anonymous asked:

ok but like, Sam and Dean fucking for the first time after so long in faith. just, Sam seeing Dean dying he just, holds his big brother and tops Dean for the first time ever, and it's sweet and it's soft and it's so loving. just. ugh


Like, they’ve both been pining for each other ever since they reunited again. Dean has been the bolder one, a few times, letting Sam know what he wants but Sam’s been too worried about screwing anything up between them, so scared of ruining what they have. Now though, with Dean all weak and sickly looking, eyes determined but with a hint of fear, Sam just can’t deny him anything.

Dean rests his head against Sam’s chest, fingertips gently running beneath Sam’s sweater and he just asks: “Sam, please. Don’t say no.”

And Sam just kisses him, softly, picks him up – he’s so light, he must’ve lost so much weight – and lowers him to the bed. “You sure?” he mumbles, his thumb tracing Dean’s bottom lip. “We can wait. Until you’re better.”

The way Dean looks at him breaks Sam’s heart. He looks confused, almost angry. “I’m not gonna get better,” he tells him quietly. “Don’t let me die without having this, please. You do want me, right?”

And Sam aches because Dean looks momentarily uncertain, like he doubts that Sam wants him more than he wants air. “Yeah,” he whispers against Dean’s lips. “You don’t know how much.”

Dean’s mouth opens beneath his, and they kiss slowly and messily, Dean moaning weakly, fingernails digging into Sam’s shoulder. Sam undresses himself and Dean deliberately, fingertips mapping out his body. He lets his hands caress along the line of Dean’s torso, dipping into the hollow of his collarbone before he reaches down and grasps Dean’s cock; hard and straining against his stomach.

Sam marvels at how perfect it feels, how right, as he begins to stroke it.

Dean’s eyes draw open, impossibly dark eyelashes casting small shadows over his beautiful face which is so pale that the freckles dusting his nose stands out even more than usual. “Sam,” he gasps, pushing Sam’s hair out of his face.

Sam watches under silence how Dean spread his legs, his determined eyes never leaving Sam’s, and it’s the most erotic fucking moment of Sam’s life.

He releases Dean’s cock and finds his hole, gently running his index finger over it, breath hitching as he feels it twitch under his touch.

“In my duffle,” Dean says, blushing, and Sam kisses him again before getting the lube from Dean’s pocket.

Sam slathers his fingers with it, circling Dean’s entrance, his eyes firmly fixed on Dean’s face.

“Have you ever done this before?” Sam asks, pushing the tip of his index finger into Dean’s tight body.

Dean’s eyes are closed, eyebrows knotted in concentration. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Not recently though.”

Sam feels a stab of something. It’s not jealousy; because he knows that what they share is something far too profound and he doesn’t need to be jealous, not really. It feels a bit more like disappointment, that someone else got so see Dean like this, all spread out and beautiful, before he did.

Dean seems to sense Sam’s reaction, because he looks at him, bites his lip, and says: “It wasn’t like this. It could never have been like this. Sam, this is with you.”

Sam nods, rests his forehead against Dean’s and works another finger into Dean’s hole. It’s so tight, and hot, and perfect, and Sam’s cock twitches.

Dean let’s out a sudden hiss, and Sam freezes. “Did I hurt you?”

Dean shakes his head, his hips rising to meet Sam’s fingers. “More,” he breathes, and Sam can’t look away from Dean because he’s too fucking beautiful like this; flushed and just a little out of breath, eyes closed, his puffy lips parted.

Sam crooks his fingers again, and Dean makes a noise that makes Sam’s heart skip a beat.

“You like that?” Sam asks quietly, adding a third finger. His cock is weeping, begging for attention, but this is about Dean.

“Uh huh,” Dean manages, his hips fully moving against Sam’s hand now, shamelessly riding his fingers. “Sam, fuck, I’m – I want you to.”

Sam’s trembling, because he’s never been this turned on in his life, and he can’t stop himself from whispering into Dean’s ear: “You ready for my cock, Dean?”

Dean’s eyes are half-lidded, the look in them entirely certain. “Fuck me. I’m ready. Do it.”

Sam gets on his knees between Dean’s spread legs, feeling Dean’s eyes on him as he pours lube all over his dick, giving it a few strokes.

“You’re gorgeous, Sammy,” Dean rasps, his cheeks pink. “Wish we’d done this sooner.”

Sam lines his dick against Dean’s loosened opening, threading his fingers through Dean’s, anchoring him. “We’ll have time,” Sam promises against Dean’s lips, as he begins to push inside of him. “I swear, Dean.”

Dean’s fingers dig into Sam’s bicep, hissing as Sam works his way into him.

Sam lets out a shaky breath, overwhelmed by the feeling of Dean clenching around him. It’s so hot and perfect; better than he ever have imagined it, and he knows that he’s ruined for anyone else, he’s Dean’s, wholly and fully and forever, regardless of what happens.

Sam pauses to give Dean a moment to adjust. He looks closely at Dean’s face, looking for any signs of pain. “You OK?”

Dean grins at him; flashes him that smug, cocky grin that Sam has fallen so hopelessly in love with. “Never better. Now fuck me, I won’t break. And if I do, I’ll go happily.”

Sam lets out a shuddering sort of laughter before he begins to move, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back inside. He’s already so fucking close to coming, and he must briefly close his eyes because the sight of Dean beneath him is just too much.

“Yess,” Dean keens, wrapping his legs around Sam’s waist.

Sam thrusts grows steadier, deeper, as he wraps one arm around Dean, lifting him up so they’re flush against each other. He can feel Dean’s hot gasps against the shell of his ear, and everything is perfect.

“Ah, ah, ah - yes, there,” Dean moans suddenly, fingernails digging into Sam’s back.

Sam finds the spot again; hits it with every other thrust, and Dean mewls in his arms, begs for him to go faster, harder, but Sam maintains the pace he’s set. He won’t hurt Dean, and he would hate himself if he lost control.

“You think you can come like this?” Sam asks, still not able to tear his eyes from Dean’s face. “From just my cock?”

Dean moans then, his eyes meeting Sam’s and he comes messily all over their stomachs, and it’s the hottest thing Sam’s ever seen, Dean coming just from Sam’s cock, and he can’t stop himself. He comes inside of Dean, crying out his brother’s name as he fills him up. His orgasm seems to go on forever, and when he finally collapses next to Dean on the bed, he’s still seeing stars.

Dean smiles at him, lazily, his eyes tired and soft.

Sam threads his fingers gently through Dean’s hair, eyeing him worriedly. “You OK?”

Dean curls into him, and Sam can feel his heart beating beneath his far too prominent ribcage. It beats irregularly, and Sam wants to kill something. “Yeah, I’m more than OK. Considering that I’m dying.”

Sam hugs Dean as hard as he dares to him, buries his face in Dean’s neck. “I won’t let that happen. You hear me Dean? I won’t let it.”

Sam feels Dean tense up in his arms for a moment, then he relaxes again; allows himself to melt into Sam’s embrace. “Okay, Sammy. I believe you.”

When Sam finally falls asleep, he sleeps well, knowing that Dean finally has faith in him.

What Is and What Should Never Be

Requested ages ago by @stargazingbros: Dean and Soulless!Sam had sex, and now that Sam has his soul back, Dean doesn’t want him to remember.

Word Count: 1400

Warning: smut, top!Sam (Soulless!Sam), a lot of angst and an unhappy ending, oops

A/N: So this one is angsty. Sorry. I hope y’all enjoy the pain! XOXO

Sam doesn’t remember anything.

He hugs Dean like he hasn’t seen him in months, years even, holds on tight like it’s the first time they’ve touched in ages. Dean feels him shudder, feels Sam’s chest tighten as he breathes, holding back a flood of emotion, and Dean knows he doesn’t remember.

That’s good. That’s fucking perfect, because if Sam remembered anything about hell, anything about Lucifer, anything about the last year without a soul, it would kill him. Death put up a wall, and that’s exactly what Sam needed.

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“Thought you liked being carried?”  Sam chimed, grinning at his panicking brother.

Dean glared flustered at the ground, feeling entirely too weightless hefted up from the comfort of a solid flooring, “In theory, damn it - put me down!”  he hissed through grit teeth, because yeah, he might’ve said he’s turned on by the idea that Sam could maybe lift him - but he didn’t mean for the stupid little fuck of a brother to actually do it.

“Aw, Dean, you’re hurting my feelings,” Sam paused to pull puppy face number what the fuck ever, “You don’t trust me to keep you up?’  He ended with, and Dean clung tighter to Sam’s broad chest.

“I’m willing to admit that I trust no one to keep me up you over sized dick.”  Dean bit out, turning to glare at Sam and having his anger flush out to be replaced with pity because god damn was Sam good at the whole kicked puppy look.

“Dean…”  Sam said, soft, brow creased and his grip slackened, causing Dean to slip down a little and he glued himself to Sam’s body.

“Look, fine, I trust you al-fucking-right?”  Dean said, tone panicked and rushed and Sam’s grin brightened anew at that, his hold on Dean tightening and Dean blew a little sigh of relief.

After a moments pause, Dean stopped to stare at his bare feet, wiggling his toes with a terse look and realized that being picked up wasn’t so bad a thing, it was actually - well, freeing.  Especially for someone of his height.

Sam must have noticed some change on his face, because he leaned down a fraction and pressed a chaste kiss to Dean’s cheek, “Not so bad, right?”  Sam said, smile soft.

“Yeah,” Dean breathed, managing a half shrug from where he was posed, “Once I get over the whole fear factor, it’s kinda’ cool.”  And he was only half lying, because it was cool, but also really hot, and he wondered how long Sam could keep him suspended.

“Hey, Sam,” Dean began, looking to Sam who just now started to look a little tired from the effort of holding Dean up.


“Do ya’ think maybe you could,” Dean paused, bit his lip, continued, “carry me to the kitchen?  And the laundry room?  And the bedroom?  Actually - since you’re so cocky, carrying me all over shouldn’t be so hard, right?”  Dean asked, coy and grinning, and he could feel the tension running through Sam’s arms - big little brother was getting tired.

Sam looked taken back, a nervous look crossing his face before returning to the carefree grin, albeit accompanied by a small bead of sweat, “Well, yeah, uhm - of course.”  Sam answered.

“Cool,” Dean said, giving Sam an odd hug around the neck before leaning back, grinning when Sam grunted with the effort to keep him up and pat Sam’s tense shoulder, “Alright, lil’ bro, to the kitchen for some delicious in air action breakfast.”

Sam just chuffed a laugh in reply, before making the sure to be not-so-fun trek to the kitchen.


idk, some domestic!au fluff where dean let slip during the kanoodling that he gets off on the idea sam could carry him, so one morning when dean makes a prince charming joke bc of sams hair sam legit sweeps him off his feet, leaving dean to panic bc hey hes toll hold on his feet are meant to stay on solid ground kthnx

A Season For Everything

Written for the @spnkinkbingo square: Mpreg. [AO3]

For the purpose of this fic, let’s imagine a world where male pregnancies are fairly rare but not unheard of. This fic has been a long time coming and it got so disgustingly long, I don’t even have an excuse.

Has Dean ever mentioned he hates witches?

He really fucking hates them.

But right now, he also kind of loves them. Because Sam’s hands on his skin feel insanely good and his mouth—god, his mouth.

“This is ridiculous,” Dean manages to pant when Sam backs him against the wall, just barely remembering to kick the motel room door shut behind them. “We’re brothers.”

“Doesn’t feel ridiculous to me,” Sam says between kisses and Dean has to concede that he’s right. The next kiss, complete with a bite to his lip, makes Dean moan embarrassingly loud. The way Sam’s body presses against him definitely helps, too.

He breathes, “Jesus, fuck,” and tilts his head to the side when Sam starts biting along his throat. “Okay, okay, bed.”

Sam hums but it doesn’t look like he’s going to move any time soon. He tugs Dean’s T-shirt up over his head and then sets to work on his belt and fly.


Sam grunts, “Fine,” and turns them around, holding onto Dean just as tightly as he has been doing, and Dean soon feels the edge of the bed against the back of his knees. He lets himself fall, taking Sam with him and tugging him on top of him. “Jesus, get naked already,” he demands and Sam grins down at him.

He rids himself of his own clothes while Dean wriggles out of his jeans, and they throw it all to the floor in a heap.

Dean has never even had sex with a guy and now he’s about to fuck his brother. How did his day get derailed this fast?

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Dean was a shameless little bitch and he knew Sam loved it.

Sam, the respectable lawyer he had been dating for two weeks now, after they ran into each other in a coffee shop.

“Dean-o, you’re up next.” Crowley grinned at him, and Dean just winked back, checked his image in the mirror one more time – his lips were exceptionally pink without anything on them, the black button down he was wearing was way too tight, and his black panties were satiny and left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Yeah, I’m ready”, he gave back and Crowley gave the sign to Michael, and a second later Dean could hear the first chores of Warrant’s Cherry Pie. Smirking confidently he walked out on stage, all the way until he was standing in front of the screaming female audience, one hand over his crotch, thrusting forward, looking at them as if he’d like to fuck each and every single one of them, winked before turning back, going to his knees, and then lying down on stage, hips grinding against the stage, lips snarling.

Then he crawled over the stage, opening his shirt while doing so, turning his back to the audience, allowing two of the ladies to tug his shirt off. They were cheering and throwing money at him by now, Dean blew them a kiss before he looked at a short haired, curvy lady and wriggled his finger to make her move closer. He grabbed her hair and moved his crotch as if she was sucking him off, and she went along, moving in sync, until he pulled away.

For his finale Dean made the way back to the centre of the stage, touching himself as much as was legally allowed, raking his nails over his abs, grabbing his own ass before tearing the panties off so the only thing he was wearing was an equally black G-string. The girls were squealing and screeching, desperately trying to reach him to push money into his barely existing underwear.

Dean smiled smugly. He collected his money and left the stage after his song was over.

Dean was a shameless little bitch and he knew Sam loved it.

Sam, the respectable lawyer he had been seeing (fucking) for two weeks now, after they ran into each other in a coffee shop.

Sam showed up when Dean’s shift was over. He was talking to a group of girls that had seen him dance earlier, and they couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. At least until Sam walked up, broad-shouldered, 6’4 tall and jaw line sharp enough to cut. Dressed in a perfectly tailored suit with tie he just didn’t seem to fit in here. They looked at him as if they weren’t sure what to do, because Sam didn’t seem to see them, his kaleidoscope eyes were fixed on Dean.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit tomorrow.”

Dean blushed furiously. The girls almost jumped back, glancing back and forth between Sam and Dean, suddenly not sure what they wanted more: Touch Dean or be touched by Sam, but the look he was giving them was enough to make them disappear into thin air.

If Dean hadn’t been so focused on Sam he might have wondered where they went.

“Car, now”, Sam commanded. Dean nodded obediently and followed him. Sam was such a respectable man it turned him on beyond measure. He was also possessive as fuck and dominant enough to satisfy a part of Dean he had to keep hidden most of the time.

When he sat down in Sam’s Mercedes he smiled over at him.

“How was the trial, honey?”

“I won, darling”, Sam gave back, and leaned over to kiss Dean. “I hate it when these girls look at you like that.”

But Dean grinned only, knowing Sam didn’t really hate it.

“No, you don’t.”

“Well, I’m expecting my own dance once we’re at my place.” Sam looked over at him, eyes sparkling.

“Oh, I’m gonna make it good for you. But that won’t be cheap.”

“Don’t worry about money, boy”, Sam gave back, and Dean shivered, he would never get enough of being his boy toy.

Because Dean was a shameless little bitch and he knew Sam loved it.

monsters are always hungry, darling- part 1

Dean is alive. There’s air in his lungs, blood in his muscles, pushing him toward Sam. Toward home.

He knows Sam’s waiting.

He doesn’t know what Sam’s been doing while he was dead, and the demon blood at the corners of Sam’s lips almost makes him wish he was dead again.


Dean will save him. Dean will get Sam addicted to him again.  

Part 1 Summary: Dean tracks Sam down after being brought back from Hell. He finds out Sam’s dirty secret.

Word Count: 2700ish

Warnings: smutty smut smut, Sam is a demon blood junkie, canon divergence, top!Sam

A/N: This takes place at the start of Season 4. The canon divergence here is that there is no Ruby/Lilith story line. Just dark, angsty Wincest porn. Hope y’all enjoy, and don’t forget to pay your writers in feedback! XOXO

Dean isn’t sure how long it’s been. Too damn long. Long enough for him to get to the gas station. Long enough for him to steal a ride. Long enough to convince Bobby he was really himself, track down Sam, drive back to Illinois where he never wanted to be again.

And now all that stands between him and Sam is a motel room door.

And it’s taken too long to get here.

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anonymous asked:

Hey what are your thoughts on bottom Dean? Personally, I can't even see Sam as a bottom most days, mainly cause of his size.

Well. I love bottom!Dean. I love the idea of worldly, suave, big talking and shit eating-grinning Dean getting off from being put to his knees or bent over, from someone (um yes; stern, tight-jawed brooding Sam) to tell him to shut the fuck up and just give it up. IT’S DELICIOUS.

And I get the size thing, I really do. I’ve seen some stuff going around like “assuming Sam’s a top because he’s bigger is toxic because it assumes a stereotyped view of masculinity” and while I get the point they’re making, there is still something about statements like that that bothers me. To me, that’s just shaming someone for having internalized gender stereotypes and I’m like?? Maybe everything doesn’t have to be about that. Maybe I just think it’s fucking hot with size difference. Maybe it’s ok to just let people have their top/bottom preferences without telling them it’s “toxic”. This is fandom. Relax.

SO, um. Yeah. I adore bottom!Dean, but I’m not at all against him topping, and I write and read both. I think it always comes down to the way they’re being written, and wherever the story goes, I will follow. Top!Dean can be so so so lovely too, taking care of his darling little brother who will just look at him with big eyes and give his sunshine brother all of him.

Everything is wincesty goodness!

Thanks darling anon, xxNinni

anonymous asked:

do you prefer top!dean or top!sam?

I can’t decide. To me, it comes down to the dynamics of the story, you know? What aspects of their characters do the author tend to play off more? What season are we talking, what moment, in what context? Is it the first time?

Like, I absolutely adore a pre!Stanford fic with Sam all young and shy, looking up to his gorgeous, worldly big brother who can’t resist Sam’s innocence. Where Sam is so in love with Dean, wanting him to be his first. When it comes to weecest, I’m so weak for top!Dean.

But let’s consider season 4!Sam, running on rage and demon blood, bursting with newfound power. Maybe he gets off on it. Maybe Dean does, too. Maybe Sam just holds his big brother down for the first time, fucks him hard, and tells Dean to just take it, to love it.

Or trials!Sam, all weak and hurting, just begging for Dean to make him feel better. And Dean does, he does is so gently, taking his time, makes love to his brave, beautiful Sammy slowly, trying to ease his pain. And Sammy just basks in the safety he feels, if only for a moment, with Dean on top of him, inside of him, as close as he could possibly be.

But then, we have season 11. The Amara business. Sam tries so desperately to anchor Dean, to keep him from Amara, to show him who he really belongs to. Sam picks Dean up, fucks him against a wall, whispering into his ear that this is where he belongs, this is what he needs. This is what’s real, this is them, this is Sam, and this is everything they’ve ever needed.

And don’t even get me started on deaging!fics, soulless!sam, demon!dean… Endless possibilities.

Thanks hon!-Ninni

gone, but not forgotten (part 3- Final Part!)

Summary: Gabriel is dead. Gabriel’s been dead. And you can’t move on. Neither can Sam. But as the two of you find comfort in each other, you realize that your love and your life might not be in the past after all.

Part 1  Part 2

Warnings: smut, Sabriel x reader threesome, top!Sam, dom!Sam, Daddy kink, wing kink

Word Count: 2600ish

A/N: This was a commissioned series, and I had so much fun writing it! I hope you all enjoy it! XOXO

“So…” Sam’s voice is slow, caught between anger and relief. You can hear both emotions fighting in his words. “You were alive the whole time? Loki hid you, and you’ve just been…hanging out?”

Gabriel shrugs a little, spreads his hands and smiles his most charming smile, as he tries to come up with an answer the two of you will accept. “I mean, yeah. But you can’t blame a guy. Shit was gettin’ a little too real, you know?”

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