#canon weirdcest

[panicroomsammy]

They really not only said we are going to create a parallel to the siren episode and Sam cheating on Dean with this Valentine’s Day episode about Dean cheating on Sam but we are going to call Sam a dumb stupid woman for not being mad about it

[dragonlands]

wincest fanon will never be able to compete with the canon, i was just casually watching supernatural when sam was like "hey dean what if we turned each other into frankenstein's monsters so that we could be together forever we wouldn't even need to kill that many people probably please big brother please <3"

[flowersintheimpala69]

classmate: dude i think you have a stalker.. I’ve noticed this guys that’s been following you around campus a lot and i saw him standing outside your dorm last night.. I’ve asked around and no one knows who he is, I don’t think he’s even a student here.. i think we should call campus security

Sam (who’s knows it’s just Dean): uhh

[sunbleachedf4wn]

sammy awakes the protective possessive wolfish alpha inside of dean. 😏

[deanscutiepiesam]

Sam and Dean are brothers first. In my opinion, anything romantic and/or sexual should be a lovely addition to their dynamic, not a complete change.

I feel like some fics forget about this. Let them bicker, let them argue, let them be toxic, let them be brothers. They'll never be a "normal" couple because of the nature of their relationship, (plus all their mental issues, trauma, & abuse but that's another conversation).

Their canon relationship shouldn't be disturbed. Everything else is a nice bonus, if that makes sense.

[inbredbrotherhood]

Wincest is truly love taken to the extreme. Devotion to the point of it being a religion all of its own. Closeness that can only be rivalled with splitting one open sternum to groin and reaching inside — touching something private and sensitive and painful. Something that is so far beyond codependency it doesn’t even have a proper name, overwhelming in its entirety.

There is truly not a love story as equally beautiful and sickening as Sam and Dean’s because it isn’t just love. It’s indifference, it’s hero worship, it’s something both sacred and deeply rooted within the world. Those boys love each other so much and so fiercely it’s a disservice to pretend that they don’t.

[deanofsam]

i fear i’m not as horny as some of you… what if i just want them to keep doing their weird not-doing anything forever. what if it was enough for me that they remain by each other’s side for the rest of time. what then

[bitchface24-7]

I don’t know how Sam Winchester does it. I’m an only child but every time he pops out those puppy dog eyes, I want to protect him and shield him from all the dangers in the world.

I want to cuddle him (even though he’s like 6’4 and I’m 5’3) I want to run my finger through his hair and comfort him. “No you’re not a freak, an abomination or weirdo. You’re my baby brother for all eternity; even when we die, you’re my baby brother.”

Call me Dean Winchester but… No matter how old Sammy gets, he’s still my baby. Like I get it Dean, I get it.

[samnarc]

Sam not enjoying Halloween as a teenager but always dressing up for Dean. Always wanting to see Dean's reaction when he walks out the bathroom dressed a random chick from a horror movie and headed to a 'party' (he's just going to hang out at the movies or the park, he couldn't stand parties.)

Dean sort of hates it, seeing his baby brother leave the house looking like a pervs dream guy. Or his. It obviously hurt his feelings too, seeing Sam smile and leave without a single word.

And when Sam comes back to the motel, Dean is all over him. Asking if anyone touched him, or even dared to look at him. All Sam does is reassure Dean that nobody has touched him and that he saved himself that night for Dean.

It was sort of a ritual — every year Sam dresses up just to come 'home' and have his overprotective boyfriend brother rip those skimpy clothes off. And they both know it was just a game to them, just a special foreplay that only happened on Halloween.

[winpeg]

this interaction but samdean

[mellow-trash-mentality]

Me : has a weirdcest sideblog

Also me : absolutely shocked to my core everytime wincest stuff shows up in canon

[buncoreclown]

Thinking about Dean seeing Sam doing things that are "motherly" and it sends a wave of possessiveness and need. When they have Jack and Sam treats him sweetly and reassures him (even though Dean doesn't really care about the kid) trying to relate and help him and all Dean can think is how much he wants to get his baby brother pregnant. It's impossible he knows this unless... No he can't do that. Can't use magic against his sweet baby brother but... It wouldn't be the first time he bypassed his bodily autonomy. So maybe he goes out on a "hunt" alone and maybe he meets a witch who maybe gives him something he can put in Sammy's food that makes it possible. Their sexual relationship is quite new only reaching the breaking point when they got the bunker hating to sleep in separate rooms and finding out separate beds also weren't their thing. It ended up with Sam on his back legs spread and tears in his eyes and Dean wanted him to cry his way through sex as teased about before.

So Dean did sneaking little bits of the potion in his portion of dinner and sneaking it into his green shakes before his runs and he fucked him raw same as before. Then one day Dean found Sam hugging the toilet as he groaned and his body lit up.

[flowersintheimpala69]

sam and blurry wife going to couples therapy and the therapists is like so tell me about your marriage. and blurry wife is like Sam’s still not over someone and sometimes it feels like his ghost is haunting our marriage. and therapist is like oh is this a past boyfriend? and wife is like no it’s his dead brother.

[sunbleachedf4wn]

sam doesn't top because he gets off on being a subby bottom bitch boy for his big brother.

[unsurprisinglyren]

Pre-series head canon; just before Sam is set to leave for Standford, Dean makes his move and forever changes the relationship between them.

What was between them, this twisted-up, perverse pleasure, nightly escapades and stolen glances, it was strung too tightly between them. A silk thread, poised to break. Delicate and beautifully brittle.

A glimmer of cobwebs stretched between Sam’s ribcage.

A gleam of gluttony in Dean’s gaze. Warm and improper; a secret held delicately between them both.

It had started innocuously enough. Not quite innocent. A press of Dean’s bicep against Sam’s arm as they sat side by side in an out of the way diners booth. Dad opposite them; talking some plan. A hunt. The typical salt-and-burn.

And Dean had felt the way Sam’s body had tensed. Saw the flicker of his eyelashes as he glanced first to dad, then down at his thick shake. The bright red straw, the ring of condensation left on the hard plastic tabletop when he lifted the drink to his lips.

And Dean had stared. Watching the way his little brother pursed his lips around the end of the straw, the way his cheeks hollowed out with each suck. The slurp and slosh of the milk shake. The very obvious obliviousness Sam was displaying.

The next time Dean had pressed his thigh hard up against Sam’s, instead. This time they were in a dingy cafe. Rundown. The waitstaff tired-eyed and slow-moving. It was late, or early, almost dawn. Not quite.

Sam had stiffened again, like last time. A slow tightening down the length of his spine. And something in Dean shifted, come undone. A slippery sort of emotion; a little like fondness, a lot like control.

A twisted sort of control. Where he used physical touch - wholly different than the usual shove or slap on Sam’s shoulder - this touch was private. Secluded. A brush of the back of his knuckles across Sam’s knee under the table. A lean into his personal space on the pretence of reaching for the sugar.

“Coffees too bitter.” He’d said, sparing Sam a glance and nothing more.

Sam didn’t rebuke it. Didn’t saying “but you like your coffee strong”. He sat very still and quiet, and let his big brother play.

It was only after dad and Sam had come to verbal blows about school and Sam’s future, that Dean ramped things up. There was a time limit now. He couldn’t lazily take his time; a touch here, a long look there. Couldn’t play this thing out slowly and sweetly, so he acted on impulse, beer sitting like a slosh of liquid courage and nausea in the pit of his gut.

He’d found Sam in the motel bathroom, red-rimmed eyes, cheeks rawed from crying. And really, Sam was wholly different than him and dad. Too soft. Too emotional.

Yet, despite dad’s opinion drilled into the very marrow of his bones - emotions are weakness - Dean rather liked the pinked cheeks and over-bright gaze.

“Come to have a go, too?” Sam had twisted up his mouth like he was biting back more words. Dean knew he wasn’t swallowing down the threat of fresh tears instead.

He stepped forward, casting a single look over his shoulder, but the motel room was empty, dad had taken off for some air. Hah. A stiff drink, more likely.

And Dean didn’t have a hope of convincing Sam to stay. Sam had made up his mind years ago. It was only a matter of time before dad and him went up like a powder keg, sparked and aflame and Dean stepped another step closer.

Sam’s gaze faltered, a little line of apprehension forming between his eyebrows. He didn’t understand what Dean was doing. His intentions. And to a degree Dean didn’t either. He was running on pure impulse and the dizzying need to close out this game of theirs before time was up.

“Dean?”

“Shut up.” It wasn’t meanly said. A breath. Quiet between them.

Shut up because it hurts to hear your voice.

Shut up because I’m mad at you. You’re going to leave me here with dad.

Shut up so I can kiss you.

And he did; a fumble of his fingers, outstretched, catching at the lapel of Sam’s jacket, drawing him in a step, another, until their toes bumped together, socked-feet, a rush of Sam’s breath, then Dean angled him down with a sharp tug at his jacket; and Sam went easily. Bending, dipping into the kiss like he’d expected it.

He hadn’t. Dean knew he hadn’t by the way his lips were trembling under Dean’s. Warm and not-quite pliant. But it changed swiftly, a lick of Dean’s tongue, just the tip, against Sam’s bottom lip. He tasted of salt from his tears. And something warmer. Heady and sweet and all Dean’s.

Sam opened for him; warmth and slickness and the barest little shudders of his body. It was enough. It had to be enough. It was chaste, broken by the sound of the impala’s engine, the slam of the drivers side door, the subsequent jangle of keys.

They broke apart just as dad entered. But it had been enough. The spark to light a bonfire. A pyre of wrongness and debauchery, yet oh so addictive.

A question that was left hanging between them, unanswered.

[deanscutiepiesam]

Dean braiding Sam's hair, save me. Dean playing with Sam's hair, save me. Dean washing and drying Sam's hair, save me. Dean gently pulling Sam's hair so his head tilts back and he can kiss him on the forehead, save me. Dean roughly pulling Sam's hair while he f — *gunshots*