barefoot

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/26138290.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply
Category: M/M
Fandom: Supernatural
Relationship: Kevin Tran/Sam Winchester
Characters: Sam Winchester, Kevin Tran
Additional Tags: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Top Sam Winchester, Alpha Sam
Winchester, Bottom Kevin Tran, Omega Kevin Tran, Size Difference,
Barebacking, Pregnancy Kink, Pregnant Sex, Domestic Bliss
Language: English
Series: Part 24 of spn kink bingo 2020
Collections: SPN Kink Bingo 2020
Stats: Published: 2020-08-27 Words: 1,320 Chapters: 1/1
 barefoot
by hellhoundsprey

Summary

“I love it. How big you are.”

spn kink bingo square 08: pregnancy kink

The scent is what’ll make him cry, ultimately. When it will vanish from their home, when it
will be just a faint memory.

Sam closes the door behind him as quietly as he can. Slips out of his sneakers and tiptoes into
the living room—nobody’s here. He makes quick work of stowing away the groceries, gives
Hera a quick pet and cuddle before he gestures at her to be quiet, “Shh,” and makes his very
noiseless way over to the bedroom. Hera follows in blind love, tail wagging and all.

The TV is still running with the volume down low and Kevin’s sprawled careless and heavy,
absolutely out for the count, and Sam has the heart to turn off whatever colorful anime
Kevin’s tried to escape reality from while his alpha was out, working.

Sam crawls atop the bed as carefully as any six-feet-four two hundred pound guy possibly
can.

So, Kevin inevitably stirs awake. Sam presses a kiss to his cheek.

“Hey. Hmm.”

Sam grins. “Hey.” More kisses. Kevin wrinkles his nose, yawns.

“What time is it?”

“Seven.”

“Oh, God.” Kevin allows himself to be kissed on the mouth, huffs. “I was out, like, half the
day.”

“Poor baby.”

Kevin jokes, “Gotta get it while I still can, huh,” and Sam nods, snuggles in to push a hand
down the covers, run it over the immense swell of that belly.

“She been giving you trouble?”

Kevin shakes his head, soft and stubborn. Still sleepy and so fucking warm, fuck. “A true
angel.”

“Weird. You sure she’s mine?”

“Duh. Have you seen me? I’m a fat fucking hippo.” Sam gets his face grabbed, gets his
mouth kissed. Smiles, stupid, hopeless. “Your giant baby, no fucking doubts.”

“I love it. How big you are.” Kevin makes a dismissive noise. “No, really. How is this not the
hottest thing you’ve ever seen?” Sam makes a show out of spanning his admittedly giant
hand over Kevin’s even bigger belly. Proud, “I put that there,” and maybe Kev smells him
getting hard or he just genuinely means it when he tells him, “You’re such a freak,” but Sam
kisses him again nevertheless.
Gets his face cupped by those tiny-tiny hands and Kevin smells like him, their bond, their
bed, their baby. Like the milk he’s getting ready, all the hormones fucking him up like crazy
and yeah Sam’s a freak all right, but who fucking cares?

Honest, “I missed you,” and Kevin groans and Sam rubs at the swell of that belly and then
lower, and his omega makes a faint noise like he maybe wants to tell him off, complain about
himself being fat and disgusting and too heavy to move but of course Sam finds him wet, as
per usual these days. A proxy. Sam’s mouth waters.

Kev mumbles, “Sam,” muffled against Sam’s mouth and tongue and with Sam slipping two
huge fingers up his ass, easily, slick and waiting for him, always.

“This okay?” and Kev makes a face, scrunched little nose and his freshly buzzed hair looks
so adorable on him, makes him appear slightly less rounded at least around the face and he
announces once more, “Freak,” but hikes his little leg higher, just a tad, just as far as it will
go with the new dimensions his body has blown up to these past couple of months.

Sam gets a hold of a tit and squeezes, and Kev whines sweet, already clenching and breathing
heavy and Sam could just whip his dick out and get it in there, no fight, no hesitation. Not
that Kev could deny him, heavy and helpless as he is right now.

Just another two weeks, max. Things will be so different, then. Maybe Sam’ll change his
mind once reality with a newborn settles in, but right now, all he can think about is knocking
his mate up again right away, as soon as fucking possible.

Neither of them ever truly cared about these stereotypical (as Kevin calls them: archaic)
archetypes of the barefoot and pregnant omega, the strong working alpha. And Kev doesn’t
exactly appear too happy, at least not now in the last stretch of his term where he’s basically
unable to walk with how heavy he is with Sam’s child, but he’s fickle by nature anyway,
complains just for the sake of it (Sam might be conditioning him, so blame it on him). And,
Sam won’t tire of reminding him how: in the heat of a moment or five, he had agreed. That
he wanted more, more of this, these months of growing Sam’s baby and his body changing
and forming and accepting and God, Sam, I can’t stop, I’m so fucking horny all the time, is
this normal, should I talk to my doc about this, is this bad for the baby?

Kev slurs, “Fuck me,” like Sam’s paying him, like he’s a stray little thing Sam picked out of
the gutter and promised to take care of; as if it hadn’t been the other way around. Sam’s
banging him out on three fingers and worms out of his jeans, finally, his head right here all
day, with his mate, his nest, and finally he’s back, fucking finally. “Fuck, get in me, come
on…!”

Sam’s O whimpers like he’s a virgin again all over. Like Sam forcing into him is impossible,
like it won’t fit, like it’s a struggle. And, yeah, it kinda is.

Still so small, with the huge belly bearing down on him, but he’s so fucking wet, so slick and
open like he’s heated and Sam bottoms out with a harsh slam of his hips, a whine from Kev,
the entire blood-throb line of his cock buried in those pink-perfect guts, held and milked on
and Kev keeps cursing, keeps mumbling sweet nothings while Sam starts giving it to him
rough and fast, like they both need it.
Hera eventually leaves, upset by the creak of the bed, the rising voice of the omega.

Sam’s sweat flies freely; he can’t lean down as far as he wants, not with Kev’s belly in the
way. Bumps into it with every move and doesn’t warn Kev of his knot. Kev startles once he
feels it, though, tries to kick his legs and Sam holds him down with the most pitiful amount
of strength and growls fucking satisfied once his knot catches, finally, and Kevin sobs,
overwhelmed, and Sam grits, “Yeah, yeah, baby, come on,” because he can feel it, oh, he can.

Sam’s omega seizes underneath him, hard. As hard as he can with the added weight of his
pregnancy, clamps down on Sam’s cock so hard Sam’s truly gotta dig his knees into the
mattress to grind both of them through it, rock deep and deeper to make it good, make it
blackout-worthy and yeah Kev truly splutters like he’s about to pass out, shaking and still
coming and sobbing honest tears, crying for more, don’t fucking stop, don’t you dare fucking
stop right now you asshole.

Once the worst is over, Sam detangles himself from his mate’s arms far enough that he can sit
back on his haunches, cup both hands over Kev’s belly while he keeps rolling his hips, absent
and deep and Kev’s soaked, head to toe, his little sleep shirt (it’s NOT a dress, Sam) all
ruined and pushed up under his pits, his chin, and his poor little legs are splayed wide and
open, just for Sam, Sam’s hunger, Sam’s knot and child.

“Fuck.” Sam groans, wipes his flat palm across his face. Feels Kev interlacing their fingers
atop his stomach. “Let’s, uhm, let’s—I can reach my phone, I think. Order out. Fuck it.”

Weak, wrecked: “Pasta?”

“Whatever you want, babe.”

“Pasta.”

“You got it.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.” Sam leans down to kiss Kevin’s waiting, wet mouth. Adds, “Both of you,”
and Kevin chuckles all groggy, all destroyed.
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