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thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 1 year

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To The Victor Chapter Three - Can't Be Claimed

Summary: Although Omegas had won the legal battle for equal rights, society was slow to catch up. Thought to be the weakest of the genders, they struggled to find opportunities that Alphas and Betas took for granted. Known as the Guillotine, Emmaline Beaumont was woman with a secret. Head of her family’s company; she was smart, shrewd, and tough as nails. At sixteen she presented as Omega and she’s hidden it ever since. Suppressants and hormone reassignment therapy allowed her to live her life as the Alpha her family needed her to be. The perfect solution, so long as she never allowed herself to be claimed. As the President of Winchester Inc. Dean’s professional life was golden. As an unmated Alpha nearing forty, he was restless. Charming and devastatingly handsome, Dean was rarely without female company, but he wanted more. He wanted what his parents had. Someone made especially for him. His match, his true mate. Finding her on a trip to New York had been an unexpected dream come true, but no one ever said the road to love was easy.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!OFC, Dean x OFC, Dean Winchester x OFC

Characters: Dean Winchester, OFC, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, John Winchester, Jody Mills

Warnings: ABO dynamics, Heat/Rut cycles, Smut (Unprotected sex, knotting, oral sex, claiming bites), hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals and medical talk, fluff and angst, age difference (Dean is 39, OFC is 27), True mates, self hate (OFC struggles with gender)

Chapter Three: Can't Be Claimed

Word Count: 3348

Masterlist

To The Victor Masterlist

The twenty minutes it took for help to arrive were nothing short of agony for Dean. He kept Emma cradled close. Whispering sweet words of encouragement in her ear, telling her to hold on, that help was on the way. She never responded, but he had to believe that she could hear him or at least knew he was there. That he wasn’t leaving her. That he was going to take care of her.

God, she’s so cold!

Dean tugged the blankets closer around the two of them and rubbed her arms roughly, desperate to infuse every ounce of his own heat to her chilled flesh. Give her his strength. Surround her with his scent. In his mind, he kept going over the conversation with Emma’s sister.

Emma can’t be claimed. Family doctor treating her since childhood.

Just what the hell did that mean? If it hadn’t been for the insistent tone in Jess’ voice, Dean would have called 911 instead. As it was, he was doubting his decision.

He pressed a kiss to Emma’s temple, “Keep fighting sweetheart, I’m right here.”

The door to the suite opened without so much as a knock of warning and a short, slight man entered. He wore a slim black suit and tie with a matching fedora pulled down over dark hair. His unsmiling face was sharply featured with beady eyes and a crooked, hawk-like nose. Everything about him was severe and unpleasant. The expression he wore was a mix of displeasure and annoyance. Going by the classic leather satchel in his hand, this man must be the family doctor.

Dean shifted Emma’s unconscious body off his chest and stood, “You the doctor?”

The man removed his hat and placed it on the table along with his bag, “I am Doctor Lancaster, and you are the Alpha who caused all the trouble.” He never spared Dean a glance as he rifled through his bag. His tone suggested an absolute disgust with the situation.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t appreciate being judged by a gargoyle in cheap mortician’s suit. Especially not when his mate’s life was hanging by a thread. “Yup, that’s me. So, are you able to help her?”

Lancaster moved over his patient with efficiency. After he took a few vitals, he drew out a vial and syringe from his bag of tricks. “I believe so, it was a good thing you called when you did. Another hour and she’d be dead.” He swiped an alcohol swab over the crook of Emma’s elbow and administered a hefty dose of the drug.

“What are you giving her?”

“Botox.”

The Alpha didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. He let out a low, menacing growl and clenched his jaw so that the muscle there twitched.

The doctor was equally unimpressed with the show of aggression. “It’s a combination of adrenaline, beta blockers and hormone booster.”

Dean frowned as he realized the implication, “She was on suppressants?”

“Ah! An Alpha with a brain! Nice to know at least one of you rutting beasts can think with something other than your nether regions.” Lancaster checked Emma’s pulse one last time. With a satisfied nod, he shut his bag and stood.

“Your Omega is going to be fine. Her temperature is already rising, and her heat cycle will now continue as normal.” The doctor gave Dean an appraising once over. “Judging by your own state, I’d say you are already aware of that.”

Dean was loathed to admit this quack was right about anything. The cavalier way he was treating a medical emergency should have him barred from practicing medicine anywhere in the civilized world. The fact that the emergency was his mate, made Dean want to rip the man’s throat out on principle alone. Yet, the little troll had done something right, because he could now pick up Emma’s scent. It was intoxicating, and stronger than it had ever been. Apple orchards and magnolia blossoms, it made his mouth water. His rut, that had been threatening since meeting Emma was now in full swing. His thoughts were quickly giving way to is Alpha instincts; protect, care for, and knot his mate.

Lancaster already had his hand on the door, knowing his presence wouldn’t be tolerated by a rutting Alpha for much longer. “She’ll wake in a couple of hours. When she does, the best treatment for her, is you.”

It was the faint, high pitched whine that finally pulled Emma from her dreamless sleep. She felt warm and secure. That lovely scent of sun-warmed cedar forest tickled her nose and she sighed in contentment, snuggling towards it.

“’Mega?”

The worry edged fear in that deep voice had her frowning before she even opened her eyes. When she did, Dean’s face was mere inches from hers, his handsome features tight with stress. The anxiety that rolled off him in waves made her heart clench. He was terrified.

She brought her hand out from under the nest of blankets and threaded it through Dean’s hair, “Alpha.”

Dean crushed her to his chest, his whole body trembled, weak with relief. After that wretched doctor left, Dean had ridded them both of their clothes and bundled them up under a mountain of blankets. He kept their bodies pressed as closely together as possible, his instincts telling him skin to skin contact was crucial to his Omega’s recovery. A warm, safe nest for just the two of them where he could protect her and look after her properly.

He scented her deeply, desperate to drown himself in the sweet fragrance. “Thank God,” he murmured over and over again.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m alright,” she soothed, brushing kisses against his forehead. She held him tight as he shook in her arms. A virile, strong Alpha like him wouldn’t be scared by much, and that told her all she needed to know about how critical things had gotten.

He had taken care of her, gotten her help and no doubt saved her life. Now it was her turn to take care of him, “I’ve got you; I’m right here.”

He kissed her roughly, stealing her words along with her breath. Desperation and urgency in every heated pass of his mouth over hers. His hands groped her aggressively, pawing at any bit of softness he could find. It took him several minutes to regain his control. He abruptly pulled away, panting for composure he would not easily grasp.

“I’m sorry… sorry.” He let his forehead fall against hers as his chest heaved. His voice was low and hoarse. “You need rest.”

Emma studied Dean’s pinched features. The tension coiled uncomfortably, barely contained, under the surface, sweat dotted his skin and his rock-hard length twitched between them. His eyes were nearly black, overtaken by the hormones and lust ravaging his system. This whole mess had triggered his rut, God knows how long he had been suffering with it while she was unconscious. The added worry that his mate was dying had made it nearly unbearable.

Her heart broke for him then and with it came guilt. This whole thing was her fault. She knew the consequences of doing anything with an Alpha while she was still taking the treatments. It was reckless and irresponsible and unforgivably selfish.

She cupped the side of his face, gently brushing her thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and leaned into her soothing touch. “I don’t need rest. I only need you.”

“No,” he muttered, trying to ignore the urges running through him. “I’m rough. Too rough. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

She continued to stroke his face, calming and soothing. “You won’t hurt me, I’m your Omega. And your Omega is a strong Omega.”

Dean mustered up a final ounce of control and looked into her deep, blue eyes. The comfort and consent he saw there eased the tightness in his chest. “’Mega mine.”

“Yours.” Emma confirmed softly and brushed her lips feather-light over his, “Mate now. Rest later.”

It lasted five days in total. Each of them seamlessly providing what the other needed most. Alpha and Omega. Balanced. Each a perfect counterpoint to the other. They relished in the joy of being together. Every experience was exciting and new, every touch satisfied in ways that surprised. Very few words were spoken, their connection was so strong that it over-rode the need to talk. That knowing, that deep down in the soul kind of certainty was staggering. The intimacy of their bond was deeper and more complex than either of them had ever known.

Now that their respective heat and rut cycles had ended, they were left with the rather mundane task of how to weave their lives together. These were the boring, yet very necessary details of the real world. The world outside of cozy one they’d created within the confines of the hotel suite. Neither of them were particularly excited at the prospect.

“So, going by this hotel room we’ve been honeymooning in, I’m guessing you’re not a New Yorker.”

Dean caught her gaze in the mirror as he deftly buttoned up the crisp, white dress shirt and smiled. Even her reflection caused his stomach to flip over. “Nope, Chicago. Born and bred. You?”

“Manhattan.”

“You ever been to the windy city?”

“A couple of times,” she shrugged, tucking her legs up demurely under her backside. “It’s not bad for fly-over country.”

“Fly-over country?” Dean scoffed, “Chicago is in the heartland, the Midwest. Everything a big city has to offer with access to wide open spaces. Way better than this uptight sand bar.”

“Is that so? Then what’s a guy like you doing slumming it around the boroughs? Cruising for a mate?”

“Nah, I just got lucky.” Dean plopped down to sit beside her on the bed and kissed her loudly. “I travel a lot for work. I’m in New York once a month or so.”

“Will you come back more now?” She asked hopefully, the thought of only seeing him once a month had her heart twisting.

“Well, I thought that you’d come back with me. You know, live with me in Chicago.” Seeing her face fall, he rushed to reassure her, hoping that he wasn’t bungling things too much. “I’m sure you will need some time to get things tied up here, but I want you with me ‘Mega. And we can come back as often as you like.”

“Why don’t you move here with me?”

Dean nearly scoffed, but the earnest look in her eyes suggested a softer approach might be better. “Sweetheart, my business is in Chicago. I make a good living, an excellent living actually. I have an apartment there along with some property in the country. I’ll take good care of you; you won’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

She raised her chin to look Dean square in the eye, “My business is in New York. I make an excellent living and I own a beautiful Brownstone on the upper east side. I don’t have a country cottage, but I’m willing to work that into our negotiations.”

“Negotiations?!” He sat back with a laugh, “You are something else, you know that? Omegas don’t negotiate living arrangements with their Alphas.”

She leveled her gaze, “Yours does.”

His mate wasn’t one to give in easily, and he loved that about her. Her spirit. Her fight. She challenged him, made him earn her submission. Made him prove he was worthy of her. He was happy to oblige her.

He leaned in close, his mouth centimeters from hers but not touching. He ghosted over, getting tantalizingly close but never making contact. Catching on, she let him edge her backwards on the bed. It was one of those games teenagers play, like there’s an invisible barrier around their bodies that allow them to get close but never touch. They moved in tandem, he filled up space she had occupied only moments before. She retreated as he advanced.

Dean’s movements were sleek and slow, like a panther. He never stopped his progression, never broke contact with her gaze. He watched with hooded eyes as the glint of rebellion gave over to something softer.

He hovered over her body only a hair’s breadth away, his grin was predatory, “Lucky for you, I’m an expert negotiator.”

Emma struggled to keep her thoughts orderly. It was growing increasingly difficult as her mate hovered above her. His scent surrounded her, his arms and legs caging her in. He was everywhere and she could feel herself start to float on that heady, seductive cloud. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. Nowhere in the whole world felt as good, as right, as being with him.

It wasn’t until he saw her eyes flutter shut that he broke that invisible barrier between them. His nose brushed the claiming mark and inhaled deeply before moving on to the spot just behind her ear. It was one of her favorites and he had discovered just how sensitive it was over the past few days.

When he nuzzled her then nipped, she moaned and brought her fingers up to comb through his hair still damp from the shower. “Mmm… you make a valid point.”

He chuckled as he continued his assault. Moving down the graceful column of her neck, he sampled silky skin.

“I have an idea,” she said as Dean made his way to the zipper of her hoodie and started to ease it down. When he didn’t reply but moved his fingers moved to her waistband, she gave a sharp tug on the short hairs at the base of his skull.

“Agh!” He grunted as she wiggled out from under him. With a pained sigh and a semi hard erection, he propped himself up on one elbow. “Better watch it, Sweetheart. You know I like it rough.”

Emma sat up, regal as a queen. Determined to get back to business. “I think we should date.”

“Date,” he repeated. “We’re mated. We’ve spent the last five days claiming each other in every way possible. Don’t you think we’re a little past the dating phase?”

A worried frown creased her brow, “You don’t want to date me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know it’s a little… backwards, but so what? Why should we do things the way other people do?” She gave a shy smile as she appealed to him. “I want to get to know you.”

He sat himself up completely and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “We are going to spend the rest of our lives getting to know each other.”

He instead of reassuring her, he felt her pull away. He felt like kicking himself, somehow, he’d managed to say something wrong. He crooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. There was disappointment there, “It means that much to you?”

“Well, I thought it would be fun and I… I’ve never dated before. Not really, anyway.” She replied, struggling to keep embarrassment from coloring her voice.

Dean couldn’t help being surprised. Shocked. She was a beautiful woman, stunning actually. He had no doubt that his pretty little Omega had turned heads from an early age. She was so smart and fun and sexy, it seemed impossible that no one had ever tried to date her. Although the very thought had his possessive Alpha jealousy flaring.

“Never? No boyfriend ever?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. One of her more noticeable nervous tells. “No, not really. I mean, I’ve gone on a few dates but there was never anyone special.”

“Does this have to do with those black-market suppressants you were taking?”

“They weren’t black-market,” she countered, “I wasn’t getting shot up in back alleys, I was under a doctor’s care.”

“Oh, you mean that gargoyle that showed up? That guy was a dick, he had the bedside manner of a cab driver!”

“What he lacks in congeniality he makes up for in discretion.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest defensively. She wasn’t accustomed to defending her actions to anyone, especially regarding her presentation treatments. It was a well-guarded family secret, discussing it with anyone else made her very uneasy. Even if that person was her Alpha, the one person meant to protect her.

“Being an Omega is nothing but a liability, it’s a weakness. This city is full of Alphas who think they can drag me back to their cave by my ponytail. Or boss me around because the world order says they should be in charge of everything!”

Frustrated, she blinked back the stinging in her eyes. Tears that threatened to fall only seemed to undermine her point. Usually, she had a tight rein on her emotions but ever since being claimed, they refused to stay where she put them. They were like a storm she was constantly trying to keep from breaking through.

“I just wanted to live my life without having to worry that my presentation would get me overlooked for a promotion or kidnapped by a rut-crazed Alpha.”

Dean hated the fear and stress he felt from her. Her eyes bright with unshed tears. He knew the world wasn’t an easy place for Omegas. Emma certainly wasn’t alone in her feelings on the matter and many others had taken the same route. Suppressants and scent blockers were a common and safe method for most people who wanted a bit of anonymity.

“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, taking both of her hands in his. Reveling in how delicate they seemed compared to his. How easily they could be bruised or broken. “There’s nothing wrong with Omegas using suppressants. Hell, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably do the same thing. It’s just that reaction you had, you were so cold. I thought I was going to lose you. I’ve never been that scared. And then that creepy doctor… acting like he didn’t care if you lived or died. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”

Emma leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. “I know. I’m sorry Dean, it’s my fault. I knew better, I just got caught up. And then when my heat started, I couldn’t think straight.”

“It’s understandable. I did kind of sweep you off your feet.”

“You did,” she smiled softly. “That’s why I had only been with Betas before.”

Dean pulled back and looked at her with curiosity, “So you’ve never been with an Alpha before me?”

“No.”

His grin was instant and cocky as his chest puffed out. “Good.”

She rolled her eyes, “Shut up.”

He laughed and pulled her onto his lap, tucking her head under his chin. She fit there so perfectly; Dean knew he would never grow tired of holding her. Leaving New York without her, would likely be one of the hardest things he would ever do. He took a deep inhale of her sweet scent and groaned. “Okay Sweetheart, you win. Let’s date.”

Emma drew back and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, “Really?”

“Hell, why not!”

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with such enthusiasm that he nearly toppled backwards. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Just you wait,” he muttered through their joined lips, “I’ve got all kinds of romantic cards up my sleeve.”

When her face lit up Dean felt his heart swell. Yeah, being separated for any amount of time would be torture, but worth it if it made her so happy.

She eyed him with suspicion. “You aren’t just giving me my way because I cried, are you?”

“I hate seeing you cry, but no. You made a valid point. It’ll take us time to get everything figured out, why not have some fun while we’re at it?”

The dimple in her left cheek appeared and her eyes sparkled with the smile that bloomed. She was practically glowing with excitement and hope. Shining like the sun, the new center of his universe. His whole future held in his arms.

#alpha!dean x omega!reader #alpha!dean winchester #a/b/o #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #Jensen x ofc #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #Dean x ofc #a/b/o smut #spn fic #supernatural #To The Victor

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hoziernaturalevents · 1 year

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Meet the 2023 Hoziernatural Participants (post 2 of 6)!

@deanabean

Role(s): Author Here’s an example of their work: In the low lamp light (1,568 words) Rating: Mature Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Some Relevant Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling

@deancodedcastielenby

Role(s): Artist Here are some examples of their work: untitled compilation (art) Rating: Slightly NSFW Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Some Relevant Tags: Kissing, Dean in Drag, Group Photo Faith and Magic (art) Rating: SFW Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Some Relevant Tags: Tattoos, Wings

@destielyuri

Role(s): Author, Beta Reader Here’s an example of their work: just like his mother (3,032 words) Rating: Mature Relationships: Dean Winchester/John Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Some Relevant Tags: Pre-Canon, Parent/Child Incest, Dubious Consent, Coming of Age, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester’s Parent, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting

@entropic-saudade

Role(s): Author, Beta Reader Here’s an example of their work: I know your fingernails are the color of rust (come back) (1,872 words) Rating: Teen and Up Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Some Relevant Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Nightmares, Hurt/Comfort, Found Family

@gen-spn

Role(s): Author, Beta Reader Here's an example of her work: Soft Like a Blue Triceratops (67,158 words) Rating: Teen & Up Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Some relevant tags: Sam-Winchester-centric, Alternate Season 9, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Sam Winchester Has Powers, Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending

@grim-work

Role(s): Author Here’s an example of her work: The Nature of the Beast (9,581 words) Rating: Teen and Up Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, John Winchester & Sam Winchester Some Relevant Tags: OCD Sam Winchester, Childhood Trauma, Non-Linear Narrative, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Season 06, Religious Guilt

#hoziernatural #hmsb 23 #hoziernatural multi-ship bang #spn #spn events #meet the participants

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ao3feed-destiel-02 · 6 months

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Two Worlds Apart

Two Worlds Apart https://ift.tt/OMj6nck by destielpirate After being injured in a car accident and suffering memory loss, Dean spent the last five years attempting to put his life back together. The majority of his memories return, but something still remains missing—something he can't identify—that everyone is hiding from him, something that always remains unanswered. Dean’s past comes back to haunt him when he visits Sioux falls for a business meeting where he meets a stranger named Castiel. Something about the man seems strange and oddly familiar which makes Dean wonder if he knows him. But the guy always denies that. And that marks the beginning of a quest to solve the mystery of his past hidden in between those recurring dreams which becomes more vivid the more time he spends with Castiel which soon leads to a painful realisation and series of regrets. Words: 70223, Chapters: 12/12, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: M/M Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Charlie Bradbury, Jessica Moore (Supernatural), Crowley (Supernatural), John Winchester Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Mutual Pining, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Amnesiac Dean Winchester, Mysterious Castiel (Supernatural), Memory Loss, Past Castiel/Dean Winchester, Starting Over, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Dreams and Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Read at Your Own Risk, Falling In Love, Again, Idiots in Love, Meet-Cute, Dark fic via AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester' https://ift.tt/J7lNkBd October 30, 2023 at 08:04AM

#IFTTT #AO3 works tagged 'Castiel/Dean Winchester'#Destiel #ao3feed #ao3feed Destiel #Destiel fanfic #Dean Winchester/Castiel #Castiel/Dean Winchester #Dean x Castiel #Castiel x Dean

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ladylilithprime · 1 year

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Heart Thrown Open Wide

Series: Fluff Is My Jamstiel

Fandom: Supernatural:

Pairing: proto-Sastimmy/Jamstiel (Jimmy Novak/Sam Winchester/Castiel)

Rating: Teen and Up

Tags/Warnings: Witch Sam Winchester, Hunter Novak Brothers, Jimmy and Castiel Are Twins, Brief Allusions to Canon-Typical Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Family Tensions, Stages of Grief, Moose Bucket Warning

Summary: The day of the funeral for Tyson Brady dawned clear, but as friends and family spoke and memories were shared the rains still came. That was okay. Rain just helps the garden grow stronger.

For: @fluffyfebruary challenge!

Prompt: Day 22: Remember

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THE DAY OF Tyson Brady's funeral dawned clear, and John Castiel Novak couldn't help but be grateful for that. For all it was said that rain at a funeral was fitting, when the funeral in question involved planting a young tree with a mix of plant nutrients, blood meal, and the cremated ashes of the deceased, it was honestly better for the rain to hold off until afterwards.

"We would have made do even if it did rain," Jessica Moore pointed out with a shrug of one shoulder when he happened to voice those thoughts in the little chapel where the service was to be held. "After all, it behooves us as Brady's friends and family to persevere for his sake, even in the face of adversity."

That last was a rather pointed dig at the sour-faced middle-aged woman with badly dyed blonde hair that stood against one wall next to a solemn-faced man with steel gray hair. She was frowning in disapproval at everyone else in the chapel, and her frown morphed into a scowl at Jessica's words. The man beside her, apparently sensing his wife's displeasure, put a calming hand on her shoulder. Cas could only assume they must be Tyson Brady's parents, an assumption that bore out when the caretaker for the chapel called everyone to be seated and the couple moved to the front to sit in the pew opposite where Brady's friends were arranging themselves.

Cas joined his twin brother Jimmy in sitting on the friends' side of the chapel, placing themselves at the back of one Sam Wesson who sat between Jessica and her husband on one side and Dean Smith on the other. Cas saw Jessica squeeze Sam's hand briefly before the pale young man stood and moved to the lectern that had been positioned to one side of the cloth-draped altar on which an unglazed ceramic urn sat amid an arrangement of calla lilies and juniper branches.

"Good morning," Sam began, swallowing a little when his voice broke on the words. He cleared his throat and this time when he spoke his voice came out stronger, sounding calm and collected despite the slip of composure. "Thank you all for coming today, to join with us in celebrating the life of Tyson Sebastian Brady. We have all known Brady at different points in his life, some since the beginning, others coming to know him later on, and all of us will have our memories of Brady, of insights into his life and who he was as a son, a friend, a brother, a student, and a person.

"Our program this morning will have three speakers from different stages of Brady's life, followed by hearing one of Brady's favorite songs as we sit in quiet reflection and prayer before adjourning to the reception and the interment of Brady's ashes as per Brady's wishes stated in his last will and testament."

Brady's mother made a disagreeable sound, but quieted when every eye in the chapel turned a disapproving stare on her. Every eye but Sam's, who only looked at the woman with a sorrowful compassion before shifting his gaze to the man at her side.

"For our first speaker, Reverend Hiram Brady, Tyson's father," he intoned, nodding to the man who nodded back and stood, taking up position at the lectern while Sam moved to sit down.

Reverend Brady spoke of a young Tyson, a curious and compassionate child who always wanted to help people, whether it was other kids on the playground or hurt animals found on the side of the road. He spoke of a boy of faith who grew into a young man whose faith remained steadfast even as the focus shifted, concluding that in retrospect it was only fitting that a boy who once professed a desire to heal the world would seek to go into medicine as an adult, and his persistence in that goal even over the objections of those who might have once thought they knew better. As he finished, he took an envelope from the inner pocket of his suit jacket and held it up in offering to the urn on the altar.

"Your scores from your last exam, son," he said, his own voice breaking a little. "You pushed yourself further than anyone could have expected of you, and you earned your top spot. We may not always have been able to say it to your face, but you always made your mother and I very proud to be your parents and to have you as our son."

Reverend Brady laid the envelope on the altar and then moved to rejoin his wife, who was no longer scowling but instead sobbing quietly. She turned her face into his chest when he sat beside her, and Cas turned his attention back to Sam to allow her grief its due privacy.

"Thank you, Reverend Brady," Sam nodded to the couple before taking a deep breath. "Our next speaker is one of Tyson Brady's long-time friends from Stanford, Jessica Moore."

Max kissed his wife on her cheek as she got up and traded places with Sam, squeezing his hand as they parted and she stood, staring down at the lectern for a few seconds, clearly wrestling with herself. Cas remembered the anger she had spoken of Brady with the day before and he had a feeling that her own grief was probably nearer the surface than she wanted to admit.

When she began to speak, her voice was quiet, controlled, and measured. She spoke of Brady the student, participating in class discussions and group projects with an easy charisma and encouraging others to do their part. She spoke of Brady the friend who saw fellow students who were maybe a little too quiet, a little too uncertain of themselves, and pulled them into his orbit and helped them blossom and find their social footing. She spoke briefly of an incident over one Thanksgiving that had left Brady shaken to the core and how he had to be coaxed back out again by the same friends whom he had spent time bolstering, being comforted and bolstered in his turn. She mentioned her marriage, how Brady had stepped up to be Best Man for her husband when she won the coin toss for which of them got Sam, and how Brady always welcomed every new addition to their friend network with compassion and kindness. Cas traded a glance with Jimmy, both of them hearing the undercurrent of something else there that was being talked around, and making a mental note to carefully probe into that at a later time.

Then Jessica spoke of the birth of her first child, the worries of a first-time mother who had no idea what to expect and Brady's thorough research into all of the different possibilities and probabilities for what could happen which he then compared to her actual charts to reassure her. She spoke of the actual birth, the nerve wracking hours spent in labor, and the relief for everyone once she got to hold her little girl for the first time, and how Brady was fourth in line to hold her after her husband and her daughter's godfather. She gently teased Sam about how nervous he had been accepting the role of godfather to her daughter, and how Brady had jokingly assured him that he would take the next one so as to reduce the pressure on his best friend.

Cas felt his stomach drop when Jessica opened up the clutch purse she had brought up and pulled out a small white square with a grainy black and white image. From across the aisle, there was a louder sob, but he couldn't look away from Jessica as she swallowed, reaching up to wipe beneath her eyes with a tissue.

"This is an awful way to announce I'm pregnant again," she said, the joking tone wavering under the threat of her tears. She held up the ultrasound photo and faced the altar. "This was supposed to be your godchild, you asshole. Now they'll just have to be your namesake, and you can't stop me."

"She's gonna make me be godfather again, isn't she," Cas heard Sam whisper to Max, who hummed an agreement and reached over to pat Sam on the knee before nudging him up. Jessica placed the ultrasound photograph on the altar and returned to her seat to settle against Max's side while Sam returned to the lectern.

"Thank you, Jess," Sam said after clearing his throat again. "And congratulations to you and Max for, as Brady would put it, another successful spawning attempt."

"Spawning attempt," Jimmy repeated under his breath beneath the cover of the smattering of laughter from the assembled that almost managed to drown out Mrs Brady's sobbing.

"They're a unique bunch," Cas murmured back dryly. He was still watching Sam, who stood waiting for everyone to settle down again.

"Brady's sense of humor, everyone," he said with a rueful little smile, before turning more serious. "Our third speaker requested not to be introduced by name since, as she put it, we aren't here for her, we're here for Brady. So... milady?"

Cas followed Sam's gaze over to the recessed alcove he hadn't actually noticed before. An olive-skinned woman with burnished golden hair braided up in a coronet around her head stepped out of the shadows. Her small hands clasped Sam's larger ones and they exchanged a few soft words that Cas thought might have been in Greek before Sam took his seat. The unnamed woman stepped up to the lectern and drew another envelope from somewhere in the folds of her dress.

"Good morning," she said to the assembled group, her voice soft and yet still carrying to everyone there easily. "I will not take your time up with my words. I am here to give you the words of Tyson Brady, the last words he wished to share with you, his friends and family, which he can no longer share with you himself. They are signed and sealed by his hand."

She showed the red wax seal on the back before using a fingernail to pry it up, breaking the seal. Then she opened the envelope and removed two sheets of paper which she unfolded and smoothed out on the lectern before lifting them to begin to read.

"'To all my friends and loved ones who could be here,'" she began. "'If you're reading this, then I'm no longer among the living. I can't say how it happened, but chances are it was because I was an idiot for some reason. No one better be blaming yourselves or each other for my death, either, because if I'm actually gone now then it was just my time to go.'

"'Time is a funny thing. I never really talked about this with any of you because I didn't know how to say it without sounding either crazy or fatalistic, but for the last several years I've felt like I've been living on borrowed time. Thing is, it was very literally borrowed time. That Thanksgiving I went home... when we had that blowout fight where Mom accused me of being corrupted by the devil. It wasn't the devil, Mom. It was a demon.'"

Cas fumbled for Jimmy's hand and found his brother's fingers seeking him. They gripped each other's hands tightly as they sat listening, stunned.

"'All the prayers and crosses couldn't stop the demon from jamming itself down my throat, making me say those awful things to you both that we're still trying to find a way to heal and move on from. I know I hurt you both a lot that night, and I'm sorry I couldn't stop it. It wasn't God who saved me from that, though. It was Sam.'"

"Damn it, Brady...." Cas thought he heard Sam whisper, but his head was bowed and Smith had a hand on his shoulder.

"'Sam did what prayers couldn't do,'" the woman continued to read. "'He refused to give up on me, no matter what the demon said, and in the end he saved my life. All the time I've lived since that moment, I owe to you, Sam. You always refused to let me thank you before, well, you can't stop me now. I never told you what all the demon said and did while it had me tied up riding shotgun in my body until you pulled it out and gave me back the keys, and I guess now I'll be taking most of it to the afterlife with me.'

"'All I wanted in my life was to help and take care of others. I know that made it really hard on others to take care of me, but I can't stop you from taking care of me now. I've put in my will that I want to be cremated and my ashes buried under the roots of a new tree. I want you to pick a tree for me, Sam. I know you'll pick a good one, a tree that really says 'Tyson Sebastian Brady', and I know you won't let my parents bully you into letting them plant me in a box in some cemetery without one.'"

"It would serve him right if you planted him under a fig tree," Jess muttered to Sam, making him snort softly. The woman up at the lectern slanted an amused look at them both before shifting the pages to continue.

"'So this is it,'" she read out solemnly. "'The last call for Tyson Brady. We had a good run, if a bit shorter than any of us might've hoped, and our Lady willing we'll see each other again eventually. No hurry, though. I want you all to live long and happy lives with lots of fun and shared joys that you can tell me all about when you get here. All the sorrows, too. After all, it's okay if rain falls, 'cause that just makes the garden grow stronger.'

"'Take care of each other, since I'm not there to do it anymore. I love you all.'

"The letter is signed 'Tyson Sebastian Brady, MD-presumptive'," she concluded, shuffling the papers and folding them again. She slipped them into the envelope and laid them on the altar next to the exam results and the ultrasound photograph, then raised her hand and moved it in an odd gesture over the urn before turning and nodding to Sam. Sam nodded back and stood, moving to the lectern as the woman went, not back to the recessed alcove, but up the aisle to take a seat in the pew next to Cas and Jimmy directly behind Smith.

"Thank you," Sam nodded to her again, once again not naming her, and receiving a nod in return. "And now for a moment of reflection as we hear the song chosen by Brady and noted in his will as his preferred send off. Once again, please remember, Brady's sense of humor."

Sam reached behind him to the stereo set-up and pressed a couple of buttons. For a moment there was silence, and then a series of all-too-familiar synth beats split the quiet. Cas found himself choking on laughter, leaning against an equally amused Jimmy, as the chapel was filled with jeers, guffaws, and the sounds of an eighties pop hit no one could forget.

We're no strangers to lo~ove~!

#supernatural fic #fluffyfebruary2023 #sam winchester #jimmy novak #castiel #jessica moore #tyson brady

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sarcasticsciencefictionwriter · 9 months

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Chapter three is now up!!

Chapters: 3/?

Fandoms: Sanctuary (Canada TV 2008)

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Relationships: Helen Magnus/Nikola Tesla

Characters: Helen Magnus, Nikola Tesla, James Watson, John Druitt, Nigel Griffin, Afina

Additional Tags: AU, kind of slow burn, Adventure, Romance, Drama, Vampires, Friendship, Nikola being Nikola, the crossover no one asked for, Sanctuary and Howl's Moving Castle, Cheerfully Ignores Real English Geography, Humor with a Dash of Hurt/Comfort/Angst, Science not Magic, Room mates of a Sort

Summary:

Helen works in her father's clinic for abnormals in the English countryside, training to be a doctor. After her father disappears and the queen of the vampires targets her, Helen leaves home to protect her remaining loved ones. The castle that travels the moors and fields seems like a good place to take refuge and she soon meets the mysterious inventor that calls it home.

#sanctuary #helen magnus #nikola tesla #teslen #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #ao3

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celluloidandthecity · 1 year

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On Roman Polanski's Macbeth (1971)

A box office bomb on its release, Roman Polanski's 1971 adaptation of William Shakespeare's classic tragedy Macbeth has deservedly undergone a reappraisal in recent years.

It was equally cursed and blessed by the benevolence of Hugh Hefner's Playboy Productions, who funded the movie when Paramount, Universal and MGM passed. Without the funding, the film wouldn't have been made. With it, much bad press was focused on the film's 'nudity and graphic violence', seemingly influenced by the perceived proclivities of Hefner himself.

The production was beset by production issues, with the British weather, and even more so by the petulance of its director. Polanski at this point in his career was highly marketable, with the successes of Repulsion and Rosemary's Baby under his belt. Which in no way helped mitigate his highly demanding behaviour on set. At one point financiers insisted that he be fired, not least because the film was over-budget, requiring both Polanski and Hefner to top up the pot and get the thing completed.

In my own personal opinion, I'm glad that the film has enjoyed a critical appraisal. Because I think it is a minor masterpiece. The casting - with Jon Finch and Francesca Annis playing against the historical norm as a younger and beautiful couple - is inspired. It feels new, yet acutely traditional. It's wonderful to look at. And the set pieces - far from being gratuitously violent - are appropriate.

Critics have made a lot of Macbeth being the first film Polanski directed after the brutal murder of his wife Sharon Tate in 1969. And it is definitely worth giving a thought to how his first-hand experience of this brutality fed into his depiction of Duncan's murder. It remains, to me, an important film and one unfairly diminished in the canon of adaptations of the works of William Shakespeare.

After the commercial failure of Macbeth, Polanski rose to the top again with the classic Chinatown (1974). In 1977 his career suffered a dramatic blow when he was arrested and charged with drugging and raping a 13 year old girl. He fled to Paris and remains a fugitive from the American justice system. Which has in no way affected his ability to direct critically acclaimed films such as Tess (1979) and The Pianist (2022). Considered as problematic by some as shamed director Woody Allen, actions in his private life continue to dominate the minds of many, to the detriment of his creative output.

Along with Francesca Annis, Jon Finch's youth and beauty (he was 29, she was 26 at the time of filming), shook up how the doomed Macbeth and his wife were depicted for a generation. The exceedingly private actor - the son of a merchant banker from Sussex - was in the right place at the right time, meeting Roman Polanski on a plane when the director was in the process of casting the movie.

Finch had played in amateur stage productions, television and in two Hammer horror movies, but Macbeth was his breakout role. Though a great career beckoned Finch's wasn't a life of much ambition, with the actor himself stating that he made a film a year to enable himself to live comfortably. He worked with Alfred Hitchcock on Frenzy (1972) but had to resign from Alien (he was originally cast in John Hurt's role) due to illness and turned down the role of James Bond, which later went to Roger Moore. He married actress Catriona MacColl in the 1980s, but they later divorced after five years of marriage, Finch later had a daughter from another relationship. His final film role was the Catholic Patriarch of Jerusalem in Ridley Scott's Kingdom of Heaven (2005). Jon Finch passed away in 2012.

An actress from her teens, Annis raised eyebrows with her 'naked sleepwalking' scene in Macbeth. She went from strength to strength after working with Polanski, with a stellar range of roles encompassing stage, film and television.

It would be great to know whether there are outtakes or other behind the scenes footage of Macbeth and this could be released along with a director's cut. I'd watch the hell out of it all.

#macbeth #shakespeare #movies #film #jon finch

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ao3feed-destiel · 2 years

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same as it was

Read it on AO3 here!https://ift.tt/2HihGEl

by IcarusPendragon

Sam notices the moving truck first. It’s oppressively hot despite it being early in the day. August in Alabama is not something Dean has been able to get used to, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever get used to it. The air is thick, stagnant. Cicadas are humming somewhere hidden. Their song serves as the soundtrack for long days and flirting with heat exhaustion. Dean wipes the sweat threatening to drip into his eyes with the back of his hand before extracting himself from under the Impala’s hood. He fishes his phone out of his back pocket to pause the music coming from the Bluetooth speaker near his feet. His eyes slide to the long unoccupied house next door. There’s a U-Haul parked out front, its arrival concealed by the Creedence Clearwater Revival that had been playing moments before.

Or; you can run, but you can’t hide forever

Words: 3280, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Ash (Supernatural), Gabriel (Supernatural), Balthazar (Supernatural), Anna Milton, Charlie Bradbury

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, also technically a college au as cas is a college student, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, John Winchester’s A+ parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Station Wagon Slander, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Pining, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel (Supernatural), Drinking, Castiel Has Secrets (Supernatural), Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Mental Health Issues, Family Issues All Around, this isn’t as dark as it looks I promise, these boys just didn’t have great childhoods ya know?, Falling In Love, idiots to lovers, oh my god they were neighbors, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Link: https://ift.tt/2HihGEl

#ao3feed #ao3feed destiel #destiel

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ao3feeddestiel · 9 days

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Never left Stanford

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/rA6IFVz by I_do_what_i_want_001 What if Sam hadn't left Stanford. What if He refused to help Dean? Words: 667, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Series: Part 1 of WHAT IF Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Major Character Death Categories: F/M, M/M, Other Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), John Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural), Jessica Moore (Supernatural), Real Tyson Brady, Demon Possessing Tyson Brady Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Hurt, Emotional Hurt, Angst with a Happy Ending, Happy Ending, Eventual Happy Ending, Happy Sex, Sad and Happy read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/rA6IFVz

#IFTTT #Never left Stanford #I_do_what_i_want_001

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ao3feed-petermj · 4 months

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The Black Sisters and the Supernatural Multiverse Volume 1: A Bennett Witchs Stone

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/4XjKnDi by YeahiWriteCrossovers This tale follows a set of triplets and their friends on an adventure to find out their lineage, and unveil stowed away family secrets. ELENA GILBERT In Mystic Falls, a small town in Queens… a fateful encounter flips 21 year old Elena’s life upside down the night she leaves Stefan. Now she and her friend, MJ, are consumed by the mystery of the local night time vigilante/hero. PHINOA BLACK Meanwhile, Phinoa Black’s sick inferius uncle is barely kept alive by a family crest. Phinoa, with an affinity for potions and a taste for dark magic, is searching for a way to help him. She will stop at nothing to find a cure and she can’t afford distractions… not even from the redheaded rebel, or a forbidden friend of the family. MELISSA HARVELLE All Melissa wants is to live a normal life. But she is suffocated by mysterious letters flooding her home that she tries to ignore, and the face of a couple that haunts her dreams. She finally breaks and flees to save the life of the woman destined to die, presuming the dreams are so she can save her. Eventually each sister comes to realize they have family out there. What happens when the three sisters finally meet? Words: 6246, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005), The Vampire Diaries (TV), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Relationships: Elena Gilbert/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Michelle Jones/Elena Gilbert, Fred Weasley/Blaise Zabini, Fred Weasley/Original Female Character(s), Blaise Zabini/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Bonnie Bennett/PansyParkinson, Bonnie Bennett/Astoria Greengrass, Astoria Greengrass/Pansy Parkinson, Castiel/Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester Additional Tags: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Hogwarts is a College | University, Aged-Up Character(s), Obviously it’s a college, friends-to-lovers, Rivals to Lovers, Lukewarm enemies to lovers (its very one sided), Forbidden Love, Secret Relationship, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Touch-Starved, Sharing a Bed, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Overuse of pet names, Idiots in Love, initially unrequited love, Emotional Rollercoaster, Fred Weasley Lives, Slytherin Harry Potter, Theodore Nott is a little shit, BAMF Elena Gilbert, Ravenclaw Hermione Granger, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, Severus Snape A+ parenting, POV Third Person, multiple POVs, John Winchester Bashing, Love Confessions, okay now that you have the good news it’s time for the bad news, angst angst angst, Heavy Themes, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, There are some noncon elements that are mentioned because they need to be ADDRESSED, Seriously things are addressed, also there are multiple wars happening as this series progresses, the villains are actually vaillains, like seriously people will lose limbs, Death, War, Blood and Violence, canon typical torture, think supernatural, think Harry Potter forbidden curses, PTSD, Survivors Guilt, Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, seriously we killed it with our bare hands read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/4XjKnDi

#spideychelle #PeterMJ #petermjane

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samjesswinchester · 2 years

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AFTER A LONG BREAK A NEW CHAPTER IS OUT (hopefully with more on the way!)

Chapters: 17/? Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death Relationships: Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Jessica Moore, Castiel & Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore & Everyone, Sam Winchester & Everyone Characters: Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural), Original Supernatural (TV) Character(s), Bobby Singer, Real Tyson Brady, Luis (Supernatural: Pilot) Additional Tags: Love at First Sight, Pre-Canon, Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore Lives, Hurt/Comfort, emotional af, Soulmates, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Character Death, Eventual Happy Ending, Complicated Relationships Summary:

What if Sam Winchester's psychic abilities had developed to be just a *bit* stronger by November 2, 2005? What if he made it back to his Stanford apartment in time to save the love of his life, Jessica Moore? This is the story where their love survives that night...will it be able to endure?

#supernatural #sam winchester #Jessica moore #dean winchester #cas #castiel #Bobby singer #john winchester #mary winchester #fluff #plot #chapter #fanfic #fan fiction #spn #spn fan fic #spn fandom #hurt/comfort #long reads

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ao3feed-gadreel · 1 year

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Baby I Have You!

by piebaby

Castiel Novak manages the Harrison Garrison for Littles. He hasn’t found his child yet, but he waits for the sign while attempting to run the six pods with his brothers and sisters and a large staff.

When Samuel Winchester brings a mistreated child to his center and abandons him, he has a flash of realization that not only is Dean out there somewhere lost and alone, but Dean is his baby.

Castiel searches for Dean, and when he finds him, he is completely overcome, while Dean is obstinate and eager to retaliate against his brother and father.

Castiel learns that Dean’s past may cause problems for them, and it’s just a matter of time before they’re all in jeopardy.

Words: 2977, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Supernatural (TV 2005)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Castiel (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Michael (Supernatural), Adam Milligan, Gabriel (Supernatural), Kali (Supernatural), Alastair (Supernatural), Lilith (Supernatural), Meg Masters, Crowley (Supernatural), Charlie Bradbury, Dorothy Baum, Aaron Bass, Gadreel (Supernatural), Jack Kline, Ambriel (Supernatural), Anna Milton, Jade, Jody Mills, Donna Hanscum, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Benny Lafitte, Andrea Kormos, Jessica Moore (Supernatural), Pamela Barnes (Supernatural), Kevin Tran (Supernatural), God | Chuck Shurley, Gordon Walker, Original Characters, Bobby Singer (Supernatural)

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Additional Tags: Regression, Non-Sexual Age Play, Diapers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Sleepy Cuddles, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hospitalization, Involuntary Regressions, Daddy Castiel, Angels are parents, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Hurt Dean Winchester, Abused Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Protective Angels (Supernatural), Cribs, Sleepy Dean, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Stuffed Toys, Adults babies, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Cheeky Dean Winchester, Little Charlie, Little Meg, Little Kali, Daddy Gabriel, Sad Sam Winchester, Daddy Crowley

Read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/gkxSI1E

#gadreel #spn fanfic #IFTTT #ao3feed #fanfic

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thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 1 year

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To The Victor Chapter One - Meeting

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!OFC, Dean x OFC, Dean Winchester x OFC

Characters: Dean Winchester, OFC, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, John Winchester, Jody Mills

Chapter One: Meeting Word Count: 4465

Masterlist

To The Victor Masterlist

It was autumn in New York City, one of those rare golden days where the sunlight reflected off the trees in a way that made the whole city glow. The leaves had turned colors but not yet dropped. The air was crisp and clear, making it perfect for strolling through the arts fair in downtown Manhattan. It was days like this that reminded locals why they put up with sky-high rent and never-ending winters.

Emma rarely had the time to treat herself to a leisurely afternoon in the city, but with her baby sister’s birthday coming up she needed to find something special. Jess was a bit of a bohemian, and something from a local artist would suit her eclectic tastes perfectly. She wove her way through the white tents, happily slurping her huge, iced coffee. Her earbuds canceled out the ambient noise from the city and her Jackie O styled sunglasses shielded nearly half of her face.

In her track suit and sneakers, no one would mistake her for the high-powered executive she was during her 80-hour work weeks. She was just twenty-three when she took control of her family’s company and quickly built a reputation as a shrewd businesswoman. By her twenty-seventh birthday she had improved profits enough to put them on the Fortune 500 list, making her one of the youngest female CEO’s to ever mark such an achievement.

Anyone observing her petite frame strolling down the street would likely have mistaken her for a college student. None of them would ever guess her best kept secret. Emmaline Beaumont, well-known, confident, ambitious woman in charge of everything was not the cutthroat Alpha she presented to the world. Emma was an Omega.

Omega. The very word was weak in Emma’s mind. Soft, compliant, obedient, submissive, and meek. Poor, little Omegas, incapable of looking after themselves; they couldn’t even tie their own shoes let alone hold positions of power. Not without an Alpha to guide them. The logical part of her knew there was no shame in being an Omega, but that didn’t stop the weight of disappointment she felt from her parents when she presented at sixteen.

The law had changed to grant the long-subjugated Omegas equal rights, but society was slow to catch up. Many Alphas still viewed Omegas as their property. George and Analise Beaumont wanted better for their daughter. They wanted her to have choices, to give her the opportunity to decide her own fate. There weren’t many doctors willing to engage in the legal grey area of hormone suppression and reassignment, but the Beaumonts found one. Doctor Lancaster was well compensated for his discretion. He kept Emma on closely monitored hormone therapy that caused her heat cycles to stop and altered her scent to fool even the most virile Alpha.

So long as she kept her mating encounters to Betas only and followed the doctor’s strict instructions, Emma could live her life as an Alpha. Large and in charge. Head of her family’s company, smart and strong enough to defend it against any threat. No one would be the wiser. The family secret kept only by her sister and Doctor Lancaster now that her parents were gone.

There was, of course, one exception that could overcome the medical science and the years of careful planning. True mates. Mostly considered folklore and fairy tales, few people believed in them these days. She had never seen a real-life example of it personally, but she liked to hope. It would never be in the cards for her, but why should others be denied a chance at that kind of happiness?

Emma stopped in front of a display of blown glass globes. A kaleidoscope of colors and sizes. Witches Balls: hang in your window to ward off evil spirits and bad fortune. A smile curved her lips, her little sister was into all kinds of magical stuff. Jess had carried a deck of tarot cards in her purse and stuffed crystals down her bra since she was a teenager. She lived her life with her head in the clouds, dreaming romantic notions and looking for signs from the universe. If Stevie Nicks had a doppelganger that was nearly six foot tall and in her early twenties, that would be Jessica Beaumont. She would probably be reading palms in San Francisco if Emma hadn’t put her to work in the marketing department of Beaumont Enterprises. The Beaumont sisters were as different as night and day, both in looks and in disposition. But that didn’t stop them from being best friends.

She was contemplating the selection when she was hit by the most intense, indescribable feeling. It was as if all the oxygen left the atmosphere, making it impossible to breathe. Every nerve in her body was vibrating with awareness, like a plucked guitar string. Her skin erupted in goosebumps. The air was electric, super charged. She looked around and was frankly shocked no one else seemed to notice it. It wasn’t until the cramp ripped through her stomach that she recognized it. It had been over a decade since she’d experienced it. She was in heat!

Oh God, this is all wrong! This is bad, very, very bad! Catastrophic! Fuck!

Emma was frantically fumbling through her purse to call her sister when another cramp tore through her. The force of it knocked her sideways, causing her sunglasses to clatter to the ground. She grabbed the display table to steady herself. Vaguely, she could hear people asking if she was alright, if she needed help. Emma couldn’t reply. Her body was no longer her own as the dormant Omega within stirred to life. Rational thought was lost to her, replaced by instinct. Her eyes desperately combed the crowd, searching for someone she didn’t know she had been missing. The scent hit first, the most perfect combination of sharp pine and leather held inside a cedar chest. Earthy, calming, and reminiscent of a home she’d never been to before. It soothed and aroused her at the same time.

When he suddenly appeared, it was as if time stopped. His very presence eclipsed everything. No one else existed, just him. The Alpha, her Alpha. Broad shoulders, narrow waist, long legs. Her heart sped up as he strode towards her, power and purpose in every step. The crowd of on-lookers parted, wisely giving him wide berth. Interfering with an Alpha seeking out a potential mate was dangerous under the best circumstances.

Lord, he’s tall. She realized when he came to stand before her. Maybe it was the hormones talking, but he was far and away the most attractive man she’d ever seen. Square jaw covered in a neatly trimmed beard and sculpted cheekbones dusted with faint freckles. But oh, his eyes. The most intense shade of clear green, framed by faint laugh lines. Delightful crinkles etched by smiling. He wasn’t smiling now, he looked like he wanted to devour her in the street. He closed his eyes briefly and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply.

When he opened his eyes again, they had darkened, his pupils blown with lust. His intoxicating scent swirled around her and when he spoke her entire body flushed hot with fever. “Omega.”

Dean hated New York City. It was overcrowded and overrated in his opinion. He much preferred the down to Earth, blue collar vibe of Chicago. There was just something about the Midwest that spoke to him. It wasn’t pretentious or pompous. It was real and it was home. Whenever he had to spend time in the Big Apple, he made sure to book a room with a decent view and access to Central Park. It was the only place in the whole damned city he felt he could breathe. It had been a hellishly long week of meetings and negotiations, but his perseverance and skill won out. Deals were struck, contracts signed, and he now was booked for the last flight into O’Hare. It left him just enough time to get in a decent run and a shower before he headed to the airport.

Not that he had to hurry home for anyone in particular. He had his family, of course. His father John retired a few years back when a heart attack sent him packing to a quiet house in the country. Dean had spent his life being groomed to take over Winchester Incorporated. Now, running the family business with his little brother Sam, he couldn’t imagine doing anything else. The Winchester name was famous and feared in the world of high finance. Yet for all of his professional success, Dean knew there was a part of his life that was unfulfilled. He had yet to take a mate, which was almost unheard of for an Alpha just one year shy of the big four oh. Alphas needed to claim a mate to avoid going feral. It was a very real possibility and Dean could feel the change already, his ruts were growing more intense and more frequent with each passing year.

But he was willing to risk it for a while longer, just to find her. His Omega, his true mate. The one woman meant especially for him. He knew it was a long shot, but he was a man to play the odds if it meant getting what he wanted. Dean had seen real love up close; his parents had been true mates. They had been perfect for each other and deeply in love, even after twenty years of marriage. It wasn’t long after his mother lost her battle with breast cancer that his father’s health declined. There was a part of Dean that wondered if losing his mate had brought it on.

So there is was. Dean Winchester; virile Alpha, ruthless businessman who dismantled companies and ruined rivals was in fact, a hopeless romantic.

He was three miles in and halfway through Led Zeppelin IV when he caught a scent that stopped him dead in his tracks. Light and sweet with a hint of tart, green apple. It wasn’t strong, but it was distinct. One of the reasons he found New York so stifling was the close quarters, it made for a strange mix of aromas, none of them complimentary or pleasant. Dean inhaled deeply and the Alpha inside growled in response. He spun on his heel and jogged off towards the source of that tantalizing smell. He wove his way through throngs of people, taking no notice of them, he was a man on a mission. The closer he got, the more desperate he became. He had to find her, claim her, his Omega. The scent was taunting him, it never got stronger but more complex. He could make out warm vanilla and flowers he couldn’t remember the name of, although he was certain his mother had them growing in the back garden when he was a child. It was the scent of home, his home. His Omega.

Dean would comb the entire city of New York on foot if he had to, he was nothing if not determined. A hunter to the last, never giving up until he found his prey. As fate would have it, he only had to travel five blocks. She stood completely still as people moved around her, staring at him with huge, wide eyes. Her long, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders, her mouth full and unpainted. He had always wondered who she would be, what she would look like, what she would feel like. Whatever image he had conjured up in mind over the years paled in comparison to the woman before him. To say she was beautiful didn’t come close to doing her justice. It was so much more than that and somehow simpler, she was perfect. She was his perfect mate, made for him as he was for her. The very thought of it settled him and sent his heart racing at the same time.

He didn’t remember those last few steps to reach her, suddenly she was there, right in front of him. He closed his eyes and inhaled, filling his lungs with the best scent in the world.

“Omega.”

“Alpha,” she breathed in response, then whimpered as another strong cramp took hold.

Oblivious to the crowd of strangers watching the intimate moment, Dean swept her up into his arms and took off at a steady clip towards his hotel. The Alpha was completely in charge now. He took no notice of the startled gasps or speculative glances of the people he passed as he carried her through the city streets. All he cared about was that he had his Omega, and she was in heat. Taking care of her was his only concern and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Emma wrapped her arms around the Alpha’s neck and held tight. She was grateful he was carrying her because the pain in her belly would have knocked her to her knees by now. It was white hot and twisted like an invisible knife. Although she only had one other heat cycle to compare this to, she was certain it hadn’t been this bad. Lord, she was hot! Like she was standing on the surface of the sun. Sweat soaked through her clothes and plastered them to her body. The only thing that gave any relief was the scent of her Alpha, she nuzzled into his neck as close as she could. It enveloped her in a delightful haze, clouding her mind.

“Hang on tight, Omega. I’m going to take care of you,” he rumbled deeply in her ear. “I’m going to take care of everything.”

His words sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine and caused slick at the juncture of her thighs. She squirmed slightly and boldly pressed her lips to his neck, nipping at the pulse hammering there. God, he tastes as good as he smells!

“Alpha,” she whispered, her voice pleading.

Dean tightened his grasp and quickened his pace. His mind barely registering that he had reached his hotel. He wasn’t due for a rut, but with his mate now in his arms, he was close enough. He paid no mind to the clerk at the front desk, heading straight for the elevator. When the stainless-steel doors opened revealing a wide-eyed Beta male in a tweed suit, Dean snarled in warning. No Alpha tolerates another male getting close to their Omega in heat, even if they pose no real threat. The Beta wisely held up his hands in surrender and quickly vacated the area.

Once Dean had them safely sealed inside the lift, he crushed his mouth to hers, sending fresh waves of desire through them both. Harsh and hurried, demanding and aggressive. What the kiss lacked in subtly, it more than made up for in passion. When he swept his hot tongue inside her mouth, she groaned in appreciation and need. He still could only catch the faint wisp of her delicate scent but smell of slick arousal was growing thicker by the second.

By the grace of God, he got them to his room without further interference. The door slammed shut and automatically locked behind them. Emma shifted in his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissed every inch of his skin she had access to. She felt drugged, high on the endorphins flooding her system. All thought and logic had gone, leaving pure instinct behind. She had never felt this way before, so consumed by the need to mate. Although she had only been with Betas, something told her that this response wasn’t just because he was an Alpha, it was because he was her Alpha. To her true mate, she was beginning to see what all the fuss was about. The pull was as strong as gravity and just as impossible to deny.

Dean carried her through to the bedroom and lowered her to the mattress. He hovered above her, taking a moment to gaze into the eyes of the woman he had search his whole life for. Blue eyes, dark as midnight and flecked with gold. Desire was there, of course. But there was a glint of challenge he hadn’t expected. Omegas were meant to submit to their Alphas. It was a dynamic as old as time and one he knew well. There was something wild in this Omega, something that begged to be tamed and Dean was up to the task. Oh, she was going to be fun!

He grinned, his white teeth gleaming as he made his way down her body. He refused to free her of her clothes, even though he was eager to see the Omega in all her glory, he waited. She was a gift he was determined to take his time enjoying it. Instead, he ran his hands over her slowly, inch by inch. Feeling her curves and concaves through the layers of cotton. He paused as his hands spanned her ribcage just under her breasts. When his thumb caressed her nipples through the fabric, she arched her back and moaned.

“Alpha, please.”

Ignoring her pleas, he tweaked the hardened peaks slightly before moving on. Narrow waist flared out into generous hips. Body like a backroad, he thought approvingly. His fingers traced her thighs, the back of her knees, down to delicate ankle bones. Her breath became more labored as he teased her, purposely ignored the one part of her anatomy that she most wanted attending to.

Emma was growing impatient and restless. The Omega was urgently mewing inside, searching for relief from the heat that was consuming her. He wanted her; she could feel it when the bulge in his pants brushed against her. What the hell is he waiting for?! Desperate to prompt him into giving her what she wanted, she bucked her hips. Hoping to tempt him with her slick.

In a flash, Dean was on top of her. His hands clamped her wrists down on either side of her head with bruising strength, his body pinned her to the mattress. She couldn’t move if she wanted to. “Now, now. None of that, little Omega,” he murmured into her ear. She groaned in response; her eyes fluttering shut.

Desperate for any sort of friction against her fevered body, Emma drew a deep breath, causing her ribs to expand. Her breasts strained inside her bra, pressing against the firm chest above her. She knew how to use her attributes to entice a mate and when the hungry growl sounded in the back of his throat, she knew she’d succeeded. She turned her mouth towards his but didn’t kiss him. Instead, she pouted prettily and breathed, “Alpha… need you.”

Dean didn’t miss the smirk that played around her lips, this was hardly a submission. She knew exactly what she was doing. Little minx! Fire sparked when her gaze met his, “You’re mine. Only mine.”

She wasn’t prepared for him to move so quickly and so smoothly. Suddenly, her hoodie was gone as well as the cotton camisole underneath. Even her bra was whisked away, leaving her exposed. She relished the cool air on her fevered skin only for a moment before the Alpha replaced it with his hot mouth. He was everywhere, testing and tasting every inch of vulnerable flesh. He traced a fiery path of open-mouthed kissed between her breasts all the way to her stomach. The scruff of his beard scraped in a way that was so pleasant and distracting that when he changed tactics and latched on to one her hardened nipples, she gasped in shock.

It was exquisite, leisurely torture that seemed to go on forever. Her Alpha was certainly not a man to be hurried. His attentions never wavered, no matter how she tried to tempt him and that only served to frustrate her. Stubborn man! He simply refused to go where she wanted him to. The slick was pooling now, no doubt soaking through everything as the burning in her belly grew. She was needy, frantic for his touch.

Suddenly, he brought his hand to cup her firmly through her pants. She arched against his palm, and it was his turn to smirk. He was definitely the one in control now. “There’s my good girl, so wet for me already.”

The rest of her clothes were torn away, leaving her naked and exposed while he was still fully clothed. The message was loud and clear. He was strong, powerful, and irrefutable. It was in Emma’s nature to resist anyone trying to control her. She played the part of Alpha every day. She knew what was expected of her in that role. Hell, she enjoyed it.

To now be the one expected to submit, was foreign and a bit scary. It was possible that after all this time, she didn’t know how to be an Omega. Maybe she had denied her true nature for too long, maybe she would be a disappointment.

However, there was one element that she had failed to consider. The Alpha would take care of her, that was his primary role. No one had ever done that for her before and the Omega inside craved it desperately.

She trembled slightly as Dean’s large, calloused hands roamed over her body. When his eyes searched hers, he saw a flicker of vulnerability. At last, the inner battle between her will and her desire was resolved, and she submitted.

“So beautiful, so perfect,” he praised as he slipped a thick finger inside her throbbing core, probing gently while his thumb rubbed circles around that tight bundle of nerves. He crooked his finger and her velvet walls tightened around him, coating his hand in fresh slick.

“I’m going to make you feel good, ‘Mega,” he kept his pace, adding a second finger while he nuzzled her throat. His tongue lapped at the juncture of her neck and shoulder where her scent gland was hidden just beneath the skin. He could feel her getting close as she fluttered around his fingers.

Every brush of his fingers lit fires. Every touch of his lips was like a brand on her skin. Emma writhed under his attentions, delicious tension building low in her belly. She was teetering on the edge, desperate for the release he was driving her towards. “Alpha…oh God…”

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he commanded, and she obeyed. The orgasm came hard and fast. Her body flooded with pleasure and any remaining pain was washed away. The intensity of it had her eyes rolling back in her head. She was still coming down from the euphoric cloud when she noticed he was now naked as well. Tanned skin stretched taut over well-defined muscles. Lord, he was big. Every part of him was big. Her gaze traveled over broad shoulders, powerful arms, wide chest, lean hips. The sheer size of his erection had her whimpering, greedy with need.

Dean was soon on top of her again, this time his hard length brushed against her folds while his breath was hot in her ear, “I’m going to knot you, ‘Mega mine. Knot you, claim you.” His teeth grazed her throat again, mixing danger and desire. “Is that what you want?”

Unable to find her voice, Emma raked her hands through his short hair and bucked up against him.

Not satisfied, he raised his head to look deeply into her eyes. His arms and legs creating a cage around her body. There would be no going back after this, he had to be sure for both their sakes. “Say it,” his command was gruff. “You have to say it, Omega.”

Perhaps it was the Omega within her responding to a direct command from an Alpha. In a surprising moment of clarity, she looked into the deep, green eyes of the man who had appeared out of the blue. The man whose voice had her shaking with need and whose touch brought her to oblivion. Logic, reason, common sense all seemed so insignificant, overshadowed by instinct. Everything was remarkably clear. “I want you. Claim me, I’m yours. Only yours.”

“My Omega. Mine,” he smiled softly and brushed his lips over hers so tenderly that when he stood up, she nearly cried out at the loss of contact.

“Present, Omega.”

Emma obeyed again, flipping over onto her knees and elbows, she arched her back and thrust her rear up towards him. She hissed as the cool air hit her hyper-sensitive core. His hands were on her again, caressing the curve of her ass, following the line of her hip. He lined himself up and filled her with one powerful thrust. She cried out then, it was sweet agony.

Dean stilled his movements, giving her a moment to adjust and giving himself a moment to breathe. Christ, she’s tight!

When she shifted her hips, he took that as his cue and began to pump. Slow at first, savoring each sensation, each gasp and moan of pleasure that came from them both as he filled her time and time again. Soon his control gave way all together and, in its place, he gained momentum. His knot swelled with each thrust and began to catch.

Dean sucked and licked furiously at the base of her neck, preparing the spot that would bear his mark. “You take my knot so good, ‘Mega… we’re almost there, almost there…”

Emma’s hand fisted the sheets as he picked up the pace, each time he buried himself to the hilt she cried out for more. Her experiences with Betas did little to prepare her for an Alpha. Dean was reaching places no one else had come close to. With each pass, she felt herself tighten around him. “Need it… Alpha… need your knot… need you…”

When Dean felt himself reach the peak he was striving towards, he sunk his teeth deep into her tender skin. His knot popped and locked them together as he came harder than he ever had in his life. Waves of blissful pleasure washed over him, and he lazily pumped a few more strokes to fully empty his seed into his Omega.

Emma nearly blacked out from the mix of sensations that rushed through her body when he claimed her. Pleasure so sharp it was painful. Her mind was a complete haze, barely registering the Alpha cradling her close as he eased them onto their sides. He ran his tongue over the fresh claim over and over again, the wet, warmth of it soothing the bite. Were she capable of coherent thought, she would have tried to fight sleep so not to miss a moment of this event that would change everything. As it was, exhaustion quickly pulled her under and she fell asleep feeling cherished and completely protected.

#alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean x omega!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jensen x reader #jensen x y/n #a/b/o #a/b/o smut #supernatural #spn fic #To The Victor #dean x ofc #Jensen x Ofc

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ladyknightskye · 1 year

Text

Endings and Beginnings

Prompt: Hurt/Comfort

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Jessica Moore

Warnings: Major Character Death

Written for @spnrareships Dean Winchester Rare Ships Week.

Read on AO3.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. It wasn’t supposed to end bloody and with him on the floor, looking up at his brother. It wasn’t supposed to end with Sam’s lifeless eyes staring at them, with Jessica sobbing her heart out in the dirt.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said softly, blood falling from his chin. “I’m so sorry. Take care of Jess. I . . . love you.”

And then his body fell.

“Sam!” Dean bellowed.

“Sam,” Jess whispered brokenly.

~~~

They limped through the next few days. Dean and Jess stood over Sam’s pyre, watching his body burn with dead eyes and heavy hearts. That night, they slept in the same bed, fully clothed, simply wanting the comfort of one another.

Jess had known that it was going to end with Sam’s death. She’d seen it coming from the first. He’d been gone too long, too much had happened between his abduction from their apartment in 2005 and now. She’d hoped and dreamed of finding him, but that hope became less and less about reuniting with her beloved and more and more about making it up to him. She’d failed to keep him safe. She’d failed to help him.

She knew that Dean was different. He wouldn’t give up. Everything was about Sam. Sam was the last link he had to his family. Without him, Dean would be the last Winchester. So she hadn’t shared her conviction that things were going to go wrong, but it still didn’t change how much it hurt. She’d failed again. She’d failed again.

When they found Azazel they took their revenge, for John and Mary, for Sam.

And then . . . there was just the hunt. Just each other.

~~~

A month passed. Jess stopped crying at night. Dean told her all the old stories he’d already gone through before.

Two months. Jess and Dean were back to hunting as they had for the past two years. They joked and laughed and fought together.

Three months. They visited Bobby and ate horrible diner food. The old tension returned, the tension of two young people who found the other attractive.

But now there was no Sam. He was gone, his body burned, his soul at rest.

So now there was just Dean at twenty-eight, handsome and charming, and Jessica Moore, at twenty-four, beautiful and bright. Now there was just them rolling down the sultry highway, the windows down and Led Zeppelin crooning out the speakers, her bare feet curled up under her hips, touching his thigh across the bench seat. Now there was just his callused fingers stroking along her feet, the touch just on the edge of platonic.

They kept up this dance for another month. They would draw close, and then away, threatening the other with kisses but never really following through. They would share long lingering looks, and every person they met thought that they were a couple no matter how hard they protested. They looked the part, they acted the part, they felt the part.

It all finally came to a head on a hunt gone wrong. It wasn’t a repeat of the rawhead a little over a year ago, thank God, but it was close. On the hunt for what they thought was a vampire, it turned out to simply be a madman. He was strong, though, and had a knife, and that knife’s blade found itself sinking through the meat of Dean’s bicep. He hissed in pain as he took out the guy, but his grip almost failed him. Jess was the one to finish off the monster in human skin.

“Shit,” Dean muttered.

“Come on,” Jess said with a hurried glance around. “We’ll take care of it back at the room.”

Fortunately, no one saw them as they returned, and Jess pulled out the first aid kit she’d built. When Dean had first tried to treat a laceration with dental floss and whiskey, Jess had damn near lost her mind. She had been a nursing student, just a few weeks away from completing her track. She had taken him to task almost two years ago, and sewn him up better than even his Dad. She had managed to get a local anesthetic and sutures, and Dean sighed as the pain numbed a bit. Her fingers were light as she cleaned the wound and closed it. She smoothed gauze over it, and then used medical tape to fix the bandage in place.

Dean watched her the entire time, his green eyes heavy lidded. “Thanks,” he said, his voice husky. He licked his lips, and before she knew it, that plush mouth was on hers. The kiss was sweet and almost chaste, just the hint of tongue as he pulled away. “I’ve wanted to do that for awhile.”

“Yeah?” she asked with a grin.

He reached up with his good arm, pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear. “I keep waiting for you to leave me, now that Sam’s gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Dean,” she replied softly. “What am I going to do? Go back to Palo Alto knowing that demons are real and ghosts kill people every day? Try to finish my degree while wondering if a random stranger on the street is a vampire and salting my windows in paranoia?”

“It’d be better than this life,” he rasped.

She shook her head. “Not unless you came with me,” she said. “Maybe I could do it if you were with me.” She let out a sharp laugh. “I’ve been with you longer now than I was with Sam.”

Dean closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I shouldn’t -“

“Shouldn’t what? Shouldn’t want me? I’m not your brother’s widow or something. I loved Sam, but I stopped loving him romantically well over a year ago. How could I? He wasn’t the man who was with me. He wasn’t the man who kept me going. I’m a hunter now, Dean, and I . . . I want to be with you.”

“When I’m not hopped up on painkillers . . .” he muttered.

Jess laughed.

~~~

Another year passed. A trip to Vegas, and rings appeared on their fingers. Dean was no longer the last Winchester, and in another year, two became three.

Three Winchesters rolling down the sultry highway, baby Sam sleeping in the back, Dean driving, and Jess’s feet on his thigh.

#deanrareshipweek2023 #day 1 hurt/comfort #Jessica Moore/Dean Winchester #spn fanfic

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