#spn rarepairs

[hoziernaturalevents]

Sign-Ups for the Hoziernatural Multi-Ship Bang are now open!!

You can now sign up HERE as an author, artist, beta, or pinch-hitter!

All ships, gen fics, and x reader fics are all welcome! (We are including characters from the prequel, too, by the way! If they exist within the Supernatural universe, they're welcome. Wanna write that fic where Sam and Dean actually get to grow up with Carlos and Lata around? DO IT.)

Sign-ups will be open from now until March 31st. After that, participants will be matched based on the preferences (favorite Hozier songs, ships/characters, ratings, etc.) they list in the sign-up form, and mods will begin sending out Autor/Artist team assignments on April 2nd.

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[vaginadentatacas]

FINAL RESULTS ARE IN! congratulations pimpmobile x impala for being voted fan favorite rarepair! i would put a badly photoshopped image of the two cars kissing with cartoon hearts around them here, but I’m lazy and admittedly terrible with PS. so just imagine i did that okay

[angelsberrymilk]

when soldier boy finally cracks and decides he wants to fuck Sammy, I imagine it goes something like this;

+18 mdni. dark content ahead. non-con

soldier boy buys lube and doesn't bother w condoms cuz men don't get pregnant, duh. when he comes back to their shared motel room, he locks the door behind him and throws the little bottle by Sammy on the bed. and Sam is confused and a little scared then soldier boy sits on a chair, facing the bed, "Go on, you have 3 minutes to get ready," He says, eyeing the clock on the wall.

Sammy starts sweating and he's about to pass out because, "What are you talking about?"

"Your boypussy, get it nice and wet for me, Sammy," Soldier boy says like it's the most obvious thing in the world and Sammy is red in the face, sweating and shaking.

Sam wants to cry because he's trapped, he can't get away even if he wants to, and his lower lip is wobbling and he feels small and weak.

"Come on, don't cry, thank me for giving you a chance to get ready," Soldier boy says, eyes dark and hungry. he gets up from the chair and Sammy flinches as Ben stares at him while running a hand down his beard, like he wants to eat him alive. "Or do you want me to rip you open on my dick? Get in dry? Hm, Sammy?"

Sam shakes his head as he finally start to fumble with his belt buckle to try and save his inner organs from super dick.

[spnheadbang]

Coming to you on January 25th, 2025…

Be My Master

Written by @Masoena, with art by @adromelke

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6,372

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte

Ships: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Benny

Tags: Modern Setting AU, BDSM, Safe sane and consensual, Suit Kink, Top Cas, Bottom Dean, Meet-cute, Lawyer Cas, Karaoke DJ Dean

Summary: Karaoke DJ Dean sings to high-flying law firm executive Castiel Novak that he would like him to be his master and that he’d be his good boy. Cas delivers exactly what Dean is asking for and more. 

Fic inspired by: “I Wanna Be Your Slave” by Måneskin

[worlds-worst-ships]

Do you ship it? (Doctor, I have no idea how this much petrol got up my urethra, nor how this gearstick snapped off in my rear edition)

Based on an idea by @chaosducks

Thank you for the idea, Gabriel. This is from supernatural, yeah? I've never seen it. Dunno what it is. Hopefully I got it right, do be patient, I'm an old man.

Thats a damn nice car, though. Might ship him with Kevin Levin next.

[inthemourninglight]

Pls tell me your spn rarepairs in the comments or tags or literally wherever I need to know what I’m missing out on

[farenmaddox]

Additional excerpt from the "Mick is my precious bean" fic (previous excerpt here). Why? Because I CAN and I am HYPE and I want to keep the momentum going. I have 14k already and I will proooooobably finish somewhere between 20-25K. GUYS, it's so fun. My boy Mick!!!

-------------------------------------

“Can I help? I’m no chef but I can chop an onion.”

“Nah, I’m just making beef stew, nothing I can’t handle,” Dean said jovially while going to the fridge and pulling out a bottle of some no doubt piss-awful American lager and handing it over. He picked up his own drink and clinked their bottles together. “What’s all that, anyway?”

“Most of it is what I believe you like to call rabbit food,” Mick said dryly. “But I thought you might like bangers and mash, so I bought supplies. I can make it tomorrow if you like.”

“Banger what?”

“It’s sausages and mashed potatoes in onion gravy.”

“Nice. Sounds awesome. Consider yourself on kitchen rotation. But if you ever try to make tofu in here, I’ll have to fumigate the whole place, so don’t even think about it.”

“Noted.”

“So you guys were gone for a long time,” Dean said in a questing tone.

Mick didn’t freeze, because he was trained not to. He just continued pulling vegetables out of the bags and lining them up in the refrigerator. “Time got away. I had a lot of things I needed. I apologize if I took up too much of Castiel’s time.”

“Dude, no, what? You don’t need to apologize to me, and I promise he would have ditched your ass if he thought he had something more important to do. He’s fucking great at that. I was just making conversation.”

Mick was sure Dean had some sort of suspicion that it wasn’t merely a shopping trip between near-strangers, and he was clearly quite upset with Castiel. The less he said, the better. Dean let it go, and they wound up spending the rest of the time it took to prepare the stew with Dean properly filling Mick in on what had happened during the time he’d been laying low. Being trapped in the Bunker, how they’d gotten out, their assault on HQ and how Ketch, Dr. Hess, and Lady Bevell had all wound up dead. Crowley suddenly turning up with the unwelcome news that Lucifer was free. Racing to the cabin where Castiel had hidden Kelly and Jack (which put Dean’s earlier complaint about Castiel into context). The alternate dimension, the death of Crowley.

Mick had given up on beer and was drinking from a kindly-offered bottle of rotgut whiskey by the time Dean leaned out into the hall to shout “Chow time!” and the others started to file in. Hearing about what his colleagues had done here was hard, especially that they’d let Lady Bevell get her hands on Mary. It was baffling that they’d been willing to let Mick walk back in the door at all, considering they still associated him mainly with his dead colleagues. He thought they might not have been as generous if he hadn’t turned up in the nick of time to knock Lucifer back into the other dimension.

“Hey, Mick, you okay?” Sam asked jovially, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by.

Mick was a bit tipsy, and he blinked at Sam with wide eyes. “The front half of my car is in another dimension,” he said. “I…”

Dean laughed. “Man, I wish I’d actually gotten to see it. I was too busy getting tackled into the dirt. Cas, man, you couldn’t have tackled us the other way so we could see Lucifer’s fucking face when he went flying?”

Castiel stalked in, rolling his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Dean, next time I’m preventing you from being hit by a car, I will think harder about the view.”

[orphiclovers]

not to sound actually unhinged but people who draw ship art with dkos saving astronaut!yjh when it was SP who did that Clearly Detected the spyjh vibes in that scene and are too afraid to admit it to themselves. im only half joking when i say this btw you have to admit i have a little bit of a point. if theres no romantic tension there why are we putting kdj in sp's spot huh. checkmate nonbelievers /lh

[drfrankensteinvsthequeerborgs]

MIDAM DINER DATE THIS IS NOT A DRILL

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Sarah Blake/Bela Talbot. One of them's a catgirl. You're interested?? Read it!! Sarah's a really fun POV to write!

For the Suptober prompts Black Cat and Portrait. Below is the opening:

Sarah Blake looks at the paper-covered painting she'd spent the past three weeks searching for, a glass of wine half-drunk in her hand. The painting is propped against the fireplace, and it looms, as portraits tend to. B, the little black cat that had followed her home from the auction house - the same day as when she got the commission, now she comes to think of it - sits upright next to her legs on the couch, ears twitching away from her fingers whenever she tried to stroke her. 

That's unusual, for this cat. Typically, she'd sprawl out over any available surface, mewl for attention until she got head scratches, and purr contentedly any time Sarah put her hands on her. Now she was stiff, tense. 

The only time Sarah had seen her like that before was when she'd tried to put a collar on her¹, and she'd ended up scratched and bitten so badly she'd had to go to the ER. When she got back, B wouldn't look at her, but kept following her from room to room, hissing if Sarah turned her face to her. Sarah, feeling incredibly guilty, had apologised out loud and showed B that she put the collar in the garbage, only realising after she'd done it that of course a cat wouldn't know what any of that meant. 

Strangely, though, it seemed to work. B had come back purring as soon as the lid closed over the trash. She even licked the bandage over Sarah's cuts, and pushed her head into her hand. 

B's a pretty funny cat overall. She has this unimpressed stare she levels at Sarah for such uncouth behaviour as 'bouncing a toy near her' and 'putting out cat food'². She gave a token grumble whenever Sarah scooped her up like a baby, but would dig her claws in if Sarah tried to put her down again before she was ready. She hops onto the counter when Sarah brings her research home (which is more often than she probably should, but hell, what else has she got to do on a Friday night?) and stares at the papers like she's reading them. More than once, B had put her paw on just the information Sarah had been looking for just after Sarah remarked on how she needed it³. 

"My good luck girl," Sarah had praised, and kissed B's furry little head. B's hackles had gone up from the smooch, but then she seemed to calm herself deliberately, and she flopped over the papers like she'd lost all her bones in a fit of lazy decadence. 

In the present, Sarah swirls her wine and surveys the hidden painting. 

"What do you think is wrong with it, B?" 

She's supposed to burn it. That's what the note said, which she'd found in an envelope taped to the back of the Picasso she'd just purchased. The note had been written in wobbly scratches of biro, addressed directly to her. It was lucky she was adept at reading awful handwriting - in the archiving business, it's essential - because the script was only barely legible. There had been $32,000 dollars in the envelope too. 

The flat out work of the last few weeks had been for the money and the chance at more,  she wasn't going to deny that, but part of it was her overactive curiosity. 

What's wrong with it? Ava's first thought had been haunting. She'd waved her EMF machine at it half heartedly after the delivery guy left, but the needles stayed dissatisfyingly still. She'd bought the thing on Amazon when a friend mentioned cold spots, but it turned out they'd just had a fault in their double glazing⁴. She hasn't heard from them in a while, not directly, but from her Facebook feed she knows that they haven't been murdered in their bed by a malevolent spirit so far. Which is good! Just, well, a little disappointing, is all...

Read more on ao3

¹ The collar was baby pink, and had a little bell on the end.

² Sarah's never seen her eat it, but it always disappears by morning.

³ So, she talks to her cat, so what? Before B, she'd talk through her process with her toaster.

[woundlingus]

The Heat Of Magic

Rating; Explicit

Fandom; Supernatural

Relationship; Kali/Rowena

Additional Tags; Past Gabriel/Kali, Sex Magic, Tribbing, Orgasm Denial, Magic, Cunnilingus

Summary; Left behind in the bunker while the Winchesters chase after the leads Rowena had given them on where they could find Gabriel, Rowena pulls the string to the one lead that she just can’t seem to crack. She knows there’s Gabriel DNA on the other end of it, but the being she summons is far from a broken down and weakened archangel.

[angelsberrymilk]

I need more of Sammy and Soldier Boy.. pleaseee 🥹🥹🥹

Im going feral over them and I need to be satiated.

samboy (Sam winchester x soldier boy/ben)

aprox. 800 words

tags: +18 mdni. non-con (this is RAPE), abuse, crying, near-death experience, guilt, hallucination (?), feminization, general dark yucky stuff knowing soldier boy, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

soldier fucks Sam like he wants to kill him. like he wants to brand him from the inside out.

the room is filled with wet sounds, the continuous sound of their skin slapping together, ass to hips, lube messily spread between Sammy's thighs, his angry red cock swinging under him as Soldier boy holds him by the neck like an unruly dog, pinning him to the bed on his stomach, his back arched and his eyes rolled back.

his long legs are spread apart. his hole fluttering around Soldier boy's thick cock, stretching and squeezing around him. He can't help it. not when soldier boy feels warm on top of him, how he grunts and moans and praises him and calls him filthy names in the same breath, right in his ear, his beard rubbing his skin raw. He smells good too, musky and manly with a hint of sweat, so familiar, so close to home. too close to home.

It's so good that it hurts, and with each thrust Sammy's mind chips away and his memory gets weaker, forgetting how he even ended up in this position. Forgetting that Soldier Boy came in and threw a bottle of lube at him, telling him he has only 3 minutes to get ready. told him how it was nice of him to even give Sammy a heads up. he should consider himself lucky. that he should be thankful. Come on, Sammy, thank him. 

Thank him for rearranging your guts while you tried to fight him off. 

Thank him for holding you down as you couldn't even cry as he ripped your trousers off.

Thank him from the same mouth you're wailing and moaning on his cock. 

Sam tries to be quiet, to hold on until the man above him takes his fill, but he can't keep his mouth close, noises punched out of him, his tongue heavy in his mouth, he can't speak, the only sounds coming out of him are primal, pained and animalistic.

"Look at your little hole, boy am I glad I can fit in there without ripping your pussy, would be a shame if I did," Soldier boy says, satisfied beyond measure. a deathgrip on Sammy's tan waist, thumbing at the sweat-wet skin. 

Sam feels like he's going to pass out, his ears ringing, and he can't control his mouth. His tongue feels too heavy for his mouth, weak, as if he'd been stung by bees right in there, clogging his throat shut. Sam's eyes are wet and his cheeks even more so, he can taste blood and he can hear Dean calling out his name, the sun coming in from the windows bright and harsh. Sam isn't sure he's breathing, can't tell and then suddenly he feels cold and his eyes focus in a startling clarity. 

“Hey, don't you pass out on me, boy” Dean grits his teeth. 

Sam starts crying all over again, or maybe he's never stopped, or hasn't, who knows. His head was stuffed with marijuana smoke, the smell of beer, sweat, lube, mould and blood. 

Dean is mean. 

Dean is being mean to him. 

Sammy wants to whine, wants to cry big fat tears, push him off and wail in his babybrother voice, tell him how he almost killed him, how he lost himself and almost crushed his neck in his chemically enhanced strength. It wasn't Sammy's fault!

Sam suddenly feels hot from the inside, his eyes roll back and he thinks he's smiling thinking one of his organs finally ripped apart and is bleeding, that he'll float and go join his brother, in a heaven only built for them. 

He must be making an awful lot of noise when Dean is shaking him by the shoulders, “Calm down, Sammy,”

Sam feels his soul dragged back down to earth and he realises he was the one shaking, his stomach, chest and chin are sticky with his own cum. Sam's sight is blurry when he slowly lifts his head and looks down his body, expecting to see a puddle of blood but instead all he sees is Ben's soft cock, wet and pink, horrifyingly gorgeous. 

“Stop being a fucking pussy, I just came inside you, you're fine.” Ben says and Sam didn't even realise he was talking. 

Sam was about to say something but instead his eyes rolled back and that's the last thing he remembers before he passes out, sticky with cum, sweat and tears, and not a single drop of blood in sight, only the one in his mouth, from his own doing. sinful blood trying to choke him, end his wretched life to deliver the world from his existence.

tags cuz thank u sm for sharing my love for these two 💚

@klingyklaus @toasty-broski @28confusedthoughts @winchesterdefender @blackkmariah @106skin @redpopcat @arwenadreamer @nguyetdahuong @asongfortheunloved @rancidlovers @bcatwinchest @supfan67 @unabashedhonesty @hellfire-fist @nanacupid @arthrodira @loserluizard @jocelynfan @waywardsamdean @sastielbeltscene @sam-sinchester @masoena @winchestermylove @sammybeann @azrielrose @saltmonellas @boypussysam @monkibizznes @daddysboydean @notanotherthembo @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @katamcauley @sams-princess-hair @redcl8ver @yuetyin940 @loserluizard @arthrodira @runawaydr3amerao3 @giulmu

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

A fuck ton of David Haydn-Jones, Arthur Ketch, for possible fics.

Now they exist…

[onlyasimp4nobody]

*fades in* your thoughts on drowley are goated *fades out*

NO NO NO DON'T FADE OUT GET OFF ANON AND KISS ME NOW

[densewentz]

Here's to desperately scrambling to get my brain to latch onto a hyperfixation during an absolute Low Point like a frazzled and exhausted parent waving every toy they have in front of a hysterical toddler