#gencest fic

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Someplace Called Bamberg

Author’s Note: Wrote this based on the @wincestwednesdays July Wincest Fest. The prompt for the first week was: americana / american gothic / parallels

This ended up completely gen, but I'm happy with it.

Words: 2909

Just a little fic about Sam and Dean at a seedy, rundown carnival in 1999.

Read it on AO3

--Saturday, July 3rd, 1999--

It had been raining for most of the past week as they’d worked their way through Georgia and up into South Carolina. When they’d checked into the Relax Inn in someplace called Bamberg just after 3pm, the rain had slowed to a steady drizzle that lasted another two hours before the clouds had finally been wrung dry, which meant the sun had come back out.

Somehow, in that way that only seemed to happen in the deep south, rather than offer any lasting relief to the sweltering summer temps, the rain only made it feel hotter. As soon as it stopped coming down, it would steam right back up off the pavement and make the air feel like a wet, wool blanket, hot and suffocating. Even now, with the sun finally setting, and the ground already looking dry and parched, there was no sign of relief. Not that it seemed to be stopping anyone but Sam from enjoying themselves. He felt like he’d been sweating non-stop for days and he was tired of the neverending dampness.

An hour ago, Dean had driven them to a carnival that had sprung up on the outskirts of town in the parking lot of a long vacant car dealership. The garish lights, whirring rides, and blaring music trying vainly to hide how rundown everything was. But everywhere Sam looked, all he saw was chipped and peeling paint, burned out or missing light bulbs, dirty splotches of old chewing gum, and carnies that looked like they hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in years.

Dean, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of his life ogling the various groups of scantily clad girls that seemed to be everywhere. And, as far as Sam could tell, the girls were having just as much fun ogling him back. 

Still painfully pretty, a descriptor that Sam typically reserved for when he really wanted to piss his brother off, Dean had filled out over the last couple of years, and the combination of broad shoulders, muscular arms, big, green eyes and his annoyingly perfect face, seemed to draw a lot of favorable attention his way. Although Sam still occasionally wondered how and why their dad ever thought it was a good idea to let Dean loose on the world, he figured it must’ve only been because dad had never noticed how many of the appreciative glances Dean drew in came from men. Of course, Sam wasn’t entirely sure that Dean’d noticed either.

“Dude.” Sam said with a level of disdain only a sibling could pack into a single word. The line they were waiting in moved and they both stepped forward.

“What?” 

“One word… Jailbait.”

Dean scoffed and kept smiling at a particularly well-endowed blonde who definitely didn’t seem to mind his attention. “Isn’t that two words?”

“No, it’s one word. You’re 20, Dean, and she’s probably younger than me. You are officially a creeper.”

“Aw, come on, Sammy, I’m just looking. Besides, no way she’s under 16.”

“Still, ew. Besides, we’re supposed to be looking for a monster, not stalking schoolgirls.”

“Oh my god! Maybe you should lighten up and try smiling at some pretty girls instead of scowling at me? And maybe, if you’re lucky and get some action, it would improve your goddamn mood.”

Sam glared at his brother but managed to keep his voice low. “Getting some action,” he made air quotes with one hand, “is not going to improve my mood, if it means we weren’t paying attention and someone gets killed because of it. Aren’t you the one who’s always lecturing me about how important hunting is? Get that big head of yours in the game and stop thinking with your little one.”

“First of all…” Dean leered at him, “nothing little about it. And second, whatever is killing these people, if it’s even in this town, is not at this carnival.” 

“Oh yeah? And you know that how?”

“Because dad sent me here… with you.” Dean moved forward as the line advanced again. 

Sam fumed for a second before stepping up next to him.

“We’re next, what do you want?” 

“I don’t care.”

Dean glanced at Sam and shook his head before shifting his focus past him for a second. He looked between whatever had caught his attention and his brother as if connecting dots, then leaned in close to Sam and nudged his arm. When Sam looked up, Dean nodded for him to turn and look. “All I’m saying…” a pretty brunette with long braids and bright blue eyes smiled at Sam before looking away shyly, “...is that life is short, and often brutal, so when it gives you hot chicks… carpe noctum.”

Dean stepped up to the window in the food truck and smiled at the woman inside. “Hi! Two funnel cakes and two lemonades please.”

--

A few minutes later, Sam was sitting, perched on a stretch of temporary metal railing, picking halfheartedly at his funnel cake, while Dean leaned next to him, powdered sugar dusted around his mouth as he obscenely licked his fingers clean.

“Dude.” Sam said, laced with disgust this time. “How do you even get any girls at all? You’re so gross.”

Dean shrugged and wiped his hand off on his jeans. “It’s like Cindy Crawford’s mole.” He tapped a finger against the side of his mouth. “Without some sort of flaw, I’d be too perfect. This way I’m less intimidating, approachable, you know?”

“Having the table manners of a rabid toddler is not the same as a beauty mark, Dean.” 

Seriously, he thought, how were they even related? Dean was practically lounging against the railing, his elbows out to either side, one hand holding his drink while the other quietly tapped the opening riff from Kashmir, which had been the song playing in the car when they’d gotten to the carnival. He had one leg bent, heel of his boot hooked over the bottom rail, white tee shirt pulled tight across his shoulders, the cord of the amulet Sam’d given him just visible around the back of his neck before disappearing under his shirt. He looked a bit like a 50’s greaser, minus the leather jacket.

A couple of older girls, who may have actually been 18 this time, giggled at Dean as they walked by. 

“Ladies.” he said as he flashed them a smile. The giggling bubbled up into actual laughter as they hurried past and Dean’s smile faltered the tiniest bit.

“You’ve still got powdered sugar all over your mouth.” Sam said before taking a sip of his lemonade.

Dean pulled the front of his tee shirt up and wiped his mouth with it before turning towards Sam who nodded that he’d gotten it clean enough. Dean eyed the remains of Sam’s funnel cake. Sam held it out towards him. 

“Go for it.”

Dean smiled as he took the paper plate and quickly devoured the rest of the sugary, greasy treat.

--

At full dark, a fireworks show started up while the national anthem played all scratchy and discordant over the carnival speakers. Scattered exclamations of oohs and ahhs followed every colorful burst. 

“Remember that field we set on fire a few years ago with that box of fireworks?” Dean quietly laughed. Sam didn’t say anything, but he remembered and he smiled. 

There were times, when his brother wasn’t gross or annoying, that felt like anchors in his life. Not in the sense that they weighed him down, not usually, but more like they grounded and connected him to something stable, something permanent in a life of non-stop motion. Precious little in Sam’s life was stable. He could count on one hand the things he could really rely on. The first was always Dean.

“Come on, Pipsqueak, I wanna ride some rides before we call it for the night.” And he sauntered off without a backwards glance.

Sam fell into step next to him, easy as breathing. “I’m almost as tall as you.” 

“Yeah, well, almost only counts in horseshoes and handgrenades.” Dean threw an arm around Sam’s shoulders and pulled him into a sudden headlock as they walked.

“Dude! Ugh! Get off of me!”

“What, you’re getting so tall, Sammy… make me.”

“Dean,” his voice cracking embarrassingly and sounding a lot less threatening and way more little brother than he’d wanted. But Dean just barked out a laugh and planted a loud kiss to the top of Sam’s head before releasing him.

--

As they waited in the line for the Scrambler, the ride at least stirring the air up into a breeze as it zipped around and around, Dean sighed and shook his head. “Yeah, there’s nothing more dangerous here than a bunch of rigged games.”

“How can you be so sure though? Dad couldn’t be at both carnivals and he said he didn’t know which one was more likely to be targeted, right? And he trusts you,” the implication hung in the air, “so how do you know that no one here is in danger?”

Dean frowned for the first time that night, “I don’t know, just my gut, I guess. My spidey-senses ain’t tingling. Everything here just feels so…” he opened and closed his hand a couple of times, as if trying to grab the feeling out of the air, before shrugging it off with a disappointed sigh, “...banal.”

Sam looked around, studying faces, clocking body language and hand movements, took a deep breath in and opened up his senses, not even sure what he was searching for, just trying to take in as much information about his surroundings as he could. “Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean.”

Turning back towards Dean, Sam caught a second of his brother looking at him, pensieve, chewing on the side of his lip, before the ride attendant unhooked the chain and started ushering the waiting line onto the ride. Dean’s eyes lit up with a smile as he slammed his shoulder into Sam, pushing past him to get on the ride.

“Ow, jerk.”

--

It was getting late and the crowds were really starting to dwindle. Nothing worthy of noting in their dad’s journal had or was likely to happen, but if they went back earlier than John expected them, they’d be subjected to a grueling cross examination. It was easier to just do their due diligence and stick it out to the end, plus even Sam had to admit that they were having fun. 

“I gotta piss.” Dean veered to the right towards a row of porta-potties tucked in behind the game booths. Sam followed him away from the main thoroughfare but then drifted to the left where there was a cluster of cheap tables and plastic chairs, presumably for patrons to sit and eat at, or maybe the carnival workers took their breaks here, but there was only one other person there now and they seemed to be asleep. He sat down quietly, as far from them as he could while still being able to see them. Laying curled half over the table, their head on one arm, hair falling across their face, in the dim lighting, Sam couldn’t tell much of anything about the person, just that their hair was longish and in need of a good wash, and their clothes were almost theatrically tattered, like they’d been cast to play the role of a homeless person in a movie.

“It’s rude to stare.” they said in a surprisingly deep, smooth voice. 

Sam looked around, Dean still hadn’t returned, and no one else was nearby. When he glanced back, the man had rolled his head up so his chin was resting on the back on one hand, dark eyes twinkling from under the lank hair.

“I wasn’t…” Sam started until the stranger raised an eyebrow at him. “Sorry.” he said instead and then added, “I’m just waiting for my brother. I didn’t mean to bother you.”

The man took a long slow breath and sat up, stretching his long arms and rolling his shoulders. He nodded once. “It’s been a long day, but I think I’ve got one more reading in me. You interested?” 

There was a worn deck of cards on the table in front of him.

Sam shook his head. “My brother’ll be out in a second and all I’ve got is…” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a few coins that he quickly added up then said with a small laugh, “Um, seventeen cents. So, I’ll pass, but thanks.”

“Well, well, well. Luck is on your side, young man, because that’s precisely how much the last reading of the day costs.” He scooped up the cards and began shuffling them. “Come on, everyone wants to know their future. It’ll just take a minute.”

Every warning that his dad had ever given him whispered across his mind. They were hunting something that was killing people, and John seemed certain that it was somehow picking its victims at seedy, rundown, traveling carnivals. But there was something about the moment that struck Sam as safe, so he stood up and moved to take a seat across the table from the raggedy fortune teller, although he did make sure to stay out of reach of the man’s long arms and was fully prepared to bolt if needed. As soon as he put the dime, nickel, and two pennies down on the table, the man set his deck of cards in front of Sam.

“Cut the deck.”

Sam looked at it, glanced over his shoulder, half expecting Dean to be right there to slap his hand and chew him out for being so stupid. But they were still alone and the heavy humid air made him feel like the world was holding him in its mouth, breathlessly waiting. 

Fuck it, he thought, and reached out and quickly split the deck into two piles.

The man placed what had been the bottom half of the deck on top and started dealing out cards.

“This is you.” he said with the first card laid down, it was the 3 of Swords. 

The man paused, looking at it, and then picked it back up. Picking at it with his fingernail, it turned out to be two cards stuck together. He separated them and set them back down, still overlapping, but so both could be seen. The other was the Page of Wands. “Huh.”

He looked at Sam and his eyes flicked past him for a second, before he focused back on the deck and turned the next card, laying it to one side of the first two.

“This is your past.” It was Justice.

He flipped another card and laid it on the other side. It was the 6 of Swords. “This is your future.”

He flipped one last card and laid it sideways across the middle two. “This is the complication.”

It was The Devil.

The man breathed out a long sigh.

“What does it mean?” Sam asked.

“It means you’ve got a long, hard road ahead of you, kid.” A lot of his act had dropped away so suddenly that Sam actually found himself taking him seriously for the first time. “Shit. Okay, so yeah.”

He sat forward. “You are going to go through a lot of really bad shit, harder and more unfair than what you’ve already been through. Life is going to do everything it can to get you to give in, give up, let go. It’s going to use your own feelings of unworthiness against you. Don’t buy into that crap. Don’t give up. Don’t stop fighting, no matter what. You do not want to know what will happen if you fail.”

At this he touched the two cards in the middle and spread them a little further apart. “The good news is that if you keep going, you will get through it, and… you won’t have to go through it alone.”

Sam heard the soft crunch of footsteps approaching. The man looked up and past Sam. 

“Sam?” Dean said, a cautionary warning and question all at once.

The fortune teller looked at Sam, there was a lot he was leaving unspoken, Sam could see it in the man’s eyes. But he smiled and then shrugged and collected his cards. “You’ve got someone watching your back.”

The man stood up, he was taller than Dean, but lanky and long, so he seemed to unfold from his chair. Cards and coins disappeared into his pockets. He nodded at them both and walked back towards the lights of carnival, whistling what sounded a lot like the opening riff of Kashmir.

“The hell was that? Seriously, Sam? I left you alone for like two minutes.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “It’s fine, Dean, I’m fine. The guy offered.”

“Oh my god! Do we really need to have the ‘don’t take offers from creepy guys at creepy carnivals’ talk? Because I honestly thought you were smarter than that.”

Sam shook his head. “I’m not a helpless little kid. It was fine.”

Dean’s brow knit together as he looked Sam over and then looked back the way the guy had gone. “Whatever. Come on, it’s late enough. Time to get outta here.”

He reached out and tugged at the shoulder of Sam’s tee shirt, pulling him along after him, keeping him close.

“So, what’d he tell you? Anything interesting in your future?”

“Nah, same stuff as always.”

#gencest #wincest #wincest wednesday #samdean #pre-stanford #gencest fic #spn fanfic #spn fan fiction #dean winchester #sam winchester

[hello-starlingfics]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Nightmares, Gencest | Emotionally Incestuous but Non-Sexual Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester, Platonic Cuddling, Sam Winchester Has Trauma From Lucifer's Cage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Caring Dean Winchester, Sharing a Bed Summary:

He’d had the same dream for three consecutive nights. He’d had it before, the familiarity adding the dread of inevitability to it all.

When he woke up, he was always drenched in sweat and gasping for breath, sometimes screaming.

#Gencest fic #gencest #wincest #wincest fic #my fic

[prince-of-elsinore]

Ten First Lines

I was tagged by @redmyeyes to post ten first lines from my fics. Thank you for the tag, this is a fun one! Opening lines always fascinate me. The first nine here can be found on my ao3 (starting with the most recent and working back) and the final one is my current WIP (fics are Wincest, Gencest, and Deanjohn). ...

The Tar Man first appeared to me in Plano, Texas.

The brake lines in Mrs. Shapiro's 1986 Ford station wagon need replacing.

Sam's still in his stage makeup when he pulls his brother into an empty classroom in the wing off the auditorium.

When Sam suggested they warm up, this was not what he had in mind.

New Orleans in the middle of July is hell.

He spends Christmas Day driving west.

Storms stir shit up.

They're side by side on the ratty motel couch, staring at the foreign object like it might bite them.

Dean is well acquainted with the post-hunt adrenaline rush.

Dean aches between his shoulder blades.

... Let’s see, who hasn’t been tagged? How about @nigeltde-fic, @damnable-bell, @decadent-prince, @flownwrong, and @lynne-monstr (hi!!) if y’all feel like it, and anyone else who wants to join!

#my fic #tag game #wincest fic #gencest fic #. #spn

[weirdbrosinc]

sam giving dean road head because he just can't wait until they get to the motel to taste his brother. dean's trying hard not to roll his head back, with a hand in sam's hair and the other shaking on the wheel. sam just keeps fucking his throat on his brother's cock because it feels like it's been so long since he's had this last, even though really it's just been a couple days... they're codependent your honor <3

#spn sam winchester #dean winchester #samdean #spn #spn dean #spn imagine #supernatural #weirdcest #dean x sam #gencest #wincest kink #wincest smut #wincest #sam winchester #sam x dean #sam and dean #deansam #wincest adjacent #wincest fic #the winchester brothers

[shinelikethunder]

#any self-respecting fic author would've tagged it with both but a network tv show in 2009 would be sweating BULLETS #the & in the episode title is also a slash btw. in spirit. sex and violence ARE siblings and they ARE kissing with tongue in this ep. #supernatural #sex and violence #spn s4 #wincest #gencest

[monstersandbrothers]

in general I think the “[character] is forced to go to therapy to address all their fathoms of traumas and repressions and talk about them head on” trope is arguably a really lazy/cop-out writing crutch because it forces the narrative to handle issues in a very shoving-it-down-your-throat way, and there are definitely more interesting and subtle ways to do that ………….that being said , wincest therapy AUs are literally my favorite thing ever and I’ll gobble that shit breakfast lunch and dinner. please Torture the man by forcing him to say things that have been festering and rotting inside him all his sad little life <3

#spn #supernatural #wincest #dean winchester #sam winchester #thinking in particular about baba o’riley & Eleanor rigby walk into a bar #rec me ur fav wincest in therapy fics! #samdean #gencest

[the-gray-ghosty]

Sam and Dean invite Cas to a movie night in the dean cave, and Cas sees dean already sitting in one of the chairs and is like "should I sit on the floor, since there's only one chair left?" And Sam's like "Nah it's fine! I always sit here" and he just sits on Deans lap [and Dean wraps his arms around Sams waist as they somehow fit together perfectly]

#samdean #this is so fluffy #but i just read a super angsty death!fic and i need some domestic fluff right now #fluff #bunker #domestic!winchesters #castiel pov #outsider pov #sam and dean #wincest #if you want #or gencest #sam winchester #spn #supernatural #dean winchester #mine #castiel

[holyfreaks]

uhhhhhhhhh for the ficlet thing uhhhh can i get uhhhh sam and his twin sammy and dean and uhhhhh a #44

44. Psalms 40:2 by The Mountain Goats

samdean fic ~100 words

The roads in this part of Missouri-- aka the middle of fucking nowhere-- are pretty bad. Dean tries to take it easy on the speed, headlights bobbing on the road with every pothole they hit. The motel they're going to crash in for the night is still about twenty minutes away. Dean's got some Zepp on the radio, the windows down for a cool summer breeze, and his baby brother by his side. Not much else he could ask for.

He looks over to Sam who's engrossed in a book, flashlight wedged between his shoulder and cheek. He watches his brother's lips move silently as he reads. He feels warm in his chest. All he can think is, I love him I love him I love him.

spotify top 100 fic ask game

#samdean #weirdcest #wincest #gencest #spn #samdean fic #wincest fic #nep's fanfic #nep's writing #nep's asks #ask game #i hope i understood what you wanted correctly lol #this was fun

[supernaturalkickparty]

I wrote a teenchesters one shot!

Read here

90s teenchesters through John's POV. Video rentals, John being home for a change, weirdchesters/teenchesters.

A thought past through my head last week when talking to the bestie about Sam and Dean renting movies and it remained a thought until the muses bitch slapped me and I made this one shot.

It's just cute domestic pre series fluff.

Written for the bestie @fandom-hoarder because she's amazing and listens to all my ramblings and ideas and I love her.

#ash writes #sometimes #teenchesters #gencest #gen fic #pre series #teen sam winchester #teen dean winchester #john winchester #john tries #90s vibes #weirdchesters #spn fic #john winchester pov

[ghostl-yy]

Chapters: 1/4 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Underage Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, John Winchester, Bobby Singer (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Sibling Incest, Bad Parent John Winchester, Abusive John Winchester, Mutual Pining, Rape/Non-con Elements, Guilt, Rape Fantasy, POV Sam Winchester, Sexual Tension, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Hurt/Comfort, Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:

There has to be something wrong with Sam. It’s the only explanation, the only reason why he likes it. Likes touching Dean and likes when Dean is touching him. He hates it when his dad is watching and he hates that it makes Dean all sick and shaky but he likes it too.

#wincest #weirdcest #gencest #supernatural #fanfic #my writing #pls read my fucked up fic <3 #sam winchester #dean winchester

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Rolling - Chapter 6

[gif by 67chevy-imagine]

Just a hunt fic with lots of weirdly close brother moments. Dean’s got issues, y'all.

Words: 716

Relationship:  Just the brothers being weirdly close, no smut but this is pushing right up against wincest and implies they've had incestuous thoughts about each other.

Warnings: Angst.

Read it on AO3

Read from the beginning here

Dean looked at the menu Sam had handed to him. “Dude, it’s almost dawn, I don’t think the pizza place opens for, like, twelve hours.” 

Sam sat back down on his bed. “Yeah, I kinda forgot about the time. But it’s the thought that counts?” 

Dean gave a little laugh. It wasn’t much of a smile, but Sam still considered it a win. 

“You wanna keep talking, or should we watch a movie or something?”  

“Movie.” Dean said quickly.

Sam tossed him the remote and sat back against the headboard, stretching his legs out. Dean mirrored him on the other bed. 

Pre-dawn was not a high ratings time slot, clearly, and they’d finally settled on Breakin’ 2 - Electric Boogaloo because neither of them were in the mood for QVC and Dean nixed the documentary about SETI. He said that the narrator’s voice made him want to punch things. 

It was maybe an hour later and without looking away from the screen, Dean said without preamble, “We’re really both that screwed up, huh?” 

Sam glanced at him for a second before looking down at his hands and then back at the tv. He didn’t know what to say so he just nodded his head. 

“Man, if Dad knew how bad he messed us up, he’d kick his own ass.” 

“Yeah,” Sam smiled ruefully at that. “But I don’t know how much of it’s his fault. I mean, we had an insane childhood but he did the best he could, which, yeah, could have been a lot better, you know? But, there’s the whole soulmate thing which is… weird? Is it weird?” He turned and looked at Dean.

“Doesn’t seem normal.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s what I thought too.” They were both quiet for a while before Sam said, “But it doesn’t feel wrong.”

Neither of them said anything for an entire commercial break. Finally, Sam continued. “I just, I don’t think it needs to be this big thing, you know, doesn’t really change anything, but I, I think it’s important.” 

Dean looked at him. 

Sam pressed on, “It goes back to what I keep saying, I’m not going anywhere. I know that now because, well, because there isn’t anywhere else I would rather be. This…” he waved his hand between them in a way that took in the whole room, “... fits.”

Dean looked down, Sam couldn’t quite make out his expression.

“You know all those times I said that I don’t swing that way?” 

“Yeeeeeaaaaah?” Where the hell was he going with this, Sam thought. 

“I was serious, man. You’re not my type.” 

Sam laughed and nodded. “Bullshit.” 

“Hey, I’m not the one who almost married a girl who looked a lot like…” 

“What about Lisa?” 

“... and who had the same birthday as my brother!” 

“Okay, yeah, that was a strange coincidence.” 

“And please don’t tell me any more details about Ruby.” Dean gave an exaggerated shudder. 

Sam laughed. “Fair enough. So? Are we good?” 

“I think we’re colossally fucked up. But, we’re fucked up in the same way, so that’s okay. Right?”

“Right.” After a long pause, Sam added, “I’m still sleeping in your bed tonight.”

Dean nodded and then sighed. “You’re like an octopus when you sleep, always have been. But now you’re a big, sweaty, hot octopus.”

“You think I’m hot?” Sam deadpanned.

Dean stared at him, Sam could see the big brother urge to murder in his eyes. He didn’t see Dean's arm move, the pillow came at him too fast. Sam barely managed to bat it away as his face cracked into a wide grin. 

They didn’t know what finally did it, figured it was just getting it all out into the open between them, but something had changed for the better. They shared a bed for almost another month before they realized that Dean’s nightmares had stopped. And though neither of them ever admitted it, they both felt a little weird in separate beds again, at least for a few nights. But then it was just like it always had been. They had their ups and downs, they fought and got over it, they made an ongoing series of stupid decisions that almost ended the world several times, but through it all, they had each other, whether they wanted it or not.

#gencest #wincest #wincest fic #gencest fic #dean winchester #sam winchester #this has turned out to be the longest fic I've ever written #for what I had thought was just a one shot to help me get back into the flow of writing it really had some staying power #y'all I had no idea where this was going but I think it turned out pretty good considering #and I manage to bump right up against the line of wincest without actually crossing it which had been my original intent so yay me

[hello-starlingfics]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Bad Things Happen Bingo, Gencest | Emotionally Incestuous but Non-Sexual Dean Winchester and Sam Winchester, Comfort, Sickfic, Sick Dean Winchester, Caring Sam Winchester, Cough Syrup, Post-Episode: s15e19 Inherit the Earth (Supernatural), no beta we die like the winchesters Summary:

The thing was, a lifetime of not coming down with these everyday little illnesses meant that, despite shrugging off stabbings, bullet wounds, broken bones, and any other amount of physical injury, any time they picked one up neither he nor Sam had any real clue how to deal with it. They struggled every time, and always ended up cranky and overdramatic. That’s why Dean had decided to stay in bed, because he figured there was a limit to even Sam’s patience with his bitching and self-pity over this.

Written for the @badthingshappenbingo​ prompt ‘cough syrup’.

#Gencest fic #wincest fic #bad things happen bingo #cough syrup #sickfic

[platonic-soulmates-gencest]

Remember that breastfeeding fic I mentioned? Well, I started on it... This is the prologue. I want them to actually address this (aka, Dean slips up and Sam learns about this and they talk) when they are in the bunker though and I am trying to figure out what the best timing for that is... Any help will be really appreciated ;;

Read the prologue below:

It started with Bobby-John. 

Dean had sworn off changing diapers when Sam turned five. He missed everything about baby Sam except changing his diapers. Then again, changing Bobby-John’s diaper didn’t feel as hard. It must be because Dean was more than twice the baby’s size this time. It still brought back memories though.

Dad would push Sam to Dean’s arms every time and Dean would change his diaper without a word of complaint. It felt familiar back then. It reminded him of Mum.

At that age, Dean wanted to do everything Mum did for Sammy. It hurt him when there was something he couldn’t do. He had forgotten about it. The helplessness he felt when he couldn’t provide for Sam.

Looking back now, it was such a stupid feeling. Obviously, Dean couldn’t make milk for Sam. He wasn’t a girl. He was also too young to be able to do it anyway. God, Dean couldn’t be more thankful that nobody else knew about it. Sam didn’t remember and Dad never knew. Dean never let Dad see. He could feel Dad’s eyes following Dean around. He knew Dad saw someone else there. It made Dean just the tiniest bit happy to be able to make Dad smile but he couldn’t let Dad see how he was failing with the one thing Mum could always do; make milk.

Dean learnt how to heat up a bottle early on. He couldn’t count on Dad preparing it. Sometimes, Dad got too drunk to do much of anything. Dean could handle it once he had enough strength to move the chair to the counter and climb on it.

But those first months after the fire, Dean didn’t know how to make a bottle and sometimes Dad forgot about it. Sam would cry and cry and cry and there was nothing Dean could do.

He still remembered it with a terrifying clarity. How he would cradle little Sammy on his lap and pull up his shirt. How he led little Sammy’s mouth to his nipple and shushed him softly. How Sammy suckled on his nipples for hours after even if nothing came out. How Dean cried the entire time about how useless he was.

He knew how to make the bottle now. Taking care of Bobby-John was much easier in an adult’s body.

Dean wished he could have done the same for little Sammy but that was a mistake he could never rectify.

Tagging: @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell (not really the whole fic but yeah)

#gencest #samdean #spn #weirdcest #wincest #honestly not sure how far this fic will go #probably not all the way to wincest but idk yet #mother dean winchester

[fandom-hoarder]

#tumblr please post this omfg #if it goes through i will add ID. i am DYING OUT HERE #asks #anon asks #ask games #writing game #my fanfiction #spn ficlet #sam n dean #teenchesters #gencest #gencest wincest whatever it is #case fic #ish #camera roll game

[monstersandbrothers]

sam goes to stanford, and it's every nightmare that dean's ever had come true.

—

Hello! sharing some spn fic I’ve been working on, part of a longer fic but who knows when I’ll finish it. But I like this so enjoy!

#supernatural #spn #spn fanfic #Sam Winchester #dean winchester #samdean #wincest #gencest #preseries spn #stanford era #angsty Dean Winchester #wincest fics #angsty Dean u will always be famous

[prince-of-elsinore]

incoming anon meme this is anonymous>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>🕵️

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

whoooooo could this mysterious anon be hmmm 🔍🔍🔍

ok here are my five faves :) in no particular order:

Plano: Some Town Halfway In Between - While John is hiding from the law, his youngest son experiences disturbing visions (Dean/John from Sam POV). A horror fic that was also a super fun experiment with first person. I like a challenge!

December, Sutter County - Dean celebrates New Year 2002 with a woman from the bar in his bed, but his mind is elsewhere (Stanford-era Dean character study). I'm proud of the writing craft and use of setting in this one. Road trip fic, or anti-road trip fic?

Baton Rouge - Sam and Dean drive into the heart of a storm (post-15x19 first time Wincest). Probably my top fave if I had to choose, in no small part thanks to a certain wonderful beta... I'm a sucker for late-canon first time, and for hot handies in the bathroom when the power's out :)

Understand the Undernetting - The summer Dean was fourteen he fell in love with the hooker next door and learned monsters come in many forms (Weechesters gen or pre-slash). Probably not the kind of fic I'd write any more, but I'm glad I did. It was fun to weave an OC into the young boys' insular lives and poke at their blurred boundaries.

Time to Look at One Another - Dean comes to see Sam in Our Town. He has some thoughts about the play's depiction of love, life, and death (Teenchesters gen, Sam POV). My first published spn fic. A little sweet, a little wistful.

Thank you, you very anonymous anon nonny you! 💕

#self rec #wincest fic recs #gencest fic recs #spn fic #my fic #spn #ask meme