sassysammy

sam and dean are the fire of my loins

[wincestragedy]

── 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒

wincest fanfictions that altered my brain chemistry ♡

disclaimer: some of them contain dark content, please check the warnings/tags and read at your own risk!

DRYWALL DUST [16.5k]

"Did you fuck my math teacher?" Sam hissed.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

FOR TOO LONG [59.9k]

After leaving for Stanford eight years ago, Sam turns up on his little brother's doorsteps.

(Ageswap!au, i.e. Sam is born in '79 and Dean in '83. This story takes off in the hunter universe in 2005.)

IN MY BROTHER'S KEEPING [13.4k]

Dean's whole world is built on lies. What's one more?

LIMA SYNDROME [19.5k]

Dean was late to rescue Sam during the fire that killed their mother, making Sam grow up with permanent scars on his face from a window that burst in the nursery. The social rejection he experienced from his scars was so fatal he stopped talking - and became so erratic John had to keep him locked in the attic upstairs. Dean always blamed himself for Sam, and does anything he can to make his brother happy.

OWN IT [6.8k]

But he's never going to be able to burn the image of Sam cradling one hand around the perfect curve of Dean's face, dropping the other to the cut of Dean's hip (made for fingers and tongues to trail down, to taste), walking Dean backward until Dean is flush against the wall and Sam is flush against him. This is something that can't be denied.

PINE SWEAT [105.3k]

Sam watched Dean hack up firewood with his hatchet. The magically-induced heat wave had his shirt soaked with sweat.

“Did you ever have a, uh… experimental phase?” Sam smacked his lips, trying to think of a diplomatic way to phrase it. “That kid—by which I mean you—has been staring. At me. Kind of a lot.”

(Sam and Dean get sent back to 1996 and go on a hunt with their teenaged selves. The kids don't know who they are.)

TASTE EVERY FRUIT [14k]

There's no real words to describe how feeding Sam feels. Dean thinks it might be better than orgasms, but it's a whole different kind of pleasure, one that makes him feel sleepy and proud of himself for being able to take care of his brother this way. Everything feels right in the world, all Dean's problems taken away in the gentle pulls of Sam's mouth.

THE BITE OF KNOWLEDGE [20.4k]

Omegas can tell when alphas are attracted to them. It's a survival mechanism.

After years of buildup, Dean finally realizes that Sam is attracted to him.

It's a shitshow.

── 𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐣𝟐 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧:

BAD MEN [15.3k]

Prompt: Jensen is 14-18 and he knows he's a little twink, he sees the way men look at him and he doesn't mind, the attention helps him gain a new found self confidence. But even though men may look at him, Jensen not actually interested. The only one for him is Jared, who he's crushed on since he was like five. Jared can be his stepfather, neighbor, teacher, father's friend, man who kid's Jensen babysits, whatever annon wants as long as Jared is significantly older. Points for a Jared being very reluctant because of the age gap while Jensen just coaxes him in. Jared's always been so nice and thoughtful, so Jensen never expected him to be so rough and controlling in the bed, or that he'd love it.

[cianfries-stuff]

All of a sudden, Dean stops complaining when John tells him to do research for their cases.

He disappears into the local library for the whole day and comes back with a thick stack of printed pages under his arm, eyes red and puffy from staring at a screen too long.

Half the time, he digs up info on whatever case they’re working. The other half, he spends scrolling through MySpace profiles of Stanford law students, trying to find Sam. He doesn’t. But he does see him in a group photo. Taller than everyone else, hood pulled up over his head, pressing his hair flat against his forehead. Dean’s heart pounds in his throat every time his eyes land on him.

After that, he keeps finding more. Half of Sam’s face in a blurry shot taken in class. A group picture from a picnic at a park. His hair fanned out over an open book as he sleeps at a library table.

Dean gets restless. He starts showing up early at the library, staying late, getting kicked out at closing. Dad doesn’t ask any questions for months. Then one day, in the car, he says, Is Sam okay? Dean thinks about lying, but Dad sees through him like no one else ever has. So he nods, just once. He doesn’t say anything more and John keeps driving. They never bring it up again.

Dean keeps going like this until he finds a picture of Sam sitting at a table next to some blonde girl. He’s smiling, arm slung over her shoulders. Her name is Jessica, she’s gorgeous, and Dean wants to kill her.

After that, he stops going to the library. Shoves all those stolen glimpses of Sam’s life to the bottom of his bag, crumpled and hidden. He starts complaining again when John tells him to do research.

When he shows up at Sam’s place after Dad goes missing and sees Jessica pressed up against his brother’s side, Dean pretends he’s never seen her before.

[brotherlylovestory]

Sam complains that everyone at school has a girlfriend and he doesn’t, and Dean tenses up, almost annoyed. “You have me.”

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m not saying I want a girlfriend Dean.”

“Then what the hell are you saying?”

“It’s just—“ Sam lets out a heaving sigh. “Everyone else gets to show their girlfriends off, and- and hold hands and stuff. Everyone knows they’re taken.”

Taken.

Dean's eyes practically gloss over and in the next second he’s on top of Sam, sucking behind his ear.

Sam’s voice squeaks out “Dean!”

Dean shushes him right above his ear, “Lemme show them you’re mine.”

Sam whines and melts into Dean as he makes his way across his neck, peppering him with bruises.

When they finally come out of their makeout haze and Sam looks in the mirror, a sense of awe and fear runs through him. Fear wins out. “Shit, what am I gonna say!” Sam’s fingers flutter over the hickies and Dean looks up at him with pride.

“Tell them all about how your kickass girlfriend has the most gifted lips on the planet.”

“…So that makes you my girlfriend?”

Dean reddens and gives a sly grin. “I better be a smoking blonde with a great rack.”

[tulsk87]

Dean was passing by the modest jewellery shop when his eyes suddenly went on the display and he haulted, eyes catching a single ring that was on a small ring box, silver metal with a single blue stone sitting beautifully on the plush bedding. It was really beautiful yet simple.. He hesitated for minute, mentally tallying the cards he has and which one he should use. He made up his mind shortly and went inside. The sales girl looked up from the counter and gave him a smile. He smiled back and asked her to show the ring on the display. She brought it over and told him this is a very pretty ring and who is the lucky girl. Dean just gave a smile and said that he himself is the lucky one indeed. The girl gave him a huge grin and said that he is really romantic. Dean laughed, paid for the ring and left.

When he got home, Sam was in the study, pouring over some map and a thick book was open beside him. Dean rolled his eyes and said that he got them dinner. Sam hurrumphed and kept studying the map. Dean went to the kitchen to plate the food, grabbed two beer bottles and came back into the study. Sam did not look up. He put the plate and beer beside Sam and sat opposite him, and ate his food silently, occasionally eyeing his brother. After few minutes, Sam looked up and told Dean that they might have a breakthrough for the case. Dean half listened to him, contemplating something.

When Sam stopped, he looked at him and said, 'Let's get married '..

Sam's jaw dropped and he looked like a fish outside the water. He found his voice after few tries and croaked, 'What! Are you nuts? Thats illegal!'

Dean sniggered and said 'So is shanking people and hunting demons. But we do it anyway.'

Sam gave him a long look, and shrugged, and said "Yes."

Dean was startled, he looked at Sam suspiciously and said, "Yes? You said Yes right?"

Sam shrugged again and said that after what they have done and been doing‌, marriage among brothers seems the least problematic.

Dean got up, pulled out the ring box out of pocket, got the ring out, took Sam's hand and slid the ring into his rong finger.

Sam was stunned, kept looking at the ring. Dean patted on his back and said "hey, no chick flick moment, ok?"

Sam nodded, still looking at the ring. Dean left the room, but before leaving, he looked back and saw Sam looking at the ring with a tiny smile on his face.

Dean smiled to himself, already planning where to register for the marriage and what names they should use so it doesn't raise any suspicious brows.

The next day they went to interview the witness. While driving, Dean sneaked a glance at Sam's hand sitting on his knee, and saw the ring on his finger.

Dean smiled.

[babydollsammy]

please please rec me your fave filthy fucking each other stupid SamDean fics I’m begging idc about specifics I just need them to go at it like unholy animals k thanks bye <3

[cianfries-stuff]

Everyone at school knows who the Winchesters are. They rolled into town two weeks ago. They’re staying at that motel on the outskirts, the one where people sneak off to meet their lovers. Word is, they keep to themselves, and strange noises come from their room at night.

They show up to school in an old, shiny car and eat lunch sitting side by side at the table closest to the emergency exit. They walk down the halls, talking in low voices, always close, and stop the second someone gets too near. The older one usually hooks a finger into the younger one’s back pocket. Neither of them seems to think it’s weird.

Rumor has it, a junior tried hitting on the younger one a few days after they got here, and the older one made a whole scene in the cafeteria—full-on death threats, aimed at anyone who even thought about getting too close to his little brother.

Some people swear they saw them stumble out of a janitor’s closet, both out of breath. The younger one had a bite mark on his neck, and the older one looked pretty damn pleased with himself. No one else had been in there with them.

No one knows where their parents are. No one knows where they came from, or where they’re going. No one knows why those weird noises keep coming from that motel room on the edge of town.

Everyone at school knows who the Winchesters are. Until one day, after school, they climb into that gleaming car of theirs and disappear—just as suddenly as they arrived.

[pleasure-as-a-means-of-survival]

"August" by (me) @xpurdyglambertx , art by @yoannspn

Written for @wincestreversebang !

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 12.6k

Pairing - Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Warnings - none

"Can you imagine? You, me, Cas, toes in the sand, couple of them little umbrella drinks. Matching Hawaiian shirts, obviously." What would've happened if Dean had survived the season 15 finale? Well, this is my fix-it fic interpretation, Wincest style! For the Wincest Reverse Bang, 2025. . The Winchesters had had a long year dealing with Dean's recovery after the incident on their last hunt. Now that Dean's health is in the clear, it's time to celebrate, and the boys (and Miracle!) finally get that beach day they'd always dreamt of.

I gotta absolutely shower the artist in praise for these stunning art pieces he has created for this Bang! I saw his art piece in the lineup and knew I had to have it! After Joan read my fic, he created the pairing "post card" looking art piece with Miracle's paw print on it! The art over all couldn't be more perfect, and he was the best partner I could've asked for!

Link to their art post here!

[babydollsammy]

I wanna make it clear that to me, pre-Stanford Sammy and post-Stanford Sam are two completely different people.

Sammy is a sneaky kid, a teenage dirtbag, bratty and smartassy and too clever for his own good. in public, Sammy is put together with clean clothes and brushed hair because being new at every school he goes to is hard enough, he doesn't need to give the other kids even more reasons to pick on him for. at home, Sammy has shaggy, mussed up hair and perpetually raw bitten lips, he sleeps in the same boxers for two days and doesn't shave and lets the jizz that landed on his stomach get crusty and painful to pick off. they don't have much money so he mostly survives on gas station sandwiches and the occasional apples, the oranges they seldomly get, every other fruit and veg would go bad in the heat of the Impala. he doesn't mind being sticky or unshowered, doesn't mind because he's learned it from his big brother, doesn't mind because they share that the way they share body heat or personal space or the same breath when they're panting into each other's mouths, close to orgasm. Sammy loves the boyish smell of Dean, loves to bury his face in his neck and taste salty sweat, loves to inhale the musk of his underarms, of the spot where his groin meets his thigh. Sammy doesn't know that there's more to life than holes in hand me downs, motel rooms that always faintly smell like mildew, a car with its vinyl reminding of old leather and cheap alcohol.

Sam, however, does know. he knows and he lives it and he holds onto it with all his might because control is something Sammy never had. Sam knows what it's like to have his own space, a room with a lock and floors that don't creak when you step on them, he knows what it's like to stand in front of the supermarket's shelves and pick a laundry detergent with a scent he likes, no matter the price point. he eats healthy because he can afford to, because his food doesn't go bad, because nobody will tell him off for it. he exercises because his body is his, it's his, he can do what he wants with it and what he wants is to be strong. in control. Sam, who falls asleep with his nose buried in vanilla scented blonde curls, who kisses strawberry glossed lips. the first time Jess asked him to iron their clothes, he even ironed their underwear, just because he could. it was clean and it was neat and he made the choice and he put in the work because why wouldn't he? he could, now. Sam, whose things have their designated place because he has a home now. and even when he doesn't, Sam refuses to kiss Dean in the morning unless they've both brushed their teeth, he yells at Dean because his brother is messy in a nauseating way, is dirty to the point of carelessness. Sam, who gets uncomfortable when Dean wants to lick at the sweat on his throat after a long day, when Dean wants to fuck him right after a taxing hunt, no shower no nothing.

Dean who is still Dean, always has been. Sam who isn't Sammy anymore, never will be again.

[every---single---night]

Finally filled my locket. And it’s resting beautifully on my wincest porn journal 💋🫂

[wincestboner]

i'm rather partial to service top dean in the sense dean is just happy to be there and let his gigantic brotherwife manhandle him, and sam is a spoiled little brother who knows his big brother will give him anything and everything without even having to ask........

[sampregg]

kiss (⁠ ⁠◜⁠‿⁠◝⁠ ⁠)⁠♡

[lesions-in-the-brain]

[coca-colas-truck-driver]

sam was a talkative and touchy drunk, sweet sappy words spilling out from spit slick pink lips, while he’d nuzzle into dean’s neck. “i love you, dee.”

dean had never had the luxury of being drunk enough, or sam wasnt sober enough, to enjoy those words. “i know.” was dean’s curt reply, his hand coming up to pet sam’s hair as his chest heaved in a sigh.

“let’s get you to bed.”

dean knew he shouldnt, but sam was always so grabby, pulling at his own shirt till he got it over his head before he fumbled with the buckle of dean’s jeans. sam’s words sounded like loud murmurs, slurred and slow as he tripped over his own tongue, “wanna feel you inside.”

sometimes dean would try and at least half heartedly grab at sam’s wrists, stopping his little brother for the time being till sam would wriggle free and fall forward, nosing at the bulge in dean’s jeans, the buckle half undone and pressing harshly into his forehead.

sam, either too drunk to care, or too happy to be close again after so many months, would stay there for a few minutes. his eyes shut, lips parted with each heady inhale as he made little pleased sounds in the back of his throat.

“lay down, ill grab…” dean trailed off, unable to voice it out loud as sam nods slowly, the red indent from the metal pressed into his forehead, and sprawls out on the bed on his stomach, settling in as if he’s about to go to sleep.

dean grabbed the lube, wandering back over and placing a hand on the small of sam’s back, whispering to sam to ask if he’s still awake. sam grumbled, his eyes pinching shut as he crinkled his nose up. it wasnt anything comprehensible, and dean knew he should leave sam alone… especially when sam’s features returned back to that peaceful contentness he only ever got when he was really asleep…

but he looked so pretty like this, his eyelashes fluttering on flushed cheeks, his lips slightly parted from how his cheek was pressed into his pillow…

dean undid his jeans the rest of the way, the clink of his belt resounding through the silent room. he slipped his jeans off, throwing them into the pile by the door and affording himself a moment to rub himself through his boxers while he looked at sam’s slumbering figure. his back rose and fell with every slow, deep breath he took.

it took some maneuvering and care to get sam’s sweats and boxers off, but once he did he was rewarded with the pale, unblemished skin of sam’s ass. sam was unresponsive, a stark contrast to how he’d usually be begging for something- anything- inside him by now.

dean was content to take his time, now that his little brother lacked his usual writhing and pleading.

“you want a cock in here? hm, baby?” dean smiled, his dry fingertips pressing against the clenched rim of sam’s hole. sam adjusted in his sleep, pushing his tailbone out and murmuring.

“shhh, shh” dean chuckled, grabbing the lube and slathering his cock in it.

the next morning sam was well rested, happy as a clam even as he limped around the morel room. he was content with the awkward answer of “you got kind of drunk… rode me before i could prep you properly and refused more lube”

dean wasnt sure if sam remembered waking up mid way through, whimpering as he arched his back and drunkenly slurred about how dean’s cock was too big, before falling back asleep after cumming. but sam seemed happy to not mention if if he did, and dean didnt feel like explaining why he fucked his little brother when he was passed out.

[10crowsinacoat]

If John was the one who showed up in Palo Alto saying that Dean was missing, Sam would have been in the car before Jess even woke up

[youmurderedmy]

[crying-in-the-pews]

Sometimes, Sam will drop to his knees, bend down or across, and remove Dean’s boots.

He’ll make a huff about it- “You’re such a slob, Dean.” “Dean, you’re getting the bed all dirty.” “Take off your boots before you sleep, Dean, you’re just going to complain about your ankles being sore in the morning.” -but it’s really all just muscle memory at this point.

Dean’ll respond accordingly, sighing, rolling his eyes, calling Sam a ‘neat freak’ who needs to ‘take a whole-ass bottle of chill-pills,’ Before inevitably groaning all the way down, unlacing his boots and toeing them off to clatter dried mud and whatever muck he’s trudged through to the motel carpet.

But sometimes, on days where Dean’s eyes will glint abrasively, challengingly, knowingly- he’ll grunt, “you do it then.”

Sam will blink at him in disbelief and ‘neat-freak’ offence, but his body would already be moving, approaching Dean wherever he is- spead-eagle on a queen-sized bed, thighs spread and slouched tiredly on a motel couch, stood by the door, car keys still hanging from a finger- and do it.

He’ll drop down, reach across, always silent. Unlacing stiff knots he knows Dean still ties with ‘bunny-ears’.

Dean’s gaze would be unbearably heavy, a flushed heat completely, definitely, entirely random in its acquisition of Sam’s face.

His hands would shake, mouth hung open slightly, as each large palm takes a heel of the leather and guides it down and off.

Sam’ll always try and act like his breathing hasn’t hastened, deepened, taking in that sharp big-brother-smell that offended both Sam’s need for clean and his self-respect.

Because he loves it- he fucking loves it.

Those wet-with-sweat socks clinging to each ankle- slouching as the elastics had snapped years ago- Sam wanted to peel them off with his fucking teeth.

Sam won’t be able to stop a whimper escaping when Dean shoves that foot into his chest- jovial and boyish- and Dean’s confrontational expression will change to one of intrigue or amusement. Because seeing Sam like this, kneeling or constricting himself to be up close and personal with something he says he hates, makes Dean ponder his brother’s true intentions.

So maybe Dean’ll make Sam do it more often, push his luck, maybe he’ll try and press the arch of a bare, sweaty foot to Sam’s face (as of which makes him instantly wretch away, sprint into the bathroom to the chorus of Dean’s cackling and spend a little too much time in there to be- okay, no, Dean could have sworn that was just a moan-) but it’s all just fun and games, really.

So what if Dean’s dirty laundry keeps going missing every now and again? It always shows up again later.

[sisterwifesam]

thinking about how sam canonically withdraws from sex after the cage, and the implications of that. erectile dysfunction makes sense but also .. something something lucifer castrated him. sam becomes sex averse, only feeling safe when he is alone and locked in the bathroom, when no one can see him, filling himself up with a huge dildo til it hurts (and he loves it) as a hallucination of his rapist kisses his neck and whispers dirty, vulgar things to him, praising him and calling him a greedy bitch, making sam whimper.

and dean knows. he can hear everything. and he feels so jealous, helpless, and angry. sam is marked by lucifer from the inside out, deep in his body, mind and soul, and dean cannot undo it. all he can do is claim what is left of his 'sloppy seconds' brother.