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[andthenweburned]

Merry fluffy friday, my friends. Sam is such a kitten sometimes.

[andthenweburned]

a brother is a boyfriend who cant ever actually leave, that i can also hit and touch as much as i want

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all my thoughts on this art

by @Coolihiharmony

[andthenweburned]

sam and dean shared their first kiss in that firework flashback that dean had!! that’s why he looks all bent out of shape and awkward <3 he remembers so vividly cradling sams face and how desperately they kissed, like they were trying to eat the other. it lasted for an uncomfortably long amount of time, mostly because they’d been waiting so long to finally do it, dragging it out until they couldn’t hold back anymore ♡

[andthenweburned]

Dean ate that baby brother pussy out naaaasssssty on the hood of the impala that Fourth of July I hope y’all know

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Dean, I can relate.

[andthenweburned]

17 year old dean fucking 13 year old sam on one of the crappy motel mattresses, pressing his little head into the pillow while sam grasps onto his brother's face like his life depends on it. they're needy and clingy with each other, refusing to let go even once dean's pumped every last load he has inside of him into sam. so they stay glued together like that for hours, until they fall asleep in the middle of the day, bodies laid against each other.

[andthenweburned]

when John is alone with Sammy

[andthenweburned]

NEVER FORGET YOU.

“I miss you,” Sam spoke, only a little above a whisper, glancing over at Dean and taking in his beauty; he was as breathtaking as ever. Sam could feel his chest tighten at the thought of his brother’s departure. He didn’t want to be left alone again while his brother and John went on a hunt. Instinctively, he moved in closer and crawled into his brother’s lap without a word. He was desperate to be close to him.

“Hey, don’t look at me with those puppy dog eyes… I’m right here,” Dean smiled, pressing their foreheads together. Sam let out a soft breath as he brushed their noses against each other. His heart was pounding hard in his chest. The stars were mocking them, he was sure of it. Sam had wished on every single one for the past week, without any luck.

“I know, I just miss you,” he said as he squeezed his brother tight. Sam felt like he was holding on for dear life. He felt tears starting to fall. He didn’t want to cry. He hated crying. Dean pulled back a bit from the tight hug and immediately began wiping Sam’s tears away. He looked at him, confused.

“Stop crying,” he murmured, watching his young brother cry in his arms and lap.

“Kiss me,” Sam sniffled as he looked up at Dean with puffy, red eyes. His heart was shattering in his chest, and he felt fearful. The older brother was shocked by his little brother’s request but did as he said anyway. He pressed a soft, loving kiss to Sam’s lips. Sam immediately kissed him back, savoring every single moment of it. He shoved his tongue into Dean’s mouth. They made out under the night sky for what seemed like ages, hands all over each other.

Dean began kissing down his brother’s jawline, making his way to his neck. He sucked a small mark into it. Sam let out soft noises as his fingers tangled in Dean’s hair, tugging at it. He felt chills and heat all over his body. He’d never felt like this before, it was otherworldly.

“No more… Dad will see,” he breathed out, pulling his brother back from his neck. Dean flashed him a grin.

“Wear that old Metallica hoodie that’s shoved under the bed,” he smirked at his younger brother. He loved how good his little brother was. He was so proud of him.

Sam was about to respond when he heard the sound of a car on gravel. He quickly flung himself off his brother and stood up. The sting of the hickey on his neck made him wince. He put his hand over the mark as John got out of the car. Dean gave his brother a warm smile.

“Come on, let’s get going before daylight… we can’t hunt those sons of bitches in the daytime,” John reminded his eldest son. Sam looked down at the ground. It was like John didn’t even see him. Dean nodded to his father before looking back at Sam. He walked closer and cupped the young boy’s cheeks, pressing a hard kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Sammy. Remember… Metallica hoodie, under the bed,” he mumbled as he pulled back from the kiss.

—

Sam looked around frantically as he was awoken by the sounds of thunder and rain. His chest ached with a deep, familiar grief, the kind that never truly left. He was still alone. John had disappeared a month ago, leaving him in the cabin with nothing but memories and the ghost of his brother. Neither of them had been the same since Dean died, but Sam knew deep down he was feeling it harder than his father.

Tears streamed down his face, and he wiped them away just like Dean had done in his dream. He truly didn’t know how he was supposed to cope anymore. He slipped out of bed and began looking for clothes. His heart dropped when he remembered what his brother had said in the dream: Metallica hoodie. He shook his head. He hadn’t opened Dean’s duffel bag of clothes since he’d passed. He couldn’t bear to.

He pulled the bag from under the bed and opened it up. He began going through it until his eyes landed on a familiar hoodie,that damned Metallica hoodie. Instinctively, Sam brought the fabric to his nose and took a deep inhale. It smelled just like Dean. He began to choke back sobs. He’d almost forgotten what he smelled like. He hugged the hoodie tight in his arms for a moment before pulling himself off the floor.

He walked into the bathroom, still holding the hoodie, and placed it over his body, looking in the mirror. It was much bigger than him. He wasn’t growing into it anytime soon. His breath caught when his eyes noticed a small purple mark on his neck.

His hand immediately reached up to touch it. How was that possible? Dean had been dead for almost a year. He quickly pulled the hoodie down over his body. He smiled a little. He felt insane. He sat down on the bathroom floor and wrapped his arms around his knees, hugging them. He screwed his eyes shut.

“I love you too, Dean,” he whispered.

*photo not mine*

[andthenweburned]

[andthenweburned]

Entry for Daddycest Discord Server Challenge, "Moodboard Madness"

This moodboard was the inspo.

[andthenweburned]

Howdy howdy! Back with another Masterpost for another challenge from the Daddycest Discord Server!

This round was Moodboard Madness, where server members had a choice between five different moodboards as a prompt to inspire either fanfic or fanart, and boy, they knocked it out of the park! Kudos to all who participated! The moodboards each member chose are linked in their works!

Want in on the fun? Join our Discord server, here! We welcome anything within full house wincest (and more!)

Now, without further ado...

Moodboard Madness Masterpost

Rating - Mature

Fics

All Heroes End Up Martyrs - by @nuturalsuper

Word count - 1.5k

Pairing - Dean Winchester/John Winchester

About Dean and his relationship with his Father and religion and how those two can get mixed up.

Hound's Tooth - by @xpurdyglambertx

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 1.5k

Pairing - Dean Winchester/John Winchester

How funny, that something as fragile as me, feels safest when in your grasp. . OR Quick and nasty John/Dean sex. Written for the Daddycest Discord Server's Challenge, "Moodboard Madness." The moodboard I chose as inspiration is at the end of the fic!

Hell On Heels - by HellOnWheels8675 (on AO3)

Rating - Mature

Word Count - 561

Pairing - Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Sam's on a date. It ends the same way they all do. With his brother’s load in his ass and a body to dispose of.

Hold Me Down - by @holyfreaks

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 660

Pairing - Dean Winchester/John Winchester

Dean is John's light in the darkness. John considers what it means to be soft, and he fucks his son.

Poacher's Pride - by @corn95

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 1.3k

Pairing - Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Sam (17) and Dean drink one night when John is gone. Sam confesses his potential college plans, and Dean negatively reacts.

Grizzly Bear - by @crowleysmistress

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 499

Pairing - Dean Winchester/John Winchester

John is always telling Dean to not wake Sam. Sam thinks that John is the noisy one.

Again - by @samanddean76

Rating - Explicit

Word Count - 587

Pairing - Jack Kline/Sam Winchester

Omega Jack needs to satisfy Alpha Sam. He just hopes he can.

Art

Small Pockets - by @pumpcidraws

Rating - G

Pairing - Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester

Description - At 18 Dean got really big and his hands no longer fit in Sammy's short pockets

[andthenweburned]

FUN IN THE SON COMING SOON. SEND IN YOUR SICKO FREAKNASTY PROMPTS.

[andthenweburned]

this is somehow a 3.4k word drabble that was supposed to be a 'john and dean started fucking some time after sam left because john couldn't figure out how to save dean from the bottle send post.' i just got on my adhd meds that are toxic af and i'm feeling VERY weird and wearing earplugs bc there's a siren blasting outside and i ain't rereading or editing this good luck.

sam is gone and john's dealing with it and dean drinks himself half to death because he never learned to cope on his own. he always had dad + sam to look after and suddenly dad is distancing himself and reevaluating everything after his youngest ditched the family and there's a hole in dean's chest and head that thoughts of keeping sammy safe used to occupy and now it's just a gnawing maw of despair he fills with liquor.

he's confused and hurting and sleeps around like never before. john, once he comes to and realizes his oldest son isn't there, has to fish him out of dives on more than one occasion. they start hunting back to back. dean tries going solo (like he's been for about two years now) and john puts a hard stop to that. they hunt together.

motel clerks don't even ask, they just assume and give them the keys to a single king suite to avoid awkward question, incidentally making the whole thing even more awkward when the first time it happens john comes back to swap rooms. it happens again. dean awkwardly jokes, making a point to address john as dad in conversation. once it starts it just never stops, and dean backslides to heavy drinking again.

john drinks with him a few times, then he stops. he's learning to deal and cope with things in absence of sam and with dean's withdrawn emotional support. probably starts feeling guilty as dean's been there for him since he was a 5 year old child and john lets him hit these newer and newer lows.

john tries to put a stop to it. he tries to keep him in the place they call home for that day--week--month. he tries drinking with him to keep an eye. goes to the bar with him. dislocates the jaw of some piece of shit he overheard harassing dean for being cocksuckingly pretty.

dean's a mess. suddenly it hits him his dad isn't relying on him for emotional support and is sticking by his side more like an equal than the man in charge. instead of feeling relieved/elevated/happy/accepted, it fucks dean up more. he's been groomed and parentified into the role of a caretaker, and he messed it up, and now dad's taking it away from him.

the feelings are getting confused, and the haze of mind-altering substancing isn't helping. who is this man? is that his dad? he'd still occasionally bark at dean and then say sorry all of a sudden, does he think dean's gonna leave him too?

the family dynamic switches too fast for dean to keep track. they're father and son they're commanding officer and his soldier they're hunter and hunter they're hunting partners they're drinking buddies are they friends? holy shit is this what having a friend is like? they're family they got mistaken for a couple yet again they're playing a law enforcement officer and subordinate they're investigating a haunting in an underground queer space they get mistaken for a couple the clerk at the motel gives them a disgusting look when dean pointedly calls dad 'dad' john drags dean off a girl in a bar because he got an urgent SOS message dean is feeling like he wants to fuck again to feel good to make someone feel good to make himself feel alive they run into a pair of hunters and dean sees them kissing in the campfire light at night he's so lonely he doesn't wanna touch anyone he wants someone to comfort him he gets drunk dad holds him dad can't leave him please dad touch him drunk dean kisses him he cries he's so confused he's scared he hits the bottom of the bottle again john leaves john comes back the map on the front seat of the car shows he was visiting palo alto without dean he's a disappointment of a son despite being the one that stayed he's inconsolable dad won't hug him anymore he won't even touch him won't look at him please can you just hold me? it's unfair i love you i loved him and he left me and you're gonna leave me because i messed up i'm a mess and you hate me i know you do you can't lie to me.

john will have his oldest son his soldier falling apart at the seams and the only thing that comes back to mind is he was a bit younger than dean and more of a fool and just as lonely shellshocked and scared and in constant fight or flight mode in vietnam and the only thing that helped was a quick tumble with a comrade in the combat zone. there were no barracks there were no trenches it was just heat and cloying soupy air you wear and mud and fear and death everywhere but when you have your brother in arms' hand down your pants it all disappears for a minute.

what's the worst that can happen? dean is splitting away from him and his own self already; what's the worst thing that can happen if john fucks him into the bed? the first time this thought pops in john's mind he gets a hot spell, a full-body flush then turns cold with dread again. he doesn't want to think about it but he always knew dean was heart-stoppingly pretty; he knew it, men with a certain inclination to destroying pretty things knew it, bars trucks gas stations big cities motels, john has always needed to be vigilant, painfully aware somewhere deep in his head it's not just monsters dean should be wary of. sam was growing out of the risk of potential human predator and dean has always been growing into it.

other men can think it and john can't? monsters can think it and john can't? he can think it. what's the worst that's gonna happen? if dean seems to want his reassurance so much but won't accept it in any other form john can translate it into something dean understands better. always a ladies man always down for pleasure and release with no strings attached.

dean's still deep in thought carrying a single key up to the motel door that they both know is gonna be a single king. he's not expecting it when john shoves him into the door once it closes behind them, full body weight against dean, holding him by the lapels of his own leather jacket dean's been borrowing since he was still in school.

the spur of confidence john felt dies. goes out like a candle on a terrace at a strong gust of wind, but john still has his son against the door. he's taller. he leans down, kisses dean's temple. it's scratchy, sides of his hair freshly trimmed, feels tingly and weirdly good against john's lips, so he does it again, kisses his temple.

dean'd call him, confused, dad? and john's go center of his face, kiss him on the forehead, move down to place a quick peck at his nose, under his eye, his cheek. dean should be getting this by now, and oh yeah, he does, turns his face up, starts shaking, meets his lips in a clumsy kiss.

john would kiss him on the neck when he'd feel the tension in dean's body come to a peak. he's just stone frozen; so tense it's a wonder he isn't snapping in half. john can go back to the clerk and demand another room, leave dean to this one, get his own space. he sleeps on the floor instead, painfully aware dean doesn't get a wink despite the comfort of the bed in their suite.

dean sleeps through the day when john's driving. john keeps watching him, looking for his family's traits in that face, or mary's, mary's old man, mary's mom they called dean after. who calls their son after his grandmother? john didn't doubt mary's choice when she made it but now he's thinking their whole family is cursed and mary was cursing dean to a fate like this when she named him. the face that makes men want to push dean down to his knees and have their way with him.

john's not a monster, but does acknowledging what he sees in dean make him one? or does that make him someone who doesn't shy away from the truth? is he making things up? is dean just your average handsome looking guy? why is john thinking of him as the victim in his head? he taught dean better than that. he taught him to be the caretaker in the family. mary picked dean's name and john picked his place — all of this is on john.

he gets absolutely wasted, shoves dean away when dean shows up to take him back to their room from the bar. they fight, john splits dean's lip against his teeth. he never hit his kids outside melee training and that doesn't count as hitting; this doesn't count, either, but he feels so fucking guilty for it, pushes dean against the wall to keep him in place, grabs his face and turns it this way and that under the lamplight above to assess the damage. teeth in place, just a split lip.

a tip of dean's tongue darts out to clean up the blood. there's more on his chin and john wipes it with his thumb, looking over dean's face. he's wide-eyed and his eyes are pale green and john can't get a read on his son at all.

what do you want from me? what do you want me to do? just tell me, just fuckin' tell me 'cause i can't keep guessing.

dean won't say a word but there's fear in his eyes; he's afraid to answer that question.

john'd say, i'm your dad. i wasn't much of one before but i am, now

'is this because you're afraid to lose me too?'

that's the only sincere thing dean could ask. and yes, yes it is, they lost sammy but he's still family and dean's the only family john has that's sticking by him. what a mess of a man, what a mess of things john's made.

'do you even like me?'

how can dean ask that? is there even a question? but the fear of the truth in both his and dean's head is clear on his son's face -- of course he doubts it. of course he doubts his place. john raised him as the perfect hunter, so does john like dean the hunter? does he even like him as a person?

john realizes he's still holding dean's jaw in his fingers, his hand so big against dean's delicate face the mere size difference is obscene. he lets go, reluctantly, watching as the white bloodless marks from his fingerprints fill up with red. 'that's gonna bruise.'

dean's eyes dart down. 'i like that.'

words that go straight to john's dick. he lets out the most pathetic, suffered sound he's heard in is entire life. 'i'm not gonna do it, dean. i can't do it.'

dean's brows do this pathetic routine of a sad puppy face.

'i love you too much to do that. i can't do that, you can't ask me to. it's--it's not like that. we're not like that.'

but he sees it. he sees it in that pair of queer hunters they met months ago; in that gay bar dean insisted on going in alone for the job but he was so messed up in the head john didn't let him; he sees it. he was never much of a father, but he can still be here for dean, he can, it won't even be hard, it's right there, the feeling's right there, the image of bending dean over and slicking him up and thrusting into him is right here on his mind. dean would make the prettiest noises, he'd feel so fucking good, he'd be perfect, god he'd be just perfect around a cock, under john's weight, on top of him, it's like he was born for it, made by heaven to be desired n coveted and messed in the head just right to want it too.

john hits the wall behind dean, hits it right by his head, making dean jerk and turn away, eyes squeezed in anticipation of a punch.

'i won't do it, dean. i can't do it. jesus, you can't even say it and you want me to do it?'

'so if i'll say you'll--' dean cuts himself off, breath stuttering, still not even looking at john. 'i just gotta say it?' sounds like some stupid say the word and it's yours bullshit tv cults are peddling. john runs a hand down his face, like trying to wipe off the apprehension.

'i don't know, dean, i don't know if i can give it if i don't what is it you want from me.'

the staff door from the bar slams open, rusty hinges an offensive sound in the dead of night, a bartender that's been slinging john drinks this whole night takes two huge garbage bags and throws them into the metal bin on their left. he briefly looks and dean and john and shakes his head, going, 'dude,' incredulous, before disappearing back inside.

john looks back at dean, preparing to let go, hoping the spell is broken.

dean looks at him like the spell's taken even stronger, another outsider taking them the wrong way. like wishful thinking spoken into the cosmos so it comes true. more of that tv nutjobs shit.

dean's face is set, features hard, eyes so bright and wet and watching. 'i want.' he breathes, licking his lips. inhale, exhale, a second, two, five, half a minute. it's stupidly long that they stay in silence, john's back to holding dean by his own jacket, too big on dean's shoulders. 'i wanna make you feel good.' tension in dean's body, like he's bracing for impact. 'i want me to feel good. i wanna feel good together.'

john's nodding. john's nodding before dean can even finish the sentence. he's nodding because he gets that, because it doesn't sound like the worst sin in existence if it's about feeling good. you love someone and you want them to feel good. he can make dean feel good. he can feel good with dean around him, with john's dick buried deep inside, he knows it'll feel good.

he's not even that drunk when they get back to the motel. it still takes a little time, john's not twenty like dean and the whiskey isn't the best cure for this, but he hasn't been this hard in a decade when things get going. dean swallows him down his throat like a pro; makes john so fucking mad, makes him so mad he shoves deeper, grabs dean by his hair in a way he knows will hurt a bit. won't hurt him much, but to make a point, because where the fuck did his ladies man son learn to take cock so well?

in a week's time dean's completely blocked sammy out of his mind. if sam knew what dad and him were doing, he'd probably kill them both. jesus, he'd kill them both and maybe then take himself out. sammy always wanted the normal so if he ever knew about the dean and john family normal, he'd wanna end it all.

it's weird, knowing what keeps dean tethered, what gives his mind a sharp focus, what keeps his hand from straying towards a drink is the exact same thing that would mess sam up fierce.

dean's ass hurts from taking it up so often. he buys a bunch of gay magazines and spills them on the front seat as they're leaving town, and john looks at him with a raised brow and that blank expression that's not exactly positive thinking but not that deep that it'll unsettle dean. he can read it easy -- dad's thinking, what the actual fuck are you doing now, so dean replies, 'sorry, did you know my ass hurts? thought i'd read up on this shit from the professionals.'

john doesn't say a word after that. dean finds a good article that actually answers most of his questions and thinks, should he shove this one magazine in dad's lap, or should he take care of things himself? go back to bearing responsibility or sharing it?

dean can't make up his mind. it's way too weird, giving dad a manual on how to fuck him properly. john already fucks him properly -- dean sees fucking stars with a dick rearranging his guts.

he leaves that magazine on the bedside table when going out scouting for a job and when he comes back, he thinks it's angled a bit different, not how he left it. makes a weird feeling spread in his stomach. it's a porn mag -- maybe dad just looked at the pics -- at the pics of other men -- twinks more delicate than dean, what the fuck -- wait, what the fuck, are you fucking jealous -- cut it out, it's your dad -- yeah, it's not like dad would swap you for some ass off the street, that kinda bond has to run deeper than that, it's not like there's an endless supply of sons as there is of twinks--

that last car of dean's train of thought makes him puke. he heaves violently, not even making it to the bathroom, folded in two on the floor hugging a paper trash can and expecting, any minute now, to see blood there after the next bout of spasms.

john finds him on the floor like that, panicked immediately -- are you hurt, are you poisoned, did you see what did it -- did you have too much -- and dean cries to him. he cries about sammy, and never letting anyone touch sammy, and he can see it in john's face that he's breaking his heart and he tries to explain he isn't thinking the worst of john because he knows better than that, but if any of them ever touch sammy's he's gonna take both himself and john out. he's gonna do it, he'll do it, don't ever fucking doubt that, anyone touches sam, they're gonna pay.

it's an intense two and a half years together, and dean's face would wash into a stranger, into mary, into his son, into a lover, a stranger john fell for, his son he defiled. it's insanity split for two--dean's just as set on catching the yellow-eyed demon, and letting dean go solo feels like missing not a limb but a whole side is gone with in an explosion with fragmentation digging into his skin.

when sam's room burns down with his girlfriend gone in the fire, john pulls up in the impala with dean in the passenger seat, and they stay there awhile, silently thinking which one has to face sam. john's too worried about his son to remember the relationship, and dean is so sickly puppy-loving missing sam that the grief of sam seeing them and telling right away -- of the guilt because sam called it, he called dean and john for what they are years ago -- the fear he's gonna turn them down, turn dean down, that he missed a chance at ever mending the relationship with his baby brother -- it's all so strong it makes him violently ill in the car. he has to stumble out, attracting attention from sam's friends and then sam himself.

sam sees dad and runs to hug him, crying, babbling about jess on the ceiling and sorry he doubted you, and dean thinks he's gonna pass out there. dean thinks he's gonna pass out. some of sam's friends approach him to physically support him, a stranger's hand on dean's shoulder, and all dean can see is sam untangling himself from dad's hug and looking at dean like he sprouted a second head. dean, what's wrong?

jesus, would you step away from him -- you shouldn't -- always been such a smart kid, sam'll know the second he touches them -- he's already touched dad and he looks so concerned, as if it isn't his girlfriend that just burned up -- god, dean is SO SELFISH, piece of shit, piece of shit, this isn't about you, get it together --

he comes to with sam hugging him, starts talking nonsense, he's sorry, dean's so sorry, and sam has no idea it's not his college girlfriend dean's apologizing for.

[andthenweburned]

something secret, something shared , Wincest+Full for @beetlejuicelover (warnings for underage)

“Jesus, sweetheart…”

Sam whines a little when Dean calls him that. Writhes on Dean’s cock and arches his back as he rocks his hips down with a filthy slow grind. Dean can’t keep his hands still when he touches his brother. Down the soft slope of his sides and across bony hips, thighs spread wide, fingers splayed over the flatness of Sam’s belly.

Rested against the wall sitting halfway up, Dean watches that perky ass ride him, Sam going reverse cowgirl and doing it like he’s auditioning. When he takes a deep breath Dean can see the mole-dappled expanse of his back pull across lines of ribs, knobby bones of his spine curving down, down. No matter how much Dean feeds him, Sam stretches out more, taller and taller and he never loses that starved-skinny look that Dean hates to love.

He can see more of Sam when his skin pulls so tight that the parts underneath push out.

Spreading his hands up Sam’s belly, Dean can feel the smallest bump of his cock-head pushing out too, just under Sam’s navel, and he hates to love this feeling. Something he shouldn’t want, something secret like skinny boy hips bruise-kissed hiding under baggy jeans. Something shared, Sam laying his hand over Dean’s and pressing.

“So full, I can feel myself in here.”

Keep reading

[andthenweburned]

“They love each other in dark motel rooms and truck stop bathrooms; love each other with a look or with a breath or with quiet fingers finding bare skin in a back seat. They love each other like the moon loves the sun, like the forest loves the rain, desperate and dependent and wholly consumed, love each other with steady hands on gun triggers and knife hilts, lives saved so many times the debts stopped being debts and became their souls instead, grown together like scar tissue on the jagged edges of a long forgotten wound, like saplings planted too close together, tangling and accommodating and fusing, twins conjoined at the chest and skull and soul, separation not recommended, survival unlikely.”

— Brothers shouldn’t - Charlie_Snow (x)