simp4sam22

[simp4sam22]

sam and dean are the blueprint for psychosexually obsessed brothers who create intricate apocalypses that allow them to touch each other

[simp4sam22]

Sam gently grabbed Dean’s hand after opening the bathroom door. Silently reassuring his brother that everything was okay. Dean nodded, finding comfort in Sam’s touch. He found that his anxiety was slowly fading, and that it didn’t hurt when his eyes landed on Sam’s lips. The younger boy caught it in an instant, air catching in his throat as he took the silent invitation. Inch by inch, the distance between them dissipated, and their lips finally touched.

Dean melted into it. Kissed him deep and yet so gently. A stark contrast from what just occurred on the bed. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s shoulders and kissed back tentatively. Something that didn’t make sense at all suddenly made all the sense in the world. Sam and Dean, they fit together, like nothing else ever would.

So when Dean pulled back to look down at Sam’s hazel eyes, he whispered, “I love you.” And they both knew then that it meant something entirely new. Something that should have been scary, but neither of them had room for fear in each other’s arms.

“I love you, too, De. Have for a while now.” Sam mumbled shyly. But then that shy look morphed into one of determination as his hand wrapped around Dean’s once more, leading him right back to bed.

No threat of punishment needed.

Need for punishment

(Weecest, wincest, spanking, smut)

~*~

Part One:

Dean couldn’t help but notice how much of a brat Sam had been after school. Sure, Sam had his moments, but it felt like he was suddenly making sure to hit all of Dean’s buttons. Coming home late, talking back, it was a lot for Dean to handle on his own.

Their dad was gone on a hunt, which meant Dean was in charge of Sam, of course. It was so much easier when Sam was younger and looked up to Dean. Something changed in the last year when Sam turned sixteen, he was spiteful every chance he got.

Finally, Dean had enough.

“Sam, what the hell is wrong with you lately?” Dean asked once Friday afternoon when Sam was being particularly shitty. The young man scoffed and shook his head.

“Nothing, Dean. Now fuck off.” Sam grumbled as he pulled his homework from his bag. Dean felt rage boil inside of him as he stood up and neared his little brother.

“Do not talk to me that way, Sam. It’s disrespectful.” Dean ground out. His nails dug into his palm as Sam laughed at that.

“What are you going to do? Spank me?”

It was like a lightbulb went off in Dean’s head. Of course, it was time for discipline. Dean stood tall over him, his eyes dark. And for a moment, he saw true fear flash over Sam’s features.

“Get up. Now, Sam.” Dean ground out. Sam visibly gulped at that but surprisingly did not argue as he made the short walk from the motel’s table to the bed closest to the wall.

Dean couldn’t help but find it odd that his brother wasn’t fighting him about it, but he couldn’t back down then. Sam needed to be taught a lesson.

Dean made his way over to his soundless brother and sat on the bed. Wordlessly, Sam draped himself over Dean’s lap. Soon after, Dean pulled Sam’s pants down to the middle of his thighs, so just his underwear was showing. Sam gripped the sheets in what Dean assumed to be was fear for what was to come.

The first strike was loud, but so was Sam’s gasp. Dean didn’t think much of it as the second one echoed through the room. And then another, and another, harder each time. Sam’s sounds didn’t let up.

Dean was confused. Sam didn’t sound like that when their father spanked him. In fact, he didn’t make a sound at all until it was over and he was silently crying to himself in the bathroom in whatever motel room they were in that day.

Dean pushed the thought away. He kept the same pace but on the other cheek, and without really meaning to slapped right on his thigh, on his bare skin. That made Sam’s noises turn from slight gasps to an outright moan.

That made Dean’s movements stop abruptly.

“Dean, please. I promise I’ll be good. Just… don’t stop.” Sam let out, his tone utterly breathless. And Dean knew full well that he should have stopped. He should have walked away from the situation so he clear his head and talk to Sam later about how fucked up that was.

But something in Dean snapped. There was a part of him that he had tried his best to keep buried, but it felt as though there was nothing he could do to stop himself in that moment. His hand raised and made contact with Sam’s underwear covered ass once more, but that time he made sure to grip Sam’s plumb little bottom.

“De,” Sam moaned as he rutted against his big brother’s lap. Dean cursed under his breath, his hand seemingly moving in its own as he pulled the younger man’s underwear down. His ass was red already, but Sam was begging for more. Dean obliged.

The pace of Dean’s strikes changed slightly. Harder, a little faster, his brain transfixed on the way Sam’s ass would jiggle slightly, barely registering the stinging in his palm. Sam made sure to ground down on Dean’s lap after each slap, just a few centimeters away from Dean’s own erection. But Dean didn’t care about his own release, not right then.

When Sam’s ass was a dark red that looked just about ready to bruise, Dean’s strikes softened, much to Sam’s dismay. But it turned into him pulling those cheeks apart, his own groan sounding almost like a growl as he finally laid eyes on that tight little pucker.

Sam’s sounds of disappointment turned into pure excitement after that. “Yes, De, please. Touch me. Want you in me.” Sam arched his back slightly, showing off just a little bit more, as though Dean needed more convincing.

Dean spit right down onto the little hole and circled a single finger around the entrance. After a couple teasing spanks to the opening, Dean finally breached through.

“Dean!” Sam yelped, and Dean moaned under his breath as he felt those tight walls around his finger. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel around his cock. How it’d feel to have Sammy pressed against the mattress, cock filling him to the brim. Sam begging, crying, for more.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean breathed as he watched as his finger moved in and out, entranced by the way it looked as though Sam was sucking him in. Like his body was born for it. Born to be fucked by Dean.

“More, Dean. Please.” Sam begged, and Dean didn’t need to be asked twice. Two fingers were in Sam, and the younger boy was bucking his hips back into them. Dean scissored his fingers and he knew by Sam’s loud, broken moans that he had found his prostate.

It was as though Sam couldn’t form words, because if he could, he surely didn’t use them to let Dean know that he was coming. All he could do was hump erratically against his big brother’s thigh, his cum covering Dean’s pants.

Dean let Sam ride out his orgasm, but the moment Sam finally stilled, boneless across his lap, he removed his fingers. Sam whimpered slightly at the loss but it was a weak sound, like he didn’t have the energy to beg for more.

The older Winchester was reeling. He couldn’t believe he had done that. Dean got up from the bed with some complaint from Sam that he tried his best to ignore and went to the bathroom.

One look at his reflection scared him. His eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed. He was still so hard that it hurt. The guilt he had was slowly taking over any desire he had, however. This was his little brother for God’s sake.

And when he heard Sam knock on the bathroom door, he wasn’t sure if he should open the door at all. But as his feet moved, he knew there would be no point it fighting it. What ever was going to happen when he opened that door was going to happen regardless.

With a deep breath, Dean opened the door,-

~*~

[simp4sam22]

Anything for you, Sammy.

Sam knew what he was doing when he looked up at Dean with his puppy dog eyes and asked for help. His big brother would do anything for him, Sam knew that. But he didn’t miss the way Dean’s cheeks turned red when Sam asked him to please show him how to kiss. He had told Dean he had never kissed anyone before, that he needed help before he could kiss the girl that liked him.

Which was a lie. There was no girl that liked Sam, and he had kissed someone before. Just once. It wasn’t good by any means, but Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that Dean could do it so much better. And it was that thought that finally prompted him to ask.

“Come on, De. It’s not weird. Just show me how it’s done. I just know you have some tricks you could show me.” Sam said, his smile sweet as he looked over his brother’s unsure form.

Dean’s freckled cheeks were bright red as he breathed out, “fine.” They sat at the end of the motel’s bed, Sam looking up at Dean patiently.

The older boy looked down at him, his green eyes falling to Sam’s lips. “Well, first. You’ll want to touch her face like this.” His hands cautiously made their way to Sam’s warm cheeks, and the younger boy tried his best to stifle a gasp at how tender the gesture was.

“Then, just… lean in… like this.” Dean whispered as his he inched closer. Sam’s heart hammered in his chest as he tried his best not to close the distance himself. He couldn’t help the long exhale of breath at the feeling of their lips finally touching.

It was a soft peck at first, the gentlest of touches. “Gotta take your time with it, Sammy.” Dean mumbled as he went in with more feather soft kisses. Sam tried his best to mimic the movements. All he could think about was how soft Dean’s lips were. He never wanted to stop kissing them.

And when Dean finally did stop, It took everything in Sam not to whine in disappointment. Dean’s blush had spread to the tips of his ears. He struggled to keep eye contact with Sam, his hands falling onto the mattress.

“Good job.” Dean gave, his tone shaky. Sam licked his lips and gave a weak nod at the compliment.

“Thanks, Dean. But what about… what about the other kind of kissing? Like with tongue? What if, uh… what if she wants to do that? I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” Sam rambled, hoping to god Dean would take the bait.

Dean sat silently for a moment, his fingers absentmindedly circling the blanket. Sam could hear his heartbeat in his ears and was just about to say never mind, but Dean finally broke his silence.

“Okay. I got you, Sammy.” Dean sighed as he got back into position. “It usually starts off the same. Take things slow. Get her comfortable. Then little by little, she’ll open up for you. Let me show you, okay?”

Sam nodded, tried his best not to look too excited, but he was. He couldn’t help that he met Dean halfway, their lips touching making Dean stiffen in surprise for just a moment. But soon enough the moment passed, and Dean’s hands were on Sam’s face again, kissing him nice and slow.

And just like Dean said, Sam opened up for him, and then their tongues met. Dean’s hands lowered to Sam’s waist, pulling him closer. Sam couldn’t help but moan, the sound making Dean grip his shirt tightly. But he didn’t stop. His tongue ravaged Sam’s mouth and all the younger boy could do was moan, his own grip tight on Dean’s collar.

Sam whined when Dean had to pull away to breathe, not wanting it to end, not wanting Dean to be upset with him. But Dean didn’t look mad. He looked absolutely disheveled with his red face and lust blown eyes.

“Fuck.” Dean cursed as his thumb moved over Sam’s spit slick bottom lip. “You’re a natural, baby bro.” He breathed out with a shake of his head. Like he couldn’t believe it.

“Dean, I don’t know, I think I need to practice some more.” Sam smirked up at his brother, who surely could tell by then that it was all a ruse. Dean licked his lips and nodded.

“Anything for you, Sammy.”

[simp4sam22]

dean winchester 1x14 ✩ shadow

[simp4sam22]

💛💛💛

[simp4sam22]

you are jeff, richard siken

[simp4sam22]

the verdict is in: it’s still gay even if he’s ur brother

[simp4sam22]

➤ Supernatural | Sam & Dean Celebration Week Day Two || Scenes that represent Sam and Dean’s relationship

[simp4sam22]

Sam & Dean Celebration Week → Day 2: Scene that represents the most Sam & Dean relationship “I’ll take a jacked-up Dean Winchester over any 10 other Hunters any day.”

[simp4sam22]

Need for punishment

(Weecest, wincest, spanking, smut)

~*~

Part One:

Dean couldn’t help but notice how much of a brat Sam had been after school. Sure, Sam had his moments, but it felt like he was suddenly making sure to hit all of Dean’s buttons. Coming home late, talking back, it was a lot for Dean to handle on his own.

Their dad was gone on a hunt, which meant Dean was in charge of Sam, of course. It was so much easier when Sam was younger and looked up to Dean. Something changed in the last year when Sam turned sixteen, he was spiteful every chance he got.

Finally, Dean had enough.

“Sam, what the hell is wrong with you lately?” Dean asked once Friday afternoon when Sam was being particularly shitty. The young man scoffed and shook his head.

“Nothing, Dean. Now fuck off.” Sam grumbled as he pulled his homework from his bag. Dean felt rage boil inside of him as he stood up and neared his little brother.

“Do not talk to me that way, Sam. It’s disrespectful.” Dean ground out. His nails dug into his palm as Sam laughed at that.

“What are you going to do? Spank me?”

It was like a lightbulb went off in Dean’s head. Of course, it was time for discipline. Dean stood tall over him, his eyes dark. And for a moment, he saw true fear flash over Sam’s features.

“Get up. Now, Sam.” Dean ground out. Sam visibly gulped at that but surprisingly did not argue as he made the short walk from the motel’s table to the bed closest to the wall.

Dean couldn’t help but find it odd that his brother wasn’t fighting him about it, but he couldn’t back down then. Sam needed to be taught a lesson.

Dean made his way over to his soundless brother and sat on the bed. Wordlessly, Sam draped himself over Dean’s lap. Soon after, Dean pulled Sam’s pants down to the middle of his thighs, so just his underwear was showing. Sam gripped the sheets in what Dean assumed to be was fear for what was to come.

The first strike was loud, but so was Sam’s gasp. Dean didn’t think much of it as the second one echoed through the room. And then another, and another, harder each time. Sam’s sounds didn’t let up.

Dean was confused. Sam didn’t sound like that when their father spanked him. In fact, he didn’t make a sound at all until it was over and he was silently crying to himself in the bathroom in whatever motel room they were in that day.

Dean pushed the thought away. He kept the same pace but on the other cheek, and without really meaning to slapped right on his thigh, on his bare skin. That made Sam’s noises turn from slight gasps to an outright moan.

That made Dean’s movements stop abruptly.

“Dean, please. I promise I’ll be good. Just… don’t stop.” Sam let out, his tone utterly breathless. And Dean knew full well that he should have stopped. He should have walked away from the situation so he clear his head and talk to Sam later about how fucked up that was.

But something in Dean snapped. There was a part of him that he had tried his best to keep buried, but it felt as though there was nothing he could do to stop himself in that moment. His hand raised and made contact with Sam’s underwear covered ass once more, but that time he made sure to grip Sam’s plumb little bottom.

“De,” Sam moaned as he rutted against his big brother’s lap. Dean cursed under his breath, his hand seemingly moving in its own as he pulled the younger man’s underwear down. His ass was red already, but Sam was begging for more. Dean obliged.

The pace of Dean’s strikes changed slightly. Harder, a little faster, his brain transfixed on the way Sam’s ass would jiggle slightly, barely registering the stinging in his palm. Sam made sure to ground down on Dean’s lap after each slap, just a few centimeters away from Dean’s own erection. But Dean didn’t care about his own release, not right then.

When Sam’s ass was a dark red that looked just about ready to bruise, Dean’s strikes softened, much to Sam’s dismay. But it turned into him pulling those cheeks apart, his own groan sounding almost like a growl as he finally laid eyes on that tight little pucker.

Sam’s sounds of disappointment turned into pure excitement after that. “Yes, De, please. Touch me. Want you in me.” Sam arched his back slightly, showing off just a little bit more, as though Dean needed more convincing.

Dean spit right down onto the little hole and circled a single finger around the entrance. After a couple teasing spanks to the opening, Dean finally breached through.

“Dean!” Sam yelped, and Dean moaned under his breath as he felt those tight walls around his finger. He couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel around his cock. How it’d feel to have Sammy pressed against the mattress, cock filling him to the brim. Sam begging, crying, for more.

“Fuck, Sammy,” Dean breathed as he watched as his finger moved in and out, entranced by the way it looked as though Sam was sucking him in. Like his body was born for it. Born to be fucked by Dean.

“More, Dean. Please.” Sam begged, and Dean didn’t need to be asked twice. Two fingers were in Sam, and the younger boy was bucking his hips back into them. Dean scissored his fingers and he knew by Sam’s loud, broken moans that he had found his prostate.

It was as though Sam couldn’t form words, because if he could, he surely didn’t use them to let Dean know that he was coming. All he could do was hump erratically against his big brother’s thigh, his cum covering Dean’s pants.

Dean let Sam ride out his orgasm, but the moment Sam finally stilled, boneless across his lap, he removed his fingers. Sam whimpered slightly at the loss but it was a weak sound, like he didn’t have the energy to beg for more.

The older Winchester was reeling. He couldn’t believe he had done that. Dean got up from the bed with some complaint from Sam that he tried his best to ignore and went to the bathroom.

One look at his reflection scared him. His eyes were dark, his cheeks flushed. He was still so hard that it hurt. The guilt he had was slowly taking over any desire he had, however. This was his little brother for God’s sake.

And when he heard Sam knock on the bathroom door, he wasn’t sure if he should open the door at all. But as his feet moved, he knew there would be no point it fighting it. What ever was going to happen when he opened that door was going to happen regardless.

With a deep breath, Dean opened the door,-

~*~

[simp4sam22]

currently thinking of baby sammy using this, cuz it makes dean go feral

♡♡

[simp4sam22]

“Now maybe those bitches will leave you alone.” Dean’s voice was honey over gravel. “That’ll show them you’re taken, baby boy.” He held Sam’s neck steady, admiring his handiwork. “That you’re mine.”

“Yours,” Sam whispered, breathing coming faster.

“That’s right, sweetheart. You’re mine.” Dean unbuckled his pants and stripped bare, then lay over Sam, sucking and nipping at the dark red marks he’d left on Sam’s neck, reveling in how Sam whimpered but extended his neck for more. "Gonna show you who you belong to.“

“Show me, Dean.” Sam lay back, letting his thighs fall open. “Show me hard.”

Dean chuckled, a soft sound of amusement against Sam’s neck. “You let them flirt with you on purpose, didn’t you, you little shit.”

Sam said nothing, but smiled to himself as Dean set about showing Sam who he belonged to.

Showing him nice and hard.

[simp4sam22]

“Happy 4th of July, Sammy.”

Happy Independence Day, and to all of my non-American followers, Happy Excuse for Wincest Day!

[simp4sam22]

There would be times when they were alone together in the motel room, arms wrapped around each other, drunk on each other lips and they would talk about running away, getting away from this life and starting one of their own.

They would look at the maps that were pinned up on the walls, ignore the thumb tacts pressed in at different locations marking the place of another fallen innocent soul that was taken by the filth that hid in the shadows.

“Pick any place, Sammy.” Dean would whisper in Sam’s ear, coming up behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, his lips on his neck. “Pick any place and we’ll go there.”

And Sam would place his finger on a random place on the map, a town by a name that they would soon forget and Dean would cover Sam’s hand with his own and imagine of a world where he could run off with his brother.

[simp4sam22]

An AU where society looks on parenting differently. Parents are expected to keep their children in line, and "Spare the rod, spoil the child" is taken seriously and literally. Parents are reported for neglect if their children DON'T show up to school regularly with belt, switch, or cane marks on their rear ends. At least until they're about 16. But John is still a hunter, and is often gone. He gives them bi-weekly whippings while he's there (if they haven't done anything to earn it, then he lets them know it's just to keep CSD off their backs) but especially after Dean turns 16, he can be gone for weeks at a time. So then it falls on Dean to make sure Sam has the expected marks. But they have their own way of going about it. With John it's very clinical and down-to-business, but Dean will pile up the pillows for Sam to lay over. He first spends a little time rubbing his back to loosen his muscles, and when he starts spanking him they're soft strikes at first. He gradually builds up the intensity until Sam is moaning and his butt is blushing a bright red. "You ready Sammy?" he'll ask, and Sam will nod, gripping the sheets tightly. That's when Dean slides his belt from its loops. Sam holds very still for him, only letting out soft gasps when the belt strikes his skin. Every five strikes or so Dean pauses to gently rub the new welts, drawing more moans from his brother. He has to make sure to hit some of the same places several times just to make sure he'll have some impressive bruises, but Sammy doesn't seem to mind. In fact sometimes Sam even eggs him on a bit, "Come on Dean. Don't be a pussy, give it to me good!" sticking his butt up even more, practically inviting the kiss of the belt. Dean doesn't disappoint him, laying on several heavier strokes until he hears Sam cry out in pain. When it's finally over they lay on the bed on their sides, Dean snugged up close behind Sam and slowly rubbing his stomach while Sam sniffles and basks in the feel of his brother surrounding him. And as they get a bit older, sometimes one or both of them will get hard, but neither one says anything about it. Though that first time Dean's hand drifts down lower it's met with encouraging noises from Sam, and if he ruts himself off against Sam's ass while stroking his brother's cock, well, neither of them seems to mind. Sam kind of hopes he can talk Dean into continuing this even after he turns 16. (Just thought you could use a fun imagine to lighten your day. 💜)

Oooo, with John the beatings are just that: a beating, and Sam can enjoy it in a detached sort of way. But Dean makes it special for him, warms him up maybe with a few slaps of his bare hand that are more noise than pain, gentle caresses on Sammy's ass and back, and the first time he has to take over because "the marks are fading, Dean, they're gonna call CSD if I don't get whipped soon" Dean's hand is shaking with each strike but the sounds Sam makes echo in his head, like something buried deep is unfolding with each yelp and whimper and moan.

Cuddle time is an important part of their ritual and they don't know yet to call it aftercare. When Dean can cradle Sammy in his arms, safe against his chest. When Sam can let the feelings that overwhelm him each time Dean takes a strap to his ass settle into a warm sense of "cared for." When Dean can nuzzle at Sam's hair, and who knows if the little kisses he presses there (and on Sammy's ears and jaws and cheeks and teasing at the corners of his mouth) start before or after that first half-guilty handjob.

What about when Dean goes too hard? When he was there to pick Sammy up from school, and they're not quite due for another session but they're each itching for it, and Sam's walking out of the school next to someone pretty and pink and female, and Dean sees red and Sam doesn't realize until they're back at the motel and Dean shoves him roughly onto the bed. Sam looks up at Dean and the question dies on his lips, all he can do is let it happen and the pain is more intense than ever but he's still gasping, panting, pushing up for each hit of Dean's belt even as he sobs over how fucked up he is. It's the sound of Sam's sobs mixed with the insanely hot moans that snap Dean out of it and when he sees the damage - mottled bruises, lines and stripes beaded with blood where the edges of the belt bit into tender flesh - he feels like a monster, but Sam asks "why'd you stop?" in a broken whisper and Dean collapses. Wraps his arms around Sam's skinny thighs and back, keeping him bent with his ass pointed up, and starts kissing each mark he left, as if he can really kiss it better.

When he starts, each kiss is an apology, a promise to keep control in the future, but when he ends Sam's hole is slick with spit and Sam's begging for more. Begging to cross a line that neither have dared push against, and Dean can't do anything but agree and sink into heaven.

[simp4sam22]

If you don’t like the brother’s codependency just remember that they would let you die to save each other anyway. 

[simp4sam22]

so smol yet such pout. (💕FOS!verse on AO3💕)

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