Fic: SPN (Sam/Dean) A Quick Fuck In the Woods
Title: A Quick Fuck In the Woods
Author: dragonspell
Series: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 800
Summary: Sam and Dean and a quick roll in the leaves after a hunt. Written for blindfold_spn prompt "Sam/Dean, post-hunt, adrenaline-fueled, super intense, rough getting off. Preferably no penetration, just the two of them wildly groping and rutting against each other."
For some miraculous fucking reason, they’re both not dead, not even really bloody. Just a little banged up and getting more so by the minute even though the fucking werewolf is deader than a damned doornail. ‘Cause Sam’s slamming Dean up against a tree, griping Dean’s leather jacket with both fists and Dean growling, shoving back at him. Sam’s tongue fucks into Dean’s mouth, Dean accepting it greedily as he thrusts a thigh between Sam’s legs.
“Fuck Sammy,” Dean groans as Sam breaks the kiss to gnaw on Dean’s neck, sucking a hickey onto the skin. Sam grunts his agreement and peels Dean’s jacket off his shoulders. Briefly accepting Sam’s manhandling, Dean helps shrugs out of the coat before he tackles Sam to the ground. He rolls him, pine needles and dead leaves crunching beneath them, and settles on top, rutting against the leg Sam presses against his dick. The friction sets off sharp spikes of pleasure up and down Dean’s spine and he bites his lip, whining and screwing his hips down tighter as his fingers dig into Sam’s hoodie. He’s so fucking close to the edge when Sam flips him and Dean growls with frustration as his back slams against the hard dirt.
Sam pins him, large hands immovable on Dean’s shoulders and mouth demanding on Dean’s throat. Dean rolls his hips, finding Sam’s jean-clad thigh again and dry-humping it.
“You slut,” Sam mutters and Dean wants to take offense to that but Sam’s scraping a hand up under Dean’s layers of shirts and it feels really fucking good. Sam bites his neck, shaking Dean like a dog with a bone and Dean gasps at the pleasure filled pain, sliding his own hands under Sam’s shirt to pinch his nipples. Sam groans and latches onto Dean’s mouth again, licking back inside as he hands delve down Dean’s pants to grip his ass, jerking him closer to Sam’s body.
Dean fumbles a hand between their stomachs, skimming his flat palm over Sam’s tensed muscles and down into his jeans. Sam jerks at Dean’s touch on his cock before allowing it with a soft groan, thrusting into Dean’s hand. Dean wraps his fingers around Sam’s dick, jacking it in the tight space of Sam’s pants, adding a sharp twist on each upstroke.
Sam’s massive hands squeeze Dean’s ass one last time before one slips around grab Dean’s cock, the other sliding up to pull at Dean’s hair. Sam yanks Dean’s head back and surges upwards, mouth still attached to Dean’s. Dean fucks into Sam’s grip with a desperate roll of his hips and a gasp, his own hand speeding up.
Sam bites at Dean’s lips, catching the lower one and sucking it into his mouth and tightens his grasp, pressing his thumb on the bundle of nerves under the head of Dean’s cock. Dean snarls and thrashes as he comes, spilling himself onto his clothes and humping Sam’s furiously working hand.
Sam gives Dean a few more hard strokes before he gropes his way into his own jeans, massive paw encasing Dean’s hand, speeding and tightening his grip. Dean pants and thumbs his free hand over Sam’s nipple again as he lunges up to thrust his tongue into Sam’s mouth. Sam’s come pulses over Dean’s fingers and Sam grunts, collapsing on top of Dean.
Dean shoves at Sam’s shoulder, pushing his heavy bulk just far enough to yank his hand free from Sam’s pants. He brings it to his mouth, tongue lapping at the mess on his fingers and Sam watches him hungrily, breathing hard. When Dean offers him the dripping fingers, Sam sucks them into his mouth, his eyes closing and his head twisting as he tries to swallow them whole.
Dean lets him suck for a moment before slowly pulling his hand free, his fingers catching on Sam’s lower lip. He wipes himself dry on Sam’s coat, eyes holding Sam’s. Sam surges, pushing Dean back on the ground as he kisses him again, forcing Dean’s mouth wide as he thrusts his tongue in. Dean stays down when Sam breaks away again and Sam wipes his hand clean on the crotch of Dean’s jeans, coping one last feel before he pulls back and gets off of Dean.
Sam stands and offers a hand to Dean, hauling him up onto his feet. They turn away from each other as they rearrange their clothes, Dean reaching down to grab his jacket off the ground and swinging it over his shoulders. They share one last look and Dean nods. “Let’s get out of here,” he says and they head towards where they’d hidden the Impala. Some hiker was bound to discover the body they’d left soon and another hunt was waiting for them up in Montana.
Author: dragonspell
Series: Supernatural
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Wordcount: 800
Summary: Sam and Dean and a quick roll in the leaves after a hunt. Written for blindfold_spn prompt "Sam/Dean, post-hunt, adrenaline-fueled, super intense, rough getting off. Preferably no penetration, just the two of them wildly groping and rutting against each other."
For some miraculous fucking reason, they’re both not dead, not even really bloody. Just a little banged up and getting more so by the minute even though the fucking werewolf is deader than a damned doornail. ‘Cause Sam’s slamming Dean up against a tree, griping Dean’s leather jacket with both fists and Dean growling, shoving back at him. Sam’s tongue fucks into Dean’s mouth, Dean accepting it greedily as he thrusts a thigh between Sam’s legs.
“Fuck Sammy,” Dean groans as Sam breaks the kiss to gnaw on Dean’s neck, sucking a hickey onto the skin. Sam grunts his agreement and peels Dean’s jacket off his shoulders. Briefly accepting Sam’s manhandling, Dean helps shrugs out of the coat before he tackles Sam to the ground. He rolls him, pine needles and dead leaves crunching beneath them, and settles on top, rutting against the leg Sam presses against his dick. The friction sets off sharp spikes of pleasure up and down Dean’s spine and he bites his lip, whining and screwing his hips down tighter as his fingers dig into Sam’s hoodie. He’s so fucking close to the edge when Sam flips him and Dean growls with frustration as his back slams against the hard dirt.
Sam pins him, large hands immovable on Dean’s shoulders and mouth demanding on Dean’s throat. Dean rolls his hips, finding Sam’s jean-clad thigh again and dry-humping it.
“You slut,” Sam mutters and Dean wants to take offense to that but Sam’s scraping a hand up under Dean’s layers of shirts and it feels really fucking good. Sam bites his neck, shaking Dean like a dog with a bone and Dean gasps at the pleasure filled pain, sliding his own hands under Sam’s shirt to pinch his nipples. Sam groans and latches onto Dean’s mouth again, licking back inside as he hands delve down Dean’s pants to grip his ass, jerking him closer to Sam’s body.
Dean fumbles a hand between their stomachs, skimming his flat palm over Sam’s tensed muscles and down into his jeans. Sam jerks at Dean’s touch on his cock before allowing it with a soft groan, thrusting into Dean’s hand. Dean wraps his fingers around Sam’s dick, jacking it in the tight space of Sam’s pants, adding a sharp twist on each upstroke.
Sam’s massive hands squeeze Dean’s ass one last time before one slips around grab Dean’s cock, the other sliding up to pull at Dean’s hair. Sam yanks Dean’s head back and surges upwards, mouth still attached to Dean’s. Dean fucks into Sam’s grip with a desperate roll of his hips and a gasp, his own hand speeding up.
Sam bites at Dean’s lips, catching the lower one and sucking it into his mouth and tightens his grasp, pressing his thumb on the bundle of nerves under the head of Dean’s cock. Dean snarls and thrashes as he comes, spilling himself onto his clothes and humping Sam’s furiously working hand.
Sam gives Dean a few more hard strokes before he gropes his way into his own jeans, massive paw encasing Dean’s hand, speeding and tightening his grip. Dean pants and thumbs his free hand over Sam’s nipple again as he lunges up to thrust his tongue into Sam’s mouth. Sam’s come pulses over Dean’s fingers and Sam grunts, collapsing on top of Dean.
Dean shoves at Sam’s shoulder, pushing his heavy bulk just far enough to yank his hand free from Sam’s pants. He brings it to his mouth, tongue lapping at the mess on his fingers and Sam watches him hungrily, breathing hard. When Dean offers him the dripping fingers, Sam sucks them into his mouth, his eyes closing and his head twisting as he tries to swallow them whole.
Dean lets him suck for a moment before slowly pulling his hand free, his fingers catching on Sam’s lower lip. He wipes himself dry on Sam’s coat, eyes holding Sam’s. Sam surges, pushing Dean back on the ground as he kisses him again, forcing Dean’s mouth wide as he thrusts his tongue in. Dean stays down when Sam breaks away again and Sam wipes his hand clean on the crotch of Dean’s jeans, coping one last feel before he pulls back and gets off of Dean.
Sam stands and offers a hand to Dean, hauling him up onto his feet. They turn away from each other as they rearrange their clothes, Dean reaching down to grab his jacket off the ground and swinging it over his shoulders. They share one last look and Dean nods. “Let’s get out of here,” he says and they head towards where they’d hidden the Impala. Some hiker was bound to discover the body they’d left soon and another hunt was waiting for them up in Montana.