3.5k | Explicit | Alpha!Cas/Fluid!Alpha-Omega!Dean (born alpha)
Alphas and Omegas are very different than one another. Alpha’s eyes glow red and an omega’s eyes glow gold. Dean’s glow bronze.
Dean was tired of the whole charade. He was tired of always being the tough guy. He was tired of the 180 decision that his father had made for him when he had turned 16. It just wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right; it always weighed on him heavier than it was supposed to. He took another swig of his beer.
When he and Sammy were younger, Dean had taken care of Sammy. He had been the nurturer and caretaker. He had to; no one else was. His father, an alpha, was not exactly designed to do it – according to him at least – so Dean had been forced to.
He got used to it. It had taken a while; but, he had liked it. It was weird when he was 13. He found himself looking at pregnant omegas or betas and feeling a sense of warmth rush through him at the thought. He would squeeze Sammy’s shoulder or ruffle his hair in response, anything to feel close to what was essentially his pup.
John had treated him like an omega. He was left home with Sam. He was given the orders to hold the shotgun, to be ready for anything. His father was a con-artist and cons didn’t always go North. Dean was all soft edges and plump lips. His father, while not happy that Dean was destined to be an omega, was proud that his omega pup was good-looking enough to get a good mate. He used to grab up Dean’s chin and nod, “You’re going to have so many suitors.”
Dean had always blushed. He kind of liked the idea of being looked after, ultimately having and looking over more pups.
Dean growled into his beer bottle.
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