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From Calculations, a Wincest WIP:
Sam remembered the way things used to be. How it felt to burn and yearn for each other as they slept in separate beds, tantalizingly close but still too far apart. The illicit thrill of a quick handjob in a gas station bathroom, or a little head if they were lucky. And always, the gut-wrenching fear of what Dad might do to them if he caught them together.
Things were so much better now that they were free to do whatever they wanted. They could spend the entire night in the same bed, sleeping and waking up together. And now that they didn’t have to keep an eye out for Dad, they could explore each other’s bodies to their hearts’ content. No more furtive, hasty fumbling; just sweet, delicious pleasure that kept building until Sam thought his brain would explode.
How could they ever go back to the way things used to be?
Here is my entry for the latest title prompt in The Winchester Gospels Discord Wincest Wednesday Writer Workshop. This time the title was Bringing Up Baby . Enjoy!
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From Magical Thinking, a witch!Sam Swesson WIP:
Dean picked up one of the spell jars and examined it. “There’s some kind of rock in here.”
“Hematite,” Sam corrected. “It’s a crystal, not a rock.” He stared hard at the jar that sat in Dean’s hands. The impulse to rush forward and seize it from him was almost overwhelming. His fingers ached with the urge to grab the jar, to protect it. He shuddered and jammed his hands in his pockets.
“Hematite,” Dean repeated. “Okay.” He switched his attention to the other jars that he took from Sam’s closet. “You’ve got a lot of crystals in these jars. Other stuff, too. Beads, dried flower petals, buttons. And that one has… a nail?”
He gave Sam a puzzled look. “What is this, a craft project?”
“Not exactly.” Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He had never felt so exposed. Damn it, he should’ve done a better job of hiding his spellwork!
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From an untitled Wincest WIP:
Sam said, “In my dream, you were chasing me through the bunker. You called out to me, taunted me. You said there was no escape, that you weren’t gonna quit until you caught me. I was running as fast as I could. I knew you’d catch me sooner or later, and then I’d be… yours. But I wasn’t scared.”
Across the table, Dean hung on every word, his eyes locked on Sam’s. “You weren’t?”
“No. I was so turned on. I wanted you to catch me, Dean.”
“So what happened?” Dean’s lips curled in a knowing smile, as if he already knew the answer.
Sam grinned and raised a shoulder in a half shrug. “You caught me.”
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From Incident in a Small Town, a Supernatural WIP:
“No. Stop! Don’t hurt her!”
The agonized cry jolted Dean out of a light doze. He abruptly sat up, every nerve alert, and looked around the room.
Sam was in the other bed, breathing hard, head thrashing from side to side on the pillow. His teeth bared in a grimace, and beads of sweat stood out on his forehead. “Katie,” he moaned. “You have to get out. Now.”
“Sam?”
His brother let out a strangled sob that hit Dean like a punch to the gut. He hurried over to Sam’s bed.
“Sam, wake up.” He reached out and touched Sam’s shoulder.
“No!” Sam lashed out, wildly punching the air.
Dean jumped back to avoid his brother’s flailing arms. “Sam! It’s me. Take it easy, you’re okay!”
“Huh?” Sam turned to face him. Recognition slowly dawned in his eyes. “Oh. Dean.”
Dean held up his hands, palms out. “You’re okay. You had a nightmare.” His voice was low, soothing.
“A nightmare,” Sam repeated. “Oh, god.” He shuddered and put his hands over his eyes.
To celebrate this important tumblr holiday, please enjoy a special edition of our weekly word game.
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From Incident in a Small Town, a Supernatural WIP:
Dean hated the visions for causing Sam so much pain. It killed him to see Sam hunched over, gripping his head while tears streamed down his cheeks. He desperately wanted to do more than mutter meaningless words of comfort.
He knew how to eliminate the monsters they faced in their work. He could dispatch a ghost by salting and burning its corpse. One swipe from a machete would take a vampire’s head off. And a djinn could be killed by stabbing it with a silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood. If some outside entity threatened Sam, Dean would kill it. But how could he fight something that was inside Sam’s head?
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From My Heartstrings Come Undone, a witch!Sam WIP:
Dean emerged from his room and made his way to the kitchen, where Sam was at the stove, scrambling eggs in a frying pan. He looked up and smiled at Dean. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
“Yeah, I did. Thanks.” For a split second Dean considered telling Sam about his dream. It had felt so real, almost like a memory, and he wanted to share it. Hey, last night I dreamed that you and I were star-crossed lovers in another life.
But that wasn’t the kind of thing you said to someone you’d just met. It would make him sound like a psycho. They were getting along so well, and Dean didn’t want to screw it up by saying the wrong thing. He decided to keep quiet about the dream for now.
Forever on Clu Gulager alert. Always watching out for snakes. Finally found out where the fish lives. Still wondering how the flag on the moon got there. Forgot to sign Sherry’s birthday card. Would love to know if there is beer on the sun. Turning my crank to Frank every day. Still putting my faith in Blast Hardcheese.
ALT
