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justinedelargeAuthor 
justinedelarge
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairing(s): Sam/Dean
Rating: R
Warning: Wincest (Sam is a few months shy of legal age)
Word Count: 4527
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Just for fun.
Summary: Ever wonder how Dean started talking dirty? The genesis is in the way Sam and Dean make their feelings for each other physical. This story has dirty talk, all the feels you can handle, infinite love and even a plot that develops into a nail-biting narrative, with the best kind of hurt/comfort
Chapter Summary Dean has to keep Sam safe and close. Bosie and Sam get a little closer than Dean likes. He reminds Sam that he belongs to Dean.
Sam had never seen Dean like this. Holding Sam as tight as he could, muscles taut.
Dean was terrified.
“Hey. What’s going on? What did Dad say?” Sam tried to keep his voice calm, to try to bring Dean down a notch.
“Said we had to be careful. He said…” Dean thought. He didn’t want to say too much before everyone got back. He didn’t want to lie to Sam either. “He said the demon might try to come here.”
Sam stiffened in his grasp. “Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Sam pulled away and scrutinized Dean’s face.
“Sam, I seriously don’t know.” Dean took Sam’s hand and pulled him upstairs to their room. He took the knives up from the bedside table, turning them in his hands, and handed Sam’s to him. “Put it on. Reggie says we have to have these on us at all times or within arm’s reach. At all times. No exceptions.”
Sam slipped the sheathed knife onto his belt. Dean did the same.
Sam sat on the bed, looking scared and miserable. “Dean.” He said his brother’s name like the feel of the word in his mouth was a comfort. “Why is this happening?”
“We’ll figure it out. I promise.” Dean sat on the bed, back to the wall, and pulled Sam against him between his knees, wrapping both arms around Sam’s chest. Sam stared at the doodles on his cast. Finally, his hand moved to the knife and he pulled it out of its sheath. He held it in his hand, turning the blade, watching the light move along the symbols etched into it.
Dean held Sam. Keeping him close. Keeping him safe.
~
Ultimately the demands of a teenage boy’s stomach won out over fear, at least temporarily. “I’m hungry.”
Dean rubbed Sam’s arms. “Ok. Let’s make some sandwiches.”
They went into the kitchen and Dean pulled out everything in the refrigerator that might be good in a sandwich: heaps of sliced turkey and ham, cooked bacon, cheese, pickles, onions, and so on.
Sam stared at it all. It was enough to feed a small army. “I want the other hunters in here with us.” The tone of his voice made it clear it wasn’t a question.
Dean knew this would force them to put on the “just brothers” act. And he knew how much Sam loved being able to just be with Dean without having to be hypervigilant about looking at Dean the wrong way, standing a little too close, doing something to give their secret away. Sam wanting to give up their private time like this meant that he was absolutely terrified. “Sure.” Dean nodded. “Safer that way.”
“You wanna get started on sandwiches for all of us? I’ll go get them.”
Dean shook his head. “I’m not letting you out of my sight for a second, Sammy. We go together.”
The tone of his voice made it clear this was not a suggestion. He wasn’t going to let Sam out of his sight under any circumstances.
That alone frightened Sam more than almost anything that had happened so far.
~
Sam and Dean went to the RVs, and explained to Zack, Bosie and Big Lou what little they knew about John and Reggie’s warnings about the demon. Their faces showed the same series of expressions that Dean’s had: shock, confusion, fear and resolve.
“We’d feel better if we knew you were in the house with us. Until they get back.”
“I’d feel a lot better too.” Zack smoothed back his long red hair into a ponytail.
They gathered their weapons and went back to the house with the boys. Inside, Sam and Dean laid out an assembly line to churn out enough sandwiches for everyone.
Bosie slipped in on Sam’s right. “I want to help.”
“Sure.” Sam pushed the packages of sliced meat and cheeses down the counter, and busied himself slicing red onion into nearly transparent rounds and pickles into thin slices.
Dean’s mouth tightened.
One thing common to nearly all hunters is few of them had strong food aversions, or if they did, they kept their mouths shut. You were lucky to get food at all, lucky to have survived another hunt, and any food was good food. So none of the people in the kitchen piped up with a request for some sandwiches without onion, or hold the mayo, or no pickles on mine. So the sandwich assembly line was simple. Dean slathered bread with mustard and mayonnaise, Sam laid down lettuce, onion, tomato and pickle, and Bosie put on the meat and cheese.
Bosie leaned across Sam to get to a package of salami he had neglected to slide her way, pressing her body against Sam’s side. Sam glanced down at her with a little smile.
The muscles in Dean’s jaw popped as he clenched his teeth. He knew they had to act like two normal brothers who were not in love with each other. And Bosie was a good cover. He knew Sam had to play along just a little, because it would have seemed weird and possibly suspect if he showed no interest in such a pretty girl. But it still stung.
Soon there was a stack of sandwiches on a giant platter. Bosie rummaged in the cupboards until she found a jar of powdered instant tea, and whipped up a pitcher with ice.
Dean was so not surprised when Bosie took the seat to Sam’s right. Dean settled into the chair across from them.
Bosie took a sip of tea. “I’m glad you had us come in.”
I just bet you are, Dean thought.
“Were you guys cold out there?”
“Not inside the RV. We’ve got propane space heaters. Pretty cozy, actually, when you’re inside.” Zack did not mention, of course, that they were mostly sitting outside keeping an eye out.
“It’s actually really nice inside ours,” Bosie chimed in. “I’ve got my own room, kinda. It’s the space above the cab. I can show you later.”
Dean’s fingers tightened on his sandwich.
“Maybe.” Sam looked across the table at Dean.
Dean kept his face placid. “Yeah, Sammy. Maybe she has some etchings to show you.”
Big Lou snorted, mouth full of sandwich. Bosie looked confused. “I don’t draw. But I do have this amazing ancient set of runes. Carved into bone.”
Sam’s face lit up. “Really? Anglo-Saxon?”
Bosie grinned. “Elder Futhark.”
Sam dropped his sandwich onto his plate. “No freakin’ way! How did you get them?”
Dean forced two sandwiches into his mouth, bite by bite, tasting none of it, while Sam and Bosie geeked out on runes, Tolkien and the I Ching.
The only thing keeping him in check was seeing how Sam’s face was no longer creased with fear and worry.
~
After lunch, Zack insisted that Bosie do her homework. He homeschooled her, because they weren’t able to stay in one place long enough. She stammered and protested, but he stood firm.
Bosie sat at the living room working on calculus. Zack and Big Lou were at the kitchen table, cleared of lunch, packing salt rounds. Sam and Dean were on the couch.
Dean threw his arm over the edge of the couch behind Sam. “Keep your geek ass right here, Sam. You’re not fucking helping her with her homework.”
Sam squirmed on the couch like an eager puppy.
“I know. It’s calculus. Your favorite.” Dean leaned in, bringing his mouth closer to Sam’s ear. “But I’m tired of seeing her hanging all over you, Sam. You’re mine.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Got it? Mine.”
Sam closed his eyes, letting Dean’s voice sink into him. “Yeah.”
Dean glanced at Bosie, struggling with a problem. “Poor kid. Already falling in love with you. At least she has good taste.”
Sam smiled at that.
“I wonder what she’d think if she knew how much you love how I make you come, Sammy.”
Sam choked, masking it with a cough.
“Are you ok?” Bosie looked up at Sam with concern.
“Yeah. Fine. Just… coming down with something, maybe.”
Dean kept his body position casual. “Yeah. Coming down with a case of Christ I need your cock in my mouth right now.”
Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, and his mouth parted involuntarily.
“Bet you’d like that right now, wouldn’t you, baby boy. Getting on your knees right here, unzipping my jeans, taking my cock out. Sliding the head over your lips. Feel how hard you get me.” Dean let his voice drop a little lower. “And you do. You get me so fucking hard. Just thinking about you. Sucking me off. “
Sam shifted in place, legs parting.
“God, I want to do that to you right now. Feed you my cock. You’re such a good little cocksucker, Sammy. Fucking gifted. And you love it, don’t you.”
Bosie kept working on her homework. Zack and Big Lou kept packing salt rounds. And Sam bit his lip and struggled to maintain composure with his dick straining against his jeans, unable to touch Dean.
“Yeah.” Sam’s voice was so soft only Dean could hear him.
Dean smirked, looking over at Bosie. He let his fingers stroke Sam’s neck. Sam jumped and stared at Dean in horror.
“Too much, baby boy? Can’t keep it together if I actually touch you?”
Sam’s breath, coming faster, answered that question for him.
“Ok. I’ll just talk then.”
Sam dropped his head against the couch with a groan.
And Dean did. He talked to Sammy, quiet and low, and all kinds of sweet/filthy. “Christ, wanna feel your mouth on me, suck me so good, just wrap my hands in your hair and pull your mouth onto my dick… right here, right now. Moaning ‘cause I taste so good, don’t I, sweetheart. Make you put on a real good show for her. Let her know exactly who you belong to. What you need.”
Sam dug his fingers into his thighs.
“Yeah, ‘cause she doesn’t have what you need, does she, Sammy.” Dean chuckled, low and wicked. “And even if she did, it wouldn’t be what you want, would it.”
Sam glanced at Dean, those spots of color in his cheeks bright red. He shook his head no.
“That’s right. You aren’t a cockslut. Just a slut for MY cock. Isn’t that right.”
Sam made a soft little sound, just for Dean.
“Bet you’d love a taste. Right now.” Dean dared to lean in closer, so close to touching Sam that he could feel Sam’s body heat radiating off him. “Bet you’d almost do it too, if I told you to. You want it that bad.”
Sam whipped his head around to stare at Dean, his eyes wide with a wordless plea. Pleading for him not to, or pleading for him to just fucking do it, neither of them was actually sure.
Dean clapped Sam on the shoulders hard. “Gotta drain the lizard,” he said in a loud, cheerful voice.
Bosie wrinkled her face. “Ew.”
Dean looked back over his shoulder at her. “Oops. Forgot there was a lady present. Um, I’m going to use the little general’s room.”
Sam pulled a pillow into his lap to hide his straining erection from Bosie.
Dean went around the corner toward the downstairs bathroom—and then stepped back into the hallway so that only Sam could see him.
He unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out.
Sam’s jaw dropped open.
Dean stroked the underside of his shaft with the pads of his fingers, in that way that made him crazy.
Sam turned on the couch so his back was partially turned to Bosie, so she could not see his face, stunned and helpless and so fucking turned on he couldn’t hide it a second longer.
Dean bit his lip, staring at Sam, eyelashes fluttering closed for a second with the keenness of the pleasure of it, then opening wide, his green eyes gone dark emerald. He fisted his cock while Sammy watched, unable to do anything but watch.
Sam dug his fingers into the pillow on his lap, staring at Dean leaning against the wall, gorgeous, thick cock in his hand, working himself harder now, mouth open, tongue darting out to lick across his lips. Dean mouthed, “Sammy...” and threw his head back, eyes clenching shut as he came, came hard all over his fingers.
Sam sat bolt upright.“Oh god.”
“What?” Bosie looked up. Dean was out of her range of vision, but Sam still flinched.
Sam thought fast.“Uh, spider.”
Bosie shot Sam a disappointed look. “Really?”
Sam played it out.“It crawled OVER me. So you know.”
Dean tucked himself back in quickly and zipped up. He walked back into the living room. “What, is my baby brother scared of spiders? Figures.” His eyes shone at Sam warmly.
He came around and stood in front of Sam, his back to Bosie. “Big bad hunter, scared of a daddy longlegs?” His voice was light, teasing and playful.
Dean held up his right hand, fingers gleaming with come.
Sam’s breath stopped, eyes darting over Dean’s shoulder to Bosie, just three feet away, nose back in her book.
Dean brought his wet fingers to Sam’s mouth.
Sam shuddered and sucked on Dean’s fingers, licking the come off them.
“Good boy,” Dean whispered.
Sam lapped at Dean’s hand, and when he’d gotten it all, he let his head fall back on the couch with a groan.
“You really don’t sound good, Sam.” Bosie started to get up, but Sam waved her back down.
“Yeah, I’m feeling really…”
“What you need, Sam, is bed. And plenty of it.” Dean’s mouth twitched.
Sam nodded. “You’re right.”
Dean called out to the men in the kitchen. “Hey guys, we’re going to be in our room for a while. Help yourself to whatever you need.”
Big Lou waved at Dean with two fingers. “Gotcha.”
Bosie brushed her hair over her ear. “I could, like, bring you some tea later.”
Dean shut that down immediately. “That’s nice of you, but I think we should just let Sam stay in bed for a good long time. I think that’s what he needs most right now.”
Sam’s face, bright with color, really did look feverish. “Dean’s right. Thanks, though.”
Bosie looked disappointed, but nodded her acquiescence. “Hope you feel better soon.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll feel a lot better as soon as I lay down.” Sam did a beautiful deadpan expression, looking ever so sincere. It took a huge force of will for Dean to repress a burst of laughter.
They barely got into their bedroom before Sam was all over Dean. “Easy there, tiger,” Dean whispered. “Gotta lock the door.”
Dean snicked the deadbolt shut, and when he turned around, Sam had already stripped off his shirt and was kicking his shoes off.
Dean stared in admiration at his Sammy as he set the knife on the bed and pulled his jeans off.
“You liked that, huh?”
Sam took Dean’s hand, brought it to his cock. It was so painfully engorged, Dean groaned in sympathy. “Poor baby boy.”
Sam seized Dean’s mouth in his, licked into his mouth, moaning. Dean stroked Sam’s cock slowly with his right hand, running his left down Sam’s back and onto the soft skin of his ass. Sam pushed his hips forward into Dean’s fist, then backward against Dean’s hand on his ass, making Dean’s fingers slip between the cleft, rocked forward again and back.
“Love you like this, Sammy. When you need me this bad.”
“Always. Always need you this bad, Dean.” Sam wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck, and fucked into Dean’s fist shamelessly, arching his back as he pushed into Dean’s hand, fingers circling Sam’s rim.
Dean stopped what he was doing, earning a reproachful look from Sam, and quickly grabbed up the little bottle of lube he’d stashed in the bedside table’s drawer. He poured a liberal amount into his left hand, flipped the bottle closed and tossing it on the floor, then smeared lube on the fingers of his right. “Come here, baby boy.”
Sam stood in front of him like he was before, and gasped when Dean slid his fist down his cock and slipped the fingers of the other hand down the crack of his ass.
“You need this so fucking bad.”
Sam moaned, nodding his assent.
“Need it from ME.”
“Just you. God. Just you,” Sam said in a whisper.
“Made me crazy, seeing you flirt with her like that.” Dean slid his fingers up and down Sam’s cock, so slowly, moving down lower and holding Sam’s balls, heavy and warm, in his hand.
He tugged gently. Sam pressed his mouth against Dean’s shoulder and gasped, open-mouthed.
“You’re mine. You understand?”
“Yours. Only you.” Sam pumped his hips, frantic for more sensation, but Dean held him, gave him only what he wanted to give him.
Dean circled the tips of two fingers along Sam’s tight little rim, pressing gently but not enough to penetrate.
Sam gave a soft cry.
“You gonna be able to keep quiet, sweetheart? Or am I going to have to gag you?”
Sam shivered.”I’ll be quiet,” he whispered.
Dean made tiny circles with his wet fingertips, fisted Sam’s cock slowly.
“Jesus, Dean… please.” Sam tried to fuck himself faster on Dean’s fingers, but Dean wouldn’t let him.
“This is what you get, Sammy. This is what happens when you flirt with someone right in front of my fucking nose.” Dean pressed his two fingers a little harder. Sam just opened to him, his body unable to hide how desperately it wanted Dean. “You tortured me all afternoon and I couldn’t do a damn thing about it. So I’m gonna torture you all night.” Dean chuckled. “And you aren’t going to be able to do a damn thing about it. Just take it.”
Sam moaned, helpless and sweet.
“Now get on the bed.”
Sam obeyed.
Dean pulled a chair up to the foot of the bed and tossed the little bottle of lube to Sam. “Now show me how bad you want it.” He sat back in the chair, fully clothed, his gaze devouring the sight of Sam completely naked and hard for him.
Sam stared at Dean, his shyness warring with his exhibitionistic streak.
“Come on, baby boy. Show me.”
Sam blushed so hard his entire face went red. But he drizzled his fingers with lube and spread his legs for Dean.
“Wider.”
Sam stretched his thighs open wider.
“Put your hand on your cock.”
Sam did what Dean told him, eyes fluttering closed.
“Uh-uh. Eyes open. Look at me.”
Sam swallowed, and obeyed.
“Keep going.”
Sam stroked his cock.
“Nice.” Dean swallowed. “That’s real nice, Sammy.”
Sam moved his hand down lower, tugged on his balls, biting his lip to hold back a moan. Emboldened by what he saw on Dean’s face, he brought his left hand up, ran the fingers over the head of his cock as he massaged his balls and perineum with his right.
“Jesus fucking Christ…” Dean moaned.
Sam started working his cock with his right hand, pinching his nipples with the other. “Is this good?” His voice was soft, unsure.
“Yeah. That’s real good. So fucking good.”
Sam switched to his left hand, pulled his right thigh back, stroking the underside of his leg, making these soft little moans that drove Dean crazy.
“Feels good, Sammy?”
“Mmmm…” Sam let his right hand wander lower, petting his hole.
“I like that. Keep doing that.”
Sam stroked and petted himself, stretching his legs even wider open.
Dean could not repress a groan, and palmed his hardening cock.
Sam licked his lower lip, brought both legs back, presenting his tight pink rim for Dean’s viewing pleasure, and stroked it with the fingers of both hands.
“Please… can I?”
Dean closed his eyes. “Gonna be the death of me.” He opened them again.”Can you what? Tell me what you want.”
Sam’s legs were splayed wide open, knees pulled back, entirely open to Dean’s view, but he still blushed harder at having to say the words. “Can I put my fingers inside?”
“Fuck. Yes. Do it.”
Sam breached himself with two fingers, just to the first knuckle.
Dean sucked in a deep, shuddering breath.
“Good boy.” He gripped the arms of the chair. “Now… deeper.”
Sam pushed his fingers in deeper. “God. Oh god. Dean.”
“That feel good?”
“Yeah,” Sam breathed.
“Come on, baby boy. Fuck yourself.”
Sam worked his fingers all the way inside his ass, and fucked them in and out. He started fisting his cock with his other hand.
“Uh-uh. Don’t want you coming yet. Just your ass. Just your fingers in your ass.”
Sam dropped his left hand to the bed with a whimper.
“Come on. Fuck yourself on your fingers. Harder. Show me.”
Sam stabbed his fingers inside of himself, spreading his ass wide open with his left hand, showing himself to Dean.
Dean let Sam writhe on his fingers for a good long time.
“You want my cock inside you?”
Sam shuddered. “Jesus Dean please, please, I want you so bad…”
“You sure? Sure I’m what you want? ‘Cause I can go get her. If you’d rather.” Dean’s eyes glinted, and Sam suddenly remembered that jealousy was called the green-eyed monster.
“I don’t want her. Don’t want anyone. Just you. Dean. Please. Just you. Oh god, Dean, please. I need you.”
With that, Dean was on his feet, stripping his clothes off as he came to Sam, flinging his shirt to the floor, kicking off shoes and jeans, barely retaining the presence of mind to put his knife on the end table before falling on Sam like a starving man.
“Say it.” Dean licked and bit at Sam’s neck.
“Oh god.”
“Say it, baby boy, or I won’t do it.”
“Fuck me.”
Dean suckled on Sam’s ear, making him arch his back and gasp. “Fuck you…where?”
Sam buried his face in Dean’s shoulder. He whispered, “Fuck my ass.”
Dean bit down on Sam’s earlobe. “Uh-uh. Look at me. Look at me and tell me what you need.”
Sam swallowed, chest heaving once, twice, then tipped his head up, and looked Dean in the eyes. “Please. Fuck my ass.”
Dean shuddered and took Sam’s mouth in his, kissing him hard, nipping and sucking at his lower lip. “Good boy. So good for me.” He lowered himself between Sam, lined himself up at Sam’s entrance, and pushed gently.
Sam pushed up, opening to Dean, stretching wide open around his cock, taking him inside in a smooth, steady motion.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam…” Dean’s voice was wrecked. He buried himself to the hilt, grabbed onto Sam’s sweat-slick shoulders, and tried desperately not to come on the first stroke.
Sam writhed, gripping Dean’s back, and begged, the words loosed from his mouth in a steady stream. “Please, oh god, please, fuck me, Dean, fuck me, need you so bad, come on, please, I need you, need to come for you, please let me come for you…”
Dean had planned to fuck Sam slow and deep for a long, long time before he let him come, planned to make him sweat and sob and beg so pretty for a long, long time before he wrapped his fingers around his baby brother’s cock and told him to come for him. He had planned so much.
But plans often go awry. And no man could resist Sammy’s breathless, desperate pleas, so hot and tight around him.
Dean pulled back and fucked into Sam hard, making Sam jolt beneath him with each thrust. “Ok, baby boy, come for me, come on my cock…”
Sam’s mouth opened, and Dean knew it, could see it all over Sam’s face that this orgasm was going to be a fucking earthquake, knew that Sam was not going to be able to hold back a scream.
Quickly, Dean sealed his mouth over Sam’s and swallowed the cries forced out of Sam as he wrapped his legs around Dean, hands scrabbling down his sweat-slick back, and broke apart beneath him, crying out over and over as the pleasure crested, kicked higher and then higher again, until Sam was actually screaming into Dean’s mouth.
And that, that moment, with his baby brother, the love of his life, his Sammy screaming out his pleasure into Dean’s open mouth, set off Dean’s orgasm, blasting through him like water punching through a crack in a dam, sweeping away everything in its path: the lingering anger at what John and Bobby had done that led to Sam being hurt, the terror that a yellow-eyed demon had actually been in the room with them that night, the same yellow-eyed demon that had pinned their mother to the ceiling and burned her up, the trivial but stinging pain of watching Sam having to play normal and flirt with Bosie, all swept away.
Just Sam.
Only Sam.
~
They fell asleep, locked in each other’s arms.
Dean did not dream. This time, it was Sam.
Sam awoke, gasping for breath, his knife clenched in his hand so hard his knuckles were white.
“Sammy?”
Dean went from dead sleep to wide awake in a second, reaching for his own knife with one hand, and Sam with the other.
Dean looked around the room, but saw nothing.
Sam struggled to breathe, to calm himself.
“Was something here?”
Sam shook his head no. He could not speak.
“Nightmare?”
Sam nodded furiously.
“Tell me.” Dean’s expression was serious.
Sam panted, holding up one hand in a gesture that meant, “Hang on.” He struggled for breath, panic building.
Dean lay back, pulled Sam against him, letting his ribcage open completely. He put the palm of his right hand flat against Sam’s solar plexus. “Plenty of air, Sammy. It’s ok.”
Sam drew a deep breath, and shuddered like it hurt.
“It’s ok.” Dean stroked Sam’s chest with his fingertips. “Breathe with me.” Dean breathed in, his chest rising beneath Sam’s back. Sam inhaled along with Dean.
“Now out.” Sam’s breath punched out of him fast, and he was gasping again.
“Breathe with me. Come on.”
Dean tried again. He drew a slow, deep breath. This time, Sam followed his pace better, letting his chest expand in tandem with Dean’s, exhaling more slowly.
It took 21 breaths before Sam was breathing calmly and deeply, right along with Dean on the inhale and exhale.
“Thank you.”
“I’d say any time but that scared the shit out of me, Sam.”
“I’m sorry.” Sam sat up.
“What did you dream?”
Sam shook his head. “It was… I was back in the warehouse. They were holding my head in the bucket.” He closed his eyes. “Dean. It was like… I was drowning. I mean, not just that my head was in the water and I couldn’t breathe. I was dying.”
Dean’s mouth twitched and his hands formed into fists.
“Spivey pulled me out, and waited until I’d almost caught my breath, and he did it again. And again. And the last time? When he pulled me out?”
Sam’s face was pale.
“It wasn’t Spivey any more. It was Dad.”
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no subject
Date: 2012-12-26 02:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-26 03:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-26 04:00 am (UTC)SGaDM 36
Date: 2012-12-26 06:37 pm (UTC)<3
no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 05:22 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-12-31 11:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-08-13 07:53 pm (UTC)Dean egging Sammy on after being hit by the green eyed monster was hilarious...and hot. :)
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Date: 2013-12-07 08:54 am (UTC)Jebus. That was just...oh my.
And that dream! I yelled "Monstrous!" at the screen.
That's cunning...very cunning. I like : ) x
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Date: 2013-12-07 05:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-21 03:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-12-21 04:48 pm (UTC)Seriously though, I'm not a sadist. It just comes up as I write, and I love the comfort part that comes after so, so much. I guess that's why.