brat ! dean knows exactly how to piss you off, and he does it well. he’s perfected his craft: doing it in stages, just to see how far he can take it before you’ve finally had enough and will put him back in his place. he’s almost giddy once you start in on him—like he’s been waiting for you to take what you want from him all day.
plus, he’s a fucking menace. once the floodgates opened, once you realized what he’d been hinting at after you’d been together for a while, he’s been downright insufferable to work with. he mouths off, sasses you, and purposely flirts with witnesses and cops just to see what you’ll do. if you’d make a scene about it. and he does it with a shit-eating grin.
but you know the truth: dean wants you in control. he wants you driving, steering the ship. because for so long, he’s had to be the one calling all the shots, worrying about everything and everyone else except himself. so he pisses you off and gets you riled up so he can turn his brain off to nothing except listening to you.
if that wasn’t the worst part, he gets needy. he’ll practically hump you like a dog in heat if he’s thinking about you and within 2 feet of you. no shame or hesitation. he’ll feel you up anytime, anywhere. he’ll beg for a quickie in the bathroom or for you to suck him off while sitting in the impala. if he’s not near you, he’ll send pictures of his dick in his hand and beg you to call him so you can tell him what to do. but as much as he begs, he won’t actually, truly do anything until you give him the green light, like the good boy he is.
because he’ll do anything to get you to boss him around.
ok but imagine spoiled/brat soldier boy 👀 i just KNOW he has tantrums and needs a brat tamer
-🦇anon (i also sent the chubby dean ask hiii)
❝ 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒𝐀𝐂𝐊. ❞
𐃘 minors do not interact !
📨 well hello my dear 🦇 anon! first off, thank you for the chubby dean ask + also thank you for this one heh. now, did i have to look up the definition of what you were referring to… yes. and have i ever written for soldier boy before… no. so hopefully i did your thoughts justice <3
TO EVERYONE ELSE, SOLDIER BOY WAS A FORCE OF NATURE, OR JUST AN ASSHLOLE. a tornado of swear words, smoke from his joint, the scent of alcohol and misogyny. always annoyed at everything, grumpy beyond belief. and while most of that was true, you knew ben on a deeper level.
you also knew he was a 100% grade-a brat.
spoiled his entire career—well deserved, based on his home life—but his fame has most definitely gotten to his head. it’s made him self-absorbed, and also simultaneously the most i-don’t-give-a-fuck person on the planet.
you figure out very quickly once you two start… well, whatever this is with soldier boy that he’s a little brat. he teases you and sasses you, pushes your buttons he knows drives you up the wall. he knows what pisses you off, and does it anyway. not because he thinks he can get away with it—but because he wants you to do something about it.
so you do.
tonight, it was particularly worse. a mission that went right, but not because ben was making it easy for the team. they blamed him, and ben wasn’t taking it lightly. he was throwing a tantrum, and now you had to deal with it, because the boys certainly wouldn’t. you knew most of them resented you, from how close you were to him. it should make you feel ashamed.
it doesn’t.
he’s been mouthing off to you ever since he got back and slamming things around. testing you, seeing how much it took to push you over the edge—and while it should make you want to explode or even be scared of him, you know exactly what his true intentions are.
or rather, you know what he needs.
ben’s stewing on the couch, arms crossed over his chest after his last comment he’d grunted at you. the tv’s not on anymore—since ben threw his bottle of whiskey at it after he couldn’t figure out how to get to netflix. so now he has no tv and no whiskey.
you’d changed so you were wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts. does it fit right? no, but ben’s mind goes haywire when he sees you in his clothes. just like now: he does a double take as you approach him, blinking at you like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
you tilt you head at him before getting into his lap, straddling his legs as he’s sitting on the couch. ben’s hands half raise up to meet your body, hesitating ever so slightly before his warm big palms find your waist.
“you haven’t been being very nice to me,” you murmur softly as you look down at him.
“well, ‘m not exactly a very nice person, doll,” ben mutters back.
“that’s true,” you nod, hands going to his shoulders. “but what do nice soldiers get?”
ben sighs dramatically, then grumbles reluctantly: “…their dick wet. but you’ll give it to me either way, won’tchya?” he adds, devilishly smirking up at you.
you just look back down at him, ever so patient. he can sass you off all he wants—but you both know how this ends.
ben’s hands are wandering now—always taking whatever he wants and expecting no consequences. you’ve slowly but surely been domesticating him.
it shows in moments like these. ben could easily take what he wants from you forcefully. he’s much stronger and faster. but he doesn’t. he wants you to take from him, in a way. make him be at your mercy. maybe he just doesn’t like being the strongest one all the time. maybe he wants someone else in control of him.
either way, you’ll happily oblige.
it’s a long night of teasing and push and pull ahead of you. you know how it’ll end: you and ben stuck together. tangled sheets, sweat, the smells of you and him combined into one. you’ll be absolutely covered in him by the time he’s through—because of course his supe powers make him a machine that can’t stop coming inside you and on you.
he’s calmed down now. just ben, not soldier boy—because you picked him apart and peeled back all the layers that hide the real him. you only see it when he has meltdowns like this. you’ll probably have to burn the entire bed set you have by the time you’re through, like you’ve done before. but 2 things remains certain.
1) that is it’s going to happen all over again tomorrow.
2) you wouldn’t have it any other way.
📨 wasn’t sure who to tag, since this isn’t a dean fic! i finally broke out of my only-writes-for-supernatural shell 🤭 anything for jackles hehe.
i’ve been good! i finally moved into my new place this week + i’m settling in before i start work again rip. i’m building a set of drawers from ikea tonight while watching supernatural yayay! my dream night tbh 🤭 how about you my love? what’ve you been up to? <3
hii, would you ever be interested in making a fluff or nsfw alphabet for dean?
heyy! yes i would! upon some pondering more, i was thinking doing half and half: first half of the alphabet being nsfw and second half of alphabet being fluff. or i might do a full nsfw / full fluff if the inspiration strikes! lemme know if you want one more than the other, i’m down for anything <3
who are your favorite jensen characters besides dean? are you fan of any other shows/movies he's in? <3
hey babe!
well, i’m not gonna larp. i’ve only seen jensen in a few shows other than spn: the boys, tracker, and countdown. so i’d say soldier boy, russell shaw, and mark meachum are my favorite jensen characters so far! just look at ‘em all down there. so yummy.
i want to get into big sky and i want to watch 10 inch hero + some of his other movies at some point, but i haven’t found the time 🫠 i say even though i’m on my 3rd rewatch of supernatural... whoops. i’d be down to write for them too, just. no ideas. sigh. dean’s got me in a chokehold. thanks for asking <3
thoughts on tubby/chunky dean?👀 since he is a foodie?
MANY. some say that dean winchester has a beautiful, gorgeous set of glazed donut-like rock hard abs. and while it could be true, i say otherwise—especially for retired/older dean.
⤷ 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐁𝐁𝐘 ! 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒. ⊹ ࣪ ˖
part 10 of @bejeweledinterludes’ headcanons series.
dean’s always been a foodie. making all the wrong choices, as ‘healthy people’ would say, because what’s a triple burger with extra onions and a large side of fries gonna hurt if he dies tomorrow? who cares, food’s good. it’s probably the only thing that’s never let him down. plus, it’s the one good thing about living on the road: trying new places and foods all over the country. every state, every town’s got something to offer. why not take advantage?
he gets chubbier as he gets older & after he retires. he’s been pretty tapered off most of his life when it comes to his weight, but once he’s done hunting, once there’s no more creatures that go bump in the night—and once he’s truly safe from the career that almost killed him? he lets himself fill out more, in his tummy and chest.
he’s still hard in most places—especially one place in particular, wink wink— but softness has creeped into his skin, too. and of course he’s gained a few pounds over the years, but now that he’s not extenuating himself for the hunt every hour of every day, it’s more noticeable.
not that you mind—because you’ve noticed that his thighs have filled out too… and they make a great spot to sit. not that his lap wasn’t your favorite throne before—that couldn’t be more untrue. but now, it feels more cushiony. more dean.
which also means dean’s a great pillow. i must reiterate, it’s not that laying on him was uncomfortable in any sense before, and it’s not like you didn’t love him before, that would be crazy. yet the new plushness of his body makes you somehow more obsessed with him than ever. his chest, while still broad, still muscular—now just has a little more stuffing. and you don’t mind that one bit.
“hey, y’know what’a ‘dad bod’ is?” he asks you one day out of the blue with a frown, but an under that veil was fear. like you’d somehow come to your senses as you looked at him and leave him. like you could ever do that.
so of course, like everything many things, dean gets insecure about it. he curls in on himself and thinks you’ll leave him for someone else, someone more fit and who doesn’t get winded when he picks you up off your feet. but you’re not having that. you love dean, just dean, and no one else.
besides, you like the new look (a lot more than dean thinks).
⧽ DEAN’S HAPPY TRAIL & TUMMY, PART II. MDNI. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꕀ
for my dear @ethearepity <3 ∿ read part one ?
“FUCKIN’— GODDAMN,” DEAN GROANS YOUR NAME, tossing his head back but still attempts to look down at you at the same time, like he’s torn between the two choices. “y’gotta— f—”
you hum around him, sending a vibration through what felt like his entire body. dean gasps in a breath like it’s his last one when your nose grazes at the hair on soft skin of his tummy. he can feel the wind-up of his release creeping in everywhere since he’s been holding it off for what feels like forever.
so how’d you get here? long story short, your dream came true. finally.
of course, dean’s a specimen in every aspect, but something about his lower torso: his soft stomach but firm in certain spots, his happy trail, and the legend you knew that was in his pants made your head all light and filled with want. usually, you wouldn’t give anyone a second glance. but dean was different. and you don’t delve too deep into your own feelings as to why that is. that’s a rabbit hole for later.
he’d been shy, like you thought he would. poor guy, you thought. shivering like a baby bird in the cold as you touched him, like you would somehow hurt him. it made your heart ache. he got flustered when you put your hands on his stomach and hips, watching his reaction as you did so. he tensed up almost immediately again, like he was bracing himself for you to make fun of him.
but you didn’t.
you just touched him, looked at him with all your care and love while you ran your fingers over his hair on his stomach. just like you’re doing now, too—only this time, it’s as you suck like there’s no tomorrow. if he didn’t believe you then, you’re going to make him a believer by the end of the night.
dean lets out another broken sound, his hand tightening where it’s placed behind your head, a sure warning of what’s going to shortly happen if you don’t stop your ministrations.
but you don’t stop. in fact, you speed up—and dean thinks he’s died and finally reached the so-called paradise everybody says is waiting for him at the end of his life. he’s been trying to prolong his release, but in reality, he’s been about ready to bust his load since you got down on your knees for him. for him. it’s like he fell into one of his own dreams, because there’s no way this is real.
but it is.
he wants to say something. he’s not sure what he could muster up, since his entire train of thought is focused on what you’re doing to him. dean looks back down at you again, taking a mental screenshot of you like this, with your eyes a little watery, for later—then tips his head back as he lets himself go.
he’s loud. he’s not trying to hide it, for once. you wouldn’t make fun of him for being too vocal or making too much noise. you didn’t look at him in disgust when he took his shirt off, either. dean was sure you’d run for the hills—he’s built, sure, but he doesn’t have a 6-pack. you can see lines where his abs are, but it doesn’t look like a bag of dinner rolls, how dean thinks he’s supposed to look. it’s just skin, mostly, and nothing else.
but maybe, dean thinks as you swallow everything he gives you, maybe it’s not that bad. sure, he’s no bodybuilder, but he’s still got some looks. you told him so—and you’re showing it right now. so dean calls that a win. him: 1, finally, and the universe: infinity.
thanks to you, he’s finally on the scoreboard.
📨 woo hoo i am finally back on the smut train! choo choo all aboard the dean winchester express 🚂
› dean winchester × eldest daughter hunter ! reader
caution ! this package contains · heavy themes & angst. minors do not interact.
♫ ࣪ ˖‧₊˚. ı ꕀ 1 , 291 words ı masterlist
・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・
THE FIRST TIME YOU MEET DEAN WINCHESTER, YOU WANT TO KILL HIM.
you want to shoot the stupid smug smirk off his face, want to crack his jaw that moves with every pass of shameless flirting with anything that he seems to come across.
because he’s an idiot. a manchild that can’t take his one goddamn job-that’s-not-a-job seriously—but somehow, is able to wow everyone with his rugged charm. it’s infuriating, knowing how hard you worked to get to this point—yet dean has skated by this entire time on pure luck alone.
if that wasn’t the worst part, he’s so fucking arrogant in everything he does. he thinks he’s always right, and never lets anyone else have a say. not you, not even his own brother. you’d known your entire life that men like him are dangerous, and being around someone like that only puts you in harms way. yet, you still helped him and sam on a case, because bobby asked you to.
and dean knows you want to kill him. because he feels the same way about you, with your self-righteous crap. he’s supposed to be the one making decisions, keeping everybody safe—and you just had to come in with your own ideas. even if they were better than his, dean wasn’t having it. you’re too uptight, too complicated for him. he doesn’t want to figure you out—because figuring you out would unlock something he would figure out about himself, too.
but you’re as stubborn as he is, so it’s impossible to try and reach a resolution. you are an unstoppable force, he is an immovable object. you clash together like oil and water sometimes, yet are the perfect blend under certain circumstances. most of the time though, you keep your distance.
but you don’t know.
you don’t know how terrified dean is of loving someone. how overwhelmed it makes him to think about love. honestly, he’s unsure if he ever has loved someone—but he still wants to experience it, despite the fear he feels so deep in his bones.
and it seems like you’re taking him under, regardless. something about you pulls him in—something about the way you seem to know everything, the way you’re able to make quick, controlled, and logical decisions, ones that despite giving you the short end of the stick seem to be the best option.
he notices, obviously: your tendency to shove your own needs down into a little ball for the greater good. he notices, because dean himself does it too. how everything and everyone is put before your own feelings. he recognizes it, and feels like he knows you on such a deeper level because of it.
and though you won’t ever admit it, he does know you.
yet, apple pie life, the girl, the white picket fence—it’s not in the cards for him. he’s tried and failed. it’s like the universe, or god, or whoever is pulling the strings to puppeteer his and sam’s life wants him to be miserable and alone. dean has begged for help from someone, anyone—and yet was met with nothing. he is only helped when it benefits the greater good.
and dean is not the greater good.
but dean doesn’t know.
dean doesn’t know he’s taken up so much of your mind. your usual defenses are useless against him—because they’re the same as dean’s. you are less tough in certain areas where he is, and vice versa. like a devastating puzzle piece. it should make you want to hit the road and never speak to him again, how you barely seem to get along. but it doesn’t.
because you have grown to… ugh. care about him.
even sam’s noticed, the way you two look at each other. you both never look while the other is watching—like you’d both be smited on the spot for stealing a glance, for wanting the other. for wanting something that only benefitted yourself instead of someone else, instead of the greater good.
but you do. and dean’s been feeling it, too. it’s getting harder to pretend you don’t like him, so you just stop pretending, after a while. you don’t linger on how it feels like you’re being simultaneously corrupted and fixed in the same breath, whenever you’re around dean. you are rougher where dean is softer, and softer where dean is rougher. it’s strange, almost like you’re puzzle pieces.
and it scares the hell out of both of you.
for dean, it’s the feeling of not being in control. dean has to be in control, otherwise, he might die. but you come into the picture, and suddenly, he’s a lot more okay with you taking up his every thought. he’s willing to let things slide, because something about you ceases his defenses.
for you, it’s feeling like you’re being cheated, as your feelings grow. that some day, dean will be the same as the men you’ve heard horror stories about. the same as the men who will eat you up and spit you back out, leaving you to die. dean hasn’t done that yet. it feels like you’re waiting for the ball to drop, but it never comes.
it all comes to a head one night.
it always felt like you were being stretched too thin, but tonight was especially the worst. you felt less than present, in your own body. of course, you told no one about these trepidations that you had. that wasn’t how you grew up, and you sure as hell weren’t about to start doing it now. you gave up on sleep after tossing around your bed for an hour, deciding to brave the kitchen to see what you could distract yourself with.
you open your door, and almost walk right into dean. he’s just… standing there, in the doorway. you wonder how long he’s been standing there, or if he just got here. either way, you’re shocked to see him this late at night. it’s not like you haven’t been noticing the bags under his eyes. he has them all the time now, including as he stands in front of you.
and you know what he’s here for. he feels comfortable enough with you to even be here—and you don’t take that for granted.
so you step aside, and let him in.
dean doesn’t say anything. neither do you. and you’re not even sure what you’d say, anyway. there’s no words you could possibly comfort him with, because you know better than anyone how he feels. so you don’t bother.
you lay back down in bed, midnight snack forgotten as dean sinks into your sheets. he faces you, but looks embarrassed. like he’s corrupted himself by coming here. like he’s corrupted you. and yet, he’s still laying next to you. still looking at you, despite the urge to run away.
and you’re looking back at him, too, despite your gut’s reaction to hide away. it’s a different reaction than usual—like you know the outcome, but you don’t care, or don’t think it’ll happen with dean here instead of someone else.
it’s a weird thought, and you don’t know how to process it right now. it’s like you’re not who you used to be, but instead, it’s who you’ve been all along. the parts of you that used to just peek out once in a while are now on full display. and you can’t seem to care.
you hold dean to your chest, his face pressed between your breasts. you’re sure he would’ve made a joke about that, but he didn’t. he just breathes you in, his arms you always used to stare at when he wasn’t looking wrapping around you tighter. he needs you, you realize.
i had some thoughts. this is loosely inspired by deans dream in s3 ep10 because it's honestly devastating, like can he be loved genuinely?
I would love to need to see dean with a partner who is just so undeniably sweet and loving.
caring for the people around her is like second nature.
making sure the brothers eat enough when they're hours into research, a simple head pat or a hug for a greeting, all those things come so easily to her, but they make his brain short circuit.
she's open and unwavering about her feelings, reminding him again and again how much she loves him. making sure he knows how easy it is for her to love him. making sure he knows that he matters.
dean probably wouldn't be able tp wrap his head around how he got so lucky, that she chose to be with him despite all the struggles and danger it involves.
she treats him with such genuine kindness and warmth, he still has a hard time accepting that this is actually his reality.
and despite still being unsure about whether or not he deserves this treatment, for once he is going to be selfish and let himself drown in the way her hands cradle his head, or the way her fingers trace the muscles and scars on his back, or her reassuring words lulling him to sleep
I tried organizing my thoughts as best as I could, basically I just want to see him happy and loved🫠 is that too much to ask
📨 oh hello my dear massage anon! apologies for the delay, i actually rewatched s3 ep10 for this. first off, thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, it was so beautiful to read. send your thoughts in any time or please tag me if you ever decide to expand on this <3 i also want to see dean happy and loved. like. it’s a necessity. dean get behind us so we can protect you from the writers of spn. augh just look at him :(
IN YOUR TIME KNOWING DEAN, IT WAS CLEAR THAT he thought very little about himself. almost nothing, actually. whether it was his own self-deprecation or a monster tossing his own thoughts back into his face, it was obvious—at least to you. so you made it your mission when you got together to try and convince dean otherwise, and love him as much as possible.
not like it was hard. dean was like a sponge: he soaked up all your love until he seemed to overflow, despite the fact that it felt like drowning sometimes. it wasn’t anything you did wrong, but it just felt overwhelming once in a while, being loved so fiercely and gently, when dean has experienced everything but that in his life.
you seemed to be very in-touch with your emotions and with your love. you cared deeply about sam and dean, and you showed it: in your actions, your words, your everything. but especially dean. you told him you loved him all the time—and you made sure he knows that he’s worth loving, too. that he means something not just to you, but to the world itself.
it might’ve started with you making a snack for the brothers. they were deep in research at bobby’s. you brought sam celery and dean a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and dean almost exploded when you set the plate down in front of him. but he couldn’t, since his brother was across the table from him, mowing down on the celery you brought him. you knew sam would want something healthy, but dean would want something comforting if he was going to eat. you just knew, without asking either of them.
dean opened his mouth, about to say that he wasn’t hungry—but upon a second of hesitation, he realized he was. so he closed his mouth, gave you a closed-lipped smile. you smiled back, ruffling his hair—and it was like the sun was shining on him. he damn near melted into the floor.
on the other hand, maybe it’s just the touching. you touch dean so often, like second nature, and he hopes he’ll never get used to it. he hopes he’ll cherish every head pat, hand on his shoulder, arm linked around his own, and kiss on his cheeks and on the top of his head like he has been since you walked into his life. it’s enough to drive him insane, but strangely, he’s alright with it.
you touch him all the time. dean loves laying on top of you, letting your hands wander all over his back. he’s even started sleeping shirtless again, something he never thought he’d do, just so your fingers and his skin aren’t separated anymore. the feel of your hands on him makes his brain fuzzy in the best possible way. especially when your hands find their way to his hair. you rake your fingers through it slowly, until dean’s a pile of mush against you. and you hold him close, even when you sleep. like you subconsciously wanted him there. like you actually loved him.
you love him like it’s easier than breathing. like you didn’t care about his fuckups, his worst mistakes and his deepest regrets. it was so freeing, but at the same time, dean feels like it’s a dream. like tomorrow when he wakes up, you’ll be gone. like he conjured you up himself in his mind, just for him, and the rug will be pulled out from under him.
it’s hard, because dean’s never had something to call his own. not really. his car was his dad’s before his, plus even his own thoughts might be mirrored to his dad, too. he shares everything else with his brother. not that he minds. it’s just the truth. plain facts. he’s never had something, someone all to himself, just for him—until you.
then you came along, and suddenly, everything made sense. you love him, more than anything. just for him. you don’t ask him to be anything else, other than who he is. and you always say how much you love him: a simple “love ya” before you go to the store, or a full-fledged “i love you so much, dean” on the hard days. you remind him, so he never forgets. he can’t say it as much as you do—and he’s not sure why. given time, he’ll get there, but not yet.
for now, he’ll take your love. even though deep down, he thinks he doesn’t deserve it, he’s going to take it. take something for himself for once, with no regrets. you love him for all this scars, all his mistakes—and dean knows that something like that cannot be taken lightly. he’s not sure any woman he’s been with has loved him. not as true and as strong as you do. so he doesn’t take you or your love for granted. not ever.
dean may not believe in himself just yet, but he believes in you, and in your idea of him. believes that one day, he’ll be the man you see looking back at you.
and dean believes that someday, he could be that man.
WAIIIIT have you also listened to "Be Like A Woman" by chris rainbow? THAT SONGGG???? ITSS REALLY GOOOODDD!!!! Have you also listened to itttt???? OMG BTW YOUR DEAN FICS ARE TO DIE FOOOORRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR❤️❤️
yes i have !!! be like a woman is one of my faves, i love me some yacht rock. was actually thinking about writing a fic based off of that song so maybe this is my sign hmm. and thank you so much for your kind words! glad you like ‘em <3
IT’S HONESTLY BARELY EVEN A TRAIL AT ALL, come to think of it. the first time you saw it was just a peek when his shirt rode up: it looked like just a little line of hair right above his belt. nothing crazy. it wasn’t that much hair, yet it seemed strange to see it, since you thought he didn’t have one at all. dean has no hair on his chest, so it seemed like a viable conclusion to make. but you were wrong. you dumbass, you think. of course dean’s got hair down there. you were just trying to keep your thoughts PG. but not anymore.
the next time you see it again, you feel a strange urge to touch it. to touch him. it was the first thought that came to mind, and it would not leave once it arrived. you wondered how it felt, if he’d get all shy about it when you touched him down there. you think he would—he seems to blush like a schoolgirl whenever you say anything remotely nice to him or smile at him.
now, dean wasn’t fat by any means, but he had the tiniest bit of tummy. you liked him that way. you imagine putting your mouth down there, along with your hands. maybe he’d get all flustered, try and hide away from your gaze. you find yourself wondering if he was insecure about it, like most things about himself. you’re sure that he is. maybe you could help him fix that. maybe you could tell him you like him no matter what. he’d probably make a joke about having a beer belly, but you’d just shake your head. you wouldn’t make fun of him. you’d love him just the way he is.
but it’s just a thought you have. just a dream. for now, at least.
I was wondering, if your reqs are open, if I could request Dean x insomniac!reader and they lowkey bond over the fact they’ve both been parentified af growing up?
(I’m sorry if that’s an uncomfortable topic, please feel free to ignore this if you don’t want to do it!!! I’ve just been babysitting for my mom all summer whenever my siblings are at her house. I’m a third parent at this rate. I start university this fall and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna lose my sanity if summer doesn’t end soon lol)
. . . 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐀 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌. ♫ ⋆.˚
YOU STAY UP LATE BECAUSE it means you have more time to yourself—but in your younger days, you didn’t have much alone time at all. always on alert, never sleeping too hard in case someone woke up and needed you. yes, it’s debilitating as the years go on. but you can’t seem to break the habits and the decisions that have made your life.
tonight is one of the many nights when you cannot sleep. at least not for long. sometimes, you can’t fall asleep at all—sometimes, you fall asleep, then wake up, and stay up. most nights, your eyes open well before the sun’s gracing the sky, and they don’t shut again.
you’re sitting in bobby’s kinda sorta living room slash war room, watching your favorite show. the one you’ve watched a million times and already know what happens, but you still watch it. it’s on low volume, so you don’t wake up bobby or sam and dean—the subtitles on, too.
you’re in the middle of an episode, nursing your glass when you hear a creak of the wood floor. you look up and see dean standing by the archway, looking a little sheepish.
“how long have you been standing there?” you ask.
dean looks around, shrugging. “jus’ got here.”
you don’t really believe him, but you’re too tired to call him out—so you just nod, look back to the tv. you’ve been in a weird funk the past few weeks. you’ve think you’ve been hiding it well, but dean knows there’s something going on.
so that’s why he walks to where you’re sitting and sits next to you—and you get about 30 seconds of just watching the show before dean starts talking.
“so, uh. why’re you up, anyway.” dean asks, and you look at him again.
“well, i… kinda got insomnia.” you avert your eyes again.
“what is that, like the flu?” dean inquires.
“no, it’s a sleep thing,” you explain, shifting a little. you haven’t said the words out loud in a long time, but it feels okay to when it’s dean you’re talking to. “it just means i have trouble sleeping. it started when i was younger.”
“oh,” dean nods, processing. “yeah, i didn’t get t’sleep much when i was a kid, either. was too busy watchin’ sammy, or… what the hell ever i needed t’do. y’know. whatever i had t’do to keep things runnin’.”
and let’s just say the similarities between yours and his outweigh the differences.
“yeah,” you nod, leaning back. “and it’s, uh… it never goes away.”
“nope,” dean echoes in agreement, then pauses. “…old habits die hard, i guess.”
truly, they do. for you, it’s the staying up. not for yourself, but for all the time you missed when you had to stay up late for someone else. you felt miserable, but you couldn’t really stop—and you can’t seem to now, either. it’s a vicious cycle.
and of course, you knew dean would understand. sure, he hasn’t downright actually told you much, or anything, really, about when he was young—but through the shards self-deprecating jokes he makes and mutters about his father once in a blue moon, you’ve pieced together a mosaic yourself on dean’s childhood.
so of course he understood, probably more than anyone. he raised sam while still being a kid himself. there had to have been and will be sleepless nights. you’re shocked he didn’t have some sort of sleep disorder himself, to be honest. maybe he did.
“but hey, we got… tv,” dean starts, gesturing to the tv. “and good company. sure beats damn near all of the nights of no sleep i’ve had.”
“that’s true,” you agree with a small smile, nodding once more.
“yeah. let’s see, uh…” dean trails off as he reaches over, grabs the unlabeled bottle and holds it up. “t’good company.”
you raise your glass. “to good company,” then take a sip.
dean swallows, looks at the bottle, then up at you, deadpanning. “seriously. this is just water.”
you shrug. “surprised i even found any, in this house.”
“i’ll say,” dean snorts, shakes his head.
and it is there you stay, until the faint light of dawn approaches—sitting with dean, watching tv. talking—not too much about your not so child-like childhoods, since dean is a clam and won’t budge on most things, but he lets you rant about things, lets you get some weight off your chest about things that have been sitting for far too long. dean feels a little strange to not be drinking something, but it was nice. nice to be with you, to see a side most never see.
not that he would ever say that to your face—but the thought has to count for something, right?
📨 hello dear anon, or perhaps should i say insomnia anon. is that allowed? can i call you that? well anyway lowkey think i may also suffer from insomnia but. that’s a later problem for another time. i hope i did your request justice. and don’t worry, you’re almost there. august starts saturday. so close. and i, too, am getting very very antsy to get back to school. hopefully this eased your troubles a little. sorry about your mom </3
any tips you would give to someone who wants to start a writing blog? what gives you motivation?
hello lovely anon! i hope this helps you out, let me know if you have any other questions <3
𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒 & 𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒. ꕀ
────── tips.
𝟎𝟏 write what YOU want.
i’ve said this before on here, but write what you want to see !!! if you’re not seeing fics with plots you like, take it upon yourself to write them; that’s actually how i started out on here. if an idea pops in your head, just see where it takes you when you start writing.
𝟎𝟐 no ai / stealing.
whatever you do, please don’t use ai to write or steal someone else’s fics. that’s not cool + it’s really frowned upon in fandom spaces. 👎
𝟎𝟑 write wherever, whenever!
biggest mistake i made: trying to make a specific time work for writing. don’t wait for a “perfect” time to write. i used to try back when i first started out, and there really was never a specific few hours out of my day where i could just sit and write. so just write whenever you can!
i used to use my notes app and google docs, but i have since upgraded to ellipsus. it’s super user-friendly, there’s no membership fees / subscription (for the original version) + uses no ai! one of my greatest discoveries since becoming a writer.
𝟎𝟒 find your niche.
do you like writing headcanons? full-fledged fics? a series? maybe moodboards? test out certain things and see what speaks to you!
────── motivations.
𝟎𝟏 my dear friends / mutuals <3
literally every time i see “____ (mutuals) liked your post” on my fics i do a skip and a jump with glee. dead serious.
shouting out specifically my partner in crime, k (@aseafullofstars) <3 when i say none of my fics would ever see the light of day if not for this man, I MEAN IT. he’s always been there for me whenever i hit a road block in and forces encourages me to write. pictures of his cats also motivate me too hehe. <3
𝟎𝟐 you guys ! <3
seeing the appreciation and love i get for my works is a HUGE motivator. not in a “# of notes / likes i get” sense, but when people leave comments with feedback or reblog and have something nice / funny in the tags. literally the best feeling, knowing someone actually enjoyed what i wrote, then took time out of their day to say something about it 🥹
𝟎𝟑 mr. dean winchester himself.
this man is always on my mind so he’s never too far when i want to write about him LMFAO. i am also on my… 3rd (? i think) rewatch of supernatural, so ideas from episodes really inspire me, too. so maybe just consuming the media you’re going to be writing about. yeah.
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