#ageswap!au

[stardustpetalss]

Ageswap galladay

And of course miss robin 🥰

[majordemonblockpartyy]

dean slips into bed beside sam four or five nights a week these days, complaining that he's cold and curling up against him, his boney fingers tucked under sam's t-shirt or the waistband of his shorts to steal some of sam's body heat. when sam rolls over and curls his arm under dean (it'll be numb and bloodless come morning, but it's worth it for the way dean snuffles into his neck like a tired old dog), he can fit his fingertips into the notches of dean's spine in a way that has his heart thundering in his chest like he's just barely escaped a poltergeist.

his little brother is stretched thin in a way that's not entirely explained by his most recent growth spurt (quiet, hitched breaths in the night; sam rolling out of bed to go heat a wet washrag in the microwave so dean can press the moist warmth to his aching joints). while sam's been spending nearly every evening after school lets out in the airless little booth over the auditorium memorizing lighting and sound cues, dean's been taking the freshmen wrestling squad by storm.

it's been sort of fascinating to watch dean bend himself into this new shape (sam feels like there's something of anthropological note there), curbing his inclination to fight dirty against anything that gets him in a hold and play within the rules (given, in their usual line of business, if something's managed to get its hands or hooks or claws on you, you're probably already fucked; the worst thing dean's likely to get from a fellow highschool wrestler is a pulled muscle or foot fungus).

sam's seen him sometimes, on his lunch block with other boys from the team, the cuffs of their matching navy school-issued sweat suits duct taped at the wrists and ankles as they run laps around the gym perimeter instead of heading to the caf with the rest of their class. at night, sam wraps his forefinger and thumb around the circumference of dean's wrist and squeezes until his sleeping brother's fingers flex, watching the strange new oblique planes of dean's face — all cheekbones and freckles — in the light of passing cars.

[according2thelore]

Foaming at the mouth over your OlderBrother!Sam!

I'm convinced that Sam will try (or threaten) John into taking full custody or his brother once he legally turns 18!

Sadly even if Sam manages to get Dean out of hunting, it's likely that Dean will still try to help his Dad in secret or even runaway to do it. (Just a HC)

hi, anon!!

ooh! that's super fun to think about!

i'm of the belief that sam would still go to stanford, even if he was the older sibling. in his mind, i'm sure he's thinking that john will be forced to step up now that sam isn't there to carry his extra weight. a trial by fire, of sorts. john will finally have to be a dad, and it'll be good for both he and dean, in the end. he loves dean more than he needs to breathe, but i can only imagine how much more the life chafes since he has the added burden of being the older brother.

BUTTTT

it would be absolutely fucking delightful if sam gets a call in the middle of the night from a hospital in georgia asking him if he knows a "dean cobb." john left his sixteen year old son behind at a motel to go hunt something else, and dean found a hunt in the neighboring town and decided he was going to try to take care of it himself. sam gets there--jess assuring him she can take care of rent next month, because sam has to use his half to buy a plane ticket to atlanta--when john does. sam decks him in the face right there in the parking lot, lays him out on concrete. and that's the "two years" they mention in the pilot that he hasn't seen sam. fuck. oh god oh fuck i have to write this.

anyway!

i still LOVE your idea!! i think if sam was going to stay behind from stanford--or fuck it, take dean with him to california--he'd have to keep it under wraps in the months leading up to it, because he knows john'll fight him tooth and nail.

when he's younger, he threatens john with it all the time. dean needs to be normal, and he needs to be safe, and he needs to join the goddamn wrestling team, dad, look at him, he loves being on a team. sam would make sure he'd get what he needed. sam would make sure that dean wouldn't have to sleep with a knife under his pillow and have salt perpetually underneath his fingernails.

sam has bobby draw up the custody papers, has bobby pull his strings to get a death certificate for their father, good enough to convince any judge that dean is legally his ward. and in the months leading up to him getting dean the fuck out of dodge, he is the perfect son. he picks a few dumb fights with dad to keep him from being suspicious, but he doesn't complain about dean's living situation once. he cleans the guns and hides his papers and makes sure he and dean's duffles are always packed.

agreed, even if sam manages to convince or trick dean into going with him to california, dean is not going to go quietly into that good night. he loves hunting, and loves that it's something secret and special and good his family does. hunting is the only thing that connects him to the mother he didn't know. it's the only way he can show that he loves her and that she mattered. he'd find small hunts around palo alto, and sam would get a call in the middle of his psych 101 lecture that dean hasn't been in any of his sophomore classes since first period. dean comes home--a family housing dorm that sam was able to plead his way into--with a busted lip and boots covered in grave dirt.

if john knows where they are, you bet your ass he's calling dean in the middle of the night, telling dean to hop on a bus and meet him in topeka for a wendigo case he really needs help on. he burned all of his other bridges with hunter contacts, and pastor jim & caleb are on the other side of the country. and dean jumps at the chance, desperate for his family to be whole again and thrilled to be useful. he leaves a note for sam, but sam is inconsolable until his fifteen year old brother walks back in the front door almost a week later, after a cross-country bus trip solo. "i'm not a civilian, sam." dean gripes, as sam chews him out for being reckless. "i can handle myself."

GAH! ageswap!au is endlessly fun and fascinating to think about for me, and i'm so glad you agree! thank you so much for the ask!!

and thank you so much for your patience!!! <3 and i'm so glad you liked these!

-lizzy (the post in specific anon is referring to) (and the other ficlet i wrote for it as well)

[hellhoundsprey]

Hello, I think I might be the thirsty anon! XD So, here is the first prompt: A "sequel/future!ficlet" for "For Too Long", I would love to see how they are doing in their new life, with Dean finally being the cockslut that Sam knew he was, would love some feminization too. Full on Explicit! You are awesome! :)

Yeah babe, that’s you ❤. Thanks for complying! Good anons get tasty treats (:

(For those who haven’t read For Too Long and feel groovy about 60k of angsty ageswapped incest porn… Be my guest.)

warnings: none

includes: ageswap!au, wincest, bottom!dean, top!sam

~

Some things never get old.

Like the full thud of Dean’s weight, bumping back-first into a door.

Like: the low-low growl from behind those teeth; an empty promise.

Sam’s got his boy off the ground and those bow-legs wrapped around his hips in zero point something.

It’s all practice.

Dreading/hopeful, “Shower?” and Sam sucks on his tongue in response.

Almost-swallows it he’s so starved. Always.

There are things that can wait, and things that cannot.

Teases, though, “You’re fucking nasty,” and gets a face for that, one of those arms thrown around his neck gripping his hair and yanking his head backwards.

Sam laughs, honest.

“Could be drenched in goddamn hellhound blood and you’d still fuck me.”

Sam responds, “Positive,” and kisses that smug mouth. Sucks on a lip as he juggles his little brother and his own belt buckle. Sam’s good with his hands.

“Fuck. How are you so fucking hard already?”

Sam laughs.

“Your adrenaline’s all fucked up. Should see a doctor ’bout that.”

“Maybe later,” jokes Sam, and it’s easy to yank those blue jeans down, just far enough to get Dean bare-assed in the fucking air, pretend-lining himself up where he needs to be, now.

Dean’s eyes pop beautifully and he barks Sam’s name, tries to connect a kick.

“Are you CRAZY?! Fuck you!”

Sam laughs, “I wouldn’t,” and Dean lets himself get kissed back into submissiveness.

Is grateful enough to get his feet planted back on the ground that he lets Sam arrange him over the rim of the moldy motel tub; one knee balanced on there and back arched and he’ll be banging his head into the tiles. Neither of them will care.

Sam’s brother slurs, “Fuck,” with two (heavily lubed) fingers punching right for his sweet spot. Elbows on that enamel and he’s heated, and fucking grimy.

Sam pushes that tee further up that back with his free hand. Gets it out of the way in favor of more skin, all milk.

It’s been a cloudy summer, so far.

“You gon’ do it here?”

“The bathroom? Yeah.” Dean whines; Sam chuckles. “What?”

Dean mumbles, “’S nasty,” into a non-existent beard, into the strawberry-blond covering his bare forearms.

Sam mocks, “Like you,” and grinds his hand with emphasis.

Sam’s little brother arch-tightens so pretty with a pair of fingers playing with his tits. Bites his already-sinful lip and lets Sam suck some love into the raw side of his neck.

Mutters nonsense about Sam getting some weird kind of infection, ew, don’t lick that. It doesn’t matter anyway, not at this point.

Sam grunts, “Ready?”

Dean love-hums his consent. Lets his brother thread his cock up his ass, all bare, and slaps at Sam’s thigh in warning; groans so darlingly.

Reminds, “Slow down,” and lets Sam exchange more spit back and forth between their mouths over his shoulder.

Lets Sam cup his forehead and bend his head back like that, bare his neck and fist into available strands of hair. Gurgles so fucking sweet like that, with Sam’s cock punching him out like a punishment; fucking wet and dripping.

The tile-related echo can’t add much more obscenity to any of this, really, but it tries.

Dean wheezes, grunts with his throat compromised like that. Morphed moans and Sam can hear that dick slapping all heavy and full up against that lower stomach, those thighs.

“Fuck, fuck—”

“Gonna come?”

Dean sobs, “Yes,” around Sam’s fingers, and Sam lays into him for real, then.

“Do it, c’mon,” is superfluous. Sam knows the hints. Learned this body inside-out. Could edge Dean forever if he wanted; but not today.

Needs him to come undone like a storm. Needs to feel, to reassure they’re still alive. That it’s not over yet.

Three more months.

[randomprose]

ageswap kurotsuki au. please and thank you

oh boy sorry this was buried in my ask box. sorry for the anon who requested this but here goes. (first of all, i want y’all to know that i fucking love ageswap!aus and istg this will be the death of me.)

in this au everything is reversed. karasuno had long since shaken off their “fallen powerhouse” moniker and is one of the top competing schools in the high school circuit. nekoma is an above average school. they’re good enough to get into nationals but not so good to get past more than the second round. so karasuno and nekoma have a practice match right? and kuroo sees karasuno’s captain. he’s the tall blonde guy with the cool glasses and an unsmiling face. he has a soft voice and he doesn’t talk much but when he does everyone listens. he’s a middle blocker and also seems to be the team’s main tactician. meanwhile, kuroo is just a measly first year who only even gets in the game as a sub. he’s been on the game for a grand total of once (1) and it’s towards the end of the last set. he delivers tho because he really wants to be a regular real soon. 

tsukishima, always observant especially of the other team, notices kuroo and the way he blocks. it’s nothing grand, could use a lot more work, but the potential is there. at the end of the practice match where everyone is cleaning up and socializing, a stray ball rolls by his feet and here comes nekoma’s first year middle blocker chasing it down. he stops it with his foot, kicks it up catching it smoothly and handing it out to kuroo. kuroo stutters out a thanks as he bows to him. “no problem. you block good, kuroo-kun. a little more practice and you might be a regular next year.” and long story short, kuroo went back to tokyo with the biggest crush on karasuno’s captain.

kuroo gushes about tsukishima to kenma and when kenma revealed he finds the karasuno ace interesting kuroo gets more excited that he’s not alone in this but unlike him, kenma’s already got hinata’s number and is already on texting terms and first name basis with him. kuroo is lowkey jealous and asks kenma his secret. “teach me your ways!” “kuro, for the last time i can’t help you with anything. hinata was the one who ask for my number.” “wha–wait, you don’t call him senpai or hinata-san? all the underclassmen call him senpai! diachi said he likes being called senpai!” “…hinata told me it’s fine” “tEACH ME YOUR WAYS!!”

naturally, kuroo also gushes about tsukishima to bokuto. bokuto keeps teasing kuroo about his big fat crush on a four eyed upperclassman but is lowkey supportive. that is until the training camp happens and bokuto sees tsukishima in action. “bro…he really is cool.” “back the fuck off, bro. i saw him first.” “oh for sure. i mean, he’s cool, yeah, but akaashi-senpai is still the coolest.” kuroo wants to protest but then bokuto is pulling him towards the gym where some guys where doing extra practice and who should be there but tsukishima and some other third years. it’s hinata who notices them by the threshold and shouts at them to join in. tsukishima looks over at them by then too, top part of his shirt pulled up as he uses it to wipe the sweat off his face, and silently raises his hand and bends his fingers in a ‘come here’ gesture. kuroo isn’t gonna lie, his eyes trained on the strip of sweaty skin that got exposed just above tsukishima’s shorts. ‘i wanna lick it’ was his first thought and then ‘bad, kuroo! bad! ohmyfuckinggoooddd!!.’

the extra practice session becomes a nightly thing throughout the training camp and after the first night, kuroo somehow became tsukishima’s protege, calmly giving him instructions and tips and arranging his arms and hands into the proper blocking position. an in practice games, when he’s not playing, tsukishima will watch kuroo’s games whenever he’s put on the court and then gives him pointers after. praises him if he does a good job and giving constructive criticisms on the blocks he fumbled. kuroo learned a lot during the training camp but his biggest achievement would probably making tsukishima smile when they were playing against one another and he managed to block one of kageyama and hinata’s legendary quick attacks. karasuno still wins tho but tsukishima hands him a water bottle after the game and tells him “good job, kuroo-kun” and ruffles his hair through a towel. kuroo honest to god blushed so fiercely he had to hide under that towel until his blush subsided.

bonus: (i’m putting it  here because it’s too goo to put in the tags)kuroo got the nerve to ask for tsukishima’s number at the end of the camp “for blocking tips” but tsukishima  just smiles and tells him he can text him too even if it’s not about volleyball

[l-0puko]

mp100 ageswap!AU hc

where Shou has a motorcycle “Suzuki” and Ritsu screams eternally every time they meet bc Shou suggests him to ride it

[majordemonblockpartyy]

it's one of the last lingering days of january, but sam doesn't need to look at a calendar to know they're in the depths of mid-winter, so long as he can see dean.

spared from the clippers for the past five months – dad plugging them in every spring the first time the mercury hits 80 for five straight days, "c'mon, boys; buzzcut season's here"; the whine-whir buzzing through sam's skull as he's shorn high and tight with the ⅞ blade, maybe a little extra left on top if he's been very well-behaved lately; running his fingers through the fresh-cropped velvet prickle at the nape of dean's neck – dean's hair's gotten long. long enough for his shower-wet bangs to flop over his eyes, comb tracks hardening in his hair, the part over his left eye so sharp that sam can see clear down to the white of his scalp.

"I'll be good for you, sammy," dean murmurs, climbing with a second-nature graceless scramble into sam's lap, bitten-chapped lips pressing against his neck. "I'll be so good."

sam hears himself make a choked-off, gut-kicked noise, something constricting hard and fast in his chest.

"dean, I-" sam's powerless to stop the way his voice goes knocked-flat breathless at the feel of dean's teeth digging in at his pulse point.

he gets his hands up in between them, one braced against dean's shoulder, the other settling to trace along the long sweep of dean's clavicle. sam presses in with his fingertips, like if he tries real hard he'll be able to feel the place where this bone broke three years back, courtesy of a dining chair sent airborne by a poltergeist somewhere outside of taborville.

three years back, when dean was eleven, because dean is fourteen and has been for exactly six days.

[majordemonblockpartyy]

actually A LOT of "a river runs through it" is giving me ageswap sam and dean vibes. older brother makes good, off to [work at a] university while younger brother drinks too much and acknowledges he'll never leave the life they were raised in. dad who spends his sons' childhood training them in a hyper-specific discipline in which they both excel in their own ways. older brother's love interest is a blonde girl named jessie! baby brother dies bloody and young...