Kitsune! Alpha! Castiel and Human! Omega! Dean.

Shout out to MeshackDiva and Imaginative-Wandering!

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Edited 1/15/23: Updated tags- Omegaverse. Semi-Public sex. Car sex. Manhandling. Rimming. Oral. Collaring. Vaginal penetration. Creampie.

Dean tipped his beer back, the bottle over half empty at this point. From his position at the bar's end, if he sat where he could look down the counter towards the bartender, he had a good view of the room. Moe's Tavern wasn't exactly a classy joint, but then he had chosen it for just that reason. Fortunately dive bars were as plentiful in America as McDonalds joints. By the time they'd made use of all those in the state they could start over again without anyone remembering his face.

There was an Alpha across the bar that had been eyeing him as he threw back glasses of rum. He was why Dean was here, alone and sipping alcohol in a place where Omegas didn't just come for a drink. The few others of his breed that were here either sat on the floor at their Alpha's feet or were little more than the occasional cry of ecstasy from the back rooms. While he'd earned an odd look from the Beta bartender he'd paid good money, so they hadn't had real reason to send him away. Instead he'd simply been subject to attention from Alphas in various levels of intoxication.

That was the idea, though. To draw the attention sure to be given to a cocky Omega on territory dominated by Alpha hormones. Sitting erect at the bar so casually, bare neck exposed to the room. While he did have a mate mark, a white crescent scar made by his Alpha, it was low enough that it was easily hidden. All they would see was a lack of collar. For all he loved his freedom he still felt naked without the thing, even if Castiel himself had been the one to take it off and would put it back on before the night was out. A collar of far better quality than anything worn by the Omegas here, supple light brown leather that was neither too loose nor too tight, a locking mechanism of silver metal that would only open for his mate's fingerprint. The inside of it had been branded with his Alpha's name, and in small numbers the date of their official mating ceremony.

The sooner he got this over with the sooner Castiel would put it back on. Dean shook his head, scolding himself for such thoughts and taking another gulp of his beer. His eyes flicked back to the Alpha he'd been keeping an eye on, the one who'd been watching him in turn, if more blatantly. According to the bartender, who'd been happy to make small talk, this one was trouble. Drank too much, fought too much, talked too much, made more enemies than friends. He wouldn't be missed. Not by his fellow patrons, not by a boss at a job he didn't have, and not by the Omega he knocked around, collaring them but refusing to mate them.

Dean had just finished his beer when the Alpha in question, big and burly and in dire need of a thorough shower, lurched to his feet. He lumbered around the bar, uncaring of who he jostled, eyes on the Omega. Smirking, Dean pointedly ignored him. He'd always hated Alphas like this, and now he got to routinely snub them.

"Hey, bitch."

He ignored the words, as much as they irked him.

"You look at me when I'm taking to you," the Alpha snarled. He grabbed the bar stool, wrenching it around so violently Dean almost fell off.

The Omega kept his perch, barely, trying to ignore the irritation as he sat back and regarded the Alpha. He was all snarling visage and enraged, bloodshot eyes, but Dean held his ground. He had never cowered for anyone, much less an Alpha, and he wasn't about to start now.

When he still didn't answer the people in their immediate vicinity began edging away. The Alpha growled, "The hell's a pretty Omega like you doing in a place like this, without an Alpha?" In a true move of stupidity, one hand dropped down onto his thigh.

"Minding my own damn business." Dean winced as fingers dug into his flesh, denim doing little to guard against overgrown nails. He reached down with one hand, flashing the Alpha an innocent smile, his fingers trailing across his wrist.

That groping hand was attempting to move higher when the Omega caught his little finger, bending it up and back sharply. The Alpha howled, staggering as his arm was bent around at an angle. Dean waited until he had the Alpha on his toes, then released his grip so he could smash his empty beer bottle over the half drunk Alpha's head.

Deciding the bear had been sufficiently poked, Dean slid off his stool and bolted. He ran passed laughing Alphas and snickering Betas, passed the pool tables, and out the back door. Judging by the ruckus, his quarry wasn't far behind him.

Dean sprinted out of the alley, into the vacant lot behind the bar. It was a one stoplight town he hadn't even bothered to get the name of, there would be no surveillance and no witnesses. This lot was mostly empty, save for abandoned construction supplies and a car parked behind them. The Omega relaxed as soon as he saw Baby, slowing to a trot.

As soon as he did, though, hands grabbed him. The Omega didn't even stiffen as a possessive growl rumbled in his ear, a nose in his throat, hands gasping his neck and ass roughly. Instead he relaxed, only offering, "He's coming," by way of protest.

After a brief growl he was released, pushed towards the Impala. He stumbled a few paces, but then turned around in time to see the scumbag Alpha come barreling around the corner. He ran right into his own death. He barely got out a cry before it petered out with a wet gurgle. In Baby's headlights Dean got to watch his mate at work, talons forming to drive under the base of his skull as soon as his prey was no longer twitching. Considering the human pituitary gland was the size of a pea Castiel could gouge it out on the first try even in these conditions. He'd had plenty of practice.

Dean helpfully fetched a jar of water from the car, unscrewing the lid and going over to the hunched figure with five talons buried inside a dead human's skull. He crouched down, offering it as Castiel gingerly removed the desired bit of brain. A rumbled thanks was directed at him as the pituitary gland was dropped into the jar, as unappetizing as always. But then he wasn't a Kitsune.

The Omega went to stow it in their trunk, stuffing their prize into a cooler of ice. Technically Castiel could get by with harvesting from cadavers, something made easy when you were a mortician, but it wasn't the same. Over time it would leave the Kitsune weakened, more open to human sickness. Their speed, strength, and stamina dropped to human levels. Day to day they could get by with human food, but pituitary glands sustained a Kitsune. When he'd first found out the Alpha he wanted to mate wasn't exactly human Castiel had only been eating fresh a few times a year, targeting scummy drug dealers and people on the sexual predator lists from surrounding states. These days they made trips like this once a month, at minimum.

When he had what they needed Castiel stood, wiping the blood from his hand. Dean waited, watching him. He felt more than he saw eyes on him, the back of his neck tingling. He held his ground, not flinching even when the Alpha's form blurred as he moved forward in a burst of speed.

"You smell like him," his Alpha growled in his ear. A hand gripped the back of his neck, running up into his hair, holding him in place for a dominating kiss.

"So get rid of him," Dean gasped when he was allowed up for air.

Rather than cobble together a verbal answer, Castiel shoved him against the Impala. The hand lightly gripping the back of his neck pushed him down, until he was bent over Baby's hood, and keeping him there. It wasn't necessary, but it satisfied the Alpha's instincts and damn did it make the Omega hot. He didn't put up a fuss, fingers scrabbling for purchase on Baby's freshly washed hood. Talons scratched his back as his shirt and jacket were shoved up, the same trailing stings marking his hip and thigh as his jeans and underwear were shoved down to his knees. A foot knocked his own feet as far apart as his clothes would allow, the hand on his neck finally letting go to press against the small of his back instead.

"Cas," he moaned. It was immediately followed by a gasp as a hot, rough tongue probed between his cheeks, a growl thrumming against his flesh. When he tried to rock backwards, whimpering as that nimble tongue worked his dripping hole, talons bit into his hip a second time and shoved him hard against the Impala's side.

"Be still," the Alpha growled, voice more feral than human.

He groaned, but reluctantly stilled. Satisfied, Castiel resumed his work. He couldn't use his fingers, not without harming his mate, but he'd become very apt at alternative methods. If Dean had been standing upright his legs would have given out on him, he knew. It was just as well Baby was taking most of his weight. All he had to do was try and hold still and let his Alpha work. Technically this was a primary scent source, the neck being a strong secondary source, and Castiel was simply making sure his mate was saturated with his scent. But if he could make his Omega writhe and cum while he was at it, all the better. Dean had certainly given up complaining.

"Cas, Cas please," he gasped at last, eyes hazy, lips parted as he panted.

Teeth raked his inner thigh, a constant growl sending tantalizing vibrations through his flesh. Again the tongue, rougher than usual to match his talons, moved south. The whimper as his entrance was abandoned only earned him a bite that broke skin, right before his balls and cock were given attention. As much as he enjoyed this, he liked the previous attention better. Thankfully Castiel's ministrations didn't stray long.

It didn't take much more after that. A triumphant snarl was barely audible to the Omega as a shudder wracked his frame, a choked cry in his throat. Castiel straightened, his hand moving to his neck again, the other coming up to pet his hair as he rode out the orgasm.

"Yes, cum for your Alpha," the Kitsune rasped, lazily licking his mate mark. "Good Omega."

Dean's eyes fluttered, his body limp, but he stirred when he felt something cool snake around his neck. An involuntary whimper was drawn from his lips as a familiar strip of leather was wrapped around his neck, the lock clicking into place.

"Mine."

"Yours." The gasped word was followed by a hitch as his mate slid inside his dripping hole. He was still a little sensitive after the orgasm, but not enough for him to protest as the Alpha proceeded to fuck him against the Impala.

"Mine to have." Castiel's voice had dropped another octave, more animal than human by this point. "Mine to take. No other for me." A hand snaked around, wrapping around the Omega's stirring cock, drawing a strangled whimper from him as he began stroking tender flesh. "Mine to mark. Mine to knot. Mine to breed."

"Cas...not here, don't have time for- "

His protest was cut off in a grunt of pain as Kitsune teeth closed around his shoulder. While the mate mark was the only one that had stayed over the years, other parts of his body usually held some mark or another. After tonight he'd have several new ones. Dean didn't know why he'd never put his foot down in their sane moments, anymore than he understood why getting manhandled got him off. Somehow being marked like a common bitch who might stray got a similar reaction.

"Not your decision to make, Omega," the Kitsune was rumbling in his ear. "If you're given a knot, you take it."

Despite this, Castiel didn't knot him. He wasn't so far gone, and it often took more than one round to produce one. He did cum inside the Omega, bringing his mate over the edge a second time. It was hardly conventional foreplay, fucking over a cooling corpse, but Castiel was very possessive. Dean had first started luring as an easier and smoother alternative to simply jumping douchebags on their way home, but he soon found that doing this left their scent on him. Something Castiel liked to eliminate as quickly and thoroughly as possible.

Now they didn't even have to destroy the body. Anyone who came across him now would remember him being suicidal enough to go after a taken Omega in a bar. Castiel would be well within his rights even in human law to defend his claim, and half of the rare Alpha murders were in territory disputes anyway. Hunting made easy.

"Dean," the Kitsune murmured, nuzzling his neck and withdrawing from his fucked hole.

A low groan was more feasible than words, so that's what Castiel got. Dean grimaced when smiling lips pressed to his neck, before his mate began carefully putting his clothes back into place. He could already feel a mix of cum and slick leaking out of him, something that would be a neon sign to any Alphas who might consider pulling a stunt like their latest victim had. But all the Omega could think about was the laundry that he'd have to do either tomorrow or the day after. It wasn't something he looked forward to.

Once he was passably dressed Castiel helped him into the car, pressing a tender kiss to his lips before closing the passenger door. It wasn't often Dean gave up the driver's seat willingly, but on nights like tonight he didn't have much choice in the matter. He could hardly drive them home if he couldn't sit properly.

At least by the next morning the soreness had settled to a vague tenderness, which was far easier to live with. Despite their late night he dragged himself out of bed the next morning, slogging into the kitchen and taking the jar from their freezer. He even managed a smile when he noticed it was sitting next to a box of dinosaur chicken nuggets.

It was Saturday, which meant pancakes. He was flipping them from a skillet onto a plate as people trickled into the kitchen, bleary eyed and drowsy, drawn by the scent of bacon and hotcakes. Castiel was first, eyes no longer slitted, hair ruffled. He absently kissed the Omega's temple in passing rather than utter a good morning, starting the coffee pot. None of them were what one might call 'morning people'.

Castiel was pouring caffeinated ambrosia into two mugs when the second person came in. Dean ruffled a messy mop of black hair, cracking a smile as their eldest plopped down at the table and reached for the bacon. River acted more like him, but she was the spitting image of her father, ruffled morning look and all. It was another few minutes before Henry shuffled in after her, yawning widely and climbing into a kitchen chair.

"Bacon?" he mumbled, once he'd taken a few restorative gulps of orange juice.

River pushed the plate over, careful to keep her distance. The pen-point sized blisters still covered most of his visible skin, and while his fever had broken two days ago it would be a while before the marks would go away. Before he could go back to school.

"How are you feeling?" Castiel asked, voice still a little rough with sleep.

"They still itch," their six-year old complained.

"How much longer? No one will play with me in case I've got his germs," River complained.

"Another week, maybe. It ain't exact," Dean informed her unsympathetically. At the moment he had a few things on his plate that trumped the social life their ten-year-old.

Ignoring her pouting, Dean picked up the mug he'd set aside. Two parts chocolate milk, one part puree pituitary gland. Technically Castiel got enough to sustain them at work, barely. They'd moved to a larger city with a bigger cadaver rotation when they'd had Henry, part of the reason they'd stopped at two, but living this way was riskier for kids than adults. It was a serious component of why they harvested the fresh stuff once a month. Castiel refused to 'get by', leaving himself weak, when he had a mate and two children to care for. For their health they tried to get the kids something on a somewhat regular rotation. So each month they took a turn consuming what Dean and Castiel were able to harvest. It kept them strong, healthy, with very rare exceptions.

Dean hated those exceptions. Two years ago, River had caught the cold that had been going around school. Castiel had bypassed his turn, insisting the pituitary gland go to their child, providing her with a much-needed nutrition boost. Something he intended to repeat this time. He'd take the next one, but right now Henry needed it far more than he did.

"Drink up," the Omega ordered him, pressing the mug into his hands.

Henry peered into it, pouting at the reddish brown liquid. Sadly there was only so much Dean could do to make it more palpable to young Kitsune without removing the nutrients. "How come? I had it last time."

"It's not my turn," River protested around a mouthful of pancake.

"This isn't about turns," Castiel stated, tone firm. "Drink, Henry. It'll help you feel better."

Weary green eyes regarded his father, then the mug's contents. Henry made a face, then took a deep breath and started chugging. Dean stayed where he was, making sure he drank all of it before taking the mug back. Henry gladly returned to his breakfast, unthinkingly leaning into the touch as his mother stroked his hair in a reassuring gesture.

As Dean went to rinse out the mug, he saw Castiel's eyes flick briefly to slitted pupils and back again. He rolled his own eyes, helping himself to his coffee and joining them at the table. Castiel would eat after they did. Considering he had every excuse to be more feral than most Alphas such behavior wasn't common. Outside of their hunts he was typically the most level-headed Alpha Dean had ever met. So when he was drowsy and wanted to watch over his family during breakfast, the Omega wasn't going to complain. Besides, it meant more bacon for them.

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