Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/4291197.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/John_Winchester
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, John_Winchester, Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Father/Son_Incest, Child_Abuse, Sexual_Abuse, Emotional/Psychological
      Abuse, Extremely_Underage, Shota_Dean, Verbal_Humiliation, John_is_a
      piece_of_shit, Blow_Jobs, Face-Fucking, Anal_Sex, Unsafe_Sex, Top_John,
      Bottom_Dean, Pain, Angry_Sex, Rough_Sex, Size_Difference, no_prep
      whatsoever, Crying, Fear, Creampie, John_uses_Dean_as_his_personal
      fuckhole, Dean_puts_on_a_brave_face, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot,
      Derogatory_Language
  Stats:
      Published: 2015-07-09 Words: 1090
****** let go of your anger ******
by LilMysterios
Summary
     Sometimes John comes home pissed off at the world, and on these days
     he takes it out on Dean, fucking him into the mattress until he feels
     better.
Notes
     As usual, everything is in the tags and warnings, and you should
     really stay away from this fic if any of the tags seems out of your
     comfort zone... but if you feel like some are missing, don't hesitate
     telling me and I'll be happy to fix it.
     Also, for those of you who want to know, I obviously don't condone
     this kind of behavior in real life, and you should never think
     otherwise. Seriously, people. This is just fantasy.
     Enjoy your reading!
See the end of the work for more notes
As usual, Dean knows something is wrong as soon as his father comes home.
John slams to door behind him, stomping inside as he takes his coat off,
expression stormy, and goes into the kitchen.
Dean knows better than to move, so he sits still on his bed, listening to the
sound of the fridge door opening and closing, the psshht of a beer bottle
uncapped. 
When John comes back into the room, he immediately drops on the one chair
available in the motel room, taking a swig of his beer.
"Hi dad," risks Dean, eyes wide open in nervous fear. "Did you have a good
day?"
John turns to him, cold gaze boring into his son's.
"Do I ask how your day went?" he spits out aggressively. Then, with a mean
look, "Get over here."
Dean feels a shudder run over his spine, and he gulps.
"I... dad, I have homework to do, I shouldn't--"
"Do I look like I give a shit? I said get over here, and get on your knees, you
slut."
Dean closes his textbook and scrambles off the bed, walking slowly to his
father, but before he can fall to his knees between the other man's legs, John
suddenly grabs a handful of his son's hair, gripping it tightly enough that
Dean lets out a yelp, and shakes cruelly the sandy blond head.
"Do you still think I care about what you want, boy?" he roars. "Do you think I
need your permission to use you in any way I wish? I don't, you little fuck, so
shut your whore mouth and get on your knees."
He lets go of Dean and the boy almost falls on a heap on the floor but catches
himself, not wanting to be the object of more punishment.
Skull stinging from the pain, Dean swiftly unbuckles his father's belt,
unzipping the fly and taking out the half-hard cock.
"And make it good, you dumb cunt," orders John.
Dean nods, leaning down to lick at the shaft, stroking the flesh with trembling
little hands, bringing to full mast as fast as he can; John doesn’t even look
at him, just wait for his son to do as he was told.
When it's fully hard Dean starts sucking in earnest, bobbing up and down as he
takes in his mouth as much of his father's cock as he can without choking...
only John doesn't seem satisfied with only a third of his cock sucked, for he
suddenly grabs his son's head and starts fucking his mouth ruthlessly.
"Yeah that's better," he says as his hips work furiously, "finally you're
shutting up... that's really all you're good for, be a good fuckhole to use and
wreck."
Dean chokes and gags, the huge dick sliding deep into his throat, but he does
his very best to stay still and let his father use him, pliant and supple as
drool starts coating his chin and tears well up in his eyes.
John ignores his discomfort, chasing ecstasy in his son's throat, but soon
slows down to a stop.
"I don't want to look at your face while I'm using you, cumwhore," he spits
out, hate dripping of his voice. "On the bed, all fours."
Dean, slightly dizzy after being deprived of a sufficient air supply for so
long, gets up on wobbly legs and goes to settle on the bed, shedding clothes on
the way so that he's naked when he bends over the edge of the bed.
The air is cool against his skin, his little hole twitching nervously, and then
there's a rough hand palming his ass, kneading the flesh.
"You're so lucky you've got such a tight ass," John grits out, "because being
fucked is really all you're good for..."
He spits in his hand, and Dean can hear the distinctive sound of his father
covering his angry-red cock with saliva, hand rough and impatient... and then,
without any warning whatsoever, John forces Dean's head deeper into the
mattress, lines up and sinks in.
The pain is as it always is, burning, a cruel, deep ache that makes Dean's
breath hitch and splutter ; John doesn't care about prep, and so the boy can
feel every inch of his father's huge, thick dick, splitting him apart as he is
slowly but relentlessly speared open.
Of course, immediately after bottoming out John starts fucking him earnest,
ramming his son's hole like it's his job, hips smacking the boy's tender ass at
every violent thrust, and Dean is shaken like a ragdoll, limp and powerless,
every time his dad's hips snap forward.
"That's right," John is growling, "take it like the whore you are... because
that's all you are, my little fuckhole to use and destroy whenever I feel like
it..."
Dean can feel tears roll down his cheeks, but he is used to this; not even a
whimper escapes his mouth as he takes his pounding silently, secret sobs
swelling his chest.
John keeps taking his pleasure from his son, cock wrecking the tight entrance
mercilessly, and it's several endless minutes of intense pain and humiliation
for Dean until his father is coming, suddenly groaning as he shoots his load
deep inside the boy... Dean can feel the sticky wetness splashing his insides,
and he wants to scream but he just waits, waits until John pulls out
carelessly, waits until John stands up and tucks himself back in his jeans.
"I'm going to the pub," John growls. "Dinner better be ready when I get back."
And with that, he's gone.
Dean slowly gets up and goes to clean himself up; he splashes water on his face
and wipes his come-stained hole, feeling wrong and ashamed as he carefully
erases every evidence of his father's passage on his body, but every gesture is
still precise and efficient... Sam can't see anything when he comes home, Dean
has to make sure of it.
Dean then goes in the kitchen to make some dinner, and when Sammy opens the
door he is welcomed by a cheerful hello and a genuine, if a little unnecessary,
offer of help to do his homework... after all, Dean thinks proudly, Sam is a
genius.
Sam doesn’t notice anything weird, but then he never does; he simply asks
what's for dinner, and makes an adorable, pouty little face when Dean tells him
it won't be before another half an hour.
Dean really hopes John won't come back too late from the pub; it's always so
much worse when he's drunk...
End Notes
     Since this wasn't beta'd and English isn't my first language, I'd be
     very happy if you could tell me of any mistake you found during your
     reading... sometimes I check it so many times I can't even see
     obvious errors in the text. :(
     And if you liked it anyway, you can always leave a comment... those
     just make my day. ^^
     Thanks, and see you soon!
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