literally soulmates

NO LONGER ACTIVE.

[enamouredwincests]

hello, everyone. i am unable to log into my old account @enamouredwincest so i made a new account. like my old account, all my written works will be tagged as “🌱” and/or “nini’s late night writings.”.i’ll try to reblog my old works here so you can reread them if you wish. if you have any questions or simply wish to talk, please do not hesitate to send me a private message.

[nothingidputbeforeyou]

inspired by this comic

[sammy-dean]

[enamouredwincests]

don’t mind me, i’m just watching supernatural again from the beginning and thinking about how whenever sam gets wounded or shows the slightest bit of discomfort, dean is immediately making sure that he’s ok. just. immediately going “sammy?!” in that worried tone of voice and cupping his face in the gentlest way possible. also, he punched sam in the episode where they met gordon and then he asked sam to punch him back when he realized sam was right about the case which was very considerate of him. what a sweetie.

[enamouredwincest]

I like to think that Dean was maybe a little shocked and definitely a whole lot curious the first time Sam “admitted” to liking a girl because his ‘I think I like a girl.’ had sounded more like ‘I think? I like a girl?’ and yeah, maybe his heart broke because he had loved his little brother for years but... whatever.

But after the shock, and the curiosity and the heartbreak came a whole lot of confusion because all his life, Sam had never crushed on anybody, so why start now in his late teens?

But Dean was a good big brother so shoved all thoughts to the back of his mind and focused on helping his brother take this mystery girl out on a date and kiss her.

Much later, when he’s sitting on the couch in the motel and drinking a beer, Sam comes back looking like he spent the last three hours sucking on a lemon, which is... odd, to say the least.

“How was it?” He asks, watching Sam kicks his shoes off and toss his jacket aside which is even more odd because his brother is always bitching how he never puts his stuff away in the right place.

“Horrible,” Sam’s muttering and walking straight towards him, straddling Dean’s lap and placing a hand on Dean’s check, “she wasn’t you.” And then Sam’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to Dean’s and he’s frozen in suprise for a few seconds but then he’s kissing back, placing his hands on his baby brother’s slim hips.

The kiss is desperate and sloppy since Sam in clearly inexperienced, always more focused on schoolwork rather than boys or girls, but he’s very enthusiastic and Dean would pick his adorable baby brother over an experienced stranger any day.

When they pull apart, Sam’s kiss-swollen lips curl up into a beautifully breathtaking smile and he mutters ‘Much better.’ and Dean can only groan and pull Sam into another kiss, pulling him closer and wrapping an arm around his waist.

They don’t get to talking too much after that.

(Later, much much later, when he’s picking up Sam from school and he sees Sam talking to a girl and smiling apologetically at her, and he sees her light hair and green eyes and the very faint freckles on her cheeks, he can only Oh, it makes sense now.)

Tags:

@velvet-impala

[enamouredwincest]

WARM AND SAFE IN YOUR ARMS

Nights like these, when they got back from a long hunt and were able to relax and let down their guard, Sam liked to lay back in their comfortable memory foam bed that Dean had insisted on buying and just think (after taking a long, hot shower and scrubbing away all the blood and grime, of course). It was only in the bunker because in shitty motels rooms it was almost impossible for him to relax enough to fall into a deep sleep, and the uncomfortable beds and the distance between his and Dean’s beds never helped at all. Usually, he thought about anything and everything until he got tired and unable to resist the call of sleep, but tonight was different.

The bunker was quiet, Dean was a warm and solid presence behind him in bed and sleep was already tugging at his eyelids, but every time he felt the brush of Dean’s bandages against his bare back whenever Dean breathed, his stomach churned unpleasantly and tears pricked at his eyes.

The wound wasn’t bad, and his brother had obviously had much worse, but just seeing him slumped against the wall, bleeding and unconscious with a snarling werewolf looming over him had been enough for a mantra of nononoi’mlosinghimnonotagain to run through his mind as he ran towards his brother, gripping the machete tight enough to make his knuckles go white.

Next thing he knew, he was shoving a headless werewolf aside and rushing forward to check his brother’s wounds, relieved to see his brother still breathing yet still bleeding heavily from a wound on his side.

The ride back was a blur with a half-conscious Dean, who had woken up when Sam had been carrying him back to the car, telling him to be more careful with Baby, dammit, I just washed her yesterday.

With Cas and Jack away on a hunt of their own, Sam had to help Dean shower and patch him up himself, but he did so with no complaints because it reminded him of back when it was just him and Dean in shitty motel rooms, bickering and patching each other wounds and then falling into bed together afterwards, a mess of limbs and desperate touches and fuck, your elbow is digging into my stitches and i almost lost you and don’t you dare fucking do that again.

Now, with both of them safe and in bed, with Dean doing that cute snuffle snore behind him (hey, he can’t say that Dean has the cutest, most adorable snuffle snore but he can think it), his warm breaths puffing against Sam’s ear, he can admit to himself just how scared he was of losing Dean.

Yes, he had lost Dean many times before, but the thought of almost losing him again was just too much. Damn werewolf. Sam suddenly wished that he remembered cutting the werewolf’s head off, if only to get satisfaction from the image.

The last time he had been this scared was back when Dean had gotten hurt for the first time and John had left them alone to finish the hunt since people were dying.

God, just the thought of it...

******

Sam was tired. No, it wasn’t late and yes, he had slept a full 8 hours last night. He was just tired of John and Dean going off on hunts and leaving him alone, only calling when they needed information on the monster they were looking to kill.

He was tired of sitting besides the phone with his heart in his throat, watching the door like a hawk and hoping - praying that Dean would come back to him healthy and whole and with that shit eating grin on his face and his stupid miss me, Sammy? because if he didn’t and Sam never saw him again, then...

No. He wasn’t gonna think like that. Dean always came back to him, and he was gonna come back to him this time, too, or Sam was gonna chase down his ghost and salt and burn his bones himself. A hunter’s funeral wouldn’t have been needed after Sam was done with him.

Sam was so deep in thought that when the door slammed open, he almost jumped 20 feet up in the air. He opened his mouth to say something about the brute entrance but froze with the words on the tip of his tongue when he noticed the limp form of his 19-year-old brother in his father’s arms.

“What happened?” He gasped, swallowing around his heart in his throat as he watched John lay a pale Dean down on one of the beds and start to tend to his wounds carefully.

Sam almost threw up when he saw all the cuts and bruises covering his brother’s body, the body that he had spent many a night pressed up against as they kissed and desperately rutted against each other, trying to muffle moans and groans into each other’s necks.

The sight of the three deep, bloody claw marks running down Dean’s muscled back almost did make him lose his dinner, but he calmed down in favor of helping his father, who hadn’t bothered in answering Sam’s question.

Soon after they finished, John left again to finish the hunt and left Sam with instructions to care for Dean.

Dean was always so careful on hunts, so how...?

Sam spent three days at his brother’s bedside without even a wink of sleep, constantly caring for him and changing the bandages and trying to keep him comfortable and clean.

On the evening of the fourth day, with the sun setting behind Sam, his brother finally showed signs of waking, groaning and cursing under his breath as he slowly opened his eyes.

“Dean?” Sam asked hopefully, watching as his brother slowly turned his head to look at him, eyes wide in what seemed like awe.

Slowly, his lips curled into a familiar smirk, that paired with his hooded eyes with a spark of mischief in them made heat start to bloom in Sam which he promptly ignored.

“Heya, Sammy. You missed me?” Came his brother’s tired voice and Sam finally let himself cry in relief as he jumped forward to press his lips against his brother’s in a kiss in which he expressed all the love and fear and relief that he didn’t think he was able to say with words at this moment.

Dean quickly took control of the kiss and Sam melted into it, curling his hand into the front of Dean’s loose t-shirt and leaning closer. “Don’t scare me like that again, I thought I lost you.” Sam hissed and Dean simply chuckled, pulling him closer and kissing him deeper as the sun set behind them.

******

“You’re tense, Sam.” Dean’s sudden voice, paired with the soft kiss pressed to the back of his neck made Sam startle slightly and pulled him out of his thoughts, which only made Dean chuckle sleepily and pull the taller male closer against his body. “What’s wrong?” He murmured, lips still pressed against Sam’s neck.

Sam paused, wondering if he should tell Dean what was bothering him. Moments like these made his brother more prone to talk but... “It’s nothing.” He sighed, attempting to shrink into himself when Dean pinched his hip and tightened the arm wrapped around his waist in an almost possessive manner.

Dean didn’t say anything but Sam still got the message, sighing as he turned around and bit back a smile when Dean simply pressed their bodies close again, careful with the wound on his side.

Looking away, Sam took a few moments to collect his thoughts before muttering a “I thought I lost you today, Dean.”. He could almost feel Dean’s gaze on him, its intensity making a shiver run down Sam’s spine.

Again, Dean said nothing. He simply pulled Sam close and kissed him, one hand rubbing his hip gently. “I’m right here, sweetheart. You’re not losing me again, I promise.” He whispered when he pulled away and Sam hid his face in his brother’s chest, trying to hide the tears that wanted to fall.

Dean simply held him and ran his hand up and down Sam’s back in a gentle caress as he cried until he finally fell asleep in his arms.

Only then did he kiss his baby brother’s forehead and whisper a soft “Goodnight, baby boy.”, knowing fully well that he intended to do everything in his power and more to keep his promise and keep his baby brother, whose heart was sometimes too big, safe and sound in his arms. Only then did he let himself fall back asleep, knowing no harm would ever come to his baby boy as long as they were together, no force on heaven or earth or hell able to keep them apart.

They were soulmates, after all.