A collection of short fan fiction prompts I've done elsewhere. From Supernatural, to Voltron, Transformers, Doctor Who and more. Various character pairing and some readerxcharacter. Sit back, scroll through, and enjoy. Warnings will be posted as nee...
This is just a little reader insert fic I wrote on my Supernatural Amino and felt like sharing with Wattpad community. Enjoy. (Y/N stands for your name). Mild swearing and blood ahead. Gif with a bit of a light flash at the end
"Dean! Hurry up you're gonna make us late!" Sam yelled from other end of the war room.
"I'm coming, hold your horses!" Dean shouted back, yanking his tie into position. "Have you seen Y/N?"
"I think they said something about feeling sick, they said they'd join us later. We gotta go, we can't keep those local cops waiting forever." Sam groaned, grabbing Dean's suit sleeve and pulling him towards the garage.
"But..."
"They'll be fine, I left Y/N a note, we'll only be gone for a few hours."
"Fine, give me the keys."
Several bloodied hours later...
"Fricking Rugarus man, I hate those sons of bitches!" Dean spat flicking a glob of dried blood off his dark suit. "Damn, this was new..."
"At least you weren't the one standing behind the thing when it was ganked." Sam offered, running his red stained hands through his hair, causing bits of flesh to fall out with the motion. "I think I'm going to take an hour long shower, or until the water runs cold, which ever happens first"
"I'm right there with you, go first, I'm gonna check on Y/N" Dean spoke grimacing as he caught his reflection.
As Sam made his way off towards the shower, Dean popped into the kitchen, grabbing a beer and some soup out of the fridge. Twisting the lid off of the bottle, he took a deep swig of the booze before setting it down to warm up the soup. Minutes ticked by on the microwave until a loud ding brought Dean back to his sense. Carefully grabbing the hot bowl he made his way over to Y/N room, beer in one hand soup in the other.
"Y/N? Are ya up?" Dean gently asked, rapping on the door with the neck of the beer bottle.
No response. Gently, Dean pushed open the door, trying not to spill the soup and burn himself.
"Y/N?" Dean murmured, setting down the soup and beer on a table near the door. The dark room was deadly still, not even a rustle of sheets, or a soft breath made it's way to the hunter's ear. Dean padded his way over to bed, careful not to step on any of the old creaky floorboards that seemed to plague the bunker. "Y/N, I brought you some soup, you should try and eat something."
Slowly Dean lowered himself down to the side of the bed, his hand reaching up to the dark shape of their head. "Y/N?" He questioned pulling the blanket back. Even in the dark he could tell something was wrong.
Flicking the light on, Dean turned his gaze back to the bed. At first he thought it was just a trick of the light, but as his eyes adjusted he could tell it wasn't.
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