#alpha!john

[dante-mightdie]

alpha!price who wants you to experience an enriched pregnancy. no busy cuties and polluted air, only the chirps of birds and fresh air filling your lungs. his lake cabin paired with a sturdy greenhouse, stocked with any fresh fruit or veggie you might want

hand-sewn maternity dresses from the local boutiques in town, which he would never expect you to trek to. arranges for the town doctor to travel an hour down to the cabin. hell, john will pick them up and drop them off if that’s what it takes

cozy rocking chair on the porch so you can watch him work on his pickup truck. his usual tobacco filled musk has slowly morphed into one of pine and fresh-cut grass. he’s always up, doing something. fishing for dinner or pulling those stubborn root vegetables from the ground

makes a whole ritual out of running your baths, measuring the temperature down to the very degree. safe soaps made from natural ingredients, lotions applied to your damp skin from the local farmer’s markets

the type of man who will go all out for your comfort. he will take the smallest room in the house, filling it with mattresses and duvets. plush pillows and velvety cushions. heaps of his washing tucked into random blanket forts for you to organise to your specific nesting needs

your favourite time of day is when he crawls into your nest as the sun sets. mattress springs creaking under his hefty weight. calloused hands smoothing over your bump, growing every day with his child. nose nuzzled into your neck so he can inhale your scent, lips grazing over the mark under your ear before he lathes over it with his tongue…

[the-californicationist]

Snare

(Alpha!Price/Omega!Reader)

Shrike by Hozier

You didn’t want to text him because you knew what he would say. He would beg you to take him back, beg you to let him move in again, guilt trip you by claiming he was sleeping on base in a cold office, in a cold bed, when he could be warming yours instead.

John Price was a bulldog, and since he'd had you in his mouth, he'd never let you go.

You stared down into the black mirror of your phone, looking at your own face as you contemplated your decision. The fever wasn’t going away this time, and you were all out of meds. It had been years since you’d gone through a heat, but switching jobs and your primary doctor retiring without telling you about it had left a gap in your prescription coverage, and now, a hot, sticky trail of slick was soaking into the lining of your yoga pants, drenching your panties as it slid out of your swollen core.

You tapped the screen. Then, with a sigh, you scrolled down until you found his name in your contacts.

Old messages waited to ambush you when you opened up the chat. Just looking at them made you sick to your stomach.

NOV22 You: where is it this time? You: let me guess You: you cant tell me Captain Arsehole: please don’t do this. Captain Arsehole: you know it’s classified. You: you can stay there, then. i’ll mail your shit to the base. You: some things never fucking change do they?

DEC 20 Captain Arsehole: i promise things will be better when i get back love. Captain Arsehole: can’t be home for xmas but i sent you a gift.

DEC25 Captain Arsehole: merry christmas, missus. Captain Arsehole: baby please talk to me. Captain Arsehole: you know you’re my omega, right? Captain Arsehole: no one else in the world for me. You: is that why i'm alone on xmas You: again

[3 missed calls from Captain Arsehole]

Captain Arsehole: pick up the phone

JAN01 Captain Arsehole: xx Captain Arsehole: home soon.

JAN13 Captain Arsehole: i’m back in town. Captain Arsehole: tour is done. bastard is dead for good this time. Captain Arsehole: why won’t you pick up my calls, missus?

JAN22 Captain Arsehole: i know i fucked up. Captain Arsehole: but i really need you, love. please pick up.

Typing the words was too hard. So, you left a voice memo instead, pushing the little microphone to record yourself, trying to sound all-business, nonchalant,

“I’m out of meds…” You paused, trying to come up with something quick and easy to say, “I can’t afford the A&E right now. Just… let me know if you’re free tonight.”

You felt your cheeks flush with a combination of your Omegan heat and your deep-seeded shame, and you retreated to the kitchen to put the kettle on. Maybe some soothing tea would help you.

Yeah, right.

Only a minute had passed until your phone started to ring. You had left it in the bedroom, so you finished setting up the tea before going to find it. Then, as you were walking back, it rang again. Two text alerts went off as well.

Captain Arsehole: pick up the bloody call, missus. Captain Arsehole: im on my way

You were just about to respond that you had changed your mind, frustrated by his use of your old pet name. He still hadn't signed the papers, but you'd finalized your half of the divorce a long time ago.

He called a third time. You almost let it go to voicemail before you picked up,

“Hel–”

“Are you home?” He interrupted you, and your whole body reacted when you heard his voice.

His dark, smoldering, all-too-familiar purr did something to you that you immediately resented. It warmed you in a place in your chest that you’d forgotten even existed. It stirred itself inside of you like a writhing snake, and your pussy even had the audacity to pulse at the thought of its favorite guest finally making a return visit.

You rolled your eyes and sighed,

“Yeah, John. I am.”

“I’m downstairs. Buzz me in.”

“How did you make it here so fast?”

There was a long pause. Then, you heard your flat’s gate alarm buzz in your foyer. You also listened to him let out a long sigh before muttering an answer to your question,

“I was in the neighborhood. Open up. It’s chuckin’ it down out here.”

You pushed the unlock button on the gate and listened to it click. You hung up the phone and found yourself pacing in the entryway of your flat, all the while chiding yourself for being unsettled by him so easily. But, it wasn’t your fault, you consoled yourself, you were in a bad heat. John Price is… was… your Alpha. It’s natural to want something safe and familiar, right? You chose not to think too hard about it lest your brain caught up with your heart and started poking holes in your logic.

A swift, rapping knock jolted you out of your pacing trance, and you peered through the peephole, gazing out at a man doing his own share of marching back and forth outside of your portal.

John Price was dressed in his work clothes, canvas jacket soaked by the rain, stretching over his immense back and shoulders. He was heavily muscled, even more so than you remembered, and he looked like he’d been baked in the sun over and over, a pink flush spreading across his nose and cheeks in a burn pattern that fit exactly with the terrible boonie hat he always wore. Said hat was crushed in his hands at the moment, and you noticed that he had recently trimmed his hair, high and tight, yet the beard remained.

Forgetting yourself, you watched him stewing, growing impatient, and he turned to bang on your door again, calling to you from the other side,

“C’mon, love. Lemme in.”

You slipped the bolt from the lock and swung it open, standing at the threshold to greet him. But, you didn’t wear a smile, nor did you move aside to let him pass.

When the air from your flat escaped out into the hallway, you watched as John took a deep breath in and shut his eyes, no doubt taking your scent into his lungs and getting drunk on the scent of your heat.

“John,” you said.

“Missus,” he replied, hands on his hips and a shit-eating grin on his face.

You scowled at him and moved to shut the door in his face. He stopped it with a wide palm, his fingers stretching out across the dark wood panel. You scoffed,

“You can’t call me that. Not anymore. Just go, John. I should’ve known better, honestly.”

He reached out to grab your chin in his hands, being rougher with you than you expected, catching you off-guard,

“Why? Tha’s what you bloody are, ain’t ya?”

You pulled your face away from him and bit back,

“No.”

“Oh?” He got cocky, sidling up to you, his body just close enough for you to smell his sweat and his Alphic scent, “So, tha’s why you fuckin’ reached out to me, innit? Just wanted to send me on my way again? After months of me, worried sick –”

“Worried!” You interrupted him harshly, “What do you think I was doing while you were gone? Worried… You don’t even know the half of it.”

“Not worried enough to pick up the bloody phone.”

“Just leave. I’ll figure it out. I’m used to being on my own these days.”

Your final words cut him like a knife. It was so sharp, he had a visceral reaction, and then he parried your attack with one of his own,

“You need me. I am your Alpha, and you are my Omega. And you wouldn’t have called me if you didn’t bloody need me.”

You were caught. You really didn’t want to spend your heat in the hospital. Not only was it embarrassing, but the cost would be out of your price range right now. But, if you were honest with yourself, you knew the real reason for your shift in attitude. He was right. You were still his Omega. You still wore his bite, and you’d never taken the pills to have it purged from your system. To heal. His mark was still there on your neck, red and scarred from his fearsome maw.

But, the real, honest truth was that a deep, soul-splitting part of you didn’t want to turn him away.

He noticed your demeanor change, watching how your eyes fell, trying to figure out what to say next, which quip to shoot at him with, but your quiver was all out of arrows.

John slid his hand around the nape of your neck, purposefully pressing his fingers along your swollen mating gland, feeling for the edge of his scarred mark, watching how his touch affected you. He softened his tone,

“You’re proper burnin’ up, love.”

“This…” You whispered, all the fire quenched from your words, “This is a one-time thing. Just…”

“Let me in, missus. You asked me to take care of you, and tha’s what I came to do.”

He pressed his way into your foyer, his boots stepping confidently into a flat that he knew well. He hung his jacket and his hat on hooks that he had screwed into the wall, hooks left unoccupied because only his jacket and his hat belonged on them. Then, he shucked off his shoes and left them to drip all over your floor, not giving a shit about anything other than crowding your space, bullying your body into the submission that it was currently craving.

But, you doubted your decision-making abilities. Maybe this was all a mistake. He’d give you the ride of your life, stuff you deep with his knot, and you’d wake up alone in an empty nest again, your supposed lover halfway across the world playing soldier on some desert theatre that used to be someone’s homeland…

“Maybe we shouldn’t,” you murmured, “I can’t do this again, John.”

He took your face in his hands and forced you to meet his eyes. Those bright blues tested your resolve, burning themselves into your vision like a tattoo on your mind. John frowned, but it was not from anger. It was concern.

“You think you can ride this out on your own, is that it? Think you’d survive the bloody fever,” his eyes narrowed into slits, “Much less the fuckin’ pain?”

“I dunno,” you shrugged, feeling your body start to tremble with need now that your Alpha was here, “I can’t… I can't fucking think.”

“Let me take care of you. You’ll always be mine.” He faltered, his voice breaking a bit as he rubbed his own mark at the base of his bulging trap muscle, “I can’t change that. I won’t.”

The door creaked as he pushed it closed, and you heard the bolt fall into the steel latch; rabbit in a snare.

[marginofthought]

sam presents as an omega and he has mary’s scent and it drives john and dean INSANE.

John doesn't know what to do: he wants to protect Sam in every way possible but then again how dare he smell like the person John loved the most, the one person Sam took away from him. The older Sam gets and the more his scent intensifies the less John knows what to do. He leaves the boys alone more often or just Sam by himself. And he barely lets Sam on hunts, that's too dangerous for an omega (that reminds him of Mary) and so Sam is relegated to a housebound researcher

For Dean it is much more freudian. Sam reminds him of something he lost once and he absolutely will not loose it again. For Dean, the older Sam gets, the more Dean wants to protect him, no, hide him away. Nobody should be allowed to be close enough to Sammy to scent him, that scent belongs to their family and no one else. Dean hates it when John takes him on hunts with Sam left behind, because by god, there is nothing Dean likes better than being left behind with Sam. He gets to keep Sam all for himself without having to worry about John's keen eyes. After Stanford and their dad going missing, Dean needs to cling to Sam, the embodiment of family. He constantly scents Sam and this time he can't explain his boners away by puberty.

[majordemonblockpartyy]

john sidelining teenaged omega!dean from a hunt they drove thirteen hours for because for the last three of those thirteen hours dean's been sitting beside him in the front seat, white-knuckling the road atlas and taking the carefully measured in-hold-two-three-four-five-six-out breaths that the marine corps taught john and john taught dean when he was little and would have those silent, gasping panic attacks anytime he smelled something burning that scared the ever-loving shit out of the both of them. each time john glances over at him from the corner of his eye, dean's pallor is white as an over-bleached motel sheet and he looks like he's about to hurl, even though he's never been the type of kid to get carsick.

john waits until they're all already in the motel room -- nominally to have a piss and a stretch, and to dump sammy with his bookbag before they head out -- to tell dean.

"think you're gonna have to sit this one out, dude," he says, keeping his eyes on the weapons bag he's been rifling through since he sat down on the edge of the bed closest the door, as if he couldn't name every item in it without looking and identify them all by touch. "you're not lookin' so hot; think it might be better if I tackle this one on my own."

dean stares at him for a second, like he's hearing the words on a ten-second tape delay, then lets out an exasperated,"dad!"

and if he'd had any doubts before then, john knows for certain that he really doesn't feel well, because dean can bitch and moan with the very best of 'em, but very rarely does he genuinely whine.

"c'mon!" dean's saying, all cajoling tone as if john's gonna take him anywhere like this, all syrupy movements and glassy preheat feverish eyes and the telltale pink flush climbing up his neck and chest. "we just drove thirteen fucking hours, and now that we're finally here, you're -- what, you're gonna leave me here with sammy?"

(sammy, very conspicuously, glances up at john from under the shag of his bangs and slow-blinks at him, pack member to pack alpha, go ahead; I'll follow your lead.)

"come on, dad; it's stupid to try and do this alone, you know it's stupid. 's why you dragged us up here in the first place! let's just go already and be quick about it. I mean, shit; we leave now, we'll be done before it's even dark out!"

john tosses a short silver dagger still secured in its leather sheath at dean. it hits him square in the chest, hard enough to startle a pained little grunt from him, all those usually so-quick reflexes shot to shit by the thrall of his forthcoming heat.

"yeah," john drawls, rolling up to his feet -- he hadn't even taken his boots off -- "that's what I thought. you're no good to me on a hunt like this, dean, and just as liable to get us both dead out there. why didn't you say anything, if you knew you were this close?"

dean slumps over, john's dagger caught up in the crumple of polyester coverlet beneath him, misery clear in every taut line of his body. "I figured it'd pass. once we were outta the car and... moving around a little. you know how it goes at first." (john does not know. he's an alpha, born to two betas and widowed to another; he doesn't have a fucking clue how it goes at first.) "look," he says, levering himself back up into a sitting position, pretending he's not fighting back a wince all the while, "gimme, like, fifteen minutes. I'll be good to go, I swear."

"swear all you want," john tells him, swinging the bag up onto his shoulder, "but you ain't goin' anyplace except right back to that bed."

dean lets out a half-hearted string of profanity as he curls back up on his side, the type of words that could probably peel paint at full strength, but are just vaguely pathetic as they arrive, muttered into the sagging motel mattress and accompanied by a dour, half-hazed teenaged glare.

john fishes one-handed for his wallet and snakes out forty bucks, which he tosses onto the pages of sammy's open textbook. geometry, maybe, from the upside down glimpse he gets. "watch out for you brother," john tells him, the same stern tone he usually takes with his eldest.

"yessir," sam says without looking up, folding the bills into his palm magic-trick quick; now you see 'em, now you don't. "you know I always do."

[bluelolblue]

The Ecstasy of Temptation

Summary: During the celebration that the D'Antonio siblings organized, with a bit of too many glasses of wine, the young omega, Santino, unexpectedly went in heat. The only one who could help him handle that was his alpha bodyguard, John, even if that meant breaking the rules of the contract. And he took great care of Santino in his heat.

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Santino D'Antonio/John Wick

Note: August 12th, (12.8.) 2023 was the day I got registered on ao3, became LittleRealSimp. The day I officially joined. The lore behind this silly username is literally me and my irl bestie sitting in a park and talking about how we're gonna name ourselves there. And we both came up with silly usernames ehehe :P. I can't believe it's already been a year, like what, A WHOLE YEAR! I was lurking on ao3 for a VERY long time, and during summer 2023, I got enough courage to start posting.

This fic is a gift for @mrssimply because really her fics were the ones that helped me get through that summer and inspired me to start working on my own fics. I remember reading those fics on the terrace, at evening, so those are really some of my favorite memories from my vacation. BUT ALSO thank you for being my beta reader, a friend, a support, helping me out so much, and all our conversations, that really means a lot to me! Thank you for reading this, too! I'm so happy you like it! <3

Ahh this all made me emotional. I'm just so happy and can't believe it was already a year, and so much had happened. What a journey, and it's still going!

1 year anniversary of me officially joining on ao3, celebrating with a new fic!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Snippet

The D'Antonio siblings threw a celebration over gaining more territory. Gianna was in charge there, greeting guests and having everything under control. Santino, on the other hand, regretted even being there.

He usually liked those celebrations only because he actually felt included and he could drink more wine. The guests were annoying to him probably because most of them were alphas and only a few people knew Santino was an omega. Gianna, his family and John who was assigned as his bodyguard. Who was also an alpha.

John knew he wasn't supposed to have anything with Santino. The contract made that very clear and Gianna's order to him not to react at his heat or his actions during it. He listened of course, but he had to admit, Santino was tempting. The omega didn't want to play by the rules, always teasing John when he had a chance to.

Tonight, John had to keep Santino in his sight all the time. With other alphas around, powerful people, anything was possible. Santino was wearing blockers, he always did when he was around people. He hated the way some alphas would look at him as if they knew.

John kept his distance, watching how Santino was on his second glass of wine and accompanied by a younger alpha. Santino didn't seem interested in the guy, he was just pretending to listen to whatever he was saying.

Luckily, Gianna came to check out the situation. She excused Santino for a moment, going to a private room.

“Don't drink too much, you know how wine affects you,” Gianna reminded him, not looking very pleased.

“I know, don't worry,” Santino reassured her, “Thanks for getting me out of that situation. That guy was not shutting up.”

“Yes, I could tell.” His sister agreed, “Just go easy on the drinks, it could trigger your heat. After all, alphas are all around.”

“I'm wearing blockers, they can't scent me.” Santino fixed his tie, checking himself out in a small mirror on the wall.

Gianna sighed, walking over to him to fix his hair, but the omega moved away.

“Your heat is supposed to come… tomorrow? Or in two days?” Gianna tried to remember his last heat, she has lost track of his cycles ever since he kinda snapped at her for doing that.

Read the rest on ao3

[crashdevlin]

Appointment in Samarra

Author’s Note: This is part Thirty of The Best Laid Plans series

Summary: Dean goes to Death in an effort to save Sam. Everything falls apart from there.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader

Word count: 4018

Story Warnings:  angst...A/B/O dynamics, canon divergence, mentions of physical violence against the reader, Sam is a douchebag because no soul, there's some drugs in the mix but not recreationally

~~~

"Are you out of your goddamn mind?" you asked, watching Dean toss his bag into the back of the Impala.

"No. This is the right call, Y/n."

"Ya know, I could kinda support working for a demon to get Sam's soul back, and I could kinda see working with another one to get him back for you, but Death? Really?" You slammed your hand on the driver's door to stop him from opening it and driving away. "You want to kill yourself to call a reaper in the hopes of getting ahold of-"

"Of the only Horseman who cared about setting shit back to normal after Lucifer popped out? Yeah! You got a problem with that, Y/n?" Dean snapped.

"Yes! I do. Death does not owe you a favor! Death is fucking Death! You're really gonna ask him to save Sam?! He's part of why Sam ended up in the Cage in the first damn place!"

"Sam ended up-" Dean shook his head and grabbed your wrist. "Come with me or don't."

You pulled your hand back and crossed your arms over your chest. "I'm not going to watch you die to save Sam again."

"Then I'll see you when I got Sam back."

You watched him drive away until you couldn’t see the taillights anymore.

"He just won't let it go." Sam's voice made you jump and turn to find him leaning against the motel door. "Even after both Cas and Crowley said my soul is probably shredded, he still wants to put it-"

"We've done Hell, Sam. If we could live with it, then you-"

"Shouldn't have to. After everything I've been through, you really think I deserve-"

You rolled your eyes and pulled out the motel key. "You don't get to make that decision, Sam. You chose to die. After everything, you chose to die. Someone brought you back. You don't get to decide that you don't have to feel it."

"You know I could kill you without giving it a second thought, and you still have the balls to talk to me like that?"

You pushed the key into the lock and twisted it, looking over your shoulder at him as you pushed the door open. "You could have killed me a hundred times. You don’t have the balls to go through with it."

"Omega, stop," he growled, and your body stopped in its tracks. Sam's arm wrapped around your chest and yanked you back into his body. Fear flooded you as you tried to resist the Voice. "You forget how easy I could turn you into exactly what you've been trying not to be. A few simple words in the right tone, and you're fucking putty. You wanna act all big and bad, but without Dean and Dad around to stop me, you are just another weak little omega who doesn't know her place. I could mark you all over again if-"

"I will cut you out of me again if you try," you promised.

"Not if I took you somewhere secret and locked you up. Knocked you up. Leave you naked and pregnant, just like an omega's supposed to be."

"You're gonna hate yourself for this shit when Dean gets your soul back," you growled out as John's voice rang out across the parking lot.

"The hell's wrong with you?! Let 'er go!" John's scent enveloped you as his hand wrapped around your upper arm and pulled you from Sam's grasp. "What, as soon as your brother drives away, you take a stab at Y/n? You might not have a soul, but you know better than to take another alpha's-"

"She doesn't belong to him. I don't have a soul, and that's why I can see this for what it is: a lovesick omega following around an alpha who might love her with everything in him but will never make her his because he will never take away her escape hatch." Your heart fell into your stomach at Sam's words. Why did they have to seem so fucking accurate? "She's gonna die waiting for him," Sam finished before walking away and jumping into the back of John's truck.

"He doesn't mean that. He's just tryin' to hurt you. Dean loves you, girl."

"Yeah, I know...but…” You smiled up at John and shrugged. “Sam’s not wrong. He’s an asshole, but he’s not wrong, John. Dean’s never going to mark me. I’ve made my peace with that.”

“You can’t have. You’re-”

You patted his shoulder and reached down to pick up your duffel bag from inside the door. “One day, I’m gonna go into heat, and I’m not gonna be able to come down. The fever is gonna boil my brain, and my organs are gonna shut down, and it’ll be because Dean wanted to give me the opportunity to find an Alpha better than him. I know that. I know that’s how I’m gonna go out. More than Dean knows he’s gonna go out on a hunt someday. I have made my peace. Because I have his love, I don’t need his mark.” You laughed a little sadly and looked into his eyes. “Tell me you feel anything else in me.”

“It’s not fair,” he said, eventually.

“Life never is.” You walked past him and climbed into the cab of the truck, your bag at your feet.

~~~~

"Death agreed to get his soul back?” John asked, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Dean nodded. “I got him to agree to go down and pluck-”

“You what?!” Sam exploded.

“Just hear me out,” Dean implored.

“I heard Cas and Crowley when they said it would either kill me or turn me to Jell-o, Dean! I heard enough!”

“Death said he can put up a wall.”

“A wall?”

“Yes. Yes, a wall that--that, basically, you wouldn’t remember Hell.”

You rolled your eyes at the idea that Sam would get away without any of the damage of Hellfire.

“Really?”

“Really,” Dean confirmed.

“For good? Like a cure?”

Dean looked over to you, Bobby, and John. “No, it’s not a cure. It...he said it could last a lifetime.”

“Great. So, playin’ pretty fast and loose with my life here, don’t you think, Dean?”

“I’m trying to save your life!”

“Exactly, Dean! It’s my life! It’s my life, it’s my soul...and it sure as hell ain’t your head that’s gonna explode when this whole scheme of yours goes sideways!” Sam exclaimed.

You shook your head and stood. “Here’s a question. Death isn’t really the type to just do this kind of major thing out of the goodness of his Horseman heart. What’s on the line on your end, Dean?”

Sam looked like he hadn’t even considered it, but Bobby and John both leaned forward as Dean looked away, uncomfortable. “Sorry, we didn’t get that,” Bobby urged.

“I have to wear the ring for a day,” Dean answered.

“Why the hell would he want you to do that?” Bobby asked.

“Get his rocks off. I don’t know. But I’m doin’ it.” Sam scoffed and started to walk out of the study. “Where you goin’?” Dean asked.

“Look, I hear you, all right? I get it. I just need a minute to wrap my head around it, all right?”

You watched as Sam grabbed his jacket and disappeared out the door into the salvage yard. “You know he went to-”

“Yeah,” Dean interrupted, before patting his pocket. “Way ahead of ‘im.”

You looked up into his eyes and licked your lips. “Okay. So...Death for a day, huh?”

“Gonna try to talk me out of it?”

“Nope.” You leaned against Bobby’s desk and shrugged. “I’d never win.”

“Damn right.” Dean grabbed his jacket and slipped it on as he headed out the door, Bobby following him.

John stayed behind. “Wow. I can’t even imagine doing Death’s job.”

You licked your lips and looked over at the bookshelf. “I can. I’ve...I’ve had long conversations with Hades and Charon about...reaping...death.” You scoffed and spun to grab a book. “It’s so unfair. I remember...I remember Hell. I remember the Underworld. I remember the torture and the fear and the hopelessness and Sam...Sam gets to forget. How unfair.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” You flipped open the book and looked down at a classical drawing of Hades. “Life’s unfair.”

~~~~

Your bed seemed too soft. The pillows hurt your neck. You stared at the ceiling above you but it didn’t matter. No sleep would come with Dean playing Death and Sam...somewhere. You turned on your side and looked across the room.

Dean would do anything for that jerk. Sam had been horrible to you in so many ways. With his soul, without his soul, on demon blood, sober...none of it seemed to really matter. Sam could do anything and Dean would still risk life and limb for him.

“Sam’s back. Wouldn’t tell us where he went,” Bobby said, stepping into your doorway.

“Doesn’t matter. When Dean gets back, everything will go back to how it used to be...which will be...just fine, I suppose.”

"You don't really sound too keen on that, girl."

You sat up and shrugged. "Sam has been...five different kinds of...he hasn't really respected me in a long time, Bobby. He went off to Stanford, became a 'normal' jerk, and forgot who he was...forgot who I was. Every once in a while, I'll get a glimmer of the old Sam but...the surface Sam...even when he has a soul...when we get him back…"

"Then maybe you shouldn't be with them boys anymore, Y/n." You rolled your eyes and looked away. "No, I know. You love Dean. We all know you love Dean but look at it clear." Bobby stepped in and kneeled down in front of you. "You can always love again. There is an alpha out there that'll love you every bit of what Dean does, who will mark you and not leave you twisted like this...who won't leave you to die...who won't pick his brother over you. Those boys are family and I love 'em, you know I do, but Dean will always put Sam ahead of everythin' else and Sam will always kinda feel like you shoulda been his."

You shook your head. "Bobby, you can’t lecture me about all the fish in the sea." You looked away and focused on the clock on your side table. "You never remarried. You don't date. You found your love and you have-"

"That's not the same thing. What happened to...my wife, it was traumatic...and it ain't like there's a lot of women my age who'd understand my life."

"And who is gonna understand my life, huh?" You stood and leaned against your dresser as Bobby stood. "No one would. Not even other hunters."

"Well, maybe you don't go fer a hunter this time, Y/n." Bobby's words made your eyebrows come together in confusion. "Yer daddy didn't want you in this life. He didn't want you with some asshole hunter alpha and he didn't-"

"It's too late! We already fucked that up years ago and-" You interrupted but Bobby talked over you.

"He didn't want you to be a hunter either and it ain't too late for you to get out of the game and set up in a-"

"It is too late!" You threw your hands up and stomped around him, irritation pouring off of you. "I am too damaged to even attempt normal."

"No, you are not. If Dean could do normal for a year with Lisa and her boy, then you can-"

"Did you bring that up just to hurt me?" you snapped.

Bobby’s entire demeanor softened. “No, of course not.” He reached out and gently grabbed your shoulders. “I never want to hurt you. I’m just sayin’...Dean has been through the same thing you’ve been through...and he was able to-to spend all that time...he was able to be normal, Y/n, for a year. You could be normal, too.”

“Why are you pushing for this now? Huh?”

“Because Dean’s never gonna abandon Sam...and Sam’s always going to be a sore subject for you...and you…” Bobby sighed and looked pointedly at your neck. “You’re free, Y/n. You don’t have marks. You don’t have scars. You have love and devotion for a man who has finally admitted he feels the same and I know that is an amazing thing for you but why don’t you take your freedom and-”

Fear and anger flooded you and it took you a moment to realize that the feelings weren’t your reaction to Bobby’s words. A flash of Sam standing over John with a large wrench hit you and you flew into action, slapping Bobby’s hands off of you and diving for the box of medicine under your bed.

“What’s going on?”

“Sam’s off his nut, go stop him!” you said, pulling out a syringe and a small glass vial. You didn’t even try to calculate how much propofol would be required for an alpha with 200 pounds of pure muscle; you just filled the syringe and followed Bobby down the stairs and into the kitchen. You gasped at the image of Bobby trying to wrestle the heavy wrench away from Sam as John lay bleeding on the floor in front of the fridge. You jumped at him, jamming the needle into his carotid. He growled and you fell back as he thrashed to get Bobby off of him.

“Get off! I have to do this!”

“You’re insane! That’s your father!” Bobby grunted out as you stood and jammed the plunger of the syringe down, flooding Sam’s system with sedatives.

You dropped to your knees next to John, putting your hand over the gaping wound on the side of his head. “Oh, god, John. Bobby, get me a towel as soon as Sam drops!”

“What’d you give ‘im?” Bobby’s voice strained as Sam went limp against him.

“Propofol.”

“Why do you have propofol?”

“Why do you have opium?” you snapped as you snatched the towel he offered you from his hand. “I thought it might knock me out long enough to get through a heat, but it only worked for a few hours.”

Bobby didn’t ask for further explanation as he checked John’s pulse and stepped away to grab Sam’s arms and pull him toward the basement.

“W’happen?” John groaned as his eyes fluttered open.

“Sam tried to kill you. Can you sit up?”

“Yeah.” John set his hands down and tried to sit up, but failed. “Guess not.”

“You’re probably concussed. We’ll get you onto the couch in the study in a minute. What the fuck happened?"

“Um...he said...he had to. He said that...he had to make his vessel...unfit or…”

You sighed heavily. “Of course. If he makes his vessel unclean, his soul won’t go back. Patricide.” You shook your head and stood, planting your feet on the tile and grabbing his hands, pulling him to his feet.

“How’d you stop ‘im?” John asked, limping toward the couch in the study.

“I gave him a bunch of propofol.”

“What, really? How’d you know how much to give him?”

“I didn’t.”

“Wait.” John grabbed your elbow as he stopped in front of the couch. “Is he gonna die? Isn’t that what killed Michael Jackson?”

“I don’t know.”

“I’m pretty sure that doctor gave Jackson too much-”

“I don’t know if Sam is going to die, John,” you clarified. “And I don’t care. I didn’t have time to calculate how much to give him, I just saved your life.”

“Thank you. I...can’t…”

“Just lay down and get some rest. Bobby and I will deal with Sam.”

John nodded slowly and sat down, resting his head against the arm of the couch. His eyes fluttered closed and you ran your hand down your face before turning to head down into the basement.

~~~~

"How long's he gonna be out?"

You shrugged and ran the tip of your knife under your thumbnail. "I don't know. I've never shot up a full-grown, soulless monster before."

"Ya know, you're real fucking nonchalant about the fact that you might've killed my brother," Dean growled.

"Next time, I'll let him kill everybody in a bid to keep your plan to restore his soul from working out," you responded, clicking the knife closed and tucking it in your pocket. "Speaking of failures, when he does wake up, we just gonna leave him locked in the panic room for the rest of his life or what?"

"I didn’t fail," Dean protested. “And I learned...I went back...I fixed…”

"Didn't succeed," you argued. "You couldn’t hack it as Death and I think I saw that coming because you've never been able to really handle anyone's passing...especially Sam...and isn't that the lesson Death was going for? All things must end, all things must die, stop obsessively trying to skirt death?"

"I didn’t bring Sam back this time. I...I stayed in Cicero. I did what I promised! Someone else brought him back and I'm supposed to pay for it?"

"Of course. It's your job, isn't it? You've always been responsible for that kid."

"She's very smart, isn't she?" a voice with a proper tone made your head snap to the right, where a skinny man in black was suddenly sitting at the table. “Dean, join me. Brought you one.” The Horseman offered Dean a hotdog wrapped in foil. “From a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs. Sit.”

“Should I?” You motioned at the door to the study.

“No, no. Stay. I didn’t bring a dog for you, unfortunately.” He gestured at the seat on his left as Dean sat in the one on his right.

“Wow, what’s with you and cheap food?” Dean asked.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Death replied. “Thought I’d have a treat before I put the ring back on.” Dean pulled the ring out of his pocket and rolled it between his fingers. “Heavier than it looks, isn’t it? Sometimes, you just want the thing off. But you know that.” Death picked up a beer and looked down at Dean’s unopened hot dog. “Not hungry?”

“Look. I think you know that I flunked. So there.” Dean thunked the ring down on the table between them. “Oh, and by the way, I, uh...I sucked at bein’ you. Really screwed up the whole ‘natural order’ thing. But I’m sure you knew about that, too.”

“So, if you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl? No fuss, no stompling your feet?”

“Knowing what I know now, yeah.”

“I’m surprised to hear that,” Death said, before taking a drink of his beer. “Surprised and glad.”

“Yeah, well, don’t get excited. I would saved the nurse, okay? That’s it.”

“I think it’s a little more than that. Today, you got a hard look behind the curtain. Wrecking the natural order's not quite such fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it? This is hard for you, Dean. You throw away your life because you've come to assume that it'll bounce right back into your lap. But the human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. And more valuable than you can imagine.” The way those words were said, it seemed like Death was trying to convey some cryptic message. “So...I think you've learned something today.”

“Want to know what I think? I think you knew that I wouldn't last a day,” Dean accused.

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“I lost. Fine. But at least have the balls to admit that it was rigged from the jump.”

The chill that went through Dean at the look Death gave him was felt by you from across the table. “Most people speak to me with more respect,” Death warned.

“I didn't mean…”

“We're done here. It's been lovely.” Death stood, obviously unhappy with Dean’s attitude. “But now I'm going to go to hell to get your brother's soul.”

Both of you looked up at Death with wide eyes. “Why would you do that for me?” Dean asked.

“I wouldn't do it for you. You and your brother and this one keep coming back. You're an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale.

“Apologize for that.”

“But you have use. Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid detective. I want you to keep digging, Dean.”

“So you're just gonna be cryptic, or…”

Death leaned over Dean, picking up the ring from the table. “It's about the souls. You'll understand when you need to.”

“Wait,” Dean urged as Death started to slip the ring onto his finger. “With Sam...Is this wall thing really gonna work?

“Call it 75 percent.”

As Death disappeared, you and Dean stared at each other. “So, that was Death? Seems nice enough,” you eventually said.

“How long do you think-”

“He’s Death.” You stood and started for the basement, Dean rushing ahead as soon as you hit the bottom of the stairs. You watched from the corner as Sam screamed and Death gave him his soul and the wall. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he’d get to not remember. You walked up the stairs and into the study, looking down at John as he slept.

“It’s not fair, is it?” You gasped as you turned to see Death standing in the doorway, leaning on his cane.

“Life’s not-”

“Yes, I’ve been around long enough to have garnered that gem of wisdom,” he said, a bit condescendingly. “You were sent to Hell. Your soul was rescued, given new life. You died trying to prevent the End. Your soul was rescued, given new life. You are a scarred and scared young woman who never wanted to be a twice-dead, thrice-alive omega Hunter in the first place.”

“I’m not a young woman,” you whispered.

“I’ve been around longer than almost anything in the universe, Y/n. You’re an embryo compared to me.” Death stepped forward, tilting his head slightly as he examined you. “But you’re right. Why should you have to remember what has damaged you when Sam gets to forget?”

“I’m not the special Winchester Lucifer vessel that saved the world. That’s why Sam gets-”

“That isn’t what I’m asking. I’m asking if you want to forget as well.”

Your eyebrows came together at the question. If he could make you forget Hell, you could sleep again. You could dream again. You could move forward, move on. “Yes, but why would you?”

“I’m a fan of equality,” Death said, reaching out his hand.

“Will I remember not to scratch at the wall?”

“Oh, I’m doing something slightly different for you, my dear,” he responded, before fitting his palm against your forehead.

~~~~

You woke up and stretched. Today was going to be a good day. New city, new job, new start. You wished your dad was alive to see this. Or Bobby. You missed them both fiercely, but they were Hunters. Hunters never survived for long.

That’s why you promised your dad you would never pick up the rock salt, because he wanted his little girl to live a long, happy, normal life.

“31 years down, 70 more to go,” you whispered to the Heavens as you got out of bed and headed for the shower. As you undressed, your focus pinpointed the smooth skin of your neck. You suddenly yearned for a mark, but that was silly. You didn’t have an alpha. You didn’t know any alphas worth being marked. The only alphas you’d ever spent any real time with were Sam and Dean but you hadn’t seen them since you were a teen. “Silly omega bullshit.” You shook your head at yourself and got into the shower to get ready for your first day as a curator for the Natural History Museum.

“It’s gonna be a good day.”

[holylulusworld]

Bad Deal

Title: Bad Deal

Written for @spnabobingo​ ​: Slutty Omega

Summary: You’re more than a slutty omega to John.

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Alpha!John Winchester x Omega!Reader

Characters: Pimp!Benny Lafitte, Castiel Novak

Warnings: angst, language, John is a douche for a moment, prostitution, reader needs the money, but she likes to fuck, so it’s okay, slutty omega, dirty talk, orgasm denial (kinda), I’ll label this one lightly dub-con, oral (fem rec), implied oral (male rec), mentions of fingering, smut, unprotected sex, creampie, John likes to trick people to get what he wants, daddy kink, age gap (John is 50+, the reader 22-30), a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, collars, slut-shaming

Words: 1,7 k

Divider by @firefly-graphics

2021 SPN A/B/O BINGO masterlist

“That’s the one I want,” the man points at you, smirking. He runs his tongue over pearl-white teeth, showing off dominance when he cups the back of your neck roughly. “I want to fuck that omega tonight, Benny.”

“She’s all yours,” Benny, your pimp snickers. “Be aware, she’s new to the job. It’s her first rodeo tonight, John. If you want someone more experienced…”

“Fuck,” you find yourself thrown over the alpha’s shoulder, squeaking as he carries you toward the door. “Benny?”

“John always takes the girls home, sweetie. He pays well, does not hurt the girls and likes to go all night. You better give him that slutty pussy tonight, or you are out. He’s one of my best clients.”

“Yes, boss,” you mumble mindlessly. The scent of the alpha carrying you out of the house has you on the edge once again.

“I can smell your slick, omega. You’re a slutty little thing, huh?” the alpha chuckles darkly as you hang over his shoulder, sighing deeply. “That’s no shame, doll. An omega can be as slutty as she wants to. I like me a wet little hole ready to take my knot.”

“Yes, Sir…” he groans at the title, cock twitching in his pants. “Or do you want me to call you John? Sir?” John thinks about your offer for a moment. He stops right in front of the limousine, looking at his driver.

“Call me daddy when I fuck you, little slut. I only want you to moan, take cock and call me daddy. If you do so, you’ll get a lot of money tonight.”

“Yes…daddy…Sir…”

“Good girl,” your pussy clenches around nothing at his praise. “I can barely wait to fuck you…”

You barely made it into his mansion before you found yourself naked, on your knees, choking on his cock. You eagerly sucked him off, bathing in his praises.

But this wasn’t enough for John. No, he bent you over his desk, fingerfucking you, teasing you, until you were a begging mess. He told you about rules and money, his life, and anything in between, but you were too far gone to understand the meaning of his words.

You moaned and agreed to anything he asked you to do only to feel his cock inside of your needy hole. And to hear more praises falling from his lips.

Now you are spread out on his bed, wrists restrained to his bedpost, legs spread wide, and the alpha so deep inside of you it almost hurts.

Almost…

"Oh, doll. You are much too into getting fucked by me. Do you love getting railed by daddy?" he’s taunting you, not only with his voice going straight to your core but his perfect cock too.

"Please," it’s an unheard plea. This is a job. You are here to satisfy his needs, not yours. Even though, you would sell your soul to cum for John Winchester.

"Baby doll, if you cum, I won't pay for the sex," he threatens, making you whimper and whine. "You better not choke my cock, doll. You agreed to not cum in return for the money you owe Benny.”

He smirks darkly as his hands push your knees up to your chest. "Oh, GOD! HE will fire me if you do not pay. Please. I need this John!” you choke out, pleading the alpha to not force an orgasm on your body.

"Well, then you shouldn't come at the first job you got from Benny," you love and hate his smirk all at once. Wishing you could tell him to go and fuck himself. But the job must be done. And this doesn’t include an orgasm for you…sadly…

"I-I can’t stop it. You're so-“ your head is spinning and you are so painfully close to your orgasm that you cry out in frustration as you are forced to hold it back.

"Good at fucking?" he sneers, eyes glued to his rigid cock sliding in and out of your leaking pussy. "I only pay for omegas not wanting anything in return but money. I love you are a slutty little thing, ready to explode around me. But this wasn’t the deal."

"Please stop making me cum!" it's too late. Tears run down your face when your cunt convulses around his thick cock. You whimper and babble, eyes wide and fearful. “No, please. I didn’t want to cum. I tried so hard, please…daddy!”

"Aw, this means a free fuck for me, doll," he grins smugly. John would never give away you look pretty, face contorted in pleasure but a hint of fear in your eyes. "Gotta make the best out of it and cum inside."

"NO! You said you'll come all over me!" you cry, wiggling your hips. “Please! Don’t! No knotting. This wasn’t included!”

"You said you wouldn't cum all over me," he retorts, pushing even harder into your spent pussy. "That’s it, take my cum and my knot, whore."

"You- no!" to your shame you cum again when he mutters slut and best pussy. 

John empties himself inside of you, groaning deeply at the sight of your tears and your parted lips. He shoves himself as deep as possible into your channel, smirking as his knot stretches your walls out, making you cry out in pleasure for the third time.

"You can tell Benny the fuck was great. But girls don't get to cum if I pay them to make me happy. Tight cunt or not, you won’t get away with having an orgasm for free..."

“Y/N, are you fucking kidding me?” Benny glares at you. He yells at you in front of all the other girls, making sure everyone knows you fucked up big time. “I gave you a place to sleep and a job. I told you to not fuck your first job up and you didn’t get a single buck from John Winchester?”

“He made me cum and said that—” you sniffle as Benny throws your bags at you. “Please, I tried anything. John said he doesn’t pay if the girl has fun too…”

“That’s one of his rules, Y/N. Did you even listen to him or was your slutty pussy in your way? How many times do you want to fuck up your life?”

“Benny, please. I can do better,” you plea, holding out your hand. 

“Go,” he points at the door. “If we lost John tonight, you’ll wish you never met me. Go and sleep on the street. Fuck the next job up…”

You pick your bags up, nodding silently. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle. “I can’t control my body. No one can.” You angrily stomp toward the door, slamming it shut. “Fuck’s sake.”

“Aw, a pretty girl shouldn’t curse, doll,” John Winchester dares to smirk at you. “Did he already kick you out?” you nod, glancing at the collar dangling from John’s index finger. It’s a black leather collar, decorated with diamonds which form his initials, JW.

“Good, give my driver the bags. I want your panties gone and you in the backseat of my car. I’ll have a serious conversation with Benny. Here—” he shows you the collar, smirking darkly, “put this on. You are mine from now on. Everyone needs to know you are…”

“What?” your heart does somersaults, and you feel your pussy slick as the alpha steps closer to hold the collar in front of your face.

“You’re mine. Now get in the fucking limousine. I want your ass up, and your pussy on full display when I’m back. Got it, doll?”

You snatch the collar out of his hands, smiling dopily. “Yes, daddy,” you choke out. 

“Good girl…”

“Fuck, tastes so good. Nothing better than a leaking pussy,” John purrs against your flesh. He greedily laps at your pussy, groaning as he drinks your juices. “I bet you were drenched all day, waiting for daddy to come back.”

“I got fired,” you whine into the soft leather of his jacket he placed onto the backseat for you. “Benny fired me. I need to find a new job.”

“Your only job is to keep me happy from now on. Or rather, my knot,” he grips your ass tighter, spreads your cheeks to lick a long strip from your clit to your opening. “You keep your pussy wet for me, and I’ll pay for everything you need.”

“You will?” humming against your heated flesh John wraps his lips around your clit, suckling hard. “Can I cum? Please, daddy?”

“Just cum all over my face, soak my beard…” he smirks against you, feeling his cock swell as you chant his name. “You’re mine. Sweet omega...mine.”

“John, did you even listen?” the alpha sniffs at his fingers, inhales the scent of your cunt deeply. “John, can you stop thinking about the new girl in your bed? We need you to focus on business, not your knot.”

“I heard every word, Crowley,” John grits his teeth. “If you ever talk about my new girl again, you will not like my answer. She’s not yours to think about.”

“Possessive much,” Crowley just loves to rile other alphas up. He smirks, drinking John’s angry features in. “Aw, that omega makes you all tingly, huh? Is she sweet and young? Is it love this time?”

“Last warning,” this time John slowly gets up from his seat to stalk toward his business partner. “If you ever mention my girl again, we are done.”

“Would you just look at that?” John purrs when he enters the bedroom. “Such good girl waiting for me. Ready to take my knot again.” He admires you on his bed, wearing only the collar and a sweet smile. “Is my good girl wet again?”

“Yes, daddy,” you crawl toward the edge of the bed, eyes dropping to the prominent bulge in his pants. “I have missed your cock. Will you give it to me?”

“Oh, doll. You will always get my cock…always,” he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. “You are mine after all and daddy loves to spoil his princess...”

Six months later. One of Benny’s clubs…

“That fucker planned all of this, didn’t he?” Benny grumbles as he must watch John bring you onto his lap, hands palming your ass. You and your alpha entered the club moments ago, and now, your former boss can barely tame his anger. “He knew I got a fresh face and made sure he gets his hands on her.”

“Well, buddy. That’s your fault, isn’t it,” Castiel smirks as you giggle at something John said. “Come on. You know the girl didn’t belong. She never was meant to be one of your girls. She’s a little slut, but only for John Winchester.”

“She would’ve made a lot of money for me. A shame I let her go…”

Tags in reblog.

[writethelifeyouwant]

Can’t Tie Me Down

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader | Sam Winchester x Reader | John Winchester x Reader Rating: 18+ Warnings: Dub-Con (medical necessity - Ch 1 and 3), Non-Con Roleplay (Ch 1 and 2),  Non-Con (Ch 5 / 6) Tags: Omegaverse, Alpha!Dean, Alpha!Sam, Alpha!John, Omega!Reader Summary: Y/N has no interest in being tied down by a mate, but she still needs help with her heats when they come around.

Chapter 1 

Chapter 2 

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5  

Chapter 6