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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I do,” Sam responds.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is he?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No!” he growls. “Mine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cry.

DEAN’S POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Y/N’S POV

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END

The screen doors creaking made Jensen look up from the sheet music he was working on and saw his fiancée couldn't help but smile. Six months ago, he was so deep in divorce drama that it was providence meeting this nerd-hot astronomy professor who lives in the boonies.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he said, sitting his guitar on the couch, expecting her to reciprocate, but she just walked through the kitchen door. Okay, that’s not good, Jensen thought. Crossing the main room, he found Y/N’s messenger bag lying on the floor, her jacket carelessly tossed on top, and shoes kicked in opposite directions.

Jensen heard a cabinet door slam shut in the shoebox-sized kitchen as he gathered the items and placed them in their usual spots before entering the kitchen to find Y/N leaning against the old butcher block countertop with a finger crooked in a bottle of Fireball Whiskey's handle, chugging it like an old moonshiner made him remark, “Guess you've had a day.”

Pulling off she bitterly responds: “It’s been crapdamntastic. And how was yours, dear?” This shocks her fiancé. Y/N never called him that, once saying the endearment had a negative connotation from her childhood when she suddenly stomped off. When the hundred-year-old farmhouse’s pipes rattle, it snaps Jensen out of it, and, like the last time Y/N had guzzled that much alcohol too fast, he sees the trail of clothes left in her wake.

Now concerned, he gathered the articles and deposited them in the bath hamper. “Gonna tell me what set you off this time?”

A very unladylike snort came from behind the shower's glass door, “Check your phone.” He retrieved it from the charger in the bedroom and plopped on the large bed, thumbing through multiple missed text stops at the one from his manager marked urgent opens the included link. “Wha…Motherfucker!”

In an exclusive interview, OTH star Danneel Ackles reveals the real reason her ex-husband, Supernatural's Jensen Ackles, deserted his family.

A bath sheet-wrapped Y/N sat down cross-legged, facing Jensen as he continually tugged a hand through his long hair while reading the article full of falsehoods. Jensen suddenly dropped his phone and reached for the bottle copied her earlier chugging, “You know those paparazzi that've been harassing since Inks Lake?”

Jensen acknowledges, remembering the night a few weeks ago when Y/N’s astronomy class took a field trip, secretly arranging to take her camping instead (something he wouldn’t normally do on a dare) and proposed during the celestial event.

“Well, today, they got into the auditorium during my lecture and began shouting those derogatory accusations from that piece when several of my students took it upon themselves to intervene. Long story short, I’m on unpaid leave until the school finishes its inquiry.” His following words this is my fault made Y/N snap. “Oh, the hell you say! You’re absofuckinglutley not at fault here! Danneel acting like a snake in the grass!”

“Danneels pissed because,” but Jensen didn’t finish, instead guzzling on the last of the bottle.

“Because beg-a-bitch badly miscalculated you’d come crawling back and trying to save face! Peaches, I knew being together would have bumps, but this?” She points to his phone, “Face facts, Jensen. Your ex is a Regina George who’s gone too damn far covering her swamp ass!” Jensen sputtered on the cinnamon whiskey burning down the wrong pipe, “Swamp ass?”

“Urban Dictionary, page two, definition four.”

Jensen began to speak, but Y/N placed her fingers against his plump lips. “You’ve always been inclined to let a lotta crap slide to keep the peace because she’s the mother of your children. But Jensen, it’s time to redraw the boundaries of what is acceptable and what’s not ‘cause I don’t want your kids to grow up with resentments like I have towards mine.”

“Ohhh my god! Keep giving it to me just like this Peaches!” 

Y/N, sucking on her fingers, moaned in ecstasy, then pulled them out with an obscene pop before reaching for another slab of the ribs Jensen fixed in the outdoor smoker. “Good thing we’re not in public; otherwise, you’d get an obscenity charge.”

“It was one time, and I got off with a warning.” She cheekily remarks, “Besides, my meat man deserves props.” Jensen’s fair skin flushed; his tell when embarrassed but also when aroused makes Y/N grin and tease him by sucking the bones clean.

“Y/N, I wanted to talk about something, and don’t take this the wrong way.” Jensen takes a long swig of his beer before tackling the tricky subject. “Since we’re staying with my family for dad’s birthday, could you tone it down? Your personality can be a bit much.” Y/N got that expression, which he still wasn’t sure how to interpret.

“Calling me extra, that’s rich, considering your profession is full of fake people.” Jensen suppressed his automatic response. “Y/N, it’s just my parents; they’re very conservative.” She dropped her uneaten ribs and sat back.

“I might’ve grown up po-dunk,” her tone signals he’s close to stepping over the line. “But I know how to act around those types; otherwise, I wouldn’t have my position at UT Austin, let alone be headhunted by SpaceX for their new facility coming to Texas!” The flash of surprise crossing Jensen’s face didn’t slow Y/N down. “Would working for Elon Musk be acceptable to the high-fluttering Ackles clan? Or do they consider his personality a bit much?”

Hitting his limit, Jensen’s near-perfect features morphing into I’m done with your shit expression irked her more.

“You know what? We’re a couple of liquorlip loaded guns and better table this conversation till capable of being civil. Thank you for dinner, it was delicious.” Y/N gets up and grabs the rest of the six-pack. “I’m gonna polish these off in the guest house.”

“This is your house.”

“I know.“ Y/N says, twirling her engagement ring around her finger. “Kinda hoping sleeping alone in my bed will clarify whether you had a holy fuck, I’m over forty and single again moment and jumped the gun proposing or really ready for this life with me.” She laid the ring on the table before Jensen, and staggering slightly down the porch steps, disappeared into the moonless night.

Jensen was sitting on the kitchen banquette, watching the ancient oak leaves dance on the breeze through the window, when Y/N padded in barefoot, clad in one of his T-shirts, damp hair hanging loosely down her back, and no makeup.

God, he loved how she rocked the all-natural look, so different from Danneel, who always had to be camera-ready, watches Y/N sleepily fumble around, realizing the kettle was already heated, she added the tea diffuser, steeping it before pouring it into an oversized mug.

She shuffles and plops across from him, leaning on an elbow, waiting for Jensen to speak. “It wasn’t a knee-jerk reaction. You are the person I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

“Why?”

That one-word question hung in the air because Jensen knew what Y/N wanted.

It wasn’t the usual platitudes of I love you or can’t live without you. She wanted him to be open, raw, vulnerable, something he always had trouble with, exposing his innermost self.

“Figured after a decade in the industry, I had a grasp of how to tell fake people from real ones. I believed I knew Danneel because we’d been friends. Then she kissed me in Ten Inch Hero and we,” Y/N quirked an eyebrow as he ran a hand through his long hair, “I knew her boyfriend but did all my thinking with the wrong head. It wasn’t my finest moment.”

Jensen picked up the mug he’d already drunk and refilled it. “Looking back, I realized there were signs; our normal banter changed at some point. It was stupidly easier to ignore our issues in Vancouver or at cons.” Y/N remains quiet, so Jensen wouldn’t stop opening the hurt box and acknowledging the truth.

“I let Danneel manipulate me, thinking she supported my career by encouraging me to take on more roles. After getting pregnant with JJ, said she wanted to move back to Texas to be closer to family. Then pushing for more kids, ignoring what I wanted, to secure her position. And the other duplicity’s to get financial support for whatever project interested her.”

Jensen didn’t notice Y/N sliding across the seat beside him as he buried his face in his hands, “I've been her lifelong meal ticket. How could I have been so fucking stupid?!”

“Jensen, you aren’t stupid, you were in love. And some marriages work better with a bit of separation. What’s making me hella pissed is Grade A Cunt going around acting like butter wouldn’t melt and blaming you for her cheating!”

Y/N softens her approach, “Those weeks you didn’t call, figured you lost my number cause you’re another Hollyweird dickwad who didn’t wanna get caught with Ms. one-foot outta the trailer park.” Jensen shook his head, “I wouldn’t have taken you bar hopping to the ones I frequent if being seen together was the real problem. Why didn’t I call,” he shook his head again. “I didn’t know how to respond to you crashing through my insecurities like a…”

“Two by four in a tornado?”

“Pretty accurate and disturbing description.”

“Peaches, wanna know what I see when I look at you?” Jensen turned toward her, eyes loaded with apprehension. “A guy who feels too much, so he hides behind this reserved veneer and Da Vinci perfect face, kinda like his alter ego.”

Jensen pushes the mug over and takes her hand, placing the ring back on her finger. “I don’t know how to be without you anymore, so do me a favor. Don’t take this off again, okay?”

“Okay,” she reaches up, cupping his bearded cheek, "Peaches, I’ll always take care of you as long as you need me. So, we done with this emotional colonic?” Jensen laughs and kisses her. “That’s my girl.” He then licked his lips, “How about heading back to bed? We have a few hours before picking up the kids.” Y/N got up taken both mugs to the sink.

“I guess, since my propensity to get laid is about to greatly diminish staying with your parents, the con, then you heading off to finish up The Winchesters afterwards.”

“You have the weirdest technique for enticing a guy, sweetheart.” Jensen’s T-shirt smacks him in the face, and he's about to give her what for is gobsmacked at a completely naked Y/N standing in the doorway striking a seductive pose.

“This technique work for you, Peaches?”

Jensen glances in the SUV's rearview mirror to see which of his kids are acting up. But Clif, without looking, knows what’s happening and loudly asked, “Do the adult children need a timeout?” The noise abruptly stops as Jared and Y/N point at each other and simultaneously say, “He/She started it!”

****

The trip ended up taking a lot longer due to road work slowing traffic on the way to dropping Jared and Clif off at the hotel, and Jensen was relieved to pull into his parents' driveway. Getting out, twisted his torso to loosen up tense back muscles froze when the squeals of mommy rang out, and heard Danneel say she was also staying for the weekend.

Y/N grabs Zeps's backpack before stomping to the vehicle's rear, and when Jensen rounds the SUV, he is greeted with obscenities that would make a sailor blush and luggage hitting concrete. “Sweetheart, I have no idea why Danneel is here...”

“Because I invited her,” Donna Ackles says from not three feet away, and Jensen becomes frosty.

“Mom, we discussed this. You knew I was introducing Y/N to the family this weekend.” Donna comes back with, “Just because you abandoned your marital oath doesn’t change the fact that Danneel's family. And I had assumed your friend would be staying at that hotel, too.”

“Well, you know what they say about assumptions, Mrs. Ackles.” Donna’s eyes widened at Y/N's flippant remark, “You are a very impudent!”

“No, ma’am, inviting your son's lying whore ex to stay in the same house without his knowledge, that’s impudent," Y/N retorts. “I’d bet the farm your intentions are to demonstrate to everyone how dime in a dollar store I seem next to Danneel, hoping Jensen will be embarrassed enough to send me packing. Hate to disappoint you, but I don’t intimidate easily. So,” She stepped into Donna personal space and, with hands on hips says…“Bring it on, Grandma.”

SPNTAGS:  @donnaintx  @lyarr24  @flamencodiva @lassie-bird  @nancymcl  @spnbaby-67 @leigh70 @b3autyfuld1sast3r

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid

You never gave much about tradition and getting married or mated before turning thirty. Some omegas even freak out if they don’t find a mate before they turn twenty. You never were this kind of omega.

But now that you sit at the table, cheering for a cousin you haven’t seen in years, tears roll down your cheeks.

“Aw, you are moved to tears from the speech,” your aunt coos. She smiles and pats your hands. Your aunt is proud of her daughter, and you don’t have the heart to tell her that your tears have nothing to do with your cousin’s wedding.

“It’s a,” you choke on your tears, “very moving speech. I’m sorry.” You lie and give her a cracked smile. “She must be very happy.”

“My dear, I’m sure you’ll find your mate,” she says. You know that your aunt means well, but she just added another stab to your vulnerable heart. “The right young man is waiting just around the corner.”

You’d like to roll your eyes at her words. Your mate doesn’t wait around the corner. And you won’t meet him at any moment. “Sure,” you say, and force a smile on your face.

“Where are you going?” She asks when you get up from your chair. The speeches are over, and people are busy stuffing food into their mouths.

“I need to use the toilet,” you whisper. “I’ll be right back.” Another lie easily rolls off your tongue.

The truth is that your stomach churns, and you’d like to throw up watching your ex-boyfriend nip at your friend’s neck. If you don’t leave the room now, you’ll do something you regret.

It’s worse enough that you cried. You won’t give them the satisfaction and watch you lose control. Even though you’d like to scratch her eyes out.

You try not to run out of the room but walk fast enough to struggle not to slip on the floor. Goddamn high heels. Why did you have to choose the most uncomfortable shoes you own to wear today out of all days?

“Fuck,” you almost made it out of the room when you slip and end up face first in someone’s chest. “Great. My fucking luck!”

“Watch out, doll,” he easily helps you steady your wobbling legs. He gives you a warm smile and chuckles as you stare at him with wide eyes. “You good? Did you hurt your ankle?” His eyes drop to your feet, and he shakes his head at your choice of shoes. “These shoes are no good. You could easily break your neck.”

“You are telling me,” you huff. “I had to wear them because of the wedding but-“ you lean closer to whisper in his ear, “I’m hiding a pair of sneakers in my bag.”

He smirks at your admission. “So, do you often run away from weddings to crash into people?”

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you splutter as you take your time to drink his appearance in.

The man catching your fall is very handsome. Sadly, he’s older than you, at least twenty years. His salt’n’pepper beard, the grey in his hair, and the lines around his eyes tell you so. Which means that he’s likely married or at least mated.

You sigh. This is not the right place nor the time to mourn the loss of a man you didn’t have in the first place. “It’s fine. I love getting run over by a pretty dame. How about I help you get a drink? You look thirsty. I guess I’m too hot to handle and you need water.”

Giggling at his corny pick-up line you consider him. “If you invite a lady for a drink, it should be at least a Martini.”

“Dry or extra dry?” He cocks a brow.

“I guess in your presence no woman stays dry,” you bluntly reply, making him chuckle. His cheeks turn pink, but he plays it cool. Damn him. He makes you drop your gaze to look at his hands to search for a ring.

“Cute,” he remarks. “I bet you taste even sweeter.” Oh, he’s a player. “Name’s John, doll. What’s yours?”

“Y/N,” you hold out your hand and give him your sweetest smile. If he wants to play, who are you to tell him to stop? “Nice to meet you, John.”

“Dito, sweetness,” he shakes your hand and holds it a little longer than needed. His thumb brushes over your skin, making you shudder. “Now, let’s get you a drink. We want you to stay hydrated.”

“What are you doing?” He watches you take the olive picks out of your drink to place them on a napkin. “Don’t waste them.”

Your eyes widen when he takes the olive pick to drop the olives in his mouth. “You like olives?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles and flashes you an irresistible smile. “You hate them, I assume.”

“Yes and…I mean…” You lick your lips as John takes a sip of his drink. “Did you ever hear of the olive theory John?”

“No.” He cocks a brow at your question. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”

“It’s…forget it.” You shake your head. “It’s nonsense.”

“It was important enough for you to mention it, Y/N. Come on, tell me about it. I don’t want to get my glasses out to search for it on my phone.”

“Okay,” you lick your lips. “If you laugh about me, I’ll go.”

“I promise not to laugh, doll.”

“There was this show. It’s called…” You clear your throat. “That doesn’t matter. There was this cute couple. One of them hated olives, but the other one loved them. One of their friends developed the theory that this fact makes them a great couple. A perfect balance, you know.”

John nods thoughtfully. He looks at the abandoned olive pick, considering your words. “I’m much older than you, doll. Do you know what you get yourself into when you tell me things like that?”

“No, but enlighten me,” you take the glass out of his hand to take a sip. “It’s only a theory from a TV show.”

“Hmmm…maybe we should test the theory,” he takes the drink out of your hand to down it. “How about we get out of here? We could go for a walk.”

“Maybe after you got me another drink,” you lean closer to run your hand over his hand. “I’m not a girl for one night.”

“Of fucking course not,” he grins. “You’re a keeper…”

A few of your favourite postcards from Dean - from the six years you were apart. 

___________________________________

Hey Y/N, 

What do you write on a postcard? 

Dean

P.S. I picked up a stack of these at a rest stop on the way to Sioux Falls and I thought you'd like some old school snail-mail. I'm aware that your parents and the mailman will probably read this too, so... I'm sorry I got your daughter into trouble and now she has- what, ten hours of community service left? But, she's kind of a badass and saved my life so don't go too hard on her. 

P.P.S. And to the mailman: Not cool, dude. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

Sam told me to start these with 'Dear' instead of 'Hey', I kind of like the way it sounds so I let him be right for once. Bobby and Jody are pretty cool, they won't even let me pay rent so we can save more money. We'll have a place of our own in no time now. 

xo Dean 

P.S. I hope the 'x' is okay, if not I blame Sam. If so, it was all my idea. You can't tell but I just winked at you. 

P.P.S. It's my birthday and Jody made me a cherry pie! It was so good, I had every intention of saving you a piece but now I'll just have to learn how to make one for you instead. Can't wait for your phone call tonight so I can tell you all about it. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

It took a little longer than I thought but we just moved into our own apartment! It's closer to Sam's college but we can still visit Bobby and Jody with a short car ride. 

xo Dean 

P.S. Think you'll come visit me on your gap year? 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

It snowed today! And I'm making pasta tonight. You can drool over it via video chat later. I wish we were in the same time zone so you could ring in the new year with me too. 

I’m missing you a lot lately,  xo Dean 

P.S. I'm sending you a big fat kiss. You can put it where you want it. X 

P.P.S. To the mailman: Get your mind out of the gutter. She's a lady! 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I'm seriously craving Donna's mocha ice cream right now. I think it would go great with Jody’s cherry pie recipe. Don't knock it till you try it! 

xo Dean

P.S. Sam hasn't stopped playing that playlist you made him for studying. I swear you have the worst taste in music. I'm going to make you a playlist tonight. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I think I like the mountains on this postcard best, we should take a roadtrip there together, maybe next Valentine’s day? 

x Dean 

P.S. I don't like airplanes. 

P.P.S. But I'm going to take you to all the places on these postcards some day. 

P.P.P.S. I hope you're still pinning these postcards to your wall so you can hold them over my head some day. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I'm sorry. 

xx Dean 

P.S. If I could have one superpower it would be the ability to control the weather. 

P.P.S. Getting snowed in would be a lot more fun WITH you. 

P.P.P.S. Maybe my superpower should’ve been teleportation! Damn it, is it too late to change my answer? 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

I just dropped Sam off for his first year of law school. I feel old. Luckily, he got another scholarship though, so I don't have to worry about paying his tuition. Kid's a major nerd. 

x Dean 

P.S. I'm actually in California! The salt air here makes me think of home, of you. You feel so far away right now. I'm not even looking at the same ocean. That sucks. 

P.P.S. We haven't talked in a while and I know that's mostly my fault, but I wanted to give you a heads up. I'm coming home... Soon. 

___________________________________

Dear Y/N, 

Did you notice there's no stamp? 

Always yours, 

xoxo Dean 

P.S. I was going to tell you to meet me where I first kissed you but that's a hell of a walk. So meet me under our streetlamp. The one where you put ice cream on my nose the first night we met. 

P.P.S. I hope you come, I can't wait to see you. But I understand and no hard feelings if you don't. 

_________________________

Part 5

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

When you arrived at the party, your friend Ava was waiting for you. “Where were you? Paul arrived alone and you weren’t answering my calls.” you sighed. Of course, Paul was not going to tell her what happened, he probably blamed you for it. It was always your fault.

“I’m sorry” you apologized, “but I had to make a quick wardrobe change” you explained removing your coat. Ava was speechless, “girl, I don’t know what you were wearing earlier, but this…” she did a dramatic pause, “this is hot” you smiled and blushed. You knew that Paul was looking at you, you could feel his eyes following every movement.

Ava walked you through the middle of people just to make Paul jealous, she knew he was going to act like a possessive boyfriend towards you. You didn’t care what he might say or do, you just wanted to have a nice evening and not have to leave the party earlier because he made you feel uncomfortable.

You were enjoying a drink with one of Ava’s friends when Paul approached you, grabbed your hand, and took you somewhere else. “What the hell?” you stopped him mid-step removing your arm from his grasp. “Don’t you think is enough attention for someone like you?“ Paul was drunk, obviously, and because he wasn’t having enough attention from the guests, he decided to make fun of you.

“Oh please. Go fuck yourself Paul” you said annoyed. When you tried to leave, he stopped you grabbing you by your arm. “I’m not done with you”

“I think you do pal,” someone said and you recognized his voice, it was Jeffrey. He puffed his chest making him even bigger than he already is. “Are you okay, Babygirl?” you nodded. “I think you’ve had enough to drink and is time to go home,” Jeffrey instructed putting an arm around your shoulders.

“Leave my girl alone,” Paul slurred, “Yeah, whatever. You’re not having her now” Jeffrey said leaving with you under his arm.

What had happened was a weird situation. Paul has never gotten that possessive before, he never treated you like this before, but what was even weirder was that you were still under Jeffrey’s arm and you felt safe with him.

“I’m sorry” you murmured, “It’s okay doll, don’t worry,” Jeffrey said caressing your cheek. Ava was a few feet away from you and she had a knowing smile, you saw her taking out her phone and a minute later your phone buzzed. “Maybe now you will notice what I’ve been telling you about Paul. Enjoy Jeffrey, he’s been looking at you ALL NIGHT LONG” she texted, you smiled and rolled your eyes.

“Drink this Babygirl, is water” Jeffrey handed you a cup, you drank it in one gulp, “you want more?” he asked you putting a strand of hair behind your ear, you shook your head. “I just want to go home,” you said and he nodded. He intertwined his fingers with yours and took you towards Ava, she nodded and wished both of you a good night. Both of you left in his car. The way Jeffrey praised you, talked to you and, treated you made you feel shy.

Jeffrey decided to take you to his apartment because he thought that Paul was going to go to yours looking out for you and he didn’t want to risk it.

Jeffrey brought you another glass of water and laid it on the table, he sat next to you on the couch with a beer in hand. You sighed and Jeffrey pulled you to his chest so you could lay your head on top of him.

“I’m sorry” you apologized again, “It was the first time that Paul acted like that towards me” you explained, “he was jealous,” you admitted

“Babygirl, I heard enough before I decided to intervene, he was wrong in every fucking word he said. You are worthy of every pair of eyes that look at you because that outfit makes wonders to your body. You look gorgeous Babygirl” you blushed at his words. No one ever has said such things to you, you were used to being degraded and humiliated by who you thought was your best friend.

“He doesn’t deserve you, Babygirl. You need someone who cares about you” you looked at him and nodded.

Jeffrey was giving you some back rubs to keep you relaxed, he knew you were feeling bad for what had happened at Ava’s party. You stayed like that for a while, soon you were dozing off.

You felt your body being moved from the original position you were and some minutes later, you were laid down in a more comfortable place. You opened your eyes and saw Jeffrey removing your shoes, “I’m sorry, Baby girl, I didn’t mean to wake you” Jeffrey apologized and then remove some hair from your face and kissed your forehead.

You put one of your hands in his face and leaned to kiss him, he sat next to you and pulled you to his lap. Instead, you straddled him and your skirt got up in the process.

Jeffrey started to caress you from your back to your ass, giving it a squeeze every time he touched it. You started to grin your hips, heating the make-out session.

The only things that could be heard were the grunts and moans erupting from you and Jeffrey. You tugged his t-shirt for him to remove it, he did as you requested and took your top along with his, throwing them together somewhere in his room.

He started to massage your tits and pinch your nipples to harden them even more. “Oh, daddy” you moaned when he started to suck one of them. You froze as soon as the words left your mouth and Jeffrey could feel it.

“Say it again, Babygirl,” Jeffrey commanded looking at your eyes. He started to suck one of your nipples again and you moaned “Daddy, please…”

It was like you had lighted a match because he engulfed you in his arms and threw you in bed. He peppered your body with kisses, removing your skirt in the process. There were a lot of sensations going through your body that you were ecstatic, your orgasm building up slowly at the pit of your stomach, you needed the release.

You slightly pushed Jeffrey to the bed, he getting the message, complied. You straddled him once again and started to grind again. You suddenly stopped and Jeffrey was about to apologize when he noticed you struggling to remove his pants, he smiled and helped you.

Once the pants were out from the middle, you started again to grind yourself again against his hardening cock. It felt amazing. You put one of his hands over his throat and fastened your movements.

Your release was there about to explode, you could feel the precum leaking and wetting his boxers and mixing with your wet underwear. Jeffrey could see you were about to cum, he slower your movements and started to thrust you. The new sensation felt incredible. With the change of movement, he made your orgasm explode, moaning his name out loud. You fell against his chest, tiredly.

“Already exhausted baby girl? But we are just starting” he joked and kissed your forehead once again

The night you spent with Jeffrey was beyond amazing, not only because of the sex but also because of the way he treated you and made you feel. No one has made you feel as safe as Jeffrey did, not even Paul.

Jeffrey didn't want you to stay at your old apartment because of what had happened at Ava's party, so he offered to stay with him until you could find a new place. You loved your apartment, but living with Paul was something you didn't want to keep experiencing.

When you were at your apartment grabbing some basic stuff you needed asap, when Paul appeared, "the whore is back, he got tired of you?" Jeffrey showed up from behind making Paul jump, "you know, she might be your girl, but she's calling me daddy" Jeffrey whispered to Paul's ear making him shiver from anger. Paul turned around and stormed out of the place. He finally got what he deserved.

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