Tags: supernatural fic rec


Supernatural fic rec

Head On by whereupon 

Sam/Dean, R,

And then, just like that, Dean falls.

Sam goes outside and in the brief time it takes to get to the car, he tries to think of what he'll say, if there's anything he can say at all.

The sunlight pierces his eyes when he opens the car door, just as Dean turns to look at him. For a split-second, blinded by the sun, Sam can't see the expression on Dean's face, and he lets himself hope.


supernatural fic rec

Two Shots to the Head   by  whereupon 

first season,
11,650 words

Dean looks back at the road, lonely stretch of dirt lit only by their headlights, and shifts the car into drive. He wonders if Sam would hate him, if he knew, but even if he would, Dean thinks it couldn't be nearly as bad as it was. A lost week, that's all this is, just a wrong turn, a detour down some dead-end road, and he won't make that mistake again.

The next time (and he knows there will be a next time, because he could never deny Sam anything), he won't ask for anything in exchange. The next time, he'll let Sam take everything he has, and maybe he won't make it out alive, because now he knows what comes next, what comes after.

It will break your heart but it's amazingly beautiful nonetheless.


Supernatural fic rec

Two recs today:

Manhattan for Beads  by  candle_beck 

Sam/Dean (R)

Sam got woken up by the sun at mid-morning, which blanketed him in heat, pasted him to the sheets. He kicked the covers away, sprawled out as wide as he could with his skin stretching overtight, and he realized Dean wasn't there anymore.
"Dean?" Sam wasn't really expecting an answer, feeling like he'd seen this movie a million times before, but Dean replied absently, "What," from over by the table. Sam looked over his shoulder. Dean had the computer open, a cup of coffee at his hand. He didn't look back at Sam, and Sam thought he might be pressing his luck but he asked:
"What're you doing?"
"Finding a job," Dean told him, still not looking over but he didn't sound weird or ticked or freaking out, just kinda distracted and it threw Sam off, not what he'd prepared himself for. "We gotta get the fuck out of the plains."

Beautiful and amazing with such pain.


Hell’s Gates by ebolacrisis 

Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: R

Dean moves closer, wipes the worst of the blood off Sam's face with the paper towels. Sam keeps entirely still, and it's weird, like Dean is alone in the room. There's a part of him still alive that thinks Sam might squirm, move, look at him, but he doesn’t. What Dean had mistaken for despair or recklessness is actually a genuine indifference, and the knowledge is like a knife in his gut.

Dark and violent. So them.


Supernatural fic rec

Easy on the Clutch  by  winterweathered 

Sam/Dean, NC-17
Words: 31,000

Warnings: Sam is underage

There's never been time like this before, three hours of driving every night while they just stare at each other—Sam under the pretense of learning by example, Dean under the pretense of supervision. Things are charged as hell. When they're in the car together, Dean feels like he could snap his fingers and send sparks flying.