#Wincest lens

[sounknownvoid]

why dean was absolutely frothing to kill chuck/God in s14-15 imo

By s14 we're slowly starting to see the big series villain-reveal is God (spoilers! - but it is a 15xseason series that ended almost 3+ years ago so ya know....catchup) aka chuck.

And you see dean descend into this despair n depression and then absolutely frothing-at-the-mouth-desperate to kill him - at.any.cost - including making Jack into a soul-bomb ... the kid that he did *this* for finally.... birthdays n teaching him to drive in the impala...

And there's been a ton of text on the ptsd dean is sufferring at that stage and it's finally cracked him up (totally plausible) and there's a ton of analysis on how the brother bond with sam talked him down and out of using jack n that the ends doesn't justify the means and "not at any cost" theme from sam and the fact that dean was willing to listen even in that moment (contrasted to chuck n amara) - & i read an awesome analysis n scene-by-scene n line by line breakdown on spn-blr the other day (I Rb-d it the other day) of how dean was stopped cold n brought out of his madness by sam asking him if he'd be willing to sacrifice him ie sam as well in his mad quest to kill God n how dean desperately pleads his case n that chuck MUST die....n I agree with all of it...

BUT what I haven't seen yet is any theories on WHY dean was so angry about it n absolutely crazy about killing god/chuck.... coz here's what's odd to me, about it being dean:

DEAN is the GOOD SOLDIER - he respects authority and father figures in general n even models himself in the patriarchical god's image (be it John or chuck I let you decide) - his whole "free will" thing is a sham / or only within narrowly defined confines acceptable to the patriarchs, because he's always been the one who's followed the rules set for him: by dad,by the hunting life chosen for him by dad, by societal norms,of "being a man", he's always toed the line set for him by dad n although he thinks angels are dickbags, he unquestionably thinks they're the "good guys" - or the "better" option against the alternative: demons n hell (s4 or anytime really even in midst of angel-wars)....he tends to be fairly black n white n even his "rebellion" is only when sam convinces him to walk off the board by saying no to Michael (s5) ...he may scoff at angels n God but he still thinks they're the "appropriate authority" n so while he's upset with how things are run, he's not after a regime change.... he's not the one into "free will" to the point that he'd be willing to kill the ONE TRUE PATRIARCHICAL AUTHORITY ie God...

That was always SAM's gig (n Lucifer)....SAM was the "it's not who you are, it's what you do n you can choose what you do"-guy, SAM was always the one questioning everything n never toeing the line and noticing the corruption in the system n pointing out alternatives n options to everything that they were "destined" for n told to be.... SAM was the one advocating for thinking for yourself...or hell, thinking at all, period... but yes, SAM was also the one with the faith in a higher power n the praying type n had been since his younger days - always the one wanting to believe that there was a higher authority that could save him, absolve him of his sins .... but also not really believing that he deserved to be saved if there really was such a higher power of good... he chose to have faith n hope despite it all...in God.

N then, after all that, they discover it was chuck after all... think about what it means to them in their pov, for a sec:

chuck wrote their lives the way it was with losing their families n letting demons at baby Sam n sam being sold to demon deal by their mother before he was born n dads rage n neglect n conflicted leading to both of them growing up so twisted n isolated n ...

Chuck wrote the big showdown n vessels for heaven n hell n the big throw down pitting brother against each other

Chuck wrote the dying n losing each other n pieces of themselves over n over n over n over n over...

Chuck wrote dean going to hell n sam being tortured in the cage for centuries...

Chuck wrote the big painful heartbreaking,soul-breaking breakups n the lack of trust sown between them by others n by themselves

Chuck wrote the tender moments n the "bro-ments" n "fan-fiction songs" n the caring for each other's wounds n the silent communication between them n the moments of ease n care n laughter n love...

...because, Chuck wrote them as soulmates - wrote the confusing n complicated feelings they had for each other n what it did to them growing up n even after - having to deal with it n figure it out n carry the burden of this connection that meant that they could never fully connect with anyone else despite their attempts n so grew isolated - that never went away even as it twisted n grew thorns n tore them to shreds n they could never let each other go even as it destroyed each other n themselves - because that connection wouldn't let them.... Chuck wrote that.

For his own sick pleasure n entertainment.... which means he heard ALL of sams desperate pleas n prayers throughout his life growing up...n enjoyed it even as he carried on turning the screws on sam (&by extn, dean in deans pov)....which means that all the faith n hope sam chose to put in him ie God- was completely misplaced n in fact in the literal wrong hands - talk about a violation worse than rape?... sam had his faith violated by the very God he chose to believe in after all he'd been through

N the thing is that just like when dean recoiled when John told him that he'd have to kill sam if he couldn't save him n got so mad at John for doing that to him....after he'd given him everything he had...

Similarly, Dean realised a lot of the above n what has him frothing is 2x main things in my mind:

The absolute fury at God for breaking his beloved brother's heart (n soul n mind n body) , doing this to him DELIBERATELY- ie he'd be outraged n furious on sams behalf n all that he's had to go through just for chucks shits n giggles... this would be the righteous big brother-dean fury of epic proportions...

This one I reckon is more on his/their personal behalf n by that I mean their "complicated feelings" for each other - knowing it was there n both felt it n they were brothers would have fked em up pretty badly....n dean especially, often said or did things explicitly to distance himself or sam when younger to deal with this in the "right way" - which absolutely made them both miserable n he hurt sam in the process...he knows sam similarly feels his own guilt n is the source of his self loathing n "uncleanness" just like it is source of dean's amongst others ....BUT by that late season-stage they had both grown to accept it n work with it and had arrived at an understanding of it and each other and by then, they'd felt like it was the "one thing they had of their very own" - not from hunting life,or something from dad or the devil or the destiny laid out for them etc, etc.... it was theirs - they'd found something precious n beautiful n unique n "special" in each other and WITH each other that they'd never found anywhere else n finally had stopped fighting it n had grown into it.....and EVEN THAT wasn't theirs n theirs alone- chuck wrote that....n to dean who'd have struggled with it so much - it'd feel like the one good, non-murdery place in himself n what he'd built with sam was also taken away/polluted n tainted by goddamn chuck....so it's deans violation too...

So yeah it's freewill that dean wants n is fighting to kill chuck for - but it's because it threatens their love n it's a choice that they both made together n he will not have that taken away

n this also is why he thought sam of all people would understand n see that n want to take his ie dean's side that chuck had to go no matter the cost

Anyways sorry it got long... but yeah...this is what my spn-brainrotted brain thinks on why dean was jonesing for chucks blood - coz it hurt sam n coz it invalidated/threatened the integrity of their choice to be who they were to each other....

[ro-sham-no]

i remember my college acceptance letter, a poem by me.

thanks to @samwhump for the encouragement :) <33333

[tiktaalic]

A bakudeku and a kiribaku kind of crazy. That’s like if someone who shipped destiel and someone who shipped sastiel worked the same shift

[theboykingsmichaelsword]

outsider pov was severely underutilized in spn like it's actually criminal the more you think abt it

[boywifesammy]

sometimes i’m sad but then i read a wincest case fic and i’m ok again

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

OMG, this is heartbreaking in that truly amazingly painful Supernatural way. Dean's POV on trying to stay a family with Sam. I LOVE IT!

[sounknownvoid]

💯 💯 this....

Even for wincest - hell, ESPECIALLY with wincest goggles on :- the sam-abuse becomes 10xtimes more horrific from that perspective as the seasons progress 😢 😳 😞 ....

#like no they would not fuck after that argument. if you understood the context of that argument you would want to throw up

big fan of not taking spn seriously except when u guys start romanticizing abuse without understanding that it is abuse. then im suddenly doctor killjoy snatching your shipping goggles off and flinging them into the trash before you can stop me

[flowersintheimpala69]

Hallucifer telling Sam that he’s his “bitch, in every sense of the word” in s7 ep2 is actually so crazy and maybe my fav thing ever?? Like it’s an implication of Lucifer raping Sam all on its own but with a wincest lens it’s also a reference to how dean calls Sam “bitch” in their “bitch, jerk” moments and AHHHHHHHHHHHH

like Lucifer calling Sam his “bitch” is not only sexual/intimate in the normal sense BUT also because that’s what Dean calls Sam?? Like it’s like hallucifer is comparing himself to dean??

This is SO so incoherent but like. Do you get what I’m grasping at. Does this make. Some. Sense. ??? UGHHDJDJJDJD

[vanitasmagoria]

they really went and showed us dean fondly musing on his encounter with a mlm wincest larper couple and what they told him; how he doesn't "get what the story's about": "to have a brother who would die for you, well, who wouldn't want that?"

so. this is dean, reflecting the epic love story of sam and dean, through a canonically romantic lens:

[my-prompt-dump]

Wincest/Gencest/Weirdcest

I can't remember if Charlie met Jack but no one here is dead and everyone is sorta friends.

Also was supposed to be a Fem!Sam au but I can always make another post with that version if any of you want!

---------------------------------------------------

Someone screams in the bunker and keeps screaming. It Dean was already up at the first scream and was about to run to whoever was in trouble until the door to his room opened with a bang.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS???"

It was Charlie, holding a... copy of Vogue Magazine? Ugh, Dean is too tired for this. He flops back down to sit in his bed. He's exhausted as fuck but he knows he can't go back to sleep now.

"Jesus, Charlie. I thought someone was dying"

"I wish I was! Cos you just scarred me for life!"

Dean looks at his phone to see that it was still 8 in the morning. Okay, too early.

"Will you two please shut up?" A voice says behind Dean. There buried under their blanket and a mountain of pillows is Sam, birds nest hair and all.

"No! Just- Here! What the shit is this?!"

She shoves the magazine right up to Dean's face and he takes it to see it better.

"Holy shit!"

He feels Sam sit up and position himself to look over his brother's shoulder.

"Oh. They actually did it."

"Man, looks like they weren't full of shit after all. Hey, Sammy, you think we can still get royalties from this?"

Charlie makes an indignant noise. "Huh???"

Dean is still grinning proudly but at least Sam sends an apologetic look her way.

"We were broke." He says like that explains everything. Sam must have seen the doubt in her face because he repeats himself.

"That's literally the whole story, Charlie. We were broke. Chuck didn't include this in the books?"

"NO?? What's the story of this then? Please elaborate for my sanity."

"I would like to know too."

They all turn to the door and see Castiel there, Jack smiling shyly behind him.

Sam and Dean share a look, doing that soulmate annoying silent telephatic talking voodoo whatchumacallit with each other.

Dean stares at the picture again on the page. A picture that takes up the entire spread of the page, followed by an interview with the owners of a booming clothing line.

The picture is him and Sam in their younger years, in a position that will never make people guess they were brothers. They are hugging and wearing clothes too fancy for either of them to ever own. Dean's back is to the camera, but his head is facing right so that his eye is still trained to the lens of the camera; protective and possessive. He's standing in between Sam who was sitting on a table, legs wrapped around his older brother's waist. Sam's arms are around his shoulders, fingers almost clawing his back. His brother's eyes are looking directly at the front; dangerous and equally possessive as Dean's.

Not only that, they were wet and made to look sweaty as fuck so it looks like it's a during-sex kinda shot.

Jeez, how did they agree to that. Not a single thing about this shot was promoting the clothes, you can't even see them properly!

"Alright, but no talking or we're stopping."

They all nod and begin to listen intently.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Flashback to teen Sam (19) and Dean (23) being banned from every bar at an nth mile radius because of constant hustling and brawls but they're almost out of the allowance John gave them.

John told them it'd be enough til he comes back and that they need to leave as soon as he's back so "no need to get a job, Dean".

Dean should've gotten one anyway just in case because even if he went and got one now, they'd be starving before he gets his first paycheck.

Sam was walking home from school one day and spots an ad stapled to a pole.

'Urgent: Looking for models for our clothing line! Not a scam! Inquire at XXX-XXX'

He thinks it over and says fuck it, he is not having junkfood for dinner again.

Arriving home, he slams the poster at the table where Dean was cleaning their guns.

"Fuck!"

Sam pays him no mind and just points at the thing.

"Let's do it."

At first Dean was confused but he sees the ad and raises an eyebrow at his brother.

"One day of our photos being taken and we'll get money enough to last us a week. Come on."

"Don't know what you're thinkin but we are not models, Sammy."

"We're not ugly, Dean."

"Being not ugly doesn't mean we can model, dude."

Dean would marry himself if he could, that is how good looking his brother thinks he is. Sam was relying on Dean's vanity to get him on board but this. This wasn't what he was expecting.

Well.

Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

"What? Lady-killer Dean Winchester is too chicken to be rejected and find out he's not that handsome after all?"

Dean freezes and Sam already knows he won.

Dean's pride is so easy to mess with.

------------

It's a starting clothing business that hopes to be big one day. They didn't want to spend too much money but figured that investing in good quality will get them far.

So when two guys in secondhand clothes from Goodwill came for the modelling job, they were hesitant. But when they were cleaned up by the crew, they look like proper models. Handsome, beautiful, pretty, fit, TALL.

Brothers they say but there's an air around them that they can use to say otherwise.

They dressed them up, did their make up, gave them a wet look for the final set and they were done.

Their first promotional poster was born.

Sam and Dean went home with a month's worth of cash and the company was left breathless.

It took them a while to get an audience to see them but it was that photo that blew the growing internet up and put them in the spotlight.

They have it framed in the middle of their new big ass studio like a trophy.

Years later, when they were reached out to by Vogue (VOGUE!!) for an interview about their journey, they knew what photo to use as a centrepiece for their page.

[allthesmutl0vers]

Entirely Forbidden and Completely Fucked. Wincest fanfic- Chapter Two

MDNI, 18+, NSFW

Pairing: Sam x Dean, Sam x Reader x Dean, Reader x John

Trigger Warnings: Graphic Wincest sex scene, implied feelings for John by the reader (no sex...yet)

Thank you so much for every like🫶 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Chapter Two

Y/n

“Come on guys, up at ‘em,” John says, ripping open the curtains. I cover my eyes with my arm to block out the sudden intrusion of light. 

Was this guy raised in a fucking barn? Who wakes people up like that?

Sam groans in the next bed but gets up, and Dean gets up without a word. I sigh, rub the sleep from my eyes, and stretch my arms out in front of me. “I’m going to get coffee, and I expect everyone to be ready to go when I get back,” John says, grabbing his keys. “Don’t be a dick,” he says to Dean, pointing a finger at him before walking out the door. 

I stand up, pull my hair back into a messy ponytail, and put on my black, square-lens glasses. My eye contacts dried out, and I don’t have another pair, which reminds me that I need to get my prescription transferred to wherever John and them live. 

I grab the backpack that I grabbed from the car last night and pull out another pair of shorts, a T-shirt, socks and underwear. 

“Going somewhere?” Dean asks, finally acknowledging my existence. 

“Considering I’m holding clothes, I’m going to say ‘to shower,’” I quip. I’m not a morning person, and Dean doesn’t get to be a fucking asshole and expect me to be nice before I’ve had caffeine. 

Dean rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Sorry, princess. You’re going to have to wait. I always go first.” He says, walking past me to the bathroom. 

I clench my jaw and take a deep breath. I’m too tired for this shit right now.  “Whatever, go,” I wave my hand and set my clothes on the bed. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Dean says with a mocking laugh and closes the door. 

I exhale deeply and rub my eyes under my glasses. I try to imagine what it must be like for him, going from not having or maybe even not knowing you have a half-sister to having her thrown at you. But at the same time, my Mom just fucking died. I don’t want to be here anymore than they don’t want me here. The only reason I am here is because I don’t turn eighteen for two months. But after that, I’m out of here.

“He’ll warm up. He just needs some time.” Sam says, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

I shrug. “It’s whatever. I’m going to smoke,” I respond, pulling my vape and dab pens from my bag and slipping on my Vans.

“Smoke like cigarettes?” Sam asks curiously. 

I stand up and face him, holding up my vape and dab pen. “No, smoke like a vape and some weed,” I flick them around in my finger and walk by him, opening the door. I turn around and look at him. “Wanna join?” I ask. 

Sam shakes his head, and the corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. “I’m good, maybe next time,” 

“Suit yourself,” I shrug and walk out of the hotel room and into the morning sun, closing the door behind me. I sit down on the steps and let out a sigh. 

Maybe I should just leave. I could say I’m going to the corner store for a vape and just take my shit with me. I have enough cash for a bus ticket wherever I want, and my inheritance will be mine once I turn eighteen. 

I think it over as I hit my vape and take a couple of hits off my dab pen. I have around two grand saved up from the job I had since mom never wanted me to spend my own money but to save it instead. I could definitely make it for two months if I stay in a cheap hotel and don’t go book or clothes shopping. I scoff to myself. 

Maybe just buy a couple of books to kill the time.

I sigh and decide that just leaving is my best option. Maybe I can’t go home, but I can stay in Washington, and that’s all I really want right now. I go to hit my vape again, and it’s dead. “Shit,” I mutter to myself and stand up. I groan in frustration.

I really don’t want to go back in there.

I weigh my options: either go to buy a new one or go back in to grab my backup. I don’t have my bags yet, so backup it is. I walk back to the hotel room and open the door, only to be staring right at an ass-naked Dean and a shirtless Sam. 

“Fuck!” Dean exclaims, covering himself up. “Would it kill you to fucking knock?” He asks me angrily. 

I look over at Sam, who is beet fucking red and throwing on a shirt. “Uh, I didn’t know I needed to,” I respond. 

“Well, get the fuck out,” Dean says as he marches over to me. He towers over me, not as much as Sam, but pretty damn close. 

“Last time I checked, I’m staying here too, asshole,” I push past him and grab my clothes and walk to the bathroom. I close the door and lean against it, the steam in the air warming up my skin. 

I thought Dean was showering. So why is Sam’s hair wet, too? What the actual fuck did I just walk into? Or, almost walk into? Were they…no. No, no fucking way. I’m just tired, that’s all. 

I’m not thinking straight. 

No fucking kidding. 

I hurry up and take my shower, being as quick as I can. Just as I turn the water off and step out I hear John’s voice. “Where’s y/n?” He asks. 

“Shower,” that’s Sam’s voice. 

I quickly get dressed so I don’t keep them waiting. I need enough time to give them my excuse and grab my bags before they realize I’m gone. I curse myself for spending precious seconds wondering why Dean and Sam’s hair was wet at the same time, which was fucking stupid. Men shower faster than women, and I was outside for at least fifteen minutes. They probably showered one after the other. They must have. 

A knock sounds on the door. “Chop, chop, kid. Time to get a move on,” John says from the other side. 

“Coming,” I respond, opening the door and putting my glasses back on. “I need to run to the corner store. What time were you planning on heading out?” I ask John as I grab my bag.

“Right now. We can stop on the way out of town,” he says, handing me a coffee and pulling his keys back out of his pocket. 

Goddamnit. There goes my shot to do it now.

“Oh, so you’ll stop for her but not us?” Dean remarks, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“Shut up and load the damn car, Dean,” John says, tossing Dean his keys. “We have a long drive back to Kansas, and there will be other opportunities to stop. So quit your bitching.”

Hold up, did he just say Kansas?

“Need me to carry your bag?” Sam asks me, pulling me from my thoughts on improvising another way away from them. 

“Huh? Oh, no, I’m good. Thank though,” I smile softly and walk past him and John and out the door. 

I throw my backpack in the back seat, pull out my dab pen, take another big hit, and bend over, coughing hard. I don’t know when we’ll be stopping next and I don’t think John would want me smoking in the car, so I want to make it count. 

“You good?” Dean asks, standing next to me by the passenger front door. 

“I,” I cough again. “I’m fine. What do you care?” I ask, blinking away the tears from coughing so hard. 

“I don’t,” Dean shrugs. “Just don’t feel like burying a body today.” He says cooly.

What the fuck?

“Very funny, Dean,” I roll my eyes and take another hit, my head already feeling lighter. 

“I wasn’t joking. I’m not in the mood for it today. What are you even smoking anyway?” He asks, pointing to my dab pen in my hand.

I blow the smoke in his face. “You tell me,” I quip with a smirk before coughing again, this time not as bad. 

“Smells like weed, but not?” Dean guesses. 

“Wow, really perspective,” I say sarcastically. “It’s a dab pen.”

“Dab pen?” Dean asks curiously, sipping his coffee. “What is that? Some kind of new weed or something?”

“It’s weed; it's just processed into an oil, which is what’s in here,” I explain, pointing to the oil in the tank. “It makes it more discrete, the smell isn’t as strong, and I don’t have to whip out a bong and spend twenty minutes finding a lighter. Plus, it’s more potent.” I explain. 

Dean pokes out his bottom lip and nods in interest. “Hm, alright then.”I nod, pull out my backup vape, and take a hit off of that as well. “And what’s that?” he asks.

“It’s a nicotine vape. I hate the smell and taste of cigarettes.” 

Dean actually laughs. “Same here,” he says, looking over his shoulder back at the hotel room. “Look,” he says, facing me again. “I’m sorry about yesterday, I shouldn’t have been such a dick.”

“I get it,” I shrug. “John said you’re a little standoffish.”

“You say John a lot,” he says curiously. “He’s your dad too, isn’t he?”

“Depends on your definition of ‘dad,’” I tell him as I lean against the Impala. “Biologically, yeah, he is. But other than that, he’s just a guy who randomly came around once or twice a year when he had ‘business in town,’” I air quote with my fingers. 

Dean nods, and his jaw ticks again. “Do you know what that business was?” he asks. 

I shake my head. “Didn’t bother to ask, and he didn’t bother to explain.” 

Dean nods again. “Well, look,” he sighs and scratches his head. “I’ve never had a sister before. It’s only ever been me and Sammy, so…” 

“Don’t worry, I won’t be around that long,” I look over the car into the distance. 

“Oh, um, okay,” Dean says with a hint of surprise in his voice. 

“Alright, let's roll,” John says as he and Sam approach the car.

We all climb in, me and Sam in the back and Dean up front with John. 

I wonder if I can get a map of bus routes along the way.

Sam

This morning was too close a call. Me and Dean know how long Dad takes to get coffee, but I got so caught up in the heat of the moment, that I completely forgot she was there when I went to shower with Dean. It was worth every second of it, though, and I can’t bring myself to regret it. 

Having her here has brought up feelings that I wasn’t prepared for. When she walked through the door with Dad… Fuck, I haven’t looked at anyone like that besides Dean in so long. My dick was entirely confused. And I can’t help then whenever Dad mentions that she’s our sister, half or full, it doesn’t matter. My dick swells in my jeans. 

I shouldn’t want her this way. 

To be fair, I shouldn’t want Dean this way, either, but I do. I can still remember the day the dam finally broke between us. We were at Bobby’s two years ago, and Dad had dropped us up for a week. 

“Hey,” I greet Dean, opening the door to the garage. He’s pissed that Dad left us here. He said he had business to take of in Washington and that we had to stay here.

Dean looks up from the car he’s taking apart. “Hey, Sammy,” he says, leaning back over the open hood. His shirt is tucked into his back pocket, and sweat drips down his chiseled chest. I’ve never been so nervous in my life, but this is Dean. If I can tell anyone anything, it’s Dean.

It’s always been Dean.

I clear my throat and step closer, tucking my hands into the front pockets of my jeans. “So, um, I want to talk to you about something,” I start to say, but when he looks up at me with that smoldering gaze, the words escape my mind. 

Dean looks me up and down, wiping his hands on the shirt in his back pocket, and stands up straight. “What?” he asks.

It shouldn’t be this hard, but my hands shake, and the cut on my abdomen stings. I bite the corner of my lower lip. Should I just come out and say it? 

Dean walks closer, noticing my nervousness. “How’s your cut?” he asks, reaching for the end of my shirt. 

“It’s,” I clear my throat. “It’s okay,” I lie. It hurts like a bitch, but I won’t admit it.

Dean lifts my shirt, revealing the cut that he mended last night. “I thought we agreed to never lie to each other Sammy,” he says without looking at me. His fingers graze the gauze taped over the wound.

My skin heats at his touch, taking my mind off of the sting. “We did,” I agree, watching as his gaze moves from my wound and up to my eyes and his eyebrows furrow. I take a deep breath, and Dean watches as my jaw ticks. “But we’ve both been lying for a long time,” I tell him, hoping he’ll know what I mean. 

Dean sucks in a breath, and I know he gets what I mean. Of course he does, he always knows what I’m thinking, as do I for him. Dean backs up and shakes his head slightly. “We can’t go there, Sammy. Once we do, there’s no going back.” He says with a disappointed sigh. 

“Who said anything about going back?” I ask. My heart races in my chest, and my hands shake when I pull them out of my pockets. 

“Sammy,” Dean says like a warning. I watch his chest rise and fall heavily. I know he wants this too, if only he’d just admit it. 

“I’m tired of denying it, Dean. I want you. Only you, all the time,” I admit. “In bed, in the shower, any and everywhere. Stop being so stubborn it’s-”

Dean cuts me off, grabbing my face with his hands and pressing his lips to mine. My lips melt into his, and everything we’ve never said aloud is poured into the kiss. My hands grip the waistband of Dean’s pants and pull him closer. 

Dean’s tongue dips out, licking between my lips and begging for access. I open my mouth and allow him inside, and his tongue licks the roof of my mouth and my tongue making my cock strain against the inside of my jeans. I suck on his tongue and bite it softly, dragging it between my teeth and making Dean groan. 

 Dean pulls back, and we each suck in a desperately needed breath. Our foreheads are pressed together as we share breaths back and forth. “We should stop,” Dean says softly. 

“We definitely should,” I respond, but neither of us steps back. 

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean mutters, his hands slide from my face to my neck, slide up the back and into my hair, gripping it in his fingers. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“Show me,” I lean down and kiss his neck right behind the shell of his ear. 

Dean groans and tilts his head to give me more access. I bite the sensitive skin behind his ear before sucking. Dean’s fingers grip my hair, making me hiss in pleasure. “Fuck it,” he groans and pulls back out of my grasp. 

Dean rips down his pants and boxers, and my mouth waters at the sight, just like it always has. We’ve showered and slept in the bed together. I’ve seen his cock before, but knowing I get it this time makes pre-cum drip from my tip as I pull my pants down. 

Dean kicks his pants to the side and stalks toward me. He grabs my cock in his hand and kisses me in one fluid motion. I moan into the kiss and pump his cock in time as he pumps mine, rubbing his thumb over my tip, coating my cock with my pre-cum. 

Dean pulls back and spins me around, pushing my chest against the side of the car he was working on. “Pass me that jar, Sammy,” he demands gruffly. 

I pass him the jar of coconut oil and rub my cock as I feel Dean’s lubed fingers rub my ass, pushing in and scissoring his fingers to open me up. “Fuck, Dean,” I groan, my balls tightening and threatening to burst. 

“You like that?” He asks, biting my shoulder harshly and making me hiss as his teeth pierce the skin.

“Fuck, yes,” I moan, my eyes hooding. His fingers leave my ass, and I feel the head of his cock  press up against my tight ass. My fingers grasp for hold on the top of the car, and my head falls back as Dean pushes himself inside deeper. “God,” I moan.

Dean grips my hips and thrusts in fully. “Don’t pray to him, little brother. He’s nowhere near here,” Dean groans, pulling back and thrusting in hard with a moan. “Pray to me, I’m the one fucking you.”

I moan as Dean pulls back and thrusts in again faster. Dean grips my hair and pulls, making my eyes roll into the back of my head. “Fuck, yes, Dean,” I moan between heavy breaths. 

Dean continues to fuck me like a man possessed, his cock hitting a g-spot I didn’t know I had inside of my ass. “Damn, Sammy, Fuck… I’m gonna cum.” Dean moans as I feel his cock swell inside of my ass. 

“Fuck, me too, Dean,” I moan, my balls tightening impossibly tight. I wrap my hand around my cock and pump it with my hand, matching Dean’s harsh thrusts. After a few more thrusts, I feel Dean’s cum fill me as mine paints my hand and the side of the car, our breathing heavy and staggered as he pulls out and spins me around, kissing me again. This kiss isn’t heated. It’s soft and gentle. 

“No going back,” Dean says like a promise, holding my gaze with hooded eyes. 

“No going back,” I agree with a smile. 

I adjust myself and clear my throat. The memory makes my cock swell in my jeans. Y/n looks over at me, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. I smile at her with pursed lips, and she rolls her eyes and looks back out of the window. 

I take a moment to take her in. Her bare legs under her short ripped denim shorts, the black band T-shirt with ‘A Day To Remember’ written across the front. Fuck, she looks so good with glasses too. The black-rimmed ‘nerd glasses’ really do something to me, along with her long, almost black hair that reaches her waist. The perfect length to grab and hold tight as you plow into her. 

God, now I’m hard again. 

My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out and see a text from Dean.

Dean: What are you looking at?

Me: Nothing.

Dean: Bullshit. Why are you staring at her?

Jealous much?

I chuckle silently and text back.

Me: Who do you think?

Dean: Not me, and that pisses me off. Stop it.

Me: Jealous?

Dean: Hardly. 

Me: Don’t act like she’s not hot. She’s exactly your type.

Dean: She’s our sister.

Me: Half-sister. And you’re my brother. That didn’t stop you this morning. 

Dean lets out an annoyed sigh in the seat in front of me. 

Dean: Point made. So, what? Do you wanna bring her into this? That’ll go over well. 

Me: I’m just saying it’s an option. 

Dean: She’s leaving soon anyway. Don’t bother.

I stare at my phone, confused. What does he mean? She’s ours now, that’s why Dad went to get her.

Me: What are you talking about? She just got here.

Dean: And she doesn’t want to stay. She told me this morning, so leave her out of it. 

Me: She can’t. She’s not even eighteen yet.

Dean: She will be in 2 months, that’s when she’s leaving. 

Me: That’ll go over well with Dad. 

Dean: What does? Stop texting me. Dad keeps looking at us. We’ll talk about it later.

I look up and see Dad looking at me in the rearview mirror with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t know about me and Dean, obviously, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t suspect anything. Especially when Dean fought going with him to pick up y/n because he ‘needed to stay and protect me.’ I look away from the rearview mirror and look out the window. I don’t want y/n to leave, but I don’t know if I can trust her yet, either. 

What a fucking mess.

Y/n

We finally pull into another hotel somewhere on the boarder of Wyoming and Colorado. I get out and stretch while John goes to get a room. I grab my backpack from the backseat and close the door. 

“So,” Sam clears his throat, talking to me. “Long car ride,” he says awkwardly. 

I purse my lips into a smile and nod. “Yeah, he doesn’t like to stop, does he?” I ask jokingly. 

Sam laughs as Dean gets out of the car, too. “No, not really.”

“He would’ve just kept going if you weren’t here,” Dean says, stretching his arms over his head. 

“Oh,” I respond, trying to ignore the dig at my presence. “Sorry.”

Dean shrugs. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just trying to make sure you’re comfortable. I don’t mind stopping,” Dean smirks. 

I nod and pull out my vape, taking a drag off of it and blowing the vapor into the air above me. “Think he’ll be able to get one with three beds this time?” I ask Sam and Dean. 

They both laugh and shake their heads. “Not likely. But he’ll probably take the couch again,” Sam responds. 

John comes back with the key, and we all carry our bags to the room. I put my bags by the bed furthest from the door and sit down on the edge. Sam and Dean put their bags on either side of the other bed in the room. 

“I’m going to get burgers,” John announces as he sets his bag on the other side of my bed. “Do you want to come with me?” he asks me as he hands Sam and Dean a second copy of the hotel key. 

I’m not sure if I want to leave or not, and I don’t know how to tell him. 

“She can stay here,” Dean says flatly. “We should probably have the talk with her anyway,” Dean says to John with a serious and mysterious tone of voice. 

John narrows his eyes at Dean and nods before turning back to me. “Stay in the room unless one of them goes with you. I’ll be back,” is all he says before walking out of the hotel room and closing the door behind him. 

“What talk?” I ask, looking over at Sam and Dean. 

They look at each other and then back to me. “You said you don’t know what business Dad is in, right?” Sam asks. 

“Yeah, no clue. Is he in like the mob or something?” I ask jokingly. 

“No, he’s a hunter,” Dean responds, clearing his throat. “All of those things you read about in fairy tales growing up are real,” Dean explains. 

I blink a few times, wondering if he’s fucking with me. He has to be. “Right,” I drawl out. “Next, you’re going to tell me you just live in a dragon-guarded castle,” I joke back with a small laugh.

“Not a castle, a bunker,” Sam corrects.

“And it’s not guarded by a dragon, but it is warded,” Dean adds. 

I can’t help but laugh at their serious faces. The first I’ve laughed since I lost Mom. Sam and Dean look at me like I’m crazy, and Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m sorry,” I laugh. “I’m sorry, it’s just,” I chuckle, my laugh dying down. “You can’t be serious.”

Dean stands up and grabs something from John’s bag and sits down next to me. “See for yourself,” he says, handing me a leather-back journal. I look at him with a raised eyebrow, and he nods to the journal in my hands. “Open it, it’s dad’s, you can look at it,” he says seriously. 

I open the journal, and I can’t believe my eyes as I turn the pages. There are what look like entries with names, dates, places, and all different kinds of creatures. “All of this is real?” I ask as I skim the pages.

Sam sits down on my other side. “Yeah. This is what we do. We travel around the country and hunt these things,” Sam explains. 

I look up at Sam, the journal resting open on my lap. “How do you know where they are or what they are?” I ask curiously.

Dean takes the journal from my hands and flips through it before finding the page he wants and shows me. “This is the newspaper article,” he says, pointing to a clipping that’s paperclipped to the side of the page. “It talks about people going on a killing spree, in this case, killing their entire family. Only to disappear and never be seen again,” Dean explains the article to me. 

“But that happens sometimes, doesn’t it? I mean, there’s serial killers and family annihilators in prison for the same thing,” I mention as he flips the article to show the entry underneath.

Dean nods. “Yes, there are. But in this town, it happened to three separate families. That’s what makes it our kind of case,” Dean explains. 

“So, what kind of monster is that then? A vampire?” I ask.

“Shape-shifter,” Sam corrects on my other side. “Vampires can’t come out in the daytime; they’ll burn.”

I nod and look back at the journal. “And that’s a shape-shifter?” I ask, pointing to a still photo of a man, his eyes glowing. 

“Yes,” Dean answers. “See how his eyes glow in the picture? That’s how you can tell.”

“So, what does it look like? Like, not in a human?” I ask.

“Nobody knows. Nobody has seen one in its own skin and lived to talk about it,” Dean responds.

“This is freaky,” I murmur, shaking my head. “So you guys kill these things?” I ask them both.

“Sometimes, but they’re pretty rare, actually. Our biggest problems are usually vampires, werewolves, and demons. And a few ghosts,” Sam explains calmly. 

“Did you say…demons?” I ask, confused. “Like wings and shit like that?” 

Sam and Dean chuckle and shake their heads. “No, they look like regular people because they possess their bodies,” Sam explains. 

“I’m sorry, did you just say they possess people?” I ask, shocked. “Like, they just walk around and act like regular people?” 

“Not exactly. There are different kinds. Some are relatively harmless, just happy to be out of Hell. Some make deals with people, and those are called crossroads demons. Stay away from them,” Dean explains. 

I shake my head as I try to wrap my mind around what they’re telling me. “So you mean to tell me that vampires, werewolves, shape-shifters, demons, all of those are real?” I ask, looking down at the floor. 

“There’s more-”

I cut Dean off. “There’s MORE?!” I practically scream. 

“Calm down, you’re safe with us. Yes, there are more things out there, and you’ll learn about all of them and how to keep yourself safe. We’ll teach you, and Dad will too,” Sam assures me, placing a hand gently on my back and rubbing small circles. 

“This is crazy,” I shake my head. The room suddenly feels too small, and I need to get out. I stand up and grab my vape.

“Where are you going?” Dean asks, standing up too. 

“I need some air,” I shake my head. As I walk toward the door, it opens, and I jump nearly out of my skin. 

“Looks like someone took it well,” John says, walking in and placing the food down on the table. “Knew that  I should’ve done it myself,” he shakes his head and walks over to me. “You alright?” he asks, placing his hands on my shoulders. 

I nod once. “I’m fine. I just need some air,” I mutter. 

“I’ll come with you. It’s dark out,” John says, looking over my shoulder at Sam and Dean. “Food’s on the table; we’ll be back,” he says to them. He puts an arm over my shoulders and walks outside with me. We take a seat on the steps, looking out over the empty parking lot. “It’s a lot to take in when you first learn about it,” John says softly as I hit my vape. 

“How did you find out about it?” I ask, not looking at him. I can tell I struck a cord asking when he sucks in a deep breath and lets it out in a huff. 

“After my wife died,” he says softly. I turn to look up at him, feeling sorry for him. I can’t imagine what that’s like. “She died when Sammy was just a baby, and Dean was about four. A demon killed her,” John explains sadly. 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, wishing I hadn’t asked. 

John takes a breath and sighs. “Thank you, y/n. I loved your mom, too. Sheila was…” he looks out over the parking lot. “Special.”

“Yeah, she was,” I agree, fighting back the tears at the fact I’ll never get to talk to her again. I sniffle, and John wraps an arm around me and hugs me to his side. 

“Cry if you need to, honey, it’s okay,” he assures me, and that itself breaks the dam. The tears fall down my cheeks, and I lean into him for support. John hugs me and shushes me gently. He doesn’t tell me it’s going to be okay, and he doesn’t tell me it’s going to get better or easier; he’s just there. And for the first time in my life, I’m thankful he is. 

After I’m finished crying, John stands up and gives me a big bear hug. We go inside and eat dinner, and for the first time everyone is civil and even joking around. When it comes time to go to bed, I change into my pajamas and climb into the hotel bed. John offers to sleep on the couch, but I tell him that he can share the bed with me. He’s my dad, after all and I feel bad that he slept on a too-small couch last night. John gets under the covers with me, and as soon as my head hits the pillow, I’m out. Who knew crying could make a person so tired?

Chapter Three

[idlingintheimpalapodcast]

New Episode Alert: (Gently) Taking Authors To Task - Sam_Is_My_Safe_Word’s “Scents of Home”

Weeeee did a thing!!

@sam-is-my-safe-word, @talltalesandbedtimestories & @runawaydr3amerao3 lost our collective minds in March & signed up for the @wincestbigbang (It's Kasey's fault. Blame them. Dreamer has receipts.)

But now the bang is over, the stories have been posted, and we're breaking down the experience.

Second up is Kasey with the longest thing they've ever written in one go. Scents of Home is a look at love through the lens of scents & smells, gender identity issues, mental breakdowns and really hot sex. Like seriously. It takes you on a rollercoaster but it always comes back to love.

Read Kasey's Fic Listen on Spotify Watch on Youtube:

Timestamps

00:00:00 - Intro

00:01:00 - How Kasey, Dreamer, and Sandra got into the 2024 Wincest Big Bang

00:04:05 - This is Kasey’s first Big Bang

00:06:21 - What drew Kasey to the challenge?

00:14:06 - Where did the story idea for Scents of Home originate?

00:23:50 - Scents of Home summary

00:38:30 - What were some scenes Kasey wanted to write?

00:51:30 - Dean cries a lot in this fic

00:53:45 - Kasey had to cut some of the smut for… reasons

00:56:10 - The story shift and the Jacksonville, Florida event

00:58:30 - Stumbling on Poughkeepsie and finding a case for the boys

01:10:15 - How Kasey made scents of the story

01:12:15 - The happy ending and what ifs of Home

01:13:40 - The evolution of Vanilla

01:15:00 - Did the story end up the way Kasey had first envisioned?

01:24:50 - The gender fluid of it all

01:33:40 - What would Kasey have changed if there weren’t specific story points Dreamer wanted them to hit?

01:49:55 - How irritated is Kasey about having to post the entire fic in one go?

01:50:30 - Kasey’s thoughts about the Bang process and schedule

01:54:10 - Kasey’s artist partner, malefantasy

01:56:30 - The possibility of art in Scents of Home

02:02:40 - Going back to the original story idea at some point

02:05:25 - Apologies for Junkies

02:07:03 - Would Kasey do another Big Bang?

02:12:00 - Final thoughts and outro

[tsukiyo-7]

societal taboos are funny that way. enjoying fictional mass murder, torture, blahblah? no proooooblem. demon dean was fun, boyking Sam my beloved, cas should've murdered MORE angels actually, spn is my favorite show etc.

consensual adult siblings (also fictional) incest? IMMORAL u heathens.

I think it's just because people don't act on an actual real moral compass or rational thinking but more on the very narrow and black and white basis "this makes me uncomfortable therefore is bad".

The general audience is used to blood, gore and sex, but everything is always filtered in a specific cultural lens; if before we had more variety and wiggle room in what the media portrayed, now most of the mainstream is the offspring of the U.S.A. and these illusory "western values" that, as European, I firmly believe are made up bullshit (but that's a discussion for another time).

Anyway, in this specific lens that I'm sure you can guess what it is, if and when incest is contemplated it's always cishet, between twisted motherfuckers (allow me the scientific term lol) or used for shock value and generally described as an unfortunate affair. And people can be okay with that, it disturbs them, sure, but they can move on with their perception intact. Look at the success Game of Thrones had.

The problem with Wincest, I think, is the fact that for starters we're put in a place in which Sam and Dean are the good guys. Your perception of their actions is increasingly altered as you progress, although they murder a worrisome amount of people, you still end up rooting for them. In the second instance, a relationship between them would be queer in a way people aren't used to seeing because they're not quirky or kinky or wholesome and their entire personality and story doesn't evolve around their identity. They're just some dudes, albeit a bit weird, probably perceived as peak masculinity, if the popularity of the show among the military is anything to go by. And finally, their love is destructive yes, but infinitely tender; they care for each other to an unbelievable extent and there's no denying that even if you don't ship them romantically.

You're forced to acknowledge the fact that something can exist beyond everything you've always been taught and believed in so far and that makes people more uncomfortable than a depiction of abuse ever will.

[frasier-crane-style]

Fanfic is cringe--nothing with that much Wincest in it can't be--but I will be a booster for it. All the time, I see fanboys talk about their ideal MCU phase or how they would've made a shared universe out of Superman Returns and Batman Begins.

I just want to shake them and say "Hey! What you're feeling is the call to artistic expression. It's a good thing, but you're relieving it by role-playing a studio executive--you know, the guys who added a voiceover to Blade Runner? They blow."

What they should do instead of imagining this perfect world where they get a Batman movie that ties into a Green Lantern movie that has a cameo from the Flash... is try to picture this ideal Batman movie they want to watch. They've probably already come up with the basics. Who the villain is, how they want the story to start and end, what it should adapt.

I want to tell them, okay, go further now. Imagine you're watching this movie. Not just who you'd fan-cast as the perfect Catwoman or Alfred or Joker. What would be the first image shown after the studio logos? What would be the first line of dialogue?

It doesn't have to be super-specific, just imagine what you're seeing and how it makes you feel. Now try to describe it in prose. You can use screenplay format if you really want to, but prose is actually a lot more freeing, and do you really want to role-play a screenwriter? The guys who wrote The Rise of Skywalker?

Is it raining? That's great. Describe what kind of rain it is. Light and drizzley? Really hard and heavy? Consider the words you use to be your mental camera. If your opening scene is the Joker murdering someone, consider how you'd 'film it'. Would we follow the Joker around or see his victim in her last few minutes of life? You can't decide what music is playing or what camera lens is being used, but you can set a tone.

Now go forward a bit. You probably have the next plot point figured out already. Maybe it's something like "the people of Gotham are fed up with Batman." Think of how you could demonstrate this in terms of something shown to the audience instead of told to them. Maybe a bunch of people are holding a rally against Batman? Or someone sees the Batsignal and reacts negatively to it? Or the Batmobile?

It doesn't have to be the perfect solution to the problem of showing Gothamites angry at Batman. Just try something and if you absolutely can't think of anything, skip ahead and leave it for later.

By the time you're done, you will have written at least part of a story. It is time-consuming, but by the time you're done, I think you'll be more pleased with yourself. Which is better, beating a tough game or playing it until it gets hard and giving up on it?

You don't even have to finish it. Most movies these days are barely finished. What's important is saying that a story is not totally satisfying you and trying to write one that would. It doesn't matter if you succeed or not. What matters is trying to share your vision and hoping it strikes a chord.

[saltbind]

thinking abt sam and how every time he has a relationship with a woman it’s in dean’s absence. thinking abt how, viewed through a wincest lens, this goes for jessica as well.

sam knowing that when he’s with dean there’s no room in his life or heart for anyone else and, believing it to be unreciprocated, leaving to try and have something that is both mutual and not quite so fucked up.

sam ending up back with his brother on the road again and all dean’s resentment for him leaving.

sam alone after dean’s death. dean’s damnation being for him. ruby stringing him along with hope for resurrection in order to prevent him from burning dean’s body and throwing himself on the pyre too. her purposefully mimicking dean and, once he’s hooked on her blood, steering him towards revenge when resurrection is impossible.

sam alone again after dean vanishes into purgatory. no idea where he is, and last time he fucked it up so bad that his and dean’s relationship may never fully recover and the world nearly ended. last time dean had told him to move on and he doesn’t have guidance this time, so he does what he was supposed to do last time. he tries to move on. this, too, is wrong.

imagine: sam realizing the problem is jealousy and always has been. sam shouting dean down and saying it explicitly: he can only have these things when dean isn’t there, and he still would rather have dean.

sam admitting that ruby saved his life and that without her they would have had to raise both brothers from the dead for the apocalypse plan to work. sam admitting that he had gotten very close to admitting himself to a psych ward again before he found amelia. sam getting frustrated that dean doesn’t understand, still, that it’s both of them.

sam asking if dean would rather he’d gone off the rails again, gotten addicted to demon blood or worse, taken over Hell trying to find him, made deals with anything that held a shred of power

sam asking what would have been enough to prove himself when he’s already fought back the memories of centuries of hell just to stay with dean

[deanscutiepiesam]

Listened to Work Song by Hozier with a wincest lens, and now I'm crying wtf