[Supernatural] "Man Gets Used To A Lot of Things..." (PG-13)
Author's Note: Written for 
fic_promptly's Supernatural, Sam/Dean, Dean came back from hell with a new kink (author's choice, so long's it makes sense in context) Implied weird things that happened to Dean during his time in hell, as well as discussion of Stockholm Syndrome and demon sex.
Over the years, Sam had gotten used to Dean bringing company back to the motel, and he had learned to ignore them as he passed through, averting his gaze, or avoiding the room entirely, spending his night sleeping in another empty motel room or the back seat of the Impala if the motel had no vacant rooms. But ever since Dean had returned from the grave, Sam noticed he'd picked up a few odd habits with his partners. Some of it he got: the time he found Dean tied to the foot board being flogged, albeit by a willing if puzzled partner. Anyone who had endured the kind of torment Dean likely had, would probably have developed some form of Stockholm Syndrome that could well translate into odd habits and practices.
But others puzzled him: more than once, he came back to the motel to find Dean with a pregnant woman, a different one in each town they stayed in. Understandable, since pregnant women sometimes got especially hot to trot, as the saying goes, but why would Dean go for them?
"What's with the expecting ladies?" Sam asked one morning, over breakfast, finally no longer able to hold back his curiosity.
"Just providing my manly services to a lonely lady," Dean said, cheerily, tucking into a stack of waffles. "Callie, that gal last night? Her man's in Afghanistan, his second tour. Didn't want her to be alone."
"Dean, there are sex toys that can help that situation," Sam replied patiently. "And I thought you said pregnant ladies weird you out? 'Alien' comparisons came in to the conversation."
"Turned out to be a case of 'Don't knock it till you try it'," Dean said, shoving a forkful of waffle bits into his mouth and chewing.
Sam sighed, partly unsatisfied, partly glad to end the conversation at least for the moment.
Until Dean brought it up as they tooled along the highway, on their way to the next job. "Okay, in case you were wondering, I got a thing for pregnant ladies now. Or pregnant.... things."
"Pregnant things?" Sam asked, not sure what direction this conversation would take and not sure he wanted to go there.
"Succubae, incubi, it's the way they reproduce," Dean said, keeping his eyes on the road. "The Succys collect the spooge from guys, then they shapeshift into Inckys and drop the sperm in the women they seduce. Don't always drop off the load: sometimes they share the fun among themselves. Make little demons that way. Succys get horny, sometimes they'd come to me. Sorta stuff they'd do grew on me after a while."
Sam looked at Dean, not sure whether to feel weirded out, concerned or if he should simply take this as another Dean thing. "Dean, that sounds seriously like Stockholm Syndrome to me," he said, concerned.
Dean sighed patiently. "Sammy, you telling me I need a shrink? Ain't gonna happen: I'm back and I'm putting all that behind in my own time. Is it so wrong that I got a few new tricks in the toy box?"
Sam opened his mouth to object, then glanced away with a sigh. "Whatever works for you, Dean."
"Y'don't sound too thrilled about it, Sammy," Dean said, glancing at Sam
"One more thing I guess I'll have to get used to," Sam admitted. "It wouldn't be fair to ...your choice of a date to keep it out here in the car," he added, glancing into the back seat.
"Tried it once: ain't the most comfortable way to help a lady get happy," Dean said, with a wince and a roll of his eyes.
fic_promptly's Supernatural, Sam/Dean, Dean came back from hell with a new kink (author's choice, so long's it makes sense in context) Implied weird things that happened to Dean during his time in hell, as well as discussion of Stockholm Syndrome and demon sex.
Over the years, Sam had gotten used to Dean bringing company back to the motel, and he had learned to ignore them as he passed through, averting his gaze, or avoiding the room entirely, spending his night sleeping in another empty motel room or the back seat of the Impala if the motel had no vacant rooms. But ever since Dean had returned from the grave, Sam noticed he'd picked up a few odd habits with his partners. Some of it he got: the time he found Dean tied to the foot board being flogged, albeit by a willing if puzzled partner. Anyone who had endured the kind of torment Dean likely had, would probably have developed some form of Stockholm Syndrome that could well translate into odd habits and practices.
But others puzzled him: more than once, he came back to the motel to find Dean with a pregnant woman, a different one in each town they stayed in. Understandable, since pregnant women sometimes got especially hot to trot, as the saying goes, but why would Dean go for them?
"What's with the expecting ladies?" Sam asked one morning, over breakfast, finally no longer able to hold back his curiosity.
"Just providing my manly services to a lonely lady," Dean said, cheerily, tucking into a stack of waffles. "Callie, that gal last night? Her man's in Afghanistan, his second tour. Didn't want her to be alone."
"Dean, there are sex toys that can help that situation," Sam replied patiently. "And I thought you said pregnant ladies weird you out? 'Alien' comparisons came in to the conversation."
"Turned out to be a case of 'Don't knock it till you try it'," Dean said, shoving a forkful of waffle bits into his mouth and chewing.
Sam sighed, partly unsatisfied, partly glad to end the conversation at least for the moment.
Until Dean brought it up as they tooled along the highway, on their way to the next job. "Okay, in case you were wondering, I got a thing for pregnant ladies now. Or pregnant.... things."
"Pregnant things?" Sam asked, not sure what direction this conversation would take and not sure he wanted to go there.
"Succubae, incubi, it's the way they reproduce," Dean said, keeping his eyes on the road. "The Succys collect the spooge from guys, then they shapeshift into Inckys and drop the sperm in the women they seduce. Don't always drop off the load: sometimes they share the fun among themselves. Make little demons that way. Succys get horny, sometimes they'd come to me. Sorta stuff they'd do grew on me after a while."
Sam looked at Dean, not sure whether to feel weirded out, concerned or if he should simply take this as another Dean thing. "Dean, that sounds seriously like Stockholm Syndrome to me," he said, concerned.
Dean sighed patiently. "Sammy, you telling me I need a shrink? Ain't gonna happen: I'm back and I'm putting all that behind in my own time. Is it so wrong that I got a few new tricks in the toy box?"
Sam opened his mouth to object, then glanced away with a sigh. "Whatever works for you, Dean."
"Y'don't sound too thrilled about it, Sammy," Dean said, glancing at Sam
"One more thing I guess I'll have to get used to," Sam admitted. "It wouldn't be fair to ...your choice of a date to keep it out here in the car," he added, glancing into the back seat.
"Tried it once: ain't the most comfortable way to help a lady get happy," Dean said, with a wince and a roll of his eyes.