There’s no way.

Half in disbelief, half in curiosity, Dean clicks on the video link: ‘Testing out my new toy ;)’

His breath catches in his throat as he stares at the loading circle, the screen temporarily black. It’s his last chance to turn back, to continue in ignorance and be able to look you in the eyes again. There was no way it was you, but a deep eagerness made him stay on the page. 

Dean starts abruptly when the video begins. A small intro tune and a title card with some cutesy star name that he refused to commit to memory, like he did with other stars he enjoyed. If this was you, he’d rather forget it all.

The person backs from the camera setup, smiling innocently into the lens, and Dean’s blood runs cold. 

Shit.

From the second he saw your face he was hooked. He willed for the strength to click away, to pause the video at the very least, but Dean couldn't. Disbelief flooded his expression despite a growing tightness in his abdomen, stirring as he watched on. You wasted no time, turning away from the camera and walking toward the ‘new toy’ mentioned in the title - a girthy, purple dildo was suctioned to the hard floor, a small bottle of lubricant sitting nearby. A towel was laid out next to you, two pillows from the head of your bed instead cushion your knees from the cold, rough floor. 

“Fuck,” Dean curses himself, his hand instinctively rushing to adjust his boxers. 

As if you’d heard him, you looked back into the camera, ensuring you were in frame for the perfect shot. You lean forward, the small skirt from the thumbnail riding past your ass, revealing your sex to the audience, a skimpy thong the only thing between Dean and heaven’s gate. 

You hook your finger on your thong and tug it to the side. Dean lets out a soft groan as you spread your folds for the shot, tracing your entrance with your middle finger, before dipping it inside. You stifle a moan, barely audible, a noise that he’d never before heard in these walls. 

Your slick coats your fingers when you pull them away. Fuck, you probably didn’t even need the lube - Dean chuckled to himself, you probably really got off on this. Didn’t you know that this could’ve happened eventually? Maybe you simply didn’t care if he’d found it. It didn't take away from the embarrassment, this invasion of your privacy.

Dean’s hand slips into his boxers, gripping the base of his cock warily before moving. Though guilt panged in his stomach, it eased away as he began with slow, smooth strokes.

What you don’t know won’t hurt you, right?

It was reason enough. You had thrown Dean enough flirtations for him to question if there was substance to them. He had never hidden the fact that he thought you were special. Hell, he'd let you sit shotgun in Baby instead of Sam, much to his younger brother’s protests.  

You ease the dildo past your entrance, sucking in a breath before pressing yourself lower, carefully adjusting yourself to the toy's size. Onscreen, your pussy spreads wide for him. Dean slowly pumps himself in time with your movements, his cock throbbing in his palm. His eyes flit between your ass and your face, your expression changing to ecstasy as you inch lower and lower down the dildo’s length. Leaning forward, with your chest against the cold floor, you bounce yourself into a steady pace. 

Dean just wished that you would just make some sort of noise. He’d never watched a video so quiet, save for the wet noises coming from your cunt. Another realization both stilled and excited him. 

Was he home when you filmed this?

It would explain the silence, maybe you were just shy in the bedroom...

Nonetheless he itched for more, stroking himself in time with you, picturing anything close to the real thing. He’d never know what the girls in these videos are like up close, but this time, it bothered him. How could you be so close, yet untouchable? 

“Aah, fuuuuuck,” you whisper. Music to his ears. 

You finally urge yourself down the dildo’s full length, the base of it spreading your hole wide for the camera. Dean swipes his thumb over the swollen head of his cock, spreading a new bead of precome along his shaft. He pictured himself there instead, putting his cock there in place of that pesky purple toy. Minutes before, he couldn’t have ever imagined seeing you like this, but now, it could never be the same. 

In the video, almost pitifully, you try to pick up your pace. The pleasure takes you over, stopping you from keeping your speed. Each time you cave into the bliss, you lurch forward and tease yourself with a few small strokes, barely at your entrance. Dean picks up the slack on the other side of the computer screen, avidly pumping his cock as he watches your pussy twitch around the dildo. Teasing yourself with the toy’s head is enough to send Dean reeling. You come back down for a few final, deep strokes, before the video abruptly stops, cutting to a still screen, promoting another site for the ‘full video’. 

Dean’s hand slows as his high pauses. Frantically, he hastily rewinds the video back a few minutes, taking everything in for a second time. He was so close, it was too late to find another video, you were all he could focus on. You had been such a help to him, and you didn’t even know it yet. 

For a second round, you bob along the dildo’s length. Dean braves himself to turn up the volume for just a moment. Your noises quietly fill his room, stirring in his mind while he brings himself to the edge of his pleasure. With a strained groan, Dean’s cock twitches as his come leaks into the fabric of his boxers; he milks himself thoroughly, his eyes never leaving the sight of your pussy. In his leveling breaths, Dean stretches his boxers to look at the mess inside, throwing his head back and letting out a breathy laugh. 

Your video keeps playing in the background while Dean hastily cleans himself off with a tissue. His thoughts race, mulling over the fact that he would, at some point, have to look you in the eyes again. He just hoped he could hide it well enough when that happened. 

He tosses the tissue into his garbage can, throwing a few more atop it for good measure. He stands fully, bracing his hands to his lower back as he stretched, debating a nightcap to cool off. 

Padding down the long hallway to the kitchen, Dean made a beeline to the fridge, reaching in for the familiar, cold glass of a beer. In the distance, someone clears their throat, his hand halts on the neck of the bottle while he listens out for you. His gut tightens with shame. His conscience had been right, there really was no way he could look at you the same way, and that was all his fault. Dean prayed you wouldn’t be able to see it in his eyes. 

In a moment of resolve, Dean grips the beer bottle and lets the fridge close as quietly as possible, making his way out as quickly as he’d come in. He urges himself down the hallway, looking dead ahead before your voice shakes him. 

“Night, Dean,” you say after him, your tone softly upbeat. 

He looks to you from the side, giving a terse smile. Your head cocks to the side in confusion as he speeds down the hallway back to his room. Odd. 

You mutter, “What’s his deal?”

Hi lovelies, I know a story has been looooong overdue. I appreciate your patience and support during my unofficial hiatus. I'm getting back into the swing of writing again, and I have plans for more parts of this story if you're looking for more. I kept hitting this brick wall with trying to write Sam, so the Dean lovers get their juice today

Asks/requests are open as always.

Much love,