FIC: Temptation to Sin
TITLE: Temptation to Sin
AUTHOR: Demona aka azraelz_angel
FANDOM: Supernatural
PAIRING: John/Dean
RATING: NC17
WORD COUNT: ~1745
WARNINGS: Slash - Daddy!cest
SUMMARY: It’s been building for years, and when Dean finally gets John involved, John knows he should feel guilty, should feel dirty, bad, wrong, but he just can’t.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, the CW, etc. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
NOTES: Be gentle. This is the first John/Dean piece I’ve ever written. Crossposted like whoa!
Written for justthatdirty’s Sex Toy challenge:
Pairing: John / Dean
Sex Toy: Dildo
Age 14
The first time John caught Dean fooling around with himself it’s a hell of a lot more awkward than he thought it would be. Of course, John only imagined he’d walk in on Dean jerking off and that would be it. Perhaps he’d offer some advice - the use of lotion or lube to ease the chafing - and then give him a sex talk and some condoms. But he wasn’t prepared for the sight of Dean kneeling on his bed, one hand jerking frantically at his shiny, angry-red cock, and the other tucked behind him, two fingers sliding in and out of his ass. He shouldn’t have stayed there, watching and unable to tear his gaze away. He shouldn’t have been there when Dean came all over himself, gasping out “Dad”.
Age 16
The second time Dean meant to get caught. It was the only explanation John could come up with. Sam was at school and Dean should have been at work. But instead he was sitting on their ratty couch, jeans open and his cock hard and wet as he stroked it. There was badly made porn on the tv. Some big busted blonde was taking it up the ass, moaning like it was the best she’d ever had. Dean’s eyes only left the screen when the floorboard creaked under John’s feet. He didn’t look surprised or guilty - didn’t even bother slowing down. He just stared John down until John walked away. It was easy to pretend he’d misheard Dean’s stuttered, chocked out cry of “Dad” and the muffled sobs afterwards.
Age 18
Dean disappears for a few days following his 18th birthday. He doesn’t tell John where he’s going and makes no mention of when he’ll return. It bothers John that Dean decided to show his independence and transform into adulthood. He knows his son well, knows the moves he’ll make before he makes them. But this disappearing act threw him for a loop. He never saw it coming.
Three days later John’s home on his lunch break when he realizes Dean’s returned. Music is coming from the boys’ bedroom, spilling down the hall. As he gets closer he can make out the grunts and moans just barely heard over the hard rock. The door is cracked, just a few inches, but it’s enough for John to see inside. He’s expecting to find Dean and some girl, anticipating ribbing Dean for bringing a girl back here. But instead he forgets to breathe when he puts together the scene in his head. Dean’s alone - alone except for the dildo he’s got in his ass. His knees are bent, feet flat on the bed, with a pillow under his hips. And he’s got ahold of his cock with one hand and the handle of the dildo with the other.
John blinks slowly, sweat slowly dripping down his face, as he watches Dean pull the dildo slowly out. It’s shiny - coated with lube - and Dean’s ass is shiny and red as it stretches around it. John lets out a soft groan when Dean slams it back home, rocking his hips and thrusting up into his fist.
The noise alerts Dean to his presence. And again, like the last time John’d caught him, Dean doesn’t stop. He locks eyes with John, green eyes burning with lust, as he continues to get himself off.
This time John knows Dean calls out for him as he comes. He watches Dean’s lips form around “Dad”. Listens as Dean’s fucked out hoarse voice spills his name. And he watches as Dean shoves the dildo in that final time and bucks up into his fist - come shooting out in streams to cover his hand and stomach. He watches as the flush of Dean’s orgasm goes right through him.
He walks out and doesn’t speak to Dean for three days.
Age 21
Dean’s been hitting the bars hard for the last few weeks. He’s freshly 21 and has been taking full advantage. Sam’s taken to sleeping in the Impala’s backseat rather than deal with Dean and his conquests. And god knows Sam would rather ruin his back then ask John for the spare bed in his room.
Sam didn’t bother to tell John that Dean has been preferring older men with scruffy beards and rough hands to pretty little blondes with dimples.
John came home from the bar early exactly one month after Dean’s twenty-first. He was only a little shocked that Dean had already left - presumably back at their dingy hotel with yet another one night stand. John feels a little guilty - a little dirty - as he too heads back. He knows if he hurries he’ll be able to hear Dean’s pants and moans through the crappy walls. John doesn’t like to admit that he enjoys jerking off to the soundtrack of his eldest son fucking.
So when John pushes open the door to his own hotel room, his hand already fumbling with his belt to release his half-hard cock, he’s surprised enough to stop moving all together. Dean’s naked, sweat-slick skin glistening in the low lighting of the room, while he lies on John’s unmade bed. The smell of sex is strong. And John immediately thinks he’s accidentally gotten into the boys’ room. A quick glance up at the number on the door only confuses him further, because Dean’s the one in the wrong room. He catches distant voices from behind him and he fully steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. No one needs to see Dean like this. It doesn’t even occur to John that he could have just as easily backed out and left Dean alone.
Dean’s watching him, jade eyes sparkling with lust and mischief. And John feels like he’s missing something - stepped into the conversation halfway through. Dean doesn’t talk though, just slowly draws up his legs, knees pressing tight into his chest, and John can see the dildo nestled firmly in his ass, its fake balls keeping it from slipping inside. Dean’s dick is half-hard and shiny as it lies against his thigh. And John realizes Dean’s already gotten off in his bed. And Dean doesn’t move, just stays in his curled up position, arms holding up his legs, and waits.
And suddenly it all makes sense. The casual touches, the muttered and sometimes deliberate comments, and this. God help him, he shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be getting hard staring at his son’s hole clenching around that fake cock. His feet are moving without his knowledge. His jacket slips off with the soft rustle of leather.
He stops at the foot of the bed, his hands trembling slightly and his breath coming in short, sharp pants. Dean watches him, licking his lips, eyes daring him. John breaks eye contact - he just can’t make himself look into Dean’s eyes while he starts this.
John puts one knee up on the bed and rubs his suddenly sweating palms down his jeans. He leans over Dean, taking in the lean body below him.
“Tell me I’m not wrong. Tell me you want this,” John breaths out, searching out the truth on Dean’s face.
“Thought you’d never figure it out,” Dean grumbles, his arms starting to shake from holding up his legs.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” Dean answers.
John stares at him for a few more moments before nodding to himself. He gently tugs on Dean’s knee, and Dean lets his legs down, feet flat on the mattress, knees bent. Dean’s cock is starting to take interest again and is almost fully erect.
John figures its now or never so he kneels on the bed inbetween Dean’s legs and reaches out for the dildo. It’s a hard black rubber and cool to the touch - nothing like the real thing. He gives it a small tug and a few inches of it slide out of Dean. He watches as Dean’s hole stretches out - almost like it doesn’t want the dildo to leave his body. Dean moans low in his throat when John pushes it all the way back in and twists it. His hips flex up, driving it in just a little deeper.
“More,” Dean growls out.
John puts one hand on Dean’s hip, hand sliding around for a moment before finding purchase, and he pulls the dildo almost all the way out, leaving only the head. The thing is massive and John’s shocked that Dean’s managed to take it. But Dean did this for him, Dean wants John to do this, and John’s not going to stop now. He shoves it back in, sending Dean’s body rocking with the thrust, and Dean keens. The noise makes John hesitate for a second before one of Dean’s hands snakes down to grip his cock and he starts to jerk himself off.
Satisfied that Dean’s okay, John continues. He pulls the dildo back out and shoves it back in, varying the thrusts and adding twisting variations here and there. Dean’s grunting, growling out filth, taunting John as sweat runs down his face. John knows Dean’s close, can feel the fine tremors in his legs and watches as his stomach clenches.
“Come for me, boy,” John finally whispers, voice thick with lust and rough from the late hour.
Dean tenses up at the words, his hand hurriedly sliding up and down his cock, and then he’s coming - coming all over his own hand and onto his stomach. John keeps fucking him through it until Dean releases his own cock and his body goes slack.
John’s hard, harder than he can ever remember being, and he frantically fumbles with his belt, carefully pulling his zipper down over his straining erection. It only takes a few quick strokes before he’s coming, his come coating the fake balls pressed up against Dean’s ass. He works himself through his climax, keeps going until it’s almost too painful, and only then does he stop.
It takes a few moments for John to get his bearings back. For his breathing to stop coming out in harsh pants and return to normal. His heart is still hammering in his chest and his body is still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He looks down at Dean, all fucked out and covered in come, and Dean offers him a tired, satisfied smile. John knows he should feel guilty, should feel dirty, bad, wrong, but he can’t - not while Dean’s genuinely smiling for the first time in ages.
AUTHOR: Demona aka azraelz_angel
FANDOM: Supernatural
PAIRING: John/Dean
RATING: NC17
WORD COUNT: ~1745
WARNINGS: Slash - Daddy!cest
SUMMARY: It’s been building for years, and when Dean finally gets John involved, John knows he should feel guilty, should feel dirty, bad, wrong, but he just can’t.
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Supernatural belong to Eric Kripke, the CW, etc. The ideas and concepts in this story are mine entirely. Please do not copy or take this story without my permission.
NOTES: Be gentle. This is the first John/Dean piece I’ve ever written. Crossposted like whoa!
Written for justthatdirty’s Sex Toy challenge:
Pairing: John / Dean
Sex Toy: Dildo
Age 14
The first time John caught Dean fooling around with himself it’s a hell of a lot more awkward than he thought it would be. Of course, John only imagined he’d walk in on Dean jerking off and that would be it. Perhaps he’d offer some advice - the use of lotion or lube to ease the chafing - and then give him a sex talk and some condoms. But he wasn’t prepared for the sight of Dean kneeling on his bed, one hand jerking frantically at his shiny, angry-red cock, and the other tucked behind him, two fingers sliding in and out of his ass. He shouldn’t have stayed there, watching and unable to tear his gaze away. He shouldn’t have been there when Dean came all over himself, gasping out “Dad”.
Age 16
The second time Dean meant to get caught. It was the only explanation John could come up with. Sam was at school and Dean should have been at work. But instead he was sitting on their ratty couch, jeans open and his cock hard and wet as he stroked it. There was badly made porn on the tv. Some big busted blonde was taking it up the ass, moaning like it was the best she’d ever had. Dean’s eyes only left the screen when the floorboard creaked under John’s feet. He didn’t look surprised or guilty - didn’t even bother slowing down. He just stared John down until John walked away. It was easy to pretend he’d misheard Dean’s stuttered, chocked out cry of “Dad” and the muffled sobs afterwards.
Age 18
Dean disappears for a few days following his 18th birthday. He doesn’t tell John where he’s going and makes no mention of when he’ll return. It bothers John that Dean decided to show his independence and transform into adulthood. He knows his son well, knows the moves he’ll make before he makes them. But this disappearing act threw him for a loop. He never saw it coming.
Three days later John’s home on his lunch break when he realizes Dean’s returned. Music is coming from the boys’ bedroom, spilling down the hall. As he gets closer he can make out the grunts and moans just barely heard over the hard rock. The door is cracked, just a few inches, but it’s enough for John to see inside. He’s expecting to find Dean and some girl, anticipating ribbing Dean for bringing a girl back here. But instead he forgets to breathe when he puts together the scene in his head. Dean’s alone - alone except for the dildo he’s got in his ass. His knees are bent, feet flat on the bed, with a pillow under his hips. And he’s got ahold of his cock with one hand and the handle of the dildo with the other.
John blinks slowly, sweat slowly dripping down his face, as he watches Dean pull the dildo slowly out. It’s shiny - coated with lube - and Dean’s ass is shiny and red as it stretches around it. John lets out a soft groan when Dean slams it back home, rocking his hips and thrusting up into his fist.
The noise alerts Dean to his presence. And again, like the last time John’d caught him, Dean doesn’t stop. He locks eyes with John, green eyes burning with lust, as he continues to get himself off.
This time John knows Dean calls out for him as he comes. He watches Dean’s lips form around “Dad”. Listens as Dean’s fucked out hoarse voice spills his name. And he watches as Dean shoves the dildo in that final time and bucks up into his fist - come shooting out in streams to cover his hand and stomach. He watches as the flush of Dean’s orgasm goes right through him.
He walks out and doesn’t speak to Dean for three days.
Age 21
Dean’s been hitting the bars hard for the last few weeks. He’s freshly 21 and has been taking full advantage. Sam’s taken to sleeping in the Impala’s backseat rather than deal with Dean and his conquests. And god knows Sam would rather ruin his back then ask John for the spare bed in his room.
Sam didn’t bother to tell John that Dean has been preferring older men with scruffy beards and rough hands to pretty little blondes with dimples.
John came home from the bar early exactly one month after Dean’s twenty-first. He was only a little shocked that Dean had already left - presumably back at their dingy hotel with yet another one night stand. John feels a little guilty - a little dirty - as he too heads back. He knows if he hurries he’ll be able to hear Dean’s pants and moans through the crappy walls. John doesn’t like to admit that he enjoys jerking off to the soundtrack of his eldest son fucking.
So when John pushes open the door to his own hotel room, his hand already fumbling with his belt to release his half-hard cock, he’s surprised enough to stop moving all together. Dean’s naked, sweat-slick skin glistening in the low lighting of the room, while he lies on John’s unmade bed. The smell of sex is strong. And John immediately thinks he’s accidentally gotten into the boys’ room. A quick glance up at the number on the door only confuses him further, because Dean’s the one in the wrong room. He catches distant voices from behind him and he fully steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. No one needs to see Dean like this. It doesn’t even occur to John that he could have just as easily backed out and left Dean alone.
Dean’s watching him, jade eyes sparkling with lust and mischief. And John feels like he’s missing something - stepped into the conversation halfway through. Dean doesn’t talk though, just slowly draws up his legs, knees pressing tight into his chest, and John can see the dildo nestled firmly in his ass, its fake balls keeping it from slipping inside. Dean’s dick is half-hard and shiny as it lies against his thigh. And John realizes Dean’s already gotten off in his bed. And Dean doesn’t move, just stays in his curled up position, arms holding up his legs, and waits.
And suddenly it all makes sense. The casual touches, the muttered and sometimes deliberate comments, and this. God help him, he shouldn’t want this, shouldn’t be getting hard staring at his son’s hole clenching around that fake cock. His feet are moving without his knowledge. His jacket slips off with the soft rustle of leather.
He stops at the foot of the bed, his hands trembling slightly and his breath coming in short, sharp pants. Dean watches him, licking his lips, eyes daring him. John breaks eye contact - he just can’t make himself look into Dean’s eyes while he starts this.
John puts one knee up on the bed and rubs his suddenly sweating palms down his jeans. He leans over Dean, taking in the lean body below him.
“Tell me I’m not wrong. Tell me you want this,” John breaths out, searching out the truth on Dean’s face.
“Thought you’d never figure it out,” Dean grumbles, his arms starting to shake from holding up his legs.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t,” Dean answers.
John stares at him for a few more moments before nodding to himself. He gently tugs on Dean’s knee, and Dean lets his legs down, feet flat on the mattress, knees bent. Dean’s cock is starting to take interest again and is almost fully erect.
John figures its now or never so he kneels on the bed inbetween Dean’s legs and reaches out for the dildo. It’s a hard black rubber and cool to the touch - nothing like the real thing. He gives it a small tug and a few inches of it slide out of Dean. He watches as Dean’s hole stretches out - almost like it doesn’t want the dildo to leave his body. Dean moans low in his throat when John pushes it all the way back in and twists it. His hips flex up, driving it in just a little deeper.
“More,” Dean growls out.
John puts one hand on Dean’s hip, hand sliding around for a moment before finding purchase, and he pulls the dildo almost all the way out, leaving only the head. The thing is massive and John’s shocked that Dean’s managed to take it. But Dean did this for him, Dean wants John to do this, and John’s not going to stop now. He shoves it back in, sending Dean’s body rocking with the thrust, and Dean keens. The noise makes John hesitate for a second before one of Dean’s hands snakes down to grip his cock and he starts to jerk himself off.
Satisfied that Dean’s okay, John continues. He pulls the dildo back out and shoves it back in, varying the thrusts and adding twisting variations here and there. Dean’s grunting, growling out filth, taunting John as sweat runs down his face. John knows Dean’s close, can feel the fine tremors in his legs and watches as his stomach clenches.
“Come for me, boy,” John finally whispers, voice thick with lust and rough from the late hour.
Dean tenses up at the words, his hand hurriedly sliding up and down his cock, and then he’s coming - coming all over his own hand and onto his stomach. John keeps fucking him through it until Dean releases his own cock and his body goes slack.
John’s hard, harder than he can ever remember being, and he frantically fumbles with his belt, carefully pulling his zipper down over his straining erection. It only takes a few quick strokes before he’s coming, his come coating the fake balls pressed up against Dean’s ass. He works himself through his climax, keeps going until it’s almost too painful, and only then does he stop.
It takes a few moments for John to get his bearings back. For his breathing to stop coming out in harsh pants and return to normal. His heart is still hammering in his chest and his body is still trembling with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He looks down at Dean, all fucked out and covered in come, and Dean offers him a tired, satisfied smile. John knows he should feel guilty, should feel dirty, bad, wrong, but he can’t - not while Dean’s genuinely smiling for the first time in ages.