Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10543616.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester, Benny_Lafitte/Dean_Winchester, Crowley/Dean
      Winchester, Dean_Winchester/John_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, John_Winchester, Mary_Winchester,
      Castiel, Benny_Lafitte, Crowley_(Supernatural)
  Additional Tags:
      Destiel_-_Freeform, One_Shot, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Alpha/Beta/Omega
      Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alpha_John_Winchester, Alpha_Crowley_
      (Supernatural), Alpha_Benny_Lafitte, Alpha_Castiel_(Supernatural), Alpha
      Castiel/Omega_Dean_Winchester, Omega_Dean, Castiel/Dean_Winchester_One
      Shot, Dean's_a_whore, John's_a_pimp, Abusive_John_Winchester, Child
      Abuse, Sexual_Abuse, Prostitution, Implied/Referenced_Underage_Sex,
      Choking, Cockwarming, Biting, Claiming, Mating_Bites, Mating, Soulmates,
      Love, Love_at_First_Sight, Love_Confessions, Making_Love, Kissing, Boys
      Kissing, Anal_Sex, Rimming, Oral_Sex, Blow_Jobs, Knotting, Come_Eating,
      Scent_Kink, Dirty_Talk, Happy_Ending, Implied_Mpreg
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-04 Words: 3986
****** Mr. Blue Eyes ******
by ds9trekkie
Summary
     Night time means showtime. Dean's a whore. His father's whore in
     fact. Not all prisons are decorated with locks and bars, some of them
     come draped in satin sheets and biologically induced fear.
Notes
     Definitely the darkest fic I've ever written, be sure to read the
     tags!!!! No non-con between Dean and Cas. Dean is around eighteen
     years old in the story. Also, I'm new to the alpha/omega verse, so
     any constructive criticism is of course welcome! Enjoy :)
     P.S. This fic was almost titled "Someday My Prince Will Come (Inside
     Me)" lmfao my bff and I thought we were clever and hilarious. We were
     drunk. Lol
Night time means showtime. Dean's a whore. His father's whore in fact. Not all
prisons are decorated with locks and bars, some of them come draped in satin
sheets and biologically induced fear. The low growl of his father's alpha voice
compels Dean to stay, to obey, to serve.
It's something Dean's learned to cope with, years of abuse tend to do that to a
person. It's either deal with the life he's been given or go insane. And
insanity isn't an option in Dean's mind, he needs to hold onto whatever shred
hope he has left.
Sammy needs him.
John sent Sam away a few years back, barking about his younger son being an
inconvenience. Of course, he told Sam something different, a bullshit story
about the benefits of boarding school. Dean feels sick without his little
brother. Sam is his everything. His absence is terrifying. Dean's all alone
with these monsters.
John and Dean live and operate out of the house he grew up in. The memories of
his beautiful mother and the fun they used to have fade a little more each day.
She died shortly after Sam's eighth birthday, leaving the two boys alone with
John and his bitterness. The stress of losing Mary may have been the initial
catalyst for Dean presenting as an omega so early. Showing all the signs, John
lost his mind. His brain diseased with with grief, John took Dean that very
night, fucking his twelve year old son through the tears and shrieks for help.
His once caring father succumbed to the evil within and began this whole
downward spiral towards the unforgivable.
Dean's nostalgic fondness for this place has warped into something ugly,
twisted. He hates being here now. The family photos have been ripped from the
wall, replaced with dart boards and lewd artwork. The fridge is stocked with
alcohol and leftover takeout, long gone are the yummy snacks and home cooked
meals. Worst of all has to be the stench of sex and cigarettes imbedded in the
carpets and upholstery, not a trace of his mother's loving scent remains.
Dean's nights are long, but his days feel longer. During the day is when Dean
and John sleep, there's no money to be made during the day. Every day at dawn
is the same, Dean is expected to shower and join his father in the master
bedroom.
The long, hot shower is the best part for Dean, scrubbing himself clean of all
the men who soiled him. Sure, he cleans himself in between clients, but this
shower isn't part of business. With this shower, he can take his time,
decompress his muscles while soaking in a bath if he wishes. Dean likes the
bubbles. He imagines the dirt, sweat, and come physically falling away from his
body, that maybe this will be the last time, that maybe tomorrow something will
change. Denial helps.
It seems Dean is taking too long tonight, because he hears the stern call of
his father, "Where's my bitch?"
Dean doesn't even flinch at the name anymore, he simply hurries up and throws
on his robe. Dean loves this robe. It's so soft and fluffy and only worn when
he's clean. It's the only remaining clothing he owns, there no need for
anything else. He doesn't leave the house and his body isn't his anymore. It
belongs to John, and John likes it naked. The emerald green robe is a treat,
one that Dean clings to.
When Dean enters the room, John is sitting up with his back against the head
board. He's naked and fondling his mostly soft cock.
"There you are. I don't like to be kept waiting, Dean..." his voice is
lighthearted. John's not angry tonight. He's not even drunk. Dean secretly
wishes he was either, that way he could blame his father's sick urges on
something other than pure want and desire. Sober John is dangerous, it's never
quick, it's never easy.
"Gonna watch Scarface tonight! C'mere, baby, get comfortable." There's a glint
in John's eye that makes Dean's skin crawl.
How could Sam and Dean have come from this man? How could Mary have loved him?
Dean feels good inside, even now, with this life. Then again, maybe John felt
good at one point too, maybe this is Dean's future. Maybe the good inside him
is actually just a mask and one day it'll crumble away. What if Dean ends up
just like John and hurts Sammy?
No.
Dean cuts off these horrifying thoughts as he makes his approach over to the
bed. Because he and John both know 'get comfortable' is just code for
cockwarming.
Settling in, Dean lays on his tummy and takes his father's flaccid dick into
his mouth. He's allowed to keep the robe on for this part. Dean doesn't even
care that this is the fourth time this week they're watching Scarface. He
transports his brain somewhere else. Closing his eyes, he pretends the cock in
his mouth isn't John's, he pretends it's his true mates. An imaginary man, that
if he concentrates hard enough, Dean can almost visualize. He's tall and toned
and has eyes a shade of blue deeper and truer than the ocean.
Dean hates to admit it, but he likes the feeling of cock in his mouth. It's
numbing and calming in a way that no other activity provides. After more than
half the movie, John begins to harden, yet Dean doesn't move a muscle.
John peeks down at him, his hand momentarily cupping the side of Dean's face.
"You can suck now."
Dean doesn't hesitate. The better he performs, the faster this is over and he
can go to sleep.
Sucking cock is like second nature to Dean, his expert lips trained with years
of experience. Dean bobs his head enthusiastically, enjoying the feeling John's
cock growing thicker and stretching his lips wider. "Fucking whore," John
breathes, hand landing on the back of Dean's head. He sets a new pace, one that
chokes Dean slightly. John likes when he gags.
Before Dean can even blink, John pulls Dean off, strips him of the robe and
shoves his face into the mattress. "Ass up."
Dean can't help but groan, the power and strength of an alpha taking what he
wants always feels nice. Maybe he really is a whore.
Dean's hole is wet and ready, a little excess slick dripping out of him before
John plunges inside. It's all mindless rutting and routine dirty talk from
there. Dean's little cock doesn't even get hard anymore.
He can feel John's knot swelling, filling him up completely as he fucks him
harder. John's never claimed him, leaving Dean's neck flawless and virgin. He
frequently reminds Dean that whores like him don't get claimed, they don't get
soulmates. However, words don't sting as bad as they used to. Dean simply
ignores everything his father spews at him and reverts back to fantasizing
about Mr. Blue Eyes.
John comes with a growl, his knot pulsing wave after wave of hot come into
Dean's throbbing ass. With not much fanfare, John rolls them onto their sides
and spoons his body around Dean, his cock still buried inside. There's no 'good
night', just silence and then snoring. As the sun comes up, Dean finally shuts
his eyes. His last thoughts are always dedicated to Sam, hoping he's safe.
~
Time weighs heavy for Dean, like cement, it's slow and he feels stuck. Seven in
the evening is usually when he wakes up, slipping out of his father's clutches
to make them breakfast. Eggs and toast. Except today there aren't any eggs
left.
So just toast.
Breakfast is a quiet affair, there's really nothing to talk about. Eventually,
John will tell him the plan for the night. Dean's hoping for an easy lineup,
just a couple of blow jobs and a few quick fucks. He's not in the mood for one
of the regulars to book him in private for the whole goddamn night.
Dean eats the toast slow, savoring every bite. He's so hungry all the time,
what he wouldn't do for a fresh cheeseburger. Not reheated or from a fast food
chain. A fresh, juicy, bloody bacon cheeseburger, like they used to make on the
barbecue. His stomach grumbles loudly at the thought.
"Got your work cut out for you tonight," John begins, skipping coffee and going
straight to beer. "Private room."
Dean sips his coffee and rolls his eyes, silently cursing the universe. It's
either Benny or Crowley, the only two men that can afford that kind of
treatment.
He prays that it's Benny, a down on his luck sailor with the wrong color blue
speckled in his eyes. He's the only man that kisses Dean. It's not real though,
the desperate press of Benny's lips aren't for Dean, they're for the ghost of
his dead mate. Benny lost his wife, leaving him on his own to raise their three
kids. He drowns himself in Dean, pretending he's back with Andrea and they're
making love. Dean's heart shrivels a little more each time they fuck. He can't
block out the loneliness and sadness behind Benny's hoarse voice, especially
when he's whimpering her name against Dean's lips when he comes.
As emotionally draining as dealing with Benny is, it's a cake walk compared to
Mr. Crowley. Dean nearly always throws up afterwards. And vomiting up the
precious amount of food he's given is not smart. Crowley ruins Dean, his hole
left gaping and torn. Sometimes Crowley will beat the shit out of him before
they even start. Predictable and savage, Crowley doesn't come until Dean's
close to unconsciousness. He wraps his meaty paws tightly around Dean's throat,
cutting off his air supply in a way that's definitely not safe. When Dean
initially brings this up to his father, he's brutally informed that Crowley
pays extra for that. Dean needs at least a day to recover after enduring that
demon, which is why it costs extra he supposes.
Benny may tear at his heart strings, but Crowley sucks the life right out of
his soul.
"Benny or Crowley?" Dean asks miserably.
"Neither, found a new guy. Fucking loaded...so I need you to make him wanna
come back, understand?" John says and Dean hears the unspoken threat loud and
clear.
"Yes, sir," Dean mumbles, cleaning up the plates.
Dean is relieved it's not Crowley, but sometimes the devil you know is better
than the one you don't. Things can always get worse, life has certainly taught
him that.
No more conversation is necessary, Dean knows what to do. He's never
disappointed a single client yet.
Two hours later, Dean's squeaky clean and sprawled out naked on his bed. He
needs to get himself in the mood, nobody likes a dry omega. Hooking two fingers
inside his ass, Dean massages that special spot with precision. His thoughts
drift towards blue eyes and dark hair, forever drawn to a man that doesn't
exist. Dean dreams about what his alpha mate would smell like, about what it
would be like to have somebody else crave his scent, about what it would feel
like to be in love. He starts playing with his tiny cock, trying to convince it
to harden. His fantasy is enough to cause a gush of slick to flood his hole,
his cock perking up as well.
There's a knock on the door, but the stranger doesn't wait. Upon entering, the
person brings in with them the most heavenly fragrance Dean has ever smelled.
It not only fills his nose, but burrows its way into his blood.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean should stop touching himself and look up at the man, but he literally
can't stop himself. Lust and instinct enable Dean to keep going, all logical
thought slowly eroding away. Not to mention addition of this guy's voice, rough
and underused, it has Dean leaking everywhere.
Seconds later, or has it been minutes? Regardless, the enticing mystery alpha
makes his way over to the bed, apparently not offended by Dean's welcoming
behavior. The only reason Dean knows the man is closer to him is because the
lack of proximity makes that fucking scent even stronger. Dean's eyes remain
firmly closed, he's way too afraid to open them, this is easier, safer.
A pair of hands with the strength to stop the Earth from spinning grab Dean's
legs, pulling them apart as far as they'll go. Dean's fingers are forcibly
removed, fully exposing the soft pink flesh of his pretty hole.
Dean feels the man's lips kiss and nip at his inner thigh, the spot of contact
spreading an intense warmth throughout his entire body. Searing hot, the man's
tongue swoops out of his mouth, licking up the slick on Dean's leg that's been
generously dripping out of him.
Already moaning, Dean feels like he could at come at any second. He's never
been this turned on before and he doesn't even know what this person looks
like.
"Don't stop touching your cock." It's an order Dean would rather die than
disobey. From the instant the man stepped into the room, Dean could feel the
immense amount of control he exudes, stronger than any other alpha he's met.
Like a good omega, Dean listens to him without question, continuing to rub and
stroke his uncharacteristically hard prick. He distracts his free hand by
curling it around the bed sheet. He doesn't want to touch the alpha without
permission.
Dean's moans and whimpers get inevitably louder when the man, without warning,
begins eating him out. Every swipe and lick of his tongue is perfectly
calculated for Dean's pleasure, he's so hungry for it.
The alpha groans into his entrance, sucking and lapping at anything he can get
his mouth on. "Dean, you're fucking delicious...so sweet, so perfect for me..."
The praise is foreign, but it feels amazing.
Wet is an understatement, Dean knows the bed beneath him is getting soaked.
"Oh, fuck, Alpha, fuck!" Dean babbles, his hole greedy for more.
"Can you come on my tongue, Dean?" The man asks, diving deeper until his tongue
disappears completely.
"Y-yes," Dean practically sings.
Releasing the death grip on one of Dean's thighs, the alpha nestles his hand
into Dean's own, the one that's been violently ripping at the sheets. Dean
doesn't understand what the fuck is happening, because holding hands has never
made him come before. Euphoria takes him over, the world feels pure.
Dean's in love with this man.
Dean's cock spurts triumphantly, painting his hand and lower abdomen white. The
man growls when he feels Dean's walls contract around his tongue. Drinking up
the juices from Dean's orgasm, the alpha seems content to taste him for
eternity.
Only the promise of more has the man pulling away from the sweetness of Dean's
pussy. That skilled tongue cleaning up the glorious mess of Dean's come as he
crawls up his body.
Eyesight still shrouded in darkness, Dean's other senses feel more alive. He
mewls weakly when he feels one of the man's hands comb lovingly through his
hair, the other hand still locked in Dean's own. He shudders from the heat
radiating off the alpha's cock, mere inches away from his hole. The sloppy,
open mouthed kisses being trailed along Dean's neck have him quivering. He's
ready to do anything to feel that cock inside him, to feel his knot, to be
claimed by him.
"Please," Dean begs.
"Dean, give me your eyes," the man rasps.
Open they go, searching for their counterpart. Blue, the exact blue in his
dreams. Normally, it's hard to hold eye contact with an alpha, his submissive
nature instructing him to avoid it. But not with these eyes, these eyes are so
different, so unique.
Dean theorizes that he must be dead. His father snapped last night and finally
killed him. Because fairytales like this are nonsense, they don't happen in
real life.
"So green," the man whispers, studying Dean's face. It's almost like looking in
a very strange mirror, internally Dean feels exactly how the other man's
expression looks.
Tears are welling and quickly falling, Dean's fucking crying during sex. He's
overwhelmed. The man's features are truly stunning, full lips, angled jawline,
with just a dusting of stubble. Dean guesses he's a good ten to fifteen years
older than him. "You're real?"
The man smiles and Dean's heart explodes. "Yes, I think so."
So many crazy things are coursing through Dean's mind during this moment. He
would die for this man, sacrifice himself in an instant. His soul feels fresh
and unburdened, if it were a tangible item he's sure it would being glowing. He
can breathe properly, like he's just now taking the first true breath of life.
And it feels as if Dean's always known this man, he's familiar, he's home.
"I'm going to kiss you. And we're going to make love..." It's not an option,
it's fact.
Dean's cheek brighten, he's never made love before. But first, he has to know,
"What's your name?"
"My name is Castiel." As soon as the name escapes his lips, he's crushing them
onto Dean's. Dean gasps and parts his lips, giving Castiel full access to his
mouth. Castiel accepts entry and ravishes him, his mouth dominant and
impatient. As they kiss, Dean repeats the man's name in his head over and over.
It's beautiful and somehow exactly what he wanted to hear.
"Castiel," Dean sighs into the kiss, which makes the alpha growl possessively.
"That's right, Dean, only my name from now on," Castiel grunts, the tip of his
cock nudging at Dean's hole.
Dean squirms, eagerly trying impale himself on the cock that's teasing him.
"Castiel," Dean never wants to stop saying it.
"Gonna take my cock, Dean?" Pulling Dean's lower lip into his mouth.
"Please!" Dean's body aches for it.
Castiel pins Dean's wrists above his head, sinking his cock inside Dean's wet
heat in one swift movement. Dean can't help but shout, Castiel's cock is
absolutely huge and fills him up perfectly. They slot together like they were
specifically designed for each other. The alpha's weight feels massive on top
of him, his frame large and masculine. Castiel grazes his teeth over the thin
skin of Dean's neck, the temptation to bite down almost getting the better of
him. He decides to nibble playfully instead, leaving Dean teetering on the edge
of what he wants most.
"Oh," is all Dean can manage at the moment because Castiel's pace quickens, the
drag of his dick unlike any other Dean's ever experienced.
"You're mine, Dean Winchester...always have been, always will be...all fucking
mine."
"All yours, Cas, yeah," Dean responds as he simply lays there and takes it. He
enjoys every thrust, every sharp snap of Castiel's hips, every sinful slap of
skin. The unwavering pressure on his wrists feels so good. Thumping
harmoniously, his pulse and circulation are deafening.
Dean moans when he feels Castiel's knot expanding, he's close. God, Dean's
never wanted someone's come so bad, he wants Castiel to pump him full of it, so
he can hoard every last drop. He never wants their bodies to disconnect.
The potent scent of what can only be described as his soulmate awakens
something primal inside him. Dean suddenly wishes he wasn't on the pill, he
wishes that Castiel could get him pregnant. He wants his tits to swell up with
milk and his belly to become round and stuffed with his alpha's child. He wants
Castiel to breed him. These new desires should feel scary, but Dean's not
afraid.
Dean hates that his father can hear them behind the wall. He's probably calling
Dean a dirty slut while jerking off to his muffled sounds. Irrational as it may
be, Dean wants Castiel all to himself, forever. Wants to be completely alone
with him, because nobody else deserves to eavesdrop on this sacred moment.
"I'm going to save you from this terrible place," Castiel declares, fucking
into Dean hard and fast. "And then I'm going to kill that piece of shit..."
Dean can't handle much more, he needs to come again. Castiel relinquishes his
hold, allowing Dean's arms their freedom. For the first time, Dean touches and
explores his lover. His curious palms make their way into Castiel's raven
colored hair, carding through the locks and traveling down his neck to explore
the muscles of his shoulders and back.
"Keep touching me, Dean, feels so good," Castiel cooes, gently kissing each
individual area of Dean's face. His cock grows bigger and bigger, splitting
Dean impossibly wider.
"Cas, take me, make me yours, I- I need you..."
"Mmm," Castiel swiftly flips Dean over, his ruthless cock never stopping.
Kissing the shell of Dean's ear, his voice is deadly when he breathes out, "Of
course I'm going to take you, Dean, I love you..."
Dean's prostate feels desecrated in the most blissful way as comes again,
screaming and panting while his ass milks the cock inside him. Castiel's knot
peaks in size and catches Dean's rim. Castiel let's out a carnal roar when he
comes, pulsing his seed deeply inside his omega.
No amount of stories or hearsay could have prepared Dean for what being claimed
feels like. Castiel's teeth pierce the skin on his neck, activating life's most
permanent of rituals. The bite is quick, yet the aftermath is wonderfully drawn
out. Castiel keeps rocking into him, all the while sucking additional marks and
territorial bruises all over Dean's throat. Dean feels reborn, an unexplainable
satisfaction diffusing throughout his body. He's mated.
"Your fucking scent drives me crazy," Castiel husks out, still fucking his
never ending load into Dean's raw ass. "I smelled you from down the street. And
I just knew, that's mine, that's my perfect little omega...all for me."
Dean's lost the ability to speak, desperation builds within him as he tries to
produce those three liberating words that will convey he loves Castiel too.
Dean doesn't give a single shit that he barely knows the guy. All he knows for
sure is that he's irreversibly in love with him.
It's limitless and unconditional, two old souls alone in the universe finally
together again. Dean and Castiel will always find their way back to one
another.
Castiel collapses onto his side, hugging Dean's back to his front as close as
he can. Dean is sore all over, his muscles and bones are in sort of a shock.
The knob of his neck hurts the worst, but he's thriving off of it. If he could,
Dean would make sure the wound could never heal, that serene pain is a constant
reminder of who he belongs to. Castiel is purring protectively, his climax
coming to an end as the final shots of come are buried inside of Dean.
"Rest, now."
Fuck, Dean loves his voice. Eyelids already drooping, he turns his head to find
Castiel's lips. The kiss is tender, not rushed like before.
"Hey, uh, I love you too, Cas..." Dean dares, biting his lip nervously and
turning away from Castiel's gaze.
Castiel growls again, nuzzling into the crook of Dean's neck. His lips don't
stop kissing and licking at the bite mark, attempting to soothe Dean's swollen
glands.
Relaxing into the pillow, Dean smiles as he lets sleep consume him. He's the
happiest he's ever been. He's happy that Castiel didn't cower from his father,
claiming him no matter what the consequences may be. Happy that he gets to
leave this nightmare behind and have a real life now, one with food and clothes
and recreation. Only one thing is missing. One thing that Dean can't go one
more goddamn day without. His Sammy. When Dean awakes, he plans on telling
Castiel all about him. He's confident his new mate will help rescue him too.
They'll be a true family in no time.
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