#Alpha!Demon!Dean

[altagraye]

Big Big Love part 11

part 11: Send Her my Love in Bedroom Hymns

Maia Age:28 

Sam age:31-32 

Dean age:35-36 

Roslyn age: 3 

Approximate year: 2014-2015 

Approximate season: 10 

TW!: SMUT, Cussing, depression, self-harming behavior (I don't condone or recommend, it's terrible), Alpha!Demon!Dean

Maia: 

Roslyn is three years old now. She grows so fast. Bringing her home from the hospital was no walk in the park. I had a lot to learn even with my built in Omega-mommy skills. There were tons of restless nights and don't even get me started on the teething! Raising a pup is definitely a team effort, Dean and I switching off so one of us can get some kind of sleep. Sometimes it was even a pack-wide effort. But I feel like I've gotten the hang of things by now. I'm so glad I have a multitude of cups of coffee to keep my engine running throughout the day. We moved into this inherited Bunker not too long ago, just last year I think it was? I like the layout, tons of rooms and a huge kitchen so I can actually learn how to cook something edible. It's like a maze down here. The only thing I hate about it is that there aren't any windows to the outside. I miss looking out the glass on rainy days. Oh well, It's easy for me to lose track of time. 

I was so relieved that, on the day that shook my core, Ros had stayed the weekend at Bobby's. I was sitting at the mapped table reading through some of the archived Greek literature books from the library of the bunker, late at night when I felt this terrible searing pain in my neck, where Dean's claim was. Sam told Dean to stop hunting but they never did. Can't take the hunter out of the Alpha after all. Now they were trying to stop the new big-baddie, Metatron. Dean, my poor Galahad was afflicted by this dumb Mark-of-Cain thing.  

But not even that would drag me away from him. We're soulmates. Dean tried to push me away from him but that only made me love him harder. I wasn't going to let him think that after all we've been through, that I was going to let some dumb scar come between us. 

The pain in my neck grew and grew like someone had been cauterizing it. I looked at it as best I could in a mirror but it was fading away. It felt like smoke slipping through my fingers, unable to grab it back. I wasn't a worry-wort or negative-Nancy but I knew something was gravely wrong. i called Dean's phone and all I got was a snooty answering machine and a dial tone. I must have called him twenty times before I went to Sam's phone. I left tons of messages on his cell and other cells he had.  

"Sam! What the Hell is going on?! Dean always answers when I call. My claim is breaking, please I'm terrified. I don't know what's happening. Call me back or text me fuck's sake, you have your hands off the wheel anyway." 

"Gods-dammit, Sam. How many of these do I have to leave? I thought you were the smarter one? I'm gonna slash you up when you guys get home!" I ended the phone call, with my blood boiling. I checked on my claim again, the last raised bump fading within seconds, into smooth skin. Like it had never happened. What the fuck is going on? I prayed to Cas multiple times and he didn't answer me either. Not even a poof or a flap of those unruly feathers.  

I sat with my head in my hands and started to cry when I heard the distinctive creak of the front door of the Bunker come open. I was beyond pissed. So I let loose. 

"Sam!! Where in the fuck have you guys been? It's 2 o'clock in the morning. You've better smote the shit out of this dick-bag Angel or I'm going to explode." I turned to see Sam carrying Dean down the steps. My mate's body was limp, he had gashes on his face, now pale. And I could smell iron in the air. Whatever it was it must have been a rough fight. My hand covered my mouth and I started to cry. Who dares to hurt my Alpha? My mind was down playing the scene. Sam looked exhausted and his eyes were red and puffy like he'd been weeping for a while.  

I followed them down to our room where Sam set his body down. His clothes covered in patches of his own blood. A deep hole burrowed into his chest.  

"Wh- wh- what happened??? Alpha? D-dean Winchester you better answer me! Wake up!" I slapped his face for good measure. His head cast to the side and didn't bounce back. It was then that I knew he was gone. I wept into his cold chest for hours, gripping where my claim used to be, until Sam came and pried me off him.  

It was easy for Sam to do judging by my small size and my natural Omega-ness. I could smell the liquor on Sam's breath. I never knew him to be much of a heavy drinker. Usually he'd share a beer or two with dean on occasion.  

With the door closed I couldn't bring myself to open it again for any reason. I cried myself to sleep. Only getting about three hours of Z's. I slept on the cold ground of the bunker unable to let myself be soothed by the softness of a bed. I heard Sam gathering supplies and keeping them down in the basement part of the bunker. He stayed there for a while. I didn't know what he was up to but I didn't care about anything.  

How am I going to tell this to Roslyn? I can't just say, 'Daddy's dead.' At that thought I broke even further, the reality sinking down deeper, bringing me to the bottom of the coldest seas.  

I thought about dying and all the different ways I could have done it. I knew where the silver bullets were stashed. Maybe I could take one of the cars from the garage and wrap it around a tree trunk? I couldn't bring my cowardly Omega ass to do any of it because of Ros. She still needs me. She can't lose both her parents at the same time.  

So to feel something once the sobbing had stopped I took one of my claws and made line after line of shallow cuts from my wrist to my elbow. I watched as the red beaded up to the surface to form a line.  

Dawn came and Sam was standing over me. I knew he was there but I didn't acknowledge his presence. I began to cut myself again and Sam held me up by my mutilated arm, examining it and my state of mind. I was crying, again, from shame.  

Sam lifted me up, one of his arms firm underneath my knees. He carried me to his bedroom, where I was nearly choked out by the intense pine smell. He put me on his bed. I stared at the fresh blood I had created trickling down from my wrist onto Sam's sheets.  

He'd undressed himself, wearing only boxers. And joined me in bed. If he wanted to claim and ruthlessly knot me so hard that I couldn't walk for three days, I would have been fine with that. But he didn't do either. Instead he licked my wounds to heal them. Apparently some Alpha's saliva has minor healing properties.  

We'd slept in his bed like normal impossibly broken people. Shattered into little tiny sharp shards. We picked each other's pieces up, little by little. Since I was now sharing Sam's bed, I had to bathe myself in scent blockers. I didn't want Roslyn getting the wrong idea and start calling Sam her dad instead. During the day I would put on a faux brave face for my daughter but at night when she was out like a light I would break again. Returning to Sam's bedroom, engulfing myself in pine and resorting to making slices in my arm. Sam would lick my wounds, so that Ros wouldn't see that I'd hurt myself.  

This was the routine for a while. Brave mask in the morning, Pine and blood at night. I was so broken that I didn't have room for tears anymore, just chronic dull numbness. My heats were back to a monthly cycle once Ros was born. So Sam was apprehensive the night my heat hit, without Dean's claim to protect me.  

When I'd just finished carving myself up, waves of fever wracked my body. I tried hard to muffle my ecstasy filled moans, not wanting to wake Roslyn a few rooms over. I managed to remove all my clothing. My slick covering my inner thighs and making a mess on his bed.   

I didn't even try to masturbate, knowing it would only make my heat worse. Every inch of my body was covered in a layer of sweat. Sam came in. All it took was the opening of the door and a waft of my thick strawberry scent and a look of my naked form to send him into rut.  

He'd closed the door and locked it. He took he clothes off down to his boxers and let his form overshadow me. His pine scent was purely intoxicating. It made me moan louder. He licked my wounds, like he did every night, but this time it was different. I made my core twitch with want. Once all the little cuts were healed up, he'd looked at my face, hazed over with need, my cheeks flushed and burning.  

"Must you make me beg?" I asked breathily. I knew even after all this time and his attempted rape, deep down, buried beneath all that debris, Sam had genuine feelings for me. With the obstacle gone, why not sprint for first place and get that gold trophy? He took the bait, unable to resist.  

He smashed his lips against mine into a sloppy, wet, kiss. I moaned softly into his flesh. I could feel his member aching to be inside me. He raked his clothed cock against my slickness. And nibbled at the right side of my neck, the opposite side of where Dean's claim had been. I could feel his fangs start to sink in, pricking into my skin. But he let go, instead moving down to my breast, taking my aroused and hardened nipple into his mouth. Biting the nub forcefully. His hand slithered down and found my folds.  

Long fingers dragging up and down my strawberry scented slick drenched core. He started to play with my clit when he stopped completely. Sam's style was rougher than Dean's. so I could only imagine what it was like with him in bed, and I wanted more. My heart skipped a beat at thinking about the size of his knot, wanting it to be at my base. Sam sat at the edge of the bed, contemplating.  

I came over to his back, looking over every toned muscle wrapped my arms through his and hugged his back tight to my breasts. I kissed his vertebrae where it met the bottom of his neck, that's as far as I could go with my height deficit. His long hair ticking my nose.I didn't want him to feel like I saw him as just happenstance. Just another Alpha opportunely placed in my path when I was feeling the absence of Dean. 

"Whatever is happening between, us, It's real." I tried to make him listen to truth. His hand touched mine and he'd escaped my hug. Grabbing his jeans and his plaid shirt. "Sam!" I started to plead. 

"I got to take a shower. Don't want her smelling you on me." He said leaving me in his room. Rejection again, by my second Winchester, for different circumstances. I don't understand, he was the one who had it going for me first and for a long time before I was finally sharing feelings for him. And now he won't take me up on my offer? Am I that much of a complicated Omega? That every man I've been with has to have a moral dilemma just to realize that they love me? 

He practically treats Roslyn as his own, especially after Dean's death. But he's tentative with that also, it's almost like he knows something I don't. Is there a secret he isn't telling me? I can't read Sam as easily I could Dean. And that frustrates the Hell out of me. Regardless he should know that he can talk to me. About Gods-damned anything. For the remainder of my heat that week he never joined me in his bed, so I resorted to wearing long sleeve shirt in the swelter of summer to hide my cuts. He took out his rut on vanquishing some Alphas who'd smelled me near by the bunker.  

Another month has passed since our buzz-kill. We haven't talked much since then. I started set out some of his favorite books for him since he got into that fight with some random demon, rendering his shoulder useless for time being. it was a bit funny seeing his arm slung up in that ridiculous looking fabric contraption. I continued my nightly ritual of scraping my claw against my flesh. Maybe if I do this often enough it'll leave dark lines? Tonight, I could feel my heat hitting again, with the blazing of sundown. Ros was fast asleep and Sam came in joining me in the kitchen. I was just finishing up washing dirty dishes that I made from a late dinner smorgasbord that I prepped for myself. The famous glutton-phase, numero-uno at the beginning of my heat.  

I inhaled his Pine, this is probably the last time I'm going to smell it tonight. Saddened by the thought of him leaving me, I extended my index claw and began my macabre work on the lines, digging in a bit deeper this time.  Sam growled low, his steps were full of purpose. He grabbed my bleeding arm and spun me around, pinning my lower back into the edge of the sink.  

"Maia! Stop this. Stop hurting yourself! Do you have any idea how disappointed seeing you like this makes me? What if you cut too deep and I'm not here? Cas is sick and out of the question. What if Ros found you, blacked out?" His pine was so overbearing now, it was hard for me to focus.  

"You don't think I haven't thought that through already? I can't stop. I can't stop it. Sam, can you help me feel something? Anything that isn't this noose around my neck? Don't you love me just a little?" Sam was a man of few words when it came to his way of loving. Instead he let his actions talk for him. He licked my fresh wounds until they'd healed. I kissed his lips needing that kind of tenderness from him. breaking the kiss I sucked in, he hasn't been this close to me in a month. I let his scent fall into my lungs and on the exhale I had to clench my legs together. I let out a controlled moan. I braced myself on the edge of the sink. My insides tightening and trembling for him.  

His eyes were mesmerizing like a bright kaleidoscope of hazel. He initiated more contact first. I didn't want to influence him, I needed us to be transparent. He sucked at the right side of my neck and slipped his free hand under my shorts and underwear, grabbing a fistful of ass. I was panting against his kneading touch, feeling my slick get thicker. I knew he could smell me.  his jeaned member present and grinding against my clothed slit. 

He left a hickey on my neck, marking it. I let out very breathy moans, needing to be quiet. He growled, leaving a sloppy kiss on my lips. His warmth left my ass cheek, making me think he was going to stop for the night a leave, again. Instead he held out his hand, "I know a place where we can be loud." I took it without hesitation and he walked me down past darkened corridors into the garage of the Bunker.  

He had some difficulty taking the Impala keys out of his breast-pocket but got it eventually. He opened up the back before he let me hop in, he raked a loving hand through my hair his eyes locking with mine.  

"Sam? You know this is real, right? We're authentic." I needed him to hear that. to know that our feelings weren't sparked out of our shared grief alone. he gave me a small smile and leaned down, his back bending, giving me a sweet- pine filled smooch. That's a yes. I took my shirt and shorts off, leaving my sandals next to the rear passenger tire. My undergarments were lacy and red. 

I helped out, gimpy, and took his pants off. I kissed and nibbled at his light stubble on his Adam's apple when I unbuttoned each of his buttons on his plaid shirt. That made him buck into me and send his free hand exploring into my underwear. He inserted one digit, making me gasp at the sudden penetration and wanting much more than just that. I took off his sling to completely remove his shirt and then replaced the odd contraption.  

He took out his finger and licked it clean, the look in his eyes as he did made me mewl against his chest. He let me get in first and he followed closing the door. I sat down in the middle like I normally would, my skin making contact with the cold leather seat. My cheeks were flushed again and I was near trembling. I scooted my butt forward in the seat, bringing my center to the forefront and resting the back of my neck against the edge of the seat.  

He kissed me again but this time he was much more forceful, letting his control slip a little. He ended the kiss by biting my lower lip, possessively and thrusting two digits as deep as they could go into my slick ridden vagina. I moaned loud, not worrying about anyone hearing my sex-filled moans. He was knuckle deep, curling his fingers in and out making me shudder and gasp with each aggressive thrust.  

"Got to stretch you out a little, I'm big and your damn, tight." He explained. I moaned getting excited at the thought of him filling me. I whimpered, missing his touch when he removed his fingers and turned around grabbing something from the glove box of the Impala. I took this opportunity to remove my undergarments and cast them to the floor of the car. He turned around, taking in the scenery. I didn't conceal any part of me, opening my legs for him. he seemed a bit shocked by this at first with my straightforwardness, but his gaze quickly returned to a rut-filled haze. 

he tore a small foil package with his teeth, a condom. A flash of anger came across my features and took it from him throwing it, landing in the far reaches of the dashboard. I embraced his scalp with both hands and kissed his lips. he growled sexily at my actions.He'd gotten more ridged both with his actions and where it mattered. I helped him take off his boxers and he sat down next to me.  

"Ladies first." he insisted wanting me to act as the top, or at the very least equal. maybe this was to do with his length and girth. It made my mouth water. I straddled myself on top him, guiding my hand down to position him at my entrance. I lowered myself down on him, the slick helped but I could still feel just how different having another man inside me was. It wasn't necessarily better than Dean just different.  

He moaned from the pressure. His head scraped against my cervix, making me whimper. In all honesty it hurt a little bit, but with the pheromones flowing through my veins and my heated state I didn't mind some pain mixed with pleasure. Unable to hold back any longer, he used his free hand to grab at my shoulder pinning me to him and forcefully bucked deeper into me. Deeper than I even thought possible, his head dipping into my cervix, making me see entire galaxies. 

"Ahh! Sam." He kept at a relentless pace, each thrust harder than the last, more passionate. I felt his knot swell at my base, ready to burst. I dragged my tongue across his scars displayed on his chest, the ones Dean gave him. My walls clench down like a vice. He lifted his torso off the backseat away from a resting position. his hand cradling the base of my neck and dragging it in. His knot locked inside me and load after sweet boiling load released into my deepest parts. Not wasting another second he sunk his fangs into the flesh of the right side of my neck, claiming me. I'd screamed, climaxing from the combination of his knot, seed, and pine intoxicating me all at once. We sat there panting out our arousals, still connected for about half an hour. He lapped the blood away from his claim but made sure not to touch the puncture marks, wanting them to scar over. We waited for his knot to calm down before talking.  

"I've waited a long time for this." He said rubbing my cheek with his thumb, his eyes mulling over my beauty. "Doesn't feel real, but I'm happy it is." I smiled back at him, moaning and wincing from his exit.  

"Me too. I need a shower." I definitely smell like him now. Both of us wanted to start round two but were unable to with the possibility of Roslyn waking up in the middle of the night. We left the Impala in her steamed state and headed off to the shower stalls. Oh man, I'm going to feel this in the morning. Together we bathed, needing each other as support. Me nursing his gimp shoulder and him, making sure the shower water didn't sting my fresh claim. it was a miracle at all that we by the end of the cleaning we didn't still smell like each other. Now dressed, we headed off to the bedroom section of the Bunker. We stopped at his room. He landed a kiss on my forehead.  

"Don't hurt yourself anymore." he said, demandingly, already exerting his Alpha nature onto his new mate. I gave him a weak smile, "Okay. Good night." That was the one thing I don't think I can promise. I'm going to sleep very solidly tonight. He rubbed my cheek with is thumb again.  

" 'Night. 'Mega." Hearing him utter my dynamic, really felt like setting our actions in stone. It felt good and right. should I feel guilty for this? Being my recently deceased mate's , whom I've bore a pup with, brother? my omega instinct was telling me, no I shouldn't be ashamed. Dean died. It wasn't really cheating after all, was it? it was too late to get cold feet now. I hopped into my bed in my room, cocooning, I was starting to get too much in my own head. I couldn't help but place a hand on the crook of my left neck, where Dean's claim used to be. I wanted to cut, but didn't so I had my fill of crying until I fell asleep. 

The next morning felt so odd to me, because it was like there was a light-switch that had been flipped on inside my brain. For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy. Dean and I had bonded through our emotions, I and Sam, however bonded intellectually. Not to say that Dean was dumb, he wasn't. Just the way Sam and mine brain operated was different than his. Dean thinks...thought with his heart. Sam puts that pre-law beautiful nerdy mind to work constantly. He needs to do that actually otherwise, he'd be bored out of his wits. Sam is governed by reason and thought.  

I was the first person up, getting some pancakes ready for Roslyn, those were her current favorite. In a few more weeks she'd have some other favorite fad to please her palette. Pups, Gods help me.  I was sipping on some coffee and got Ros up, heaving her groggy little booty out of bed and putting her in her high-chair. It was hard to get her to eat, even though she liked the stuff. She only ate about half of it, but I settled for that. In another three hours she'd only be tugging at my leg wanting more food. Her little face scrunched up in a frustrated manner. Sam, finally out of his slumber came in, fixing himself a cup of coffee from the batch I made. 

"What's up buttercup?" I asked Ros, she has been talking for a little while. Mostly baby nonsense talk that only people who were close to her could comprehend. but other than that she can string very minor sentences together to get her point across. I tucked her fine hair out of her face and behind her ear. It hurt to see Dean's eyes reflected in those tiny eye sockets and his freckles on her face.  

"Bored. Wanna play hide seek. Miss Daddy." I smiled as hard as I could, because that sentence coupled with the look on her face made me hurt so damned bad. Sam was silent, turned around tending to his coffee. "Daddy will be home soon, pumpkin. I promise."  her eyes tensed on me. 

"Wiar." Liar. I almost broke right then and there. but I used that hurt to heave myself out of the kitchen chair and pick her up.  

"Somebody needs a nap, huh grumpy-face?" I told her. she didn't say anything back. I put her back to bed and rubbed her back and hummed Landslide to soothe her to sleep. that worked every time. I closed her door without a sound and Sam was in the hallway staring at me, looking guilty. I walked away from her door and collapsed down into Sam's chest, a bawling mess. 

"Sam, how are we gonna fix this?" I asked him, not knowing where else to turn. He sighed but didn't answer me. He kissed his claim, the flesh still tender. Sam gave me some room, knowing I needed time to think and stir. I let my emotions fester inside me before settling down and coming to streamline. The morning faded into the night-time and I had noticed Sam's laptop open and a tab closed down. Sitting next to his laptop a stack of papers, notes upon notes of demonology.  

I skimmed through them, not thinking much of it until I saw he'd written a sentence. how to become a demon with an anti-possession tattoo? Why was he so invested in this? I thought he was keeping hunting to a minimum with his shoulder. at least that's what he told me. I tried opening the window but of course it was password protected. with a tiny security question to answer.  

Circles infinity expecting differently. I mulled it over for a little while before cracking it. Insanity! Circles being a cycle, for infinity so repeating the same actions over and over expecting a different outcome. It's the famous saying from Einstein, and the definition of insanity. You'd think Sam would have thought of something more difficult? 

The file was titled, 'Gas-n-sip footage DD'. That's weird. maybe he's stumped on a case? since I cracked his riddle, I can help him with this. I clicked on the file and view the video. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, just some guy looking over the magazines on one isle. almost all Gas-n-sips are the same, so seeing this brought back memories of before the Mill. Crazy to think how much my life has changed since then.  

another man came on the screen and caught my attention. He had bowed out legs and dressed a bit plainly, with a cap on. The taller man suddenly attacked the other one and threw him into the shelf, for no reason. He looked right at the camera and I froze in place. I'd know that face anywhere. it was Dean, in the flesh. No can't be, has to be a shifter or something, right? for a second his eyes flashed, pure black like they'd been covered in soot. and then returned to normal. I closed the laptop horrified, appalled, excited, elated, terrified for Dean, and then livid. I took Sam's laptop and ran to his room where he was sleeping.  

I threw it purposely on his shoulder making him wake from the pain. I mounted him and pounded on his chest. "How long? How long did you know?! You told me he was DEAD! He's alive! Breathing. Walking. and a black eyed fool!" by the end I put my forehead to his, headbutting. I shouldn't have done it because it hurt like hell.  

I dismounted him, falling to the floor with a thud. He got up from bed, sitting with me on the floor.  

"I haven't known for long, only a few days. I was going to tell you. I just didn't know how. I'm afraid of losing you. I thought, if you knew, you'd go running back to him and leave me. Everyone leaves. Go! Go see what he's become!" he said his mood changing mid-speech. 

I grabbed his face in both my palms, surprising him with my actions. I kissed his forehead, the way he did to me. "I can't leave you. I won't. Mates for life. That goes for dean too. I'll be back. I need to go rescue my Galahad Sam. Can you do me a favor, and don't follow me? Watch over Roslyn, please. If something goes wrong, I have you on speed dial." I had a mission now, a purpose.  

Sam closed his eyes savoring my touch and thinking through my promise.  

"Come back in one piece." he demanded from me. "Always." I answered my new lover, before giving him a kiss tasting his pine. I gathered my things quickly, packing a demon knife and all the love and courage I could muster within me. I took one of the random working vehicles from the garage and drove to the Black Spurs bar pulling in to the a parking spot and turning off the engine. I exhaled, Zeus give me strength, resting my forehead against the steering wheel. Here goes nothing. I exited the vehicle and locked it, keeping aware of my surroundings. I'm walking into a demon bar, where there are guaranteed to be Alphas of some kind.  

Demons are not below rape, if anything they are encouraged by it. I'm still in my heat cycle so the fact that I'm still standing in this musky cesspool is a miracle. Maybe Sam's claim helped me out with that? I swung the door open, my only goal being to find Dean. The music stopped every pair of eyes on me and my Omega body. the music returned and some of the Alphas nearby were calling for me. 

"Come over here, 'mega, wanna ride this pony, cowgirl?" the first alpha whistled. 

"Got a fat knot, waiting for ya, Darling!" One fisted his clothed dick in my direction. I gave him the bird, not exactly intimidating considering my tiny fingers. 

"We can fuck that cunt, two for one discount, Baby-gal. Awhoooooo." Another mock-howled banging on the chest of his buddy. 

I didn't acknowledge them at all. instead payed attention to Dean, seeing his back turned to me. he had a red shirt on and jeans, boots. His hair grown out a little and combed over semi-neatly. I could smell the liquor that emanated from him as I closed the space between us.  he was sucking face with a blonde. I crossed my arms and dragged my tongue across my canine. 

"Didn't know they made Barbie the black-eyed-bitch edition. Must be new." that got her attention. She broke the kiss, get your filthy lips off my man. Dean laughed, entertained by my insult. I let my eyes pierce into his, wanting  to peer into his soul, if there was one left. 

"Why don't you get your own knot, you reek of sex, Omega slut." I wasn't going to show weakness, especially not here. plus the fact that I was already vexed. I took the demon blade out of my black suit jacket, pinned her hand to the table and impaled it to the wood, making her scream. for good measure I made sure she would need plastic surgery to fix that up-turned nose of hers. Feeling it break underneath my knuckles.  

Dean was smiling from ear to ear, revealing his perfect rows of teeth. He whistled after taking another shot of liquor.  

"You, me- need to fuck. Right now. You make me all tingly when you take control like that, M." just hearing his voice again, made me so happy but I knew the fact that him being here for all this time and not in the Bunker meant something was astray. He rose from his seat. I couldn't tell if the whiskey scent was coming from his body or the exuberant amount of alcohol he'd been consuming. His hand took mine and led me out of the bar, I needed his touch so much. What have they done to you, Love?  

He took me across the street to a dingy looking motel. He took me into his arms, bridal style. Shifting his weight to one foot, he kicked the door in. He set me down on the bed and topped me. Taking the collar of my jacket into his hands dragging me up to meet his lips I could taste the poison on his lips, still lingering. I couldn't help but moan into him. I had missed him for so long and that made a deadly combo with my heat being active at the moment. He was rougher than usual, like he'd lost his inhibitions.  

"That's what I like to hear." His hands stroked down the fabric of my jacket, reaching the juncture of the button that connected the two sides, and jerked ripping the button off. I wasn't going to let my heat distract me from why I came here. he took my heels off along with his reddish-rusty colored jacket and black shirt. he unzipped my jeans with his teeth, growling at the scent of my slick beneath them. 

"Dean, we need to talk." I said. He undid the metal button of my jeans and licked at my clothed slit, making me moan again. He descended and hopped off the bed taking the bottom of my jeans and tugging them off my legs. He cast off his boots and yanked his pants down enough to where his length fell out, slapping firm against the base of his stomach.  

"Sure, let the skin do the talkin', Baby." He said in a lustful tone, returning to the bed. The abused springs creaking under our combined weight. I was already slick as all Hell. So he wouldn't need to prep me or anything. Before that plane could come in for a landing, I needed to get my point across before I wasn't able to talk. he started to remove my silky pink underwear. I need to say it now. 

"Dean! You died. and came back, why not come home? Do you miss me at all? Or Ros?" He had begun working on eating me out, taking in my slick with an aggressive appetite. I felt waves of heat wash over me. Fucking Cerberus in a handbasket! I couldn't lose track of my objective. I stared at him through the valley of my breasts, needing his answer, before I couldn't make conscious thought. 

He was staring back at me, his tongue scraping at my walls. His eyes were filled with rut and then turned as black as coal in a millisecond. My chest heaved and my heart was drumming in my body, pumping my heat through me. Out of my core, down through my thighs and into my toes, making them curl. I was close to cumming, feeling my heat searing into my cheeks. He still had enough Dean in him to tease me, like old times and didn't give me a chance to release. he licked my slick off his lips and stalked further up to me.  

He looked at me like prey. His eyes still blackened. He swallowed, and I could feel his hot breath on my neck.  

" 'Course I do. What I can't take a vacation? Oh, am I scaring you sweetheart? Want the green ones back? Personally I prefer these. Think they look better on me." He answered. I was about to open my mouth when. His bullshit reply made me angry I took his throat in my grip, my claws scraping with his skin.   

"I'm not afraid, I'm sad. This isn't you. Death is no holiday, it's finite! I felt your claim sever!!" I let my feeling spill out. He cackled against my grip. His eyes returning to the shade of green that I adored and knew so well.  

"Welcome to the Dark-side, death is only a new beginning, Maia." His brows furrowed for a second. Laughing again but it sounded more like a scoff. He grabbed at my neck with one hand to pull me up to him so he could take my jacket off. He threw it, landing on a lampshade, darkening the room a bit. He set my neck down, and put his lips next to my right ear. His hand stroked at Sam's claim.  

"Somebody's getting on the naughty list this year. You think I couldn't smell him on you? Taste him inside you? It's pretty sad really. He gave you a pity fucking. And This ain't no pity fuck." he  said making his eyes return to black. He plunged himself into me, making gasp after gasp escape me. His fangs extended and tore into the left side of my neck. His Whiskey coursed throughout my entire body, spreading from cell to microscopic cell. The claiming hurt but it felt exhilarating at the same time. My veins were filled with Pine and Whiskey melting into my own strawberry scent. A potent triquetra. Throughout the sex, I felt something burn into my wrist. I stared at it and watched dark lines, as if someone was giving me a tattoo, form a symbol I had never seen before. I noticed the same thing sting itself into dean's wrist. on the same spot. 

Dean knotted himself into me more times than I could count. He fucked me senseless, ultimately and literally reclaiming what was rightfully his. At some point I had passed out. I woke up to find Dean snoring next to me. My eyes welled up but I couldn't let myself cry. I got up from the motel bed and collected my things and left. I forgot that I drove here, unable to focus on anything but what had just happened.  

I limped down the highway, the night and moon still high in her resting place among the stars.  Dean screwed me so hard it made walking a challenge. I don't remember how long I walked down the desolate road, casting my feet between the two yellow lines. I felt more numb than I had ever been. My mission had failed and I don't know how to fix Dean. I'm back at square one. I flopped down on to the cold blacktop staring into the dark abyss, a halo of white light ringed around the full moon. I closed my eyes, waiting for a car to come and crush me under its tires. I felt so used. I hate what heat makes me, lets me accept. my phone rang multiple times but I ignored it.  

I watched the moon creep across Nyx's cloak. Until bright lights made me wince and screeching tires skidded to a halt, stopping in the knick of time. A heavy door opened and closed. Boots running heavy across the asphalt. a warm hand caressing my cheek. Pine filling my nostrils and lungs.  

"Maia?! What happ-" he stopped mid-sentence, his glossy hazel eyes noticing two claims, one for each side. I lost it, tears searing stains into my cheeks. "Take me home, Sam, please." I begged. that was the one thing I was good for, begging. I begged for love. I begged for happiness. I begged for knots. Sam got me into the passenger seat ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he rose me from the ground. I kept staring at the moon on the way to the Bunker.  

Alphas, Omegas- such an overrated shit-show. 

End chapter 11. Start Arc B of series. 

Quote: 

"And I've moved further than I thought I could  But I missed you more than I thought I would  And I'll use you as a warning sign  That if you talk enough sense then you'll lose your mind 

And I found love where it wasn't supposed to be  Right in front of me  Talk some sense to me" 

-'I found,'-Amber Run 

Quote: 

"The sweetest submission  Drinking it in  The wine, the women, the bedroom hymns" 

-'Bedroom Hymns,'-Florence + the Machine 

#Big Big Love Series #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #Alpha!Demon!Dean #dean winchester #demon dean #sam winchester #alpha!sam winchester #alpha!steve x omega!reader #supernatural #supernatural abo #bad habits #smut

[kittenofdoomage]

Obeying Temptation

Summary: She’s not a good Christian girl by any stretch, but he might still have some fun corrupting her.

Pairing: Alpha!Demon!Dean x Omega!female!reader

Word Count: 8481

Warnings: soooo much blasphemy, religious themes, smut (incl. fingering, full penetrative sex and oral sex), A/B/O (incl. scenting, knotting, marking, mentions of bodily fluids), angst, drama, demonic possession, mentions of breeding kink, dirty talk, derogatory names, hands on throats, biting, bruising, abandonment, slight dubcon and implied murder of religious clergymen, ambiguous ending

Ao3 Link

Author Note: Happy New Year everyone, enjoy some blasphemy before 2023 kicks in 😈

Church had always felt like a chore. In truth, it was more her mom’s thing than Y/N’s, but she obeyed the rules of her mother’s house, since she was stuck living there until she could find a job that paid better than minimum wage. Every Sunday, she put on one of the hideous Sears dresses her Aunt Margaret sent every birthday and followed her mother to church. Her mom didn’t make her sit at the front with the rest of the gossipy old ladies that liked to speculate on the love lives of the other attendees, at least.

It was hard not to zone out when Father Taggart droned on about the importance of community and keeping Jesus in your heart, and if she could have gotten away with it, she would have played on her phone until the service was done. She’d never understood the purpose of “God’s House”, preferring to believe His house was everywhere, seeing as he was supposed to be ubiquitous. 

Today’s sermon was more of the same. Y/N sat away from most of the other parishioners, listening as the greying vicar rambled through Matthew 22-something, her attention wandering around the stone archways of the old building. As her eyes drifted, she noticed someone in the darkness to the left near the confessionals, a good few meters away from the pews.

He stepped forward, white collar catching her gaze first. Another priest? she wondered, and his eyes met hers. A smile tugged at his lips but it was nothing like the smile she would expect to see on a vicar’s face. This smile was calculating, cunning… predatory. Despite the distance between them, she could tell he was an Alpha, unusual for a man of the cloth; she wished she could see him more clearly but he was almost entirely bathed in shadows.

“And now, I would like to invite a new voice to speak,” Father Taggart announced, and Y/N dragged her eyes from the shadowy priest to the front again, though she could feel him watching her still. “May I introduce Father Crowley, who will be standing in for Father Grayson now he has retired.”

She remembered Father Grayson, though she’d only met him a few times when she’d picked her mom up from her Wednesday night prayer group. He was at least a hundred years old, she was sure of it, bent double and hair as white as snow. Maybe he should have retired a few years earlier.

The man who stepped up with a polite nod at Father Taggart was in his late forties, or maybe early fifties - she was never very good at judging age. He had dark hair and a slightly unkempt beard, but she supposed he was attractive. For a priest.

“Thank you, Father Taggart,” the newcomer crooned, his British accent making a few of the older ladies whisper among themselves. “It is a pleasure to be speaking to you all today. As he explained, myself and Father Winchester will be standing in for Father Grayson until a suitable permanent replacement can be found.” He smiled, looking out upon his audience. “I’m sure we will feel right at home in your wonderful parish.”

Y/N glanced back to the shadows, wondering if the mysterious Alpha was Father Winchester, but he was gone. She shuddered, feeling a chill in the air as Father Taggart gave Father Crowley a further welcome, then called everyone to stand for the last hymn.

Hymns had always been the part of church she enjoyed. Singing in general was a hobby, one to be practised away from anyone who would hear her, so hymns offered her a way to sing without being singled out in a crowd. The church organ player situated herself, then began to play as Father Taggart instructed the mass to turn to Holy God, We Praise Thy Name.

The mysterious priest didn’t appear again.

It always took forever to get her mom in the car after services, usually because she was still chatting with her friends. Y/N hung around the grassy front, toying with her keys as she waited, listening to her mom pass comment on the “hot new priest”.

“You know he’s still twenty years younger than you, right?” she called out, making her mom glare in her direction.

Agnes, her mom’s best friend, prodded her. “Did you see that other one?”

“No?” Her mom frowned, glancing over at her daughter. “There was another one?”

“Mmhmm,” Agnes nodded. “Younger. Very handsome. Maybe Y/N…”

“Oh, god, Agnes, please,” Y/N interjected, holding a hand up to stop the older woman. “I’m not interested in any guys, priests or not. Besides, I thought they’re supposed to be celibate?”

Agnes and her mom chuckled. “That’s a common misconception,” her mom advised, with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna know,” she mumbled, scrunching up her face in disgust.

“Oh come now, dear,” Agnes chided softly, “you can’t expect to live at home forever. We all have a body clock, you know, Omegas most of all.”

It was difficult not to roll her eyes at the outdated opinion, so she decided not to engage in yet another discussion about how Omegas weren’t just breeding sows. Jingling the keys, she turned her attention to her mother, giving her a tight smile. “Can we get going, Mom? I wanna enjoy the rest of my weekend.”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “Okay, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Agnes.”

“Take care, Judith. Goodbye, Y/N!”

“Bye,” Y/N muttered, already marching towards the car. Judith followed at a leisurely pace, ignoring the impatience of her daughter as she climbed into the passenger seat. Turning the key in the engine, Y/N glanced back to check the rear of the vehicle, making sure she didn’t hit the black classic parked behind her.

“Agnes is only worried, you know,” her mom started.

“Mom -”

“I know, I know, none of my business. But I would like to see a grandchild…”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Mom.”

Judith went quiet, clamping her mouth shut with a grin. Y/N pulled the car out of the spot and sped off, hoping that her stern tone was enough to put the subject to bed. They were silent the whole way home, and when they got inside, Y/N retreated to her room to lose herself in something distracting.

By Monday morning, she’d forgotten most of the encounter, and began her week at work with a smile. Her job kept her busy, and though she hated the majority of her duties, she liked that it occupied her mind and she never had to take it home with her.

Sunday rolled around with a storm, the second of the week. The weather had been all kinds of crazy since summer had hit, and when she arrived at church with her mother, they had to run in to avoid getting drenched. Judith toddled off to her usual spot, and Y/N, once again, found sanctuary at the back. It was emptier than usual, likely due to the rain, and she could hear it on the church roof above the crowd.

Father Crowley stood at the front, waiting for everyone to get settled, and when Y/N looked around, she couldn’t see Father Taggart. Her mom was sitting with Agnes, both of them whispering to each other, and they fell silent when Father Crowley called for quiet.

“I have some grave news to give you all today,” he began, and several parishioners sat up straighter. “Father Taggart has been taken ill, so he will not be conducting service today. I would like to ask you all to hold him in your prayers, and hope for a full recovery.”

Y/N tensed, a new scent tickling her nose. The pew she was sitting on was empty save for her, and she looked to either side, searching for the source of the smell. It was thick and rich, invading her senses, inexplicably Alpha.

Movement from the darkness at the left of the church caught her eye. She focused, seeing him standing in the shadows by the door that led out to the graveyard, and for a second, she could have sworn his eyes were black. Her hands shook as she clutched the church-copy of the bible, unable to take her eyes off of him.

Father Crowley was speaking again, delivering a sermon every inch as boring as Father Taggart’s, and Y/N wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention. She stared at the mysterious priest in the shadows, feeling her heart rate speed up, and a light sweat broke out on her forehead. Her lips parted as she panted lightly, suddenly aware of what was happening.

She needed air.

Getting to her feet, she tried not to stumble, being as quiet as possible as she headed for the main entrance. No one seemed to pay her much attention, most of them listening to Father Crowley, so she escaped unnoticed, closing the door behind her.

It was still raining. The only thing that protected her was the awning over the doorway. She didn’t care, gulping down fresh air as she tried to control herself. “It’s too early,” she muttered, shaking her head.

The door opened behind her. “Is everything okay, sweetheart?” It was her mom, and Y/N turned, nodding.

“It’s fine, Mom, I’ll just go wait in the car.”

Judith didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?” she whispered. “It’s Sunday, it might be a while.”

“Can I help you, ladies?”

The low rough voice made them both turn, and Y/N almost yelped at the sight of the mysterious priest. In the dull light of the storm, she could see every detail of his handsome features, and her mouth went dry as she drank in all six feet of him. “My daughter isn’t feeling well,” Judith explained before she could stop her.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N insisted. “I can wait in the car.”

“If you’re feeling unwell, you can sit in the rectory until service is finished,” the priest offered.

Judith smiled, pressing a hand to her chest. “Oh, Father Winchester, that would put my mind at ease.” She glanced at her daughter. “I don’t think you’ve met yet. Y/N, this is -”

“Father Winchester,” Y/N whispered, staring at him. “I’d really be okay in my car.”

Her mom frowned then, reaching out to take her hand. “Please, Y/N, I’d be happier if you weren’t alone out here.”

She wanted to scream. Father Winchester was an Alpha, though her Beta mother wouldn’t scent it. He smiled at her, and she felt a thread of fear knot in her stomach. “It’s only next door,” he said smoothly, gesturing to the covered walkway that ran around the side of the old building. “Your mother can come and find you when she’s done.”

Her mother’s pleading gaze made her heart drop. She nodded reluctantly, and Judith beamed, clasping her hands over Y/N’s, tilting her head as she gazed at the priest gratefully.

“Thank you so much, Father,” she gushed, patting her daughter’s hand before scurrying back inside.

Father Winchester held out an arm, gesturing to the footpath. “It’s this way.” He stepped off, and Y/N followed. His scent filled her mouth and nose, making her stomach churn, and she couldn’t help staring at his muscular frame from behind him.

The rectory was a neat little house behind the church and the graveyard, far enough away from the other buildings that it was eerily silent. It was still raining, less enthusiastically than it had been before, but enough for her to feel her clothes getting wet as she followed the priest across the back of the graveyard. He paused after he’d opened the front door, holding it for her to slip past, and she felt a chill as she did. The door closed behind him, turning to face her as she hovered in the hallway.

“Would you like some tea?” he asked politely. It felt forced, and his intense stare made her insides quiver.

“Uh, sure.”

He smiled - the same predatory look he’d given her before. “The kitchen is through here.” Leading with his hand, he didn’t wait for her to follow, though she did, letting her gaze travel over the aged wallpaper and the few old pictures hanging on the walls. Most of them were religious or with the church itself as a subject, and for a moment, she wondered if Father Taggart was home, seeing as he was ill.

“How is Father Taggart?” she asked curiously. “Father Crowley said he was taken ill.”

Father Winchester barely spared her a glance as he filled the kettle with water, placing it on the stove top. “I’m sure he’ll be fine,” he muttered, his tone indicating a lack of regard for the man in question.

“Where is he?” she pushed, hoping that she wasn’t alone in the house with such an odd man.

He turned his head, grinning at her. “He left this morning. Staying with relatives in Florida. Warmer air.”

It sounded like he was mocking her, but she couldn’t see what the point would be, so she shrugged and let it go, looking around the kitchen for somewhere to sit. There was definitely space for a dining table and chairs in there but the space they could have occupied was empty.

“How are you feeling now?” the Father asked.

His question caught her off-guard. “Uh, okay, I guess,” she stammered, hugging herself for some small measure of comfort. “Probably allergies.” She was lying through her teeth; the gentle ache beginning in her belly told her exactly what was happening.

He hummed like he didn’t quite believe her. “Are you sure?” he pressed, turning to face her. “Lying is a sin, Y/N.”

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head hurriedly, fighting the urge to back up and show his intimidation of her. She dropped her hands to her sides, trying to appear casual. “Well, I mean, storms kick up all sorts of allergens,” she managed, shrugging.

Father Winchester sighed, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, I gave you the chance there,” he scolded softly. “But I can see you’re going to be difficult about it.”

A lump formed in her throat. “About what?” she rasped, feigning innocence.

“I can smell you.”

The statement made her freeze, and she met his eyes like a frightened rabbit. He was facing her now, stalking her almost, and even though he was scaring the crap out of her, a tiny part of her was sending a thrill down her spine. His eyes shone as he stepped closer, and her knees trembled.

“Been able to smell you since you got out of your car,” he continued, coming closer still. “Sweet. Ripe. Just begging to be plucked.”

“Father Winchester, I -”

He scoffed, silencing her. “It’s Dean.”

She frowned at the odd correction, never knowing a priest to be so informal. But then, she’d never known one to be this inappropriate toward her. “This is wrong,” she whispered, finally backing away from him, only to find cupboards at her back two steps later. He was so close now, close enough to grab her, close enough that he was blocking any escape.

A smirk curled his lips, making him even more devastatingly handsome. “Then why can I smell how wet you are, sweetheart?”

Y/N whimpered, pressing herself into the cupboard door. “You shouldn’t be acting like this,” she denied. “You’re a priest, a man of the cloth -”

He was suddenly up against her, and she sucked in a breath, words fading as his scent overwhelmed her. “I’m an Alpha,” he murmured, reaching up to cup her face with one huge hand. “You’re an Omega. I know you feel it, I know you want it.”

She shook her head, her only struggle against his hold. He chuckled, leaning in like he was going to kiss her and she knew she should have resisted but she didn’t. His face got closer and right as he was about to brush his lips over hers, he went left, pressing his cheek to hers instead. The hand at her jaw tugged at her jacket, pulling it down until her bare shoulder and throat were exposed.

“I wouldn’t force myself on you, Y/N,” he crooned, mouth right against the shell of her ear. “It’s so much more satisfying to watch you try to fight it.” He chuckled, running the tips of his fingers up over her bare arm. “And you’re going to beg for my knot before long.” His fingers slid over her shoulder and up to her throat, stroking over the spot where an Alpha would lay his claim.

A shudder ran up her spine, and she could feel wetness in her panties. No doubt he could smell it, how aroused she was just from a few moments in his presence. “I don’t -” Her mouth was so dry, she couldn’t speak. Working some saliva up, she managed a tiny whine, and Dean pulled back to look her in the eye.

“Try again,” he ordered softly.

“I don’t think th-this is appropriate,” she stammered, too aware of the hand still lingering on her throat.

“Why not?” he teased, grinning at her. “Your body wants it. Every second, your scent’s gettin’ stronger, princess.”

This is wrong, this is wrong, she chanted in her mind but already she was imagining it, conjuring fantasies based on the hard lines of his body that held her against the cupboard. “Please,” she keened desperately.

“Please, what?”

The kettle began to shrill loudly, and the tension in the room snapped. Dean stepped away, leaving her to crumple in on herself, and she panted against the cupboard, watching him as he continued to make the tea.

She wondered for a second if she’d imagined it but her jacket was still hanging halfway down her shoulder, and she could still feel his touch on her skin. Her panties were soaked through, and when she straightened, she felt the ache in her belly turning raw.

The front door opened, and she heard her mother’s voice. Relief swept through her, but Dean didn’t seem bothered in the slightest by the arrival of company.

“Oh, of course, Father, we understand,” Judith was practically swooning over him, “after all, safety comes first.”

“Absolutely, my child,” Father Crowley replied and the front door shut loudly. “Now let’s see where your daughter has gotten to.” His voice got louder as they approached the kitchen, and when he entered, he smiled at you. “Here she is.” He glanced at the other priest. “Safe and sound.”

Judith didn’t notice the odd tone he spoke with, but Y/N did. She stood still as her mother came closer and began to fuss, pressing one hand to her daughter’s forehead. “Oh dear,” she mumbled, flustering a little as she realized what was ailing the younger woman. “I suppose we should get you home.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Father Crowley interjected, glaring at Father Winchester, who smirked back.

“Thank you for looking after her, Father,” Judith cooed, smiling at both men.

“Take good care of her, won’t you?” Dean requested, all charm as he stared right at Y/N. She swallowed down a whimper, ducking her head so her mother didn’t see her reaction to him. “She’s a very special girl.”

Her mother clutched her chest, giving him an adoring look. “I will, Father Winchester,” she promised, taking Y/N’s hand but her daughter was already moving, desperate to get away from the scent of him. “Aren’t you going to say goodbye?” Judith admonished, making her freeze in her tracks.

She turned back, stomach churning, palms getting sweaty. “Thank you, Father,” she mumbled, curtseying like she was a child at Sunday School.

“I’ll keep you in my prayers,” he replied, a filthy smirk on his lips.

Judith didn’t linger this time, following as her daughter dashed for the door and out into the fresh air. The door closed behind them, and Crowley turned to Dean, arching one eyebrow in his direction.

“Feeling a little more enthusiastic about this?” he taunted. “Though you’re behind. I’ve already got three in the bag, what’s so special about this one?”

Dean’s smirk grew. “Didn’t you smell her?”

Crowley hummed. “Not something I’d be attuned to,” he shrugged. “This meatsuit’s a Beta.”

“You’re missing out,” Dean chuckled. “All she needs is a little push and she’ll be begging.”

“Seems like a waste of time.”

The younger man growled. “I thought we were here to have fun.”

“We are,” Crowley confirmed hesitantly. “I just thought it was a little more damning of little old ladies and less chasing tail.”

Dean snorted, rolling his eyes. “Whatever floats your boat. We should get rid of Taggart. He’s gonna start stinking up the joint.”

She’d been mistaken in thinking getting away from Father Winchester would slow her predicament. If anything, by the time she arrived home, the heat was getting stronger. Her mother parked the car and ushered her out, ordering her to her room to rest while promising noodle soup.

Usually, she’d sleep through most of a heat, ensconced in her personal space, and it would be over within three or four days. Even at her age and unmated, she managed them easily, but this one was early, way off her regular cycle. It felt stronger too, crippling her in hours, and by the time her mom brought her soup, she was at the point of begging for unconsciousness. Judith was concerned - Y/N dismissed it, assuring her mother she only needed rest and sending her away.

Every time she closed her eyes, Dean’s face, his scent, tormented her.

Monday didn’t bring any improvement. She strayed from her nest only to use the bathroom, snacking on comfort foods and watching shows when she wasn’t sleeping. Her mom checked in before she went out, and while she was gone, Y/N used the private time to take the edge off, cursing herself when she imagined Dean being the one to satisfy her.

She fell short of satisfying herself, only succeeding making the longing worse.

On Tuesday, her mom was home, and expressed a desire to call the doctor, but Y/N waved her off again. Her fever was beginning to break, she just had to ride it out.

In the afternoon, someone knocked at the door, the noise disturbing her sleep. She laid in her bed, listening as her mother greeted whoever it was, and for a moment, the low voice that answered didn’t register. When she realized who it was, she bolted upright, staring at the door in horror as she heard them coming up the stairs.

Her mother knocked at her door seconds later, and Y/N snatched the covers, pulling them up to her chin. The door opened without her consent - nothing unusual for Judith - and she stepped in alone, even though Y/N could smell Dean just outside in the hall.

“Y/N,” she murmured, “Father Winchester has come to check in on you.”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Y/N grunted back. “I’d rather not -”

“Nonsense,” she insisted. “Maybe prayer will help take your mind off of it.”

The utter disregard the older woman suddenly had was alarming, but Y/N didn’t have a chance to question it as Father Winchester entered, smirking at her. Judith smiled, glancing over at her daughter as she wilted in the bed.

“I’ve got to run into town. Will you two be okay?” Judith asked, ignoring the horror on Y/N’s face.

“I’m sure I can assist Y/N with whatever she needs,” Dean drawled, still grinning, eyes locked on her. It didn’t appear that Judith caught his double meaning at all, as she quickly retreated, leaving her Omega daughter to the Alpha’s mercy. He waited until he heard her reach the bottom of the stairs, then he pushed the door almost closed, licking his lips. “Mmm,” he exhaled, “I can taste you in the air, pretty thing.”

“I could shout,” she threatened quietly. “Mom will -”

“Go ahead,” he dared. “But I already know, you won’t. Because you’ve been thinking about me for three days.”

Her cheeks flushed with fresh heat but she held his gaze in defiance. He tucked his tongue behind his teeth, his expression mocking her, and she scowled, hating the fact that he was having an effect on her.

Downstairs, the front door shut, leaving them alone.

Dean moved closer, lowering himself onto the bed by her thighs. He didn’t touch her, but his proximity was enough to make her tense, the desire in her belly growing stronger with every whiff of his scent. “Don’t worry,” he soothed, lifting his chin. “I won’t touch you unless you ask nicely.”

She ground her teeth together. That same tiny part of her that had sprung up back at the rectory, the Judas in her soul that made her quiver at just his voice; it was screaming now, pleading with her to give in. Keeping her mouth shut, she focused on remaining still, unreactive to his presence.

“Ooo, hard to get, huh?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “Your scent betrays what you’re craving, baby. I bet you’ve cum half a dozen times on those useless plastic knots.” He looked around the room, obviously looking for evidence. “Where do you hide them?”

Y/N kept her eyes on him, unwilling to give away her secret.

“Gotta be somewhere mommy won’t find,” he continued, getting to his feet again. “She’s so nice. I doubt she knows what a little cockslut her daughter truly is.”

Her stomach clenched, and she looked down at her knees underneath the quilt. Dean laughed again, wandering over to her dresser. He smoothed one long hand along the top of it, glancing back at her in amusement.

“No, not in here, too obvious,” he mused aloud, scanning the room. Spying her closet, he strode over to it, opening the doors. He inspected it without touching anything, looking back at her again to check her reaction. She continued to keep her eyes down, chewing her lip to silence herself. “Not even gonna give me a hint?”

The rise he wanted wasn’t forthcoming though he didn’t seem bothered by her refusal to play his game. He stalked closer, trying to get her to look at him. She kept her head down, resisting, but when his knee hit the bed, she couldn’t stop her eyes darting towards where her shoebox lay.

Dropping to one knee, he reached under the bed, finding the only thing that was under there. He pulled the box out, glancing up to see her shameful expression, and he knew he had his prize.

“Let’s see,” he hummed, tugging the lid off.

Y/N only owned two toys, a vibrating wand and a dildo. Dean went for the dildo first, holding it up in scrutiny as she tried to will her bed to swallow her whole.

“Oh, baby. You’re in for a treat.” He clicked his tongue, smirking at her. “This is tiny.” It hit the floor with a thud that made her flinch. “But this one might be useful.” He dropped the shoebox, throwing the wand onto the bed; it landed between her knees. “Which one do you like best?”

She hesitated. He waited patiently, staring at her, and she shivered, letting the covers fall to her shoulders. “I-if I tell you… you won’t hurt me, right?”

A frown dampened his smile. “Do you think I’m going to hurt you, Omega?”

The use of the title made her shiver again. Her whole body ached, the arousal becoming unbearable and only enhanced by the scent of a potent Alpha so close. “I don’t know,” she confessed.

“I told you - I won’t touch you until you ask me to,” he repeated.

“Th-the wand,” she rushed out, and his smile returned. “The kn - the other one feels too fake.”

He chuckled, tilting his head a little. “Tell me the truth, princess,” he moved closer, sitting on the bed again, this time on the opposite side, “have you ever taken a real Alpha knot in that sweet little cunt of yours?”

She couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped. “Yes,” she whispered. “Once.”

“Lemme guess,” he mused, tapping his chin with one finger. “Highschool sweetheart. Thought he was the one, only for him to pop your cherry and leave you high and dry, right?” Her gaze dropped, and he took it for confirmation, laughing lightly. “Oh, darlin’, I’m gonna blow your mind when I get inside you.”

His words were so crude, so unbecoming of a priest. No one had ever spoken to her like that and she was ashamed to find his filthy expressions arousing. “Y-you said you wouldn’t force me.”

“I won’t,” he assured her. “I told you, you’ll beg me for it.”

Faking bravado, she lifted her chin, staring at him. “How do you know?”

“Because you’ve got my scent now,” he breathed, “Omega.” She shuddered, unable to suppress it, and fresh warmth invaded the space between her thighs. “See? Just my voice makes your pussy clench, doesn’t it? How many times have you imagined me fucking you to get off?” She whimpered, breaking eye contact. “Honesty, Y/N.”

“A lot,” she rasped truthfully, because she hadn’t counted.

He grinned triumphantly. “You wanna cum right now, don’t you?” She nodded, clenching her hands in the covers. “Then pick up your little toy and make yourself cum.”

The idea of refusing floated in her mind but she was so aroused she could feel it soaking the sheets underneath her ass. Dean watched her, green eyes hungry as they fixed on her, and before she could contemplate what she was doing, she pulled one hand out from the quilt and grabbed the wand.

He sat back a little, hands in his lap. Swallowing hard, Y/N hid the wand under the covers, turning it on so he could hear it, sliding it between her thighs. It didn’t even occur to her to fake it, and when the vibrating head touched her clit through her thin panties, she whined loudly.

“That’s it,” he purred, rubbing his crotch through his black slacks. “Aren’t you warm under all that?”

Desire controlled her, overriding her common sense. She pushed the covers down, shifting so she was a little flatter before pressing the wand to her sex again. Dean was stroking himself through his pants now, watching her as she writhed against the stimulation.

“I think you’d cum quicker if you took your panties off,” he suggested.

She nodded, too lust-drunk to fight it anymore, and in a few seconds, her panties were off and across the room. Dean watched as she spread her legs, bringing the wand’s head to right where she needed it. The intense need in her core only got her to the edge quicker, and she shuddered through an orgasm under the priest’s stare, feeling shameful as the pleasure subsided.

“Did that feel good?” he asked.

“Yes,” she whimpered, legs still twitching as she pulled the wand away and turned it off. Her cunt clenched around nothing, and she squirmed, desperate to feel more friction. Dean’s gaze dropped to her slick pussy, and he bit his lip, obviously restraining himself. The realization dawned on her that she didn’t want him to show control… she wanted him to touch her. “Please,” she forced out, chest heaving and breath coming in short pants. “Touch me.”

His lips curled into a sly smile and he chuckled. “Told you so,” he murmured, reaching out to slide his hand over her knee and up her bare thigh. “But you need to be specific. Where should I touch you, Y/N?”

“M-my,” she hesitated, feeling the warmth of his hand so close to where she wanted it, “my pussy.”

He grinned. “You learn quick,” he muttered, finally cupping her sex with his hand. She groaned, unwittingly canting her hips into his palm. “Oh, you’re so wet and warm, little Omega.” A finger dipped inside her, making her mewl pitifully, but he only laughed, teasing her with a little more of it. “Tell me what you want now.”

“I want -” She stopped, licking her lips as her breathing got heavier. “I want you to make me cum.”

“Like this?” He thrust his finger into her up to the knuckle, and she cried out, clutching the sheets underneath her. “So tight too,” he groaned. “You’re going to burn me alive.”

She twisted, nodding desperately. “P-please, more.”

He fucked the single digit into her, letting her body adjust before he penetrated her with the second. Her voice became hoarse, and her cunt throbbed around him, slicking every stroke as he opened her up. His wrist twisted, allowing him to press his thumb to her clit, and her whole body trembled.

“Just opening up for me,” he praised, looking down at her hungrily as he kept his fingers moving at a steady pace. “I bet you’ll gush all over my hand, won’t you, dirty little whore Omega? Look at you, all ready to beg for what you really want.” She moaned and nodded, rocking her hips in time with his thrusts. “Wonder how hard you’ll cum with my knot stretching that perfect little cunt out? You wanna feel my seed in your belly?”

It was too much. With a hoarse shout, she came, clenching hard around his fingers as he held them deep, his thumb continuing to work at her clit until she was dripping down his wrist. She was crying with pleasure, unable to vocalize anything as she shuddered from head to toe, and when Dean pulled his hand away, her legs collapsed, leaving her in a messy heap, eyes closed and chest heaving.

She could hear him lick his fingers clean.

“What do you want now, Y/N?” he taunted, leaning over her. She whimpered, opening her eyes to look up at him.

“Want your knot, Alpha,” she keened, reaching for him.

He tisked, pulling away before she could touch him. “That’s not good enough,” he chided, shaking his head and smirking at her. “If you want it that bad, you’ll come and get it.”

“Wait,” she mumbled, pushing up onto weak arms as he walked around the bed. “Where are you going?”

“Not far,” he replied mockingly, pausing at the door. “Like I said, if you want it that bad…” He trailed off and shrugged, disappearing out of the door. Y/N scrambled to follow, reaching the doorway with only her t-shirt on, but as she stepped out into the hall, it was empty. Father Winchester was gone.

She stared, pouting at nothing. Had she imagined it in some sort of heat fever? No, she could smell him, feeling his lingering touch in her most intimate places - how could he leave her like that? He’d watched her get herself off, made her cum with the briefest of touches, and then he just… vanished?

With her climax, her heat was given a brief reprieve, and her judgment became a little less clouded. She knew what Father Winchester - Dean - was doing. It was immoral and wrong and why was she still craving him? She should have been disgusted with herself, she should have thrown him out, she should have -

But she hadn’t. She’d let him make her cum and she’d enjoyed every second of it.

Shame washed over her. She retreated back to her room, covering her face with her hands as she made a frustrated noise. All she could think about was him, all she wanted was him. It felt like he’d cursed her, when all he’d really done was talk dirty, and she’d broken like a twig.

Maybe she should let his superior know what he was doing. She was fairly certain priests weren’t supposed to seduce their parishioners, especially not with the ferocity Dean displayed. Except… except then he might be made to stop, and that tiny part of her from before was getting bigger and louder by the minute.

She dressed quickly, repeating the same cycle of thoughts in her head. They weren’t really doing anything wrong. He wasn’t the celibate kind of priest, and she was a single unmated Omega. Their only sin was sex before marriage, which she’d never exactly been big on, judging by the three guys she’d actually slept with in college.

By the time she was dressed, she almost had herself convinced. At the bottom of the stairs, she grabbed her coat and keys, pleased her mother hadn’t taken the car. When she opened the front door, she knew what she was going to do, and she was at peace with it.

The church was quiet when she pulled up, the windows sparkling in the afternoon sun. Y/N sat in her car, nibbling at her finger as she watched the door, concerned someone would see her. There didn’t seem to be any sign of life, so she climbed out, taking careful steps up to the door to try the handle. She wasn’t surprised when it opened, and she slipped inside, closing it behind her.

Inside was empty. At the far end by the altar, candles burned, and the smell of frankincense hung in the air. Moving forward, she listened out for anyone lurking, slowly heading for the front pews.

The door clicked loudly behind her. She turned, seeing Dean with his hand on the lock, and he turned his head, lips curled in another filthy smirk. His eyes were dark, almost black, she thought, but when she blinked they were normal. Dismissing it as a trick of the light, she turned to face him, unconsciously holding a breath.

“Well, well,” he chuckled, swiping a thumb across his full lower lip. “You didn’t waste any time.” He strolled towards her, bumping his hand off of each pew as he went. “It’s barely been an hour.”

She bit her lip, watching him draw closer. There was weakness in her knees, and her heart pounded in her chest so hard, she thought it might burst. Dean chuckled, slowing to a stop just within reach.

“Father Winchester,” she whispered, trying not to sink to her knees. He bared his teeth and she swallowed. “Dean.”

“Try again.”

A shuddering breath left her lips. “Alpha.”

He hummed, reaching out to grasp her chin in his fingers. “Yes?”

She knew what he wanted, what she had to say in order to get what she wanted, what her body was craving like an addict. Still, she struggled to get the words out, unused to expressing her sexual needs aloud. “I need... I need your knot,” she whimpered.

He tisked, releasing her. “Not good enough.”

Her legs gave out, and she dropped with a frustrated cry. “Please,” she wailed, “please, Alpha, I need it. Need you to knot me.” Dean groaned, palming his crotch, looking down at her hungrily. Y/N lifted her head, panting as she pleaded with him. “Need you to fuck me.”

His jaw hung half open as he tore at the buckle of his pants, pulling his half-hard cock free. Her eyes went wide at the sight of him, watching as his erection thickened and filled out, the bulge of his knot obvious at the base. “You’re learning,” he mumbled, stroking himself as he stepped closer. “Open up.”

She obeyed, kneeling a little straighter as he offered himself to her, tapping the heavy crown against her bottom lip.

“Wider.”

Her jaw ached already but she did as she was told, instinctively brushing her tongue across the weeping head. His taste was tangy on her tongue, and she swallowed it down, lifting one hand to touch him. He didn’t resist, watching with his chin tucked into his chest as she took the initiative and started to explore his shaft with her tongue.

“Keep going,” he murmured, stroking her face before cupping the side of her head. “That’s it. Good little cocksucker.”

She moaned around him, feeling her own body respond to what she was doing. Her pussy throbbed and her skin prickled with heat, and her movements became more enthusiastic, much to the Alpha’s delight.

“Take it deeper,” he instructed, and she complied, eager to please him. His cockhead nudged the back of her throat and she gagged, pulling away at the fear of throwing up. Dean stopped her going far, quickly tugging her back. “Keep trying,” he ordered. “You’ll get used to it.”

Cautiously, she opened her mouth again, feeling the weight of him on her tongue. He thrust forward a little, and she swallowed, concentrating hard to control her gag reflex. Dean moaned as she kept doing it, rocking his hips to keep up the pressure.

“Fuck, you got a sweet mouth,” he groaned. “But I bet your pussy feels even better.”

He pulled away without warning, and Y/N spluttered as she landed on her hands, gasping down air. Dean’s hand slipped around her upper arm, pulling her to her feet; she stumbled, grabbing onto him for stability. Without waiting, he tugged her toward the altar, roughly pushing her against it.

“A dress would have been better,” he commented, yanking her pants down to her ankles as she squeaked in alarm and grabbed the cloth-covered altar table. Two fingers quickly pressed against her sex, sinking into her without warning. She cried out, clutching the table, bending over without thinking. “Still so wet,” he muttered, fucking the two thick digits into her.

“Please,” she wailed, unable to take any more teasing.

“Impatient now,” he chuckled, pulling his fingers free. “Don’t worry, baby,” she heard his pants drop as the heavy belt buckle hit the floor, “gonna make you feel all better.”

He pressed in behind her, letting her feel the weight of his cock as he slid between her thighs. Holding it against her pussy, he reached around for her throat, pulling her up straight.

“Look up,” he commanded quietly. She obeyed, lifting her eyes to the wooden crucifix above them, the carved image of Christ staring back. “I want you to look at Him while you’re taking my knot.”

He pushed into her, and she cried out, digging her fingernails into her table underneath her, struggling to keep her gaze where he wanted it. His thick shaft settled deep in her warmth, creating a pressure in her belly that threatened to overwhelm her.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his grip on her throat loosening for a second. “Just as good as I imagined.”

Y/N whimpered, fighting to keep her head up as Dean started to fuck her with slow, purposeful strokes. Her hips dug into the altar with every thrust, and his hand kept a steady grip on her throat, forcing her to look into the eyes of the crucified messiah as he defiled her.

It felt too good to care.

Her first climax came quickly, and her cries bounced off of the stained glass windows, echoing around the old building. Dean didn’t slow or stop, grunting in time with the slap of his skin on hers. His other hand grabbed her breast through her shirt, squeezing without a care for how rough he was being but her only noises were of pleasure. She was getting off on the way he used her, the bruises he was bound to leave on her skin.

“You really are a sinner,” he groaned, feeling her pussy clench around him again. His hand dropped to her belly, the fingers at her throat forcing her up a little straighter. “Bet you’re ripe right now,” he murmured, close to her ear. “That empty little womb just begging to be filled.”

The thought of what he was suggesting shouldn’t have made her wetter, shouldn’t have had any effect on her at all, but she would be lying if it didn’t. Her whole body shuddered at the depravity of even thinking about carrying his spawn, and she let her eyes roll back and fall shut. Dean chuckled, slowing just a little to watch her slick cunt swallow him over and over.

“I’m gonna knot you,” he panted, palming her ass, releasing her throat as he kicked her feet apart a little wider. Her belly and breasts came flush with the altar, and he hummed when his cock stabbed a little deeper. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you’re so ready to be filled up.” Y/N whined, pushing up onto tiptoes to stop from slipping. “I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

His hips snapped into her with more force, punching a cry from her lips. He started to fuck her hard, hard enough that she knew she’d have physical marks from the wood colliding with her hip, if not from his fingers gripping her flesh tightly. She couldn’t hope to stop herself from screaming, cumming hard as she felt his knot beginning to swell.

“That’s it, Omega,” Dean growled, slapping her ass as she clenched around him. “Fucking cum on my knot.”

With one last thrust, his knot popped, thickening inside her as warm spurts of cum filled her belly. His teeth found her throat, and in the throes of pleasure, she didn’t resist, crying out as he broke the skin and left a permanent reminder of his touch. She slumped forward when he released her, gasping through the last of her orgasm, going limp as he finished. He groaned with a low chuckle, squeezing her ass again, enjoying the last few squeezes of her warm walls around his cock.

“Wanna hear a secret?” he murmured, pulling her up and holding her there, practically impaling her on his knot. His lips brushed the shell of her ear and she shuddered, almost wheezing in his grip. “I’m no priest.”

Was he expecting her to be surprised? No priest acted the way he did.

“Then what are you?” she asked, expecting him to say anything but what came out of his mouth.

He chuckled. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, little Omega.”

How she had made it out of the church and home without anyone seeing her was a stroke of luck, and she managed to avoid her mother for the rest of the day. Her heat subsided quickly after her encounter with Dean, but she still wasn’t entirely satisfied. After their encounter, he’d disappeared without answering her questions, and every time she’d returned to the church later on in the week, there was no one there. The mark on her throat ached, and though it hadn’t been deep, she still kept it covered to avoid questions from anyone who might see it.

Shame kept her from attending church on the Sunday, having decided by that point that Dean had used her. She feigned a migraine, letting her mother take her car, and then she ate junk food in her room while watching reruns of old sitcoms on television. When her mom returned a few hours later, it was with surprising news.

“Father Taggart passed away,” Judith said after Y/N came down to see what had happened. “No one is sure what happened, only that the bishop is saying they didn’t send any replacement for Father Grayson, and no one knows what happened to Father Crowley or Father Winchester.”

“That’s strange,” Y/N mumbled, recalling Dean’s words while he’d been buried inside her. The majority of her soul was in pain at the abandonment of an Alpha - again - and that this time, he’d left something of himself inside her.

“Oh, and did I mention?” her mother continued. “Mrs. Whiting was found dead two days ago. Another mystery. Her husband is still missing.”

Judith carried on, musing over all the gossip she’d heard today, and Y/N tuned it out, trying not to pay any attention to the emotions crushing her chest. She should have been more careful, should have been wary of the handsome Alpha - she definitely shouldn’t have offered herself up to him like a brazen hussy.

She had to keep her involvement with him quiet. The last thing she wanted was attention from the police. It was easier to keep her head down and carry on, deal with her own stupidity and not let herself be fooled again.

When a few days passed, she let it sink in. A night of crying to the most tear-jerking movies she could think of, and she felt a little better. She kept going, and days turned into weeks, and Dean was a brief thought that flitted through her mind occasionally. His mark faded to an easily-disguisable scar, and she continued on with how her life had been before, ignoring the longing for excitement that he had brought her. The only change was church, despite her mother’s protests.

She never expected to see him again but she wasn’t sure she could walk back into the place where she’d let him own every part of her.

It was almost a relief when her period came. His comments about her fertility had lingered in her mind, burrowing deep until she was in a panic. But her cycle continued as it had before, and she thought she could finally forget him entirely.

She didn’t notice the black car parked along the street, didn’t recognize it at all, though she’d seen it before. She didn’t even pay attention when she saw it outside her office, or at the grocery store. It was only when she walked past it for the sixth time outside the pharmacy, and the door opened, that she finally saw who it was.

Dean stared at her over the top of the Impala, and Y/N froze on the sidewalk, feeling like time had slowed down. He smiled awkwardly, unlike the predatory smirk from before, and she frowned, tilting her head at him.

“You’re back,” she blurted out.

“Kind of,” he replied haltingly.

It had been about six weeks. She was due her heat again. “What do you want?” she asked.

“To talk.” He sounded sincere at least. “To explain.” There was something in his voice, something that tugged her forward. “You’re my Omega, Y/N.”

She took a breath, knowing without even thinking about it that she’d listen. “What if I don’t want to talk?” she challenged. “What if I don’t want an Alpha?”

Dean smiled again, but once more she noticed the difference in him. “Is that true?”

“No,” she confessed quietly.

He gestured to the passenger door. “You wanna get in?”

It felt like opening that door would lead her somewhere, and not just into this man’s arms. Whatever he had to say, she felt like she needed to hear it, that this was not only the door to his car, but the door to her future. She looked up, smiling at the bright sunny sky, then dropped her gaze back to him.

“Yeah.”

Feedback is appreciated!! Thanks for reading 😘

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #demon!dean winchester #fanfic #fanfiction #spn #supernatural #blasphemy #a/b/o #alpha/beta/omega #alpha!Dean Winchester #omega!reader

[woman-of-balnain]

In Progress/Future/Potential Fics

This is more for my own reference than anything. Just to keep track of the fics I’m planning to write. I don't include posting dates anymore, as my schedule is more unreliable now, but this list is in the order I plan to write things.

Masterlist

Key:

😈 - Smutty Thoughts

🔥 - Strictly Foreplay or Not Really Full-Blown Smut

💦  - Smut

💥 - Arguing Between the Pairing

💔 - Angst

💕 - Fluff

❤️‍🩹 - Hurt/Comfort

🐺 - A/B/O Dynamics

⚔️ - Historical AU

In Progress:

1. Corruption (Request): part 2 & 3 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - NOT related to 'the Claim' - a sheltered omega reader with no real knowledge about presentations, heat/rut cycles etc.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

Future Fics:

1. Arthur Request 💦

Red Dead Redemption - Arthur fingering the Reader with his leather gloves on.

2. Arthur Request 💦

Red Dead Redemption - High Honor Arthur with a shy, virgin Reader

3. Coveted (Multi-Part Series) 🐺💔💦

The Walking Dead - You and Rick have an agreement to help each other through your respective heats and ruts. It’s never been anything more than that, despite how much you wished for the opposite. After arriving in Alexandria, Rick decides that it's time your arrangement comes to an end and you reluctantly try to move on from the feelings you've developed for him. Nevertheless, jealousy ends up getting the better of you.

Sequel to Corruption.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

4. Heat 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - Daryl has always had his own subtle way of helping you in the buildup to your heats. Turning a blind eye when one of his shirts goes missing, letting you scent him in private moments away from the others… but after the loss of the prison, your heat hits again while you’re on the road and Daryl has to take a more hands-on approach to help you this time.

Alpha Daryl Dixon/Omega Fem!Reader - *you essentially replace Beth in the period after the group loses the prison.

5. Nattstemning 💦

The Walking Dead - When the group arrives in Alexandria, it's revealed that there aren't enough beds for you all to get your own, so some of you have to share. You get paired with Rick and his hands tend to wander in his sleep. My first attempt at the ‘there’s only one bed’ trope.

Rick Grimes/Fem!Reader.

6. The Devil in Me (Multi-Part Series) 🐺💦💔

Supernatural - Dean gave up on finding his true mate a long time ago. Considering the life he leads, he always thought it was better that way. It must be another one of life’s sick jokes that when he finally found you, it was while he bore the mark of Cain and right before he dies and comes back as a demon.

Demon!Dean/Deanmon, Mark of Cain Dean, Alpha Dean, Omega Reader, Female Reader.

7. The Claim (Rewrite) 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - A rewrite of the original that I intend to also make longer, with better pacing.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

8. Undone in Sorrow (Rewrite) 🐺💔

The Walking Dead - A rewrite of the original that I intend to have better pacing and an improved plot.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

9. Endzeitfragmente Part 3 (Untitled; Multi-Part Series) 🐺💦💔

The Walking Dead - Sequel to the Claim and Undone in Sorrow, that I intend to be much more of an AU following the events of All Out War and to conclude Rick and the Reader's story. Still in very early stages of plotting it out, but I plan for it to be a big deviation from the show after s8's events.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem! Reader.

10. Untitled Moon Knight Fic (Multi-Part Series) ⚔️💕❤️‍🩹💦💔

Moon Knight - Historical AU where you are the daughter of the King, who decides to marry you off to the mysterious Marc Spector who is keeping more secrets than you ever could have imagined. Arranged marriage; no MCU powers; takes inspiration from Henry VIII's reign and court; includes all three moon boys.

Marc Spector/Fem!Reader, Steven Grant/Fem!Reader, Jake Lockley/Fem!Reader.

Potential Fics:

These are fic ideas I've had that aren't high on my list in terms of priority and that I haven't seriously committed to writing. If any stick out to you, feel free to let me know that you're interested as it may make me more inspired to write them.

1. Shelter for My Soul 💕💔

Red Dead Redemption - In his final days, Arthur finds the time to slip away from camp and visit his family. As he takes it all in for the last time, he remembers the times you’ve all spent together.

Arthur/Fem!Reader - *You and Arthur are married and have children (but you have your own home and don’t live with the gang).

2. A Fine Night of Concealed Debauchery 💦

Red Dead Redemption - While the gang throws a party, a slightly drunk Arthur is playing poker and pulls you onto his lap. It isn't long before his hands start wandering under the table, making him quickly lose focus on the game.

Arthur Morgan/Fem!Reader.

3. Dominance, Submission 🐺💦

The Walking Dead - You act recklessly (yet again), causing Rick to force you into submission and teach you a lesson. Light bdsm, set in the early prison era. A light sequel to ‘the Claim’ that can be read independently of it.

Alpha Rick Grimes/Omega Fem!Reader.

#Dean Winchester x Reader #alpha dean x omega reader #alpha!rick grimes x omega!reader #Daryl Dixon x reader #alpha!daryl Dixon x omega!reader #demon dean x reader #deanmon x reader #marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #arthur morgan x reader #rick grimes x reader

[pink-sparkly-witch]

All She Wants, Part Three (Finale)

Summary: Dean’s experience with the wrong hormone suppressants makes him feral. The only person who can get him out of it and save his life is Y/N, the omega he had been mating with for years until she left six months ago. Without a claim and with no prospects of Dean ever giving her one, Y/N finally had enough and broke the bond they’d forged in their years together and left him, but with Sam now begging her to go to Dean and save his life, will she go, or will she leave the green-eyed alpha to his biological fate?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: Alpha Gone Feral for @j3bingo

Warnings: tw: dub con claiming, omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, feral alpha, agitation, aggression, smut, rough sex, biting, oral sex (f rec), fingering, p in v sex, hair pulling, heavy angst, aftercare, fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Here we go… the super angsty finale of this alpha!Dean mini-series! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

You can catch up here!

My Masterlist     AO3     Ko-Fi

Y/N’S POV

The knocking on your motel room door startles you, and you grab your gun from the waistband of your jeans and cautiously step towards the door. Flicking the safety off, you place the barrel onto the wood and cautiously open it just enough to see who’s on the other side.

“Sam? Cas?” you gasp, throwing the door open wider.

“You should be more careful, Y/N. We could be demons or shapeshifters or any other kind of monster,” Cas speaks first, and you blink at him, amused, as always, by his directness.

“Nice to see you, too, Cas,” you smirk, opening the door wider to let them in.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sam says as he leans down to hug you. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too, Sam,” you smile as you close the door behind them. You know whatever this unplanned visit is, it’s about Dean.

“You seem healthy,” Cas states, tilting his head to the side and frowning as if searching for something. “And yet—”

“So!” Sam interrupts quickly. “How have you been?”

“Fine…” You narrow your eyes at the alpha’s strange behaviour. “This isn’t a social visit, is it?” You finally ask.

“No,” Cas confirms, and you don’t know if you’re glad he’ll get straight to the point or if you’d prefer Sam to dance around it all a little more.

“Dean.” It’s not a question. It’s a statement. You knew from the way your stomach dropped the second you saw them that this wasn’t a good news visit.

“I asked Cas to find you,” Sam said softly.

You and the younger Winchester have stayed in touch since you left the bunker, but you agreed you wouldn’t tell him where you were, and he wouldn’t ask. It was one thing for Dean to find out they were talking, but it’d be another entirely if he knew Sam knew where she was.

“What happened?” Your mind goes to the worst possible scenario, and you try to fight the rising nausea. 

“Dean has been taking store bought suppressants,” Sam says, and you feel your blood boil.

“What? Why? Why would he be so goddamn stupid? Did he know what they’d do to an alpha in his situation?” you fume at the men as you pace the threadbare carpet.

“No. He knew they weren’t suitable long-term, but the side effects he experienced weren’t typical,” Cas answered.

“I thought it was a mix of the drugs and rejection sickness and that it’d ease over time,” Sam says calmly and quietly. “But I think he suffered some kind of chemical reaction to them, and by the time I found out what he was taking, it was too late.”

“Too late? Sam, what are you saying?” You’re terrified of what he’s so anxious to tell you.

“He’s feral, Y/N,” Cas finally puts you out of your misery, and while it’s bad news, it’s not the worst thing they could’ve told you. “But I don’t understand why you are not.”

It’s not an accusation. The angel is just curious about alphas who mate with but don’t claim omegas. To his literal knowledge, an alpha finds an omega, they mate, there’s a claim, an unbreakable bond, and pups. Your situation with Dean had always intrigued the celestial being.

“Because I’ve been taking the suppressants I should. Prescribed by a doctor. Why didn’t he do the same thing?” Contrary to the angel’s question, yours is accusatory as you look between Sam and Cas.

“You know what he’s like, Y/N. He doesn’t talk about these things, and I didn’t know until a few days ago. He’s been overcome with guilt for how he treated you, and I think…” Sam trails off, noticing from the look on your face that you know what he was alluding to.

“You think this is some kind of self-sacrifice?” you ask in disbelief. Dean is well known for his self-depreciation, and it’s something you’ve seen and heard from him many times, but this? “No… No, I don’t believe that. Why would he put himself through that just to go feral anyway? Why not just lie down and let it happen on its own?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Sam asks, and you frown.

“Sam, you can’t be serious! Dean is not doing this to punish himself for hurting me. There’s no way,” you argue, but you know the green-eyed alpha better than he knows himself. It does sound like something he’d do to himself—some kind of fucked up repentance for his behaviour.

Sam only shrugs, and you sigh, knowing you’ve both come to the same conclusion.

“So, what? You want me to go to him? Get him out of this mess?”

“You’re his mate. Only you can get him back from this,” Cas says, and you laugh bitterly, taking the angel by surprise.

“I bet Dean loves that!” you scoff. “Anytime I told him that like it or not, we’re mates, he shot me down in flames!”

“I know he hurt you, and I can’t imagine how hard this is for you, and Dean knows it too. He told me not to look for you. That he doesn’t deserve your help, but I’m asking you to think about it. Please?”

“I don’t know, Sam. If I go to him, you know what it means, right?” you check, not convinced either of them fully understand what they’re asking of you.

“I do,” Sam responds.

“And you know it’s pretty much a done deal that he’ll claim me in his feral haze? And then when he comes to, he’ll regret it and reject me? You’re asking me to sacrifice myself for him? Because I won’t survive his rejection, you both know that, right?”

“He’d never reject you, Y/N,” Cas confirms what you know in your heart, but it brings no comfort.

“Oh, because a forced claim and being stuck with someone who doesn’t want me is a better fate than dying from rejection!”

“He does want you. He loves you. He just can’t—” Sam starts, but you interrupt with a scoff.

“Give me what I want. I know, Sam. He’s told me that so many times it’s imprinted in my memory!” You huff, quickening your pacing.

You want to say no. You want to protect yourself and your fragile heart that’s still trying to heal, but you know if you were the feral one, Dean would already be here, doing everything he could to get you through it—even claiming you just so you’d survive.

He doesn’t deserve to die, and yet, you don’t deserve to be someone’s mistake, but you can’t see any other option. If you don’t go to him, he’ll die. If you go to him, and he doesn’t reject you, you’ll be miserable, but you’ll both be alive.

“Fuck!” you yell in frustration. Once again, you feel that self-loathing that only Dean seems able to bring out of you. You hate yourself because you still love him even after everything, and you’d sacrifice everything to save him.

“Where is he?”

Walking up to the secluded cabin, you shiver at the deathly silence surrounding you. As if being this deep in the woods isn’t ominous enough, there isn’t even a bird chirping or an insect buzzing in the heavy air.

You’re so deep in the woods that the midday sun can’t even breach the trees. You drove as close as you could, but you’d had to abandon your car about a mile back. This is probably the safest house Bobby had ever found, and you have to admire Dean for choosing this one to hide out in.

Sam had given you the key. At first, you’d been shocked he’d lock Dean in with no way to escape, but you knew feral alphas aren’t to be taken lightly. There had been cases of ferals going on murder sprees, and the green-eyed hunter would never risk putting people in any kind of danger.

“Dean?” you call out as you knock on the door. “It’s Y/N. Sam found me. He said you need my help.” With no response, you take a deep breath, preparing yourself for being too late, and put the key in the lock.

Pushing the door open slowly, the sour smell of Dean’s feral rut slams into you, and immediately your body begins to respond to the distressed alpha. Your skin tingles, heat floods your veins, and slick pools at your entrance. You’ve never been more grateful for a heat to come on as you are now. If it didn’t, Dean could seriously hurt or even kill you trying to get himself out of this.

“Omega,” Dean growls from the doorway of the bedroom and with one look at his bloodshot eyes, you know there’s little to no humanity in him right now.

“Alpha,” you whimper and bow your head in submission.

“Mine,” he groans in front of you, and you jump, having not heard him move across the room.

Dean buries his head in your neck and inhales your scent, gasping as if he’d been suffocating, and your scent is his oxygen.

“My ‘mega,” Dean snarls and slams you against the wooden door. You whimper at the pain and remind yourself not to fight. If you fight, things could get ugly.

Pawing at your jeans, he tries to undo them, but in his desperation to get at you, he can’t grasp the little brass button and punches the wall next to your head in frustration.

“Hey,” you purr, placing a hand on his cheek and smiling as he leans into your touch, “It’s okay, Alpha. Let me.”

Loosening the button and pulling the zipper down, you kick off your shoes, slide the denim from your legs and step out of them. Moving to your shirt, you begin pulling at the material when Dean slaps your hands away.

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

Dean isn’t gentle when he claws at your shirt, grabbing the neckline with both hands and ripping the cotton from your body. The groan that rumbles from his belly when your lace-covered breasts are exposed to his gaze has slick soaking through your underwear.

He wastes no time placing his lips on the tops of your breasts, biting and sucking the sensitive skin, marking you in a way he never has before. Dean pulls the cups of your bra down and quickly finds a hard nipple, and you groan from his overzealous assault.

You whine as the alpha pulls away from you, but before you can complain further, Dean lifts you on his shoulder and carries you to the bedroom.

“Strip,” he orders as he places you back on your feet, and you don’t dare disobey or take your time removing your bra and panties. 

“Good girl,” he praises as he takes his clothes off, and you wonder if just being here is making him a little less feral. “Get on the bed, Omega.”

Again, you don’t dare take your time and quickly crawl onto the bed and wait for his next instruction. Dean kneels at the bottom of the bed, pulls you down by your ankles, and pushes your knees down to the mattress.

“Mine,” he growls as the scent of your slick reaches him, and he lowers his head between your legs. He’s not gentle, anything but, and his longer stubble scratches and jabs at your soft, sensitive skin. It’s sore, yet you quickly fall apart on his mouth.

Before you fully come down from your high, Dean’s fingers are inside you, and he’s sucking and biting his way up your body. When this is over, your skin will be an interesting spectrum of colour; you can already see patches of red on your breasts from earlier, and Dean’s not done with them yet as he goes back to sucking and biting your nipples.

As your forced heat takes over, the pain from Dean’s bites and rough hands ease, and all you can feel and hear now is desire and pleasure and growls and snarls, and Dean, mumbling mine over and over again while his teeth nip at your neck.

“Present, Omega,” Dean growls as he pulls back from your body just enough to let you turn around. You crawl further up the bed and lean forward onto your elbows. You unintentionally wiggle your ass as you get comfortable in your new position, making Dean growl deeply and spank your round cheeks.

You feel his hands slide up your thighs and over your ass. His touch soothes and cools your heated skin. When he finally slams into your slick, aching pussy, it’s hard, rough, and deliciously painful.

Dean is fully feral, and there’ll be no stopping him until he comes out of the rut in five or six days. You know it won’t be pretty, and you won’t come out of this unscathed. At least your heat is making you feel like a wanton whore.

As your humanity is overtaken by omega, much like Dean’s is with alpha, your last thought is being grateful for being in a cabin in the middle of the woods, in the middle of nowhere.

It’s been six days, and Dean still pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. Your heat is starting to wane, but hasn’t subsided so much that you won’t still be pliable under his hands. Still, at least the heat fog is beginning to lift, and you hope it’s a sign that Dean’s rut is finally ending.

It took four knots to get him out of his feral state, but his rut is intense, and he’s insatiable. You suppose the combination of suppressants and being feral will do that to an alpha. 

“‘Mega,” Dean grunts as his hand slides up your spine and grips your neck. “So good for me, baby girl.”

His praise makes you purr, and you feel his hand slide from your neck into your hair and wrap his fist around it, making your body turn to jelly. Dean tugs your hair, and you’re forced to raise to your knees, your back pressed against his chest, and he pulls your head to the side by your hair, exposing your neck to him.

It’s already black and blue from the gnawing he’s been doing there this past week, but this is different. He’s scenting you and licking your mating gland and whining. Dean loves licking and kissing your neck, but not like this. It feels different. There’s a change in the atmosphere, and his thrusts are brutal and stuttered.

You try to move, try and get him away from you, but he snarls and yanks your hair painfully, keeping a hold of it so you can’t move.

“Dean,” you whimper, and he snarls again at the use of his name, and you know he’s not as far out of this rut as you’d hoped. “Alpha, please,” you beg, but it’s useless. He’s too far gone again. His mouth is sucking on your mating gland, and he’s growling and grunting as his knot swells and catches at your entrance.

“Please don’t do it, Alpha. It’s just the rut. You don’t want this… you don’t want me, please!” you cry. But as his knot slips inside, locking you together, your head falls back on his shoulder, and when his teeth break your skin, you scream your release and lose the little self-control you had earlier.

Coming down from your high, you notice that Dean is still latched onto you, and you can feel blood dripping down your neck. The sudden rush of hormones and pheromones from the claim makes you reach another orgasm, and this time, you take the alpha with you. Grunting and growling, Dean’s release coats your walls, and you let the blackness take over.

When you come to, you’re on your side, and Dean is cleaning and soothing the wound on your neck with gentle licks and soft kisses. You’re still locked together, and every twitch of his cock catches your G-spot and fills your womb with even more of his seed.

A brief thought that he could’ve gotten you pregnant crosses your mind, and you hope the fates aren’t so cruel as to have this be when you get your wish of pups; not like this.

The last week finally catches up with you, and the lullaby of Dean’s whines and whimpers, combined with his soft kisses, lull you into a deep sleep.

The sun’s warmth on your face begins to wake you from sleep. Your muscles feel heavy, and Dean’s lips caress your back and shoulders.

“Morning, Omega,” he rasps behind you, sliding a warm hand over your hip, and a pang of dread settles in your stomach. You’re tired, every muscle in your body is screaming at you, and your pussy is in agony from a week of rough pounding and knots courtesy of the alpha pulling you closer to his body. If he’s still not out of this rut, you don’t think you’ll survive another round.

“Don’t worry,” Dean chuckles. “I’m not feral anymore, and the rut has gone.”

You’re confused, wondering how he knew what you were thinking. You don’t think you groaned. In fact, you’re pretty sure you didn’t even move. Your body is too sore to even tense up.

Then you remember Dean claimed you and that he did it while in a feral rut. 

As your whole world comes crashing down around you, you do the one thing you’d rather die than do in front of Dean.

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

Devastation. That’s all he can feel radiating from the omega next to him. When he woke an hour ago, he’d been happier than ever. The second he claimed Y/N, there was a shift, and all felt right in the world.

He thought—naively, he now realises—Y/N would be happy. It’s what she wanted. What she needed, but the sheer anguish from her tells a different story. The worst part of all this is the shame he feels for claiming her without her consent and the knowledge that now, she’s stuck with him whether she wants to be or not.

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s gonna be okay,” Dean tries to soothe her and presses his lips to her shoulder. “Y/N, look at me, please?” She remains on her side, facing away from him and crying, and the alpha in him takes over. His omega is in distress, and he needs to fix it. “Omega, look at me!” he growls lowly, and watches as Y/N obeys his order and timidly rolls onto her back.

Dean’s jaw drops, and he’s disgusted with himself as he takes in her abused torso. There are a couple of bites and bruises on her back and shoulders, but it’s nothing compared to what covers her neck, breasts and stomach. There’s so much bruising that barely any skin has been left unblemished. As he scans further down her body, he can see the same damage over the tops of her thighs and between her legs.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry. I—” Dean can’t finish; he has no words for what he did to her. He immediately gets out of bed and fills the tub with hot water. There’s only so much he can do for her out here in the cabin, but the safe house is stocked with first aid supplies, medication and dry and tinned food. 

When the tub is full, he shuts off the water and walks back into the bedroom, seeing Y/N still lying on her back and seemingly void of all emotion. Whether it’s on purpose to shut him out or she’s in shock, Dean’s not sure.

Walking over, Dean lifts her from the bed and carries her into the bathroom. He lowers her into the hot water and bathes her gently, mumbling words of comfort, hoping she can hear him and that she can find it in her to forgive him.

Y/N’S POV

After tenderly bathing you, Dean left you to soak in the warm water a little longer, telling you there were clothes in the wardrobe and that he’d make something to eat.

“Please eat with me, omega. You need to get your strength up, and we need to talk,” Dean had begged before he left, closing the door but not fully so he could still keep an eye on you.

He was right; you do need to talk. And eat. You feel weak and lightheaded and desperately in need of something to take away the pain that’s pulsing through every inch of your body.

When the water has lost its warmth, you climb out and wrap yourself in a towel, avoiding the mirror in the corner. Dean’s reaction earlier is enough for you to know you’ll burst into tears if you see it for yourself. And you can’t bear to see his claim on your neck when it was given under duress.

Pulling clothes from the wardrobe, you choose the softest and biggest things you can find. You know from the smell that the sweats and t-shirt are Dean’s, but you’ve always gotten comfort from his scent, and you suspect you’ll get even more from it now.

Coming out of the bedroom, you follow the noise towards the main part of the cabin and find Dean spooning pasta into bowls in the kitchen.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” he asks, stopping what he’s doing to give you his full attention.

“Sore,” you chuckle, pulling out a stool. You hiss and wince, the throbbing—and not the good kind—between your legs getting worse for a few seconds as you sit.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean… I hate that I was so rough. That I’ve hurt you,” Dean says as he pushes a bowl and fork towards you.

“You were feral, Dean. It’s not your fault,” you reply, and you mean it. It’s really not his fault.

“It is, though, sweetheart. If I had taken the right suppressants, I wouldn’t have gone feral, and I wouldn’t have claimed you without your consent.”

“I knew what I was signing up for when I came here. I’m just sorry you’re stuck with me,” you smile sadly. “And if you want to leave, I get it. I know I’m not what you want—”

“Would you stop saying that?” Dean interrupts. “I do want you. I have always wanted you. I’m scared that tying you to me will put you in danger.” The desperation rolls from him in waves, and you know he’s telling you the truth. You can feel it. “I want you, Omega. I want this. I don’t regret claiming you. I regret doing it against your will, and if you want to leave me… reject me… It’s what I deserve, and I’ll let you walk out of here right now, but please stop saying that I don’t want you, Y/N. You’re all I want.”

The chemical bond you now share with Dean is overwhelming. He feels more deeply than he ever lets on, and regret over the non-consensual claim is putting it mildly. He’s distraught over it, and his feelings are so strong that you can almost hear the thoughts in his head telling him he’s stupid and he’s fucked things up before it’s really started between you. You can’t take it. You can’t let him think you don’t want this too.

“You’re all I want too, Alpha. The reason I got so upset when I realised you could feel how I felt is because it was a rut claim, and we’d be stuck together and miserable and resentful, and I didn’t want that for either of us, but I could never reject you, Dean. I love you too much.”

The relief that washes over him makes you smile, and because of your new bond, you know he knows every word is true.

“I love you, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn’t admit it before, and I’m sorry I didn’t give you what you wanted sooner.” Dean slides off his stool and comes to your side with a tube of cream in his hand. “Now, let me see that claim. It needs something on it, sweetheart.”

You tilt your head to the side and pull the neck of the shirt down, exposing the angry, swollen bite mark. Dean gently covers the wound with the medicated cream, and you hiss at the sting.

“Sorry, baby girl.” Dean winces, feeling your discomfort as clearly as you can. “Now, eat and then bed, Omega.”

“Just to sleep, right?” you ask, scrunching up your face and wriggling in your seat at the thought of him going anywhere near your pussy for at least a week. “No sex?”

“No sex,” Dean laughs. “You need to rest, sweetheart, so just lots of cuddles and closeness and bonding and sleep.”

THE END

Tags: @acitygrownwillow @akshi8278 @ashbatz @candy-coated-misery0731 @chriszgirl92 @deans-baby-momma @deans-spinster-witch @deansbbyx @deanwanddamons @duncanhillscoffeecups @foxyjwls007 @giggles1026 @globetrotter28 @hobby27 @hoboal87 @impala67rollingthroughtown @iprobablyshipit91 @jackles010378 @jamerlynn @jc-winchester @k-slla @kazsrm67 @kmc1989 @lacilou @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @lyarr24 @maliburenee @michecolegate @mrsjenniferwinchester @nancymcl @negans-lucille-tblr @nelachu2423 @octoberclidan @perpetualabsurdity @roseblue373 @sandlee44 @sexyvixen7 @snackles87 @spnbaby-67 @spnwoman @stixnstripesworld @stoneyggirl2 @suckitands33 @synmorite @tristanrosspada-ackles @twinkleinadiamondsky @waters-2567

#j3bingo #omegaverse #a/b/o universe #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o

[casblackfeathers]

The Stars Will Remember

fic by @casblackfeathers & art by @diminuel

Being a hunter was all Dean knew ever since his mother had been killed by a demon when he was four. Hunting, offing monsters, and then jumping to the next case was his life. Then he met the most alluring and breathtaking omega he had ever seen and spent the next five years loving the hell out of Cas, their life together filled with the domestic lovey-dovey stuff Dean had never thought he would dig so much. When a simple salt-and-burn goes sideways, it ends up with Cas’ memories stolen from him. Dean is left to pick up the pieces of the life they built together, his ‘make it up as he goes’ strategy to prove to his mate that Dean’s still worth a damn, his only chance at getting Cas back. He’s done a shitty-ass job at keeping Cas safe before, but he will pull out all the stops now to woo his mate again and stir the memories Dean knows are still there buried deep inside Cas’ mind.

Genre: amnesia, established relationship, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, alpha!dean, omega!castiel, hurt!castiel, protective!dean, romance, case fic Pairing: Dean/Castiel Rating: Explicit Word count: 60k

READ ON AO3

#destiel #fanfic #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #destiel fic #deancas fic #my writing #The Stars Will Remember #screaming crying throwing up!!! #I'm so excited about this #diminuel's art looks so freaking awesome😭😭

[thestruidora]

How about this prompt with Dean Winchester x reader?

In my defense, the moon was full and I was left unsupervised.

Thanks!

Cry Wolf

Supernatural Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Werewolf Dean, Possessive Behavior, Some Angst, Fluff and Smut, Non-con Elements if you squint, Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Smut, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Blood Kink, Knotting, Alpha/Beta/Omega Undertones

Category: F/M

Pairings: Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean gets bit by a werewolf during a hunt, forcing Sam on a quest to find the sire lycanthrope and cure his brother. Suffering the effects of the transformation, Dean is quarantined in the bunker all by himself. It really is bad timing when you come a-knocking, utterly oblivious, and with a bleeding gash on your upper thigh. Did I mention it was a full moon?

This is a one-shot. Here's the masterlist of my other fics: Masterlist

Chapter One

Bad Moon Rising

"Don't come around tonight, well it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise."

You were limping, the cut on your leg sending a shooting pang through you every time you took a wobbly step forward. Getting in your car had been difficult, driving had been terrible, but leaving the vehicle and trudging down the asphalt road to the uneven terrain along the entrance of the bunker was the real bitch.

You banged on the side of the door, the metal continuing to vibrate long after your knock.

“Guys, it’s me.” You announced. A dark, heavy cloud loomed over your head, covering the big full moon that shone in the sky. Soon little beads of water were beginning to fall on top of you. “Come on, it’s starting to rain!” Still, there was no response.

You cursed under your breath and took your phone from your pocket, calling Sam one more time. As it had happened in your previous attempts, his voicemail was all you reached.

“Shit.” Your thumb hovered over Dean’s name, about to press the call button yet again, but a gearing sound stopped you in your tracks.

The bunker’s door was cracked open by an inch, wide hazel eyes meeting yours through the gap.

“Dean?” You could only see a sliver of his face, but his pupils were incredibly dilated, almost obscuring his irises entirely. His mouth was agape, and he panted for air as if he had just run for miles.

“Hey, kiddo.” You cringed, not only at the condescending nickname that he had forced on you years ago, but also at the rasp in his voice. It was gruffer than usual, deep, and full-bodied. “Whatcha doing here? Is Sam with you?” He looked over your shoulder, eyes darting around to inspect your surroundings.

“Uh, no. I’ve been trying to call you guys, is this a bad time?” You placed one of your hands on the side of your wound, wincing at the ache. With the other hand, you held onto the wall in front of you, uncomfortably shifting your weight.

Dean noticed the rip in your pants, a dark red spot tingeing the fabric of your jeans, and instantly his expression changed. The furrow in his brow disappeared and his face lit up, a glint you had never seen before flashed in his eyes, making them appear greener for a second.

The door of the bunker swung open, revealing the disheveled image of the older Winchester.

His hair was messy, as if he had tossed and turned in bed. His lips were split and swollen, as if he had bitten on them till the skin broke. And the navy blue shirt he wore was drenched in sweat, the light material stretching under his biceps and his heaving pectoral muscles. You didn’t remember him being that ripped.

“What happened?” He asked, focus unwavering from the gash on your thigh, tongue poking out to wet his parched lips.

“I had a run-in with some demons. Those sons of bitches did a number on my leg.” You explained, not liking the way he didn’t look up at you, appearing to be entranced by the seeping blood coming from your damaged skin.

Dean refused to say anything in return, or maybe he simply wasn’t capable of doing so. He just stared at your injury with a kind of sinister awe.

“I don’t wanna impose or anything, I was just kinda hoping Sam could patch me up.” You added at last, those words seeming to snap him out of his stupor.

“I can do it.” He blurted out, not giving you any time to think before he wrapped his hand around your wrist and tugged you inside.

You cried in pain when you stumbled into the bunker, not prepared to move your thigh so abruptly, his grip too tight where he held you without letting go.

“Sorry.” He murmured, noticing your discomfort but not loosening his clasp.

The wet sole of your boots squelched on the vinyl floor and you felt a rush of relief to be sheltered from the increasing rain, if only that feeling could’ve lasted for longer.

Dean slammed the door behind the two of you, the click that reverberated in your ears signaling that it locked as it closed.

“It’s fine.” You said, in regards to his apology, and offered him a weak smile while you pried his closed fist from your wrist with some difficulty. For some reason, he didn’t seem to want to let go.

You took a few shaky steps towards the foyer’s balcony, resting your arms on the railing of the staircase and looking down at the antechamber of the bunker, all the blinking lights from the old control panels catching your attention.

“Where is Sam, anyway? He’s not answering his phone.” You question, with your back to Dean, but no reply comes your way.

You shrug it off, assuming that he merely didn’t want to disclose his brother’s whereabouts. It was none of your business, after all. Like most things the Winchesters get involved in, it’s probably highly dangerous and way above your pay grade.

You can’t even begin to remember how many times you tried to participate in their world-saving crusades, be useful somehow, only to be flat-out prohibited by Dean. He’d say you weren’t ready, that it wasn’t safe, that you were too young, and so on until you stopped showing interest altogether.

Now, you hunt on your own, only seeing them from time to time. But you like it that way, you like having no one to bark orders at you, you like proving that you’re good at your job without anyone’s help. Unless, of course, you screw up and get hurt, in which case you do need someone’s help.

“Do you even know how to do it? ‘Cause I think it’s gonna need stitches.” You inquire about your wound, the abused tissue throbbing even as you stand still.

You sense movement behind you and Dean’s hand appears at your side on the railing, his torso touching your back and his nose tickling your nape. You hear him inhale deeply and then let out a sigh of pure satisfaction, the hot air landing on your neck and sending a tingle of goosebumps up your arms.

“What the hell was that?” You turn to face him, forcing some distance between the both of you, absolutely shocked at the quick turn of events. “Did you just sniff me?”

“No, of course not.” He shakes his head, almost as confused as you are. He scans you up and down, licking his lips again, and his eyes glaze over before he puffs out a breath and fights to recompose himself. “I mean, yeah, a little bit.”

“Why?” You elongate the syllable, thinking that maybe, if you really enunciate your words you might be able to get some sensible answers from him.

“It’s just that-” He advances on you and you back away from him, your ribs hitting the railing when you have nowhere else to go. He stops in front of you, invading your personal space and caging you with his big arms. “You smell so fucking good.”

He hunches over you, bending his spine till the tip of his nose touches your temple and his lips graze the high point of your cheek.

“Dean.” You call to him, but he fails to acknowledge you in any way. “What are you doing?” You try again, more forcefully this time, and he ignores you just the same. There’s a continuous vibration coming from his chest that sounds awfully similar to a purring animal, almost like he wants to soothe you into submission.

His left hand grabs the fat of your hip, bunching up the hem of your shirt and squeezing under the fabric, abnormally long nails nipping at your skin. His right hand, however, entangles itself on the hair at the base of your scalp, pulling unceremoniously so as to expose your neck to his exploration.

He mouthes on your pulse point, huffing as he pants and nuzzles against you. He doesn’t exactly kiss the sensitive skin as much as he runs the plump pillows of his lips up and down the span of your bared throat, drawing invisible shapes of his choosing.

He then finds a particular spot he likes best, right behind your ear, and fixates on it. Completely lost to the world when he lolls out his tongue, longer than what is humanly possible, and licks where the taste of your natural scent is the strongest.

The moment you feel the wetness of his saliva laving at your flesh, you jolt jarringly, pushing at his chest with all your will, and it’s like trying to move a mountain with the way he doesn’t even budge.

“Stop!” You yell, mustering as much assertiveness as you can into your tone before you give him a final shove, sending him three to four steps backwards.

Dean seems to awake from a daydream, eyes flashing to a fluorescent green and back to his normal hazel. He stares at you with a frown, unable to catch his breath, attempting to take a step in your direction but you raise a finger at him and he halts.

“Stop it.” You order and his frown deepens, looking wounded and unhappy, but he obliges.

You spear a glance at the stairs to the side of you, your only escape route since he was currently blocking the door from where you came in. You could race down the steps and lock yourself inside of the many rooms in the bunker, but with your leg the way it is, you wouldn’t make it past a single step before he caught up to you.

With your index finger still raised at him, you support your weight on the railing and move to make your descent down the stairs, planning on taking it one slow step at a time.

“You’re hurt.” He states after you swallow a lament while on the second step, visibly itching to come closer. “Let me help you, I can carry you.”

“No. You’re gonna stay right there.” You command, doing your best to not let the pain show in your features as you drag yourself to the floor below.

His feet inch towards you while he eyes you like a disobedient puppy, knowing full well that there’s nothing you can really do to stop him.

“You’re gonna stay right where you are, and we’re gonna wait till your brother comes home, and then we’re gonna sort this out.” He’s at you before you finish your sentence.

You yelp when he snatches you suddenly, pulling you below your shoulder blades and lifting you up, your only option being to wrap your calves around his hips and brace yourself onto the back of his neck to keep from falling.

He carries you down the rest of the stairs, short-winded and with droplets of sweat rolling down his forehead. He burns you, not only with the heat of his unblinking gaze, but also with his unnaturally high body temperature. You had never felt someone’s skin this hot in your life. You didn’t understand how he could be standing, let alone holding you like you weigh nothing.

“Ok, you can put me down now.” You say when you get to the antechamber, but Dean’s grip tightens on you and he continues to walk into the war room.

“Everything’s gonna be fine.” He’s mumbling, and you’re not even sure he’s talking to you or to himself. “I just need to-” He drops you on top of the light-up map table in the middle of the room, with surprising care and delicateness. “I just need to scent you.”

“What?!” You exclaim in disbelief, trying to move away but he restrains you, sinking his claw-like fingernails into your nape as a clear display of dominance. You whimper at the sting and he leans over you, purring louder than before.

“Dean, listen to me.” You can’t shake the feeling that you’re attempting to reason with a crazy person, but you have to try. He’s much stronger than you, bigger and faster, even more so with one of your limbs impaired. Talking him out of this is your only chance of preventing whatever he has in store for you. “You’re sick, you must be delirious from a very high fever.”

“Love your taste.” He’s clinging to you, head tucked into the crook of your neck as he laps at you with his tongue. The moist, flexible muscle undulates across your collarbone when he goes further down, pouty lips closing in to suck at the juncture of your shoulder, right above your artery. “Wanna bite you so bad.”

“You’re not making any sense.” He’s completely disregarding your words, though he smiles at your breathy tone.

You press your mouth shut and close your eyes when he rakes the pointy edges of his teeth over your veins, not wanting him to hear or see how his ministrations are beginning to affect you. You hadn’t realized until that moment just how sharp his canines were, closer to fangs than anything else.

He tugs at the collar of your shirt, ripping the cloth with outstanding ease and exposing your bra. By that point, your own breathing was labored, the mounds of your breasts bouncing up and down in their tight confinement as you heaved.

Dean’s irises are radioactive green when he feasts his eyes at you and proceeds to stick his face in your cleavage. He groans like a madman and pulls at one of the cups of your brassiere, your right tit spilling out and being clutched by him almost immediately.

He traps your nipple between his index and middle fingers, teasing it to a stiff peak and you shake at the burst of pleasure. You grab at his forearms to steady yourself, swallowing down a moan that threatens to escape you.

“Let me hear you.” He yanks your head back from where he holds you by your scruff, as a dog would do to another, and you let out a whine at the bestial way he handles you. “That’s right, don’t hold back on me, give me everything.” He takes your puffy nipple into his mouth, suckling and biting, and a fire spreads through your lower abdomen at the sinful sensation.

Once he ceases his assault on your boob, the tumid bud is covered in his spit, the chilling air from the ventilation system making it that much more sensitive.

His hands fly to unbutton your pants, and you’re so dazed from his heady presence all around that you allow it for a minute, only moving to intercept him when he has both of his hands hooked at the waistband of your jeans and is already tugging them down.

“Dean, we gotta stop this.” You beg him, a considerable amount of your restraint lost as you fail to convince him, his hands too strong for you to swat away while he peels off your jeans. The material sticks to the dry blood around your cut, making you flinch, but he continues till the garment hits the ground, cooing an apology for your discomfort. “There’s something wrong with you, you’re not yourself.”

He pays you no mind, transfixed by the image of you laid in front of him only in your underwear. He looks even bigger than when you first arrived, thick neck bulging with raised veins and rippling muscles straining under his shirt.

“You smell ripe.” His voice is hoarse and booming, a feral edge emanating from him when he kneels before you. He brings his head close to the gash on your upper thigh, hypnotized by the blood that oozed from it, filling his lungs with the scent of your arousal mixed with your blood. “You’re good enough to eat.”

The ends of his white teeth sparkle in the artificial light coming from the lamp in the ceiling, appearing to be razor-sharp. It gives him an ominous aura that causes you to shiver under his unrelenting glare, and he smirks at you, wrapping his hand around your legs to prevent you from moving.

His lips graze the inflamed skin around your wound and you squirm at the contact, fearful of what he might do next. The talons at the ends of his fingers scratch at you as a warning to stay still, and you do, gasping when you feel the scrape of his tongue on your tore flesh.

“This can’t be happening.” You say to yourself as you watch him hunched over you, smacking his lips at the taste of your blood, as if you were a rare delicacy and he was hungry.

His first couple of licks stung, causing the muscles of your thigh to contract involuntarily, a torrent of purrs coming your way in an effort to alleviate your distress. But as his saliva coated your broken skin, the soreness subsided and the pain was numbed. All you could feel then was the strange but far from unpleasant sensation of his continuous lapping, a spark of neediness shooting up from where he was laving his tongue at you, making your middle throb and pulsate.

He grunted, looking up at you as if he could sense your craving, as if he could smell it. His left hand travels up your leg, stopping by the fabric of your panties, pushing it to the side, and uncovering your glistening cunny.

You feel his licking on your cut becoming sloppy as he salivates and his fingers move to caress the top of your pussy. He presses gently on the hood of your clit, revealing the swollen bundle of nerves to his eyes that shine with a desperate desire.

“Look at how wet you are.” He mutters, mouth colored with a slick shade of crimson. The pads of his fingers rub up and down your slit, gathering the moisture seeping from your clenching hole to massage your flushed bead of pleasure. “You’re so precious.”

The praise goes straight to your pulsing center, molten lava settling in the pit of your stomach, and you mewl shamefully when the back and forth of his fingers makes your pussy gush.

You never thought Dean would do something like this to you. He had always treated you like a baby sister, while he was the overbearing, overly protective older brother.

He’d comment on the length of your skirts and on the tightness of your blouses, going so far as to deny you rides to places if you didn’t change into something he thought of as appropriate.

He’d hang around you at bars, hovering too close, keeping any and all interested guys from interacting with you.

He had always seen you as a kid, and now there he is, sucking on the lacerated flesh of your thigh like it was his last meal and fingering the sopping place between your legs.

“Please!” You cry out, no longer sure if you’re pleading for him to stop or to keep going.

“You want more?” You answer your own internal question by nodding enthusiastically to his, and Dean groans and drools on your open cut as he inserts two of his long, thick fingers into your scorching hot cunt. “You need more to cum, princess?”

Your lips form a perfect o when he breaches your tight, gummy walls, stirring your insides until he finds the spongy, tender spot he was searching for and fucks it with come-hither motions, over and over, again and again.

“Oh, my God, Dean!” You wail, high-pitched and wanton, losing all your inhibitions and bucking your hips in time with the flicks of his wrist as he drills his callused digits inside you, roughly and repeatedly, without giving you time to adjust to his incursion.

“That’s right, squeeze my fingers.” His voice was low and heavy, laced with untamed ferociousness, akin to the rumbling of a snarling wolf. But even with his lips gleaming with the ruby substance from your wound that he insisted on licking, speaking between the obscene slurps, Dean managed to rein in his most primal instincts to encourage your free-fall into bliss. “You can let go whenever you want, sweetheart, I’m right here.”

You revel under his coaxing, under his reassuring words. You didn’t know how much his approval would affect you, embarrassingly loud wet noises coming from your soaking folds while he hits that place inside of you that makes your eyes roll back and your tongue loll out.

All your life you dreamed of having Dean’s validation, and now he was showering you in it, your cunny fluttering at his constant moans and grunts of elation, even though you haven't touched him once. His satisfaction came from giving you pleasure.

That burning euphoria mounts up and up till it snaps and you fall down the precipice. A rush of pure, untainted ecstasy overtakes you and you scream, the drive of his fingers scissoring your spasming walls prolonging your orgasm.

As you lay there, atop the light-up table, a panting and heaving mess, Dean slowly withdraws his fingers from you, making you squirm and whine at the absence.

There's some movement happening around you, the rustling sound of clothes hitting the floor along with the metallic clank of a buckle. You barely register the lack of his mouth on your injured leg, any ounce of pain that you once felt coming from it having been entirely erased.

You sense him grabbing the sides of your panties and ripping the fine cloth with quick, firm hands, and you still can't find it in yourself to react while the flimsy pieces of fabric are rendered into useless scraps that fall off of your body.

But the blunt end of his dick searing into you is what brings you back to reality, the feel of his girth stretching you in ways you didn't even know were possible being too much to ignore.

The whole thing was too much. The position that you were in, with your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips yet again just so they don't dangle off the table. The noises coming from both of you, broken sobs that begged for more of that violent jolt of adrenaline. And, of course, the incomparable sensation of being split open by the biggest cock you've ever taken.

“You're doing so good, kiddo.” You make grabby hands at him when you hear him call you that, whimpering pathetically, and he leans over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips.

Some sick part of your brain brings forth all the times he hugged you when you were still a teen. The way his huge hands would squeeze the small of your back and your tits would rub up on him as you stood on your tippy-toes to receive his embrace. The way he would linger a little too long and bend his neck to steal a whiff of your hair.

He pinches the side of your belly and you gasp, his tongue seizing the opportunity to force its entrance into the warm cavern of your mouth. You scratch the skin of his nape and pull on the short hairs on the back of his head, moaning at the slick, pornographic kiss.

His lips close around your tongue and he sucks on it, slurping noises filling the room as he pounds into you, his heavy balls hitting your dripping pussy and squelching over and over.

“Keep taking all of it.” He breaks the kiss to whisper in your ear, filthy words in that baritone voice littering you with goosebumps. “Be a big girl and take all of this dick.”

You let out a puff of hot air and nod at him, promising to do your best as he spears the fat head of his shaft in and out of you with abandon.

His sweat begins to blend in with yours and you tug at the hem of his shirt, wholeheartedly annoyed at the fact that he was still wearing it at all. Dean chuckles, all sharp and pointy teeth that could rip into you and take out a chunk of your flesh, but instead, he spoils you and removes the offending garment, putting his hands over his head and pulling the shirt from behind till it is off, tossing it aside without a second thought.

You grope the span of his torso, from his broad shoulders to his barrel chest, and then his defined abdomen. There was definitely something unusual going on below the surface, an unlimited potential he kept trying to contain. As if he could grow bigger, become somehow larger, change right before your eyes.

You feel your way through the taut muscles under his skin, running your palms down his powerful arms and back up to his wide neck. He gulps under your scrutiny, your hands catching the way his throat bobs and his pupils shrink then dilate again, seemingly as mesmerized by you as you are by him.

He takes your right hand and brings it to his face, mouthing the pulse point, scenting you as he fucks you, the hammering of his length into your cunny growing erratic. He licks and sucks and scrapes his fangs on your wrist, almost to the point of breaking the fragile skin, groaning as you whine desperately.

The more he rams into you, molding you to the shape of his absurdly hard member, the more you come to terms with the fact that he has ruined you to any other man. Because why would you seek someone else's touch when you know only Dean Winchester and his monster dick have the power to obliterate your pussy?

With his free hand, he applies pressure to your clit, swiping the rigid pearl up and down and side to side, ignoring your pleas for mercy as you find yourself on the verge of overstimulation.

“Come on, kiddo, give me another one.” He commands, tone silky and honeyed, but still imposing and domineering in a way that if he were to tell you to jump, all you could do would be to ask how high. “I know you can give me another one.” He keeps going, thumb relentlessly playing with your pleasure point. “Cum again for me.”

You yell, honest to God yell, unsure if you can survive the wave of heat that burns in your loins when your cunt compresses around him, all the nerve endings in your body vibrating simultaneously while you cum.

Because he fucked you so good, because he rubbed you just right, because he said so.

As the dam breaks, a sudden spurt of hot, slippery fluids pours forth from your slit. A copious outflow of liquid cascades from you and lands on Dean's pelvis and his lower stomach.

“Fuck!” You elongate the word, sobbing due to the unmatched delight you experience like you never experienced before. The feeling boarding on too much and not enough at the same time, Dean's fingers continuing to grind against your center even as you squirt all over him.

“What a messy girl.” He grins, iridescently green eyes sparkling atypically, fingers finally quitting their assault on your raw clit, your cunt contracting around his veiny cock from the aftershocks of your mind-blowing release. “Spraying your juices everywhere.” He tuts and pulls out from you, inch by inch, agonizingly slow.

You give out a pitiful lament at the loss and at his taunting words, the noise that comes from your throat utterly unbecoming of a grown woman, but you can't seem to care at this point.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know I-” Dean interrupts your expression of regret with the full weight of his dominant hand landing between your legs, slapping your puffy folds, and making you writhe on top of the table.

“Don't fucking apologize.” He snarls, leaning over to bury his nose in the crook of your neck and swipe his tongue on your feverish skin. “You did so good, I'm covered in your scent and everyone's gonna know.”

You mewl like a bitch in heat when he starts to jerk the span of his shaft on top of you, the mushroom head catching on your entrance from time to time while he strokes himself from base to glans. Precum weeps from the bulbous end and mixes with your own wetness.

“Gotta mark you now.” He tells you like it's the most normal thing in the world, like it's obvious. His hot breath tickles your neck, the tips of his sharp teeth almost piercing your soft flesh and you shiver at the idea that he still might just lose control and do it.

You crane your head down and do your best to steal a glance at the steady rhythm he's building, managing to stare in awe as he pumps the meat of his member.

The tender tissue is flushed and throbbing in his firm grasp, his balls tensing up, full of pent-up energy. You can't believe how big it is, beautifully cut and well groomed. Painfully hard and thick, so thick you don’t even understand how it had entered you.

He grunts and squeezes the round edge before picking up his pace, not knowing where to look as his eyes roam from your swollen lips to your pert nipples, and then your quivering pussy.

“Gonna make you smell like me.” He mumbles, muscles straining and veins bulging, steaming ropes of white bursting from his urethra and landing on your face, on your boobs, and on your belly.

Dean roars as he covers you in his spent, dense and sticky and endless shots of cum painting you. You whine in surprise, licking off some of the substance that got on your lips. He tastes rich and tangy, full of a power unknown to you but still palpable, making your tongue tingle and your throat burn when you swallow.

He's out of breath and so are you, but he doesn't allow you time to recompose yourself since he's already rubbing his release over your belly, taking a glob of it and smearing it on your slit. You thrash about because the feeling is too overwhelming, but he holds you in place and pushes his seed into your welcoming hole.

“You look gorgeous like this.” He says, reverence in his tone while he bites your earlobe and stuffs you with his essence. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

You don't know what to say, you don't know how to act. You hadn't expected to be categorically ravished by the man you had always seen as an older brother today.

In the back of your mind, you knew he wasn't that Dean, the Dean you knew your whole life, at least not fully.

Something inhuman drummed beneath his emerald eyes, the familiar hazel long gone by now. And any shadow of doubt that you might have had about his feral state is pulverized when you feel his length harden again against your inner thigh.

There’s no refractory period and you scream as he bullies that fat dick inside you once more, feeding it into you more carefully this time.

“Holy shit!” You're hoarse, sinking your nails into his shoulders and drawing blood.

How can he be hard? How is that even possible?

He hisses when he bottoms out, filling you to the brim. His rough hands find leverage on the meat of your hips, clasping each side firmly before he begins to pound into you. He uses you as a cock sleeve, lusciously scraping the ridges of his hard-on against your clammy walls.

You can't find your voice, the room spins around you, and your head bangs on the hard surface of the table in time with his thrusts.

You can feel everything. Every nook and cranny that he reaches in you. The twitch of his shaft every time he hits your cervix. The furniture that supports you creaking below.

“Mine.” He proclaims, the smacking of his sweaty skin on yours upping in tempo, the dirty noises the two of you make bordering on offensive. “Say it, say you're mine.” It's an order and you want to comply, but your brain has turned into a scrambled, useless thing so all that comes out of you is a prolonged whimper.

Dean isn't able to handle your unresponsiveness, growling loudly and inflicting another slap where you are most sensitive, a broken sob erupting from you at the contact.

“Tell me who the fuck you belong to, kiddo.” His voice is so velvety it makes your eyes roll.

He’s everywhere all at once, you can’t see or hear or smell anything else but him. Somehow he’s still growing inside you and your lungs burn because you keep forgetting to breathe. You forget your own name in favor of being the center of his world in this moment.

“I- I'm yours.” You croak out, tears getting caught by your lashes, convinced that the speed in which he pumps in and out of you should be criminal. “I'm yours, Dean."

He pulls violently on your hair and howls, guttural and wild, the base of his member expanding impossibly larger still and stretching your opening when he begins to cum inside you. You try to pull away, but you physically can’t, not with the way he pins you down and plugs your cunt with his knot.

How did that happen? How did you end up here?

“This isn’t real.” You think you say it out loud, but maybe you didn’t and there’s no way of knowing for sure.

You can still feel him pulsating and ejecting spurt after spurt of his milk into you, purring so loudly you can’t even hear your own thoughts.

He rests his head on your chest, the both of you stuck to each other until you don’t know when, but he seems content with that. His fingertips draw irregular shapes up and down the expanse of your arm as he regains his wind much quicker than you do.

You stay like this with him, and at some point, he senses something you don’t and tenses up, straightening his back to look to the right of him, careful not to tug where he’s joined to you.

“Dean!” You faintly catch Sam’s voice when he shouts, but it’s muffled by the ringing in your ears.

The younger Winchester is standing by the end of the staircase, features overtaken by shock, a syringe filled with blood in his hand as he stares bug-eyed at the scene before him.

His brother on top of you while you lay naked on the table in the middle of the bunker, covered in cum and trapped on his dick, eyes dazed and blissed out, panting through parted lips.

Dean looks at Sam, then at you, then back at Sam. The supernatural glow in his irises dies down and he seems like his true self for the first time since you got there, brows furrowing while he clicks his tongue and considers the situation.

“Listen.” He raises his index finger at the furious brunet, a sheepish grin on the corners of his mouth. “In my defense, the moon was full and I was left unsupervised.”

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural x reader #supernatural imagine #Supernatural smut #dean winchester #dean x reader #spn fandom #request #story prompt #sexy times in the bunker #werewolf dean #eat my heart out #bite the fuck out of me #paint me like one of your dallas girls

[holylulusworld]

Love by heart

Summary: Can you and Dean work things out? What about Sam?

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, a/b/o, arguing, insured Sam

Catch up here: Omega by nature

“Sammy?” you whisper as the tall hunter is still out cold. The shifter got him good. “I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it wasn’t Dean. It’s just, that we got so comfortable at the bunker that I never thought an enemy would be able to enter it.”

“Y/N,” Dean sighs deeply. He gently places his hand on your shoulder, making you flinch. “Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you. I know it’s a little too much to bear. I cleaned the bunker and got rid of the shifter.”

“It’s all my fault.” You hide your face in the palms of your hands. “I should’ve known better. I’m a hunter, an experienced one. How could the monster trick me into believing it was you? You want to mate me. Hilarious!”

You start to laugh uncontrollably. “Y/N,” his features soften, and he softly whispers your name. “It’s not your fault but mine. Shapeshifters are sneaky bastards. They tricked me and Sammy years ago too.”

“Maybe I wanted to believe him, Dean. If I can’t have the real Dean, I want to have the second-best thing. An exact clone,” you sniffle. “At least this one didn’t hunt me with a hammer.” You chuckle this time. “Demon Dean on the loose was something else.”

“We’ve been through a lot together,” he runs his hand over your back. “You’re the strongest woman I ever met. No one can compare to you. Not my mother, not one of my friends, or any lover I had.”

“You only try to make me feel better,” you wipe your wet eyes. “It’s fine. Really. Please stop pitying me. I know that a woman like Cassie is more your taste. Finding the right mate is hard and maybe, I only wanted you because you were always around.”

“Sammy was always around too,” Dean argues. “Stop pretending that you didn’t hide your presentation from me to keep me from claiming you.”

“I did not! I hid my presentation since I presented,” you snap at Dean. “This had nothing to do with you, but my father and brother. I was born and raised in a clan of hunters. They had no use for an omega. A beta was fine. But an omega got abandoned and left behind.”

“Y/N, sweetheart,” he regrets his harsh words when you choke out a sob. “All these years  I made you believe that I don’t want you because I was scared of hurting. Loving a Winchester is a death sentence. Look at my mother, Jess, Lisa, and Sarah. They got killed or hurt because of us. I didn’t want the same to happen to you.”

“Liar!”

“I’m not lying! I tried to protect you.” Dean yells back. “Stop accusing me of being a liar. I’m anything but a liar!”

“You only rejected me because of my presentation. If not you would’ve crawled between my legs years ago! I simply didn’t do it for you!” You jump up from your seat to glare at Dean. “Admit it! Say it out loud. You’re nothing but a knothead.”

“Watch your tongue, Y/N!” Dean breathes in your face. “You should remember your place in the food chain.” He backpaddles when you backhand him.

“I dare you to say shit like that to me ever again DEAN WINCHESTER!” You growl in his direction. “No man talks like that to me and walks away with intact balls!”

“Oh, when it comes to your balls you want me to be nice?” You snarl at the alpha. “You started this by changing the way you see me only because I’m an omega.”

“You want to hurt my balls?” His hands shoot toward his crotch to protect whatever he’s hiding in his pants. “Sweetheart that’s not nice of you to say.”

“I did not! I-“ He huffs. “It’s just…you are an omega, and we could’ve been together all this time. I went through the worst ruts because you were around, but I couldn’t touch you. I was so scared of hurting you with my knot!”

“Liar, liar your pants are on fire,” you sing-song, and stick your tongue out. “Whatever kept you from being with me wasn’t fear. It was your knot!”

“Exactly!” He says. His eyes widen and he shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”  Dean curses loudly and grips the backrest of the chair you were sitting on earlier. “Fuck. You make me lose my damn mind one day, omega.”

You shudder as Dean addresses you with your presentation for the first time. “You are one to talk!”

“Do you know why the shapeshifter came here?”

“I guess he wanted to kill Sam and me. We are most wanted, on top of the list of every monster,” you shrug.

“No,” Dean shakes his head. “He only came here to get you. That monster couldn’t fight his instinct because he stole my identity. He remembered every single thought I had of you. And he felt what I felt. Need. Want. Lust. Possessiveness. Lust…”

“You said lust twice,” you grumble and cross your arms over your chest.  “This doesn’t count!”

“Well, lust is important,” he smirks. “He wanted you because I want you. Luckily I came here just in time before that sonofabitch got the chance to touch you.”

“I could’ve defended myself.”

“I never once doubted that you’d defended yourself just fine.” He growls. “Can you stop arguing about everything I say? I tried to tell you that I love being there for you and to protect you. I still have nightmares of my time as a demon.”

“The hammer?” You challenge. “At least the demon had a thing for me too. Even if bringing a hammer for a date is a bit too much.”

“You hit me pretty hard with that baseball bat if I recall right,” Dean snaps back. “It felt like you tried to kill me!”

“I had to defend myself against a knight of hell!” You and Dean snarl and growl at each other.

“Guys, I appreciate you are trying to talk things out, but can you do this outside of my room,” Sam says. “I got attacked by a shifter and still got a terrible headache.”

“Sammy!” Dean and you gasp. “Sorry, Sam. We were about to…” you trial off. “Uh-you know. Dean and I will talk things out later.”

“Good.” Sam slowly sits up. “I only had to get myself almost killed to make you talk.” The hunter looks at you and his brother. “Please for the love of fuck. Go out there and do something against this tension going on between the two of you…”

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x omega!reader #a/b/o

[angelsberrymilk]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

and Oh. My. God.

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

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

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

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

#supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn #omegaverse #alpha dean winchester #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x y/n #dean x female!reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fluff #supernatural fluff #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fandom #spn fanfic #spn fandom #spn fic #comfort #my post

[altagraye]

Big Big Love Part 12

Maia age: 28 

Sam age: 31 

Dean age: 35 

Roslyn age: 3 

"Out there is a fortune waiting to be had  If you think I'll let you go you're mad  You've got another thing comin' " 

-'You've got another thing comin',-Judas Priest. 

Ch 12: You've got another thing comin' 

TW!: Demon- Dean

Maia: 

The next morning I was impossibly sore, my bruises displaying themselves in black and blue. I slept through most of the day and by nightfall I was back in bed, feeling the brunt of how this new Dean had treated me. the real dean, wouldn't  leave bruises even in his deepest rut. It was so out of character for him. Dare I say worse than when he took me the night Felix's goons attacked. I took care of Ros as much as I could, and she curled up next to me, feeling that her momma was hurt. I woke again in the middle of the night, to my phone ringing. The caller ID read, Sam and I answered. My voice raw and my mind barely able to comprehend what he was telling me. 

"Maia, listen to me, I have Dean. I'm coming home." I jolted up into a sitting position making me groan.  

"What? Where are we going to keep him?" I asked, shocked that Sam was even able to subdue him. I kept my voice hushed so that I wouldn't wake my pup. Where am I going to keep her? I don't want to let her see Dean like that.  

"I have an idea. Be ready, I'm ten minutes out." He told me before clicking the phone dead. My heart was beating into my ears, fast and hard. I'm not a hunter but I know enough to defend myself from Dean's stories years ago. I needed salt, and I needed to draw a devil's trap underneath Roslyn's bed, quickly. I did that and got dressed in better clothes. I picked Ros up in my arms, she was getting heavier by the month and grew out of her clothes quicker than I could say toddler.  

She rustled and woke as I opened up the door to her bedroom. I set her down in her bed, turned her nightlight on and tucked her in.  

"Hi Baby. you need to stay in your room, okay? no matter what you hear, DO NOT come out of your room, until I say so." I told her, her little face confused and tired, but she nodded and I gave her a kiss on the forehead and closed her door.  Just then Sam came in from the front entrance, dragging Dean behind him forcefully, down the staircase. It was odd, I wanted to support both of them. Part of me wanted to punch Dean in the face in favor of Sam and the other wanted me to set Dean free from those demonic-handcuffs, in favor of him. Two roads converged to one. Two sides of one coin. 

I was staring at both my mates at the same time. Two husbands. This was so strange but it felt, natural in some primal way. Dean noticed me and smiled, flashing his black eyes in my direction. 

"Hiya, M. Saw that condom on the dash. Who's the better knotter?" He asked. Sam rolled his eyes and yanked on the cuffs to keep him walking down to the basement where he sat him in a chair on top of a devils trap. He looked almost normal staring at me, leaned against the shelf of oddities looking him over. Sam went out to gather supplies.  

"What? No-last night was the best time I've had in years?" He tried to small talk me. Maybe to sway me in to getting him out of those cuffs. I only looked at him unable to discern whether or not to tell him off or leave the room. 

"You know, you really make the best little moans when you're passed out. Still gettin' it in. Oof so hot." He said Sam just now coming back in with a small red cooler. Sam took out a syringe of blood. And injected Dean with it. I almost couldn't take it. Seeing my two loves, at war with each other. 

Seeing Dean like this, was torture for me. After grunting like a pained animal from the purified human blood working through his system, he'd opened that mouth of his again. 

"Seriously, I don't think you had as much fun with, Mr. sidelined here. At least I have use of both my arms. You know to hit all the sweet spots." He smiled, his eyes returning to black. I bunched my hands into fists and left the room as Sam through holy water on Dean's face. the recoil to his comment.  I checked on Roslyn's room, making sure she didn't leave and found myself staring at the impala now  moved to her proper resting place in the garage.  

Remembering all the events of the past 24 hours. I've had sex twice, been claimed twice. My palms touched my claims. What is this cruel fate that has become of me? I had heard of polyandry before, in crude omega jokes thrown around by co-workers. But I didn't think it was all that popular and never known anyone who had been through it or done it. Polyandry is to have two or more male mates at the same time. Sam and Dean are mine now, and I'm theirs. How are they not going to rip each other's head's off? They've already had gruesome fights without this predicament. 

why do I have to be such a confusingly complicated mess of an omega? I don't think Sam will hurt Ros, even though she isn't his. Oh gods, does this make him her, I don't know stepfather-uncle? What am I even saying? I sound crazy. The lights in the bunker went out, making me jump. And the red hue of the emergency system override came on.  

This can't be a good sign. Hopefully Roslyn is still asleep, otherwise seeing the Bunker like this would scare her. I came back up from the garage, the red lights went out and the normal lights were back to normal. I was on high alert and walking tentatively, listening to every sound possible. I smelled whiskey in the air near me. Dean must've gotten free. I heard grunting, like something or someone had been defeated. As I went further into the catacombs of hallways, reaching the bedrooms, I had smelled dry-cleaning. Cas? I thought he was out for the count? With not even enough mojo to teleport. I heard the rough shuffling of feet descending back down into the basement. I checked on Roslyn's room. Nothing was disturbed, not one grain of salt moved in the line I made at the base of her closed door. Good, she was listening for now. a door to the electrical room had been demolished from the inside out. And there was a deep hole in the drywall in one of the hallways. A fight had happened. No blood, so my guess is someone was subdued. 

I smelled both intense waves of Pine and Whiskey the further I went down into the basement. My Alphas were in distress. As much as I had been afflicted by Dean's tortuous state earlier I knew I needed to be there, at least have my scent in the room in an attempt to calm him. My heart started to thump chaotically in my chest. I heard the same guttural, animistic grunts from before. Dean was being injected again. His body was fighting it.  

I entered the room, the trap door opened, revealing Dean bound to the chair again. He'd smiled at me, darkly. I went further into the room.  

"What's the matter, strawberry-short-cake? Come back for seconds?" He tried a chance at charming, but I knew better. I straightened my back, I didn't want to look like a victim. I came into the room, Sam to my left and Cas to my right up against the shelf. Sam had put one empty syringe down and grabbed for another. I leaned myself up against the cold concrete wall, Dean to my right. I crossed my arms against my chest, angry and defensive. 

"I was limping, you left bruises Dean." I told him, pointing out his unnatural viciousness from the night before. Normally he'd never think about violating me that way. His way of affection was tender not ruthless. Sure, Sam was rough, but not like the black-eyed-Dean had taken me.  he'd looked at me, his eyes green this time, trying to break my confidence. 

"I don't think it's considered rape if you enjoy it, sweetheart." He raked his tongue across his teeth and lips, remembering how I tasted. Sam offended by Dean's comment shoved the needle into his forearm and emptied its contents into my first love. Listening to Dean being in pain, made me uncomfortable but I knew it had to happen, it was for the better. Dean noticed something in the distance, staring back at him. 

"Peekaboo. Come and give dad a hug. I've missed you, Roslyn." He said motioning his hands outward to try and act more innocent. A coercion tactic easy for a child to accept. At first i had ignored it thinking he was tricking me. But when i heard her little scared voice I flung myself out of the room to go after her. 

"Daddy?" She questioned. My heels making firm contact with the ground, Sam armed with another syringe jammed it into his thigh, through the material of his jeans, more grunts. He was still fighting to hold onto his demonic side.  

I grabbed Ros up and stormed out of the basement, up the small flight of stairs to the level where the bedrooms where and too her back to her room. The salt line disturbed, her door ajar. I was upset, and scared to death. I don't know that this new Dean would have been able to control himself if she got out earlier. I cradled her face in my hands. 

"What did I tell you?! Stay inside. DO NOT come out until I say! Stay here until I come and get you." I told her raising my voice. She started to cry, I hated to see her upset, but I needed her to be safe. I sat her down on her bed and tucked her in again. Leaving the room and heading back into the torture zone.  

I saw yet another needle jab into flesh, the last one. I swallowed hard. What if it didn't work? What if this demon thing was so deeply a part of him that if you got rid of that, he'd just die, again? I put my hand over my left claim, dean's. My hands were trembling. If I lose any of my love's now. I'd die. Dean's head lolled forward, passed out from all the injections. he lifted it slow, revealing obsidian staring back, deep and unwavering like a black hole. Sam armed himself with a holy water flask and Cas, an angel blade. It can't end like this, not when I just got you back. You stubborn fool, fight for me. I fought for you. My breath hitched when I saw the onyx dissipate from his eyes like fanned smoke. Did it work? 

Still in a state of delirium, Dean managed to joke, "You look worried, fellas." His green eyes, lush like wild forest ferns. He looked at me with deep-set sadness.  

"Maia? I'm so sorry." He hung  his head, heavy with guilt. It really was over, not once did he apologize for last night when he was in full-blown demon mode. My feet lead me over to him, with fury bridled passion. My emotions culminating like angry storm clouds. I slapped his sand-papered cheek, sending his jaw to the left. I didn't give him time to react, cradling his cheekbones in my palms, bringing him in for a kiss that I so desired. Something genuine, something not laced with lust.  

Sam got him out of his bindings. We ascended to the main part of the Bunker. All of us looked like we'd just come back from intense battle. In a way we had. I sat in the middle, Dean to my left and Sam to my right. Cas sat across from us, staring back at us with a peaked curiosity. I set my head down on the cold surface of the mapped table, my head resting in the middle of the North Atlantic ocean. The mark on my wrist was prominent and dark. I stared at it. It was peculiarly beautiful. I traced the lines with my index finger and sighed. What does this mean? I remembered Dean had gotten it too, when he claimed me. Having a sudden burst of energy, I grabbed at Dean's hand to look at his wrist.  

I set it down on the table and set mine next to it. Sam held his out too, he'd gotten it too. It was the same swirling pattern, like a rush of currents converging into one. Three strokes curling at the ends and three dots in the empty space next to those.  

"Whoa, When did we get inked?" Dean questioned his mind still coming down from his demonic-highs. I had never seen this symbol before last night. Cas furrowed his brow and got up from the table going to the bookcase behind him, searching wildly for titles. Brushing his fingers along the spines of the dusty texts.  

Cas gathered a stack of books and set them all down. Giving each of us one. Dean groaned and grimaced. 

"Cas, I hate reading." He said. I don't blame my mate, I really didn't feel like searching through wall after wall of text either, even though I liked books. But my mind felt like I didn't have the energy. Sam flipped through his book, as if a new burst of energy possessed him.  

Cas was researching too. We looked through just about everything Cas stacked up. It took three hours and by the end my brain was thoroughly fried harder than a bucket of KFC extra crispy chicken. Ooooo that sounds really good right now.  

I set my head down on the pages of my book unable to read another word. Dean has his book open but was resting his head on the back of the chair, slumped down with his arms across his chest, snoring rather loudly. I missed seeing him like that so much. My Galahad was back. But now i had two of them. I groaned and shifted my head to the right seeing Sam's eyes course through sentences, deciphering their ancient messages. He noticed me staring at him and smiled. Rubbing his hand in between my shoulder blades.  

"Mmmm, that feels good. I'm sorry, I can't read anymore, I'm spent." I told him. He leaned in and kissed my forehead gently.  

"It's okay. I think I'm on to something anyway." He told me. Cas had an aha moment too.  

"The triskele, a symbol the Celts used." He announced. Dean was still snoring and I didn't catch all of what Cas said. So I lifted my head up from the grimy book and straightened out my sore back. I kicked Dean's shin to wake him. We all needed to hear this.  

Dean sucked drool back into his mouth, "Pie? Where's the pie?" His dreamy response made me giggle. I missed how cute my Alpha can be.  

Cas looked thoroughly annoyed with dean's shit. Wow, if looks could kill. I didn't know stoic Cas could look so, pissed. 

"It's not the Triskele. It only goes back to 500 b.c. according to the Celts." Sam countered. 

"Dude that was like forever ago, how much older can you get?" Dean said, seeing the cogs in his mind start to turn, ever so slowly. 

"The Greeks brought it to the Celts. The Greek name, Triskelion became the Celtic Triskele. This symbol is even older than I thought. It probably goes back to the beginning of time." Sam corrected.  

"Do you think it has to do with my dynamic?" I asked trying to make sense of it.  

"Let me see your neck." Cas asked averting his eyes from his book. I pulled the collar of my shirt down, stretching it over both my small and bony shoulders. Both my claims in full view of everyone.  

I could sense Cas' intense stares. Sam and dean leaned into their chairs simultaneously, gawking at their claims.  

"The Triskelion, appears when two Alphas claim the same omega. The three share each other in all actions. Once the mark appears, the binding of souls is permanently linked. Although rare in modern times, such occurrences were more commonplace during complex mating orgies of ancient times. The mark cannot be undone or removed once established." Cas stopped reading. Dean's eyebrows rose at the mention of orgies. But I didn't have an orgy. I just, had sex with both of them at different times, however close together it was.  

Maybe since Dean could taste Sam inside me, that counted as close enough in time as if I'd fucked them at the same time?? All of this was so confusing. My cheeks started blushing wildly. I wonder, what kind of heavens I'd be sent to if I had both my mates in me at the same time.  

"So in layman's terms?" Dean asked needed a straightforward answer. 

"You three share an intimate and profound bond. A very ancient one." Cas said.  

Dean scoffed exasperatedly. 

"Can you shove the profound bond shit up your ass Cas?" He remarked. Sam chuckled a bit. Cas looked a bit hurt by Deans' typical harsh remark.  

"No, I cannot." He said closing his book.  

I shoved my book away from me. I need sleep. I got up from my chair, the feet skidding on the floor. I winced, my bruises were still gnawing at me. Dean and Sam got up at the exact same time. In response to my movements. The pine and whiskey scents were overflowing and converging, crashing together.  

"I need to hit the hay, guys. I can't think about anything else." I announced. Cas gave us a goodnight and stayed there continuing to read through the old books. I took my time going to the bedrooms. I don't know which one I should take. Go back to Sam's, the one I'd been using or to Dean's old one? So instead I picked an empty one. A fresh unscented start. Sam and Dean followed me like puppies. I pulled my hair up into a bun, entering the barren bedroom.  

I took my shirt and jeans off. Revealing lacy white undergarments. Sam and dean stood there in awe of their omega. They gulped simultaneously. 

"Fuck you're hot." They both said. I opened the covers of the bed, ready to be engulfed by its pliability. I entered it. As I watched my alphas remove their. Clothes down to their boxers. Sam taking a bit longer. Poor gimpy. My heart was thumping wild in my chest.  

I shoved the pillow under my neck, deeper, exhaling from the comforting gentleness.  

"Come to bed, my Alphas." I demanded. 

They wasted no time joining me. Sam spooning against my buttocks. Dean on the opposite side of me his chest pressing lightly against my breasts. Dean shoved his leg between my thighs and against my clothed folds. It wasn't sexual, just possessive. Sam cast one of his legs across mine, another act of ownership.  

It was quiet for a long moment until dean broke the silence talking to his brother.  

"Dude, you're leg is touching me." He said with some discomfort.  

"Get over it, Jerk" Sam snapped back.  

I was instantly aggravated. I could not handle two grown Alphas acting like disgruntled teenagers when I was this tired.  

"Alphas! Shut up and sleep."  I demanded exerting my best pissed off momma tone.  

"Yes, dear." Dean said reluctantly, kissing my collarbone.  

"Sorry." Sam apologized shortly and left a tender kiss on my hair. I didn't want to be a moderator for the rest of my life. So needless to say this situation was gonna need some compromises and getting used to. They did settle down probably focusing their energy on me.  

Together, the three of us slept soundly.  

3 weeks later: 

Maia: 

I sighed rubbing out an intense headache that decided to pang against my skull. Roslyn was in her high chair, chanting pancakes to herself over and over. I flipped the flap jack in the pan, it was nearly burnt on one side making my nose wrinkle. Sorry Ros, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.  

I served up her breakfast, having just ate my own. I didn't feel like eggs today which was kind of odd but i never thought much of it. As usual Ros only ate half. I tried to get her to eat just one more forkful but she refused. When i threatened her with no bubble bath today she ate the rest of it.  

I got her in the tub with her favorite rubber ducky and washed her up. I loved the little things like this. Dean and Sam were currently afk, on a vamp nest hunt. They'd been keeping tabs on for a while. Cas had gone with them too. I asked him to really to make sure they didn't tear each others throats out.  

So it was just a week of girls days at the Bunker. I'd put Ros down for a nap after her bath when a wave of nausea wracked through me. I ignored it as best i could until I couldn't anymore.  

I managed to find a toilet to upchuck in, feeling the bile rise in an insecent pace. I was left gasping. I don't get it. Why was i sick so suddenly? It couldn't be the restaurant food we ate last night. It's been too long of a time gap and i didn't eat leftovers for breakfast. Another wave, more bile, causing me to arch my back over the toilet releasing the sickness with gross sounds.  

I flushed it down, brushing my hair out of my face. And breathing for a moment. I grabbed the mouthwash out from under the bottom of the sink. Next to it in the depths, shoved behind a package of Q-tips, I could just make out the box of omega-pregnancy tests.  

It had dawned on me. I frantically took my phone out of my plaid pajama pants and examined my calendar app. My heat is late. My heart was pounding in my chest.  

I took the box out dumping the pack out onto the vanity and took them. I paced around the tile, letting my thoughts ruminate waiting for the reading.  

I jolted at the sudden sound of my phone ringing. It was Sam calling to give me an update.  

A drop of nervous sweat dripped down my neck, soaking into my shirt. I needed to answer or they'd think something was wrong. I answered. Trying my best to hide my emotions.  

"Good afternoon, Sweetie. " 

Greeted my mate on the other end. Sam.  

I smiled in the mirror, trying to muster up the strength.  

"Good afternoon! How did the hunt go?" I asked. He'd put me on speaker phone.  

"It was fucking awesome! I broke a machete, cuz my kill count was higher. Fourteen, this time. Whaddaya think, Babe?" Dean replied being very proud at the hunt result.  

"Wow! That's pretty high. Did you save any for Cas and Sam?" I asked twirling my hair nervous as all hell. 

"Yeah, Sam got about ten of 'em. He's still working on strengthening his bum shoulder." Dean explained.  

"Speaking of that, how does it feel to have that sling off?" I asked Sam.  

"Never felt better. Hey, I'm sorry this took so long. We're about a two days drive from home. We can make it sooner if we switch off, maybe even make it in the morning with Cas behind the wheel too. Does that sound like a good idea?" Sam asked. Gods, no. I was staring down the two words I did not want to see right now. Both results had the same outcome. Pregnant. 

There was a long silence on my end. Causing Sam to get a little suspicious. 

"Uhh Earth to Maia? You want us to pull an all nighter? We can do it." He said.  

"What? No, no. It's fine. You guys need some rest, even Cas can, I dunno what does he do for fun?" I needed time to think about how I wanted to go about this, news. How was I even going to tell them?  

"Angel-shit. Hey, I can't wait to see Roslyn again. I bet she's itching to play hide-seek. Has she been asking for me?" Dean asked getting serious. I felt my stomach, swallowing. There's a pup inside me right now and I have no idea which one of my mate's is the father. 

"Yeah, a bit. Hey um. Alphas? I love you." I almost never said that on a normal basis. So saying it now, would send up major red flags. I felt another wave of nausea wash over me. I can't puke on the phone, they'd know. 

"I know." said Dean reciprocating our inside joke.  

"We'll be home before you know it." Sam assured me. No. Take your time. I need time!  

"Alright." I replied. Before Sam hung up the phone Cas made a comment that Roslyn said he was the best at hide-seek. Probably because how he played, it was obvious he didn't know how to play it. He'd 'hide' under covers and in the same closet every time without fail. he was the worst hide-seek player in history. The nausea left me. Thankful I wasn't about to puke again. I checked the tests again. both of them still read Pregnant. I backed up, numb to the news my skin making contact with the closed door of the bathroom. I slid down, my bottom reaching the floor. Maybe the tests were faulty? Who're you kidding Maia?  

You just upchucked your entire breakfast into the porcelain throne, have had a gnawing headache ever since waking, and your heat cycle was late, by two whole weeks. How are you going to tell them? Separate them? Tell them at the same time? Don't tell them at all? Tell Cas instead?  

If I do that, then, they might just fight to the death right there. A primal fight for dominance. I can't take this! I sat there bawling my eyes out for a while. Until I pulled myself up by my bootstraps and wiped away my tears. I have two days to figure this out.  

I gathered all the perfume style scent blockers we had in the house. I placed my hands on both my claims. If I really am pregnant, I'd smell like honey. I took in a big drag. I could have been holding honeycombs in my palms and I wouldn't know the difference. I sighed closing my eyes. Gods. Artemis, please help me out here. I covered myself in the neutralizing spray, being sure to spread it on my claims.  

I needed to calculate how long it lasts. If Sam and dean catch honey on me, they would know. over the two days it took them to get here. I'd devised a plan. even though it was wrecking me I need to tell them. This baby is not just mine. It's mine and either Sam or Dean's. they have a right to know. During those two days, I ate my face off, once they come home I would try to hide my voracity. My pregnancy symptoms this time were unusually intense.  

In the middle of the night, I didn't make it to the toilet to puke, having later to clean up the sick on the wood floor. I made myself a nest to calm my nerves. Combining all three of our scents. Strawberry, Whiskey, and Pine. The headaches were killing me and my entire body is sore, my boobs in particular being the most tender. I can't even put on a bra.  

Taking care of Roslyn was a challenge, but I managed enough. She ate all her pancakes this time. My breakfast managed to stay down for now. My heart sunk when I heard them come in from the garage. a wave of fear overcame me. I'm not ready to tell them. I was washing dishes, even though they were already cleaned. I needed to distract myself. Luckily I put on scent blockers this morning when i got up. Dean blew a 'Boo!' into Ros' ear to greet her. she laughed, and didn't scare easy.  

 I was very thankful she'd forgotten about Dean's demonic side. He picked her up and put her on his hip. Kissing her forehead. I gasped from Sam's touch, both his arms hugging me from behind, crossing over my belly button his fingers grabbing my hipbones. His chin rested in the nook of my neck. He gave his claim a long lingering kiss. He squeezed a little too tightly. Making me hurt. It wasn't his fault he didn't know how I was feeling. I set my head against his.  

"I missed you." he told me. I grabbed his hand unraveling it, the pressure being too much for me to take. I turned around and gave him a kiss. I felt like I was going to break down. I'm pregnant, Sam. I smiled opening my eyes from our kiss.  

"Missed you too." I replied. My mates took showers and told me about their hunting excursion. Dean got a little too graphic in his story telling and I about puked over the mapped table. but I was able to hold it in. I waited until nightfall. I need to tell them, both of them at the same time. I can't hide this forever. Especially once i start to show. I took a long hot shower, the water soothing my aching body. i cried underneath the guise of the water. This kind of thing doesn't happen to people like me. I'm not a slut like that black-eyed bitch said I was am I? a part of me believed her. I don't know the paternity of the pup growing inside me. That kind of thing happens on a stage for low-brain activity viewing pleasure. Next on Omega-Maury, Who's your real Daddy? I started to laugh, this is ridiculous. 

The shower would wash off the scent blockers. I put on some pajamas, again forgoing the bra. Dean and Sam were on the bed, some distance between them with the TV on and Sam's nose in a book. My hair was dripping. I walked over to Dean, fully entertained by a horror movie playing on the screen. I kissed him and wrangled the remote out of his grip. I turned the TV off and he groaned, setting the remote out of his reach on the dresser near the TV.  

"Aww it was just getting to the good part too! What a buzz-kill." He protested sitting up from his prone position. I'm sorry Dean, but this is way more important than a Freddie Kruger movie marathon. I hopped on the bed, crisscrossing my legs and sitting in the middle, facing the headboard. I started to take Sam's book from him. 

"Okay, one more sentence." Sam caught on. No, not another word. I took the book and closed it with a light slam, making him lose his page. His face started to load a bitch-look. I gave them a very serious look and grabbed both their hands in mine. I need them now, more than ever. They knew something was up. Their attention fully focused on me. 

My lips were quivering and my entire body trembled like mad. They got closer to me, their scents getting stronger in an attempt to soothe me.  

"Hey, we're home. Everything's fine." Dean said, his thumb stroking my cheek. 

"Maia, if you missed us this much, we should have drove all night." Sam said gripping my hand tighter. At this point I broke into a full out cry. 

"Please, don't hate me." I choked out through my sobbing. They had confused and scared looks on their faces. I took their hands, slipping them under my pajama shirt and gently pressed them to the bottom of my stomach. Their eyes flashed to where I had guided their hands and then up to my face.  

"I'm pregnant." a final tear falling with my confession. At first they were dumbfounded but their expressions turned to wide smiles. I was still wildly upset.  

"That's a good thing." Said Sam kissing my cheek.  

"A really good thing." Dean added, his thumb stroking my belly.  

"Not this time. I don't know which one of you is the father. And I'm afraid. what if something goes wrong? Like last time. What if I miscarry? What if you two go feral and, and hurt each other. I don't know. I don't know what to do." I let out all my worries that had culminated within me for the past two days. Dean kissed my lips and set me down  gentle on the bed. Sam kissed my belly and came up throwing my arm over his shoulder. Dean hugged my arm. They both wiggled up to me and kissed each side of my cheeks. 

"Don't worry about any of that." Sam said.  

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there. Smooth sailing 'til then." Dean said resting his nose in his claim. taking in my scent now laced with honey. 

"Mmm, ain't that the sweet damned thing you could smell, Sammy?" Dean asked, talking to his brother from across me. Sam followed suit. 

"The best." he replied. We stayed like that for the rest of the night. My mate's combined scents soothing me off into dreamland. 

End chapter 12. 

#Big Big Love Series #omegaverse #a/b/o dynamics #demon dean #alpha!dean #alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!sam winchester #unplanned pregnancy #supernatural #supernatural abo #supernatural fanfiction #spn fic #spn fanfic

[winchestersickness]

Sorry anon I somehow deleted your ask 😔 but here's the rec! I went through my ao3 history and picked these, I hope there's something you haven't read yet and that you will enjoy :))

Gift Horse, Mouth, etc.

Sam gets accidentally stuck with a curse that can only be lifted by acting on his deepest hidden fantasy. Dean thinks it's hilarious, and why won't Sammy just tell him what it is already? It can't be anything that weird. Right?

Please Tell Me Who I Am

A/B/O AU. As a beta, Sam shouldn’t even be attracted to his alpha brother (much less be yearning for Dean to finally take that last step into claiming him officially) but, a few compatibility issues aside, they’re happy with the pseudo-mateship they’ve got going on. At least, until a hunt-gone-wrong ends up with Sam being cursed into an omega. He and Dean race to find a way to reverse the spell before it’s too late…but now Sam’s not entirely sure if he even wants to be cured.

Convalescence

Post-Cage!Sam seen through the eyes of others.

(more under the cut)

In Loco Parentis

“Sam, are you,” Dean pauses, squeezing his eyes shut for a second because his brain just doesn’t want to catch up. “Are you jerking off and thinking about Dad?” (Sam is 15).

take the things you love

The thing is, Sam’s reinforcing every bad behavior Dean’s ever had with this kind of shit. Fucking Sam stupid over the hood of the Impala? Dean’s wet dream—unfortunately also Sam’s—but more importantly the implicit validation of every claim Dean thinks he has on Sam—unfortunately every claim Sam’s lizard brain wants Dean to have. (Sam knows his brother wants to possess him. It's a point of internal conflict.)

There's An Enochian Incantation

Dean finds a spell to create a weapon to banish leviathans. It involves an Enochian incantation. The last thing Sam's already-fragile mind needs is to hear words in the language of angels.

brother only wants

Sam breathes like it takes effort, and then he says, "Wanting you was the very first thing I realized was wrong with me. It was how I knew there was something sick inside." (One of them had to fall first. A story about devotion.)

Hands Away

When you’re horny and alone with one person in one room for a long time and you’re sixteen and all you’ve ever been taught is to love your brother more than anything, it doesn’t seem like that far of a leap to start imagining what his mouth would feel like around your dick.

Squint into the Sunset | Glare into the Gloaming

The 70k-word nonlinear coming of age story that literally no one asked for. "I know you want to give him the world, Dean, but you were never supposed to give him this."

Taking Advantage

Sam is doing everything Dean tells him to. It’s weird, and Dean wants to get to the bottom of it so he pushes Sam. Sam breaks.

I'd Gladly Lose Me To Find You

Sam takes a vow of silence in order to pull Dean out of Hell, but by the time Dean comes back, Sam's lost more of himself than just his voice. Splits off completely from canon after the season 3 finale.

One Going On Eternity And Counting

Some boundaries were never meant to be crossed ...

with hearts that are guilty, not remorseful

“I’ve wanted you since I knew what wanting was.” It’s a fact, as plain as the day. The sky is blue. Their mother was killed by a demon. They hunt monsters. Sam wants Dean. “I’ve loved you for longer, I think.” “God,” Dean’s voice is barely a whisper, raising a hand to grip his own hair by the roots and pulling. He looks absolutely wretched. “I fucked you up, didn’t I?”

When You're Not Here

The third time Sam Winchester comes to school with bruises, Mrs. Davidson decides it's time to intervene - before it's too late.

Gutless

Sticky fingers, that’s what Dean always calls him.

Bullet for my Valentine

Stupid. He is so goddamn fucking stupid. Running his mouth like a fucking idiot, not knowing when to leave well enough alone. Bad enough that he just practically talked dirty to his little brother, which, Christ – he must be more stressed than he thought if his self-control mechanisms have started malfunctioning that badly. But no, no, he came up with a scenario straight out of a bad slasher film, as if that is something normal people talk dirty about, as if that is something Sam would seriously enjoy. As if – As if Dean hadn’t hunted his own brother through the maze of the bunker, eyes black and hammer raised to strike, not even a full year ago. As if Sam hadn’t, just a few weeks back, knelt at his feet, neck bared, waiting for Dean to deal a fatal blow with a fucking scythe.

I haven't been reading spn fics for long so idk if all these are well known already, but I loved all of these (a couple of them are platonic). hope you'll like them!

#There's more under my tag -> #Fics #:) happy reading! Hope you'll like these #Check the tags ecc ecc #sam & dean #m #supernatural #Wincest #Samdean #Fic rec #Spn #Anon #Asks

[spnexploration]

Pack chapter 26

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

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

Chapter summary: The Pack heads out on Claire's hunt

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 2.2k

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 25 <- -> Part 27

I couldn’t sleep. I tried not to disturb Dean, who needed sleep just at much as I did, not that he would admit it.

Eventually, I got sick of just lying there. I crept out of the bed, eased the door open and slipped into the corridor. I was pretty sure if we’d been in a motel room Dean would’ve been on high alert and I wouldn’t have been able to do that without waking him, but tonight at least he was more relaxed. And exhausted from days of rut.

I made my way to the kitchen, turning on the kettle to make myself a cup of tea.

“Umm, hi,” I heard from the doorway. I damn near jumped out of my skin. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

I turned to Claire. “That’s ok, just wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up.”

“You can’t sleep, hey?”

“I did a fair bit of sleeping the last few days.”

She looked at me critically but just said, “Sure.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, you know, night owl.” She’d caught me lying, and I could see she was too. Still, I didn’t want to pry.

“You want some tea?”

“Nah, I already made myself a hot chocolate earlier.”

“Oooh, that’s better. But still, tea might help me get back to sleep.”

She stood and watched me for a minute while I readied the tea bag, put it in the mug and poured in the water. I was headed to the fridge for milk when she continued. “Are you a hunter?”

“No, didn’t know about monsters until they all started beheading vampires in front of me. But I am learning some lore and things, and Dean promised to let me train now that I’m better.”

“Right.”

I don’t think my answer pleased her.

“What kind of monster are you hunting?”

“The kind that does not need to be discussed at 3am,” Dean said in a displeased voice, walking in and blinking heavily in the light. He crossed his arms, “What are you both doing up, the night before a hunt?”

I suddenly became very interested in looking at my tea.

“What, are you going to send me to bed?” Claire sassed at him.

“Yes.”

“I’m not some little kid to be bossed around.”

“No, but you are the one who wants to go hunt this monster, and if you do not get your ass back into bed and get some more sleep, you ain’t coming.”

Claire growled.

“Growl all you like, I have your car keys.”

“This is bullshit!” she yelled, storming down the corridor towards the bedrooms.

“Now, do I have to threaten you too?” he said to me, a slight smirk on his face.

“I didn’t want to wake you with my tossing and turning.”

“Well, I’m awake now, so you can toss and turn all you like. Come on.” I let him usher me to our room and into bed.

---

Dean threw Sam the keys to Baby, who caught them with only a small show of surprise on his face. Dean also held the keys to Claire’s car in his hand. She held her hand out to him for them.

“Nope,” Dean said, “I’m driving.”

“That is my car!”

“And you were up half the night. I’m driving.”

Claire huffed and stormed off for the garage, Sam and Madi behind her. I went to follow, but Dean caught my wrist.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said when I turned to look at him. “Can you go with Sam and Madi? I want to talk to Claire and I think it’ll go better if it’s just the two of us.”

“Oh, umm, ok.”

“Thanks,” he said, kissing my forehead. I headed to the car.

---

“You ok back there?” Sam asked as he drove.

“Umm, yep, fine. Just a bit tired,” I answered from the backseat.

“You can have a nap if you want one.”

“I’m fine.”

---

Dean was ranting about Madi and I staying in the motel room again. Like we hadn’t done that last time.

He was really starting to get on my nerves.

“Make sure the salt lines are maintained, I don’t think there are any demons around but you never know. Don’t open the door, not even to housekeeping. Don’t-”

“For God’s sakes, Dean, we know how to stay in a bloody motel room!” I yelled, unable to deal with his continued monologue.

He looked at me shocked, and then his expression started to turn to stern. I didn’t stick around to listen to his lectures.

“I’m done,” I muttered, stomping to the bathroom and slamming the door.

I couldn’t hear all of the words, but I’m pretty sure Sam told Dean to leave me and then that they should go. I sat on the lid of the toilet, my hands shaking slightly. A minute or two after I’d stormed in, I heard gentle knocking on the door and Madi calling out that they’d gone.

I came back out, feeling a bit embarrassed about my outburst.

Madi smirked at me, “Don’t worry, I was about 30 seconds behind you in wanting to yell at him.” She always knew how to make me feel better. “So, Netflix?”

We settled on the bed with the best view of the TV, scrolling for something to watch.

“You ok?” Madi asked me gently.

“I’m fine,” I said, trying to hide my fidgeting.

“Because you look like someone who’s stressed about their Alpha out hunting, perhaps because he got injured last time.”

I looked at my hands.

She wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “It’s ok to be worried.”

“Thanks, Madi. He’s just so... blasé! Hasn’t acted at all like he got shot last time and maybe he should look after himself. Instead he’s lecturing us on how to be safe, telling Claire she needs to do what she’s told or she’ll be left here too. Nothing at all about his own safety!”

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Dean doesn’t like people fussing about him. And both of them act as though injuries and apocalypses and whatever else are just the inconveniences of the job. They’re insufferable.”

“I don’t think Claire likes me either.”

“Claire would never admit this, but Dean’s been a surrogate father to her. She’s probably scoping you out.”

“What, for if I’m any good as step-surrogate-mother? Or if I’m good enough for Dean?”

She laughed, “One or the other, maybe both!”

“Great, more drama I’m bringing to the Pack.”

“Hey, hey, you didn’t bring drama to the Pack. And Claire will be fine, don’t stress about it. Besides, if she’s not fine, Dean will tell her to pull her head in.”

“I guess,” I said unconvincingly.

“Come on, I’m sure I saw M&Ms in one of these bags.”

I let her try and distract me.

---

It was after 6 when Sam pushed the motel room door open, Claire and Dean following him and arguing between themselves. Sam looked like he was sick of this shit, which made me wonder how long they’d been going for.

But mostly I was busy looking them up and down, checking for any signs of injury. They all looked ok.

Dean finally looked sick of it. “Enough!” he barked at Claire.

She looked she was going to continue, but appeared to think better of it. She huffed and walked over to the open packet of M&Ms.

Still looking frustrated and running his hand through his hair, he turned to Madi and I. “Anything to report? Any problems?” His tone was tense, all business.

“No, totally quiet,” Madi answered.

I had already been tense, but now my nerves felt shot from the agitation radiating off my Alpha. Dean looked like he was to say something to me, but pulled himself up. Perhaps he had noticed me shrinking away from him.

He ran his hand down his face. “I’m going to check on the car, it was making a noise earlier.”

“No it wasn’t-” Claire tried to say but was drowned out by Sam loudly saying, “Good idea.”

 Dean manhandled the door open and almost slammed it behind him.

Claire was looking at Sam, irritated. “The car was not making a noise!”

“That’s just Dean’s way of saying ‘I need to go do something with my hands to calm down’,” Madi explained.

“What, he just walks off? Some kind of Alpha he is,” Claire scoffed.

Madi growled lowly, always quick to respond. Sam put his arm around her and she calmed some.

“Better an Alpha that recognises he needs space than one that keeps pushing through and ends up hurting those around him,” Sam said mildly.

Claire rolled her eyes and turned back to the M&Ms. Madi huffed quietly but stopped growling.

Once she’d calmed down, Sam kissed Madi’s forehead then come over to sit next to me. “How are you going?” he asked me gently.

“Fine.”

“You don’t really seem fine.”

“In the 5 minutes you’ve been here?”

“Ok, I see your point. But you didn’t seem fine when we left either. Or in the car.”

“Dean sending you to do his dirty work?”

He chuckled, “No, he can fight his own battles. Besides, I think you had a point this morning, he was going on and on. But that doesn’t mean that yelling at him and locking yourself in the bathroom is normal for you, either.”

I looked at my hands, flicking at my fingernails.

“You don’t have to tell me, but maybe you should think about telling Dean.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I said more forcefully.

He held his hands up in surrender, “Ok, ok, I can take a hint. Just think about it.” He rubbed his hand on my upper arm in a comforting gesture then moved over to the tiny kitchenette where Madi was waiting. The motel room was slightly bigger than our usual, with two queen beds and a fold-out couch for Claire in a little sitting area next to the kitchenette, but still felt suffocatingly small.

I couldn’t help but feel worried about Dean being outside alone when monsters were still on the loose, too. His paranoia had rubbed off on me. What if he got hurt while he was out there and we didn’t notice until it was too late?

A little later, I stood up and headed to the kitchenette myself. I fidgeted with my hands whilst I stood awkwardly in front of Sam.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, voice full of concern.

“Can you, umm - I know it’s silly - but can you please check on Dean?”

“Not silly at all,” he said, heading for the door. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Madi took my hand and gave it a squeeze while Sam left. Claire was staring at her phone, headphones on, seemingly oblivious to everyone else.

Shortly after, the room door opened again. A much calmer Dean stood on the threshold, eyes searching for me. “Y/N, can you come outside for a minute? It’s ok.”

I nodded and headed to him. If he’d still been angry I would have thought I was in trouble, but he looked more caring and concerned. Sam squeezed past him back into the room and then Dean took my hand and led me out, shutting the door behind us.

He turned to face me. “I’m sorry, ‘mega, I’ve just realised what an insensitive asshole I’ve been being.”

“What? You’re not-” he gently cupped my cheek with his hand, the sweet gesture silencing me.

“Yes, I have. I forgot that the last time I left you alone all day in a motel room, I got shot. Of course you’re worried. Sam and I didn’t think about it until you just sent him out to check on me.”

I started to tear up. He pulled me into a hug.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured.

I leant into the hug and enjoyed the feeling of being held, being close to my Alpha. He stroked my hair.

“Are- are you being careful?” I asked him.

He pulled back a little so he could look into my face. “We are always as careful as we can be, we are always looking out for each other when we’re hunting. But, sometimes we get injured. It’s going to happen occasionally. I know you’ll probably never be completely relaxed – I worry about Sam when he’s out without me, too – but I don’t want you freaking out every time we go out either.”

I bit my lip, not really sure how to reply. I couldn’t just turn off my worry.

He stroked the side of my face with my thumb. “How about this? You work on trying to relax when I’m hunting, and I work on paying better attention to you?”

“I’d prefer you paid better attention to your safety.”

 He chuckled, “Ok, deal.”

He wrapped me in his arms again. I breathed in the scent of him and felt a little less stressed.

“You know,” I said after a minute, “Madi worked it out straight away.”

He laughed, “Of course she did, she’s smarter than Sam and I combined.”

.

.

.

Tag list:

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@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

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@malindacath

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@supernatural--whore

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@justanerd1

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@magssteenkamp

#alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o #protective!dean winchester #protective!sam winchester #alpha!sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #spn a/b/o #dean winchester hurt/comfort #sam winchester hurt/comfort #alpha!claire novak #claire novak

[musclesandhammering]

Spn Opinions That’ll Have Me Burned at the Stake Pt. 2: Electric Boogaloo

I’m back and bitchier than ever. For reference, here’s part 1.

• Season 5 wasn’t that great.

• D*stiel isn’t real, it’s a sucky ship, and that confession scene was just the writers pandering to the rabid deancas fans cause they knew they were the only ones still watching the show lol. And they left it ambiguous enough that they could still say it was meant platonically if they needed to.

• I hate how they watered down both angels and demons post-season 5ish.

• I liked Ruby 1.0 better than Ruby 2.0.

• I hate Honey!Cas. They just did that cause they didn’t know where to take his story from there, needed him out of the way, and thought it would be funny. It was insulting.

• Jack should’ve been played by an actual child so everyone’s abuse of him would resonate with the audience for what it was (casual fans are brain dead and need to be spoon fed).

• Victor Henrikson deserved more time on the show.

• I said it in the last post, but Alex is way more interesting than Claire and should’ve been given the lead role in the wayward sisters storyline instead.

• Dean is canonically straight and for Christ sake if you guys wanted bi rep, there’s about a thousand other characters that are strongly coded or implied to be bisexual (including Sam!) but y’all didn’t focus on them because it wasn’t actually about representation, it was about making it more plausible for your dumb fetishised gay ship to actually happen (spoiler: it didn’t).

• Season 3 and Season 6 were some of the best ones, you guys just don’t have any taste.

• Claire is not Castiel’s daughter and saying she is erases Jimmy and insults her, and even Cas himself acknowledged that on the show.

• Castiel is canonically NOT gay and Misha constantly saying he is is annoying and airheaded. He’s been attracted to women IN THE SHOW and he’s not even really male, so calling him a Gay Man is reductive and just plain wrong. Also, it’s veeery sus that- given how bi/pan folks are even more underrepresented than gay people- that one of the rare times where the bi/pan label actually fits a character BETTER in CANON……. the allies and monosexuals adamantly reject it. Hm.

• “Curing” vampires or werewolves or demons shouldn’t have been a thing.

• The Winchesters cause most of the bad shit that happens and then they just force supernatural beings to fix it for them- tell me again how they’re Super Special Heroes.

• It shouldn’t be possible to make angels human by removing their grace, because (unlike demons, werewolves, etc) they were never human to start with. If you drained me of all my blood, I wouldn’t magically transform into another species, I’d fucking die.

• Making Billie go crazy was dumb.

• Rowena was one of the most interesting and charismatic characters on the whole show- they just didn’t know what to do with her character.

• The archangels, Lilith, and Azazel should’ve been the biggest threats on the show. No other knights of hell, no god and his sister, no Cain, nothing like that. Having every villain just get progressively more overpowered made the show unbelievable and repetitive and annoying.

• The kernel sanders king of hell guy was hot.

• Dean is misogynistic as HELL, homophobic, likes racist porn, is a narcissist, pervs on teen girls, & thinks all non-human people should be exterminated… and that is all CANON.

• Most of John Winchester’s abuse is fanon.

• Fans portraying Cas as a smol bby who colours in colouring books and has a bee plushie is so fucking annoying.

• Instead of having so many gigantic cosmic storylines with god and his sister and alternate dimensions and even the angel and demon tablets, they should’ve just scrapped those and made the stein family and the bmol and the alpha vampire storylines way bigger than they were. Less cosmic stuff, more earth-based stuff.

• They ruined Lucifer’s character post-season 5. Before that, he was more sympathetic and reasonable than Michael. After, he was a spoiled child hurting people for fun.

• Everything from season 7 on is garbage. All of it. There’s bits of goodness here and there but overall seasons 7-15 are trash.

• How the fuck are there actual people who are deangirls and hate Sam?? The space where your brain should be is empty, I swear to god.

• If there was gonna be any lgbt rep in the Wayward Sisters group, it should’ve been Jody and Donna instead of Claire and Kaia. Those two were boring as hell and had zero chemistry or build-up, but Jody/Donna had plenty of chemistry and was very believable.

• Meg has the best and most realistic redemption arc of anyone on the show.

• Chuck was not likeable or charismatic enough to carry off as big of a villain arc as they gave him. Also that whole thing was stupid and WAY too Out There.

• All the angels should’ve been aroace. All the demons should’ve been pan.

• I stanned Cole so hard up until he changed his mind about hating Dean. That was disappointing.

• Sam went through the same shitty childhood Dean did (plus Bonus Abuse on top of it) and he didn’t turn out Like That.

• I cannot think of a single person that was asking for a spin-off about the Winchester family, like that has to be the most boring thing.

#unpopular opinion #unpopular supernatural opinions #spn unpopular opinions #spn #supernatural #anti dean winchester #Dean winchester critical #dean critical #supernatural wank #fandom wank #castiel #sam winchester #anti destiel #anti destihellers #Misha Collins criticism

[420technoblazeit]

#supernatural #spn #idk what else to tag this there's a lot. everyone should rb it for data purposes htough #the pig squeals

[jjs-other-other-blog]

It's insane how much supernatural's tptb hated Castiel. At some point during season 6 they must've realised "wait a second, a lot of the fans are starting to get really attached to the side characters instead of focusing on the brothers".

And it kinda makes sense, season 6 was a bit of a mess what with Dean trying to keep his thing with Lisa going, Sam being soulless, the Campbell's running around, civil war in heaven, the Alphas, the mother of all monsters being a thing, Cas plotting with Crowley, ... There was a lot going on, Kripke had just left the show and they were trying to find their footing after finishing the big heaven vs hell - Lucifer vs Michael - apocalypse arc.

So in preparation for season 7 they apparently decided to make some changes. Cas gets a quick moment of redemption and is then promptly killed off, Crowley only really appears in 5 episodes that season, Bobby gets killed off as well. They end up bringing Cas back of course, but he's only in a handful of episode in season 7 while in any other season after his original introduction to the show he appears in well over 10 episodes.

After that they start making Cas "smaller" in other ways. In season 6 he was already seperated from the Winchesters and made an antagonist of theirs, but he was still very present and plenty powerful. He was on the wrong track, not quite unlike Sam wanting to use demon blood for the right reasons, but still a powerful angel. Everything afterwards though seems to be a thinly veiled "Sam and Dean are the main characters here and stronger and more important than Cas" message.

[In season 7 he loses his memory, then his mind. In season 8 he gets brainwashed and tricked by Metatron (which makes him appear slightly naive and gullible, easy to manipulate, even though his core character trait as shown in seasons 4&5 is the exact opposite - he has doubts, he questions his orders and has his own, strong moral compass). In season 9 he loses all his powers, hits a new low, becomes human, defenseless, vulnerable, even dies because of it. Season 10 has him struggling with his powers again, his stolen grace slowly fading and even after getting back his own grace he's not back to full angel power. In season 11 he gets tricked and used as a weapon again first by Rowena then by Lucifer. Season 12 is pretty similar to 6, we see more badass Cas following his own agenda (even if the Winchesters disagree with him), but he's still not back to full power. The last three seasons I didn't watch personally, but as far as I'm aware they're more about interpersonal drama, he still seems to make a bunch of mistakes in the eyes of Sam and Dean, he never gets his full powers back.]

In short: He's constantly presented as this guy who's generally trying to help and who used to be strong, too, but now he's physically, mentally and emotionally fragile and often additionally untrustworthy, he needs to be saved from himself before he makes another stupid mistake.

And even inbetween the big plot points he's constantly overpowered in fights where even Sam or Dean come out on top - even though Cas is a seasoned warrior, a military expert and excellent fighter with at least some super strength left. There's no logical explanation for that.

Now lucky for us, us Cas fans we don't automatically assume the Winchesters are right and Cas is at fault for everything that happens, a lot of us are in fact rather critical of Sam and Dean. Also a lot of the above mentioned plots were actually super interesting. Cas becoming human for example was intense. Tptb also miscalculated big time: Making Cas less badass and powerful never made us love him any less. The pattern however remains.

#supernatural #spn #castiel #destiel #long post

[akkivee]

okay. okay!!!! so!!!!!

hitoya likely owns the ‘supernatural car’

supernatural is the founding fandom of the omegaverse and hitoya has called himself an alpha

hitoya is big on classic rock and the bros in that show are always blasting oldies

dean, the owner of the impala, likes whiskey

the show’s about two bros ghostbusting and fighting demons and hitoya has canonically done that thru kuukou

dean’s most popular ship is with an angel and hitoya’s most popular ship is with an angel adjacent man

like i’m just saying man hitoya and dean might be the same per—

#this is vee speaking #that’s a cursed statement i’m sorry LOL #but i never would have expected to see hitoya and supernatural in the same context JDJDJDJD💀 #my mom enjoyed supernatural when it was airing so anything i know about the show itself is from her #and fandom stuff ik is from the era when tumblr wasn’t a platform on the decline lol #so this is quite literally all i know don’t @ me about supernatural LOL #i remember for kuukou’s bday a few years back bat’s hypnosis wave radio happened to fall on that day #and the following staff report commented that hitoya looked a little tired from driving to the tokyo radio station from nagoya #hitoya loves road trips and domestic tourism but if arb and the nagosaka➕ manga epilogue are anything to go by #kuukou and jyushi must be obnoxious road trip buddies LOL

[holylulusworld]

One autumn night - Flufftober 10

Summary: Dean and you make a home together.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Rating: Teen

Square 25 filled for @warmandfluffybingocards: Carry you to bed

Square 2 filled for @jacklesversebingo: Bubbles

Warnings: a/b/o, fluff

Trope: a/b/o

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

A few months ago, …

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now, …

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re insatiable.”

“I’m irresistible.” 

“That you are.” 

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

You sigh but slowly get out of the bathtub.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That’s perfect.” You sigh happily.

“That it is, sweetheart. That it is…”

Tags in reblog.

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