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The heat didn’t wait for him to be ready.
Dean could barely unwrap the tampon. His fingers trembled around the plastic like he couldn’t figure out how to hold things anymore, knees pressed together and belly curling inward as that deep, wrong ache started low and mean. He blinked down at the mess already blooming between his thighs, blood soaking into his panties, dark and slickened with the unmistakable shine of heat. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Periods and heats didn’t overlap. They never had.
But his cunt ached—swollen, throbbing, wetter than it should’ve been—and his body felt like it was being torn open by two instincts at once. He turned his face into the pillow and sobbed, shuddering. The cramps twisted through his pelvis in brutal, stabbing waves, and beneath that—so much worse—his heat clung like fire under the skin, hot, needy, humiliating.
By the time Cas came home, Dean had given up. He was curled in the middle of their bed, shirt wrinkled, rucked halfway up to his breasts. One arm cradled his stomach like that could stop the way it cramped, the other between his legs, hand barely cupping the slick mess there because even the lightest touch made his hips twitch. His cheeks were red, blotchy from crying, his voice breaking before Cas even reached the bedroom.
“C-Cas—” high and hiccupping and soft, his tone wobbling like he was about to cry again, “I—I’m s-sorry—I didn’t know it was gonna—please—I don’t know what’s wrong with me—feels s-so bad, so good, I can’t—please, alpha—”
Cas was on him instantly, scent flaring sharp and heavy as he dropped to his knees beside the bed. One breath, and he smelled it: heat. Blood. Desperation. His mate trembling, flushed, curled in on himself like something cracked open.
“You’re on your period,” he said gently, reverently, brushing Dean’s thighs open with strong, warm hands. “And you’re in heat.”
“I know,” Dean whimpered, squirming. “It hurts. I feel… I feel so weird. M’so needy—I c-can’t think, Cas, please—I need something, I need you—want your knot—want it in me—can’t do this alone—”
Cas leaned in, nose pressed flush against the damp crotch of Dean’s panties, and inhaled deep. His cock swelled immediately, aching heavy and full as he tugged the ruined fabric down Dean’s trembling legs. The sight made him groan—Dean’s cunt was flushed and swollen, blood shining over his slick lips, the scent of heat and iron and want so thick it made his vision blur.
“You’re perfect baby,” he growled, mouth against Dean’s hip. “So fucking pretty like this. My soft, messy omega. Bleeding and needy and soaking for your alpha.”
Dean’s breath hitched. “D-don’t look, I—I’m gross—”
“Don’t you ever say that again," Cas snarled, eyes wild. “You’re mine, my omega. This whole body—sore and soft and dripping with blood and slick—you were made for me.”
Then he licked. Tongue flat, dragging through the mess without hesitation. Dean screamed. His thighs clamped instinctively around Cas’ head, back arching as blood and slick coated Cas’ mouth, tongue lapping at him like he was starving. The wet sound of it—slurp, squelch, the slide of spit and heat and blood—echoed between them, obscene.
“God—Cas—n-not there—I’m, I’m too messy, I’m—”
“Shut up,” Cas growled, “and take it. Let me eat what’s mine.”
He didn’t stop until Dean was sobbing, hole clenching around nothing, desperate and slippery and shivering. When Cas finally pulled back, mouth slick with Dean’s blood, he was panting. “You’ve been suffering through this alone? Should’ve called me sooner, sweetheart.”
“I—I tried, I d-did, I thought I could—nngh—wait,” Dean hiccupped, writhing. “Please, please, alpha, don’t make me wait anymore—I’ll do anything—I wanna be full, wanna be yours, wanna be pregnant—”
That made Cas snap.
He lined up without preamble and shoved in, the slide lewd, cock coated immediately in blood and slick. Dean wailed—high and broken, hands scrambling for purchase on the sheets. His cunt sucked Cas in greedily, already twitching and clenching, overstimulated and slicked raw.
“Oh my god—it’s too much, Cas—too big, too hot—”
“You’ll take it,” Cas growled, pounding in. “You’re soft and open for me, you’re made to take me. Look at how you spread—fuck—you’re dripping all over me, baby. You want to get knocked up while you’re bleeding? Want me to breed you right through it?”
Dean sobbed, nodding frantically. “Y-yeah—yes, alpha—fill me—fill me up with your come—I don’t care if I’m bleeding—I wanna get pregnant, please—please breed me—”
Cas grabbed his wrists, pinned them above his head, and fucked him hard. The rhythm fast, sharp, the sound of his hips smacking against Dean’s ass mixing with wet squelches of blood-slick thrusts. His knot swelled fast, every thrust threatening to pop it in. Dean whined like an animal, back arching with each hit to his sweet spot.
“Knot me, alpha—p-please—I need it, want it stuck in me—wanna feel your come leaking out, wanna feel full forever—!”
“You pathetic little thing,” Cas hissed, leaning in to nip at Dean’s throat. “So desperate to be bred even when you’re bleeding. I’ll breed you with my pups if it’s the last thing I do.”
The knot finally popped in with a thick, brutal stretch, making Dean scream. His hole spasmed, milking Cas’ cock, the pressure of blood and slick and heat overwhelming. Cas came deep, cock pulsing inside as his come filled Dean’s raw, aching cunt, flooding around the knot, leaking out around the seal.
Dean went limp. Boneless and shaking, mouth open in a silent moan.
Cas stayed locked inside, kissing him gently—temples, jaw, tear-wet cheeks, breasts. “You did so well, sweetheart,” he murmured. “You’re so perfect like this. Knotted, bred, messy and mine.”
He didn’t pull out until long after the knot softened. When he did, the gush of come and blood dripped slow and heavy down Dean’s thighs. Cas carried him to the bathroom like he weighed nothing, whispering softly as he filled the tub, already pre-scented with calming oils. Dean barely moved, letting Cas lower him in, legs twitching.
“You're okay, love. I've got you,” Cas said, washing him with tender hands. He cleaned between every fold, every inch of blood. He licked over each oversensitive nipple, kissed each bruise blooming on Dean’s hips. “Still aching?” he whispered, rubbing his fingers in slow circles over Dean’s breasts.
Dean moaned, weak and dazed. “Everywhere… hurts. But I feel s-safe. Warm. Yours.”
“Yes, you are, baby,” Cas said fiercely, kissing his lips, his cheeks, his stomach.
When he carried Dean back to bed, the sheets were fresh. The panties were padded. Cas eased them up Dean’s thighs, kissed his belly, and then—delicately—pressed a tampon against Dean’s clit, making him gasp.
“For stimulation,” Cas murmured. “My needy little heat-drunk omega.”
Then he fed him. Warm soup. Buttered bread. Water through a straw between whispered praises. He rubbed the cramps from Dean’s belly, thumbed circles into his hips, massaged his breasts until Dean moaned from the relief. When Dean whined from another cramp, Cas pressed a kiss to his lower belly. “I’ll take every bit of this pain away,” he swore, “just let me care for you.”
Later, the heat surged again. Dean whimpered before it even fully hit, rolling into Cas’ lap with trembling thighs spread, blood still faintly spotting the pad in his panties.
“Oh god, no! Again?” he breathed, clutching at Cas’ shirt. “Alpha, please—I need your knot again—I’ll take it, I don’t care, I wanna be fucked—I’m yours, always yours—please—please—”
Cas didn’t hesitate.
He stripped him, mounted him, and bred him all over again—rougher, filthier, with the kind of urgency that made Dean sob and cling. The blood didn’t matter. The slick didn’t matter. Only the sound of Cas groaning “mine, mine, mine,” into Dean’s throat, and Dean crying for him over and over.
When it ended—when the bleeding faded, the cramps ebbed, the heat finally broke—Cas still treated him like glass. Like a treasure. He knelt in front of Dean on the last day, eased a clean pad into his panties, pulled them up, and kissed the soft swell of his belly before laying him down and curling around him.
“My omega,” he whispered, face pressed into Dean’s hair. “I’ll take care of you every day. Bleeding, bred, fucked full. You’re everything to me.”
Dean, wrecked and soft and swaddled in love, just whimpered, curling tighter into his Alpha’s arms with a weak purr: sated. Claimed. Safe. Forever.