Call me Kirby! | She/her | 20s | Started April 2026
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I’m currently a “fade to black” blog, but I am open to branching out! If you have a request that you’re unsure about, just ask nicely and I’ll respond with an honest answer based on how comfortable I feel with writing it <3
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Have fun!! (We’re reading about hot men here, let’s have fun with it🥰)
Currently Writing...
❥ "I'm on Fire" (Jack Abbot x OC Series) Part 8
❥ "Too Many Cooks" Off Campus miniseries (John Tucker x culinary student!reader) Part 4
❥ Dean Winchester x reader soulmate!au miniseries Part 1
Dreaming Up Ideas for...
❥ Off Campus oneshots
❥ Criminal Minds oneshots
❥ Marvel/Bucky Barnes oneshots
❥ Pope Cody x reader miniseries Part 1
❥Bucky Barnes x reader oneshot fic
Requests are currently...
Open! (but my pace will be slow :p)
Masterlists❣
❥ "I'm on Fire" (Jack Abbot x OC Series)
❥ Jack Abbot Masterlist (coming soon…)
❥ Pope Cody Masterlist (coming soon…)
❥ Off Campus Masterlist (coming soon…)
❥ Criminal Minds Masterlist (coming soon…)
❥ Supernatural Masterlist (coming soon…)
Don't Fear the Reaper || Dean Winchester x reader || soulmate!au (Part 1)
Series Summary Here!
Word count: 2.1k (a little light start, sort of a fun lil prologue)
Pt 1 Summary: It's always a good day to be Dean Winchester, especially at night. So when Dean and his brother Sam stumbled upon a couple of pretty girls at some random bar, he's feeling real lucky. However, even the Winchesters can get too distracted by pair of pretty eyes and an equally pretty face. So distracted, they barely noticed trouble coming their way. AKA—you're great at slight of hand
Relationships: (slowburn) Dean Winchester x soulmate!reader, reader x sister!oc (no physical description of her tho), redacted pairing bc spoilers
Tags/Warnings: f!reader, Slowwwwburn, enemies to lovers!, Banter & Bickering (MY B&B YUMM), seasons 1-2 canon divergence, sudden badly written POV swap lol, Supernatural typical gore/blood/violence, medical inaccuracies (i'm so sorry), poisoning/drink spiking (not fatal), prob some typos tbh sorry y'all, suggestive content (smut in future parts), allusion to past abusive home life, no physical description of reader or her siblings/family, no use of y/n, ANGST!!! Comfort! FLUFF!
Notes: This idea has been in my notes since before I even started this blog. I mf loveeeee a soulmate!au fic, especially when they're either reluctant, in denial, or completely clueless. I also love the reader for this series, normally I write them a bit more introverted and reluctantly social but this girl just HAD to be hell on wheels...pls listen to this song even just a little guys, I had it on loop when I was writing this part out
“Welp,” Dean sighed, taking another swig of his beer. “I’d say we’ve earned that day off—or, well, the six hours before we meet up with Bobby.” He continued, rambling basically to himself as Sam’s gaze drifted past Dean’s shoulder. “Whad’ya say? Little daylight pub crawl?”
At the resounding silence, Dean finally noticed his brother.
Brown eyes wide. Mouth slightly opened. Hand stalled mid air with his glass.
“Sammy?” Dean waved in his little brother’s face. “You listen to a word I said?”
Sam was still frozen, eyes glassy and fixated on something across the bar. “She’s beautiful...” His voice trailed off, breathless and entranced.
If Dean hadn’t turned to see what the hell he was watching, he might’ve thought Sam had been under some spell. But he looked—at the corner booth over near the pool table—and nearly choked on beer.
Two women were sitting across from one another. Relatively young, late twenties at most, and fucking gorgeous—both of them. Maybe that should’ve been the first warning, but who was Dean Winchester to not notice some pretty girls?
One kinda fluttered in her seat, hands animatedly moving. Around her shoulders was a dainty purple cardigan, and the equally pretty smile she wore practically glittered under the bar lamps. Meanwhile the other seemed to have a perpetual smirk, listening intently to what the purple girl was rambling about as she leaned back languidly into the vinyl.
As bright and shiny as the first girl was, this one drew him in. Even from across the bar, Dean could see the dozens of puzzling layers that he wanted to spend hours unwrapping—or, more likely, undressing. He couldn’t help it as his eyes trailed across her form. Focus landing squarely on her chipped nails tracing lazy shapes in the glass’s condensation. Then, almost painfully slow, one hand wrapped around the glass, lifting it up to her lips. A single drop of her drink slid down her mouth.
Slack jawed, Dean watched as her tongue chased the droplet. Her lips still pulled up in a slight smirk.
Dean whistled low. “That.” He enunciated by gesturing the bottle neck towards the woman. “Is trouble. You aren’t messing with that.”
Sam whipped his head around, trance broken and a thin pout now pursed on his lips. “What the hell does that mean?”
His older brother grinned, glancing back at the table just in time to see the smirking one peel off her jacket, revealing a tight green v-neck hugging just the right places.
“Sorry, Sammy. But you can’t possibly handle all that.”
Sam’s brows pinched, pouting further as he saw exactly where his brother was looking. “Wha—I was talking about the other girl.”
“Purple sweater?”
Sam aggressively nodded, reminding Dean of the time when Sam was twelve and he had a deadly crush on the public pool’s lifeguard.
Dean looked towards the booth again, right on time to seen the green subtly glance back. She locked eyes with him, just once, and then casually resumed her conversation—as if she hadn’t just sent a perfect volley right into his court.
“Bingo.” Dean slammed his empty bottle down, arms now free to wrangle his little brother by the scruff. “C’mon, Sammy. Show time.”
Sam’s eyes widened, fiercely fighting the pull. “Dean—absolutely not.”
But his brother was still grinning wildly as he manhandled the lanky giant. It was far too late for any of Sam’s excuses anyways, as Dean had swiftly parked them right in front of the corner booth. Perks of being in some rundown dive bar in butt-fuck nowhere, this place was smaller than a shoebox.
“Dude—,“ Sam protested right before his brother swiveled him to face the table.
Dean cleared his throat, putting on his signature honey-sweet tone. “Ladies, I was wondering if you could help me and my brother out, we’re in a bit of a pickle here.”
Both girls turned towards them, but Dean instantly watched the green.
It was like as soon you’d looked at him, smirk mirroring his own, there was nothing else he could see. Blinders on. A hazy vignette perfectly framing your face.
Up this close, however, you looked familiar somehow. But being Dean, he simply swatted it off as the growing buzz of booze and the moment.
Instantly, you perked up. Voice more chipper and bubbly than he was expecting. “Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” Eyes trailing down Dean as you not so subtly leaned forward, arms pushing your cleavage together.
Well, Dean was in for a world of trouble tonight—and he was ecstatic.
“What angels.”
This time, your smile glinted as you giggled. “Are you just gonna stand there?” Painted nails gesturing to either side of the booth.
Across from you, the other girl was fidgeting with her hair, far more afraid of holding Sam’s eye contact than you were with Dean. Sam didn’t look put off in the slightest though. In fact, he looked like the place could catch fire and he’d still be staring at her, equally as entrance as the moment he first spotted her across the bar.
Gulping a little, Sam attempted a calm, easy tone. “This seat taken?”
The purple girl smiled sweetly as she fiddled with the long sleeves of her cardigan. “Not at all.”
You grinned. “Well, ain’t that peachy?” Holding Dean’s eye contact as you slid farther into the booth, making a suggestive amount of space for him.
Hell of a way to top off a hunt.
Over the next ten minutes, you’d told the boys all about the roadtrip—your little sister’s graduation present. The names you gave were believable enough, even if Dean had a sneaking suspicion you were fibbing.
It honestly made him even more intrigued, reflexively leaning closer with every giggle and teasing squeeze you gave to his bicep. Your aura was intoxicating, increasing by the second—so much so that he didn’t pick up on the ways you kept popping in to answer every question, especially the ones thrown your sister’s way. Under normal circumstances, Sam and Dean’s alarm bells would’ve been ringing to hell. But staring at you two had all sense silenced from their minds.
All according to your plan.
Across the table, your sister coughed. “Um, it’s almost half past.”
You pouted dramatically in your seat, Dean’s eyes still trailing your every minor movement. “Gosh darn! I’m sorry boys, we’ve gotta head back. We walked here and our motel’s almost twenty minutes away.”
A lightbulb flickered behind Dean’s eyes, glancing excitedly at his brother. “Walk? At this time of night?” He shook his head at you chastisingly, still smirking. “We can’t have that, I’ll be tied up in knots wondering if you’re safe. How ‘bout we give you both a ride? Our motel’s not far off either.”
In fact, Dean knew there was only one motel in town.
You batted your lashes at him, running your nails down his leather jacket. “As long as it’s not too much trouble.”
Dean leaned his smirk closer, eyes darting down to your lips. “I’d say the only trouble here is you.”
Your eyes flared as another high pitched giggle bubbled out. Dean just thought he was just real funny tonight and you were real into it. It only made you laugh harder, positively tickled by how clueless he was by the ironic joke he’d accidentally made.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite.” Your fingers now fiddling with the collar of his jacket.
“What a shame.”
Sam coughed awkwardly, giving your sister a ‘sorry for my brother’ kind of smile when she rolled her eyes at you two.
“That okay with you?” He asked so tenderly it made your sister visibly gulp.
“Um, yeah, absolutely. Thank you.”
He only nodded, still locking eyes with her. They’d been doing that for the past thirty minutes, basically silent save for your conversation. It was so nauseating you almost forgot yourself and allowed your eyes to roll. Instead, you leaned more into the ditz bit and giggled next to Dean’s ear.
With a grin, Dean clapped his hands, relishing in the feeling of your manicured hand resting on his bicep. “Well, Shall we?”
After parking the car, Dean had an arm draped across your shoulder whilst he showed off Baby—off course, only since you insisted on the full tour. Like you said, you don’t know anything about cars, but they look so darn cute!
And would you look at that? His car was parked around the back. No one in sight and barely any windows facing that way. Dean, however, didn’t pick up on the fact that there weren't any cars in the parking lot—at all—except his.
“Fixed her up myself.” Patting Baby’s trunk like as slap on the ass.
Your eyes were wide as you stared in awe at Dean. “Goodness gracious! So what do you and your brother do for work? Seem real capable.” The exaggerated giggle making your sister now roll her eyes.
Dean couldn’t give a shit about your borderline desperate flirting, he’d done far more embarrassing things to sleep with a chick. He was just happy to be at the receiving end of it.
“We’re mechanics. It’s a family business.” The other arm going out to hook around Sam’s neck. “I do most of the heavy lifting, though.”
Dean somehow grinned even wider as she giggled again. “I bet.”
Beside him, Sam grunted awkwardly. His elbow roughly poking Dean in the rib, hands clawing to remove the around from around his neck. “I don’t feel so good, man.”
Past Sam’s shoulder— and thankfully out of their eyeline—your sister’s head whipped up. Angry recognition flitting across her face as she stared at you.
Dean shoved Sam’s hand away, glaring out the side of his eye. “You’re fine. Drink some water or something.” However, the sudden motion seemed to remind him of how many beers he must’ve had that night. Head spinning for a moment before he twisted back to you.
Still smiling, you also ignored his brother—and the sniper dot practically appearing on your forehead from your sister’s glare. “You travel a lot?”
Dean squinted, the dizziness whirring around his vision once more. Voice coming through muddy and warped.
He coughed, “Sorry, I’m, um—a little. Here and there for jobs.”
In an instant, your smile sharpened. Bubbly tone snuffed out. “That why you got stolen plates?”
“Wha—fuck.”
Dean was slumped over in a second, dropping at the same time as Sam. Whatever they’d been given was strong, but it certainly wasn’t meant to knock them out cold. Still, they were both beyond dizzy, uncontrollably groaning from the piercing squeeze contracting their abdomens.
Not sparing a second, you leaned down and plucked the keys out of Dean’s pocket. “Night night, pretty.”
“Did you really have to do that?” Your sister whined, boots stomping on the pavement as she trailed behind you back to Baby. “All we needed was his wallet!”
But even with her fussing, you sister quickly scurried into the passenger side. Heart drumming through her ears as she watched Sam doubled over in pain.
You cackled with unbridled glee. Flipping the keys around your pointer as you slid into the driver’s seat. “You need more whimsy, bug. Bit of a flourish here and there ain’t gonna kill you.”
“But it could kill them!”
Casually, you leaned out the car window, peering over at both brothers still groaning on the ground. Dean’s eyes caught your own, still keeled over from the stomach pain, and you smirked—far more supicious and fox-like than he’d realized.
“They’ll live.”
Through a groan, Dean barked out, “I’m gonna find you, bitch!”
You mockingly laughed as the engine fired up. “Oh I hope so, pretty boy.”
Baby’s tires smoked as they peeled away from the motel, high tailing it to the interstate.
Now, in the pervading silence, all that was left was the two of them double over and stupidly moaning in pain. The infamous Winchester boys, brought down by a pretty smile and a perfectly placed trap.
Sam choked on a cough, “Dean, we—jesus—we need’a call Bobby.” A fist coming up to nudge Dean’s shoulder.
Thankfully, you hadn’t been so cruel as to take all their belongings. Still, when Dean messily fished out his wallet and phone with shaking hands, even he was stunned to find them both there. The leather was definitely lighter, all of the cash swiftly slipped from the folds—but everything else was there, even the credits cards.
You could’ve robbed them blind and they’d have no way to follow you for hours. So why not?
In a more sane and less poison-full state, Dean would wonder what the hell that was about.
Dumbly, Dean continued groaning on the ground. Fumbling with the buttons as he dialed Bobby’s number.
He grunted in relief when the receiver immediately clicked. Barely letting a second go by before he was grumbling out through gritted teeth, “Bobby, we need’a ride—frickin hell.”
Notes: I giggled uncontrollably writing the last bit, hoping y'all like it!! ;p
guys I love coming up with lil nicknames for reader in each of my different series. I genuinely remember the moment I figured out how to incorporate Honey!reader into my John Tucker series and I literally jumped out of the shower to grab my phone to write it down. just had an identical moment while finishing part 1 of my Dean Winchester series so I'm PUMPED rn
yk a lot of people write jack abbot as being very distant going into relationships. bordering on commitment issues depending on the fics. and i think a lot of that comes from people trying to play into him being a widow or even just age gap dynamics. which honestly is an entirely valid take.
but why are we not leaning into the fact that we KNOW jack does not like to be alone. we know he needs to keep moving and stay busy to function. that he comes in early and stays late to keep from being alone. that he has an entire second job to fill the gaps between shifts. that he fills the silence in his house with the noise of a police scanner in case he’s needed.
what about jack who’s the one to be all in first? and comes on too strong. and has a tendency to be too much. what about jack who has to teach himself to slow down to remind himself that his relationship isn’t an escape from himself?
Dean Winchester x reader (soulmate!au) || Mini-series summary + sneak peek
"Don't Fear the Reaper"
By the time you’d turned ten, you knew more about hunting demons than playing dolls. Yet eight years ago, you thought you'd successfully left that life behind. Even allowing yourself to hope you could be one of those lucky bastards who might stumble upon their soulmate in time. Just maybe you’d earned that fairytale ending. But when your older brother is killed, you scrap that pipe dream and come home to pick up the pieces. Now, you and your little sister Stacy hunt together—far from your father's grasp.
Being two young women, constantly on the road and fighting for your life, it's shit. It's nothing you want for Stacy, and you’re willing to do anything to get her the fairytale she deserves. Any means. Any cost. For your baby sister, nothing is too far.
You’ve got a countdown now. One year. Till what? That’s nobody’s business.
But on a random summer night, you stumble upon two dipshits you haven’t seen since your fathers teamed up in the 80s. Being the nerds they are, Sam and Stacy instantly click—and being the stubborn bitches you two are, Dean and you are at each other’s throats.
You don’t need new friends. You don’t need a distraction. All you need is Stacy and to get through this year.
When the bunch of you are forced to work on a case together, it throws a couple wrenches in your plan. Namely, the fact there’s a birthmark on Dean Winchester’s chest. It’s match? Hiding right beneath the fabric of your bra...and he’s got no fucking clue.
Happy Hunting XO
“So…college?”
You barely looked up from the notebook. “Need me to define it?”
“Just wondering—“
“Don’t hurt yourself, pretty boy—”
“Let me ask my damn question.”
Cheeks still lifted in a smug smirk, you mimed zipping your lips.
“Jesus,” Dean sighed, finally understanding how exasperated Sam got with his own bullshit. “I just was thinking, why not, I don’t know, stay out?”
“Of hunting? Things happen, I guess .”
Sure you shrugged, slouching back further into the couch—but Dean saw it. Gaze flicking to the subtle tensing of your jaw as you avoided his eye contact.
Both of his brows lifted instantly. “Really?”
You narrowed your eyes at his, hating the way he could read you already—probably cause it was like watching himself spat a well rehearsed lie. “Drop it, Dean.”
“Seems like Stacy would be more than cool with it, why not?”
Once again, your molars ground painfully against each other. Seconds away from biting your own tongue off to not spill the truth. “I just...I just can’t.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Sounding a lot like me, sweetheart— and I gotta say, it gets real annoying when hunters act like it’s all they got—“
“Fucking Christ, Dean!” Fist slamming the water bottle on the table. “I. Can’t.”
Your eyes lanced him to the bed, the finality to your tone more than just the self-sabotaging hunter bull-crap. It was like you were stating more than a fact, something firmly set in place and inevitably the future. In their line of work, Dean knew nothing good came from that. Nothing was for certain in this life—and if it was, then you payed dearly to make it so.
Dean sat up carefully on the bed, watching through his brows as you bit your fingernails till the fresh polish began chipping once more.
“Spit it out.”
Your lips curled in indignation, still avoiding his eyes. “Fuck you, Dean.”
“You look like you’re about to hurl, sweetheart. Just rip the damn bandaid off.”
Again, your mouth twitched in rage. Nostrils flaring as you matched his challenging stare. Dean saw behind it though, to the sheer terror fogging your eyes.
His own expression softened. Tone unrelenting but calmer. “It’s me you’re talking to, probably done worse.”
The visible squeeze of your throat made his stomach drop clear through his ass.
Well, shit.
Notes: This'll be around Season 1-2 bc I mourn for the early Supernatural era like a sailor's wife; canon divergence obvi. Almost done with editing part 1, so it should be out soon!
see, if there was condition that made men's hair fall out, retain stubborn weight, and cause extreme fatigue--OH WAIT *goes down a rabbit hole of the immense bio-identical testosterone industry for middle aged men*
...everyday I find something new to bring up in my gender studies class, EVERY DAMN DAY
Question for other writers, do you guys also have a song that makes you immediately lock in for the series/story you’re writing??
Like obviously for my Jack Abbott series it’s “I’m On Fire” by Bruce Springsteen, and for my Off Campus series it’s “Sue Me” or “Bed On Fire”, and then I’ve got one for the romance novel I’m writing
Genuinely if I don’t listen to those songs right before I write, I feel like I’m not in the headspace of that story, especially if I’m flipping between writing different stories at the time
guys if I post a sneak peek of my new series, is it okay if I do an obnoxiously long summary AND the scene snippet??? Or should I separate them into two posts?
When Pitt Fest goes horribly wrong, PTMC is sent into a panic. Better yet, they're down one senior resident. As always, Charge Nurse Dana has a trick up her sleeve. Her niece, Dr. Caroline Evans, is an emergency medicine doctor back in Boston—but she just happens to be visiting for a while. Dr. Evans swoops in to help the Pitt Crew, a carbon copy of her aunt, and as expected, everyone takes a shine to her. Dr. Abbot, however, is in deep shit. He finds himself staring just a bit too long, finding her mouth too sharp and wit too quick. Then he does the most reckless thing he could've possibly done—he gives her a way to stay.
Caroline, on the other hand, is running from something. She hasn't told a single soul, not even her nosy aunt. Instead, she's in Pittsburgh under the guise of a little "break." But when you're running from life, you tend to do stupid things, like flirt with the stupidly attractive attending, or even sign on to work with said ungodly rugged attending.
But hey, how bad could it be?
Relationships: (slowburn) Jack Abbot x Evans!OC, Dana Evans x Niece!OC
Tags/Warnings: Slowwwwburn, age gap relationship (30s vs 40s), BANTER (not a real warning but just so much of it), slightly different timelines to the show (nothin crazy), medical inaccuracies (I'm so sorry), discussions of DV/emotional abuse, discussions of stalking, ANGST! Comfort! Fluff! -> PLUS specific warnings on each chapter <3
there are insane summer showers where I live rn, absolutely lashing and it’s so hauntingly foggy out—y’all know what that means…Dean Winchester fic loading up
…also I swear I’m working on I’m On Fire, I’m in a rut with it and it’s taking some time cause I’m handling her with love
