title here.

Feeling Campbell’s hands holding him in place every time he slid home shouldn’t have been such a turn-on, but paired with the desperate groans and hitches in the man’s voice… Dean couldn’t help groaning lightly around Campbell, forehead hitting his arm as he took the other man’s length into his throat again. He stayed still for longer every single time, knowing that he was being tested— and he could take it all for however long the other man wanted, no problem. Campbell sounded so fucking wrecked, his satisfaction more than obvious; it made Dean groan again, the sound catching in his throat as his tongue circled the head of his professor’s length. He could feel himself throb at the sound of that desperation, at knowing that he’d dragged the unmovable Professor Campbell— every co-ed’s untouchable schoolgirl fantasy— to sounding like that. 

The way that Dean kept him in his mouth for longer each time he slipped all the way in both surprised and impressed Sam. It was as if Dean knew that he was being tested and was determined to ace it with flying colors and, so far, he was. Another groan fell from his lips as the student’s tongue circled his head and his hips bucked involuntarily, his length slipping into Dean’s mouth again that only elicited another groan. Thank God that the university had invested in sound-proof walls because he was fairly certain that, if the walls were thinner, the class next door would be listening to the soundtrack featuring Sam’s glorious groans and, while it seemed to be music to Dean’s ears,, not everyone would agree with him. Dean looking up at him through his lashes and asking him if he wanted to come all over his face almost made him shoot his load right then and there but his hand quickly moved to hold the base of his cock, making sure he didn’t come too early (he wasn’t about to embarrass himself, come on now). “God, yeah, I am..” He nodded, his thumb stroking Dean’s cheek lightly as his tongue worked on his slit, the sensation making every nerve ending on his body ache in anticipation. “Fuck, Dean…” He trailed off, cut off by a groan as his tongue licked at the underside of his length.

Campbell sure did have a filthy mouth on him, something that Dean added to his mental list of surprising features— right up there with the abs and big dick. And fuck, if hearing the other man talk about bending him over and fucking him didn’t make him all that much more aware of just how damn tight his jeans were getting… Dean didn’t even attempt to offer up an answer, choosing instead to groan around the taste of Campbell in his mouth. He could make this good, he knew that— suspended his pride for a moment and let the man thrust into his mouth, welcoming the hot flesh with strokes of his tongue and the suction of his lips. You wanna fuck my mouth, huh? Wonder why. Dean would’ve smirked if his lips hadn’t been otherwise occupied, the heat in Campbell’s voice making him throb. Fuck, he was enjoying this more than he’d expected to; Dean groaned and lowered the hand that’d settled on Campbell’s thigh, palming himself roughly through his jeans as Campbell smoothed the head of his dick over his lips. 

Dean was sucking on his cock as if his life depended on it and he was enjoying this far too much. A long drawn-out moan fell from his lips when Dean groaned around his length, the vibrations making the sensation that much better. Staring down at the younger man servicing him on his knees, he bit his lip when he noticed his hand moving from his thigh to palm himself through his pants. Fuck, Dean was getting off on this. “God,” He muttered under his breath, his head falling back just slightly so that he could still see Dean perfectly (a priority at this point, really). “You’re getting off on this, huh?” He encouraged between breaths, his pace steadily increasing, as his thumb stroked Dean’s cheek. With his hand on his cheek, he could feel every movement in the other man’s mouth and that, along with the view, was goddamn beautiful.  “Fuck, you like sucking me off,  Winchester? Like to have those pretty lips of yours around my--” Before he could finish his thought, Dean let him go with a ‘pop’ and Sam groaned in frustration, his hips instantly bucking towards his hot mouth but pushed back firmly by the younger’s man forearm.

Dean’s hands fell to his sides as the warmth of Sam’s body left his lap, his eyes falling shut again. They were heavy, heavier than they’d been a minute ago— probably because of the way he’d let them fall shut for a little bit while he’d teased her, letting his other senses take over. Dean listened to the quiet rustle of clothing as Sam pulled something on and moved to the door, her irritation not bothering him for once. Usually her moods got under his skin— always had, since she’d been little and he’d always done his best to keep her smiling— but he felt a little detached as he listened to the quiet pad of her footsteps heading towards the door. Each step seemed too short and too long at the same time, which just left him frowning to himself and scooting back down to lay back properly on the bed. Yeah, the pillow was nicer than the headboard. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sam sighed, her frustration getting the better of her right now as she stared at Dean on his way to being fast asleep (within minutes) on the bed. The alcohol really did a number on him tonight, she thought to herself and leaned back against the door, her eyes falling shut. “Dammit, Dean.” She sighed again and licked her lips, recalling how fantastic his lips felt on her skin combined with his fingers inside her. Her hand found itself slipping under his t-shirt and rolling her nipple between her index finger and thumb, a small moan escaping her lips as she imagined that it was Dean’s finger instead. Still sensitive from his touches earlier, her hips bucked involuntarily and she groaned in annoyance at the fact that she was being forced to take matters into her own hands because he’d fucking fallen asleep on her.

Looked like Campbell was gonna be turning pushy pretty fast. Dean raised his brows at the other man but didn’t comment, offering no resistance when he felt Campbell’s hand cupping the back of his head and pulling him in. Truth be told, his gaze had been very appreciative when the other man had pulled his cock out— not something that happened often. Guys who’d been attractive enough to earn Dean’s interest had been few and far between, and the number that’d gotten him down his knees had been even smaller. (Though, to be fair, he’d liked them well enough that he’d blown each of them a good few times. A dick nice enough to make his mouth water was something that deserved appreciation.) Barely a touch and Campbell was moaning; it made the corners of Dean’s mouth quirk as he licked his lips, catching the salty taste of the precome on them. Mm, nice.

God, the sight of Dean’s tongue running over his lips to taste his precome almost made Sam come then and there but he forced himself to regain his composure (just slightly because he was a man after all), his hand slipping off himself as Dean’s hand replaced it. Leaning back against the whiteboard, he struggled to keep his eyes open to watch the man on his knees before him but failed when Dean’s thumb ran over the slit, his hips bucking. He was about to ask ‘do what?’ because heaven knows he forgot whatever the heck he said just moments before but before he could, Dean’s tongue was tracing his length and a growl escaped his lips. Campbell’s hand tugged on Dean’s hair harder now, wordlessly encouraging him to continue, and yanked his head back when the two words ‘fuck me’ slipped from his lips. “Fuck, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He muttered between moans, his hand holding Dean’s head back as he continued tease him. “You want me to bend you over my desk and fuck you ‘til you can’t walk straight?” He rolled his hips so that his cock slipped fully into Dean’s mouth, savoring the moment for a good couple of seconds before he began a slow but steady rhythm. “God, yeah--” He trailed off, too distracted by Dean’s warm mouth to even finish his thought.

It was fun, watching him fish. He likely never would have guessed it, but Faye really had always been a very honest person by nature; it had only been after marrying Henry that she’d shaped herself into someone capable of lying at the drop of a hat. She honestly did feel guilty about it every now and then, but— not when she was lying to him. Mostly because she knew that he could see right through her anyway, and he wouldn’t have particularly liked her even if she didn’t spend half of her time dancing in circles around him. Every now and then, though, Faye couldn’t help wondering if they could have been friends under different circumstances, one where she’d never let herself get involved with the mafia. (But then she remembered that she loved the life she led, and that she neither wanted nor needed Damien Farwell’s approval.) 

“Oh--” Damien was surprised at her answer, not because she was friends with the owner but because he hadn’t known that little fun fact which decreased his credibility, but he refused to let it show. Instead, he simply nodded with a slightly bemused expression as if he’d known all along.  Luckily, Faye’s eyes left his face shortly after which meant that she couldn’t see him struggling to think of an equally witty response. Instead of doing so, however, his eyes (with a mind of their own) trailed over her body, admiring the curve of her hips in the black pencil skirt she was wearing. It took him a few moments to realize that he was actually checking her out (not for the first time today) and he forced himself to snap out of it. He had a job to do, one which involved getting her behind bars. When she opened the oven to check on the lasagna, its strong aroma filled the kitchen and his stomach growled as a response. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was all day until now.

Oh fuck, that sounded so good. The thought of fucking her when she was so hot and wet against him, even with the layers between them… Dean returned Sam’s kiss, getting a little lost in the slow and steady of it as his hand teased lower, fingers finally dipping under the thin fabric covering her heat. Hot and slick and so good that the feel of her made him groan against her mouth as his fingers teased at her, slipping inside just a little but so so easily because her body was probably begging for it. The world was full-out spinning now, and he was having a hard time trying to remember why there was a voice in the back of his mind screaming that this was wrong wrong wrongwrongwrong. 

Dean’s lips tasted better than Sam could have ever imagined and she couldn’t get enough of them, sucking on his lower lip lightly before letting it go and kissing him again. A gasp fell from her lips in surprise as his finger dipped beneath her panties and he felt exactly how soaking wet she was for him. “Dean,” she breathed against her big brother’s lips, tugging on his hair roughly, as his finger slipped into her ever so slightly. “Oh god,” she muttered at the same time that he broke their kiss to breathe her name, her head falling back to allow him better access at her bare breasts. Sam got into a nice rhythm of rolling her hips at the same time that he fingered her for deeper penetration which resulted in several “oh God”’s and “please, Dean.” God, at this point, she was pretty sure she’d died and gone to heaven with the way both his hands and his mouth were giving her their undivided attention.

When Damien leaned forward, so did Faye, setting down the vinaigrette and resting her elbows on the counter. She waited for him to finish his line of questions before responding, knowing that his reactions to her answers would be worth watching. A small smile played at her lips as she met his gaze, raising a brow. “To answer your first question… Yes, I would mind, which is why I said ‘personal’. But if you must know…” There were some things she would rather not explicitly mention, but the last thing Faye wanted was to let Damien have his smug way. She much preferred being the smug one. “Let’s just say that if I were wearing what I bought yesterday— and I am— you wouldn’t be able to see it unless you asked very nicely.” With that, she leaned back and pulled out the feta to sprinkle on top of the salad before continuing as though nothing had happened. 

Faye leaning forward at the same exact time he did didn’t go unnoticed but he refused to lean back to his original position. He was ready for anything she could throw his way. --Okay, maybe not anything. His face went from arrogant to complete and utter surprise in a split second as she confessed that she was buying lingerie. It was almost impossible not to imagine her in bright red lingerie (that no doubt perfectly matched her favorite shade of red lipstick) and he found himself licking his lips nervously as he searched for something witty to respond. Wait, she said she was wearing what she bought… That meant she was currently wearing lingerie underneath her and that if he played his cards right-- Goddammit, Faye. She knew exactly what she was doing and it was then he realized just how she had the entire police force wrapped around her perfectly manicured finger. His eyes narrowed at her for a moment before his face relaxed and he simply nodded. “Oh,” He grinned at her more so because it was the only sensible thing he could think to do right now as he was imagining her in lingerie in the middle of her kitchen. “Right.” He refused to apologize for questioning as he was simply doing his job but this was one of the more awkward situations he’d experienced in his line of work.

Dean didn’t even get the chance to appreciate Mr. Prim-and-Proper-Fucking-Campbell swearing out his name, because the next words that fell from the man’s mouth were a pointed insult. And then all he could do was tilt his head back and laugh, because ooh, kitty’s got claws. But something told him that saying that out loud would be a very bad idea, so he just settled for nipping the man’s neck in response and rubbing his thigh back and forth over the impressive bulge in the other man’s pants. He’d let the douche comment slide, because hey, why not let Teach believe whatever he wanted? No skin off his back; he was in this for the grade, not for the other man’s appreciation on anything more than a physical level. Despite that, however, he had to pause and raise his brows right back at Campbell for the next line out of the man’s mouth. “Dude, you just said you’re not a douche. Even I don’t use that line.” Dean made a ‘tsk’ing noise as though he was disappointed with his professor, even though the smirk that immediately started pulling at his mouth made it clear that he was the exact opposite. (And if that failed to show his approval, there was always the approving rock of his hips into Campbell’s because he did like the other man’s douchey side a little bit.) 

Sam felt his blood boil when Dean fucking laughed at his comment. Sure, it was a little funny but it was also fucking true. From where Sam was standing, Dean was a douche through and through and yeah, okay, he probably shouldn’t have followed it up with that douche-y comment but goddamn, he was a tease. “Whatever,” he mumbled at the exact same time as Dean and met his eyes for a second as their hips rocked back and forth together. Fuck, that felt good. Wordlessly, Sam pulled off his shirt and sweater in one fell swoop (instantly missing the warmth of Dean’s body and more importantly, his thigh between his legs). The sight of Dean on his knees before him made him bite his lip and it took all his willpower not to reach out to cup the back of his head and pull his face to his throbbing member. Dean hardly needed the guidance though as his palms were already making their way up his thighs and a groan fell from his lips, his hips bucking towards the younger man’s hand. The casual way in which Dean was speaking as he rubbed his cheek against the obvious bulge in his khaki pants made Sam’s groans grow louder and his hand instinctively reached to tug on his hair, angling his face to meet his green eyes. Fuck, Dean looked so good from this angle.

All the questions made Faye smile, genuine amusement curling her lips into a smile. She set down her knife and braced her palms on the edge of the counter, smiling serenely at the commander as she responded. “Marrying Henry didn’t completely stop my life, you know. I still practice law— privately, of course, mostly contracts. But I’m sure you already knew that. I was going over a will for the Superintendent— a friend of yours, I think?” Completely true, and what a perfect time to bring it up! A harmless alibi, yes, but she knew just how much he hated that she had so much of the police force wrapped around her fingers— especially when it came to the higher ranks. “And as for shopping, well. It’s a little personal.” 

A friend of his indeed, one he wasn't particularly fond of, mind you. He knew that Faye was involved with a number of the higher ranking political officials of the city but it was a fact he kept in the back of his mind. He'd rather not be reminded of corruption in his city on a daily basis. "Yeah, he's a friend of mine," He nodded simply, giving her a fake grin and tapping his fingertips on the counter. His eyebrows shot up at the words 'personal' and 'shopping', if that wasn't a cover-up for something then he didn't know what was. "You don't mind me asking what exactly was so personal that you would mind sharing with an officer, would you?" He asked politely, leaning forward on the counter slightly.

For someone so uptight, Campbell sure gave in easy. All he needed was some dirty talk, a bit of shameless grinding, and he was throwing his head back and letting Dean take whatever he wanted. Not that it was all that surprising— it was always the ones who were wound a little too tight that were the most eager when it was offered up. (And not that he was full of it, but Dean thought that his whole seduction routine had gone pretty damn well.) Just the sound of Campbell’s voice, all turned-on and breathy… The younger man grinned against the edge of his teacher’s jaw, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses in a slow path down that long neck. Positive that Campbell wasn’t going anywhere, Dean pulled his hands away from the whiteboard to settle on the man’s hips, giving them a squeeze. The flesh under his hands, even with a layer between their skin, was more firm than Dean had expected. With a curious hum, he slid his hands up underneath the older man’s sweater to tug the button-up out of his khakis. Fucking nerd, Dean thought almost affectionately.

If it weren't for the whiteboard that Sam was currently leaning against, his head would've fallen back when Dean started pressing open-mouthed kisses along the span of his neck. God, that man knew how to use his beautiful mouth. He was quite literally throbbing to feel (and see) it around his cock, to see if the rumors were true. (Yes, although Sam was a professor, he still overheard the most popular of rumors along the rumor mill, one of which was Dean's talents in the bedroom.) Even though Dean's hands were now squeezing his hips, Sam (wrongly) believed that if he didn't actually reach out and touch his student, it wouldn't count as doing anything wrong and so, his hands stayed firmly in place on the whiteboard's cold metal ledge. A breath fell from his lips as his shirt was pulled out from his pants and he felt a smug sense of satisfaction at Dean's surprise at his toned torso. You don't always gotta be a show off, Dean, he thought to himself as his lips curled into a smirk. Less is more sometimes -- makes for moments like these. And there was nothing that Sam loved more in this second than the words 'holy fuck' slipping out of Dean's mouth. Okay, that's a lie, maybe he loved the way his strong thigh was pressing against his cock more.

How could he say no to that? Dean groaned lowly against Sam’s lips, tilting his head back to meet her eyes when she pulled away to speak, rolling those hips of hers down on him nice and hard. She was swimming in his vision, but that was alright— he could still feel her in his hands, her flesh warm and supple, thighs firm where they were gripping his sides as she rocked into him. Yeah, he could give her what she wanted, he was aching and ready to go anytime she said so, and she was so damn wet against him even through her sweatpants and his shorts that it made his dick twitch. “Fuck, Sammy…” he groaned, one of his hands abandoning her chest to return to her ass, slipping under the waistband of her sweats to give her a firm squeeze.

Dean's dick twitching against her made her breathe his name and she found herself rolling her hips quicker now in the hopes of eliciting the same response again 'cause God, that felt good. Normally, if she were slightly less tipsy, she would've been embarrassed that it was so goddamn obvious how wet and ready she was for him but right now, she didn't fucking care. She was wet for her older brother and she would shout it from the rooftops if given the chance. All she wanted was for him to flip them over and fuck her until she couldn't walk right and, at the rate this was going, it looked like she was going to get her wish. "Anything?" She murmured against his lips, rocking her hips against him. "I think you know what I want, Dean." She tugged on his lower lip with her teeth and sucked on it roughly before letting it go. "I think you know."

 Oh yeah, his words were working. Everything about the older man, from his wide eyes to his tense shoulders to the way he licked his lips— and especially that nice bulge forming in his khaki pants that proved, hey, the guy was human after all— was an invitation to keep going. “I’m not going anywhere,” he responded without even considering the option, taking another full step forward. And then another, until he was way too close for the other man to ignore, hands coming up to settle palm-first on the whiteboard on either side of his professor’s shoulders. 

Sam swallowed dryly as Dean confirmed that he was not going anywhere as a man who had the balls to offer what he was offering would do. Sam knew the student well enough to know that he wouldn't back down so easily and hey, why should he? He was more than reasonably attractive and had Sam right where he wanted him from what he could tell-- all Sam wished was that he had more than an ounce of self control to stop this from going any further. But, alas, Sam did not. "Dean," He breathed as his lips met his neck and nodded subtly. The name 'Dean' did roll off his tongue much nicer than 'Mr. Wincester.' A low groan escaped his lips at the feel of Dean's tongue on his neck followed by a louder one when his thigh collided with the bulge that was quickly forming in his khaki pants.

It took a certain amount of effort for Faye not to reply to the handcuff comment; enough that she bit her bottom lip for a moment, the white of her teeth stark against her red lips. Instead, she let the commander continue, flashing him a teasing smile. His grin was a good sign, one that he was at least somewhat relaxed, which was more than she could usually say about his demeanor. This could prove to be a very good night if she played her cards right. 

Damien nodded at her question. All day yesterday indeed. It would be best to get some background as to where she was and what she had been doing an entire day before the tip was called in-- planning it all no doubt but he knew that she knew better than to let herself slip. A man could dream though, right? He listened closely as she recounted the day's events and searched her face for any sign of hesitance. She was good, he'll give her that. She knew exactly how to cover her tracks and he hated her even more for it. "Work?" He asked, raising his eyebrow. "What kind of work, may I ask?" He shrugged, taking another sip of water, as this was simply a nonchalant question. "And what'd you shop for? Anything in particular?"

All she had to do was ask, and Dean was immediately giving her exactly what she wanted. Even off his ass, his first instinct was to give Sammy anything she asked for, and if what she asked for was another squeeze of her ass… Yeah, he could do that. Dean groaned softly against her neck, parting his lips against her skin and tasting her as he gave her ass a firm squeeze, dragging her hips back and forth against his with the movement. Fuck, he was hard— the realization was sudden and jarring and made him moan deep in his throat as his lips worked over her skin. He was only barely aware of what he was doing, too caught up in the touch and taste and feel of her, but damn wouldn’t it be nice to see a mark on her long, pretty neck? Yeah, it’d be awesome. 

Dean's open mouth against her neck elicited a low moan from her throat and she found herself rolling her hips against him again which was only encouraged by him guiding her with his hands on her ass to do the same. It felt so much better with his hands squeezing her ass though and she continued the simple action as her right hand tugged on his shirt. With her own shirt now off, Dean had as much access to her smooth skin as he wanted and much to Sam's delight, he was taking advantage of it. The combined motion of his hips bucking into hers and him pulling down the cups of her bra caused her to gasp and her nails dug into his shoulders, pulling herself closer to him. Holding onto him as he moved them into a sitting position, she breathed his name quietly at the feeling of his cock pressing against her at a better angle now. Thank fucking God for his thin pajama shorts and his tendency not to wear underwear under them (fuck yeah she'd noticed -- multiple times). She could feel him throbbing under him and she bucked her hips against him again, her head falling back as his thumbs rubbed her nipples.

Fuck, she could move fast. Fast enough that Dean found himself somewhat muddled, because one second she’d been kissing him slow and sweet and he’d been telling her he loved her, because of course he did, and the next second she was hiking one of those mile-long legs over his hip and tugging him closer. Dean groaned softly against her lips, brow furrowing in confusion. Sam felt good against him (really, really good, wow,) but this wasn’t what he’d expected. A quick kiss, yeah, but this was… This was… 

Sam was surprised at the kind of response she was getting from Dean. Not even her dreams were as vivid and responsive as Dean was being right now. Guess all those years of attraction weren't one-sided. It had to reach a boiling point at some point, right? His mouth invited her tongue and she quickly obliged, her hand moving to his hair to tug on it not so gently. A gasp escaped her lips when his hands found their way to her ass and squeezed it -- twice. Another one, this time mixed with a moan, escaped when he moaned her name, his lips now traveling down her jaw. Sam let her head fall back to allow him all the access to her neck that he pleased. "Oh god, Dean," She moaned his name, rolling her hips against him and begging him to squeeze her ass again. "Do that again," she murmured, her nails digging into his arms.

'Professor Campbell', sure. That hardly sounded like a no. Dean smiled lazily as the man backed away, taking in his professor's obvious frustration and lack of genuine anger for the green light he knew it was. Christ, the guy was wound tight, and Dean would bet that making him snap would be fun as hell. With an easy shrug, the green-eyed man took a step forward to close the distance the other had tried to put between them. He was about to speak, but he was struck with a sudden (brilliant) thought instead; shaking his head as though amused, Dean slipped out of his heavy leather jacket and tossed it over to the empty desk a couple of feet away. The t-shirt he wore underneath was a nice fit, he knew, black and tight around his shoulders and arms. 

Sam's eyes widened the instant Dean moved to remove his leather jacket and revealed the fitted black t-shirt he was wearing underneath. Oh, fuck. Dean was exactly Sam's type and that's when he knew he would be going to hell. This was all sorts of wrong yet a part of Sam was aching to give in. Throbbing to give in. His tongue instinctively licked his lips at the thought of Dean's full lips wrapped around his cock, glancing down at Dean's own lips after he made the comment. Just by studying the way Dean carefully licked his bottom lip, he could tell the man could give a mind-blowing (pun intended) blow job and a small bulge began to form in his pants.

Faye shook her head at his kind words, knowing that Lili wouldn’t mind all that much. She’d bring dinner up for the girl as soon as the lasagna finished baking, along with a bowl of ice cream to soothe her. Maybe a few months ago, she would’ve entertained the idea that she’d be able to tempt the girl downstairs to say hello, but it would be better not to stress her out. 

You think a pair of handcuffs could hold me, Commander? If Damien didn't know any better, he could've sworn that Faye was flirting with him. Hell, maybe she was and that's how she'd wormed her way into the hearts of every officer on the force. The comment sent his mind straight to the gutter though and he quickly had to compose himself and not let her notice. Not that she would as she was busy chopping the tomatoes for the salad. For a simple housewife, Faye surely did know how to use the knife very well, he thought to himself and then noticed that this was probably why the entire station thought him to be obsessed. He cracked a smile at the handcuff comment and shrugged. "Guess I'll find out, won't I?"