#alpha!dean

Y/N sighed as she threw her car into park. Sitting at the back of the lot, she eyed the busy bar hesitantly. As an isolated loner and a hunter of things that go bump in the night, she didn't enjoy the socializing and hunting she was about to embark on. But the mild twinge of pain in her belly reminded her why she was there.

Bang-A-Beta night, as she took to calling her monthly need, was a biological necessity for an Omega like her. Her heat was never something she relished. As a hunter, she couldn't allow herself to mate, to bring an innocent into her chaotic life.

On top of that, she'd never had good interactions with Alphas. Truth be told, she was scared of them, especially of being claimed and belonging to another. Alphas were known for being possessive and controlling. She was independent and wasn't interested in being some Alpha's bitch. 

She wanted a partner and equal, someone who would understand and accept her life and her calling. So she made a point to never be with an Alpha, not even a True Mate—if one even existed—and resigned herself to Beta hookups that could satiate her needs and allow her to keep living her life, attachment-free.

However, her Omega side still yearned to belong to someone —her Alpha. She hated that a part of her wanted an Alpha at all. She wished she could erase it from herself entirely, but it wasn't possible. Sure, she could use suppressants and blockers to tamp down the effects of her biology and heats. But in her line of work, heightened senses were paramount, and after a few hunts gone sideways, she gave up on medications entirely.

Another twinge in her belly pushed her into action. Grabbing her things and checking her appearance, she climbed out of her car and sauntered inside. It didn't take long to find her friends, Sherry and Drew, sitting at a high table. She had met the Omegas a year ago, and a few towns over, on a case. Vampires had befallen their small village, preferring Omega victims for their rich and nourishing blood. Y/N had decapitated the foul creatures and rescued the pair, the only survivors.

She was surprised and grateful to have made friends, Omegas at that, who also knew of her hunting life. They'd invited her along on their search to find someone to help with their heats, and she'd met up with them nearly every month since.

With three Omegas in varying stages of heat, it didn't take long for people to make their way over. Drew took an immediate interest in a cute Beta who joined them. The two hit it off remarkably well, and Y/N briefly wondered if maybe Drew had landed himself a more long-term thing. It sent a pang of longing shooting through her that she drowned with the remainder of her beer.

"I'll get the next round," she offered, heading quickly to the bar. She placed her order, then glanced around the bar. It was slim pickings, for sure, and she sighed as she faced the bar again, knowing she'd likely go without.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a warm and comforting scent, which had her lifting her head to find its source. She looked to her side and found the source, a new patron she hadn't seen before, sitting with one stool between them. He was incredibly handsome and large. He was definitely an Alpha. His presence and appearance were enough if she couldn't tell by his scent. She expected to feel the familiar panic at realizing he was an Alpha, but instead, she felt a sense of calm, comfort, and familiarity.

"Hi, I'm Sam," he said with a soft smile.

"Y/N," she responded, taking another breath of his scent. 

He was starting his rut, she could tell. But it wasn't arousing her. If anything, it brought out the caregiver side of her Omega. She wanted to tuck him in bed, bring him food and water, and drag an Omega by the hair for him to fuck and knot if he needed. It was admittedly a strange reaction to have, but she didn't let herself ponder it too much.

"Have we met?" he asked, his curious gaze sweeping over her, and she couldn't fight back the hearty chuckle.

"I was just thinking the same thing. But I'm sure I'd never forget that face," she added with a playful smirk. Another cramp broke through her, harsher than before, and she winced aloud.

Sam's curiosity turned to concern as he reached out to steady her. "Are you okay?" he asked before her blossoming scent reached his nose. "Do you…wanna get out of here?" he whispered as he leaned closer.

She shook her head, feeling better now that the cramp had passed, and gently pushed his hands from her. "No, I-I don't fraternize with Alphas," she explained apologetically. He nodded and retreated in disappointment, and she felt compelled to make it right. "I'm here with friends," she pointed at her table. "I know my friend Sherry would definitely be interested."

Sam seemed to think it over, glancing back at the table, his eyes dilating at the sight of her pretty and petite friend, before looking back at Y/N with a brilliant smile. "Okay, sure, thanks."

Half an hour later, Drew and his Beta were heavily making out and drunk, and Sam and Sherry hit it off even better than she'd anticipated. Y/N, however, was ready to give up the search. She was tired and disappointed and didn't find anyone even remotely interesting to take home for the night. 

Satisfied that her friends at least found good company, she decided to call it a night. Leaving the bar, Y/N bid farewell to her friends as they matched with their conquests for the night. She sighed heavily at the fact that she was going home alone. That happened far too frequently for her liking. 

One of these days, her heat would kill her if a hunt hadn't already done her in. She was prepared for it, either way—that was the life of a hunter. And just one more reason why she could never mate and bond, could never bring someone else into her chaotic life.

Slinking away to her car, the roar of an engine made her jump as she fiddled with her keys. She stood to the side as a sleek, black Chevy Impala glided into a spot several spaces from her car in the back of the lot. Her eyes were glued to the antique beauty as she approached her car, her eyes only leaving it as she reached her driver's side door.

A loud drone of music came from within the classic car, which promptly shut off as the rumbling engine died. She heard the door creak, and a deep, gravely voice made her gasp and pause, her keys dangling in her hand. 

"What do you mean you just left?" the man growled, "I just got here."

She couldn't resist the urge to turn her head and steal a glance at the mysterious stranger with the delicious voice that tantalizingly scraped down her spine. He was gorgeous: tall and lean, with a chiseled jaw and eyes that captured the light from the street lamps and sparkled. He also had an air of danger about him that scared her to no end. She could tell from the various cuts and bruises that he had been in a fight recently. Maybe he was a professional fighter? Perhaps he was a dick, and someone put him in his place? Maybe he was in an accident? None of which seemed to detract from his unbelievable attractiveness.

Turning her attention back to her car, she struggled with her keys again, her hands shaking. While she couldn't smell the man from her position, thankfully, she could tell straight off he was an Alpha from his body to his car to how unbelievably attractive he was - all designed to lure an Omega like her. She was already fighting the effects of that alone.

She finally got her key into the door lock as a gentle breeze drifted by. It, again, made her pause as it swirled a hint of his scent her way, causing her body to spasm in need. Her heat was going to be a bitch this time, and this Alpha wasn't making it any better. She heard his footsteps pause, and she glanced at him again. He sniffed the air curiously before his searching gaze landed directly on her.

She whimpered.

Swallowing deeply and cursing under her breath, she finally opened her car, promptly dropping her keys again before she could get in.

"Hey there."

She gasped, stepping back into her open door, cursing the lack of space to get farther. He was right in front of her, about a foot between them, and he smirked as he leaned casually against the side of her car. Holy fuck, he was even more incredible up close, and some primal part of her was even more aroused by the blood and bruising that adorned him. She could smell him clearly, too; it was the best scent she'd ever encountered. 

"You seem to be struggling with your keys there," he said, picking them off the ground and handing them back to her. She gripped them tightly like a lifeline. "Are you sure you're good to drive?"

His voice, this close, rumbled through her, and she gasped for breath, but that only brought more of his scent into her lungs. It traveled through her nose and down the back of her throat, curling in her belly, and she stifled a whimper as she moved to get in the car.

Oh, this was bad.

In that instant, she knew that this stranger was her Alpha. It should have soothed her, but it only made her more panicked. She was not ready to meet her Alpha. Ever. Especially not one as potent as he, one who seemed to be the Alpha in any room he entered.

"Uh, yeah, yep, all good." She settled into the driver's seat, ready to close the door, but Alpha held onto it as he leaned down to maintain eye contact. Fuck. It was like gazing at the night sky without light pollution, with all the stars and galaxies on full display. "T-thanks."

"Good to hear," he chuckled, and she felt a little faint. "Just one question though-"

She could feel the heat growing within her and fought to control the cramps and shakiness in her body. Their eyes remained locked, and she gasped as she forced herself to break the gaze.

"Yeah?"

"Why can I smell my brother on you?"

Her eyes widened at his words - and the accompanying light growl - as she leveled him with a questioning gaze. "I, uh…your brother?"

She was confused, to say the least, but allowed herself to breathe in another lungful of his scent. Her eyes fluttered, and a hum echoed in her throat. It was divine, but she could somehow sense a hint of something vaguely familiar.

"Did you meet a Sam in there by chance?"

No. Fucking. Way. Sam was this guy's brother? That family tree must be blessed.

"Yay tall, long hair?"

"Yeah, he's got the real Disney Princess get-up," he smirked. She thought he was even ten times more handsome when he smiled and laughed. Her heart needed to stop with the acrobatics. "That's my brother. Like I said, I can smell him on you. If he did something, I'll happily kick his ass."

She laughed, somewhat nervously, and shook her head, "No, he, uh…" She let out a deep breath. "My friend and I, it's a sort of routine for us to go out on nights like this," she started, glancing at him warily. "Anyway, she and Sam, uh, left together," she shrugged, focusing on her steering wheel as her brow furrowed. "I think they went to his motel?"

"Whoa…" he seemed surprised at that. "Good for Sam, I guess," he shrugged and looked back at Y/N. "So, is this you ditching out for the night? Hey, it looks like I'm on my own now, too. You're always welcome to join me for a drink. Name's Dean, by the way." 

He grinned, his teeth bright and sharp, smile lines at the corners of his eyes. He winked, and she choked back a horrifically girlish giggle. God, why did it have to be like this? Why did her Alpha have to be so…so…fuck, he was like a walking wet dream. But no matter how much she may have wanted him, she couldn't bring him into her life. She refused to bring anyone down into her nightmare of a world.

"I should probably leave before I start attracting the wrong kind of attention," she said before looking up at him. "A-and I don't fraternize with Alphas," she added quickly, putting the keys in the ignition and starting the car. "Have a good night, Dean." 

Y/N quickly threw the car in reverse, leaving the lot. She glanced in the rearview and saw her Alpha, hands tucked into his pockets, in the mostly empty parking lot under a street lamp, his heavy, saddened gaze locked on her as she retreated. Alphas always put her on edge. She was grateful that it went as well as it did, though she cursed her biology for acting up in his presence. 

She thought Sam had thrown her through a loop, but his brother was something else entirely. Sam was beautiful, tall and built, charming and well-spoken. But his scent was more like family, which, in retrospect, would make sense if his brother was her mate.

She decided to stop at the local twenty-four-hour mart, where she grabbed snacks and water to stock up. Her heat was about to hit hard, and she wouldn't have the pleasure of a Beta to help her through this time. Damn that stupid Alpha - Dean, her mind so helpfully reminded - and his delectable scent. She'd have to stay at the motel for a few days while dealing with this heat, using toys, and more than likely calling out to the Alpha she could never have.

Gathering her bags of purchases, she tossed them into the passenger seat as she climbed behind the wheel. Somehow, she could still smell that Alpha, as if his scent clung to everything around her, but it had dissipated. Her body craved more, but she rolled down the window through sheer stubbornness as she drove to her motel, hoping the scent would be gone. She just had to endure this heat, and then she could leave the town and Alpha far behind.

-

Dean had been having a really shitty day. He had been captured, knocked out, tied up, and beaten on the hunt. Sam had to save him, which was another hit to his ego. Then they booked it, stopping at a motel a few towns over. 

He and Sam were desperate for a drink and maybe a little company for the night. His not-so-little little brother was on the edge of his rut, and Dean wasn't far behind. Sam took first dibs on the shower, and Dean allowed it because Sam had saved the day and earned it - though he wasn't about to admit it - and Sam barely had a scratch on him, so his shower would be reasonably quick.

Dean, on the other hand, needed a thorough cleaning. He had a few cuts and bruises from being beaten in captivity, but it wasn't too bad and wasn't anything he wasn't used to. It would definitely make it harder to find someone for the night, but he could always just get blackout drunk and try his luck another night, in another town.

By the time Dean finished his shower, the room was empty. He hoped his brother would've waited for him - and Sam usually would have - but Dean guessed his rut must be pretty bad this time. The hunt probably didn't help. When he arrived at the bar, he called Sam, but was pissed to find he'd already found someone and was gone. He was pissed, but to be honest, he was also a little proud.

Dean had intended to find company for the night when he pulled outside the bar, but all of that faded away the second her scent reached his nose. It was the best thing he had ever smelled in his life. Apple pie, Baby's leather, and something else he couldn't pinpoint that screamed home. He knew she was his, his Omega, his True Mate. 

It froze him in his tracks, and his eyes fluttered closed as the Omega's warmth and sweet spiciness drifted deep into his lungs. He tried to talk to her and make a connection, but she was so frightened. He wondered if some asshole Alpha made her react that way. 

His heart screamed and cracked as he helplessly watched her drive away from him, but maybe it was for the best. He couldn't bring anyone into his shitty life and condemn them to the world of the supernatural, to hunting.

After she left, he couldn't go inside the bar; her scent was the only thing his mind could or would focus on. He was initially scared of what that might mean, but quickly dismissed it. It wouldn't do him any good to linger on it. His rut was brewing under his skin, and it had been ages since he'd been with anyone, let alone an Omega. He was getting too old for this, and sooner or later, his rut or a hunt would be the death of him.

Dean frowned as he parked the Impala in front of his and Sam's motel room door. His bags sat on the stoop outside the door. He groaned and cursed under his breath, knowing his little bitch of a brother had claimed the room for the night. He knew they got the last room, which meant he'd spend the night in his car. Could his day get any fucking worse?!

Reluctantly, he retrieved his bags, and the sounds from inside the room had him scowling at the door. As pissed as Dean was for being kicked out of the room, he was happy for his brother. At least he could work out his rut and stop being such a pain in Dean's ass.

As he threw the bags in the trunk and closed it, another car pulled in several spots down the parking row. Dean squinted, recognizing the car as its owner climbed out with several store bags. The universe was seriously fucking with him hard today.

Closing up the car and turning towards her room, Y/N stopped as her eyes landed on the Alpha from the bar. Her Alpha. Dean. The one she thought she'd left behind. Her eyes widened in surprise before his scent hit her again, weakening her resolve. Her body was calling out for him, and she was genuinely pissed at how attracted she was to him. Still, she was determined to ignore the Omega inside her, crying out that this entirely desirable man is her Alpha.

She just needed to get to her room. Unfortunately, that meant walking past Dean, whose intense gaze she could feel locked on her. Panicking, she lowered her head and attempted to power-walk past him and his car to get to her room.

"Well, this would be twice where I've met you, and you've run away," Dean forced a laugh that came out awkwardly. 

He'd caught her scent again and could tell her heat was breaking through; it was much more potent than before. He began to tremble, a slight growl reverberating involuntarily from deep in his chest. 

Omega. Mine.

When she drove away, he was ready to let her go and mourn her loss. But seeing her again, twice in one night, he convinced himself to try again. Maybe the universe was pulling them together? Perhaps he just needed to try harder?

"I-I'm not interested in Alphas," she hurriedly explained as she kept moving. 

She could feel his presence and hear his steps as he followed behind her, exuding Alpha pheromones that called out to her Omega. Although she struggled to focus, she reached her door.

"Not even yours?"

She turned towards him, her eyes widened slightly, and she tried to bite back the moan from his declaration, "I'm not... you're not my-" her voice was weak, and she failed to vocalize her blatant lie. 

She was only slightly surprised he could feel it, but it confirmed what she already knew. She was more surprised that he'd called it out, and what that did to her Omega. She felt that part of her was trying to claw its way out of her body and into his, but she continued to fight it. She knew he was right, but the ordeal was terrifying, especially after she had convinced herself she didn't want or need an Alpha.

She didn't want to bring him into this life, her messy hunting life. He may be tough, with whatever he'd been through that did that to his face, but hunting and the supernatural were something else entirely. She'd seen hardened former soldiers and trained hunters alike caught in the web and die, thinking it was something simple they could handle. Eventually, they all die, brutal and bloody.

Dean dared to step closer since she seemed to forget about running away from him temporarily. He felt like he was approaching a cornered animal, trying to gain its trust so he could close in. He again wondered who or what had made her so scared of Alphas. 

"You feel it, too, don't you?" Dean said, keeping his voice low, scent as calm as possible in his rapidly declining condition, and a light smile. He tried to be as non-threatening as an Alpha on the cusp of rut could be. He was close enough to reach out and touch her, but he refrained, not sure he could handle it if she recoiled from him.

“You don’t…I’m not…” Y/N's voice was shaky, her eyes closed as her body trembled, his scent drowning out everything else. 

Her brain wouldn't function well enough to form a coherent thought. It was only her heightened threshold for pain, after a lifetime of hunting, that allowed her to conceal just how much he was affecting her partially. But he could see, smell, and hear enough to know that she wouldn't be able to walk away again. He knew he sure as hell couldn't unless she slammed the door in his face. He hoped that didn't happen. He didn't need yet another reason to sulk off to his car like a kicked puppy after the shittiest of days.

"Will you at least tell me your name, Omega?"

God, just hearing him say Omega in that tone, with his sexy voice, had her insides doing Cirque du Soleil. She could smell his rut approaching, which only made her Omega want him more. Maybe she could, just this once, have an Alpha. Maybe they could satiate each other's cycles and move on without a claim or attachment. A taste could be enough to tide her over for a lifetime.

"Y/N," she breathed. 

"Y/N," he whispered in response, and she clenched her thighs against how beautiful her name sounded on his tongue, like she was precious, something to be treasured. 

"Dean," she whined.

His responding growl told her he liked his name on her tongue, too, and she whimpered as the sound sent a particularly cruel cramp rolling through her body. She would have slumped or doubled over if Dean hadn't rushed forward to catch her. His touch was so much worse if she thought his scent had afflicted her. She was struggling to fight her biology, and she was quickly losing the battle. She'd felt everything her Omega had been craving since her first heat in that one touch. 

Dean was struggling just as much. His Alpha was clamoring for control, taking all his willpower to hold him at bay. Her scent, her touch, and the lust clouding her eyes all screamed for the Alpha to take and claim. But Dean was never that kind of Alpha and wasn't about to lose control with the one Omega he'd been waiting for.

"Alpha," she said, gently resting a hand on his chest as his arms wrapped around her and pressed their bodies together. All she wanted was to give in to her biology, to give it what it was craving - him.

He breathed heavily, chest heaving against her palm as their eyes locked. "Your heat, your scent-" he huffed, and she moaned, "Those sounds," he lowered his head to sniff delicately at her neck, "-It's driving me fucking nuts." He pressed harder into her, taking another deep breath and groaning, "I need you, Omega."

She whimpered, nodding emphatically, feeling the firm muscles of his body pressed against her. Her rational mind was quickly dissolving into nothing, leaving only the Omega at the mercy of her Alpha. Her head dropped to his shoulder as her body shook with more cramps, her temperature rose rapidly, and her jeans grew uncomfortable from the slick she produced. Her cheeks heated up at the realization that he could probably smell it, and she whined again.

"Alpha," was all she could mutter as her hands clung to him.

"Fuck," he groaned into her neck, allowing his lips to trail across her skin. 

He could taste the salty droplets of sweat that had collected on her body as her temperature rose dramatically. Her skin was hot, and her scent intensified so fiercely that he thought he would drown in it. He clenched his teeth, feeling the painful bulge straining against his jeans as he ground his hips into her involuntarily. 

He snaked his fingers through her hair on either side of her head, pulling her to look him in the eyes before he harshly collided his mouth with hers. A growl rumbled across his lips as he deepened the kiss quickly, pushing her against the wall as moans vibrated in his throat. 

"If there weren't laws against it, I'd have you right here and now," he whispered across her lips.

"Silly laws," she moaned, trying to make a joke, but her voice was already so wrecked.

"We should go to your room," Dean uttered against her lips, their scents intense even in the open air. He looked around, ensuring no one was in sight. "Like...now."

Grinning and chuckling, she pushed him back enough to move away from the wall, took him by the hand, and dragged him to her room. Dean paused to scoop up her forgotten purchases from the walkway before letting her lead him to her room. Slamming the door behind them, Dean dropped her bags on the table, slowly letting his eyes take in all of Y/N as she stood before him. 

"A-are you okay?" Dean stuttered, his head foggy and thick with urges. 

It wasn't the first time he'd hooked up with someone he barely knew. It wasn't the first time he had someone to help him through his rut, or to help an Omega through their heat. Yet, everything was different because this wasn't just someone. 

"I've never been with an Alpha. But I... I'm okay," she nodded and bit her lip. 

Swallowing hard and closing her eyes against the painfully consuming heat, she swayed on her feet slightly. All these feelings and sensations were unlike anything she'd felt or experienced before. It frightened and excited her at once, leaving her thoroughly confused and hazy, with her need for Dean as the only thing she could focus on.

"You don't need to be scared," he said, closing the distance between them and snaking an arm around her waist. "I mean, if you'll have me-" he leaned back into her neck, breathing deeply and letting her scent flood him "-I'll protect you." He softly kissed her skin, moving along her collarbone with each statement. "I'll take care of you" -another kiss, deeper with a nip on the skin- "I'll fucking worship you." His hand bunched in her hair as his lips connected with her eager mouth again, hoping she'd let him prove his words. 

With every word, touch, and kiss, she became dizzy, drunk on all that was Dean. She trembled and moaned as he continued placing kisses along her neck and shoulders. Sighing softly, her hands roamed his body, fingers digging into his back to pull him closer, wholly caught up in what he was doing to her.

Dean was lost, too. He found every inch of her neck to kiss, trailing along her jaw and back up to her lips, where he groaned and captured them hungrily. He pulled back for a moment, kicking off his boots and removing his layers of shirts - and she was quick to do the same, sounds of fabric tearing from both as they rushed to reveal themselves - before diving back in to devour her mouth, guiding her back towards the bed with his hands firmly on her hips.

She was down to her bra and panties, Dean left in his jeans that were rapidly growing uncomfortable, as they landed in a heap on the bed, the old springs groaned from the sudden weight. They let their eyes roam, and Dean noticed she had a couple of gnarly scars - including one that looked like a bite in her side, just above her hip - and a few smaller ones scattered about.

He wondered if she had been in an accident or had a nasty fight. Maybe it was a bad relationship, and that's why she didn't like or trust Alphas. He focused on the healed bite - not a mating type, but hateful, angry, and deep - and ran his fingers gently over the marred skin. She flinched, and he knew she was worried about his thoughts. He leaned down and gently kissed over the wound with the gentlest of touches.

He lifted his eyes to hers, glad to see her watching him, and asked, "What happened?"

Y/N cupped Dean's cheek, and her heart fluttered when he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. She knew she couldn't tell him the truth. He'd think she was crazy and probably walk out on her. She wouldn't blame him. But she couldn't exactly lie to him either.

"Was a bad run-in with a ghoul of a man," she lightly chuckled, trying to brush off its severity. But Dean's gaze remained concerned as his fingers fluttered over another, the same questioning gaze meeting hers. "A real shifty bitch who jumped out from an alley," she sighed and closed her eyes. 

She knew he couldn't grasp her meaning, but it was enough truth to scrape by. God, she wanted his questions to stop before she revealed something she couldn't brush off.

"I've just had shitty luck most of my life," she shrugged.

Dean had quite a few scars, which made her wonder about him. Her fingers drifted over a peculiar cluster against his shoulder. 

He chuckled and shrugged, like she had, "Tripped and fell out a pane window."

He couldn't explain to her that he was tackled through that window by a two-hundred and sixty-pound werewolf. The glass shattered, and Sam later had to pick out the glass remnants with tweezers.

Instead, he covered her body with his and kissed her passionately as his hands ran under her back to undo and remove her bra. Y/N moaned against his lips, and he responded by grinding his hips against her and slipping his tongue in her mouth when she gasped from the friction.

"You're mine," Dean said admiringly, grazing a thumb along her cheek. 

His solid claim had her cupping his face and drawing his lips back to hers, whimpering as another cramp rolled through her. "Alpha…" she breathed against his lips. "Please."

"Fuck…" he growled into her neck, his hips rolling into hers of their own accord. "Say 'please' again."

"You like begging, Alpha?" she teased, nipping at his bottom lip and tugging on the waist of his jeans. "Make me," she challenged, her lips hovering against his.

"Oh yeah?" his eyes turned dark as he smirked knowingly. "You need to be careful what you wish for, Omega."

He tucked his finger beneath the cotton, his large hands stretching the material too far, and there was a small rip in one of the seams. He ignored it, burrowing beneath her panties until he found her swollen, sensitive clit, grazing his fingertip lightly on the bundle of nerves. He felt another rumble of a growl in his throat as he watched her jaw pop open with a gasp at the contact. He drew a long stroke with his finger, gliding through her folds and gathering her slick. 

"Fuck…" he moaned lowly, feeling his hair stand on end.

She gazed up at him, her jaw slack. His skin was slightly red, sweat glistening on his exposed torso. His muscles bunched with tension, and she could tell he was torturing himself as much as her. She flashed him a half-smile, tugging on one side of her mouth. 

"Dean," she breathed out, "Alpha," she whined, gyrating her hips for more friction. The pleading was on the tip of her tongue, and she bit her lip to stifle it as her hands reached up for him, roaming across his skin hungrily.

He breathed out through clenched teeth before looking at her with a dark smirk. He took her roaming hands firmly, guiding them towards his jeans and placing them near the button. He leaned forward, pushing his chest into her before crashing against her lips with a hungry moan.

Her hands worked quickly to undo his jeans, reaching her hand into his boxers and teasingly grazing the tip of her fingers and nails across his hardened length before wrapping her hand around him and stroking in long, smooth, slow strokes.

"Fuck, Baby," he breathed, his head dropping slightly to watch her hands working him. He bit his bottom lip, breathing deeply before sinking his face into her neck. He rolled his hips in her hands, humming lowly, and his hot breath fanned across her skin.

She smirked, feeling his body shake as he held himself back. She ran her thumb over the head, collecting the precum, and slicked her hand back over him, "Now, who's gonna beg?" she whispered against his neck.

His hips stilled, and he breathed a long, low chuckle against her neck. "Sweetheart," he retorted, "You think you're in control right now? That's cute." He swiftly drew his hips back, releasing himself from her touch before he grasped her wrists with one massive hand and held them above her head. 

"That's called a false sense of security," he tittered, enjoying himself far too much, "If you're going to make me lose control, there's only one moment where that's gonna happen." He arched over her, breathing in her scent as he looked directly into her eyes, "And that's when I'm inside that sweet pussy, fucking you to oblivion and knotting you so. Damn. Tight."

"Really?" she panted heavily, her bravado crumbling as she tried to wriggle against his grasp and keep from giving over to her Omega side completely. She tilted her head up, barely touching his lips with her own, "Seems like you're all talk, Alpha."

"Never stop doing that," Dean grinned. "Keep talking back; it'll just make it all the sweeter when you keep coming over and over and over." 

He shuffled his knees, placing them both between her thighs and spreading her open for him, holding her wrists tight with one hand; his other snaked down to her entrance, stilling just in her folds while his hard cock rested on top of her mound. 

"'Cause that's what's happening first before I take you, Omega."

She whimpered, her heat making it nearly impossible for her to think, his proximity and actions making her remarkably desperate. Feeling him so close but still being teased was maddening, and she just wanted him inside her, around her, taking her. 

"Alpha, please," she whispered, almost inaudible, her head turned into the pillow.

"What was that?" Dean said teasingly, "Did you say please?" 

Before she could react, two fingers plunged deep into her aching core. Dean grunted, and his cock twitched as he felt them become quickly drenched, and a heat jolted through him. He sank them in as deep as he could, twisting and scissoring before harshly pulling them out and pounding back in with a third.

"You're so hot…" he breathed, watching her expressions and gasps as she squirmed and her walls fluttered around his curved fingers. He firmly brushed them on that sweet spot, biting his tongue with a smirk. "I can't wait to see what you look like when my cock is inside you." 

He released his hold on her hands, guiding one down to his hard dick and holding it around his shaft. "Feel how hard I am for you?" he asked, closing his eyes as he moved her hand along him. "Do you want me inside you, Omega?"

"Yes," she cried out desperately, sitting up and wrapping her arms and legs around him, pulling herself tightly to him. "Yes, please," she whispered against his lips, grinding her wet folds along his length. "Please, please, please…" she begged.

"Cum first," he demanded, his fingers now relentlessly pounding into her. 

His thumb brushed up to her clit, rubbing quick, fast circles. He clutched the back of her hair, and his body pushed down, pressing his throbbing cock into her belly. His head dropped to her chest, drowning in her intensifying scent and hungrily capturing a nipple between his teeth. The tip of his tongue drew hot, wet circles around it before he sucked deeply with a hungry moan.

The combination of overwhelming sensations had her coming hard, screaming out his name as her whole body rolled against him, the climax providing little relief from the heat as her body begged for more. 

"Oh God," she breathed out, her hips still wiggling.

Dean's eyes were dark and completely blown with lust. His jaw clenched with a growl as his hips drew back, the head of his cock nudging her entrance before he wasted no time in slamming through to the hilt. He felt his muscles tense as a loud grunt of pleasure burst from his lips. He stilled, letting her adjust to him, but his hips twitched with impatience. He whispered minor curses before glancing into Y/N's eyes like he was waiting for permission.

Her eyes softened as she met his gaze, and she swallowed hard, trying to control the swelling of her heart as she connected with him. She relaxed, a moment of clarity, as she lifted her hand and ghosted her fingers down his nose and across his cheek. 

"My Alpha," she whispered sweetly, submitting to him completely, leaning up to capture his lips and undulating her hips against him to encourage him to move.

Her words flooded his senses and looped in his mind. A heat coursed through his body in reaction to her submission. He deepened the kiss quickly, so much so that he was devouring her mouth. In a brief moment for air, he growled, "Mine," promptly pulling his hips back and slamming hard back into her with a smack. 

The strokes were long but fast, the slap of skin mingling in the air with Dean's grunts and Y/N's moans and cries. He cursed with another growl, shoving his arm under her lower back to raise her to meet him and fuck even deeper. 

She felt herself climbing rapidly, Dean reaching depths she had never felt before, his girth stretching her wide in the most delicious ways. She briefly thought that he had ruined her for any man, ever. But somehow, she didn't care. She held onto him, pleas and encouragement falling from her lips.

As she came undone beneath him, Dean gazed upon her in awe, clenching his teeth against how tight and good she felt around him. He swiftly pulled out and flipped her to her stomach, lifted her hips, and leaned over her as he entered her again from behind. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, and his Alpha purred as he took her properly.

"Alpha, please," Y/N purred as she gripped the sheets. "Need your knot. Please, Dean…" she whined frantically.

He groaned loudly, nuzzling against her skin and panting as his pace grew impossibly quick. His fingers dug bruisingly into her hips as he held her tight to him. He leaned into her neck from behind as whines, grunts, moans, and curses washed over each other. He could feel she was already close to another orgasm, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could hold off.

"I'm gonna knot you, My Omega," he said lowly. "And when we're done, I'm gonna do it again, and again tomorrow. Do you want that, Y/N?" he hovered his lips over her neck and nipped at the skin.

She desperately wanted it, wanted all of him. But her brain swam through the fog of lust to remind her that, while she was on birth control, she was not on suppressants, and she feared it might not be enough against his potent Alpha seed. Especially since he was her mate. Luckily, she carried emergency contraceptive pills in case any survivors on her hunts needed them, which, unfortunately, happened too often.

She felt herself right on the edge, her moans and gasps at his words igniting her further. "Yes, Alpha, please," she pleaded, clinging to him.

He growled, pounding hard into her, grunts bursting from him with each slam. He felt himself swelling, gradually locking in pace as he started to struggle to move, so instead, he chose to push as deep as he could with a long moan. "Cum on my knot," he ordered, "Wanna feel you cum all over me."

She wailed, feeling his knot stretching her impossibly wider. She screamed out as she came hard, her body trembling with the force of it, as her body practically seized from the pleasure. 

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he felt her walls flutter and clench around him erratically. He could feel the pressure building in his swollen knot before suddenly roaring and sucking harshly over her gland, careful not to bite, despite his teeth aching to sink in, as his hips jittered and long, hot ropes of warmth gushed deep inside Y/N. He moaned into her skin when a second flurry of ropes shot into her before he finally sighed out, slumping slightly on top of her and panting.

She went limp beneath him, sinking into the bed, his body covering hers like a blanket. She felt warm and secure and utterly satiated. It was a peace and contentment she'd only dreamed of before.

"I never knew meeting my Alpha would be like this," she said. "Never thought I'd meet my Alpha."

Dean rolled them onto their sides to wait as his knot eased. But he couldn't stop his hands wandering or his mouth teasing along her body. "Me neither…" Dean mumbled. "I just want to enjoy it tonight...deal with the details tomorrow. Just be with you."

She nodded, suddenly exhausted, and allowed herself to drift off to sleep. 

-

Dean woke in the middle of the night, his bladder screaming for release. He was momentarily confused as he looked around the room, but the second his eyes landed on the Omega asleep beside him, he grinned sleepily. She had shifted to her stomach, her head turned away from him, one knee hiked, and he could see his seed coating her thighs.

He licked his bottom lip and bit down before shaking his head and slowly moving from the bed to the bathroom. He couldn't believe he'd found his True mate, the omega most perfectly meant for him. He hadn't told Sam, and he wasn't sure how he was going to break it to her that he was an unemployed hunter of monsters. But for the time being, he was happy, and he hoped to stay that way as long as possible.

Dean eagerly made his way back to the bed, hoping to hold her or even wake her for another round if she wasn't too tired. Eyes fixed on her silhouette in the bed, he didn't notice her duffel bag on the floor in the darkness shrouding the room. He cursed silently and hopped around on one foot as he stubbed his toe into the bag, which definitely should not have been as heavy and full of hard objects that weren't clothes.

He paused and stood completely still as Y/N shifted in her sleep, lay on her back, turned her head towards where he was supposed to be lying, and settled back into slumber. He let out a sigh of relief, then looked down at the floor to see one of her bags, a green canvas duffel. It was a lot like his own, or any you could pick up at an Army surplus store. He glanced at her again before he crouched down and quietly opened the bag.

There were clothes on top, which didn't surprise him, but also wouldn't explain what he'd hit with his foot. As he dug a little deeper, though, he found a large hunting knife, a small silver dagger, a pistol and sawed-off shotgun, and a box of extra ammo for each. He zipped up the bag and stood, thinking over its contents. It was exactly like any bag a hunter would pack, but it could just as easily be a well-armed civilian with a dark past.

"Dean?" Her sleepy voice drew his attention. She sat up and rubbed her eyes as she focused on him in the dark. "What are you doing?"

"I, uh, just stubbed my toe," he hastily explained.

She reached and turned on the bedside lamp, then looked over Dean again in confusion. She looked at his feet, as if she could see an injury, then her eyes flashed to her bag on the floor. The zipper wasn't fully closed, and a piece of cloth protruded from the small gap. Her eyes shot back to him and narrowed.

"Did you go through my bag?" she asked, getting to her feet, quickly tugging on her panties and a t-shirt that happened to be his, and did things to him that weren't very helpful at the moment.

"Why do you have all of that?" he asked, trying to be as gentle as he could. He was very aware that maybe the weapons and the fact that she was so against Alphas might have something to do with one another, and whatever might have gone down in her past.

Y/N was immediately on guard. It wasn't the first time one of her dates had seen her travel gear, and it never ended well when it did happen. Usually resulted in them calling her shady and leaving. Maybe it was for the best. She couldn't bring Dean down into her world, no matter how much she wanted to stay with him.

"Protection," she spat as she grabbed up her clothes and got dressed. But Dean still stood in his boxer briefs, eyeing her in silence as she moved about. "Why are you just standing there?" she huffed, feeling on edge and overly defensive. "Aren't you going to interrogate me or storm out in a huff?" she demanded.

Dean took a deep breath as he stared her down, as if conducting recon on a hunt. He wasn't sure how he was gonna tell his True Mate about his life of hunting, or how they'd even work out being together. But now, Dean suspected he might not have to worry.

"Are you a hunter?" he flat-out asked, and his eyes narrowed, and hers widened.

"What?" He couldn't be a hunter like her, could he? He had to mean something else, like an animal hunter or maybe even a bounty hunter. Maybe he was in trouble with the law. "W-what could I possibly hunt?" she chuckled awkwardly, his intense gaze almost seeing through her like a laser.

"Of nightmares that lurk in the dark," he said. "Are you a hunter?" He repeated as he stepped closer to her, his voice deep and rough with Alpha command. "Because I am."

"You're a hunter?" Was the first thing that came out of her mouth. Her heart raced as she realized that maybe she didn't need to hide from it anymore.

"Dean Winchester," he enunciated with a smirk.

Her eyes widened, having recognized the last name at least. "As in caused the apocalypse? I thought you had died?" she asked, confused.

The Winchester brothers were legendary among hunters. Well…infamous was probably a better word. Notorious, even. And Dean - who, last she heard around hunting circles, had died, for like the umpteenth time, which was fucking bizarre - was her Alpha.

Dean scratched the back of his neck as he awkwardly responded, "Yeah." He chuckled nervously and dropped his arms, "Among other things." She looked stunned, and he wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing. He glanced at his shoulder and the scars she'd brought up earlier. "This was actually a werewolf. Tackled me through one of those big shop windows," he chuckled as his cheeks and ears pinkened.

Slowly, a grin spread on her face, and she chuckled at the utter ridiculousness, but also in relief. Her hand brushed over the bite scar in her side, and her smile faded as she looked at him. "This was a ghoul," she explained. "He knocked me on my ass and took a chunk out of me," she shook her head. "After he was dead, I spent the night in a motel trying to patch myself up between stints of passing out. Thought for sure I wasn't gonna make it," she breathed shakily.

"You were alone?" Dean asked and reached out to comfort her. It felt instinctual, but so did the way she voluntarily allowed it. He smirked to himself as he thought about her words and how she had told him the truth about her injuries in a roundabout way.

She shrugged, glad for his touch to ground her. "I always have been."

He sucked in a sharp breath, "You don't have to be alone ever again," he insisted, leaning down a little to meet her eyes. He hugged her tight and breathed in her scent, his heart racing with the thought he could have lost her before ever finding her.

It all seemed just a little easier, more possible, knowing she knew about hunting and the life. They still had a long road ahead of them, and Dean hoped to one day earn his claim on her neck. But for now, he had to wrap his head around finding his mate and telling his brother. It would change their dynamic, and he wasn't sure Sam would be willing to fold another into the fray. But that was a problem for the morning.

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“She’s fucking jammed in there good. We need to cut her out.” You blinked open your eyes slowly, very aware of how…off the world seemed. Your head was killing you, that was for sure. Something about the fact you were upside down in your car told you that had something to do with it.

Lazily you turned your head at the scent of vanilla and tobacco, humming at the pleasant smell in the otherwise metallic and burnt rubber scented air. Beside you, crawled in your passenger window on his back, laying on top of your roof was a pair of gorgeous green eyes staring back.

“She’s awake!” called the man, his attention on you the whole time. “Hey, sweetheart. You were in an accident. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“Smell pretty,” you murmured, fighting off the urge to pass out again. “I’m gonna…”

“Miss. Miss, try to-”

Dean’s POV

“Fuck, she’s out cold again,” I said. I could see where her door was pinned against her left side. It’d be a miracle if she hadn’t shattered her hip or femur. My stomach churned once more, hands gripping the center console that was partially cracked and pushed forward. 

This was not how this was supposed to happen. You don’t meet your true mate in a goddamn car wreck when she’s critically injured. You just don’t.

And now there was another problem.

Alpha’s were notoriously protective of their mates, especially true mates. That instinct skyrocketed when they were injured, even something as small as a cut thumb.

Seeing, smelling, my true mate when she was broken and battered and hurt out of her mind?

Yeah, there was no way I was going to be able to physically get away from this little omega.

“Winchester! Let the medic get in there and we’ll work on getting the driver's door off,” called Benny. My gut said to stay but I also knew she needed someone more qualified than me to attend to her at this moment. Reluctantly, I climbed out and ran around to the outside of the car, a few guys already working on ripping the metal apart.

“She’s got the neck brace on!” called the EMT. “We’re ready for whenever she’s loose.”

Twenty minutes later we finally had the door off, a backboard slipped underneath her and she was being pulled out of the vehicle.

The EMT’s packed her up and somehow she wasn’t bleeding out. There was always the chance for internal injuries though. I wandered over to the back of the ambulance, climbing into the back much to the displeasure of the two EMT’s.

“What the hell are you doing Dean?” said Benny. I chucked my helmet at him, Benny barely catching it. “De-“

“She’s my true mate. I can’t…I need to go.” He sighed but nodded. 

“Let him ride with you. I’ll pick him up at county later. Dean?” I nodded as they started to close the doors. “Listen to the doctors and stay out of their way. That’s how you can keep her safe.”

I nodded as they shut the doors, my focus going to the woman strapped to the stretcher. She looked so broken, covered in blood and scrapes.

I squeezed her hand, a gentle twitch of her finger in my palm. 

“You’ll be okay, Omega. I promise.”

Reader’s POV

You blinked open your eyes slowly, grateful this time you were right side up. The bed was soft and warm even if your body felt achy. A buzz was thrumming through your veins as you looked down, the drugs in your system keeping you calm as you took in the sight. 

Your entire left leg was bruised. Literally every spec of skin was bruised. 

And then you saw the monstrous contraption encasing it, pins holding your thigh in place. Beeping rang through the room as your heart rate shot up, eyes fixated on your wiggling toes.

“Okay. Okay, I can still walk,” you breathed out, inhaling deeply. “Hopefully.”

A wave of exhaustion hit as the door opened, an Alpha!nurse walking inside. “Well good evening Y/N! How are we feeling?”

“Shitty.” You frowned and closed your eyes again.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, checking the monitors and then bending your arms. 

“Uh. I was driving on the highway and then I woke up here,” you said, nose twitching. “Something smelled pretty.”

He just hummed and checked your leg that wasn’t secure, offering you a smile. “I’m going to check a few things and then I’ll bring the doctor in.”

An hour later you were laying back in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to wrap your head around everything the doctor had said. Intensive physical therapy would be needed for months and even then your leg may never be a hundred percent again. You had a concussion and wouldn’t be able to drive a car for six months most likely. You’d need to take a leave of absence from work. Although that one might not be that bad actually considering how stressful it’d been lately.

On top of all that, apparently there was some creeper Alpha firefighter hanging out in the waiting area. 

Waiting for you.

Because your day hadn’t been unsettling enough as it was.

Before long you were fast asleep, hoping that tomorrow you’d wake up and find out this was just a nightmare.

“Good morning Y/N!” said your nurse, Alfie. You twitched your eye, not deterring his chipper mood one bit. “Feeling any better today?”

“We’re going to have problems if you’re always this bubbly when I wake up, Alfie,” you grumbled, sighing as pain shot up your leg. “If you could just do me a favor and cut off my leg, that’d be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t be drastic, Y/N. I know the doctor wants to wean you off the pain medicine as soon as possible but it shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Did he shatter his femur yesterday? No? When he does he can talk to me about taking away my pain meds,” you said, hitting the button for morphine but nothing coming out. “Alfie. I need something.”

“The doctor gave strict orders to have you on only over the counter-”

“It fucking hurts!” you shouted, surprised at how agitated you were. Normally you were always kind and polite to strangers. But this? You were in pain and you didn’t have the patience to be a socially acceptable human being today.

Alfie looked sympathetic but his reply was cut off when a man with disheveled hair and dirty clothes came barging in the room. Strike that. The creeper Alpha firefighter that was stalking you outside was suddenly barging in the room.

“What are you doing to her?” he spat out, venom in every word. You could hear him audibly growl as he stalked over to Alfie, the poor Alpha shrinking back like he was an Omega cornered in a dark alley.

“Hey! Get out of…” you paused when you caught his scent. The heart rate monitor beeped dangerously fast, both of them turning to you. The scary Alpha firefighter suddenly made you calm, his scent giving off clear signals.

Relax Omega. You’re safe and protected.

“You can’t be in here,” said Alfie as he got his wits back. He grabbed the firefighter, shrieking when the man growled so loud it sounded like he’d gone feral. 

“Alfie’s right,” you said, pain filling your heart as you breathed deeply. You had no idea who this Alpha was but you knew his instincts were in overdrive. “You’re filthy and this is an ICU. Go home and clean yourself up. Come back this afternoon and we’ll talk then. That’s an order, Alpha.”

“Yes, omega,” he said softly, nodding once. “Are you okay?”

“Later, Alpha.” He apologized briefly to Alfie before leaving, Alfie relaxing when his scent went with him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t know how you got him to believe you like that. He was this close to snapping.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s my true mate.” Alfie raised his eyebrow and cocked his head.

“We can do a blood test. And make him take one too before we let him back in. On second thought, that’s absolutely happening.”

You raised a hand, wincing as pain pulsated through your leg. “Tell him I asked him to please take the test so he doesn’t take it out on the staff. Please.”

“Will do.” He paused as he exited the room. “I’ll talk to the doctor about your pain meds, see if we can make the steps down not so drastic.”

“Thanks Alfie.”

You were tired when you woke up after lunch and physical therapy. So much so you could barely open your eyes. You wouldn’t think you could be all that physical with a damn broken femur but after they moved and worked you to the point of shouting, you’d changed your mind quickly.

A large, calloused hand stroked your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that fell. The air smelled sweet, like pine and vanilla. “Omega. How can I help the pain?”

“You being here helps,” you murmured, his long fingers brushing away more tears. You squeezed your eyes when pain ripped through you. “They say I don’t need the morphine but I only can sleep today when I’m exhausted from the pain. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through this.”

“With me, Omega. I’ll talk to the doctors. You were injured only a day ago. They must  have missed something if it hurts so badly.” He bent down and kissed your temple, your eyes fluttering open. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

You stared up into his green eyes, surprised to find him smiling at you. “Why are you so handsome?”

“Makes up for my lack of singing ability,” he chuckled. He brushed your hair behind your ear, his scent coming off in powerful waves to soothe you. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier. I know you don’t quite know me but I was one of the responders to your accident and when I scented you…my instincts went a little crazy.”

“It’s alright,” you whispered, a flash of pain rising up again. “Can you find the doctor?”

“Yes Omega,” he murmured. “Try to rest.” He got up from the nearby seat and hummed. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N,” you said, shutting your eyes once more.

“I’ll make it better Y/N. I promise.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hey,” said Dean when he entered your hospital room. “I heard you’re getting discharged today.”

You grumbled from bed, wearing one of his fire station hoodies. He pulled the curtains open, smiling wide as you tugged the hood up. 

“Aren’t you excited to be getting out of here?” He had a point. You were happy to be leaving, with some pain medication too. But your leg was still incredibly fucked and you couldn’t go back to your apartment. Not when it was on the third floor. Dean luckily lived in a ranch style but you hated imposing on him.

“I wish I didn’t have to move in with you.” His smile fell as you groaned. “I meant like this. Because I’m hurt and can’t be alone. I wish we could be like a normal pair of mates.”

“Hey,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed by my good leg, lightly stroking over the bonding gland in my neck. “We are normal. We just need to practice a bit more patience than other true mates.”

“You mean how I can’t have sex for months until my leg is healed. It’s going to drive both of us crazy to wait.”

“We can bond, just without the knotting. We’re already scent bonded and as long as we don’t stay away from each other for too long-“

“You mean an hour tops? You’re stuck by my side for the next three months minimum. I might not walk correctly again. I might always-“

He put his hand over your mouth, annoyance rising in your veins. 

“I’m your Alpha, even if you don’t bear my mark yet. I never want to hear you say you think I’m stuck with you. Being with you is the only thing I could ever want. We will figure this out and I will not mate you until you are fully recovered. Am I clear, Omega?”

The use of your title from his lips sent fuzzy, calming feelings throughout your body, your head nodding without thinking. Large fingers gently stroked your cheek, a soft hum escaping him.

“Are you ready to go home with me?” 

“Okay, Alpha. You can take me home.”

“You all set?” asked Dean later that evening. You were in bed, leg propped up on some pillows. Dean had spent the day with you, helping you get discharged and set up his house so it was a bit more friendly for you to get around in. 

“As good as I can be,” you said, watching him disappear into the closet, returning in a fire station shirt and a pair of skinny black joggers. “You have work?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. Just getting comfy for the night. I can order us some food. I’m sure you’re starving.”

“A little,” you said, Dean sitting beside you, urging you to curl into his side. “Thank you for helping me that day. The accident.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I’m just happy you’re still here. You got lucky.”

“Hell of a way to meet your mate.” He hummed, quietly stroking your bare arm with the tips of his fingers. “I’m really glad I’m not doing this on my own.”

“You’ll never be on your own ever again, Omega. I promise.”

“I know, Alpha. My leg might never heal the same way but at least I got one good thing out of this situation.” He smiled, brushing your hair behind your ear. “This comfy ass bed.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk, kissing the top of your head before he got up. “Alright. With that, I’m off to go be your manly Alpha and hunt down some food for us.”

“You mean order takeout?” you teased. He tossed a pillow at you, laughing lightly.

“For that I’m ordering pineapple on the pizza.” You dropped your jaw, Dean laughing a bit harder, his scent the calmest you’d ever smelled it. “I’m kidding. I’m not deranged.”

“Good cause true mates or not, that is not happening,” you said. 

“Glad we can agree on it,” he said. “What about a supreme?”

“Now we’re talking,” you said. He left the room with a nod, returning a few minutes later with a soft smile. “What?”

“Nothing. Just really glad to finally have found you. It’s…easy with you.”

You knew what he meant, patting the spot next to you. He returned to your side with a smile, pulling you to rest against his chest. His scent filled the air, a relaxed cozy feeling settling in your bones.

“Yes, yes it is Alpha,” you said, taking a deep inhale, exhaling slowly. “It absolutely is.”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Eight thirty-six. Just great. Two minutes since the last time you checked, and it wasn’t going any quicker, no matter how many glances you stole towards the clock above the kitchen table. 

Your phone was the same, only you’d placed it in the pocket of your dress so as not to look at it. 

Worked a charm. Not. 

The weight against your thigh was heavy. 

You sighed. Drew it out. There was no point focusing on why Dean hadn’t called you. He was busy working. Out saving lives. If whatever that thing in Kentucky was ended up being in their wheelhouse, like Sam thought. 

A vitala. Betala? 

Something like that.

Point was, he’d promised he’d call first thing after he’d finished with the sheriff, and it’d been a good hour since the office had opened. You’d checked. 

It didn’t matter that you’d missed his call before it. He hadn’t said before, he’d said after, hence why you’d been sleeping. He should’ve known that, even though he was state lines away. You might’ve been cranky at first, but you were pissed now. Same difference.

“Where the hell is he?” you said aloud, and your omega gladly projected.

‘He’s out drinking.’ 

“No, he’s not.” He wasn’t Ritchie. Dean was Dean, and Dean always came home as soon as he could. Hell, he’d race across the country to get back to you, given an emergency. 

And maybe you could—nope. Bad idea. You were above making one up, even to get him home faster. Even when your omega suggested things like, ‘Tell him the pup is coming.’ 

“I can’t do that,” you snapped. Hit the chopping board rather hard. Then he’d never come home on account of the heart attack he’d be having in the middle of Kentucky. 

You repositioned your fingers around the knife handle, continuing the slicing of your last banana. How firm you continued to hit the wood below was because of how hungry you were, and not for anything more sinister involving your alpha’s knot.

Dean would come home soon, you told yourself. Call you soon. Then you’d laugh about how worked up you’d made yourself—just—after the pup was born. 

Definitely after. 

You threw the sticky slices on top of your overnight oats. Wiped your fingers on the scrunched up towel on the bench next to you and moved to the sink to pick out the blueberries and strawberries you’d left thawing. Plenty of vitamin C to go with the iron supplements Doctor Cameron had you on. Frozen on account of not being able to do a grocery run without Dean flipping his lid.

Hypocrite. 

He was happy to tell you not to go out while he was away, though nothing was stopping you from following his warning either. You’d even considered taking a car out of the garage, going as far as trudging down there and sitting in the little green one you’d often sat on while he worked on Baby. Only inside, the old thing was much smaller than it looked from the outside.

Yeah. You didn’t want fresh fruit and waffles after all. 

So, with your vitamins and teacup in one hand, sad-looking berries and oats in the other, you moved to the table, back not quite against the wall. The clock would no longer get you down from that angle and your pocket had dropped further, hanging below the stool, out of sight, out of mind. Except you needed some music to drown out the ticking playing you. 

Of course, pulling out your phone meant being reminded that Dean still hadn’t called, but it didn’t matter for long. Like absence, making the heart grow fonder, the law of attraction worked just as well. The ringtone you’d dedicated to your mate played through the layers of fabric and your heart skipped a beat. 

It was a message.

Eight forty-one, and he’d sent a fucking message.

More people missing. Call you soon as we’re done.

Dean reread the words he’d typed over in his head, though why he was so bothered by a stupid text was lost on him.

He’d hit send and shoved his phone back into the pocket of his suit pants, stepping into the interrogation room, an arm’s length behind Sam. Only for his nose to pick up the sweet smell of popcorn and crisp apple. 

Yeah. That had to be some kind of mind fuckery right there. The universe telling him he was a dick before he’d even entered the room. 

He was just trying to do his job. They weren’t getting paid enough to have Sheriff Aldrin look at them like that. Hell, they weren’t getting paid at all. Not that he knew that, or that Dean blamed him for the chip on his shoulder.

With his arms crossed, standing tall, much like he’d done when they’d asked about Alec and Gavin out front, he was still a tough nut to crack. 

But there in that room? 

That was his daughter they were questioning, not just another civilian. Surrounded by weed, sweat and stains from god-knows-what on the cold cement walls. 

The room was freezing. The lights dim. And he was well within his rights to be indifferent when tears marred her face and stress laced her scent. Dean wouldn’t want you stepping within a foot of this place, pregnant or not.

“Hi Molly?” Sam said to the omega. Her steel eyes, bleary and the whites red, perked up and out from under the bangs covering her face. She had her father’s jaw. Only, there wasn’t an extra layer of flesh and skin covering hers. 

She nodded, then sniffed, bringing an overused tissue to the crowns of her cheeks, dabbing and making them brighter than they already were. “Daddy said you wanted to talk to me?” She forced a smile.

“Yeah, ah, I’m Agent Young.” Sam pulled out a chair. “This is Agent Johnson.” 

He sat down, and Dean followed suit. His gaze trained on the way Molly held herself. If he placed her on the edge of an exam table, panties down, ammonia from disinfectant in the air, she’d…yeah, nope. It sounded wrong even in his own head. 

He shook it, tacking into Sammy’s introduction before he’d finished clearing it. “We’re here investigating the local disappearances and couldn’t help overhear—”

“You think they’re missing, too?” she cut him off in turn. Her hands, not knowing what to do with themselves, fisted and flailed, breaking the tissue apart until the sheriff barged forward with another.

His fingers gripped her shoulders tight, but the scowl he gave pierced Dean’s chest tighter again. 

His burly form, presumed earlier to be filled with donuts and cheap coffee, hinted at muscle and a bite worth more than his bark. Though, “It’s not even nine, darlin’,” he’d soothed like a giant teddy bear. Voice soft, and a distinctive coo in his thick, southern accent. “‘Sides. Troy probably lost reception. You know the lake’s not the best for that.”

And there it was. The coup de grâce. The case was done and dusted before it had even begun, and Dean rolled his eyes. Should’ve called it over letting Sam insist the omega be forced to sit through their questions. 

The scene before him was making so much more sense now, and huh, he almost chuckled. Almost. If it wasn’t for his conscience and remembering how your hormones had gotten the better of you on more than one occasion.

Dean straightened up and exchanged a look with Sam. Even he was saving face.

Until she said, “But I heard a hiss,” and they both turned back to her in unison. 

Alec had seen a vampire with snake-like eyes.

“It’s gotta be Vetala’s,” Sam said through his own hiss the second the door out into the parking lot had closed behind them. “The sound she heard. That guy Alec’s statement.”

They may have been out in the open air, but that didn’t mean they were alone. Sammy could have waited until they were at least three feet of the door first before rambling about the case. 

“Please,” Dean mumbled as he shot his hand into his pocket, pulling his phone out. “I could’ve lit a bunt from the scent alone.”

He clicked the side button and checked the screen, Sam slowing down his gigantic steps to walk in step with him. “So what? You think it’s nothing?”

There was nothing from you alright.

“I’m just saying, it might not be vetala’s.” But it was in their wheelhouse. As much as he hated to admit it, Molly, and those eyes of hers, teary and teed with her crisp apple and a familiar popcorn scent, compelled him to.

The way she described the sound she’d heard fit. It also wouldn’t hurt to check things out. His reason, purely selfish, hoping someone would do the same for you if he was the one missing.

“You need to slow down a little.” Dean stopped dead in his tracks, raising his free arm, case in point. They needed to find out what, if anything, she’d found looking into the town’s history, and consider there were plenty of other beasties that could’ve taken the folks of Taylorsville. “It could be a, a nest of vamps. Or a—”

“Don’t say werepire.” 

“Alright. I won’t,” Dean said. His grin widening to show all his front teeth when Sam scowled. “But the report did mention fangs and drinking blood.”

They crossed the rest of the lot and the street that lay between them and Baby, all without another word. Dean doing his best to beat Sam across the asphalt, but to no avail. The younger alpha was shutting his door and Dean was altering his lips into a pout as he dragged his slouched shoulders and arms into the car. 

He started the engine, loosened his tie and unlocked his phone this time, only to find nothing. Zero. Zilch. Unless he included you leaving him on read, and really? No cute love heart emoji or a simple thumbs up? 

He was in the doghouse alright, and all for trying to do his job—that he didn’t get paid for. He didn’t even want to take this case.

“Everything. okay?” Sam asked.

“Yeah,” Dean said, eyes still glued to the screen. “But my sack won’t be in a few days.” 

He shoved the stupid thing back into his pocket, gripping the wheel and pulling Baby out into the street. “You sure you wanna claim Eileen?” He was lucky she wasn’t his soul mate, least he knocked her up first heat, like Dean had with you. Then he’d feel his pain.

But Sam snorted. Shook his head. He had nothing to say on the subject, choosing to concentrate on his own phone. Sending a message or two to Eileen no doubt even though they were only five minutes away, if that.

Dean grinned at the flush on his cheeks, that telltale throat-clear, but it soon soured. She could send a stinking message and check in on Sam. Where were you?

The second they arrived at the motel, Dean had removed his suit and tie and stepped back out the door, leaving Sam to borrow Eileen’s comb on account of the hair. 

Yeah. The joke only lasted so long, his face contorting as he dialed your number and waited for you to answer. 

On the fourth ring he’d leant against the brick exterior, the rendered finish clinging tight to his jacket when he’d adjusted himself through his jeans. His balls, itchy at the thought of you tearing him a new one, your tone calm when you’d answered with his name. 

“Hey.” His eyes closed as his thumb and finger let go of his crotch. Gripped his phone a little tighter in the other. “Miss me yet?” He chuckled. 

“I miss Baby more. Your son wants waffles.” 

“Oh, yeah? I suppose he wants ice cream, too?” The kind with the chocolate chips and caramel swirl you always had him buy on the way home from anywhere.

“Maybe,” you hummed. At least you weren’t tearing him a new one, but he did shuffle his feet when you asked, “How’s the case?” with a little more bite. 

“Ah,” he ran his hand through his hair. “A guy and his son were reported missing while we were in there. They haven’t come back from a camping trip.” 

His voice wavered. His breath had too when you hadn’t replied or made a sound, for that matter, so he continued. “The mate called it in while we were there. Heard a noise.” He pulled the phone away to check he hadn’t lost the connection, adding a, “Sweetheart?” when he was certain you could hear him. 

You were there all right, sitting at the library table, books spread out in front of you, your fingers rapping the pages of the one on your right. He wasn’t on his way home. Which meant another day or two that you had to share him with a bunch of strangers.

“I’m here,” you said. “I’m just—” Please ditch the case and come home to you now? 

You couldn’t say that. You couldn’t do that to the omega whose child was missing. If Dean and Sam and Eileen didn’t help, who would? It’s not like there was anyone else. Another hunter? The sheriff they’d been dealing with?

Yeah, right? That’d be the same as you taking on the case.

Your phone buzzed in your hands, jingling because Dean had hit video and was trying to connect. 

You couldn’t look at him at first, facing the screen to the ceiling as you’d sat back in your seat. Head, hitting the velvet cushioning of the library’s armchair as the heel of your hand swiped over both eyes and the tears that were trying to break free.

“What is it?” he said, but he knew. He wouldn’t have turned on the video or asked otherwise if he didn’t have some idea.

You raised your hand, shifted the weight. Dared looking at his face through the sting. Only to find his gaze averted, as yours had been when you did. “What do you want me to say?” 

“I dunno.” He sighed. “Be mad. Lay it on me, ‘cause I deserve it.”

That was just it, though. He didn’t. He never did. Never had. 

“You’re doing your job,” you said, which hurt more than the yelling he’d asked for. “Can’t help that people in Kentucky need you. You’re the best, right?” Your lips tugged into your cheek at the compliment. “I’d know. I’ve seen it firsthand.”

Of course, you hadn’t meant it like that, but it was another blow to his chest. 

He was an idiot not understanding it until then, or maybe he had, he’d just overlooked it. Wouldn’t explain the dragging of his feet, though. He could’ve called you the second he’d left the sheriff’s office. Could’ve done it in the car with Sam, but he trudged across the parking lot to continue the call out of earshot when he and Eileen stepped outside. 

“I am the best.” He huffed. Let his ego overtake the ache. “But I ain’t Dick. You know I’ll always come home? Just…not on the clock.”

And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He was leaving you there for days at a time. What if there was an emergency?

He shook his head. He’d gone down that wormhole before without success, and look where it had got him then? Whacked in the head by some skank-ass witch, which wasn’t the best thing to be doing when your eyes scrutinised his every move through the glass.

Man, he needed to think about maternity leave or whatever they called it for the other half not carrying the kid. Might not get paid, but his job sure came with some quirks nuking bugs couldn’t provide. 

“I know... It’s just the appointment, and,” you chucked to yourself. The revelation was clear on your face, though it took some prompting to get it out of you. “I’m sick of oats,” you said. “Thought about taking myself out to get waffles, but it was a bit of a squeeze.”

His alpha had snarled. Wanted him to yield control for the rest of the conversation, but that wasn’t what this was about, and Dean had to remind them both. “He wants waffles that badly, huh?” 

“And fruit,” you whispered. 

“I thought we got some last time?” 

Dean tilted his head as yours bowed down. Like that was going to help him see your face better. “S’not fresh,” is what he thought he heard, but you’d swiped your cheek again with your free hand and he was now looking at your ear. 

He waved his arm at Sam, who was trying to gain his attention from over by the car. Brought the phone up to his own ear, which wasn’t the best move on account of your crying being louder, but he could hear you. Saw the little changes in your body when he used your title. 

“Look at me,” he commanded, pulling back to meet your eyes and the tremble of your lips.

“Once we check this place out, I’m coming home with or without Sam and Eileen. Just hang in there while we look for the kid, alright? I can’t leave until I find him.”

Maybe after this he’d hang up his colt, metaphorically speaking. He’d still keep it on him as he would the one under the war room table, the one in his dresser, and the one he’d hidden in the stroller. He just wouldn’t go searching for things to use them on. 

But what the hell would he do? Actual retirement? At least hunting meant he was earning the karma points needed to continue using his credit card, and most cases were cut and dry like this one.

They had three missing, a general location thanks to Eileen and Molly, and a certainty they were dealing with Vetala’s, which he found out on the way to the campgrounds. 

“Check it out,” Eileen said to Sam from Baby’s backseat as she handed her laptop over to him. “Security footage, three towns over.”

Dean’s eyes snapped to her in the rearview, but they returned to the road quick smart when his firstborn went over a large pothole. 

He cringed for the rims he’d just replaced. Smoothed his thumb over the worn leather in apology. He needed her in top shape for when the time came. 

“What kind of footage?” he asked, refusing to avert his eyes back a second time, trying to get his head back in the game. He smelt the excitement in Eileen’s scent. Heard the frantic little taps and clicks Sam was punching into the trackpad. 

“Ah, eyes match, and there’s two of them.”

Seriously? 

You bet he chanced it, looking to Sam’s lap, only to find it to be true. Two chicks’ faces zoomed in with slits for pupils. 

“A couple of snakes step out of a liquor store, and you find ‘em?” He glanced over his shoulder then, running over another pothole, too, and yet, he managed a wide grin. “You got a third eye now?” 

It took a moment for Sam’s mind to catch up with his hands. His, “Dude,” overlapping Eileen’s boastful, “Yeah.” But that didn’t stop her palm colliding with the back of his head.

“I think she gave me a concussion,” Dean said as he rounded Baby, hand, cradling the back of his skull. His other, sending you another text, albeit slow now that they’d arrived at the campgrounds.

The reception was terrible, damn trees, and Sam may as well have said jerk when he piped up, “Serves you right.” He was getting hit in all directions today.

“She hit me,” he said, letting his tone convey a little too much. 

“And I’d do it again.” Eileen nudged him. 

It’s like they’d been hunting together for years. He just needed something to match his usual bitch. Something feminine. Something that’d get her off his case when she looked over his shoulder at the words he’d typed, waiting to load.

“I love you, too,” she said, and Dean shoved his phone away. A smirk pursing his lips. 

“Am I not allowed to say that to my mate?” He opened the trunk and reached for his duffle, packing everything he could think of.

Silver knives, bullets. “Deadman’s blood?” Sam gave him a quizzical look when he tucked the syringe into his jacket pocket. Was everybody scrutinising him today? 

“Alec’s account said vamps.” He shrugged, pointer finger running along the blade of the machete he picked up last. “You know, you two are made for each other?” 

He shoved the blade in his bag, tugged the zip one too many times, and dammit, he really was growing soft. 

Your body wrapped in his robe filtered through his head. Your thighs wrapped around his. Finding out he was gonna be a dad had been a treat.

“Have you thought about pups?” He looked over his shoulder.

“Pups?” Sam’s eyes blinked like he was trying to take flight with them. Hadn’t even bothered to interpret for Eileen that time. Lucky it was a singular word, and his scent had spiked enough for her to understand the secondhand embarrassment. 

Dean even tried his own sign, winking, pointing and moving his arms through the air in the general shape of your bump. “You’d look good. Can’t guarantee any kid of his would be small, though.”

He patted Sam on the shoulder, flung his duffle over his and shut the trunk. His boots crunching over the dirt and grit as he left the lovebirds to deal with his wake.

The campgrounds were quiet, save for that. Very few campers about, judging by the lack of other vehicles, making Troy’s red pickup stick out like a sore thumb. 

The plates matched. Little fingerprints lingered on the matte finish. The respective remnants of its owner’s scent tickled his nose, along with traces of Molly’s crisp apple and popcorn from the unborn pup. 

But there were no signs of a struggle. Doors locked, ground, clean. Aside from dents in the mud at the side of the gravel from two sets of footprints, one large, one half the size of Dean’s, nothing was outta place. 

Back in the bunker, things would’ve been normal, too, if it weren’t for Dean’s text. 

The message he’d sent two hours ago. I love you? He never sent you messages like that, let alone said those three words on the daily. It was a rare occurrence. When you least expected them, and yes, that was also now, but it also freaked you the fuck out. 

Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Did he expect the hunt to go wrong? Had something already gone wrong and the vetala’s were messaging you on his behalf to keep you from searching for him? 

You closed the book you’d been reading. Deciding it wasn’t helping after all, you wandered down the hall to the laundry room to wait for the load to finish. That always made you happy. Well, not quite. Washing and drying clothes was rather tedious, but for your mate and your son, it made things a little easier, especially with the dryer jingling Greensleeves as you arrived.

You grabbed the empty basket and pulled the hatch open. The warm air hit your cheeks, while Dean’s old flannel threw hints of cologne and motor oil at your nose. 

You’d added it to the freshly laundered jumpsuits and pup-sized socks and vests to scent them. One of your bras, unwashed and sweat-lined, tangled in there somewhere, too, for the same purpose.

You breathed it all in. Your family. Your pack. If only you were all here, Sam and Eileen included.

You huffed at that. More of a hiss on account of the tears forming just below the surface. You had to shake your head. Concentrate on your laundry. On pulling out the little pieces of clothing. The one-piece now in your hand.

But the little elephants spouting water out of their little trunks into their little buckets were so sweet. All made ten times worse when you tucked the little arms back in the right way out. You could only fit three fingers in the openings. From neck to toe, it was no longer than your arm stretched out, if that.

Your fingers scrunched the fabric. So much for nipping the crying in the bud. Your eyes were now full to the brim and overflowing down your cheeks. 

You needed Dean. Needed to talk to him, have him hold you, breathe him in. But he was there, and you were still here, and—what if something really had happened to him this time? Worse than Baby getting totalled? Worse than getting jumped by a witch?

He wasn’t with the sheriff now. He was trekking through the fucking woods, hunting those things from the damn book.

What if he came home, and it was just his skin? Because they stole corpses according to Hindu mythology. Yeah. You’d read that lovely detail. 

Would it have Dean’s eyes, or would they be snake-like? His smile or a forked tongue? His appetite? 

You chuckled to yourself at that. You were being ridiculous, but how could you not? He’d never mentioned vetala’s before, although come to think of it, maybe you’d seen a flashback of one with all his other memories of ghosts and werewolves, and that was the problem, wasn’t it? The unknown.

Dean (and Sam and Eileen) chasing after some creature you’d vaguely heard of.

In Taylorsville, Dean hadn’t heard jack.

The whole place was quiet. The kind where you could drop a pin or, in his case, cock the hammer of his colt and disturb nothing. 

That click was music to his ears, grounding to have its solid mass in his fingers. 

Yeah, he wasn’t hanging this baby up. It’d been with him through thick and thin and he would carry it into fatherhood. God forbid he was wrong and his son presented as an omega. There was nothing wrong with that, it just meant more dicks like Dick to keep away from his family.

He nodded at Sam, then Eileen behind him, twisting the tarnished handle that had to lead to the basement.

He’d say it hadn’t felt a human’s touch for years, except it had. If the three individual scents carrying up from the darkness hadn’t done the touching, their targets sure had. But where the hell were they?

All he scented were two alpha males and one child. Four, five maybe? No older than Ben had been when he first met him, smelling like strawberries and grass, which, great, all accounted for, but Dean still frowned. The place was still too quiet, and hints of them being too late laced the air. 

“Who’s there?” a croaky voice called out from the depths and three clicks, followed by three streams of light from three flashlights, moved in its direction.

The sheriff’s son-in-law was a shell of the man in the photo he and Sam had seen at the station that morning. His face and neck, bloody; fatigued eyes, wide in alarm. His skin, pale, shaking, on edge, and the poor bastard had every right to be. Because if Troy was frail and beaten, his son, Jonah, wasn’t faring so well. Neither was Gavin.

The young pup sat between both men, his shoulders slouched. Were his hands not tied behind the chair, he’d have toppled over from the weight of his head.

“Get the lights,” Dean said and lowered his gun, racing down the stairs with little thought of the consequences. Lucky Sam got to them before he ran into the pile of crumbled bricks at the bottom.

“Hey.” He stooped down before them, slugging the weight of his bag off his shoulder; pushing through the stench of death to scan their bodies for more injuries than the obvious puncture marks. But the father-to-be died a little on the inside when his fingers slipped up to feel for a pulse on the young pup, only to find nothing there. 

Jonah was ice cold, and so were his eyes.

He got the steel grey from his mother and grandfather. Skin tone, forehead, nose, but his hair was like his fathers. Neck, matching his fathers, too, with bruised skin and dried blood that had once trickled down. 

“My boy,” Troy mumbled, eyes looking straight at him in questioning.  

Why did he have to be the one to break the news?

Dean’s voice was almost as quiet as Troy’s had been when he said. “I’m sorry,” before taking the opportunity of Eileen, kneeling beside him to look away. It didn’t block out the father’s cry, though.

Troy wailed like he was fighting to breathe. His sob, drawn out, sounding more like an animal than that of an adult male. Not that anyone in that room could blame him. 

Dean had seen his son’s heartbeat on the monitor at Dr Cameron’s office at every appointment. He’d recorded it on his phone once and had shown it to Sam and Eileen on more than one occasion.  

His son was healthy, tiny, kept safe from the world in your womb. In the bunker. He was yet to walk or…or talk, and Dean loved him more than life itself. Yet here was Troy, and Jonah was right there, having done all those things. 

He couldn’t say or do anymore than he already had, which was only made worse by Sam clearing his throat. 

“Dean?” Sam’s top half leant in through the passenger side door, just as he’d done the night before at the bar. Only now the lights flickering were fluorescent under the cover of the tin roof. The noise from trucks passing by replacing the country drawl of a jukebox. The occasional car doors slamming shut and engines turning on and off. “You coming?” he asked. 

“Yeah.” Dean forced a grin, loosening his grip from the wheel and the keys, still in the ignition. Of course, he’d insisted on driving. 

He flexed his fingers and knuckles. Only for the twang to reach all the way up his arm, further inflaming the bad joint of a busted shoulder. But seven hours later, he was still here, right? Nothing to complain about. His son was still in your womb, safe, presumably happy. Dean knew he would be. Plus, he had the whole world ahead of him. A mom and dad. Aunt and uncle.

Eileen was already at the automatic doors when he slinked out of the car, Sam now halfway across the lot to join her, thank god. He hadn’t let up on the sideways glances since the cabin. Not that he’d said anything, but there were still eight more hours ahead of this before they got back to the bunker. If he could push through as planned.  

He dragged his feet across the lot so he could fuel himself up. Hit the head. Message you, or call if you were still awake. 

The automatic doors opened in front of him, and he stepped into the air-conditioned chill. Bright lights, impeding on his vision, not that he needed the wake up call. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Jonah’s or heard Troy’s sobs. 

How cliche. 

“You got the gas?” he said to Sam as he passed him by the counter. He didn’t stick around to hear the answer, bee-lining it to the restrooms, feeling the weight of Sam’s stare on his back once again.

He was quick to shut the door behind him. Quicker to grip the sink and lean over the porcelain, letting out a sigh before splashing cool water on his face. If he were home, he’d take advantage of the pressure and seep under the shower until the heat ran out. Snuggle into your nest after and just lie there with you all day long. 

By the time he’d moved to the urinal, he had his phone tucked between ear and good shoulder, waiting for the dial tone like any other call. Didn’t bother him he was mid-stream when you answered, the gravel in your voice and the rustling of what sounded like sheets did. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Did I wake ya?” He tried his best to be casual, but even he could hear his breath in the microphone. Weighted like his heart and blood, thrumming away through the swollen tissue, thinning out when he heard your sweet hum.

“Yeah,” you said, “Where are you?”

“Just outta St. Louis. Stopped for gas.”

“And dinner?” 

It was a little late for that, but, “Yeah,” he lied, “Sam’s grabbing us something.” 

He leaned forward to push the last of the stream out, short bursts giving it away. Not that you should’ve minded with all the interesting things he’d learned about your body these past few months. “Just wanted to catch you before you fell asleep,” he said.

His brow creased as he shook. Tucked himself away and redid the buckle and fly, “Won’t be stopping till we have to fill ‘er up again.” 

“But that’s—” He pulled the lever and flushed. Boots, traipsing across the tiles and patches of wet, slapped in time with the sharp clicks filtering into his ear as your fingers slapped the keyboard. 

He gave you a second, turning on the faucet before he butt in. “Seven hours?”

“Google says eight.” 

“Give or take.” He got the worry, he did, but it was hard to sympathise with his own plight given the circumstances. Had to remind himself you don’t know the details, because you didn’t, he’d purposely not told you. So, “I’ve done this a thousand times,” he said, choosing to placate. He couldn’t deny his cheeks warmed at the thought of you doing so.

“But you need to sleep.”

“And you need me home.” 

He smoothed his hands over his jacket, finally wrapping one around his phone as he let the door swing shut behind him. “Unless you changed your mind or something,” 

“Of course not,” you rushed.

“Then I’ll see you in the morning. We can go out for waffles,” he said, but his grin faltered. Just hoped his shoulder would hold up without you figuring out he’d dislocated it.

It was still tender as hell. The painkillers he’d taken before leaving Taylorsville had helped with the ache until they hadn’t. Each slight turn as he drove down the deserted highway, bit at the joint. 

It had gotten so bad that his exterior no longer fooled Sam. By the time they got to St Joseph, on the state line, he’d had to relent the wheel over to him in St. Joseph, which, great, meant an even longer drive, but it also meant he’d left himself to his own thoughts. 

What little sleep he got was filled with Jonah and his father’s cries or, even more creative, were the visions of his son and you mourning him. 

As morbid as it sounded, he was perfect. His life, perfect. In his dream he had your eyes and hair colour. His height too when his head played with reality and make the kid shoot up taller than you. He went to college, had a girlfriend, a sister, who looked just like you. and though Dean didn’t know their names or their age gap, none of it mattered. He just knew he wanted it all. 

By the time the Impala had slowed and turned up the incline leading to the bunker, the sun was rising beyond the trees of the next. 

“Well, night,” Sam said, hand on Eileen’s back as he walked her down the hall towards his room, the omega turning back to wave at him. But rather than follow them to yours, Dean slunk to the kitchen first, noting the books and half drunk tea sitting on the table. 

He checked the fridge and pulled out a beer, opened it and scanned the rest of the inside.

Milk, eggs, bacon. There were probably more things you needed than those core ingredients. You’d want yogurt, no doubt, and he slapped them all on his mental list as he sauntered to the pantry. 

You were sick of oats. Check. Some more cereal wouldn’t go astray. Candy, potato chips, you would say no to, but no doubt sneak when you thought he wasn’t looking. “Extra chocolate,” he muttered. 

He’d leave you in charge of the fruit and vegetables, but everything else was on him. No thinking—nope, sounded wrong, but you weren’t lifting a finger, physical or otherwise. 

He’d take you out for waffles when you were ready, take you shopping if you were up to it. Try to call Cameron’s office and if they were open, see if he could still see you come Tuesday. 

He had a lot of making up to do. Had so many things he wanted to say to you, so why was he still hanging ‘round in here?

‘She’s sleeping,’ his alpha said. ‘Needs her rest.’

But he needed you, too. 

He shifted the grip on the bottle, fingers clasping the neck as he stepped out into the hall again with quick strides to your room. He’d grab some clothes, take a long shower, then be back in time for you to wake up. 

As stealthy as he’d been at the cabin, he opened the door, shutting it just as, careful not to let the hall light in for too long. 

The outline of your nest and more solid body, moving under the blankets, crystal clear in the darkness. Soft snores filtered through the air.

He moved to the dresser on the side, pulled out a fresh pair of boxers and a shirt and was just about to creep out again, when you whispered his name.

“Where are you going?” you said next, your voice filled with more gravel than it had before. 

“Shower.” 

But you sat up, went as far as shuffling over to the edge of the bed and flinging your legs over before he could come round and sort you out. “Woah, woah, woah.” He chuckled. His huffs raspy from the early hours. “You don’t need to get up.” Though you stood anyway. 

Well, you tried. 

You were pushing yourself up one second, only to give up and hold out your hands like a pup the next.  

Dean tilted his head in resignation. Grabbed hold and lifted against the pull of his bad shoulder. 

One wince and you were shoving at his jacket over wrapping your arms around him or whatever else you’d had in mind, but Dean grabbed you. Hooked them ‘round his waist as best you could give given your bump. Smiled into your hair then, breathing you both in and squeezing tight.

“Welcome home.” You leant back and pecked him on the cheek.

His, “Thanks, sweetheart,” whispered against your lips. 

He tasted you. Nipped at the delicate skin. Soon had your mouth open just enough for him to slip his tongue inside and appreciate you more. Remnants of tea, with a touch of sweetness, balancing the bitter, while your apple surrounded him. Chocolate and citrus tickling his nose. Little man even kicked a hello against his stomach. 

“Hey,” he drew out. “Hope you’re giving your mom some rest.” 

“Please. He’s yours.” 

“Yeah, he is.” His fingers slipped under your shirt to tease the smooth skin he found. Felt the warmth, reveled in the simple touch, grounding himself, appreciating being home. “Mine,” he rumbled. 

“Yours,” you said again.

It hadn’t even been a week, short by half a day, if he wanted to be technical. But it felt like a lifetime. Like you’d been standing here, still as a statue, waiting for him to bring his sorry ass home for this moment alone. 

He’d die happy now, or relive this on loop. Then nothing would ever harm either of you, because you’d be always there in that spot.. 

You were his world, and the pup, his boy. He was exactly where he needed to be to stay safe. 

That’s when Jonah’s face blessed his mind again. Those steel-blue eyes, cold and absent. His were stinging real quick, taking thought and pain away from his shoulder as he tried to compose himself.

Of course, you felt the change in his scent before he let the first tear fall. Your hands pulled tighter to his back, mouth pulled back too to look up at him to where he least wanted it once more.

You said his title first. Moved on to questioning him with his name. “What’s wrong?” Your brow creased with confusion, almost hurt, and shit, no, he needed to fix that before the worry set in.

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

“No it’s not.” Your thumb came up and swiped at his cheek. Hand cupping his face, until he layered his own on top, pushing his thick fingers through the gaps, and gripping tight.

He squeezed and dropped it. Kissed and soothed to make amends. “Let me just take a shower and I’ll come back and join you.” He nodded, but your head was shaking.

“You go to that bathroom and I’m coming with you.”

“Five minutes. Don’t wanna mess up the nest.” But you tugged on his arm and dragged him with you, and what choice did he have? 

Wasn’t about to play tug-o-war with his pregnant mate. He didn’t even bother to play the hesitation game, kicking off boots, jacket and jeans, shuffling closer to you. He needed you just as much as you needed him right now, and he was gonna take it.

Without words, you opened your arms up to him as he often did with you once you’d settled yourself. Patted the blanket you’d layered over the sheets. 

Did you want him to—?

It took him a moment, considering his bad shoulder and your belly, but he laid down on his back in the end. Remembered you found it more comfortable using him as a pillow these days, and he was okay with that.. 

“Thanks,” he said for the second time, drawing you in as his body relaxed its load.

He settled his head into the pillow. Felt the press of buttons from a flannel on his scalp, right where the bump was, but ignored it. The spike of disappointment in your scent had him twisting in search of your face instead. 

“Hey. What’s wrong?” His tone, similar to the coo Sheriff Aldrin had used on Molly.

“You don’t want me to be the big spoon?” 

His whole torso shook with his snicker, hand coming over to rest where he’d felt the last kick, stretching the muscle, but smoothing your skin and insecurities before they grew. “When he’s born, I’ll let you do it whenever you want.” He dipped his chin lower, voice too, lips searching for any contact with your skin. “But this way, I get both of you.” 

Your mouth moved to meet his on that. The trail of kisses infuriating when you were right there. 

Beer still on his tongue, the road, oil, Baby’s vinyl in his scent, along with something he was avoiding, had been since he’d called you in St. Louis, but you didn’t ask. 

You wanted to. Be the anchor he needed. Let him vent all his frustrations from the last day, the whole week really. There had to be plenty of things bothering him and you being difficult with all your little whims and anxieties wouldn’t have made it easy to voice them. He’d been your rock from hundreds of miles away, and now he was home? You weren’t letting go. 

Yeah, it was selfish, but when he twisted more, brought his body to his side, draping his leg over yours, wrapping his chest around your tummy, you just melted. His touch. His warmth. You’d missed him so much, hence all the craziness, the attitude, god the attitude, though he never complained.

You smiled into the kiss. Dared shifting your thigh when you felt him twitch against it, and Dean groaned, chest rumbling straight to your core. 

His lips pulled back with a wet clip, hand jumping from your stomach to cheek to caress it. “You tired?” he said, but you shook your head. 

“I should be asking you that.” 

“‘M fine.” He swooped in again, lifting the leg over you only to raise it higher at your hip. The tip of his knot tickled your skin through the thin fabric of his boxers, and, “Missed you,” he said.

Your heart raced at those words. “I missed you, too,” you breathed into him, fingers and palms squeezing where they rested until he nudged you to your back and your whole being clung to him. 

But it was awkward. Your head, suddenly light and aching. You closed your eyes, but that only made things worse, head spinning like you were falling off the edge of the earth, and nope. Nope, nope. You couldn’t do this. 

You pushed yourself up, forcing Dean to retreat to his knees. What a way to ruin the moment. Your, “Sorry,” coming the second you felt his hand brushing away the hair that had fallen over your face. 

“Hey.” The bed croaked beneath him. Probably had when you’d sat up as fast as you had, too, but your mind had been stopping yourself from puking. Your throat was certainly disapproving of the sudden movement, and, “No,” his alpha came through. 

He flicked on the bedside lamp, and came back, pulling you into his lap sideways, shoulder be damned. You’d freaked him out, you still were, and he damn well wasn’t going to sit by and hear you apologise. 

“You okay?” he asked. His arm doing its best to smooth down your thigh, shoulder joint aching from his lean across the bed.

“Yeah. Just dizzy.” 

“On your back?” No wait. This sounded familiar. Some complaint from Lisa’s sister Jenny. 

You nodded, head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, exactly where you belonged. Your hair tickling his mating gland. The soul mark beneath his clothes tingling with it. 

Part of him wanted to continue. Taste you like he’d been gunning for. If he was pleasuring you, he wasn’t talking about his feelings. If he knotted you, you’d be content to lie with him while he continued to hold you. 

The other half didn’t want you doing anything physical, continuing that not lifting a finger notion he’d decided on in the kitchen. He was definitely trying Doctor Cameron’s office as soon as office hours sprung on him for his own peace of mind. 

He glanced down at his watch and checked. Not quite six.

“How is it now?” He cringed the second the words left his mouth. “You feeling better?” he said against your temple, which, worse, though little Dean was down, at least, having not roused that far. 

Your scent still spiked, warm in interest, though. “Better,” you whispered. “Can I…can we try something else?”

And Dean smirked at that, chest rumbling with his own content. “C’mere.”

It was awkward as hell, but he fell backward, body off centre, and somehow with a little patience, he lifted you enough with his bung shoulder, turning you and setting his feet at the pillow end of the bed. Lucky he’d ditched the boots.

Unlucky, you caught the frown. 

“You’re hurt.” 

“I’m good.” He pulled you into him, mouth making another move as you came down, hoping to douse the newest upset he sensed bubbling to the surface. 

His arm slung his hand up and over to hold your neck in place, brushing through your hair, gripping where he could. Fingers on your cheek brushing away any chance of tears 

But you pushed back. “Where?” you said, staring him in the eyes as you began pressing your fingers into his chest first. 

“Right shoulder.” He sighed, his own grip dropping to your knees on either side of him. You were peeling his flannel, him lifting enough for you to remove it as he gave in and further explained. “Took a fall in the fight.” 

Cat was outta the bag now.

“You got them?” Your body perked up, but you were apologising in the next breath when he hissed. 

Your finger had gotten right into the muscle and it burned hot, worse than it had when Sammy had popped it back in.

“You drove like this?” you said.

“Not all the way.” He stilled your hand, gripping tight and moving it over his heart. “I’m fine ‘mega.”

“What happened?” You weaseled out of his grip, about to hop off his lap, too, before his fingers dove into the edge of your waist. 

The flesh was more supple there now, more soft and perfect if used as a handle. He’d use that anger and make you submit had he not been cautious already.

“We found the missing and ganked the snakes,” he said flatly, but even that was the wrong choice. 

“Dean—”

“Dont.” He swallowed. Loosened his hold and tapped your soft skin. “Don’t, sweetheart. The kid died. He was gone by the time we found ‘em, and I…I wasn’t thinking straight.” 

Silence fell between you, both looking away, much like you’d done on the video call. You biting your lip in thought, he presumed, and him, concentrating on your scent. 

The apple, the pup’s bitter chocolate, was nothing like the Aldrin’s. You were you, and Molly, Troy, Jonah, they were them, a world away in Kentucky. 

“I put myself in the guy’s shoes on the way here,” he admitted. “I’ve seen it all before, but this one guy, he—”

“You put yourself in his shoes?”

“Yeah.” His cheeks puffed out when he pursed his lips. He’d swipe at his eyes, but you were already doing that for him, holding both sides of his face and placing a tender kiss. “I know I wasn’t there, but I also know you did all you could. Came home.”

You paused longer, receded back, making sure he was looking you in the eyes. “Your son needs his dad.” 

And he didn’t need you to tell him that. He knew it. He also knew what he needed to do. The idea of hanging ‘round the bunker more, at least until the pup was born, springing back to mind. 

He’d enjoy you both, keep you company. Take you out for waffles or whatever else. In between all that, he’d build up the courage to deal with another case, because that’s all this was. The hardship of losing a victim, one whose family’s shoes he stepped into, nothing more.

He raised his head, captured your mouth and brought you back down to him. Every frustration, every thought and care fueling his movements, his desire, his rush just charged by need.

“Would you be okay if I stuck around here a little more?” He dropped his hands back to your exposed thighs, smoothed your skin. Nipped and sucked in between.

“Of course,” you said, and as if his heart was waiting for your approval, it raced and brought a new warmth to his chest. “We’d like that very much.”

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Well, this one has been a long time coming (for me)! I almost put Dean through a little whump in this one (punctured lung and concussion), but changed my mind and stuck with the original direction. We don’t need no drama before the pup, just nice, happy families ‘cause this is somewhat of a fix-it after all.

I have no preview this week, I just wanted to keep the format so you get the pretty little next time without the snippet... But next up, loads of fluff is planned with nursery building and preparations, maybe waffles? Give the damn omega her waffles!

I'm hoping to have it out on June 27th

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