Sam is the king of hell, and his subjects fear him,
naturally. They avoid his clear-eyed stare, and cower as he voices his demands
from his throne; they tremble when he enters the room.
However, there’s one another creature they fear more.
His brother, his lifeguard, his consort, his lover.
Dean, the Knight of Hell, who never leaves the king’s
side.
Black-eyed Dean is the most ruthless, merciless
creature to have ever walked through the gates of hell, and if he detects even
the slightest indication that someone’s loyalty towards Sam wavers even in the
faintest way, he eliminates them.
Whenever Sam speaks to his subjects, Dean’s eyes
narrows as he watches the crowd intently. He watches them all; whose gaze is
the least revering? Who ceases to applaud the king first?
He takes them back to the most gruesome place; the heart of hell – Sam is rumored to
have affectionally named the dungeon “the Concert hall”, because the screams
Dean produces in that place constantly echoes like a never-ending, ghastly
symphony in there.
Sam’s fingers are loosely curled around Dean’s throat,
pushing him up against the wall of the dungeon. Torches crackles around them,
and Dean’s green eyes looks like gems in the yellow light. Dean smells of exhilaration
and violence, and Sam smiles softly.
“Are you enjoying yourself, brother?”
Dean’s teeth gleams when he smiles, his fingers
gripping Sam’s wrist. “They make such pretty noises,” he gasps, as Sam kisses
his neck, gently grazing his teeth across Dean’s jugular.
“Not as pretty as the noises you can do,” Sam
whispers, his hot breath fanning all over Dean’s neck. “Finish him off,” he
orders, thigh pressing against Dean’s hardening cock. “Need to fuck you, Dean.”
“Yeah,” Dean nods, pulls out his blade, and beheads
the demon chained to the wall; who’s long ago passed out from the torture.
Dean chest heaves. “He was caught mocking your choice
of consort.”
Sam stares down at the severed head, a small smile
tugging at the corners of his mouth. “A fellow of infinite jest,” he mumbles,
reaching out to thread his fingers through Dean’s hair.
i’m gonna search for your love, right through hell and heaven millions of years yet to come and in all dimensions i know that you’ll always be my happy ending
Dean Winchester didn’t date. Or rather, he didn’t go on second dates. He hardly went on first dates to begin with. He would find some girl, maybe she was blonde or a brunette or maybe a redhead, honestly it didn’t matter, but he would start talking to her, turn on that Winchester charm and the girl would practically be in love with him before he even fully introduced himself.
Then, in that way that only Sam knew how to do, he showed up at Dean’s side and just like that, Dean would be gone.
With one look down into those innocent doe eyes, the girl, no matter how pretty she could be, was nothing more than a memory.
Dean would wrap his arm around Sam’s bony shoulders, pulling him in tight next to his body and the girl would look at the two of them with a fond, slightly confused smile. She thought that they were getting somewhere, that maybe she had a chance with this beautiful stranger but the way that they were looking at each other, it was obvious to anyone that they were together.
It would take a moment longer for the girl to realize that Dean was only being nice, trying to be friendly towards her, maybe try to be friends but he didn’t want anything else because he was already taken.
Sam would keep his eye on the girl as she and his brother talked, making sure to whenever the girl glanced down at him that he was looking up at Dean with this possessive glint in his eye, one that clearly read that Dean was his. The conversation would end sometime after that and Dean would still have his arm around his brother as Sam laced his arm around Dean’s waist. For a couple of minutes Dean would sulk because he thought he was getting somewhere with the girl but then Sam would smile at him like that and suddenly nothing else would matter.
It was so damn obvious to everyone who even cared to look that Sam had Dean wrapped so tight around his pinky finger that it could almost be considered Stockholm Syndrome and Dean was none the wiser.
thirty words in thirty days audaciousdean vs. @call-888-8sparky word #6: second date
In the first episode they roll around on the floor, Dean pins Sam to the ground and calls him tiger, and they stand so close in front of each other that they could probably feel the other’s breath on their lips all within the first 10 minutes where we first meet them and I’m expected not to ship wincest?
This look. This “we’re doing this Butch and Sundance style” look. This “I may never see you again but we’re going out with a bang” look. This “yes, you’re a lunatic and I love you” look. This “we’re writing the end of our own story” look. This look gives me life.
Think of Dean in season 3, after all these years of holding his feelings inside, after having known about Sam’s but never doing anything about it because he didn’t believe it to be right, just breathing in deeply and muttering, “Fuck it. I’m going to hell anyway.” And grabbing Sam’s face with one hand, pulling him down by his collar with the other and kissing him sweet and long.
Backup bloh 