Sam + Phone.

+ Masterlist.

As a general note, I am a huge hurt!Sam person, so if you're looking for specific hurt!fic for the other characters you might be limited here! I'll be sure to note if there is any hurt fics for other characters in the summary, if you want to search that out. Also, I'm not a Wincest or Destiel person, so if you're looking for romance between the boys, I'm not likely to have it, sorry. MAYBE SASTIEL SOMEDAY ONCE OR SOMETHING, but other than that, it's all Gen.


Author's Note Verse The End spoilers. End!verse. A collection in a verse I wrote, in which Sam regains control of his body, saves Dean and his crew, and then leaves. The link leads to a masterpost with all entries so far for this verse!

Sammy Will be Five Tomorrow — Mary is alive instead of Sam and contemplates her life in Ellen’s bar. Slight Ellen/Mary undertones. The first entry of Tomorrowverse.

That's a Good Year — Dean POV. Sequel to the above Sammy Will be Five Tomorrow. John finds Sam, but he has him on lock-down until they can figure out what’s wrong with him. Dean doesn’t like it.

Just Sleep — A third addition. “Just don’t die,” Dean whispers into wet hair, sweaty himself from the furnace that is his baby brother.

The Long Calendar — Post-Swan Song AU. One time a month every month on Earth, Sam leaves the Cage and visits Dean for one day.

Through the Seasons — A sequel to The Long Calendar. Sam copes with Hell, and Dean tries to make the most of it for them.

A Little Extra — Third installment, and a nicer one. Sam goes on a date (and hopes he doesn't fuck it up).


These are either standalone, or certain mini-verses aren't expanded enough to get it's own verse page. Enjoy!

Like Groundhog Day — Set during Mystery Spot. "Whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional had never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy, Full Metal Jacket." Spoilers for Mystery Spot. After the a few dozen days watching his brother die over and over again, Sam gets angrier. By the 200th time? He starts getting angry and desperate; maybe if Sam dies, this loop'll break.

Repeat After Me — Set during the late half of Season 8. "And we're gonna help you get better, okay? No matter what it takes." In 8.17, there's a warehouse full of dead Dean Winchesters. But what was the fate of the taller brother going to be? To Naomi, it's simple: give him what he rightfully deserves, after all the pain he's caused.

above the surface — For Triple Play at ohsam, for this prompt! Takes place during Season 8, before the Trials. Sam always feels like he's drowning, and Dean just wishes he could speak up. Sometimes it's more literal than it should be"No words, no excuses, no pleading for Dean to fight it." Mostly limp!Sam-related, with a bit of hurt!Dean.

Illegible — For Triple Play at ohsam. Takes place during Season 6, when Sam's wall seems to give in, bow a little, and something bad happens... and Dean wonders if Sam's still Sam.

don't scratch the wall/mark — For Sam's birthday commentfic post at ohsam. Spoilers for 9.16, AU'd. "It's only been a few years since he jumped and it'll never be long enough." Magnus does more than simply cut Sam. It takes Crowley longer to get to the boys, which leaves Magnus to torture Sam while a helpless Dean watches.

Into the Night — For Sam's birthday commentfic post at ohsam. Probably happens post-series. Sam and Dean finally go to Disneyland.

Born Again Verse (Masterlist/currently on hold) — S5 spoilers/AU. Castiel retrieves Sam Winchester from Hell. It doesn't work out.

first steps — AU that covers pre-series to Season 5 finale. "Would you like to help your brother with therapy?" Sam is born with a disability, and not much changes.

Goodbye — Pre-series. A boy gives a dog to a stranger. Outsider POV.

Checking Out — Spoilers up to 10x18. Sam asks Dean to spar, and leaves some of his feelings on the table.

Obeys — Remember that powder Magnus had, in season 9, that could control people? So does Dean. (Darkfic)

Obeys Pt. II — The aftermath of Obeys. Sam tries to sort everything out. (Darkfic)

Survivor — 10x03 AU. An alternate and horrible scene to 10x03.  "He twitches like a wilted bug, trying to force blood-crusted eyes open. His head hurts. Why does it hurt, again? He wishes he could remember."

SAM CALLING... — S9 AU. Sam leaves after Gadreel leaves. Years go by. This is what happens when Sam calls.

Abomination — Pre-First Born, Season 9. Castiel and Sam talk about abominations. It’s awkward but kind of pleasant anyway.

GLOW/Lopsided — Two little prompts put together! Same verse as each other.  Jess is about to give birth, and Sam panics a lot. The second half is a flash forward in their quiet little lives.

It's Not a Baby, It's a Timebomb — Sam goes back in time thanks to a god’s powers and considers a very grim alternative to surviving his crib. Darkfic.

Lock the Front Door / Men in Hospital Beds — “Maybe if she hadn’t caught sight of a familiar hulking figure in her peripheral, she would have had a better chance at being professional today.” A Madison/Sam AU where both are teachers, post-S8. Madison meets Professor Winchester at a cafe. Mention of not-actually-self-inflicted scarring. Sick!Sam. SEQUEL ALSO INCLUDED!

How the Wild Things Are Made — 9x23 AU. "Send out the next bloodbath!" Sam is kidnapped and taken to a horrible, horrible place.

I Think I Have a Concussion — Season 1. Sam bonks his head hard. Dean is a good bro.
Sam + Dean.

Hanged, Drawn, and Quartered (A Sam Winchester Mini-Bang, 2017)

Wordcount: 8,000+
Rating: Teen to Mature
Pairings: N/A, Gen
Summary: For the Sam Winchester Big Bang on tumblr! "Bar fight. Don't tell Dean. I don't want to hear it. You just... You understand best. You get it best, y'know? You get me." Death brings Sam back — sort of. A domestic, curtain-fic sort of piece that explores different sections of what makes Sam Winchester. An alternative to S07E01, where raising our boy's soul doesn't go exactly to plan.

Warning for psychological issues, mental anguish, mentions of torture, and so on. Also has minor self-harm (unintentional harm).

ART MASTERPOST (potential spoilers ahoy)


The soul is indestructible. But sometimes you can tear it into strips, like tattered cloth.


Samuel, he's called.

He kind of picked it himself, because it just seemed logical — that was his name for better or worse. Fit him better than Sammy or Sam, molded around him like a sterile glove pulled over his fingertips, hugging at the wrist. Dean had a hell of a time saying it without any jest ("Samuel, Samuel — that sounds like I'm getting mad at you for not eating your carrots."), and he still looks like he's trying too hard to get his mouth to form the syllables. Whatever. Samuel can leave him to his battles. As long as he's got work to do and a steady income to put toward the house, which always seems to need something worked on. It's been a year since they bought the little white and green house that sits twenty minutes outside of town (and a few hours drive away from Bobby's clunky junkyard where his soul had been resurrected), and things... settle. Settle as best they can, anyway. The sun says hello, the sun says goodbye, and the pages on the calendar rip away beneath his calloused fingers.

Cheap houses mean a lot of construction, which worked out, because they'd both swapped out their guns for hammers to pay the bills. The guy who owned the house before them tore half the place apart for rennovations... and then croaked before he ever finished them. Grief notwithstanding, the son was more than happy to have the land off his hands. Dean's repaired the floors, and Samuel's worked on the yard and all the scrap left there (rusted metal, the husks of dead tree branches, pepsi cans from a habitual guzzler), and — well, he's not sure where the cats came from, but he's determined not to feed them; it only makes them come back more.

Yeah. Things are as normal as they get. Life without hunting.

... For the most part.

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Jo + Smile.


Hey guys, this is my artist masterpost for CeKayCe's wonderful fanfic, A Thirst For Knowledge!! I had a ton of fun whipping these together. I did a pencil base and put some fun textures over the images, and then digitally filled in the colors. I hope you guys like it! Be sure to check out the fanfic OVER HERE AT HER MASTERPOST! ♥

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Sam + Dean.

Tether // A Sam Winchester Mini-Bang 2016

Summary: "It's hard to explain, what if feels like to just — stop being whole. I remember thinking about it a lot, when Dad and Dean started actually letting me go on hunts, you know...? I wondered what pain felt like to them, when they don't have the chemicals and nerves for it, no bodies to replicate the feeling. I wondered what tethers them to that kind of hurt, instead of running away from it."

Author's notes: I have an addiction to rough Sam-related fanfiction, it's true. This art/art banner is by the lovely chomaisky!! Send them much love. The original artwork post is located over here! Hope you like it, this is my first written mini-bang for the occasion. This piece takes place earlier in Supernatural! Which I'm sure people will figure out right away, haha. Enjoy!

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Sam + Dean.

Liquor Is One Way Out, and Death's The Other

AUTHOR'S NOTES: For a prompt requested at tumblr. Sorry if it’s heavier than even the prompt is expecting — this is actually kind of a really personal piece in a lot of ways, as something I’ve had to deal with in the past, so it was a bit emotional to throw this all out there and write it up. It deals with very strong and verbally/physically abusive alcoholism and isn’t a very nice Dean to read about, though I will say it is not evil!Dean, simply my rendering of a severely alcoholic Dean who’s negative character traits are especially vicious.


It’s been five years since the Darkness, since everything was put back together and everything had a system — the Bunker was expanded on, hunters brought in, taught, trained. There were hours of operation, meetings, new recruits who demanded revenge (though Sam had always tried to drive home that revenge would kill you faster than any vamp ever did, in the ways that mattered; he would always make that note, and Dean would nod and agree, a knowingness in his eyes).

But still, when it came to living there, it was the same as it ever was: a guest room for Cas, and then their rooms. Home. As close as it’ll ever get to one, though Sam has never let his guard down there. The walls of his living quarters is still brick and bare, his shelves lined with mostly lore books, desk neat and clothes still carefully in his duffel when they’re not lazily left on the floor from the day before. Sam hasn’t moved in. Sam simply knows better. His brother, however — his room is expanded and personal, and Sam would never want to change that; his room has his scent of leather and gasoline and gun grease, of trash that seriously needed to be emptied out, of liquor. More bottles than Sam would ever like.

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Sam + Phone.

Obeys Pt. II

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Sequel to Obeys; it’s a very, very dark mini-verse, and this follow-up is not very comforting or happy, so be warned if you’re looking for a decent resolution, because it’s alllll paaaain. Doesn’t have any huge trigger/content warnings, other than mentions of gore/self-harm/body horror-ish stuff. Just a line or two of mentioning what happens in the original prompt, anyways.


Sam hates that after all of these concussions, all of these possessions, all of these fucked-up things that had happened to his head… a spell by his brother is what does him in. Granted, it was an accumulation of horrible things he doesn’t want to ever, ever talk about. It was killing human beings at Dean’s command. It was not so much as pissing without his brother’s word. It was being used as a step-stool, or to guard Dean’s door in silence, night after night from anyone who could try anything funny. It was Dean, Dean, Dean, and all the while without a voice, without anything. And now… now Dean wants him to just be him. How is he supposed to do that? He’s still under Dean’s fucking finger, whether he likes it or not. The spell isn’t gone. It probably never will be.

He stands in the kitchen, staring at the fridge, when Dean walks over reluctantly to his side. He hasn’t been doing too hot lately, bags under his eyes and this beaten look on his face like Sam was the one hurting him. Frustrated tears sting his eyes, and his stomach growls angrily. He’s so hungry, but he isn’t supposed to ask for food, to talk about it, and the spell is strong in the wake of Dean’s being cured.

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Sam + Darkness.

I Think I Have a Concussion

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This one takes place in S1, because I could really use from S1 babies. Just a simple hurt/comfort fic of some limp!Sam.
WARNINGS: head injury, concussion, haha.

The sound of a skull hitting the side of a car door at break-neck speeds isn’t exactly the best sound in the world to Dean’s ears, but he’d have preferred it not be his brother doing the skull-thumping. For a moment his insides are ice-cold, and he wonders if this at all is what it’s like to feel like a ghost — because Sam just crumples like a over-sized doll, a plaything to someone else, with no consideration for its parts. The junkyard is eerily silent for a split moment before Dean is unfrozen, focused long enough to fire a round of rock salt into the misty figure in the air.

Then he lunges, scooping up the lighter Sam had dropped when he was so brutally flung. Before he can even get his thoughts coherently sorted, there are bones blazing up and the ghost is screaming with a wide, gaping mouth. Then it’s gone. And Sam is not budging an inch, all sprawled, lanky limbs and wild locks that are curled in sweat on his forehead. His eyes are open — just open, staring at nothing, and Dean nearly screams, because Sam looks dead, he’s broken his fucking neck and he’s dead, oh fuck, oh no, no

He collapses next to him as he flips him over with his hands keeping his neck as straight as possible. It’s too much like a corpse. He’s limp and Dean’s pretty near hysterics before he notices Sam’s eyes fluttering; there’s a big red stain on the crown of his head, where skin split from the impact, but he’s breathing beneath Dean’s fingers. He’s not dead. He’s not dead. He’s unconscious. Or maybe he’s fucking paralyzed. Dean breathes out shakily, running a hand over his hair as he thinks about what to do; he should call 911. Cover everything up and tell them they were fucking around and Sam fell hard.

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Sam + Blood.

How the Wild Things Are Made

Notes: This is a combo prompt filler! One was that while Sam was knocked out, he’d be taken by someone/something in 9x23. The other was his hair getting forcefully cut. I've also went ahead and added the second entry to this mini-verse to this as well, so you're getting both prompts in one package here. It seemed to flow well enough that way! Please Enjoy, but keep in mind the warnings for the following: kidnapping, violence/gore, death, child trauma, traumatic situations, mature themes like forced fighting.

This is where it starts — the brightly lit ring, the screams, the glinting of knives, the baring of teeth. This, right here, is where it begins. Sam turns to Dean, Metatron just a hero’s walk away, and Dean slams his fist into the side of Sam’s face. It will bruise, but that’s not the point. Sam will not face Metatron’s blade and wrath, but that is not the point. The point is, Dean puts Sam’s hands on his chest, the action sickly sweet like perfume left on a tacky, bloated corpse — and then he walks away. He leaves Sam, dreaming black dreams on the ground, just outside of the impala. Baby does not protect him when one of Abaddon’s followers finds him. Baby does not scream for help or look for Dean when the demons drag Sam’s unconscious body away.

When Dean leaves Metatron’s burnt-out husk, his bones screaming ecstasy from the kill, he finds Sam gone.

Sam kicks and growls and turns into an animal as they hold him still; there’s a demon on every limb, clinging with inhuman strength, and one has him by the collar while another has him by the waistband. They hoist him steady, his body belly-down and hovering diagonal in the yellow light from above, while he thrashes and curses and spits blood. There is a SNICKT SNICKT SNICKT of scissors, as then soft tufts of brown hair snow down, drifts until it rests in piles on the stained cement floor. His stomach is punched for good measure (or perhaps simply because demons can’t go long without being fucking assholes) and he’s thrown backward into a cage that barely fits his legs, pushed ridiculously up against his chest. He doesn’t stop thrashing for a long time — and doesn’t bother yelling for help, because he knows there’s nobody here who can do anything at all.

He shakily runs his hand over his head, feeling the bristles of his hair, how it nearly sits upright on his scalp, how it’s uneven and all foreign ridges, like the high and low points of a heart monitor. Then, though one eye is swollen shut, he surveys his impossible surroundings: the room is dark, just a mass of swirling, nearly invisible colors, but there are moans and growls and inhuman sounds chiming from all around him. His eye adjusts enough that he swears he sees the flash of claws, somewhere close by. His stomach churns at the sound of them scraping up and down metal.

“… Hello?” he tries, swallowing his nausea.

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Sam + Pride

Lock the Front Door / Men in Hospital Beds (Madison/Sam AU)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a weird little AU where Sam quits the Trials post-S8, but instead of spiraling into death he’s simply not in shape enough to hunt anymore (so you get hot!sickly!Sam don’t judge me). He retires and goes back to school; obviously, Madison not being a super!dead werewolf is also AU’d, and she is a fellow teacher. YOU’RE GONNA JUST HAVE TO ACCEPT MY CONVULTED AU LEANINGS. Also I am totally unfamiliar with school and college from a teacher perspective forgive me. Also mentions of not-actually-self-harm, just FYI.

Features some sick!Sam and some Madison/Sam.

I. Lock the Front Door

Madison sits calmly at the diner with a pen at her teeth and a laptop in front of her, getting herself lost and distracted by the hum of conversation and the smell of coffee beans; she loves this place, enjoys the sort of isolated togetherness, if that at all makes sense, even if her guard is always up (because when it comes to matters of restraining orders, it still pays to be watchful). It’s 4:30 and she still hasn’t even breached the bulk of reading through the whirlwind of essays and Q&A’s that her students are too certain are concocted simply as torture.

Maybe if she hadn’t caught sight of a familiar hulking figure in her peripheral, she would have had a better chance at being professional today. Someone’s ordering a coffee — someone who’s mane you could spot from pretty far away. She couldn’t help but smile at the thought, watching the oh-so-familiar man step aside, fiddle with his vest and coat as he anticipated the caffeine. Lately, she’s kept her distance from any new faces — Kurt is still a bitter memory that is certainly not that old — but Professor Winchester has been an earnest guy, out of the way, thoughtful and focused on his work. He’d been invited to a few special occasions in their little network, what with him being this mysterious new guy, though he had always seemed to shrink back and walk into whatever little abode he had somewhere out there, huddled in his own personal quietness. However, Madison had taken a liking to him too quickly. He was a good listener, and when she caught him here, she couldn’t help but give him a bit of a hard time.

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Sam + Phone.

It's Not a Baby, It's a Timebomb

Author's Note: I am a terrible person. Here you go!

Warnings for attempted suicide (murder?), self-hate, negative thoughts and suicidal thoughts, lack of self-worth things, suicidal ideation.



It’s strange, how well he remembers a place he hadn’t been to since he was six months old. But his old room is all too familiar — the mobile, the clock on the wall, the blue tint that hasn’t gone orange yet.

He was stuck. Stranded back in time, in some familiar pocket of universe; the idea to return to this place hadn’t even necessarily been his own. It had been more-so from the lips of a god, one who had rolled his eyes and spoke with wry annoyance at even the appearance of a Winchester in his day. It would have been so much easier if you had died. That’s what he’d said. Why here? Why now? Sam had tried to comprehend it. He’d been a fan of It’s a Wonderful Life, and isn’t this just the very opposite of that tale? Where’s his Clarence? Because he could use Cas right about now. Then again, maybe he didn’t deserve divine intervention; maybe this is just what he needed, after seeing all those glimpses of the future —

— watching his mother laughing, sun in her hair, smiling and alive; there’s Dean, all freckles and vibrant energy, nothing like the silent and sometimes cold kid Sam remembers, who would watch him like a guard, a hawk, protective but distant, supportive at some of those times where things felt too heavy. Dad… Dad is happy. He doesn’t look like he smells of alcohol and corpse-fueled smoke. He’s carrying Dean on his shoulders, helping him across the monkey bars, and Dean looks loved, and Mary looks loved, and John looks loved — and Sam is not there —

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