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Added: Cherika Ballentine - Date: 29.06.2022 00:39 - Views: 20027 - Clicks: 8469

Pairing : Alpha! John x Omega! Reader, Alpha! Jody Mills, Dean. John was in a visibly bad mood as the for Singers Auto Salvage came into view. Sure, the car was fine for an old guy who manned the phone and rarely hunted himself these days, but John had gone from the Impala, to a powerful and massive pick up.

He winced at the sounds the old hunk of junk was making as he turned onto the lot. Rumsfeld was barking as John pulled in, the old dog making his way towards his owners car. John could just see the back of his truck around the side of the house, and hear the sounds of someone working on it. John looked to the door and found Bobby, beer in hand as the dog hurried off towards him. He looked back towards the truck, brow furrowed before heading to his friend. You got helpers now? You wanna beer while you wait, or what? Overall straps hanging down, light grey t-shirt stained from working on the truck.

John could see your pupils dilating as you looked him up and down.

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His own eyes then drawn to the heave of your chest as you breathed. John can shut the hell up now. That simple statement stopped Bobby in his tracks, his smile wiped clean off. He finally looked at the man he sat across the table from. Suddenly, a flash of pain hit, somewhere deep, like a long needle, there then gone again, but enough to make you wince. John was up from his seat in a flash, nose flared as he took in a deep breath.

Then you heard it, the shotgun Bobby kept strapped under the kitchen table. You will not ruin her. John growled, threateningly towards Bobby, his eyes glaring daggers at the older Alpha you called Uncle. Rumsfeld reacted instantly, hackles up and ready to protect his master. Another growl, and he reluctantly walked past you and left.

His arm brushing yours in passing shot electricity through every single nerve ending. Goosebumps prickled your skin and you whined. When you heard the truck starting up, you rushed to the door. John stopped right outside the door when you rushed out. I will not let you die because of him! Your eyes went back to John in his truck. He heard what Bobby said, there was no way he missed it. He tore his eyes away and headed for the arch that lined the road towards town. As his wheels rolled off the lot, you felt a pain, stronger than before, strong enough to have you doubled over in pain as you cried out.

Need to get you inside. This was no regular heat. You knew it, Bobby knew it. Three days in, he came in the room, nose and mouth covered as if that would stop the smell of you, scooped you up and hauled you down to the basement while you screamed at the feel of his touch on your skin. You screamed for him, screamed until your throat was raw and your voice no longer came.

Thrashed around until you no longer had energy to move. Covered in slick and feeling sicker by the day. Or what you assumed was a day. The person in brown crouched down to be at eye level with you. How damn long has she been down here with nothing!? I give her about. You were a dumb ass for not calling someone sooner.

Or your niece is dead. Bobby watched you sadly, worrying his lip between his teeth for a moment. The phone ringing for what felt like the millionth time made Dean look over at it. A moment later, the ringing stopped.

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Who called before? Dean reached for the phone next to his bed, and John slammed his fist on the table in warning. A warning Dean ignored and lifted it from the receiver. Jody said max 24 hours. Took me four to get up the nerve to even call ya. Everything was heavy. Just some ragged breathing and small whimpers from time to time when the pain spiked. There was no way you could survive this. Then you heard it, far away, but loud enough that it sent a spark shooting through your body. It was angry. John straightened up again, and started pulling off his clothes.

He wasted no time as he did, tossing things aside until he was completely naked. He cursed Bobby Singer with every curse he could think up in his head as he laid himself down with you on soiled sheets. He could feel the old sweat and slick dried to the sheets against his skin and it angered him all the more.

John smiled softly at the sound of your voice. As hoarse and broken as it sounded, he was glad to hear it. He could feel your fingers twitching against his stomach, saw your eyes fighting to open and once they finally did, it took a moment for them to focus on him. Every time he breathed in, he could smell the sickness. John looked up at your face again, and found you fighting to watch him. He kept his eyes locked with yours as he pushed in. He watched as your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth fell open with a breath. You just lay there under him, unmoving. His eyes shot up to the door again, teeth baring.

Letting out a growl, he pulled back and thrust in harder, your body jolting under him at the force. The thought of Bobby almost letting you die just to keep him away enraged him. But more than anything, he was mad at himself. Mad for leaving. Mad for not taking you with him, even if he had to steal you away in the middle of the night. He should have fucking come back. Mad at himself for not letting Bobby talk when he first called, and for ignoring him for hours after it.

He had a mate again and an Alpha sworn to protect her had almost killed her.

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Then he did the one thing he knew he needed to do to keep you alive. As the first spurts of come shot deep inside you, he bit into your shoulder, tying you to him as his mate. John woke up, taking a deep breath in as his eyes opened up to the large fan overhead slowly turning.

The smell was different, but only ever so slightly. He looked down at your face, your head on his right bicep, body moulded against his, and he was relieved to see colour starting to come back to your skin. As he watched you shift, he realized just how much younger than him you really were. You were better suited for Dean, maybe even Sam, but you were his. What the hell would he tell Dean? Getting hot again. With a growl, John rolled over you, knocking you both off the small cot and onto the hard floor of the panic room, neither of you caring as John lined up once more.

Writing Fanfiction, and more. If your work is used and you want it removed please message me. Your heaven, My hell. You were weak when you heard her voice.

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Did he ghost on me again? Put him on the damn phone. Whatever it takes. How the fuck was I suppose to know? And he was pissed for the universe cursing you with a true mate like him. How are you feeling? John chuckled, fingers moving over your mark.

First, you need a clean bed.

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