How Many Times Can I Rewatch This

sam has always had a bit of an oral fixation

since he was a baby desperately wanting to feel the texture of things on his tongue

it was a struggle for dean to take away sam’s pacifier for good when he turned two

and then nearly impossible to break sam’s thumb-sucking habit before he started kindergarten

and even after sam got used to living without it, whenever sam had a particularly rough night or woke up from a nightmare, it was impossible for him to fall back asleep unless he had something to suck on. something that filled his desperately empty mouth, something he could feel with his tongue and play with until his nerves were soothed and he was grounded back into reality.

maybe it was their codependence and the fact that a lot of their questionable behavior was just normalcy between them, but throughout sam’s entire life he fell asleep and woke up wrapped up in his brother’s arms.

so naturally, it became routine for dean to simply offer his own fingers up as a calming chew toy for his baby-brother. he didn’t see the harm in it and mostly he just wanted the boy soothed enough to fall asleep after a particularly nasty nightmare.

dean always knows what sam needs and he’s always known about his brother’s primal desire to have something safe and soothing in his mouth when he’s in distress or winding down. and to sam, there’s nothing else in the world safer than dean and at least two of his older brother’s digits placed gently on top of his tongue. dean had once hated his father for insisting they take away sam’s pacifier when the boy so clearly depended on it and then had indulged sam’s thumb-sucking up until the threat of kindergarten and mean little kids had forced him to end the habit.

but what dean indulged sam with in the middle of the night was no one’s business, especially if sam’s rapid and anxious heart would so quickly slow down if dean simply lightly pushed the tips of his fingers against sam’s baby soft lips and watched as his brother urgently let them slip in beside his soft tongue. sucking at them eagerly with such yearning, and desperation until his body finally calmed down and he simply let the heaviness of dean’s fingers on top of his tongue and the fullness it provided lull him back to sleep.

how could dean deny sam something so simple as his fingers at night, when he would lay his body down on train tracks, go to the ends of the earth, kill and live for his brother. how can dean deny him safety and tenderness when the action also soothed dean as much as it soothed sam. the feeling of sam’s wet tongue dancing around whatever combination of fingers he had chosen to suck on that particular night. the soft pull he felt on his skin when sam would suck desperately at them or push them against the roof of his mouth or on top of his tongue.

dean loved being able to touch and memorize the entirety of sam’s mouth with the pads of his fingers. loved knowing his brother so intimately, so inside out. he secretly loved that sam never grew out of it. he loved getting to be the source of comfort that sam needed the absolute most. but what dean undoubtedly loved the most was the instant change in the noises that sam would make as soon as his fingers went inside that wet mouth. how he went from distressed screams or murmurs upon waking up from a nightmare to immediately making satisfied hums and grateful whimpers at the feel of dean in his mouth. the little pleasant rumble of sam’s needy and satisfied hums as he sucked and tongued at dean’s fingers. that’s what dean adored the most.

this makes me wanna kms ya’ll

jesus

thinking about:

sam locking himself in the bathroom with a book whenever he and dean have an argument. nowhere else to hide when you live in each other’s pockets. sam falls asleep in the bathtub, he’s been hiding in the bathroom all afternoon. (crying slightly because he hates fighting with dean.) dean picks the bathroom lock around midnight; their usual bedtime. he scoops a sleeping sam into his arms and away from the offending bathtub. kisses his face all over in apology. cheeks, temple, forehead, the corners of this mouth, nose, chin, and finally two petal soft presses of lips to each of sam’s closed eyelids. butterfly eyelashes of a slumbering brother tickling dean’s lips, but his actions effective in making sam’s eyes flutter open; waking the baby brother in his arms.

sam awakes with a soft preening whimper and a confused “dee?”. when he registers his big brother’s all too familiar arms around him, and the lingering sensation of dean’s kisses all over his face, sam tightens his arms around dean’s neck immediately. pulls himself impossibly closer to dean’s soft, comfortable chest with a needy whine as dean walks them back towards the motel beds. “i’m so sorry dee. not mad anymore. just want you.”

“shh.. you have me baby, i’m right here sammy. you didn’t have to worry. i would never go to bed without my little furnace, it’s cold out here- and in that bathtub you were brooding in.” dean would reply with a mixture of reassurance and humor as he fondly nuzzled sam’s nose with his own; a loving ezkimo kiss before lowering sam gently onto his bed. he quickly settles in next to him and pulls his heat-worm of a brother towards his chest with a possessive arm around a bony, baby soft waist. sam places a sleepy kiss right next to the amulet on dean’s sternum and then lifts his head slightly to nuzzle dean’s neck instead; sharing the natural warmth of his face with the cold, pale, freckled skin there. sharing the natural heat his body generated, offering the comfort and warmth that radiated out of his tan skin and soothing the goosebumps all over dean’s pale cold body. sam presses another exhausted, sloppy kiss to the expanse of dean’s neck, next to where his face is nuzzled and brings up a heavy-with-sleep arm up to cling to the amulet hanging from that same neck.

“i ‘ove you dee.” a sleepy soft whisper.

“ i love you too baby, so much.” dean would respond, his encompassing grip on sam would tighten bringing the lithe body so close that sam ended up being half on top of him. he places a feverishly affectionate kiss to sam’s hair in return to all the love his brother had just openly displayed to him; a quiet desperate mixture of “i’m sorry dean” and “i missed you so much.” and “i hate it when we fight”

insp.

party 4 u - charli xcx

party on you, part of you knew.

crying

sam has always had a bit of an oral fixation

since he was a baby desperately wanting to feel the texture of things on his tongue

it was a struggle for dean to take away sam’s pacifier for good when he turned two

and then nearly impossible to break sam’s thumb-sucking habit before he started kindergarten

and even after sam got used to living without it, whenever sam had a particularly rough night or woke up from a nightmare, it was impossible for him to fall back asleep unless he had something to suck on. something that filled his desperately empty mouth, something he could feel with his tongue and play with until his nerves were soothed and he was grounded back into reality.

maybe it was their codependence and the fact that a lot of their questionable behavior was just normalcy between them, but throughout sam’s entire life he fell asleep and woke up wrapped up in his brother’s arms.

so naturally, it became routine for dean to simply offer his own fingers up as a calming chew toy for his baby-brother. he didn’t see the harm in it and mostly he just wanted the boy soothed enough to fall asleep after a particularly nasty nightmare.

dean always knows what sam needs and he’s always known about his brother’s primal desire to have something safe and soothing in his mouth when he’s in distress or winding down. and to sam, there’s nothing else in the world safer than dean and at least two of his older brother’s digits placed gently on top of his tongue. dean had once hated his father for insisting they take away sam’s pacifier when the boy so clearly depended on it and then had indulged sam’s thumb-sucking up until the threat of kindergarten and mean little kids had forced him to end the habit.

but what dean indulged sam with in the middle of the night was no one’s business, especially if sam’s rapid and anxious heart would so quickly slow down if dean simply lightly pushed the tips of his fingers against sam’s baby soft lips and watched as his brother urgently let them slip in beside his soft tongue. sucking at them eagerly with such yearning, and desperation until his body finally calmed down and he simply let the heaviness of dean’s fingers on top of his tongue and the fullness it provided lull him back to sleep.

how could dean deny sam something so simple as his fingers at night, when he would lay his body down on train tracks, go to the ends of the earth, kill and live for his brother. how can dean deny him safety and tenderness when the action also soothed dean as much as it soothed sam. the feeling of sam’s wet tongue dancing around whatever combination of fingers he had chosen to suck on that particular night. the soft pull he felt on his skin when sam would suck desperately at them or push them against the roof of his mouth or on top of his tongue.

dean loved being able to touch and memorize the entirety of sam’s mouth with the pads of his fingers. loved knowing his brother so intimately, so inside out. he secretly loved that sam never grew out of it. he loved getting to be the source of comfort that sam needed the absolute most. but what dean undoubtedly loved the most was the instant change in the noises that sam would make as soon as his fingers went inside that wet mouth. how he went from distressed screams or murmurs upon waking up from a nightmare to immediately making satisfied hums and grateful whimpers at the feel of dean in his mouth. the little pleasant rumble of sam’s needy and satisfied hums as he sucked and tongued at dean’s fingers. that’s what dean adored the most.

i have prayed for days like this. they are all i think about when i listen to thoroughfare who tf is in my walls rn

thoroughfare - ethel cain