SPN fic: D & Rachel's Hot Thursday Porn
D and Rachel's Hot Thursday Porn
Supernatural. NC17. Sam/Dean.
This isn't exactly fic. My porn broke, and stephanometra graciously offered to help me fix it through RP porn! Did some extremely basic editing to fix a couple typos, but don't expect great literature. But porn!
When Dean wakes up, it's still dark, streetlamps shining in through the slim gap in the curtain. Three in the morning and he's waking up with morning wood, sweaty and shaken, his brother snoring quietly beside him. And there's nothing else he can do except roll over, smooth a hand over the warm, bare skin of Sam's stomach and whisper, "Morning, sunshine," in his ear like it's not the middle of the night.
Sam groans and buries his face in his pillow. Damn the training, damn the nightmares anyway, because now he's awake and there's nothing for it. "Dean, what part of 'I think I'm going to sleep for a week' didn't you understand?" He squirms away from Dean's hand on his belly, annoyed.
Dean's chuckle is low and deep, and leans in, pressing a kiss into Sam's shoulder. "S'been two hours, man," he jokes, although his voice catches a little, something soft in his tone that shouldn't be there. "What're you complaining about?"
Sam rolls his eyes. He can feel Dean hard against his ass, and doesn't it just fucking figure that Dean's hard-on is more important than Sam's sleep. "I knew this sleeping in the same bed thing was a bad idea."
"Not my fault your snoring woke me up," Dean murmurs, and he slides a hand down Sam's side, swallowing thickly. "What do I gotta do, man? Beg?"
"Uh." And okay, maybe Sam's still annoyed, but his dick gives a decidedly interested twitch at that. "Yeah. I think some begging's in order."
Dean breathes out a sigh, pulling away briefly. It's only a short second before he's practically on top of Sam, pushing him down onto the mattress -- but when he kisses, it's slowly, nipping at Sam's lower lip, cock pressing into one of Sam's thighs. "Please?" he whispers, his voice soft before he kisses again, a slightly pleading note in his voice. "Sammy..."
Sam is almost taken aback by how sleepy and desperate Dean sounds. He really is hard up.
He arches up against Dean, licking into Dean's mouth as he rolls them over. "Keep going," he murmurs.
"I --" Dean groans, kissing Sam again, sloppy and open-mouthed, reaching around him to grip loosely at his shoulders. He groans low and deep, mutters, "God, I just -- I need," he whispers, nuzzling into Sam's neck. "Sam."
Sam rolls his hips, pressing Dean further into the mattress. "What do you need, Dean? You want me to fuck you?"
Dean arches up under him, gasping, every muscle in his body taut. "Please," he begs, just a soft whisper of sound. There's something in his face, something raw and tired, and he slumps back into the mattress, looking up at Sam, and yeah, he's obviously exhausted even though he's the one who woke Sam up for this. "Sam, please."
Sam moans as Dean spreads his legs and hooks his heels around Sam's calves. "Yeah," he breathes, sliding a hand up Dean's chest to slip two fingers into Dean's mouth. "Come on."
Dean groans, sucking them in, swallowing around them. He doesn't say anything else, just digs fingers into Sam's shoulders, blunt nails biting into skin. He whimpers low and deep in his throat, practically begging for Sam to fuck his mouth like that, tongue sliding over Sam's warm fingers.
God, Dean looks so good, fucked-out and desperate with his lips wrapped around Sam's fingers. Sam's hips jerk helplessly, and it takes a monumental effort to pull his hand away from Dean's mouth without coming at the harsh, bereft sound that comes from Dean's throat. "I've got you," he says, leaning in to kiss Dean's jaw as he circles his spit-slick fingers around Dean's hole.
Dean's whole body shudders, arching up under Sam, and he gasps, groaning hoarsely, no words. The sounds he makes are fucking dirty, hips shifting, begging, mumbling under his breath what might be a mantra of muffled pleas. It's impossible to tell what he's saying, but he needs this, pressing his eager cock up against Sam's belly.
Dean is so hot inside, his muscles still sleep-warm and relaxed enough to take Sam's fingers easily. And God, the sounds Dean makes as Sam fucks him with his fingers make him think that Dean's going to come without a hand on him before Sam can even get his cock inside.
Sam draws in a shuddering breath. "Need the lube," he grinds out, stroking over Dean's prostate just because he can.
And if Sam thinks Dean's going to be able to tell him where it is while he's doing that -- it's not going to happen. He just makes this sound, groaning deep in his chest, desperate and needy, thighs spreading wide. "Oh --" is all Dean manages before another whimpering gasp.
Shit, shit, at this rate Sam's going to come before they get to the fucking part. He pushes a third finger inside. "Can I just - God, Dean."
"Just -- just what?" Dean manages, and he's fucking up against Sam, dick rubbing against his stomach, so fucking needy, Sam's fingers deep inside him. "Sammy, god -- what do -- what'd'you want?" His eyes are squeezed shut, like if he doesn't look at Sam he'll be able to hold on longer.
Sam shifts down onto his elbow and presses the fingers of his other hand against Dean's lips. "Can you take it with just this?" and moans when Dean nods and opens his mouth, licking between his fingers.
Dean groans around Sam's fingers, arching up against Sam, because god -- he knows this is going to hurt, but he doesn't care right now, can't think beyond how much he needs Sam's cock inside him. He sucks at Sam's fingers, and when Sam draws them out, he whispers, hoarse, "I'll -- fuck, Sammy, please -- I'll try."
Sam groans and draws his knees under him, sitting back on his heels as he dips his fingers into the pre-come pooled on Dean's stomach, spits into his palm and roughly fists his cock. "Ready?" he asks, withdrawing his fingers and lining up.
Dean looks up at him, his eyes wide and bright, and he whispers, panting, "Slow," his whole body trembling. "Sam, go -- go slow." He's shaking, spread out on the bed, legs wide open, body slack and malleable, already fucked-out.
Sam pushes in, gritting his teeth because Dean is hot and tight around him and God, the spit's not enough, the friction so good it almost hurts, and he can't imagine how it feels for Dean. "Am I," he pants, stilling his hips. "Dean?"
"Oh, god," Dean practically sobs, hiding his face against Sam's neck. "It -- oh, god, Sam," and it -- Jesus, it burns, somewhere between pleasure and pain and Dean doesn't know if he likes it or not, just that it burns, and he whimpers, not moving. "God. Oh, god."
Sam groans, torn between staying still and letting Dean try to adjust and pulling out before he can hurt Dean any worse. "Dean - do you." He swallows. "I'm gonna pull out, okay?" He wraps a hand around Dean's cock and strokes him a couple of times - that'll make it easier, hurt him less.
"I need --" Dean whimpers, and he hold still, although it's obvious how badly he wants to jerk up into Sam's hand, quivering. "Yeah -- Jesus, Sam, need --" He takes a deep, gasping breath, head falling back against the pillows as he tries to collect himself enough to speak. "Need lube, Sam. I'm -- 'm sorry."
Sam feels the tension in Dean's body as he withdraws, can see and hear how badly Dean needs to come, but he doesn't want to let go of Dean for the thirty seconds it would take to fumble for the lube.
He shimmies down the bed, licks his fingers again. "Not for this, you don't," he says, meeting Dean's eyes, and he swallows Dean's cock as he slips two fingers back into Dean's ass.
"Oh -- oh, god," Dean gasps, arching off the bed, up into Sam's mouth. He fists one hand tight in Sam's hair, hips thrusting like he's got no clue what he's doing, not in control, groaning his little brother's name. "Fuck, yes," he breathes, all uncertainty gone from his voice. "Sam."
Dean's so far gone that Sam knows this isn't going to last long, so he just opens his throat and plants his hands on the bed. His own cock throbs, needy and neglected, when Dean tangles a hand in Sam's hair, right on the edge of coming.
"Sam," is all he manages to get out, "I --" and then he comes, thrusting one final time up to Sam's mouth, tugging hard on his hair. The sound that comes out of his throat is obscene, a low moan that rumbles deep in his chest, coming hard into his brother's mouth before finally collapsing back onto the bed.
Sam pulls off as soon as Dean goes boneless under him. He crawls back up the bed and captures Dean's mouth again, almost sobbing as he gets a hand around his cock and starts pulling himself off in time with the lazy slide of Dean's tongue against his.
"Wait," Dean groans, shoving Sam away, gentle. "Shit." He's shaking still, but he's relaxed. "Wait, Sam. Lube's in the bedside table drawer." He starts to reach for it, pausing briefly to look up into his brothers face. "Fuck me, Sam. Won't -- I won't tell you to stop this time."
And God, Sam has to clutch at the base of his cock to keep from shooting off at that, breath coming in harsh pants against Dean's shoulder. "You're sure?" he asks, already groping for the nightstand. Dean nods, breathless, as he slicks himself up and presses home. "Oh, fuck, Dean," he moans as he bottoms out, trying to support his weight on shaking arms.
Dean clutches at Sam's shoulder. He's already come, but it doesn't make this feel any less amazing, Sam hard inside him. He's loose now, winces and groans a little as Sam slides in, but Jesus. "Sam -- god, right there -- fuck, yeah," relaxed and warm and this -- this is so fucking worth it. It tugs, and he's still raw from before, feels the burn of Sam inside him, but this time -- yeah, this is exactly what he needed. He presses a kiss into Sam's shoulder, legs bent up, wrapped loosely around Sam's waist. "God, Sammy."
Sam seeks Dean's lips again, hips working in gentle rocking thrusts. "So good," he whispers into Dean's mouth. "God, gonna come."
Dean kisses him loosely. God, he loves this. He knows it stupid, but to fuck Sam like this, already spent, Sam thrust deep into him -- "Yeah, I -- I know." There's still that shudder in his voice and pulls away from Sam's mouth, nuzzling in against his neck, eyes squeezed shut as he holds his brother tightly against him. "Sam."
Sam is done for when Dean buries his face in Sam's neck, winds his arms around Sam's shoulders. "Ah, God," he moans as the pleasure spikes through him, pure and sharp and endless in that brief moment before he spills. And then he's coming, his dick pulsing deep and hot inside Dean's body.
And then he drops onto Dean's chest, feeling his own heart beating in counterpoint to Dean's, just breathing in the scent of sex and sweat and sleep and Dean, and it's so fucking perfect that he doesn't want to move, even when Dean shifts restlessly underneath him.
Dean heaves Sam off him, although he still drapes an arm over his brother, pressing a kiss into his throat. "Heavy," he murmurs, still a little breathless. "God, Sam."
Sam grins into Dean's side. "Not heavy," he says, basking in the feeling of contented weightlessness and clinging to Dean's warmth. "You're just a wuss."
"Shut up, bitch," Dean mumbles into his neck. "Took you up my ass dry, didn't I?" There's a slight quaver in his voice when he says it, and he shifts against Sam, smoothing his hand down over his hip.
Sam frowns. That shaky voice hadn't bothered him so much when Dean was seconds from coming his brains out, but now it worries him. "Dean? What's up?"
Dean's fucked-out, voice a little hazy though still shaky. "Weird dreams," he murmurs. "Why I woke you up."
"Huh," Sam says. "Can we do that the next time I have a weird dream?"
Dean laughs, the sound deep and rough. "Maybe. Minus the part where we try shoving your huge cock up my ass without lube."
"Dude, you were begging me for it. What's a guy supposed to do?" Sam hides his smile in Dean's shoulder.
"Wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had." He smiles, and there's a serious tone to his voice when he adds, "You asked me for it. You really think I'd say no?"
And okay, maybe that makes Sam a little uncomfortable, because there's nothing he can say. He presses a kiss to Dean's jaw, smoothes a hand down Dean's arm. "Go back to sleep," he says.
"Sorry I woke you up," Dean murmurs, tugging Sam a little closer and closing his eyes.
Supernatural. NC17. Sam/Dean.
This isn't exactly fic. My porn broke, and stephanometra graciously offered to help me fix it through RP porn! Did some extremely basic editing to fix a couple typos, but don't expect great literature. But porn!
When Dean wakes up, it's still dark, streetlamps shining in through the slim gap in the curtain. Three in the morning and he's waking up with morning wood, sweaty and shaken, his brother snoring quietly beside him. And there's nothing else he can do except roll over, smooth a hand over the warm, bare skin of Sam's stomach and whisper, "Morning, sunshine," in his ear like it's not the middle of the night.
Sam groans and buries his face in his pillow. Damn the training, damn the nightmares anyway, because now he's awake and there's nothing for it. "Dean, what part of 'I think I'm going to sleep for a week' didn't you understand?" He squirms away from Dean's hand on his belly, annoyed.
Dean's chuckle is low and deep, and leans in, pressing a kiss into Sam's shoulder. "S'been two hours, man," he jokes, although his voice catches a little, something soft in his tone that shouldn't be there. "What're you complaining about?"
Sam rolls his eyes. He can feel Dean hard against his ass, and doesn't it just fucking figure that Dean's hard-on is more important than Sam's sleep. "I knew this sleeping in the same bed thing was a bad idea."
"Not my fault your snoring woke me up," Dean murmurs, and he slides a hand down Sam's side, swallowing thickly. "What do I gotta do, man? Beg?"
"Uh." And okay, maybe Sam's still annoyed, but his dick gives a decidedly interested twitch at that. "Yeah. I think some begging's in order."
Dean breathes out a sigh, pulling away briefly. It's only a short second before he's practically on top of Sam, pushing him down onto the mattress -- but when he kisses, it's slowly, nipping at Sam's lower lip, cock pressing into one of Sam's thighs. "Please?" he whispers, his voice soft before he kisses again, a slightly pleading note in his voice. "Sammy..."
Sam is almost taken aback by how sleepy and desperate Dean sounds. He really is hard up.
He arches up against Dean, licking into Dean's mouth as he rolls them over. "Keep going," he murmurs.
"I --" Dean groans, kissing Sam again, sloppy and open-mouthed, reaching around him to grip loosely at his shoulders. He groans low and deep, mutters, "God, I just -- I need," he whispers, nuzzling into Sam's neck. "Sam."
Sam rolls his hips, pressing Dean further into the mattress. "What do you need, Dean? You want me to fuck you?"
Dean arches up under him, gasping, every muscle in his body taut. "Please," he begs, just a soft whisper of sound. There's something in his face, something raw and tired, and he slumps back into the mattress, looking up at Sam, and yeah, he's obviously exhausted even though he's the one who woke Sam up for this. "Sam, please."
Sam moans as Dean spreads his legs and hooks his heels around Sam's calves. "Yeah," he breathes, sliding a hand up Dean's chest to slip two fingers into Dean's mouth. "Come on."
Dean groans, sucking them in, swallowing around them. He doesn't say anything else, just digs fingers into Sam's shoulders, blunt nails biting into skin. He whimpers low and deep in his throat, practically begging for Sam to fuck his mouth like that, tongue sliding over Sam's warm fingers.
God, Dean looks so good, fucked-out and desperate with his lips wrapped around Sam's fingers. Sam's hips jerk helplessly, and it takes a monumental effort to pull his hand away from Dean's mouth without coming at the harsh, bereft sound that comes from Dean's throat. "I've got you," he says, leaning in to kiss Dean's jaw as he circles his spit-slick fingers around Dean's hole.
Dean's whole body shudders, arching up under Sam, and he gasps, groaning hoarsely, no words. The sounds he makes are fucking dirty, hips shifting, begging, mumbling under his breath what might be a mantra of muffled pleas. It's impossible to tell what he's saying, but he needs this, pressing his eager cock up against Sam's belly.
Dean is so hot inside, his muscles still sleep-warm and relaxed enough to take Sam's fingers easily. And God, the sounds Dean makes as Sam fucks him with his fingers make him think that Dean's going to come without a hand on him before Sam can even get his cock inside.
Sam draws in a shuddering breath. "Need the lube," he grinds out, stroking over Dean's prostate just because he can.
And if Sam thinks Dean's going to be able to tell him where it is while he's doing that -- it's not going to happen. He just makes this sound, groaning deep in his chest, desperate and needy, thighs spreading wide. "Oh --" is all Dean manages before another whimpering gasp.
Shit, shit, at this rate Sam's going to come before they get to the fucking part. He pushes a third finger inside. "Can I just - God, Dean."
"Just -- just what?" Dean manages, and he's fucking up against Sam, dick rubbing against his stomach, so fucking needy, Sam's fingers deep inside him. "Sammy, god -- what do -- what'd'you want?" His eyes are squeezed shut, like if he doesn't look at Sam he'll be able to hold on longer.
Sam shifts down onto his elbow and presses the fingers of his other hand against Dean's lips. "Can you take it with just this?" and moans when Dean nods and opens his mouth, licking between his fingers.
Dean groans around Sam's fingers, arching up against Sam, because god -- he knows this is going to hurt, but he doesn't care right now, can't think beyond how much he needs Sam's cock inside him. He sucks at Sam's fingers, and when Sam draws them out, he whispers, hoarse, "I'll -- fuck, Sammy, please -- I'll try."
Sam groans and draws his knees under him, sitting back on his heels as he dips his fingers into the pre-come pooled on Dean's stomach, spits into his palm and roughly fists his cock. "Ready?" he asks, withdrawing his fingers and lining up.
Dean looks up at him, his eyes wide and bright, and he whispers, panting, "Slow," his whole body trembling. "Sam, go -- go slow." He's shaking, spread out on the bed, legs wide open, body slack and malleable, already fucked-out.
Sam pushes in, gritting his teeth because Dean is hot and tight around him and God, the spit's not enough, the friction so good it almost hurts, and he can't imagine how it feels for Dean. "Am I," he pants, stilling his hips. "Dean?"
"Oh, god," Dean practically sobs, hiding his face against Sam's neck. "It -- oh, god, Sam," and it -- Jesus, it burns, somewhere between pleasure and pain and Dean doesn't know if he likes it or not, just that it burns, and he whimpers, not moving. "God. Oh, god."
Sam groans, torn between staying still and letting Dean try to adjust and pulling out before he can hurt Dean any worse. "Dean - do you." He swallows. "I'm gonna pull out, okay?" He wraps a hand around Dean's cock and strokes him a couple of times - that'll make it easier, hurt him less.
"I need --" Dean whimpers, and he hold still, although it's obvious how badly he wants to jerk up into Sam's hand, quivering. "Yeah -- Jesus, Sam, need --" He takes a deep, gasping breath, head falling back against the pillows as he tries to collect himself enough to speak. "Need lube, Sam. I'm -- 'm sorry."
Sam feels the tension in Dean's body as he withdraws, can see and hear how badly Dean needs to come, but he doesn't want to let go of Dean for the thirty seconds it would take to fumble for the lube.
He shimmies down the bed, licks his fingers again. "Not for this, you don't," he says, meeting Dean's eyes, and he swallows Dean's cock as he slips two fingers back into Dean's ass.
"Oh -- oh, god," Dean gasps, arching off the bed, up into Sam's mouth. He fists one hand tight in Sam's hair, hips thrusting like he's got no clue what he's doing, not in control, groaning his little brother's name. "Fuck, yes," he breathes, all uncertainty gone from his voice. "Sam."
Dean's so far gone that Sam knows this isn't going to last long, so he just opens his throat and plants his hands on the bed. His own cock throbs, needy and neglected, when Dean tangles a hand in Sam's hair, right on the edge of coming.
"Sam," is all he manages to get out, "I --" and then he comes, thrusting one final time up to Sam's mouth, tugging hard on his hair. The sound that comes out of his throat is obscene, a low moan that rumbles deep in his chest, coming hard into his brother's mouth before finally collapsing back onto the bed.
Sam pulls off as soon as Dean goes boneless under him. He crawls back up the bed and captures Dean's mouth again, almost sobbing as he gets a hand around his cock and starts pulling himself off in time with the lazy slide of Dean's tongue against his.
"Wait," Dean groans, shoving Sam away, gentle. "Shit." He's shaking still, but he's relaxed. "Wait, Sam. Lube's in the bedside table drawer." He starts to reach for it, pausing briefly to look up into his brothers face. "Fuck me, Sam. Won't -- I won't tell you to stop this time."
And God, Sam has to clutch at the base of his cock to keep from shooting off at that, breath coming in harsh pants against Dean's shoulder. "You're sure?" he asks, already groping for the nightstand. Dean nods, breathless, as he slicks himself up and presses home. "Oh, fuck, Dean," he moans as he bottoms out, trying to support his weight on shaking arms.
Dean clutches at Sam's shoulder. He's already come, but it doesn't make this feel any less amazing, Sam hard inside him. He's loose now, winces and groans a little as Sam slides in, but Jesus. "Sam -- god, right there -- fuck, yeah," relaxed and warm and this -- this is so fucking worth it. It tugs, and he's still raw from before, feels the burn of Sam inside him, but this time -- yeah, this is exactly what he needed. He presses a kiss into Sam's shoulder, legs bent up, wrapped loosely around Sam's waist. "God, Sammy."
Sam seeks Dean's lips again, hips working in gentle rocking thrusts. "So good," he whispers into Dean's mouth. "God, gonna come."
Dean kisses him loosely. God, he loves this. He knows it stupid, but to fuck Sam like this, already spent, Sam thrust deep into him -- "Yeah, I -- I know." There's still that shudder in his voice and pulls away from Sam's mouth, nuzzling in against his neck, eyes squeezed shut as he holds his brother tightly against him. "Sam."
Sam is done for when Dean buries his face in Sam's neck, winds his arms around Sam's shoulders. "Ah, God," he moans as the pleasure spikes through him, pure and sharp and endless in that brief moment before he spills. And then he's coming, his dick pulsing deep and hot inside Dean's body.
And then he drops onto Dean's chest, feeling his own heart beating in counterpoint to Dean's, just breathing in the scent of sex and sweat and sleep and Dean, and it's so fucking perfect that he doesn't want to move, even when Dean shifts restlessly underneath him.
Dean heaves Sam off him, although he still drapes an arm over his brother, pressing a kiss into his throat. "Heavy," he murmurs, still a little breathless. "God, Sam."
Sam grins into Dean's side. "Not heavy," he says, basking in the feeling of contented weightlessness and clinging to Dean's warmth. "You're just a wuss."
"Shut up, bitch," Dean mumbles into his neck. "Took you up my ass dry, didn't I?" There's a slight quaver in his voice when he says it, and he shifts against Sam, smoothing his hand down over his hip.
Sam frowns. That shaky voice hadn't bothered him so much when Dean was seconds from coming his brains out, but now it worries him. "Dean? What's up?"
Dean's fucked-out, voice a little hazy though still shaky. "Weird dreams," he murmurs. "Why I woke you up."
"Huh," Sam says. "Can we do that the next time I have a weird dream?"
Dean laughs, the sound deep and rough. "Maybe. Minus the part where we try shoving your huge cock up my ass without lube."
"Dude, you were begging me for it. What's a guy supposed to do?" Sam hides his smile in Dean's shoulder.
"Wasn't the brightest idea I've ever had." He smiles, and there's a serious tone to his voice when he adds, "You asked me for it. You really think I'd say no?"
And okay, maybe that makes Sam a little uncomfortable, because there's nothing he can say. He presses a kiss to Dean's jaw, smoothes a hand down Dean's arm. "Go back to sleep," he says.
"Sorry I woke you up," Dean murmurs, tugging Sam a little closer and closing his eyes.