when itās again pining teen top!sam who loves hunting and wants to fuck his brother because heās into incest
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when itās again pining teen top!sam who loves hunting and wants to fuck his brother because heās into incest
the list goes on and on and on and on

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snug as two bugs in a rug
snug as two bugs in a rug by Emeraldcas || @emeraldcas Rating: General Audiences Word count: 2k
Dean wants Cas to sleep in his room with him and Cas is going to be completely normal about that very normal request :)
Even though I usually don't review fics as short as this one, I just had to make an exception for this because damn. This fic packed quite a punch of good feelings, fluff, and warmth.
A simple request from Dean is enough to make Cas spiral out of control. He should feel completely normal about sharing a bed with Dean, but because we know our boys, it's completely unsurprising the fact that Cas reacts in a SO not normal way to Dean's request to sleep with him.
What follows is a sweet glance at our boys sharing a bed and their night with each other for the first time. And even though there's no explicit outcome of it, it feels just as rewarding to see both Cas and Dean sharing such a sweet and vulnerable moment with each other.
This fic is the ultimate sharing-a-bed fic, and if you enjoy that trope, you should give this fic a try.
Dean Winchester Tags
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I did the thing @impala-dreamer
Title: Cleaning Up
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No Comfort, Pining, Dean POV
Words: 1423
Warnings: Serious injury, blood, suturing, bruising, alcohol use (external and internal), pining, unrequited(?) pining, nudity, masturbation
Summary: Dean's POV as he helps clean you up after a hunt.
A/N: This is the first thing I've written since 2023(!!), so be gentle please. I do so enjoy writing Dean's POV.
Also, the reader is fully neutral, no gendered pronouns, no descriptions of physical features.
The work is restricted to registered users only, sorry. You can thank genAI scrapers for that.
Link to AO3
Demon Dean was unrealistic cuz his deep dark thoughts arenāt about killing Sam, theyāre a sick, twisted need to have him by his side and never leave him. Also, a secret third thing.

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Dean realizing he has feelings for Sam for the first time while Sam is at Stanford aaaaand go
Deanās got a new problem. Ever since Sam left for Stanford, itās been bubbling up inside of him. At first, immense grief that came in violent waves but followed by something more terrible, uglier, than anything heād ever felt. It was like a match that lit up his most possessive and obsessive parts, and he was set alight by it, just smouldering endlessly as Sam did⦠whatever he does now.
It started with feverish nights as he tossed and turned, thinking about Sam incessantly and what he did and why he wasnāt fucking here right now, laying beside him. He would ache for Sam. He missed his smell and the soft brush of his hair against his arm as he woke slowly in the wake of the rising sun. Ir hurt like an anvil on his chest, knocked the wind out of him every time he thought about it. And he thought about it all the time ā like the worst kind of masochist ā and it only hurt worse when he drank, which he did a lot of, too. Sometimes heād get so loaded that heād find himself crying as he tried to sleep, in that drunken half-awake state of mind where his subconscious took the wheel. Heād weep over Sam and how badly he missed him, how bad he wanted him near him, to touch and to grab and to hold.
And just like that, it started to grow ā the problem ā seeing its way into Deanās life and investing in permanent property in his mind.Ā
The nights slowly started to shift, crawling away from sad but quickly approaching desperate. And desperate was a whole new kind of game to play, whimpering into the sheets and whining Samās name over and over again until heād dissolve into heaving in the mattress, his fingernails digging into the edges. A little more liquor than usual after a couple of nights, and suddenly heās fallen into a habit of humping against the mattress as he cries and begs to a dark and empty room for something he canāt have. And then, once heās good and hard, he dries his eyes, flops onto his back and takes his cock in his fist, head reclining into the pillow as his eyes roll back and he rocks into his hand. Another two nights, and heās saying Samās name.
It follows him around sober now, too. Itās eaten up too much of his time, taken fascination to such extremes that he knows it intends to stick around, and heās aware of it. Heās aware of it all of the time. Sammy. His Sammy is gone. And what he left behind is a feral older brother that wants to possess him and overcome him with lust. Heās completely out-of-control, out-of-line, but Dadās barely around anymore, and Deanās so fucked up and twisted from sitting around and thinking about it for so damn long that he canāt tell anymore if heās grievous or grateful for the separation. Heās completely and utterly alone, and Sam creeps up and manifests in every space of him, inhabiting and expanding inside Deanās chest until heās void of who is completely because heās entirely made up of Sam. Heās nothing without him, and it makes him nuts, always one wrong move away from starting the car and going to drag his ass home.
It wouldnāt work. He knows it wouldnāt work. And it makes him furious. Heās never been powerless before, much less over Sam, and these feelings donāt seem like theyāll resolve any time soon.
Wish we could.
On Camera
Ā a fic for @writethelifeyouwantĀ about Sam. On camera.
I think it ended up a bit over 500 words. Sorry not sorry.
-
Sam looks around nervously, a final check that everythingās in place. Bed made, door locked, roommate out for the next few hours, lights adjusted the way the studio told him to. Lube and a ārealisticā dildo in easy reach, and heās wearing loose gray sweatpants and a Stanford-red hoodie.
Tripod with camera aimed at the pool of light on the bed, and he wishes he could keep his face out but the studio pays more if they can see his face, his reactions, and heās more than a little desperate since discovering that his scholarship doesnāt cover books or meal plan and he needs cash fast. Luckily thereās a market for pretty boys in financial need, he doesnāt even need to let someone else touch him and the studio loved his jack-off video.Ā
Thisāll pay more.
Deep breath. He hits ārecordā and moves around to sit on the bed.
āHey, so uh⦠Iām Sam, and you all liked my first vid so much, Iām making another. And itād really help me out if you could leave a comment about what else youād like to see from me.ā He scrubs his hands on his sweatpants, laughs a little. āIām still a bit nervous, so any encouragement you all could give would be⦠yeah.ā
The studio told him not to worry about music or anything, theyād add some when they edited the video heās sending them, but he canāt help wishing he could have something playing. Anything to get his mind off the camera in front of him and the blinking red light. He knows his cheeks are flushed red from embarrassment, but the studio loved that. āYa look all innocent and shy... that gets lots of subscribers. Keep it up!ā
He rubs the back of his neck, glances up at the camera, and feels himself blush harder. The problem is heās just not in the mood, but if he doesnāt drop this tape in the mail today, heās gonna start really falling behind on his classes. And maybe he shouldnāt, because thatās what got him into this new line of work in the first place, but he canāt break a habit of a lifetime, so he closes his eyes and thinks what would dean do.
Tries not to feel shame as he pictures Dean in his position and his dick starts to take interest immediately. He strokes it lightly, teasing through soft cotton, enough so it plumps up to tent the fabric before sliding his hands up his chest, rubbing at his nipples until they stiffen.