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13 July 2014 @ 06:21 pm
Knockdown: Part 3  


Knockdown: Part 3

DAY FOUR

Dean was busy cooking their breakfast when Sam held up a pair of pink and white polka dot panties. Dean smirked. “Are you wearing those today?” he asked.

Sam shook his head. “Nope. You are.”

Dean grinned, taking the panties from Sam and shoving them in the pocket of his jeans. “The eggs are gonna burn if I put them on now. Gimme a minute.”

“Okay,” Sam said, then sat down at the table, pulling a small package out of the bag from the sex shop. “Don't turn around yet.”

“Okay,” Dean said.

Sam opened the package and started blowing up the sex doll. He heard Dean chuckling and figured Dean had figured out what it was without looking. He was done blowing up the doll by the time Dean scooped the last of the food onto the plates. He set the doll down on one of the beds, then sat back down at the table.

Dean set the plates down on the table, then stripped and changed into the panties without being asked. He moaned as he pulled them up and over his cock, which was already half hard.

“These feel really good,” Dean commented.

Sam didn't really pay much attention to the breakfast, though he did thank Dean for the food. He was too busy looking at Dean's panties and thinking about what he was about to make Dean do.

“Don't bother cleaning up,” Sam said as they finished breakfast.

Dean grinned. “What have you got in mind?” he asked.

Sam stood up, making his way to the bed. “Come over here,” he said, looking over his shoulder at Dean.

“Yes, sir,” Dean said with a smirk.

He pointed at the doll. “I'm going to watch while you fuck it.”

Dean took another look at the doll. “It's see-through,” he said.

“Yeah, so I can see your cock inside it,” Sam said with a grin.

Dean let out a dirty chuckle. “Kinky, dude.”

Sam chuckled as he dropped himself down onto the second bed. He pulled his cock out of his jeans and got comfortable, his back against the headboard. “There's lube on the bedside table. Lube her up and start on your hands and knees.”

Dean started to pull the panties down, then looked up at Sam. “On or off?”

“Leave them on,” Sam said.

Dean nodded, pulling his cock out over the waistband of the panties and slicking it up. He climbed onto the bed and rubbed the tip of his cock over the doll's pussy. “Anything special, or do you just wanna see me fucking it?”

“Start fucking it and I'll let you know if I want you to do something different,” Sam said, slowly stroking his cock.

Dean pushed his dick into the doll and frowned. “Yeah, so this isn't as fun as a real pussy,” he complained.

Sam snorted. “That's probably why people are still fucking each other instead of dolls.”

Dean grimaced as he fucked it, not realizing how hot he looked. Sam's cock twitched in his hand as he watched Dean's cock through the plastic, Dean's panties bunching up under his dick and balls.

“You're enjoying this, right?” Dean asked, a sour look on his face. “Because if you're not, there's no way in Hell I'm gonna stay hard.”

Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I'm enjoying it,” he said, waving his very hard cock around for Dean to see.

“Okay,” deans said, disappointment in his tone of voice. “I don't suppose you'd help me out by sharing with me exactly what makes this so hot for you, would ya?”

Sam thought about it for a moment, the nodded. “Okay. First of all, the panties are fuckin' hot.”

Dean grinned, looking down as if he'd just remembered he was wearing them. “Yeah? They feel pretty nice too.”

Sam looked Dean in the eye, a realization hitting him square in the face. Dean had told him plenty of times, made it very clear that he got off on his partner's pleasure, and though Sam did believe him, he hadn't realized the true depth of it.

Dean had his cock in a slick hole, he was wearing panties, which obviously turned him on otherwise, and it didn't seem to mean much until Dean found out Sam was getting off on it.

“The pink looks really good against your skin,” Sam continued, deciding to just go with it. “The lace trim is so pretty. And your ass looks amazing.”

Dean grinned, fucking the doll a little faster.

Sam's eyes were drawn to Dean's cock. “Watching you with that doll, watching your dick moving inside it feels like I'm watching something nobody's seen before. It's like I'm watching you fuck a chick without anything keeping me from watching the way your cock slides around inside her pussy.”

Dean's grin fell a little, but the way he moaned told Sam it wasn't because he was unhappy with what Sam had said.

“Look down,” Sam said, nodding at the doll. “Watch your cock moving inside her. Change the angle and fuck her slower.”

Dean did as he was told. “Fuck,” he breathed, then looked up at Sam again. “Okay, so it's a little hot.”

Sam snorted. “Yeah, a little.”

“Ya know,” Dean drawled, his hips coming to a stop, “she's got a mouth.”

“Yup, she does,” Sam said, fully aware of what Dean wanted, but waiting for him to ask.

Dean glanced down at Sam's dick and he licked his lips. “Would you fuck her mouth while I fuck her pussy?” he asked.

Sam nodded and stood up, dropping his jeans to the floor and climbing on the bed. He straddled the doll's head, facing Dean, and lubed his cock.

“Would you ever consider doing this with a real chick?” Dean asked as Sam pushed his cock into the doll's mouth.

“Yeah,” Sam said with a nod, watching his cock slide into the doll.

“Fuck, that is hot,” Dean said, eyes on Sam's cock.

Sam chuckled. “Yeah.”

“Wanna race?” Dean asked, a grin on his face.

Sam chuckled again. “What does the winner get?”

“Whoever comes last gets a full body massage including happy ending by the one who shot off first,” Dean said.

Sam nodded. “Okay, go,” he said, grabbing the doll's head and fucking her fast.

Dean did the same with the doll's hips and the two fucked the doll hard enough that Sam could feel the doll jerking around him, which only made it better. He kept his eyes on Dean's dick poking around inside the doll, glancing up at Dean's panties every few strokes.

Sam smiled even as he moaned and fucked the doll because it almost felt like every other time they'd competed for something. It was comfortable and easy to be with Dean, even when things had gone to Hell, literally and figuratively, over the years. Sure, they'd fought, they'd said and done horrible things, but it always came back to easy. Sam didn't think most people had someone like that, someone who made being around them so natural, so right.

“Sam, c'mon!” Dean whined. “You're sitting there thinking about baseball or something, aren't you!?” he accused, a frown on his face even as he panted, fucking the doll.

Sam shook his head. “Nope. I'm thinking about you.”

“Aww, that's sweet,” Dean teased.

Sam tilted the doll's head back a little so he could get a better angle and fucked her faster. “Ah, shit,” he hissed, the change in position making it even better.

“Fuck, Sam-ah! Sammy!” Dean growled as his hips lost their rhythm and he came inside the doll.

Sam's jaw dropped and he panted, watching Dean coat the insides of the doll, Dean's dick sliding through the mess as he came down from his orgasm.

“So fuckin' hot,” Sam grunted, fucking the doll so hard she was squeaking and possibly close to popping.

Sam came inside the doll, his eyes on Dean, who was staring at Sam's cock, still inside the doll. Dean finally looked up at Sam, a grin on his face.

“I won,” he said smugly.

Sam snorted. “Yeah, you did.”

“When do I get my massage with the happy ending?” Dean asked.

Sam pulled out of the doll, grimacing when he saw the mess inside the doll. It wasn't nearly as hot when it was cooling inside a plastic sex doll.

“Tonight,” Sam said. “We've got a job to do today, so I'll do it after we get back and we've had something to eat.”

“Deal,” Dean said, pulling out of the doll and getting off the bed. “Do you want the first shower?”

“No, you can go first,” Sam said, dropping back onto his ass and leaning against the headboard.

“Cool,” Dean said, already heading for the bathroom.

Sam ran his hands over his face, wondering when teaching Dean humility had turned into nothing but sex.

*

Dean was a heavy weight along his right side, not asleep yet, but not fully awake either. After digging up three separate graves, the massage had relaxed Dean's muscles, and the orgasm had left him sated and ready for sleep.

But Sam's brain wouldn't shut down. He only had three more days left. He had no idea if he was doing the right thing. Larissa hadn't called again, but would she really know if he was helping? He turned his head, rubbing his chin over the top of Dean's head, Dean's hair tickling his neck.

If this wasn't working, Sam needed to know. He needed to figure it out and save Dean. If Dean died, after everything they'd both done, the lives they'd saved, how was that fair? Life wasn't fair, but he wanted his brother alive, damn it.

Fuck it. He had to do something.

“Are you sorry for any of the things you've done in your life?” Sam whispered. They'd had plenty of late-night conversations. It was usually a time when Dean's defenses were down, which meant he'd tolerate questions and things being shared that he never would in the light of day.

“What d'you mean?” Dean mumbled, moving his right leg over Sam's.

“Do you have regrets?” Sam asked. “I don't mean over things like wishing you'd done something else with your life. I mean are there things you'd do differently if you had them to do over again?”

“Yeah,” Dean said, shrugging against Sam. “But everybody feels that way.”

“Like what?” Sam asked, hoping he wasn't pressing too hard.

Dean sighed. “A lot of shit.”

“Name one,” Sam said.

“If I could do it over, I'd punch Kenny Miller,” Dean said.

Sam snorted. “Yeah, but you didn't do it because you knew Dad would've been pissed.”

“It would've been worth it,” Dean said. “Fuckin' little asshole deserved it. Who knows. Maybe it would've made him a better person if someone would've stood up to him.”

Sam kept his mouth shut, hoping Dean would continue, but instead they both just held onto each other in silence. He decided he needed to push a little more.

“I wish I would've told Jess about my visions,” Sam said softly.

Dean let out a grunt. “You know how I'm always teasing you about being a girl and bringing up feelings and shit?”

Sam frowned. He'd pushed too far. “Yeah, sorry,” he said.

“No, I wasn't complaining,” Dean said. “I'm explaining.”

“Oh, okay. Go ahead,” Sam said.

“I don't dwell on shit like that,” Dean said.

“You don't fall asleep to some of the things you've done, wishing you could change them?” Sam asked.

“No,” Dean said. “If I did, I'd never get out of bed the next morning.”

Sam's stomach clenched. “What do you mean?”

“I mean fucked-up shit happens,” Dean said. “You do the best you can with the information you have at the time, but you can't always do the right thing, or even the least horrible thing. That's life. I learned that a long time ago.”

“From Dad?” Sam asked, a small twinge of annoyance in his voice even though he tried to suppress it.

“Kind of,” Dean said, “but not in the way that you think. I watched him lose himself to mom's murderer. So focused on that one demon that all the other things he killed, they were just collateral damage.”

“I never thought of it like that,” Sam said. “I thought he just was out to kill everything remotely evil.”

“When you left for Stanford, we both kinda lost it for a while,” Dean said. “We got drunk, a lot. Dad tends to talk about deeper shit when he wakes up with a hangover.”

Sam snorted. “Sorry.”

Dean huffed out a laugh. “Yeah, well, I'm not. It's the reason I didn't turn into him.”

“Oh,” Sam said.

“Mom was his world,” Dean continued. “Well, mom and us. And when she was killed, his world was torn to shreds, and we were the only thing left of that world. He devoted himself to two things. He kept his kids safe from the things that go bump in the night, training us to be soldiers because he was so scared out of his mind that he'd lose us too. The second thing he devoted himself to was finding the thing that killed mom so he could kill it himself.”

Sam could barely breathe. He was so worried he'd say or do something that would break the spell and Dean would stop talking.

“That kind of devotion to revenge kills you from the inside out,” Dean said, sad tone to his voice. “I watched him rot before my eyes, and I decided I wasn't going to do that.”

“So why are you a hunter?” Sam asked.

“It's not the hunting that did it,” Dean said. “It was because he let it get to him. He could only feel the pain. He wasn't out there saving people. He was killing on the way to the thing that killed Mom. If people were saved, it was a bonus, but it wasn't why he hunted.”

“But he brought us up telling us...,” Sam started, but was cut off by Dean.

“I said it,” Dean said.

“Huh?”

“I told you it was the family business because that's what I thought Dad was doing,” Dean said. “Dad never said that. Do you ever remember him saying those words?”

“Uhm, I guess not,” Sam said.

“He did the best he could,” Dean whispered. “Mom's death fucked him up, but he loved us. I never doubted that. Never doubted that he'd sacrifice everything for the two of us. He knew what was lurking out there, waiting to hurt us.”

Sam's chest felt tight. Even after everything they'd been through, a part of him still felt the sting of being a teenager and wanting to strike out on his own, wanting to be normal and being told he wasn't to come back if he walked out that door. He'd never considered that his dad was scared, that those words were said by a man who was fully aware of everything that could hurt his children and was lashing out because he'd no longer be able to protect one of his kids.”

“When you left for Stanford, dad rambled on and on about stopping the demon that killed mom,” Dean said, “like an obsession, like once he did that everything else would be right in the world and you'd be safe, like the job was over once that happened.”

“I knew it was an obsession,” Sam said, “but I never thought he'd stop once he found the one that killed Mom.”

“Yeah,” Dean said, “and I never stopped telling you we were saving people, hunting things because that's what it should be about, otherwise hunting will chew you up and spit you out. And that's why I don't wallow in my regrets and my mistakes. I can't. If I let myself do that, I'd have eaten a bullet a long time ago.”

Sam's breath caught in his chest. “Once you start thinking about it, you'll go down so far you'll never come back up again,” he said softly, finally seeing everything about his father and brother differently.

“Yeah,” Dean said. “I can't help anybody if that happens. And yeah, I've done some stupid shit, and I'll do stupid shit in the future, but I have to focus on the people I've helped, keep fighting for what Dad should've fought for.”

“So...,” Sam started, pausing because he wasn't sure if he could ask without getting pissed at Dean, even with everything Dean had just said. “Would you change things if you could go back and do the right thing for Amy?”

Dean tensed, his head coming up off Sam's shoulder. He looked Sam in the eye. “You can decide to never forgive me for it if you want, but I did what I thought I needed to do with the information I had at the time. She's another thing I don't dwell on. I can't. I'm not going to fight with you over it because it's already done. There's nothing I can do to change it.”

Sam worked at keeping himself calm, keeping his voice level. “But what about the next time?” he asked softly.

Dean scoffed. “You wanna bring up shit? You wanna drag up shit that I keep out of my head so I don't lose myself to this? Okay. The reason I killed her was because while you were at Stanford I let a kitsune go because she convinced me that she and her little girl didn't hurt people. Ask me how many people she and her adorable little girl killed before Dad put her down,” he said fiercely, his eyes welling up with tears.

Sam sighed. “Dean, it-”

“Ask. Me,” Dean growled.

Sam's eyes widened. “How many?” he asked softly.

“Thirty four,” Dean hissed.

Sam stared up at Dean, unsure he'd ever be able to breathe again. Dean reached up and wiped at his face angrily.

“I learned from my mistake,” Dean said. “Don't even assume I don't learn from my mistakes just because I choose to dwell on better things. I know it hurt you when I killed her, and I'm really sorry that life hurts, but I didn't do it to hurt you or to fuck with your life. I did it because I learned the hard way, like I usually do, that not everyone is what they seem, including Jason Williams.”

Sam tried to keep up with what Dean was saying. He frowned, searching his memory for the name. “The kid Kenny used to beat up?” he asked.

“Dad and I put Jason down two years after we moved away from Akron, but not before he ate Kenny and his entire family,” Dean growled.

“Oh,” Sam said, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“You've been trying to teach me a lesson over the last few days,” Dean said. “I know you think I don't give a shit and somehow you're going to make me see the light, but I've already been there, done that, got the emotional scars to show for it.”

“So why are you doing it?” Sam asked.

“Because I know what really matters,” Dean said, his lips twitching into a small smile. “If I have to follow you around on my hands and knees for a week, doing everything you say, it's worth it if it means you think I give a damn and realize you're important to me.”

“Focusing on what matters,” Sam said, mostly to himself as he ran his hands over his face.

“Now you're getting it,” Dean said.

“So when you killed Anna,” Sam said, dropping his hands down on the bed again.

“It's just one more thing I've learned from and one more thing I shove into a box so I don't dwell on it,” Dean said. “She got the jump on me, I reacted, and if it would've happened any other way, she probably wouldn't have died, but that's the way it happened. There's nothing I can do about it but move on and try to save the next person. I can only do my best.”

“Okay,” Sam said.

“Really okay?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded. “Yeah.”

Dean put his head back down on Sam's shoulder, the sound of the crickets outside loud in the silence of the room. Dean fell asleep shortly after they'd stopped talking, but it took a long time for Sam to drift off.

DAY FIVE

“Hey, Sam,” Larissa chirped in his ear.

Sam stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of their motel room, closing the door behind him, the sounds of Dean singing in the shower muffled.

“Hey, Larissa,” Sam said.

“How's it going?” she asked.

Sam didn't know what to say. He'd thought about it the whole time he was unable to fall asleep, but he still couldn't come up with anything to say.

“What's wrong?” she asked.

“What if...,” Sam started, then shook his head, chuckling at himself. “What if he was already humble and it was a mistake?”

Larissa sighed. “Fuck,” she whispered. “Really?”

Sam nodded even though she couldn't see him. “Really.”

“I'm not sure,” she said. “Did you ask him about it? You didn't tell him about the curse, did you?”

“No, I know I can't,” Sam said. “I was talking to him last night, asking him about other things he's done, and the way he was talking, the way he deals with shit, it makes sense. It's a fucked up answer for you, considering what happened, but when really bad shit happens, he locks it away and moves on, otherwise he said he'd eat a bullet.”

“Fuck,” she whispered again.

“I asked him specifically about Anna,” Sam admitted, “but I didn't say anything about the curse. He said it really was a mistake. She got the jump on him and he killed her in self-defense, not because he thought she was evil.”

“He regrets it?” she asked, her voice a little shaky.

“In his own way, yes,” Sam said.

“And you know this for sure?” she asked.

Sam sighed. “We both watched our dad destroy himself from the inside out on a quest for revenge. Dean refused to do that to himself. He focuses on the people he saves, all the things he's done for people because losing that focus would kill him.”

Larissa sniffled. “I wish I could tell you this cancels out the curse, like it never happened, but I just don't know. At the time I thought he was a bigoted asshole. My curse was specific, but it was meant for someone who thought they'd done the right thing, too stubborn to see they'd been wrong.”

“So you don't know what's going to happen?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “I'm sorry, but I don't.”

“We just have to wait it out?” Sam asked. “Can't you just take the curse off him?”

“I could, but anytime you do something like that, you run the risk of the whole thing backfiring and doing something even worse,” Larissa said.

“Is there anything I can do?” he asked.

Larissa groaned. “There is, but if we do this and it goes sideways, it's gonna be bad. Really bad.”

“Tell me,” Sam insisted.

DAY SIX

“You're not going to tell me where we're going?” Dean asked for the tenth time, grumbling in the passenger seat of the Impala.

Sam rolled his eyes. “You'll find out when we get there,” he said as he made a right turn into a parking lot.

Dean groaned. “Are you getting more ginger for my ass?” he asked with a frown.

Sam snorted. “Get out and come into the shop with me. Try to keep from pissing off the owner of the shop.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said as he got out of the car.

The bell over the door rang as they stepped inside, Sam first in case the owner wasn't really all that happy with Dean being in his shop.

“Welcome,” the man behind the counter said, a smile on his face. “Feel free to look around. Don't be shy.”

“Mark?” Sam said as he made his way to the counter.

“Sam?” Mark said, his smile falling a little.

“Yes, sir,” Sam said, holding out his hand.

Mark shook his hand, then turned to look at Dean. “I'm assuming this is Dean.”

“Hey,” Dean said by way of a greeting, nodding at the guy.

“Mark is a white witch,” Sam said.

Dean grimaced, but managed to stand still. “Nice to meet you.”

“Mark is going to do something to do you, but you can't ask why for reasons,” Sam said, a look on his face that hopefully told Dean he was really fucking serious.

Dean's eyes widened, then he nodded. “Okay. Do I need to get naked for this?” he asked with a smirk.

Mark shook his head. “That's not necessary,” he said as he came out from behind the counter, a small bag in his left hand. He lit some incense on the counter, then turned to Dean. “Stick out your tongue.”

Dean frowned, sending a look Sam's way that said 'I'm only doing this because I trust you.' Sam nodded and Dean winced, but he stuck his tongue out.

Mark opened the small paper bag and reached into it. When he pulled his hand out, there was a globe of something green and wet on the end of his finger. He reached up and wiped his finger off on Dean's tongue, then picked up the incense from the counter and waved it around Dean as Dean made a gagging noise and groaned, his mouth open as if there was no way in Hell he was going to pull his tongue back into his mouth.

“Swallow,” Mark said, nodding at Dean's tongue.

Dean let out a whine, but did as he was told. Sam watched closely, waiting for any kind of reaction beside Dean's groans of disgust. He didn't have to wait long. Dean's face turned red, he leaned forward, and then he threw up all over Mark's shoes and the floor between them.

Mark looked mildly surprised, but he set the incense down and offered Dean a rag to wipe his mouth. “I suppose I should've expected that. I forget that most people don't eat anything good for them.”

“Huh?” Dean moaned, wiping his mouth with the rag.

“That was a cleansing paste,” Mark said as he held up the paper bag. “Most of the people who walk into my store could swallow it without any sort of reaction, but I'm assuming you frequent fast food restaurants.”

Dean snorted. “Yeah.”

“That stuff isn't good for you,” Mark said with a frown.

“Thanks,” Dean snarled.

“You might want to stick close to a toilet for the rest of the day as that works through your system,” Mark said with a wince.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean grumbled.

Sam ignored Dean, instead turning to Mark. “So that's it?”

Mark nodded. “His aura looks fine and he didn't die,” he said with a smile.

“What?” Dean yelped.

Sam winced. “Thank you, Mark,” he said as he grabbed Dean's forearm. “Sorry about the mess.”

“It's not a problem,” Mark said, waving a hand at them. “Go. Enjoy life.”

“Thank you!” Sam said, a weight lifting from his shoulders as he pulled Dean through the front door.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean asked, trying to pull away from Sam.

“You didn't die,” Sam said, a big smile on his face. “You get to drive,” he said as he handed Dean the keys.

“Are you going to explain or just let me “enjoy life” today?” Dean asked, his eyes wide.

DAY SEVEN

Even though Dean had lived through the cleansing that Larissa swore would kill him if the curse was still in effect, Sam held Dean tightly as hour one-hundred sixty-seven of the curse ended and Dean was still alive, safely wrapped in his arms.

“So we still get to have sex, right?” Dean asked, squirming in Sam's arms. “You know, like celebratory sex for me not dying and all?”

Sam looked at the clock again, just in case, then smiled at Dean. “Yeah, tons of it.”

“Awesome,” Dean said, grinding against Sam as best he could given the fact Sam was wrapped around him like an octopus.

Sam's phone rang, and when he saw who is was, he grabbed it and answered it, putting in on speaker. “He's alive!” Sam said.

“Yay!” Larissa squealed into the phone. “Thank you for not dying, Dean.”

Dean snorted. “Uhm, you're welcome,” he said. “Thank you for using such a specific curse and not just killing me.”

“I've never hurt anyone with my magic before,” she said. “And I don't intend to in the future. I want you to know that.”

“Just be careful,” Dean said. “It's tempting, but if you're strong, which I think you are, you'll stick to your promise.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“I really am sorry for the way things happened,” Dean said. “I know that doesn't mean much to you, but you deserve an apology, and I never gave you one.”

“It does mean a lot to me,” Larissa said. “It gives me some closure and gives me a little bit of hope that people can do the right thing even when you think the worst of them. Nothing's going to bring her back, but at least I can rest assured you're not out there killing things and people just because of your preconceived notions.”

“Thank you, Larissa,” Sam said. “You have our numbers. If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call.”

“I will,” she said. “Bye, guys.”

“Bye,” Sam said, then set the phone on the nightstand. He looked down at Dean, reassuring himself that Dean was still alive.

Dean chuckled, then started flat out laughing, wiping at his eyes because he was laughing so hard.

“What's so funny?” Sam asked.

“Only you would make me walk around in nothing but a sexy nightie to teach me humility, you know that?” Dean said, still laughing.

“Like you could've done better,” Sam grumbled, frowning.

“Aww, don't get mad, Sammy,” Dean said as if talking to a baby.

“You're an asshole,” Sam said with a grin, shamelessly snuggling even closer.

“I love you too,” Dean drawled.

Sam rolled his eyes, then put his head down on Dean's chest, listening to his heartbeat, basking in the warmth coming from him, the evidence that his brother was still alive and here with him. He decided to hold onto him until Dean managed to get out of the tight embrace. Dean would tease him about being a girl, but it was worth it.

End
 
 
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Somersomer on August 4th, 2014 07:47 pm (UTC)
Holy fucking cow on a hot pogo stick!! ALL THE KINKS!! Loved it. HUMPING!! And the puppy-play, and Sam watching Dean as he jerks off at the table. CROSSDRESSING!!

Loved it :D
Mayalaenmayalaen on August 6th, 2014 06:14 am (UTC)
Thank you! The OP I wrote it for shares a lot of my kinks, so this fic worked out well, I was able to indulge :)

Glad you liked it!