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No, but like...

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No but like, Sam and Dean doing their thing in a motel room, and Dean is balls deep in Sammy with Sam’s hands tied to the corners of the bed frame, and the door is kicked in and it’s frickin’ vampires come to take revenge on the Winchesters for taking out most of their nest, and Sam’s so startled he clamps down on Dean’s cock in his ass, and Dean, who was about to jump off, gives a squeak because he’s so startled by Sam’s ass-kung-fu-grip, and he falls back, and now Sam squeaks, because Dean’s dick pulled out of his ass at an awkward angle and stretched his rim in a shockingly painful way, and Dean’s fallen off the bed onto his back, buck naked, ass in the air, revealing the end of the big chrome plug Sam had worked up there before Dean tied him down, and Sam’s tugging to free himself, but he can’t, and he yells, “Dean!” and yanks furiously on his restraints, but all he does is pull the entire damn bed away from the wall, his giant cock bobbing with the effort.

And the two vamps fall over laughing, and laugh so hard tears of blood stream down their cheeks, laugh so hard the bigger one doesn’t even see Dean stalk toward them, strong thighs a few inches wider apart because of the thick base of the butt plug, in a sort of gay John Wayne swagger, and the other one sees and points at Dean and fucking HOWLS with laughter but by that time Dean’s decapitated the first one and has the machete plunging towards his neck. “Winchesters,” he wheezes, sick with laughter, and the knife drives home.