nsfw drabbles saved 2

stardustingskywalkers
Castiel sitting on Sam’s face, hands planted on either side of Sam’s body to try and hold himself up, head dipped so that his chin is nearly touching his chest.  Sam’s had him like this for what seems likes hours, Castiel straddling his chest backwards, Sam’s fingers holding him apart.  The thing is, Sam’s made no effort to push him off and fuck him - at this point he’s just eating Cas out to listen to him moan and goddamn if Cas doesn’t fucking sing with Sam’s tongue tracing slowly around the edge of his hole


The thing is that they never mean to break furniture - it just sort of happens.
That and Castiel is just the right size for Sam to lift and hold up, Cas’s heels digging into the small of his back as he holds him against the wall and fucks him hard and deep, Cas’s wings swept out to either side and Grace arcing across his feathers, blue iridescent sparks that burn when they hit Sam’s skin but it’s so fucking worth it, the way that Cas swears and moans in seven different languages every time Sam’s cock nails him in the prostate, the room around them a complete and total wreck by the time Sam fucks Cas’s third orgasm in a row out of him. 


Sometimes they don’t always make it to a bed - any flat surface just has to do when they’re in the moment, those times when they simply can’t get enough of each other, need to feel the other’s skin against each other.
Sam tries to be mindful of what he puts Dean on before he fucks him (which isn’t always easy given Dean’s constant stream of dirty talk right in his ear) because after all if something breaks under them it’s Dean who’s going to suffer the most (not that he notices much else with Sam’s cock in his ass to begin with.)
It finally happens, some run down little motel in Arkansas, the only place in town and Sam’s just getting started, Dean’s legs wrapped around his back and his fingers in Sam’s hair, kissing him deep when the table gives completely, snapping in two and taking them with it, the air leaving Dean’s lungs in a loud grunt as Sam lands hard on top of him.
Sam’s not in the least bit surprised when Dean just elbows aside the broken pieces and guides Sam back to his hole and resumes kissing him, Sam checking them for injuries only after he’s fucked two very loud orgasms out of Dean, right there amidst the ruined table.


Dean’s not a small guy, not in the least - but Sam isn’t in the least bit deterred, not when Dean’s done such a good job of playing him and getting him achingly hard - Sam will just lift him bodily, legs slotting into the grooves of Sam’s waist and sliding down on his cock, hole slicked and ready by Sam’s torturously sweet prepping, his back just barely touching the wall behind him as Sam’s hips hammer upwards, teeth sunk deep into Dean’s bared neck.


Sam has no qualms about the taste of come - he’s been giving Dean blowjobs for a long time now and he’s been tasting his own as long as he can remember.
But his favorite way to have it on his tongue is after he’s fucked it deep into Dean and then licking it out of him, tiling Dean’s hips up and then listening to him mewl as his tongue scoops the taste out, watching Dean’s face as he touches his overstimulated hole, Dean’s cheeks damp with sweat and tears of pleasure and by the time Sam’s done he’s rock hard again, begging Sam to fuck him once more.


I SHOULD JUST HIDE IN BED, BUT NO. I GOTTA GO READ ABOUT THESE “OTHER THINGS”. *cries*
THe OTHER THINGS
like Dean using so much lube the first time he fingers Sam that he’s almost sliding in it, and Sam chuckling because of the mess but Dean is so fucking nervous cause he doesn’t wanna hurt him and he treats every moment like it’s precious, watching him carefully, mentally recording all the small signs of discomfort Sam shows so they’re never repeated, smiling softly when he makes Sam moan and lift his hips off the bed, when he makes him press his hips down on Dean’s hand inviting him to go deeper


I just…

Sam and Castiel grinding against the other in fed suits. And they’re so damn tactile and aggressively making out: biting each other’s lips, specifically the corner of Sam’s top lip because it’s sensitive and it makes him jump Castiel, like full on jump him, wrap his legs around his waist, and Castiel just lets it happen because he’s strong enough to hold onto him. They wind up on the floor with Castiel rolling his hips into Sam methodically, well timed enough to make Sam even wilder. He’s a sweating mess by the time Castiel nips his ear lobe and pants ‘agent’ into his ear.


Normally by the time they’re done with foreplay Dean’s positively leaking precome, the head of his cock shiny wet with it, foreskin spreading it even further as Sam pulls it back before sealing his lips around Dean and tonguing at the slit, one of Dean’s hands in Sam’s hair and the other clawing at the mattress, even more blurting out when Sam flips him over and eats him out, a long, thick string of it connecting the end of his cock with the sheets below him, Sam moving down every now and then to lick the salty mess up and then kissing Dean to share the taste with him.


With his legs thrown over Sam’s bare shoulders, Castiel’s body curls so he can tangle his hands in Sam’s hair, mouth open to sing and whimper, mostly the latter but there’s a very fine line between the two that he often crosses without realizing it. It’s all music to Sam regardless, all soft and rounded like Castiel’s ass cheeks dappled with bruises, all red whole and half and quarter notes like the teeth marks on his pecs. Sam likes to think of himself as a composer some nights. Which key will he play in? Something melancholy? Energetic? The minor chords usually have to do with his arms and back, but major chords deal with his stomach and the back of his knees and, of course, his neck for obvious reasons.

Whatever way Sam decides to play doesn’t matter though because he’ll get Castiel to sing the way he likes. 


Castiel kissing Sam’s cock to tease him, foreskin bunching and loosening in his grip, going slower and slower until his fingers are sticky with precome, blue eyes flashing up at Sam as he licks the long vein on the underside, tracing it all the way up to the frenulum and staying there, Sam’s back arching prettily as he pulls against his restraints, every cut of muscle on his body standing out as Cas pushes him that much further, seeing how long he can get Sam on that razor thin edge before he’s pulled over one side.


Sam and Castiel have watched plenty of porn together - sure the positions aren’t quite as intimate as they normally are but even Sam isn’t going to deny the fact that Cas absolutely pounding into him from behind with what could only be described as brutal force and his head pulled back, all of his hair bunched in Cas’s fist doesn’t feel incredible, all of his sensation focused on those two points, cock hard and leaking steadily every time he feels Cas’s hips smack against his skin.


Sam shaking with near oversensitivity as he fucks Castiel slowly, Cas’s ass pushed up, two perfect globes that Sam absolutely cannot get enough of, so fucking tight that Sam has no choice but to pace himself, hair falling over his eyes as he grits his teeth and buries himself back in Cas’s body, crying out when he comes less than two minutes later, forehead resting against Cas’s right shoulder and catching his breath before trying again.


okay but imagine how much dean probably loved running his hands through sam’s hair in s8 like most of the time he’d make fun of how long and stupid and fluffy it was but every time they were fucking he’d get them both off on just being able to get his hands in sam’s hair and pull and then afterwards he’d just lie there and pet it for hours and sam would laugh at him and dean would tell him to ‘shut up, bitch’ and fall asleep with a smile on his face and oh god help me im feeling


No but Sam and Cas being so passive with each other about sex. As in, making out and grinding against each other and really getting hot and bothered when Sam bites his way down Cas’s jaw and whispers in his ear, “What do you want?” Cas being totally ambivalent and just saying, “Whatever you want,” but Sam not caring either so they’re just kind of dragging on the foreplay as long as they can without admitting that it doesn’t matter how they do it so long as they do it. So finally Sam decides to just wrap his hand around them both and make their cocks drag against each other until it’s just too much.


Dean holding himself open for Sam, the tips of Sam’s puppy curls tickling his thighs and ass as Sam eats him out slowly, the first time he has since everything happened at Stanford, tongue and lips moving like he’s got a lot of time to make up for, growling into Dean’s skin and Dean’s cock throbbing every time the vibrations from Sam’s voice wash over him, Sam finally coming up for air and sliding two lube slick fingers into Dean, opening him up as he devours Dean’s mouth.


Sam bending Dean over the edge of their bed, fresh off a hunt and both of them thrumming with adrenaline, clothes littered from the doorway to the edge of the mattress, biting down on the nape of Dean’s neck as he teases the head of his cock over Dean’s hole, lube in one hand and the other underneath Dean, stroking his cock and listening to him groan, Dean’s pleas of “hurry up Sammy, fucking need you in me” slowly penetrating the fog of lust in Sam’s brain, both of them still sweaty and dirty from downing their target, smell of exertion and earth making them both even harder for each other, that first stretch and burn of Sam’s fingers opening him up making Dean’s toes curl so hard they’ll hurt later.


Sometimes they wake up and they know it’s just one of those days, one where they aren’t going to be able to keep their hands off of each other no matter how hard they try. Sam rolls over on top of Dean and rocks his naked body against Dean’s morning wood, leaning down and kissing him deeply, Dean’s cock rubbing against his ass, Sam having awakened rock hard and leaking, Dean’s hands everywhere on his body and trying to touch all of Sam at once, Sam reaching for the lube with one hand as Dean wraps his fingers around his cock, Sam prepping himself as quick as he can and ten minutes later they’re deep in it, Dean slamming his hips upwards into Sam, Sam with one hand on the headboard and the other on his cock, come spurting all over Dean’s chest and face.
Breakfast consists of sitting on the same side of the booth and rubbing each other through their jeans, Sam eventually dragging Dean to the bathroom and crowding him into the stall, unzipping them both and wrapping his hand around their cocks, after a moment slipping under each other’s foreskins and panting hard as they both come, shaking with over sensitivity as they break apart, lust only barely abated.
Their interview with the locals isn’t much of a distraction from each other, especially when Sam slips into interrogation mode and leans forward in his seat, only serving to draw Dean’s eyes to the long curve of his body and make the crotch of his pants bulge, the moment they’re finished pushing Sam to the back seat of the Impala and sucking him off, Sam returning the favor and getting come on his suit jacket as it dribble from his lips.
The salt and burn is done in record time, both of them sweaty and muscles bulging, the moment the corpse is aflame Sam pushing Dean against the metal of the Impala’s trunk and stripping them both from the waist down, slicking Dean up and himself up before pounding hard into him, Dean’s body sliding up every time Sam’s cock reams him, loud moans and exhalations of Sam’s name bouncing off the gravestones around them and only after the fire’s long died do they realize it’s almost sun up again, too busy getting lost in each other to even know and when they finally fall back into the motel bed they’re finally sated, Sam curling around Dean protectively and holding him as tight as ever.


Sam has indulged Castiel in a lot of fantasies, all of which he wound up enjoying, if he didn’t fully understand them.
This one though… god, Sam got hard just thinking about it.
The girl at the sex store had been the model of professionalism helping him pick it out, Sam pulling it up his legs and inspecting himself in the mirror, the lace trim at the edge just barely covering the lower curve of his ass - if he bent over the entire world would see it, save it was for one person only.
He was surprised they had them in his size, but they did - they went all the way up to his thighs, two white stripes at the top of each one that drew the eye right to his crotch, barely covered by material that at best could be described as flimsy. 
The finishing touch is dark blue eyeliner, matching that of Castiel’s pupils - Sam knows he can manage that just fine by himself, and his heart starts to pound as he hears Castiel open the door to the bathroom, taking a deep breath as he walks out to greet him.
Castiel’s jaw hits the floor, presented with Sam in a white flounce skirt and pink thigh high socks, blue eyeliner making his hazel-blue gaze pop all the more, contrasting with the beautifully sculpted muscles of his arms and torso that the angel finds to be all manner of arousing.
It’s a picture worth a million words, really, as Sam bends over the edge of the bed and wiggles his ass at Castiel, hole shaved and pink, breath hitching as Cas’s hair touches the edge of the skirt when he bends down to eat Sam out, Sam knowing that this….
was a very, very good idea.

Sam and Dean staying close together after they have sex, Dean still buried inside Sam as he holds their foreheads together because it’s always so perfect, so peaceful right afterwards, Sam gently rubbing one hand up and down Dean’s spine and the other running through Dean’s hair, soft lazy kisses that last as long as they want them to because absolutely no one can take this from them.


Sam trailing an ice cube over Dean’s body, Dean laying still and his breath hitching every time the cold edges run over a sensitive area, his nipples hardening and whimpering when the cold touches them, only for Sam to dive in a moment later and lick over them, the warmth of his mouth making Dean’s cock jump against his belly, Sam keeping up his sweet torture, flipping Dean over eventually and placing another ice cube between his teeth, moving it right down Dean’s spine to his hole, Dean shivering as he feels it over that tight heat, Sam humming against his body as he curls his tongue over him, cold and hot at the same time and making Dean’s heart skip a few beats.



Sam loves to be fucked bareback, loves to feel the flared head of Castiel’s cock inside him, moving against his sweet spot, slow, rolling thrusts of Cas’s hips, Cas leaning forward to press soft kisses to the back of his neck and down his spine, Sam drawing his head up and whispering “harder baby” against his lips, keeping Cas there as his hips snap forward over and over again until Sam feels come run down the back of his leg, his own cock wrapped in Cas’s hand, come streaked across the mattress all the way up to where Sam’s hands are.



No, think about this: amateur stripper’s night at some seedy club off the strip during Sam and Dean’s Vegas weekend. They both volunteer, egging each other on. Naturally, they’re both big hits, even if they’re both—Sam especially—a little shy and a little awkward, but they have endearing smiles and great bodies, so all is forgiven immediately. Afterwards, Sam and Dean shoving against each other backstage, pushing hands into skimpy little underwear, growling mine and yours against each other’s lips, because maybe it was fun to have everyone watching, but ultimately only they get to touch.



Sam bent forward over the table in the war room, his reading glasses askew and his hair a mess, swinging in time with each contraction of his body, each one more intense than the last, hands firmly planted as Dean eats him out, Sam’s attempts at translating the book in front of him long abandoned, shirt sticking to his back but not caring much because he’s far more interested in Dean’s tongue in his ass, wishing he could reach down and stroke his aching cock but of course Dean’s deadset on making him come untouched.
Which he does eventually, with one foot up on the table and Dean’s cock nailing his prostate on every stroke, Dean’s teeth sealed over the pulse point in his neck and biting down hard.


No but imagine what sixteen year old Sam’s face must have looked like the first time he felt his brother’s tongue on his hole, Sam all sweaty and flushed and moaning, lowering himself, resting his weight on his chest and knees so he can reach back with his hands to hold himself open even wider for Dean, Dean pulling back to press a kiss against Sam’s cheek, murmuring good, Sammy, feels good, right? Keep holding’ yourself open, gonna make you come, just like this.
Imagine Sam’s face the first time he came with only his brother’s tongue in his ass.


Sam has a thing for crossdressing. Not all the time, of course, but sometimes he just gets the urge, and there are a few rooms in the bunker with closets full of women’s clothing so he tells Dean to wait in his room because he has a surprise for him. And it’s not as if Dean doesn’t know exactly what Sam is into, but the moment his brother comes back, his jaw fucking drops. Sam’s somehow found the tightest, skimpiest little sparkly red dress that Dean has ever seen, and it’s hugging him in ways that are definitely not feminine but are still mouth watering, not to mention the silver heels that make his legs look fucking superband suddenly Dean can’t keep his hands off Sam, didn’t think he’d be as into this as Sam is but the sight of his little brother looking absolutely debauched beneath him, hair a tangled mess, colour high on his cheeks, dress hiked up to reveal lacey black panties is driving Dean absolutely crazy and he wonders how he ever thought this would be anything but awesome.


Dean grinds against Sam’s fully clothed body, his voice a low growl in his ear. “Probably got such a pretty cock underneath all these clothes, huh? Gonna show big brother your cock, Sammy? Gonna let ‘im touch it? Bet I could make it come. Make you all sticky. You’ll wake up tomorrow smelling like whiskey and sex. Shit - fuck, Sam - you come already? You’re all fuckin’ wet down there…fuck - shh, it’s okay. Big brother’s gonna take care of you.”


Sam wakes up to two things that first morning, the first being his husband (the term brings the dopiest, biggest smile ever to his face and he’s incredibly glad Dean’s not there to see it) tucked right up against his side and songbirds, the dulcet tones of nature a very gentle soundtrack to Sam’s eyes opening, the sun just past the horizon so they know it’s still early - they’d fallen asleep soon after getting there, not even unpacking much before Cas had yawned wide and crawled under the blankets, none of him visible save for a fuzzy shock of black hair - and Sam thinks that this as close to perfect as they’ve ever gotten.
It gets even better as Castiel comes awake a few moments later, rubbing himself against Sam’s thigh, some dream shaking from his memory as he opens his eyes to Sam’s naked chest, kissing his way up to Sam’s mouth and climbing on top of him, Sam kissing back and parting his legs, Cas mouthing “want you” against his lips before disappearing under the blankets, Sam’s body alight when he feels Castiel tug down his boxers and lick a wet stripe down from the end of his cock to his hole.
It’s beyond erotic like this, Sam not being able to see Cas, only feel, licking him open slowly, Sam’s knees twin peaks under the blankets where he’s got his legs spread wide so that Cas has as much access as he wants and he’s not sure how his husband (that smile again) got lube into the picture but he feels as Cas comes back up from under the blankets and slowly works him further open with two fingers, kissing him deeply as Sam licks the musk of his body from Cas’s mouth, Cas entering him without ever really breaking away, one fluid, unseen motion that leaves Sam very, very glad that Cas is what anyone else would call a smoothie - there’s never any awkwardness when they’re like this, a dance rehearsed and performed so many times now that they’ve got it down almost perfect, moving to the steady rhythm of each other’s heartbeats and crashing against each other twenty minutes later in a sated heap, the sunbeams moving up Cas’s back and warming him even further.


“Are you comfortable?” Dean murmurs in Sam’s ear, rocking up behind him, hand gently rubbing over his crotch.
Sam’s tense at first - but he slowly starts to relax with the touches. “Yeah,” he says gruffly. “Feels…feels good.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
Sam’s belly muscles contract. “Y-Yeah - that’s - I’d like that…”
“Okay,” Dean says, pressing his lips against Sam’s ear. “I just want to make sure you’re alright.”


Their honeymoon is in two parts.
The first part is the weekend they spend in their bedroom, hands on each other’s bodies, catching on muscle and hipbones and clothes that aren’t put on for at least twelve hours - it’s like the wedding rings have supercharged their sex drives and in Castiel’s case making him absolutely needy for Sam’s cock, Sam topping the ever living hell out of him in just about every way they can manage - against the door, Cas’s legs wrapped around Sam’s waist, in the chair, Cas rising and falling on Sam’s cock until he came so hard he screamed, the bed (which Sam fears they might have damaged) and even the shower, with some very,very careful maneuvering so that no one slips and falls - Sam’s never had so much sex so consistently in his life, and this is with dating Cas, whose sex drive outruns Sam’s ten to one.
Sam can’t complain though, not with his husband sprawled out and sated next to him, body covered in sweat and come, lube streaking his thighs, matching the shiny wet of it on Sam’s cock - Sam’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life.


Dean has no idea where Sam got the rope, but it doesn’t really matter when Dean’s arms spread wide, one tied to a side mirror and the other the lid to the gas tank. Sam is on his knees in front of him, his cheeks hollowed and eyes closed, head bobbing slowly, a sight Dean would never get tired of. He wants nothing more than to run his fingers through his brother’s soft hair, touch his lips where they’re stretched obscenely wide, but he can’t do that without hurting his baby. It’s a horrible, awful trade off that he knows Sam probably gets off on, but it’s difficult to be angry when Sam is moaning high in his throat, groping the bulge in his jeans like he’s about to cream them any second.

Sam never asked Castiel to use his Grace during sex, it just sort of happened one day, Sam getting the rimjob of his life when he feels something very warm against his skin, warm like the sun or the metal of the Impala on a hot day, the tendril moving through his body and making his eyes screw shut, trying to push himself back on Cas’s tongue and moaning, Cas looking up at the back of Sam’s head and tugging on his hips a little more to continue to make Sam fall apart.

In their line of work, Dean can’t really be surprised when tools of their trade find it into their… more intimate activities. They’ve messed with knives in bed, guns on one or two occasions but this… Dean got hard so fast that he nearly fainted.
Sam wasn’t even trying to turn him on, had just been wearing it out of convenience, the thigh holster currently strapped to his right leg hugging that pretty muscle like a vine, Dean having to wipe the drool from the corners of his mouth because it looks incredible and later when they fuck Dean rides Sam so that he can feel the strong cloth against his skin, rubbing his against his left calf as he rocks and rolls his hips, Sam’s cock buried balls deep as Dean goes crazy.


It’s not a power thing for Sam, it really isn’t when he tops Dean - he knows his brother is strong and macho and no lesser a man than when he’s on the bottom (or 90% of the time riding Sam) but even then Sam can’t help but enjoy the way Dean’s normally deep voice gets higher and higher every time his dick’s in him, needy whines and moans spilling from his lips like it’s the best damn thing in the world.  
And somewhere deep in Dean’s mind, that’s true.

sam and cas come downstairs at noon, mussed and smelling like sex. sam’s ready to deny everything in order to keep it as comfortable as possible, but after maybe ten seconds of silence, dean piling pancakes on their plates and very pointedly not asking what they’ve been up to, cas looks around like maybe he’s missed a memo.
sam shoves a bite of pancake in his mouth and looks up at the ceiling, willing it to be a little less awkward, and dean is intent on the contents of his coffee mug, sipping the black gunk as fast as the temperature will allow.
someone needs to break the silence. it’s smothering, how quiet it is.
“so, dean,” cas starts, casually cutting his pancakes into a grid. dean nods, gesturing for him to continue.
“your brother has an enormous penis.”
dean spits out his coffee and sam starts to choke on his pancake. they both pound their chests, halfway between wincing and laughing. cas squints as they calm down their histrionics.
as soon as it gets quiet again he mutters, “well it’s true.”


It took well over an hour of prep (and a couple days for the mold to set) but Dean thinks that this is about to more than worth it, Sam’s hole opened and relaxed as Dean slides the replica of his cock into Sam, Sam sucking on his bottom lip so that he doesn’t cry out, Dean pushing it all the way in before moving and sliding in next to it, soothing Sam with gentle “I got you Sammys” and soft kisses to his lips and neck, Sam shaking and his chest flushed red, feeling stretched wide but very full, Dean’s hands on his chest as he raises up and begins to move in and out, the friction almost too much for him, Sam holding onto his hips and whimpering every time the equivalent of two of Dean’s cocks hits his prostate, Dean going slow that he doesn’t overload him - this is new for both of them and Sam’s afraid he’s going to hurt in the morning but when he finally comes it’s more than worth it, Dean removing himself and the dildo as gently as possible and spending a long time afterward holding Sam close and bringing him down, telling him he looked absolutely beautiful when he came and that next time it’ll just be him, just Dean.


But Crowley calling Sam Dean’s wife, though.
No, but Sam and Dean doing domestic role play, both of them falling into the husband and wife role, and Sam takes the wife role because he knows Dean would object to it and Sam doesn’t really mind which roll he’d be in, but they fall into them and they really get into it.
At first, Dean would have to try hard to not laugh or roll his eyes when Sam would say, “hey, honey, how was your day?” but he’s come to really like Sam calling him pet names and he just comes up behind Sam one day and he’s wraps his arms around Sam, puts his chin on Sam’s shoulder.
And they just stand there, and grind a little bit, and Dean moving his mouth along Sam’s neck, and whispers, “I’ve always wanted to fuck my pretty wife over the table,” and Sam practically vibrates in his skin because he’s thought about this a lot more than he wants to admit.


I’mma need Sam coming into Dean’s shower and having a hot and heavy make out against the wall and Sam’s clothing getting all wet and hair in his face and Dean’s hands traveling all around Sam’s clothed body and growling, “take this off,” and they do it in the shower.


The water was hot, hotter than he could probably stand it. But it didn’t matter so long as it washed away the stench of the skeevy bar. He dipped his head back, ran a hand through his hair with a huff. He was tired, limbs loose with it and even looser with the booze that still coursed through his system. He ached for it and if the way his hands began to tremble were any indication it was probably time get it a rest for a little while.
Fat chance.
He dropped his hands and moved underneath the water, let it beat the tension of his shoulders and clog his ears. He still heard the flittering of the shower curtain anyway. He gritted his teeth, hands coming to brace himself against the shower wall. It has been months, though really it felt like years, but he knew this game like the back of his hand.
“Spread your legs, Dean.”
It was a demand, not a question and Dean’s legs spread easily – anxiously. God, he hasn’t been touched in months. 
“Good boy.” 


Dean scrapes his teeth down Sam’s stomach, looking up and giving him a feral smile before dipping his head between his thighs, scruff scraping against that smooth, soft skin. “You shaved,” he murmurs, running his hands all over Sam’s body, wanting to absolutely devour him.
Sam’s back arches off the bed, face warm and hair sticking to his forehead. “Just for you,” he pants out. “Wanted to know how that would feel on my skin.” He weakly gestures to Dean’s beard.
Dean licks his lips slowly. “I’m going to give you the best tongue-fucking of your life.”


Sam smiling when he sees the big wet patch on Dean’s underwear from Dean’s precome, having teased him all day and making Dean keep them on as he flips Dean over and starts to eat him out, the waist band tucked down underneath his ass and whimpering at the first lick of Sam’s tongue on his hole.


Sam stretched out in the front of the Impala, pulled off to the side of the road, jeans down around his knees and recording himself, one hand on his cock and the other keeping his phone steady, making sure that when he sends the video off Castiel gets a real good show, moaning his name and coming all the way up to his chin, panning up and over his body and blowing a come-sticky kiss at the lens and winking at the end.



stardustingskywalkersDean laying in the backseat of the Impala, one leg thrown up over the front seat and the other hanging out the door, fingers digging into worn leather as Sam fucks him slow and deep, the Appalachian mountains to one side as the sun sets behind Sam, not another car for miles around, Dean’s breath hitching and his eyes screwed shut as Sam takes his sweet time in fucking what Dean suspects will be a very, very good orgasm out of him.
waterbird13Dean wearing a pleated skirt and a little white top, lacy virginal-white panties underneath his skirt, skirt flipped up over his ass and panties pulled aside as Sam fucks him from behind, biting and sucking bruises into Dean’s neck, and Dean was right, Sam totally has a thing for fucking those good little library girls, and he’d be tormenting Sam about that fact if Sam’s dick wasn’t currently making him see stars.
stardustingskywalkersIt’s not often they get a cheap motel with a decent king sized bed but when they do they take full advantage of it.  Dean loves to lay Sam out on it and straddle Sam’s waist, Sam’s fingers playing up and down the curve of Dean’s back as he leans down to kiss him, Dean’s legs spread as he rocks back on Sam’s cock, buried deep inside him and whimpering softly into Sam’s mouth every time Sam raises his hips up to meet him.
stardustingskywalkersDean coming in from working on the Impala, Bobby gone for the day and it’s just he and Sam, covered in sweat and dirt and grease, hands nearly black with oil, taking a long pull from the bottle of beer Sam offers him, head tilted back and his throat bobbing - Sam can’t resist him, not when he’s oozing testosterone and masculinity and Sam rubs the front of his jeans, licks his lips and Dean gets the idea real fast, not even making it upstairs, Sam bending over the couch in the living room as his fingers dig into the worn fabric, the denim of Dean’s jeans scraping against the backs of his naked thighs as Dean’s cock slams into him over and over, Dean’s greasy hands gripping his neck and hair and Sam’s pretty sure he’s never come harder in his life.



stardustingskywalkersIt’s not often they get a cheap motel with a decent king sized bed but when they do they take full advantage of it.  Dean loves to lay Sam out on it and straddle Sam’s waist, Sam’s fingers playing up and down the curve of Dean’s back as he leans down to kiss him, Dean’s legs spread as he rocks back on Sam’s cock, buried deep inside him and whimpering softly into Sam’s mouth every time Sam raises his hips up to meet him.


waterbird13Dean wearing a pleated skirt and a little white top, lacy virginal-white panties underneath his skirt, skirt flipped up over his ass and panties pulled aside as Sam fucks him from behind, biting and sucking bruises into Dean’s neck, and Dean was right, Sam totally has a thing for fucking those good little library girls, and he’d be tormenting Sam about that fact if Sam’s dick wasn’t currently making him see stars.



stardustingskywalkersDean laying in the backseat of the Impala, one leg thrown up over the front seat and the other hanging out the door, fingers digging into worn leather as Sam fucks him slow and deep, the Appalachian mountains to one side as the sun sets behind Sam, not another car for miles around, Dean’s breath hitching and his eyes screwed shut as Sam takes his sweet time in fucking what Dean suspects will be a very, very good orgasm out of him. 

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