#supernatural fics | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inthemytdl · 8 months

Text

Somewhere Only We Know

“Is it okay if I sit here?”

The whirl of wind trumped the gentle voice of the boy beside you. He wore a letterman jacket. A yellow hue reflected off its stripes from the street light next to the bus stop.

“What?”

“Oh, sorry.” He raised a jazz hand. “I’m Jack. I’ve noticed people here like to claim benches. Is it okay if we share?”

You shrugged then scooched over. Your phone lit up with the time as you moved. The bus would arrive soon. After that was one long trip to nowhere. You’d figure it out on the way there. That was part of the adventure.

“Where are you going?” Jack’s cheerful voice startled you.

You rubbed cold arms. “Nowhere.”

“Right. You don’t know me.” He faced you, lowered his head. “I promise I’m not a serial killer.”

“Didn’t think so.” You studied him for a lingering moment. He looked too young to be some psycho killer but was lanky enough you could beat him in a fight if he was. “Where are you going?”

“I don't know.” He tilted his head toward the sky. “Wherever the bus takes me?”

“Nebraska.”

“There. I’m going there.” Jack smiled, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him Nebraska was just… Nebraska. “Are you cold? Here. Have my jacket.”

“What? No.” You swatted his hand away.

“It’s fine,” Jack said. “I don’t get cold.” He placed his jacket on your shoulders then returned to his dreamy state, practically drooling.

You were staring at him now, but he didn’t seem to mind. The gap between his teeth broke through his smile; his bright eyes lit up in the street light, the yellow hue reflecting off his irises now. He had this innocent look, like all the pain and despair of the world couldn’t hurt him. Not now, at least. Right now, all that mattered was Nebraska.

“I’m running away,” you blurted. “Sort’ve.”

Jack’s smile broke. “Why would you do that?”

“Well, it’s not running, really. I’m old enough to take care of myself. I’m just going on an… adventure.”

“I like adventures.” His smile was back. That gap in between his teeth.

The bus parked in front of you. It was empty, aside from a few scattered passengers. The doors opened. The driver made eye contact.

“Do you want to go on an adventure with me, Jack?” you asked.

He pressed a thumb on the dip of his chin. His hair blew into his face. “I’m not sure,” he said.

A pin dropped in your stomach. You spent five minutes talking and jumped straight to fifth base: asking him to travel with you. You didn’t even know him, really. He could’ve been a serial killer, a really nice one. And if he wasn’t, he must’ve thought you were weird now.

Jack inhaled a swift breath and released it with a sigh. “Are you a serial killer?” he asked.

“What?” you laughed. “No, of course not. I’m Y/n.”

“Then yes. I would like to go on an adventure with you, Y/n.” He pushed up from the bench and that lulling smile on his face met yours.

A warm heat encompassed you as you stepped onto the bus. Jack took the cushioned seat next to the window and looked out at the night sky. You took the aisle seat.

The bus shook as the engine rumbled to life. You were going to Nebraska. The land of farms, corn, prairies, and the occasional city. You could picture it now—the petrichor smell of wet grain, the bright lights illuminating cities—and while you weren’t sure if you’d stay, you were ready for your next adventure. And happy it wouldn’t be alone.

Jack traced a smiley onto the condensated window glass before relaxing into his seat. "I've never been on a bus before," he said.

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

Trees flew by as the bus began to move and you became more comfortable with Jack. You had only just met him but traveling together felt right. And you weren’t sure what he was leaving behind, but were glad to have him by your side.

You took Jack’s hand in yours, startling him a bit, and said, “Next stop, Nebraska.”

#jack kline #jack kline blurbs #jack kline x reader #jack kline fics #jack kline x yn #supernatural fics #jack kline oneshot #spn fics #jack winchester #jack kline imagine #supernatural fanfiction

239 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 24 days

Note

hello hello! I was wondering if you had any winged aus tucked away? the latest post I could find (though goodness knows tumblr’s search feature is iffy) was from 2019 and I was curious about an updated list if it isn’t too much trouble!

Hey Lovely!

You are correct, it's been a LONG time since I've put a new list together... I don't have any new personal recs (been a LONG time since I've read them), so what I'm going to do is do a tag search on my MFL list and put together a nice fresh list of fics suggested to me by you guys! Please note that I have NOT read any of the fics on this list so I'm probably wrong somewhere, LOL. They're not ALL winglock, for sure, but if anyone has anything relevant that they can add to this list, please do! Enjoy!

WINGLOCK / ANGELS / DEMONS Pt. 2 (MFLs)

See also:

Winglock / Angels / Demons (Updated Apr 2022)

Sherlock x Good Omens Crossovers (Updated Apr 2022)

The Detective and the Demon by oreganotea (G, 2,389 w., 1 Ch. || Supernatural Elements || Pre-Slash, Urban Fantasy, Demons, Humour, Friendship) – “Every demon on record is described as either monstrously terrifying or breathtakingly beautiful,” Sherlock says. “I have never heard of a demon with a forgettable face and a propensity for ugly jumpers.” The demon looks down at his jumper. Okay, so it might not be the most flattering article of clothing in the world, but it sure looks a hell of a lot more comfortable than Sherlock’s two-sizes-too-small shirt.

The Babadook by CatieBrie (T, 6,886 w., 1 Ch. || Babadook Fusion || Post-TRF, Horror, Demonic Possession, Violence, Halloween, Grief, Angst with Happy Ending) – “A children’s book,” John mutters as he flips it open. The pages are scrawled with beautiful charcoal lines and thick black ink. The cover, bright red, edges the open pages and something tugs at the back of John’s brain. It’s a familiar feeling, black and tarrish and thick in his thoughts. He shakes it off and picks the book up off his bed, turning so that he can sit on the edge and spread the book out across his knees. If it’s in a word or it’s in a look, you can’t get rid of the Babadook. He turns the page, ignoring the pressure building beneath his chest. There’s a closet on one page; paper doors meant to be opened by the reader flutter as John reads the text on the other page.

In The Arms Of The Angel by Watermelonsmellinfellon (M, 8,585 w., 3 Ch. || Fallen Angel AU || Friendship, Angels/Wings, BAMF John, Trust, Fluff, Romance, Eventual Happy Ending) – The human population possesses the ability to grow feathers from their spines, but less than even five million at a time ever actually grow any. A feather for a life. Every life saved, earned a feather. The feathers would overlap each other, until there was finally enough to create a wing and if some were lucky, two wings.

The Soldier And The Demon by LipstickDaddy (G, 8,998 w., 6 Ch. || Victorian / Demon AU || Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Soldier John, Demon Sherlock, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Protective John, Protective Sherlock, Happy Ending) – Johnlock/Kuroshitsuji AU - 1879. Captain John H Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers is dying from a near-fatal gunshot wound in the Kandahar desert; until a demon saves his life. There’s a catch, though; one day, his saviour will eat his soul.

You Don't Need Wings to Fly by Laiquilasse (T, 11,326 w., 11 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Bullying, Angels, Suicidal Ideation, Christmas) – John, an angel, is sent from Heaven to help a desperate Sherlock Holmes by showing him what life would have been like if he had never existed.

Tattered by SrebrnaFH (M, 15,857 w., 6 Ch. || Winglock || Family, Childhood, Society, Abuse, Electricity, Hurt John / Sherlock, Protective John, No Smut, Bullying, Sudden Relationship Change) – John visits Baker Street without any warning and gets an eyeful.

On Feathers and Bacon Sandwiches by Kryptaria(T, 21,092 w., 8 Ch. || Winglock AU || Demon John, Asexual Sherlock) – No one has ever stayed with Sherlock longer than a month. At least, no human. Fortunately, John Watson isn't about to let the little things - like biohazardous experiments and the constant threat of danger - get in the way of his friendship with a very special, very brilliant man like Sherlock Holmes. Part 1 of Feathers 'verse

The 13th Book by meet_me_in_samarra (T, 24,491 w., 13 Ch. || Magical Realism Winglock AU || Enemies to Friends, Friendship, Witty Banter, Interspecies Bromance, Demon Sherlock) – Summoning a demon was actually quite simple if you could avoid getting killed in the process. Therefore, only the powerful, the desperate or the stupid would attempt it. John Watson was likely the first, definitely the second but hopefully not one of the third kind.

This Is Family by SaraStarchild (T, 39,840 w., 16 Ch. || Hereditary AU || Psychological Horror, Body Horror, Demonic Possession, POV Third Person Limited, Protective Mycroft, Cults, Mycroft Whump, Sherlock Whump, Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Retelling) – When the Holmes family's secretive mother and matriarch, Ellen Holmes, passes away, the family she leaves behind – father Martin, sons Mycroft and Sherlock, and daughter Eurus – begins to unravel cryptic and increasingly terrifying secrets about their ancestry. The more they discover, the more they find themselves trying to outrun the sinister fate they seem to have inherited. This is, pretty much, a word-for-word retelling of the 2018 Ari Aster film, Hereditary. Part 1 of Sherlock Halloween Stories

Though the brightest fell by BeMyGoldfish (M, 41,243 w., 7 Ch. || Celestial AU || Post THoB, Soulmates, Guardian Angels, Demons, Mystrade, Background Johnlock) – In his office, Mycroft (the Archangel) tries to recruit Greg (the ‘ex-angel’ mortal) on a celestial mission to save Sherlock from what he wants most. "This is some elaborate joke cooked up by your brother as revenge for me not asking him to help on the Islington Exsanguinations, isn't it? How did he get you in on it, Mycroft? Did he hide your trouser press? Or threaten to expose your secret ciggie habit to your mum? This isn't funny. It's weird and obscure, but it is not funny.”

Trapped by Gem_Gem & harrylee94 (M, 41,311 w., 3 Ch. || Demon John AU || Demon John, Mild Gore, POV Sherlock, Mild Homophobic Language, Kiss, Bonding) – During his most recent case, Sherlock finds himself in the hands of the very people he had been trying to pursue. This mistake lands him in a cell, already occupied by a strange man who calls himself John. But who is John? And why does he look so... hungry? Part 3 of the Bonded by Words Stories series

Murderous Imprint by MojoFlower (E, 52,634 w., 24 Ch. || Winglock || Organ Theft, Imprinting, First Kiss / Time, Whump, Torture, Blow Jobs, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Case Fic, Magical Realism) – Sherlock should be focusing on the series of brutal vivisections Lestrade has brought to him. Instead he's distracted by a most amazing and unexpected experimental opportunity from the basement apartment of 221C. Will he figure out the one in time to stop the other? And does he need help in order to do it? Part 1 of the Hatch series

Not English But Angels by orphan_account (E, 203,251 w., 15 Ch. || Twisted Canon, Slow Burn, First Kiss/Time, Minor Character Death) – A sort-of canon, sort-of AU fic in which I twist and supplement canon to weave it into a new story in which Sherlock and John come from different worlds and nothing is quite what it seems.

WORKS IN PROGRESS

The Posthumous Game by S_IRIS (E, 58,695+ w., 12/19 Ch. || WiP || Supernatural Elements AU || S4 Fix It, Crack, Humour, Fluff, Demonic Possession, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Sherlock Whump, Hurt Comfort, Hallucinations) – A Season 4 fix-it fic where Jim Moriarty really is dead but comes back as a demon to haunt Sherlock. The only problem is Jim is a total newbie at demonic possession so he tries to make-do and ends up making Johnlock happen. Only, it doesn’t happen the way you’d think.

Hellfire by HarleysCompass (E, 66,660+ w., 19/? Ch. || WiP || Fallen Angel AU || Biblical References, BAMF John, Sexual Content, Fallen Angel John) – In 1880 Dr. John H. Watson dies on foreign soil. The next thing he knows he's wandering the planes of Heaven. After betraying God, John is cast out, employed by the devil, and protecting a sociopath of a human with a penchant for trouble and pissing off Angels.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #winglock fics #angels and demons #supernatural fics #magical realism fics #my fic recs #marked for later fics #wip fics

39 notes · View notes

stillwinchester · 11 months

Note

Sorry if you've answered something like this before, but could you link some destiel fics you recommend? :)

I'm constantly forgetting to bookmark fics, but I think I'll find a few! And never be sorry about sending me ask! :)

Dream a Little Dream of Me by blackimpala - I love all djinn fics, but this one have a twist in it!

Someone Who's Feeling For Me by ellispark - Dean meets Lisa after 6 years, lots of jealousy from Cas and Dean' sides. Fic with a case in the background.

Sleeping Beauty by Leocante - Title says everything. Cas is cursed and Dean needs to fix him!

Mickey Blue Eyes by WaywardAF67 - Jealous Dean. Mick Davies ships it!

The Frenching Mistake by fellshish - I love all fics written by fells! This one is 15x18 alternative ending.

Twenty Dollars by NorthernSparrow - Human!Cas, angst, explicit. Read warnings before!

Wings to Dance by SundayZenith - Cas as a dance teacher, and Dean who needs to prepare for Sam wedding. Very sweet fic (with a little moving moments). And I made art for this!

#fic rec #fic reccomendations #destiel fics #deancas fic #spn fics #spn rec #supernatural fics #destiel rec #ask #nonny #supernatural #spn #destiel #castiel #dean winchester #deancas

160 notes · View notes

cashorrors · 2 months

Text

genfics!!!! Check it out and if anyone has fics you think I should read, send them to me

#spn #supernatural #spn fics #supernatural fics #sam winchester #dean winchester #castiel #supernatural fic recs #spn fic recs

32 notes · View notes

novafics · 10 months

Text

l Storm l

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: storms, Talk of potential injury, talk of animal abuse.

Summary: Coming back from a hunt you discover something very interesting, but how is Dean going to react to this discovery?

Word Count: 801

Masterlist

---

You knew this was a bad idea the moment you contemplated doing it, but how could you resist?.

You had just finished your solo Vampire hunt and was on the way back to the bunker. The hunt itself was relatively easy, only 1 vampire gone rogue and it was over faster than you thought it would be, so fast that you thought you would rather make the drive that very night back to the bunker instead of staying in the motel you had already pre-booked. You don’t know why, whether it was the lure of your soft, warm bed or the thought of Dean waiting for you in your soft warm bed but you were eager to return to your man. That, and you had a gut feeling that there was a reason you needed to make your way back early.

Half way through the drive back the weather took a turn for the worse, the sky looked dark and angry while there was rain pelting your windscreen with such force you thought it might just break. It got to a point that you had to pull over, the last thing you wanted was to survive a vampire hunt just to get taken out by a storm. You pulled over into a clearing on the side of the road, it was pretty much barren apart from a few trees now bare with the force of the wind stripping each and every tree of their remaining leaves.

As you sat in the car, the storm still causing havoc, you spotted something out of the corner of your eye. Over next to one of the trees sat a black bag, seeming to be moving with a force that was contained inside the bag and not from the forces raging outside. Deciding to investigate you took a strong breath in preparing yourself for the wet and cold you were about to face and you set off for the tree.

Slowly bending down you discovered that there was definitely something inside this bag, and it wanted out!.

Holding your breath once more you tore into the bag to discover a miserable looking, cold and shivering puppy. ‘Who the hell would do such a thing?!’ you thought to yourself. You had seen some pretty gruesome shit in your time as a hunter with the boys but never something this inhumane to an innocent animal.

Putting your anger aside for the sake of this little puppy you quickly gathered him up into your arms and made your way back to the temporary safety of the car. Once inside you checked over the puppy to see if there weren't any injuries you should worry about and after not finding anything for a solid 20 minutes you let out the breath you were holding finally realising that the innocent dog was ok.

Not even a second after you stop looking over the dog he climbed into your lap and started licking your face to show his gratitude. “What am I gonna do with you huh?” you asked the puppy as if he was gonna answer you.

You knew that Dean was not a dog person, Sam yes so that wouldn’t be a problem but Dean? He was not gonna be happy, but as the puppy looked into your eyes, still sat in your lap how could you resist?

After the further 40 minute drive back to the bunker you were finally back, the puppy next to you eager to see everything inside. You pushed open the bunker door and made your way down the steps, you didn’t get much further before you were tackled into a hug by Dean.

“Where have you been?! I was so close to going out into the storm and finding you myself, are you alright sweetheart?” he said frantically, holding your face in his hands. “Yes I'm fine baby, i promise” you said finally giving in and kissing him as you had been wishing to for the last few hours.

“Hey is that a dog?” you heard Sam say from behind Dean. The puppy was currently sitting waiting patiently behind your legs waiting to be introduced. “Yes he’s the reason I was so late, someone just threw him away in a bag, can you believe that?!. Look I know you're not a fan of dog’s Dean but ..” your rambling was cut short with another kiss from Dean making you relax instantly and all the stress you had melted away. “I don’t care if you came back with an entire zoo as long as I have you here with me, '' Dean said, making tears come to your eyes.

“So, what should we name him?” Dean said, bending down to lovingly stroke the puppy. “I've been thinking, I think his name should be…. Storm”.

82 notes · View notes

spnexploration · 2 years

Text

Catatonic

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, female hunter (reader)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: Sam gets hurt on a hunt, but the message doesn't seem to be getting through to Dean. The reader has to think of something quickly to motivate him to move, but how will Dean take being threatened? And what happens when there are questions at the hospital?

Tags: (friends to) enemies to lovers, somewhat fluffy, angst, exploring Dean's feelings, pretend relationship, real relationship, hospital

Warnings: canon-typical injuries, female hands tied, gun violence threatened (from female and from male) but not acted upon, implied smut but nothing beyond kissing described.

Word count: 3.7k

A/N: I find "y/n" quite jarring when reading so I have avoided using it. However, it is meant to be the reader as the narrator. Also I'm Australian, there may be some Australianisms.

ETA: I wrote an extra bonus bit at the end, see here

Supernatural writing masterlist

We just got out of there alive. Mission accomplished for the hunt, but only just. Sam staggered out of the cabin in the woods ahead of me, and I could hear Dean cleaning his knife behind me having just taken down the last of them. The three of us made our way to some rocks and sat down, exhausted and feeling the loss of adrenaline. I felt like I had hit a wall and my body was cashing in its previously written cheques.

“Uh...” Sam said. I looked up at him, noticing his paling face and then the blood on his hand against his abdomen.

“Sam?!” I called, jumping to my feet to run to him.

“I, uh, I got stabbed,” he said, almost as if he couldn't believe it.

I looked over at Dean, who was still sitting, hadn't responded. “Dean!” I called out to him. He didn't look up. “DEAN!” I screamed.

“What?” he said gruffly, like I was interrupting his favourite TV show.

“Sam’s been stabbed!”

Dean didn't react. What the hell had gotten into him that he would ignore Sam being injured?!

“Alright, Sam, come on, get up, let's get you to the car.” I helped Sam stand and draped his arm around my shoulders. I was too short to really be a good support for him, but it was better than nothing. Dean still hadn’t moved.

“Dean, I don't know how to get back to the car through these woods.” Nothing. “I can barely carry one Winchester, I can't carry two. You have to get up.” No response.

“Dean! I need you to lead us back to the car so we can get Sam help.” He just sat there, staring at his hands, catatonic. “Are you hurt too or something?!” No response.

I was starting to panic now. How was I going to get Sam through the forest? I could feel his blood seeping through his shirt and into mine. Why wouldn't Dean move? I had to think of a way to motivate him.

I suddenly realised what I could do. Risky, but it might get through to Dean, and I couldn't get out of this forest without him.

I pulled the gun out from my waistband. I pointed it at Dean and clicked the safety off. “Stand up, Winchester,” I said coolly. “You are going to lead us out of here.”

He looked up at me, anger in his eyes. “If you shoot me, how are you going to get out?”

Damn. I thought quickly, turning the gun to Sam at my side instead. “Not you. If you don't lead us out, I'll shoot Sam.” Dean glared at me before reluctantly getting up.

“You dare to threaten me with my own gun?” he asked, his voice low and threatening. “You come in, you use our weapons and then what, you decide to turn on us? Was this always the plan?”

“Just get moving, Winchester. Before your brother gets it.” I acted like it meant nothing to me, but it was killing me performing this act.

Sam nodded at Dean who grumpily started walking. Once he was a couple of metres in front of us, I put the safety back on and the gun in my pocket, ready to help Sam move.

“You know, I could overpower you like this,” Sam said to me quietly.

“Oh really, while you bleed out on me?” I replied, equally quietly. “You know I'm not going to shoot you Sam, I just needed something to motivate Dean. Not sure why you being stabbed wasn’t enough, but I thought he’d recognise the click of a gun and act on instinct and I was right.”

Sam grimaced as we went on, clearly in pain. I could feel the blood still flowing through my fingers as I tried to apply pressure to the wound while walking.

“He's going to try to disarm you.”

“I know. And I'll let him. We just need to get you patched up.”

We completed the rest of the walk in silence, Dean occasionally throwing glances back at us.

I tensed up as the clearing where Baby was parked came into view, expecting Dean to do something. I fished the gun back out of my pocket for appearances, although I was ready to drop it at any moment to avoid Dean shooting me instead.

I tried to still act cool, “Open her up and then come here and get Sam in. Nice and slow, Winchester, no funny business.”

Dean narrowed his eyes at me, coming to grab Sam. He felt the wet blood on his hand when he put it around Sam’s waist, looking critically at his hand and then accusatorily at me. “You shot him?!” he yelled angrily.

“What? No! That's where he GOT STABBED!”

Sam swayed on his feet.

“Just get him in the car, Dean!” I yelled, gesturing with the gun. His eyes narrowed at my gesture but he did it.

I followed behind, not really sure where to go with the gun idea now. I hadn't thought this far ahead when I started it.

Dean was still bent down in front of me, getting Sam into the passenger seat. I walked up to Baby, “Ok, you're going to dr-“

I was cut off my Dean canoning into me. He'd used his already bent forward body, spun on his heels and launched himself at me, tackling me to the ground with his shoulder in my stomach. His hands went for the gun and I quickly dropped it, holding my palms wide open at him. “I surrender! The safety isn't even off, I wasn't going to shoot!” I gushed, a bit winded. I put up no fight, not wanting Dean to think I was a real threat.

He easily grabbed my wrists then hauled me to my feet with them. He spun me around and pushed me up against Baby, pulling my hands behind my back to him. “This here is exactly why I keep rope in the glove box,” he hissed in my ear as he tied my wrists together. He opened the back door and shoved me in the backseat before getting in the driver's seat himself.

“She wasn't going to shoot me, Dean,” Sam said weakly.

“How about I be the judge of that and you focus on not bleeding to death?” Dean responded angrily, starting the car.

---

We sped down the highway. I tried not to rub my wrists against the rope but I couldn't help it when I was being tossed around in the backseat, unable to brace myself or sit properly with them behind me. Dean had tied them tightly, there was no slipping out of it. The rope painfully tore at my skin, but I bit my tongue and kept it to myself.

We kept driving.

Finally, I saw the signs for the hospital, Dean following them. Sam was slumped in his seat.

“You’re going to have to untie me,” I said quietly.

“And why exactly would I do that?” Dean responded gruffly.

“Because they're going to notice if you go in with a stabbed brother and a woman tied up in the backseat of your car.” Dean tensed his jaw but didn't say anything. “I promise, I'll do everything you say. You can even tie me back up when we get back to the car once Sam’s patched up.”

“Fine, but you put a toe out of line and I'll be the one shooting you.”

“Yes, sir.” His eyebrow and the corner of his mouth tweaked slightly.

We pulled into the hospital car park. Dean lent over the front seat and undid the knot on my hands, leaving me to work the rope off them. I pulled a jacket from the floor and hastily put it on, hoping the sleeves would hide the marks on my wrists. Dean ran around the car and pulled the semi-conscious Sam out and carried him inside, me tailing close behind. Dean struggled a little with Sam’s weight and length, but managed it.

“Abdominal stab wound, lost a lot of blood!” Dean yelled as he carried Sam through the door. Health workers quickly scrambled to us, getting Sam on a bed and rushing him off.

---

Once Sam was gone, the questions started. Dean told them Sam had been stabbed in a mugging gone wrong. He said we'd put up a fight at our attackers, trying to have a plausible reason for the bruises, cuts and scratches that were also developing on Dean and I.

“Miss, I need you to come with me,” a nurse said to me.

“Oh, I’m not his sibling, Greg knows all his details,” I said, gesturing to Dean and using his current credit card alias.

“I need you to come, Miss,” the nurse insisted. Her eyes glanced at my wrist and I saw that my sleeve had slipped up when I'd reached for paperwork they passed us earlier, and she'd seen the rope burn. Crap.

“Ok,” I said, thinking fast. “Back in a sec, honey,” I said to Dean. He schooled his features and didn't respond with surprise.

The nurse took me to another room. “Is someone hurting you? Did he threaten you?” she asked me.

“Greg? No, he's my boyfriend,” acting like I was surprised by her question.

“What happened to your wrists?”

“Oh,” I giggled, acting skills to 11. “We, um, got a little carried away,” I lowered my voice like I was worried someone would overhear us, “during sex... I like to be tied up.” I thought about the most embarrassing thing I could, hoping my face would blush to match my story.

“If he is hurting you, you can tell us and we'll help you.”

“Oh no, he's really a teddy bear. It's all me with the, you know,” I dropped my voice again, “sex stuff.” I looked at the ground, like it was hard to maintain eye contact.

She looked at me critically for a second as if trying to see if I was lying. She finally shrugged and led me back to the room where Dean was.

“Any news?” I asked as I entered, looking at his clearly exhausted form. I could see why they thought he was violent, the tension in his already imposing shoulders was clear to see and his hands and shirt were speckled in Sam’s blood from getting him and out of the car. He shook his head to my question.

I crossed the room to him and slid my arm around his back, giving him a side hug. He put his arm around my shoulder, clearly having cottoned on to my ruse. “Where’d you go?” he asked me.

“Oh it was so embarrassing,” I giggled and dropped my voice, but still loud enough that it could probably be heard by the nearby nurse. “They asked about my wrists, I had to tell them about me getting you to tie me up in sex.” I buried my face into his shoulder and he chuckled. “My little firecracker,” he said, giving me a squeeze.

The nurse seemed reasonably reassured and left, but we were still in the waiting room where others could see us even if they couldn't hear.

“Let's go sit down,” I said to him, still with my arm around his back. He didn't move. I reached up on my toes to kiss his cheek, whispering to him as I did, “You need to look a little more like a worried brother and a little less like you did it.”

He turned and took my hand, leading me to the chairs. I'd seen him act before as all kinds of different personas, but I was impressed with how well he could slip into the role of boyfriend.

He kept a hand on me at all times, whether it be on my knee, around my back or holding my hand. I supposed the girlfriend ruse had really helped with his desire to manage the threat he felt I posed now.

We waited.

And waited.

“I'm going to the toilet,” I said to him. His hand on my knee squeezed in warning and he leaned into me, “Fine,” he breathed quietly, “But if I hear anything suspicious or you take more than two minutes, I'm kicking the door down.” I nodded and walked over to the bathrooms, Dean following me and heading into the men's as I went into the women's.

It was good to wash Sam’s blood off my hands, finally.

Dean was waiting for me when I came out and we walked back to our seats. I noticed his hands were now clean of blood too.

We waited.

“They're still watching you,” I whispered in his ear.

“I know,” he muttered under his breath, frustration leaking through.

We waited some more.

I looked over at him at one point, seeing the frown lines etched into his face. I reached up and ran my hand through his hair, gently massaging his scalp. His face relaxed a little, quite unrelated to acting.

More waiting.

And more waiting.

Finally, a doctor came in to see us. Dean jumped up. “He's going to be ok,” the doctor said, “we were able to stitch it up and give him a blood transfusion. He's very lucky they missed damaging his organs too much.”

“Can we see him?” Dean asked. The doctor nodded and led us through. Dean gripped my hand, and I reminded myself that he still thought I'd double-crossed him and Sam. He would be clutching me to him so he could keep an eye on me, even though it had felt for a moment like he wanted the comfort of someone else around when going to see his injured little brother.

---

Sam was discharged a couple of hours later. The doctors wanted to keep him in but he assured them he'd be ok at home, and so they let us leave.

Dean led the way to the car, my hand held tightly in his. He checked on Sam, getting in the passenger side, before returning his attention to me. He opened my door as if he was being a gentleman, but the hospital staff couldn't hear him muttering to me, “You pull any funny business before I get a chance to tie you up and I will end you.” I gulped and nodded.

15 minutes down the road, he pulled over. As soon as the car was stationary, he pulled his gun out and pointed it straight at me, over the seats. “Let's go have a chat, shall we?” he asked sarcastically, angry face back on.

I got out of the car, worried by Dean’s expression. Sam hastily got out too, wincing slightly.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Sam asked anxiously.

Dean looked cool, calm and collected with his gun trained straight on me. “Sam, test her.”

“Is this really necessary?” Sam asked.

“She pointed a gun at you Sammy. A gun I put in her hand after we let her in our house. So yes, this is really necessary!”

I stood with my hands up, a few metres behind Baby. Sam fetched holy water from the car and splashed it on me, to no effect. He edged closer to me and pressed the side of a silver knife flat against my forearm, again to no reaction. Dean continued to glare at me down the barrel of his gun.

“I'm not a demon, Dean,” I said. “I wasn't really going to shoot him, I just didn't know how to get you moving. You were just sitting there and Sam was bleeding and I panicked!”

There was a pause. “Get back in the car, Sam,” Dean ordered.

I started to shake, thinking he was going to shoot me. I'd braved plenty of others threatening me, but there was something about Dean doing it that had me weak at the knees, and not in a good way.

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked quietly.

Dean stared at me a beat longer, before finally lowering his gun. “No.”

He turned back to the car and started walking back, leaving me standing alone. “Are- are you going to leave me here?” I stuttered. I hadn't thought about what would happen to my relationships with the brothers when I'd had the idea of threatening Dean to get him moving, back in the forest. I didn't want to be abandoned.

“Get in the damn car,” Dean called out to me, not looking up. I ran to my door and climbed in.

---

We pulled up at the bunker and all climbed out of the car. The trip had been tense and silent.

Sam went to pick up his bag from the boot, but Dean was faster. “I got it,” said the older brother.

The three of us headed inside, Sam walking gingerly with his hand against his injured side. “How about you go lie down?” I suggested to him gently, noticing how tired he looked.

Sam looked between Dean and I, a frown on his face, “Are you two going to kill each other if I leave you alone?”

I smirked and shook my head. Sam glared at his brother, “Dean?” he demanded.

“We’ll be fine,” Dean responded gruffly. “Quit your fussing.” Sam looked relieved and headed off his room.

I headed to mine too, keen to wash Sam’s blood and the remnants of the hunt off me. The water stung my raw wrists, but it felt good being clean. I put on a t-shirt and some trackies and headed back to the living area.

I found Dean sitting by himself on the couch, staring into space. He'd cleaned up a bit too, sitting in fresh clothes with damp, short hair.

I grabbed two beers from the fridge and headed for the couch, cracking the lid off one and holding it out to Dean. It took him a second to notice. He reached out for it, and then caught sight of my wrist, with the bruising and rope burn from when he tied me up. One hand took the beer and put it on the table, while the other gently cradled my wrist. “I'm sorry,” he said quietly, turning my arm over to look all around it.

“It’s nothing,” I said, pulling my arm back. I had enjoyed the feeling of his calloused hands gently holding mine, but I didn't want to add to his pity party.

I sat next to him on the couch, opening my own beer. “Wanna tell me what's going on in that head of yours?”

“No.” His tone clearly indicated he wanted me to drop it, which I had no intention of doing.

“It’s not like you to not care that Sam was stabbed and bleeding.” He looked up at me sharply, clearly annoyed.

I waited a moment, but he didn't say anything. I tried again, “I have a theory.”

“Oh yeah, what's that Dr Freud?” he asked, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I don't think you heard or understood us. I don't think you registered that Sam had been stabbed when you just kept sitting there. At the time I thought you were ignoring us or downplaying it, but the look on your face when you thought I'd already shot him, it seemed like surprise that he was bleeding.”

He took a deep breath and stared at his hands, clasped in front of him with his elbows on his knees. “I would never ignore that you or Sammy was hurt,” he said quietly.

“So, what happened?” I asked, equally quietly.

He took a deep breath. “I don't know,” he said, clearly reluctant to admit it.

I reached over and ran my hand through his hair, like I had when pretending to be his girlfriend in the hospital. I’d noticed then that he liked it. “It's ok to make a mistake sometimes,” I said, still speaking quietly.

“It’s not ok if it leads to Sammy bleeding out,” he criticised himself angrily. “I can't afford to make mistakes.”

“It's ok to be exhausted and thinking the hunt is over and have your brain not quite process everything it hears. It's human. When was the last time you slept?”

He laughed mirthlessly. “Sleep doesn't come easily to monsters.”

My hand was still in his hair. I slowly brought it down the side of his face, cupping his cheek. He looked up at me, my eyes meeting his beautiful, tormented green ones. He looked so vulnerable, I could tell he was beating himself up about what had happened.

I leaned in towards him, crossing most of the distance but leaving a small amount so he could choose not to lean in. After a tiny pause, he leaned in to the kiss. Our soft lips met tenderly.

“I don't think you're a monster,” I whispered to him afterwards.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me on to his lap, leaning in to kiss me again. His kisses were deeper, more passionate and more needy. “This ok, sweetheart?” he whispered during a pause in kissing. “Mhmm,” I agreed, running my hands down his muscled torso.

“Wanna take this somewhere more comfortable?” he asked me, his hands roaming my body. “God, yes,” I breathed back to him. He turned my legs so I was straddling his lap instead of sitting across it, and then stood up, holding my legs wrapped around his waist. I squealed in surprise. He laughed, “Careful how loud you scream, you'll bring Sam running.” I felt my face blush at the thought.

Dean carried me to his room, depositing me on my back on his bed while he kept kissing me passionately. He started removing my clothes, and I his.

---

It was later. I cradled Dean’s sleeping head on my chest, gently stroking his scalp. He had me wrapped in his strong arms under the covers of his bed.

He finally looked peaceful, and certainly seemed more soundly asleep than he ever had in any of the motel rooms we had stayed in recently. I wondered how long since he had felt safe and relaxed enough to properly sleep. Perhaps that was why he could only process information in the presence of adrenaline, today at least.

I wrapped my arms around him and fell asleep myself.

Read the extra bonus bit

347 notes · View notes

rabidunidentifiedfemale · 15 days

Text

What If I said I needed help finding a fic I've been looking for? I've tried everything for about two years now, I have vague details. Warning it's fucked up, not for everybody!

It's a Dean x Reader x Sam

Dean's the dad, Sam's the uncle, Reader gets into an incest relationship with them holy fuck writing this out makes me feel so wrong? Man anyway

They're like some weird crime family? There's a lot for drama, so much lore. It was on AO3 I think? Dean ends up buying daughter Reader a hotel in Paris? I don't know it was a fever dream I read once years ago and I CANT FIND IT I NEED TO KNOW IT WAS REAL PLEASE HELP.

#spn #supernatural fics #supernatural fic #supernatural ao3 #fanfiction #spn fic #spn fics #supernatural x reader #dean x reader x sam #wincest #this is wild honestly i feel literally insane

8 notes · View notes

zepskies · 2 years

Text

Patched Up (III)

Pairing: Castiel x Reader Summary: How Castiel thanks you for treating his wounds.

This is part of a 3-part series with Sam, Dean, and Castiel.

Word Count: 780 Warnings: Fluff

Part III: Castiel

It was no small humiliation on his part. An angel, formerly of Heaven, now reduced to cradling the stinging hand of his vessel.

He was piled into the Impala with you, Sam, and Dean, but the moment they returned to the Men of Letters bunker, he tucked his hand to his chest and broke away to the kitchen.

With a mix of concern and suspicion, you watched his trench coat flutter behind him as he moved swiftly out of the common area.

You shared a look with Sam, who shrugged. Unwilling to let go of your concern, you followed Cas into the kitchen and found him standing there, inspecting his right hand. That is, until he sensed you behind him and tucked his hand into his pocket.

It was an awkward move for the angel, who never held his hands in his pockets. You raised a brow at him.

“You okay there?”

“Fine,” he said, in that flat, gravel way of his. “Why do you ask?”

You hummed and went over to him. When you touched his right wrist, he flinched the slightest bit, leaning away from you.

“Will you let me see?” you asked patiently. He looked down at you with his heavy, dark brows crunched over his eyes. But he soon relented, letting you tug his hand out of his pocket. It was red and severely bruised.

If you thought back, that fit from when an enemy angel had tried crushing his head with a pipe, but only managed to catch his hand against the ground instead. You knew why he was upset though. Cut off from Heaven as he was, and now using another angel’s grace as his own, he was maybe at half-strength. Maybe even less.

“Okay. Come ‘ere,” you said, leading him to the sink. You put it on its coldest setting and ran his hand under the water. Cas closed his eyes with a flinch, but eventually he got used to it. You bade him to stay there while you riled through the kitchen for some ice, a plastic bag, and a paper towel.

It was amazing you found anything in this disorganized frat house, but you made your makeshift icepack and took his hand from the water, turning off the sink. You pressed the ice gently on his hand, and your gaze flicked up to the angel’s face, trying to read how much pain he was actually in.

“This isn’t necessary,” he said. You smiled at the slight grumpiness you detected.

Cas held his stoic expression well. You could almost believe he was humoring you here. He had been hurt much worse in the past, both as an angel and as a human, however brief that had been.

But you’d gotten pretty good at reading the subtleties in his body language over the years, and his crunched brows were the biggest tell. He was in pain, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

The ice was probably helping to numb it, but his hand was stiff, his skin red and now ice-cold.

So you raised his hand to your lips and laid a soft kiss to his knuckles. “There. All better.”

Cas’s eyes widened a fraction as he looked down at you, head tilting in confusion. You pat his arm with a smile and let go of his hand.

“Just keep the ice on for a few minutes at a time. It’ll help with the swelling,” you said.

You walked around him, intending to check and see what Sam and Dean wanted for dinner. But a gentle hand on your wrist stopped you from leaving. You looked back at Castiel questioningly.

He looked uncertain for a moment, but then he crossed the gap between you. His hand moved from your wrist to grasp your fingers around his. You looked up at his handsome, unshaven face with the beginnings of a blush warming your cheeks. His height over you always made you feel small, but also protected with his frame taking up space around you.

“Yes?” you asked, with a somewhat teasing smile. His dark blue eyes locked on yours.

With a subtle smile of his own, he leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth.

“Thank you,” he said. You didn’t know if he intended to say it so close to your ear, or with that amount of depth in his voice, but it caused a current of electricity to run deliciously down your spine.

Your smile for him turned a bit more playful, and you leaned up and cupped the back of his neck with your free hand.

“I think you missed,” you said, and brought his lips to yours instead.

Check out Part 1: Dean, or Part 2: Sam!

#castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x female reader #castiel/you #castiel/reader #spn #spn fanfic #spn fics #spn fanfics #supernatural #castiel #zepkies #zepskies writes #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fics #romance #reader insert

342 notes · View notes

supernaturalfreewill · 11 months

Photo

You brushed the soil from your palms as Dean held out an ice cold beer for you that he’d retrieved from a cooler in the Impala. “Thanks,” you said, accepting it. The condensation dripped ice cold over your fingers.

He popped the top on his own and took a swig before glancing back over at you. He smiled and you felt your heart jump in your chest.

“What?” you prompted him.

“You’ve got some dirt on your cheek,” he said, gesturing to his own cheekbone.

“Oh.” You swiped a few fingers over it but Dean let out a low laugh.

“Yeah, never mind. It’s way worse now,” he said.

You looked at your palms in the glow of the lantern. They were still rather dirty. “Yeah, that makes sense. Oh, well.” You looked out over the stillness of the graveyard, blanketed in velvety folds of shadow. “Didn’t you say graveyard dirt is used in some spells or something? Should we grab some before we go?”

“Mmm,” Dean hummed, swallowing another gulp of his beer, “Yeah. Probably a good idea. You never know when you’ll need shit like that.” The only sound for a moment was the chirp of a lone cricket nearby and a quiet rustling as the breeze tickled the leaves on the large sycamore overhead.

You let out a light laugh and Dean met your eyes again. “Of all the places you could bring me on a date... a salt and burn case in a cemetery.” You shook your head and he shrugged.

“Yeah, but would any of them have been as memorable? Hey—you said you were curious about the hands on stuff. It was a nice, easy case... I thought you’d enjoy it! Besides, it’s nice and quiet here and we’ve got the place to ourselves... no nosy neighbors.” He flashed you that boyish smirk that drove you wild. “It’s nicely landscaped. Well-manicured lawn...”

“Except for the giant pile of freshly disturbed earth and six foot deep hole,” you pointed out, picking up a handful of soil and playfully tossing it at him. It made a satisfying sound as it sprayed against his leather jacket.

“Yeah, except that,” he laughed.

“Well, listen, if you think you’re getting lucky in a graveyard you’ve got another thing coming...”

“Damn,” he laughed, clearing his throat a second later. “Can I suggest we move to the back seat of the car then?”

You felt your face flush with heat but laughed heartily. “On the first official date and you think I’m going to agree to that? Nice try, Dean.”

“Ahh, well,” he shrugged. He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Can’t blame a guy for tryin’.”

#dean winchester imagines #dean drabbles #spn drabbles #supernatural fics #fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader insert #dean x you

169 notes · View notes

queerstudiesnatural · 7 months

Text

Happy Birthday Destiel!! Here are some words I wrote about you

X | X | X | X

#rain posts #rain.writing #happy birthday destiel #supernatural #destiel #destiel fics #destiel poetry #spn fanfic #spn fic #spn fics #spn poetry #supernatural fic #supernatural fics #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural poetry

40 notes · View notes

inthemytdl · 8 months

Text

Teenage Dream

Summary: Jack prepares for his first date (with a girl)

Note: she/her pronouns

“Are you sure?” Jack brushed down the black shirt and army style jacket Dean gave him.

The sleeves went a couple inches past his hand, so he had to roll them up to fit properly. The shirt, on the other hand, fit well.

“Trust me, chicks dig the bad boy look,” Dean said. “A little dirt, a little grime. Works every time.”

Jack had never been on a date before, but he imagined dressing nicer than this. Wearing his FBI suit, maybe. It was the nicest one he owned and the sleeves fit perfectly.

He turned to Sam. “Is that true?”

“Sometimes,” Sam said, without looking up from his computer.

But Jack had seen a good amount of romance films and couldn’t imagine Sam as the bad boy in any of them. In his mind, he was always the nice guy. The hero.

“Did you think you’d go in your FBI suit?” Dean laughed. “This is a date, kid, not a case.”

“I like that suit. Cass says blue is my color.”

Cass nodded. “It’s true. And that”—he pointed at Jack—“is horrible.”

“Hey!” Dean shouted. “That’s style. Army green, simple tees. That’s in right now. It’s all over the mags.”

“Mags?” Sam said.

“Magazines. God, you guys are old.”

Jack watched the scene unfold. Dean was doing that thing where he pretended to be young again while Sam groaned and Cass filed his nails against the wooden table. Usually, he’d let it go on, but there were just thirty minutes until his date with you and he still didn’t have an outfit.

“I don’t have time for this!” Jack shouted. His skin was hot like when he used his powers.

“Woah. Relax. It’s just a date,” Dean said.

“He’s never been on a date before, Dean,” Sam countered.

“So? Neither has Cass and he’s doing fine.”

“Dating, love, relationships. Those are human things,” Cass said. “Trivial.”

“Trivial?” Dean craned his neck toward him and the pair erupted into yet another argument as Sam approached Jack.

“It doesn’t matter what you wear,” he said. “Just be yourself. Girls can tell when you’re faking.”

“They can?” Jack felt more nervous than before. It was all too human. And he was only half of that. He wasn’t used to having sweaty palms or a butterfly-filled stomach. He thought he was sick the first time he felt their flutter before Sam explained that it was normal.

“Uh, yeah. Sometimes,” Sam coughed. “But you’ll be fine.” He gave him those puppy dog eyes he gave families when working a case: his attempt to take half of their pain. It worked sometimes. Jack was grateful it worked now.

“Okay,” he said, leaving to change.

He hurried to his room and put on a white button up paired with a brown suit. That blue tie he loved. He stopped for a moment to look in the mirror, did an awkward smile, then made his way back to the command center.

The chaos had died down by the time he arrived, and all three of the boys sat around the table listening to Sam. Jack overlooked the scene from the head of the table. This was one of the few times the bunker was quiet: when one of them was talking and the others listened. And that was rare. Most days, they talked over each other.

“Woah. Look at you.” Sam was first to notice him. His dimples pinched his cheeks as he smiled.

“Much better,” Cass rasped.

Dean scrunched his face and made his way over to him. Jack wiped sweaty palms down his blazer. Dean was never all that nice to him, but a couple months in the bunker and they had become somewhat of a family.

“You’ve got to learn how to properly tie a tie,” Dean said, and he adjusted it for him. “There. Not as good as before but… decent.” He nodded, then fished in his pocket and produced silver keys. “Here.”

“You’re letting me drive the impala?” Jack said.

“Don’t make me regret it.”

Sam clapped. “Alright, go get ‘em, tiger.”

A rush of energy overcame Jack, though he couldn’t tell why. It might’ve been confidence or nerves or something entirely different—he wasn’t sure. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. He had grown accustomed to fear and adrenaline. Love, even. But never romantic, and never like this.

This would be the first time he went on a real date, and one where no one tried to kill him. He felt prepared; he knew what to do. Once he got to the restaurant, he would pull your chair out for you, you’d talk, and then you’d fall in love with him.

There was only one thing he was unsure about.

“What should I say when I get there?” he asked.

“I read in a Teen Vogue magazine it’s custom to talk about your interests,” Cass said.

“Zombies?”

“No—no zombies!” Dean said. “For the love of god, no zombies.”

“Just follow her lead, okay?” Sam said.

Jack nodded, making a mental note of all the advice he’d be given. But if he wasn’t allowed to talk about zombies, what would he talk about?

“Uh, kid.” Dean laid a hand on his shoulder. “You’re not moving.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” Cass said. “You’ve been standing in Dean’s beer puddle for thirty seconds now.”

“Oh.” He felt the liquid squish below his feet.

“Here, I’ll walk you.” Sam placed a hand on his back and led him to the door.

“You’ll call me if you need help?”

Leaving during a case felt wrong—like when he finished a box of cereal and it didn’t have a toy in it or when he waved at someone and they didn’t wave back—but Sam insisted he go.

“Yeah,” Sam said, opening the door for him.

Jack lifted a slow hand and waved goodbye.

Sam smiled and waved back; gave him that look that took half his nerves, half his pain. Then the door shut and it was time for his date.

#jack kline #jack kline blurbs #jack kline x reader #jack kline fics #jack kline x yn #supernatural fics #jack kline oneshot #spn fics #jack winchester #jack kline imagine #supernatural fanfiction

189 notes · View notes