Daddycest (mostly deanjohn) and wincest, as well as gen John content. Anyone can interact. Main blog is @androgenough. Icon was grabbed from @jellybracelet's edit.
- Morgan / 24 yo / They/them / Androgyne / Polysexual
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'he would not fucking say that' maybe he would if he knew he was starring in his very own porn fic for the sole purpose of delighting some freaks on archive of our own dot org. maybe he'd play it up for the cameras. ever consider that
I found my full notes laying out a deanjohn smut scene from Sam's POV that I jotted down forever ago and tomorrow I plan to write and post it in my spare time. I can finally once again feel Active and Good Enough to be in Fandom, something that is both normal to want and possible to achieve
Currently thinking of Sam sitting sulking at the motel table while Dean smiles brightly and waves goodbye to Dad. It’s an act, it’s always an act - Sam lives for the days when it’s just him and Dean, no Dad getting in the way and causing fights, and Dean hates being left behind while Dad heads out to risk his life again. The only thing that makes it bearable is Sammy.
Pretty, pretty Sammy, all gawkish limbs and knobby knees and floppy hair and pointy features he hasn’t quite grown into yet. Pretty, pretty Sammy who will swear up and down that two and two makes six if it’s Dad asking, but agrees with Dean when he looks at the midday sky and calls it green. Pretty, pretty Sammy who Dean can’t stop touching, even when Dad’s right there in the front seat or across the table in a diner or barely sleeping in the next bed.
So Dean watches as Dad drives off, until he can’t see the sleek black Impala, until the rumbling growl of her engine doesn’t reverberate in his bones, until he’s sure Dad is gone and he sees some middle aged dick checking in next door, and that means it’s time to play.
Sam’s already abandoned his homework on the table, and his clothes on the floor, and is kneeling in the middle of the bed with sparkling eyes and a pretty, pretty cock pointing up towards what some people think is Heaven. Dean knows that Heaven lies between Sammy’s thighs, dark and hidden and hot, and Sammy’s already got a lubed-up finger teasing into paradise.
“C’mon, Dean, it’s been days and days,” he whines, and Dean can’t even remember moving before he’s on the bed with Sam, pressing him back into the pillows, devouring his mouth and sliding a hand down to slide his fingers in along with Sam’s. He wants to suck and bite a necklace of dark red onto Sam’s throat; knows he can’t because Dad will be back before it could fade, releases Sam’s lips to slide down and make his marks across Sammy’s soft belly.
“Dean!” is the sweetest sound, high and shrill and desperate, as Dean works another finger into Sam’s hole, twisting and rubbing so Sam’s whine turns into breathless scream. “Dean, please, ‘m ready!”
And Dean’s not so sure about that, it’s been days and days and Sammy’s virgin-tight, but Dean can’t deny Sam any longer and certainly can’t deny himself. He nods, presses one last kiss to Sammy’s navel and sits up to yank his shirt off over his head. Sammy’s clever little fingers are working at his belt and fly, shoving his jeans down just enough to pull out his dick and he almost comes at the first touch of baby brother hands on his shaft.
Kneeling between Sammy's thighs, dick pressed against Sammy's pretty, pretty hole, Sam's legs wrapped around his hips, and Sam's face is flushed as pink as his cock, and Dean can never decide if he wants to watch his dick disappear into Sammy or watch Sammy's face during that first slow push so his eyes dart back and forth, trying to see it all. Dean's fingers carve bruises into Sam's hips, white-knuckled grip keeping Sammy still as he pushes into the wet velvet heat, and Sam chants his name like a prayer as Dean sinks into him.
The bed thumps against the wall as Dean fucks into Sam, the ancient box springs whining along with Sam's moans, and there's a banging on the other side of the wall that Dean can't help laughing at. Slams in harder just to punch a shout from Sam that brings a faint "shut the fuck up" from the dickhead next door.
"Touch yourself, Sammy," he says. "Wanna see you come all over yourself. Make a mess," because they don't have much more time and because he loves to watch Sam jack off while he fucks him. Loves to match his thrusts to Sammy's strokes, like it's all Sammy's doing, like he's just a toy Sam can use to get off. Like he isn't the one who consumed his baby brother's innocence. And it doesn't take long, once Sam has a hand wrapped around his dick. a few more thrusts, sloppier than Dean would like, and it's still novel and new when Sammy shoots come all over his own belly. The sound of his pleasure, the sight of it, and the clench of Sam's hole, push Dean over the edge and he thrusts deep and bends down to kiss Sam again, tongue-slick sloppy, as he fills Sam to overflowing.
Their neighbor's been pounding on the door, angry shouts coming into focus as Dean's dick goes soft and slips out of Sam. Sam watches with half-lidded eyes, sleepy and sated, while Dean draws a happy face in the come pooled on Sam's stomach and then licks his finger clean. "You should take care of that," Sam says.
Dean pouts. "Don't wanna. Druther curl up with you."
"I'll suck you off." Sammy yawns. "After a nap."
And Dean would do a lot more than handle some middle aged asshole for a lot less from Sammy, so he pulls his jeans up over his hips, doesn't bother with the fly or a shirt, and walks to the door.
Yanks it open with one hand just as the man is about to start pounding his fist on it again, and shoves his pistol into the man's face with the other. "Problem, dude?"
It's funny how pale civilians can get when there's a firearm less than an inch from their nose.
"uh..." The man swallows, audibly.
"Didn't think so," Dean says and slams the door in his face.
There's something dark and pleased in Sam's eyes when Dean turns back towards the bed, and that's okay because it matches the darkness in Dean. Dean sheds his jeans completely before he gets back into bed with Sammy, nuzzles against the back of his neck as they spoon.
---
Currently thinking of Sam and Dean, packing up in the morning because Dad called and told them to catch a bus to the town he's hunting in, and Dean nudges Sam when he sees movement behind the curtains of the room next to theirs. Asshole, trying to get a look at who Dean was with. Sam grins, and Dean matches it as he bends down, staring unblinking at the window, for a deep kiss.
up in heaven there’s no days or hours or moments, but there’s a little lakeside cabin and there’s Dean wandering out front with a cigarette dangling from his lips and finding Sam at the end of their small dock, boots kicked off and pant legs rolled up, cooling his bare feet in the water and smoking a joint. and Dean drops down beside him and they share a kiss that tastes like Dean’s nicotine and Sam’s weed and watch the sunset and sunrise happen at the same time
to be honest sometimes you guys call a guy a bottom when what he actually needs more than anything is to cry as he prematurely ejaculates into a dominant man’s ass. this is the main problem with our society today
john winchester finding out about his sons when they’re young and everyone thinks it’s dean he’ll blame, dean he’ll be angry with, dean he’ll lash out at for this. i mean, he’s older after all, it’s his job to protect sammy, look out for him. not do this to him. never this. but instead after he walks in on something he shouldn’t have. dean angling his body between sam and john with cries of “it’s not what it looks like” but john skips over dean. looks right at sam. thinks about what that demon told him three states back. about deals, and blood, and babies in their cribs. and he just looks into his sons eyes and feels an overwhelming tangle of emotion: anger, revulsion, betrayal, disgust, pity. and sam? sam looks back, chin held high even as his stomach drops out and his chest constricts. even as it feels like his entire world is crumbling around him, feels tears stinging his eyes. he looks at his father and he knows. knows what his own father now looks at him and sees. what he’s always known, especially when it comes to how he feels about his brother. he’s dirty, wrong, tainted, unclean. and this is his fault too.
