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S8E19, “Taxi Driver”

"There's a shared desire between Sam and Dean that is buried deep beneath the surface. The need to consume and be consumed that goes without the other's knowledge until circumstances bring things into the light. Like any form of tension, something's gotta give sometime."

"Maybe, if he'd grown up without a gun in his fucking waistband, he'd have kept it to … spanking, or something. Yeah. Sam wants to be spanked like a racecar driver wants a bicycle."

"Stupid. He is so goddamn fucking stupid. Running his mouth like a fucking idiot, not knowing when to leave well enough alone. Bad enough that he just practically talked dirty to his little brother, which, Christ – he must be more stressed than he thought if his self-control mechanisms have started malfunctioning that badly. But no, no, he came up with a scenario straight out of a bad slasher film, as if that is something normal people talk dirty about, as if that is something Sam would seriously enjoy. As if – As if Dean hadn’t hunted his own brother through the maze of the bunker, eyes black and hammer raised to strike, not even a full year ago. As if Sam hadn’t, just a few weeks back, knelt at his feet, neck bared, waiting for Dean to deal a fatal blow with a fucking scythe."

"Sam has always called Dean “daddy” when dad’s not around. Dean likes it a lot."

"There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants."

"Dean Winchester has hit his brother before. In anger. When he deserved it. With his righteous right hand closed into a furious fist, he has distributed what he believes to be justice. It is not just his duty to keep Sam corrected, collecting penance, it is his right. This isn’t that. --- We all have our breaking points."

""Tell me you're not doing it on purpose." Dean says. There's a tremor in his voice, and he trembles, with rage and with fear and with love, above all. Sam doesn't reply. (Or: After Sam's wall breaks, he starts getting hurt on cases. A lot.)"

"When you’re horny and alone with one person in one room for a long time and you’re sixteen and all you’ve ever been taught is to love your brother more than anything, it doesn’t seem like that far of a leap to start imagining what his mouth would feel like around your dick."

"Sometimes Sam gets really needy, and the only thing that will settle him is a good, hard, deep dicking from his big brother. Luckily, Dean knows just how to take care of him. All hail Sampussy. No ages are explicitly given, I picture Sam late teens, Dean early twenties for this fic."

"Sam doesn't understand why Dean has to go out to get sex, when he’s got Sam. (Sammy's sixteen.)"

"Sam (14) and Dean (18) enjoy winter at a cottage up north while John's on a hunt."

"a human Lady and the Tramp, with dog-like sex" AKA the original abo fic of all abo fics. yeah. *this is J2 but i thought it was worthy of being included.

"Sam ends up on the wrong side of a genderswap spell and Dean wants to make the most of it."

"Sam sticks his tongue out, berry pink like the underside of something sweet and alive you’re not supposed to see, and it makes Dean think of pussy lips. Wet and slick. A pale purple circle with a smiley face stamped on it sits in the middle of all that pretty pink. Dean tilts his head up, just a little because he’s tall but his brother is taller, and licks the pill off Sam’s tongue."

"Sam was not wearing that outfit when Dean dropped him off at his friend’s Halloween party a few hours ago. If he’d been wearing that, Dean wouldn’t have let him out of the house, let alone out of the car and into a den full of horny teenagers drinking cheap beer and listening to the Backstreet Boys croon about romance."

""Should’a been a real nice weekend, y’know? Just the two of us—no hunt, no interruptions. Could’ve made the most of it, but you had to start up with that jealous girlfriend act of yours…" Sam hates every second he's not the sole focus of Dean's attention. Careful what you wish for."

"Sam tries—really, he does. But Dean doesn't believe in pulling his punches, takes him to the ground sore and sweaty every time."

"He always did fall too deep in love with things that could destroy him—a fast car on an open road, cheap liquor burning all the way down, and the way his little brother says ‘please’. Sam is sweet fruit coming into season, and Dean has sticky fingers."

"When Sam gets up the courage to ask his brother for kissing advice, he’s not sure what he expects–maybe a little laughter, a strange look, eventually, hopefully, some actual advice."

"Sam is first crush, first time, first love hopeless for his brother."

"Feeling clean is important to Sam. Lucifer finds a way to take that away. Dean finds a way to fix it. (post Lucifer resurrecting Sam in Beat the Devil. Dean finds out, potentially in not a great way, exactly what happened between Sam and Lucifer)."

"Dean doesn't understand why Sam is different, why he won't just do what Dad wants him to. If he did, then Dad wouldn't beat him all the time. Dean tries to help him conform, but everything changes when he finds Sam's journal, which lays out all his freaky desires."

"Sam chuckled and let his chin rest against the top of her head. “It’s weird,” he said. “The kind of shit you can admit to strangers. We barely know each other, but I could never say this stuff to Dean.” She lifted her head and looked him in the eyes. “It’s because we’re strangers, Sam. When we leave, it’ll be like none of this ever happened.” “Yeah,” he said. “I dunno if that’s a comfort or a tragedy.” She rolled her eyes at him and looked back out over the town. “Both, probably,” she said."

"Set between "Hunted" and "Playthings." Dean's not sure when, exactly, everything started to change."

"Follows 2x08, "Crossroad Blues." Dean's running on fumes, and Sam's the match."

"John strands Dean and Sam at a middle-of-nowhere motel while he investigates possible demon omens in Arizona. The place is nothing to write home about, but at least it has a pool. Dean resolves to think of this as a vacation for him and his studious little brother, but when their money runs out sooner than expected, he considers turning tricks at a nearby truck stop so he can feed Sam. Then a creepy guy from the pool makes an offer Dean doesn’t want to take but Sam won’t allow him to refuse—and the brothers edge over a line they’ve both been wanting to cross for a long time."

"Sam comes home after a night out."

"Dean knew that letting Sam walk home from school alone was a bad idea."

"Sam wants Dean to play with him."

"Dean challenges Sam to a game of strip poker."

"Dean enters the Panic Room at exactly the wrong time."

"When Sam convinces him to camp out in front of the fireplace, Dean discovers that it's not so bad."

"If Sam can't fight anymore, Dean will fight for him."

"“It’s not working,” Dean sits down on the other end of the couch heavily with a whoosh, jostling Sam. Sam almost drops his book, and protests loudly. Dean turns to look at him. “We have to be gayer.” Sam barks a laugh, startled, but Dean’s expression doesn’t change. Sam sits up, putting his book down in his lap. “Gayer?” Sam tries to process Dean’s impassive expression. “Why don’t you tell me what you think that means?” Or: In order to catch a monster killing gay couples in Iowa, Sam and Dean have to dig deep and pull out the performance of a lifetime. Or...y'know. Not that deep. Written for WincestWednesdays July 2024 Event, Week One: "Performance"!"

"With Dean, it’s always like this. A thousand years of waiting, then one minute to ruin everything. So Sam saves him the trouble. He looks straight ahead and murmurs, “Brady and I were together.” For a second, Dean’s foot lifts off the gas, and the car drifts slightly toward the center line. His arms go rigid, and the engine growls beneath them as he presses the pedal down again. He licks his lips slowly, then nods. “Okay,” he mutters, voice controlled and smooth."

"Two teenage brothers sharing a bed. What could go wrong?"

"The guy who dropped Dean off in the morning was in his late fifties, a mop of curly black hair and a boxy canvas jacket. Sam followed Dean through the motel room as he kicked off his boots and shucked his jacket. “Since… Dad. You’ve been—” “What, Sam? Since when do you give a shit about this stuff? I don’t go around holding up scorecards for all the chicks you’re not banging, you fuckin’ monk, you’d think the least you could do is—” “He looked like him, dude.”"

"Sam could see himself letting his carefully-cultivated life go totally off the rails at Dean's sudden appearance: skip lectures, bail on friends, hole up with him in his stuffy little dorm room and fuck each other's brains out like they were in the pay-by-the-hour motels of their youth, waste his hard-earned money on greasy takeout and hunt some motherfucking ghosts, all while being hopelessly, unapologetically in love, the way he was before he had anything else to think about."

"Sam said, "You know I wish you just wanted to fuck me? That would be easy, they've got words for that kind of messed up." That just made Dean's pits sweat. He felt like Wile E. Coyote running into a tunnel painted onto a mountain face, little birds circling around his head. "Uh." "What do you know about Jeffrey Dahmer?" He'd been having a good day."

"Any initial awkwardness filtered away over a hundred miles of highway as Sam thumbed through the missing witch’s diary again. Some people had secret coke habits or secret second wives, and some people had passionate, pitch black, no-kissing sex with a family member every four to six months and never talked about it. You had to find ways to cope."

"“Have you been doing laundry? Where are all my boxers?” Dean kept walking right into this stuff. Sam weighed his options and spoke carefully. “Half your boxers are in the second drawer of my dresser. You didn’t like going to get clean underwear, in the morning, so you made me clear out a drawer for you.” He paused. “I’ve got a drawer in your room, too.” Dean looked physically pained. “That… can’t be true.” Sam sighed and went back to his book. “I know you don’t remember, but we had a lot of sex. You’re gonna have to trust me.”"

"Dean didn’t know what finally made him go for it. The djinn’s dream was a catalyst, but the call was coming from inside the house, and he’d been letting it ring for a very, very long time. (They get one night together right before Sam is taken to Cold Oak. Dean has to deal with that.)"

"Dean kept looking at his ring on Sam’s finger, which was also his finger. To see the ring anywhere but his own hand seemed wrong, and seeing it on Sam’s hand specifically was… intimate. He couldn’t think of another word for it. Not more intimate than inhabiting Sam’s body, but it was close."

"It's about permission. Or it's about pain. Or it's about something else entirely, Dean doesn't fucking know. All he knows is, he doesn't have enough trust left in him to just leave any part of Sam in Cas's care."

"There's nothing good on TV, and Sam's contemplating killing his father again."

"From this prompt on blindfold_spn: Sam/Dean, touch-starvation. Besides other things, Lucifer touch-starves Sam in Hell as punishment (Sam did fall in the Pit with his entire body and all...). Once out, Sam cannot bring himself to ask Dean despite how badly he needs it. Dean needs to realize what Sam's problem is, and how to get himself to help, since constant touching doesn't exactly come naturally to him. Set between seasons 5 and 6."

1.12   3.15   4.15

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So I’m sorry it wasn’t me, all right? Dean, I’m sorry.