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writethelifeyouwant · 2 years

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Made For You | Chapter 17

Summary: Dean and Sam like what they have together, and if screwing your brother screws with the universe’s “grand plan” while they’re at it, then even better. Neither of them has ever cared much for tradition or fate, but it turns out there are some destinies you can’t escape. Sometimes, someone is just made for you.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader / Alpha!Dean x Omega!Sam Rating: 18+ Warnings: Incest, Dub Con Tags: Dean x Reader, Dean x Sam, alpha!Dean, omega!Sam, omega!Reader, fuck or die, sex pollen, love triangle, star-crossed lovers, destiny, true mates, primal urges, angst, mating, kissing Bingo Squares: @spnabobingo - Sex Pollen | @anyfandomkinkbingo - Love Triangle Word Count: 2.8k

Series Masterlist

Dean’s POV

Dean barely has any idea how it happened. Everything is a blur in his memory as he stands outside the two contamination chambers containing his brother and his daughter, both pacing irritably and visibly sweating, glancing through their windows periodically towards Dean, though somehow never at the same time. He supposes it’s lucky for them that the county coroner’s morgue resides within the county hospital and not in some random laboratory across town. At least when they’d been exposed to… whatever the hell is killing people around here, Sam and Y/N were almost immediately taken in for medical care.

Their heavy-duty decontamination showers hadn’t solved the problem, according to the doctor. He’s explaining why to Dean, but the hunter is only half listening. He knew it was a long shot. The spores had erupted from the corpse’s lungs, which made it pretty clear to Dean that once you breathe it in, the damage is done, and no amount of soap or natural astringent is going to cleanse that. He, of course, had been in full-on Hazmat gear while he was examining the body, carefully cutting through the autopsy stitches to reveal the chest cavity once more, letting him poke around the afflicted organs. Shouting reached his ears only moments before the doors to the morgue had burst open, Y/N charging through with Sam stumbling after her, hot on her heels.

Dean tried to warn them, but as if the spores had sensed that new hosts had just made themselves available, the swollen and discoloured lungs of the open corpse ruptured and spilled out veritable clouds of pollen. Fucking sex pollen. The doctors at the hospital have been seeing cases for a few weeks now, utterly unable to find the root cause or to stop its spread, which seemed random in the most specific way Dean has ever encountered. The pollen is somehow picking out unmated omegas and alphas. The odd mated couple had been exposed but as they all had fairly ready access to the recommended treatment for this particular ailment, they’d only wound up severely dehydrated at the end of it all, rather than dead.

Which is why Dean is panicking pretty severely right now, because both Y/N and Sam are unmated. The only survivors the doctors have records of weren’t casually dating couples or friends with benefits, they’ve all been properly mated couples. In love couples. Couples where the omega sported a very visible claim bite along the dip of their clavicle.

Even if he and Y/N are true mates, they aren’t in a relationship. They aren’t in love, and Dean certainly hasn’t even contemplated the idea of claiming her outside of the possessive haze of his rut last weekend. Would Sam even allow something like that to happen – allow his older brother to claim their daughter? The universe certainly has a sick sense of humour, Dean thinks without mirth. Bringing him and Sam together, letting them think they were in love, all to create the one person on this Earth that is truly made for him. And he’s half of what made her. There’s something fascinatingly carnal about that idea, and Dean can’t deny it, even in the silence of his own thoughts.

Y/N is perfect for him, a match in every way–especially biologically–because Dean and Sam made her that way. And Sam carried her, brought her into this world, raised her; all for Dean, even if he didn’t know it at the time. If that wasn’t an act of true love, Dean doesn’t know what else could possibly qualify. He feels a confusing surge of longing for his little brother, his heart beating frantically, even as his cock throbs at the prospect of getting to be with Y/N again.

Dean’s mind reels through the possible outcomes of their trio’s current predicament. He might be able to help Y/N through the exposure, but what about Sam? He can’t just abandon Sam to succumb to the effects of the pollen, although he’s almost positive that as soon as Dean presents the options to the pair of them, Sam will insist that Dean saves Y/N and leaves him to suffer his fate. Dean would say the same if their positions were reversed.

Or maybe Sam will surprise him and just tell Dean to fuck off, let him and Y/N die in peace, rather than condoning any kind of relationship between Dean and their daughter. The way Sam is glaring at him through the contamination room’s little window tells Dean that if it was just a question of Sam dying here, he wouldn’t hesitate to refuse Dean’s help out of pure spite. The little shithead.

“Let me in to see them,” Dean interrupts whatever the doctor has been drolling on about. He hasn’t been listening to any of it.

“Wh–” the greying man in a rumpled lab coat blinks at Dean in surprise before he catches up. “But, Agent, if you’re in the room with either omega while the pollination persists, you’ll be infected as well.”

“Yeah, I figured that one out for myself, doc,” Dean shrugs out of his suit jacket and drapes it over an arm, reaching up to loosen his tie and undo the top button of his dress shirt.

“But–”

Dean cuts across his protest. “The girl is my true mate, I can help her,” he clarifies, and the doctor’s eyes brighten.

“Oh! Well, that makes things considerably easier,” the man sighs in relief, and Dean recognises the look of someone who has seen too much death and isn’t eager to see any more, despite his awareness that it’s inevitable. “Her father, though. I shouldn’t let him in the same room. Two omegas in this state could easily resort to violence, even if the girl is your true mate or claimed.”

“Hey, man, look at her,” Dean grabs the doctor’s shoulder and steers him towards Y/N’s room. She’s sitting on the edge of her bed now, hospital gown billowed around her like a circus tent and her knees drawn up to her chest. “She’s terrified right now. Let her see her dad!”

The doctor gives him a doubtful look, and Dean practically growls against his ear. “If you don’t open the door for him, I guarantee Sam is gonna kick it down when he sees me go in there to be with her. At least let me explain it to them both together, because if we don’t figure something else out for Sam he might–” Dean gulps around the words, unable to force them out. “It could be the la– Just open the goddamn door!”

Shakily, the doctor pulls a remote from the pocket of his coat and punches in a code. A mechanical beeping sound is followed by the whoosh of air releasing from a vacuum seal, and a second later Sam is barrelling through into Y/N’s room and pulling his daughter into his arms, rocking her soothingly against his chest. With a final look at Dean for confirmation, which the hunter answers with a stoic nod, the doctor punches in a second code and unlocks the door to the clean room between the hallway and Y/N’s sealed room. Once the hall door is closed behind Dean the door to the hospital room unlocks and he shoves through urgently, running to join Y/N and Sam, crouching down on one knee in front of the huddled omegas.

Y/N’s POV

“Dad, what’s happening?” You look up at your father plaintively as he wraps himself around you, hugging you close to his warm chest, and the hazel eyes that you’ve known your whole life stare back at you determinedly but unable to conceal the worry he’s so clearly feeling. You know the expressions of Liam Campbell all too well after twenty years. Sam, you mentally remind yourself of his real name, Sam Winchester. Somehow, it fits him better than the name you’ve always thought was his.

“It’s gonna be okay, sweetheart,” Sam mumbles against your hair, holding your head to his shoulder and pressing small kisses against the crown of your head like you’re a baby again.

“What was that stuff? The doctors wouldn’t tell me anything!” you whine, looking to him for answers, and Sam sighs heavily, about to elaborate, when the door to your room explodes open and Dean rushes inside, immediately dropping down in front of you and his brother.

“How are you guys feeling?” he asks, swallowing anxiously, and you and Sam share meaningful glances.

“We’re hanging in there,” your father responds tightly, his grip around your shoulders flexing noticeably as Dean’s eyes rake over the pair of you. “What’d the doc say?” You notice Dean’s grimace before he controls his face into a more neutral expression. “That good, huh?” Sam scoffs, rocking you a little more vigorously.

You’re beginning to overheat though, your skin breaking out in a cold sweat that makes all the hairs on your body ache. You pull yourself out of your father’s embrace and try to stand up to shake some movement back into your muscles, which are cramping uncomfortably the way they do when you feel your heat coming on. That doesn’t make any sense though, seeing as you’d just gotten fucked through a heat last weekend. Taking a moment to scent the air, you realise that you can detect the stronger aromas that your dad gives off when his cycle comes around, though you’ve always tried not to think about that too hard.

Another deep breath has you dizzy and spiralling as you’re assaulted with Dean’s scent, entirely overwhelming anything you’re picking up from Sam. The warmth of leather, bourbon, and sandalwood engulfs you and sets your nerves tingling and your muscles to disintegrate. Collapsing forward, you wind up in Dean’s arms, cradled against his chest and the fabric of his white dress shirt. It’s dampened with sweat, but that only serves to strengthen the scents that are calling to you, and you bury your nose into him greedily, pointedly ignoring the fact that you think you just whimpered out loud.

“I gotcha baby girl, it’s okay,” Dean soothes. He lets go of you with one arm and bends down to sweep it under your knees, collecting you up into his arms and carrying you back to lay on the bed. Your dad stands up to make room for Dean to lay you down on top of the covers, and then both men step back, examining you with the utmost concern.

“It was the pollen, yeah?” Sam asks Dean, and the older brother rolls his eyes but nods grimly.

“Well, duh, Sam! What else would it be? The ice cream you had on the way here?” Dean demands sarcastically, and if you weren’t feeling so faint you would laugh at how much he reminds you of your dad. “It’s sex pollen. Great find for a nearby hunt, not something bad for Y/N to get mixed up in at all.”

“Hey! I sent you after this, she was never supposed to be here! I tried to stop her if you didn’t notice,” Sam hisses in aggravation, and you feel yourself blanche guiltily. This is all your fault, isn’t it?

“Well fantastic job, little bro,” Dean scoffs and Sam goes to punch him but Dean’s reflexes are faster. He catches Sam’s wrist firmly in his fist, staring hard at the younger man, green eyes dark with challenge. Sam’s chest heaves as he struggles to control his breathing, not moving to break Dean’s grip on his arm. It feels like the heat in the little room ratchets up another several degrees. For just a moment, you imagine that the brothers are about to kiss, but then a roll of pain breaks through your abdomen and you moan, your eyes rolling back behind your lids as you sink against the flimsy pillow beneath your head, and the spell is broken.

Sam and Dean both rush to you. Your dad sits at the top of the mattress, pulling your head into his lap so he can card his fingers through your hair soothingly, and Dean moves around the bed to sit on the opposite side. One of your hands grabs blindly for him, and Dean takes it between his without hesitation, squeezing hard in promise–though the promise of what, you still aren’t quite sure.

“This stuff is specific, Sam,” Dean’s words rumble low in his throat, caught against swollen muscles trying to force them back in.

“Yeah, I know,” your dad sighs heavily. “The patterns in the survivors. They were all couples.”

“They were all mates,” Dean emphasises, and you feel Sam’s breath catch low in his stomach, then bleed out in a motion you recognise as his admission of defeat.

“I know,” Sam whispers even more quietly. “You’re sure? You’re sure it’s her? You can save her?”

“What? Save me? Dad wha–” your questions are garbled and quiet, your chest feels weak, the air flowing into it too thin.

“Yes.” Dean’s answer drowns your words out, instantaneous and unequivocal.

“Then do it.” Sam squeezes the hand of yours that he’s holding and brushes the hair from your cheek, leaning down to kiss you on the forehead. “I love you, Y/N,” he whispers. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise. I wouldn’t trust anyone in the world to do this besides my brother…” Sam’s voice shakes, cracks almost imperceptibly. “Besides your father.”

“Sam, hang in there,” Dean leans over you and grabs your dad’s chin, forcing his face towards him. “I’m not giving up on getting you outta this either. You’ve still got time, you hear me?”

“Will someone tell me what the fuck is going on!?” you demand, startling the brothers apart from yet another intense bout of eye contact that seems to harden the air between them to the density of concrete.

“It’s uhm–” Sam looks down at you in obvious embarrassment, his neck flushing red to match the heat in his cheeks beneath the light dusting of stubble on his jaw. “We got dosed with sex pollen, Y/N. And the way to fix it is well. You know,” he clears his throat awkwardly.

“For us to mate,” Dean fills in for Sam, picking up the baton and looking at you seriously. “And like, permanently mate,” he adds after a brief pause. “Y/N, I need to claim you if you’re gonna get to the other side of this without shrivelling up from dehydration and whatever fucking magic was in that shit.”

“Oh.” You blink up at Dean and consider his words briefly, letting the full weight of their meaning sink in. “But what about Dad?”

You look up at Sam, immediately understanding the dilemma. Dean is your true mate. Sure, it’s definitely fast for him to claim you after only knowing each other a week but you suppose it’s inevitable between you two. But Sam… Sam, who you know is still in love with Dean, because you’d very rudely listened through the door while he spoke to Ellen back at the Roadhouse. Dean had been so hesitant to believe you were true mates because he had always thought that if he had one, it would be someone from his past, and you know now he must have meant your father. Where does this leave the two of them, if you and Dean become mated? Does this pollen stuff mean that someone needs to claim your dad, too, if he’s going to survive? Surely, then, Dean should claim him. Not you.

“I’ll be fine, Y/N,” Sam reassures you, but once again, you recognise the uneasiness behind his confident expression.

“No, Dad, I’m not gonna let you go all hero on me and sacrifice yourself or something stupid like that,” you protest, hating how childish your voice sounds to your own ears.

“Hey, Y/N, look at me, sweetheart,” Dean tucks a finger under your chin and turns your face away from Sam and towards him. “I promise, I’m not gonna let Sam play the martyr, we’ve got time to figure something out for him too. But we’ll both think a lot more clearly once we know that you’re safe, okay?” The alpha’s voice takes on the heady timbre of authority that zings unfairly straight to the base of your stomach and you have to fight the urge to clench around the emptiness inside of you. Suddenly, you’re very aware that you’re soaking through your panties and onto the sheets beneath you.

Physical need, once you’ve acknowledged it, drives all other thoughts from your head except for getting Dean inside of you again. Based on the widening of his pupils and the sharp intake of breath as he holds your gaze, the same urgent desire has washed over the alpha too.

“Okay,” you nod, the word trembling on your tongue in a delicate whimper that you try to swallow down but fail spectacularly at concealing. Without hesitation, Dean surges forward, body blanketing yours, and crushes your lips together, your heads now both cradled in Sam’s lap.

Chapter 18 posting on November 1st or head to my website to binge read the rest of the fic today!

Series Tags: @outofnowhere82 @ladysparkles78 @missusbarnes-rogers

We’re All Mads Here: @vulgar-library @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @laxe-chester67 @kassyscarlett @austin-winchester67 @flamencodiva @katbratsupernaturalwhore @letsbys-library @fictional-affairs @leigh70

All SPN: @cemini-winchester @akshi8278 @stoneyggirl @deandreamernp @lyarr24 @lovealways-j @slamminmine @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @alaufeyson @raidens-realm @tatted-trina6 @defenderrosetyler @cluz1babe @maliburenee

#spnabobingo #omega!sam #alpha!dean #omega!reader #smut fic #dean x reader #dean x sam #angst fic #supernatural fic #supernatural smut #wincest #omegaverse #made for you #series #please read warnings #writethelifeyouwant

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hellhoundsprey · 1 year

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Title: they love you and then they eat you Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/43832901 Ships: Jack/Sam, Cas/Sam Rating: explicit Tags: a/b/o dynamics, normal life AU, omega!sam, alpha!jack, top!jack, bottom!sam, first time, pseudo-incest, dubious consent, body horror Characters: Jack Kline, Sam Winchester, Castiel Word Count: 5 k Summary: Something is changing in Jack. Sam helps (doesn’t help).

#hellhoundsprey #spn fanfic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!jack #top!jack #bottom!sam #omega!sam #sam/jack

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vampirate99 · 2 years

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Werewolf + A/B/O Wincest. (Possible Mpreg)

#wincest fanart #wincest #spn fanart #weecest #weecest fanart #dean/sam #sam/dean #a/b/o wincest #alpha!dean #omega!sam #bottom!sam #top!dean #possible mpreg

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zepskies · 4 months

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Make It Right

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Summary: He didn’t mean to claim you. Not like this. Not before he’s meant to die.

AN: This was requested by this lovely anon. I've written Dean returning from Purgatory, so here is Dean returning from Hell in season 4, but with a twist…my first venture into A/B/O! Sorry if I didn’t get the dynamics quite right, I’m still learning this one. 😘

(@luci-in-trenchcoats Thank you for the encouragement! 💜)

Word Count: 4,300

Warnings: 18+ only! For smut, A/B/O dynamics, angst, mentions of torture, PTSD, and hurt/comfort.

You could’ve wept with relief.

You nearly did. Instead, you shuddered as his tongue swept along the fresh mark near the back of your neck.

A mark that claimed you as his.

Your core still quivered with the aftershocks of how hard you came around his cock, which was still buried deep inside you, locked in place with his knot. Dean nosed at your neck and shoulder as he tried to regain his breath, calm his wildly beating heart.

His skin was dewy against yours, especially where your thighs were hooked around his hips. He held himself above you so he wouldn’t crush you with his weight. You appreciated it, and you soothed up and down his sweat-slick back with grazing fingertips.

Through the newly formed bond, you could feel the frenzied haze of it all begin to clear from his mind, soon replaced by shock, and then, remorse. It made a tremor of worry churn in your belly.

“Dean?” you whispered. Your gaze met his with concern as you grasped his arm.

“What the hell did we just… I shouldn’t have…” His voice was coarse and his eyes filled with upset. “Fuck, this shouldn’t have happened.”

Dismay struck you deep, along with a pain that tore at your heart. Your only consolation was that the two of you were locked in this position, so he couldn’t slip away from you.

“How the hell could you say that to me?” you said. Against your will, your voice trembled. Tears began to sting in your eyes.

Dean faltered. He blew out a breath and reached for your cheek.

“You know why,” he said. His face became edged with desperation. He shifted his thigh and accidentally tugged at the base of his knot. You both groaned at the pain that flared between you, where you were joined.

Dean drew in deep, slower breaths in attempt to calm himself. His eyes shut, and his forehead dropped against yours.

“I’ve barely got three months left on my deal,” he said, through clenched teeth. “This isn’t…it’s not fucking fair to you.”

To you either, you wanted to point out, but you shook your head and held him close by the back of his neck. Your fingers trailed up into his hair, your nails brushing his scalp and eliciting a shudder from him.

Your touch both aroused him and soothed him. Your scent was everywhere, now mingled with his own that now covered you like a blanket. It was intense, and a bit overwhelming to his senses.

But it felt right.

“Don’t talk like you’ve already given up,” you said tersely.

It was with more vehemence than he expected. Dean pulled back a bit, just enough to meet your eyes. Your brows had drawn together, almost in anger. Your lips pulled into a frown.

“We’re going to find a way to break it,” you said. You reached up and held his face. Despite the strength of your words, your hands were gentle. “And I meant what I said, Dean.”

Between lusty sighs and the combined magnetic force of your heat and his rut and emotional tensions at their ultimate breaking point, the whispered words against his neck had come from the very center of you.

“Alpha,” you’d said, through abject need and burgeoning tears as you’d rubbed yourself against him. It was both biology and your heart’s longing. “Dean, I love you. Please…”

The tether of his restraint hadn’t lasted long after that. Because even though he couldn’t respond to you in words, he’d shown you in each and every action of his body molding with yours, wrecking you and claiming you on a dingy motel bed.

You deserve better, Dean thought, looking down on you now. You deserved more than what he had to give.

“I didn’t want to do this to you,” he said coarsely.

And yet, he still heeded the pull of you. Your guiding hands brought him down to your lips. It wasn’t the rough, manic, bruising kiss that had fueled your earlier passions. No, this was slow and warm and tinged with bittersweet.

Dean brushed sweaty strands of your hair away from your face. You held him to you and silently prayed that he wouldn’t let go either.

“I know,” you said. Even though the situation shouldn’t have warranted it, you giggled a little. “That makes you just about the most unselfish Alpha in existence.”

He snorted at that. His eyes took in your face, and further down, to the parts of you that weren’t covered by his body over yours. He let out a breath of defeat.

“No, I’m hella selfish,” he said. His lips quirked. “For better or worse, you’re mine, Omega.”

Your smile grew. “Good. Glad you’re finally caught up.”

Dean’s hand playfully tightened in your hair as he growled. It had little heat though, and you had the audacity to laugh. He shook his head and claimed you with another kiss.

You had to be just about the wiliest Omega in existence.

Dean never gave up.

But he also couldn’t fight off Lilith, or the hellhounds that tore his chest open and spilled his blood on the hardwood floors of some poor family’s suburban house.

You screamed as if your very soul was being ripped apart, along with his skin.

The mark on your neck burned something fierce. It had you clamping a hand down over it as you sunk to your knees next to Sam and cried over Dean’s body, his unseeing eyes. It wasn’t right.

You would never be right again.

It took about a week into your self-isolation. When you finally drew enough strength to get out of bed, you finally noticed it in the mirror—in the bathroom next to Bobby’s guest bedroom.

Your neck looked as if something had burned you. Your eyes widened in horror.

When you touched it, you hissed at the pain. The delicate nerve endings of your mating gland were even more sensitive and raw. Apparently, this was what happened when an Alpha mate died before their Omega.

However, even that pain was nothing compared to what you discovered, two months later.

Your mating gland had healed, and the claim mark was gone entirely.

You sank against the wall, all the way to the floor, and you cried until you were exhausted and frayed. Not even Bobby’s offer of a hot meal and a listening ear could penetrate your grief.

You were ashamed of the way you lost track of Sam after it all went down. You’d descended into yourself, and Bobby had been the only one there to catch you. Sam had forged on by himself, down a spiral of revenge, you were sure.

He wouldn’t come back to Sioux Falls, nor would he tell you where he was when you finally got him on the phone. He claimed he was better off alone as he tried to find a way to save Dean, but there was something off in his voice. Something that told you whatever he was doing was dangerous, and wrong.

“Sam, don’t you dare make a deal,” you demanded, through frustrated and sorrowful tears. “Dean wouldn’t want—”

“Don’t fucking tell me…what Dean would want, okay?” Sam seethed. “If it were me, he wouldn’t stop. If it were you, he wouldn’t stop. So don’t tell me to stop.”

“I’m not telling you to stop!” you shouted back. “I’m telling you not to do something stupid! And I’m asking you to let me help.”

There was a long pause on the line. You tried to calm your labored breathing as you waited for him.

“If you really want to help me, do what you can from Bobby’s. I’ll check in when I can,” he said.

And the line went dead.

Two more months had passed by the time you started to feel the barest hint of yourself again. You’d tried to go on a hunt with Bobby, but you really hadn’t been ready for it. Your head wasn’t in it, and that was how hunters got killed.

So you stayed behind and answered the phones for him. You pretended to be FBI and CIA and Homeland Security for fellow hunters trying to get their hands on police files.

You also helped Bobby with research and reorganized his extensive, and ridiculously chaotic home library. He was the only one you knew who could have A History of Paganism next to a guidebook on Chinese tea ceremonies.

But one night, you decided you were sick of sitting on your ass (and all the dust).

You were finally going out for a drink.

Bobby was locked at home in research for a case. You felt bad about bailing on him, but he insisted you were entitled to go out…

Not that you wanted to meet anyone. However, you did realize that you needed to reconnect with the outside world. You’d been staring at the peeling walls of Bobby’s house for four months now.

So you showered, found a simple black dress from deep in your closet, and started to blow-dry your hair. You didn’t do this often, but if you were going out, then you were going to make an effort.

You paused for a moment when a cramp hit your lower belly. You grimaced and pressed a hand there. A shiver ran down your spine.

Shit, not now, you thought. If this was your heat coming on, you would have to take another suppressant before you went out. You knew blocking your cycle wasn’t that good for you, but you hadn’t felt like dealing with it for the past few months. You just weren’t ready to go through another heat, whether by yourself, or with a stranger.

It…it was too soon.

After the cramping subsided for the moment, you continued drying parts of your hair, sweeping the brush through. With the hairdryer so loud in your ears, you didn’t hear the front door opening, or the resulting shouting and scuffle coming from downstairs.

Eventually, there was quiet. And then, heavy boots climbing up the stairs.

You saw the bathroom door push open out of the corner of your eye. You turned and nearly jumped right out of your skin.

Your scream echoed on the walls when you saw something that looked entirely too much like Dean Winchester.

Hit scent hit you then. Warm and musky, a hint of earthiness and soil, but no less familiar. It struck a blow to your chest and forced you to grip the counter for balance. You clicked off the hairdryer.

The doppelganger raised placating hands, though his wide eyes slowly softened as a smile tugged at his lips.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said.

His deep voice was the same. He looked dirty and disheveled, wearing a familiar gray buttoned down over a black shirt, his usual jeans, and boots. If your memory served, they looked like the clothes he was buried in…

Your hands shook. “Wh…what the hell are you?”

Dean’s smile began to fall.

“Look, I know it’s hard to believe. But I’m me. I’m, uh… I’m back,” he replied. When he tried taking a cautious step forward, you brandished your hairdryer against him—your only feasible weapon.

“You…you back the fuck off!” you snapped. You opened your mouth to shout for Bobby, but before you could, Dean’s trademark smirk took hold of his face.

“What’re you gonna do, blow me to death?” he quipped.

After you broke through a bit of your shock, you spluttered with laughter. And then tears.

Dean’s lips quirked, but he moved towards you in slow steps. He took the hairdryer from you and set it down on the counter. With a slightly shaking hand, he touched your cheek. You closed your eyes for a moment, sucked in a breath, and inadvertently inhaled his scent once again.

Your heart pounded almost painfully in your chest. Your fingers curled into the front of his shirt. You realized it then. You didn’t need silver or holy water to prove it was him. You knew.

Your eyes opened and met his.

“Dean,” you uttered, brokenly.

He couldn’t fucking take it anymore. Dean pulled you into him by your waist. He held you as you shuddered and cried into his chest. His hand clenched in your hair, while the other pressed into the small of your back. It anchored him, and trapped you in the cage of his arms.

He buried his nose into your neck and had to squeeze his eyes shut past a telltale burn in his eyes. Your name fell from his lips, both longing and reverent. Your hold on him tightened.

His lips brushed against your mating gland, igniting sensitive nerve endings and making a tremble run down your spine.

“Alpha,” you whispered.

Dean’s insides clenched in response. He ached for you, just like he had soon after he’d been able to free himself from that pine box in the middle of nowhere. But his brows furrowed.

He pulled back from you, just so he could brush the bare skin along your neck with a gentle thumb.

“What happened to the mark?” he asked. He realized that he couldn’t feel you, not like before. And even your scent was different…like you’d never been claimed by him. Like you weren’t his. That realization hit him like a sucker punch to his stomach.

You frowned and leaned back so you could meet Dean’s eyes. It took you a moment to find your voice, and even when you did, it was uncharacteristically small.

“After…after what happened, it burned like holy hell,” you confessed. Your hands travelled down his chest, clinging to the open edges of his shirt. “Then it was a scar. Then, it was just…nothing. It was gone.”

Fresh tears burgeoned in your eyes. They spilled down your cheeks as your frame shook with a sob, but Dean gathered you back into his arms. As shitty as it was, he started to think this was actually for the better…

“What happened, Dean? How are you here?” you asked.

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Haven’t figured that part out just yet…but something broke me out.”

He knew it wasn’t you who made a deal. Your shock was too real to be an act. He knew, however, that he needed to find Sam.

That could wait though. Dean’s gaze roamed your face. He wiped away the remnants of tears from your cheeks, brushed his thumb across your lower lip. Your eyes met his. He saw your heartbreak begin to fade—into a desire that called to his own. Despite the voice inside that warned him to hold back, he just couldn’t help himself.

When he finally leaned in to kiss you, it felt like coming home. You held his face in your hands and rose up on your toes to meet him. His arms wrapped around your waist and brought you flush against him, but it wasn’t enough.

Kisses became more frantic, with labored breaths and hands moving to remove each other’s clothing. Your sexy little black dress fell to the floor, along with your bra and panties and the rest of his clothes.

“You’re filthy,” you laughed, between the sloppy meeting of your lips with his.

Dean’s response was to peel back the shower curtain behind you and turn on the shower head, as hot as it could go. A growl sounded low in his throat before he bodily hefted you along with him into the shower and under the spray.

For a moment, he let the scalding water beat down on him. You grabbed the soap and drew it over his neck, chest, and shoulders. The suds trickled down his body, washing away the grime of the road, and whatever else he hadn't been able to wipe off after escaping his grave.

He blinked water out of his eyes as he took in the sight of your concentrated face, and your gentle hands washing him. Then the rest of your body, your curves that fit so well in his hands, your breasts that heaved along with your heavier breathing, nipples hard and aching to be touched.

Dean took the soap from your hands and put it back on the dish, shortly before he pinned you against the cold bathroom tile. He ravaged you with lips, teeth, and tongue along your neck, down your chest, and over your breasts. You moaned and held him to you.

You didn't care that your hair was getting soaked all over again. Your fingers ran through his now wet hair as he touched you and drew pleasure from your body.

Your lower belly was beginning to cramp in earnest now, and resonating deep inside you with heat. You felt a flood of slick forming between your legs as your core pulsed with need.

Your scent hit him in a powerful wave, nearly making Dean falter as his eyes rolled shut.

“Fuck. You’re in heat, Omega,” he choked out.

You nodded, though you had to fist a hand in his hair when you felt his fingers between your legs. They swiped between your drenched folds, gathering some slick and circling around your clit. You moaned loudly and arched against his hand. The back of your head pressed into the wall.

“Alpha,” you said. A whine sounded in your throat as Dean’s touch firmed in response. His thumb pressed and massaged your clit while two fingers slipped deep inside your tight channel.

A shiver ran down Dean’s spine, along with your nails grazing down his back. Already he was painfully hard for you. He had a suspicious feeling that your heat was triggering his rut, because he was becoming desperate to be inside you. His whole body felt tingling and alive, and charged with need.

His lips sucked hard on those sensitive nerves between your neck and shoulder, making you gasp. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers.

“That’s it, Omega. Want you to come just like this before I fill you up,” he muttered. He earned your vocal agreement in response.

But then it hit him.

Flashes of memory. Darkness and blood. Agony tearing at his skin and insides.

And then, inflicting it himself, on other souls just as damned as him.

Your moan of release just barely managed to pull him out of his own mind. He felt your wetness coat his hand. Goddamn.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. And yet, while his body caged yours against the wall, he couldn’t force himself to continue. He couldn’t back off either. He was fighting every instinct in his body that demanded he take you, right here and now.

“Dean?” you asked, sensing his hesitation. You cupped his cheek, but he didn’t want to look at you.

“I can’t,” he ground out.

Your eyes widened as shock and dismay threatened to overtake you. “What?”

Dean’s eyes closed. He was trembling with the force of both his need, and his restraint.

With a frown of concern, you wrapped a thigh around his hip, but he wouldn’t heed your attempt to bring him closer.

“What’s wrong?” you asked. No, you demanded to know. Because your body was quaking with desire as well. You needed his knot, and you wanted nothing more than for him to make this right—to claim you as his.

But Dean looked like he was in pain. He winced and pressed a fist against the wall by your head. He pressed his forehead against it.

You tried to comfort him with your hands soothing over his shoulders. There you finally caught sight of a mark on his right shoulder. It looked like a burn…a handprint. Your eyes widened with a small gasp.

He followed your gaze, but he eventually looked away with a frown. It was like he didn’t even want to acknowledge it, even if he didn’t know what it was. Whatever had hauled him out of Hell, he doubted it was anything good.

“I’m, uh…” He breathed raggedly through his nose. “I’m not…the same.”

You had a feeling it was very difficult for him to admit that.

Four months.

That was how long he’d been lost to you. That was how long he’d been in Hell. You couldn’t even imagine…

You swallowed past a lump of sorrow, but you weren’t deterred. You grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet your eyes.

“You were my Alpha long before you claimed me,” you told him.

That affected Dean, probably more than you knew. He still shook his head though.

“It’s not right, Omega,” he said, even as his voice trembled. You don’t have a fuckin’ clue… You don’t know what I’ve turned into.

The water from the shower head was growing cold, but you’d never been hotter. The cramps were starting up again in earnest, making your teeth clench at the combination of pain and incredible arousal.

“I need you,” you said, through frustration, heat, and emotion all at once. “I would never leave you like this. I would never leave you.”

His eyes closed again, briefly. His breath came out harshly through his nose when you touched his cheek. Your touch was gentle, but it still ignited his skin and made every muscle in his body coil tight with strain.

It was hard to sort through the base instincts that were on the verge of taking over his mind, and then his body. Deep down though, Dean knew you were right. He knew you would never leave him. And that was kind of the problem.

“Alpha, please,” you said, through your own strain. Again, you took his face in your hands and shook him. It drew his gaze to your face. Your beautiful face that he’d seen over and over in the Pit, used as his own personal form of torture.

His whole body trembled.

You saw his distress, and it pierced your heart. You leaned up and brushed your wet cheek against his, while your fingers slipped into his hair in comfort.

“You’re here. You’re alive,” you said. “And you’re here with me.”

You nuzzled your way down his neck and pressed your lips to his mating gland, making him shiver for a whole different reason. You pressed your body against his and kissed, licked, and sucked at his skin.

“Omega,” he warned, but the growl in his throat was more pleased than warning. He felt your nails graze down his chest and sternum, and soon enough your hand wrapped around his throbbing cock.

He sucked in a breath and pressed his face into your neck. His lips ventured tantalizingly close to the place you wanted him the most, and all the while you stroked him along sensitive flesh. Your thumb circled around his knot, and the dripping head.

“I know you need me too,” you said. You could smell his rut. Your lips edged at a smirk, and you decided to bluff. “But if you won’t make me yours, maybe I’ll find another Alpha who will.”

It didn’t take long before a vice grip closed around your wrist. Dean’s irises were rimmed with black when he met your gaze, half consumed by the Alpha as he pinned you harder against the wall. He grabbed your thigh and hooked it around his hip. And with the other hand he guided his cock to push into you and stretch your inner walls, inch by inch.

You both moaned in relief when he was firmly seated inside you. Your core throbbed around him in a spasm of pleasure. You cried out and rolled your head back against the wall, your nails sinking into his shoulders.

“Alpha,” you shuddered.

“I got you, Omega,” he ground out, just barely holding onto the tethers of himself. His fingers coiled tight into your wet hair and began to pound into you, a rough clip that had you gasping, toes curling as you arched against him.

His lips found your throat and laid a nipping kiss there. All you could do was hold on desperately. You knew he was close when his thrusts grew ragged, when it became harder for him to push into you with the swell of his knot forming. But it wasn’t until his fingers slipped between your joined bodies and circled more insistently over your clit that you came along with him, hard on his throbbing cock.

His teeth sunk into your neck, creating a newly forged bond through a haze of pain and pleasure. You cried out again at the force of it all—the sensations were nearly overwhelming, even more so than it had been the first time he claimed you.

And Dean nearly slipped in the tub.

“Fuck!” He managed to catch himself on the soap dish and the adjoining wall while you grabbed his arms steady. Shit, that really could’ve been disastrous, considering you two were now locked in place.

He glanced down at you. Through wide eyes and panting breaths, you broke first with a giggle. Dean’s lips curved with a smile. Soon enough, he was chuckling too.

The black around his irises receded, and he held you more gently and secure against the wall. After licking the line of blood clean from your neck with a slow, sensuous tongue, he brushed your wet hair back from your face. Then he turned off the frigid shower.

“We really shouldn’t have done this in here. Shit,” he said with a laugh. How were you two supposed to get to your bed? Or at least get dry.

You giggled harder and dropped your forehead against his chest.

“It’s okay,” you said teasingly. “I think this is worth catching pneumonia over.”

Dean shook his head at your antics, but he pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. Smiling bright, you leaned up just enough to reach his lips. Your kiss was slow and tender; a release of your grief, a grateful thank you, and a reminder all at once.

“I love you,” you whispered. “That’s all that matters. We’ll deal with the rest afterwards.”

Dean expelled a long breath. He nodded after a moment, conceding defeat.

“I love you too,” he admitted. And he meant it, down to his bones.

He knew that afterwards wouldn’t be as easy as you seemed to think, but there was no turning back now.

You were his.

AN: And there we have it! lol This was definitely a fun challenge. I might like to try my hand at A/B/O dynamics again in the future, but let me know what you think of this one. 😘💜

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Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

#Make It Right #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #alpha!dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #alpha dean x omega reader #sam winchester #supernatural #spn #abo dynamics #reader request #omegaverse #abo au #spn season 3 #spn season 4 #zepskies writes

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somereaderinblue · 8 months

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The MAWS moment that hit every Asian kid harder than a punch from Superman himself.

#my adventures with superman #maws #i related to this on a near physical level #I FELT IT #IN MY BONES #TO MY SOUL #jfc sam lane doesn't need an omega cannon to shoot where it counts

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gemini-sensei · 3 months

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Thinking about big, mean alpha!Tory having a fwb relationship with her friend shy!omega!Reader. They are so different but so right for each other, but where Tory sees this as a totally with benefits relationship, Reader steadily falls for her good friend.

They fuck all the time but Reader especially loves taking care of Tory when she's in beat. She loves sucking on her cock and sloppering all over it, kissing her knot when it throbs and she's close to coming. Even when she's not in heat, she lets Tory knot her tight fat cunt. She squeals and gets so flustered while Tory tells her how great she is for it.

They're so hot for each other, but things take a turn when Reader slips up. She tells Tory how much she loves their little meetings and it freaks Tory out; yes, she also loves Reader but is terrified of what that could mean. So she cuts off their friends with benefits relationship out of the blue. Stops responding to texts, avoids hanging out with the group if Reader is around, and she just ghosts her essentially.

It makes Reader so sad. She starts acting like an omega losing her alpha. It's why fwb relationships between alphas and omegas is so dangerous, not that you can really tell them that. Reader gets so upset and and stops hanging around her friends. They know something is up and that Tory has likely something to do with it since there was a point in time they smelled like each other without trying to hide it. Now Tory isn't around and Reader is upset.

Sam gets pissed at the alpha. She's a fiesty omega with a big heart, so she cares for Reader a lot. That's her friend. She gets in Tory’s face about it, yelling at her and blaming her for Reader's sadness. Tory gets mad about it and yells back, telling Sam to mind her own business. She puts off her scent and it's unpleasant because she's so upset, wanting everyone to leave her alone.

Sam tries to go to Reader and cheer her up, but Reader cries so much she ends up crying herself to sleep. Sam holds her and promises that it'll be okay, but she's upset and angry at Tory for hurting her friend like this. She tries to get Reader out and about, have some fun and maybe look for a new alpha to be with.

But Reader doesn't want a new alpha. She just wants Tory, her great friend and love of her life. She's sure if Tory just gave her the chance, they'd be perfect mates. She's just too shy to say something like that to her.

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mercette · 8 months

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Oh but Sam smells sooo good, he's got alphas lining up around the block. Cheap dirty motels like the ones they frequent? John & Dean come back to find one sniffing at the door, cooing oh-so-gently for Sam to just give in, sweet thing, just crack the door - Sam's inside whimpering, cheek pressed to the doorknob, Dean's shirts bunched up under his sticky-wet thighs...

🥺 poor sammy is just desperate for a knot by the time dean and john get back. after they scare off all the other alpha's for the night they try to comfort him the best way they can. protective alpha john won't let them mate fully but he's fine with dean sitting by sam's side and talking him through it. dean is a good brother though so even when he immediately pops a knot from sam's scent in addition to his little whimpers and moans he still stays right by his bedside and tells him what a good omega he is and how well he's doing until sam makes himself cum multiple times.

that being said as soon as sam gets a little older he begins to actively pursue dean. he can't take only touching himself alone anymore he needs him to actually do something. sam doesn't take his suppressants specifically before john leaves for a case he knows he won't need dean for. dean wakes up to sammy's perfect scent right next to him and he pops a knot immediately. sam of course is a little shit and is immediately there rubbing himself against his big brother while whining about how badly he needs it and what kind of alpha wouldn't help his little brother? of course dean fucks him into the mattress multiple times and doesn't stop until sam is fucked too dumb and has a womb too full to be a brat anymore.

#omega!sam #samdean #🍬#can you hear me barking?#ask #wincest

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fandom-hoarder · 3 months

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Thinking about my qpr samdean posts, and adding sastiel...

- Castiel climbing in behind Sam just as Dean's date has gotten used to Sam's arm being there 😂

- Jimmy's vessel isn't an alpha; so Castiel--- knowing the arrangement Dean and Sam had for Sam's heats BEFORE Sam and Cas had a romantic relationship--- brightly wishes Sam a happy alpha hunt the day his heat starts.

Sam is disappointed but covers it up with an awkward smile, which Castiel returns. Sam leaves the room to go get ready to leave (when he thought he'd be staying in his nest room in the bunker). Castiel's entire demeanor drops as he watches Sam leave the room morosely. Dean looks at him and shakes his head at Cas missing Sam's clear omega signals, but the alpha in him is too pleased at the fact that Cas can't replace him to offer any insight into the area of knot toys.

#me.txt #qpr samdean #sastiel #omega!sam #omegaverse #tfw polycule #tfw situationship #weirdcest

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writethelifeyouwant · 1 year

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Made For You | Chapter 19

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader / Alpha!Dean x Omega!Sam Rating: 18+ Warnings: Incest, Dub Con (Sex Pollen) Tags: Dean x Reader, Dean x Sam, alpha!Dean, omega!Sam, omega!Reader, fuck or die, sex pollen, love triangle, star-crossed lovers, destiny, true mates, primal urges, angst, mating, kissing, p in v, knotting, scenting, kinda threesome, hurt/comfort, praise kink, dirty talk, accidental mating, squirting, overstimulation, sloppy seconds Bingo Squares: @spnabobingo - Sloppy Seconds | @supernatural-jackles TMAS Bingo Word Count: 2.2k

Series Masterlist

Sam’s POV

Sam feels sick. No– no, actually, he doesn’t. He wants to feel sick. He knows he should feel horrified about everything that’s just happened.

He hadn’t meant to stay, really he hadn’t. Sam wants to blame it on the supernatural sex pollen, and some of it definitely can be blamed on the horrid substance. He can tell himself that he never would have stayed to watch Y/N and Dean if he had been thinking clearly. He never would have touched his baby girl the way he did at the end if he’d been of sound mind. Holding her, comforting her while she was in danger, making sure she and Dean were both safe; that’s one thing. Slipping his fingers between his daughter’s legs to play with her clit and help her cum around Dean’s knot is not as easily explained. And absolutely none of it is forgivable, Sam berates himself.

He should be disgusted with himself… but he isn’t. As Sam breathes deeply, trying to comprehend everything that’s just transpired, he can feel his cock–rock hard and leaking almost as much slick as his hole–rubbing between the sweat-damp skin of Y/N’s lower back and his own stomach. At some point in the proceedings, his hospital gown must have gotten bunched up without him realising it.

All of Sam’s senses feel overwhelmed and confused. His ass feels just as empty and desperate as it has since the sex pollen began to take effect, craving a knot, craving a mate. But now, he’s just mated himself to someone who can’t give him that. When Sam sucked Dean’s tongue into his mouth and licked over his brother’s lips, he swallowed down the same blood and mating hormones that Dean had just released from their daughter’s veins. Through their carelessness, and their desperate craving for each other, Sam and Dean had just forced Y/N into a mating bond that she hadn’t chosen. And now, the sex pollen that’s been making Sam crave an alpha’s cock is now also making him crave his own daughter’s cunt. Because he’s a fucking idiot.

There’s yet another problem with this situation, though, because Dean’s cock is still knotted inside Y/N. Sam can feel the head of his brother’s dick pressing up against his palm through the base of the girl’s belly–a feeling that, inexplicably, has him practically delirious with desire. Y/N and Dean will probably stay knotted for a little while longer before the alpha releases enough to separate them without hurting either of them, and that’s if they don’t just start fucking again on instinct and stay tied the whole time. So both of the things that Sam is being forced to magically crave are also both off-limits to him right now, and he thinks it’s going to drive him insane.

Well, silver lining, Sam thinks bitterly, if the sex pollen kills me, Y/N won’t be stuck mated to an omega she never wanted in the first place.

“Hey, hey!” A dull tapping gets Sam’s attention and he blinks, bringing the hospital room back into focus around him, becoming conscious that Dean is lightly smacking him on the cheek. “There he is,” his older brother smiles tightly, and Sam feels his own lips pull up in a lazy smirk.

“Shut up,” he tries to say, trying to roll his eyes, but Sam can’t feel his muscles reacting properly, the way he remembers it feeling, and his words come out blurry, his vision slurring.

Dean’s POV

“Sammy? Sam!” Dean calls again, more forcefully this time as his little brother’s eyes lose focus again, and his lids slip shut. His jaw hangs slightly ajar and his neck begins to loll back, his stupid long floppy hair pooling on his shoulders. This is not good. This is very, very not good, and Dean can feel himself beginning to panic. The pollen is clearly beginning to take over Sam’s system.

“Daddy?” Y/N grumbles, her head snuggling back into Sam’s chest as she tries to peer up at him. “Daddy?” she asks again, slightly more alert, when Sam doesn’t respond. “Daddy. Da– Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean tries to shush his mate, kissing her gently on the forehead as he tries to think about what can be done. He’s just found his brother again after twenty years. He’s not about to lose him again. No way.

“Dean, what’s happening?” Y/N asks more insistently, pulling back to look him in the eye, the pleasure-fog that had been clouding her features a moment before almost entirely evaporated now.

“It’s the pollen,” Dean grunts, shifting his body as much as he can with his knot still tied to Y/N. “Can you lean forward, baby girl? Need to try and move us over, give him some space.”

“Shit, yeah,” Y/N flinches as she sits up too quickly, Dean’s cock moving inside of her and pulling uncomfortably for the both of them.

“Careful,” Dean hisses, biting on his tongue in concentration as he tucks a hand under Y/N’s leg and pulls it around his waist more tightly. “Here, put your arms around my neck sweetheart, gonna pick you up.” The alpha sits back on his knees, gathering the omega into him and pulling her up off of the mattress. Sam’s body relaxes a little and slides a bit down the bed without the weight of Y/N keeping him upright. His legs splay open as if it’s instinctual, displaying his hole and his cock, the scent of his arousal leaking into the air around them and making Dean feel slightly faint.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, and Dean groans as her pussy clamps down on his knot, pulsing wantonly as she also inhales the scent of her father’s slick. “Oh fuck,” she whimpers into his shoulder, her lips skating damply over Dean’s skin.

“You want him, don’t you, baby girl?” Dean hears himself purring against Y/N’s ear, unconscious of making the decision to speak. His voice sounds low and guttural, seductive, and he has no idea what’s coming over him. “Such a greedy little girl, not happy with just one Daddy stuffed in this pussy, are you? You want two. You want Sammy, don'tcha sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Dean, yes,” Y/N groans, still grinding herself down onto his knot, which is not what Dean needs to be happening right now. He needs to get Y/N off of himself and on to his brother as quickly as possible, no matter how much his instincts are screaming at him for even considering pulling out of the cunt he’s currently cradled inside of. “Fuck, want you. Want you, Daddy,” the omega moans, and Dean’s breath catches in his throat, a whole muddle of arousal and emotion surging through him at the sound of Y/N referring to him as Daddy, and how much more that means now.

“You’ve got me, baby girl,” he pants, nuzzling against her and dragging his mouth across her skin until his lips find hers. “Fuck, ‘mega, I got you. Alpha’s got you.” Dean is on his feet he realises, having picked Y/N up in his arms and stepped off of the bed. He slams Y/N’s back against the wall beside the bed, pinning her body against his, and starts thrusting into her furiously, fucking her so hard the bed beside them is quaking. His face is buried against her neck, her screams are thick and vital in his ears, stringing his nerves so tight they snap in a flash of heat as he empties himself inside of her for a third time. There’s so much cum he can feel some of it escaping the barrier that his knot is supposed to be making and dripping into the crevices between the omega’s thighs.

“Dean,” Y/N is sobbing brokenly against him from her own overwhelming pleasure, and the alpha gets a spark of inspiration.

Pulling his hips back a little so he can squeeze a hand between them, he lets his fingers find the tiny bundle of nerves a little ways above where he can feel his cock rocking in and out of her entrance the tiniest bit. He swirls the pads of his fingers over her until he finds the spot that makes her gasp and bang her head back against the wall, ecstasy written clearly over her face. Speeding up, he begins to flex his hips a little more, unable to control very much with his knot still so big inside of her, but hoping desperately that the increased girth is giving him the advantage he needs and rubbing over the right spot.

“Cum for Daddy, ‘mega,” Dean commands, his jaw set in concentration. “Want you to squirt on my cock and push, push my knot right out of you baby girl, so you can go fuck your other Daddy for me. That’s what your alpha wants, Y/N. Wanna get you dripping wet so you just slide right down on your daddy's dick. It’s fucking big, take a look. Look at what I’m about to shove inside of this tight little hole, baby girl, and tell me how much you want your daddy’s cock inside of you.”

Y/N’s body becomes almost painfully tight around him and Dean feels every muscle seize up urgently, feels the gush of slick between his legs as her body convulses around him, and with a monumental effort he drags his hips down and manages to work himself free, his daughter still shaking and jerking in his arms with the seemingly unending waves of her climax. When Dean manages to focus his vision and he catches sight of her face, he can see her whole countenance has gone slack, muscles that had been wound tighter than a spring now hanging limply beneath her skin, her eyes blinking and unfocused– just on the verge of passing out then, not actually unconscious.

He’ll have to take the opportunity to congratulate himself some other time.

Dean lets Y/N’s legs uncurl from around him and lowers her to the floor, switching position and sweeping her up into his arms bridal style in order to carry her more securely around the side of the bed to where Sam is lying. He looks like he’s asleep. Peaceful. Absolutely nothing untoward. Except Dean knows better, he’s seen this kind of thing before: the omega is fading fast.

Y/N’s POV

When you manage to struggle back to some semblance of awareness, you can feel that your pussy is still full, which soothes the foreign urgency in your body that you assume is a consequence of the pollen. But something feels different, and it takes your foggy mind a minute or two to realise what it is. No knot. The cock inside of you is big, but you don’t have the distinctive pressure at the base of your entrance that comes from being locked with Dean after he’s knotted you.

Experimentally, you squeeze your muscles around the intrusion, moaning at the sensation of how deep inside of you the tip is reaching. It feels like the cock is somewhere in your freaking chest, it's so long. You know it’s not Dean inside of you, but it takes your memory a moment to supply the name of who else it could be.

Sam– you remember with a gasp as your body unconsciously rocks itself against him, grinding your hips down onto his length.

Daddy.

Daddy’s cock is sliding wetly inside of you, and you realise now that you’re curled against his chest, his large, warm hands splayed across your back, cradling you against him. You have an absurd memory of crawling into bed with him when you were little and wrapping yourself around him just like this–minus the sexual contact, of course. That part is new, but as you give your hips another experimental swivel, still lazily feeling out a rhythm, you decide you like this part. You’re gonna add this to the routine. Not that it’s been a part of your bedtime routine in fucking years, but you have the urge to start it back up, for some reason. It seems nonsensical that you would ever consider sleeping in a different bed to Daddy–or Dean, come to think of it.

You have no idea where these thoughts are coming from, they all seem to swarm simultaneously across your mind’s eye in a haze that you don’t have the energy or desire to analyse right now, so you simply let them swarm, and focus on the feeling of rubbing your clit against the very root of Sam’s cock because you realise in a moment of astonishment, he’s not even all the way inside of you, because of the way your body is draped over his chest.

Holy fuck.

A second later, you feel an orgasm shimmering through every conscious nerve of your body, your clit drawing up and twitching against your body inside its little protective folds, trying to shrink away from the overstimulation.

“Good girl,” you hear Dean’s voice purr behind you, and you feel another hand running gently over your back as the whispers of praise drift over your skin.

Chapter 20 posting on November 15th or head to my website to binge read the rest of the fic today!

Series Tags: @outofnowhere82 @ladysparkles78 @missusbarnes-rogers @waywardandnerdy0212

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