#on a side note this is also why sam is canonically an omega and dean and john are both possessive obsessive alphas

[lambmotifz]

dean saying john stalked sam when he was in college and jensen saying dean did too + dean stalking and hunting sam down in when the levee breaks ♡

[crashdevlin]

Purgatorio

Author’s Note: This is part Thirty-three of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary:��Y/n navigates the rough terrain of Purgatory.

Pairing: none

Word count: 4380

Story Warnings:  angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, reader illness, a bit of a suicidal ideation

~~~

You felt like you’d been running for days, but you were sure it couldn’t have been more than a few hours. You killed half a dozen monsters in the time since you arrived in Purgatory, but they seemed like a never-ending tide. Running was exhausting, but it was better than fighting forever. You were on a mission, and that didn’t involve spending the rest of your life fighting monsters that had already been killed.

You could feel Dean, but it wasn’t strong enough to pinpoint his location. You just kept moving.

There was no sun, just a haze of foggy grey filtering through the trees. You didn’t seem to need food or water, but you stopped at a river out of habit and a lifetime of Bobby’s survival training. It was a poor choice, of course, as a werewolf jumped you from behind while you were analyzing the safety of the river for drinking. Claws dug into your right side as you tried to maneuver away from the attack and work through the pain. You grabbed blindly at the machete attached to your left hip and lashed out at the monster, but before the blade could make contact, a familiar sound met your ears.

You twisted to see the werewolf hit the riverbank mud, its eyes blown out with divine power. Standing behind it was the blue-eyed angel.

"Castiel? What are you doing here?" you gasped, adjusting your grip on the machete as you pressed a hand into the claw wounds on your side.

"I could ask the same of you." He stepped closer, and you moved away, fearing a trick.

"I'm here to save Dean. What else?" You shook your head. "John didn't even mention you. What the hell?"

"I can only assume John Winchester is hoping I have perished in the inhospitable landscape of Purgatory." The sullen way he spoke threw you off more than his words. “Let me heal you.”

You licked your lips and moved your hand, shifting to allow him access. “Why would John want you dead?”

“A lot transpired while you were absent, Y/n. I made several shameful, regretful decisions in the pursuit of victory in Heaven.”

“Wait, what?”

“Raphael wanted to bring Lucifer and Michael back, negate all of the sacrifices that marked that day in Stull Cemetery. I fought against it, but…the ends did not justify my means.” He reached forward and laid a hand on your side, healing your wound with a bit of burning divinity.

“What did you do?” you asked softly, pulling on every bit of omega comfort you could manage.

He looked away toward the horizon, looking for the river's end. “I betrayed Dean…and I hurt Sam.”

“How?”

“I broke the wall in Sam’s head. I made him remember. I drove him insane.” Your eyes went wide as the angel turned to you. “He remembers everything.”

“Everything?”

"Everything he endured in the Cage…but also, everything he did and said, everyone he harmed."

"I'm sure he had some tearful words with Dean and John over the things he did."

"From what I saw in my more lucid moments, the guilt seemed to better him." You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. A better Sam was still not worth your time. "How did you come to Purgatory, Y/n? John sent you? How?"

"John didn't send me; he found me and made me start remembering. I volunteered to come once I remembered Dean."

“And how did you come to be here?”

You looked down at the hole in your shirt and the blood on your hand. “Hades brought me. I’m supposed to find Dean and get him to the exit down south.”

“There is an exit?”

You nodded and looked back up. “Apparently, God wanted humans to be able to escape if necessary…which is a great thing considering that Hades can’t get me back home.”

“I’m surprised he was able to transport you to Purgatory; it is not usually the purview of the God of the Underworld.”

You shrugged again. “Hades has always been much more powerful than he’s given credit for.” You cleared your throat and looked down the river. “So, do you know where Dean is?”

“Only based on the movements of the monsters."

"And why haven't you found him?" you asked, adjusting your pack on your back.

"The Leviathans have been tracking me. It is best for me to stay away from him…and you.”

“Wait, you’re not going to leave me, are you?” you demanded, reaching out to grab the Angel’s coat. “Look, I’m a bit out of my depth here, okay? I’ve been running since I got here, and I’m exhausted. Please, don’t leave me.”

Castiel sighed and nodded. “Of course. I understand. But it will not be safer for you.”

“It’s better than running around alone.” You licked your lips and gave him a tight smile. “So, thank you for staying with me, Cas. I haven’t been back very long and just jumped into this rescue mission, kinda.”

“I understand, believe it or not. I was in a mental institute for many months before I was needed to send the Leviathans back to Purgatory,” Castiel said as he started walking away.

“You were crazy?” you asked, following him.

“Yes. When I broke the wall in Sam’s mind, he lost his sanity for a time. The only way I could heal his infirmity was to take it upon myself. It might have been better if I never came out of my catatonia.”

“But you said that they needed you because of the Leviathans…which are…what are Leviathans, by the way?”

“John didn’t explain?” You shook your head. “Of course, that does make a bit of sense. If he didn’t explain about me, then-”

“Well, I dreamed some stuff,” you interrupted. “So I know they were…pretty much about to eat the whole world.”

“You dreamed of the Winchesters?”

“Is that so weird? I used to be the Junction, remember?”

“Of course, I remember, Y/n. I remember everything.” He turned to you and tilted his head as he looked down at you. “But you were away from them. You didn’t remember your connection to Dean and John. It makes little sense that you would be dreaming of them.”

“Maybe I just missed them, and my soul reached out and made contact for me.”

“I suppose that is a possibility, of course. I find it strange that these dreams didn’t inspire you to contact the Winchesters.”

You shook your head. “There was a block. Every time I thought about contacting Sam or Dean, something made me change my mind. I suppose that was Death’s doing.” You cleared your throat and tried not to think about lost time. “So, how far away is Dean?”

“I estimate it will take us two days…and you will need to sleep soon. You are unwell.”

You didn’t feel like sleeping, but as soon as he said the words, you knew he was right. You couldn’t keep going much longer without rest. “Will you keep watch?” You followed him away from the river and into the woods.

“Of course.”

~~~

Sleep was hard-won with the environment and the pain in your ovaries, but you must have fallen into a deep one because you didn’t know a blade was tucked under your chin until you pulled yourself out of whatever dream you found yourself in that night.

“What the fuck are you?” the familiar gruff voice of Dean Winchester demanded. Overwhelmed tears filled your eyes before you even opened your lids to look up at him. He looked dirty, angry, almost feral, but it was Dean. “Shifter? Djinn? Siren? What are you?”

You blinked the tears out of your eyes and took a steady breath. The tears slipped down your face to disappear into your hairline. You made sure to catch his eyes and hold the contact as you tried to stay as still as possible. “Now, tell me what kind of monster could connect to your soul like I have, Winchester. Unless you wanna say that you don’t feel it.”

His bottom lip trembled as he glared down at you. “No, you…you can’t be her. She can’t be here. I’m not stupid, I-”

“If there was anyone other than your brother or father that could get here to try to get you out-”

“It’d be Y/n, but she’s gone. Death took her, and he didn’t bring her-”

“Of course, he didn’t bring me here. Hades did.” You took a chance and carefully reached up to pull the drachma necklace out of your shirt so that he could see it. “John said you were in trouble. Of course, I’d do whatever it took to help.”

Dean’s eyes fell to your necklace, then jumped back up to your eyes. “You gave up what Death gave-”

“Yes.”

It seemed to take a moment for the words to sink in, but he stumbled backward after they did and dropped the blade. You sat up and looked down at the weapon. It looked just as primitive and feral as he did. “I looked for you…for over a year,” he whispered. “I begged Death to tell me where you were. He said you were where you belonged and…” He took a deep breath that didn’t seem to do its job and blinked a few times to clear his eyes. “Dad found you?”

You nodded. “Yeah. John broke into my office and pulled a Bourne Identity on me.”

“Figures he finds you as soon as I’m out of the way,” he muttered, a bitterness to his words.

“It wasn’t like that, Dean. He only found me because-” The words stopped in your throat and refused to leave. You just found him. You weren’t going to ruin the reunion by dropping the news of your cancer. “Another hunter came across me, and let him know where I was.”

“Oh, so he was just lucky.”

“Right, and that leads to your luck, Dean.” You stood, picking up his primitive blade as you did. “I’m here to take you home. There’s an exit.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

Dean nodded and reached out his hand to take the blade back. “Somebody told me about it a couple months ago. We’ve been trying to find Cas so we can all get the hell outta here.”

You looked around for a sign of the Angel. “Wait, Cas was just here when I fell asleep. And, wait, who told you about the exit?”

“Well, if Cas was just here, then I’m sure we’re not too far behind. Grab your shit, and let’s see if we can find his trail.”

“Wait, who told you about the exit?”

He ran his free hand through his hair and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before clearing his throat. “There’s this fang that’s been here a few years. He found out about it and wanted me to help him get out.”

“Monsters can’t get out. That defeats the purpose of the exit. It’s for humans only.”

“Yeah, well, Benny used to be a human, okay?” Dean argued. “And he’s had my back for months, and I think he deserves us at least trying to get his soul back home.”

You nodded, shocked at how fiercely he seemed to defend his new friend. “Okay. It wouldn’t be the first time we’ve worked side by side with something we should be hunting, right?”

“Yeah. Right. Hey, Benny!” he called out, looking behind him.

A man with a beard walked out of the foliage and stepped beside Dean. “She’s actually her?” he asked an accent that you couldn’t quite place on his words.

“Yeah. She’s real. Y/n, this is Benny. Benny, Y/n.”

“Benny Lafitte. Pleasure to meet you, cher,” the vampire said, offering his hand.

“Cajun?” you asked, guessing at his accent as you took his hand.

Benny smiled. “Yes, ma’am. Dean hasn’t been able ta keep his mout’ shut ‘bout ‘chu.”

Dean rolled his eyes and looked away. “Come on, Benny.”

“All good t’ings, o’ course,” Benny clarified.

“Of course. Well…do you know where the exit is, Benny?” you asked.

“Yeah, but Dean won’ let me take us dare ‘til we fine Castiel.”

You turned your focus back to Dean and licked your lips. “Cas was just here. When I fell asleep, he was with me, but…” You took a deep breath and sighed it out. “He told me he felt it was better to stay away from us. The Leviathans are tracking him, apparently.”

“Well, I’m not leaving without Cas, all right, so we need to find his feathery ass.”

Your eyebrow raised. “You’d keep us stuck here just for Castiel, who refuses to be found?”

“Castiel deserves to-”

“Cas doesn’t agree,” you argued.

“Why does that matter?!”

“Keep your voice down, Dean,” you demanded.

He looked around and licked his lips. “Okay. Look.” He stepped closer to you and looked down into your eyes. “You just saw Cas. He said he doesn’t deserve to go home, but you and I know him, and we know that he deserves everything we do.”

“I don’t know him that well, but I know that we need to get out of here. He’s a goddamned Angel. If anybody could get out of here, it’s him, but he doesn’t want to go-”

“He can’t stay here, Y/n!”

You glared up at him. “Dean, you should understand better than anyone the feeling of being unworthy of salvation. But he actually did something worth feeling that way. He told me what he did to Sam. You’ve forgiven that?”

“He thought he was doing the right thing. I should doom him to this place for it?”

“No. He doomed himself, Dean, and I’m telling you, if anyone could make it out of here, it’s Castiel.”

“Then why is he still here?”

You sighed. “Come on. We just talked about this. He doesn’t think he deserves to go home.”

“Then we find him and force him to-”

“Dean, bruddah, we needa get movin’. I hear somethin’ comin’ our way,” Benny said, calling attention to himself quietly.

“We’re finding him.” Dean’s voice told you that he wasn’t arguing about it anymore, so you stopped saying your piece and followed the men further into the woods of Purgatory.

~~~

“Your dad found her just to get you back, and you gonna risk it all for the Angel? You gonna risk her for the Angel?”

You could barely hear the two talking in the clearing ahead of you. Dean was facing away from you, but Benny kept one of his eyes on you.

“Benny, she’s not at risk. She is the strongest woman I’ve ever met. I’m not joking. Dad went to her because he knew that she would do whatever it took to get me back, and that means she’s going to have to wait for me to find Cas and convince him to come home.”

“I think dat’s probably frustratin’ for her. She came all dis way an’ you won’t go wit’ her?”

“Look, I know you wanna get out of here, too, man, but I gotta try to get Cas-”

“This ain’t about me. I know you gonna get me out if you can, but look at her.” Dean looked over his shoulder at you, but you pretended you didn’t notice as you sharpened your machete. “You said you’ve been sick over her for years. She’s here. She came for you. Don’t you think she needs a little bit of an explanation?”

Dean ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek and nodded, letting out a ‘yeah’ under his breath. He cleared his throat and walked over to you. “So, uh, you probably want an explanation, huh?”

You focused on your machete and the whetstone in your hand. “If you want.”

“Okay. Um.” He licked his lips and dropped down to sit on the log you were sitting on. “So, I pretty hard on Cas when everything went down. He hurt Sam, so I’m sure it’s not a shocker that I was pissed. But when we needed him, when everything was coming to a head, and the power and the Leviathans had thoroughly flown his cuckoo nest, I gave up on him. I thought the Cas I knew was gone, and the world was gonna end, and it was gonna be his fault. I was bitter and angry at him and angry at Death and…” Dean reached up and ran his hand through his hair. “Sam had faith. Even after what Cas did to him, Sam believed in him…and it worked. Cas came through, but it was too late. The Leviathans ripped him apart, or at least I thought they did. I thought he was dead. I thought he was gone forever and that he went out with me barely able to look him in the eye.”

The emotion in the tone of his voice made you turn to look at him. “That’s not your fault. Cas betrayed you. You had every right to think that he was irreparably changed. I mean, this is Castiel, the Angel that rebelled against Heaven for you.”

“Yeah. That’s pretty much what I was thinking, but…his heart was in the right place. He was tryin' to make sure that Sam throwing himself in the Cage and you and Dad and Bobby…”

“Yeah. He said that. There was so much sacrifice, and he didn’t want it to be for nothing.”

Dean nodded. “Right, and he just got so deep in trying to do the right thing that he ended up way far off the mark and buried so deep in Crowley’s bullshit that…Point is, I should never have given up on him, and I can’t give up on him now. Does that make sense to you?”

You took a deep breath and twisted to face him. “Of course, it makes sense, Dean. But you still have to figure out what you’ll do if you can’t convince Cas to come with us. Are you going to stay?”

“No, of course not. I got people waiting for me back home. Until a few hours ago…gettin’ back and finding you was on the top of my list.”

“I’m sorry I disappeared,” you whispered, leaning forward to put the whetstone back in your backpack.

“Did you know what Death was going to do? That he was going to…”

“Erase half of my life and put something completely different in its place so that I don’t go searching for my past and everything I walked away from?” you finished for him. “No. He just said he was going to take away my damage. I figured he was going to wall off or take away my memories of Hell, but Death didn’t think that was where my damage started; he thought it was a symptom of the damage that started when I got way too close to the Winchesters.”

“So, he took all of your memories of us?”

“Nope, not all of them, just everything after my eighteenth birthday. Everything went bad after John and I…”

Dean scoffed. “Wow. I thought things were bad with Sam not being able to remember the time between going into the ground and waking up in the Panic Room.”

“He replaced what he took with other memories. I never imagined that I was missing so much.”

“But you remember it all now?” You nodded. “Why did you leave?” You placed your bottom lip between your teeth and chewed on it for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain what you were thinking when you took Death up on his offer. “I know you were angry about me taking Death’s ring and about me working so hard to save Sam, but-”

“It wasn’t fair that he got to forget,” you interrupted. You zipped your pack and stood. “He got to forget Hell and everything he did and said when he was soulless. He got to forget stalking me, treating me like a piece of meat, and trying to kill your dad, and all the other horrible shit. I had to remember. It wasn’t fair. I just didn’t want to remember. I wanted to…” You took a deep breath. “Death gave me a chance. He let me be what my father wanted me to be; a normal girl with a head for antiquities and a reliance on no one except myself.”

“What about Bobby? You weren’t there when-”

“No, I wasn’t, and I don’t think Bobby would have wanted me there. He wouldn’t have wanted me to see him lying in a coma from a gunshot wound. A gunshot!” you hissed. You looked away in disgust at the thought of it. “But Bobby would have been happy with who I became. The very last conversation I had with that man was him telling me that I should leave.”

“What?” Dean sounded shocked.

“He saw that you weren’t treating me well, putting everything and everyone else above me, and he told me to consider leaving. He told me to move on from you because you were never really going to be mine because you can’t allow that. He said that I could go pretend to be normal with someone else somewhere.”

“And Death stepped right up and made it happen. So, who was he?”

You rolled your eyes and picked up your backpack. “It’s so like you to pick up on the least important part of the story. There was no one. I thought I was a virgin, blissfully ignorant of all the times I was used or forced to use someone I didn’t want. I didn’t remember pining sickness or Winchester family drama. I was actually happy, but as soon as John found me, I knew I had to come to get you. So, here I am, with all my damage firmly in place, waiting for you to get your guilt over Cas assuaged so we can go home.”

“You were happy?” he asked quietly as you started walking away toward the river.

“Don’t worry; it’s been remedied.”

~~~

A few weeks later, you and Dean walked down a Louisiana backroad heading toward Benny’s grave. He’d been quiet since you made it home and you knew it was because Cas didn’t make it through the portal. Benny made it through, though, in Dean’s forearm. Souls were weird.

“Maybe you should go back,” Dean said suddenly, after hours of silence.

“To Purgatory? No, thank you.”

“No, I mean, back to the life Death made you.”

You scoffed. “What would be the point?”

“You were happy,” he insisted.

“I was blissfully ignorant. I’m not anymore. I can’t just go back and be that again.”

“You could find somebody to make you forget about…everything.”

You chuckled, thinking about the email you read as soon as the two of you made it to a motel. It was from your other-life doctor prompting you to call him to discuss the rest of your treatment and how important it was to find out how to deal with the prognosis, because if it was ovarian cancer, the survival stats were low. “I’m gonna be dead a few months, anyway, so there’s really no point.”

“What?”

“I’ve got cancer, Dean.” You kept your tone even, keeping a Hunter-appropriate amount of nonchalance in your stance.

He reached out and grabbed your elbow, effectively stopping you and turning you to face him in one motion. “You what?”

You looked up and saw fear in his emerald eyes, but you felt loss emanating from him. “I have cancer. I’ve been taking the strongest suppressants available since 2009. I’m probably going to be dead within the year if projections are right.” Dean looked a mix of lost and confused, so you reached up and patted his cheek. “But unlike last time, I’m going to Heaven and I’m gonna stay.”

“W-wait. If it’s just, just normal cancer, then why don’t you-There’s chemo and shit, ain’t there?”

“Spend my last few months without any hair, nauseated, and weak? Why would I do that?” you dismissed.

"You could live! You…or we could…we could find an angel or…why didn’t you have Cas fix you?”

“He was barely standing, Dean; I wasn’t going to have him waste his energy on me.”

“Why the hell not?!” He scoffed. “You can’t seriously want to die, can you?”

You scoffed right back. “You know, a week ago I was terrified of it. It was the worst thing I could imagine, but…now that I know everything I’ve been through, dying seems like a sweet fucking reprieve, ya know?”

“Look, I know that things haven’t been the best for you but…” Dean looked lost for words for a moment so you interrupted.

“Things have been worse than not the best.”

“I can’t lose you again, Y/n.”

“Yes, you can,” you disputed, trying to walk away. Dean stopped you.

“No, I can’t,” he insisted, getting in your way. “I’ve had you on my mind every day since Death took you and I cannot lose you again. Heaven, Hell, the Underworld, the other life, I can’t…” He took a deep breath and looked down into your eyes. “My soul hurts with you gone and I can’t…I can take any kind of pain the world throws at me, honey, but I can’t take that anymore.”

There it was; that honesty that completely disarmed you. “Dean…we don’t work. We never have.”

“Because we never let ourselves work. Between me pushing you towards Sam and putting him before you and letting everything get all messed up all the time, we never let it work, but I promise you, okay, I promise that if you go get healthy, I will never put Sam before you ever again.”

Your jaw dropped a little. “You can’t promise that.”

“I am. I am promising that I will never allow my brother to come between us again, and I am promising that if you get this cancer shit dealt with, I will finally mark you and spend the rest of your life being the worst decision you’ve ever made. Understand me?”

Your eyes went wide as you searched his face for any sign that he was being insincere. You saw only love and fear. So you nodded. “Okay. I’ll call my doctor.”

[dontshootmespence]

Shattered Breaths

Summary: After running into two alphas in the middle of the night, you, an Omega, find yourself falling for the elder Winchester brother, but for reasons unspoken, neither of you will act on it.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word Count: 6,312

Warnings: Angst. Lots of angst. Mutual pining. Two morons that won’t admit their feelings for one another. Canon compliant death. ABO dynamics. Smut. P in v with knotting and claiming. Some cockwarming. Some quick and dirty oral sex both ways if you squint. All very desperate.

A/N: For those of you 18 and over! This fulfills my omegaverse square for @spnkinkbingo. There’s a TON of build up and it all goes in order from around the beginning of season 7 to after Dean returns from Purgatory.

Beta’d by: The always lovely @stusbunker​. Cannot thank you enough! <3

Blood pulsed quickly through your veins as you ran through the desolate forest, low growls from behind pushing you forward at breakneck speed despite the fact that your muscles were on fire. So tired. You were so tired of this.

Moonlight streamed through the trees, lighting a sliver of a path between them that you took without hesitation. Each thud of your feet against the cold ground sent shockwaves through your body, muscles threatening to tear themselves from your bones. 

As the growling got closer, you felt a shiver run up your spine and prayed to anyone that was listening to give you a reprieve. Trees surrounded you, light barely hitting your sweat-slick skin through the canopy overhead. 

After locking yourself inside for days on end, you ventured outside to feel the sun on your skin. You knew you could be tracked by alphas, especially during your heat, but after days spent underground in an abandoned house, you’d been desperate - and sloppy. 

Glancing behind you, you saw a glint of the alpha werewolves’ eyes and pushed your body as hard as you were physically able, running straight into the arms of a tall, well-built man. “Where is it?” He asked, his hands wrapping around your wrists to steady you. 

“Them, there’s two of them!” You whispered.

“Stay between me and my brother.” Turning around, you saw an even taller man with his gun drawn and sandwiched yourselves between them. 

For a moment, the forest stood still, breath catching in the air as your eyes darted all around. Seemingly out of nowhere, one of the alphas that had been chasing you swiped at the taller of the two brothers, knocking him down and leaving you vulnerable. Turning, you saw the man you’d run into get tackled to the ground by the other alpha.

A gunshot went off, piercing the werewolf in the heart before it collapsed on top of the shorter brother. Quickly, both of you turned your attention to the other man, who was still pinned to the ground, fighting off swipe after swipe of the werewolf’s piercing claws. 

Before you could run to help him, the other man rushed past you, screaming his brother’s name.“Sam!” 

But the moment he made contact with the werewolf, the unnamed man was thrown backward into a tree.

These men had stopped to help you. You couldn’t turn away now. As your fangs descended, a chest-deep growl emanated from within you, talking the alpha off guard long enough for you to get him away from Sam. 

“Now you stand and fight? You stupid, omega bitch.” 

He pinned you up against a tree and ran his nose up the side of your neck, inhaling your scent. You felt your claws extend from your fingertips but before you could do anything the unidentified man called for him. “Hey!”

The minute the werewolf’s attention was diverted, the man fired a shot that landed directly between your assailant’s eyes. 

When he fell to the floor, you heard Sam call for his brother, Dean, who immediately ran toward him to make sure he was okay. Both had a few nicks and bruises, but they would survive. As soon as they assured the other was safe, their attention turned to you. 

“Stay away!” You growled, more for their benefit than yours. “I need a minute.”

They both held their hands up and tried to impress upon you that they weren’t about to hurt you. They’d stopped to help and put themselves in great danger to do so, so you trusted them, but you didn’t trust yourself. Whenever you let yourself tap into the feral side of yourself, you needed time to come down.

“You’re pretty tough for an omega,” Dean said, injecting a little levity into his voice. 

Eyes closed, you took deep breaths and noted the lightness in his tone. 

“When you’ve been on your own since you presented at 16, you kind of have no other choice.” With each breath, you managed to slow your heart rate and finally felt your claws retract. “You’re hunters.”

Sam nodded and stepped forward, catching you as your shaky legs gave way underneath you. “We are. You okay?”

“I will be. Thank you, Sam. Dean, thank you.”

The brothers guided you out of the forest and toward their car. “Nice ride,” you said, impressed. 

“This is my Baby,” Dean replied.

Sam rolled his eyes and laughed, opening the door for you. “Can we give you a ride somewhere?”

“We’re definitely giving you a ride somewhere,” Dean echoed. “I’m not about to leave an in-heat Omega out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night.”

“Much appreciated, boys. But I’ve got nowhere to go.” More than 15 years had passed since you’d had a place to call home. 

“We don’t either.” Sam shrugged. “We travel all over to hunt. You have any money?”

Shaking your head, you retreated into yourself, realizing for the first time since you ran that you were well and truly fucked. “No, actually. I did. But I ran as soon as the werewolves spotted me.” 

Dean shot you a pitiful look. “Why don’t you stay with us?”

Running from two alphas into the arms of two others? Was that wise? Probably not. But you’d never been one for the wise. At least they were human, and hunters.

                                                          -------

Shortly after joining Sam and Dean on their continuous cross-country trek, you had to distance yourself from them, if only by a few motel rooms; your heat had triggered their ruts. Even though they were both amazing looking guys, you weren’t about to jeopardize your newfound camaraderie by begging one of them to fuck you senseless. No matter how good looking they were. Out of pure need to not screw up the first home you’d ever had, you made a habit of keeping to yourself during your heats and asked them to do the same whenever biology kicked into overdrive.

They taught you everything they knew. You’d come across werewolves and vamps, but that was about it, and there was so much more to this big scary world than you’d originally thought. Leviathans were apparently a thing, and they couldn’t die. At least they hadn’t figured out a way yet. Whenever the boys thought they’d killed one, the same one showed their ugly face again. None of their usual methods worked, so that was fun.

Sam schooled you on the lore, loading you up with facts about any and every creature he knew of whenever he could, much to Dean’s feigned dismay; you could tell in his eyes how proud he was of his brother. He also taught you self defense, which was harder than you thought. Sure, you’d defended yourself a thousand times before but that had been feral swiping and growling and hoping for the best, mixed with a healthy dose of luck. Sam was able to refine your ferocity into swift and pointed movements. After a while, you could even defend yourself against Sam.

Dean, on the other hand, taught you how to handle a knife and how to shoot. For some reason, learning to handle the knife had been easy, but shooting was another story all together. “This is fucking hopeless,” you muttered as your arm fell to your side in defeat.

“A’right, ‘mega,” he said, gathering his arms around you, his hands splaying over your own. A delicious shiver crawled up your spine at the sound of your nickname rolling off his tongue. Only Dean called you Omega; Sam just used your name. 

“Relax your shoulders,” he said, his deep, gravely voice rolling through you. It’s a good thing you weren’t in heat, you thought to yourself as you swallowed hard, because not jumping his bones was hard enough under the best of circumstances. “You want to keep your arms extended, but not locked.”

“K, Alpha. Now what? Because I suck at this.” 

He chuckled at your back and placed his hands on your hips, moving you into a good standing position. “Like this.” He tapped your leg with his left hand. He was

making this easy.

“Fake it ‘til you make it,” he continued, sending your mind in a completely different direction than the one he intended. Which really wasn’t all that hard to do considering your mind was in the gutter already. 

“You make it sound so simple,” you huffed. “You’ve been doing this since you were practically in diapers.” You lost yourself in the thought for a moment; he deserved so much more than that.

“You want to pretend that you know exactly what you’re doing, because it’ll feel more natural, and when it feels more natural, you’re in the better position to hit your target. Pick one.”

Picking one of his empty whiskey bottles that he’d placed in the middle of the area ahead, you leaned forward slightly. 

“What made you lean forward?” He asked.

“I don’t know. Instinct, I guess? I figure my body should be pitched forward a little bit to counteract the kick of the gun.”

“See, you’re a fuckin natural,” Dean said proudly. “Grab the grip tight and aim.”

When he let go of your arms, you felt cold and off your game again. You didn’t like to admit how much he steadied you. Something about Dean was comforting, like that first sip of whiskey - warm and inviting. You wavered and his arms returned to where they were. 

“You’re questioning your aim,” he said softly. “You had it. Have faith in yourself and follow through on your target.” Stepping back, he pulled out his other gun and hit the furthest bottle back without any problem. 

With a deep breath, you playfully growled at him, frustrated at how good he was and how good he looked doing it. “So all I need to do is fake it?”

“Yup. Keep in mind everything I just said, and fake it. Don’t go for the one in the back, go for that one,” he replied, pointing to a dark blue bottle toward the front, maybe 15 to 20 feet away from you. 

Turning your attention back toward the bottles, you shook out your nerves, breathed in through your nose, out through your mouth, and applied steady pressure on the trigger, feeling a bit of kickback as the bottle shattered into a thousand pieces. 

“See!” Dean said, smiling wide. “I told you!”

You put the gun down and danced around. Sure, you needed consistency, but at least you were making progress. “Now I just have to get my own gun. One similar to this. Because I don’t wanna get used to this and then have to handle something else entirely.”

Dean swallowed hard and picked the gun up, letting it slip through his fingers effortlessly as the grip was turned toward you. “Take this.”

“Dean, this is your gun. Your trusty gun. I couldn’t.” Besides Sam, Cas and Baby, this gun had to be one of the constants in his life.

Gripping the barrel firmly, he extended it toward you again. “Take this one.”

“Exactly, it’s never failed me. And if I can’t be there, it won’t fail you either.” His strong hand glided over yours and opened your palm before laying the gun down. “Besides Sam and Cas, you’re all I’ve got, ‘Mega.”

Pride gave way to sadness before her eyes. She could see the cogs turning, wanting to know more than anything what made him tick. When he closed the gap between you, you leaned into his embrace and closed your eyes as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

                                                          -------

“You okay?”

With a strained laugh, you grabbed Dean by the wrist and pushed him into the motel room. “Me? Am I okay? Dean, what the hell were you thinking?”

If he wasn’t already in pain you’d kick the ever-living shit out of him. As it was, you were about to rip him a new asshole. 

“He was -” 

“Sam, shut up!” You snapped before turning to Dean, whose mouth you knew was open despite having your back turned to him. “And you! Don’t even! I had that werewolf no problem, and because you had to come out and be Mr. Hero and shove me out of the way, you got hurt.”

Your heart was racing a mile a minute. When the wolf’s claws had slashed through the fabric of Dean’s henley and the skin underneath, your heart nearly stopped. His scream of agony still echoed through your head. 

“Sam, are you okay?” You asked, peeling back the blood-stained material of Dean’s shirt. Thankfully, the marks weren’t too deep, but he still scared you half to death.

“Yea, I’m fine. There anything I can do?”

“No, I’ve got this,” you replied. “We have no food and he’s not about to go grab a meal like this though.”

Sam nodded in understanding and ducked out of the motel room quickly. You made a mental note to apologize for snapping at him.

“Can I talk?” Dean asked, testing where you were on the anger scale. 

Huffing, you poured some alcohol onto a rag to clean out his wounds. “Depends. You plan on making excuses for getting yourself hurt? Or do you plan on apologizing? Because I’ll only accept one of those as a reason to open your mouth.”

With pursed lips, he mumbled. “You’re a little bossy, Omega.”

“Get used to it. What the hell were you thinking?” Crouching before him, you wiped his wounds clean as he hissed at the pain. 

Dean’s hand slipped underneath your chin, tipping your head up so you’d look at him. “I saw you when we first met; scared. I saw your death flash before my eyes, so I jumped without thinking.” 

His thumb caressed the side of your cheek. Your instinct was to lean into it, but you were so angry with him. “Fuckin’ hell, Dean. That’s the problem. Fucking think!”

He flinched at your outburst. You were so mad. But it was more than that. “Dean, I’m scared every time we go out. I’m scared of monsters. I’m scared of alphas that don’t know how to take no for an answer. I’m always scared. But I do shit anyway because it’s either do something or die and I really don’t feel like dying. D’ya know what scares me more than anything though?”

When he shook his head, you tried to speak, but felt the words catch in your throat. Your lip began to tremble, all of the fear and adrenaline finally steadying out. “Losing you.”

Swallowing back the bile rising in your throat, you continued. “I ran from my father, an abusive alpha. I was so afraid of being hurt again that I stayed away from anyone and everyone. Until I ran into you. Even when I lived with my father, I never really had a home. And now I do,” you said softly, a tear falling down your cheek. “Do you know what it would do to me to lose you? Not only to lose you, but realize I lost you because of me?”

“I don’t wanna die, but if I die protecting you; I’ll consider it a good death,” he replied. “But I’m sorry. I should’ve trusted you to handle it. Because you could’ve and you were going to. I just...I wasn’t thinking.”

Letting go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding, you bandaged up Dean’s wounds and sat on the crappy motel bed beside him. “Start thinking,” you commanded, your hand cradling the back of his neck. 

Without any thought for the consequences or the implications, you pressed your lips to his, memorizing the scent of musk and evergreen that floated off his body. He smelled like home. Wherever he was, you were home. “Please, start thinking. Don’t make me lose you, Alpha.”

Dean nuzzled his forehead into yours and whispered. “I’m sorry, ‘Mega.”

                                                          -------

Whenever you weren’t hunting or isolating yourselves during heats and ruts, you, Dean and Sam indulged in cheap booze, cheaper food and bad movies. “If I don’t get food, I might kill one of you.”

Dean popped up from his seat like he’d just been yelled at and forced to go to his room. “I’ll grab some then,” he laughed, an easy-going smile dancing across his face. 

Smiling excitedly, you clasped your hands together and brought them up by the side of your face. “Bacon cheeseburger and fries, please. And pie?”

“What kind?”

“Whatever you get.”

“What makes you think I’m getting pie?”

“Your name is Dean.”

“Touche, ‘Mega,” he said with a laugh. Sam ordered a wildly boring salad with a fruit cup for dessert. You could swear it actually pained Dean to hear such an order. “I’ll be back in 30.”

As he closed the door, you ran into the bathroom and changed into your pajamas before picking out your movie for the night on one of the on-demand channels. “This cool, Sam? The Gingerbread Man starring Gary Busey.”

Looking up, he nodded quickly, clearly not registering what you’d just said, as you were sure he’d have some snarky remark. “Yea, that’s fine by me. Y/N, can I ask you a question?”

You bristled at the frankness in his voice. “Sure, Sam. What is it?”

A little chuckle put you more at ease as he spoke. “Why don’t you and Dean just fuck already?”

A very undignified snort escaped you. It made no sense to try and dissuade him of his opinion. It was obvious you and Dean liked each other, wanted each other. “It’s too complicated, Sam.”

He shot you an ‘are-you-serious’ look, which spurred you on. “Dean wouldn’t want a needy Omega at home that he felt beholden too. Plus, I’m not just gonna sit home and raise pups, as much as I’d like them. I need an identity outside of that. And that would come with it’s own host of issues, because I’m assuming he would be ‘just a tad’ overprotective. And-”

“As opposed to how he already is,” Sam interjected, leaning forward to place his head in his propped up hands. “But go on.”

“Don’t be a smartass, Sam. What we have here is good. The three of us. I have a home. If something were to fuck that up by, like oh, I don’t know, fucking Dean and it not working out? I would lose the only home I’ve ever really known. As much as I love Dean, and you know I do, I’m too afraid to risk it.”

Sam looked at you sadly, hoping that maybe you’d all met in a different life. “I understand that. More than you know.”

A comfortable silence hung between you for a moment, and you thought that was the end of it. “Dean loves you, too, you know? If anyone could get my brother to settle down and have pups, it’d be you. Yea, he’d be an overprotective pain-in-the-ass, but he knows he can’t control you. I’m not saying you have to say anything to him. But I think you should. I think you guys are more on the same page than you think.”

For a moment, you allowed yourself to drift off into thoughts of what a life with Dean might be like. Kickass hunters with a family of pups to raise. Happy. Together. It made your heart swell, but then you saw the picture shatter before your eyes and the realization hit you like a truck. The reason you were too afraid to pursue things with Dean wasn’t because it could screw up the home you’d managed to find. In this life, a hunter’s life, you rarely got a happy ending, and if you lost Dean after being claimed by him? The man you loved more than anything?

There would be no coming back from that.

You’d shatter.

------

After your brief fast food, crappy B-movie respite, you finally formulated a decent enough plan to kill Dick Roman. If by formulated, you mean Sam and Dean trusting Crowley, relying on the new and improved bee-loving Castiel, all while watching the boys crumble at the loss of Bobby for a second time, then yes, a plan had been formulated. “This is so, so very stupid,” you muttered. “A bone from a righteous nun bathed in the blood of an angel, head Daddy vamp, and possibly Crowley if he didn’t fuck us royally, and we’re about to walk right in.”

“You got a better idea?” Dean asked. 

“Not a one. Ready to go?”

“That’s my girl.”

Speeding down the highway, you chuckled to yourself at the stupidity of this. Dean, Sam, Cas, Ghost Bobby, even Meg had said you could sit this one out, but you weren’t about to let the boys go in by themselves. Maybe you couldn’t do anything that they wouldn’t have already tried. But if they were gonna die, you were gonna bite the bullet with them. You wouldn’t be left alone again.

You split up into teams of two. Dean needed Cas to identify the real, fake Dick, which left you and Sam to search for Kevin and get the hell out of there, all while using Meg as a distraction. Each footstep felt like a bomb going off underneath your feet; you were bound to get caught. But as you snuck through hallway after sanitized, boring-ass hallway, picking the locks of every door in your wake, you finally found Kevin. Who, of course, had to throw another wrench in the already shaky, we’re-absolutely-gonna-get-ourselves-killed plan. 

“We have to blow up the lab,” Kevin said desperately, looking every inch a scared child making the decisions of a man.

More than anything, you and Sam wanted to get him out, but you knew he was right. With enough Borax on you to clean the entirety of insert-large-monument-of--choice-here, you doused every leviathan in your path before finally making it to the lab in one piece, if slightly covered in leviathan goo.

With the traps set, you began the search for Dean, Cas and Dick, only to find the head leviathan with the bone sticking through his throat. A wretched sound emanated from the slimy creature’s throat before his limbs began to twitch. “We need to go!” You screamed over the shockwaves building in the small room. “Guys, we have to go now!”

But before they had even taken a step, Dick Roman exploded, flinging his remnants all over the room, and when you could finally see again, Cas and Dean were gone. Sam spun toward you, eyes darting around the room, mouth agape.

“Where are they? You cried, grasping Sam’s jacket in your hands. “What happened to them?”

“I-I-”

“Hello, Sam. Y/N,” Crowley touted upon his entrance.

Sam held you back as you lunged toward the demon without a care for what he might do to you. “What happened to Dean? Where is Cas?”

With a click of his fingers, two of his henchmen had Kevin in their grasp. And with the next, they were gone.

“That bone had a bit of a kick,” he replied with a sickly smug smile on his face. “God weapons often do. Looks like you two are well and truly alone.”

Another snap and Crowley was gone. 

Dean was gone.

“We have to find Dean,” you said meekly, numbness lapping at your toes like a wave on the shore. 

Off in the distance, other Leviathan approached. 

“We have to get out of here,” Sam said. 

But you couldn’t move. Your limbs were heavy with exhaustion and a black hole of despair that was devouring you from the inside out. “We have to find Dean,” you whispered.

“We have to go!” Sam picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. 

In your grief, you tried to fight him off - you begged him to put you down and go find Dean and Cas, but he refused. “I’m not leaving!” You punched his back with your fist with every ounce of strength you had, screaming until your throat hurt.

“I’m not letting you die, too,” he said, voice ragged as he carried you through the hallways.

“Die too.” The words rolled through your mind like a bullet. “He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s not dead.”

Sam threw you into the Impala and slipped the key into the starter, panicking when the engine sputtered to life. As it finally kicked into drive, the monstrous squealing of the Impala’s damaged engine was drowned out by the screech of your anguished cries.

-----

You were caged. 

Within these walls. Within this world. Within your skin.

As you trembled, the overwhelming ache between your thighs spread outward to your entire body. You sobbed into the mattress. After losing Dean, you’d done anything and everything you could think of to find him, but to no avail. And then your heat hit. 

Despite the medication that Sam had found to help you through them, the stress and desolate sadness somehow made this heat even worse. Pain overwhelmed you, every nerve on fire, boiling like lava. You tried everything to alleviate the pain, even touching yourself in the hopes that an orgasm would lessen the effects, but it did nothing physically, leaving you emotionally worse for the wear. 

When your hands slipped across your sweat-slick, nerve-wracked skin you thought of Dean. The way he made you laugh. The way he smiled when he watched terrible horror movies. The way his green eyes saw through your tough exterior into the softness beneath. The way his muscled arms gathered around you, allowing you to find a home in the most unlikely of places. In that moment, there was a brief respite, your heart lightening every so slightly at the thought of home, only to be jerked back to reality when you realized he was gone. All you wanted was for the pain to subside. To feel okay again.

A heavy knock on the motel room door alerted you to Sam’s presence. “Y/N, it’s me. I have more medication and some food for you.” 

Grunting in agony, you called for him to come in, noticing the softness in his eyes as he touched your head with the back of his hand. ‘I’m fine, Sam. You can just leave the stuff on the table.”

“You’re burning up,” he said, running to the bathroom to grab some water so that you could take your pills.

He placed the pills into your quaking hands and watched you take them, your eyes numb and forward-facing. “You’re gonna be okay.”

“I can’t do this,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. 

“What?”

“The pain!” You snapped through clenched teeth. “It’s even worse now, I can’t, I-” Lifting your head, you saw the sorrow in your soul reflected in his eyes. “Sam, help me. Please.”

He knew what you were asking and he shook his head, standing up quickly from his place at your side and pacing across the room. “No, Y/N, I can’t.”

With every ounce of strength you had, you crawled to the end of the bed, begging. “Sam, this pain is overwhelming. I don’t trust anyone else, and I can’t do this anymore. I trust you. Please, Sam. Please.”

You gasped as Sam wrapped his arms around you, his cock straining against his jeans. 

“You’re Dean’s,” he said matter-of-factly, almost more for himself than for you. “I can’t.”

“I’m sorry,” you said as you sobbed into his chest. You repeat yourself over and over again, hoping it would absolve you of the overwhelming guilt that blanketed you - mind, body and soul. 

----

After you threw yourself at Sam, he started distancing himself. Of course he came to check on you multiple times a week, he helped you find a legitimate job, ensured you had enough food and money and medication to survive your heightened heats, but that was it. Whether it was because of what you’d done or how he felt about you, you weren’t sure. You hadn’t the strength or desire to ask, figuring it didn’t truly matter either way. 

Each day was an exercise in strength, with you going through the motions despite the desire to let go. A year passed.

Then one morning, you woke up with the knowledge that your heat was, in fact, here again. Even though it continued to come every three months as it always had, you could swear you were constantly in the throes of it. Your body hurt, muscles heavy, nerves always on fire to some degree. It never ended. Nor did your thoughts of Dean. Essentially, you remained because you were too scared to die. That and hope. There was a sliver of it still lingering, even though its presence tore you to shreds day in and day out. 

At your desk job, you clamped your legs together, wishing that someone out there could satiate your hunger. The medication had done a bit to tamp down your physical pain, enough where you could work without much interruption, but the sexual aspect of your heat still remained in full force. 

You made it through another day and began to walk back to your motel room, but it was just a room. Home had evaporated when Dean had been taken from you. As you walked down the street, passing playing children and the occasional speeding car, you inhaled the cool air in the hopes that it would refresh you - bring you back to the land of the living - only to be hit with the scent of musk and evergreen.

A warmth spread over you and a smile returned to your face for the first time in months. It smelled so much like Dean, like being wrapped in his arms all those years ago when he first taught you how to shoot. The feeling of peace quickly left you and you cursed the gods for their inequity, tears running down your cheeks as you stormed through your motel room door. 

Collapsing into the bed, you pulled the matted pillow toward your head and sunk into the overly-used mattress, praying that the memory of the scent would stop torturing you when you awoke next. 

-----

Hours later, as the sun began to set, varying hues of pink and orange dabbling the dusky sky, you woke to the comforting yet torturing scent. But you were all cried out and instead attempted to move through it, as you had with most things for the past year. 

A knock on the door startled you. For a moment, you contemplated not answering. You really weren’t in the mood to talk to Sam right now. You’d text him later to let him know you were okay. With another thud, you swung the door open, ready to yell. “Dean?” You cracked. “Am I alive? Did I die in my sleep?”

Tired eyes smiled at you, happiness overtaking the misery that had filled them for so long. “You’re alive. It’s me, ‘Mega.”

“How?” 

“Do you really want to know right now?”

With a disbelieving chuckle, you replied. “No.” 

Reaching out, you grabbed him by the collar of his t-shirt and pulled him toward you, lips hungrily finding his without hesitation or thought. He sunk into your kiss, practically collapsing into you as he crossed the threshold into the room and kicked the door closed behind him. “‘Mega, I need you.”

In an instant, you were home again, arching into his hurried kisses. Frantic hands grabbed at the hem of your t-shirt and slipped it over your head before snaking his fingers underneath the straps of your bra. 

“You have me, Alpha.”

You jumped into his embrace and wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling at the material of his shirt like someone starved of all sustenance. When your fingers found his muscled chest, you moaned at the feel of him underneath your fingertips. He’d been gone for more than a year, but here he was, in the flesh; he was real. 

Dean walked you toward the bed and tripped into it, falling onto the mattress with you pinned beneath him. He let out a breathy laugh and collapsed into the side of the bed, kneeling before you as he peeled your pants and panties down your legs and threw them to the floor. “You were my last thought before closing my eyes,” he said, biting and sucking patches on your inner thighs. “My first thought in the morning. You kept me going, ‘Mega.”

Whining, you bucked up into his mouth and grasped his hair, pulling him closer to your heated sex. With every swipe of his tongue up your slit, you felt yourself melt into his embrace - a stillness overcoming you despite your desperation for his touch. “Alpha,” you breathed.

You shimmied yourself off the bed before him. “Need your knot. Need to taste you.” 

“Oh fuck,” he choked out as you licked your lips and slipped them over his swollen cock. “‘Mega, ‘M, not-” He braced himself, his grip white-hot against the sheets as he towered over you.

“Don’t care.” You hastily tugged his jeans and boxers down just far enough to grab his cock. Hungrily, you slid your hands up and down in tandem with your mouth. Each pass left trails of spit dripping down your chin and onto the floor. But you didn’t care. Looking up, you saw Dean at peace for the first time in years, mouth agape, muscles taut, unthinking. 

When you moaned around his length and reached your hand between your legs, he couldn’t take it anymore. He lifted you up onto the bed and crawled up the length of your body, laying hungry open-mouthed kisses along your pliant flesh as he kicked off the remainder of his clothing. You managed to lift your head to find his mouth again, whimpering at the sight of the dark flesh of his knot. How he came back, what he did when he was gone, what you’d gone through in his absence, none of it mattered - not when it came down to it. He was yours and you were his, scars and all. 

Climbing onto the bed, he moved your head toward the headboard and up against the pillow, placing his cock at your entrance before effortlessly slipping inside. 

“Fuck, Alpha. I need you. Need you to knot me.”

Dean chokes out an incoherent word or two, groaning as he hastily slides his hand into your hair. Teeth scrape along the side of your neck as he pumps into you, his knot swelling with each thrust. There’s no grace in either of your movements as he fucks into you, bucking into each other as if your lives depend on it. 

As his knot rolled into you, connecting you both, you cried out and bit down on his shoulder, only to scream out again when his teeth found a spot on your neck just below your ear. Whenever you’d heard of omegas and their alphas before, about the connection between them and the wholeness they felt being claimed, you’d never understood it - but you did now. 

Every atom in your body felt connected with his. It was deeper than anything you’d ever felt before. “Alpha!” You cried into his waiting mouth. 

Thick, hot streams of come filled your insides as he trembled above you, lips finding yours in a desperate attempt to make this last forever. To stay in this moment.

When his eyes found yours, he let out a strangled laugh, thumb rubbing over the spot where he’d claimed you. “‘Mega, I’m not the same man I was.” Already, he was trying to run. But you wouldn’t allow it.

“I know,” you said softly before kissing his forehead. “We’ll figure it out, okay? Where were you? What happened?”

He fell to your side and gathered you close, slipping himself back into your slick heat, needing the closeness. To stay here for just a moment more. Relaxing your head against his chest, you listened as he told you what happened after Dick Roman’s death. Strained words and shattered breaths made you realize he wasn’t telling the whole truth, but he was saying what he could, and for now, that was enough.

Purgatory. He was in Purgatory. Surrounded by monsters every day.

“Thing is…” He started, trailing off almost immediately.

“What is it?” You asked, clenching your walls around his cock. Anything to take his mind off the horrors he’d witnessed. “Dean, you can tell me.”

“Thing is, there was a peace in it. Fighting day in and day out. The routine of it. I-I liked it. The killing. What does that make me?” 

You tipped your head up to kiss the underside of his chin, finding the salty taste of his tears. “It makes you human. It makes you a hunter, Alpha.” Dean dipped his head to kiss the mark he’d given you, massaging your breasts as you spoke. “There is something I want you to know though.”

“What is it?” He asked. 

“After you died, I thought you were gone forever. And the stress of it all made my heats so much worse than they ever had been. And I-” You broke, a sob bubbling in your throat.

“It’s okay, ‘Mega. I promise, it’s okay.”

“Nothing happened between us, but I threw myself at Sam. It’s been eating at me ever since it happened. I love Sam, but I love him like my brother and I never wanted it to happen. He turned me down, because I’ve always been yours,” you said quickly, trying to get it all out and breathe at the same time. “I was just so desperate and so alone and-” 

Grasping your chin, Dean turned your head toward his and cut you off with a searing kiss. “We have some guilt to deal with, I guess,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. He slid his hands down your arms, fingers entwined with yours. “Together?”

Whisper soft, you replied. “Together.”

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2019 Day 29: Spy/Assassin AU

ARTEMIS | @galaxystiel Rating: Explicit Word Count: 169024 Main Tags and Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of Violence, AU, Human!AU, Spy/Secret Agent AU, Minor Character Death, Major Character Injury, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Terminal Illness, Hate Sex, Slow Burn, Amputation, Enemies To Lovers, Croats, Summary: It was the twenty-first century, and every department had their own covert operatives to accomplish their various needs. ARTEMIS was exactly that for DARPA, the research and developmental side of the Department of Defense. The team was made up of ex-Special Forces soldiers who had unparalleled intelligence, to also specialise in various relevant areas of science. Essentially, a team of killer scientists. Dr. and Commander Dean Winchester had been selected especially for this mission.

There Will Be Time | @wigglebox Rating: Mature Word Count: 15001 Main Tags and Warnings: Beaches, Crimes & Criminals, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Love Confessions Summary: Dean and Cas have the same job on opposite ends of the country. They break the rules, but never their own. Once they meet, everything is up in the air.

All Your Lies | @spearywritesstuff Rating: Explicit Word Count: 102484 Main Tags and Warnings: AU, Spy!Dean, Spy!Castiel, Canon Typical Violence, 1950s Summary: When Sam is captured in East Berlin, in the summer of 1953, there is some fear that he’ll be lost to them forever. However, Agent Dean Winchester catches a lucky break. His agency has captured a KGB agent. They’ve negotiated prisoner exchanges before, but only after they had extracted what secrets they could. And Dean has enviable skills when it comes to interrogations. His prisoner, Dmitri Krushnic, though, seems to know too much, and he also seems to be somehow familiar. The more time he spends with the prisoner, the more questions he has, about the past, about what he lost in the war, and about the truth that he wasn’t ready to see.

I Don't Know Why | @saltnhalo Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16500 Main Tags and Warnings: Spy Dean, Assassin Cas, hurt/comfort, top Cas, bottom Dean, strangers to lovers Summary: Dean gets home from a long job to find a note on his front step. He knows exactly who it's from and what it means; it promises fun and danger and a fucking good time, and there's no way he can turn down this invitation. He can never say no to the Angel.

Kiss Me, Kill Me | @saltnhalo

Rating: Mature Word Count: 4668 Main Tags and Warnings: Alpha Cas, assassin Cas, omega Dean, assassin Dean, true mates Summary: Seasoned hitman Castiel Novak is just looking to take out his target and get paid, but should've accounted for the fact that he may not be the only assassin at tonight's party... Cue the mysterious, green-eyed man who is more of a match for Castiel than anyone he's ever met.

Domestic and Deadly (WIP) (Series) | @lemonsorbae Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3101 Main Tags and Warnings: Love/Hate, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, FBI Agent Dean Winchester, FBI Agent Castiel (Supernatural) Summary: Victor wants him dead. That's got to be the only explanation for this bullshit.

[my-sherlock221b]

My Wincest ficrecs

I started this rec list a while ago and then real life got super hectic but I have been travelling for  work and continuing to download and read ridiculously enormous amounts of wincest fics!! Have been very bad about going back online later and giving kudos or posting comments even though some of them were just amazing! So instead, as atonement, I am going to rec them here and I hope some of you who read them will send the authors much love and kudos and comments.

I will keep adding to this list as I keep reading and someday may even get organized enough to have little sub categories..... ( wishful thinking!!) so go ahead and enjoy these! Heed the tags in each individual fic.

1. https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094764?view_adult=true

My Love, the Pleasure's Mine by Eugara

Author’s summary: Season 3. While investigating a rash of magically-induced hook ups, Sam and Dean get hit with a fuck or die curse. It would be a lot easier to deal with if the witch wasn't being such a smug bitch about it all.

--It is a delightful story which gets Dean’s inner voice so absolutely perfect it’s a joy to read!Tons of angst and feels and a casefic as well as sex of course.

Some hilarious and perfect parts I have to quote here:

“Don’t worry, I’m sure my brother’s card will work.” He tries to communicate the name issue to Sam using only his eyebrows, but he probably just looks like he’s having a small seizure. Luckily, Sam is fluent enough in Dean-ese to catch his drift. He steps forward, pulls out his money clip, skips over a couple of possibly risky cards, and hands the clerk their brand-est, shiny-est, new-est American Express. He’s also doing a very good job of not looking like he wants to set his brother on fire with his brain. Dean’s so proud. 

…….

Dean lies on the cheap comforter for a few minutes, then shifts his head to the side and calls out, “Hey, Sam. D’you think that ‘fraud’ could be the name of a bird?” Sam pops his head out again, holding a washcloth this time, and gives Dean a weird look. “Y’know, like a ‘black-breasted fraud’ or something.” Dean kicks off his boots as best as he can without unlacing them. “‘Ivory-frauded warbler’.” Sam just stares at him like he’s lost his mind, then shakes his head in mock exasperation and ducks back out of sight.

…..

Sam looks adorably touched at Dean’s stupid little display of affection and gives him a much broader smile in return. Dimples and everything.

��..

They eat shitty sausage pizza, and watch some mind-numbing documentary Sam found about health insurance, and recover until the sun goes down. 

 2. If the dam breaks open many years too soon deirdre_c

Author’s summary: Sam’s soul springs a leak, and Dean’s the one who can repair it.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/559187

 My favourite lines:

Dean is an asshole.

My Favourite Lines:

Dean is an asshole.

Okay, Sam will admit Dean can be heroic and generous and loyal and stupidly sentimental, but the rest of the time he’s a fucking asshole. Especially right now.

 .

Dean is nesting. That’s the only way Sam can describe it. He discovers Craigslist and spends hours dragging Sam around the streets of the Upper West Side bargaining with old ladies and empty nesters over a sofa and lamps, a table and an old television.

It’s amusing and bemusing, this new side of Dean. He buys towels and an ottoman and a colander and other mundane things Sam never would have imagined Dean caring about. Sam purchases the few items he needs for his room—an old double bed that’s slightly too short, a nightstand, a desk—and leaves it at that. Dean on the other hand, is displaying an unexpected talent at trash-picking and trolling estate sales and is swiftly filling up the apartment with stuff.

3. The Bedtime series by Marie_Tomas

https://archiveofourown.org/series/219962

 After a night of drinking, Sam and Dean accidentally cuddle. Sam secretly likes it, but Dean seems to hate it. Then it happens again, and again, and again.

 My summary: A very sweet series with lots of fluff and shmoop and eventually some sex too. But is a slow burn, lovely fic with an endearingly confused Sam and a canon compliant Dean who wants nothing to do with expressing feelings or heaven forbid TALK about what is going on  but finds himself wanting to cuddle Sam every night and going slightly mad because he can’t accept why.

 4. Convince Me by WincestSounds (Cammerel)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/721717/chapters/1338514

Sam proposes that he and Dean disguise their selves as a gay couple, looking to become parents, while on a case dealing with Changelings. They end up getting a lot more than they were expecting.

My notes: Beautiful characterization of Dean, revealing his sensitive side. Very sensual and hot sexy times and a parent!fic done superbly.

 5. I feel your hunger in your touch by whispered_story

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13314924

Sometimes, in a post-hunt rush or when emotions are running too high, they have sex, but it doesn't mean anything. They don't talk about it, but there's an unspoken rule between them: They are always back to normal the next day and they never let it affect their relationship.

Until Dean sneaks into Sam's bedroom in the bunker one night and changes the rules on him.

6. The Claiming by waywardelle

https://archiveofourown.org/works/5166644

Read everything by this author!!

At age 32, Sam Winchester presents as an Omega. No one is more surprised than Dean, the Alpha who's been pining over his little brother all his life. Canon divergence after scene with Piper in 11x04, "Baby."

 7.  jesus christ, dad, i sure hope not

https://candle-beck.livejournal.com/117393.html

Again-would recommend everything by this author!

Dean gets stuck in his head like a song sometimes. It's usually when Sam is tired or sick or bored out of his skull, and he's learned to take it as it comes. It's no good fighting it.

It's another thing they can blame on their father. He gave Sam to Dean seventeen years ago, and there Sam has remained, locked into his brother exactly as far as Dean is locked into him. John put them in the back of a car and drove around for a decade while only occasionally glancing over his shoulder to check on them, and in the meantime Dean became every constellation and every guidepost, the single element of Sam's life that has never changed.

  8. Give the Lie by dreamlittleyo

It turns out Dean was wrong when he said there was no such thing as unicorns. It also turns out that when a unicorn steals your memories, you have to play nice to get them back. But what's a Winchester to do in the meantime?

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/178577

A lovely crack-y fic with a case and amnesia and romance and angst and a happy ending !

9. Five Times Dean Winchester Accused His Brother of Being the Antichrist and One Time Sam Actually Was (But Dean Didn’t Care) by leonidaslionhttps://archiveofourown.org/works/402101/chapters/662748

Brilliant and funny! I would recommend anything by this author!

10.  charmer & gentle by Askance

A delightful little fic about an outside POV on the relationship between Sam and Dean.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4932184

The afternoon girl calls them Big and Tall, the strangers who come in late every now and then, buying this or that. The night girl doesn't think those names fit quite right.

[pagesofivy]

The Omega Breaking Point

Request: Anon: “Alright so you’re an omega that lives with three alphas (Cas Dean Sam) and they always treat you like this thing that’s incompetent and can’t take care of themself so when they again deny you the right to come on their hunt you leave the bunker only leaving a note, and it breaks cas’s heart cuz he’s in love with you.. anyways you end up in trouble and they save you!”

Warnings: ABO universe, lil bit of angst, danger, canon-typical violence, briefest insinuated rape type thing,

Word Count: 3368 (I’M SO PROUD)

Beta: @quilliamfears

A/N: The A/B/O rules in this fic are sorta bland, it’s more a social status than anything here. This is mostly in Cas’ point of view, except the beginning part and the end. Also I made a James Patterson book reference in here, see if you can find it! Please be aware there are a lot of time skips in this, indicated by the breaks. POV switches are marked with “////” 

As much as you love Cas and the Winchesters, those stupid Alphas only ever treat you like breakable glass due to your Omega status, even though you were a hunter long before you met any of them. You can handle your own, and they all three seem to forget that any time a case comes up lately, because this is the third case you’ve had to sit out on in two weeks. All it is, is a simple salt and burn in the next town over, but nope, you’re not allowed to go, put under house arrest essentially, and it makes you want to scream. What gives them the right?! You’re just as good at hunting as any of them, given the chance.

The boys are all three packing up for the case, apparently it could be a ghoul instead so they’re all three going, but they won’t let you, telling you that you need to stay back. Again. You suck it up and pretend to be over it, but all the while as they’re packing up, you’re planning. You can’t stay here, not when they treat you like this, like you’re useless and incapable of anything except running the fucking house.

The boys leave, giving you hugs and ignoring your petulant pout, and as soon as you hear the Impala rumble away into the distance, you get to work, grabbing two of your duffles and shoving all your stuff in them. You nab a few weapons from the armory and throw them in as well, just to be safe. Lastly, you grab the picture frame sitting beside your bed, huffing out a sigh. The picture inside is one of you and the boys, grinning as you squish in between the two brothers with Cas looking mildly confused, and you smile fondly at the memory of the day the picture was taken.

Sam and Dean were arguing over what type of food to get- Sam wanted salads and healthy stuff, of course, while Dean was petitioning for burgers, fries, and pies. Castiel was watching them intently, trying to understand the minute details of their interaction, still not fully comprehending the connection between the two brothers. You were sitting in a chair a little ways away, hiding your laughter behind a fond smile as you watched the entire thing. They looked so much like a family- hell, they were your family, and you felt a sudden, intense need to take a picture of them. You’d tried to do it sneakily, but then you’d left the flash on, and they all noticed. Though you expected them to get upset and scold you, Sam just grinned and motioned you over, then took your phone and held it out with his long moose arms. He pulled you close and Dean stood on your other side. They pulled Cas in behind you, though he wasn’t quite sure what was going on- he still hadn’t gotten the hang of cellphone photography yet either- and Sam snapped a couple pictures. Most of them were blurry, but there was one that was perfectly clear, and you’d gotten it printed out as soon as possible, putting it in a frame and keeping it on your shelf in your room.

You shake your head sadly, pulling yourself from the memory, and carefully place the frame in your bag, zipping it shut. You grab a pen and paper and write a note explaining why you left, that you’re tired of how they’ve treated you, and that you don’t want them looking for you because they can’t respect you as a hunter or a person and only see you as your biological status anymore, which hurts more than you can explain. You never thought that your family would hurt you this way, but they’ve proven you wrong, and so it’s time for you to be on your own.

Setting the note on the counter, you look around one last time and head to the garage, climbing into your car and driving off, ignoring the fact that you’re leaving behind everything you’ve known for years and the angel you’ve loved.

////////////

When the boys get home a few days later, they don’t expect you to be waiting anxiously for them, you never do when you’re peeved at them for leaving you behind, but the bunker is suspiciously empty, all three of them getting the sense of something being off as they walk in. It’s like the air is dead almost, and it puts them all on edge. They spread out, guns at the ready, and explore until Sam calls for them and Dean and Cas come running.

Sam stands in the kitchen, a piece of paper in his hand and a heartbroken look on his face. “It.. It’s from (Y/N). She left. She’s… She’s gone. She says that she’s tired of how we treated her, like she’s only an Omega and not a hunter or person.. She calls us family but says that family must mean heartache and pain, and that she thinks it’s time for her to be on her own. She doesn’t want us looking for her…”

Dean snatches the letter out of Sam’s hands and reads it, rereads it, his eyes going over her words repeatedly, not believing it. He looks up at Sam with wide eyes, then holds the letter out to Cas, who just shakes his head sadly.

“No, I feel that she is not here, I don’t need her words to confirm it.” He says quietly, and the boys stare at him in bewilderment. Castiel feels their confusion and shrugs, eyeing the floor. “I… I believe I am in love with her. I know her scent and it’s only faintly here, nearly absent. She’s gone and has been for a while. Because… Because I treated her as less.” Cas looks ashamed and walks away, head hanging low and shoulders slumped.

Dean looks over at Sam and cocks an eyebrow, to which Sam responds with a shrug. “I dunno how you hadn’t figured it out, they both love each other and just wouldn’t admit it. Even a blind man could see it, Dean. Are we going to look for her?” Sam asks, and it’s Dean’s turn to shrug.

“I don’t know man. She says not to, but since when do we not go look for family?” Dean feels torn, wanting to fix things but not wanting to make things worse. He feels guilty for how he treated you, even though he was just trying to keep you safe. It’s not that he thought you weren’t capable, he knew you could kick some serious ass, he just didn’t want you to have to.

“We’ll look for her then. Our bags are still packed, we might as well. Go find Cas, I’ll pack up try to ping her cell.” Dean nods and goes to find Castiel while Sam settles in at his laptop, plugging it in and getting to work making calls and trying to find her location with the gps.

A few hours later and Sam has her last known location, a town called Stillwater, Nevada, and they’re off, piled into the Impala and trying to ignore the moping angel in the back seat. Sam pulls up information on the town, trying to figure out why she decided to stop there. But then there’s articles on the town and some incidents that scream supernatural beings, and Sam dives fully into researching while Dean drives and Cas stares off into space, his face an unreadable blank slate that neither of the brothers want to discuss just yet.

They pull into the nearest motel and Dean goes to get them a room while Sam unloads the car, checking (Y/N)’s last known GPS location again. When Dean returns with the room keys, Sam speaks up. “Guys, the last place her phone was active is about a five minute drive from here. I think she’s hunting a vetala, has she taken them on before? Does she know they hunt in pairs?” Worry fills Sam and Dean, and they turn to consult with Cas, only to see him poof away. The brothers let out twin sighs of irritation before taking their stuff into the room and trying to form a plan to find (Y/N) and take out the vetalas.

/////////

Castiel, angel of the Lord and leader of a garrison, is powerless to save the woman he loves. He resigned himself to that as soon as he walked into the bunker and felt your absence. It feels like a piece of his heart is missing and he’s angry because he doesn’t know how to get it back, how to get you back. He realizes he messed up, and he wants to make things better, but he can’t do it when he can’t find you, and right now, you’re invisible to him. He curses himself for putting the enochian warding sigils on your ribs, though only for a moment, because logically he knows the symbols have kept you alive more than once. But logic is hard for Cas when it comes to you.  

He sits on the ground and tries to calm himself with some meditation, center himself and focus, but his mind is all awhirl with worry for you. He forces himself to take deep breaths and focus on you, on your smile, your laugh, and the way you look after a hunt, the happy memories he has of you, because if he can hone in on you, maybe, just maybe, he can hear your thoughts.

After what feels like hours of silent focus, Cas gets a hint of your voice. Quiet at first, but it gets stronger, until it’s just one long scream of pain. Castiel tries to pinpoint your location, but he can’t, and he’s frantic. He can feel his wings unfurling and shaking, distressed at not being able to find his mate- well, not officially his mate yet but he’s determined to change that once they find you- who is obviously in pain.

Castiel eventually gets his emotions under control and makes his way to the motel room, pacing, too agitated to stay still as Dean outlines the plan. They’re going to leave Cas out of it until they’re sure it’s her, and then Dean will pray to him, Cas will to show up, and he’ll take (Y/N) out of there, wherever there is, to somewhere safe. He’s then going to heal her and take care of her until the brothers get back. Cas is to listen, try and find her via their connection, and if he finds her first, he has to call the brothers for backup before going in and saving her. Castiel doesn’t like being left out until the end, but he understands that it’s necessary, especially if they’re going to save (Y/N) the right way.

“Can you handle that, Cas?” Dean asks, grabbing onto Castiel’s shoulders, and Cas shakes himself from his thoughts, nodding once.

“I can handle that, Dean. I’ll keep listening.” He says, and the brothers share a look, then start packing their stuff and head out. Castiel climbs onto the middle of a bed and settles in, focusing his thoughts and energy on searching for her, desperate to find the other half of his heart.

It’s only a few hours later when he hears Dean’s voice, declaring their discovery, and Cas is there in a blink, eyes wild, appearance disheveled. The minute he lays eyes on her, Cas has (Y/N) in his arms and gone, back to the motel room, and he lays her gently on the bed. She’s bloody, beaten and bruised, her clothes shredded, and when Castiel sees the bruises on her thighs, his vision goes momentarily red. How dare anyone touch his mate in such a way! Cas’ wings rise, mirroring his agitation, and just as he’s about to storm out to find the monster, (Y/N) moves, just barely, the quietest whimper ever leaving her lips, and Castiel is right beside her, taking her hand and holding it carefully, sending healing warmth into her, desperate to ease her pain as much as he can. Without her conscious, he can’t assess how much damage is done, too afraid to touch her and make things worse, so he watches her face expectantly, willing her to wake up.

She moves again, squeezes his hand back, and his heart nearly sings at the response. “C-Cas?” She asks weakly, her voice hoarse, and she opens her eyes just a little, squinting up at him.

“Yes, it’s me (Y/N). What can I do for you? How can I help you, Omega?” He murmurs, reaching up and stroking a strand of hair off her face, infusing his touch with healing, desperate to fix her.

“He- he hurt me e-everywhere Alpha; I hurt a-all over. C-can you heal me? A-and water, my throat-” Before she can say more, Cas has a glass of water conjured, and his fingers pressed on her forehead, sending his grace through her body, healing every cut, scrape, and bruise on her battered body. She lets out a relieved sigh when she’s fully healed and carefully sits up, taking the glass of water from Cas. He watches her closely, eyes tracking every movement she makes, and she flushes under his gaze. “Thank you for saving me.” She whispers, and Castiel knows that he should just be thankful she’s alive and okay and back with him now, but unexpected anger rises in him and he bristles.

//////////

“You left.” Castiel’s voice is accusing, and the hurt underlying it makes your heart ache. Yes, you’d left, but you’d had your reasons- good reasons. You hadn’t expected anyone to be too upset about it, but apparently you were wrong.

“I- I did Castiel.” You reply cautiously, frowning and pulling your knees up to your chest like a barrier. You’re not sure what else to say, and Cas’ unreadable expression is focused on you intently, like he’s trying to read your mind.  

“Why?” That single word and the broken, defeated way Castiel asks, shatters your heart. Of course he wouldn’t understand, he’s an angel and an Alpha. You scuff your toe against the floor, not wanting to look at Cas when you explain, but before you can say anything, Sam and Dean are bursting into the room, looking a little rough around the edges but nothing worse than usual. They both smile at you when they meet your eyes, and you move to give them each hugs, but Dean holds his hands up, stopping you.

“While I’m glad to see you safe and healed, (Y/N), but we’re covered in Vetala guts, and we’re pissed at you for leaving. So, no hugs just yet. I’m going to shower, and I’m sure Sam wants to too, and then you owe us an explanation, more than that damn note you left.” Dean’s tone leaves no room for argument and you nod your head meekly.

“I- I’m going to go to my room and shower too. I need to change out of these ripped clothes and get my stuff.” Cas’ head snaps up and his eyes are narrowed on you, practically giving away what he’s thinking. “And don’t worry, I won’t try to run again. Cas, if it’ll make you feel better, you can come with me to make sure I don’t.” You offer with a shrug, though you feel tense. The thought of extended time alone with Cas, once you’re clean, fills you with thoughts that are anything but. You’d missed the angel, and him calling you “Omega” had only stoked the fire of your oncoming heat.

Castiel nods, satisfied, and the Winchesters exchange a glance before nodding also. “Yeah, that’s fine, we’ll all get clean and meet up here. Pizza, beer, and an explanation, around 6?” Dean suggests, and you grin, nodding as well.

“Yeah, pizza sounds good. And I’ll explain then too. See y’all in a bit.” You grab Castiel’s hand without much thought and walk out, heading towards your room. You don’t have your keycard though, as you realize when you search your pockets, and you curse quietly. “Hey, uh, Cas, can you poof us into my room? I don’t have my key…” You ask meekly, and before you can even blink, you’re inside. You send the angel a smile and let go of his hand, moving around and gathering your shower stuff and clean clothes before turning and looking at Cas. “Make yourself at home, I’m just going to shower, I’ll be out quick.” You instruct before going into the bathroom and shutting the door.

The shower is exactly what you need, the surprisingly warm water cascading down your body in a comforting way, washing off the grime you feel covering your skin. Afterwards you slip on your plaid shirt and jeans, reveling in the comfort they provide. You walk out and grab your brush, running it through your hair as you look around for Cas.

When your eyes meet his, it feels like the world has stopped. He walks towards you slowly and takes your brush from your hands, tossing it on the bed, then strokes his fingers along your cheek. “I thought we’d lost you… I couldn’t sense you.” He whispers, and you lean into his touch, biting your lip.

“I’m sorry Cas, I just... I couldn’t stay. I said so in my note.” You offer weakly, and anger flashes in his eyes as he shakes his head, frowning.

“Your note means nothing. You left your family, abandoned me. We were all frantic (Y/N). We… I… It hurt, that you’d left.” Cas finally decides on his words, and you take a step back, his hand hanging in the air for just a second before he lets it drop.

“I’ll tell you and I’ll tell the boys; I needed space. You weren’t treating me like an individual! You treated me like I was breakable and couldn’t hold my own ever! You all seemed to forget that I was hunting just fine on my own the moment I admitted I was an Omega! So yes, I left. I can’t live like that, Castiel. I am a human being that can do things on my own. I enjoy going out and saving people, Cas, hunting down the monsters that terrorize the world. And you guys weren’t letting me tag along to do that, so sorry if I fucking left to make a point!” You’re yelling by the end, anger flowing through your veins, and Castiel frowns before getting in your space, his hands capturing your face and his lips pressing to yours in a heated kiss.

Your anger fades almost instantly and you melt into his touch, kissing him back, and you only pull away to breathe. “What- what the hell Cas?” You ask, your voice shaky, and Castiel sighs, frustration written across his face.

“Do you not realize how I feel for you, (Y/N)? You are my mate, even if you don’t recognize it, and I have to protect you. I’m sorry you aren’t happy that we leave you behind on hunts, but I need you safe-” You chuckle humorlessly and shake your head, shutting Cas up pretty effectively.

“Cas, mates or no, you have no right to lock me in the bunker, alone, and unable to help. I need to be out hunting. I can take care of myself, despite what just happened. And you can protect me on hunts too, you know? I get you want me safe, but leaving me behind is the worst way to do that.” You inform him, and Castiel actually looks sheepish.

“I- I am sorry (Y/N). I didn’t realize… I was just concerned for your safety. Please, forgive me?” He asks, and you give him a soft smile, nodding before pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“I forgive you Cas. Now, c’mon Flyboy, let’s go talk to the boys and get some food, I’m starved. We’ll discuss the mate situation afterwards.” You give him a wink and grab his hand again, leading him out of your room to face the music that is Sam and Dean Winchester.

TAGS:

Forevers: @animefanatic1728 @quilliamfears @winchester-with-wings @mrswhozeewhatsis @myfand0msandm0re @feelmyroarrrr @danijimenezv @mogaruke @aikibriarrose @sea040561 @becs-bunker @meganwinchester1999 @letsdisneythings @gone-to-fight-the-fairies @autoblocked @ashengem

Mixed Cas and ABO tags:

@vintagevalentinexx @itsemmyb @castielspahdehrah @beriala @charliesbackbitches @crzcorgi @ellen-reincarnated1967 @gryffindorable713 @deerlululucy @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @mrsjohnsmith @manawhaat @growleytria @thegleegeneration @samtomydeanwinchester @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @supermoonpanda  @sis-tafics @amaranthinecastiel  @kittenofdoomage @ferferelli @iridianuniverse @the-morning-star-falls  @fangirling-instead-of-working @bkwrm523 @faith-in-dean @mamaimpala @winchesterfiesta @sleep-silent-angel @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @gadreelsforbiddenfruit @trenchcoats-and-bees @curliesallovertheplace @jencharlan @not-so-natural-spn  @thebunkerismyhome  @beachy2014 @fandom-book-nerd @katnharper @impossible-box @tia58 @deansleather @castiels-forbidden-angel  @sunriserose1023 @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @winchesterswoonathon @jotink78 @lucifer-in-leather @notnaturalanahi @howmanytuesdaysdidyouhave @babypieandwhiskey @mysaintsasinner @besslincoln-bruh @shelovesallthethings @revwinchester @klaineaholic @pinknerdpanda @quiddy-writes @taste-of-dean @alangel1895 @evilskank-inthemegacoven @there-must-be-a-lock @rockhoochie @winchestersmolder @hunterpuff @samanddeanwinchester67 @fangirling-instead-of-working @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @kayteonline @zanthiasplace @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @sams-sunshine @faegal04 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @avasmommy224 @spn-fan-girl-173 @emoryhemsworth

[amberandmetal]

Like home | Chapter 7

❖ Author: @waywardkitten

❖ Featuring: Wincest

❖ Warnings/Tags: Wincest, weecest, canon compliant, canon fuckery, a/b/o, Alpha!Dean & Omega!Sam, light violence, bullies, angst by the truckload, smut, feels, the whole shebang

❖ Rating: Teen & up

❖ Word count: 1580

❖ Beta: @trash0saurusrex

❖ Summary: A sort of rewrite of All hell breaks loose

❖ A/N: I swear this will be the last time i try to rewrite anything. This was pain, lol. Also, please comment on it; this fic has gotten so little response, esp the last chapter and I'm starting to fear you guys've grown tired of it?. Masterlist Feedback greatly appreciated and encouraged ♡

━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━

May 2nd 2007

Sam: 24 y/o

Dean: 28 y/o

Almost three and a half years, his own thoughts echoed in the empty space inside him. Three and a half years I refused him, three and a half years I acted as if I didn’t see, didn’t know, didn’t want. Three and a half years we could’ve had together, and now—..

Now he’s gone, that evil little voice residing in his mind supplied.

The skin on his knuckles split on the impact with the wall, but the pain got lost in translation somewhere halfway through his nervous system. He stared at the ripped skin, his eyes unwilling to focus.

    “Dean? Brought you this back”

Dean didn’t even gift Bobby with as much as a glance.

    “No, thanks. I'm fine.”

    “You should eat something”

    “I said I'm fine”

He took a swig of the half empty bottle of whiskey, not even noticing the liquid burn slicking it’s way down his throat. Everything hurt, yet he couldn’t feel a thing. He narrowed it down to the alpha part of him being so torn apart over losing it’s mate that it had gone numb and his human side, stubborn as ever, still screamed at the top of his lungs. It was like being cold and heated at the same time; it made him nearly lose his mind..

    “Dean... I hate to bring this up, I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time... we bury Sam?”

That almost made Dean laugh. A morbid feeling crawling in his stomach. He looked up at Bobby’s eyes, searching the warm coloured irises that matched the swirling whiskey in his bottle for any sign of insincerity, because surely he had to be joking?

Dean’s face hardened.

    “No.”

    “We could... maybe—”

    “What? Torch his corpse? Not yet”

Bobby continued to plead, urging Dean to come with him, to bury and leave Sam, like that was even an option. Dean fidgeted and ran his hands through his unkempt hair, greasy now after days of not showering.

    “...something big is going down – end-of-the world big”

     “Well, then LET IT END!”, Dean roared.

He didn’t know where the rage came from but he felt hollow and as if all that remained was fire licking up his insides and turning his heart into charcoal. 

     “You don’t mean that..”

Dean stood up at that, getting as close to Bobby as he dared without losing his control completely. The Alpha inside him awoken by the pain and growling and snarling low in his throat. The fire was behind his eyes now, almost blinding him, and it hurt. Everything was white hot and he hurt and he wanted the hurt to pay, he wanted everyone to pay.

    “You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough? HE WAS MINE!”

Bobby blinked at him at that last line but Dean didn’t care, everything ached and he needed to get it out, needed to scream some of it out or he’d go down with it.

    “.. he was mine and I rejected him, because I thought I was protecting him, again and again. For what?! I resisted! I lied to myself and everybody and to Sam! To protect him and I couldn’t even do that!  I'm done with it. All of it. And if you know what's good for you, you'd turn around, and get the hell out of here.”

A million and one emotions seemed to ghost over Bobby’s face: hurt, incomprehension, understanding, pity, anguish. His jaw worked as if in slow motion but no sounds came out so he just looked down, shaking his head.

And for some reason Dean couldn’t stand it. The panic started to burn bright in his veins, coursing through him to get a steelgrip on his heart. He couldn’t breathe.

He took one step forward and shoved the older beta

    “GO!”

Bobby just looked at him with shock and despair in his eyes. He could almost hear himself break as all the fight went out of him. There was no point, no use.

    “I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please, just go..”

    “You know where I'll be”, Bobby sighed with his back turned and then he was gone, leaving Dean alone with the cold body of his dead brother and for the first time since Sam’s death, Dean let the tears come.

━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━

He just sat there for a while, crying silently with his eyes fixed on Sam’s face. Every memory ran through his mind like a freight train; the day of the fire; Sammy’s first word being ‘Dean’ and the competing emotions of joy and jealousy on their father’s face; Sam knocking Gus out on the schoolyard for calling Dean a freak; that 4th of July in the field with the fireworks when Sam had been so beautifully happy; the first time they’d been with each other and the feeling of relief and utter happiness knowing he felt the same; the letter from Stanford, two years of agony and burying himself in booze, women and hunting; the indescribable feeling of seeing and touching again; the almost moment on the bridge and every single one thereafter; and Sam..lifeless and still warm in his arms.

   “You know, when we were little— and you couldn't been more than 5— you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, ‘Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know’. I just wanted you to be a kid... just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you... Keep you safe... Dad didn't even have to tell me, it was just always my responsibility, you know?..”

Dean wrung his hands and took a steadying breath that shook on the inhale.

    “..I got so caught up in protecting you I forgot everything else. I was so obsessed with what was best for you I didn’t stop to think about what you wanted or needed. The thought to ask didn’t even cross my mind… I know I kept blaming you for leaving, but god dammit man I know it was me. I know I rejected you and that’s why you left and I kept doing it, right? ‘Protect Sammy at all costs’... always keep you safe.. I should’ve made you happy instead, should’ve been there.. with you. And now..It's like I had one job... I had one job...and I screwed it up. I blew it. And for that, I'm sorry..” fresh tears fell and wet his cheeks “..I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. And now I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too. How can I? How am I supposed to live with that?”

He swallowed hard, chin wobbling as the fiery grip on his heart tightened.

    “What am I supposed to do? Sammy. God. What am I supposed to do?”

    “WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?!”

━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━

The soft notes of a Metallica ballad rang out through the speakers as Dean’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. He tried to push any thought of what he’d just done as far down in the back of his mind as he could, only focusing on getting back. The taste of the demon still lingered on his lips and he growled in disgust, licking his lips clean and spat out the window. A little voice rang curiously hollow in his thoughts ‘you just sold your soul’. 

Dean snarled and his knuckles turned white where he gripped the steering wheel. It was worth it, I did it for him, it was worth it, it was worth it, he repeated to himself again and again to drown all other thoughts out. He loosened his grip and turned up the volume on the old stereo.

“So close, no matter how far

Couldn't be much more from the heart

Forever trusting who we are

And nothing else matters”

Dean swallowed hard and pressed down harder on the gas, urging Baby to go just a little faster. The engine was straining, he knew, but right then he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“Never cared for what they do

Never cared for what they know

But I know

I never opened myself this way

Life is ours, we live it our way

All these words I don't just say

And nothing else matters”

Dean growled again, low and deep in his throat, mumbled ‘fuck it’ and put the pedal to the metal.

━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━

His heart leapt in his chest and did at least three extra beats.

    “Sammy?...thank god.”

Sam didn’t even have the time to finish the ‘Hey’ waiting on his lips before Dean stalked over to him and clashed their mouths together.

He didn’t even care that he whimpered. It was too close, too soon and too warm but he was too emerged in it to resurface; it was like a brief spark of sanity inside the madness and it hurt and it soothed and it practically vibrated within him.

Sam’s hands were immediately on him, up under the back of his shirt and Dean soon reciprocated, tangling his dirty fingers in even dirtier hair and not being bothered about that the slightest. Sam wasn’t cold anymore and that was the only thing Dean could care about.

In the end it would be worth it; he’d bought them a new chance together, even if that chance came with a deadline.

[ameliacareful]

Goodness

I think about how other people in the SPN universe perceive Sam and Dean.  I’m pretty sure they see them as a unit.  The Winchester brothers.  SamandDeanWinchester.  I wouldn’t be surprised if there are people who envy them their closeness.  Who wouldn’t want someone by their side who would genuinely let the world burn to save you?  Not to mention they are both tall and good looking, sons of one of the best hunters, John Winchester, friend to Bobby Singer.  They have an angel as a friend.  They’re hunter royalty, so to speak.  (Also crazy and, seriously, people who partner with them do not have long lives.)  

 From the outside, for all their bickering, the realities of their relationship with each other is mostly invisible.  Cas is the only one who sees it and he understands some of it, but he’s not human.

 Sam is deeply committed to Dean’s goodness, as is the show.  In 11.23 Alpha and Omega Chuck tells Dean the world will be fine without him because it’s got Dean…and Sam.  But the brothers aren’t nearly so simple as to be described as ‘good.’ Chuck tells Lucifer that the mark didn’t make him hate humanity, “The Mark didn't change you. It just made you more of what you already were.”  (11.22)

 When I thought about 11.02 (Form and Void) where Sam is infected and praying in the hospital chapel, the thing that stood out was Sam’s insistence that Dean deserved better.  Sam was only two, maybe three days away from having knelt in front of Dean so that Dean could murder him.  Even as he was waiting for Dean to cut his head off, Sam was insisting that Dean, the real Dean, was good.  Earlier in that season, when Dean slaughtered a room full of people, Sam was begging him to tell him it was ‘you or them.’ 

 Dean is not ‘good.’  Neither is Sam.  They are vastly complicated morally and I’m not the first note that Supernatural is about two serial killers.  They’ve killed more people and monsters under every range of possible circumstances than any living human being.  Part of what makes them so interesting is the struggle to find a morality in the mess of their lives.  I would say that both are committed to that, each in their own damaged way but that they are not always successful.

 Why is Sam so committed to Dean being a ‘good’ man?  Sam knows what Dean is and what he’s been and done, and he knows enough to remind Dean that they hunt but they also save people when it feels as if Dean has lost his compass in the wake of the MoC.  At some level he has to know that Dean is not a good moral compass for Sam—Sam is willing to stand up to Dean about this even when he won’t about most things in their lives.  Part of it is the show telling us that Dean is a hero, of course.  But it’s canon and the gap between what Dean does and what Dean supposedly is, is not really addressed even by Sam who has been the victim of Dean’s anger so many times.  

 Sam needs Dean to be good.  Perhaps because Sam is so convinced that he himself is not good.  Sam’s grasp on reality and his own sense of self have been stronger in Season 12 than any other season in years—Jarad Padelecki has given us a Sam who feels a little more relaxed than Season 10 and 11—and Jensen Ackles has given us a softer Dean.  Although there hasn’t been much acknowledgment of what has happened to Sam in the opening of the season Dean has listened to Sam and through Sam, to his mother, lashing out less and trusting a little more.  Dean still lashes out, though particularly at Mary but sometimes at Sam.  Dean’s demand that Sam pick a side was an example of Dean at his less than best.

 Sam has a long history of bad things happening when he picks a side.  Even when an outsider might think that Sam is making a reasonable decision, the show will often undermine that.  (Other people have written about the show’s double standard.) Sam no longer trusts his own moral compass and he can’t trust his own intellect.  Does Sam depend on Dean, his stone number one, to be good because it’s that or nothing?  Sam has no friends except Jody and hasn’t made friends in years.  Dean is the point of contact for everyone in their lives, including their mother.  Sam isn’t connecting to Mary the way Dean is.  Cas has a more profound bond with Dean.

 Sam is isolated.  He owns nothing and has learned over the years to own nothing.  Dean got the car and the music; Sam got pulled away from Stanford and other than a box of keepsakes, he’s pretty much stripped himself of much connection to people or things.  He clings to his hair as if it were his identity and in a way it is. It’s his only real self-indulgence. That and Netflix.  

 Sam needs Dean to be ‘good’ because it’s about all he has.