Are you ready? 

You’re ready.

Alright, so, here’s the surprise I told you about earlier:

NOW you can have this little neat thing called InteractiveFics - a Chrome extension (like a mini-app for your browser) developed by yours truly. 

What does it do? Simple, like the box you see before my fics, this replaces (all variations of) “Y/N” everywhere for you, right from your browser, without needing anything from the writer’s side. That includes the tumblr dashboard, AO3,, all blogs and pretty much most websites out there (except  INCLUDING Wattpad. Wattpad is evil. And by evil I mean it uses a different interface that I’m yet to include support for).

It’s free, it’s fast, it’s convenient and you can download it now from here.

You can also grab a badge for your blog here.

More info on how it works.

Happy reading! (Oh and if you have any comments/bug reports, please do send them my way!)

Dad: *comes into my room*

Me: *looks up from VERY dirty and very entertaining Destiel smut.* “Yeah?”

Dad: “Who can you. Still possibly be texting?”

Me: “I’m not texting any one, I’m reading.

Dad: "Really? All this time?”
Me: “yes”

Dad: “read me a sentence.

Me: *looks down at phone and reads line to herself. ‘The Angel Cried out in pure ecstasy as Dean pushed himself deeper, moaning his love’s name as he did. 'Harder, please Dean, harder,’ Castiel whispered.’



Me: I’m lying, I’m texting my friend, she says hi.

"'Close' Friends" Supernatural One Shot

Author: pineapplegirl123

Original Imagine: Imagine the Impala being full of stuff, so you have to sit on Cas’ lap.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,287


“Okay. The car’s packed up. Ready to go?” Dean asked, looking right at me.

“Oh, yeah because I’m always the last one ready.” I crossed my arms as Cas and Sam went out the door to the car.

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Under a spell

Request: “May I request a fic where deans under a truth spell where he tells the reader he thinks of her when he gets off and after it the spell is gone he doesn’t remember so the reader either surprises him with his fantasy or she confronts him about it. And I mean smut obvi, cause who doesn’t love it? Ahha is this weird? I think it might be hilarious and awesome. Hehe” by winchester-files

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: SMUT!, language

Words: 1923

“It says the spell will force the victim to speak their mind. They won’t be able to hold back their thoughts, neither will they have the ability to lie,” Sam said, his eyes on the faded ink of the ancient book pages. He exhaled loudly. “So basically, Dean will tell us the truth and he will uncontrollably put every single one of his thoughts into words. Nothing will be left unspoken. He won’t be in control of it. That’s going to be fun.”

Dean had been cursed by the witch that we’d hunted. She’d put him under a truth spell before passing away, yelling Latin words under her breath. Dean had fallen asleep on his bed after telling me how much he adored my cleavage. And that I should show him more of it. He told me he hoped he’d have a wet dream about me and how hot he thought I was. I was surprised. He’d never talked to me like that, we were friends, best friends actually. Almost like brother and sister. Siblings. Completely platonic. It was the first time he’d said something like that. 

When I told Sam about it, he started researching, looking up the witches words in several books in the bunker’s library. I was once again amazed by him. He’d memorized every word of the spell, so that he could figure out what it meant later. There were so many books about witchcraft, so many different charms, but after two hours, Sam found the one that had been put on Dean. And now there we were, at the table, wondering what other things Dean would magically blurt out. 

“And what about a cure?” I asked, drumming my fingers on the wooden table. “We have to brew a potion out of ancient leaves and smashed animal bones… That’s freaking disgusting,” he responded, “he will have to drink it.”

Then he slowly stood up, throwing his jacket over his shoulders. “Okay, I’m heading out, getting the ingredients. You take care of Dean.”

I nodded, standing up, too and walking towards Dean’s room, where he still laid, eyes closed, steadily breathing, his beautifully full lips pursed. I smiled when I saw him, he looked so calm and sweet, so innocent. 

Even though we were nothing more than friends, I always had a thing for him. Everything about him was just so loveable, he had such a good heart, he was a strong man. I knew him, all of him, his curves and his edges, his good and bad sides. His eyes always made my heart jump, the way they sparkled when he laughed, the way they got all dark when he was serious. I wouldn’t exactly call it love, I didn’t really know what that felt like…but the feelings that I had for Dean, they were so close to that. 

Also, Jesus Christ, he was hot as hell. His body, his face, everything. I had never ever been so attracted to someone. And I was sure that he knew exactly how to make a woman feel good. I was sure that he knew how to touch, where to kiss…

I shook my head to get those fantasies out of my brain, to make my imagination stop. I was about to leave the room, when he woke up. 

“Y/N,” he mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He reached out for me. “Come on, lay down with me,” he offered, tapping his hand on the other side of the bed. I wanted it. Be near him, feel his heat, his soft skin against mine. And since he was under a truth spell…that was what he truly wanted, wasn’t it?

I gave in to his request and positioned myself next to him. He put his arm around me, pulling me closer, so that my head was on his chest. I felt his heart beating rapidly, a reaction to my proximity. I smiled.

“You’re under a spell, you know that, right?” I said.

“Yeah, I noticed. I can’t really control what comes out of my mouth. And by the way, it makes me nervous to have you so close. You’re so gorgeous. Sexy, actually.” His reply came fast, it made me giggle a little. “Y/N, your body just makes me crazy. Every time I look at you, I just want to rip off all of your clothes. Fuck you against the wall, I don’t know, I just…those curves. Damn,” he just kept going, talking fast, his voice rising higher with every sentence. He formed a butt with his hands, moving them as if he was grabbing it. 

“Dean, how long has it been since the last time you had sex? You seem a little thirsty,” I sat up, basing myself on my elbows, looking down to into his eyes, smirking. “It’s been so long. I’m just not interested in other women anymore. I just want you,” he replied, his voice hoarse and dark. Heavy, erotic desire swam in it. “I want to fuck you so damn bad, Y/N.”

Everything he said surprised me. I never noticed him looking at me this way, never thought he could want me. But he did. Excitement flooded through my veins, I felt heat rising up inside of me. “Dean, I…” but he interrupted me before I could say anything else. “It’s horrible, Y/N. I never had the courage to touch you, no matter how much I want it. All I can do is…touch myself and think of you”

“You touch yourself thinking of me?”

“Fuck, yes, I jerk off and I imagine you on top of me. I imagine your naked body, riding me as fast as you can. Or me on top, fucking you until you cum. I imagine you screaming my name in pleasure,” his words made me shiver, they set fire inside of me, my pants got wet. Dean would have never said those things without the spell. Bless this witch. 

I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I grabbed him by his cheeks, pushing his lips onto mine, hungrily connecting our tongues. He put his hands on my waist and made me get on top of him. I started grinding him. He moaned, telling me once again how much he adored my body. 

I was about to unbutton his shirt, when Sam knocked on the door. I immediately let go of Dean, getting back up and straightening my clothes.

“I’ve got all the ingredients we need. We can brew the potion now.”

The evening passed quickly. 

The next morning, at seven a.m., I was in the kitchen, sipping on my coffee, reading a journal, when Dean came in. Sam was still asleep. He’d gone to sleep right after finishing the potion and he still slept like a drunk baby.

“Already up?” I said. Dean nodded sleepily, sitting down next to me, snatching my mug and taking a sip of my coffee. “I feel like I’m having the worst hangover ever,” he groaned, “what happened yesterday? I have absolutely no memory of it.”

I held back an unhappy sigh. He didn’t remember his confessions. Didn’t remember telling me about his desires. Didn’t remember the kiss.

But he still had those thoughts…he just didn’t remember that he told me about it. So, I would just have to help him remember…

 “Oh, nothing special. You were under this truth spell. And you told me a lot of truths,” I tried to make my voice sound teasing, flirty, a little mysterious.

“What did I tell you about?” he wanted to know, slightly confused. He put down the mug. I turned to look at him, spreading my legs a little, pulling my shirt further down, showing more skin. I saw his eyes widen, his glance flying over my legs, over my boobs. I smiled victoriously.

“You told me about your fantasies. About what you do when you’re alone,” I emphasized the last word, my voice low.

“My…my…fantasies?” he looked nervous, he knew what I was talking about. I moved my hand to his knee, caressing it, then moving up. He shifted in his seat. “Y/N…”

I stroked his manhood gently, then I let my hand wander to his stomach, slip under his shirt, my fingers running over his muscles. “I want to fulfill your fantasies, Dean,” I whispered, “Tell me what you think about when you get off.”

He exhaled loudly, lust filling his eyes, tinting them forest green. “Y/N, I don’t know how to…”

“Just tell me, Dean. I will do whatever you want me to.”

Hesitantly, he touched my waist. “G…Get on my lap,” he demanded shyly. I did it, feeling his growing bulge under me. “Are you sure, you want this?” he asked, making sure I wanted him the way he wanted me. I kissed him in response, pressing my lips onto his hardly, passionately. He returned it, moaning, his big and strong hands walking over my back, grabbing me tight. He couldn’t hold back anymore, he’d waited for so long.

I started undressing him, tossing his clothes to the ground carelessly. He imitated me, leaving us both in our underwear. 

“Strip for me,” he ordered, a little more confident now. I calmly unclasped my bra, then took of my panties, moving my hips as I did so. There I stood. In front of Dean Winchester. Fully naked. He had to contain himself, clenching his jaw in his needy desire. My fingers went over my stomach, up to my breasts, cupping them, pinching my nipples. He watched me touch myself, clutching his fists, his erected dick pressing against the thin material of his boxers. He wanted me. So bad.

I kept on pleasuring myself, sighing his name, making him strip down his underwear in eagerness.

“I just want to fuck you right here on the table. I need you,” he growled, before lifting me up and laying me down on the kitchen table. I grinned mischievously. He placed another impatient kiss on my lips before pushing into me. He didn’t give me time to adjust, he started thrusting hardly into me right away. He filled my walls completely, stretching me out and I screamed his name in thrilled pleasure. 

“Faster, please,” I begged, and he did so, pumping into me as fast as he could.

“God, Y/N, you feel amazing,” he moaned, clenching his teeth, “Fuck, so good!”

He pushed into me two more times, then he stopped. He made me stand up, then, putting his hand on my butt, he lifted me up. Dean started fucking me while he carried me, hitting spots that had never been touched before, making me feel more than great. Jesus, he felt so good.

“Dean, oh fucking hell!” I whimpered, digging my nails into his back. “Come for me, Y/N,” he groaned loudly, and I did so. My orgasm made my heart race, it picked up an incredibly fast pace, losing it’s natural rhythm.

At the same time, Dean lost it, too, emptying himself inside of me. I was still panting when he placed me back on the table. My eyes were closed, I was catching my breath, when I felt Dean’s tongue working on my womanhood. I gasped heavily. “What are you doing…Oh, Shit!” he flicked his tongue around my clit, slipping it inside of me. It was heaven.

I’d just climaxed a minute ago, but I felt another orgasm building up inside of me.  My hands grabbed his hair. I pulled it when he sent me over the edge again, yelling his name under my breath.

When we got dressed, he smiled. I smiled back. And I thanked the witch for cursing him.

Baby in the Bunker

Word Count: 1,886

Warnings: None

Based off of:  

“What are we supposed to do with it?” Sam questioned while looking down at the squirming bundle in his arms. Sam and Dean were on a vamp hunt when they came across a deceased mother holding tightly to the small 6 month swaddled in a fluffy pink blanket. It seemed that the vamps had just finished draining the mother when Sam and Dean burst through not allowing them to move to the baby and drain it.

“I-I don’t know dude.” Dean asked peering at the bundle. She was sleeping now, and had a light dusting of brown hair on her head. Her cheeks and nose were tinted pink but was also splotched with her mother’s blood.

“I-Do you think we should just take her to the bunker until we can find her next of kin?” Sam asked Dean, giving a gentle smile at the infant.

“I guess, man.” Dean said scratching the back of his neck.

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You Have Some Explaining To Do

A soulmate fic where you have a counter that tells you when you’ll meet your soulmate, but for some reason your soulmate dies and comes back.

Pairing: Dean x reader

Warnings: Cussing and pervy dudes. Plus this is really sucky and unedited cause I’m lazy

P.S. Send me requests
74 days 04 hours 45 minutes 06 seconds

The counter on your wrist read. You only had a little over two months until you would meet the one person who was meant for you. Your Soulmate.

As the days ticked by you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen when you finally met him. Would he even like you? You were meant for eachother so he had to like you, right?

You pushed these thoughts out of your head as you got ready for work. During the day you worked at a fancy restaurant and at night you pulled the late shift at the local bar.

“About time Y/N. I’m ready to get outta here,” your coworker mumbled while pushing past you. Time for another long night.

You were only halfway through you shift and already you were dead on your feet. “Another Jimmy?” you asked one of the regulars. Even though you already knew the answer. As you reached under the counter you heard a clink as your glass counter hit a drink glass.

You pulled your hand up to look at the trinket on your wrist, but you sucked in a breath at what you saw. The seconds weren’t ticking by. Time had literally frozen.

The numbers were stuck at 62 days 4 hours 05 minutes 03 seconds. Your counter had stopped.

You gently tapped it, hoping it would start ticking again, but it didn’t. This could only mean one thing. Your soulmate was dead.

Your hand flew up to cover your mouth as a sob racked your body. You couldn’t believe that the one person you’d waited your whole life to meet was dead. The sound of breaking glass could be heard as you stumbled backwards.

One of your coworkers ran up to you to see what had happened. You knew they were trying to talk to you, but you just couldn’t hear them. The only thing you could hear was your own sobs and the sound of your heartbeat.

A few hours later as you laid in bed and thought about what had happened you couldn’t help but wonder what had happened to your soulmate. A million probabilities ran through your head as tears sprang to your eyes once more.

You couldn’t help but feel that maybe you were overreacting. You’d never even met the guy and you were already bawling like a baby over him.

After some cleansing crying you came to the conclusion that you would have to move on, and hopefully you could.

4 months later and you had totally moved on, not. You’d done nothing but work. Going so far as to take on more shifts. You were doing everything in your power to not think about what had happened, and so far it had worked. Sleeping had become a thing of the past. Mainly because of how much you were working.

“Here ya go ma’am,” you said with a smile. The customer nodded at you in thanks before going back to her drink. You continued refilling drinks while occasionally glancing at your wrist. Your counter was covered by your long sleeve which was a good thing. It helped keep your mind off it.

As usual there was always creepy guys who hung out at the bar. This just so happened to be the day that they decided to screw with you. “Here ya go boys, enjoy your drinks,” you stated before starting to walk away.

Suddenly you were pulled back into one of the guys laps. You glared up at him while trying to stand up, but he wouldn’t let you. “I would enjoy it more if you stayed here.” This dude was obviously drunk.

“No thanks dude. Not interested,” you gave him a sickly sweet smile before trying to stand up again, and once again you were held in place. “You don’t get to say no,” the guy practically growled as he tightened his hold on you.

Enough was enough. Your palm flew straight up into the guy’s nose. “Shit!” he shouted while letting go of you. You stumbled out of his hold as he held his bleeding nose.

Crap. You’d gotten blood on your hand. You made your way to the sink in the back before pulling your sleeves up and washing your hands. As you were drying them you glanced down at your counter. The towel fell out of your hands when you saw it.

00days 03 hours 15 minutes 17 seconds

Not only had your counter started working again, but now the time had changed as well. How was this possible? People don’t just come back to life.

Your breathing accelerated as you walked back out into the bar. The creepy men were still sitting in the corner. Once they saw you, the one that you had given a bloody nose shouted, “You’re gonna regret that bitch!”

Over the course of the next 2 and a half hours they sat there glaring and drinking. You tried your best to ignore them and continued on with your job, and even though you managed to ignore them you couldn’t ignore the fact that you were supposed to meet your soulmate in just under an hour.

The creepy men left about 15 minutes before your shift ended and you sighed in relief. As you clocked out you saw that your counter said you only had 8 minutes left. You were practically shaking with anxiety. What if he was a murderer?!

You pushed your thoughts aside as you grabbed your coat and purse. As you left the bar and made your way towards your apartment you got distracted by the seconds ticking away on your counter.

Suddenly you were pulled into the side alley by the bar and thrown against a wall. “What the h-” you started to say but were cut off by a slap to the face. “Fucking bitch. I told you you’d regret being a prude,” the perv from the bar said. You rolled your eyes before quickly bringing your knee up into the guy’s balls. He grunted before bending over.

You then grabbed his face and brought it down to meet your knee. More blood started leaking from his nose as he fell to the ground, holding his balls. His two friends grabbed you and slammed you into the wall once more. You fought to escape their hold, but let’s face it, this fight wasn’t fair.

All of a sudden the two men were pulled off you and sent flying. You looked up to see the two men who had pulled the others off you. In just a few short seconds they had the two creeps on the ground.

Both of them turned to look at you. As they stared you slowly stood up. “Hey. Are you okay?” the taller one asked while the shorter one stared at you.

You chuckled before answering, “Ya. I’m good.” The tall one, who for some reason reminded you of a moose, kept questioning you while the one with green eyes kept staring.

“Okay dude. Do you have a problem or something?” you finally asked. He seemed to snap out of whatever thoughts he was having.

To your surprise he marched up to you and grabbed your wrist. The sandy haired man pulled your arm up and looked at your counter. With everything that had happened you had completely forgotten about meeting your soulmate.

He glanced up to your face before looking back at the tall man and giving him a nod. You suddenly realized that it was him. This man standing in front of you was your soulmate.

“You have some explaining to do,” you mumbled as you stared up at him.

"Lullaby" One Shot

Author: coltsandquills

Original Imagine Link:  : Imagine TFW finding out that the sleeping pills you take every night don’t stop the nightmares; they just keep you from screaming.

Warnings: insomnia, nightmares

Word Count: 2,349


It had been a few weeks since you had begun your stay at the bunker. The three of them could have cast you out from the start — they had already fulfilled their role as heroes, saved you from a gruesome end; it seemed selfish to ask anything more of them. Still, that didn’t stop the brothers from opening up their home to you. At first, you figured they only saw you as another piece to the puzzle, a victim to keep safe, just in case you could prove useful in the investigation into the world’s latest imminent destruction. But as time passed, something changed. Whether it was the fact that Sam had a cup of coffee waiting for you every morning, or how Dean sometimes roughly mussed your hair in passing, or the way Castiel would make those terribly awkward but sweet attempts at conversation on your quieter days, you felt less and less like an intruder, and more like one of the team.

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Little Omega {Alpha!Castiel x Omega!Reader}

Summary: Just… just smut. Alpha/Omega smut. That’s really all my Castiel fics ever turn into 

Pairing: Castiel x reader

Warnings: Smut (duh)

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You Big Baby

Author: afreckledangel

Original Imagine Link: Imagine you and Sam taking care of a very sick, very grumpy Dean Winchester and deciding to cuddle with him at night because you don’t care if you get sick too.

Word Count: 1,868

Warnings: Mentions of puking


You and Sam had begun noticing the symptoms of a cold in Dean the night before. He kept sniffling and, without drawing too much attention, blowing his nose. Every now and then he would sneeze, pointedly not looking at you or his brother when you exchanged glances. It was barely nine when Dean stood and announced he was going to bed.

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