writing a spn fanfic

Growing Love - Part 1: Sparks (TEASER)


It will hit a dash near you at 10pm danish time aks 4pm EST. If you want a tag - series tags are still open and you can add yourself here: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1jegQM-W8aYjJ7uKZVJsTd1lnTRSgM4q-x3zTL0ZsIWQ/edit?usp=sharing 

Till then - here is a teaser!

“Sebastian left me,” she spoke, looking into the bowl of soup in her hands. “He…” Her words stopped, and Jensen instantly jumped to conclusions.

“Did he hurt you?” Jensen questioned as his eyes began wandering, checking every piece of uncovered skin he could find for bruises.

“No!” Y/N insisted, and her eyes found Jensen’s. He drew a sigh of relief. He knew her, and he knew she was telling the truth, the look in her eyes told him as much. Her next words didn’t make him wanna wring Sebastian’s neck any less though.

“I’m pregnant, Jay. I was so happy, but he… He said he wasn’t ready, and he left me. I don’t know what to do.”  Her voice were breaking along with Jensen’s heart. She started shaking and crying again, and Jensen instantly wrapped his arms around her, rocking her and soothing her until her sobs subsided.

“What am I going to do, Jensen? I can’t do this on my own. I don’t have anyone, but…” Tears streamed down her face as she spoke, and Jensen’s heart broke for her. He had always hated seeing her cry. Luckily it didn’t happen that often. She was a strong woman. A woman that always saw the best in everything and everyone. That was why when she was hurting like this, it tore him to pieces.

“You’re not alone. You got me,” Jensen insisted. “I am not telling you what to do. The decision is yours, but no matter what you decide, Y/N/N, you got a home here with me.

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Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean finally tells the Reader how he really feels about her.

Word Count: 1,533

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

Author’s Note: Hey guys! This is my entry for my beautiful Ree’s challenge: @neversatisfiedgirl‘s “Ree’s Rocky Horror Challenge”. My song was “"Once in a While”. I hope you guys like this. Feedback is greatly appreciated!!!

Dean watched you from a distance, his apple green eyes following you around the bar. He watched as you moved from the counter, back to your booth, and then back again after finishing your glass of beer. You hated calling people over.

The fight you both had was brutal, leaving you in a crying mess and running out the door before he could get another word out. He hadn’t meant to hurt you. He thought he was doing right by you. Every moment you spent with him was precious time. Those sons of bitches out there knew that you and Dean were together, therefore making you an easy target. He didn’t want that for you. He didn’t want you to be in danger anymore.

So he had started up the argument, saying that you were dead weight and he couldn’t have you messing things up, now more than ever with Lucifer out of the Cage. It broke his heart when he saw the tears well up in your eyes. Your relationship was already strained and his words only deepened the cut, breaking your already shattering heart. You had tried to be there for him and his brother, but you saw the crack. You saw the moment things started to be different.

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Sweet Child O’ Mine

Your name: submit What is this?

“Hey look what I found!” Sam said walking into the bunker library with a small box in hand. Dean looked up from his laptop and raised an eyebrow. “What is that?” He asked.

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Fire Is A Fickle Thing

Characters - Dean X Reader

Summary - A small fuck up on a cold winter night leaves plenty of room to fix the mistake

Word Count - 3252 (It was supposed to be a drabble. Consider this a full bouquet of whoopsie daisies!)

Warnings - Swearing, smut, unprotected sex (remember, irl, no glove, no love), I think that’s it

A/N - Again, you have @sis-tafics to thank/blame for this one. A simple conversation lead to smut (that never happens!) and that lead to this. Jill, it came out slightly different than our conversation. Hope it still fits what you were looking for :)  This is only my second fic I’ve posted, so again, helpful (and kind!) feedback is not only welcomed, it’s needed. Oh and this was unbetaed since I finished it really fucking late (early?).

Tags -   @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @salvachester @mrswhozeewhatsis @littlegreenplasticsoldier @sleep-silent-angel @awhiskeywithawinchester @writingbeautifulmen @the-mrs-deanwinchester @oriona75 @manawhaat @mamapeterson @rizlow1 @kayteonline @katnharper @but-deans-back-tho @spnjensenlove02 @aprofoundbondwithdean @impalalalalardis-1067 @whispersandwhiskerburn @misswhizzy @winchesterenthusiast @winchestersinthedrift @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @saenalife @nichelle-my-belle @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @kittenofdoomage @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala @spnfanficpond     If you want to be added to or removed from the tags, PLEASE LET ME KNOW

You fling the front door open, cold wind blowing snow in behind you and Dean before he turns and pushes it closed against the freezing night. You’re teeth are chattering as your rub your hands up and down your arms, stomping your feet, trying to get your body to warm back up.

“Well, that was a fucking waste of time.” Dean bitches as he starts pulling off his snow packed boots.

You unwind your scarf from your neck and throw it at him, “Ya think? Jesus, Winchester, next time do some damn research!” Dean just tosses your scarf back at you with a roll of his eyes and tugs his cap off his head, his messy hair making your cold fingers itch to run through it.

He had found where your suspect was hiding out, so you had gone to do some surveillance. But he had failed to check the weather forecast and while you were out, a storm had rolled in, bringing snow with it, making you have to bail on your mission. By the time Dean had managed to navigate the slick roads back to the gravel one leading to the cabin, the road was covered with enough snow that he wasn’t going to risk getting Baby stuck. Thankfully, you had at least thought to grab your cold weather gear, and Dean was damn lucky you were a generous enough girlfriend to bring his too. The walk back to the cabin wasn’t really all that long but the snow was heavy and wet, making it difficult to trudge through. And the wind was fucking cold.

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Dean’s probably drunk the first time they kiss.

Not incapacitated, fall-down, drown-your-sorrows drunk, but enough to feel the hot burn of whiskey in the back of his throat as he corners Cas in the motel bathroom. Cas is unhurt, of course, juiced up and ready to go, but there are blood stains on the lapels of his trenchcoat as Dean reaches forward, twists his fingers in the stiff fabric, pulls Cas close.

He closes his eyes and feels his breath come fast; faster. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but, then again, it was always supposed to be like this. Cas’s mouth is warm and wet and open against his own, the permanence of his stubble rasping against Dean’s chin. He feels Cas’s hands, warm and wide and strong as they come and rest: one on the small of his back, one against the back of his neck.

Dean forgets to breathe; he inhales and pulls in petrichor, ozone, and it burns into his tastebuds, the taste of Cas Cas Cas, and there’s no coming back from here.

Close Every Door, part four

Characters – Dean x Reader, Sam, Cas, Crowley

Summary – TFW tries to find answers after the reader is kidnapped; what they uncover will surprise them.

Word Count – 4,350

Warnings – Angst, Kidnapping, Torture (sometimes graphic)

A/N – This is the fourth part to the story – only one part to go! I hope you enjoy it!  As always, feedback is appreciated and encouraged! Please let me know what you thought!

Catch Up: Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Originally posted by hidden-in-a-dreams-gifs

Your name: submit What is this?

“Did you find her?” Dean asked breathlessly. 

Crowley nodded.  “She’s there.”

Dean looked nervous and flashed a glance at his brother before turning back to Crowley.  “How…how is she?”

“It’s bad.” Crowley answered shortly.  “We have to hurry.”


“What do you mean, it’s bad?” Dean demanded.

Crowley glanced at him, irritated.  “I mean, it’s bad!” he snapped.  “She’s being tortured!  Do you want a blow by blow?”

Dean’s face turned red, and his brother jumped up to get between the two men.  “Ok, let’s just calm down for a second!  It’s not going to do us any good to fight right now!  We need to focus on Y/N!”

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Strictly Professional (Part 1)

Summary: You’ve been Misha’s publicist and personal assistant for the past two years, and despite being in love with him, you have a strictly professional relationship with him. At least that’s what you tell yourself. (again, I’m the worst at summaries sry bout it)

Pairing: Misha x Publicist/PA!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k 

Warnings: language, kissing, maybe slight angst? ish? and a cliffhanger bc im the worst 0:-)


Originally posted by timetraveldean

“Have you seen Misha?!” you demanded, out of breath from running around the entire damn hotel trying to find the one man you were responsible for.

The convention volunteer put her hands up in defense, the look on her face seeming to say ‘I have no idea, please don’t hurt me’.

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It’s A Meta Crisis!

Anon: Hi first off I love your writing so much! I was wondering if you could do supernatural story were the reader is obsessed with the show but one day she wakes up in the bunker and she finds out she’s Sam and Dean’s sister but starts to freak out and her ‘brothers’ thinks she may be sick or tries to calm her down. Sorry if that’s confusing <3

Nonnie, I need to apologize for taking so long to get this out, but I hope this was worth the wait. Like always, please message/leave something in my inbox with comments, questions, criticism, if you want to be tagged, etc. Enjoy everyone!

Summary: You are a Sister!Winchester writer and you wake up inside the Bunker one day.

Warnings: None (yes, I know the gif is a typewriter, but it’s hard to find good gifs!)

Tags: @the-third-winchester-warrior @winchesters-favorite-girl @jensen-jarpad @daughters-and-winsisters @lil-sister-winchester

Originally posted by mr-nikolo

“Aaaand, you’re done.” You say the final words of your newly written story aloud as you type them. You wrap your blanket bundle around you a little tighter and click the post button. “All right. You’re up for the whole world to see.” You sigh in relief, happier than ever to get this story out. School is about to start up, something you’re not looking forward to in any way, shape, or form.

You close your laptop slowly. You wish the magic of the holiday break didn’t have to end. The sleeping in, the bliss of not knowing what to do for a whole day, not being sure whether it was Monday or Friday. It was heaven.

You look at the clock. 11:08. Well, if you are going to get any sort of sleep for the early day tomorrow, now was as good a time as any to count sheep. You turn off your light and flop down on your bed. You don’t bother to change clothes or take off your shoes for that matter; you’d be wearing the same outfit to school the next day anyways, so why bother?

You turn your head to look around the sights of your room. A Supernatural poster from season 8 hangs on the far wall. Nearby that, you can see the different ‘hunting’ accessories you had collected over the years, scattered all around your bedroom. Some came from bygone Halloweens, others as holiday and birthday gifts. The old pocketknife with the Men of Letters symbol you carved into the handle, the iron sculpture you pilfered from a garage sale, your stashes of salt and homemade goofer dust, and the leather bag that you used for a hex bag in cosplay. A stack of plaid and flannel shirts sits piled under the poster. You’re particularly proud of the angel blade you had ‘forged’ from moldable plastic beads.

You smile, dreaming about your made up life of being the Winchester’s sister. It’s easier to gain story inspiration through dreaming fanfiction. Oh, the hunts, the magic, the creatures, the excitement, the strong sense of family. Every little aspect about it. Just, Sam, Dean, and you. Against the whole world…

Even before you wake up, you can sense something’s wrong. It’s cold. Colder than your room. You feel around for your blanket to pull up to your face. You freeze.

They’re not yours.

Your eyes open immediately. You sit up cautiously. Did I just get kidnapped? you wonder silently. A dark ceiling and plain walls meet your tired eyes that clearly do not belong to you.

You’re not in your bedroom anymore.

The walls are windowless, an odd bookshelf in the corner. Your eyes scan along the book titles: Mythology and Lore, The Official Book of Exorcisms, Shapeshifters vs. Skinwalkers Vol. 1. The entirety of the bookcase was covered with more scrolls and books like these.

“Okay…little creepy…” You glance around the room, suddenly feeling a sense of either paranoia or excitement. You’re not sure yet. The floor is made not of your soft brown-beige carpet, but a hard floor instead. The most off-putting thing is the smell; it’s a mix of air freshener and dust. Overall, pretty musty. Definitely not the smell of the scented candle at home.

Sounds are pretty much nonexistent. There was always some noise in your home. A passing car on the outside street, siblings arguing in the kitchen over who’s turn it was to use the toaster for Pop-Tarts, or the neighbor’s cat yowling in terror after being chased up a tree by a bullying squirrel.

You peer over the edge of a plain bed. There’s a large wooden chest with leather straps on it. Sort of a trunk really. You’ve never seen this before, but it’s familiar. You abruptly realize you have seen it before.

In your head.

Pieces of everything about this room fly together. The books on the shelf. The floor. The lack of windows and noise. The smell. Waking up in a different bed. Everything is how you’ve imagined it in your stories. You’ve pictured this room in your mind a thousand times, creating different story upon story in this setting.

This is the room you created for the sister of Sam and Dean Winchester.

“That’s not possible…” Only one way for you to be sure. You rub your hands on the top of this mysterious box. If every other detail is right, then this would prove what was going on. Your eyes look down apprehensively, suddenly feeling a series of grooves on the lid of the trunk. You gasp aloud, trying everything to keep from screaming. A six-pointed star is burned into the top of the chest. A Star of Aquarius, better known to you as the symbol for the Men of Letters.

“Just like I wrote.” Your whole body is trembling. Jury’s still out on whether your shaking is from panic or happiness. You look down at yourself. You’re still in the same outfit you fell asleep in: black and white plaid shirt over a black tank top and ripped blue jeans. Your feet are still in the brown faux leather boots from Shopko. You’d tastefully nicknamed them your ‘Winchester Boots’. Little did you know that you’d actually be wearing them in the freaking Bunker.

You slap yourself. Ow. “Okay. Real. Not dreaming. I’m…in…the Bunker.” You turn around in place in a daze. A frightened happy smile stretches across your face. “I’m in the Bunker. The Bunker.”

You take a look at a wooden nightstand. You pull open the drawer cautiously, fearing what might be inside. Inside sits a knife, exactly like your knife in your bedroom. Your other bedroom The not Supernatural one. All the way down to the Men of Letters symbol carved inside. Which makes sense; you’ve based so much of your stories on yourself. Under that sits a small framed but faded photo. You immediately know who it should be, but your curiosity gets the better of you. You gently pick it up.

It’s happy photo of the little baby you sitting on your Dad’s shoulders. Not John Winchester’s shoulders. Your father. Riiight. The sister I created was adopted, not a Winchester by blood, you remind yourself. You stare intently at the picture, recalling the backstory you’d given your Win!sister.

A father turned into an encantado and the mom was a good friend of John Winchester so she teamed up with him in the hunting life. Y/N, became real close to Sam and Dean, helping out with research in her early years and later learning the trade. Teaming up wasn’t a constant thing, but enough to where the boys considered her their sister. John ended up killing Y/N’s dad when he showed up years later. Sam and Dean meeting up became less and less until it stopped completely when Y/N helped Sam get to Stanford. Contact resumed at Roadhouse with Ellen. Her mom died when the Gates of Hell were opened while Y/N was young. She’s been in Sam and Dean’s care since-

You’re cut off by a sudden, yet soft, knocking on the door. “Hey, Y/N.”

You know that mellow voice all too well. You gasp loudly and just barely manage to hold on the to the picture before it can shatter. Standing in front of the door is the freaking giant of a man Sam Winchester.

Originally posted by brothersinsync

He looks at you with mild concern. “You okay? Didn’t mean to scare you.” He finishes with a natural smile. “You didn’t answer your phone. Dean and I just finished one weird case. You’re gonna laugh your head off at this one.”

You back up into the side of bed, still not sure whether to be terrified or bouncing off the walls. You can barely hold onto your voice.



Your eyebrows shoot like rockets towards the ceiling. “Sam??”

“Yeah…that’s me.”

“Sam Winchester??”

Sam steps towards you. “Y/N, is something going on?”

“Sam freaking Winchester. In front of me.” You run your twitchy hands through your hair. “Oh gosh, this is happening. This is real. This-this-i-i-it’s. Holy mother flippin’ Metatron. You’re Sam Winchester.”

Sam smiles unsure with a little laugh in his throat. “Y/N, you’re acting like you’ve never seen me before.”

You start gesturing frantically, as you usually did when you fangirled. “Yes yes yes yes, I know I know I know! This i-i-i-is. This is unbelievable. I mean, you’re right there and I’m right here in this room and-” You abruptly stop and take a look at Sam, who is slowly backing towards the exit. “I’ve gone meta, haven’t I?”

“Uh…Dean!” Sam shouts over his massive shoulder.


The distant reply of another voice you know hits your ears and a dorky grin stretches across your face. “Oh man, Dean’s here too. Oh boy. Oooookay…”

“C’mere for a sec!” Sam gives you a funny look. “Just…stay right here for a minute.”

You sit down on the bed, beyond happy to comply. “Okay!” Your energy level is off the charts.

Sam walks out of the room with a slightly faster pace than you expect. You hear his footsteps recede to where they’re undetectable. You get up off the bed, a whole new strength coursing through you; in your sudden excitement to see the Winchesters, you ignored the fact that not only are you in a different place, but you’re different too. Your body is roughly the same height, maybe a little taller. But you’re extremely fit now. You feel muscles bulging out of your arms, calves, and torso. It’s a whole new thing. You’re still around the same size as you were, but more of a body-builder version rather than a light exerciser.

You run your hands along the slightly bulging muscles in your upper arms. “Cool.” Your eyes sidle to an unopened closet. A new thought hatches in your mind. “I wonder…” You walk over and open the door, adrenaline and adventure filling your energetic body. You smile. Inside, behind the rack of clothing, is the set of weaponry you dreamt of always having. Shotguns and rifles and swords and pistols and ninja stars and salt rounds and-

You lay your eyes on the two weapons you crave the most: the Enochian carved angel blade from your I See Wings series and three sets of throwing knives you imagined: One for demons, one for creatures, one for witches. Each knife set was enchanted with spells you had found in the Bunker, designed with silver or iron or salt.

At least, that’s how you wrote it. You still hope it’s true.

You pry one out from it’s meticulously crafted case. Oh, the glory of holding one of those babies is indescribable. The black leather grip, the smoothness of the knife, the simplistic beauty of the curvature. You never knew how long you waited for this moment. And your new body is just begging you to try the knife out. You curl it back almost daintily, aim and…

Originally posted by twoidjitsinthesalvageyard

Before you can let your blade loose, Dean himself comes striding into your room. He’s on guard instantly when he sees you with the knife. “Woah, Y/N.” He rushes over to your side and grabs your wrist. “If you wanna throw, we’ve got the shooting range, not your room.”

You stare at him in utter shock, that goofy fangirl smile coming back onto your face. “Dean?” you whisper. Your eyes grow wide. “You’re…real…”

Dean knits his eyebrows together. He scoffs and sits you down on the bed by your shoulders. “Course I’m real. Why wouldn’t I be?”

You can see Sam standing in the door, hesitant to come in the room. Your eyes flick rapidly between the two of them. “I’m-I’m really here? This isn’t some sort of…prank or-or joke or…” You look into the Winchester’s eyes, ever growing concern stretching across their faces. “I mean…you’re both real…” you breathe out.

Dean sets your throwing knife on the bed. “Y/N, are you high?” The seriousness in his voice throws you off guard.

“No! No, no, nope!” you yelp. “Definitely not high.” You scan around the room distractedly, trying to ground yourself on something. “Not high…definitely…not…”

“Uh-huh…” Dean clearly doesn’t believe you. He turns to Sam. “And you just found her like this?”

“Yeah. I don’t know what’s going on-”

“What was the last thing that happened to you?” you interrupt. If you can figure out what just happened to the boys, then maybe you can figure out how you got here.

Dean takes a breath. “Well, you wanted to stay and get some research done. We just got back from some weird ass musical about our lives.”

Season 10 episode 5, you immediately think. “So, you’re not a demon anymore and,” you point to Sam, “you just killed Calliope then, right?”

Sam squints at you. “How do you know that?”

“Y/N, what’s going on?” The expression on Dean’s face just melts your poor little fangirl heart. The concern, the honesty. Ugh.

“I…I don’t know. I just woke up here and…” You struggle to find the right words when a lightbulb goes off. You stand up off the bed. “Do you remember when Balthazar zapped you two to an alternate universe?”

Both Sam and Dean groan. “Damn, that was bad,” Dean complains.

“Well, think of this as a reverse one of those.” You grin sheepishly, standing awkwardly in the room as it dawns on the boys. Sam speaks up first.

“You mean…you’re from…”

“Not exactly.” You rub the back of your neck. “My name’s Y/N Y/L/N. I write stories about the show Supernatural. Mostly about if Sam and Dean Winchester had a sister…” you fade out seeing as Dean’s head looks like it’s about to explode.

“Wait, you what??”

“In the show, it’s just…well, you two. But, I began writing my own stories imagining if you two had a sister. And I guess I’m having some kind of meta crisis right now, apparently. I woke up here in the world I created.”

“In the body of our sister.” Dean sounds more hostile towards you than before.

“Not exactly. It’s sort of a reverse Balthazar situation with a bit of Chuck mixed in.”

Sam looks the least freaked out out of everyone in the room. “Okay. So, you wrote about…us and if we had a sister? Why if?”

“In my life or universe or whatever, Y/N Winchester doesn’t exist except in the stories I write.” You take a look at Dean who looks like he could Hulk out on you. You raise your hands defensively. “I based her on me though. So, it’s not like I’m possessing her; I am her. Sort of.”

“Wait, wait, wait. You wrote her so you are her?”

“Pretend you rewrote the Lord of the Rings with you in them. But, you didn’t want to name yourself after you, so you came up with another name. Like…Jim. Then you find yourself in that story you wrote as Jim. But you based Jim off of you so it is you in it’s own way.”

“This is already making my brain sick.” Dean rubs his forehead with the tips of his fingers.

“No, I get it. That makes sense.” You silently thank Sam for saving your bacon.

“The only question is how I got here. I literally went to sleep and woke up here. Nothing different than normal.”

“Okay…if you were writing this, as a story, what would you explain it as?”

You put a hand up to the back of your neck, a habit when you try to concentrate. “Well, if I was writing this, I’d probably be dealing with a spell of some kind, but nothing crazy happened to me last night. So,” you begin to pace, “that leaves me with…oh. Great.” You sigh and purse your lips together.


“Hex bags. I have one in my room.” The Winchesters continue to stare at you. You sigh. “Not a witch, it’s just for cosplay and Halloween. But, I didn’t sweep my room last night. Someone could’ve swapped it out for a real one.”

Dean tips his head up to the ceiling. “I freaking hate witches.”

“Well, it might not be a witch.”

“What do you mean?”

“A witch is only one idea. It might be a tulpa, or a really messed up spirit, or-” You stop, a new idea entering your head. You close your eyes. “Ah, crap.” You raise your hand in a ‘shut-up’ gesture, simply going over to a tv set in the corner of the room and turning it on.

Dean leans forward on the bed. “You gotta kidding me.”

“Perks of writing your own world. You get a pretty good hunch on who did it.” A Casa Erotica scene starts setting up.

Sam points to the screen. “But, he died.”

Originally posted by your-not-invisible-to-me

A very familiar waiter rips off his mustache. “Think again, boys. And girl.” Gabriel pops out through the tv screen landing in front of you and the Winchesters. A weird combination of a smile and an ‘exasperated-parent face’ hits your face. The archangel looks at you. “How do they do it on BBC?” He raises an eyebrow. “Did you miss me?”

Your Love

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Dean thinks about the love he has for the Reader

Word Count: 973

Warnings: Light Smut, Fluff

Author’s Note: Hey my loves! This is my entry for @jpadjackles‘ 1K Celebration. I got the song “Higher and Higher” by Jason Manns. I hope you guys like it!!! I had fun writing it!! Feedback is always welcomed!!

**Special Note** Lyrics are italicized because Dean sings them *winks*

Imagine being in love.

I know, right? It’s a scary feeling. Downright terrifying. Just the thought of it makes goosebumps rise up and down my spine. You see, I never thought myself to be the type that fell in love. The life I led never made room for any of the normal stuff that happened to guys my age. I was twenty five for the love of god. Guys were married at my age already, right?

The point of the matter was that love never crossed my mind. Sex, however, did, and for a moment, I loved the ‘no attachment’ rule. The “wham, bam, thank you ma’am” sort of deal that always ended with the woman pouting before I slammed the door in their faces.

Total dick move, I know, but that was sex. It was never meant to be emotional.

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Lose Myself

Characters – Dean x Reader

Summary – You didn’t mean to snoop through Dean’s things, but you can’t ignore what you found.

Word Count – 1,689

Warnings – None

A/N – Anonymous request: Hey there! I really love your writing -Always is my personal fave- and I was wondering whether I could get a request. Sooo Dean and the reader are bffs since they were very young and in love but too stubborn 2 admit it. One day the reader searches his closet for something and discovers a box full of mementos including photos and her favorite scarf, the one she thought she’d lost the night Dean left to go look for his dad. She conforts him about it and he admits his feelings. What do you think?

Hope you like it, Nonnie!  Thank you so much for the request!  As always feedback is loved and appreciated!  Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future stories.  

Originally posted by soluscheese

Your name: submit What is this?

You’d completely ransacked your closet twice and still couldn’t find your favorite flannel. Disgruntled, you walked back to the laundry room to see if it had inadvertently fallen between or behind the machines.  You’d been missing it for a couple of weeks now and with the temperature beginning to drop outside, you really wanted to wear it.  It used to belong to Dean, but you’d long ago taken it over and refused to give it back. 

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Strictly Professional (Part 2)

Summary: Misha shows up at your door, and the two of you end up spending the night together. Everything seems perfect until you wake up the next morning.

Pairing: Misha x Publicist/PA!Reader

Word Count: a little over 2k

Warnings: smutty smut smut, a touch of 69ing and sprinkle of dirty talk for some pizzazz, an angsty cliffhanger bc I’m an asshole

A/N: this is gonna be the only part that’s 98% porn and 2% plot. but I couldn’t help myself; yall know I gotta include a part that’s just smut hahah.

*Warning: NSFW gifs below the cut!*

Strictly Professional Masterlist



You stood there, mouth agape, totally surprised that Misha was standing at your door instead of out drinking with the guys.

“Misha, what’re you doing here?” you asked.

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Shut up, Winchester!

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Dean being a dick, smut.

Word Count: 1733

A/N: So this…I am not really sure what to say about this lol. I had the urge to write last night, @avasmommy224 sent me a few prompts and this happened! I will bold her prompts just for the fun of it. This was my mind running wild, I don’t even know lol. Either way, hope y’all enjoy! As always, i am a new writer, feedback is welcome!

You and the guys had just returned from a twelve hour drive back to the bunker. It seemed like you would never get back home and therefore, things had gotten a little tense between the three of you; especially you and Dean. You loved the man with everything you had but sometimes he drove you batshit crazy! It was one of those situations where you were so much alike, sometimes it was a bad thing…today was one of those days. He had spent the better half of those twelve driving hours playing the same cassettes over and over, every time you or Sam asked him to play something else his response being, “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole.” Most of the time you loved Dean’s choice in music, AC DC, Bob Seger, Metallica, and Led Zeppelin being some of your favorites, but even your favorites can get old. You slammed the bunker door behind you, Dean and Sam already halfway down the stairs.

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Characters - Dean x Reader

Summary - Torture was a funny thing. It tore away at your sense of self, the very core of you. You held on, though. Held on until you could make your escape.

Word Count - 1,935

Warnings - Language, mention of torture, and canon-typical descriptions of violence.

Pins and needles. All you could feel in your arms were pins and needles. Your arms hung above your head, cold hard metal cuffs digging into your skin. Long ago you gave up trying to wiggle out of them. It was wasted energy, and after not being fed for… Fuck. You lost track of day and night, all illusion of time ripped from you.

The dark room, for lack of a better word, was small and cramped. It was more like a closet, no windows anywhere. The heat inside was stifling, making the smells contained in there even more gut-wrenching. The walls were beige, or rather were beige. Years of neglect and bloodshed turned the walls a different color, nonetheless sickening as the pristine beige at the top. Not that that mattered much anymore.

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Nearly Lost You

Characters – Sam x Reader

Summary – A hot meal after a hunt goes south fast – can Sam act fast enough to save the reader’s life?

Word Count – 3,314

Warnings – Allergies and severe allergic reactions, some angst, and some fluff to make up for the angst.  

A/N – Fluffy Sam request from a sweet Nonnie: “Is it alright if I request a Sam x reader angsty-fluff? Plot being that some how the reader has an allergic reaction (personally I’m allergic to peanuts) to something and Sam freaks out. Then like when Sam has trouble finding the readers epi pen or whatever he confesses his love to her because he’s scared to lose you. But can the reader live please?! Thank you!! Stay awesome darling! Xoxo”

Requests are definitely open, and thank you, Nonnie, for yours!  I hope you enjoy it!  As always, feedback is much appreciated!

Originally posted by hallowedbecastiel

Your name: submit What is this?

You were freezing. You made a note to yourself – no more hunts in north Minnesota in the winter.  Rubbing your arms to attempt to get some heat and feeling back in them, you glanced behind you at the boys.  They made their way over to you with the body of the ghoul you’d just dispatched and threw it into the pit you’d dug.  Lighting it up, the three of you stood there, trying to stay warm by the fire of the burning corpse while trying not to gag on the stench. Finally, it was too much for you.

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Strictly Professional (Part 3)

Summary: Misha’s gone before you wake up, and you begin to doubt everything that happened with you and him the night before. Was it just a misunderstanding, or did everything the night before really not mean anything to him? (FUCK MY SUMMARIES ARE TERRIBLE)

Pairing: Misha x Publicist/PA!Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: angst, language

Strictly Professional Masterlist


Ok. Calm down. Get a grip.

Before you completely jumped to conclusions and assumed the worst (which was something you did way too often), you took a few deep breaths and tried to focus and assess the situation rationally.

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Birthday by the Bottle (Part 3)

Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,496

Warnings: cheating, language, angst as usual lol ;)

A/N: Thank you once again for betaing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid!!! I hope you all enjoy this part! Please let me know what you think!! Are things going to get better or worse?? 

Part 1 Part 2

Originally posted by iwriteaboutdean

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Most Ardently

Anonymous Request: Can you do a Sam x reader where reader is hit by a spell forcing her to talk in Shakespearean language and revealing her feelings for him? 

Pairing: Sam x reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: dean’s a butt, lots of cute silliness :-)

A/N: I added in translations in parentheses where I thought it’d be helpful! enjoy!

Originally posted by gleefinn

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

“Y/N, behind you!” Sam yelled, startling you as you whirled around to face the witch.

She was less than two feet from you, and you took a step forward to stab her in the chest when she surprised you by blowing some sort of dust straight into your face.

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Dean x Reader

Word Count: 862

Warnings: major fluff, then major angst (nothing really that major…just my normal angst ridden shit)

A/N: Well ya see…it started out as fluffy but then bc I’m writing it…it turned angsty really fast…. Shout out to @oriona75 for betaing this for me!!! 

Originally posted by hunterchesters

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All I Want For Christmas

Characters: Reader Collins (Y/N), Jensen Ackles, Marley Collins, Drover Collins, Danneel Ackles, JJ Ackles, Jared Padalecki, Genevieve Padalecki, Tom Padalecki, Shep Padalecki.

Pairing: Misha x reader, Jensen x sister!reader

Warnings: Stress of traveling with kids, traffic, pregnant women jokes (blame Jensen), not much just fluff.     

Wordcount: 2700ish

A/N: This is the fourth one shot for “Kari’s Fluffy Christmas” and it is written for @babypieandwhiskey’s “Cam’s darndest things challenge” - My prompt was  “Stop surfing the coffee table.” and I chose to write for Misha x Reader

Thanks to the sweet, amazing @percywinchester27 for betaing this one for me.


Everything was always last minute in your family. Normally you didn’t mind, but being pregnant everything seemed to bother you more than usual. Usually you didn’t mind being last minute because the kids always had fun, no matter what you were doing or where you were going. Your husband turned everything into an adventure. He always had and that was one of the reasons you had fallen in love with him in the first place.

Right now, it was that particular adventurous and always easy to distract side that were driving you crazy. You had told him to get the kids and help them pack two hours ago and he had. He had just not really done it the way you had envisioned it happening.  

Rather than packing in their room, Misha had dragged half the room into the living room along with the bags. He and the boys were currently playing a game of jump on the couch and into the bag and onto daddy, while he was packing. It did look fun and the boys were laughing and using a lot of energy which would pay off for the plane ride later. Still it was making packing slow and you had already overslept this morning… or well not overslept but you hadn’t exactly gotten out of bed by the hour you had planned. Thanks to your pregnancy, your husband’s hands tended to wander even more than usual and also thanks to said pregnancy you had absolutely no willpower to stop him. Frankly, you seemed to have three moods these days, hungry, grumpy or horny. Right now it as you were chewing at holiday themed crackers and staring at your husband, your 4 year old and 2 year old’s shenanigans, grumpy was winning.

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