#I was gonna tell him about wincest

[toasty-broski]

Honestly, you can’t blame people for shipping Sam and Dean when you have episodes like Tall Tales and have them acting like straight up BOYFRIENDS!!

(Im saying this because I was watching that ep with my brother last night and HE is the one who said “they’re acting like boyfriends”. Like EYE didn’t say it!!! HE did!!)

[jerksbitch]

Wincest or destiel

LOLLLL ur so silly <3

wincest . Period. destiel is a fine ship & i can understand why ppl choose that path. but unfortunately: the shippers. they ruined it for me long ago. they hate TOO hard & the fact that it’s directed towards sam most of the time is extremely cringe . and learning that many of them haven’t even seen s1-3 makes me feel sick like PLSSSS watch a different show……

[bunnysbrainrot]

Guessing Game

Kinktober Prompt: Oral

Relationship: Sam Winchester/Reader/Dean Winchester (no Wincest, ew)

Content: EXPLICIT (18+ only), oral (f and m receiving), A LOT of degradation, praise, pussy slapping, p in v, DP, creampie (recreate responsibly), this is filthy so please be advised, ‘bitch’ is used in the dirty talk.

Summary: Can your body tell the difference between the brothers? If you’re correct, you’ll be rewarded. If not, well…

A/N: Writing this had me completely soaked i’m not gonna lie. ANYWAY HAVE FUN.

Darkness shrouds your vision under the blindfold, having been tied around your head by Dean moments before you were carefully stripped down, layer by layer, until you lay completely bare on his bed. He gives off hardly any sound to gauge your surroundings, as if a predator animal circling its prey.

Goosebumps run along your arms as cold air brushes by, but the presence stirring this air is different than Dean. You freeze where you lay, closing your legs and covering your aching tits with your shivering arms.

Despite your uncertainty, your exposed core is molten while you wait for Dean’s voice to ring out. Your body is rigid once more when someone else speaks.

“We’re gonna play a game.”

Sam’s voice is low and clear, and now he’s seen you stark naked, sprawling open on his brother’s bed, waiting for your boyfriend to please you. You reeled silently over where and when he could’ve made his way into the room. Had he been here the whole time, watching everything?

Familiar hands slide over your shielding arms and coax them apart, letting cool air kiss your pebbled nipples.

Dean whispers, “It’s okay, baby girl, you’re safe with Sammy. He ain’t gonna hurt you.”

Your head snaps to his voice, about to protest, but Dean’s mouth finds yours in earnest, groaning into your slacked mouth. You swallow his sounds nonetheless, hearing Sam’s voice echo around the room once again.

“Dean, want to explain what’s going on?”

Your boyfriend hums against your lips before he breaks away, mumbling against your cheek.

He mutters, “Poor Sammy’s been pretty lonely lately-“

You can sense Sam’s scowling, “No, I haven’t-“

“So I invited him to play, too.” Dean’s lips work across your slacked jaw, trailing up to the tender spot below your ear, making you squirm into his lean form.

The warmth and softness tells you that he did away with his own clothes, and all you could imagine was if Sam did the same.

“A… game?” you whisper.

A new hand wanders to your calf, radiating a deep warmth into your skin. It’s bigger than Dean’s, so you instantly know it’s Sam at your lower end.

Sam’s voice is closer to where you lay, you tense at his words, “Just one rule: guess who’s who.”

“Mhm,” Dean hums against your collarbone now, skirting his lips downward, “y’gotta guess if it’s me or Sammy makin’ you feel good, sweetheart.”

One of the brothers slides a hand to your chest, palming your tits with eagerly, since Dean was near your chest when he kissed you, surely it was him.

You nip at your bottom lip, stifling a moan as two fingers roll your nipple. “Dean.”

“Nope,” says Sam, landing a sharp slap on your tit, striking your perk nipple. You release your lower lip with a cry, panting softly at the twinge of pain.

“Wasn’t me, baby,” Dean mutters, right below your belly button, ever lowering himself, “if you get it wrong, you get punished. If you get it right, you get a reward.”

You nod dumbly at the instructions. The hand on your tits brushes your cheek, then travels between the valley of your breasts, and vanishes. The only sensation on your body is a pair of lips traveling toward your thighs, and what lies between them.

“Now, let’s see what we’ve got here,” says Dean, his voice sounds from between your thighs, closing in on your dripping slit.

Somehow, the mystery of this, and Sam’s surprising involvement sends fire roiling through your gut, and straight to your needy pussy. You shift your thighs together and clench your cunt onto nothing.

Dean’s fingers spread your slick folds, gently prying your thighs apart with a free hand. You relax your legs and flex your hips wide, baring yourself to him, and giving him free reign over the sight before him.

A low whistle sounds above your tummy, “Fuck, that’s a pretty pussy, Dean. Every night?”

“Just about,” Dean replies. Their voices mix too closely to differentiate who is who, sending you into a tizzy. “But that pussy’s mine whenever I want it.”

Sam comments, “Lucky guy. If I had a girl with a pussy like this, I’d be using it every night.”

Two fingers dip between your folds, using your slick to easily slide past your entrance, and curling perfectly inside. You gasp, giving your answer with a shaky exhale.

“Dean. It’s Dean.”

He purrs, “Attagirl - you’d know my fingers anywhere, wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” Dean pumps his fingers one, two, three times before he removes them.

You whine at the empty feeling, rolling your hips to search for something, anything, to gain pressure from. Your clit throbs between your slick folds, aching with need.

A pair of hands pries your thighs open, holding you securely before a tongue slides into your slit. You release a soft moan and buck your hips onto the warmth. It’s familiar, but the hands aren’t the same.

“Dean?” you ask waveringly. A low hum sounds against your clit, sending the tremors through the aching bud.

Sam’s voice sounds from above Dean’s head, “Smart girl. I’m just holding you open for him, honey.”

You smile at your success, still letting yourself relish in the sensations flooding through your clit, happily lapped at by Dean. He swirls his tongue around your pearl, taking it between his teeth to make you hitch a breath. Dean smiles wickedly against your pussy.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Dean announces, breaking away from your sex. A moment passes before you hear him again. “Guess who.”

His voice is still near your thighs. You aren’t spread open again, but a tongue dips between your folds and finds your clit, teasing and light. It feels like Dean, with its soft lapping and swirling motions, mixed with thick stripes from your throbbing hole to your hardening clit.

A light pinch on your thigh instructs you to answer, “Dean.”

The mouth breaks away and is replaced with a harsh slap, directly on your clit. You cry out, loudly.

“Wrong,” growls Sam. His thumb runs a circle around your clit, pressing harshly enough to make you cry out. The mix of pain and pleasure is overwhelming enough to make you cry. Tears prick the back of your eyes, welling over and slipping past your cheeks, dampening the blindfold.

Dean’s voice startles you next to your ear. His thumb swipes along your cheekbone, collecting remnants of your tears.

“Aww, don’t cry, pretty girl,” he coos, “did Sammy hurt you?” The touches on your clit soften up. Sam’s fingers brush around further, wet with a new slickness, and he hums happily.

“I dunno, Dean. Little slut’s still getting wet,” Sam protests, dipping a finger past your tight entrance. Dean’s smile is palpable, and a new wickedness fills his tone.

His mouth brushes your ear, “You like that, baby? Y’like it when he slaps your little pussy? Never knew you were such a slut for the pain, sweetheart.”

“Whore for it, more like. Fuck. Practically dripping for me,” Sam’s fingers delve further and curl, longer than Dean’s and striking deeper than you’d ever felt. Your back arches with the motions, followed by soft, whimpering moans as Sam pumps his fingers through your fluttering walls.

Dean’s mouth finds your nipple, licking and biting with fervor. A free hand travels to the other and twists roughly, making you gasp, though another rush of heat heads to your pussy, clenching down on Sam’s fingers.

He hisses through gritted teeth, “Jesus, she’s tight.”

Humming sounds around your toyed nipple, “Mhm.” Dean’s words brush over your skin, “Perfect lil’ pussy, all for me.”

“Willing to share?” Sam asks, picking up his pace inside of you, dragging his fingers along your g-spot with each movement.

Dean snaps, “Don’t press your luck.”

Possessive bastard, you think, but moan sharply.

Sam’s tongue finds your clit once again, suckling at the small nub while his fingers stay busy. The combination unravels you quickly and your orgasm chases you in a matter of seconds.

Your walls clench around his fingers, and Sam mutters something under his breath. Dean slaps your tit this time.

“Can’t cum without permission, sweetheart,” he says. When you’re together it’s his rule that you always have his say-so, apparently it’s no different here.

You start to protest, but he stops you, “If you’re cumming at all, it’s with my permission, do you understand me?”

Sam nips at your clit to make you answer, “Y-yes, sir.”

You can feel Sam smiling on your pussy. He mumbles, “You trained her well, Dean.”

Dean pulls away from your chest, and his voice travels toward where Sam lies between your thighs. You assume it’s Dean slapping your upper thigh, close to where Sam’s head rests atop your cunt.

“Perfectly trained little bitch.”

Your orgasm is trailing behind, you gasp out, “Can I cum, sir?”

A beat passes.

“Cum.”

In an instant, you do. Your release blasts like a firework behind your eyes as you clench around Sam’s fingers, mewling softly while he pumps you through the shockwaves. Sam pulls himself from you, and you hear him shift to stand with his brother.

Dean pats your thigh, “Beautiful, isn’t she, Sammy?”

A low growl rumbles from Sam’s throat, “I want her, Dean. I want to feel her.”

The back-and-forth electrifies your nerves. You were Dean’s, but now that Sam was seemingly fighting him over you, there was no way of knowing what would be next.

“Not today, Sam.”

Not today?

Sam grunts in frustration, but concedes. You can hear him trek over to the head of the bed, close enough that you can feel a radiating heat from his, apparently, nude form. The bed dips just next to your head. You crane your neck toward him and are met with a warm, thick cock against your cheek.

You lay perfectly still, waiting.

Dean’s voice breaks the silence, “Order her, Sam. Poor thing gets too cock drunk to think. Tell her what to do.”

“Open,” Sam commands, lightly smacking your jaw. You open wide, sticking out your tongue as Dean had conditioned you to. “Tongue out and everything. She really is well-trained.”

The head of Dean’s cock eases through your folds, making you gasp around the head of Sam’s length. His voice is proud and sinister.

“Like I said - perfect. Little. Bitch.”

His cock presses into your entrance, the first substantial filling of the night. You whine around Sam’s dick, eagerly swirling your warm tongue around it and collecting salty precum along the way.

“And the best part of owning this pussy, Sam… is that I get to fill it. As often as I want.”

Relief showers over you at the mention. The thought of your boyfriend’s thick, hot cum spilling inside of you made you shiver with anticipation, tightening around his cock.

Dean lets out a low whistle, “Wish you could feel how tight she got just now. Sweet girl just loves it when I stuff her full, doesn’t she?”

You nod, bobbing your head along Sam’s considerable length, hollowing your cheeks to give him the same level of suction you do to his brother. Fuck, he was missing out on so, so much.

“Perfect mouth,” Sam comments, “you really got lucky, Dean.” Your boyfriend chuckles as his cock pushes deeper, stretching you out to fit him until he plunges in full hilt.

Sam shoves himself inward when you cry out, stuffing your mouth entirely full with his cock. The head crashes against the back of your throat, making you gag harshly around him. He grips your hair with both hands for leverage. The pace is brutal, and you’re silently thankful that Dean isn’t this ferocious with his own blowjobs.

“Gentle on her mouth, Sammy,” Dean scolds, his big-brother tone invading his words, “gotta take it slow.”

“Nah,” he dismisses, “I bet she can handle it.” Sam angles his hips and turns your head, twisting you to accommodate his girth. His cock plunges deeper into your throat from this angle, but to your surprise you do not gag this time. The thrusts are harsh but mildly painless.

Sam’s breathing grows more ragged by the second, while Dean happily sinks into your hungry cunt, filling you out with every glorious inch of his length.

“Turn her over,” Sam demands. Dean stills inside of you for a split second before he moves again. His hands find your hips and twist them around. Sam removes himself from your mouth to grant you some fresh air.

With their help, you’re on all fours between the boys. Dean at your back, Sam in the front, both with their cocks twitching at the slightest touch. Dean gives Sam a shit-eating grin as he slams his cock into you. Hard.

Sam springs into action when your mouth opens again in a cry. Your mouth is stuffed with his cock like before, but this angle is even better. You’re laid flatter for a perfect throat-fucking.

“There we go,” Sam murmurs, “that’s much better. Relax your throat, sweetheart.”

Against the new strain on your throat, you do as you’re instructed. Sam pushes himself further until your face is pressed into his abdomen.

Completely, and impossibly, full.

Dean marvels at Sam’s depth in your mouth, and gapes at the sight below him where his cock meets your cunt, stretched taught around his girth. Each moan and groan serves as more encouragement for Dean to pick up the pace.

His cock crashes through your constricting walls, striking against your cervix when he plunges deeper, deeper, and deeper into your aching cunt. Dean groans when you tighten around him, closing in on another orgasm. A free hand smacks your ass hard enough to leave a bruise.

“Cum,” Dean orders.

This one is harsher than the last, leaving you screaming around Sam’s cock, muffled and gagged by the thick head of him.

“Attagirl. You want Sammy to cum, too? Want him to fill you up?”

As much as you can muster, you nod. Sam smiles toward Dean - a wicked grin that says That’s right, I’m gonna fill your girl up before you can.

Dean glowers at his brother and thrusts faster, scowling the entire time as he urges his own orgasm to chase after him. With his competitive streak and the way you wrapped around him, he wasn’t far behind.

“Fuuuck,” groans Dean, his cock twitching inside your ravaged cunt.

Sam lets out a gasp as he shudders inside your mouth. His hips falter and he releases deep in your throat. Tears fall past your cheeks as you struggle for air, but your eyes roll back at the salty, savory taste of his cum.

And Dean isn’t far behind. He remains resilient when his orgasm reaches him - the thrusts don’t waver or lessen, but are more insistent. A groan rumbles from him as he finishes. The familiar warmth of his thick cum floods through your pussy, making you clench around his cock, eager to savor every last drop, as always.

“That’s it, babygirl, keep it inside.”

You tighten even when he leaves you, now left hollow and achey. Dean nods to Sam to pull out to let you breathe. The younger brother thumbs your bottom lip as you gasp.

You swallow Sam’s cum fully and thankfully, smiling blindly at him.

Dean lands a smack on your ass in congratulation, watching you clench your cunt into nothing, keeping his seed deep inside of you.

“Greedy girl. Don’t wanna waste any of it, do you?”

You shake your head with a smile, proud that you served them both to their desires.

Maybe not for Sam, but that was a different matter.

Dean leans forward to grab your blindfold, swiftly untying it and tossing it to the side. You slump to your side while you let your eyes adjust to the new light. The boys gently massage into your joints to ease them back to normal, though they’d surely be sore for hours, if not a day or two.

“You okay, baby?” Dean asks.

You pant softly to settle yourself, and smile, completely sated. Your words slur unintelligibly.

Sam laughs, “Fucked dumb, huh?”

“Just how she likes it.”

You pick what happens next! If you enjoyed, please help support my work by reblogging!

Happy Kinktober, you depraved lil’ things

[jinkieswouldyoulookatthis]

Anti-destiel Wank (sorry but I have to)

If you hardcore ship Destiel, please just scroll on by. Please.

Ok, I'm gonna get myself in trouble, I'm sure, but I gotta get this off my chest...

Destiel may be a perfectly fine ship,

but,

IT'S JUST A SHIP.

In the actual context of the show there IS NO ROMANTIC OR SEXUAL TENSION/RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN DEAN AND CAS.*

Full fucking stop.

Subtext can be interpreted in ANY WAY YOU WANT. It is subjective. You will find whatever you look for in it. Please stop waving subtext interpretations around as if they were objective facts, they aren't. Subtext, by its very definition, relies on implied meaning and understanding, this means it is a subjective interpretation of the media that varies from viewer to viewer. The inherent variations are what make it fanon/headcanon instead of canon.

If you see tension of that sort there and it makes you happy to postulate the what if, then go ahead, that is what fanon and head canon and fan fiction is all about. But if the fact that the tension you think you see isn't being addressed in actual canon makes you grumpy, maybe you need to take some of the fanatic out of your fanning. If you are beginning to think the show creators are actively trying to repress Dean's "true sexuality and feelings" because they are evil, you might need to consider that you've dug in too deep.

Because, like I ship wincest. Yeah, I said it. But I am aware that canon doesn't actually include any level of sexual or romantic (in the modern sense) relationship between Sam and Dean. Wincest is not canon.

Now, are Sam and Dean the real "love" story of the show? Yes, yes they are. That has always been 100% the entire point of Supernatural, the great love story of two brothers struggling to save the world together. It's about family and everything that means, but at its heart, it is about Sam and Dean WInchester. Not all kisses and cuddles and sex kind of love, but love nonetheless. Full stop.

Now, the fact that Destiel is such a popular ship is not surprising to me in the least. Jensen and Misha are two gorgeous guys who share a lot of chemistry on screen and off. And, it is canon that Cas loves Dean. That has been evident since Lazarus Rising (4x01) when Cas was introduced. Castiel's love of Dean Winchester has been his character's main motivation all along and culminated with Cas sacrificing himself to save Dean, after telling him that he loved him in Despair (15x18)

But Dean's main motivation has always been to watch out for his brother. And though Castiel became Dean's best friend, he still comes second to Sam. Nothing against Cas, he just isn't Sam.

So why are so many people so absolutely convinced that Destiel is so real within the context of the story?

Well, I'm pretty sure that it is the same reason that they are so opposed to the idea of wincest.

As we all know, incest is bad, mmmkay? Incest is probably one of the biggest, strongest, cultural taboos we have. So it makes perfect sense that the idea of two blood-related brothers having sexual or romantic feelings for each other is considered icky. It's so off putting that it is a complete no go for even fantasizing about for most people. And that's probably a good thing, tbh, incest should be taboo. But where does that taboo spring from? Why is it so deeply off limits? There are several reasons, but the two main ones are:

That incest can lead to inbreeding.

That incest too often involves molestation or rape of children.

Both of these are seriously bad enough that we all pretty much collectively agree to avoid incestuous relationships. But, do either of these two reasons really apply in the case of Sam and Dean?

The short answer is no. Primarily this is because they are fictional characters that are being played by unrelated actors. But to humor the objectors we'll look at it closer.

We can take the first one right off the table. As two cis men, neither of them is capable of becoming pregnant, so outside of the mpreg (male pregnancy) or gender bending subsets of fanfic tropes, this is not applicable.

The second reason only becomes an issue when talking about the characters earlier in their lives, pre-show or flashbacks. Weecest or teencest, or whatever, are things, but these typically have separate ship names for a reason, because even when dealing with fictional characters this squicks a lot of folks who are otherwise down with the wincest ship. So most content is tagged or labeled as its specific flavor, so anyone can find it or avoid it. But wincest that involves adult Sam and Dean (the specific pairing I'm referring to in this post) doesn't apply to the second reason listed above.

So there really is nothing morally wrong with Sam and Dean having sex with each other. I know that statement is going to bother a whole lot of people, but it is true. Just because something is taboo does not automatically make it morally wrong. Being gay used to be taboo in our culture, and is still taboo for way too many people, even though there is nothing morally wrong with homosexuality.

Now, I wasn't in the fandom back at the beginning of the show, but I've heard tell that the very first Sam/Dean fic was posted just a few hours after the pilot episode aired. A few hours, that's all it took for some highly motivated fan to type out a story where they were more than just brothers. The story is called Reunion. If you watch the pilot, even with your anti-incest goggles on, the chemistry between Jared and Jensen is palpable throughout. There is a reason the show lasted for 15 years, and that reason is that Sam and Dean just work on screen so well together. So if it only took one episode for that ship to be born, what did all the future destiel shippers do? Well I imagine they felt somewhat uncomfortable for the first 60 episodes.

Flash forward to season four and the introduction of Castiel. Finally there was another male character for fans squicked by the notion of sweet, sweet brother loving to focus on! Cas was clearly fixated on Dean more than Sam, which followed the plot since Cas had been instructed to rescue Dean from Hell. As it would turn out, the brothers were destined to be the meatsuits that Michael and Lucifer wore to the big prize fight to determine the fate of the world. Prepping Sam for Lucifer involved him consuming demon blood, which made most of the angelic host view him as an abomination, a factor that Cas had to learn to get past in his relationship with the younger brother. But Dean was ready to go right out of the box, no assembly required for Michael. Castiel, and many of his angelic brethren, as well as a lot of Demons, seem to be drawn to Dean in a way that they just aren't drawn to Sam. Is this fair? Hell no. But I mean, look at him! Jensen has sexual tension with literally everything he comes in contact with, people, food, his car, the man oozes sexual attraction. Don't get me wrong, Jared is a sexy fucking ball of sunshine, and our Sammy is a damned attractive man, but he tends to be more repressed and less openly sexual than his brother, so it is what it is.

Where was I going with this? That's a good question. I got a bit distracted, sorry. Oh right...

At its root, destiel is a reactive projection. There is undeniable tension between characters in the show. Since all of the main cast are male, that tension is highly homoerotic. The two main characters, who are undeniably emotionally enmeshed and co-dependent with each other (a very well established canon fact btw), happen to be blood-related brothers. Oh no! Where is all that tension coming from since we cannot admit or accept that it's coming from them? Ah ha! Here is a new male character that we like, yes, it is obviously coming from his interactions with one of the brothers, even though he wasn't in the first 60 episodes. Yes, it all makes perfect sense now, all that tension was merely foreshadowing.

I've read through all the destiel subtext posts. I've gone back and watched all the scenes they reference multiple times with the express purpose of finding destiel. I'm telling you it is just a fanon ship. Which is 100% fine and good, ship that ship, just stop declaring it more canon than canon, because it's not.

And if you don't like fictional incest, cool, cool, you don't have to. But the underlying sexual tension existed in the first 60 episodes prior to Misha being cast on the show, so it was coming from somewhere. And it'd be cooler if you learned how to scroll past people shipping wincest, like I'm sure you do for all the other weirdass, squicky shit that people post all over the internet. But if it makes your heart beat a little faster to imagine that Dean and Cas have eyesex but that Dean and Sam don't, that's fine. I think it's delusional because neither ship is actually canon and both are 100% A-Ok in fanon, and honestly Jensen doesn't seem to be able to control his eyes, which is not something anyone should feel bad about (it's fucking marvelous) but you do you.

*Castiel does love Dean. He confessed as much, but Dean did not reciprocate. What I am referencing is a mutual romance or attraction, which does not exist.

[howlingday]

Irish jaune au

Jaune is the same, except he's Irish, so he's barely eligible. And when a usra bites him, it dies of alcohol possession. Beacon discover his tolerance for alcohol when he chalinges the school to a drinking game for 10$ each. Back to back, he wins. Even beating qrow.

On the one hand, this could be seen as offensive. On the other hand, I know just the Irish character to use...

--------------------------------------------------

"I'm sure one day you'll learn to love it..."

Jaune: But he was wrong. I dinnae like it. Winchester, yer drunk. Piss-faced drunk. On power, authority, and influence. OZMA is supposed tae be an arm of violence, an ah'm just a man-killing meat cleaver. It's ma only power by which tae serve the people.

Jaune: Winchester, noo, ye've quit serving people. A' ye're serving is HER power. Eh? Isnae that right?

Jaune: ARCHKING CARDINAL?

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Jaune: Now what can I do for ya, Father Qrow O'm'ly'O'C'nel'O'C'rol'O'Rily'O'Bri'n'O'Sul'van.. Ah-who is also Italian.

Qrow: Tell-a me, Arc, what is your favorite thing to do?

Jaune: Spreading the word and eternal love of The Brothers at the many people of the world. Teaching peace and love for all.

Qrow: And-a killing-a Grimm?

Jaune: Oh, just try tae fuckin' stop me~!

Qrow: And what about... Oumists?

Jaune: Second verse, same as the first! Now put me on ae plane so Ah can put 'em in ae hearse~!

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Jaune: (In Glynda's face) HAHAHAHAHAHA! DID YE HEAR, NORA?! DID YE HEAR, REN?! With ae bleeding nose and ae veritable freak force 'afore her?!

Jaune: "Come and get me"? "Ah will fight ye"?

Jaune: GYEHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Nae mistaking it. She, this woman and a' with her...

Jaune: ...ARE OOR SWORNEST ENEMIES! OOR ARCHENEMIES!

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Goodwitch: (Via scroll) JUMP UP YOUR OWN ASS AND DIE!. (Hangs up)

Ruby: (Sighs, Slumps) Beacon... We have no~ problems!

Jaune: (Kicks in the door) RRGH!

Ruby: Okay, dude, I need, like, a minute or so before I'm-

Jaune: (Punches Ruby to the floor)

Ruby: NEVERMIND, WE'RE BACK IN BUSINESS!

Weiss: I've got him-!

Jaune: (Shield bashes her over the counter)

Weiss: (Dazed, Shaking)

Ruby: Ugh! Great! You triggered her! Gonna be all day with this...

Jaune: The Brothers have handed down ae blessing to ye filthy heathens as ae sign of good will... A small private Ozian jet. Now, if ye would be so very divinely-like tae ship yer sawry pale ass oot! (Points) And take yer dainty, white hoor with ye! And the cat-boy!

Blake: Donc quai?

Ruby: Man, I don't know what I find funnier: The Church of the Brothers strong-arming you into helping us, or the fact that you obviously haven't seen what I did to the statue of Big Bois~!

Jaune: ...

Jaune: (Screams at the Brother statues now graffiti'd with "INCEST IS WINCEST" and "BROTHERLY LOVE IS REAL LOVE")

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Ruby: And so, you've broken through the siege and now stand face to face with me. Good... Good... Exactly what I'd expect from Ozma. From Jaune Arc.

Jaune: (Standing with a broken arm)

Ruby: Oh? It seems you didn't make it through unscathed.

Jaune: SO WHAT ABOOT IT, VAMPIRE?! (Biting sleeve, Pulls up) Ma arm's just torn up is a'. Quit yer blasted boastin' and come. COME AT ME. Hurry, HURRY!

[ardentpoop]

If you're still doing the opinions thing. What are your thoughts on the take that Sam is just as bad as or even worse than Dean in terms of how possessive they are over each other?

~~Not my personal opinion, just a comparison I saw on a wincest blog that I didn't agree with~~

total garbage. also unfortunately a very common bad take. the narrative likes to go “heehee hoohoo they are just as bad as one another” in the late seasons based on Extremely Questionable or even outright fabricated evidence and I love that the fans who are predisposed to this view of the brothers eat it the fuck up even tho it’s full of giant holes.

s10 is the most egregious example of this. not gonna get into it in depth rn bc it’s tiring but truly just grit your teeth and rewatch s10 while paying attention to what dean is telling the audience about sam and think about whether you actually believe him based on what we’ve seen sam do in s10 and previous seasons. there could not be a more screamingly obvious red flag than dean describing sam working with charlie on a cure for the mark of cain as “when you bullied charlie into getting herself killed.”

I diverted this away from “possessiveness” and into general Harmful Behavior bc it is their overall patterns of behavior that the narrative itself is dishonest about to the viewer. but to be extra clear - there is no world in which sam could be equally or more “possessive” over dean than dean is over sam because sam is not entitled to dean’s body and dean’s life in the way that dean is to sam’s. and furthermore, because sam is so accustomed to having his power of choice stripped away while being told that it’s what’s Best For Him, when he has the option of enforcing another character’s right to choose (usually a child or a woman or other vulnerable person) he almost always makes a point of explaining to them that the choice is theirs. see his interactions with jesse (s5), claire, and jack for very clear examples of this.

my personal favorite parallel however is what dean did to sam with the panic room in s4 vs dean’s comparatively brief and non-dehumanizing experience with the panic room when he was first on the verge of saying yes to michael in s5. samndean’s conversations in “point of no return” are so crucial to understanding their series-spanning power imbalance. like come on. dean’s “I’d let you rot in here. hell, I have let you rot in here.” followed by sam’s “I guess I’m not that smart.”

shouldn’t need to spell it out any clearer than that!!!!

[pagannatural]

1.22

Devil’s Trap

-Dean walks away from Meg and Sam is like “are you okay?” It’s just so cute how Sam shows his care for Dean by paying close attention to him like this

-Dean says he always wanted to be a fireman when he grew up and Sam goes “you never told me that!” in this cute little brother way like he can’t believe Dean would keep something like that from him.

I feel like we as a society (by which I mean the wincest posts that show up on my dash) moved on too quickly from fireman Dean. Dean would be a fantastic fucking fireman. He could put “rescued my perfect sweet-eyed baby brother from three burning buildings” on his resume. He really sees no value in anything that he can’t relate back to Sam, does he?

-The first time Dean knowingly kills someone it’s to save Sam. A love that corrupts etc

Images that feel both illegal and religious

The way Sam melts into Dean completely, mouth open, eyes shut.

Sam says softly “you saved my life back there” which is inherently romantic. Dean tells Sam “For you or dad the things I’m willing to do or kill…it scares me sometimes.” His love for Sam scares him sometimes. Dean also saved Sam in spite of his dad’s disapproval of him using the Colt.

-Dean to possessed John: “He wouldn’t be proud of me… you’re not my dad.” Yikes, condolences. Poor Dean

-Sam walks into the room to find Dean aiming the colt at John and goes “Dean!” right as Dean tells him to stay back. I have a feeling if it had been John aiming a gun at Dean, Sam still would’ve gone “Dean!” and Dean would’ve told him to stay back, and if it were either of them aiming a gun at Sam, Sam still would’ve gone “Dean!” and Dean would’ve told him to stay back. If something’s not right Sam’s gonna yell “Dean!” and Dean’s gonna tell Sam to stay back.

Dean tells Sam John is possessed.

Sam asks how do you know, because Sam likes to be informed, and Dean just says “he’s different.”

That’s enough for Sam. He GETS BEHIND DEAN. This is the underrated samdean moment of all time for me. He doesn’t even hesitate. He tested John with holy water himself, but he knows that Dean knows John well, and he trusts Dean. He said last episode that Dean is the one person he can always count on. And he doesn’t just go to his side, he stands close behind him so that Dean can protect him.

-The demon taunts Dean by saying his family doesn’t need him

and the camera cuts to Sam who’s like. He doesn’t think I need him? 🥺

-Sam shoots their possessed dad in the thigh and immediately runs to kneel by Dean and worry over him. Dean asks Sam to go check on John, and Sam makes a face like What the fuck? I’m busy checking on you

Sam complies and stands over John to check on him. It’s just so different from his concern for Dean. Like, that’s his dad that he just maimed, lying on the floor not moving, and 110% of Sam’s concern is directed at Dean. It’s not a competition, but if it were, Dean would win.

-John tells Sam “shoot me” but Dean tells him not to, so of course he listens to Dean.

John is disappointed in Sam because “killing this demon comes first. Before me, before everything.” Sam looks at Dean in the rearview mirror and says “no sir, not before everything.” John is the one that Sam chose not to kill when he had the chance to kill the demon, and yet it’s Dean he’s thinking about when John says this. Nothing comes before Dean. A big part of Sam’s choice not to shoot when his dad was possessed was not being able to hurt Dean like that, knowing that Dean would rather have John alive than the demon dead. I honestly think he would’ve pulled the trigger if Dean told him to.

It’s a beautiful resolution to their fight last episode when Dean told Sam that he is more important to him than killing the demon. They’re explicitly each other’s top priorities by this last scene.

[babyboywinchester]

Nvm I didn't know you were gonna refer me to one of the most vile bullies in fandom. I also can't believe what terminally online speak I'm hearing. Queerbaiting, really? He does something fans enjoy and continues doing it, I don't see the harm. As for his personal sexuality, that is private and clearly isn't so black and white when you look at what he's said. I don't understand the nitpicking. I agree re the Js though. I'm just genuinely bummed by how antagonistic fandom gets

@nancylou444 has never been vile or a bully to me and anything I’ve seen of hers has been defending other wincest shippers or going toe to toe with terminally brain dead destihellers. Lmao… terminally online? I’m a working and married mother of two. I can assure you I’m not “terminally online”. That’s the EXACT phrase he and the hellers have used when referring to how Destiel has got such a shit go of things so why are you attacking me over a phrase such as that when I am just using literally the same term these blowhards use?

Listen, dude, if you don’t like what I post or who I associate with or the opinions I have then go somewhere else… I don’t know what else to tell you.

He made his sexuality a topic of public discussion when he PUBLICLY insinuated he was bi, had to PUBLICLY retract said statement, and then had to PUBLICLY come out as straight. So, do not get onto me about it being a “private” matter… he did it in the public sphere and therefore it is open to ridicule. If you don’t want those things talked about then you… don’t talk about them. Funny how that works…

Everyone is capable of making mistakes, doing bad things, and growing. Misha has shown, to me, no growth and continually doubles down on his questionable and creepy behavior. He does charity? Cool good for him. Neat. He campaigns for Ukraine? Also a great cause. He still makes overtly sexual comments about his costars about a fetishized gay ship that Jensen himself has repeatedly said he finds no basis for and then gets attacked when he points out that it’s not canon, not how he played the character, and it’s not how the character was written. I do not like Misha. I find his pandering, entitlement, “look at me I do good things I’m a good guy” attitude to be abhorrent and distasteful.

I also do not like how vile fandom can get, but luckily I’m a wincestie and a lover of both brothers with a Sam leaning attitude… so, I’m surrounded by great mutuals and like minded people who I’ve went out of my way to cultivate an online experience with and so generally my online experience has been very positive.

I suggest you do the same and maybe not come to my blog, especially not on anon if you’re not going to have the courage to face me, if I am not your cup of tea. No one is forcing you to view my opinions and content. You alone have the power to curate your own online experience. If you want to come off anon and talk so be it, but the next ask sent on anon will just be deleted because I’m not going to continue you this conversation especially if you’re accusing me of being “terminally online” for using a well-used phrase outside of online life… like seriously grow up.

Have a wonderful day. Godspeed.

[ro-sham-no]

Sam fucked up.

Dean had always teased him for being a try-hard at school (with a secretly proud smile he thought Sam couldn’t see or wouldn’t notice, but oh, Sam noticed). He’d tease Sam, saying it would bite him in the ass one day, and now, at Stanford, it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq class he actually liked had given him extra work. It's not a big deal, not really, just reading out his stupid, gay-ass prose about his big brother in front of a crowd of people, all to get out of taking a final... Dean was across the country, so what could go wrong?

cw: wincest, referenced underage sex (barely), questionable prose lol

includes excerpts from "sweetness" - stephen dunn

“I’m telling you, man, they’re gonna expect more from you ‘cause you’re putting in all this extra effort.”

Dean was speaking in that slow, crooning voice that he always got when they were alone together in the quiet, like he was afraid to break the silence but still wanted to fill up Sam’s head with the sound of his voice so bad that he couldn’t stop himself. As if the way he was smoothing his hand up and down the breadth of Sam’s bare ribs and stomach - all palming and grabby, groping at Sam like he owned him - as if that didn’t already nail Sam’s focus and affection to the cross of their shared devotion. As if he needed to do anything at all, other than exist, to completely own Sam from the inside out.

Sam shook himself out of his trance to respond, huffing that scoff-laugh that only little brothers manage to pull off, reaching up to trap Dean’s hand against Sam’s stomach, splayed and possessive but finally stilled so Sam could actually think for a second. But before he could come up with a counter, Dean continued, sweet and slow in his ear, like syrupy molasses that’s just warm enough to drip and run down the spoon, 

“I swear, if we stayed in one place for longer than it takes Dad to fuckin’ blink, they’d have you up to your ears in extra work by now.”

Sam hummed at that, all smug younger brother proving a point, “Well I guess it doesn’t matter then, huh, Dean? ‘s not like the old man’s that old, his blinks aren’t slowing down anytime soon,” said with a finality that shut Dean up, finally granting Sam some goddamn peace as they basked in the feel of each other’s bed-warmed skin.

And that was that. Still, they rehashed it a few times, here and there whenever it got brought up.

Sam flicked Dean’s hand off his shoulder because, “I need to finish my homework, Dean. There’s a quiz on it tomorrow,” providing the perfect opportunity for Dean to bring up that old argument once again. Calling him a try-hard and a teacher’s pet, distracting him enough to bully him into their bed, away from his homework, and suddenly enveloped in the warm arms of his older brother - devious bastard that he was, dammit. 

Sam always got 100s on those quizzes, anyway. But that didn’t mean he didn’t enjoy the chase, the thrill of seeing Dean be jealous of a piece of fucking paper and a pen before Sam caved and they fell together oh-so-sweetly.

But that was then, when the metaphorical speed of Dad’s blinks still kept them flitting from place to place. Now, Sam had already been in this place for 9 months, consecutively, and he was in for at least another 3.25 years. Four years he would be here, and that’s where Sam fucked up, forgetting his “wise” older brother’s warning (because he’s not here to remind me), and it had finally happened.

Betrayal of all betrayals, the professor of the only prereq that he actually liked, Dr. Morris, had given him extra work. All because,

“This is really something special, Sam! I really think people deserve to hear it.” She saw Sam begin to protest but cut him off, continuing, “From the author’s mouth, don’t give me that. That’s you, in case you’ve conveniently forgotten. C’mon, the literary arts event is next week and they’ve been asking me to fill an inspired composition spot. I think this is the perfect work to fit right in, with the way you’ve expanded on Dunn’s poem, interpreting meaning from it and making it your own- just, Sam, I seriously want you to consider presenting it.”

“It” was an assignment to write a piece about or inspired by one of the poems Dr. Morris had covered in class recently. One of them had tugged at Sam’s recently-shredded heartstrings, and so he wrote something inspired by it - so sue him if he wrote a little prose, alright? But, Christ, it was soft and mushy and it was horrifically revealing. But he didn’t have time to redo it, so this was what he was stuck with.

Damn, she’s really trying to sell this, Sam thought with a sigh. 

Once again, though, his professor cut him off, this time with a conspiratorial look on her face, “Besides, a little birdy told me that the final for this class might be optional if you participate in the event…” 

Well, that’s just diabolical.

Sam pinched his nose with yet another sigh, arms clutched around his notebook, which conveniently contained the exact literary “work” Dr. Morris had been raving about for the last ten minutes. All Sam had wanted to do was to make sure that it fit what she was expecting for the homework prompt before he turned it in, and then she’d trapped him.

He really did hate taking tests for this class, too, and she knew that. UGH.

“Fine, Dr. Morris, you win! But that little birdy better be tellin’ the truth or another little birdy is so gonna write the meanest course review this school has ever seen, I swear to god,” he pointed his finger at her accusingly, eyebrows raised in faux intimidation.

She laughed along with him at his empty threat, holding up her hands in mock surrender with a gasp, “No, not an angry student review! What about my career?” 

She sobered a little, “The birdy is telling the truth, Sam, I promise. You know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Sam nodded with a rueful smile, “I know. Thank you, Dr. Morris, I’m uh- well, I’m glad you liked it.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

-

It was worse. So, so much worse. God, Sam fucked up, colossally.

Somehow, his friends had gotten wind of his little performance - something about a poster with his name on it? (Damn you, Dr. Morris!) - and now Sam was about to go on stage and make a fool of himself in front of both liberal arts and now STEM majors alike. Four STEM majors, specifically, his “friends,” and he was never going to hear the end of it after this. 

I’m not even out to these people, what was I thinking? They’re gonna know, now. Sure hope they’re fuckin’ cool with it.

And, beyond that, he’d only read through the piece a total of two times without crying like a fucking baby. Reduced to hiccupping sobs over the stupid poem, and over his stupid feelings laid bare on the page, and over his stupid fucking brother that he’d basically broken up with when he came here like the incestuous freak that he was, and-

Goddammit.

Sam pinched viciously at his thigh through his pocket to stop his eyes from prickling.

This is gonna be a disaster.

But the final would be worse, Sam was sure, and he didn’t want to disappoint Dr. Morris - like the total sucker that he was - so he was gonna man up and do this thing.

The person on stage before him finished up their piece and, is the crowd seriously fucking snapping? Jesus Christ, these people are pretentious. Thankfully, pretentious or not, the event wasn’t that formal. They were just outside on a small stage, with standing and sitting room in front of it. Casual. Easy.

Yeah, right.

Still, Sam steeled himself and stepped out onto the stage as prompted, calmly raising the height of the mic stand while the event coordinator introduced him to the audience, “Thank you for that wonderful reading. Now stepping on stage is Sam Winchester, with a literary reading of his work, inspired by the poem “Sweetness” by Stephen Dunn.”

Sam cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly, “Ah, thank you, for that introduction. So… this is just a piece I wrote based on that poem, which uses the term “sweetness” to describe more than just sensation - to me, it describes a feeling, an emotion, and even a person. That’s something that really struck me, and is the basis of what you’re about to hear.”

While he was speaking, he scanned the crowd and- yep, there were his friends, waving and cheesing so hard it made his own mouth twitch a little in response, amused at their amusement. Still, there was this odd feeling, almost like… nevermind.

He cleared his throat again, purposefully this time, and began, “Often, a sweetness comes and changes nothing in the world, except the way we stumble through it. Our sweetness, the one we make between us, changes the world - my world -  because of the way you envelop me entirely. The sweetness between us changes the world, shrinks it down to the size of your mouth, to the size of your hands.”

Images flash in Sam’s mind: silver ring; cupid’s bow; black bracelets on twin right-wrists, like their own secret wedding bands.

“But the world is no smaller for it, even though it’s shrunk to fit the shape of your body. 

It’s still ever-expansive, always with something new to explore. New gasps to wring out from the valley of your mouth. New ways to bruise and mar the landscape of your skin, changing its terrane to map out the topography of our love, our sweetness, and the way it blisters between us… 

Staining, always staining.”

Golden skin that’s littered with scratches, hickies marring it in impossible places, and freckles that reach out to Sam like starlight.

“Some days you believe it stains us down to the soul level. Those are the days I spend sick with heartbreak because those are the days you won’t touch me. Those are the days you won’t touch me, when you can’t even bear to look at me, littered as I always am (and how I always want to be) with the stains of our shared, world-changing sweetness. You see the stains on those days and, instead of cherishing them the way I would bid you to, you are sickened by them.”

A memory, now,

That beloved cupid’s bow stretched out in a self-deprecating sneer, “This is wrong, Sam! God, look at what I’ve done to you, I should be fucking locked up. You don’t even want this, you can’t!”

“Even worse, you’re saddened by them, the stains that I cherish, convincing yourself that you’ve doomed me by them. On those days, you believe you’ve doomed me to an eternity of fire and brimstone, even though the only God either of us truly believes in takes on the form of the finger-shaped bruises you leave on my thighs and the teeth-sized scars I’ve left in your skin.”

The stains, god, the stains: tear tracks on freckled cheeks, red and puffy eyes so unused to crying, bloody knuckles from losing to brick walls.

Sam’s eyes prickled. One hand went from the podium to his pocket and gouged its nails into flesh, welts forming on top of already-present bruises.

He cleared his throat again, blinking harshly, “But even if that were true, that you have doomed me, my love, then please: let me be doomed. The truth is that I am doomed. I am condemned by the shade of your eyes, by the strong elegance of your wrists, and the way your head tilts when you focus that I’ve never told you about.

I am doomed by the sinuous-sinful curve of your lips and your waist, by the crinkles caused by your breathtaking smile, and by the shade of reddish-orange on your teeth when you consume me. I am stained by these things, and for that, I am doomed.”

Sam's fingernails were digging into his skin through his pocket, but he still had to pause to sniffle off to the side, hopefully out of the range of the microphone. But the movement of his head let his peripherals sweep over the crowd and, there- the feeling from before was back, or maybe it was just stronger, now, never having left. 

The feeling that he was being watched, but not just by anyone. It was a feeling he’d memorized during late nights with the lights out, not seeing but nevertheless knowing that Dean was watching him, staring at him, in the dark. And that’s what it felt like, now, but that’s impossible… right?

He continued, “I am stained by our sweetness, and so are you. We are stained and left wanting, always wanting, because there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient to leave us sated, never to be needed again. For that, there is no sweetness that’s ever sufficient, because it comes as if on a loan, ripped away at a moment’s notice. Re-possessed with an interest rate that leaves us desolate and bereft.”

His eyes were tearing up actively by then, and he knew it, but he couldn’t spare the thought to worry about it. Not while he was overwhelmed with DeanDeanDean, trying so desperately to avoid looking in that corner but- the figure ducked behind a group of people stuck close together, and wasn’t that just telling? Telling, but also heartbreaking, because,

He won’t answer a fucking phone call, but he’ll haul ass across the country in two days to come see me read some half-assed prose?

Sam regularly tracked Dean’s phone, see, so he knew where he was two days ago: middle-of-nowhere Indiana. How the hell he had heard about Sam’s current predicament? Sam couldn’t even begin to guess. But he’d learned of it, somehow, and had driven thirty-four out of the last forty-eight hours to get here and watch Sam fall apart on a sound stage, California-tanned cheeks lit up in the golden evening light and soon to be glistening with tears that he couldn’t seem to stop from forming.

There’s no way he doesn’t know this is about him. Fuck. It’s Dean, he’s here, and he’s hearing me turn whatever the fuck we had together into this flowery, perfume-tinted crap. Fuck.

He came to see me. He’s here. Fuck.

Sam searched for Dean in the crowd without a care for the rest of his audience, voice coming out strong and clear as he spoke directly to him, suddenly bold,

“But the loan lender is you, and I, the borrower, the loan holder. The interest rate is your guilt, entwined with your ever-infuriating sense of righteousness, and you rip away the loaned-out sweetness when it starts to make too much sense. 

When the sweetness starts to come too easily for your self-flagellating tastes, that’s when my payments are no longer sufficient. You rip away our sweetness and make it return to its supposedly dark source, the one you conjure up for it in your mind.”

Sam blinked tears out of his eyes and they rolled down his cheeks, but just he didn’t care. 

Dean stood frozen, mouth open and tears of his own making his eyes turn that same puffy shade of pink that it always did. His left hand was rubbing over his bracelet, on the same wrist as always, mirroring the one on Sam’s own wrist. Unsubtly, Sam reached over to shrug up his sleeve and reveal the black bracelet he also wore.

More glimpses of memories, Right hand reaching out to right hand, clasping awkwardly between them but it felt right, so right, to see the claim they’d put on each other stated so loudly, stark black lines so obvious across their wrists.

Dean’s golden amulet gleaming in the light, dragging across Sam’s chest as Dean stayed above him, so deep inside Sam that he swore he could taste it. He shivered at the cold touch of the metal, but all he could feel was warm.

They were holding each other’s gaze, now, and Sam’s face was twisting up as he tried desperately to choke out the next words, tried to reach out with his brain waves to shove them into Dean’s own skull, to make him understand,

“But-” he sniffled again, into the mic this time, “But as for me, in the end, I don’t care where our sweetness has been, within the depths of your mind. I don’t care what bitter road it’s had to travel, through the muck and the mire of your unfounded shame, your self-made sorrows and imaginary transgressions.”

Sam was one step away from weeping at that point, voice strangled and cracking intermittently as it rose in pitch, tears streaming all ugly down his reddened face, roughly scrubbed away by a stray hand. This was the most direct Sam had ever been with Dean, a lifetime of silent looks and unspoken words suddenly torn wide open; his ugly, accusatory feelings laid bare, but mixed in with forgiveness, and with yearning for a reunion that Sam knew was never going to happen. 

It was exhilarating. It was terrifying.

Dean looked gutted, and it twisted up Sam’s own insides even more in response. He was clutching his bracelet-ed wrist tightly to his stomach, twisting the strands of it between his fingers in an uncharacteristic show of nerves. His brow was furrowed and his mouth was shaped with that familiar, guilt-ridden sadness, the set of his shoulders belying his age, making his 22-years-young appear suddenly ancient.

All the responsibility and burdens of a brother, a boyfriend, and a parent- a mother, wrapped up onto one person’s shoulders. Sam could only imagine how heavy it was. 

“Because oh, my sweetness - and that is what you are, what you have been this whole time - when the sweetness finally returns, when you have come back to me, I don’t care how long I’ve been in its absence, or rather in your absence.”

Sam could just barely make out the tempo of the tears streaming down Dean’s face as they fell, though he wasn’t sure if he could actually see them, or if he just knew the rhythm of Dean’s anguish better than his own heartbeat. 

Dean was a boy full of a sadness that was forced to stagnate, forced to fester and rot inside him, never to be allowed out. The rot was pouring down his face from where he stood in the crowd. Sam thought he’d never looked more beautiful than how he looked right now, back in Sam’s life after the longest time they’d ever spent apart.

“I don’t care what bitter road you’ve traveled to come back so far, to taste so good. It’s okay, it’s alright! Please, my love: lower your hackles, you’re on that bitter road no longer. It’s okay, and I don’t care, I’ve never cared, because in the end you come back, and for all of your travels, you never fail to taste so, so good.”

Sam fell silent and stepped back from the mic, smiling that sheepishly awkward, too-dimpled smile of acknowledgement and faux-gratitude to the crowd to signify his conclusion, never quite taking his eyes off Dean even as the crowd hesitantly-to-enthusiastically applauded his work.

Then Sam blinked, and Dean was gone.

[zmediaoutlet]

Happy WW! 💜

Do you have a pet headcanon that is consistent in your interpretations of wincest, that isn't necessarily explored in canon?

hello, and a happy wincest wednesday to you and yours <3

This is a ponderer! Especially because I try to lift from canon as much as I can, lol. Like I was gonna say our running joke about Dean reading mommy blogs, except -- whoops, that's canon, he does read mommy blogs.

Maybe I'll say, since I literally have sat here for fifteen minutes thinking and can't come up with a better answer -- the way that Dean really, really resents his parents, and yet of course also loves them, and feels a massive sense of obligation to them and to what he imagines they would expect of him and at the same time has this nagging sense of 'fuck you two, you did this to us.' Which I know does come up in the show, but it was kind of depending on the writer and moment -- whether Dean's insisting his dad was the best dad to ever dad, or whether he was telling Mary that he hates and loves her and then it ends in that doofy hug scene. Eeesh. I really hate that scene, haha.

But! The reason I bring it up is that this multifaceted indefinable mass of Feelings about the parents necessarily hovers over how the wincest starts and goes on, and that tangle of FAMILY can't be extracted from how Sam and Dean lay in a bed beside each other. That resentment-but-devotion is such an integral part of how Dean thinks about himself, too -- that he's failing to live up to an ideal, and at the same time is better than the generation that came before, and yet he can't think about it that way because without the pedestal of expectations how can he even define who he is, and yet how dare they expect this much -- and so on, and so on. And then what does that mean when he reaches across a few inches of mattress and touches Sam's big sleeping body and Sam grunts and it makes Dean's whole body relax, even as he's rolling his eyes? How does that integrate with who Dean Winchester, Son of John and Mary, is meant to be?

That stuff. I guess I think about that.

[samofmine]

Prompt: This is how Sam Winchester handles the end of the world.

make it wincest if you like 💕

oh, yes. love that. thank you for this prompt <3

This is how I think Sam handles the end of the world. (and yes I made it wincest, actually more like gencest/weirdcest)

-

Sam has been through enough ends of the world to have an entire routine prepared for it. When he feels the day is near, he gets started.

Most of the things he does is pretty simple. It's the simplicity of things he has no time to focus on, he figures. His day to day life is very much all booked with bigger pictures.

So, this is what he does: he looks at the sky and counts a few more stars than he’s used to. He buys the expensive beer he likes and doesn’t bat an eye when Dean teases him about it. He allows himself a few minutes without worrying about what’s going on. He goes out to have a walk in the morning and breathes in the cold air and keeps it in his lungs for a second longer.

And, he watches dean. A lot. Well, more than usual, which is more than a lot already.

He tries not to miss a single movement and makes sure to smile at him often. Most importantly, he makes sure he's not leaving anything unsaid.

When it first started, Dean would freak out every time, wondering if sam hit his head again or something, but he’s used to it now. He even indulges Sam once in a while.

Sam says things like, “You look good after you take a shower. We should shower together like we used to.” and Dean will just raise his eyebrows and smirks teasingly, asking “You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little brother?” like Sam’s joking or something.

He’s not, though. The thing is, he doesn't see why he should have any filter when everything is doomed to end soon.

In all the ends of the world he's been through, he's never been able to find anything or anyone he would miss more than Dean. He's never found a reason why he should be sad about dying, other than the fact that dying would be to the same as leaving Dean. Even the promise of a heaven together isn’t enough to make him any less insane, even if it’s just about the minutes after he drops dead and loses Dean from his sight, not knowing where he’s going or when they’ll meet again.

He knows if he could keep Dean alive somehow, he wouldn't care about the end of the world. if Dean's alive, so would he be. Dean would find a way. They would find a way back to each other, always. Sam knows this now. If there’s anything that lasts forever, anything that survives death, destruction, the end of the fucking world… This is it. This feeling. Whatever it is that they have.

So, Sam tells Dean one night, drunk on his expensive beer and almost asleep “I feel like we’re never gonna end.”

And Dean looks at him like he always does. “We’re always gonna be us even if there’s nothing.”, he continues.

“You’re damn right.” Dean smiles, also half drunk on Sam’s beer, the idiot, “You’re not getting rid of me, ever.”

Sam laughs at that because oh, how many times he wished that he could. But now, this is the one solid truth he bases himself on. He can’t get rid of Dean. He wouldn’t, even if Dean tried to let him.

Of course, things might end. Things will end. Soon.

But this feeling, this magnetism, this need and this yearning and the itch on his skin to stay close and to see and to know and to touch, this nameless, monstruous thing inside of him that he leaned how to cherish like a vital organ, isn’t going anywhere.

And he makes sure of making Dean understand that.

“I fuckin’ love you.” He mumbles, “Idiot.”

He falls asleep with Dean’s laughter, loud next to him.

[wincestdailyheadcanons]

Wincest Unhinged #4 Bobby hadnt told Dean how bad Sam really was after the hounds. He doesn't tell Dean  Sam stayed awake for 4 days straight meticulously stitching Deans torn flesh back together, doesn't mention that he talked Sam out of going to the neighbors and asking for donations.

Thank God he asked Sam what kind of donations he was looking for, because Sam looked at him, eyes dark, cold, and so very empty that Bobby wondered if he was possessed, and said with an eerie calmness; "His organs are shredded, he needs new ones."

Bobby drugged Sam's food that night, convincing him that Dean would be upset if Sam didn't take care of himself.

Sam ate a peanut butter sandwich with one hand, and looked through one of the books he had dug up with the other, and eventually, passed out.

Bobby knew Sam was going to be pissed, and Sam could hate him for the rest of his life, but he was doing what was best. While Sam slept, Bobby prepared the funeral pyre, the salt, everything. He had to be very careful to move Dean's body, Sam had been sleeping with it, curled protectively around his brother's decomposing shell. Bobby had to hold his breath to keep from gagging.

He hoped he had given Sam enough medication to keep him asleep. He hadn't.

The moment Bobby tried to move Sam's hand away from Deans shoulder, he found himself fighting back the instinct to yell when he saw Deans skin slip off his body like a piece of dried leather and fall to the bed. He felt something press against his head, and heard the click of a gun.

"Fuck are you doing?" Sam asked as if he was inquiring about the forecast.

Bobby raised his hands in surrender; "Son, you gotta let him go, come on, you know Dean w-"

Sam pulled the trigger. Bobby felt his heart drop, unsure if the gun was empty, or if by dumb luck, had jammed.

"Dont tell me what Dean would want, he would want to be here, and no one is taking him from me."

 Bobby gave a small nod; "Okay, Sam. I'm…I'm just gonna go hit the books again, okay?"

"That's fine. Let me know if you find anything."

Sam came downstairs an hour later when Bobby called for him, telling him about a Shaman in Louisiana. Sam listened intently, taking notes.

"I'm going to take your truck." Sam told him. "I cant have Dean sitting in the backseat, too many people might see him."

No way in hell this Shaman thing was going to work, he was sending Sam on a wild goose chase and he knew it, but there was no way Bobby was going to let Sam put Dean's body in a cooler and haul it across the country.

"How about we bury his body?" Bobby suggested, and was pretty sure Sam was going to make sure the gun worked properly this time based on the look he gave.

"I can make a casket with a spell that will keep his body safe." He lied. "We just gotta get dirt from the location where he died, we can put him somewhere private where I can put up warding, then you can come back for the Impala.

Sam thought for a moment, fingers fidgeting with Deans amulet, glancing upstairs where Dean was, and then to Bobbys relief, nodded. "I'll go pack. we'll head out in the morning."

At sunrise Sam carried Dean out to the truck and gently placed Deans body in the casket Bobby had prepared, the wood littered with carved runes and different languages. Bobby pretended not to see Sam lean down and kiss his brother's lips ignoring the orange fluid leaking from his mouth, before promising; "I'm gonna come back for you."

[captain039]

White picket fence.

Wincest x reader

Sam alpha

Dean alpha/omega

Reader omega

Warnings: Incest, AOB, scenting, nesting, harassment, poly couple

NO HATE PLEASE, DONT LIKE IT DONT READ

Finding the bunker was the next best thing, a place to go back too, a bed of your own. Well this bed was a little dusty and old, not really comfortable either.

“Hey” you glanced to Dean who had knocked on your door.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“Wanna go shopping?” He grinned and you frowned suspiciously but nodded and followed him.

“Sammy!” He yelled finding him at the table reading.

“We’re heading out” he said and Sam frowned and you shrugged.

“Um, ok” Sam just nodded and you went to him. You leant down and Sam smiled a bit giving you a soft kiss.

“Be safe” he said and you nodded going to Dean who grinned.

“Bye” he said to Sam before leaving.

“Where are we going? Please tell me where not buying an arsenal” you groaned.

“Nope” he had this grin that wouldn’t leave, he was up to something.

“Dean” you huffed.

“Furniture shopping!” He said and you raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh come your beds crusty man” he icked and you made a ‘fair’ face.

“Besides the place could use some décor” he smiled.

“Whatever you say” you said.

Dean rented a trailer first before heading to whatever furniture store was close.

“How are we paying for this?” You whispered to him.

“Credit cards” he smirked perking up as he saw the bedding.

“Oh boy” you muttered.

“This one?” Dean laid down sighing contently as you laid by him.

“Oh yeah” you hummed closing your eyes.

“Do you two need assistance?” You jumped hearing the sales woman.

“Yes” Dean grinned and stood as did you.

“We would like three of these in a queen” he smirked at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Alright then, did you want to keep browsing? Bed frames or anything?” She asked smiling.

“Also yes” Dean nodded already having his eyes on something.

“And he’s gone” you said.

“New house?” The sales woman asked.

“Yeah” you chuckled, if that’s what you want to call a secret underground bunker.

“He seems overly happy doing this” she commented.

“Yeah I don’t know” you shrugged. He waved you over and you excused yourself.

“So there’s black, white and oak in this, it’s simple, cheap and nice” he said.

“One of each colour?” You asked.

“I’ll have white, Sammy will have black and you can have oak” you said.

“Read my mind” he said and you smiled. You wandered off while Dean talked to the sales woman. You looked at appliances, a new microwave wouldn’t hurt.

“New house?” You frowned at the words. You glanced to the alpha who gave a smile.

“Oh yeah” you nodded awkwardly going back to checking prices.

“Yeah me too, thought it was time to set up you know?” He stepped closer, a little too close.

“Yeah it’s nice” you shrugged stepping away.

“Are you in your own?” He asked and before you were about to back away and speak you ran into someone. You gulped a bit knowing Deans figure and scent.

“No she’s not” Dean said, scent defensive and sour. The other alpha held his hands up and left and you sighed sagging a bit against him.

“Ok?” He asked and you nodded not used to people talking to you like that. He rubbed your arms in comfort before you turned around, taking a small step back.

“Is it all paid for?” You asked and he nodded smile returning. You helped him the best you could with lifting everything into the trailer.

“Is it gonna fit through the door?” You called from the other side of the trailer.

“Yeah it’ll fit” Dean said throwing you some rope.

After tying it down you headed back to the bunker. Dean parked by the entrance and you got out.

“I’ll get Sam” you said and Dean nodded getting out. You opened the doors and walked down to get Sam who was still reading.

“Hey” you called.

“Hey, got everything?” He asked and you nodded.

“Gonna need your help and he frowned but nodded following you.

“What’s this?” He asked you.

“Furniture!” Dean said happily.

“Huh?” Sam said confused and Dean rolled his eyes.

“For our rooms dumbass” Dean huffed.

“No I get that I just” you hit his stomach lightly and he stopped.

“Just help me carry it” Dean said.

After everything was inside you all collapsed on the couch.

“I don’t wanna do that again” Dean commented.

“I second that” you said hearing Sam chuckled.

“Oh we got you black hope that’s ok” Dean said to Sam.

“Sure” Sam nodded.

“I don’t wanna ruin your nesting, I just thought we’d be in one room is all” Sam said and you smiled to yourself.

“We can share beds, that’s why I got the big beds” Dean grinned.

“Besides princess here likes her own room” he pointed to you.

“Only cause I move a-lot” you huffed.

“And we’ve said we don’t mind” Dean said Sam agreeing.

“Also Sam snores, I need some sleep sometimes” Dean teased and Sam hit him making him chuckle.

“Sometimes we argue” Dean said quietly and you nodded.

“But, I think it’s good to have our own rooms, still enough room for fun times” Dean winked making you roll your eyes.

“Do you ever not think with your dick?” You asked.

“Only when I’m not around you” he grinned and you fake gagged.

“Oh come on princess” he smirked.

“You love it” he added.

“Do I?” You dragged out.

“My mark says so” he pointed to your neck, a cocky look on his face.

“His mark says so too” he added and you flushed. You lifted your hands to cover the marks on your neck, one either side, right for Dean and left for Sam. Sam had the same for Dean and you on the left. Dean had you on the right and Sam on the left. People often gave weird looks at the two bite marks either side of your necks, but never said anything, to scared too. Dean was very protective and proud of his marks and would bite someone’s head off if they bagged them.

Setting up your rooms was slow, you laid the new mattresses out on the floor near the lounge next to each other like one big bed. Dean often ended up on either Sam’s or yours bed. It was nice to do these things though, putting together the furniture with beers and laughs when Dean didn’t understand the instructions. Day by day the rooms slowly looked like normal people rooms. It was strange being able to call this your room. Dean loved it, he loved his bed and the idea of his own room, never actually had one before. Sam was a little reluctant to stay in his room, he preferred to sleep with either you or Dean his alpha ness kicking in. All three of you was usually a tight fit but with the bigger beds it was better, but not really. You slept well when you were with either one of them, but you moved a lot, you usually tossed and turned, needed a soft blanket and about a million pillows before you’d fall asleep. Despite them both saying the didn’t care you sometimes needed your own bed and space. First few nights was weird, it was nice but weird having your own room. Sam didn’t sleep in his room, no the alpha was determined to have his scent on yours and Deans bed before he was satisfied and finally tried his room. Course when he did you’d woken up in the middle of the night from a nightmare and walked to Sam’s room wrapped in a blanket. He had smiled and lifted his quilt so you could come under. He wasn’t asleep in the first place but he relaxed when he tugged you to him. By three a clock you think Dean rolled in. He was groggy, grumpy for whatever reason he mumbled. He climbed into Sam’s bed and cuddled up to you grumbling something before he fell asleep again. When morning came you smiled tucking yourself more against Sam in content. Dean mumbled in his sleep, clutching you tighter which made you smile again. Sam had chuckled quietly at Deans noise and pressed a kiss to your head whispering a soft good morning. You hummed lifting your head to look at him. His hair was out of whack and you chuckled only to hear Dean grunt in annoyance.

“Can’t we sleep in one time” he said and you laughed quietly with Sam.

“Our body’s have clocks Dean” Sam said.

“Screw my clock” he said as you rolled over to face him. He smiled then, opening his eyes.

“Morning” he grinned and you huffed before kissing him.

“Mm definitely good morning” he added and Sam laughed.

“Who wants pancakes?” He grinned and you nodded laughing. This was your white picket fence.

[sitp-recs]

Masterclass in smut 🔥

Happy Friday everyone! As promised, here’s a multishipper/multi-fandom smutty reclist with my personal wank bank favorite ships doing the nasty and being 100% unapologetic about it. I could maybe split these between 2 categories, evocative and downright problematique filth - y por que no los dos??? Naturally, everything’s (very) Explicit here. Bon Appétit my horniessss

Has the Touch by professorfangirl (Bond/Q, 007, 2k) - the sexiest, most intimate and organic smut I’ve ever read, #writing goals

Bond is good with his hands.

Slip Free of My Grasp by @lqtraintracks (Harry/Sirius, HP, 3.5k) - 1st person pov goals, sinful and redeeming at once. This Sirius holds my heart

I don't want to be bad for him. I want to do bad things and still be, somehow, inexplicably, good.

Sardines by @shiftylinguini (Scorbus + Jeddy, HP, 4k) - a masterpiece with impeccable atmosphere, no one has ever made borderline incest feel so light & playful

It’s bad enough his cock is hard from listening to the impromptu midnight pornography of his brother getting off; Albus is not going to add seeing it to the list of reasons why he lost his mind, and presumably his eyesight, on the eve of his grandmother's seventieth.

Tremolo by Lilsoshie, marose (Tony/Peter, MCU, 4.3k) - stream of consciousness smut with insatiable Tony and exhausted af Peter

“You’re gonna ride me,” Tony decides, easing his fingers free and cherishing the unhappy whine the move inspires. “Up, come on.”

The Lies We Live With by @bixgirl1 (Jeddy, HP, 5k) - peak angsty smut, just the tip has never hurt this much :(

It doesn’t really count… is almost always followed by a lie, James learns, growing up.

Honeyboy by dollylux (Wincest, Supernatural, 6k) - filthy underage semi-public incest, see y’all in hell 🤠

While John's running an errand in the backwoods in Louisiana, Sam finds a way to keep Dean occupied. (Sex kitten!Sammy and trying-so-hard-to-be-good-in-public-and-failing!Dean.)

Ravishing by Miss_Lv (Newt/Percival, Fantastic Beasts, 7.6k) - give me dead dove like this or give me nothing!!!

Theseus holds a dinner party at his home and once Newt plays his part, he escapes, unaware he has an admirer following him.

Toeing the Line by @shiftylinguini (Tedrarry, HP, 8k) - nothing gets me more into Harry/Teddy than watching Harry watch Draco fuck Teddy. Filthy & sweet but really, this is here for the brilliant title plus daddy kink

Draco wasn’t sure why watching his partner fuck Teddy until he screamed was somehow less morally iffy for Harry than just doing it himself, but Draco wasn’t about to judge. Not when he was balls deep, anyway.

Only As Directed by rageprufrock (Hartwin, Kingsman, 12k) - possessive love is knowing how to share :)

“Arthur is a bad man,” Roxy had said. “Fucking tell me about it,” Eggsy had muttered, and gone to put on the tarty trousers Harry had picked out for him like a fucking high-end pimp.

Burned Silk, Buckled Leather by @ruinsplume (Sirius/Draco, HP, 12k) - stunning catharsis smut, liberating and full of kink positivity

When Sirius discovers a down-and-out Draco Malfoy lurking around the edges of a Muggle kink club, he thinks he knows just what Draco needs. He isn't expecting to run into some long-buried needs of his own.

Euphoria by birdsofshore (Scorbus + Dralbus, HP, 22k) - my go-to wank material, dilf Draco can step on my face anytime

A fire is prickling in the pit of my belly. I feel a little like I'm watching this happening to someone else. Al's sitting there, reeking of another man's sweat and come. He looks miserable and anxious... but also well-fucked. I look at his mussed hair, his bitten lips. I've never wanted him more.

From Thy Bounty by feyrelay, natureboy (Tony/Peter, MCU, 32k) - masterclass in both building and resolving sexual tension

Tony’s eyes are always dark, but now there's almost no iris left. He looks hollowed out. There’s something terribly hungry there, despite the feast they've filled themselves on.

Sötnos by Miss_Lv (Newt/Percival, Fantastic Beasts, 37k) - exquisite world building, blows my mind every time

Newt was expelled from Hogwarts but his parents managed to get him into another school, Durmstrang. There, Newt is taken under wing by the kind Professor Graves, who teaches him everything he needs to know about making new friends.

Heart Toward the Highway by Edwardina (Jo Harvelle/John Winchester, Supernatural, 43k) - the only F/M story you’ll ever need to read, I promise

Jo, fresh out of high school, has left home and wound up on the road with John, trying to learn the ropes from someone who isn't exactly sharing and caring. John, distant and impatient, isn't really a partner, friend, or role model -- which means that Jo's gotta get all stupid and hot for him. Their stoic apprenticeship starts to unravel as Jo starts to run out of clothes and John can't ignore her anymore.

Breezeblocks by hellhoundsprey (Supernatural RPF, 59k) - I have no idea how I found this, I don’t even read RPF. if you’re into cuckolding + humiliation: it doesn’t get any better than this

After months of doubts and suspicions, Jake ends up catching his husband red-handed when he comes home early one Friday afternoon. A/B/O

[twochildreninamoteldemo]

Hi Maven!! Same q to everyone this week: what are your top 3 wincest episodes, and why?

ok im gonna cheat and do this in 2 ways hehe

a) top 3 sam/dean episodes

3. A Very Supernatural Christmas: has the samulet (their engagement ring, obviously!), you can palpably feel the isolation, the neglect, it's very two-children-in-a-motel-esque. and of course, the final scene, where i think, if there was any point in the series aside from the barn scene in which they would have said "i love you," it would have been there. the deep long stare, the watery eyes, the fact that they both know dean will be gone within the year, and then... "do you feel like watching the game?" ahhhhhhh drives me nuts

2. Swan Song: their love literally!!!!! saves the world, i mean come on. it has the whole wincest montage that you could literally set a richard siken poem to, or a taylor swift song to (look i know those are vastly different things but. bear with me), and it would just feel right. dean finally lets sam do things on his own. he lives because sam tells him to. sam manages to revoke his possession consent because of how much he's in love with dean, even as his fist is smashing dean's face into a pulp. ok i have to stop or i'm going to start crying in this goddamn airport.

Playthings: obviously. gothic horror episode of all time. picture-perfect family in the outside, secret sibling hidden upstairs. the way sam and dean's codependency is paired with that of the grandmother and her ghostly sister. the face-stroking. the almost kiss. god i swear it always looks like they're gonna kiss. sam writhing on the bed. dean staring at him like that. the subtext was about to bust through the screen, what with the acting and the way the plot and the meta-plot fit together perfectly. catherine tosenberger said it much better than i can, go read her article in TWC about wincest if you haven't!

b) top 3 family-horror-what-the-incestuous-freudian-fuck-is-going-on-here episodes

2. Devil's Trap: azazel uses john's body in a sexual manner against both sam and dean--primarily the latter but sam gets it, too. it's a chilling scene and really cements that this is what spn is about: never being able to escape the family. sam learns partly of azazel's plot, dean gets his daddy issues flayed onto him, and all through the eyes of the father. it's so well done.

3. Skin: imo the most damning thing the shifter says is, "i will be sorry to lose this skin. your brother's got a lot of great qualities. you should appreciate him more than you do." uh...what? the way he ties up sam and plans on torturing him also aligns with the shifter's pattern of turning into the husband and beating up the wife. another HMM moment actually comes from dean himself, when he tells sam that none of his friends will ever understand him and that dean's the only one who can...it's very isolating, kind of abuser tactics, and just. whew. this was episode SIX!!

In the Beginning: come on you knew i was gonna say this. aside from the obvious moments of "mom is a babe" (and remember, dean invokes sam into this moment as well..."sammy, wherever you are..."), samuel!azazel leaning over dean and smelling him, and samuel!azazel kissing mary--passionately returned(?), may i add, the plot itself sets up the winchester family as this enclosed, inbred unit. mary's kiss with her possessed father seal's sam's fate as part of azazel's army. the sexuality she shares with her father makes her son's blood diseased and cursed. the family line is tainted by incest. her kiss is what allows sam and dean to grow up that way, to become so codependent, what allows the moments of avsc, swan song, and playthings to happen! in the beginning. this begins the cycle of selling and saving souls--mary for john, john for dean, dean for sam. it's literally THEE spn episode, perhaps even more than playthings. even though sam's barely in it, his fate hangs over the whole episode, and this is full house of wincest at its finest.

[weaksspot]

anyway. it's been a million years since i managed to finish a fic so please help me <3

snippets from each to help u decide ↓

guy!jess: “Boyfriend,” Sam corrects, sourly. “My boyfriend, Dean, you can say the word.”  

Dean’s skin feels too tight. That tone in Sam’s voice, like he’s just expecting Dean to be not okay about it, to, what, hate him for it? As if he could ever hate Sam for anything. 

“Okay,” he says, defensive, but not in the way he should be. “Jeez. I’m just asking—”

“I did not go to college to be gay, Dean. God—we are not talking about this.” 

Dean breathes out through his teeth. Why’s he gotta make everything so damn difficult, always, everything so difficult. He’d forgotten, he realises—he’d started to forget just how difficult his little brother could be. Because he’d been missing him, so goddamn much, and when you miss someone like that—when it’s all-consuming, life-ruining, like that—it doesn’t matter how shitty they can be. It just matters that they’re not there. 

sammy whump:

But Dean keeps on putting his face into Sam’s neck and Sam keeps on forcing him back so he can see him, because the fear is easier to keep at bay if he can see him—until Sam half groans half pleads Dean and so Dean knocks his brow against Sam’s instead, and Sam can stare up into the green blur of his eyes and taste his breath and let himself dissolve under the weight of his body and the slide of his skin and as he comes he whispers Dean again, and Dean tilts his head to kiss him through it, and he—must have bitten his lip—he tastes like blood. His hand is still on him, now too sensitive. Sam shifts his hips back against the mattress, twitching, puts his hands on Dean’s face to push him away just a bit and when he opens his eyes and looks up at him Dean’s skin is bloodless pale and cold beneath his hands and his eyes are hollow and his lips part and blood drools out of his mouth into Sam’s own and Sam shot through with horror shrinks back from him and screams. 

demon dean:

“I know what you need,” Dean’s telling him, and there’s blood oozing down the side of his palm now, painting his wrist—painting Sam’s lips as Dean smears it over them, past them, into his mouth again. Sam turns his head away, tries to; Dean lets go of his dick and takes his jaw and wrenches him back so hard it strains some muscle in the side of his neck, sends pain pulsing from temple to shoulder. His hard-on is definitely gone. Dean’s very much isn’t. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he soothes, as he presses his thumb against the vice of Sam’s teeth, as he squeezes the fingers and thumb of his other hand into the hinge of his jaw to force it open. “Shh, shh, baby. Baby brother. My beautiful baby brother. I’m not gonna hurt you.”