A/B/O Ladies: A State of Mind (Sam/Ruby NC17)
Wheee! Posting is also open at a_b_o_ladies, so here's some more of the fic I wrote when I could still write. And it's SPN, which I haven't written for ages, yay!
Author Brutti ma Buoni
Title A State of Mind
Rating NC17
Fandom Supernatural
Pairing Sam/Ruby
Setting briefly s3 but mostly the season break before s4 and thereafter
Words 4000
Warnings Lots of swearing… More importantly, Ruby's not used to being omega, and finds some of the helplessness it engenders problematic. If being constrained during/after sex is a squick, maybe steer clear.
Summary Ruby finds herself on a new Earth to the one she left all those centuries ago. Turns out, the humans have created some interesting new types among themselves. Getting beyond all that gender crap, and imposing a whole new bunch of crap on top. First out, it seems like fun to experiment with her meatsuit options. But eventually, she tries on an omega - which, with Sam being an alpha, might turn out to have been a mistake
Fucking humanity. This is Ruby’s non-prizewinning conclusion when she rises. Fucking humanity. You leave them alone to spend a few relaxing centuries in hell, falling under Lucifer’s dominion and with all the pain and torture you could please, and what does humanity do?
Has itself an apocalypse.
Not the regular kind, with the horsemen and the devil and the fiery pit and the good shivery feelings Ruby can never quite get enough of. No. A boring kind. A medical kind, if you like. Where men and women are no longer good enough for humanity. Nope, they get to have a whole bunch of new classifications. Alphas and omegas and the interaction with boring regular humans too means there are six genders to play with and Ruby’s only lived as one of them.
Which is, like, one hell of an opportunity. So Ruby’s first few weeks back, she explores what the hell it is to be alpha. And she likes. Why would anyone choose to be beta now?
Oh. Right. The humans don’t get to choose.
And the betas are still the majority. It really was kind of a shitty Apocalypse, creating subsets of rarity among the humans. The gender wars that followed were a little more in the best tradition of Apocalysm, but, eh. Mostly, the humans lived. Just, the new freaks didn’t have such a good time.
(Apparently, one is not supposed to call them freaks, but fuck it, Ruby’s only known about omegas a few months, and she knows what a freak looks like. Like that. So. Suck it, Omega Advancement. Which they probably will, drooling little freaks that they are.)
Okay. Ruby calms down a little after the first few weeks. She burns through a few bodies before deciding she really does like it best being a woman. An alpha woman. Even though taking it from an alpha in a beta body also feels pretty good, to someone who’s lived through hell and enjoyed it. But this particular alpha body’s more than okay. Slim and blonde and lithe and lethal, so she can find the vulnerabilities in patronising humans and then burn them, no trouble. Sometimes, she doesn’t even have to use the demon, the alpha’s so strong. And anyone who can smell Ruby knows she’s nothing to fuck with.
Shame the Winchester boys don’t pay attention. It’s kind of offensive, how they bracket Ruby with Bela Talbot, who’s a half-decent crim but a yawnsome beta and nothing more, even if her legs should be declared national treasures. Ruby’s none of those things.
Dean can’t smell it, sure, but Sam can. Watch those long, rangy alpha muscles tense and flex as he takes in the Ruby-ness of Ruby. Hello rival.
But Sam, who probably joined Omega Advancement in college, the sap, is one of those alphas that’s evolved so far he can’t even see the glory in alphadom. No wonder Azazel wanted to use them to bring back his good old days. Pick some alphas, have them on your team, and look out. See, humanity? The demons know how to choose the Elect.
Sam would have made a beautiful demon. But he’s just going to have to carry Lucifer instead. The Real Thing. Poor little Winchester boys don’t even know the design yet. But Ruby knows. Dean’s going to hell, and he’s going to break the first seal. And Sam will break the last, and Lucifer will rise, and all this alpha beta whatever crap won’t matter a bucket of warm piss in the new world.
Which, mostly, is how it goes down.
Yeah, okay, so Ruby spends a little more time in hell. But that’s okay. That’s useful. She catches the plan up, and is there for everything that leads to the first seal. Ruby watches as Dean gets eaten and Sam goes near crazy, and she sees what her next step is. But not in her old body. Which, dammit. She enjoyed that one.
God, Sam Winchester is picky when Ruby comes back. Even though she’s saving his life repeatedly, which is plain unfortunate. She can’t just grab a passing vessel. Has to be willing, or, you know, redundant. Alphas tend to go down hard and fighting, which leaves them a little too pulped for Ruby's purposes. Ruby tries three beta bodies that are just too dull to wear long term before she finds the pretty little dark girl. Shame she’s brain dead, really. Ruby could have relished her a while, if she’d been walking around and Ruby had still had her alpha equipment. But neither of those things is true.
So she just takes the girl. And it’s only then she realises the girl’s a freak. Man, they must have had her on some heavy-duty hospital-friendly suppressants for Ruby to miss that, which figures. Coma-heat - there's a term that sucks balls, if it's a thing. But so it is: Ruby got herself an omega body. It kind of sucks even this way, the first time she catches a waft of alpha (a really rank old guy with a John Deere baseball cap, and what the fuck, self?) and her cunt goes like jelly with want need now, but Ruby’s a demon and not a weakbrain human, so she can rise above that shit, and she learns to ignore, to plug her nose against the pheromones, and generally not turn into a fuck-basket for some random alpha. She learns, too, how to cut the exuding hormones enough that she doesn’t get too much hassle. Guys know the body’s O, but they read her as managed, suppressed, a no-fun omega goody-goody. Not worth the trouble when you can find so many street Os, begging for a knot any day, any hour.
So it’s cool. She likes the body. The way the nose crinkles. Also, the hair is very satisfactory. Ruby decides this is the body she’s taking to Sam.
He likes the body too. Perfect. She watches as his pupils dilate, even as he recognises Ruby’s demon and tries for disdain. But she has her story, and it’s enough to convince him not to gut her immediately. Besides, Sam Winchester just now doesn’t care a hell of a lot about anything. Except getting Dean back, sure, but he’s losing hope of that. She can see the light of fight leaching from him. And that’s not how Ruby wants him. She needs him building muscle, demon-wise, so that he can fight the fight against the breaking of the seals (hah), and be there for Lucifer in great shape.
She catches herself thinking about fucking Lucifer in this body, him in that body. And if she’s been wrung out wet a few times as an O, it’s nothing to how she feels the night she really, really dreams of it. Dreams of being fucked raw, knotted for days, writhing in need. It’s a hell of a step up from the right hand of the devil, is how she figures.
Or, you know, rationalises later once she’s come hard, over and over, and soaked her bedding. Because, turns out the Os have a little compensation for the humiliation and inconvenience of their gender. Coming like an express train five times in three hours? Almost worth it. Though Ruby either needs some toys, stat, or she needs to break down Sam’s apathy and get fucked.
Possibly both.
It’s after Ruby saves Sam yet again (o hai Lilith, we’re still buddies, right? Even though I offed another couple henchmen on your watch) that it happens.
Sam’s bloody and reeling, and she expects this to be another night he gentlemanly drops her at her own motel and moves on to crash alone. Which, Ruby’s itchy for a hell of a lot more than that, but she can deal if she must. But this time Sam inhales, catches, inhales again, and says, “Ruby?” It’s a weird tone. Solicitous, almost, and a little pissed, and very much not how Ruby expects Sam to be with her.
“What?” She’s not going to look concerned. Whatever Mr Oh-So-Serious thinks is an issue, it won’t be one once Ruby works it through. “You… you’re on suppressants, right?”
“Nope, no need,” is her answer. Short and honest, because she doesn’t know where this is going. She shifts in the car seat. She’s slicker than she should be, even with the blood. Fuck, if Sam’s picking that up-
“You’re going into heat,” he says, and it’s almost kind. “Can’t you tell?” Pause. Like he’s trying to think how to explain this nicely. Soft-ass bastard that he is. “Because I really can tell. And if I can, the alphas round here will be at you like-“
Dogs. Wolves. Crazed, kick-you-to-death-fuck-frenzied stallions. That’s what. Pick a macho crazed animal, and that’s what’s coming Ruby’s way. Any alpha that’s not suppressed, or a superhuman tightass like Sam, is gonna be on her tail.
And Ruby wants it. That’s the worst. She’s not a freak. She doesn’t bend over for anyone. But this body, which she was so sure she had under tight rein, it’s betraying her. Now that she listens to it, it’s begging. Hell, it’s commanding that Ruby get fucked now. By, for preference, this guy.
And is that so bad? It’s all a part of the plan, right? Seduction scenes were in the scripts, Ruby was just intending to choreograph them. But in so many ways, this is perfect. Because Sam’s seven sorts of shit at taking for himself, but a sucker for helping out a victim.
So she says, shakier than intended but that’s good, that works, “Oh, oh no. I didn’t-“ Pause. Let him bite back the offer, let him feel how it could come. And then nail him. “Shit, Sam, I can’t just go out there like this. I need- Could you help me out, maybe?”
Hook. Line. Sinker. He blinks those earnest eyes, thinks back to Omega Aware classes, Ruby’s 90% sure, and says. “Uh, I guess. If you really need a hand.”
I need more than a hand, you dumb fuck, she screams inside. But that’s okay. That part will come. She waits. “You want I should take you to my place?”
Yeah. Let’s do that. Sam Winchester in a demon lair is not a picture Ruby can honestly see working out too well. She’s careful, but he’s not an idiot, and he’s not the one with the unstoppable hormone surge soaking through him right now. Having him pay attention to Ruby’s home would be bad. She says none of this, just nods, and it comes out with a little side of whimper that’s humiliating and yet ideal for the part she’s playing.
It totally is a part.
Sam’s motel room is slightly less crappy than the ones he used to share with Dean, which tends to confirm Ruby’s assumption that the Family Winchester was a bunch of masochists and Sam’s not so badly off without them. She’s impressed that she can parse that thought, kind of, except for how she’s also aware of how closely she’s observing everything (anything) that could possibly distract her from the humming, buzzing, rising tone of her own flesh, that’s tugging at her attention.
“So,” says Sam, and he’s standing by the door, hands raised a little, arrested movement signalling uncertainty. “So… I should leave you here? I could lock you in. Stay outside and guard. If you want.”
He’s such a nice guy.
God. How is he not dead already? Can he really be the vessel, honestly? Or maybe that’s just something that Lucifer gets off on: corrupting the pure in heart. Yeah. That sounds likely. Ruby’s hearing him on two levels: the demon, still there, still in control, but not, like, immediately in control of every little thing. And also the omega, what the body might have thought if it still had a brain: it’s an alpha, he’ll take care of me. He’ll protect me. He’ll fuck me till I bleed.
Okay, that last part might have a little touch of the demon in it. There’s a part of Ruby that is genuinely curious about this omega thing. It’s bad/good enough alone. What the hell is it like to get knotted hard? Luckily, that’s, you know, the plan here. So.
Sam’s continuing, “We, uh, I, have some toys if you need.”
“Old girlfriend?” she says, before she remembers she’s not supposed to be snarking so much as seducing. Though, honestly, keeping Sam here talking while her hormones rise should do the trick as much as anything. He’s Omega Aware and all that shit, but he’s still alpha-human.
He doesn’t even blush, which is surprising. “See a lot of things on the road. Lot of people in need. Some old friends of ours.” Oh. Yeah. The Harvelles, that’s right. He must have gotten used to being around omegas there, and unless Ruby’s missing something (and Sam’s body language says no), he never did more than pass the time of day with those ladies. And possibly lend them some “toys”. (Seriously? Does he boil wash and cart them around? Is there a thing Ruby’s not picking up on here? Or is Sam actually the most responsible guy in the world? It’s a horrible possibility.)
“Sam,” she says, with an edge of desperation. “I’ve never done this before. Heat. Anything. I don’t think some hand me down dildoes are gonna cut it.” Pause. Let him take it in. Watch him not run. The pulse at his throat, the light gathering sweat in the stuffy room. Yeah, he’s into this. Potentially, at least. “I think I need an alpha. And you’re the only one I-“ can trust, she almost says, but Sam’s responsible, not a moron, and he’d get the sarcasm for sure “-have handy. How about it, hotshot?”
There’s another pause, in which Sam still doesn’t speak. God, did Ruby break his brain? Did he jizz his panties already at her sweet, sweet offer?
“Please?” And the renewed whimper in her voice is spontaneous and very real. Got to have, got to- She stares at him, long, lanky alpha bones clothed in increasingly solid alpha muscle. Leader of the pack, no mistake. The part of Ruby that isn’t Ruby is screaming that she’d follow him anywhere, do anything he wants, so long as he gets inside her.
“What do I get in return?” he asks. And, there it is. The part of Sam he keeps buried. The part that isn’t the nice and the responsible. That will say yes to Lucifer in the end. The part all of Ruby really, really gets.
“I had an idea,” she says, breathy and choppy, as her cunt hums a tune she can’t afford to dance to, not just yet. “For you. For getting stronger. Maybe even getting Dean back. I know how to pull a demon from its vessel. And I think you could do it. No traps, no exorcisms, no messing. Just you. Do this for me, and I’ll teach you.”
This was always the plan. She really doesn’t need something from Sam in return. But, eh, who’ll tell him that?
“Oh, and you can use the knife,” she adds. “It’s handy.” That it is. They have it already, honestly. It’s quietly become a Winchester thing somewhere along the line. But Sam knows it’s not really his, so she figures it won’t hurt to throw that bone in.
“And in return?”
“Fuck me till- this passes,” she says, with a hitch when she realises the till I bleed thing probably isn’t a turn on for Sam. Even if it would be exactly how she’s planning to build the boy up to demon-wrangling strength, it’ll need a little more lead time than this to get him accustomed.
He nods. “I guess I can do that. You clean? I don’t have condoms.” Of course he doesn’t. That would be too helpful. But Ruby doesn’t like the idea of getting knocked up with a little demon-human spawn, so she lets him run off to a drugstore while she lies back on the bed and tries not to go insane.
It’s not really working, by the time Sam returns, even though he’s been fast enough that apparently no other alphas are circling her door. She’s lying back on the bed, panties discarded, a couple towels under her because there’s no way this isn’t going to get messy, and she has half a hand shoved inside herself in a way that is not even slightly satisfying. It’s a good thing there’s no one behind Sam when he opens the door; though right now, the human parts of Ruby actually wouldn’t care.
The demon, surprisingly, cares a lot.
“Hey,” says Sam, and it’s sweet. The bastard. Being gentle is so not what Ruby needs. “That’s not the way.” Actually talking to her like she’s a skittish horse, she thinks, even though he is completely right about it not working.
“So I’m thinking,” he says, getting on the bed beside her, still all clothed and inaccessible, “I’m thinking you need to get knotted fast, and then we can talk, yeah? Because if this is your first, it’ll take forever to get you calmer without a knot. Is that okay?”
The only thing that’s not okay is that Sam’s narrating instead of doing, but, yeah, whatever. She nods, and moans as the slight movement sends screaming want through her nerves.
Sam stands up, and strips. All economical of movement, and not sexual in the slightest, though he’s already hard enough she has no worries on that score. Stripping like a man who’s used to sharing a room, the demon registers. He must miss that. He’s not a loner. There’s a pressure point there if she can use it.
He rolls on a condom, and crawls onto the bed. “Uh, I usually like to, take some time to-“ But Ruby doesn’t even have to express her views about his preference for lingering foreplay, because her spread thighs and open, dripping cunt do that part for her. He laughs, just a tiny bit, “But maybe not right now, yeah? Later.” He takes a moment to strip her in turn, mumbling something about more comfortable later, sure, whatever, and then he’s pressing her thighs back, doubled into her chest so he can slide in, and deep, and home.
This is what Ruby’s head has been saying she needed ever since this whole heat thing started, but it’s horrible how fast the momentary satisfaction flees. More, more, harder, bigger, now, and some of that comes out her mouth, but it’s okay, because Sam’s doing that. He keeps one thumb just by her clit, barely stimulating but enough that she’s not kept on the edge and can just come, and again, before he finally follows her, swelling up harder and so satisfyingly wide she stretches around him.
And yeah. That was the part she needed.
Her head clears, maybe not entirely, but enough that she can speak. Also, unfortunately, enough that she can think about the upcoming two-three hours stuck with this guy, who she kind of despises, and needs, and also almost likes, with the parts of Ruby on the surface, that aren’t all about the grand design.
“Okay,” she says, after a few minutes. “Can we move? My knees are gonna-”
“Uh, sorry,” says Sam, shaking his head like he was dozing, which: guy, so, likely. He lets her thighs go, sliding down so she’s really under him head to toe, which satisfies that omega voice but is inconvenient. But he must be used to that, a guy his size, so he rolls them over. “You’re in charge,” he says, muzzy and affectionate, which is again definitely post-coital reflex talking and not Winchester-to-demon interaction the way Ruby’s accustomed to.
“So, how does this go?” She’s pretty confident he’ll know. He’s too curious not to, let alone all the OA rights crap he’s ingested. “We didn’t have omegas when I was a human, so it’s pretty new, being in this body.”
Way to press the nerd’s buttons. That carries them through over an hour of knot time, with Sam drawing out the old gender roles and whatever Ruby knows about the Change Times (basically nothing but textbooks, she was in hell, but demons talk, you know?). And among that, they establish that heat last at least 24 hours, that Sam bought snacks and liquids along with condoms, and that they’ll probably need to fuck four or five times minimum to keep her from going insane, but Sam’s okay with that. (“Out of practice, but okay,” he says. Which, thinking it over, Ruby thinks he means it’s been a long time since he had an O girlfriend, rather than that he’s been living like a monk since Dean made his deal, though actually both those things appear to be true. And, really, isn’t Ruby doing him a favour with this? Even if she never meant it to go this way.)
When Ruby lets her thighs spread and knees come to the mattress, pressing herself up so she’s sitting on his dick, Sam’s eyes are appreciative. This is good. This is the plan. The sparks inside her suggest there’s more good to be had in this round. Insist, actually, more than suggest. Got to have more.
God, omega bodies are demanding little bitches. Ruby needs to get herself suppressed stat once this thing’s over. Meantime, however, Ruby’s going to get the most out of this stupidly willing body. Not long before she’s rocking hard, wet sounds as loud as Sam’s punched out breaths as she takes just what she needs.
“Sorry,” she says, afterward, and she’s not even sure why. It’s what an O needs; it’s what Sam was offering when she took it. Maybe it’s just strategy, but if it is, Ruby’s subconscious is doing a fine job there.
No. No, it’s not strategy, she realises. It’s fucking O hormones. She’s submitting to his will, right? That’s what omega bitches do.
That’s not how this goes.
She jerks upright, and there's Sam's dick inside her, and holding her still, and yeah, she's on top but she's still pinned. Fuck. It sends the same sparks through Ruby as before, and she could even come again, but right now she just wants out of here. Off this intrusive thing inside her. She fucking hates being powerless.
"Hey," Sam says, soothing. "Hey, it's okay. You'll be able to move in about ten minutes, give or take. Just breathe through it."
Free of his knot, yeah, but Ruby's still stinking with heat. They're stuck here for hours, call it days, and she's completely reliant on Sam Winchester for sanity and self-protection and that's not how Ruby rolls. Next chance she gets, she's fridging this omega corpse and getting herself a new body that doesn't inflict this crap on her. Because there's no way in hell Ruby can be subservient to this man.
At least, not until he's just a meatsuit for the greatest demon ever. Ruby's pretty okay with bowing the knee to Lucifer. She just hopes he's alpha enough to beat this.
There's just a tiny, tiny moment there when Ruby flickers. Because this… this is how things should be. Omega to alpha. Submitting to her mate. This is her mate.
Which is absolutely fucking ridiculous. Ruby needs to get clear of this bullshit asap.
*
And yet, she doesn't break the O habit, that week or any other. Dean Winchester rises, the seals start to crumble, and Ruby stays omega. She couldn't even tell you why - could be she likes how she can multiple multiple times these days. Could be she's submitted, omegaed out of the Apocalypse even if her conscious brain doesn't even admit it. Sam fucks her through eight more heats, louder and better and deeper and more what she needs every single time.
When the balloon goes up, and the Devil comes to town, guess what Ruby's still wearing? Maybe that's why she and Lucifer don't quite get the happy outcome they'd been expecting.
Fucking humanity. Look what they went and did.
*
Author Brutti ma Buoni
Title A State of Mind
Rating NC17
Fandom Supernatural
Pairing Sam/Ruby
Setting briefly s3 but mostly the season break before s4 and thereafter
Words 4000
Warnings Lots of swearing… More importantly, Ruby's not used to being omega, and finds some of the helplessness it engenders problematic. If being constrained during/after sex is a squick, maybe steer clear.
Summary Ruby finds herself on a new Earth to the one she left all those centuries ago. Turns out, the humans have created some interesting new types among themselves. Getting beyond all that gender crap, and imposing a whole new bunch of crap on top. First out, it seems like fun to experiment with her meatsuit options. But eventually, she tries on an omega - which, with Sam being an alpha, might turn out to have been a mistake
Fucking humanity. This is Ruby’s non-prizewinning conclusion when she rises. Fucking humanity. You leave them alone to spend a few relaxing centuries in hell, falling under Lucifer’s dominion and with all the pain and torture you could please, and what does humanity do?
Has itself an apocalypse.
Not the regular kind, with the horsemen and the devil and the fiery pit and the good shivery feelings Ruby can never quite get enough of. No. A boring kind. A medical kind, if you like. Where men and women are no longer good enough for humanity. Nope, they get to have a whole bunch of new classifications. Alphas and omegas and the interaction with boring regular humans too means there are six genders to play with and Ruby’s only lived as one of them.
Which is, like, one hell of an opportunity. So Ruby’s first few weeks back, she explores what the hell it is to be alpha. And she likes. Why would anyone choose to be beta now?
Oh. Right. The humans don’t get to choose.
And the betas are still the majority. It really was kind of a shitty Apocalypse, creating subsets of rarity among the humans. The gender wars that followed were a little more in the best tradition of Apocalysm, but, eh. Mostly, the humans lived. Just, the new freaks didn’t have such a good time.
(Apparently, one is not supposed to call them freaks, but fuck it, Ruby’s only known about omegas a few months, and she knows what a freak looks like. Like that. So. Suck it, Omega Advancement. Which they probably will, drooling little freaks that they are.)
Okay. Ruby calms down a little after the first few weeks. She burns through a few bodies before deciding she really does like it best being a woman. An alpha woman. Even though taking it from an alpha in a beta body also feels pretty good, to someone who’s lived through hell and enjoyed it. But this particular alpha body’s more than okay. Slim and blonde and lithe and lethal, so she can find the vulnerabilities in patronising humans and then burn them, no trouble. Sometimes, she doesn’t even have to use the demon, the alpha’s so strong. And anyone who can smell Ruby knows she’s nothing to fuck with.
Shame the Winchester boys don’t pay attention. It’s kind of offensive, how they bracket Ruby with Bela Talbot, who’s a half-decent crim but a yawnsome beta and nothing more, even if her legs should be declared national treasures. Ruby’s none of those things.
Dean can’t smell it, sure, but Sam can. Watch those long, rangy alpha muscles tense and flex as he takes in the Ruby-ness of Ruby. Hello rival.
But Sam, who probably joined Omega Advancement in college, the sap, is one of those alphas that’s evolved so far he can’t even see the glory in alphadom. No wonder Azazel wanted to use them to bring back his good old days. Pick some alphas, have them on your team, and look out. See, humanity? The demons know how to choose the Elect.
Sam would have made a beautiful demon. But he’s just going to have to carry Lucifer instead. The Real Thing. Poor little Winchester boys don’t even know the design yet. But Ruby knows. Dean’s going to hell, and he’s going to break the first seal. And Sam will break the last, and Lucifer will rise, and all this alpha beta whatever crap won’t matter a bucket of warm piss in the new world.
Which, mostly, is how it goes down.
Yeah, okay, so Ruby spends a little more time in hell. But that’s okay. That’s useful. She catches the plan up, and is there for everything that leads to the first seal. Ruby watches as Dean gets eaten and Sam goes near crazy, and she sees what her next step is. But not in her old body. Which, dammit. She enjoyed that one.
God, Sam Winchester is picky when Ruby comes back. Even though she’s saving his life repeatedly, which is plain unfortunate. She can’t just grab a passing vessel. Has to be willing, or, you know, redundant. Alphas tend to go down hard and fighting, which leaves them a little too pulped for Ruby's purposes. Ruby tries three beta bodies that are just too dull to wear long term before she finds the pretty little dark girl. Shame she’s brain dead, really. Ruby could have relished her a while, if she’d been walking around and Ruby had still had her alpha equipment. But neither of those things is true.
So she just takes the girl. And it’s only then she realises the girl’s a freak. Man, they must have had her on some heavy-duty hospital-friendly suppressants for Ruby to miss that, which figures. Coma-heat - there's a term that sucks balls, if it's a thing. But so it is: Ruby got herself an omega body. It kind of sucks even this way, the first time she catches a waft of alpha (a really rank old guy with a John Deere baseball cap, and what the fuck, self?) and her cunt goes like jelly with want need now, but Ruby’s a demon and not a weakbrain human, so she can rise above that shit, and she learns to ignore, to plug her nose against the pheromones, and generally not turn into a fuck-basket for some random alpha. She learns, too, how to cut the exuding hormones enough that she doesn’t get too much hassle. Guys know the body’s O, but they read her as managed, suppressed, a no-fun omega goody-goody. Not worth the trouble when you can find so many street Os, begging for a knot any day, any hour.
So it’s cool. She likes the body. The way the nose crinkles. Also, the hair is very satisfactory. Ruby decides this is the body she’s taking to Sam.
He likes the body too. Perfect. She watches as his pupils dilate, even as he recognises Ruby’s demon and tries for disdain. But she has her story, and it’s enough to convince him not to gut her immediately. Besides, Sam Winchester just now doesn’t care a hell of a lot about anything. Except getting Dean back, sure, but he’s losing hope of that. She can see the light of fight leaching from him. And that’s not how Ruby wants him. She needs him building muscle, demon-wise, so that he can fight the fight against the breaking of the seals (hah), and be there for Lucifer in great shape.
She catches herself thinking about fucking Lucifer in this body, him in that body. And if she’s been wrung out wet a few times as an O, it’s nothing to how she feels the night she really, really dreams of it. Dreams of being fucked raw, knotted for days, writhing in need. It’s a hell of a step up from the right hand of the devil, is how she figures.
Or, you know, rationalises later once she’s come hard, over and over, and soaked her bedding. Because, turns out the Os have a little compensation for the humiliation and inconvenience of their gender. Coming like an express train five times in three hours? Almost worth it. Though Ruby either needs some toys, stat, or she needs to break down Sam’s apathy and get fucked.
Possibly both.
It’s after Ruby saves Sam yet again (o hai Lilith, we’re still buddies, right? Even though I offed another couple henchmen on your watch) that it happens.
Sam’s bloody and reeling, and she expects this to be another night he gentlemanly drops her at her own motel and moves on to crash alone. Which, Ruby’s itchy for a hell of a lot more than that, but she can deal if she must. But this time Sam inhales, catches, inhales again, and says, “Ruby?” It’s a weird tone. Solicitous, almost, and a little pissed, and very much not how Ruby expects Sam to be with her.
“What?” She’s not going to look concerned. Whatever Mr Oh-So-Serious thinks is an issue, it won’t be one once Ruby works it through. “You… you’re on suppressants, right?”
“Nope, no need,” is her answer. Short and honest, because she doesn’t know where this is going. She shifts in the car seat. She’s slicker than she should be, even with the blood. Fuck, if Sam’s picking that up-
“You’re going into heat,” he says, and it’s almost kind. “Can’t you tell?” Pause. Like he’s trying to think how to explain this nicely. Soft-ass bastard that he is. “Because I really can tell. And if I can, the alphas round here will be at you like-“
Dogs. Wolves. Crazed, kick-you-to-death-fuck-frenzied stallions. That’s what. Pick a macho crazed animal, and that’s what’s coming Ruby’s way. Any alpha that’s not suppressed, or a superhuman tightass like Sam, is gonna be on her tail.
And Ruby wants it. That’s the worst. She’s not a freak. She doesn’t bend over for anyone. But this body, which she was so sure she had under tight rein, it’s betraying her. Now that she listens to it, it’s begging. Hell, it’s commanding that Ruby get fucked now. By, for preference, this guy.
And is that so bad? It’s all a part of the plan, right? Seduction scenes were in the scripts, Ruby was just intending to choreograph them. But in so many ways, this is perfect. Because Sam’s seven sorts of shit at taking for himself, but a sucker for helping out a victim.
So she says, shakier than intended but that’s good, that works, “Oh, oh no. I didn’t-“ Pause. Let him bite back the offer, let him feel how it could come. And then nail him. “Shit, Sam, I can’t just go out there like this. I need- Could you help me out, maybe?”
Hook. Line. Sinker. He blinks those earnest eyes, thinks back to Omega Aware classes, Ruby’s 90% sure, and says. “Uh, I guess. If you really need a hand.”
I need more than a hand, you dumb fuck, she screams inside. But that’s okay. That part will come. She waits. “You want I should take you to my place?”
Yeah. Let’s do that. Sam Winchester in a demon lair is not a picture Ruby can honestly see working out too well. She’s careful, but he’s not an idiot, and he’s not the one with the unstoppable hormone surge soaking through him right now. Having him pay attention to Ruby’s home would be bad. She says none of this, just nods, and it comes out with a little side of whimper that’s humiliating and yet ideal for the part she’s playing.
It totally is a part.
Sam’s motel room is slightly less crappy than the ones he used to share with Dean, which tends to confirm Ruby’s assumption that the Family Winchester was a bunch of masochists and Sam’s not so badly off without them. She’s impressed that she can parse that thought, kind of, except for how she’s also aware of how closely she’s observing everything (anything) that could possibly distract her from the humming, buzzing, rising tone of her own flesh, that’s tugging at her attention.
“So,” says Sam, and he’s standing by the door, hands raised a little, arrested movement signalling uncertainty. “So… I should leave you here? I could lock you in. Stay outside and guard. If you want.”
He’s such a nice guy.
God. How is he not dead already? Can he really be the vessel, honestly? Or maybe that’s just something that Lucifer gets off on: corrupting the pure in heart. Yeah. That sounds likely. Ruby’s hearing him on two levels: the demon, still there, still in control, but not, like, immediately in control of every little thing. And also the omega, what the body might have thought if it still had a brain: it’s an alpha, he’ll take care of me. He’ll protect me. He’ll fuck me till I bleed.
Okay, that last part might have a little touch of the demon in it. There’s a part of Ruby that is genuinely curious about this omega thing. It’s bad/good enough alone. What the hell is it like to get knotted hard? Luckily, that’s, you know, the plan here. So.
Sam’s continuing, “We, uh, I, have some toys if you need.”
“Old girlfriend?” she says, before she remembers she’s not supposed to be snarking so much as seducing. Though, honestly, keeping Sam here talking while her hormones rise should do the trick as much as anything. He’s Omega Aware and all that shit, but he’s still alpha-human.
He doesn’t even blush, which is surprising. “See a lot of things on the road. Lot of people in need. Some old friends of ours.” Oh. Yeah. The Harvelles, that’s right. He must have gotten used to being around omegas there, and unless Ruby’s missing something (and Sam’s body language says no), he never did more than pass the time of day with those ladies. And possibly lend them some “toys”. (Seriously? Does he boil wash and cart them around? Is there a thing Ruby’s not picking up on here? Or is Sam actually the most responsible guy in the world? It’s a horrible possibility.)
“Sam,” she says, with an edge of desperation. “I’ve never done this before. Heat. Anything. I don’t think some hand me down dildoes are gonna cut it.” Pause. Let him take it in. Watch him not run. The pulse at his throat, the light gathering sweat in the stuffy room. Yeah, he’s into this. Potentially, at least. “I think I need an alpha. And you’re the only one I-“ can trust, she almost says, but Sam’s responsible, not a moron, and he’d get the sarcasm for sure “-have handy. How about it, hotshot?”
There’s another pause, in which Sam still doesn’t speak. God, did Ruby break his brain? Did he jizz his panties already at her sweet, sweet offer?
“Please?” And the renewed whimper in her voice is spontaneous and very real. Got to have, got to- She stares at him, long, lanky alpha bones clothed in increasingly solid alpha muscle. Leader of the pack, no mistake. The part of Ruby that isn’t Ruby is screaming that she’d follow him anywhere, do anything he wants, so long as he gets inside her.
“What do I get in return?” he asks. And, there it is. The part of Sam he keeps buried. The part that isn’t the nice and the responsible. That will say yes to Lucifer in the end. The part all of Ruby really, really gets.
“I had an idea,” she says, breathy and choppy, as her cunt hums a tune she can’t afford to dance to, not just yet. “For you. For getting stronger. Maybe even getting Dean back. I know how to pull a demon from its vessel. And I think you could do it. No traps, no exorcisms, no messing. Just you. Do this for me, and I’ll teach you.”
This was always the plan. She really doesn’t need something from Sam in return. But, eh, who’ll tell him that?
“Oh, and you can use the knife,” she adds. “It’s handy.” That it is. They have it already, honestly. It’s quietly become a Winchester thing somewhere along the line. But Sam knows it’s not really his, so she figures it won’t hurt to throw that bone in.
“And in return?”
“Fuck me till- this passes,” she says, with a hitch when she realises the till I bleed thing probably isn’t a turn on for Sam. Even if it would be exactly how she’s planning to build the boy up to demon-wrangling strength, it’ll need a little more lead time than this to get him accustomed.
He nods. “I guess I can do that. You clean? I don’t have condoms.” Of course he doesn’t. That would be too helpful. But Ruby doesn’t like the idea of getting knocked up with a little demon-human spawn, so she lets him run off to a drugstore while she lies back on the bed and tries not to go insane.
It’s not really working, by the time Sam returns, even though he’s been fast enough that apparently no other alphas are circling her door. She’s lying back on the bed, panties discarded, a couple towels under her because there’s no way this isn’t going to get messy, and she has half a hand shoved inside herself in a way that is not even slightly satisfying. It’s a good thing there’s no one behind Sam when he opens the door; though right now, the human parts of Ruby actually wouldn’t care.
The demon, surprisingly, cares a lot.
“Hey,” says Sam, and it’s sweet. The bastard. Being gentle is so not what Ruby needs. “That’s not the way.” Actually talking to her like she’s a skittish horse, she thinks, even though he is completely right about it not working.
“So I’m thinking,” he says, getting on the bed beside her, still all clothed and inaccessible, “I’m thinking you need to get knotted fast, and then we can talk, yeah? Because if this is your first, it’ll take forever to get you calmer without a knot. Is that okay?”
The only thing that’s not okay is that Sam’s narrating instead of doing, but, yeah, whatever. She nods, and moans as the slight movement sends screaming want through her nerves.
Sam stands up, and strips. All economical of movement, and not sexual in the slightest, though he’s already hard enough she has no worries on that score. Stripping like a man who’s used to sharing a room, the demon registers. He must miss that. He’s not a loner. There’s a pressure point there if she can use it.
He rolls on a condom, and crawls onto the bed. “Uh, I usually like to, take some time to-“ But Ruby doesn’t even have to express her views about his preference for lingering foreplay, because her spread thighs and open, dripping cunt do that part for her. He laughs, just a tiny bit, “But maybe not right now, yeah? Later.” He takes a moment to strip her in turn, mumbling something about more comfortable later, sure, whatever, and then he’s pressing her thighs back, doubled into her chest so he can slide in, and deep, and home.
This is what Ruby’s head has been saying she needed ever since this whole heat thing started, but it’s horrible how fast the momentary satisfaction flees. More, more, harder, bigger, now, and some of that comes out her mouth, but it’s okay, because Sam’s doing that. He keeps one thumb just by her clit, barely stimulating but enough that she’s not kept on the edge and can just come, and again, before he finally follows her, swelling up harder and so satisfyingly wide she stretches around him.
And yeah. That was the part she needed.
Her head clears, maybe not entirely, but enough that she can speak. Also, unfortunately, enough that she can think about the upcoming two-three hours stuck with this guy, who she kind of despises, and needs, and also almost likes, with the parts of Ruby on the surface, that aren’t all about the grand design.
“Okay,” she says, after a few minutes. “Can we move? My knees are gonna-”
“Uh, sorry,” says Sam, shaking his head like he was dozing, which: guy, so, likely. He lets her thighs go, sliding down so she’s really under him head to toe, which satisfies that omega voice but is inconvenient. But he must be used to that, a guy his size, so he rolls them over. “You’re in charge,” he says, muzzy and affectionate, which is again definitely post-coital reflex talking and not Winchester-to-demon interaction the way Ruby’s accustomed to.
“So, how does this go?” She’s pretty confident he’ll know. He’s too curious not to, let alone all the OA rights crap he’s ingested. “We didn’t have omegas when I was a human, so it’s pretty new, being in this body.”
Way to press the nerd’s buttons. That carries them through over an hour of knot time, with Sam drawing out the old gender roles and whatever Ruby knows about the Change Times (basically nothing but textbooks, she was in hell, but demons talk, you know?). And among that, they establish that heat last at least 24 hours, that Sam bought snacks and liquids along with condoms, and that they’ll probably need to fuck four or five times minimum to keep her from going insane, but Sam’s okay with that. (“Out of practice, but okay,” he says. Which, thinking it over, Ruby thinks he means it’s been a long time since he had an O girlfriend, rather than that he’s been living like a monk since Dean made his deal, though actually both those things appear to be true. And, really, isn’t Ruby doing him a favour with this? Even if she never meant it to go this way.)
When Ruby lets her thighs spread and knees come to the mattress, pressing herself up so she’s sitting on his dick, Sam’s eyes are appreciative. This is good. This is the plan. The sparks inside her suggest there’s more good to be had in this round. Insist, actually, more than suggest. Got to have more.
God, omega bodies are demanding little bitches. Ruby needs to get herself suppressed stat once this thing’s over. Meantime, however, Ruby’s going to get the most out of this stupidly willing body. Not long before she’s rocking hard, wet sounds as loud as Sam’s punched out breaths as she takes just what she needs.
“Sorry,” she says, afterward, and she’s not even sure why. It’s what an O needs; it’s what Sam was offering when she took it. Maybe it’s just strategy, but if it is, Ruby’s subconscious is doing a fine job there.
No. No, it’s not strategy, she realises. It’s fucking O hormones. She’s submitting to his will, right? That’s what omega bitches do.
That’s not how this goes.
She jerks upright, and there's Sam's dick inside her, and holding her still, and yeah, she's on top but she's still pinned. Fuck. It sends the same sparks through Ruby as before, and she could even come again, but right now she just wants out of here. Off this intrusive thing inside her. She fucking hates being powerless.
"Hey," Sam says, soothing. "Hey, it's okay. You'll be able to move in about ten minutes, give or take. Just breathe through it."
Free of his knot, yeah, but Ruby's still stinking with heat. They're stuck here for hours, call it days, and she's completely reliant on Sam Winchester for sanity and self-protection and that's not how Ruby rolls. Next chance she gets, she's fridging this omega corpse and getting herself a new body that doesn't inflict this crap on her. Because there's no way in hell Ruby can be subservient to this man.
At least, not until he's just a meatsuit for the greatest demon ever. Ruby's pretty okay with bowing the knee to Lucifer. She just hopes he's alpha enough to beat this.
There's just a tiny, tiny moment there when Ruby flickers. Because this… this is how things should be. Omega to alpha. Submitting to her mate. This is her mate.
Which is absolutely fucking ridiculous. Ruby needs to get clear of this bullshit asap.
*
And yet, she doesn't break the O habit, that week or any other. Dean Winchester rises, the seals start to crumble, and Ruby stays omega. She couldn't even tell you why - could be she likes how she can multiple multiple times these days. Could be she's submitted, omegaed out of the Apocalypse even if her conscious brain doesn't even admit it. Sam fucks her through eight more heats, louder and better and deeper and more what she needs every single time.
When the balloon goes up, and the Devil comes to town, guess what Ruby's still wearing? Maybe that's why she and Lucifer don't quite get the happy outcome they'd been expecting.
Fucking humanity. Look what they went and did.
*