#tw x spn

[rocksaltandmountainash]

Waking up in Beacon Hills - pt. 25

* Summary: The Nogitsune is gone. But so is Allison. Even away from Beacon Hills, Kara can't move forward. Set after Teen Wolf season 3, episode 24.

* Previous parts: can be found here.

* Warnings: grief after a major character death, swearing, drinking, violence.

* Gifs: not mine, credit to the owners/creators linked here:  One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven

* Word count: 3.9k

When you get anxious, you talk too much. Your mouth runs ahead of your brain, and you babble on and on towards a point, but more often, not. You think it’s your worst habit and envy people whose sentences are clear, people who can keep their shit together. People like Derek Hale.

“Thought you might need these.”

Derek hands you the bag you’d left at his place and a large coffee and sits in the sunny courtyard of the Argent’s apartment building with you, doesn’t ask stupid questions. 

The Nogitsune is dead, or at least gone. You should all be celebrating. Would have liked to share a drink with Derek, maybe a meal. You can’t. 

Derek clears his throat.

“I’m so-”

He decides against telling you he’s sorry, decides he’ll ask his questions another time.

“It’s important to take the full course.” he pushes the antibiotics towards you, then leaves.

*****

“Should eat something,” you say to dead air.

Chris and Isaac both nod absentmindedly.

You open the app for the pizza joint, input the usual order. 

One with all the toppings for Isaac, two if he hadn’t been around for breakfast, or you didn’t hear them poking through the pantry for snacks. One sausage & mushroom, extra mushrooms on half, for her. 

But figuring out the portions feels like quantum math - it doesn’t work for three. You get burgers delivered instead. 

Chris watches Isaac chewing fries like they’re cardboard and tells him about his plans.

Asks gently, “Would you want to come with me?”

When you get sad, you go silent, inward. Lock yourself up and speak only when spoken to, sometimes not.

It’s quiet now. You move around the apartment with barely a sound, check on Isaac - passed out and snoring softly in her room, brush your teeth, splash water on your face. Go to Chris. Slip into his bed, pull him toward you, close your eyes and rub his back while he cries before you both fall into fits of sleep.

But your mind is so loud. Crammed full of thoughts you do your best to push away. This isn’t what you had meant, what you hoped for, when you’d been wishing to wake up in his bed.

Not now.

There are practicalities to deal with, a list of things to check off. Paperwork to be collected from the Medical Examiner, delivered to the bank and the school. Attached to an online form and sent to the private aviation company that will take her to France. Calls to make. You go through all the motions. You try to help.

*****

“Should I go?” Isaac is watching you closely.

You tell him. Some. Enough. About what happened to you, how you never once told, kept your mother’s secret. Later, when it all came out anyway, you couldn’t look people in the eye, always wondering, do they know? Did they know then? How you’d gotten sick of the gossip at school, the furtive looks across supermarket aisles. Tell him how you eventually left, how you’ve never gone back. 

“Maybe it will help? Some distance?”

How are you so good at this? Argent wonders, days later, when you come to bed, update him on the progress of all the different plates you’re spinning. Taking care of things, only burdening him with small bits at a time, drip feeding him information he can manage. Shielding him from the world outside the front door.

“So, Stilinski called. The coroner is done.”

No. Not how. He is familiar with the mechanics of how people survive when they have to. When loss leaves it as your only option.

“Why are you so good at this?”

You look at him blankly.

“At what?”

“All this…” he gestures to the evidence. The bed you had made neat this morning, the water you’ve left on his nightstand, next to the bottle of Advil and a now half-eaten sandwich, the papers you’re holding that he needs to sign.

“I don’t know.”

Don’t tell him it’s because of him, that you’ve mentally decided only one of you can break at a time. After that first night, you curled into yourself. It’s not your turn.

“Argent, when do you want to leave? I need to book the flights.”

*****

A late night trip with Isaac to Walmart for photos. Affidavits written and applications for guardianship stamped, and a rush order on a passport.

Not yet. 

Stiles and Scott text you and Isaac comes in to show you, too. They’re all going to the woods to hang out, to say goodbye to her. 

You reply, tell them you’ll drop Isaac off.

Making sure they’re fed, helping them pack their bags, watching stupid TV but not laughing along like you used to. 

No one sits in her spot.

*****

Not in front of him.

Gather up the piles and go down to the laundry room with Chris. Half way through sorting, you look up, see his frozen, bloodshot eyes staring at the t-shirt Isaac had been wearing. Slashed and stained red brown.

You take it from his hands, stuff it in the trash, tie the strings and take the bag to the dumpster. 

Back to Walmart, the boy doesn’t have enough clothes. 

*****

The three of you don’t stray too far from each other, make sure you’re always aware of where the others are. Chris is coping. Cries, but only at night, so Isaac won’t hear. It seems to happen less and less. You think it’s a good thing, as you leave to run errands.

It isn’t.

You take Isaac to the Preserve to meet the others, remind him to text if Scott or Stiles can’t give him a lift back. 

When you arrive home, Chris appears agitated and is frantically searching through the office.

“What are you doing?”

He walks straight by, like you don’t exist. Unseeing, unhearing, into the bedroom and upends your duffel onto the covers.

“Hey!”

“Where is it?”

“Where’s what?”

He rounds on you, grabs your elbows and backs you up against the dresser. You see now that he’s been searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle.

“You said the Winchesters... They’ve brought people back.”

He steps closer, crowding you, his breath sour sweet from whiskey, his fingers digging into your flesh. You stare past him with your insides flipping,

He’s scaring you. 

“It’s not in any book.”

He grunts, scanning your face for lies. Your entire entire nervous system kicks into high gear - fight or flight - and you wait for it, the slap or the punch you think is coming. 

“I wouldn’t tell you how, even if I knew.” you lift your chin defiantly. Even with your heartbeat thumping like an earthquake your brain works - calculating that he’s drunk and if needed, you could take him.

“Please.” His anger evaporates into tears.

He looks down, frowning when he sees his own hands tight around your arms. Releases his vice like grip and drops onto the bed.

“No, Chris.”

“I need it.”

“You wanna make a deal? Bring her back, make her live without you? Huh? You’d make her carry that?”

He hangs his head, collapsing under the weight of it.

“I can’t do this.”

“I know,” you exhale, let him reach his hands out, pull you to him, press his head against your stomach, “but you have to.”

You wait till his breathing evens out, but your guard is up when you tell him to go have a shower. Isaac’s dad was a drunken asshole. You won’t let that around him. 

*****

Sneak up to the rooftop with a pack of cigarettes. Smoke too many to calm yourself and pray again to Samandriel. Think you did it wrong. He doesn’t come.

Isaac texts to say he’s spending the night at Scott’s.

*****

The apartment is empty when Chris finishes in the bathroom, scrubbed clean and freshly shaved. He expects you’ve gone and knows he deserves it.

So it’s hopeful, disbelieving eyes that track your return to scoop your things back into your bag. He braces for your departure, but you drop the duffel on the floor and crawl into bed. He’s scared to move, scared you’ll leave. Barely breathing.

“Don’t…don’t ever put your hands on me like that again.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t.”

You scratch through his still damp hair and he moves closer.

“Never.”

“Promise.”

In the morning, while you’re making breakfast, Chris drains the bottles down the sink.

You visit Stiles, watch as he dismantles his crime board, and agree it’s a very good idea when he says he wants to clear his head. 

Let him talk it all out, the Nogitsune, the memories, how close he’d been to letting the illusion take over. 

Hold his hand and take a nap together until the Sheriff nudges you awake. Try not to kick Stiles in the face as you get up to join Noah for a drink. Promise him you’ll stay in touch, and mostly mean it.

*****

Text Stiles, text Scott, text the Sheriff, text Derek. Say goodbye.

Take Isaac and Chris to the airport, get their luggage out of the back seat and slip Isaac a preloaded visa. Remind him, if distance doesn’t work, he can always come home. Hug him tight.

“Are you sure you can’t come with us?”

“Sorry, I can’t.”

“She’s got work to do.” Chris says, you’ve let him think you have a plan. 

He hugs you too, kisses you. You miss them before they’re through security.

Just a little longer.

Drive for 5 hours ‘till it feels like far enough, until your thigh feels like it’s on fire. 

Find the shittiest motel you can and pay less than you were expecting for a week.

Lock the door and climb into bed. Lay down into your pain.

Now.

You crack. It’s your turn.

Allison.

*****

The parking lot of the Truckee Olympic Park Motel 6 has been your view for the last seven days. 

Chris and Isaac are in France, all traces of jet lag probably long gone.

You get all of your meals from the diner next to the motel, leaving only long enough for the maids to service the room. Scurry back to your door, to squirrel away and eat with the curtains drawn. 

Or across to the gas station on the other side of the street, middle of the night, to buy cups of gritty coffee that’s only marginally better than what you could brew from the foil packets in the safety of your room, if only you had the energy.

You avoid the curious glances from the other guests and staff and when the kind waitress begins to recognise you, calling your order out to the cook without you having to speak, you realize you need to leave.

But not yet. You’re waiting.

Crawl back into bed, clutching a small leather glove.

*****

Nothing is happening, and you are livid. 

What was the point?  Of all of it - hunters and Void spirits and werewolves and dark-haired girls who get run through by swords. 

Of any of it? If you couldn’t bring her here, manifest something. The jacket slung on the back of a chair moves slightly. You take it as a sign. Cave and call for help.

*****

N.W.A. streams from car speakers, and you race to the window to see Garth pulling up.

He greets you with his usual bear hug, but you cut the chit chat short, leaving him frowning.

“You brought it, right?”

“Yeah,” he produces an EMF meter from his pocket, “You should probably get one.”

“I know.”

You’re tetchy and impatient as Garth configures the machine and wanders around the room.

“So what’s the deal?”

He sweeps it over the bed, where Allison’s glove sits. 

“Think you’re being haunted?”

You peek over at the screen, pray the needle moves, will it to jump, just shift even a tiny bit. It doesn’t, and the fact brings a flood of tears.

“No,” you sob, “I’m not haunted.”

Garth guides you to sit at the rickety table, hands you a fistful of napkins he finds littered about and wraps an arm around your shoulders.

When your crying has slowed to hiccups and sniffs, he moves to sit across from you. Begins asking questions, trying to drag the truth out. You’re not meaning to be secretive, you just can’t make yourself say the words.

Garth speaks slowly, keeps his tone gentle and calm. You figure out why when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror, you’re a mess.

Had forgotten to shower. Your hair is somehow greasy and dry at the same time, sitting flat in lank strands. Usually, you collapse into bed without bothering to change, so your clothes have become creased. You think about it and realize they might be the same ones you arrived in. 

You haven’t seen proper sunlight in a while, and only manage to sleep for a handful of hours at a time, then read old messages from Allison until your phone’s light makes your eyes hurt. So you stare out with haggard eyes, rimmed with dark circles. 

He asks about cold spots.

“I’m not a case, Garth.” you snap, meaner than he deserves.

“Well…what then?”

“I’m...”

Waiting.

Grieving.

Running.

“…just having a bad day.”

*****

Garth leaves, after you’ve showered, and treated him to pancakes as an apology for dragging him all this way just to bitch him out. It still takes a lot of convincing.

You thank Carol, the waitress, leave a fifty under your plate and linger in your room a few more hours, till you know the office is closed and you can drop the keys in the box without conversation.

Gas up the car, head east.

*****

Life passes you by in a series of useless numbers. Counting how many miles to the next motel, the gap between getting a text from Stiles and replying, the time ticking on until you go to bed. 

Try to keep to a reasonable schedule so you don’t feel so lost. Fake a smile at people you encounter and mask yourself with politeness. 

You know how to do this, to pretend. To be good. Like there’s someone watching, keeping score, who will decide you’re worthy of a break in the pain and the guilt and the shame. Some days you want to spit it all out onto strangers. It’s bullshit. It’s all you’ve got. So you just stay quiet.

Somewhere after Salt Lake, but before Omaha, you’ve stopped crying, given up your begging. You feel nothing, but it doesn’t scare you. Nice to be empty. Too easy to sink into it, the familiar way of shrinking yourself. Raise no red flags, pique no one’s interest. Move around undetected, untethered.

*****

You think it’s days later, but it’s been weeks. Garth calls, asks if you will lend a hunter a hand in a town just outside of Minneapolis. Check the map, zoom in on the roads you’ll take and calculate. 

“I’ll be there by 9.”

It’s a nothing job, one wraith against four people. Just something to do, split up the days. 

You shake their hands and decline their invitations of a drink. Jump back in your car and keep heading east, no destination in mind.

*****

Arrive in Illinois and remember, you’d always wanted to visit the places Mohammed Ali had lived and trained. You don’t manage it. 

Lay on a lumpy mattress in another musty motel and let your thoughts swirl. All time ever does is pass, and all you can do is think. Puzzle over your memories to find the turning point, as if it matters, as if you can go back. 

*****

Maybe it was your 16th birthday, when it all went wrong?

Vibrating with excitement all day at school, laughing with your friends, thanking them for the cards they’d made you. Bashful inquiries to the boys, checking they’re coming to the party on Saturday. And Luke? He’s still coming? 

Walking home in the rain, bundled up and glad to enter the house where the fire is on. Mum is in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on your cake. There’s a family dinner planned, just the three of you, like always.

But Lily doesn’t show. No phone call, no answer on her landline. So you wait, and wait. She has to catch a train from the city and then a bus over the hill, after all. 

You check the website for train cancellations while Mum is ringing Lily's flat over and over. They haven’t seen her. She’s most likely on the way. Calling her friends from high school, maybe she got distracted, waylaid at the station. 

Finally, Mum dials 111 with shaking hands and a mouth full of apologies. She’s sure it’s all a misunderstanding, but you never know. Right? Better safe than sorry. 

You didn’t ever really feel safe again after that.

*****

No, not then. Surely, it was later, when you’ve put it behind you (mostly), don’t flinch as much at her name or loud noises.

Years spent building a life for yourself where you’re no longer defined by the loss of your sister, not stained with everything that happened after. Your boss calls you into her office and tells you there is a Police Officer in the lobby who needs to speak with you, and couldn’t get in touch any other way. 

A face you pinpoint from your hometown, plumb your memory for his name and feel the hope rising.

“Sergeant Nelson? Did you find her?”

“No, sorry. I’m not here about Lily.”

“Oh.”

You take him to the break room, make tea and let him speak. Hear him say your Mum is sick, explains how she asked him to track you down. 

He keeps in touch with the families of the cold cases. Any other time, any other person, you’d think he was kind. 

“I don’t want to see her.” 

Feel all your protective layers coming off you, pulling you backwards to that ashamed, defenseless little girl sitting in a police station begging them to leave you alone. You don’t want to lay charges, they’re just making it worse. Nelson, the other officers, and the social worker all tell you it’s not up to you.  

“I understand,” he nods. “Only said I’d try.” 

Try to bring at least one of her daughters home; a small favor for a dying woman. 

*****

Not even that had done it, all the mess she’d left you to deal with. Knotted up on the inside with strings of missing her and hating her. The burden of funeral arrangements, and lawyers, and coroner’s reports. You accept your boss’s offer of a week of bereavement leave, though you tell her you’d only need a few days, so optimistic. 

But you barely made it halfway up the driveway before your breath turned to dust in your lungs. You grabbed your best friend’s arm.

“Can’t do it. Reuben, I can’t go in there.”

“All good.” 

He’s not thrown by the hysteria on your face, takes you back to your flat where you eat mince and cheese pies for dinner and he texts his girlfriend, Priya, to join you after work. 

She brings wine, and you both get buzzed while she helps you make a list. They take over, and you love them for it.

They sort everything - send emails, make calls, arrange between them who will accompany you to all the appointments, and by the end of the week it’s like your mother’s death had never ripped through your life.

The house is paid off, you could sell it if you wanted, the solicitor advises, but you direct him to keep it. Divide the inheritance in thirds, one for you, one in an account for maintaining the property and the last in a trust. 

Just in case. For Lily, if she ever comes back. Illogical, the lawyer thinks but draws up the papers, regardless.

Reuben calls some of his boys, quickly finds someone who will do the lawns and occasionally check the gutters for cheap, says it’s just until you decide what you’ll do with the place. 

They empty the fridge, collect the mail, leave the urn on the sideboard and lock the doors after them. 

You go to a party on the beach, sit with your back to the wind and try to forget about it all. Forget about her. Push aside the memories of her sneering face, spitting cruel words that hurt you more than her fists, and keep a taut grip on all your broken pieces.

On a quiet Friday night weeks later, you eyeball the stack of mail from your Mum’s. Sitting on your desk where it’s been since Reuben brought it over. 

Glance at it every day, think “Gotta sort that”, as you rush off to work or the gym.

Might as well get it over with. Reuben and Priya are having a date night, and it’s too cold to go to the pub. 

You watch crime documentaries as you tear at the letters. Trashing the junk and putting aside anything related to the house or the estate to send onto the lawyers. You find a handwritten envelope addressed to you in the pile and frown at the cursive writing you don’t recognise. Skim the first paragraph with one eye still on your show. Then pause the TV to re-read the first page more closely. Flip the pages and think the paper should be heavier, or scented, gold edged, for the news it contains. You pick up a tiny slip of paper that falls out from the sheets. 

*****

That might have been it. The moment that your life pivoted from being kind of sad but relatively normal to whatever it is now. An impulsive choice to grab your laptop and research how to get to Sioux Falls. Note how you’ll need to fly from Wellington to Auckland, cross to the International terminal and board a plane bound for Houston. Catch another flight from there to Bismarck, connecting through Dallas. Places you know nothing about. Then you’ll need a car. 

It seems possible, do-able. Stupid, but achievable. A plan to latch onto. You could resign from work, and get paid out six years’ worth of unused annual leave. Could tell them you’re off on your OE, a well-deserved holiday. The owners of your place want to sell the building anyway, something about land values and townhouses.

Money won’t be a problem, you think, looking at the eye-watering cost of flights, there’s the barely touched savings stashed away in sensible term deposits and stocks. There’s your portion of the inheritance.

You have a passport - had to get it as a form of ID so you could get your security clearance at work. But it has no stamps - you’ve been nowhere. Never really done anything. You could. Other people do it, travel, explore. Nothing here for you any longer, nothing to stop you, keep you in this town, no family left. 

Dig out your credit card while you consider it and hedge your bets. Decide that even if you don’t get to South Dakota, you can still cross some things off your bucket list. 

It took less than half an hour to book everything. Insane, really, that just a handful of keystrokes changed the entire momentum of your life.

#chris argent fanfic #spn x tw #tw x spn #chris argent x oc #teen wolf #supernatural

[hiyaluronic]

Found an old thumb drive while I was spring cleaning. Found this 8 year old gem under the file name bullshit au timeline for tw/spn crossover. Kind of wished I kept working on it because I’m a sucker for a good Stiles is a Winchester story. Sadly, i have moved on from both fandoms and doubt I’ll ever do anything with this.

1962 - Dean Winchester is born.

1966 - Sam Winchester is born in May, Mary dies November 2.

1988 - Derek Hale is born. Season 1 of Supernatural happens.

1993 -  Season 5 of SPN happens. Sam jumps into the pit but instead of going to Lisa and Ben's he heads to California. Dean (31) travels around, sleeps around, and just plain passes the time hoping his life will end. He ends up at Beacon Hills and comes across 28 year old Claudia Stilinski, introducing himself as John Samuels.

1994 - Dean and Claudia are married early in the year, Dean takes Caludia’s family name, Stiles is born. Jacksons parents die in a car crash.

2000 - Scott and Stiles meet in Kindergarten. Melissa McCall tells her husband to get out after one particular incident with Scott at her house.

2003 - Derek's 15th birthday. Claudia starts showing signs of Frontotemporal Dementia. Gerard and Chris kill one of Ennis's wolves. Dean is still a deputy when he encounter's Ennis at the hospital. Peter arranges for Ennis to bite Paige. Derek mercy kills Paige. Dean is elected as Sherriff. The Tates die in a car crash, Malia's body is never found.

2004 - Claudia is hospitalized for her Frontotemporal Dementia. Dean heads off to a crossroads in hopes of making a deal with a demon, but no demons deal because of Dean helping put Luci back in The Cage. By the time he makes it back to the hospital Claudia has passed. Stiles refuses to speak for the next 6 months. Meanwhile, Kali doesn't quiet kill Julia and she gets power from the Nemeton.

2005 - The Argents move to Beacon Hills, giving Dean some concern. He takes Stiles over for a play date with Allison. Dean leaves while informing the Argents that Good People live in this town and he’d hate to see anything happen that would draw the ire of the community.  Chris agrees. Months later the Hale fire happens. Dean goes to investigate but Argents, finds nothing but an empty apartment. 

2011 - Dean is 49. Seasons 1 -3b of Teen Wolf happen this year. Dean begins to suspect something Supernatural might be going on in Beacon Hills after animal attacks become more common. Stiles tells his dad about the supernatural and learns that his dad is a hunter. Stiles refuses to speak to his father for a solid week - feeling betrayed and unsure how he feels knowing his dad was most likely the cause of deaths like the Hales.

     --After the Darach kidnaps Dean and Stiles subsequently rescues him, the two come to an understanding -  no more secrets. 

     --Christmas 2011 sees the return of Sam Winchester after a shifter attacks Dean and Stiles.  Stiles is confused as to what's going on. Dean sits his son down and introduces a still 27 year old Sam to his 17 year old son. 

2012 - First part of Season 6 happens, Sam gets resouled. Stiles heads to Mexico with the others to search for Derek. Dean deals with his comatose little brother.  Braeden leads them to La Iglesia. They find Derek and return to Beacon Hills leaving Derek with Deaton. Sam wakes. Derek opens the vault. The

#tw x spn #things left unfinished #my stuff

[alligatorpie1945]

Cringe is dead. Destiel for life.

#fanart #desitel #supernatural #dean winchester #castiel #dean x castiel #tw blood #Pinterest poses #spn fanart

[xofemeraldstars]

happy birthday @naughtystiel !! 🐙

#cursed28event #spncreatorsdaily #spndaily #spnedit #deanedit #cowboycoven #emeraldcas #chapeldean #deancaskiss #userda #da.tags #tusersana #altarofrowena #justcastiel #anztag #kedits #dean winchester #spn #dean x tentacles #flashing tw #ASDFGHGFDSASDF 😭😭 HAPPY BDAY!! hope you like this lmao 🐙

[magickastiel]

YOU WILL KNEEL

spn x dragon age quotes | godstiel & corypheus

#spn #spnedit #supernatural #castiel #godstiel #daedit #spn x da #tw flashing #HI IM BACK!!! #and i'm combining my two passions to create something that caters only to me

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

I was wondering if I can request a sam Winchester x fem reader smut and fluff, where maybe he's an alpha and he and Dean are out hunting or something and maybe they get ambushed but then are saved by omega reader, and Sam is head over heels for her from the beginning, but she is unsure cause of comments in her past saying that's she's weak or something and then maybe after a while he asks her out on a date and it goes well and they keep seeing each other and eventually smut

.⋆｡Something Happens And I’m Head Over Heels｡⋆.

Alpha!Sam Winchester x omega! plus size reader

When a mysterious hunter swoops in and saves the Winchesters at the last second, Sam falls in love at first sight but she’s been hurt by alphas like him before.

Warnings: smut, a/b/o, angst, monster death, canon typical violence, injuries, parental abuse/neglect (not just for the Winchesters), mention of parental death, consent checks, oral (m and f receiving), no penetration, confessions, sort of mutual pining, he falls HARD

WC: 6.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

The coppery smell of blood was now almost permanently etched into Sam’s mind. He had smelt blood straight from a wound and even blood that was weeks old but nothing had ever smelt like this before. The scent was so thick he could practically taste it. He gagged on the stale air silently, still cautious of how much noise he was making.

The walls of the abandoned warehouse were painted a rusty brown and when Sam looked closer, he immediately shut his eyes, trying to repress his nausea- it was dried blood, caked on so thick it looked like paint. His grip on the machete in his hands tightened until his knuckles were a deathly white.

Get in. Take out the vamps. Get out. He repeated to himself as he continued his journey into the heart of the nest.

From what he and Dean had predicted there were, at most, 6 vamps in the nest. And while normally that number would constitute calling in backup, Sam’s rut was only a few days away so he had the strength of three grown (and frustrated) men so they went in alone.

Sunlight leaked through the boarded up windows, providing the only illumination to guide his way. Vaguely, he could hear his brother’s footsteps from the other side of the otherwise silent building. Soon, the hall opened up before him, revealing a huge room absolutely full of bodies, both dead and undead.

His heart pounded in his ears as panic quickly overtook him. Their calculations were very very wrong- there were close to a dozen vampires littered around the room, each with at least three drained corpses around them. His hazel eyes went wide as he caught sight of Dean, only now entering the room on the other side.

He saw as Dean’s chest hitched, the situation dawning on him. They made eye contact and with an almost investable nod to each other, then slowly began to back out of the room. Even with Sam’s temporary strength, there was no possible way they could kill that many vamps safely.

His whole body was tense, both rearing for a fight and ready to run at a moment’s notice. 

Clang!

The pipe appeared from thin air, practically materialising before him just as Sam put his foot down. The metal spun away from him before he realised what was happening and slammed into the hollow siding of the hallway. 

Everything froze and Sam held his breath. “Looks like we got some fresh meat boys!” He cursed under his breath and spun around just quickly enough to see the vamps rising to their feet, eyes blazing with bloodlust.

The plastic handle of his machete suddenly seemed incredibly slippery as Sam readjusted his grip on the weapon. They couldn’t kill this many vamps at once and they certainly couldn’t outrun them but they definitely weren’t going down without a fight.

Debris crunched under his heel as Sam planted his feet, his pupils contracted to a pin drop and his chest rumbled with a deep growl. His scent turned sour with his fury. “Bring it.”

His blade whistled as it slashed through the air, easily biting into the neck of the first vamp. Its head separated cleanly but Sam’s follow through was too long and quickly, the second darted towards him, razor sharp teeth bared. 

With a snarl, he planted a hand on its chest and shoved the monster back, giving him just enough room to plant the blade into its shoulder. It howled in pain but continued to charge forward, yellowing fangs glinting in the low light.

Sam’s shoulder jerked as he pulled the blade back out but before he could complete a second swing, another vamp threw itself towards his legs, quickly knocking him off balance. Fear prickled across his skin as his back slammed into the metal wall. There was a crunch and then pain shot up his right shoulder.

He tried to curse but all that escaped him was a feral growl that echoed through the building. A bulk of the nest now crowded the hallway, each pushing and shoving, trying to get at the hunter. Fangs sliced into his calf as more hands grabbed at him, ripping the blade from his hold.

Just as his desperate struggle to get free seemed fruitless, light filled the hallway and the dark figure of a woman was silhouetted against the afternoon sun. The vamps barely had time to react to the burn of the light before her arm cocked back and she threw a pipe into the middle of the crowd.

As soon as the thick metal hit the dusty ground, it set off an explosion, sending thick almost black liquid all over them. It sunk into their flesh, spreading through them like molten lava. There was a moment where everything froze and then a sound erupted from the vamps.

They screamed in pain as they clawed at their skin. Suddenly Sam was free but it was not his blade that struck down the suffering vamps. 

She moved with more grace than he ever thought possible, her own machete almost dancing through the air as she effortlessly operated their heads from their bodies. Within seconds, the warehouse was silent once more, leaving behind only the smell of blood and the most delicious scent Sam had smelled in his life.

Without a word, the hunter wiped her blade clean with the shirt of one of the vamps and slid it back into the sheath strapped to her plump thigh. “You hurt?” But all he could focus on was the little smear of blood on her full cheek, oh how badly did he want to reach out and wipe it away with his thumb.

Her eyebrows scrunched and gave him a once over. “That’s a pretty gnarly bite you got there, can you walk?” She reached a tentative hand to him, quite obviously taking note of the husky scent of his rut, and it was all Sam could do not to snatch it up and press his nose to the pulse point on her wrist.

She easily helped him back to his feet, laying a steadying touch on his toned stomach when he began to sway. His heart flipped and the world shrunk to just her. “Sammy!”

Her head turned to look where his brother’s voice had come, exposing her scent gland to the alpha who couldn’t help but take in a deep breath, eager for another whiff of what he thought his heaven smelled like. Old books, campfire, home. 

“Sammy, huh?” She teased, the beginnings of a smile tugging at her lips. His knees buckled. Yet before he could come up with a semi-articulate response, Dean barrelled around the corner, eyes wide and full of fear.

The biting scent of adrenaline came off of him in waves and the mysterious woman immediately cringed, her nose scrunching. Anger flared in Sam’s belly, his alpha screamed at him to pull her away from whatever was causing her such discomfort, even if it was his brother.

As soon as Dean saw Sam, his body sagged with relief. “Shit that was a close one.” He groaned but quickly, his tone changed when he caught sight of the plump woman standing next to his brother. “I see you found a friend, a very attractive one. Dean Winchester, and that is my gigantor baby brother.”

He easily slid up to her, his green eyes hungrily tracing her soft curves before settling on her face. Sam knew that move, he had seen it hundreds of times before but it was only now that he had a problem with it. “Y/N. You boys should know better to take on a whole nest alone.” 

Dean actually looked sheepish at her scolding and Sam’s alpha preened. “Strong omega. Perfect mate.” He purred.

“Well, we thought there were less. How the fuck did you kill all of ‘em so quick?” He looked around at the bodies in amazement, giving the one closest to him a kick. The skin where his boot touched crumbled into ash.

“Pipe bomb filled with blessed dead man’s blood.” She replied like it was obvious.

“Blessed?” Sam croaked out. Y/N shivered at the sound of his voice but quickly suppressed it as she spoke again.

“Like how you would bless holy water.” Dean nodded in approval, the hand holding his machete going slack as he forced himself to relax with the danger gone. But Sam still felt incredibly wound up, especially as his brother approached her. 

“That was badass, for an omega that is.” Sam didn’t miss the way she flinched, however minute it was. 

“Yeah.” She smoothly took a step back from him, her body twisting beautifully as she moved towards the exit. Unconsciously, Sam began to follow. He needed to be close to her, to soothe the ache in his chest.

Dean gave a quizzical look to his brother but he was ignored as Sam limped behind her, his alpha slowly stealing control from him, rut now dangerously close. 

“So do you wanna go get a drink with us to celebrate, I think we owe you a round.” But she waved him off as she walked to her slightly busted up truck. He watched the way her hips swayed, the dark material of her jeans perfectly hugging her ass in a way that made Sam’s mouth go dry.

“Bars aren’t my thing. Maybe I’ll catch you another time. Try not to get yourselves killed.” Her machete is thrown into the passenger seat with far more force than necessary, making the hollow siding reverberate as she climbed in after it.

The engine roared to life, quickly breaking Sam from his trance. But before he could even take one step towards the truck, she was gone, leaving behind only echoes of her scent.

——————

She couldn’t stop thinking about that alpha no matter how hard she tried to forget him, even though it had been weeks since the unfortunate encounter. There was just something about the way his big hazel eyes had looked up at her as she saved his life or the sound of his voice. But most of all, his scent was almost seared into her mind, a delicious mixture of gunpowder, pine forest and chocolate.

Never in her life had she smelt something as good as that and it was slowly killing her. Alphas were dangerous, alpha hunters doubly so. They were violent and aggressive and more pigheaded than she ever thought possible, and they hated omegas.

Sure, they liked fucking them but they refused to claim them. Omegas were just rut bunnies, a tool to get off so they could go back to killing monsters. And an omega hunting? She had been laughed out of more hunter bars and backups than she could count. So it was best to just forget him, she didn’t think she could bear it if he was like the others, if he was like his brother.

Y/N swallowed thickly, her grip tightening on the steering wheel. Even his name was pretty, Sam like some guardian angel or an ancient warrior. He was strong and tall and packed with muscle. Her omega constantly reminded her of what a perfect mate he was, how he could provide for her and her pups, how safe he made her feel.

With every mile she drove away, her soul burned, urging her to turn the truck around and drive straight back to him. But her willpower was stronger… for now at least.

But until that day came, she would do what she did best- hunt.

——————

“C’mon Sammy, you’ve been sulking for weeks. She was just an omega!” Sam glared at his brother over top of his beer, the fifth of the night. He couldn’t just forget her, not when he had never met anyone like her before, not when the very thought of her made his heart clench and butterflies fill his stomach.

It had been easy to learn all about her from Bobby and Rufus. They both sung her praises, describing her as immensely intelligent and well versed in all sorts of lore as well as being cunning enough to escape a den of werewolves with only a screwdriver and a half-empty lighter. With every story they told and little fact they divulged, Sam fell even deeper in love with her.

She was an enigma of the best kind.

“You’re being an asshole Dean, what exactly does her presentation have to do with her value as a hunter?”

“Jesus Sammy.” Dean scoffed. “What crawled up your ass and died?” Sam rolled his eyes and stood from the old booth.

“I’m going back to the motel, text me if you aren’t coming back tonight.” He walked out of the bar before he could hear Dean’s protests.

The biting winter air calmed his anger some but that simmering disappointment in his brother was still there. Y/N was not just an omega yet for some fucking reason, no one else agreed. It made his blood boil.

Stuffing his hands into his jacket, Sam began the short walk back to the motel. A part of him wondered if Dean was right, they had only met once and it was for barely ten minutes before she was off again. But so much more of him wondered why she was gone, why they had never seen her before or even heard of her. She was a great hunter so why did no one call her for backup.

With his head down and lost in his thoughts, the tall hunter didn’t notice the familiar truck parked in the spot by his shared room until he almost walked right into it. 

The tip of his boots stopped right before the back tire as he gazed at the vehicle in amazement. She was here. His eyes darted along the row of rooms, searching for any indication of where she might be. His pulse sped up as he finally caught a whiff of her dizzying scent. 

His heart jumped as he realised that it was coming from the room right next to his, a coincidence that he would be eternally grateful for. Warmth bloomed from his chest as he cautiously raised his hand and knocked on the ancient looking door.

There was a shuffling from the other side and then slowly, the door creaked open. Sam groaned softly as a fresh wave of her scent washed over him. It was raw and overpowering and immediately went to his cock. 

Her eyes were bleary with exhaustion as she looked at the alpha on her doorstep. “Sam?” His chest rumbled with a pleased sound at the way she said his name. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m in the room next door.” His eyes wandered down the length of her curvy body which was now only covered by an oversized shirt and some fluffy socks. One of her hands nervously tugged on the hem of the shirt in an attempt to cover more of her naked thighs.

She shuffled her feet nervously as if contemplating something before she stepped to the side. “You can come in if you want.” 

There was not an ounce of hesitation in Sam’s mind as he stepped into her room. His chest puffed out in pride at being allowed to enter the omega’s space. She followed behind him after locking the door but still kept her distance. She was obviously wary of him and for the life of him, Sam couldn’t understand why.

An awkward silence settled over the pair, neither one of them knowing how to begin the conversation. She avoided making eye contact as the slightly older hunter forced himself to stop looking at her thick thighs. 

“Why-“ “I-“ They both spoke at the same time. Y/N laughed softly under her breath and Sam watched as she finally relaxed, taking a seat at the edge of her bed. His own smile began to grow and took the liberty of sitting opposite her on the arm of the couch.

The room was so small that their knees were barely inches away from each other but neither wanted to move any further away. “Bobby said you had asked about me.” She said bluntly if not a little bashfully. A blush spread across Sam’s face and suddenly he felt incredibly small.

“Yeah I did.” He admitted. “I was curious about you.”

She tilted her head in confusion. “Why?”

Taking a deep breath, he rested his elbows onto his knees, making himself as small as he could. “You just… captured me, I’ve never met a hunter like you before and I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to know more.” She sat straight up as her eyes narrowed.

“You wanted to know how an omega could hunt.” She snarled. 

“No! No, you being an omega has nothing to do with it. I asked Bobby because well, I couldn’t believe how clever you were. I mean come on, blessed blood? I don’t think anyone else has come up with that idea. You took out that whole nest by yourself!” He rushed to defend himself. He laid a large palm onto her knee as if that could drive his point home but all it really did was make his mind go blank except for the thought of just how soft her skin was.

Sam expected her to lurch from his touch but to his surprise, Y/N nudged her knee even closer to him, albeit slightly warily. “It wasn’t the whole nest.” She muttered shyly with her head tilted downwards, exposing her collar. Sam’s alpha grumbled happily at the submission but he swallowed the noise down, not wanting to make her uncomfortable.

“Even if it wasn’t, we- I would have been dead without you and that’s why I wanted to find you, to learn about you because I wanted to thank you and maybe, get to know you a bit more.” The expression on her face grew more pensive as she looked into his eyes.

“You don’t care that I’m an omega?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I don’t care about that, but that part has nothing to do with you hunting.” His fingers curled into her flesh, sending a fresh wave of her scent through the room. “You being an omega is far from a detriment in my eyes.” His voice dropped lower, becoming husky and laced with arousal. 

Her thighs squeezed together, trapping his hand between her warm legs. Sam leaned forward even more, their foreheads almost touching. He watched as her gaze flicked to his lips. “You can’t mean that.” She whispered but it was directed at herself, as if she were trying to remind herself of something.

With his free hand, the alpha gently brushed his fingertips along her jaw before his palm settled against the soft swell of her cheek. “You’ll be like all the other alphas out there.” But still, she leaned closer, resting her forehead against his. 

“I promise I’m not.” Her fingers tentatively worked their way into the buttons of his flannel and Sam’s heart skipped a beat. The silence that fell between them now was far from uncomfortable. Y/N took in a deep breath, swallowing down the alpha’s scent before she groaned quietly.

“You wouldn’t stop an omega from hunting?” Sam shook his head. “You wouldn’t force them to be subservient?” 

“Never.” He vowed as his lips brushed against her cupid’s bow. Her chest hitched.

“What about claiming?” Sam’s hand skirted higher up her legs until the calloused tips of his fingers disappeared beneath her night shirt. Heat radiated from her core as slick soaked through her thin panties.

Sam was almost delirious with lust and apparently, Y/N was the same. Her pupils were blown wide, the blackness consuming the natural colour of her irises. “Hypothetically?” She nodded, knowing that this conversation was veering into far from hypothetical. “Only when they’re ready, and I will be fine if they never are.”

She smiled widely and just as she leaned forwards to kiss him, there came a pounding on the door. “Sam!! You in there?!” At the sound of Dean’s voice, she threw herself back as if she were a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

Sam actually whined as his hands were ripped from her skin. “Yeah Dean.” He growled, quickly standing and shielding her half-naked body through the door was still firmly shut.

“Sheriffs just found another body, we gotta move.” Y/N sat up on the bed, her interest now focused on the case.

“Was it the pawn shop owner’s wife?” She piped up.

There was a pause and then, “Y/N? Damn Sammy, you need an extra 10 minutes? Cause we definitely have time if you do.”

“Dean.” Sam warned, but the omega’s soft touch upon his hand stopped him in his tracks. 

Y/N’s eyes blazed with a fire he had never seen before as she lifted herself from the now crumpled bed sheets. Her gaze was hard and firmly set upon the door as if she could see right through it to the idiotic alpha outside. Sam watched as the omega melted away and was replaced by the hardened hunter.

“Go. I’ll catch up with you two later. I have something to take care of.” Sam’s heart dropped to his stomach and he opened his mouth to protest, to insist that she come with them. Not because he thought she needed any sort of protection but that he didn’t think he could bear to be away from her for even a second. But then her glare settled on him.

He tried to turn his wrist to capture her hand in his but she pulled back from him quickly. “You should stay here, where you’re safe.”

He would never admit to it, but Sam cowered, shrinking in upon himself as Y/N’s lip turned downwards. “Go.” She snarled and before he could even comprehend what her sudden change in demeanour meant, Sam was out the door and his alpha howled with shame.

She rejected him and he had no clue how to fix it.

——————

Somehow, through the incredibly awkward tension and the less-than-perfect hunt, all three of the young hunters now found themselves in Bobby’s living room, a heavy air between them.

Y/N nursed a beer and a slightly swollen cheek as well as the angriest look on her face. Even Dean cringed away from her line of sight like a little boy escaping a scolding. “Any of you wanna tell me exactly what happened out there?”

Bobby shoved an ice pack into her awaiting hand before leaning against the desk at the far end of the room. “Just bone-headed alphas getting in my way.” She snarled and took a pull of her drink, her scent now bitter like stale coffee. 

“Y/N, now’s not the time.” Bobby sighed, his head dropping between his shoulders. The omega turned her glare to him but he did not falter away like the boys did. “Hunts are always gonna be tough but you gotta work with the cards you’re dealt with and trust your partners. And these boys are the best you could ask for, alphas or not.”

Her growl echoed through the room before she slammed her beer down and stormed off. A bedroom door slammed shut soon after, rocking the foundations of the house. “That girl.” Bobby muttered, shaking his head mournfully.

Sam looked up the stairs longingly, part of him wanting to follow after her but also knowing that doing so might only worsen the already rocky relationship between them.

“What is her deal anyway?” Dean sat forward on the couch, planting his elbows onto his knees. Bobby’s hand curled around his tumbler of whisky, knuckles turning pale.

“You boys weren’t the only ones to grow up under the thumb of an obsessed hunter but the only difference between you is, she had both parents. Both alphas, both life-long hunters, and both believed that omegas were beneath them in every way. She was bait.”

Sam and Dean sucked in a breath, they both knew what that meant. Omegas would be stripped of all weapons or protective symbols and then sent into bars that vampires frequented or told to go for a walk in the woods where werewolf dens were. Their scent was the sweetest and the most appetising. Most of the time, the omega would make it out with minimal injuries but there were some hunters out there who would let whatever monster they were tracking down have a little treat before killing them.

“She got smart, learned how to gank monsters using whatever she could find and yet her parents took all the credit. They got lazy, letting her do the hunt while they went to go drink or do whatever the fuck else besides trying to protect their daughter. And one day, when she was recovering from a witch’s curse, they decided to get the hunt done themselves. They were slow and stupid. Y/N found them two days later, completely ripped apart. She’s been hunting alone ever since.”

“Shit.” Dean leaned back on the couch, running a hand through his cropped hair. “I figured she was just bitter about an ex or something. I- Sam!” The youngest Winchester sprang to his feet and before anyone could stop him, he pounded up the stairs and threw open her bedroom door.

Y/N sat against the headboard, eyes squeezed shut and chest heaving with barely controlled panic. Sam didn’t hesitate to yank her into his arms, forcing her face into the crook of his neck as he held her tightly. She thrashed against him, her warning snarls only ceasing when she finally inhaled his scent.

Tentatively, she placed her hands on his muscular back as Sam’s arms tightened around her shoulders, his head resting on top of her own. “You don’t need to worry anymore, omega. I’m right here.” Sam pressed his lips to the crown of her head, giving her a gentle kiss. “No one will ever hurt you again, not while I’m around.”

Her soft body slowly relaxed into him and the alpha could feel the weight being eased from her shoulders. “You can’t know that, it’s an impossible promise to make.”

Sam’s left hand slid up the soft curve of her arm, his fingertips gently brushing along her neck before settling on her jaw. He tilted her head up just enough so that she could meet his hazel eyes. His gaze flickered over her face, settling on her lips for a moment too long before finally looking longingly into her wide eyes.

“Because I will do everything in my power to keep you safe, happy and loved, no matter what.” Her breath hitched and for a moment, doubt crept into Sam’s mind. “Because you deserve so much more than what life has given you and I want to fix that.” He rushed to add on, hoping that she would not reject him once more. 

But then, Y/N rocked forward and captured his lips in the best kiss of Sam’s life. 

The world blurred around them as their lips danced together. Sam could taste the beer she had drunk but also something else- something that was just her. His hand fell to her neck making her moan loudly into his mouth as his thumb accidentally brushed against the raised skin of her scent gland.

His knees buckled as her scent suddenly filled through the room, emptying his mind of everything except her. Her nails dug into his back, the kiss quickly became something more. 

“Wait wait wait.” Sam reluctantly ripped himself from her but she wasn’t letting go that easily. She pulled him back into another kiss which he was barely able to pull away from. “Wait babygirl. Are you sure you want to go any further?” His right hand, which she now realised was low on her back, the tips of his fingers brushed against the swell of her ass, pressed her further into his toned stomach. 

Y/N whined trying to chase his lips but a warning growl from Sam had her obediently silent. “I need a clear answer, omega.” He raised an eyebrow at her. 

“Please, I want you, all of you.” She managed to get out through the heavy lump of arousal in her throat. Sam smirked, his alpha preening at her desperation and her acceptance that he was hers. Yet he still did not kiss her again. Part of him wished for her to beg, to scream and cry for him after her rejection. 

His thumb pressed down onto her scent gland, immediately making her eyes grow hazy. “Then prove it.” 

Her hands flew to his belt buckle, trembling almost violently as she struggled to open it and gain access to what she was craving. She growled in frustration, ripping the leather apart Y/N was finally able to pull his dark jeans down enough for his cock to spring free, unburdened by any boxers. 

Sam could barely hold back a groan as she moaned loudly at the sight of him. Her eyes flicked to his but quickly returned to the long and thick cock just a hair’s breadth away. The old hardwood groaned with the impact of her knees as she dropped in front of him. “Omega-“ He tried to say but suddenly her mouth was on him. 

A saltiness exploded on her tongue as Y/N licked up his tip, lapping at the pre-cum that was already gathered there. She mewled, eager for more of the alpha in her mouth. Her lips pulled tighter with each inch she swallowed down, her jaw already beginning to ache even though she had barely taken half of him down her throat. 

Sam’s hands balled into fists, his knuckles paling with the force. He watched with bated breath as the omega’s eyes hardened and she forced down even more of his cock. “Babygirl- fuck- slow down.” Now he was the one begging but she refused to listen. 

She pulled back slightly, just enough that the fat head of his cock rested on the back of her tongue and then she pressed forwards again, now able to brush the tip of her nose against the groomed thatch of hair on the base of his pelvis. Sam threw his head back and moaned loudly, his cock already throbbing with the edge of ecstasy. 

“Omega stop.” Her movements ceased but he was still deep down her throat. Her eyes were wide with a questioning gaze, the colour of her irises completely swallowed up by her pupils. The room was thick with their scent, and had he been in the right mind, Sam would wonder if the two men downstairs could smell them. 

Delicately, he cupped her hollowed out cheeks and dragged her from his cock. She whined in protest as she was ripped away from him and Sam couldn’t help but chuckle. “So good for me, so perfect. Can I take care of you now?” He cooed, rubbing his thumbs across the apple of her cheeks. 

Her eyelids fluttered and she nodded enthusiastically. 

She went limp in his arms as Sam pulled her to his feet, letting him guide her soft body back onto the creaky mattress easily. She bounced once, her tits jumping towards her chin with the movement though they were still confined by her bra. 

Sam’s plaid slipped over his head quickly, followed by his undershirt, leaving him completely bare to the omega who was still fully dressed. Her thick thighs pressed together under the weight of his gaze, needing any sort of friction against her core or she felt she would go mad. 

His touch was hot, even through the thick denim of her jeans, as he slowly crawled up the length of her body, absentmindedly kissing the little flashes of skin where her shirt had risen on her stomach, her wrists, her collarbone until he finally reached her lips once more. 

He gripped a plump thigh in one hand, the other holding his huge body above her as they lazily kissed. His hips settled against hers, immediately fanning the flames of desire between the two. She wiggled beneath him, fingers desperately pulling at the buttons of her own flannel, bumping into his hard chest with each unsuccessful attempt. 

Sam let his hand drift from her thigh to the button of her jeans, popping it open with a calm ease that made her omega preen. Long fingers slid into her pants, immediately finding her panties completely soaked through with slick. As soon as his rough fingertips brushed against her covered clit, Y/N threw her head back and howled, her hips canting up to chase his touch.

With her neck now exposed, his lips found their way to her hot skin, nipping and sucking as his fingers pushed her panties to the side. Nails dug into the strong muscles of his back as he gently traced the length of her. “So wet for me. I’ll make you feel so good, omega.” 

Before she could even take a breath, her pants were ripped down her legs along with her panties and discarded across the room. Sam’s eyes were fixated on the apex of her thighs, hungrily licking his lips at the sight of her laid out before him. 

Without any warning, he dove in as if he could no longer stop himself. Pleasure shot up her spine in a way she had never before experienced. Sam nosed at her clit, groaning happily as more slick poured from her. He tried to be gentle at first, to ease his way into her but as soon as she clenched tightly around his tongue, Sam knew that there was no going back, that he would do this every day, multiple times a day if it were up to him, for the rest of their lives.

“Sam!” She cried, her hips bucking from the bed, making the old bed springs scream in protest with the sudden movement. Sam growled into her cunt, the vibrations sending a mind-numbing spark through her body, and grabbed her wide hips to keep her pinned down. Now unable to escape his mouth, Y/N was forced to feel every stroke of his tongue and each flick of his large nose against her clit. It was overwhelming, overpowering and tortuous in all the best ways.

The edges of her mind were beginning to go fuzzy just as small black dots grew in her vision. She grabbed at his hands, their fingers intertwined as she held them to her covered chest, desperate for more of the alpha’s touch like she could never get enough of him. Sam’s head bobbed with each furious thrust of his tongue, lapping up everything she was giving him. Her chest heaved as she struggled to breathe. Her body strung tight with her impending release but still it did not cum.

She lifted her head from the pillows and opened her mouth to beg the alpha to cum but instead, she saw how he was nestled between her thighs, his own body tightly pressed to the bed sheets as his lean hips rolled down. He was humping the bed, furiously so, all because of her taste. 

The omega shattered in his arms, her orgasm washing over her like nothing before. She was silent only for a moment, too washed out in pleasure to make a sound but then, she screamed. Her cum coated his tongue and Sam couldn’t stop his own orgasm from slamming into him- her sounds, her taste, her warmth, it was all too much for him and the alpha spilled himself onto the moth-eaten duvet cover.

“Alpha.” She sobbed, her soft arms reaching out to him. “Wan your knot!” Part of Sam winced at her tears but his alpha was howling in pride at leaving the omega a desperate puddle of lust and need for him. He wrapped her up in a comforting embrace, twisting both their bodies so that she could lay mostly on top of him.

“Shhh omega. You will get it, but not today.” She stiffened in his hold but he was quick to reassure her.

“I want to earn it, your trust and your mark.” He smiled and kissed her softly, cupping her jaw in one massive hand. “Let me work for it, please.”

Her shy smile knocked the breath from his lungs, her eyes shining with the beginnings of love. “Yeah okay.” Sam relaxed back into the bed, deliriously happy as Y/N laid her head on his bare chest, hand over the heart that beat only for her.

SPN Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv

Supernatural

@hc-geralt-23 @mandythemint @jenniferpendragon @certifiedhunter @lover-of-books-and-te @honkytonkbabe

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x plus size reader #sam x plus size reader #sam x you #sam x reader #alpha!sam x omega!reader #alpha!sam winchester #omega!reader #tw a/b/o #a/b/o dynamics #Smut #angst #supernatural imagine #spn imagine #plus size reader #Female reader #sam winchester x female reader #sam x fem!reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural x plus size reader #supernatural x you #spn x reader #reader insert #anon #inbox #fluff

[arcanespillo]

Skin, SPN S1E06

Leonard Betts, TXF S4e12

#Skin #SPN S1E06 #Leonard Betts #TXF S4e12 #spn #supernatural #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn screencaps #jensen ackles #jared padalecki #txf #the x files #the supernatural files #tw blood #blood #tw gore #?... #its shredded skin i guess... #spn 1x6 #this is literally the same episode

[babyjackdaniels]

#fox writes imagines #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #hunter!reader #weight mention tw #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x hunter!reader #18+ imagine #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #dean winchester imagine #hunter!reader imagine #dean winchester x reader imagine #dean winchester x hunter!reader imagine

[k-slla]

Always and forever

A/N: I'm almost finished with my first bingo card- honestly can't believe it! Only one more square after this :)

Square filled for @jacklesversebingo : "You told me you were okay! You promised!" Will be in bold

Warnings: loss of a child, grieving, attempted suicide, lots of angst, survivor's guilt, car accident (mentioned only)

A/N2: I can only imagine the pain of having to bury your child, but losing a loved one in car accident because of a drunk driver is unfortunately far too familiar to me. Don't drink and drive.

W/C: ~2k | My Masterlist

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

All mistakes are mine. Reblogs/Likes/Comments always appreciated!

Never would have you imagined that loss of your child is something you'd ever have to go through. You wouldn't wish this upon anyone.

You and Jensen were standing now at the open door of the funeral home, with you cramped up to his hand, unable to move. Guilt, pain, shame, anger and all other negative emotions that come with grief, were crushing you from the inside. Jensen saw you struggling and pulled you against him, keeping you close. “We have to go inside. They're waiting for us.”

You didn't even bother to try and keep your tears at bay.

“I know, but..I c-can’t.. I can't move.” You looked up at your husband, who was sharing your pain, and tried his best to ease from the guilt and shame that had overcome you. He pressed his lips softly to your forehead, whispering. “I know..baby, I know, but I am here with you. Always and forever.” You felt a warm tear running down his cheek against yours.

“I just need a little more time. Little more before I say goodbye to her.” You hid your face into his neck. He hugged you tight as both of you stood still in the brisk autumn air.

You remember clearly the day you held her for the first time. As if you could ever forget that. You never believed those talks about how after giving birth you immediately forget everything after you see your baby. You never believed it to be true. How would it be possible to forget the physical pain so easily? But when you finally saw your tiny baby girl, you didn't think of the pain you went through, all that was occupying your mind was just how incredibly beautiful she was.

“Do you have a name for her yet?” Nurse next to you asked Jensen while you were still admiring the little bundle in your arms. “Aspen. Aspen Joelle Ackles.” he whispered and lightly dried his eyes from the tears. “Welcome to the world, baby Aspen.” The nurse smiled.

You laid in the bed, tired, but still smiling at Jensen when you saw him holding your daughter in his arms for skin-on-skin contact, beaming from happiness.

Both you and Jensen got used to your new roles as parents quickly. He still had to return to filming the show, but you weren't alone and he was home every weekend like clockwork. For five years your lives were perfect, until the accident that broke your little family.

He hugged you tight for the last time, and from the corner of your eye you saw all your friends and family waiting for you and Jensen to join the memorial service for your daughter. With your head held down, you walked into the room side by side with him. The silence in there was deafening, as everyone patiently waited for you to sit down.

A quick glance at the casket in the middle of the room made it almost impossible for you to keep your sobs under control. It was just heartbreakingly small.

Life is full of all kinds of twists and turns, you knew that, but it was just unfair how in the game of life and death, Aspen was the one to lose and the drunk driver responsible for your car accident was able to walk away unharmed. You just couldn't accept it. But it seemed that it was like this most of the time with these situations.

Innocent souls always seemed to be the ones who lost.

The memorial went by with your mind being completely fogged up. Both of your parents said a few words on your behalf, to make it a little bit easier for you, but you couldn't register anything they said. You were just focused on Jensen next to you, tightly holding onto your hands. One by one your closer family started saying their goodbyes to Aspen. You wanted to be left alone in there with Jensen for yours, because even now you were just barely holding on.

A week was all that was possible for Jensen to get off from work for the funeral. A week. Then he had to return to Vancouver for filming. Your parents were visiting almost daily, but you wished they’d rather leave you alone. Only person you needed for comfort was your husband and he had to work. You actually encouraged him to go work. He offered to stay with you, no matter the consequences, but you couldn't do that to him. You knew what it meant for him to be able to work on the show. And working has always eased his mind from anything, so you hoped it would make grieving a little easier for him too.

Each day you could feel the guilt starting to slowly eat you up more, and depression began to deepen its roots inside you. All day and night, your mind was always racing with the possibilities of different outcomes. What if?

What if you would've told Jensen to take a taxi home from the airport? What if you would've waited five more minutes at home before leaving to pick him up? What if you would've left five minutes earlier? Would any of this have changed anything? Would your daughter be still alive? All of this was playing in your head like a broken record, but you'd never know.

Day by day, everything started to get even more overwhelming. Eating. Getting out of bed. You were either sleeping all day or you weren't sleeping at all. All those small every day motions. It was all too much. But you still didn't look for help. You couldn't admit to anyone that you needed it, not even Jensen. On the outside, with each passing day, your smile was growing. On the inside, you felt nothing other than the guilt of you surviving the accident instead of your daughter. It got too painful for you to even exist, so you were looking for an easy way out.

Jensen didn't talk to you at all, when he visited you in the hospital, but you were still glad that he even came. Even if he just sat there beside your bed, you saw how he was barely keeping himself together each time he glanced at you. Slightly sniffling, but still silent. Past few months have not been kind to either of you. Worry, grief, pain- everything had left their mark, aging you more than they should have. While there wasn't a point to try to come up with excuses for yourself, you still felt like you had to say something. “I'm sorry, Jensen.” Your voice was barely above whisper. It wouldn't make anything better, but it was all you managed to say.

You saw that his green eyes were full of hurt and betrayal when he got up from the chair, not even acknowledging your apology. “I have to speak to your doctor.”

You were kept in hospital for a few days, under “observation”. In other words - to make sure you were mentally stable enough that you wouldn't try to take your life again. You knew that even if they'd let you home sooner, Jensen wouldn't leave your side. Even now he only left the hospital for an hour or so every day, the rest of the time he sat in the chair by your bed, even slept in it. But now he had come home for a longer time to be with you, as the filming for the season had ended.

When you were finally let home, the drive there was again in deafening silence. You noticed him fidgeting nervously with the steering wheel. As soon as you got home, you just planted yourself onto the sofa in the living room. Jensen joined you a moment later and both of you sat there for a while without speaking. Time seemed to move so slowly.

He finally moved a little bit closer to you, but didn't look at you when he started speaking. “Why?” His voice was completely broken, as was he himself too. “Why did you do this, Y/N?” You turned to take a closer look at him. The lines around his eyes were now more prominent than they used to. His beard was also longer than he usually kept. The overall look of him was just like there was only a shell left of the man he used to be.

“I-I just didn't want to be here without you anymore.” You finally managed to whisper. “It was too much for me.”

You couldn't turn your eyes away from him, and at last he met your gaze, his eyes seemed to be full of even more pain than before.

“Why did you let me leave then?" He asked quietly. "I told you I'd stay with you.”

“I knew you'd feel better when you'd be away from here, working. I didn't want to be the reason to keep you here.”

He scoffed. “So you opted for suicide instead of calling me home? Instead of talking to me? I'm your husband. You know I would've left anything behind for you in a heartbeat. Always, sweetheart.”

“You would've probably been fired.”

“I don't care about that! I care about you! I only left because you told me to! I asked you to come with me.” He tried to get his voice under control, not to be yelling at you, but it was without success. “You told me you were okay! You promised!” He paced around in the living room, trying to calm down.

Your voice didn't fail to match his tone. “How could I ever be okay? I lost my daughter. I will never be okay with that!”

“I lost her too. I lost my baby too.” He came to kneel in front of you.

Both you were broken, crying, letting out emotions you had kept in for so long, desperately seeking consolation from one another. “No one will ever ask us to be okay with losing her. We just have to be there for each other, but you almost left me completely alone..” he reached his hand out for your cheek. “I was so close to losing you too, do you even realize that? When I got the call, I..” he couldn't finish his sentence. You finally saw what you would've left behind if your attempt would've been successful. Your parents would've had to bury their daughter, just as you did. Jensen would've buried his daughter and wife in a span of short six months. The thought of that made you broke down again.

“I'm sorry, Jensen.” You felt the wall that kept your emotions at bay, crumble at your feet. “It's just- I feel guilty..for the accident.” You were now sobbing hard as Jensen sat next to you again. “I should’ve taken some other route or anything. I should've done something. I feel like it's all my fault.”

He pulled you up into his lap before closing his arms around you. “It was not your fault, Y/N..It was not, and you wouldn't have been able to stop it.” he sighed. You let him hold you tight and rested your head onto his shoulder. “It's hard for me to believe that.” You sniffled.

“I know I haven't been home a lot, but when was the last time you visited AJ's grave?” Jensen asked softly. You took a little time to think. You realized it had been way too long. “I can't remember.” You answered him. “I just couldn't go there alone.” You had to admit with a heavy heart.

“Let's go there together then, hm?” You only nodded against his chest.

“Honey, please look at me for a second.” He begged gently. “Please promise me that you'll never push your emotions down, because you think that would make me feel better. I never want you to feel like you have to keep your feelings in because of what would be better for me. Never. I will always be here for you. Always, because that's what I promised to you.”

You locked eyes with him and gave your promise to Jensen, as you made him promise the same to you. You were in this together, you will heal together. It wouldn't happen in a blink of an eye, but eventually you knew it would get easier. It just had to. You just had to be there for him, like he always stood beside you.

Always and forever.

Taglist (always open): @jackles010378 @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @il0vebeingdelulu @alternativeprincess94 @suckitands33 @nescavaneck

#jacklesversebingo23 #heed the warnings #jensen ackles #jensen ackles one shot #angst #tw: death #tw: grief #tw: depression #jensen ackles x reader #spn cast #jensen ross ackles #jackles

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Daddy's Favourite | John x Daughter!Reader | Oneshot

Summary: Y/N plays the role of John’s favourite child well. 

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Pairing: John x Daughter!Reader (Jeffrey Dean Morgan x Reader)

Tags: Daddy kink, innocence kink, virgin, role play, daddy/daughter incest, incest kink,  oral sex (male rec), p in v, praise kink, validation

WC: ± 1.6K

A/Ns: Commissioned by the lovely Tina. Hope you love this <3

JDM & Characters Masterlist

“Daddy? I can’t sleep again.” 

He sighs as he feels the covers being drawn back, and a warm body slides in alongside him, pressing up against him tightly. As his brain wakes up and comes around, he suddenly realises what’s happening, and a tiny smirk plays across his lips before he tames it and clears his throat, keeping his eyes closed. 

“Why, princess?” he asks in his sleep-thick tone. 

 “I keep thinking about Sammy,” she whines, burying her face into his bare chest. 

He hums and wraps his arm around her, stroking her back softly, feeling her in nothing but a flannel shirt, and hums softly under his breath. 

“Missing your twin brother, hm?” he prompts. He can feel her nod against him, but she doesn’t reply verbally. “It’s okay, baby girl, Daddy’s here,” he reassures her, his hand stroking her back, lower and lower until he’s touching bare skin, just under the curve of her ass. He moans softly under his breath, and then inhales deeply, bringing his hand back up a little higher. “I’ve got you,” he whispers.

He feels her roll onto her back beside him, her one leg pushing through his two, and she whines needily under her breath. 

“Make me feel better, Daddy?” she begs softly. 

With his eyes remaining closed, he reaches over, his hand stroking over her stomach through her shirt, realising she’s barely done any buttons up, and it doesn’t take much work for him to be touching bare skin instead. It’s as warm and soft as always, and her chest rises and falls quicker and quicker the more he touches her, leaving goosebumps in his wake, and Y/N moans softly, arching her back up into his touch. 

“Please, Daddy,” she whimpers, bringing her hand to his and encouraging it towards her breast. 

He groans as he gropes her, and her nipple hardens under his touch, which makes her gasp, and he feels her spread her legs wider. He gives her nipple a quick tweak, his eyes finally fluttering open to see her breasts poking out through the plaid, her nipples hard, the moonlight from the slight crack in the curtain casting a beam of light over her soft skin. 

“Fuck, baby girl, look at you, so perfect,” he hums appreciatively, letting his hand wander further down her body once again, pleasantly surprised to find that she’s not wearing any panties. 

Her pussy is freshly shaved and smooth, dripping with arousal, clearly turned on thinking about what her Daddy is about to do to her. The thought only makes his cock harder, and he groans in approval as he flicks a finger through her slick. 

“That’s a wet little pussy, sweetheart,” he rasps. “Were you thinking about Daddy?” 

“Yes,” she hesitantly admits. The confirmation only makes him harder in his boxers. 

“Fuck, baby girl. Were you thinking about me touching you like this?” 

“Yes,” she agrees, a little less ashamed this time. 

“Do you like me taking care of you like this, princess?” he asks, smirking, teasing her clit with the lightest of touches. 

“Mhm,” she whines, squirming under his touch. “Please, Daddy,” she begs. “Make me feel good.” 

He laughs as he lowers his fingertips to her entrance, and teases one around the opening, dipping it inside slowly, feeling how hot and wet she is around his digit, knowing she’ll feel even better when it’s his cock instead. 

“Such a sweet little pussy, baby girl. Do you let anyone else touch you like this?” he murmurs. Instantly, she shakes her head ‘no’. “Dean?” he checks, again she shakes her head, “Sam?”

“No, Daddy, only you.” 

The confirmation makes it nearly impossible to hold back, and he reaches up to take her hand, guiding it inside his boxers and encouraging her to wrap her hand around his cock. 

“Feel that, baby? Feel what you do to your Daddy?” Y/N whimpers pathetically, and his cock throbs in her hand. “Why don’t I show you how to use that mouth, hm?” he prompts. “We haven’t tried that yet.”  

She nods eagerly, licking her lips wet and sitting up. She instantly starts tugging his boxers down as he rolls onto his back, and she eagerly takes him in her hand once again and bites her bottom lip, looking up at him through her lashes. He reaches down, wrapping his fingers around the base of his cock before guiding it towards her mouth. She opens it hesitantly at first, keeping her eyes on his as she closes again around his tip, and begins to suck softly. He chokes on a moan, throwing his head back into the pillow, and this seems to encourage her to take him deeper, starting to gag softly on his length, but she doesn’t stop. Her tongue begins to swirl, and his head starts to spin, until she abruptly stops, and he looks down his body at her. 

“Like that?” she checks, blinking up at him. 

“Just like that, baby, you’re a natural,” he encourages, reaching up to push her hair out of her face. 

This seems to encourage her to continue, once again leaning down to start sucking his cock, swirling her tongue around him, flicking the underside of his head with the tip, making him moan louder, fisting the sheets beneath him. 

“C’mere, baby girl,” he encourages out of breath, beckoning her up his body with his fingers. She leaves his cock spit sodden on his stomach and crawls further up the bed, kneeling beside him. “Straddle my waist,” he commands softly, taking her hand. 

He helps her get her leg the other side of him, and looks up at her, the plaid shirt hanging open from her shoulders, giving him a full view of her perfect naked body underneath, and his cock twitches at the sight, and he can hardly believe he’s lucky enough to fuck someone this gorgeous. 

“Think you can take Daddy’s cock inside you, sweetheart?” he prompts, wrapping his fingers around the base and teasing her weeping hole with the tip of his cock, moaning at the warmth of it, just thinking about how good it’s going to feel. 

“Will it hurt?” she asks, her eyes wide and innocent. 

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he mutters under his breath, trying his hardest to stave off his climax already. She knows just the right things to get him right to the edge. 

“Only a little,” he admits, “Daddy’s got you, baby, will make you feel really good, I promise,” he hums. 

“Like when you touch me with your fingers?” she blinks. 

“Fuck,” he chuckles breathlessly. “Yeah, like that baby, but better,” he nods. 

“Okay, Daddy.” 

He presses his cock at her entrance, then places his hands on her hips, guiding her down slowly onto his length. His eyes roll at the feeling of her cunt sucking him in, squeezing him so beautifully.

“Fuck, baby girl, you feel so good, look at you,” he hums, rubbing his hand over her stomach, feeling the bulge of his cock at the base. “Such a good girl f’me,” he purrs. She moans at the praise, her eyes fluttering closed, her hands resting gently on his chest. “Good girl,” he repeats, watching the pleasure wash over her face. 

He slowly begins to lift and drop his ass, fucking up into her slowly, watching her start to moan and writhe above him, her chest heaving with her heavy breathing. She throws her head back, and he sits up to kiss at her breasts and her neck, and then his lips capture hers and she whines needily into his mouth, her fingers tangling into his hair. 

“Fuck, Daddy, feels so good,” she pants, rolling her hips down, and he groans loudly, hardly able to keep this ruse up for much longer. 

“C’mon baby girl, cum on Daddy’s cock, c’mon,” he encourages, watching her grow more and more desperate as she chases her high. “C’mon, sweetheart.”    

“Oh fuck, Jeff,” she gasps loudly, breaking character, tugging his hair harder as he feels her come undone on his cock, that same perfect feeling he always has whenever she cums for him. 

“Good girl,” he hums, and she slowly drops her head, kissing him sloppily, completely out of breath. 

Jeff chuckles at her sated disposition and wraps his arms around her. “You done, baby girl?” he asks. 

“No,” she insists, shaking her head, starting to lift and drop her hips again, but Jeff can tell she’s getting a little tired now, so he holds her close and rolls them over, laying her down. “Fuck me, Daddy,” she begs, out of breath. 

“Oh, we’re still doing that, are we?” he smirks, “because you’re acting too slutty to pass as a virgin now,” he adds, making her laugh breathlessly. 

“No, I’m still your good girl, Daddy,” she tells him, batting her eyelashes, back in her role like she never left it. 

Jeff hums, feeling his cock throb inside her, he does love that game they play. 

“Well in that case, you don’t mind if Daddy cums in your pretty little pussy, do you, sweetheart?” he asks, making her moan, arching her back off of the bed. 

“No Daddy, wanna be your good girl,” she insists. 

“Oh you are, princess. Daddy’s favourite.”

Pssst, you could've read this 4 weeks ago! Find out more here!

#daddy's favourite #jeffrey dean morgan #john x daughter!reader #jeff x reader #smut #roleplay #father/daughter #tw: incest #oneshot #negans-lucille-tblr #supernatural #spn fanfic

[runawaydr3amerao3]

Presented without context.

"But in the face of ‘hey, I suck off your gun loaded with 2 bullets so if I accidentally kill myself, there is one for you too when you find me’

Post nut clarity is a hell of a thing"

— @sam-is-my-safe-word

#wincest #weirdcest #gencest #supernatural #spn #sam and dean #samdean #dean and sam #deansam #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean x sam #sam x dean #wincest thoughts #psychotically irrationally erotically codependent #fun with guns #gun play #gun kink #tw guns #the fucked up shit you write when you have a fucked up friend to cheer you on #it's so beautiful

[samsrosary]

inspired by posts by @suncaptor

#sastiel #tw derealisation #samcas #sam winchester #castiel #spn #supernatural #sam x castiel #just a doodle #i always end up making sam look tiny. whether thats a bad or a good thing i do not know

[hunterscabin]

Safe With Us

Summary: The reader is an actress on Supernatural. When a routine fight scene causes you to panic and run off set, Jared and Jensen comfort you. In doing so, they learn about the abuse you’ve been suffering at the hands of your boyfriend, Nicholas.

Pairings: Jared x Reader; Jensen x Reader; OC Nicholas

Warnings: Mentions of physical and sexual abuse; feelings of helplessness; language 

Word Count: 2.2k 

Author’s Note: If your or someone you know is suffering from domestic abuse, The National Domestic Hotline can help. You can find more information and resources on their website athttp://www.thehotline.org/. If you are afraid your internet usage is being monitored, you can reach someone from The National Domestic Hotline by phone at 1-800-799-7233 or TTY 1-800-787-3224. Click HERE for domestic violence resources for those living outside the United States.

Sufferers of sexual assault can seek help through RAINN, the nation’s largest anti-sexual violence organization. They can be reached via a live chat on their website, https://www.rainn.org/, or by phone at 1-800-656-4673. Click HERE for sexual assault resources for those living outside the United States.

Suddenly, Jared brought his arm above his head, his palm open flat ready to strike you. You immediately cowered, turning in on yourself and away from him.

“Hold!” Rich called from behind the camera. “Everything okay, Y/N?”

“Sorry. Reflex.” you called out, still hunched over trying to collect yourself. It took a moment, but you were finally able to stand upright.

“I don’t remember rehearsing a slap,” you remarked, more to yourself than to the surrounding crew.

“We didn’t rehearse an actual hit because he won’t be following through. Sam is simply threatening your character.” the stunt coordinator explained.

You nodded slowly in understanding. You were still rattled, but you figured it best to just continue with the scene. Filming was almost finished, and it was only a matter of time before you could go back to your trailer and decompress.

“Sorry,” you repeated to Rich, your eyebrows furrowed in apology.  

“No worries,” he reassured. “We’re still rolling. Everyone back to one.”

You made your way to your mark where Jared was already repositioned.

“You all right?” he asked, noticing your lingering anxiety.

“I’m fine,” you lied with a forced smile.

The crew settled and Rich called out, “Action!”

You and Jared began the fight sequence. You expertly maneuvered through the first few steps, deflecting a body check and pinning Jared against the doorframe. It wasn’t until his hand unfurled from your grip and reached over his head that you froze. Panic swept through you, and the whole room started spinning.

“Get it together, Y/N,” you thought as you closed your eyes and attempted to steady your breathing. You were trying to calm your shaking hands when Rich slid out of his chair and approached you.

“What’s going on, Y/N/N?” His voice was quiet and concerned.

“I think I just need a minute.” Your eyes remained fixed on the floor. Jared and Rich exchange a worried look.  

“I can do you one better than a minute.” Rich turned to the crew and yelled, “Seems like a good time to break for lunch. Everyone back in an hour!”

“Thank you,” you muttered, expertly dodging the comforting hand Rich was extending toward your shoulder. Before he could say anything, you were nearly running off set. Rich caught Jared’s gaze and nodded after you in silent suggestion that he should follow to make sure you were okay. Jared understood and was right behind you as you burst through the soundstage doors.  

“Y/N. Talk to me!” Jared urged as he chased after you.

“Jared, please. I just need a minute.” You didn’t even turn around to acknowledge him. You were too focused on the nervous energy coursing through your entire body. You picked up speed as your trailer came into view, but your quickened pace was no match for Jared’s long legs. He was somehow at your door before you, blocking the entrance.

“Jare,” you exhaled. Your tone was urgent and laced with a profound sense of fear and defeat.

He knew immediately that whatever was going on was serious, so he proceeded carefully. You were extremely independent, and he knew that you didn’t easily accept help or comfort.

“We don’t need to talk,” he compromised, “I just don’t want you to be alone right now.”

Knowing he would never relent, you conceded with a sigh and nodded your head for him to open the door. Once you were both inside, Jared moved to sit on the couch, never taking his eyes off you. As he watched you flit about your trailer, he tried to determine what was bothering you. You hadn’t been yourself for several weeks. It was a regular topic of conversation between him and Jensen. Honestly, the majority of the cast and crew had sensed that something was off, but no one had confronted you. Despite your positive and outgoing nature, you were never very open with your feelings. You were one of the strongest women many of them knew, but your resiliency was built upon a near refusal to let others in. You had grown up in a family not unlike the Winchesters and had been taught from a young age that any sign of weakness was unacceptable.

“Can I get you something to drink?” you asked, filling up your teakettle.

“Coffee would be good,” he replied, acknowledging that you were trying to keep busy. You pulled a pod of his favorite brew from your cabinet and placed it in your coffee maker.

“Milk and sugar?”

“Just milk, please,” he answered, getting up to join you in your kitchenette.

“Oat milk okay?” you asked, surveying the limited contents of your refrigerator.

Before Jared was able to reply, you grabbed the carton and turned around, not realizing that he was now right behind you. Your face collided with his chest and the milk immediately slipped from your hand. You both made an attempt to catch the falling carton, but it hit the floor with a thud. The cap came flying off and milk spouted up, showering you both.

After a moment of surprise, you looked up to see Jared smiling. You let out a small laugh.  

“Sorry about that,” you said, reaching for a nearby hand towel. 

“No use crying over spilled milk,” Jared quipped and you both chuckled. You handed Jared the towel, and he began wiping his face and shirt.

Your outfit fared worse in the whole debacle, and you absentmindedly removed your nearly soaking flannel. You froze the second your top layer hit the floor. Distracted by the universe’s small gift of comedic relief, you had completely forgotten that underneath, you were only wearing a tank top. You quickly reached for a sweater draped on the chair beside you and scrambled into the long sleeves, but it was too late. 

“Y/N,” Jared gasped, barely above a whisper. He slowly moved toward you and placed a gentle hand on your arm. He grimaced when you instinctively flinched at his touch. You turned to face him, using every fiber of your being to maintain a stoic face.

“What happened?” Your nervous hands had been unable to zip your sweater, and Jared gingerly pulled one of the open lapels away from your shoulder exposing a large bruise. “Oh, Y/N/N,” he whispered. You remained still as he moved your sleeve down a bit more. “Did Nicholas do this?”

“Yes.” You were both taken aback by your quick and straightforward answer.

“Some of these bruises look old, Y/N/N.”

“It’s been going on for a while.” There was no use in continuing to cover up the truth.

“Honey,” he breathed, still taking in the green and purple hues covering your exposed arm.  

“Jare, I’m…” you were interrupted as your trailer door swung open.

“Hey, Y/N/N, Rich told me what happened, and I…” Jensen stopped cold when he saw you. You immediately pulled away from Jared and shrugged your sweater back onto your shoulder, zipping it up to your neck and wrapping your arms around your stomach.

“Y/N.” Jensen’s voice was worried but stern. It didn’t take him long to piece everything together. “Nicholas.” he seethed through clenched teeth. The anger of his realization propelled him forward, and just as quickly as he’d barged in, Jensen was gone.  

You gazed up at Jared, and after an unspoken exchange, he turned to go after his friend.

“Jensen.” Jared called as he barreled down the steps of your trailer. “Jay. Stop.”

Jensen spun around. His face was knotted with rage. “I’m gonna kill him, Jare. I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Several crew members stopped briefly at the commotion, but Jared waved them off with a tight smile.

“Slow down.” Jared reasoned. He grabbed Jensen by the shoulders. “I know how badly you want to hurt him. Hell, if he were here, I’d kill him myself, but it’s not going to help anything. What Y/N/N needs right now is for us to be there for her.”

Jensen saw the pleading in Jared’s eyes and took a deep breath to center himself.

“You know she’ll never admit it, but she needs us, Jay.”

“You’re right.” Jensen conceded after a moment, and Jared patted his shoulder in reassurance.

You heard the door push open and were immediately overcome with guilt when you saw the boys’ expressions. Jensen had tried to collect himself as he and Jared walked back to your trailer, but he was still visibly worked up. Jared’s eyes were sunken with pity. It was painful to see the hurt they felt for you; you never wanted to put your suffering onto someone else.  

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, “This is why I didn’t tell either of you. I knew you’d be upset, and I just couldn’t bear...” your confession was interrupted as Jensen pulled you into his strong arms.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Y/N/N.” he assured you.

“I’m still sorry.” you admitted, your words muffled in his shirt. His heart sank at your misplaced guilt, and he tightened his hold on you, one arm wrapping further around your waist while his other hand cradled your head.

“I know, sweetheart,” Jensen soothed “I know.” He kissed your forehead before resting his cheek against your temple. He continued to hold you while the three of you stood in apprehensive silence. In the comfort of his embrace, the hesitation and doubt you had in telling the boys about the abuse began to fade, but in its place, a terrifying vulnerability crept in. You had always been able to take care of yourself, but you were starting to understand that your current circumstances were beyond your control. You needed help, and the realization left you feeling exposed and dismayed. Jensen recognized the shift as your entire body tensed, and he guided you to the couch. He took a seat next to you, and Jared pulled up a chair directly in front of you.

“Y/N/N, we knew something was wrong.” Jared confessed, drawing a hand down his face. “We just didn’t want to press the issue. You’re so private, so…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right phrasing.

You knew he’d be too kind to bring up your faults at a time like this, so you offered some assistance, “Closed off? Stubborn?”

“Something like that.” he said with a humorless laugh.

“It’s clear that you’ve been going through something, Y/N/N, but we had no idea.” Jensen enveloped your hand in both of his. “I would have never guessed that he would be capable of hurting you like this.” He let out a deep sigh. Jared and Jensen remained quiet giving you the space to open up if you were ready. Their patience was rewarded when you broke the silence.

“I thought I could handle this on my own.” you began, your voice starting to break. You had been strong up until this point, but you could feel your defenses falling in the presence of their comfort.

Jared grabbed the seat underneath him and pulled it closer to you. He placed both hands on your neck, his thumbs wiping the silent tears that were now rolling down your cheeks. He leaned further in and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. Still holding your face he pulled away to look at you. He could see how scared and hopeless you felt, and it broke his heart. “Y/N/N, darlin’, you do not have to do this alone,” his voice was quiet but firm, “We’re gonna get you away from him.”

Jensen took the hand on top of yours and moved it to your back, rubbing comforting circles. With his other hand still holding yours, he gently squeezed your grip. He leaned toward you and pressed a long kiss into your temple.

The love and concern you saw in both of their eyes sent you careening over your emotional edge. You let out a loud sob as the abuse you’d kept hidden and suppressed crawled out of the shadows and came for you. You told them everything, recounting the night he first hit you. How he struck you across the face, apologizing profusely after he realized what he’d done. How it happened a second time after he picked a meaningless fight. How he eventually stopped apologizing and started getting better at hitting you in places where no one would see. How he became more and more violent. How he started forcing himself on you when you would no longer agree to sleep with him.  

“Oh, sweetheart.” Jensen couldn’t take it anymore. He hooked an arm under your legs and laid them over his. He pulled your waist into him and held your face to his chest, kissing your forehead as he gently rocked you. “I’m so sorry, Y/N/N.”

Jared moved to sit next to you while you broke down in Jensen’s arms. Sobs racked your body and both men felt their own eyes begin to sting. They allowed you your moment of catharsis, neither of them being able to begin to understand the pain and suffering you’d been through. Once your sobs quieted, Jared took up your hands in his and rubbed his thumbs over your wrists.

“Y/N/N, baby girl, please look at me.” It took several seconds, but after a shaky breath, you found the courage to glance up at him. “You are safe with us,” Jared assured you, “He will never hurt you again. Ever.” An unwavering focus had replaced the sadness in his eyes.

You nodded, squeezing Jared’s hands as you nuzzled into Jensen’s chest. You knew in that moment they would do anything and everything to protect you, and for the first time in months, you felt a wave of peace and relief wash over you.

Masterlist

#jared x reader #jared padalecki x reader #jensen x reader #jensen ackles x reader #spn fanfic #spn rpf #supernatural fanfic #supernatural rpf #hurt/comfort #hurt comfort #tw: abuse #tw: dv

[eileenguy]

sam/eileen x f(x) "pink tape" art film

#yass.vid #saileen #eileen leahy #sam winchester #spn amvs #the song is 'shadow' by f(x) #saileen.txt #mreileensummer #saileen.vid #just realising this is my first saileen/eileen amv 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 #kpopnatural #f(x)natural #eyestrain #flashing tw #summer bash 23: day 2 #summer bash 23: day 3 #DO NOT listen to this with headphones on! #edit: DO listen to this with headphones on :D!

[1x20]

Maybe you could fight the Mark for years. Maybe centuries, like Cain did. But you cannot fight it forever. And when you finally turn, and you will turn... Sam, and everyone you know, everyone you love... they could be long dead. Everyone except me. I'm the one who will have to watch you murder the world.

— Supernatural 10.22 The Prisoner, written by Andrew Dabb

#spnedit #spncentral #destieledit #castieledit #destiel #castiel #deancas #supernaturaledit #supernatural #spn #cowboycoven #tusergen #blog #*gifs #*destiel #*castiel #spn: 10x22 #on all levels this is the castiel s~x tape #eyestrain tw

[iprobablyshipit91]

All That Matters

Genre: angst / romance / mutual pining / fluff

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: A few swears, mentions of torture, injuries, starvation and malnourishment

Written for: Dean’s Rootin’ Tootin’ Rodeo posted by @chocolatecakecas

SPN Masterlist

I’m back again as how could I not try and write something for this beautiful man’s birthday. It’s probably a bit more depressing than I intended but at least it’s happier at the end, promise! I’m a sucker for Protective!Dean 💕

It was 4am and you couldn’t stop pacing. You’d been at it for hours, back and forth across your room, practically carving a path in the unforgiving, cold concrete floor as your anxiety continued to bubble up inside you.

In your head a furious debate continued to rage as you take another glance at the door. You shake out your hands and screw your eyes shut as you desperately try to calm your breathing. In through your nose and out through your mouth. You know in your heart where you long to be. There’s only one damn place you feel safe anymore. The question is, will you go?

To say the last few months had been hard was the understatement of the century. You’d been on your own for the last year or so, since your surrogate father, Bobby, had been killed by Dick Roman. You could handle a gun and throw a punch, but really your skills were in helping out hunters where you could, studying lore and answering the phones and so you threw yourself into it whole heartedly to fill the gaping chasm in your chest. Of course, this also meant helping the Winchester boys.

You loved those boys like family. You’d grown up together when John had left them with Bobby for weeks at a time. These were the memories you looked back on most fondly. Running around with Sam, Dean joining you when he wasn’t pretending to be too cool for your childish games. The years had passed swiftly until one summer the boys came back and Dean seemed so different. He’d grown taller and filled out, and how could you have never noticed how green those eyes of his were? It was the biggest cliché and yet you fell hopelessly for him that summer. Sam rolled his eyes in disgust but swore diligently to never tell Dean your secret. And then just like that, they were gone again.

It wasn’t until many years later that the boys finally returned. Searching for their father and hunting anything that stood in their path. You helped them with Bobby, but damn it if your heart still didn’t melt at the mere sight of the eldest Winchester.

That was before.

You felt different now. You still loved Dean, how could you not? Your love for him had only grown over the years. However, you were skittish now and just felt so damn tired all the time. Your personality muted into a shadow of what it once was, content to sit and observe your surroundings rather than be the soul of the party as you had once been. Dean knew why. Sam knew why. Hell, everyone knew why and even though everyone told the brothers constantly that it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help but shoulder the responsibility. It was the Winchester way after all. It was them the demons were after when they kidnapped you in the dead of night and it was the bunkers location you’d been tortured for weeks for. Until the boys had finally found you, half starved, bruised and bloody, and rescued you.

The road to recovery had been hard. Cas had immediately healed your physical injury’s with a single touch once you were back in the bunker, but you knew it was the mental scars that were going to take the most healing. Flashes of the torture you’d endured haunting you at any given moment and you’d yet to manage more than a few hours sleep without a nightmare. You were still severely malnourished and had only just managed to start eating more than a few mouthfuls at a time.

After spending a week and a half in the bunker recovering under the boys watchful gazes you had gathered your few things together and made your way to the War Room, ready to say your goodbyes, determined not to out stay your welcome. Sure, you would miss the wonderful home cook meals Dean had been constantly preparing, despite you eating very little of them, and the way Dean had held you through the nightmares that had plagued you in those first nights. Waking up screaming until your throat was hoarse.

The look of identical incredulity on their faces when you told them you were heading home had almost been comical. After much debate Dean had simply taken your bags from you and marched you back to your room, insisting that you were staying with them at least until you were fully recovered and then they would talk more. Damn that Winchester guilt, you hated feeling like a burden. It didn’t take a genius to realise that the Winchesters had only invited you to live with them because they felt bad about it all, and you didn’t want to make that any worse. The tiniest part of you couldn’t help to feel relieved though, not really wanting to be alone anymore.

This brought you back to the present. Still marching across your room back and forth as the pent up anxiety slowly built until you felt like you were drowning. Before you’d really even made the conscious decision you were silently slipping out of your room and down the hall to Dean’s room. 

You knocked on his door once and heard nothing. After one more try with no response you simply opened up the door and asked, “Dean? Are you awake?” 

Before you had time to blink Dean was sat upright in bed, his gun trained on you. Somehow you didn’t even flinch, a part of you expecting this reaction and despite your recent trauma your brain just knew that this was Dean Winchester and he wouldn’t hurt you. You swallowed thickly and watched as he blinked hard, the sleep clearing from his eyes.

“Oh shit, Y/n, I’m so sorry,” the gun was gone in an instant and he was crossing the room to you in an old tee and jogger shorts. He gripped your shoulders quickly, eyes filled with remorse as they scanned over you. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? What are you doing here?”

The questions came far too rapidly for you to keep up with but Dean seemed to realise quickly there was no physical injuries but you still held yourself tense in his arms. Your mouth opened and closed wordlessly as you looked up at him, tears brimming in your eyes. It was as if your throat was closing up. Your hands twitched a bit– you just desperately wanted him to hold you right now. To remind you that you weren’t alone. “Can I sleep in here with you?” 

“You come to my room and wake me up at God knows what time to cuddle?” Dean asked, a faint amusement colouring his tone now he could see you were physically fine. His eyes adjusted to the dim light and saw how distressed you looked. Very quickly he wrapped his arm around your back and pulled you back to bed with him. Without thinking you firmly tucked your head into his chest and breathed a sigh of relief as his arms wrapped around you and he started rubbed circles into your back. You gripped his shirt tightly in your fists. “It feels like I forgot how to breath...”

“You’re going to be okay.” he spoke softly, his deep voice rumbling in his chest beneath you. Very slowly he took in the sensation of you relaxing underneath his touch. “You’ve got me and Sam. Lots of people who love you and are going to make sure that you’re safe. Always. We’ll take care of you.” 

You could feel your mind stumbling and sticking onto one of the things that he said, “Love me?” 

Dean sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn’t the time to get into that specifically, he thought. The morning, when you finally got some sleep would be better. “Yeah, Sweetheart. Family who love you.” 

Your heart skipped at his statement. How could he still not know how you felt?

Sam did though. He could see the torch you held for his brother as clear as if it was a beacon lighting up the night sky. You felt his watchful gaze on you as you gravitated towards his brother for comfort without thought. Needing him to be close to just make it through the god damn day.

You shifted just enough to nuzzle into his neck. “I love my family too.” He stiffened just a bit under your touch, and you felt Dean let out a very shaky breath. There was more you wanted to talk about, more you wanted to say, but you finally felt so warm and safe that you couldn’t be bothered to worry more about it. 

You were surrounded by warmth and Dean’s scent– that gunpowder, leather and oil combination that just made you feel like home. His arms felt nice and sturdy around you, and it was impossible not to become completely relaxed in them. 

Dean laid there debating with himself whether to push the subject– but the second he finally got his mouth open to speak he heard your breathing even out. 

You’d fallen asleep. 

Tomorrow. 

You woke up slowly and found yourself in a very different position than when you’d fallen asleep. Half of Dean’s weight was now on top of you as you laid on your back. Apparently both of you tossed and turned while you slept.

With a groan you patted Dean’s cheek a few times to wake him up, only resulting in him nuzzling into your collarbone more, his breath tickling your skin. “Stop waking me up, woman.” 

“It’s almost lunch, Dean.” You paused before adding, “You’re also using my chest as a pillow.” 

Immediately he sat up from on top of you, his face tinged pink. “Sorry about that Sweetheart” 

You snickered and rubbed your eyes as you slowly sat up in bed as well. “It’s alright. We were both asleep.” It was impossible to keep from laughing a little more, as you realised just how bad his bedhead was. Without thinking you reached out and began to fuss with a bit that was really stuck up. “Is this why you spend so much time messing with your hair, Dean?”

“You’re awful sassy to the guy who shared his bed with you last night.” 

“Mmm, well you ought to be used to my sass by now Winchester.” you slowly lowered your hand when you noticed his tongue flick over his lips, your stomach doing flips and your heart rate picking up. “Thank you though. I didn’t want to–” 

Dean watched as your lips pursed into a thin line, “Didn’t want to what?”

“Look, I know why you two asked me here. I know it’s because you think it’s your fault what happened to me. I don’t want to mess things up for you two more. I hate to be a liability.”

His blood boiled a bit at your words. “We asked you here because you’re our friend, who got hurt protecting us. We worry about you.”

You tried to protest again but he shook his head, “No. You went through something horrific Y/n. You’re still barely touching any food and you’re quiet now, you don’t sleep well! We wanted to make sure you’d be taken care of. That’s why you’re here. Because you took care of us, and now we’re taking care of you.”

Dean sucked in a breath, the rest of his speech dying down in his mouth as he looked at you. He’d had it all planned last night and yet when he looked at you with the dark circles and bags underneath your eyes he hesitated. Not because of you, but because of himself. So what that you still weren’t lit up like you were before Bobby died. You were the woman he loved, the woman he’d gladly die for. But he was poison, hadn’t your recent brush of death confirmed that? Once Dean Winchester decided he loved someone it was as good as placing a target on their back and signing their death warrant. And yet Sam’s words came floating back to him. You love her and you know she feels the same. Life’s too short, Dean. Seize the moment and be happy. Could he really dare to hope that you loved him back. 

“Do you want to kiss as badly as I do right now?” 

Your eyes went wide as your face snapped up to look at him, “What?” Your brain was reeling, not sure how he’d changed the subject without you knowing.

Dean blushed again, “I’m sorry, god. You don’t… that was terrible. I shouldn’t have asked that. God damn it that’s not a good thing to ask–” you weren’t in a good place, and pushing you about that or asking you things like that could result in you making a choice you weren’t later happy with and Dean didn’t want to do that to you. “I’m sorry. Don’t–”

Very gently, you reached out and cupped Deans cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned in, and you felt Deans hands on your shoulders so softly that you wondered if he was scared of hurting you. 

His lips were soft and warm, and the kiss you shared was sweet and chaste. Before everything that had happened you’d day dream about something far more passionate that would have ended in someone getting pinned against something but now it was just good to feel something so gentle. 

When you parted you were greeted with a fretful looking Dean, “You don’t have to do this.” 

“I want to.” you snickered just a bit, “We’re adults you know– it’s not like when we were twelve and kissing was the most crazy thing you could do with someone.” 

He smiled and then nuzzled into your neck and breathed in your scent. “I love you, you know.” 

“I love you too.” your hands once more went to his hair and played with the strands as you thought about his words, “But you already knew that didn’t you?” 

“I hoped. Wished I’d have said something before.” 

To that you shrugged– there were so many possibilities missed that you didn’t see the point in counting them all. “We’ve got it out now. That’s all that matters.” 

#dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x female reader #deansbirthdaybash #January 24th #24th January #Dean winchesters birthday #spn fanfic #spn fanfiction #spn #chocolatecakecas #tw: violence #tw: torture #tw: malnourishment #happy birthday dean winchester #iprobablyshipit91 writes #All That Matters