#SPN BINGO Masterlists

[zepskies]

NAVIGATION

Welcome to my little corner of the world!

About Me: Alex (she/her | 28) || Hopeless romantic, Dean Girl - EST 2014, Latina POC 🇨🇺🇵🇷🇩🇴☕️

Fandoms I currently write for: - Supernatural - The Boys - Big Sky - Tracker - Dark Angel - Smallville - 10 Inch Hero - Dawson’s Creek

Main Masterlist 📖

Writer's Room ✍🏽

My tag lists are closed, but you can follow my fic library blog - @zepskieswrites - with notifications on so you never miss a new story.

Ask Me Stuff 💌

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED. I will only be accepting requests on Patreon. But please feel free to hit me up in my inbox with questions or comments about my work, about fandom and characters, creative writing, or even just life in general! 💜

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(Bingo masterlists, podfics, podcast interviews, writing questions answered, fic rec lists, what I do not write, and even more stuff below the cut):

Bingos

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024 Masterlist

Podfics

Stories that have been narrated in podcast form by Sandra, one of the lovely hosts of the Idling in the Impala podcast. Go here to check out the full YouTube playlist of podfics.

Podcast Interviews

September 24, 2024: Sandra and Kasey, the lovely hosts of @idlingintheimpalapodcast — the podcast for all things SPN and fanfiction — invited me on the pod for an interview…

We chatted about Dean Winchester and Jensen Ackles’ early roles, the best and worst seasons of SPN, the joys and pains of writing Soldier Boy, and much, much more.

For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

About Writing

My thoughts on creative writing and fanfiction, the writing process, tips I've learned or been given, and questions people ask me.

Ways to Say I Love You

There Are Two Kinds of Writers: Architects & Adventurers

10 Top Favorite Romantic Comedy Movies

5 Tips to Stay Motivated to Write

5 Tips for Beating Writer's Block

Writing a Good Kiss/Romantic Scene

Where Do I Get My Writing Ideas?

Asking the "What If" Question & Developing Plot Ideas

How to Build a Tumblr Following (In My Experience) - 3 Tips

6 (More) Tips for Building a Tumblr Following (In My Experience)

What Does "Supporting Writers" Mean?

PSA on Tumblr Tags: Tag Lists & # Tags

Characters, Fandom & Fic Rec Lists

Why We Love The Boys: A Review of Supes Ain't Always Heroes

Tips on Writing Dean Winchester

3 Tips for Writing Soldier Boy (Ben)

Writing Angst with Soldier Boy (Ben)

Supernatural Fic Rec List

Dean Winchester AU Fic Rec List

Beau Arlen Fic Rec List

Soldier Boy Fic Rec List

August 2024 Fic Recs

**Author's Note

All 18+ content is labelled across my stories, as well as any dark themes or trigger warnings. So minors, please don't interact with those posts. Also, I do not read or write:

RPF (real person fiction)

Wincest

Non-con

[samisadeangirl]

SPN Kink Bingo Jan-Feb 2023 Masterlist

All of my fills came from chapters in the story I'm currently posting on AO3, Hurts So Good (Dom Sam/sub Dean, explicit). Additional kinks that show up are listed in parentheses:

Chapter 1: Put Away Those Young Boy Ways - Free Space (fetish club, nipple clamps, St. Andrew's cross, paddling, safeword use)

Chapter 4: With a Boy Like You - Kink Negotiation

Chapter 5: There Are Things We Can Do, Baby - Collars

Chapter 6: Just Me and You - Aftercare (safeword use, orgasm control, anal fingering, anal sex, bathtub sex)

Chapter 7: Don't Have to Be So Exciting - Vibrators (orgasm denial, cock ring, anal sex, butt plugs, marathon sex)

Chapter 8: Just Trying to Give Myself a Little Bit of Fun - M/M (oral sex, panty kink, rimming, tied to the bed, anal sex)

written for @spnkinkevents

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

SPN Kink Event - Masterlist

New bingo for the SPN kink event!! Hope I’ll be able to write as many as possible!!

I take ideas and requests for this bingo, as I don’t have many! You can send an ask with the square and your idea for it! The ones in bold are actually already being written!

Squares under the cut!

Oviposition

Saxx

Public sex

Collars

Free Space

Master/Slave

Total Power Exchange

Grinding : Naive (Jensen x F!Reader)

Knife Play

[holylulusworld]

Any fandom fluff bingo masterlist

Preview for the upcoming fics to fill the squares.

Square 1: ??? (Dean Winchester? x fem!Reader): Dislocated joint

Square 2: How deep is your love? (Dean Winchester x Reader): First date

Square 3: ??? (Bucky Barnes x Physiotherapist!Reader): Chronic pain

Square 4: ??? (Mafia!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Mafia!Bucky Barnes): "We have chickens."

Square 5: Cookies (Dean Winchester x fem!Reader): Free space

Square 6: ??? (??? x fem!Reader): Playground

Square 7: ??? (Alpha??? x Omega(fem)!Reader): Claiming marks

Square 8: ??? (??? x fem!Reader): The Olive Theory

Square 9: Dishonored (Prince!Steven Grant Rogers x Princess!Reader; Lord Barnes x Princess!Reader): "I never loved you."

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events  

[cleighwrites]

SPN Kink Bingo - Jan/Feb 2023

Worth the Risk - Against the Wall - J2, semi-public sex

Bubba Kisses - Choking - Sam x Dean, major age gap, extreme underage

The Boy - Part 1 - Cock Warming - J2, semi-public sex

The Boy - Part 2 - Coming Untouched - J2, anal plug

The Boy - Part 3 - Desperation - Jared x multiple people, gangbang 

The Boy - Part 4 - Somnophilia - J2, dub-con?

The Boy - Part 5 - Orgasm Denial - J2, remote vibrator play

The Boy - Part 6 - Top Drop - J2, hurt/comfort

Rope Bunny - Rope Bunny - Dean aesthetic, shibari

[winchester-girl67]

SPN AU Bingo 2023

A/N: This will be my @spnaubingo masterlist <;3

Love at first smell: Cravings (Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x Pregnant!reader) The reader gets some intense pregnancy cravings when she smells the alpha next door cooking. She grabs a plate and knocks on his front door.

True mates: Cravings (Part 2) - (Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x Pregnant!reader) Post-claim, Dean and the reader enjoy a lazy day at her place when she tells him that she wants to bite him back. 

Wild Hearts Masterlist (AU!Dean x reader) Coming of age is hard enough without meeting the right guy at the wrong time. Yet, that’s exactly what happens for the reader when she finally starts to settle into her new town. Then she meets a party crasher at a bonfire with a few more scars than her own emotional ones. 

Meet cute: Wild Hearts (Part 1) Y/N tags along to a bonfire on the beach with her brother and his friends. She tries to fit in with them, but winds up finding more of a connection to the guy crashing the party.

[holyfreaks]

@spnrareships

series on ao3

dean/claire

[somethingblu3]

Jacklesverse Bingo - Master List

Here's my card for @jacklesversebingo! here's hoping I can get at least halfway I know so far at least one prompt is going to be a series.

*tbu.

[spnfanficpond]

SPN Reader Insert FanFic Writing Challenge: Gender Studies

In our Discord server today, we had a great talk about Reader Insert fics and what tips and tricks we use to entertain our audience without alienating them. At the end of the chat, the subject of Gender Neutral Reader Inserts came up. The main point we all agreed on was that we need to strip away gender stereotypes and just write a basic person in order for a GNRIC (Gender Neutral Reader Insert Character) to work. We tried listing some of those gender stereotypes and did not come up with many besides women being more emotional and men being less likely to discuss feelings. That discussion brought us to this challenge.

Because we want as many writers as possible to join us for this, all participants will be entered into a drawing to win prizes from the Prize List!

What (earns you one entry into the drawing) - Write a one-shot two ways: once with a Female Reader Insert Character (FRIC) and then write the same story with a Male Reader Insert Character (MRIC). Pick a trope and a genre (use your favorites or you can use our SPN Prompt Generator for ideas), figure out a scenario, and then write the same basic story for each gender.

Bonus (earns you an additional entry into the drawing) - Write a third fic but with a GNRIC.

Additional Bonus (earns you an additional entry into the drawing) - Once you've written both, tell us how writing each one made you feel. What basic differences did you keep in mind as you were writing? What problems did you expect to run into, were those the same problems you actually had while writing, and what unexpected problems did you encounter?

Fic parameters -

At least 1000 words.

The pairing does not need to be romantic, but you will earn an extra entry into the drawing if the pairing is romantic.

The fic does not need to have smut, but you will earn an additional entry into the drawing if there is any level of smut. (Kissing and some fondling or something like phone sex is the minimum to earn the extra entry.)

How to join - Send an ASK to the Pond blog here on Tumblr, DM @mrswhozeewhatsis here on Tumblr, or DM Admin Michelle on Discord!

Deadlines - No deadline to join. The deadline for posting is Monday, September 2, 2024, at midnight EDT. The drawing will happen on Tuesday, September 3rd, so there will be no extensions. All fics submitted will be added to a masterlist. Fics submitted after the drawing will still be added to the masterlist, but will not be eligible for prizes.

Other nitty gritty - This can be combined with other challenges and bangs or bingos. Must be SPN/The Winchesters. Can be a Pairing x Reader Insert, but it must be a Reader Insert. To submit your work, DM Admin Michelle. You can write multiple sets of fics to earn more entries into the drawing. If you have any questions, contact @mrswhozeewhatsis!!

We can't wait to see what you all create!!

(Divider by @glygriffe)

Admins

Michelle - @mrswhozeewhatsis

Marie - @mariekoukie6661

MJ - @thoughtslikeaminefield

Mana - @manawhaat (Founder and Admin Emeritus)

[spnexploration]

Escort

Synopsis: Dean needs an escort to help him with his cover on a case (more of a case fic with flirting, no smut)

Pairing: I see it as Dean Winchester x reader but could be read as Dean Winchester x OC (no physical descriptions are given and she goes by what is clearly a fake name the whole time)

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Words: 3k

This fulfils the Escort square of my 2023 SPN AU Bingo @spnaubingo

A/N: It's nice to write a really competent, confident female character!

Supernatural writing masterlist

“Dean,” Sam implored, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Sammy, I swear to God, you keep whining about the plans and I’m gonna stop telling you the plans.”

“She’s a distraction at best, and a liability at worst!”

Dean rounded on him, “Is your complaint because she sells her services?”

“What? No.”

“Really? Because you’ve sure made a lot of jokes over the years about women in her line of business.”

“Dean, stop it. I’m worried about her getting hurt, or getting you hurt.”

“It will be fine. For all she knows, I just needed a girl to make me look good to the other suits. She won’t even know I’m casing the joint while we mingle. Nothing will happen, you and I will go back later without the girl. Girl will just earn some easy cash looking pretty.”

Sam sighed. Dean took that as a win. He gave his brother one last look before grabbing his keys off the motel room table. “I’ll go find a girl.”

---

Dean rolled down the window as he pulled up to a girl standing on the street corner. He was already in a tux. “Hey sweetheart,” he said as he rolled down the window. “You wanna have a Pretty Woman moment tonight?”

She looked like she was struggling to control the urge to roll her eyes. He liked her already.

“Hey handsome,” she said, leaning through the open car window. “What did you have in mind?”

“I need an escort for a big fancy party my work is throwing.”

“And you didn’t want to call a real escort service?”

“The others probably know all of them.” She laughed. “So I thought I’d branch out.” In reality, he didn’t want the arrangement written down anywhere.

“And let me guess, you want some services that aren’t available on their menu, too?”

“Nah, strictly escort tonight. Possibly the easiest money you’ll make, except for the need to smile your way through painful small talk about the best way to fold napkins.”

“And what would you have me wear?” she asked in a sultry voice.

“I got ya a dress. It’s in the back, we’ll go to the service station and you can get changed in the bathroom.”

“How long’s the party?”

“Few hours.”

“I charge $120/hr.”

“Fine.”

She opened the car door and slid inside. “Nice car,” she remarked as she ran her hands over the seat.

“My Baby’s the best,” Dean replied with a smirk, before speeding off.

---

Dean pulled up to the line of cars waiting to go into the party. He turned to the woman beside him, now resplendent in a beautiful dress he’d gotten at the op shop earlier that afternoon.

“Uh, I uh, I forgot to ask. What should I call you?” he said, suddenly awkward.

She laughed. “You can call me… Hazel.”

“Alright, Hazel it is. Where’d we meet?”

“The street corner.” He raised an eyebrow at her. “I had a flat and you helped me with it.”

“Ok. Recently?” He enjoyed letting her lead.

“Just the other day.”

“Sounds good.”

“So, what do I call you, handsome?”

“Drake,” Dean said, his hand on the car door handle as a valet came up to greet them. He headed around the car and opened her door, holding his hand out to help her out. He reached his arm around her waist and held her to him. “I’m new at the company,” he whispered, “So not many people know me.”

She shot him a quick, concerned glance before schooling her features back into a smile. Dean led her up the steps and into the party, flashing two tickets on his way past.

---

The party was going well. No one seemed to mind that they’d never seen him before in their lives, and Hazel fit in better than he could have imagined. He hadn’t expected that the girl he’d gotten off a street corner would be able to pull off the escort idea, but he’d been hoping she would take the attention away from him. That wasn’t happening now that she was actually good at it, but instead they seemed to be blending in. He’d take it.

He put his hand on the small of her back and leaned down to her ear, “I gotta go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.” She smiled at him and he walked off. He glanced around the room, but he couldn’t see the artefact he was looking for.

He headed into another room, still surreptitiously checking out the walls and display cases. He headed for an empty corridor and pulled his phone out, quickly dialling Sam. “Yo, you got any idea where this thing might be? It’s not in the main hall.”

“Dean, you are the one who said that was exactly where it would be and we didn’t need any further investigation!”

“Yeah, well, I might be wrong. Zero amulets.”

“I dunno, keep scoping out the place. What’d you do with the girl?”

“Told her I was going to the bathroom, so I can’t take too long.”

“Yet another reason it was a bad idea to take her.”

“Shut it, bitch.” Dean hung up the phone, Sam was no use.

He quickly scoped out the room closest to him before deciding he needed to head back to his date.

---

She smiled as he approached. “You took a while,” she said.

“Couldn’t find it, and then there was a line of women. They take forever.”

“You try peeing in one of these dresses.”

“Nah, I’m good,” he said with a grin. She really was perfect, he’d like to have taken her out for real some time.

He glanced around, seeing the drinks table. “You want another-” he started to ask, before fading out. He saw it, the amulet. It was around the neck of the bloody hostess of the party. Not. Good.

“Yes?” Hazel asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“I- uh- sorry.”

“You see something you like?” she said with a smirk, following his line of sight to the beautiful woman with the amulet.

“Oh, no, just, you know, lost my train of thought.”

“Uh huh,” she replied, deadpan.

He looked back at her properly, “Tonight’s all about you, sweetheart.” He flashed her a smile, that usually worked.

“Let’s go talk to her, if you’re so enamoured,” she said, starting to walk towards the lady.

“No! No, wait!” he said, reaching for her hand to prevent her getting near the woman. He had a sneaking suspicion that being near the amulet would’ve been very bad for the hostess, given the descriptions he’d read about its powers. It hadn’t been entirely clear, but he had a feeling she might be being possessed by a powerful being. He didn’t want Hazel anywhere near her.

Hazel rolled her eyes and tugged her hand of his grip, heading towards the woman. “No, Hazel!” Dean said, which brought the attention of the hostess on him.

“HUNTERS!” she yelled, suddenly holding a fireball in her hand. Fuck, a witch. Hazel had paused in shock, so Dean grabbed her waist and pulled her behind him. Others were screaming and running. The witch threw the fireball, Dean dived out of the way and pulled Hazel along with him. He raced to hide behind the bar as she threw another one. The room was rapidly emptying of party-goers, running for their lives.

He reached into his pants and pulled out his gun. “Stay down,” he hissed at Hazel, who had just peeked over the bar. To his dismay, he saw her reach up under her dress and similarly pull out a gun. He groaned.

“NYPD, we can discuss your activities later,” she whispered to him.

“Of all the women on all the street corners, I got the secret cop.” She started looking like she was going to peek over the bar again and he pulled sharply on her arm to keep her down. “If those aren’t witch-killing bullets, you’ve got no chance.”

“Of all the thieves on all the street corners, I had to get the deranged one who thinks witches are real.”

“You see that fireball she threw at us? That ain’t normal, sweetheart.”

Speaking of fireballs, one took that moment to crash into the glass mirror above them, raining small pieces of glass all over them. Dean sheltered Hazel’s body with his own, then pulled out his phone.

“She’s a freaking witch, Sam!” he hissed into the phone after Sam had picked up. “We’re under attack.”

“Who is?”

“The woman who owns the amulet, she’s wearing it!”

There was a loud crack as the bar they were hiding behind took a frontal hit. It wasn’t going to last much longer.

“I’m on my way,” Sam said in the phone.

“That might be too late,” Dean replied, looking for an exit strategy. He couldn’t see one.

“There!” Hazel hissed, pointing at a door in the panelling of the back wall of the bar area. She crawled over to it, wrenching it open. “It’s a dumbwaiter.”

“Get in it,” Dean replied, “I’ll send you down.”

“No, we can both get in it. You’re not going to survive by yourself here.” To emphasise her point, more of the mirror exploded above her head. He was pretty sure the witch was just playing with them now.

He stood up, trying to get a good shot at the witch. She was surrounded by henchmen and impossible to fire at, but she threw another fireball at him.

“Ok,” he said, crossing quickly to her.

“You get in first,” Hazel ordered.

“No.”

“We’ll only fit if I’m on top of you, get in.”

He saw the determination on her face and surrendered. He awkwardly climbed in to the cramped space, then held out his hands to take her. She squished herself in on top of him, hitting a button on the side before closing the door. The cart began to drop.

Dean held his gun up, pointed at the door, as Hazel unlatched it. They were in the wine cellar, with no one around. The staff had probably run off at the sound of the gun fight upstairs. It was even harder to get out then it had been to get in, but they managed it.

Dean took a look around, looking for a door that might lead to the outside. “There,” Hazel whispered, pointing at a door to the left of them. He nodded and followed her, pulling his phone back out of his pocket.

“Sam?”

“Thank God,” Sam replied. He could hear the sound of a car, Sam must’ve jacked one. “What’s going on?”

“We’re in the cellar.”

“Ok, you’re going to need to get out and meet me so we can go back in and gank the witch.”

“I don’t think that’s going to work, Sam. They’re going to be looking for us.”

“What’s your plan?”

“I go back in, gank the witch. Sam, you get Hazel out.”

“Uh huh,” Hazel said, spinning back to him, “And how exactly are you going to do that alone?”

“Sweetheart, this ain’t my first rodeo.”

“As I might have mentioned earlier, mine either.”

“Can someone explain what is going on?” Sam yelled from the phone.

“Hazel’s a cop,” Dean replied, moving very close to her. “But no witch-killing bullets and this ain’t your normal perp, so you’re not coming with me.”

“You try to stop me going in there and it’s a crime,” she glared at him. “Obstruction of justice.”

“The justice you were looking for tonight was men who want to pick up sex workers, not witches who want to kill.”

“I’m multi-tasking.”

“The hell you are.”

“OI!” Sam yelled again. “Can you two stop squaring off for one minute to come up with a plan so you don’t both die?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

“Right,” Sam continued. “How many witch-killing bullets you got left, Dean?”

“4.”

“Give me 2,” Hazel replied.

“That will halve our chances, sweetheart.”

“You keep being that arrogant and I’ll cuff you to the dumbwaiter.”

“Jesus Christ, can you both stop it?!” Sam complained.

“Ok. I give you two bullets, and then what?”

“I go in as bait,” Hazel responded, “and you hide. If the moment presents itself, you shoot.”

“You are not going in there as bait. I did not drag an innocent into this to get killed. I’ll be bait, you hide.”

She glared at him, but eventually nodded.

“And you’re taking 3 of the bullets.”

“That’s suicide.”

“It increases our chances of you ganking the witch.”

“I’m not a bad shot.”

“Me either.”

“Ok, I’m nearly there,” Sam said from the phone, seemingly forgotten in the standoff between Dean and Hazel. “I’ll try and get in and bring extra munition. I’m tall and I have long hair, please don’t shoot me.”

“Alright, see you soon Sammy.” Dean hung up the phone. He opened his gun and started to take out bullets, handing them to her.

“So,” Hazel said with a smirk, “Dean, is it? That’s what the guy on the phone called you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure Hazel isn’t your real name either. I’ll give you 5 minutes to get in a good position before I start the distraction.”

She nodded and started to jog away to the right. He couldn’t believe he was doing this.

---

Dean took a deep breath. He’d pulled out his other gun, filled with silver bullets that were going to be useless against a witch. But they might be good on henchmen, any bullet’s a good bullet if you’re human. And they’d make a distraction.

He put the normal gun in his left hand, saving his one shot with the witch-killing bullet for his dominant hand. He didn’t think he’d get a good shot, but he’d make it count if he did.

He estimated it had been about 5 minutes since Hazel had gone. Show time.

He crept up the stairs at the opposite end to where she’d gone. He could see henchmen scouring the other rooms, probably looking for him and Hazel. He took a moment to steel himself, then headed around the corner, back into the main room.

He started firing with his left-hand gun as soon as he entered the room, taking down random henchmen. Fairly quickly he was having to dive to the side, another fireball headed his way. He didn’t know where Hazel was, which he realised was a bit of a flaw in his plan. He didn’t know where to lead the witch.

Not that he was really in control of the situation. He was barely surviving as it was. He fired over his shoulder and ran for cover.

He was diving for new cover when he spotted Sam out the corner of his eye. He diverted the other direction, hoping he was still creating enough of a diversion.

Suddenly, the room exploded behind him. He span around, ducking his head under his arms to shield himself from debris.

“Witch is dead,” he head Sam yell, “Let’s go.”

“Gotta find the girl,” Dean yelled back, searching around. He could see Sam doing the same thing on the other side of the room, intermingled with the two of them firing at the few henchmen who hadn’t fled or died already. The explosion had been dramatic, Dean had no idea how Sam had caused it.

Dean finally found Hazel, trying to extricate herself from under some debris. He lifted the remnants of a table off her, holding his hand out to her to pull her up. She limped out so he wrapped his arm around her waist, helping her move faster. They quickly made it to Sam and got out of the building.

---

“I don’t know what the hell I just witnessed tonight but I have no idea how I’m going to explain this to my supervisors,” Hazel said when they were back at the Impala.

“If I were you, I’d leave out the witch throwing fireballs. Doesn’t go down well,” Dean replied.

“I suppose you want me to leave out that the serial killers Sam and Dean Winchester were here too.”

Dean shot her a glare. “We’re not serial killers, we hunt the supernatural.”

“And sometimes the supernatural like to impersonate us and give us a bad name,” Sam added. “We didn’t shoot those people in that footage from the bank vault, monsters with our faces did.”

“Any other day and I wouldn’t have believed you, but tonight I’m a little more inclined. One question though – you always pick up random women to bring into harm's way?”

“Uh, not normally, no,” Dean said, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “I genuinely thought we were just going to be looking for the amulet tonight, and I just wanted someone to try and take some of the attention off me. Sorry.”

She laughed, “Wow, you don’t seem like a man who apologises easily.”

Sam, behind Dean, was laughing and shaking his head.

“So, what are you going to do?” Dean asked her.

“I have to call this in.”

Dean nodded, grimacing slightly.

“But that doesn’t mean I have to mention you,” she continued.

Dean smiled. Sam said, “Thank you.”

“When did you know?” Dean asked. “Who we were, I mean.”

“You looked a little familiar to me when I got in the car, but I thought you’d just been in the photo list of known sex worker users I’d looked at. Wasn’t until I learnt your names were Sam and Dean and you were handing me special bullets that I remembered.”

Dean nodded.

“Alright, you two better hit the road before anyone gets here. They probably already noticed the explosion.”

“Do I get to know your real name?” Dean said with one of his charming smiles. She gave a smirk and pulled a folded business card from out of a hidden compartment in her gun. “Thanks, sweetheart.”

She reached over and kissed his cheek, “Thanks for saving my life.”

“Anytime,” Dean replied, opening the driver’s door and jumping in. Sam jumped in the other side and they sped off, into the night.

“So how’d you make an explosion? Or did she just explode when you shot her?” Dean asked Sam.

“Witch-killing grenade, been working on it as a prototype. Same idea as the bullets.”

“Niiiiiiice.”

Dean twirled the business card in his fingers. Would've liked to get to know that girl some more.

.

.

.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural tag list:

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

@iprobablyshipit91

@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

@magssteenkamp

SPN Fanfic Pond Dean x Reader tag list:

@babypieandwhiskey

@bkwrm523

@buckys-zomdoll

@canadianspnhunter

@cas-backwards-tie

@castieltrash1

@deanscarlett

@deanwanddamons

@ellewritesfix05

@emilyshurley

@emoryhemsworth

@firefly-in-darkness

@idreamofplaid

@ilovedean-spn2

@kalesrebellion

@katelyn--renee

@kayteonline

@kickingitwithkirk

@lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

@manawhaat

@melbelle45

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@mysupernaturalfics

@notnaturalanahi

@plaidstiel-wormstache

@sinceriouslyamellpadalecki

@supernatural-jackles

@there-must-be-a-lock

@thing-you-do-with-that-thing

@trend90s

@waywardjoy

@whispersandwhiskerburn

@akshi8278

@ssonia13

[heavenssexiestangel]

In Darkness, Light Chapter 2

Arthur Ketch/Dean Winchester Masterlist

In Darkness, Light Masterlist

Any Fandom AU Bingo Masterlist (Coming soon)

Rating: Explicit

Ship: Arthur Ketch/Dean Winchester

Word count: 3768

Tags and Warnings: Vampire AU, Vampire Dean Winchester, Jewish Dean Winchester, Trans Dean Winchester, Vampie Arthur Ketch, Jewish Arthur Ketch, Poet Arthur Ketch, Arranged Marriage, original poetry, Eventual Pregnancy. Eventual new tags and characters will be added as they appear.

Summary: Dean Winchester lives in Lawrence, Kansas, with his Nest. It’s both a peaceful and harsh life, but he is not sure he’d want to change it. One day, his father tells him they must go to Lebanon, Kansas, to meet another vampire Nest - a famous and strangely big one. John tells him he’s been talking with their Alpha for months, because it’s the Nest his father came from, and he wants to be part of it even though Henry Winchester left him when he was still young. The agreement is for Dean, John’s oldest son, to marry the other Alpha’s son, Arthur Ketch. Vampires mate for life, and there would be no way for Dean to get out of it - not without jeopardizing the relationship between the two Nests and dooming theirs. Despite Dean and Arthur disliking each other since the very first time they meet, they must learn to trust and be loyal to each other, no matter how rocky their path is.

Beta by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes. Thank you!

Excerpt:

Dean eyed the house in front of them, squinting against the lustreless darkness as if it might help him find any kind of detail that might give away the fact it was the premises of a Vampire Nest. Obviously, there was none, although Dean had expected the biggest Nest in the United States to have a much bigger headquarters. From what he could see, it was just a classic American family house surrounded by a bunch of identical ones, but something in the back of his mind told him there was more than what met the eye. “C’mon, Dean. We need to talk to the Alpha.” John got out of the Impala without even looking at him, gently closing the door in a way he had never done before – usually, the man rushed out and almost broke it while closing it; Dean, from his other end, sighed and tightened his hands before stepping out and slamming the car door behind him – he’d feel guilty about it later, he already knew, but now the rage boiling inside him at being once more the family’s sacrificial lamb was too much to bear. He wished he could slam himself against something too, break his own bones or something, but it would have to wait.

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[imagineteamfreewill]

A Collapsible Crutch Christmas

Title: A Collapsible Crutch Christmas

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Canonical violence, broken bone and pain from moving a broken bone, vomiting, passing out, mentions of splinting a broken bone, snowstorm, angst with a fluffy ending

Square/Trope Filled: Blizzard (SPN Christmas Bingo) and Rescue Mission (25 Days of Tropes)

Summary: On a solo hunt, you find yourself not only nursing a major injury, but snowed into a cabin on Christmas.

A/N: This is a submission for the 2022 SPN Christmas Bingo (@spnchristmasbingo​)and fulfills a trope on my 25 Days of Tropes list! It is more angsty than my other Christmas fics, but I hope you all enjoy (even though it’s after the holidays). Dividers by @firefly-graphics​

25 Days of Tropes Masterlist

Highway 75 twisted through miles of deep forest, making it and the cabins nearby a picturesque location for honeymooning couples, college students on summer road trips, and families looking to unplug. It also made it perfect for wendigos and a handful of other creatures that liked to prey on the unsuspecting.

Snow crunched underneath your boots as you trekked away from the highway, heading for the log cabin you knew was a few miles in. The public trails all led in the opposite direction, but this was the shortest route and it would give you a chance to check out the area without worrying about civilians. Your backpack was full of nonperishable food and extra layers of clothing, along with your usual hunting supplies. You knew that Sam had slipped in an extra charger for your phone, along with batteries for the flashlight, and Dean had packed an extra knife somewhere in your bag. They always worried about you, despite the fact that you’d been hunting almost as long as they had. It wasn’t your first time going on a solo case, but the eeriness of the silent, winter woods made you wish that you’d taken Dean up on his offer to come with.

Behind you, the sun had sunk low on the horizon, casting shadows that stretched far across the ground. You shivered and zipped your coat up a little further, then pulled the maglight out of your pocket. It turned on with a click that felt far louder than necessary and you looked around.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Something was wrong. You slowed, then stopped and turned in a circle, shining the flashlight in every direction. The light glanced off the trees and made the snow on the ground almost blindingly white, but there were no monsters to be seen and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. You knew better, though. Your instincts were fine tuned after years of hunting, and when your gut told you something was wrong, you needed to listen.

You slipped your gun out of the thigh holster and clicked off the safety. After a moment, you began walking again, heading toward the cabin with a slightly faster pace. Your heart pounded in your chest and you stayed on high alert, all while trying not to trip over your boots or the bumpy forest floor hidden under the fresh powder. A cold wind blew through the trees, cutting through your clothing like a knife and making you curse under your breath. The first thing you’d have to do once you got to the cabin is start a fire to warm up, then eat. Your stomach had been growling ever since you’d parked in the public lot near the trailheads.

When the cabin was finally visible in the distance, you relaxed a little. As soon as you did, however, something grabbed your pack and yanked you backwards, sending you flying to the ground. Your flashlight flew out of your hand, its beam shining off to your right. You yelped, then lifted your gun and fired off two shots at the hulking beast above you. Its pale limbs blended into the snowy landscape, and it was only the weak light from the winter sunset that allowed you to see its face. 

You’d read up on the news reports before leaving the bunker. You, Sam, and Dean had all agreed that it was a single wendigo that was taking out the hikers and photographers who’d braved the weather to take pictures of the trees covered with snow and ice. The reports had all been consistently spread out several weeks apart for over a decade, but it had been almost three months since the last one. You’d been skeptical that this was even a case worthy of your attention—after all, another hunter could have easily offed the monster without your knowledge—but Sam had been certain that the wendigo was still out there.

Now, as the monster growled at you from above, you realized that Sam had been right. The weather had been so bad that the trails had been closed for two months now, which meant that not only were you dealing with an incredibly strong wendigo, but you were dealing with a very hungry one, too. There hadn’t been anyone for it to hunt, and now you were its main target.

You cursed and righted yourself, scrambling to your feet and moving as far away from the wendigo as you could. A flare gun was in your other thigh holster and you quickly pulled it out, but before you could shoot, the creature disappeared. The woods fell deathly silent again and you tried not to breathe so loudly as you listened for any sign of the wendigo.

Slowly, you turned in a circle, surveying the quickly darkening forest. The sun was almost completely below the horizon and the flashlight had flickered off. The only light visible was the outdoor safety light by the cabin door a quarter mile away.

You stayed silent as you carefully made your way toward the cabin again, this time with your handgun in one hand and the flare gun in the other. When you were only a few hundred feet from the rickety cabin porch, the wendigo grabbed at your arm. It yanked you to the right and your handgun went flying. It discharged once, sending a bullet into a nearby tree, then disappeared in the shadows and snow. The wendigo’s claws tore through your coat like butter. Immediately, the cold slipped in through your layers and a shiver ran down your spine, but the adrenaline making your heart pound would quickly negate its effects.

You struggled against its grip. When it became clear that there would be no escaping the hungry monster’s grasp, you twisted as much as possible to get the flare gun into your dominant hand so you could shoot with better aim. It took a few tries before you were able to grab it and get your finger onto the trigger. You had one shot, and though your heart thundered in your chest and every part of your brain was screaming at you to fight and get away, you took a deep breath and tried to calm yourself so you could focus. 

The trigger moved smoothly under your finger. You pulled and seconds felt like hours. You held your breath, listening as the flare lodged itself in the wendigo’s chest. It screeched and threw you away from itself, sending you flying through the air and into a fallen tree. Even over the creature’s horrific screams you heard the snap of your leg breaking upon impact. The snow did nothing to cushion your fall. You screamed too, your own cry mixing with the wendigo’s as it burned to ashes in the darkness of the forest.

All around you, the temperature continued to drop and snow began to fall. You clutched your thigh as sobs ripped through you, making your throat more and more hoarse with each passing minute. The pain shooting up your leg was unbearable every time you tried to move, and though you’d had worse injuries, you’d never had to face them alone.

Finally, rationality kicked in and you realized you had to get inside the cabin before hypothermia set in. The snow grew worse by the minute, and you vaguely remembered the radio host mentioning a blizzard coming down from the north. If you weren’t inside soon, you could freeze to death and nobody would find you for days. Getting to the cabin was your only hope of survival, no matter how painful it would be.

You groped around in the snow, digging through the heavy, wet powder until you were able to find one of the fallen tree’s branches. With the last bits of adrenaline still rushing through your veins, you pulled on it until it snapped off. It emerged from the snow with another firm tug, and then you were able to use it to push yourself up off the ground. The branch was long enough for you to use as a crutch if you hunched over. You just had to hope it would make it all the way to the cabin’s door.

The pain as you dragged yourself from where the wendigo had left you to the cabin porch was excruciating. Every survival instinct you had kicked in and you had to fight against yourself just to keep going. 

“Come on, come on, open!” you screeched. You banged on the front door with your fist, being mindful to keep your weight on your good leg and keep yourself propped against the cracked wooden doorframe. Your makeshift crutch had fallen down beside you, but you left it alone—you wouldn’t need it until you got this door open.

The door swung open into the cabin with one last heavy shove. You almost fell through into the living room when it did. Snow blew in as you stumbled inside, tripping over the threshold with a shout, and grabbed onto the back of the couch a few feet inside the door. Thankfully, you managed to avoid much impact on your broken leg, but you still had to stop for a minute and gasp for air as the snow continued to blow into the cabin from the open door behind you. Black spots danced in your vision as you held onto the couch with a white-knuckled grip, trying to catch your breath.

When you finally managed to summon the energy to stand upright again, you pivoted on one foot to reach back and grab the makeshift crutch you’d left on the porch. You shook off the snow before pulling it inside, then locked the door and hobbled around to the front of the couch, using the crutch to support you most of the way. The fireplace was barren, not even ashes had been left behind by the previous occupants, but you were able to lower yourself to the floor between it and the couch. A stack of locks had been pushed up against the wall and you sent your silent thanks to whoever had had the forethought to stock it for the next guest.

Slowly but surely, the warmth of the fire filled the cabin, and the light from the flames allowed you to get a better look around. The lamp nearby hadn’t turned on when you’d tried, leaving you to believe that either the power had gone out or there was a problem with the generator. Either way, you weren’t in any shape to investigate, so the fire would have to do.

Your energy was slowly being sapped away by all the movement, but you needed to splint your leg and figure out if there was anything other triaging you could do before you passed out. After taking a few deep breaths, you braced yourself with one hand on the couch cushions and pushed yourself up. You wobbled on your good leg for a second, then grabbed your crutch and headed for the bathroom you’d noticed on your way in. A first aid kit had been wedged in the cabinet under the sink, and with it safely in hand, you limped back to your spot on the floor.

You collapsed onto the now snow-soaked rug, heaving as bile rose up in your throat. The pain worsened with every movement you made, and having to get up to get the first aid kit had taken an extreme toll on you.

Over the next few hours, you drifted in and out of consciousness as you put your leg into a splint and tried to fix your injuries as best as you could until you could call for help. The blizzard raged outside, and each time you came to, you stoked the fire, threw up beside you, and tried to triage as best as you could before passing out again. At some point, you managed to peel off the holsters on both legs, lamenting the loss of your weapons. You hoped that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

A gust of cold wind coming in through the open door made your fire sputter, almost going out, and a shiver ran through your body before you could stop it. You groaned at the sharp knife of pain that went up your leg, then your hip and back.

“Shit! Sam, she’s hurt!”

Dean’s voice made you open your eyes just enough to catch a glimpse of his face as he hovered over you. He cupped your cheek in his hand but you whined and shied away at the chill of his gloves met your heated skin.

“How long has she been here?” Sam asked.

The door slammed closed and the howling of the blizzard grew muffled again. Beside you, there was a heavy thud. The wood floor of the cabin shook beneath you as Sam and Dean hurried around. Someone shifted your leg on the rug and you cried out. Your eyes flew open and Dean was immediately above you, his eyes frantically trying to meet yours. He grabbed your hands before you could do any harm to him or Sam.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Hey, sweetheart. It’s okay. We’re just fixing your splint a little bit and tryin’ to figure out what happened. Can you talk to me?” 

You recognized that tone of voice—Dean was panicking, but he was trying not to show it. Something inside of you reminded you that he was mostly panicking because he didn’t know what had happened and that the wendigo was really gone. His anxiety wasn’t a sign that your leg was worse than you’d originally diagnosed.

It took you a moment, but you managed to croak out an answer. “It threw me,” you rasped. You licked your lips and swallowed against the sandpaper feeling in your mouth. “But it’s dead.”

He nodded and forced a small smile. His eyes were glossy, and in your pain-riddled mind, you knew that you didn’t want him to be.

“I’m okay,” you told him, and you tried to force a smile as well, but in reality, it was probably more of a weak grimace. “I think it’s just broken.”

Dean nodded again. “Okay. Okay. Sam’s gonna check it out. Did you take any painkillers?”

When you shook your head, he looked over his shoulder, then reached out and took the white bottle from his brother. With one hand, you tried to sit up without jostling your leg too much, but after throwing up so many times from the pain and the injury itself, you were weak. Dean noticed immediately, of course, and quickly ditched the bottle of pills to help you.

“Water?” you asked.

Sam was there immediately, holding out a bottle for you. You took it and he went back to searching through the first aid kit. Dean shook out a couple pills and passed them to you once you had the cap unscrewed on the bottle. You closed your eyes as you drank, panting against the open mouth of the bottle after a long drink, and when you opened them again, Dean had a bottle of whiskey in hand.

He smiled a little at your confused expression, then held up a packet of crackers you recognized from when you’d packed your bag. Behind him, Sam mumbled something and Dean shifted, moving from beside you to sit behind you so you could lean against his chest. He pulled you back against him and situated his legs on either side of you.

“Sam’s gonna fix your splint a little bit more so that when we travel back to the road, it’s a bit easier for you. Take a drink,” he instructed. 

You took the whiskey when he held it out to you from behind, lifting it to your lips and taking a long swig. The drink burned on the way down and you winced, shuddering slightly, and Dean chuckled. You felt it against your back when his chest rumbled with laughter. Relief flooded you when the realization hit you that things would be okay now. Sam and Dean were here—you weren’t alone.

Dean rubbed his hand over the thigh on your good leg and you leaned back against him a little more, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. You closed your eyes, wincing and grunting as Sam adjusted the split. Dean’s other hand found yours and you squeezed it hard.

“It’s okay,” he murmured. “It’s okay.”

You nodded. “Mmhmm. Keep talking?”

“We hadn’t heard from you, so we came looking.”

“In the—” You hissed in pain, your whole body tensing and your hand squeezing Dean’s even harder as Sam profusely apologized from where he bent over your injured leg. “In the middle of a blizzard?”

“It’s not so bad now,” Dean said. His voice was soft and low in your ear, and he paused to kiss the side of your head. “We borrowed some snowmobiles from the ranger station a few miles away. I’m surprised none of them came out here to check the cabins.”

You hummed, trying to focus on his voice and the warmth of the whiskey instead of the pain coursing through your body. The painkillers would be kicking in soon, but until then, you had to ignore the churning of your stomach and the pain trying to push you back into unconsciousness.

“I missed you so much. I was worried about you, and it’s Christmas Eve. We didn’t want to celebrate without you.”

If it was Christmas Eve, you’d been lying on the floor of the cabin for almost a full day. There was no light coming in from the windows of the living room; you’d been so out of it that you hadn’t even realized when the sun had been up, unless the snow from the storm had blocked it out entirely.

“It would’ve been okay,” you groaned. “We would’ve celebrated later.”

Reaching one arm around you, Dean pulled you back against him, holding you down as your reflexes tried to move you away from Sam as he worked. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks as your back arched against the pain.

“No, it wouldn’t have. Last year was our first Christmas together, but we got held up with that Crowley thing, so I didn’t get to celebrate properly with you. I wanted to be with you this year. I wasn’t gonna let a little snow stop me,” he said.

You laughed, a bit of a groan slipping through as you grit your teeth together and tried to stay still. “A little snow, huh?”

“A little snow,” Dean repeated, chuckling. “He’s almost done, sweetheart, and then we’re gonna get out of here.”

Sam spoke up as he tightened the split, and you forced your eyes open to look at him.

“We can’t leave now, Dean,” Sam said, and Dean shifted behind you. “Y/N needs to rest and hydrate. She probably needs to eat something, too.”

Your stomach churned again and you swallowed down the bile. “Don’t talk about food. Please.”

As Sam worked, Dean continued to comfort you and hold you, until finally, they would be able to move you. The painkillers had kicked in and once they moved you to the queen-sized bed in the only bedroom, you were able to relax for the first time in days. You refused the crackers when your stomach flipped at the sight of them, but Dean left them within reach of your spot on the mattress in case you woke up hungry. 

Sam stoked the small fireplace opposite the bed while Dean arranged the blankets and pillows for you, and as he moved, you caught a glimpse of the time on his watch.

“Dean,” you said, grabbing his hand as it moved past. “Dean, hey.”

He paused, looking down at you. When he saw you smiling at him, he chuckled and smiled back, then took his other hand to brush the hair off your sweaty forehead.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?”

You nodded. “I’m good. Those painkillers really helped,” you told him, laughing a little. He laughed again and carefully took a knee beside the bed so he was closer to eye level with you. “But guess what?”

“Are you going to say chicken butt again?” he asked, and you grinned a little wider.

“No. Merry Christmas.”

A little v-shaped wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he lifted his other hand to check his watch, and then he smiled again.

“12:03,” he read aloud. “Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

Drowsiness was creeping up on you, aided by the warmth of the blankets and the fire, and Dean seemed to sense it. He reached out again and ran a hand over your hair. His expression softened and the firelight made his eyes sparkle a little. 

At some point, Sam had left the room, so when Dean leaned in to kiss you, you reached up to keep him close. Compared to other kisses, it didn’t even rank in terms of intensity, but you knew you’d remember this one for a long time. He braced one hand on the mattress and lifted himself up to lean just slightly over you, and you shifted to the side to kiss him better. His other hand slid up from your cheek to tangle into your hand for just a moment before he pulled away. You kept him close, one hand gripping the slightly damp fabric of his jacket. After a moment, you opened your eyes, but you had to blink a few times to focus on his face.

Dean smiled, chuckling slightly before pressing a second kiss to your forehead. “I love you. Get some rest, okay? I’ll come check on you in a few hours,” he murmured.

You whined and gripped his jacket a little tighter. “No, stay.”

He pried your fingers from the lapel. “Sam and I have a couple things to take care of. I promise I’ll be back.”

Nodding, you relaxed back against the pillows and released him fully. You kept smiling even as he exited the room, then closed your eyes. It felt like only moments had passed when you opened them again, but sunlight was peeking through from behind the curtains. The fire still crackled, though the stack of logs beside it had gone down, meaning that Dean had kept his promise to check on you throughout the night.

Groaning, you shifted yourself to sit up a little bit more in the bed. “Dean?” you called. “Sam?”

Silence answered you and panic fluttered in your chest for a brief moment. You were about to call again when the door swung open and Dean stepped inside, smiling. He quickly shut the door behind him.

“Hey, how you feelin’?” he asked.

You smiled a little, still fighting against sleep, and yawned. “Still not great, but better than before. Are we going home today?”

He nodded and came toward the bed. “Hospital first, then home, but uh… There’s something else we have to do first.”

Smile fading, you helped Dean move the blankets off your legs, then accepted the water bottle and pills he’d set out on the bedside table while you’d been asleep.

“Is everything okay? Was there another disappearance?”

His eyes grew wide and he carefully pushed you down by the shoulder when you started to sit up even further. “No. Hey, no. Everything’s fine, Y/N. You got it. It’s dead. Relax for a second.”

“Then what do we have to do?”

Dean didn’t answer, but Sam knocked and stuck his head in the door. “She ready?” he asked. When Dean nodded, Sam opened the door the rest of the way and held out a pair of crutches.

You propped yourself up on both hands, looking between them with a smile. “Where did you even find those?”

They handed them off to you and Dean helped you carefully pivot on the bed, then stand, using the crutches to support your weight. Sam had fixed the splint well enough that you were able to follow the two of them out into the living room of the cabin.

“What— What is all this?”

An evergreen tree had been propped up in one corner. Pinecones and balls of tinfoil had been used in place of ornaments and there were stockings hung on the mantle of the fireplace. The fire crackled, warming the entire room and from where you stood, you could spy three bowls of soup and mugs of hot chocolate set out on the coffee table you’d originally shoved out of the way.

You laughed, at a loss for words. “What—? How?”

Dean led you over to the couch and helped you settle in the middle, smiling wide. “We brought the stockings and the presents—”

“The presents?” you asked, gaping at him.

Sam laughed and set a few wrapped packages beside you. You glanced at them, looked up at him, and then over at Dean again.

“The soup and hot chocolate was in your bag and the dishes were in the cabinets,” Sam explained. “The crutches were part of an emergency kit loaded onto the snowmobiles. They’re collapsible ones, but they’re better than that stick you had when we showed up.”

The couch dipped as Dean sat on the other side of you, and the packages slid down against your leg. He set his hand on your thigh, smiling.

“I know it’s not a real Christmas with lights and a fancy dinner, but I was thinking that it was better than nothing,” 

Smiling, you reached up to cup his face with one hand, keeping his gaze on you. “It’s perfect,” you told him. “I love it.”

You kissed him, just as gently as the night before, and brushed your thumb over his cheekbone. He squeezed your thigh in return.

Thank you for reading! <3

If you liked this story, please reblog! That is the best way to share your love for my work and to spread it so that other people can enjoy this story. If you would like to support me further, please consider supporting my writing by donating on Ko-fi, supporting me on Patreon, or commissioning a story of your own!

@mrswhozeewhatsis​ @alexwinchester23​ @shaelyn102​ @lyarr24​ @supermoonpanda​ @ultimatecin73​ @musiclovinchic93​ @shamelesslydean​ @mlovesstories​ @ellie-andthemachine​ @karikatz12481​ @amionthetumbler​ @akshi8278​

[julesthequirky]

Masterlist

Please assume that all works on this blog are aimed at those 18 and over. For those under, please do not engage.

Supernatural

Jensen: Includes all Jensen fics and any character he has played.

Jared: Includes all Jared fics and any character he has played.

Misha: Includes all Misha fics and any character he has played.

Chuck/God

Creedence Creek Trilogy

The Boys

The Vampire Diaries

Threesomes and Moresomes

Bingoes

SPN Kink Bingo 2019

Heaven and Hell Bingo 2019

Suptober 2019 (It is not a bingo, but it's going here, anyway)

Jules' Fic Recs

[all-alone-he-turns-to-stone]

SPN Kink Event 2023 - Masterlist

So I’m so happy with this card for the @spnkinkevents​, and to fill it up in 2 months is a good challenge for me! 

Squares under the cut

Sensory Deprivation

Fuck Buddies

Incest Kink

Kitten Play

Free Space : The Deal (Dean x Benny)

Fire Play

BDSM

Ball Gags: All It Takes (Sam x GN!Reader)

Strap Ons : Unforgettable (Dean x Reader)

[holylulusworld]

2022 SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist

Preview for the upcoming fics to fill the squares.

(Please consider none of the stories are available yet.)

Stories written for: @spnchristmasbingo​​

Find 2021 SPN Chrismas bingo here: 2021 SPN Christmas Bingo Masterlist

Square 1: Safe trip (Dean Winchester x Reader): Road trip

Square 2: Big grump (Dean Winchester x Reader): Photographs

Square 3: ??? (??? x Reader): Building a snowman

Square 4: ??? (??? x Reader): Sledding

Square 5: ??? (??? x Reader): Friends to lovers

Square 6: ??? (??? x Reader): Elf on the shelf

Square 7: ??? (??? x Reader): Skiing

Square 8: Wrapped (Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Reader): Decorating

Square 9: Summer in Winter (John Winchester x Reader): Secret relationship

Square 10: ??? (??? x Reader): Opening a present on Christmas Eve

Square 11: ??? (??? x Reader): Taking the decorations down

Square 12: ??? (??? x Reader): Hot cocoa

Square 13: ??? (??? x Reader): Secret Santa

Square 14: ??? (??? x Reader): Christmas Eve

Square 15: ??? (??? x Reader): Velvet

Square 16: Cabin of love (2) - A short ride (Alpha!Dean Winchester x Reader): Road closed

Square 17: ??? (??? x Reader): Popcorn

Square 18: ??? (??? x Reader): Lingerie

Square 19: I never was (Dean Winchester x Reader): Coming home for Christmas

Square 20: The pie whisperer (Dean Winchester x Baker!Reader): Pie

Square 21: ??? (??? x Reader): Ice skating  

Square 22: ??? (??? x Reader): Alone at Christmas  

Square 23: Eggnog rocks (Dean Winchester x Wife!Reader): Whiskey

Square 24: From Santa with love (??? x Reader): Sending Holiday cards 

Square 25: ??? (??? x Reader): Taking a bath 

Beautiful X-Mas divider by @firefly-graphics​

Find more special events/bingos here: Special Events & Stories Masterlist

[muffinbeliever]

Drunk Confessions

The reader makes fun, girly drinks for the boys. Chaos ensues. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 582 (she's a smol one!)

Warnings: alcohol (?), fluff, very rushed lol 

Square Filled: Feelings Accidentally Revealed @spnfluffbingo

A/N: oh my god hello everyone i am so sorry for the long hiatus/break that i took unexpectedly i missed you all so much and i felt so guilty every day that i didn’t write oops here is a little drabble because i cant bring myself to write more than 2 pages right now, for my 2022 fluff bingo that i am continuing through 2023 (OOPS) i love you all and i hope you enjoy !!!

Masterlist | SPN Fluff Bingo 2022 Masterlist

You slammed the shot glass on the table as the whiskey burned your throat. Your face wrinkled in disgust.

“Oh, that is just… that’s awful,” you said with a shudder. “You guys like this stuff?” 

Sam threw his head back with a laugh while Dean looked at you like you grew two heads. 

“What?” You asked, defensively. “Don’t tell me whiskey tastes better than literally any fruity cocktail in existence.” 

“Dean is still scarred from the time he drank purple nurples,” Sam smirked. 

“What the hell is a purple nurple?” 

“Don’t even ask,” Dean groaned, shaking his head. An idea sparked in your head before you could reply, so you curbed your curiosity, formulating a plan instead. 

“I’ll be right back,” you announced, as you stood from the wooden chair. 

An hour and three drinks later, you were buzzing with alcohol, your body filled with warmth. 

“Woah, Sam, are you drunk?” You asked, perplexed. In all of your years with the brothers, you had never seen either of them drunk. Alcohol was like water to them. 

“Psh, yeah,” he said, sassily. 

“How is that possible? You’re a giant. And you’ve been drinking since you were twelve!” 

“‘Cause Sammy only drinks beer, sweetheart. You get three shots of liquor in him, and he’s out for the night,” Dean laughed, but his slightly slurred words and shining green eyes indicated that he, too, was pretty far gone. 

“At least I’m not short.” Sam bit back from where he was slouched in an armchair, giving his classic bitch face. "And bossy.” You laughed at his seriousness. He looked over at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing so hard over there, Y/N/N. You’re the one who’s in love with him.” Your jaw dropped at Sam’s bluntness, your eyes quickly darting towards the older, henley-wearing hunter, who was luckily drunk and distracted. 

“Shut up, Sam,” you laughed, nervously, hoping Dean was too drunk to hear the tremble in your voice. 

“Please. Sound familiar? ‘I would rather stay in Purgatory for a week than spend one more night listening to Dean with another girl,’” Sam said, mocking you in a higher-pitched voice. 

“You said you’d never bring that up!” Your face was heated, embarrassment steadily growing inside of you. “And I don’t sound like that!” 

“I’m getting another drink,” Sam slurred, getting out of his chair. 

You watched with amusement as he stumbled towards the alcohol on the table, carefully sniffing each one, before settling on a fruity cocktail you had finished making just minutes before. You smiled at your small triumph.

You looked over towards Dean again, your heart melting at the bright smile he flashed you. 

“Hey,” you murmured once he was close enough. He pulled you into his arms, and you relaxed in his embrace. Drunk Dean was handsy and affectionate, always talking about how good you smelled. You were familiar with Drunk Dean, having met him a few times throughout your years with the brothers. 

“If I had known you felt that way, I wouldn’t see all those girls,” he said, quietly. Your heart soared at his words— the words you’ve been wanting to hear for so long now— but you knew that it was wrong for you to ask this of Dean, and you shook your head. 

“No I get it, it’s your coping mechanism. You like it,” you argued, albeit weakly.

“No, Y/N. I like you,” Dean insisted, before capturing your lips with his. 

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