#WeeklyWritingWinner

In the same smooth move, he stuffs the ascot between Dean’s legs, letting it soak up his come leaking out of Dean. “Dude!” Dean’s head clears rapidly. “Gross!” Sam gives him a look of pure shock. “You calling me gross? You?” He rubs the ascot all over Dean’s rim. “You’ve been shooting into my towels since you learned how to jack off.” Well, that’s true. But Sam’s towels were just there, all soft and innocent. “Fresh jizz is good for your hair,” Dean argues, trying not to let on that the ascot’s soft fabric actually feels nice against his thoroughly fucked ass. Sam stares at him with almost serious eyes. “No, Dean, it’s not.” “Says who?” “Literally everyone.” Dean makes a pfft noise. Sam lets the soiled ascot fall to the floor. It’s fine; Dean will just run it through several laundry cycles. Possibly with Sam’s socks.

this week’s #WeeklyWritingWinner comes from a Scoobynatural coda where Sam finds a use for Dean’s ascot after they fuck in the Dean Cave.
(my friend called this snippet “true sibling behavior”)

Maybe he’d like it if their first time being together wasn’t with him half-dead and Dean half-out-of-his-head, but perhaps it’s the only way it could ever happen, despair loosening the tight taboos by which they had been bound. He doesn’t even remember why he thought it was a bad idea at all, Dean’s tongue in his mouth, Dean’s hand on his dick. They deserve each other. More than that, the world owes them to each other, after all it’s done to pull them apart, through lies and secrets and death itself. It hasn’t stopped, dragging Sam away even as Dean presses them together, fingers tight around them, refusing to surrender to anything but themselves. Their lives were never gifts from the universe but a set of duties and responsibilities too heavy for simple humans to bear, and yet that’s exactly what they did, and they’ve broken their backs more than once, and they keep doing it. Sam will complete the Trials. Dean will let him. They’ll challenge evil and they’ll win over it and their last breaths will be breathed in a fight. But first, Sam will learn how to breathe his brother’s air.

for this week’s #WeeklyWritingWinner have a wincest first time happening after s08e20 during the Trials because there can never be enough wincest first times

Healthy communication isn’t their style, and Dean accepts their new language of passion and tumult, disordered, barely structured, and yet crystal clear to both of them. His body asks and Sam’s responds, and as long as they can both read each other, it doesn’t matter what letters they use.

most of the candidates for this week's #WeeklyWritingWinner are spoilers, so have a simple little snippet of Sam and Dean getting together for the umpteenth time. yes, I love describing their first times. yes, I've done it 34 times now. yes, I will do it again.

“We do make a great team,” he says, and laughs, a little free sound he breathes into his brother’s hair. Dean straightens his leg, careful not to shift them too much, and lets out a deep, full-chest sigh. “Team Zero Chill,” he offers with a huff. He’s not wrong, not that Sam has to acknowledge it.

this week's #WeeklyWritingWinner is just Dean dishing out universal truth, context unnecessary.

“You’re a universe, Dean,” he says, with the patient ardor of a professor delivering a lecture on his favorite book. “You’re a world in a world.” He glides his hand around him down and up. “Fuck, you’re a whole library.” His fingers squeeze Dean just under the head. “What does he know? A couple paragraphs?” He thrusts in, deep and meaningful. “I’ve read you all.”

this week’s #WeeklyWritingWinner comes from a post-8x6 wincest WIP with jealous Sam doing his damnedest to make his brother realize Sam’s the only one for him.

(can you tell that I’m reading The Name of the Rose right now? yes, you can.)

“Fight me,” Sam offers, feverish, “fight me all you want, but I’m your stone number one, Dean.” He presses his lips to Dean’s, hard and militant. “And I’m not some monster.” Dean’s eyes flare in the dark. “Sure act like one.”

this week's #WeeklyWritingWinner comes from a post-8x6 wincest WIP where jealous Sam rains fury on Dean who is just so fucking tired.

“I’m here,” he says, a confession and an ultimatum. “I’m not going anywhere.” He skates his hands lower and digs his nails into Dean’s ass. “You’re not going anywhere.” Dean makes a sound like a cough and moves, fucking himself on Sam with something that could be anger or anguish or abandon, Sam doesn’t know which. He holds onto Dean’s rocking hips and lets his brother set the pace, the only thing he’s letting Dean choose from now on.

this week's #WeeklyWritingWinner comes from a post-8x6 wincest WIP with an enraged jealous Sam and his brother who has just tried running away to deal with "personal crap" again

Yes, as you’ve undoubtedly guessed, I overheard another one of their arguments. I didn’t get to hear what it was about—possibly some issues with their secret project, or maybe General Hux stepped on Lord Ren’s cloak, it’s really hard to tell what’s important to them on any given day.

you know what, screw them both, this week's official #WeeklyWritingWinner is this paragraph from Mitaka's author's notes to the RPF Kylux fic he's writing.

“You drink margaritas with all your girlfriends?” he shoots at Sam as he brings the glass to his lips. Sam’s eyes go wide, his mouth curling way too high up. “Did you just call yourself a girl?” Fuck. Dean puts the glass down and assumes his most scandalized face. “No.” Sam has never looked more triumphant, even when they beat Chuck. “You totally did.” So many things wrong with this conversation, Dean doesn’t know where to begin. “Shut up and drink,” he grumbles, leading by example. The margarita is damn good, which is a small comfort.

“Is he late?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at Dean who stares back, gone absolutely still, not a muscle moving, not even a tick of his jaw. “I don’t report to you.” He speaks through thin lips, sounds clipped and loathing. “Neither, for that matter, does Benny.” The name sends Sam’s nostrils flaring. “So you *are* waiting for him.” Dean closes his eyes for a moment, exhales loudly through his nose. “I’m not waiting for anyone.” The *‘not even you’* is implied so heavily, Sam almost falls over under its weight.

the situation with the #WeeklyWritingWinner selection is as follows: these two snippets were written on one and the same day and I can't choose between them (post-15x19 romcom vs. post-8x6 jealous angst)