pegasus

[twilightspegasus]

[sonwifesoldier]

That it wasn't John's idea is about the only saving grace in all of it.

John and Dean in a bar, and John overhears two strangers talking about all sorts of things they would like to do to his son. He listens to them talking about his lips and what they'd feel like, about how his face would be red as he'd cry (John corrects in his mind that it's not like that—Dean's what other people would call a "pretty crier"). He can't quite keep the images out of his head, his imagination adjusting the details that those strangers get wrong, until he can get it perfect: Dean on his knees, one of those lone tears running down his face, shining eyes looking greener under a certain light.

It's not his idea—it's just, he's had a few drinks, and he's not a saint, of course he's going to imagine things when people are saying shit like that. And yeah, Dean's his sixteen year old son, but he is—well, John has eyes.

Then the guys say something about how good Dean would look ruined, and that's what make John leave. It's that or put a bullet into their heads.

John guides Dean out of the bar with a heavy hand on the small of his back and he can't help but glance back at those strangers. Dean and him—they aren't like that; John would never do it, even if a treacherous voice whispers to him that, really, would it fuck up the boy all that much worse, after everything? But he likes those men seeing his claim on Dean, likes the envy he can see in their expressions. It's almost like vicariously living it all in their fantasies—it's just unreal enough that he can deny it all.

And then Dean falls asleep on the passenger seat, his face turned to John, mouth slightly parted, and John can't help but understand the desire to ruin something so beautiful. It's a dangerous thing, to think about how real it could be—some part of him refuses to acknowledge how easy it would be, how accommodating and careful and good Dean would be for him. He could park the car and tell Dean to do whatever. He wills himself to believe that Dean wouldn't—that he'd shout and fight and take Sam and run away. Maybe he'd kill John for trying that.

That idea has to be enough to make him push through—just through this night, because come morning the alcohol will be gone, and these thoughts will be nothing but a memory.

(The thoughts don't go away, though. It wasn't his idea, but now that it was put into his mind...)

[wincestwhispers]

Sam drilled into Dean mercilessly, draped over his back, hands covering Dean’s. He’d been going at it for a while and Dean was sufficiently fucked out, reduced to low whines and gasping. Sam leaned back and pulled Dean up by his hair until he had access to his neck and sunk his teeth in deep, wrapping an arm around Dean’s front. Dean groaned and let out a quiet, “Fuck, Dad.”

Sam’s hips stuttered and stopped, jaw releasing Dean’s neck. Dean blinked and tried to look at Sam, confused. Sam’s eyes darkened and his nostrils flared. His hand on Dean’s hip pressed hard enough to leave bruises, and he tilted his lips up to Dean’s ear, “What did you call me?”

Dean swallowed and shifted uncomfortably. He didn’t answer.

Sam pulled out of Dean and shoved him to the bed. Flipping him over, Sam grabbed his wrists and with one hand, held them above Dean’s head.

“Did dad do this to you? Did he fuck you into a mattress until you came three times on his cock?” Sam’s grip tightened over Dean’s wrists, his bones creaking.

“Did dad bite you on the neck, for all to see? Did he leave you a fucked out mess for your little brother to find on the motel couch later?” Dean whimpered and bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

Sam spread Dean’s legs with his thigh and roughly shoved two fingers inside him. Dean squirmed and shut his eyes.

“Did he think I wouldn’t notice? He fucked you right across from my bed, thinking I was asleep, countless times. I saw the red and white stains on your clothes and motel sheets,” Sam growled and added a third finger inside him, not letting up for a second.

“I always knew. Of course I knew,” Dean cracked his eyes open to peer at Sam, anguished and turned on and scared. Sam recognized the look, it was the same one Dean pointed at Dad for years.

“But I am not John, and he has no place here.”

Dean tensed and tried to get his hands free while Sam re-aligned himself to Dean’s hole. With a gentle caress to Dean’s hip, Sam thrust in hard, sinking his entire cock inside. Dean moaned long and loud, thrashing in Sam’s hold. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. Sam set a brutal pace, grabbing Dean’s jaw with his free hand and forcing him to look into Sam’s eyes.

“I will make you forget his touch, even if it means tying you up and fucking you over and over and over again,” Sam leaned in close, kissed a tear from his cheek, “You’re mine, Dean. Mine.”

[deanwincesterinmascara]

azazel!john: god dean that’s so good

dean: *unthroats johns dick* hey wait a second

[incestousvoid]

he's a good boy, taking everything dad gives him — giving everything dad asks him to

[twilightspegasus]

[twilightspegasus]

that one time dean got roofied and john had to come rescue him🤤

[mothy-bones]

My fill for the "Somnophilia" square for the @spn-summer-rapecation !

[deanwincesterinmascara]

john, while balls deep: god, dean, what's wrong with you

[beautifulbrothers]

DEAN WINCHESTER + Vampires | 1.20 | 3.07 | 6.05

[twilightspegasus]

John used him as bait and trained him to become the perfect for it, someone who could draw monsters in that that eventually the role consumed dean. it stopped being something dean did and became something he was. even when he isn’t trying, people are drawn to him because that instinct, that ability to lure danger toward himself, has been conditioned into him for so long that it’s almost second nature.

[twilightspegasus]

teen dean

[wincestwhispers]

When Dean was 12 his Dad started putting a heavy hand on his lower back or neck every time they were at a truck stop or gas station, sometimes even in diners. It took awhile but Dean eventually noticed the sharp glare Dad always shot other men whenever he’d get handsy like this, the tightening of his hold when they’d speak to Dean. He didn’t mind, he liked the touch. It made him feel safe. It took until he was 16 to realize it wasn’t out of protectiveness, it was out of possessiveness. And isn’t that ridiculous? The thought that Dean would ever leave his family. Like he would ever want to. He knows where he belongs. He knows who he belongs to.

[twilightspegasus]

dean why are you as a boy, so hairless ? that’s why daddy touched you

[twilightspegasus]

one other thing i love with johndean is how switchy john can be. one moment he’s calling dean his little girl, brushing the hair out of his face, telling him “you’ve got your mother’s eyes. thank god for that” pressing a kiss to his forehead like it’s the most natural thing in the world. and then something in him curdles.

“quit looking at me like that”

“stand up straight”

“get out of the fucking kitchen”

“i’m trying to make a man out of you”

like the tenderness disgusts him the second he realizes he’s capable of it, the second he realizes dean, the boy who’s supposed to be a protector, his soldier, his guard dog, ignites such feelings in him. in other men. it disgusts him. he can’t get enough of it. it’s a loop. and so dean learns that affection is always followed by punishment. he’s confused and doesn’t know what he could do to please his dad..

[twilightspegasus]

johndean

[pedrospascaled]

JEFFREY DEAN MORGAN as JD Richter Extant | Season 2, Episode 1 - Change Scenario

[twilightspegasus]

never forget that soulless sam was fascinated by and enjoyed watching dean get assaulted and forced into submission by that creep.

-he was hiding his boner