So I wrote this with the intention of continuing with it…But from where I have stopped all I foresee is PWP centered around Dean's new whip kink…I dunno if I should continue…Read it and then tell me what y'all think?
Dean watched from the hood of the Impala as Sam stood in the middle of a large field wielding a leather whip.
To start with this had sort of come up as a joke. The Winchester Boys had been having an Indiana Jones marathon and Dean had said that maybe they could learn to use them- "To you know, add to our weapons."- Or so he had said. Sam then proceeded to tell Dean that he knew how to use one.
"What? Since when?"
"Learned to use one at Stanford. Random hobby and Jess liked it."
"Dude, you did everything at Stanford, didn't you?" Dean queried with a grin at Sam's shrug, "Can you still use one?"
"I'm out of practice. It's been too long."
"But you could if you were to practice again?" This got a nod accompanied by a strange look from Sam who looked away in time to miss the imp like smirk on Dean's lips.
What they hadn't counted on was actually needing Sam's lost skill for a job about a week later.
"Whatever this thing is, whips scare the piss out of it and the wielder can tame the thing to get rid of it."
"How do you get rid of it once it's tamed, Bobby?"
"Sauté on high." The elder man smirked at Dean.
"Well, Sammy, looks like you need to practice after all." This got a strange look from Bobby between the two of them and a heavy sigh out of Sam.
"Alright, I suppose I can drag it out."
Dean stared at his little brother incredulously, "Wait, you have one!"
Yes he did. Sam had what looked to be ten and a half feet worth of leather right there. How the hell Sam could wield something that effing long was beyond Dean. Though if he was being honest- as it was just himself right then- Sam was fucking hot as hell as he practiced in the silent field.
It was the middle of July, the sun was starting to set, the grass went on for miles, and Sam stood alone in the middle of it all. He'd discarded his over shirt and stood now in a pair of well fitting jeans, and a white sleeveless shirt- his drool worthy toned arms on perfect display.
The silence and bliss of the area was broken by the incessant "CRACK!" of the whip as it rent the air after each snap of Sam's arm.
In Dean's mind, the sight was absolutely perfect. But Sam seemed frustrated as he cussed and stalked back to the Impala.
"What's the matter Sammy?"
"I need dirt or gravel. Grass doesn't give me enough traction right now, and if we want me to get this right I need traction."
Dean quirked a brow but nodded, "Well let's see if we can find you a dirt or gravel area."
~ S + D = 3 ~
So? What do y'all think? Would y'all continue to read it even if it is just PWP?