sam grew up with dean calling him baby, he stopped doing it when sam went to standford. so it was very surreal when he started using it again some random casual sunday morning in the bunker after many many years
sam remembers how dean used to say it. “No baby, focus” or “baby? What are you doing?” he was always so subtle and natural, easily rolling out of his tongue, it didn’t use to make his heart race like now though
Every time i see this gif I think of this being Sam‘s view--his head resting in Dean's lap while the Impala purrs into the quiet of the night; Dean consciously driving with one hand just so the other can tangle itself in Sam's ridiculously long, fluffy hair. His fingers move slowly, unhurried as they work through knots like they've done a hundred times before
--it's muscle memory at this point, a habit he can never quite break.
little sammy who, no matter how many times john grumbles about how “impractical” long hair is for a hunter, stubbornly keeps growing his out anyway just so that every night, when he and dean squeeze into whatever motel bed they’re sharing while john snores in the other, he can beg his big brother to play with it.
and dean always caves. every single time.
but not without teasing him first, of course. asking when sam’s finally gonna chop off that mop and get a cool haircut like his big brother. which earns him a harmless punch to the arm until sam finally settles down and waits for dean’s fingers to comb through his honey-brown hair.
but the next day, when dean walks past the bathroom and sees sam staring a little too intently at a pair of scissors, he’s quick to start panicking. because what’s he supposed to do if sam actually cuts it? if he can’t run his fingers through those soft curls anymore? can’t braid the little flowers they find on the side of the road into it (flowers sam swears are weeds, but what does he know anyway)? can’t tease him for being a girl until sammy is blushing and squirming under his hands?
dean rips the scissors out of sam’s hands and throws them in the bathroom trashcan without a word.
That's the first time Dean has sucked Sam's cock; in fact, it's the first time Dean has ever sucked a cock in his life. He knows he's straight, he loves women, breasts of all sizes, big asses, and soft, wet vaginas. Maybe a thought or two crossed his mind whenever dr. sexy appeared on screen, but it was never more than a fantasy chained deep in his brain, locked away and hidden behind layers and layers of self-loathing.
Then the years pass, deals with demons, express resurrections, many headaches due to excessive alcohol, and now in the present, he's kneeling, hands sweating, saliva pooling in his cheeks, twice he's had to swallow to avoid soaking the floor, and his body trembles as if he were dying of hypothermia, only instead of cold, heat spreads like wildfire. His brother's legs are spread wide in front of him, and the afternoon light streams through the curtains at just the right angle to make him look like a goddamn deity. He can feel Sam's dick throbbing against his hands, the veins almost as prominent as those on his arms whenever he flexes them, and Dean is dying to choke on that damn thing.
Although it's easier said than done, because Dean is good at sex, like damn, it's something he really likes to brag about, he's never had any complaints, but there's a clear difference between a girl's clit and a fucking huge cock like Sam's.
Dean nervously kisses the length of his cock, licking it with barely perceptible movements. And for a fleeting moment, he thinks about putting some red lipstick to decorate his brother's cock, perhaps kissing the inner thighs of his legs and even his abs. He's seen firsthand what his own dick looks like surrounded by lipstick, and he considers it one of the best scenarios when he uses his imagination to get off when he's by himself. Since he's a scent maniac, like the vile pervert he is, he drench himself in his little brother's dick scent.
Sam smells like cheap soap, and it might just be Dean's melted brain short-circuiting from how damn excited he is, making him hallucinate, but he'd swear there's also a faint scent of coffee. The taste is salty, but not as prominent as the smell, and Dean knows he's screwed because there's no way he'll ever forget it.
Sam is patient, his little brother gently guides him, placing his freaking big hands on his face and head, telling him how good he is, speaking slowly and breathlessly, and Dean isn't a girl, but he feels the blush creeping up his cheeks and ears with embarrassment. He knows he's doing a shitty job because the nerves are getting the better of him, but Sam sounds so hot, with surprised grunts every time Dean sucks and kisses the tip of his cock, that Dean feels a little proud of being the one to break him down like this. When he opens his mouth, his jaw aches, and he tries to swallow him whole.
Sam shudders beneath him and tries again to slow him down, but Dean is getting tired of being treated like a virgin. Okay, maybe his throat is virgin, but that doesn't stop him from feeling the tingle in his toes just thinking about the moment his little brother fucks his face so good his throat hurts for days.
Then, Dean forcefully lets the throbbing cock sink in until he has to hold his breath and his eyes begin to water. Sam shudders beneath his touch with a deep moan, it sounds broken. Dean knows he's holding back; Sammy usually holds back a lot, too afraid of hurting him but Dean pulls himself together, managing to suck, his cheeks buried in Sam's mouth as he caresses his testicles and legs. His head moves back and forth, his eyelashes flutter, trying to tell him without words that he wants him more than anything. Sam then holds him firmly, and Dean can feel his whole body vibrate with happiness.
Sam is relentless then; he may not be fucking his throat with the violence he desires, but he can still feel the force and the crave. He can only see Sam's throat as his head snaps back, panting, and Dean knows he's won the first round. His little brother's legs tremble as he approaches his limit, and then he plunges all the way in.
Dean's eyes widen in surprise as his nose is crushed against Sam's bush, and he can't help but panic for a moment due to the unexpected movement. But then he feels it going down his throat; Sam's hot cum bathes his senses and chokes him. At that moment, Dean feels his mind go blank as he comes hard in his pants. His body trembles, and his mind shudders.
Maybe a few seconds pass, but then he hears his little brother gasp in terror. Dean manages to breathe when Sammy pulls out, not without coughing like a madman. He knows his face is a mess, flushed, with tears and cum all over his face, his lips swollen and his eyes a little lost.
Sammy keeps apologizing, stroking his neck and trying to see how he is, but Dean doesn't want pity at that moment. There will be time for being affectionate later; there will always be with Sammy. Dean lunges at his brother's lips, and although Sam gasps in surprise, he grabs Dean by the waist, pulling him onto his lap. They kiss in a messy, chaotic way. Sam gasps against his lips, and Dean doesn't want to be anywhere else.
When Sam's palm reaches for his dick it is met with an wetness disaster on his pants, Dean thinks he can see something breaking inside his little brother, because he feels his Sam's dick pressing against his clothed ass again.
Dean feels drunk as Sam kisses him again hungrily, and Dean remembers he hasn't even had a drop of alcohol that day.
These ES/LS snippets are truly saving my need for more of your fics.
You very quickly became my favorite wincest author, hitting every one of my favorite tropes(hurt/comfort is my bread and butter too!) And I'm excitedly(and impatiently lol) waiting for your next fics to come out.
Your writing is SO GOOD and I find myself going back to your fics all the time. My first was your love potion fic and that's still one of my absolute favorite samdean fics out there.
This isn’t really an ask so much as it is an appreciation lol. Can't wait for your next fic!
(If this was an ask though, I'd love more thoughts on your ES/LS universe and even MORE hurt/comfort and jealousy lol)
BABE???? OH MY????
i don't even know what to say! this is the nicest compliment!!!!! you're so incredibly kind, and i'm so unbelievably honoured that my work is special to you!
EEP! i can't even express how much this ask means to me!!!! there are literally no words!!!! the love potion fic was meant as a fun little add-on to that month's challenge, but i've been blown away by how much folks have liked it--i live for a little melodrama and H/C, lol!
every writer dreams of getting asks like this one, and just ARGH! i'm kissing you on both cheeks!!!!!
as for upcoming things, my next fic will probably be my teen!chesters piece for the wayward sons zine (it will be HEFTY). charlotte and i were outlining this fic, and it ended up being about five pages of outline. so def a larger one!
because this ask was so incredible and lovely and kind (so kind?? holy shit?? my hand in marriage??) i wrote a little thing for you! i hope you like!
dean rubs his hands on the sides of his jeans, before he catches himself doing it. shit.
he crosses his arms, then realizes that he looks awkward and posed, so he uncrosses them again. he pushes his hair back from his face--but fuck, what if his hair looks weird now? dean checks frantically around for a reflective surface, but the only thing even close to him is a giant telescope, and--even though he briefly considers it--there's no way he'd be able to crawl back up it and down in time.
"what are you doing?" he mutters to himself, able to at least recognize that he's acting like a preteen about to meet one of the jonas brothers.
it's just sam.
just sam, kind of, dean's brain quietly corrects. it's just sam, but fucking huge.
it's just sam, but his ridiculous hair has grown and curls softly around his ears, brushes his jaw when he ducks his head. it's just sam, except his arms are bigger than dean's head. dean didn't miss the show the other day when sam came to look for something and lifted a fucking stuffed armchair with one arm.
(dean tried it later, and it took him both hands and two tries to get it off the ground. that thing must be reinforced with some crazy cold war steel or something. definitely.)
dean eyes the main room again. he should just sit at the big table. he eyes the big sword on one of the shelves. no--focus. sam went into "library annex 3" to find a book that he thought dean should absolutely take a look at, and left dean, dazzled, in his wake. so dean is going to sit here and wait, because he's been running out of excuses to see sammy lately.
dean slumps into one of the chairs, sighing. what is wrong with him?
he gets so...easily distracted whenever sammy--future-sam or whatever--starts talking to him. and most of it isn't even his fault, okay? sammy always puffs up whenever either 2006 winchester gets close, a dick-measuring if dean's ever seen one. as soon as sam got a single inch on dean in height, dean's never heard the end of it. but this sammy, older sammy, straightens up and his chest gets all big and--fuck--arms! big arms!!
dean keeps trying to find plausible excuses for sammy to take off his shirt because dean is convinced he has a six-pack under there, and it's his right to know!
"i found it!" a muffled voice from down the hallway, so deep that dean's brain goes a little sideways. and dean feels his whole body lock up, like he's just been thrown out of an airplane.
sam--sammy steps through the doorway, holding up a book triumphantly. his eyes are bright, and he's got little wrinkles at the corners, barely there. his grin is radiant, and dean feels absurdly like he's looking directly at one of those religious frescos with the yellow circles behind everyone's heads. sam would get a kick out of that.
dean whimpers. he straight up fucking whimpers, covering it quickly with a cleared throat.
"great!" he says, too bright. it's not his fault! it's not! dean barely resists the urge to bash his own head in.
so sue him! sam is suddenly huge and old and glad to see dean? he lights up whenever dean walks into a room, greeting him warmly. he seems to find dean adorable, which dean kind of resents, but it's hard to stay mad at sammy when he clearly finds so much delight in seeing him.
and 'sammy' isn't helping. 'sammy' had always been a dean word. it had been an 'us' word, a 'they don't know you like i know you, they can't understand you like i can' word. as soon as dean's own sam--2006 sam--had shrugged off the word, and older sam had donned it, dean knew he was screwed. wires crossed. you can only call so many men 'sammy' before you start to tease them and want to be around them and give them shit and look at their huge fucking tits--wait...no. shit. focus!
"so get this," sammy says, and he slides into the chair next to dean, smooth and graceful and so in touch with every muscle in his body that dean has to catch his breath a little. and his chest does something funny, because sam shows him the book and starts babbling.
he starts babbling. like a two year old sam and an eight year old sam and a twelve and a fifteen and an eighteen year old sam.
it seems impossible that this person--this man, all poise and purpose and focus, whose eyes can cut and soothe, whose stubble scratches when he rubs a hand across his jaw--is still dean's sam. dean's sammy.
and he knows it. and he likes it. this sammy brushes his shoulder and doesn't recoil like it burns. he looks to dean first when something is wrong. dean saw, the other day, how his older self comforted sam after a nightmare, how easily sam contorted himself to fit the shape of older dean's arms. sam likes being dean's. or at least this version of dean.
"anyways, i think that this is probably our most comprehensive record of vampires--their habits, their physiology, their weaknesses. if you wanted to give it a read, i think it'll really come in handy." sam says, still talking like dean cares at all for vampires and not the exact shape of sam's mouth.
dean aches. he feels inadequate. there is something clearly in this dean that is worthy, something that sam finds lovable. or necessary. dean wants to be necessary. dean needs to be necessary.
"yeah." dean says, suddenly, when he realizes that sammy's looking for a response. "that--uh--that sounds great."
"you didn't hear a thing i said, did you?" sammy asks, eyebrow raised, teasing and knowing and fuck--dean's chest collapses. sam knows him.
it's so strange to be known by this...this man. this man who blots out the sun with his shoulders, and has callused hands, and looks at dean like he's proud of him. this man knows him. this man is sammy, and that's all dean every really needs.
"naw." he says, scrubbing a hand in the close-shorn hair at the back of his head, abashed and feeling strange. "'m sorry."
"don't be." sammy rolls his eyes, but it's in good humour. sam--2006 sam, and it's weird that dean has already made that distinction--would genuinely be put out. he thinks dean doesn't take him seriously.
both sams are alien to dean. sam, because his burden is eating him alive. he's terrified of himself, of his powers. furious at what he's becoming and increasingly furious at dean for not taking his own safety seriously. like sam could ever hurt him.
and this sammy, of course, is different. he's physically very different, but also...softer? that's the wrong word. he's easier, maybe. his smiles are soft and he thinks through things before he says them. he doesn't hurt to hold in your hand like sam does, all spikes and hard edges like rock that resents you for holding it. sammy is a stone worn smooth by a river, and dean doesn't know if that makes him a bad brother.
he doesn't want to know, because he can't think about this being another way of failing sam. dean's been failing sam since that first over-long look in 1995.
this sam, at least, dean has a reason for not understanding completely. time has made a stranger of his brother, not circumstance, and time is easier to blame.
"what?" sammy asks, and dean snaps back to the present, abashed again. god. it's like his first fumbling date a fourteen all over again. but wait, no it's not--why did dean think that?
"nothing. sorry. you're just--" dean can't find the words. sammy seems delighted at this, eyes sparking with a challenge like they're both in on a joke.
"i'm..." he prompts, drawing it out. dean sputters. he and sam give each other shit all the time. it shouldn't feel different with this sam, but...it does.
"hi."
dean jerks away, sitting up straight in his chair. sam stands in the doorway. he looks pissed. his hands are balled into fists at his sides, his jaw is set, and he's...not looking at dean.
dean looks to sammy, whose eyes widen. he seems surprised by something. proud of something.
"dean wants to know if we're ready for dinner. what are you doing?" sam asks, words loaded. dean's about to jump in, feeling weirdly guilty. they're just talking about a book, it's not like they were--
"just talking with my little brother." sam says, jostling dean's shoulder with his elbow, like this is all a big joke but what the fuck?? dean's spine melts and drips down his ribs. oh my fucking god.
little brother little brother little brother sam could pin dean down if he wanted to, dean looks down at sam's huge fucking hands oh my god, little brother--
"you--" sam starts, and sammy sits up straighter, tilting his head forward like he's coaching sam through something, but sam's eyes are suddenly on dean, and dean freezes.
he doesn't know what to do under sam's critical gaze. the weight in his stomach is definitely guilt, but dean doesn't know why. dean looks away first.
"we're just talking shop, sam." dean says to his hands. a pause. dean hears sam leave, his footsteps echoing down the corridor.
he better not be going to see that old geezer. dean doesn't like he way he looks at sam.
"we almost had him," sammy says, thoughtful. dean looks up, and sammy is looking down at him with an expression so fond that dean's throat closes. "next time."
(Reblogging this on my other account because it's where I talk about stuff)
AAAAAHHHH THIS IS SO GOOD THANK YOU. I WAS NOT EXPECTING A FICLET WHEN SENDING THIS ASK BUT IM SO GIDDY THAT YOU GAVE ME THIS.(and yes I WILL accept your marriage proposal thank you very much).
You really hit EVERY nail for me here. Dean loving how big Sammy has become, Sams jealousy(over himself, I'm kicking my feet and giggling), deans overprotectiveness. And of course the H/C of it all. SO GOOD.
Again, thank you SO MUCH FOR GIFTING ME THIS. You truly have earned your place as one of my favorite fic authors out there. I cannot WAIT for your next fic to come out, I am SO EXCITED.
(I also need you to know that I always listen to my taboo ship playlist when reading your fics because it just adds to that forbidden love of it all.)
omega!Dean who scents alpha!Sam before they leave anywhere and every time they return from a hunt or outing. omega!Dean who always stands just a little too close to Sam’s side whenever someone tries flirting with Sam. omega!Dean who refuses to let any scent outside his pack touch his nest (the impala). omega!Dean who gets all sad and pouty whenever Sam doesn’t eat the food he made for him, but gets furious if anyone else dares eat something he made for Sam.
alpha!Sam who never uses his height to intimidate until someone makes Dean uncomfortable. alpha!Sam who is so in tune with Dean’s scent he immediately knows and can calm him when he starts panicking. alpha!Sam who is always trying to find a new way to please Dean or make him laugh. alpha!Sam who can’t help the spike of possessiveness in his scent when someone won’t take their hands off Dean.
I love viewing the scene where Dean comes back to the bunker under the love spell with wincest goggles.
Cause like, just imagine that they have been lovers for like, years on and off and it was really tumultuous and angsty but after the mark of Cain was gone they settled into something steady and good. Found a way that they really work well, and they're accepted it and don't angst much about it anymore, but they also don't like, talk about it or their feelings either.
And then Dean comes back, smiley and happy and is like "I am in love."
Sam's awkward, unsure and sort of flustered but pleased "Oh, are you?" make so much sense in that context.
He's like half waiting for the punch line and half nervously waiting for a declaration.
Like. Is Dean talking about him? They don't talk like that to each other. I mean they are brothers, of course they love each other, but in love? That's too.. soppy. Too romantic. Too much what Sam would probably secretly want if he ever admitted it to himself. Maybe it's a joke? Did Dean find a new artery clogging burger he's going to force Sam to try? Or a new beer? It couldn't be a car because there is no way Dean would cheat on the Impala...
And then Dean starts talking about a girl and how she is going to move into the bunker and he knows something is very, very wrong.
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