly glaring daggers at a dildo. Especially when said neon pink dildo was suctioned to his car door.

Tags: dog sitting, Meet-Cute, Alternate Universe, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Fluff, Sex Toys

JessJesstheBest - @saywhatjessie - JessJesstheBest

Aromatic Adjectives Need Not Apply (G, 4.3k)

Castiel was an Alpha, despite what everyone always guessed upon meeting him. He was tall, and he had the stern and imposing profile, but, to most people, those Alpha traits were where it ended. He had a lithe, runner’s frame, with trim waist and thick thighs. “Child-bearing hips” he’d been told. Though, obviously, no children would be born of him. This scuffling man, though. He was... round. Potentially child-bearing. And Castiel was sure his true mate wasn’t either of the other two men. Or Castiel is an Alpha that doesn't believe in true mates but sniffs one out anyway.

Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, College AU, Alpha/Alpha, Scenting, Chubby Dean Winchester, DeanCas Reverse Bang 2020

castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings

Deserted (E, 61k)

"This was a mistake, Castiel thinks, almost laughably. Lightning does strike twice." Six years after their plane crashed, stranding Castiel and Dean injured and alone in the unforgiving Alaskan wilderness, life is pretty damn good. Married and more in love than ever, they've settled into their shared life together with few bumps along the way and no intention of ever ending up in a situation like that again. That is, until Sam shows up for a visit and turns everything they thought they knew about where they're going and where they've been upside down. Somehow, Sam manages to suck Dean and Castiel into flying to Hawaii to help him untangle a twisted, murderous web where tourists are disappearing and hacking for evidence just won't cut it. What will happen when a would-be heroic Team Free Will gets in over their heads, stranding Dean and Castiel in a brand-new kind of wilderness and leaving Sam to once again follow a breadcrumb trail to ensure they survive?

The Sequel to Wild

Tags: Wilderness survival, hurt/comfort, established relationship, no Destiel angst, case fic, beaches, Hawaii, deserted island, Survivalist Dean, Brave Castiel. Accompanied by art by @winchester-reload.

Enchanted Ink (E, 36k)

In a world where an artist's magic brings tattoos to life, ink-gone-wrong can spell lasting heartache for those unlucky enough to experience it. Jaded and cynical on both life and love, Castiel's about to find out that even the most deeply-etched scars can be transformed into something beautiful when the right person is holding the pen.

Tags: Magical realism, getting together, emotional hurt/comfort, tattoo artists Dean and Cas, magical tattoos, self-acceptance, secret author dean, domestic fluff, top cas/bottom dean.

Maleyah - @maleyah-givemetomorrow - Maleyah

Where Our Soul And Grace Meet (E, 5.3k)

“Still,” Dean says, as he leans in, “I believe I asked you a question?” Castiel hears that voice dip into another part of him. Something smooth and warm trickles down his spine. A churning, familiar feeling swirls in the pit of his being. “Restless,” Castiel whispers, responsive to that tone and all it implies. “So restless I don’t know what to do with myself. Perhaps you do?”

Tags: human!Cas, s9 divergence, Fluff, Established Relationship, Soft sub!Cas, Soft Dom!Dean, Bondage, Spanking, Light Dom/sub

Hot Wings and Magic Hands (E, 50k)

The one where Dean is a burnt-out surgeon, who has some minor self-esteem issues about it and Castiel is a gym instructor who helps him out of his rut. But it’s all just professional, right? (Real time Valentine's Day fic)

Tags: Valentine's Day fic, Surgeon!Dean, Yoga instructor!Cas, Idiots to Lovers, Burned out Dean, Sauna, Misunderstandings, Slow burn, Mild Angst, Fanart

Where Your Light Meets My Shadow (E, 3.3k)

“Cas, honey, come here. Sit between my legs.” The request jolts them both out of their reverie. Cas’ eyes widen as he licks his lips, but his response is immediate. He moves like water, fluid, beautiful, aglow, when he crawls onto the bed towards Dean. There is a touch of deep concentration to the way his brow furrows that’s so innately Cas. It seems to lay him bare and his heart thuds louder in his chest as Cas’ shadow falls over his legs.

Tags: human!Cas, s9 divergence, SPN Kink Bingo, Deepthroating, Established Relationship, Soft sub!Cas, Soft Dom!Dean, Light Dom/sub, 69 (Sex Position)

spnsmile - @spnsmile - spnsmile

Gambler’s Woe (G, 6.9k)

Coda to 15x11 (The Gamblers) Sam lost the game, Fortuna wins. Dean calls Castiel to say goodbye. They didn't get kicked. They returned to the Bunker. Except Cas still hears the message and goes to tackle Dean. It's a lucky night. The idiots find what they don't want to lose anymore.

Tags: General audience, M/M, hurt/ comfort, idiots in love, angst

Banshee1013 - @banshee1013 - Banshee1013

Ten Inch Hunter (E, 17k)

After returning from Purgatory the second time, Castiel and Dean were just beginning to explore the new direction of their relationship, when on a case involving missing hunters, Dean is struck by a witch's curse and turned into a ten-inch plastic figurine. Can Sam find a way to revert the effects of the curse and return Dean to himself before the tiny spark of life Cas detects in him fades away? Or will Cas lose Dean just as their relationship has begun? Written for the 2020 Dean Cas Reverse Bang.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Canon Compliant, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt Dean Winchester, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Minor Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Witch Curses

LeafZelindor - @leafzelindor

Dean’s Wings (SFW)

DeanCas Reverse bang piece

Tags: wings. Accompanied by fic by @quillsandink-writes.

Fading (SFW)

DeanCas Reverse bang piece

Tags: hurt/comfort. Accompanied by fic by Aapicula.

wolf_mistress17 - wolf_mistress17

Let Me Show You (E, 9.2k)

After their return from Alaska, Dean comes up with a great idea: teach Castiel how to play pool.

Tags: Love confessions, first kiss, first time, explicit sexual content, Season 15 code for 15x11 The Gamblers, playing pool/billiards, fluff and smut

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.20

Series Masterlist

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

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Smut. Unprotected sex.

Bamby

You’d caved. Sam’s challenge had gotten to you, and now there was no way you were sitting this case out.

“Dean, all morning you’ve tried to get me to stay in the motel room, and the whole drive here you’ve been begging me to stay in the car.” You looked over your shoulder at him as Sam climbed the chain link fence surrounding the asylum. “I’m not sitting on the bench this time.”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he argued, huffing as he stepped in front of you.

“And I don’t want my life and choices slipping through my hands. I’m doing this, and that’s final.”

Turning your back on him, you reached for the fence and started up. Both brothers were there, moving to assist you, but as you reached the top and straddled the fence, you rolled your eyes at them. They were so concerned about you getting hurt, it might’ve been cute if it wasn’t so annoying.

Flipping your leg over to the other side, you got a good grip and started to climb down until it was safe enough to let go. Jumping down, you surprised the boys by landing on your two feet safely.

Dusting your hands on your jeans, you gave them each a nod. “I got this.”

Climbing the fence, it was Dean’s turn to surprise you as he flipped himself over the top and landed on his own two feet right in front of you. It was… it was hot.

Standing up straight, looking down at you with his lips pulled up into a smirk, he gave a short nod. “Okay… let’s do this.”

...

As you entered the asylum, Sam started to explain what the cop had told him, “So apparently the cops chased the kids here.” He gestured to a sign over one of the doors. “Into the south wing.”

“South wing, huh? Wait a second.” Reaching into his jacket, Dean pulled out John’s journal. After flipping through a few pages, he found what he was looking for. “1972. Three kids broke into the south wing, only one survived. Way he tells it, one of his friends went nuts and started lighting up the place.”

“So whatever's going on, the south wing is the heart of it,” Sam noted.

“But if the kids are spelunking the asylum, why aren't there a ton more deaths?” Dean had a good point.

Stepping up to the south wing door, you kicked at some chains on the ground. “Looks like it use to be chained up.”

“Could’ve been closed off for years,” Sam added, stepping beside you.

“Yeah, to keep people out… or to keep something in?”

Dean’s question had you and Sam turned to him, an uneasy feeling settling in your stomach.

“Still wanna join in on the case?” Dean asked you, the same challenging tone in his voice that had been in Sam’s the other night.

Standing up straighter, you gave a firm nod. “Yep.”

...

Walking through the halls of the south wing, you couldn’t ignore the eerie feeling you got from the place. You were usually fine dealing with ghosts, but considering you were still a little shaky from the shapeshifter case, you weren’t one hundred perfect confident. The fact you had to work in an asylum made it all a little worse.

Asylums tend to have bad energies, especially the old ones. The older they were, the worse the people were treated. Sure, this one wasn’t too old… but you could tell that some serious shit had gone down behind these walls.

“Let me know if you see any dead people, Haley Joel.” Dean grinned at his little joke.

Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. “Dude, enough.”

“I'm serious. You gotta be careful, all right? Ghosts are attracted to that whole ESP thing you got going on.”

“I told you, it's not ESP!” Sam snapped. He was really getting sick and tired of Dean pestering him about whatever was going on with him. “I just have strange vibes sometimes. Weird dreams.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Shaking his head, Dean numbled, “Don't ask, don't tell.”

“You get any reading on that thing or not?” Sam asked, gesturing to the EVP in Dean’s hand.

“Nope. Of course, it doesn't mean no one's home.”

“Spirits can't appear during certain hours of the day,” Sam suggested.

“Yeah, the freaks come out at night.”

“Yeah.”

You got the feeling Dean was going beg you to stay back when the brothers inevitably returned at night. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if he got down on his knees and literally begged. Hell, you wouldn’t even put it past him to tie you to the motel bed.

Fortunately for you, Sam wouldn’t allow that. He wanted you to have the freedom you wanted, so he would keep his brother from locking you down. In the long run, however, you weren’t sure if that was such a good thing.

“Hey Sam,” Dean spun on his heels to face his brother then, “who do you think is the hotter psychic? Patricia Arquette, Jennifer Love Hewitt, or you?”

Sam didn’t bother with a verbal response, choosing to punch his brother in the shoulder instead.

Laughing, Dean continued down the hall with a little pep in his step.

...

Entering another room, you shuddered at the sight of all the medical equipment. All the leftover and rusting tools, jars full of liquids you really didn’t want identified. It all had that horror movie vibe to it… the longer you stuck around, the better the motel room was looking.

But you weren’t going to chicken out now. You had to prove to yourself and the Winchesters that you could do this. You could control your life… you didn’t need them saving you all the time.

Dean whistled as he moved about the room. “Man. Electro-shock. Lobotomies. They did some twisted stuff to these people.” He turned to grin at you and Sam. “Kinda like my man Jack in Cuckoo's Nest.”

Rolling your eyes, you moved further into the room, stepping up to the dusty and rusty medical bed. You felt Sam come up behind you and rest his hand on your hip where Dean couldn’t see it.

“You okay?” he asked, voice low and genuinely concerned.

Now… you weren’t a freak. You were not getting turned on by the medical equipment, or the danger… but having Sam nearby? Suddenly you felt a little flush. You could feel his fingers slipping under your shirt ever so slightly, and the first brush of skin on skin made you gasp and lean back into him.

His grip on your hip tightened as your back pressed against his chest. “Y/N?” While his voice was still low, the concern had given way to something a little more husky.

“So, what do ya think?” Dean asked from the other side of the room. With his back facing the two of you, he didn’t see Sam jump away from you. “Ghosts possessing people?”

Clearing his throat, Sam shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe it's more like Amityville, or the Smurl haunting.”

“Spirits driving them insane. Kinda like my man Jack in The Shining.” Dean grinned again, turning to you and Sam then.

Sam scoffed. “Dean… when are we going to talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“About the fact Dad's not here.”

At the mention of John, you pulled away and turned around, not wanting to face the conversation. Not wanting to hear it, either. If you weren’t so concerned about being possessed by some psychotic ghosts, you would’ve walked away. Unfortunately you couldn’t, which meant you had to stick around and listen to them.

“Oh. I see. How ’bout… never,” Dean answered, side stepping his brother and moving towards you. Wrapping an arm around your waist, he leaned in to kiss your shoulder, knowing how the conversation was bound to make you feel.

“I'm being serious, man. He sent us here-”

Dean spun around and cut Sam off, “So am I, Sam. Look, he sent us here, he obviously wants us here. We'll pick up the search later.”

“It doesn't matter what he wants,” Sam argued.

“See? That attitude? Right there? That is why I always get the extra cookie.” You could feel Dean’s grin as he leaned in one more time to press another kiss to your shoulder.

You glanced over at Sam and saw him glaring at his brother. “Dad could be in trouble, we should be looking for him. We deserve some answers, Dean. I mean, this is our family we're talking about.”

“I understand that, Sam, but he's given us an order.”

“So what, we gotta always follow Dad's orders?”

“Of course we do.”

“Because he’s Pack Alpha?”

“Because he’s our dad!” Dean snapped.

“I’ve had enough.” Shrugging away from Dean, you stormed out of the room, not caring if you were going to get possessed by some evil spirits. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with the brothers bickering so much.

Storming through the building, you were glad you didn’t bump into any spirits as you pushed through the front doors. As soon as the fresh air hit your face, you looked up at the blue sky and took in a deep calming breath.

“Y/N!”

“Great,” you groaned, walking down the steps of the building. “Here we go.”

When Sam jogged out of the building, he was surprisingly alone.

Spotting you at the bottom of the few steps, standing with your arms crossed over your chest, he let out a relieved breath. “I know I said you’re strong, but you shouldn’t walk off by yourself in a haunted asylum.”

“Made it out alive, didn’t I?” you countered, raising a pointed eyebrow at him.

Huffing, he walked down the steps to stand in front of you. “I’m not trying to control you, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Funny, because you don’t want me to get hurt yet you bitch about your dad right in front of me knowing how it’s gonna make me feel.”

“That’s not me trying to hurt you. That’s me trying to get Dean to see things my way. To agree that we need to stop doing crap like this and start going out there actively looking for Dad.”

“Stop trying, Sam! Dean isn’t going to listen! John is pack Alpha, he gives the orders, Dean follows them. And now that he’s the oldest Alpha, he’s got superiority over you. So suck it up, because you’re not gonna get your way. He’s doing the job, I suggest you learn to do the same.”

“And what if I can’t? What if I can’t listen to his orders? Or Dad’s? What if I can’t stand back and give them all the control?”

“I don’t know Sam, but that’s how things run around here. It’s how they’ve always run. You didn’t like it before and you left, so what’s different now?”

Glaring down at you, hating that he had been dragged into this position, he snapped. “What’s different is that my dad is out there, possibly in danger, and we’re doing nothing about it! What’s different is that I’ve had a taste of control, and I don’t want to give it up again! What’s different is I can’t get your scent out of my goddamn head, and there’s no fucking way I’m leaving you again!”

You fell silent, staring up at him with wide eyes.

“I could walk away right now if I knew you’d come with me. I could take you away from Dean, and Dad, and all this hunting bullshit. I could do it. Neither of us deserve this life. We deserve better. I had that, I can get it back… and I can give it to you.”

Heart racing, you felt temptation start to blossom in your chest. The idea of running away, of leaving all the harshness of this life and trading it in for... for an Alpha, and pups, and a white picket fence… it was tempting, but it wasn’t you.

“I’m not that girl, Sam… I’m not Jess. I don’t want the nine-to-five job, and the two-point-five kids, and the mortgage, and the neighbourhood barbeques… that dream was taken away from me before I even knew that world existed. I’m a hunter, even if I spend most of my time on the bench. I’m not wife material, I’m not mother material, I’m not… I’m not even mate material.”

He shook his head, stepping closer to you. “Don’t say that.”

You gave a harsh laugh. “If I was worth more, I’d have a mark on my neck, but I don’t, and that’s okay. I know where I stand, and I know it’ll never change because I know the chances of finding John and getting permission to finally be claimed… I know the chances are slim. So don’t hold back because of me, Sam. I’m not worth it.” Turning on your heels, you walked away.

...

Dean and Sam walked into the motel room while you were lying on one of the beds. You’d decided to stay back and try to do some research while Sam went and talked to the old psychiatrist’s son- who happened to be a psych now, too.

As they entered the room, your eyes caught Sam’s, but quickly averted. After the talk you had with him… you needed some distance. Things were getting too muddled, too confusing.

The feelings you’d had for him years ago had been buried under the belief that he’d left you behind along with his dad and Dean, but according to Sam… that wasn’t exactly the case. According to him, he would have taken you with him if you’d agreed. He wanted to take you, wanted to be with you.

It made things… awkward, because now you weren’t sure if things were as black and white as you’d thought. It made you question how far the ‘friend’ part of your relationship stretched, and whether or not he wanted something else. Hell, it made you question what you wanted.

“What’d the doc say?” you asked, looking back down at the book in front of you.

“Tell you in the shower. Come on.” Dean stretched his hand out for you.

Looking up, you watched his hand for a moment, hesitating, and then you took a deep breath and let him help you from the bed. Entering the bathroom behind Dean, you caught Sam’s gaze in the mirror as the door closed.

Once alone, Dean let your hand go and reached over to turn the shower on. Testing the pressure and temperature, he made sure it was okay before pulling back and tugging his shirt off.

“There was a riot back at the asylum,” Dean explained as he turned to you and reached out to start unbuttoning you jeans. “The south wing is where they held the criminally insane psychos.”

As he spoke and continued to undress you, tugging your belt from your jeans now. Meanwhile you did everything you could to focus on the case. He was so close, though, and the warmth of his breath and fingers was making you woozy.

“Apparently the patients went even more nuts and took over the hospital.” He crouched down and started to slide your jeans down.

You eyes fluttered shut at the feel of his breath against your thighs. “Did… did anyone die?”

“Yeah.” Getting back up, he slid his hands under your shirt and began to slowly lift it up. “Let’s talk about it later,” he suggested, dragging his palms over yours breasts on his way up.

Cracking your eyes open, you watched him. He was pouting in that delicious way that made your knees weak. Tongue peeking out, he wet his lips as he reached your neck. There was so much focus in his eyes...

Pulling the shirt over your head, he quickly dropped it to the ground and leaned in to catch your lips with his.

Melting into the touch, you wound your arms around his neck and pulled him closer. His hands gripped your hips tightly as he backed you up until your ass hit the bathroom counter. Grunting against your lips, he lifted and sat you down on the counter.

Yelping, you pulled away at him to pout. “Warning next time… it’s cold.”

He just chuckled. “Need me to warm you up, baby?” Leaning in again, he pressed a kiss to your collarbone.

Despite the heat in your cheeks and stomach, despite the fact your were clenching around nothing, desperate for more of his touch… you hesitated. Your eyes flickered to the door as Dean trailed his lips up to suck on your neck.

“What about Sam?”

“If we’re quiet enough, he won’t hear a thing,” Dean mumbled against you.

“He can smell us, Dean,” you reminded him.

Nipping, sucking and kissing along your skin, he moved up to your ear. “Good. I want him to hear me make you scream.” Pulling back, he caught your gaze and showed you the dark lust in his. “I haven’t touched you in weeks, and I can’t fucking stand him playing the doting Alpha role. He thinks he knows what’s best… let me prove him wrong.”

“I don’t want to be a pawn in your pissing match, Dean,” you countered, brows furrowing into a glare. “I’m not some toy you can turn on and off when you see fit.”

“No… but I do enjoy turning you on.” He grinned.

When you just rolled your eyes, he stepped closer and pressed himself against your crotch. The roll of his hips made you moan as the size of him teased your folds. Already he was so hard, so needy, and it was all because of you.

“Let me have you, please.” Moving in closer, he ghosted his lips against yours as his hips continued to buck into you. “Let me make you feel good, ‘Mega.”

That’s what pushed you over the edge. The use of that title, the sound of his voice, the feel of his cock…

“Fuck, Dean…”

Lips curving into a victorious grin, Dean chuckled lightly. “That’s my girl.”

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he pulled you flush against him. His lips caught yours in a deep kiss as his free hand slid between your bodies. Distracted by the way he licked into your mouth, you didn’t focus on him as he worked on freeing himself from his jeans.

Fisting his cock, he slid the tip of it along your folds, pulling a needy whine from your throat. Teasing you a little longer, he pressed himself against your clit and circled it, causing your hips to buck off the counter. When he was sure he’d riled you up enough, he lined himself up and pressed into you in one swift thrust.

“Fuck!” You bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out again.

Dean leaned in closer grunting against your neck as he began to move steadily. His grip on your waist kept you in place, kept you close, kept you slightly angled so he could easily find that sweet spot of yours.

“Feel so good,” he mumbled against your skin. “Always feel so fucking perfect. Missed this. Missed you.”

Clinging to his shoulders, you pressed against him as much as possible as you tried to hide your face to muffle the filthy noises spilling from your lips. The way he kept thrusting into you, his hips slapping against you in just the right way so he grazed your G-spot every time… it was driving you perfectly insane.

Reaching between your bodies again, he quickly located your clit and began to work it as he sped up a little. You could feel him nearing his end in the way his pace faltered every now and then, and how his breath had grown a little ragged.

He came first, bucking as he emptied into you on a deep groan. The feel of his warmth and the grip of his fingers on your hips had you fall into your own ending.

You let out a cry as your walls clenched and pulsed around him, a rush overflowing you suddenly. Dean was right there, holding you up as you swayed a little.

His sweaty forehead pressed against your shoulder as he worked at controlling his breathing. “Fuck I needed that,” he groaned, shifting enough to press a skin against your equally clammy skin.

Humming, you nodded lazily and nuzzled into him. “Me too.”

Smiling against you, he gave you a couple more kisses and he mumbled, “Love you.”

The remaining bliss pulsating through you faded at the sound of those words as you realised… he only loved you when no one else was there to hear it.

Pulling away from him, you slid off the counter and reached for the shower. Dean watched, brows furrowed ever so slightly as he noticed the change in your attitude.

“Was it something I said?”

“There’s a job to do, Dean. You had your fun, now it’s time to get to work,” you explained, hoping the case would distract him. Sure enough, it did.

“Right.” He nodded, joining you in the shower. As you began to wash each other, he carefully asked, “Is there any way to keep you from joining Sammy and me tonight?”

“Nope,” you answered shortly. “Gotta have some kind of control of my life, Dean.”

…

Sam was keeping his distance. He was being short, with both you and Dean… and you had a feeling you knew why.

There was no way you didn’t stink like Dean and sex. Doesn’t matter how much you washed yourself in the shower, an Alpha like Sam would be able to smell it on you, and obviously he could.

Normally if an Alpha smells an Alpha on an Omega it triggers either three responses. One, the Alpha that hadn’t got lucky would deem the scent as a challenge and try to out Alpha the other one- which meant fighting, posturing, trying to woo the Omega in question. Two, the scent would be a huge warning sign and would keep other Alphas away from the Omega- like when a dog marks its territory. Three, if the Alphas are close enough, they chose to ignore the scent- they grow used to it.

In Sam’s case… he was experiencing all three. He was a strong willed Alpha that had already expressed his desire to take some control, smelling Dean on you was like a slap to the face to him- aggravating and hard to ignore. But on the other hand, he knew he had no claim on you while Dean did, and the rational part of him was trying to remind him of that. Meanwhile, the fact he was so used to the scent, and you and Dean being together, was the reason why he was choosing not to walk off.

But staying was clearly not easy.

You weren’t sure if either brother had realised it, but the tension between the three of you had both of them ‘spraying’ their scent. It was wafting off them like a bad stink as they subconsciously tried to over power each other.

The drive to the asylum had been terrible as they filled up the small space with their musky and spice scents. If you and Dean hadn’t had sex before leaving, your body probably would have gone into an early heat with all the Alpha male crap those two you suffocating you with.

“Some patients, some staff. I guess it was pretty gory. Some of the bodies were never even recovered, including our chief of staff, Ellicott,” Sam noted without looking at either you or Dean.

Dean frowned. “Whaddaya mean, never recovered?”

“Cops scoured every inch of the place but I guess the patients must've…” Sam shrugged, “stuffed the bodies somewhere hidden.”

You grimaced.

“Still glad you decided to join us?” Dean asked you.

Straightening up, you gave a short nod. “Yep.”

Rolling his eyes and shaking his head, he walked further into the asylum as he pulled out his homemade EMF reader.

“Getting readings?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, big time.”

Using the camera he’d brought along, Sam looked at the screen and scanned the hallway. “This place is orbing like crazy.”

“Probably multiple spirits out and about,” Dean noted.

“And if these uncovered bodies are causing the haunting…”

“We gotta find ’em and burn ’em,” Dean finished for Sam. “Just be careful though. The only thing that makes me more nervous than a pissed off spirit... is the pissed off spirit of a psycho killer.”

...

“You could have stayed in the car,” Dean told you as you followed him through the asylum, shotgun in hand.

“Don’t say it like you would have let it happen. You’d never leave me in the car, alone, outside a haunted asylum,” you countered.

“Yeah… well… you could have stayed at the motel.”

“And I could have stayed at Bobby’s.”

He scoffed, “No you couldn’t. He sent you off after threatening to call and tell me where you were.”

Your jaw dropped. “He told you.”

“Yep.”

“What an asshole,” you mumbled, shaking your head.

“Dean! Y/N!” Sam’s voice carried from a couple of hallways back.

Spinning on your heels, eyes wide, you realised he hadn’t been behind you this whole time. “Where the hell is Sam?”

Instead of answering, Dean grabbed your arm and pulled you along as he dashed in the direction where the voice had come from. Feet pounding on the ground, the two of you moved as fast as possibly.

As you rounded a corner, you found Sam standing in a room as a woman with a large gash in her head reached out for Sam.

“Shotgun!” Sam yelled.

“Get down!” you ordered as you raised your gun, aimed it at the ghost, and took a shot as soon as he was on the ground.

The woman disintegrated in the air.

Breathing heavily, Sam stood up again. “That was weird.”

“Yeah. You're telling me.” Dean’s eyes darted around to make sure there were no more before he walked back out of the room.

Sam was quick to follow, with you not far behind. “No, Dean, I mean it was weird that she didn't attack me,” Sam explained.

“Looked pretty aggro from where I was standing,” Dean argued.

“She didn't hurt me. She didn't even try! So if she didn't wanna hurt me then what did she want?”

As the three of you were passing a doorway to another room, something moved inside. The sound had you all freezing as your heads snapped in the direction from where the sound had come from. Already, you had your gun raised as you got ready to shoot something else.

Carefully, taking the lead, Dean stepped inside and headed towards the overturned metal bed that sat on its side in the corner. With you close behind and his torchlight in hand, Sam stepped up to Dean, took a moment, and then reached out to tip the bed upside down and out of the way.

What you were expecting was a terrifying ghost… not a teenaged Beta girl huddled on the ground.

“It's alright, we're not going to hurt you,” Dean assured her as you quickly lowered your gun. “It's okay.” He offered her a hand and helped her up. “What's your name?

“Katherine,” she answered. “Kat.”

“Okay. I'm Dean, this is Sam,” he gestured to his brother, “and that’s Y/N.” He gestured to you.

“What are you doing here?” Sam scolded.

Kat’s eyes darted around, clearly spooked. “Um. My boyfriend, Gavin.”

“Is he here?” Dean asked.

“Somewhere. He thought it would be fun, try and see some ghosts. I thought it was all just… you know… pretend.” She tugged on her cardigan and pulled it closer to her as she hugged herself. “I've seen things. I heard Gavin scream and-”

Dean was quick to cut her off before she could freak herself out more, “Alright. Kat? Come on.” He took her hand and started to lead her towards the hallway. “Sam's gonna get you out of here and then we're gonna find your boyfriend.”

Pulling her hand out of his grasp, Kat shook her head as she looked to all three of you. “No! No. I'm not going to leave without Gavin. I'm coming with you.”

“It's no joke around here, okay. It's dangerous,” Dean countered.

But she stood her ground. “That's why I gotta find him.”

Sam and Dean shared a look that clearly said they did not want to have to babysit her and look for her idiot boyfriend, because there were more pressing things they were supposed to be doing. But this wasn’t something any of you could ignore. The teens’ lives were at risk, and there was no way you were letting anything happen to either of them.

“Okay.” You gave a short nod to Kat before either brother could respond. “We’ll split up. You go with Dean, and I’ll go with Sam.” As Dean opened his mouth to argue, you turned to his brother and grabbed his hand. “Come on. The faster we find him, the faster we can get out of here,” you noted as the two of you walked out of the room, leaving Dean and Kat behind you.

Bamby

[vvivacious101]

Long Live The Queen

Okay, I have now watched this episode twice more and I have so many more thoughts.

On the Second Watch:

1. Maybe I'm not thinking this whole Dean and Cas thing, in Purgatory, through. They have to get a Leviathan Blossom, do they even know what it is? I think not, which indirectly means we are definitely going to be catching up with someone in the next episode. It could be a new character but given that this is the last season I am more inclined with the former view.

Also, there is something else in Purgatory that hates both Cas and Dean's guts, Leviathans which would make it extra special if Dick Roman makes it back on the show which is unlikely because I believe he is dead dead. But still cool thought. Anyhow, I can't wait for thirty-one flavours of bottom dwelling nasties.

2. I can't imagine I forgot to mention Lilith makes a reappearance on the show and Michael just dusts her, like how could we ever forgot how powerful archangels are. But the short second life of Lilith means that ie one player off the chess board.

3. This entire episode I couldn't shake the feeling that Eileen was going to die but somehow I still managed to not connect it with Chuck. I fear for Eileen's life. Fingers crossed. I hope I'm not right.

4. Do Sam and Dean have the power of God seems to be a subtly veiled question? After all what will it take to take down God.

5. I am still loving Donatello's performance in this one. He is so good.

What is it with you people? Can't anything you do be easy?

Donatello literally runs out of the bunker. God, was he always this funny. This guy is so good!!!

6. Can we also talk about the fact that team free will gets trounced by Demons who haven't even been scary since season 6.

Like Dean's “anyone of us winning” is a good indication of how increasingly Sam and Dean find themselves on the wrong sides of fight. In fact they seem to be consistently loosing on that front especially when they are going up against supernatural creatures. The one exception being Dean vs the MOTW last week which was an off screen battle but since Dean comes out of it uninjured it probably went really well considering Dean was tied up and had just managed to get loose when the creature set itself free. They lost against the witches in Golden Time and Eileen was the one who saved them that time. In Proverbs 17:3 they only managed to survive because Andy decided to kill his brother and himself. In Atomic Monsters there was no fight. There seems to be a trend here were fights seem to be turning uglier than usual for Sam and Dean even if it's just demons.

7. MVP of this episode is Donatello hands down.

8. Castiel and Michael are very interesting. So while rewatching season 1 I had this realisation that Sam leaving hurt Dean more than John purely because in a way the most consistent parental figure in Sam's life has been Dean. This dynamic can be extrapolated to Cas and Michael while Castiel's real father is God the most consistent fatherly figure that he has followed is Michael. I mean they weren't following God's orders in Season 4, they were following Michael's but this doesn't quite fit because Cas and Michael are not at all close. Yet he still answers Cas' prayer it has been a long time since he has been able to answer anybody's prayer but he chooses to answer Cas' which begs the question why? Why did Michael choose to answer the angel who he only seems to remember as the being who doomed him? Which brings the question that maybe Michael isn't so bad he has always had good intentions and they definitely paved his way to Hell but still the intent has never been purely malicious unlike AU Michael this one still hasn't lost his faith or maybe he just seems to have the right guide in Adam, who is ready to forgive Sam and Dean.

9. Sue Barrish is an interesting character especially as Chuck is basically moonlighting as her. I like how he gets Eileen to participate with the key words ‘do you have to ask for permission’ because prior to that part Eileen is maybe  thinking it’s not the right time considering they have a walking talking WMD in the bunker but that gets to her. Chuck at his manipulating best. Then he throws the cherry on top.

How did I not notice this the first time? Eileen sees that Sue is alright and she says “Thank God” which is exactly when Chuck breaks cover as Sue to come back with “Anytime”.

10. This is seriously not right. How can Michael open a rift between the Earth and Purgatory while the handcuffs still on. Exactly what do the handcuffs prevent, only him flying out, then he could just kill everyone, get the key and get out like that has got to be a major flaw right? Right?

I mean shaking the bunker I get he is distraught emotions seem to make them stronger like when Jack gets super jacked when he breaks out of the box at the end of Season 14 because he feels betrayed and he gets angry though how he can get angry without a soul is still subject to debate. But opening rifts that has got to be super specific and powerful magic which Michael can still perform with the handcuffs on, like how powerful is this guy and what does putting him in handcuffs truly achieve.

11. I loved how they didn't have Ruth's name in the beginning so that her return would be a total surprise because at times the actors names can give away plot points because I remember seeing Samantha's name in the beginning seasons and freaking out every time because I knew that met Sam and Dean were up for a tumultuous time.

12. So generally the mid season finale is the point where the characters are at there lowest like they make a gamble to defeat the big bad and it fails, like in Season 5 where the mideseaon finale is literally title “Abandon All Hope...” But this episode doesn't do that. Infact it isn't self contained at all from the ending we can tell that it is like the first three episodes which were like a self contained little arc but even they had endings. This episode really doesn't its got a big TBC at the end that they just forgot to put there. So they are not at there lowest which should mean that they have either already been there or this time the low point is going to come later in the season which is scary because the emotional burden of a low point near the end might kill me but they really seem to be going all out this season. They are going to rip us to shreds.

Then I watched it again:

a) Basically this episode begins with a subliminal message - Chuck always wins.

b) Okay I can't get over the fact that Rowena just tells Cas that no one ever gives you anything you have to take it. 😏

c) Let's talk about Sam and Dean's conversation it's basically a rehash of a similar convo in season 8 except with the roles of Sam and Dean reversed. I feel like I can read more into that but right now I am just cautiously optimistic. Dean also agrees he was in a bad place because of Cas and God and now Cas is back on the job and he atleast feels better. Dean being in a bad place is a loaded statement I'm actually surprised Sam doesn't want to talk more about it especially considering he picked up the earlier tension between Dean and Cas but that might just be about him respecting Dean's boundaries. Also I feel like in this particular conversation Sam feels put on the spot truly reversing their roles from season 8 he tries to say something to that effect but Dean interrupts. Right now I really want to know what's going on with Sam the last good look we had at Sam was in Atomic Monsters and I want another one.

d) Next up is Dean and Cas’ conversation which has to be the only conversation they have ever had where they don't make eye contact like at all. So I was thinking that some of Dean's dialogues could be interpreted as his own as compared to Michael's or maybe at this point he empathizes with him. But Cas repeating Michael's words was so epic.

“Leave. Go out. I want you dead.”

Kind of similar to what Dean said to Cas.

“We didn't bond.”

This episode just keeps on giving. I loved it!

[javocjovian]

You’re Mine, SPN Bingo

Title: You’re Mine Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17444402/chapters/43991233 Square Filled: Teasing Ship: Wincest (Demon!Dean x BoyKing!Sam) Rating: E Tags: Top!Dean x Bottom!Sam, Dom!Dean x Sub!Sam, BDSM, Bondage, Vibrators, Dildos, Cock rings, Chains, Spreader bar, Blindfolds, Dirty talk, Edging, Teasing, Oral (with cock ring), Biting/slapping (mentioned), Prostate Milking, Fingering, Anal, Demon blood Summary: Sam may be the Boy King of Hell, but he’ll always belong to Dean. Word Count: 2102

For Molly666 on AO3 :)

Created for @spnkinkbingo Beta-ed by @ellekess

Quote:

Sam’s body reacted more and more with each thrust, until Sam was tossing his head to the side and lifting his ass off the floor. Dean grabbed Sam’s cock while he fucked him, stroking it with renewed interest. Sam was so gorgeous like this, being fucked with a piece of silicon and loving every second of it. Sam panted out broken words of encouragement, and soon Dean couldn’t stand the toy having all the fun.

gif collage made by me using these

You’re Mine

The denizens of Hell were used to hearing the shouts and moans of the damned, but when those sounds came from the throne room they knew to steer clear. Nights like those always coincided with that asshole demon showing up, the brother of the Boy King of Hell.

Dean Winchester.

Dean had all the power and blood lust of Sam, but none of the style. Dean was all swagger and sarcasm, coated in whiskey and topped with a short temper. Why the King of Hell let his asshole of a brother stroll through whenever he pleased was beyond them.

It was probably because they were fucking.

Becoming a demon seemed to have heightened Dean’s sexual prowess, and he’d been taking it out on Sam. There was something so sinfully delicious about making his younger brother beg for release, especially once Sam had taken over Hell as their prodigal king. Sure, Sam was drinking more demon blood than ever these days, wielding power unlike any ever seen in Hell, but it only made the twisted dynamic between the brothers all the more satisfying. Sam loved every second of it.

While all of Hell bent to Sam’s will, Dean made Sam bend over for him.

So on that particular night, Sam found himself chained to the floor where his demons awaited judgment, prostrated before the throne of Hell. The objectification of it had his head spinning, especially while Dean sat in his throne watching him come undone.

Sam was completely naked with his arms chained above his head. His legs were in spreader bars and chained to metal rings in the stone floor. Sam could move his midsection but nothing else. He had a blindfold on, but no gag. Dean liked hearing his voice crack.

“Dean…Dean!”

Dean was sat on throne chair, something he always swore he wouldn’t do, watching Sam writhe and shake on the floor. Dean had his phone in his hand with his thumb on a new app. It didn’t take long to convince Sam to try it, and the effect was instantaneous.

Sam had a silicon cock buried in his ass with a nub on his prostate, and the toy was vibrating with deadly precision. Dean upped the dial on his phone, and Sam cried out.

“Dean! Fuck!”

Dean smirked to himself.

Sam’s body was covered in love bites and red hand prints. His straining cock and balls were on displayed via a cock ring with demonic writing engraved in it. Sam wasn’t coming any time soon.

Sam thrashed and panted on the floor, shaking as the vibrator seemed to push and pull his body in every direction, sending wave after wave of arousal to his balls.

Dean couldn’t help himself. He moved from the throne to kneel over Sam. Sam’s breathing went shallow. He couldn’t see, but all of his senses were heightened by demon blood. Dean took advantage of it by tracing his thumb over Sam’s cockhead. Sam bucked and moaned.

“Swear at me all you want, Sammy. But you’re mine tonight,” Dean grinned. He bent over and just breathed on Sam’s cock, making it twitch. “And I am having way too much fun to let you cum.”

Sam sucked in a breath as Dean licked the beaded precum off of his cock. He tasted like heaven, ironically. Dean savored the flavor, then licked Sam nice and slow, making him shiver in response.

“Dean...”

“I love it when you say my name,” Dean goaded him, continuing to tease him with his tongue.

Sam’s voice cracked when Dean planted his lips down and hummed. Dean’s lips amplified the feeling of the vibrator, and Sam’s muscles trembled. Dean smiled against Sam’s cockhead.

After a few minutes of tortuously slow, indulgent licking, Dean swallowed Sam’s cock into his mouth, making Sam’s expression melt.

Dean was the only one who had ever braved Sam’s entire cock at once. Sam was big, but Dean was fearless, so he choked himself on Sam’s cock, swallowing and sucking and knowing full well that Sammy couldn’t cum.

Sam just about lost his mind. He hovered on the edge of a mind numbing orgasm, tingling as the vibrator and Dean teased him endlessly. Then Dean reached down and pushed the vibrator in deeper.

Sam keened forward, but he was held down by his many restraints. It looked more like a violent twitch than an honest attempt at escape. Dean tasted Sam’s precum as he lazily played with the toy.

Having no way to see, every sudden turn and change in pattern sparked Sam’s arousal anew. He could only lay there and take it as Dean circled his stretched entrance with the wide base of the toy, dragging the shaft of it around in his body. Then he pulled it out a bit and slid it back in, spilling lube onto the floor. Sam moaned.

The toy had all sorts of strange ridges and markings on it, and Sam had never felt anything like it. Then Dean began fucking Sam with it, stirring it deeply in his body, and Sam shouted in bliss. He tried to hump Dean’s throat, but his restraints denied him once again. The sensation spiraled uncontrollably as a result, “Dean! Please! Let me come!”

Dean smiled internally. He popped off of Sam’s throbbing cock and began sucking and nibbling at his balls instead. Sam groaned. Dean pushed the dildo all the way it, then slapped the base, giving Sam a jolt of sensation.

“You know the rules, Sam,” Dean said, “You don’t come until I’ve had my fill.”

Sam shivered. This was the biggest toy yet, and it reached all the too-good-to-handle places. He listened as Dean pulled away from his cock and took something off the throne. Sam swallowed apprehensively.

In the next second, the vibrator shifted to its highest power, and the Sam felt his arousal flush out every other feeling in his body. It was so overwhelming that Sam almost went numb, but Dean kept striking the base, causing the sensations to reignite in Sam’s body. His mouth gaped silently at Dean, speechless with the force of his ecstasy.

Then Dean bent over and tore off Sam’s blindfold. Sam’s pupils were blown and he was tearing up. Dean experienced a wave of affection so rare that it had become a kink of its own, and he smiled at Sam indulgently.

“That’s it, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes fluttered and he gasped Dean’s name, his head swimming in submissive ecstasy.

Dean moved back to his side and resumed teasing his cock. He knew Sam very well. He knew how to play with all his most sensitive spots so that he could never rest. He knew exactly where to stroke and squeeze so that Sam dribbled precum like a fountain. At one point he dipped down and flattened his tongue between the dildo and Sam’s entrance, rimming him here and there. Sam’s whole body shook uncontrollably, and Dean smirked to himself. He knew Sam better than anyone.

He spent a while longer sucking his brother’s cock, relishing in all the sounds and moans he could draw out of him at will. He even flicked his tongue into Sam’s slit, knowing that it was the secret spot that made him freeze up with arousal.

Finally, he eased the vibration down. After being on such a high power, Sam didn’t even feel the dildo in him anymore. Dean had a feeling this would happen, so he popped off of Sam and pulled the toy out a bit. He slid it back in, fucking him with it, and Sam arched off the floor.

“Atta’ boy. Show me how good this feels,” Dean encouraged.

Sam’s body reacted more and more with each thrust, until Sam was tossing his head to the side and lifting his ass off the floor. Dean grabbed Sam’s cock while he fucked him, stroking it with renewed interest. Sam was so gorgeous like this, being fucked with a piece of silicon and loving every second of it. Sam panted out broken words of encouragement, and soon Dean couldn’t stand the toy having all the fun.

Dean tossed the toy aside, giving Sam a chance to catch his breath. He was sweating and shaking on the floor, his cock straining in need.

Sam knew what would happen next. Dean could see it in his eyes. Sam stared hungrily as Dean lubed himself up. Dean adjusted the spreader bar so that he could sit between Sam’s dripping, flushed thighs. Then he readjusted it so that Sam’s legs were spread wide. He slid a wedge under Sam’s lower back, forcing an arch in his spine. His hole was gaping slightly from the toy and leaking lube, and it had never looked so inviting. Dean stroked it with his fingers, then slid in just to feel his body.

Sam moaned as Dean fingered his prostate, forcing more precum out of his cock. Dean stroked him from the inside, fingering him just right so that Sam was out of his mind with lust.

“Dean…Dean, fuck me. I can’t take it,” Sam breathed.

“You can,” Dean countered, “I know you can.” Still, Dean pulled out and lined himself up at Sam’s sweet hole, “But you’re in luck. Because I’m going to fuck you anyway.”

Sam didn’t have time to register his relief. In the next second, Dean was pressing into his body and Sam was crying out in satisfaction.

“Yes! Oh f...fuck yes!”

Dean grinned breathlessly.

Once again, the throne room was filled with moans. Dean pushed in until he was flush against Sam’s ass, then he began fucking him powerfully.

The throne of Hell was nothing compared to this. Sam’s ass was Dean’s favorite sin, and he could have buried himself in it night and day. It was so tight despite the years of use, and it reacted perfectly to every thrust. Soon Dean was panting and cursing right along with Sam.

Dean raked his hands up Sam’s body, taking full advantage of his vulnerability. He groped his cock and balls, then scratched his fingernails down the underside of Sam’s thighs. Sam was in heaven.

“That’s it, Sammy. Take it. You can have Hell but, this?” Dean grabbed his cock once more, “This is mine. Every inch of you, it’s all mine. Let me hear it!”

“It’s yours, Dean! I’m yours,” Sam breathed.

Dean closed his eyes, getting a feral pleasure out of those words. They spurred him on, and soon he was grunting with every thrust, “I want you lubed and ready at all times. When you’re sitting on your throne, or giving orders, or drinking demon blood…I want you to know you’re mine.”

Sam nodded distractedly, but Dean knew it was sincere. He angled his cock into Sam’s prostate as if in reward, and Sam shouted in pleasure.

Dean’s hand left Sam’s cock at last. He found his pocket knife on the floor by his jeans and used it to cut into his own palm, still rocking his hips between Sam’s legs. Sam knew what he was doing, and he groaned in approval. Dean reached down and smeared his blood along the cock ring. It released Sam at last, and Sam felt his orgasm begin to rise dangerously.

“Dean!”

“Keep talking, Sammy. Let me hear it. Let all of Hell hear it.”

Sam gasped and stammered Dean’s name, filling him with a feral pleasure. He fucked Sam with all his might and Sam came instantly. Dean pumped it out of him with his bloodied hand, watching heatedly as Sam lost his mind with bliss. Blood and lube mixed with Sam’s cum, and Dean was soon to follow. He came in Sam’s ass with a savage groan, thrusting until the very end.

Then, they were still. Their panting echoed throughout the throne room, sounding like a hundred people had joined them. Dean stroked Sam again, getting a sadistic pleasure out of watching him squirm in post-orgasm sensitivity. But Sam loved it. He trembled and jerked as Dean played with his slit and rubbed his glans.

Piece by piece, Dean began releasing Sam from his bonds. Although Sam wasn’t going anywhere. He felt like static; like he was floating through space with no mass, just throbbing vaguely with pleasure. He felt Dean pull him off the floor and into a spooning position sitting up against the throne. He could smell blood. As if reading Sam’s mind, Dean placed his palm over Sam’s mouth. Sam drank from his brother, and Dean rested his head on the seat on his throne.

“Atta boy, Sammy,” Dean murmured, closing his black eyes in bliss.

[marypsue]

Girls In White Dresses

This was supposed to be like three thousand words, tops. I don’t know what happened. 

I’m also on AO3 as MaryPSue!

...

Jessica Moore was twenty-two years old when she came home from the library and found her boyfriend on the ceiling.

She hadn't noticed, at first. That's the worst part. Sam had been trapped up there for who knew how long while Jess had drifted around the bedroom, listening to the shower running in the ensuite, kicking off her shoes, taking off her bra. Reveling in the full-body sigh of relief, of freedom from the everyday agonies of beauty. She'd taken her time picking through her nightgowns and negligees, thinking of Sam in the shower, of the stress in those broad shoulders from all those weeks of studying, of how they could work out that stress together. She'd picked out the silver satiny nightgown a very embarrassed Sam had given her for her last birthday, lost in daydreams and memories as she'd slipped it on. 

She hadn't snapped out of it until something warm and wet had dripped onto her shoulder, trickling down her arm. Something warm, and wet, and red. 

It had taken her way too long to realise it was blood.

Sam was pinned by something invisible with his face down, all six feet something of him stretched out across the bedroom ceiling, eyes big and pleading, mouth moving but no sounds coming out. Blood dripped, steady, from the gash splitting open his bare stomach, splattering against the satiny fabric of Jess' nightgown and staining it, probably forever. Something wet and red pulsed under that terrible wound, and she realised she was looking at his intestines.

Jess had opened her mouth to scream, but just like with Sam, no sound came out. She staggered back, until her legs hit the bed behind her, and her knees crumpled, depositing her on the mattress. The man she loved just stared at her, through her, a voiceless cry for help caught in his throat, as flames rippled out around him.

Everything after that is a bit of a blur. Or at least that's what Jess tells the cops. But there are a handful of razor-edged moments, things that Jess knows are never going to fade, never going to blur. The slam of the door as the older woman had charged in, the soul-wrenching scream she'd let out when she'd seen Sam pinned up there. The smell of the red leather jacket the other woman, the younger one, had wrapped around Jess's head and shoulders as they'd crashed out the window. 

The accusing look Sam had fixed her with as he vanished, forever, in the flames.

That was the first time that Jess met her boyfriend's mother. But it wasn't the day she learned that monsters were real.

That would come later.

...

On a mild night in 1983, the Winchester home in Lawrence, Kansas went up in flames. John Winchester was inside it.

The papers reported that Mary Winchester and her two sons had been lucky to escape. But Mary knew better. Luck had nothing to do with it. The devil had taken his due.

And she'd be damned - literally, if necessary - before she'd let him lay a finger on either of her boys.

They spent too many years running. Too many years hiding, too many years in fear before Mary realised that, if she wanted to protect the little family she had left, she was going to have to stand up and fight. 

So she'd learned. She'd trained, and read, and researched. She'd taken them into the fangs of things that went bump in the night, and come out, bloodied and battered sometimes, but always stronger. One day, she knew, the thing that had taken her husband would come back for them. But this time, she'd be ready for it.

As it turned out, that hadn't saved them either.

Sam...Sam walked away, after. Mary couldn't blame him. She couldn't try to keep him alive if there was nothing for him to live for. And there was always the traitor thought that maybe he'd be safer away from her. Without her.

That thought had only grown stronger after what happened to Dean. Her oldest, her sweet boy, her brave little man. He always had had a reckless streak. He always had taken after his father.

The girl - Cassie - had lived, though. And the first thing she'd asked was how she could help.

For a while, it had just been the two of them, out on the road, saving people, hunting things. Cassie was a quick learner, and an even quicker shot. She knew things - histories, lore - that Mary had never encountered, that no one had ever written down. Or, at least, she knew how to find such things out. And she had a knack for getting people to gossip, which turned out to be more valuable than Mary could have imagined. Mary taught her how to shoot a shotgun, a pistol, how to stab to do the most damage and the least, taught her everything she knew about monsters. They made a good team. 

With Cassie's help, Mary even started to find patterns, omens heralding the presence of the demon that had destroyed her family. They could track it. Which meant they could hunt it. For the first time since the fire, Mary Winchester felt something like hope.

And then the trail of omens led them to Stanford University, and everything went straight to hell.

...

“So let’s run over your statement again, make sure everything’s correct,” the officer says, not unkindly, tapping his pen against the clipboard in his hands. “You are the mother of the deceased?”

The deceased. Mary understands why they phrase it that way, but that doesn’t make it any easier to hear. “Sam is my son, yes.”

The officer clears his throat, adjusting his tie, gaze skimming the paper in front of him. He doesn’t meet Mary’s eyes. “And the woman with you was -”

“My daughter-in-law,” Mary says, in her best soccer-mom voice. “Or daughter-in-common-law, I guess. Cassie and my Dean haven’t really had a chance to make it official.”

The officer nods, clearly not interested in any Winchester family dynamics that don’t directly involve the dead one. “And you were at the house because you were paying your son a surprise visit?”

Mary nods, again, feeling a bit like a bobblehead. “He had interviews coming up. For school. He was going to be a lawyer, you know. He was under so much stress, I thought it might be nice to - bring him some baking. Take him out to dinner.” She shakes her head. She doesn’t need to be an Oscar-winning actress to convince the officer she’s too overwhelmed with emotion to go on.

The officer shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “And neither of you saw anything out of the ordinary.”

“Just smoke leaking out of the bedroom window.”

“Which was why you and -” The officer checks his notes. “Cassie Robinson broke in.”

“It was a good thing we did, too. That poor girl. Jessica, wasn’t it? Do you know, is she all right?”

“Being treated for smoke inhalation. If all goes well, she'll be released from hospital tonight,” the officer says. “Well, your stories all line up. We’ll take a closer look at the fire damage, but it sounds like an electrical short. You said it started in the ceiling?”

“That’s what it looked like,” Mary agrees. She just wants out of the police station, out of this small, windowless room that, despite the comfortable furnishings and soft white walls, still looks too much like an interrogation cell. 

She just wants to get back on the scent of the thing that did this to her child.

The officer scribbles on his clipboard for an agonisingly long time, the scratch and scrabble of his pen the only sound besides the whir of the air conditioner. Finally, he turns the clipboard towards Mary, holding out the pen. “Right. I think all that’s left is for you to sign off on this. We’ll release the remains to you as soon as the coroner’s finished with her examination.”

Mary smiles, tightly, and takes clipboard and pen, scrawling her signature at the bottom of the page without looking. “About how long do you expect that’ll take?”

“I really can’t say. Depends on the results of our investigation.” The officer clears his throat again, and then, in a much less stilted voice, adds, “But between you and me, this looks like a straightforward case of misadventure. It shouldn’t be more than a week.”

“Thank you,” Mary says, handing the clipboard back to the officer. His thumb touches hers as he takes it from her, and for the first time, he looks up and actually meets her eyes.

“We’ll be in touch,” he says, his perfunctory professionalism wavering slightly. He holds Mary’s gaze for a moment longer, like there’s something he wants to say, something he can’t quite form into words.

Mary can see the moment he stops trying. “And Mrs. Winchester? I’m very sorry for your loss.”

You don’t know anything about loss, kid, Mary thinks, but on the outside, she just smiles.

...

The ER nurse pulls the curtain back on the bay Jess is waiting in, her smile wary. "You've got a visitor," she says, and then disappears, probably to help somebody who actually needs it.

Jess can't seem to make herself respond. It's like the signals from her brain aren't reaching her body, like there's a wall of static filling her head and clogging up all the nerves.

Sam is dead. Sam was alive, and then he was dead, and Jess watched him go from one to the other and didn't do anything to stop it. Couldn't do anything to stop it. And now Sam is dead and Jess doesn't even know what else she lost in the fire and Sam is dead and she doesn't have a place to live anymore and Sam is dead and the future is terribly, frighteningly uncertain and everything is changed forever and Sam is dead.

The worst part is, a little tiny part of Jess is still back in that afternoon, sitting in the library, knowing home and Sam are both safe and waiting for her. Can't wait to get out of this hospital so she can go home and give her boyfriend a hug and let him wrap her up in his big, warm arms and forget this whole nightmare.

And no matter what, that little, tiny, stupid part of her doesn't seem to be getting the message.

"Jessica?"

Jess can't make herself raise her head, no matter how much she yells at herself mentally for it. The voice isn't familiar, but it's soft, kind, patient, the sort of voice Jess associates with nurses and elementary school teachers. Nurturing.

"You don't know me," the voice continues, still patient, still kind. A weight settles on the end of the hospital bed, and Jess sees dark jeans, mud-spattered boots. She still can't seem to move her head the miniscule amount it would take to look up and see the stranger's face. What would be the point, anyway? Sam is dead. "My name's Mary. I'm Sam's mom."

That, at last, gets Jess to move. She looks up, meets the kind eyes of the woman smiling back at her. She recognises Mary's face right away, even though it's different when it's not contorted in rage and grief too big for one human body to handle. Maybe she would have recognised Mary's voice if Mary had been screaming.

A flash of white-hot guilt sears through Jess at the thought, cutting through the static. She'd lost the man she loved, but Mary - Mary had lost her child. She shouldn't be sitting here, patiently coaxing a complete stranger back to herself. If anything, Jess should be comforting her.

"I'm so sorry," she manages, embarrassed about the hollow sound of her voice, the way it rasps and cracks. "I'm so sorry, I can't imagine -"

Mary reaches out, rests one hand on Jess' knee and gives it a squeeze. "Do you have someplace to stay tonight, honey?"

It's the 'honey' that breaks her. Jess can feel her eyes fill, growing hot and swollen, even as she tries to swallow a sob. Suddenly, more than anything in the world, she just wants her own mom.

"Oh, shh, shhhh," Mary says, scooting closer across the bed so she can wrap an arm around Jess, tug her in to rest her head on Mary's shoulder. She starts to rock, ever so gently, back and forth, humming quiet nonsense, until Jess' shoulders stop heaving and she hiccups her breathing back under control.

"I," she manages, then takes a long breath, rubbing a fist under one eye. "I've got some friends on campus I can stay with. Thank you. I'm sorry." She's embarrassed, now, of her breakdown, can't forget that the woman holding her must also be in so much pain, but - she doesn't want to pull away. "Are you - how are you -"

"Holding up," Mary says wryly, rubbing Jess' back in slow, soothing circles. "If you'd like, you're welcome to stay with me and Cassie, we got a motel room just out of town."

"Thanks, but -" Jess starts, and then asks, "Cassie?"

With impeccable timing, another, younger woman steps around the curtain, a styrofoam coffee cup in each hand. She's got to be two or three years older than Jess, though with her wide eyes and little rosebud mouth, Jess bets she still gets carded at bars.

Her face lights up when she sees Jess, and she hands off one of the coffee cups to Mary, holding out a hand for Jess to shake. "Cassie Robinson. I'm glad to see you're doing okay. No major lacerations?"

"You're the one who pushed me out the window," Jess says. "You probably saved my life. Are you okay?"

Cassie grins, ruefully, down at the arm she'd extended to Jess. The beige bandage wrapped around it stands out pale against her skin. "Just a couple cuts and scrapes. Nothing to worry about." Her smile turns mischievous, and she adds, "Though you do owe me a new favourite leather jacket."

Jess winces.

"I've always said that a little bit of battle damage just adds character," Mary says, with a conspiratorial wink in Jess' direction. It's clearly meant to be lighthearted, to lift the mood, but for some reason, the words make the bottom drop out of Jess' stomach. Battle damage. All she can think about is the way this very woman, this sweet, considerate, motherly person, who had just held Jess and soothed her while she sobbed her heart out, had kicked her way through Jess' bedroom door with guns literally blazing.

Unless -

"Is... did you... Okay, there's no good way to ask this," Jess says, uncomfortably aware of the way Cassie's smile slips, the piercing gaze Mary levels at her. "Just what the hell happened back there?"

She doesn't miss the meaningful look Cassie and Mary exchange.

"I didn't...actually see my boyfriend gutted and stuck to my bedroom ceiling," Jess pushes on, despite the suddenly awkward silence. "Right? For one thing, I mean, gravity -"

"What do you think you saw?" Mary asks, still gentle, but with something steely under it.

Jess shakes her head. "I don't know. Something out of a horror movie." She reaches up, running a hand through her hair. "Guess I must've hit my head going out that window harder than I realised."

She looks up, at Cassie's suddenly closed-off face, an inexplicable dread washing over her. "Right?"

The silence stretches out just a beat too long before Mary reaches out and gives Jess a pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure that the doctors would know more about that than we would. I'm just glad to know you're okay." She slides off the bed and straightens up, flashing Jess a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "You're sure your friends won't mind putting you up for a few nights?"

Jess nods. She doesn't quite trust her voice.

"Well, then. Lots to do," Mary says, raising her coffee cup. "Cassie?"

Cassie gives a little start, like she'd been elsewhere in her head. She flashes Jess an apologetic smile, patting her pockets. "Hey, let me give you my cell phone number." She triumphantly pulls a little coil-bound book from one jacket pocket and a pen with a logo that can only belong to a motel from the other. She flips past the first few pages in the book, looking for blank paper, and Jess catches a glimpse of complicated symbols sketched over the blue lines.

"Thanks," Jess says. She hadn't really wanted them here when they'd arrived, but now, she isn't sure she wants them to leave.

"You give us a call if there's anything at all you need, sweetheart," Mary says, her smile finally reaching her eyes again.

"Or if anything...strange...happens," Cassie says, reaching out to give Jess the paper with her phone number on it. Jess takes it, warily.

"Anything...'strange'?"

Cassie just shrugs, before turning and following Mary out of the ER bay.

...

Cassie Robinson had had dreams of being a journalist, once.

But that was before. Before she'd lost both parents and the best friends she’d known, lost the man she'd started to love, nearly lost her life. Before the Winchesters.

Before Dean.

She hadn’t believed him, when he’d tried to tell her what was out there, what was coming for them. Cassie knows she’s never going to be able to make up for that. It’s a regret she’ll take to her grave. Maybe, if she’d listened, if she hadn’t been so scared, if she hadn’t wanted to stay in denial and write him off as crazy - 

But there’s no point dwelling on maybes. Dean’s gone, and no amount of regretting and wishing and what-iffing will bring him back.

Cassie still isn't sure why Mary Winchester took her under her wing, but she's done everything she can to be worthy of it. To make sure Mary doesn’t regret it. To make up for what she'd unknowingly taken.

Interview skills, research methods, a sympathetic ear for oral histories, all come in handy trying to track down the real monsters behind cryptids and urban legends. People who won't talk to the state troopers or the US marshals or the FBI agents or the insurance investigators will sometimes talk to a pretty, curious young girl in a bar. Cassie had never handled a gun before meeting Mary, but it turned out not to be so hard. After that, the job’s ninety percent messing around in graveyards. 

And she's gotten to see the country, though admittedly a lot of their jobs have taken them to places Cassie never wants to go again. Sundown towns are still alive and well in the vast, ugly middle of America. There'd been plenty of times she'd been grateful to know Mary had her back, and it wasn't just when they were facing down monsters.

Well. Depending on your definition of "monster".

They make a good team. And what had started out as a partnership of guilt and convenience quickly turned into something more. Cassie lost her mother. Mary  lost her children. Cassie would never dare say it in so many words, but - their broken edges fit pretty well together. And even though Mary never says much, Cassie gets the sense that she feels the same way.

So it comes as a nasty shock when Cassie wakes up in a motel room somewhere in East Palo Alto, the day after they’d been too late to save Sam, and finds Mary gone.

...

There’s a guy standing just outside the caution tape, when Jess gets back from the admin office, staring up at the blackened siding of the house, the blue tarp flapping over the part of the roof that burned through. Jess can’t bring herself to look at it for too long, so she focuses on the stranger instead. She can’t say she’s ever seen him around campus, but it’s a big school and there’ve been a lot of gawkers popping up out of the woodwork since the fire. He looks a little older than most of the students Jess knows, dark hair cropped close to his skull in an almost military cut, both hands tucked in the pockets of his battered leather jacket, feet planted shoulder-width apart like he’s expecting something to come out of nowhere to knock him down and he’d like to see it try.

As Jess draws closer, she notices he also has fantastic cheekbones and a pout she knows several of her girlfriends would kill for. There’s something about that face that’s strangely soft, at odds with the tough-guy image he’s projecting, and Jess finds herself liking him, just a little, before they even make eye contact. In the strangest way, something about that surprising softness incongruously combined with that unmistakably masculine image reminds her sharply, painfully, of Sam.

The guy glances over his shoulder at her as she steps up to the caution tape, squinting a little in the sun. “You knew the guy who lived here?” he asks, and Sam’s face just before the flames had hidden him from view flashes across Jess’ vision again. She blinks, like that’ll help, turning away from the house.

“I did,” she says. “Sam and I were dating.”

The stranger looks almost stricken. “Shit. I’m sorry,” he says, turning back to the house and saying nothing more. Somehow, it’s more comforting than all Jess’ friends’ gushing.

“It’s okay,” she says. It’s not, but - “Did you know him?”

The stranger huffs out a half-laugh, one side of his mouth twisting up in a crooked smile and revealing a flash of white teeth. “You could say that.” He finally turns to properly face Jess. “Name’s Dean. I’m - I guess I was Sam’s big brother.”

Jess stares at him for a moment longer than she knows is polite, trying to see Sam in the bones under his skin, the green of his eyes, the way he carries himself. She’s not sure whether she’s relieved or disappointed not to find what she’s looking for.

“Hey, do you want to come in?” she asks, at last.

...

“Singer’s Curio Cabinet, antiques and collectibles. You got Karen.”

Cassie doesn’t waste time with pleasantries. “Have - you haven’t heard from Mary, have you?”

Karen Singer is quiet for a moment on the other end of the line, and there’s a rustle of paper. “Sorry, Cass, haven’t heard word one. I thought you two were down in California?”

“We are. I mean, we were, but we got split up, and she didn’t leave a note or a message -”

“You try the phone book motel trick?”

Cassie shakes her head before remembering that Karen can’t see her. She isn’t sure how to explain that part of her doesn’t really think Mary’s trying to find her. Doesn't really think Mary wants to be found.

Thankfully, she’s spared the moment of existential crisis when the phone beeps loudly in her ear. 

“Sorry, Karen, I’m getting another call,” she says. “Maybe it’s her.”

“Well, don’t let me keep you,” Karen says, only a little sarcastic. Normally, Cassie would have some kind of retort, but she doesn’t want to miss Mary. She just says a hurried goodbye and clicks over to the incoming call.

“What’s going on? Are you all right?” 

Mary doesn’t try to explain or apologise. She just says, “I found him.”

Cassie’s breath stops in her throat. “You - ?”

“I found him,” Mary repeats. There’s a pause, the sound of her drawing in a deep breath, before she says, “Dean is here.”

...

“Sam never mentioned a big brother,” Jess says, pulling two bottles of some cheap, horrible beer that she’s pretty sure was left over from a party she doesn’t know how long ago from the fridge. The light flickers three times with a nasty electric buzz before she slams the door on it. Damn thing’s been on its last legs for weeks, and the fire just seems to have made it worse. Jess just hopes it doesn’t die before she can get all her food - and the rest of her stuff, whatever's salvageable - moved out of the house. That's really what she was here to do today. That, and see if any of her clothes survived. She can't keep borrowing Abby's. “Although, he barely ever talks - sorry, talked about his family at all.” 

She shakes her head as she walks back into the living room, where Dean's made himself at home on her couch. Jess hands him the bottle, and Dean shoots her that crooked grin again, salutes her with the bottle before popping the lid off with his thumb. “It still feels wrong to talk about him in the past tense, you know?”

Dean shakes his head, looks up to stare hard at the blank screen of the TV, and doesn’t answer Jess’ question. “It’s been a while since I saw him. When Sam left for college we weren’t exactly on the best of terms.” He looks down at his beer, and Jess has to turn all her attention to uncapping her own just so she doesn’t have to see the expression on his face. “I’d kill to have him back for five minutes, just to tell him -” He cuts himself off. 

In the heavy silence that follows, Jess tries and fails not to see that accusing look Sam had fixed on her in his last moments again.

“I think I know what you mean,” she says, and then takes a long drink of her beer to keep from saying anything else ridiculous and too personal to this man she’s only just barely met. It doesn’t work. “I miss him like I think I'd miss one of my arms if it got ripped off. I think I’m going crazy. I keep dreaming about him -”

It’s her turn to cut herself off before she can go somewhere dark.

“I was just on my way back from the admin office,” she says, slowly. “I’m withdrawing from all my classes. I can’t -” She takes a deep breath, tries to tell herself that the smoke she can smell is just lingering in the walls and the burnt part of the roof that’s covered with a tarp now. “I can’t finish this semester. Not like this. Not without a real place to live, not with exams so close, not with -” Not with Sam’s face still haunting her every time she closes her eyes. 

Dean nods, but doesn’t say anything, and doesn’t look up at her. Jess has to admit she’s grateful for the moment to compose herself.

“Anyway,” she says. “What brought you out here?”

Dean looks up at her, lips pursed and eyebrows raised, and Jess realises what a stupid question that was. She rolls her beer bottle between her palms, forcing a laugh. “Right.” She casts around for something, anything, to change the subject to. “Are you...here with your mom?” 

Something dark flickers across Dean’s face before it’s replaced with a smile. “Nah.” No explanation. Jess gets the clear sense that this part of the conversation is over. 

She’s a little disappointed. The events of that night are - well, there’s just so much she remembers that’s completely impossible, so much that those women - Cassie, and Mary, and wasn't that one hell of a way to meet your boyfriend's mom - had totally failed to explain. Jess hadn’t realised until just now that she’d sort of been hoping Dean would have the answers to all her unanswered questions. Just who the hell was her boyfriend, anyway? More and more, she’s starting to feel like she never knew Sam at all.

“How long were you two together?” Dean asks, clearly throwing the foundering conversation a life preserver, and Jess grabs onto it gratefully.

“Almost three years. I can’t believe - it’s hard to imagine that there’s a future without him in it.” There’s a little bead of condensation tracking down the neck of Jess’ beer bottle, and she watches it, fixated, until it hits her hand and vanishes in the crook between her thumb and forefinger.

Dean whistles under his breath. “Sammy musta been pretty serious about you.”

“I - I was pretty serious about him,” Jess admits to her beer. “If he’d asked. I would’ve said yes.”

Dean’s laugh is rough, harsh. “Too bad he never got the chance.”

Jess shakes her head. She forces down another swallow of the awful beer. What the hell is she supposed to say to that?

“Why are you really here?” she asks, quietly. “Talking to me? What’s this about?”

“Can’t a guy try to get to know his estranged brother post-mortem?” Dean asks, a little too jaunty, a little too devil-may-care. “He chose to spend the last years of his life with you. You probably know him better by now than I do.” His smile is horrible.

“I didn’t - I had no idea about the...situation with his family,” Jess says. She’s dimly aware of how defensive she sounds. “I wasn’t trying to - keep him away from anybody, or anything. He always avoided the subject whenever we talked about where we were going for school breaks, or -”

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t say I blame you,” Dean says, raising a hand, palm out. 

Jess forces herself to take a deep, ragged breath.

“I know,” she says. “I’m sorry. I just keep thinking -” of how Sam had stared right through her, of how she hadn’t even noticed he was up there until -

“That you shoulda been able to do something,” Dean says, like he’s finishing her sentence, like he’s reading her mind. “That you shoulda saved him. Somehow.”

Jess bites her bottom lip.

“Yeah,” she whispers. And then, before she can think better of it, rein it in, "I'd give anything to get him back."

There’s something, in the silence that follows, like a bass note too deep for her to really hear, like the feeling of eyes on the back of her neck. Nothing’s actually changed, and yet, Jess has the sudden and inexplicable feeling that the air’s...charged, somehow. Humming, like the moment before a lightning strike. She’s suddenly, intensely aware of the open space around her, of how many windows the living room has, how many places for people to look in at her unseen. How unprotected she is. 

Dean’s voice is quiet, low. “Anything?”

Jess lets out a shaky laugh, putting her beer down on the coffee table to rub her bare arms. They’ve broken out all over with gooseflesh. 

“Hang on, I think -” she starts, trying to come up with some excuse to get out of the room. Why had she invited a stranger into her house? She’d taken him on his word, but - Sam never had mentioned an older brother. And now she’s alone, in her house, with him, and no one else knows he’s here... “Uh, the fridge has been on the fritz, and I can’t hear it anymore - I just wanna check that it’s still running.”

She stands up and walks into the kitchen, trying to keep it natural, trying not to walk too fast. She can feel Dean’s eyes boring into her back the whole way.

As soon as Jess is out of the living room, she ducks around the doorframe, pulling her phone from her pants pocket with shaking fingers. She searches through her contacts, pulls up the cell phone number Cassie had given her in the hospital. She'd said to call if Jess needed anything, or if anything strange happened. Jess is suddenly, inexplicably sure that this counts.

She hesitates with her thumb on the call button, though, before thinking better of it and tapping out a text instead. Maybe Jess is just blindly putting her trust in another stranger, but Mary and Cassie had shown up at just the right moment and dragged her out of a burning building. They'd saved her life. 

Though what if the reason they'd been there just in time to save Jess’ life was because they'd put it in danger in the first place?

A shadow falls across Jess’ face, and she only barely manages to stifle a scream. Dean gives her a strange look, like he’s trying to decide if she’s a few side dishes short of a picnic, and jabs a thumb at the fridge. “Sounds like it’s running fine now. Hey, do you want me to take a look at it? I don’t know anything about fridges, but I do know a lot about cars, and how different can they really be?”

Jess lets out a long, shaky breath, manages a smile. 

“No, I think I’ll complain to the school about it until they either replace it or kick me out of student housing,” she says, with admirable nonchalance, she thinks. She slides out around Dean, making her way across the kitchen towards the knife block, just in case. “Sorry, I just - why did you ask me -”

“If you’d really give anything to get Sam back?” Dean’s smile is blinding but, Jess realises now, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Like I said, my brother chose to spend the last years of his life with you. Maybe I just wanted to make sure the person he chose deserved him.”

It’s a good answer. It makes sense. But Jess’ skin is still crawling.

She glances down at her phone, relieved to see that Cassie's already texted back. But she hasn’t answered Jess’ question. Instead, there’s just one line of text, and it's another question. is he there right now?

in house w/ me. is he legit?

The next text appears less than a second later, like Cassie was sitting staring at her phone, waiting for Jess to respond. It's short, only three words.

get out NOW

Slowly, Jess looks back up at Dean.

Dean, who smiles ruefully, shrugging both shoulders. “Too bad,” he says. “If you were serious, I know somebody who coulda made it happen.”

He blinks, and when he opens his eyes, they’re wrong. Yellow, and inhuman, and wrong.

Jess grabs blindly at the knife block, but Dean waves a hand and it’s like she’s been hit by an invisible truck. Jess goes flying backwards, across the kitchen, and slams into the cabinets so hard that she sees little black and white stars flickering across her vision. She struggles to suck in a breath, dimly aware that her feet have left the ground, that her back is scraping against the cabinet doors, that she’s being dragged up the wall by whatever invisible hand is holding her pinned there. 

“Who were you texting?” Dean asks, casually, like he isn’t in the middle of somehow telekinetically throttling Jess. He keeps one hand up as he kneels to retrieve her dropped phone, but shows no other sign that he’s even breaking a sweat. Jess gasps for air. The swimming, flashing stars are getting thicker.

Dean flips her phone open and clicks through her messages for a moment, a slow smile crossing his face. “Cassie?” he asks, glancing up at Jess. If it weren’t for the flash of those sickening eyes, he’d look like a little kid on Christmas morning. 

Jess grits her teeth, and doesn’t answer. Not that she could have even if she’d wanted to. There’s still no air making its way down her throat, and her limbs are all starting to feel dangerously weak.

Dean chuckles, still grinning like he’s about to tear into the most beautifully-wrapped present. “Well, this is even better than I expected! Two for the price of one.”

He looks up at Jess, still struggling weakly against the force holding her in the air, and says, “Let’s see how long it takes them to come charging to the rescue.”

...

in house w/ me. is he legit?

Cassie’s read and reread the text more times in the last minute than she can count. Trying to make it say something other than what it says. Trying to make it mean something other than what it means.

She just hopes that, when they find Jess, she’s still breathing.

Mary speeds through another red light, knuckles white on the wheel. She veers around a station wagon that comes out of nowhere, the Impala fishtailing for a second before Mary gets it back under control. Even with the speed, even with the reckless driving, Cassie can’t shake the feeling that they’re already too late.

She flips through the book in her lap, again, not really seeing the cramped black writing that spiders all over the page. She’s long since memorized the exorcism ritual, whispering it under her breath when she lies awake at night, singing it along to the tune of her favourite songs on the radio. Practicing, and hoping.

And waiting.

Now that the day she’s been waiting for so long is finally here, Cassie’s determined not to let her nerves get the best of her. After all, the stakes are a little higher here than the success or failure of a middle-school play. But - it’s hard. It’s been years since the last time she came face-to-face with Dean, or at least with the thing that’s wearing him now. She’d barely made it out alive.

Cassie reaches over into the back seat, twists the thick fabric of the quilt Karen had given them forever ago in one hand. She has to force herself to let it go when she realises she’s wringing it, hard. She’s not sure what popping a seam will do, but now is not the time to find out.

They’re only going to get one shot at this. Cassie plans to make it count.

...

Jess’ vision is starting to tunnel out around the edges when the loud rumble and rattle of an engine pulls up the drive and abruptly dies. Dean turns to look out the window, staring grimly as he edges over to twitch the filmy curtains aside. A painful hope rises in Jess’ throat the longer he stands there, frowning, only to be squashed when Dean flashes that rakish grin back at her.

He straightens the lapels of his battered leather jacket, shakes out both arms with a flick of the wrists. “It’s showtime,” he says, with a wink up at Jess, just as there’s an explosive crash! from the front door.

Mary’s the first to appear in the kitchen doorway, pistol raised, eyes flinty. But she pauses, just for a moment, when she sees Dean, and Jess’ stomach drops. Whoever - whatever - Dean really is, he at least hadn’t lied when he’d said he was Sam’s brother. He’s Mary’s son. And Mary’d just had to watch, helpless, while one of her sons died.

Mary’s going to hesitate. But Jess can already tell that Dean won’t.

By the way Dean's grinning, she can tell he knows it too.

"Well, if it isn't mommy dearest!" Dean says brightly. Mary's eyebrows draw together in a frown as she takes careful aim, and Dean clicks his tongue warningly. "I wouldn't. You shoot me with that popgun, it's Dean who's gonna feel it."

"Get out of him," Mary says, between clenched teeth. She jerks her head in Jess' direction, not taking her eyes or her gun off of Dean. "And let her go."

"Sorry, Mary, Mary, quite contrary, but I don't think I'm gonna do that," Dean - whatever's possessing Dean? - says, with a mock-sad shake of his head. "We had an arrangement. It's not my fault you didn't hold up your end -"

Whatever else he was going to say is cut off abruptly when Cassie crashes through the kitchen window and flings a brightly-coloured quilt over his head.

For a beat, nobody moves.

The laughter that rises from under that quilt is low and dark and horrible. "Really? This is your big plan? How exactly was this supposed to work? It's not like I'm a wild animal you gotta get to the vet -"

There's motion, under the quilt, the top fluffing up like something hit it from underneath. But it doesn't budge.

Dean is perfectly still and dangerously silent under the bright fabric for a moment. Then it explodes with activity, like it's being pummeled from underneath its draping folds, hammered with powerful fists, battered by an unfelt gale. Still, it doesn't so much as slide down to one side. Whatever force was choking Jess slowly eases, as though Dean's concentration is shifting elsewhere, and she gasps down lungfuls of precious air.

"Oh, you sneaky little bitch," Dean says, finally, a note of begrudging respect beside the murderous anger in his voice.

"Portable devil's trap," Cassie says, shaking her dark curls out and taking a deep breath as she flips open a book that looks like it's seen several witch trials and possibly the bottom of a bog. "It's a great idea, I wish I could take all the credit."

"Demons never see it coming," Mary agrees, sharp. "And you're not getting out of there in that body unless the lines break."

Dean chuckles, and it's back to that horrible, dark sound, like he knows something they don't.

" 'That body'?" he says. "Mary, I'm wounded. You don't think of me as your son?"

"Shut up," Mary snaps. She nods in Cassie's direction, and Cassie looks down at the book, begins to read. The words that fall off her tongue sound like Latin to Jess, though she has to admit she's better at reading it than speaking it, and Cassie's going way faster than Jess’ Latin prof. Sounds like something to do with spirits.

Dean's laughter doesn't stop. Low, and rolling, and horrible, it rises from underneath the quilt until it almost drowns out Cassie's voice. She speaks up a little, her pitch rising, and Jess feels - something, that charge in the air again, a wind that isn't a wind whipping her curls around and rattling the cabinets.

Still, the laughter doesn't stop.

It doesn't stop until Cassie spits the last words, and the wind, the rumbling under the floorboards, the strange charge in the air all cut off abruptly like they were never there. The force holding Jess pinned releases all at once, without warning, and she drops, slamming to the kitchen linoleum on hands and knees. Cassie shoots one long, agonised look at the quilt and the shape still under it before she hurries over to crouch beside Jess, setting the book aside to check her over for injuries.

Mary doesn't take her eyes off the quilt at all.

Jess notices it before anyone else does, not that that helps. It's just a split second when that - charge, that electric pressure, jolts back through her like a live wire. Jess tries to scream, though it comes out as more of a strangled cough, clutching her suddenly-throbbing head. It feels like someone drove an ice pick straight through her eye.

And then the quilt bursts into flame.

Cassie shouts, and Mary steps back, and the figure under the quilt burns and burns merrily until the quilt is nothing but ash and a few charred scraps of fabric. Dean doesn't move, just stares Mary down, as the last remnants flake away. For some reason - probably fire being hard enough to summon into existence with your mind without trying to get it to differentiate between different kinds of fabric - Dean's jacket and shirt have also burnt almost completely away, leaving quite a lot of bare chest on display. Jess has just enough presence of mind to realise whatever 'lines' Mary was talking about are almost certainly broken now, before her brain goes back to its stunned loop on how ridiculous it is that they're all frozen in numb horror at the sight of a man who looks like a Calvin Klein ad.

Well, okay, not exactly like a Calvin Klein ad. Any marketing agency would probably have airbrushed out the nasty burn scar just over his heart, the one like a circle with a line slashed partway through it. And the eyes. Yeah, the eyes would probably be a dealbreaker.

"You really should start thinking of me as your son, Mary," Dean says, that crooked, charming smile tugging at his lips. "Because this body's mine. And I don't plan on giving it up any time soon."

Mary moves, but Dean moves faster. With a flick of his wrist, Mary goes flying backwards out of the kitchen, her pistol clattering to the kitchen floor. Jess hears the crash from the hall, and winces. 

Cassie straightens up, reaching behind her for a gun Jess can see tucked into her waistband, but Dean slams her back against the wall with a tilt of his head and a grin.

"Oh, you should hear him in here," he says, sauntering over to Cassie, one hand jammed into the pocket of his slightly-scorched jeans and the other tapping his temple. "Threatening me - real creative ones, too - begging me not to hurt you two."

He smiles like a wolf baring its teeth. "You should've heard him whine when we killed Sammy."

Jess' heart kicks once, painfully, in her chest.

"Don't you call him that," Mary's voice says, from the door. Jess spins, sees her standing, but leaning heavily against the doorframe. There's a trickle of blood working its way down out of her hairline, across her forehead, and she's cradling her right arm close against her body. "Don't you dare call him that. Not with that mouth."

Dean glances back over his shoulder at her, shaking his head as he breaks into a broad, pleasant grin. "What, I can’t give stupid nicknames to my own baby brother?"

"He isn't yours," Mary snaps, and Dean barks out a laugh.

"Oh, Mary, Mary, Mary. How quickly you forget." He waves a hand dismissively at Cassie, flattening her with her arms splayed out, crucifixion-style, against the wall, before taking three heavy, deliberate steps towards Mary. All his attention is fixed on her, their eyes locked in a furious glare. He doesn't notice when Jess reaches out along the floor, stretching an arm out for Mary's dropped pistol. "You broke our deal. Which means -" Dean raises out both arms, palms out, sort of like he's going in for a hug. "Actually, he is."

"And yet you killed him," Mary spits into Dean's face. Jess' fingertips just graze the hilt of the pistol, and she edges forward to wrap her hand around it, taking the chance that, focused as he is on Mary, Dean won't notice the movement in his peripheral vision. "How's that figure into your little plan?"

Dean clicks his tongue disapprovingly in the back of his mouth, shaking his head even as he grins, too wide, too white. "Y'know, I really thought you Winchesters might have started to figure it out by now."

He blinks, and Mary flies straight up in the air, like she's been shot from a cannon, to slam against the kitchen ceiling. Jess is struck by the horrible certainty that she can smell smoke.

Dean's smile is much too self-satisfied, his voice sickeningly smug as he stares up at Mary, pinned like a butterfly on a corkboard. "There's always a plan."

Jess stands, on shaking legs, and fires straight for his heart.

Or, at least, she tries to. But the trigger under her finger just makes a pathetic little clicking noise and refuses to budge.

Dean looks over at her, his expression blank for once, a slight frown furrowing his brow like he's trying to figure out what she's doing. "Trying to kill me with a weapon with the safety on?" He shakes his head. "At least you're pretty."

It's like that heavy electrical charge in the air wraps itself around Jess' hands. She can't feel her fingers as they deftly click something on the handle of the gun, can only watch in horror as her own arms bend at the elbow without her input.

The barrel of the gun is cold under her chin.

Mary shouts something hoarse and angry, and behind her, Jess can hear Cassie struggling, but a little bubble of silence seems to have cocooned her and the gun. She tries to get even just one finger to obey her, to twitch, to wiggle. All she gets for her efforts is a stabbing headache.

"It's so tragic," Dean says, still watching her, unruffled. "You know, officer, she told me herself that she didn't know how to go on without him."

Jess struggles to suck in a breath as her hands wedge the nose of the pistol up into the soft spot under her jaw. She thinks she can feel, through the numbing, buzzing static running up her arms, her index finger starting to depress the trigger. The pain in her head is throbbing in time with her heartbeat, stab, stab, stab directly into her right eye. 

Somewhere in her mind, somewhere she hopes connects to her fingers, with all the strength she has, Jess pushes.

A thunderous expression crosses Dean's face when the gun doesn't go off, when Jess slowly lowers the gun to aim back at him again. It's strange, but that static-charge prickle she'd felt all up her arms is receding, from above her elbows all the way down to her first knuckles.

She's got a clear shot. But before she can pull the trigger, there's...a spark, the static charge releasing from her fingertips, and Dean flinches back.

He blinks, raising his head slowly, like he's waking from a deep sleep, and Jess' breath catches in her throat. For the first time since he'd pinned her to the kitchen wall, his eyes are - they're back to green, and confused, and frightened. Human.

Jess can't move. She stands there, rooted to the spot, staring back at the man staring at her.

Then Dean hisses in a breath between his teeth, one hand flying up to the side of his head as he crumples inwards, squeezing his eyes shut. There's something different about his voice, too, some smoothness or oiliness that Jess had barely even noticed that's suddenly missing, a raw rasp of fear taking its place. "Get the hell out of here - shit - all of you, run! I can't -"

There's a thump as Cassie's boots hit the ground behind Jess, and Mary shouts as she tumbles down, hitting the counter before she collapses to the ground. She groans, pushing herself to her feet with obvious difficulty. Jess takes a slow step backwards, grip tightening on the gun in her hands.

Dean takes a long breath in, straightening up, and Jess takes another step back. The stress and anguish smooth off his face as he rolls his neck from shoulder to shoulder, to be replaced with contempt.

When he opens his eyes again, Jess is totally unsurprised to see they’re back to that sick, poisonous yellow.

“Well, well, well,” he says. “Jessica Moore. Colour me surprised. And here I didn’t even think you were a contender. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you.” He winks. The grin probably would have been charming, under other circumstances.

“How do you know my -” Jess starts, but Dean’s already turned away from her, looking around the kitchen.

“Well, ladies, it’s been a slice,” he says, the last word hissing with ironic emphasis. “But I’ve got things to do, people to see, you know how it goes. What say we call this one a draw?”

Before anyone can move, he snaps his fingers, and a wall of flame erupts from the kitchen floor, hiding him from view.

...

“Karen’s” turns out to be an unassuming little blue house on an unassuming plot of land a little ways outside of a town Jess never would have willingly chosen to visit. A tasteful white wooden sign at the end of the drive, trimmed with the same gingerbread carving that decorates the peak of the roof, identifies it as “Singer’s Curio Cabinet: Antiques & Collectibles”.

Just based on everything that’s happened in the last forty-eight hours, Jess is willing to bet antiques and collectibles aren’t the only things Karen Singer deals in.

Karen herself is a square-faced, stern-looking woman with deep lines etched around her eyes and silver scattered throughout her thick dark hair. She greets Mary and Cassie with a scowl and a shake of her head, letting out an exasperated sigh in response to Cassie’s greeting. “You’d better come in.”

Cassie shoots Jess a look, eyebrows raised, a half-smile half-grimace darting across her face. “Oh, she’s pissed,” she whispers to Jess, as Karen leads them through a huge front room crammed with rusted farm equipment, brass bedsteads and battered dressers, and shelves of old glass bottles and jars with heavy iron keys dangling underneath.

The back of the house looks much more lived-in, though with a similar spirit to the store out front. It’s tastefully decorated, if by somebody whose tastes run a little more to the overstated and rococo than Jess’, but the flocked damask wallpaper and elegant Queen Anne furniture are almost hidden under stacks of books, carved wooden masks, large jars with murky, indistinct contents, tattered fabric dolls, rough wooden stakes, guns and knives in various states of assembly...

Karen motions them in without looking back, walking straight through to the kitchen. Mary follows, and Cassie pauses just long enough for Karen’s voice to float back. “Don’t you girls hang around out there sticking your noses into everything. I won’t be responsible if you get yourselves cursed.”

“Cursed?” Jess asks, and Cassie nods.

“Try not to touch anything.”

“Of course,” Jess mutters to herself, brushing aside a bundle of herbs hung to dry in the kitchen doorway. “Of course now I’m standing in a witch’s cottage in the middle of nowhere. Because things weren’t already weird enough.”

“Karen’s no witch,” Mary says, over her shoulder. “You’ll know a witch when you meet one. Nasty customers.”

Karen’s got her back to them all, still, filling a kettle at the sink. She gives no sign that she’s heard Mary’s comment, her voice clipped and tight as she says, “You went after him again.”

Mary draws in a long breath, lets it out slow.

“Oh boy,” Cassie mutters, edging closer to Jess like that’ll keep the other two women from overhearing. “Here come the fireworks.”

“I’m talkin’ to you too, Cassie Robinson,” Karen says, cranking the tap hard so that the water shuts off abruptly. “We still aren't even sure that Colt you dug up stories on is real, or just a myth. What were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” Mary says, quietly, “that a damn demon has my son.”

“Watch your language in my house, Mary Winchester,” Karen says, like it’s automatic, turning to put the kettle on the stove. Jess gets the feeling that that’s a remnant of an old argument, the kind that’s never really resolved.

“It’s not strong language, it’s an accurate description,” Mary says, equally automatically, stepping around the little round table in the middle of the kitchen floor. “Karen, please. He went after Sam. What was I supposed to do?”

Karen slams the kettle down on the heavy black range with a metallic bang that makes Jess jump. She stands with her back to them all for another moment, her shoulders rising and falling with a long, deep breath, before turning around. Jess takes a step back at the sight of her face.

“You were supposed to have some kind of a backup plan,” she says, her voice cracking, before she clears her throat, her frown growing deeper as she pulls herself back under control. “You were supposed to let me know where you were going, what you were going after. You were supposed to do anything other than put yourself and an innocent kid in harm’s way without any real plan and without knowing what you were getting into!” 

Mary says nothing, and Karen cuts herself off with an angry harrumph, shaking her head as she turns back to the stove. She turns the burner on with a sharp yank, the sudden fwoosh of fire making Jess’ heart leap into her throat. “And Cassie! I thought you knew better than this.”

“Sorry, Karen. Everything happened so fast -” Cassie starts, but Mary interrupts her.

“And who says we don’t know what we’re dealing with?”

“Do you know what that symbol you told me Dean had on his chest is?” Karen demands. “Because I do. That’s an anchor. Your demon’s got its grubby claws dug right into Dean’s flesh. You won’t be able to budge it unless you can break that symbol, and it’d be suicide just to try to get that close.”

“So it’s suicide,” Mary says, soft, dangerous. Cassie shoots her a startled look.

Karen sags back against the counter, the anger draining from her face. She suddenly looks very old, and very tired.

“Don’t be a fool, Mary. You know neither of those boys’d want you doing something like that. And Dean’d never forgive himself if you got hurt trying to save him. Especially not if he was the one that hurt you.”

For a moment, Mary looks like she’s going to argue, before deflating herself.

“Well, what about me?” Cassie protests. “What am I here, chopped liver?” She glares from Karen to Mary. “I’m not some stupid kid who tagged along for kicks, I’m not some job you just have to protect until the monster’s dead, okay? I told you. I’m in this.” She sucks in a deep breath. The fire drains out of her voice, leaving it small and surprisingly vulnerable as she says, “Let me help. I want him back too. Even if it’s just for long enough to tell him I’m sorry.”

Silence settles over the kitchen, thick and gloomy as an autumn fog. 

“Maybe there’s another way,” Jess says, startling even herself. “Something happened, back at school, when Dean -”

“The demon,” Cassie corrects her, firmly.

“When that...demon tried to make me shoot myself,” Jess continues. She almost can’t believe the words coming out of her own mouth. Surely this is all a nightmare and she just fell asleep on the couch after one too many episodes of Buffy. “I - it wasn’t easy, but I resisted it. Somehow. There was, like, a spark. And for a second afterwards, I think...Dean was back in the driver’s seat.”

She swallows, hard, in the teeth of the stares all three turn towards her.

“You’re right,” Cassie says, slowly, at last. “I thought maybe I was just seeing what I wanted to see, but -”

“Is that what all that about being a contender was about?” Mary asks. Jess shakes her head. 

“No, honestly, that stuff stumped me too. But - maybe, if I can figure out what I did and how I did it -”

But Karen’s shaking her head. “Jess, right? It’s sweet of you to offer, Jess, but even if you knew what you were getting into, that just sounds like a trap. Demons lie. They’re excellent actors.”

Jess bites down on her bottom lip, trying not to let Sam’s accusing stare fill her vision again. “Like Cassie said. I want to help. Please, if I can do something -”

“All right.” Karen crosses her arms over her chest. “Let’s say it was real. Do you even know how to do it again?”

Jess rolls her lower lip between her teeth, considering how to respond.

Karen snorts. “Didn’t think so. No. That’s too much of a wild card to bet our lives on.”

Cassie shakes her head, her eyes blazing. “So then what? Are we just supposed to sit around here and - crochet doilies while that thing roams around hurting people, wearing the man I love like a cheap suit -”

Karen fixes her with a steely look, and Cassie bites off her own tirade with a scowl.

“I think we all know what we’re supposed to do here,” Karen says, shifting that penetrating look from Cassie to Mary. “At this point, Dean’s as much of a lost cause as Sam. We gotta focus on getting rid of that demon before it can do any more damage.”

She pauses a moment, eyes locked with Mary’s. “Whatever that takes.”

“You’re asking me to kill my own son,” Mary says, her voice so icy Jess could swear the temperature in the room drops several degrees.

Karen shakes her head. “I know you want to hope, Mary, but - Dean wouldn’t want you to let this go on this way. That thing used him to kill his own brother, for the love of all things holy! You can’t tell me he wouldn’t want you to end this.”

“Maybe this isn’t about what Dean would or wouldn’t want,” Mary says, gripping the back of the chair in front of her so hard her knuckles go white on the carved wood.

“Don’t I know it,” Karen mutters, and there’s a hint of contempt in her voice. “Listen, I know this is hard as anything, I know you still want to salvage what you can outta all this hurt, but - sometimes you just gotta do what needs to be done.” Jess is suddenly and immensely glad not to be on the receiving end of Karen’s laser stare. “Sam knew that. You know Dean knows that -”

“Did Bobby?”

The two words ring in the sudden silence like a slap. Karen looks stricken, like Mary had just reached out and shoved her against the hot stove. Mary herself looks horrified by the words that had come out of her own mouth, horrified and a little sick.

The silence slowly turns to a high-pitched whistle as the kettle boils. Karen reaches out to turn the burner off, turning her back to Mary with what looks to Jess like enormous effort, pulling chipped china and plain tea bags from the cupboard beside the stove. 

Finally, she turns back to the rest of the kitchen. Her expression is back to an echo of its former no-nonsense toughness, though she still looks very white. “For the sake of our friendship, I’m gonna pretend you didn’t just say that,” she says, heavily, and Mary nods, once, eyes flicking down towards her boots.

“Who...” Cassie starts, but looks around the room and seems to decide against it. Jess agrees with her. She’s burning with questions, but - there’s a time and a place.

“I just - you know I can’t just let that demon win,” Mary says, and there’s a pleading note in her voice that Jess has never heard before. The steel seeps back into it, though, as Mary says, “He can’t have them. Either of them.”

Karen takes a breath in, closing her eyes as she lets it out in a long sigh. “You better not be saying what I think you’re saying.” She opens her eyes, a rueful expression settling onto her face and softening the severity of her frown, before taking a step around the table towards Mary. “Look, maybe I can’t know what this is like for you, but I think I got an inkling. And they might not be my sons, but -”

“You’re right,” Mary says, shortly, stepping back. “They’re not your sons.”

She turns, and stalks out of the kitchen, out into the antique shop. A moment later, the merry jingle of a bell and the slam of a door tell everyone inside that Mary Winchester has left the building.

“Don’t be a damned fool, Mary!” Karen shouts after her retreating back, and Cassie gives her a wide-eyed look. Karen shrugs one shoulder, turning back to the tea things. “She’s right, though don’t you dare tell her I said that. 's not foul language when it’s an accurate description.”

Cassie shakes her head, brow furrowing in confusion. “What do you -” She stops. “ ‘Either of them’. Oh god.”

She nearly pushes over the table as she sprints out of the kitchen, calling Mary’s name. Jess listens to the sound of her footsteps drumming against floorboards until they fade off the porch.

When she looks back, Karen’s watching her with a pinched smile. “Sorry you had to hear all that.”

Jess shrugs. She’s painfully aware of how inadequate anything she could say might be.

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, she settles on, “Do you really think - what happened back at the house, it was just a trick? You don’t think I really have some kind of - freakish demon-banishing power?” 

She doesn’t add, you don’t think I’m trapped in this nightmare because somehow this nightmare’s trapped inside me. She doesn’t add, you don’t think that maybe there really was something I could have done, something that could have saved Sam, if only I’d known about it before it was too late. She doesn’t add, you don’t think that it could somehow have been my fault.

Karen gives her a searching look, like she can hear everything Jess didn’t say anyway.

“I think that thing wanted to hurt Mary as bad as it could,” she says, at last. “And I think it knew she was too close on its tail. I think, just then, giving her false hope that her boy’s still in there would’ve saved its sorry hide, and was the meanest thing it could’ve done to her.”

Jess lets out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding, feeling tension seep from her shoulders. She tucks a lock of hair back behind one ear, matching Karen’s smile with one of her own. “You know, I think I’m finally starting to understand why Sam always hated Halloween.”

Karen snorts out a surprised laugh, almost choking on it. She pauses to catch her breath, giving Jess the first glimpse of a genuine smile Jess has seen her wear. It’s...nice. Warm. It transforms her entire face, somehow, makes it less stern and more motherly.

“Oh, don’t we all,” Karen says. “Well, welcome to the club. I wish I could say that it’s all uphill from here.” She turns back to the tea things on the counter, pulling the teabags from the pot and laying out flowered cups on matching saucers. “You want something to eat? I baked up a pie this morning.”

Despite everything, Jess can’t help but smile.

“I could go for pie,” she says.

[sis-tafics]

Break a Little - Part Nine

Summary: Dean’s deal is coming due and you are powerless to stop it

SERIES MASTERLIST

Jill’s Masterlist

Characters: Alpha!Reader, Beta!Sam, Omega!Dean

Pairings: Alpha!Reader x Omega!Dean

Word Count: 2800

Warnings: language, smut, fighting, self hate, angst, a/b/o dynamics

A/N: This is my first A/B/O series and I would love any feedback. I took some creative leeway on some of this. Thank you to @crispychrissy for giving me a huge confidence boost and looking this over. 

Also the Song I half based this on (LINK HERE) is a must listen. I don’t know, it just gives me angsty feels

He sighs, “I wish like hell I wasn’t.”

Your heart breaks in your chest, you can’t breathe, you can barely get the words out, “You wish you weren’t my Omega?”

Those words don’t feel right coming out of your mouth, they taste like poison, they feel like you are going to fall apart.

His sad green eyes meet yours, rimmed in red, the tears right at the edge, “Yes.”

It feels like everything is getting ripped away, like someone is tearing you in half, “Dean, I-I can’t, we are-...”

“Soulmates? Yeah, and I wish like hell I wasn’t putting you through this. I wish I wasn’t your Omega so you didn’t have to. I don’t want this for you, I want you to be hap-”

“That’s my job,” you cut him off, “it’s my job to protect you and keep you safe, and not let anything happen and I failed.”

He half laughs, “Do you think for a second we would be mates if it were that one sided?”

You look down at the ground, feeling hopeless and empty instead of pissed, “No.”

“Y/N, I’ve seen what it does to an Alpha to lose an Omega, I saw my dad go through it when he lost my mom, and they weren’t even like us... And knowing that I’m going to put you through that? I can’t even look at myself in the damn mirror.”

“Dean,” you whisper, closing the distance between you. He can’t meet your eyes, even when you place your hands on either side of his face, “Look at me Omega.”

His chest shudders and slowly his eyes meet yours, full of guilt and shame. You run your thumbs over the stubble, “Do you really think I could belong to anyone else?”

He half smiles, pressing his forehead against yours, “I just want you to be okay.”

“I know Dean. I will be because I’m not going to lose you. I belong with you, I’m your Alpha.”

He catches your lips with his, kissing you firmly and you can physically feel it, his want, his need to believe your words in the way his lips move. His desperation makes your gut hurt and your heart pound.

“C’mon,” he mumbles against your lips, his fingers sliding with yours, pulling you towards the car.

Dean opens the back door, holding it open while you crawl in before him. You barely make it on the seat before his warm body is against you, the door slamming shut.

For the first time in your life, you feel shy, small, maybe just a little afraid as Dean touches your face. No one has ever, ever touched you as gently as Dean does, no one’s ever looked at you like him, like you’re the only thing in the world.

“De-...”

“Shh,” he whispers, his fingers running along the edges of your shirt as he rests his forehead against yours, “let me.”

His fingers slip under the edge of your shirt, tugging it up your body, tossing it to the floor. You push at his flannel, trying to get it off his shoulders as he presses hot kisses down your neck and over your chest.  

You moan low, Dean pushing you back against the cool leather. He pulls his t-shirt over his head and that’s the only moment his hands leave your body. You pull him down, your fingers tangling in his short hair, pressing your lips to his.

He groans, deep in his chest as he shoves your jeans down your legs, helping you kick them off, you pushing his off his waist, exposing his skin, fumbling in the confined space until you are both naked against one another.

Dean kisses your bare skin and your fingers press into his as you grind against each other, his cock hard against your pussy, the head bumping your clit, making you whimper underneath him.

“Dean,” you moan, begging him for more. And you don’t know what the fuck you are doing, you don’t beg, you don’t plead, fuck, you don’t whimper when you need something. But then again, you’ve never made love with someone and you get the feeling that is exactly what this is.

Hell, you’ve never loved anyone.

But fuck, you love Dean.

And he’s so sweet, and tender you swear you go into shock, you must because you freeze solid as he slides into you and bottoms out, stretching you in the most perfect way that only he can.

“Y/N?” His nose brushes against yours as he looks worriedly over your face, “Alpha?”

You’re not breathing, you can’t, you’re going to lose him, the only good thing you’ve ever had. No one is ever going to touch you like this again, no one is ever going to look at you like that, you’re never going to love someone like this.

He brushes your hair away from your face, “Everything is going to be okay.”

You shake your head back and forth, trying to bury the tears. No it’s not, you should be comforting him, you shouldn’t be breaking apart.

He catches your chin, making you look at him, “I’m going to make everything okay, starting with what I should have done the first time.”

His hips rock, his cock dragging almost all the way out before he pushes himself back in your fluttering pussy, his pelvic bone pressing against your clit. You shake around him as he fills you up, your legs trembling as he pushes your thighs farther apart.

“Dean...Omega,” you moan against his skin, his sweat mixing with yours, his warm body grounding you in the back seat of the Impala, the rest of the world fading away as your hips move to meet his. There is nothing for you except for him.

He moves slowly, deliberately, his hips thrusting as your moans mix with his, your lips barely leaving each others. Dean drives you higher, each time he pushes into you his cock hits that spot that makes you insane.

“Alpha,” he growls low, his lips moving along your jaw and down your neck, your entire body shaking as his thrusts become more desperate, a little erratic.

You hold tight to his broad shoulders, every part of you filled with this slow burn that leaves you trembling underneath him, “D-Dean…”

“Shh,” his teeth scrape your neck, nipping as he works his way down to where it meets your shoulder. You whimper as he touches the skin there, his warm breath fanning over it as you feel the pressure build in your lower belly.

His hips rock harder, the sound of skin on wet skin filling the small space as your contracting pussy makes it harder and harder for him to move. You want him buried in you so bad, you need it.

He grunts, your walls clenching around him as you teeter on the edge, his cock throbbing inside you. Dean thrust forward hard, his teeth sinking into your flesh, claiming you as his, and you come undone around him, your back arching off the leather as you call out for him.

Dean spills inside of you, his cock jumping in your fluttering pussy that holds him deep within you, knotting him as he collapses on top of you, his weight warm and welcome. You continue to shake and tremble underneath him, the intensity of what just happened taking you over and leaving your brain a little fuzzy.

Dean’s lips move against you, around his bite mark as he flips the two of you to your sides, you between his large body and the back of the seat, your leg hooked high over his hip. His fingers trace your face and you can’t look away from his olive eyes in the dim moonlight.

You touch his chin, feeling the stubble under your fingertips and never in your life have you felt more at ease than you do in this moment, “My Omega.”

He smiles, turning his head so he can press his lips to your palm, “My Alpha.”

Dean reaches behind him to the floor, pulling an old blanket over the two of you, neither able to go anywhere for awhile, not that you would if you could. You let him wrap his arms around you and you nuzzle your face against his claiming mark. Dean mirrors you, pressing his nose against yours.

And in that moment you truly believe everything is going to be alright. You are going to save Dean.

_______

Two days left and you don’t believe it anymore. You’ve been ass deep in demon blood and guts trying to find the son of a bitch, trying to get Dean off the hook, but nothing, not a damn thing.

The one tied to the chair in front of you, Dean’s got no idea about, and you aren’t going to answer your phone that keeps buzzing in your pocket either.

“Take me instead!” You insist as the blood drips to the floor. If you can’t get rid of the contract, you aren’t going to let Dean die, you can’t. You’re going to die without him anyways so why not give him a chance?

“No can do,” it gurgles, spitting out the blood that has pooled in its mouth.

You want to punch it again but you know it isn’t going to do any good. The thing’s face is swollen beyond recognition and your knuckles are split open, “Let me trade spots, you’re still getting a fucking soul.”

“I can’t do that! I don’t hold the contract.”

You bury the knife in your hand into its side, the blade sliding through the resistance of tissue making you feel better as it bounces off one of his ribs, letting the sensation get you back in control, “Then give me who fucking does, call ‘em up.”

“I can’t do that!” It screams as you twist the knife a quarter turn, holding the demon still, making it take it.

“Name, asshole!” You shout, sticking your thumb into an earlier wound hard, the thing thrashing around in pain. It goes on and on like this for hours until you are too angry to deal with him anymore, and leave it in the devil's trap, not even bothering to exorcise it.

It’s not a long drive back to the shabby motel the three of you are staying at and when Dean’s eyes meet yours, you know he knows what you have been up to, but he doesn’t say anything. He just closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest.

“It’s okay Y/N,” he whispers in your ear, “we’ve still got some time.”

“It’s only two days Dean,” you can feel yourself start to go numb again, it’s been happening more and more lately. You get so pissed that something inside you snaps and you just can’t feel anything.

Sam clears his throat from the table. He’s worked with you over the last weeks, just like he promised, hell, he’s almost been the Sam you remember from before, “What’s our next play?”

You let go of Dean, shaking your head, “I don’t know.”

“I’m only finding stuff that can hold them off, nothing permanent.” He mutters, shutting the book in front of him, “I’m supposed to call Bobby soon and see what he’s found.”

You nod, the nights of no sleep catching up to you, “I’m going to cleanup and crash for an hour or two.”

In the bathroom you get a quick shower, enough to wash the blood out of your hair and off your skin. By the time you’re dressed and back in the room, the boys are packing their bags. Dean hears you, glancing your way, “We are going to head to Bobby’s, he says he’s got a lead.”

“Okay,” you grip his arm as you pass, it meant to be a reassuring gesture to him but he wraps his arm around you, pulling you to his chest and kissing the top of your head. You don’t miss the grimace from Sam.

“This one is going to work,” Dean whispers in your ear, but his voice doesn’t sound right. It’s forced, like he’s trying to sound hopeful for your sake.

“Let’s just get moving,” you swallow hard, grabbing your bag and heading for the door, trying to push down the anger. You’re so pissed, but you aren’t mad at anyone but yourself and how miserably you have failed.

You spend the entire ride sitting in the front next to Dean, staring out the window then at him, trying not to fall asleep until you finally do.

“Y/N,” Dean shakes you lightly and you jump, looking around, your heart pounding in your chest. You look around, the familiar house that you haven’t seen since you were little standing there. You haven’t seen Bobby in probably fifteen years, maybe more. All your memories are just being dropped here while your parents went hunting.

Sam takes off for the porch steps, it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand. The only reason you keep control is Dean doesn’t push, he stays right with you, a half a step behind.

Bobby opens the door and he looks just like you remember him, hell, you think that might be the same baseball cap. He pulls Sam into a bear hug before looking at you and Dean, “Hey kid, it’s been awhile.”

You nod, “Hi Bobby.”

Anyone else would have moved to hug you, make the mistake and you wonder why he doesn’t. Then you realize you’d moved in front of Dean, keeping yourself between him and the other two, your stance unintentionally protective.

“Sorry,” you mumble, taking a half step to the side, crossing your arms in front of you.

He looks curiously between you and Dean, his eyes coming back to you, “I told your folks what you were gonna be and they didn’t believe me. It’s not like shippin’ you off was going to change a damn thing.”

“Wish they would have believed you,” you mumble, and Dean wraps his arm around your waist.

“Well, c’mon in, I’ve got some stuff in the basement that should help us out.”

Sam and Bobby lead the way, talking. Dean’s fingers slide in yours, holding tight the whole way through the house. It’s a little weird, but you just chalk it up to the fact that he’s getting down to the deadline, he’s holding on, and fuck, you wish like hell he didn’t have to feel this way.

You just want him to feel safe.

“Balls,” Bobby stops dead, “I forgot a book upstairs, just go through that door, I got everything set up.”

Sam watches Bobby head back towards the stairs and you go ahead, letting go of Dean to grab the heavy metal door, walking first into the circular room that looks more like a dungeon than a place for research.

“I’m sorry,” Dean whispers and you jump around at the metallic clank, the door shutting heavily, a bolt sliding.

“Dean?” You shout, rushing over, trying the handle but it won’t move, “Dean!”

Your breaths come in short gasps, full panic setting in, “Dean! What’s going on? Dean!”

“Y/N,” his voice sounds choked and there is a small slot you can look through. He’s standing right on the other side, his face drawn and strained, his mouth moving like he can’t find words.

“Dean, let me out,” your panic slowly turning to anger.

“No, I-I’m not going to let you die too.”

“Dean, I’m not,” you pound your fists off the metal, “it’s going to be okay...Let me out goddammit!”

“I can’t,” he struggles.

“Let me out Omega!” You scream, clawing at the door, pulling the handle.

Dean flinches, and Sam grabs him, keeping him from doing it, “You wanted her safe, this is how she is.”

“Sam,” your anger turns to him, “you fucker, let me out. I can save him.”

But he ignores you, still talking to Dean, “She will kill herself trying to save you if you let her out.”

“If you don’t let me out he will die,” but your words are lost as a tear slides down Dean’s cheek. He swallows hard, but nods firmly, turning his back and walking away.

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[katymacsupernatural]

Magnetic Chapter 10: Awkward

Dean Winchester x Reader:

1500 Words

Chapter Summary: After you initiated the kiss, you waited for Dean’s reaction, hoping you hadn’t messed up your entire relationship. 

Story Summary:  After your Dad was killed, you were shocked to learn all about his hidden life. Deciding to follow in his footsteps, you turn to a life of hunting, surprised at how well you adapted. Then comes along Sam and Dean Winchester, turning your life upside down. You and Dean don’t get along at first, but then things soon start to change.

Catch Up here: Masterpost

Dean's lips were everything you imagined they would be, even though you shouldn't have been thinking about them. They were plump, and soft, and he knew how to move them with precision. At first his lips were frozen against yours, and you were worried he would pull away in disgust. But then, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you tighter to his chest. Angling  his head, he deepened the kiss, a growl sounding low in his throat.

Your hands wrapped around his neck, and you took the opportunity to pull his full lower lip between your teeth, gently nibbling on it. It drove him crazy, and you could feel his tongue sweeping across your lip, silently asking for entrance.

"Hey, where is everyone?" Sam yelled from the front of the hotel room, and you and Dean broke apart, breathing hard. Staring hard at you for a moment, he turned on his heels, heading out to Sam, leaving you alone in the bathroom, a finger on your lips. Wondering what had just happened, and how it would change things. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath, before moving back out into the main room to be with Sam and Dean. Sam was surveying the broken bathroom door, turning to Dean with a raised eyebrow.

"What? The idiot locked himself in, then was being drowned in the toilet. No matter how much I couldn't stand the guy, he didn't deserve to go that way." Dean argued.

"I take it the bones were easy to find." You said, moving to sit at the table, feeling off centered, as if you had to force your body to be normal right now. You could feel both sets of eyes on you, and when you glanced back up, you saw Dean was wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. A lip that had just been between your teeth.

"Of course." Sam said, pulling your attention away from his brother's mouth. "The cemetery was only a block away thankfully, and it was small. Easy to find, easy to burn. The ghost was too worried about what was happening back here. Speaking of which, what happened to your head? Is that blood?"

You gingerly reached behind you, touching the back of your head that was a little sore, surprised to see your hand come away slightly bloody. "Oh. It must have happened when the ghost knocked me into the bathtub."

"Let me see!" Dean said, rushing forward, surprising his brother. With gentle hands, he moved your hair to the side, and you hissed when he pressed against the spot. "I think you must have just hit a rough tile or something. There's not much of a goose egg or anything. Just a little slice. But you know how head wounds are, bleed like a stuck pig. You'll be good." Dean said, pressing a towel against it, making it sting.

"What exactly happened while I was gone?" Sam asked, staring between you and his brother. You were both acting a little awkward, a little uneasy around each other, your kiss the elephant in the room. A kiss that could change the whole dynamic of your group.

"That idiot tried to drown in the shower. Y/N and I saved him, and he took off. And I'm glad he's gone." Dean said, checking to make sure your wound had stopped bleeding. Satisfied, he sat down, in a chair a little closer to you.

Sam narrowed his eyes, still not buying the whole story, but he let it drop. "It looks like we solved the case. Actually a lot easier than I imagined. Way to go Y/N. How did you know he was a part of it?"

"I didn't actually. He sat next to me at the bar, and wanted to talk." You told Sam, a headache forming.

You heard Dean scoff next to you. "I don't think talking was all he had in mind."

"Shut up." You answered, and Sam laughed in response.

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'm calling it a night. And I'm taking this bed. You two can figure out your sleeping arrangements." Sam said, before making his way into the bathroom, leaning the door against the frame for some sort of privacy. It made you laugh, and with a smile on your face you focused your attention on Dean, to see him staring your way with an unreadable expression on his face.

"What?" You asked softly, watching as he eyes drifted down to your lips before coming back to land on your e/c eyes.

"Nothing." He said, suddenly standing up and moving towards the other bed. Sighing, you looked at the couch, thinking he had called dibs on the bed. The couch was short, barely long enough for two people to sit on, let alone one person to lay down on it comfortably. Looking longingly at the bed, you pulled the grimy comforter off, planning for a night of uncomfortable sleeping. "What are you doing?" Dean suddenly asked you, in the middle of pulling his flannel off.

You watched as his muscles flexed underneath his t-shirt, the cotton riding up a little bit to expose his lower stomach. "Y/N?" He said again, and you jerked your eyes up to his face, his knowing smirk telling you he caught you red handed.

"Getting the couch ready." You answered, hoping your voice was calm and didn't betray you and the fact you had been checking him out. Or secretly wishing he would come over and kiss you again.

"You're not sleeping on the couch." He said, before bending over to undo his jeans. Once again, your eyes wavered from his face, down to where his hands were busy undoing his belt.

"It seems like, um... It's the only other option. Sam called that one, and..." You stuttered, waving your hands to this bed.

"That couch isn't fit to sleep on. You'll share with me." He stated, pulling his jeans down his legs, his strong bow legs taking your attention off of what he was saying.

"I'm sharing with you?" You repeated, just as Sam came out of the bathroom, stopping dead in his tracks at your words.

"Yeah. It's a big enough bed." Dean said, before making his way into the bathroom, leaving you alone with his brother.

Sam watched Dean leave, before turning to you again. "Are you sure nothing happened between you and Dean. You guys seem...different."

You just shrugged your shoulders, grabbing your tank top and shorts from your bag, before heading into the bathroom that Dean had just vacated. Quickly you changed, today's activities exhausting you. Throwing your clothes on top of your bag, you made your way to the bed. A bed that Dean was already lounging in, his head resting on his arm, as he lay on his back. He watched you with heavily guarded eyes. You glanced quickly at Sam, who was already sound asleep on his stomach, his arms and legs sprawled, making the full size bed seem like a twin.

Grabbing the edge of the blanket, you slid in, just as Dean reached over to turn off the lights. Once the room was bathed in darkness, you turned to your side, trying to find a comfortable spot while hugging the edge of the mattress.

You heard fumbling, and cussing, before Dean spoke next to your ear. "I promise I'm not going to bite. At least only if you want me to. You can scoot closer. Hell, you can even use me as a pillow if you want, I don't mind."

You turned over to face him, feeling him wrap his arm around you and pull you closer until your head was using his chest as a pillow. It felt normal and amazing, but awkward at the same time, and you weren't sure where to place your hand, or what to say. "Dean, are we going to talk about that kiss?" You said quietly, not wanting a sleeping Sam to wake up.

"We don't have to. Kisses happen all the time." He said, his voice sounding sleepy.

"I know they do. But hell, you and I couldn't even stand each other a day ago. And now we've shared a pretty hot kiss." You said, feeling his arm tighten around you.

"It was hot, wasn't it?" He answered. "I don't know what to say. I enjoyed it, and hope that we can do it again sometime soon." He answered playfully.

You swatted him on the chest. "But, I don't want it to mess up anything. We've just started working well together."

He sighed. "It will only mess things up if you let it. And I don't plan on letting it. So, it happened, and it will probably happen again. And I'm okay with that. Now go to sleep." He ordered, and you closed your eyes, leaving your hand resting on his chest.

Soon, the rhythm of his chest lulled you, and you pulled a Scarlet O'Hara, promising to think about it tomorrow. Right now you wanted to bask in the fact that you were cuddled into Dean's side.

Read Next: Chapter 11

Tags: @generalgoldfishldrm

[bamby0304]

With Wolves- Ch.31

Series Masterlist

Bamby’s Masterlist

Summary: Known as The Omen, your reputation puts fear in some of the most dangerous and deadly Alphas. So when you’re caught and sent to the worst maximum security facility unknown to man, no one expected an unclaimed Omega to walk through the gates in shackles and an orange jumpsuit. Word circulates, and before long there’s a price on your head. Who will claim the untamed Omega?

A/N: Because this is the last chapter… I’ve made it extra long for you guys :) thank you @crispychrissy & @sculptorofbeginnings for looking this over for me, and all your help throughout the story xx

Warnings: Explicit language. A/B/O dynamics. Time jump. Smut. Kitchen indecencies. Lactation kink. Breeding kink. Heat. Rut. Thigh Riding. Praise kink. Dirty talk. Masturbation. Voyeurism. Threesome. Fingering. Oral (male receiving). Anal fingering. Unprotected sex. Double penetration. Anal. Squirting. Fluff.

Bamby

The roar of the Impala filled your ears, a welcome hum that lightly shook the cabin’s walls. You paused what you were doing, dropping the knife onto the chopping board before turning to move to the front door. Hurried feet stampeded through the house, beating you as two children rushed outside.

Babbling drew your attention down to your seven month old. The smile on your face grew as you bent down to pick her up into your arms before you followed the others, heading out onto the porch. Coming to a stop, you stood and waited as the sleek black car- Dean’s first love- rolled to a stop.

Both Winchesters filed out, with Castiel not too far behind. The three had been away for just over two weeks, busy on a job states away. It was good to see them together and whole.

Sam and Dean’s gaze landed on you in an instant, their instincts drawing them to you. But first, there were others they had to greet.

“Dad!”

“Yay!”

“Daddy!”

“Uncle Cas!”

Your four older children hurried over to the three men, throwing themselves at them. You continued to watch as your smile grew, taking in the sight of your children and Alphas embracing.

Years had passed since you found your freedom.

Almost exactly nine months after you settled into your cabin, you had your first pup. Kevin, named after the man who brought you to your Alphas, and who died saving your life. You’d never forget the Beta, and thanked him every day when you looked into the eyes of your first son.

When your daughter was born nine months later, it was a blessing. The pregnancy had been a rough one, and at one stage there had been doubt you’d both survive. Complications meant you had to induce your labour six weeks early, but Gabriella fought through it, showing just how tough she was. Green eyes and a full head of luscious hazelnut locks, she had both her dads wrapped around her pinky the second she was born.

The twins came 14 months after, a bounding pair of energy. Bobby and Benny, two rough and tough boys that spent their days wrestling in the mud. Despite having beds, they slept on the floor, which seemed completely normal with how wild they were. There was no doubt in your mind that they would grow up to be Alphas- though you, Sam and Dean would be sure to raise them so they would become respectful and not pigheaded.

The youngest of the group was Rue, born 11 months after the twins. A small girl with untameable brown hair and big hazel eyes, she was a handful, always so determined to go exploring. Luckily, she refused to go anywhere alone. Rue was all about her family, and stuck to her siblings, your Alphas, Uncle Cas, or you no matter what.

Beaming down at the kids, Sam picked up Gabby before he and Dean started towards you. At the back of the group was Cas, struggling to fend off your three sons as they tugged on his signature trench coat, each of them eagerly trying to get his attention.

Hopping up the stairs before his brother, Sam leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek. “Hey.”

“Hi.” You blushed, turning to catch his lips in a sweet kiss.

“Dad,” Gabby whined, wriggling out of her father’s grasp. “Come on! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!”

Chuckling against your lips, Sam pulled away and gave you a small smile before looking to Rue. You handed her over, watching with a fond look in your eyes as he headed inside, following his other daughter.

“What are they up to?” Dean asked as he stepped closer.

You shrugged. “The girls and Kev have been busy in the attic for a few days now. Won’t let me up there to see. But Benny and Bobby assured me there’s nothing dangerous up there.”

“If there was, they’d be helping,” Dean noted with a grin, leaning in to kiss you.

Unlike Sam’s kiss, Dean’s was a little more heated. He stepped forward, moving to rest his hands on your hips so he could pull you in until his chest was flush with yours. A warmth spread over your skin. It wasn’t odd to feel flushed and turned on by Dean, but there was something more to it in that moment.

Before you could explore the feeling, a sigh had the two of you turning.

Cas stood at the bottom of the porch steps with a frustrated look on his face. “Your children seem to be attached to me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t like it, Cas,” Dean chuckled as he moved to your friend’s side and peeled Benny off his back. “Come on, boys. Show me what you’ve been up to while we’ve been gone.”

“Yeah!” all three of your boys cheered as they followed Dean into the house.

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” you called out to them.

Cas cleared his throat, drawing your attention to him. “I should go and rest. Crowley made a comment that suggested he might have another job in a couple of days.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” You nodded, gesturing over your shoulder. “Your place is still there, clean and ready for you.”

He offered you a smile and short nod. “Thank you.”

As Cas walked off, heading around the cabin to the small granny flat you’d had installed out the back, you watched. It was nice having him around, having him close. While he had no claim on you or your family, he was still part of your pack. After everything you’d been through, it wouldn’t feel right to be away from Cas. He deserved to have somewhere to call home, and people to call pack.

***

You were back in the kitchen, chopping away at some vegetables for dinner. It was hard getting a bunch of borderline Neanderthals to eat anything that hadn’t either come from an animal or was an animal, but you tried your best. Dean didn’t exactly make it any easier, with his love for red meat.

Hands slid around your waist as Dean leaned in to scent you. A hum reverberated through his chest as his hands began to explore.

“Missed you.”

“I’m sure you did,” you grinned turning to look at him over your shoulder. “But I’ve got hungry children to feed, so you can miss me a little longer.”

Groaning, he pressed himself against you, rutting his hardening cock into your ass. “But I’m hungry.” His hands slid up to tug on your top until your bra was exposed.

Breath hitching in your throat, you froze as a tingling of pleasure came over you. Dean plucked and pulled on your nipples, looking over your shoulder to watch as a bead of milk formed. In the corner of your eye, you could see him licking his lips.

“Just a taste, baby,” he whispered as he moved around to wedge himself between you and the counter.

Helpless to his advances, you stood there and watched as he leaned down to suck at your nipple. When the familiar throb started in your breast, you stared at Dean with wonder and lust as he drank greedily.

Before you’d had babies, Dean had teased and hinted at wanting to taste you, but never had you thought he’d go through with it. The second you started lactating, he couldn’t help himself. You’d expected him to be grossed out, you’d expected to hate it yourself… but there was something erotic about it…

“Guys,” Sam walked into the kitchen, finding his brother latched onto your breast. “Kids could walk in at any moment.”

Pulling away from you, Dean wiped the corner of his mouth with the pad of his thumb as he gave a shrug. “We’ll just tell them the truth… Daddy was hungry.” He grinned wolfishly.

As his eyes turned back to you, taking in the sight of your breasts as they remained bare, you groaned. The lust you felt was only growing as a familiar warmth spread through you.

“Alphas…” You leaned into Dean while turning to give Sam a pleading look.

Sam watched you carefully, reading you. “Fuck. You’re going into heat.” His eyes flickered to Dean as he began to grind against you. “And you’re going into rut.”

“Already there, Sammy,” Dean grunted as he leaned in to nip at your throat. “I’ve been desperate to fuck her since last night. Just better at hiding it than you are.”

“Right,” Sam scoffed, clearly not agreeing.

If Dean had been in rut last night, Sam would have driven him home right away, and they would have come back covered in blood. The effects of the drugs you and Dean were given while locked away meant if you didn’t fuck while in heat or rut, your bloodlust took over. Sam hadn’t gone through what you and his brother had, but he was still affected. Your heats still called out to his Alpha, and nothing got him hotter than seeing you clawing at his brother while Dean fucked you senseless.

Continuing to nip and suck at your neck, Dean gradually began to move lower, heading for your breasts. Your head fell back as a needy moan spilled from your lips. The scent you’d smelled on Dean before was the beginning his rut, and had triggered your heat. You’d been away from your Alphas for far too long… you needed them.

“Sam,” you whimpered, turning your head to look at him.

He gave a short nod. “I’ll get the kids to go harass Cas. Dean, take her to the bedroom.”

Not needing to be told twice, Dean suddenly pulled back and lifted you over his shoulder. You gave a surprised shriek which just prompted him to slap your ass as he moved through the house.

“Kids, come on! I’m taking you to Uncle Cas!” Sam called. “Kev, grab Rue.”

As Dean kept walking through the house, he had to dodge your children as they ran down the hall. Cheering and laughing, they barely glanced at you and Dean as they hurried off to Sam.

Once in your bedroom, Dean unceremoniously tossed you on the bed before pouncing. His lips were on yours in an instant, claiming them in a bruising kiss that had you aching for more while your lungs begged for air. His hands made quick work of your clothes, tearing them away until you were completely bare to him.

“Gonna fuck you full, ‘Mega,” he groaned, moving down to nip at your neck again. “Want you round with pups again.”

You gasped, arching as he slid his thigh between your legs and pressed against your bare pussy. Instinct took over, making you grind against his jeans as his lips continued south to your breasts.

Fingers sliding into his hair, you pushed his head down, hurrying him. “You… you’re insatiable, Dean Winchester.”

“Can you blame him?” Sam asked as he walked into the room, shedding his clothes. You watched as he undressed, moving towards the bed. When his jeans and boxer briefs hit the floor, Sam fisted his cock and began to stroke it. “Where do you want me, ‘Mega?”

Dragging your eyes up from his weeping cock, you batted your eyelashes at him. “Only fair I get a taste, too.”

“Fuck,” he groaned as he climbed onto the bed to kneel by your head. “Then open up.”

Doing as you were told, you reached out to grasp Sam’s cock and lead it to your mouth as you opened wide for him. The first brush of him on your tongue had you both groaning with need and desire.

At first you teased, licking at the tip, pressing light kisses on the sensitive skin. Sam watched, lip curling in a snarl as he growled. He wanted more, but he secretly enjoyed your games too much to just push into your mouth. He wanted to savour it all for the next time he was away from you.

Looking up from where he was sucking on your breast, Dean groaned at the sight of you and his brother. Sliding his hand down, he wedged it between your thighs, where you were still grinding against him, and slipped two fingers into your aching pussy.

Gasping at the intrusion, you glanced down at Dean, flashing your eyes at him. Sam took the opportunity to push further into your mouth then. It was only by a few inches though, so as not to startle you.

“Good girl.” Sam stroked your hair as you took him deeper, feeling him hit the back of your throat with each slow thrust.

The brothers worked in tandem, one thrusting his cock in and out of your mouth, while the other worked his fingers in your pussy. They were like a single machine, moving at the same time, with the same pace and force. It still amazed you at how two Alphas could be so in sync with each other.

Pulling away from your breast, licking his lips, Dean looked up at his brother. “Who goes where?”

“I want her pussy,” Sam grunted, fisting your hair.

“I’m the one in rut,” Dean snarled.

Not wanting them to argue, knowing they wouldn’t be able to make a decision themselves, you pulled Sam from your mouth. “Want Sam in my pussy, Dean in my ass.” You cupped Dean’s face. “Wanna feel the stretch, baby.” Then you looked up at Sam. “And wanna feel you fuck me full… wanna feel you in my belly.”

“Fuck,” they groaned in unison.

You were suddenly alone on the bed as both brothers moved back. Laying there, on your back, you watched as Dean stripped and Sam moved to grab the lube. Your fingers wandered, sliding between your thighs to replace Dean’s.

“Dirty girl.” Sam grinned, watching as you worked two fingers into your pussy at a lazy pace. “You know you’re gonna need more than that if you’re trying to prepare yourself for me.”

“I’m not.” You bit your lip. “Why would I want to take away the sweet sting from your cock?”

“Fuck me,” he groaned. “Take this.”

Sam didn’t give Dean the chance to react before he was tossing the lube at him. Then he was dropping onto the bed, grabbing your thighs to pull you until you were straddling his hips. His fingers curled around your arm and tugged you down, crashing your lips onto is while Dean lined up behind you.

The first brush of Dean’s fingers on your ass hole had you pulling your lips from Sam’s to whimper lowly. Your forehead rested on Sam’s shoulder as he lined his cock up with your pussy, while Dean began to press a finger into you. It was always so overwhelming, feeling them surround you.

Pressing your hands into the bed on either side of Sam’s head, you clawed at the sheet. Your eyes squeezed shut as an almost animal like groan spilled from your lips. Sam was sliding into you at an agonising pace, while Dean was thrusting the single finger in and out of you.

After a few moments Dean added another finger right as Sam’s cock pressed against your cervix. It was too much, but in the best way possible, and you cried out as your first orgasm shook through you.

Grabbing his cock, Dean gathered your slick as he pulled his fingers from your ass. You moaned in the crook of Sam’s neck, desperate to feel both of them inside you, fucking you, filling you, knotting you.

“Dean!”

Sam chuckled in your ear and Dean snarled, pushing into you.

The sound that tore through your lips spurred the brothers on. Sam- who had stilled once inside you- began to move as Dean started to thrust. It was slow at first, the two of them trying not to hurt you. Weeks had passed since you’d last seen them, since you’d last been intimate, and the first time being together again was always a little painful.

But you loved the stretch and sting. You loved feeling them inside you, making your walls ache as you got accustomed to their size and length all over again. You were made for them, in every way, but feeling them like this reminded you that no one else would do. No one else but your Alphas would ever be enough for you.

Gradually, the brothers began to pick up the pace, fucking into you harder, faster, more eager and desperate. They’d missed you just as you’d missed them, and while the time away from each other might be painful, when you were together again it was all worth it.

“God,” Dean grunted behind you. “So fucking tight, ‘Mega. I’m not gonna last.”

Sam panted below you, watching as his cock disappeared into your pussy. “Me neither. Need to come.”

You nodded, dropping your head to Sam’s chest. “Need to feel it. We can take our time later.”

With your permission, the brothers began to move faster, chasing their release. Dean grabbed your shoulder and pulled you flush against his chest.

With this new angle, Sam hit that spot that made you see stars. His hands grasped your hips guiding you as he bucked up, slamming into your cervix with a force that made you wonder how he hadn’t fucked into your womb yet. Reaching between you, Sam rubbed at your clit, drawing you closer and closer to your end.

Dean’s hand came around to pluck at your breast, causing milk to leak from your nipple. Your head fell back onto Dean’s shoulder, giving him a better view. His lips sealed around his mark on your neck as he sucked at your skin, and watched the white droplets roll on his fingers.

The three of you came together. Sam held you down on his cock so he could bury his cock deep as he filled you with an obscene amount of his seed. Dean grunted in your ear, sinking his teeth into your neck as his knot lodged itself into your ass and his cum filled you. You screamed and spasmed around both brothers, gushing around Sam’s cock as you came once more.

Your skin was vibrating, your mind buzzing as pure, white energy flushed through you. It was warm and cool at the same time, caressing your insides and sparking your nerves. You twitched and moaned, barely aware of the brothers as they carefully shifted so you were all laying on your sides.

Lips pressed kisses to your shoulders, neck, cheek and nose. Fingers stroked you delicately. Sam and Dean were panting, high on their own endings, but coherent enough to call out to you. They whispered your name, trying to bring you back from the ecstasy that was taking claim of your body.

“Omega,” they both murmured against you.

That one word shook the haze away enough so that you could get a better grasp of reality. You still felt the rippling bliss surging through you, but it wasn’t keeping you from your Alphas and their touch anymore.

“I love both of you,” you breathed.

“We love you,” they whispered at the same time, lips remaining on your skin.

Humming and smiling, you leaned back into Dean and pulled Sam closer. They continued to kiss and stroke you, purring lightly. It was perfection… it was heaven.

The End.

Bamby