Hell is Hallowed Ground

Because my brother is safe & Sound
Welcome, friends. You may call me Kansas. This is a blog for my anonymous Supernatural poetry and fiction. This is also a multi-shipping blog, and here you'll find an endless supply of Wincest, a dedicated amount of Sastiel and Destiel, as well as a smidgen of Samifer. Did I mention that I shamelessly support bottom!Sam? Enjoy. Sometimes I post personal opinions. If you don't like them, there's a door called the 'unfollow' button.




Touchin’

"Don’t worry, Sam - he won’t be touchin’ you again, that’s for damn sure," Dean growls softly, looking down at the dead shifter that’s currently wearing his face. This isn’t the first time he’s seen himself as a shifter before, though, that’s for sure.

Sam swallows hard, embarrassed and confused, as he tries to pull his jeans back up. He really thought all his fantasies were coming true - that Dean had suddenly showed up to Stanford, confessed his love to him - and God, they were about to…Christ. He shudders, blinking up at this other, older version of Dean, 

"You okay?" Dean eyes him warily, watching as his little brother tries to shimmy his jeans back on.

"I’m fine," Sam mumbles. He buttons his jeans, looks up. "If you’re…if you’re supposedly from ten years into the future, where’s…you know, my Dean? The one existing in my own time?”

Dean sighs. “He’s still with Dad, hunting things. C’mon - we need to get rid of this body, and then you’re going to stay with me at the motel tonight, alright? I’ll take you back here tomorrow.”

Sam licks his lips. “Dean…you don’t seem too concerned that I was about to have sex with you,” he finally mutters, his face flushing a little bit. “Or are we just going to ignore it?”

Dean smiles - predator-like, almost - and leans in, close to Sam’s ear. “Don’t worry, baby,” he whispers, voice velvety. “It happens. We’re together. And let me tell you…you scream so good for me when I’m poundin’ that tight ass of yours.”

Sam’s eyes widen comically, fingers stilling on his thighs, blush deepening. “W-What?”

Dean brushes some of Sam’s hair behind his ear, trailing his fingers over his jaw. “You heard me, baby boy…" He moves his fingers down, lightly brushes them over Sam’s crotch. "I give it to you real good. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll give you a little taste, huh?"

Sam suddenly surges up, messily kissing Dean, mouth sloppy against his, not quite sure how to move it.

Dean slowly sits down next to him, kissing him back, looping an arm around his waist. “God,” he groans when he finally pulls away. They really need to dispose of that body, but…

Sam’s breathing hard, looking up at him, fingers gripping Dean’s jacket. “Dean -“

Dean licks his lips. “You a virgin, Sammy?”

Sam flicks his eyes down. “Uh, yeah. Well, I wouldn’t have been, if you hadn’t saved me -“

"You ain’t gonna be one for long, then…" And Dean leans forward, gripping Sam’s back, kissing him long and hard.

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    Beautiful, fucking beautiful…
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