oh no I wrote bad destiel a/b/o smut instead of the new chapter for Riptide what am I doinggggg [hides face in hands]
Dean doesn’t even know his name.
In fact, he knows nothing about the alpha currently fucking him into the mattress like his life depends on it. It very well might, for all Dean knows. Dean certainly feels that way. He’s boiling up from the inside and his skin feels too tight, the unscratchable itch inside him clawing away in a desperate need to be bred, fucked, and knotted. It started as a tick in his temple when they made eye contact across the smoky bar and the rims of whiskey glasses, then slowly spread along his entire body until he was leaking in his pants just watching the alpha lick the pearls of leftover whiskey from his lips.
The alpha put the glass down and rounded the bar, eyes never leaving Dean’s, and before Dean knew what was happening they were stumbling lip-on-lip, tongue-on-tongue out of the bar into the parking lot where the alpha pinned Dean against the hood of his car and ground their crotches together. His hands snaked down the back of Dean’s pants to palm to ass, fingers slipping through slick and sweat, and Dean was gone.
There was a taxi involved, he thinks, because driving was too complicated, and a random wad of bills shoved into the waiting driver’s hand since they were too busy mapping out eachother’s mouths to count exact change.
As soon as the door was locked behind them, the alpha grabbed Dean and hauled him up in his arms so they could continue their filthy grind. It was quick work to rid each other of clothes, neither of them caring when seams ripped and buttons went flying. The alpha stumbled through his apartment with Dean in his arms until they reached what looked like a bedroom. All Dean managed to gasp out was “Breed me” before he was thrown down onto the mattress and covered in six feet of rutting, delicious-smelling alpha.
The alpha groans something unintelligible into Dean’s neck and thrusts into him so hard the springs squeal and screech in protest. It forces an equally undecipherable moan from Dean’s throat- maybe a plea, maybe a praise- and the alpha growls, raking his teeth over the thin skin of Dean’s collarbone.
A shiver trickles across Dean’s shoulders and he arches his chest into the sensation, into the pleasure-pain of being marked. Somewhere, deep down and underneath the sweaty, begging, and needy omega, Dean knows he should be ashamed. He’s always been so careful, never even let an alpha look at him the wrong way for fear of becoming the bitch his father always sees him as, but now he’s too far gone to care about anything other than how good the alpha’s dick feels inside him, how it soothes the fire and scratches that itch.
Sounds fall unbidden from Dean’s flushed lips, whines and whimpers he wouldn’t dream of making if he was sane. The alpha swallows them all greedily, licking into Dean’s slack mouth like he wants to catch them before they escape. Dean tries to kiss back, but nothing’s ever felt like this, not even the vibrator wrapped in socks and tucked in the darkest part of his duffel, and the most he can do is dig his fingers into the alpha's back and plead soundlessly for more.
The alpha’s nimble fingers press into Dean’s skin, leaving bruises and scratches but cooling the heat washing across his body. The places where their bodies touch are damp and slippery with sweat and the precum that’s dripped from Dean’s cock to smear across their bellies.
“Alpha,” Dean whimpers, and if he wasn’t already flushed red with lust he would blush at his tone and the corniness of it all. “Please.”
Dean receives no verbal response, all he gets is another guttural growl and a nip to his windpipe that makes Dean squirm on his cock.
A throbbing ache starts to set in next to the blinding pleasure, almost unnoticeable under the sensation of being full. It takes a few strokes, a few ragged breaths, a few thundering heartbeats to realize what it is.
The alpha’s knot is swelling.
Dean moans loudly at the realization and grinds down with each of the alpha’s upward thrusts, desperate for something he has always found slightly repulsive. He wants the tight stretch of being knotted and the warmth of being bred more than he’s wanted anything in his life. He can’t even find a sliver of himself that’s embarrassed, he’s all desire and want now.
As the alpha’s strokes become more and more erratic and the ache grows stronger and stronger, a cool hand worms it’s way between their rolling bodies and wraps around Dean’s swollen dick. Dean cries out and twists under the alpha, suddenly not knowing whether to fuck down onto the cock inside him or up into the hand around him.
A soft, clever thumb strokes across Dean’s slit and his eyes snap open to find the alpha’s piercing gaze directly on him. It’s mesmerizing, but blinding, and as much as he wants to, Dean can’t look away from what feels like being laid bare and stripped of all his defenses.
Then, the alpha hisses the the first understandable words of the night against Dean’s lips. “Come for me.”
It starts as a tingling pooling in the base of Dean’s spine that blossoms out to settle into everywhere from the tip of his tongue to the creases in his palm. Then, suddenly, it snaps, and Dean is coming all over the alpha’s stomach and hand. The edges of his vision blur and his head spins, but he’s not out of it enough to miss the moment when the alpha’s hips stop snapping and the knot locks them together.
As Dean’s orgasm ends, the alpha’s begins. Dean feels the alpha’s cock twitch once, twice, then warmth is painting his insides. Instinct demands that he clench around the knot inside him, milking it for all it’s worth despite how tired he is. The alpha drops his head to Dean’s collarbone and moans, hips working in tiny circles as he fucks himself through it. He gently takes the flesh of Dean’s shoulder in his mouth and works it between his teeth as he comes down, not enough to break the skin, but enough to leave indents that will surely last for hours, if not days, to come.
They lay there catching their breath for what feels like an eternity, Dean’s head dropped back against his pillow and the alpha’s forehead resting on his shoulder, before one of them stirs.
It’s the alpha that moves first. With a grunt, he lifts himself off Dean and grabs for his leg, hauling it up when he finds it. For one terrifying moment, Dean thinks he’s going to pull out, knot be damned, but all he does is a sort of awkward roll under Dean’s knee as he pushes Dean the opposite way. It ends with Dean being cradled up against the alpha’s chest, which he would normally be opposed to if not for how cold the rapidly cooling sweat on his skin leaves him feeling.
“Castiel,” the alpha says into Dean’s ear, voice quiet but rough in the way that voices get after sex.
“That’s my name. Castiel.” He pauses to lick the shell of Dean’s ear, humming happily when Dean’s shivers. “I thought I should introduce myself.”
Castiel. Dean rolls the name over in his head and finds that it inexplicably dredges up feelings of joy from his sex-sated body. It also resounds startlingly close to the sensation of home, of feeling safe and protected and loved, which is something Dean never had.
“Dean,” Dean finally says. “I’m Dean.”
