supernatural, the boys, yellowjackets (will open up more as I get more motivation) check characters to see who I write for in these tv shows!!
about me. goose ☆ jackles lover ☆ afab ☆ writer ☆ bot maker ☆ social anxiety disorder ☆ kill them with kindness ☆ loves to chat, just very bad at it ☆ nerd ☆ aquarius ☆ book lover ☆ bilingual ☆ music lover ☆ intj ☆ secretly dexter morgan
I write platonic and romantic requests for all genders! I’ve been preferring platonic as of lately but I still write for romantic relationships.
This isn’t really too big of a worry because I’m not sure if I’ll be going back to writing 18+ works but I don’t check your age if you interact (I’m just lazy) so if for some reason I decide to write smut again, just be aware what you are reading.
Smut requests are CLOSED INDEFINITELY
Hyperfixation: sᴜᴘᴇʀɴᴀᴛᴜʀᴀʟ & ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏs
!ℵ ℘Ի✺❡Իḙṧṧ:
Dad!dean x daughter!reader angst
Winchester!reader angst
c.ai bots (3/10 waiting to be released)
+more
ᚢᛜᛏᛊ ᛏᛜ ᛖᛜᛜᛏᛇ
this is not my main acc so i can’t follow you from this account, im not just being an ass! im too lazy to message all of you to say that. i actually follow all of my moots on my other acc but i like being mysterious so im keeping that account to myself for a little bit longer (guys pls don’t hate me i actually interact w all yall amazing people 🫶)
hello! I’m sure it is a surprise to be hearing from me again after a full year of going MIA, but I decided now was probably time to give an explanation to what happened. trigger warning for mentions of depression
A year ago, I had an extreme depressive episode. I kinda caught it coming on and my intro post to my mini series, Hey Jude, mentioned that I could tell something was about to happen. But I truly expected to get through the mini series before anything happened. Obviously that didn’t go down like I hoped. But I made the decision to be inpatient for personal reasons. Even after being discharged, I was experiencing crazy burn out. I couldn’t even look at this blog for a few months.
At this point of my life, I don’t really have any motivation to write. Not to say I’m deleting this account! I love this page so much and I want to write again, it’s just not going to be happening in the current moment. I’m honestly just doing my best to crawl my way to graduation.
I also want to give a special thanks to everyone who sent me messages, sending words of encouragement and support despite having no idea why I disappeared off the face of the earth. I was nervous to check my inbox for quite a bit; my brain was being irrational and made me believe they’d be hate or annoyance about my mini series not being out yet. It warmed my heart when I finally read them all. I’m so grateful to you all 🫶
I’ll be lurking around this blog and making some changes here and there but I’m not ready to post anything yet. My inbox will be open if you want to test your luck and send in requests but unless they catch my eye, I doubt I’d do them. I do love hearing all of your ideas though. Or my inbox is open if you just wanna chat! (I also won’t be making any new bots after finding out about the harms of ai.) I might find motivation considering a new season of The Boys drops tomorrow and it’s one of my favorite shows, but I’m definitely not trying to give false hope!
When will you share the sequel to 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐁? I'm curious about that!
I actually didn’t expect people to want a sequel to that so I hadn’t originally planned on one 😓 But I am planning on posting a mini bot drop soon so I’ll add that bot on! I’m glad you’re interested 🫶🫶
“A cold? A freakin’ cold, Sammy, seriously?” Your brother looks over at you, his eyes an irritated red. “You got a cold? We thought you were dying!”
“Yeah ‘cause you overreact, Dean.” You say into another cough. You can’t even raise your voice, your throat’s too scratchy and if anything, you just wanna lay down in your bed.
But your brothers came back from a hunt yesterday to find you sick in your bed and freaked the hell out immediately. They even called Rowena and it took her a day to come here and make fun of them.
“Oh, god. That’s just awful, dear.” She sighs, doing something to your arm that the boys can’t see with her body in the way. “Oh no no no,” she tsks. Sam’s leg bounces harder and Dean stands up quickly.
“Is she okay? Is she?”
“Oh no, Dear. It’s bad. Really bad.” She turns around, a thermometer in her hand. “She has a fever of 98, I’m afraid she might not make it.”
If the slumping of their back against the couch and sighs of relief aren’t proof enough how better they feel, the fact that they thanked Rowena is. Well, Sam did. Dean glared at her.
“Seriously? You can’t play around when it comes to her.”
“I expect this brute behavior from him,” she points to your older brother, “but you, Sam? You’re more logical than to jump to conclusions.”
He usually is. But not when it comes to you, neither of them are. Sam brushes her question off and just sits next you on the bed, a hand caressing your hair.
His hand’s still in your hair as Dean yells. You know he’s only worried and that it comes out as anger— as do most of his emotions— but you’re too tired to care.
Sam sits by your bedside the entire time, at your beck and call. Dean gets medicine and force-feeds it to you. He makes soup and he finds a hotel with heaters. Sam does the necessary stuff and Dean’s helping you in ways you didn’t even think of.
It doesn’t take long, you’re a hunter after all, till your temp’s back to 97 and only have a slight sore throat. But both brothers are relentless in their care for you.
Dean was going to go crazy, he was sure of it. How could he not after what just happened? If he knew you were going to act dumb, he would have never brought you along in the first place.
He was the protector, the soldier, the guard dog. Not you. You’re his little sister, the same girl he’d hold at night because you couldn’t fall asleep, the same girl who would cry every time he left for a hunt with John. You were not his protector. You were supposed to stay back at the bunker and be safe.
But then Sam got sick and you wanted to take his place. Dean could remember laughing at that before he realized you were serious and suddenly he wasn’t laughing anymore. But you wore him down after hours of back and forth. You wanted to go on a hunt for once instead of being stuck at a motel or the bunker.
Though this wasn’t what you had in mind.
You weren’t sitting in a diner eating apple pie and listening to Dean admit he underestimated you after a successful hunt—just like you imagined would happen—instead, the two of you were in the impala, Dean deathly silent. The only sound was the deep rumble of the impala as he drove dangerously fast back home.
Despite his obvious anger, his hand was pressing delicately on the small rag around your hand, slowing down the bleeding so he could stitch it up for you once back at the bunker. You could see his eyes flicker over at you every few minutes, like he needed to check that you were actually alive. That he wasn’t imagining all of this. The image of you throwing yourself in front of him, shielding him from the bloodthirsty vampire hellbent on attacking him was still burning a hole in his brain. He couldn’t shake it, no matter how much as he tried.
“What you did,” he finally started, slicing through the intense silence with his gruff voice, “never fucking again, got it? If you ever want to come on a hunt again, you’re gonna start prioritizing yourself over everyone else, including me. It’s not your job to watch over me, understood?”
𝑐𝑜𝑛𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑢𝑒 ➛ 𝑐.𝑎𝑖 𝑝𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝘩𝑒𝑟𝑒!
hi lovelies! this isn’t the prologue to Hey Jude, but i am currently working on it right now and i’m so excited for when i get it pushed out. i’ve had this in my drafts for a while and felt like it would be time to post it! don’t be afraid to lmk if the bot acts off!
She won’t be one specific age throughout the whole series. It’ll be linear as the chapters go on! In the prologue she’ll be extremely young because it’s setting up the dynamic, while in chapter three she’ll be a teen. (But I don’t specify her exact age by then so the reader can pick how old she’d be!) 🫶
Hello beautiful! How are you? I know you're most likely busy IRL but I wanted to ask you if for dean’s daughter in HEY JUDE has an already birthday established? Because if not, I was wondering if you would consider February 29 as bby’s birthday 👉🏼👈🏼 my bday is in May, and I love being a Taurus, but I also would loved having a "rare" bday date, but ofc it's up to you, it was kinda of a suggestion only 😘
Hi there lovely! Definitely feeling better whenever I get to respond to asks 🫶
I actually hadn’t had a birthday for her but I really like the idea of her having a rare birthday! She’s already pretty special so having her birthday be the rarest one would be perfect for her (plus I have the perfect way to implement this into the plot oh my goodness)
Requested: not, no one asked for this, I just felt like writing it. And you guys seemed enthusiastic with that poll so here it is.
Synopsis: you, Sam, and Dean have some things to get used to with him back as a human.
Part 1 is here
Warnings: abuse, addiction, anxiety, reader likes Taylor Swift
Sam was worried.
In the days after you detoxed from demon blood, he had been relieved that you didn’t seem to be afraid of Dean, even after everything he’d done as a demon. Neither you nor Dean would speak about what had happened in those weeks, so Sam had to be content to let things be forgotten. But something about the way you’d been tagging behind Dean at all times was…not normal.
He wondered if Dean saw it too, although he suspected that Dean was so relieved you didn’t hate him that he didn’t notice.
He was wrong; Dean knew exactly why you never left his side.
“Stay close, and don’t try anything. I taught you all of your tricks, so we both know you won’t get away with it.” It was the first time you had been unchained since Dean took you from the bunker, so you decided not to argue with him for now.
It had been four days of the same suffocating motel room, with only Dean and Crowley to keep you company the few times they’d stumbled in, so even the sight of a dingy bar was welcome to you.
Other than Crowley, the whole thing felt almost normal—Dean drinking and trying to pick up the bartender with cheesy pickup lines. If you didn’t currently have demon blood pumping through your veins and cuts on your wrists from where your big brother chained you up, you could almost forget he was a demon.
In fact, it was so normal that you got a little too comfortable. You quickly bored of watching Dean flirt, and you found yourself wandering over to the nearest pool table. You hadn’t even set up the balls yet when a vice grip on your arm froze you.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean spat out through gritted teeth.
“Playing pool.” You scoffed at your older brother, not quite realizing that you were pushing at his fragile nerves. “You’re hurting my arm, let go.”
“I don’t think you’re getting something here, little sister.” Dean drew himself up to his full height, and you suddenly realized just how very small you were. “This isn’t playtime. You don’t get to run around wherever you want anymore, understand? I’m in charge now, and you’re going to do exactly what I say, or I’ll make you regret the day you were born. Now I told you to stay close, and I meant it.”
You opened your mouth to fight—you may be forced to ride along, you may even be forced to drink demon blood, but you weren’t his lapdog, and you wouldn’t be treated like one—but the words died in your throat when you looked up and your eyes were met with black orbs.
Dean wasn’t just Dean anymore. He was capable of…
Of—you didn’t even want to know what.
“I’ll make you regret the day you were born.” Dean’s words echoed in your head. He was just trying to scare you, obviously. Dean…Dean would never hurt you.
Dean turned on his heel and returned to the bar, and you found yourself following. Until you knew exactly what this black-eyed Dean was capable of, it was safer to do what he said. For now.
“That’s what I thought,” Dean grumbled, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out his flask. “Drink.”
“But…people…” you glanced around, wary of the other patrons.
Something hard suddenly collided with the side of your face, and the metallic taste of blood followed a sharp pain in your lip. You blinked once, twice, trying to make sense of what just happened. The flask was still in front of your face, only now there was the dark red of your blood staining the side of it.
“I said drink,” Dean growled.
Your bleeding lower lip quivered for a second before dropping open, and Dean tilted the flask up, pouring its contents into your mouth while your distracted mind whirled.
He hadn’t meant to do that, right? Dean had never—never—hurt you. He was just lifting the flask, and your face got in the way. He hadn’t hit you with it—he wouldn’t.
It was just an accident, you told yourself.
The twisted grin on Dean’s face said otherwise.
“Hey, thanks.” Dean’s happy tone caught Sam’s attention, and he looked up to see you handing Dean a sandwich. That was something else—you seemed to be anticipating Dean’s wants or needs and getting ahead of them, like there was some weird telepathic link between the two of you.
You were standing at Dean’s side now, staring at him like you were waiting for something.
“You need something?” It was Sam who spoke up, not Dean.
“N…no.” You took a half-step back from Dean and stared at your shoes like you’d been caught doing something wrong. Sam had no idea what to make of it.
But Dean did.
…
Dean hadn’t even noticed you lingering at his side until Sam questioned you. He turned to look, and he caught your expectant expression for half a second before it dropped, and you were stepping away from Dean.
“N…no,” you mumbled to Sam, looking uncharacteristically guilty.
Dean felt like a rock was lodged in the pit of his stomach. The sandwich, the lingering, the guilt…
It was evidence of a pathway in your mind that Dean had meticulously paved as a demon—give him what he wanted, and nothing bad would happen—and it made him sick to his stomach.
Even now, he watched your hands shaking and knew your subconscious was screaming for blood—because he’d trained you to expect reward.
“Did you clean the guns?” Dean asked you, desperate for a change of topic to ease the tension in the room. You often cleaned the weapons after a hunt, since the brothers rarely let you after the monsters, and it gave you something to do. However, Dean instantly regretted asking when all the color drained from your face.
“I—um—I forgot.” Your hands were fidgeting, and your eyes wouldn’t leave your shoes. “I’m sorry De, I can—I’ll go do it right now. I didn’t mean to—“
“Hey, you ok?” Dean hadn’t noticed Sam crossing the room until he was in front of you, trying to get you to meet his eye as he spoke.
You weren’t ok, and Dean knew why.
Dean had been getting annoyed with Crowley lately. His demons were always under foot, and Dean wanted to teach him a lesson. When one of the demons got a little too close and comfortable, Dean decided to act.
“I want you to exorcise that one,” he muttered to you.
You lifted your head, locking your eyes with the demon he was referring to before looking away quickly.
“De, I’ve never—I don’t know how to—“
“Did I tell you to ask questions?” Dean snapped. Your protests stopped.
“No sir.”
“Good. You know how to do it, you saw Sam do it, and you’ve got demon blood. Now do it.”
You swallowed hard, returning your gaze to the demon whose attention was now elsewhere. Your hand twitched as you focused, the blood pulsing in your veins as pain shot through your head. You winced, feeling hot blood dripping down your nose as you concentrated.
The demon started to cough and gag, black smoke coming out of his mouth. But he didn’t leave his vessel.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Dean mumbled, watching the demon carefully. His eyes switched to you when you gasped in exhaustion, collapsing back into the counter as your strength gave out.
“I can’t,” you whimpered. “I’m sorry—“
Dean didn’t stay to listen.
“I’ll deal with this myself,” he growled, and in two strides he was near the demon, letting his fists loose on him in a firestorm of rage.
You watched in silent horror for as long as you were able, but when the demon’s face was unrecognizable in the carnage and he was sobbing and begging for mercy, you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Dean, stop it!” You ran to your brother, but he didn’t give you so much as a glance or a grunt. “Dean, that’s enough!” You grabbed your brother’s arm as he wound up to swing again.
It happened in a flash, and you were flat on your back before you even began to feel the sting on your face. You took a deep breath as your brother continued his attack on the demon, trying to replay the last few seconds in your mind.
Dean hadn’t meant to do that, surely. He was just swinging back to hit the demon, and you’d gotten in the way. He hadn’t slapped you—so hard that you could practically feel your face turning black and blue—on purpose, right?
Of course not. Dean wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose.
Dean shoved the demon to the ground; he was done. His attention turned to you, but when he saw your pathetic form, battered and barely able to get off the floor, his gaze didn’t soften. He didn’t ask if you were ok, he didn’t apologize for accidentally hitting you.
Instead, his harsh grip yanked you to your feet by the arm, and your back was against the counter before you’d registered that he shoved you.
A cry of surprise and pain escaped your lips when Dean backhanded you across the face.
“Don’t ever tell me what to do again,” Dean growled. “And next time I give you an order, I expect you to do it.”
That hadn’t been an accident. There was no confusing it for anything but what it had been—your big brother slapping you across the face because he was angry with you.
But it didn’t feel right; it didn’t feel possible.
You must’ve deserved it, a voice from the back of your mind said. You got in his way, and he can’t let you do it again. He hit you to teach you—he’s teaching you to protect you.
Everything about that thought felt so wrong. But not nearly as wrong as the truth felt.
“Don’t worry about it, ok?” Dean spoke up. “I needed something to do this afternoon anyway, I’ll take care of the guns.”
You went quiet, slowly nodding as you calmed down.
“I need to go get us some supplies,” Sam cut in, his eyes still trained on you. “You wanna come with, kid?”
Dean watched as your gaze shifted to him, a lingering question in your eyes. You were waiting for permission, whether you knew it or not.
“Y/N?” Sam said, and his voice snapped your attention.
“Oh, um…ok.” You seemed to realize you didn’t need permission, but you were still lingering by Dean’s chair, tension clear in your stance.
“Bring me back some beer,” Dean said, and you seemed to relax a little at the permission implied in his statement. “And pie.”
…
You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you walked around the store with him. You knew you were acting weird, but you’d spent so long with demon Dean that you weren’t so sure what normal was anymore.
Following Dean and listening to his orders felt so normal, but now even Dean was giving you those worried looks when he caught you lingering.
“Here.” You blinked when Sam waved a water bottle in front of your face. “You look thirsty.”
You lifted your arm to take it, but the second it was in your hands your grip slackened, the bottle falling as a not-so-distant memory knocked you back on your heels.
“If you can’t do a simple thing I ask, then maybe I don’t need you here.” Dean was chaining your wrists as he spoke—something he hadn’t done for a couple of days, because you’d been obedient. “Now you’re gonna learn about consequences, kiddo. And when this is over, maybe you’ll actually be useful.”
You no longer doubted Dean’s willingness to hurt you, so you were prepared for the worst. But you weren’t prepared for Dean to turn on his heel and walk out the door. Hours went by, and every one that ticked on made you realize that this punishment was worse than Dean hitting you. You were desperate for blood—it felt like your bones were drying out, like your powers were seeping through your skin and taking your energy with them. Your nerves were on fire, and you were shaking by the time night fell, but still Dean didn’t return.
You nearly cried in relief when the door opened, and then again in disappointment when you saw not Dean, but one of Crowley’s henchman. He barely gave you a glance as he crossed the room and opened a suitcase.
Just another lapdog fetching something for his master, you thought bitterly. Not like I’m much better.
“Hey.” You spoke up before you’d even made the decision to do so. “Wait, don’t go.”
“I’m here to get something for the king, not to talk to his pet’s pet,” the demon snapped.
“I get it,” you scoffed, “you think I’m some nobody. Not like you’re exactly in charge.”
The demon started to walk towards the door.
“I can help you!” You said. The demon’s step faltered, so you continued. “I have influence. You may hate my brother, but Crowley listens to him, and Dean listens to me.” Dean didn’t listen to you, but hopefully this demon didn’t know that. “So maybe if you do a little something for me, then I put in a good word for you.”
“Why should I believe you have influence?” The demon argued. “You’re in chains.”
“Freedom and influence aren’t the same thing,” you countered.
“Say I did believe you,” the demon ventured. “What would you want from me?”
“You know I’m jacked up on demon blood,” you said, hardly believing the words coming out of your mouth. Maybe you didn’t need to do this, maybe this was how you could stop, maybe Dean cutting off your supply was a blessing.
Then pain shot through your body, cutting off your argument with a whimper as you curled in on yourself.
“Well…” you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to continue. “Well my big brother’s been a little busy lately, and I need a hit.”
“So…some of my blood.” The demon pulled out his knife and held it to his hand, but he didn’t cut. “How exactly could you influence Crowley?”
“What do you want?” You asked.
“I want to be in charge of the crossroads,” he said.
“I’ll tell him you’re the most powerful demon I’ve ever seen, I’ll tell him whatever you want him to hear. Just help me out.”
“Fine.” The demon grunted as he sliced into his palm, grabbing one of the paper coffee cups off the desk and letting his blood drip into it. You waited in agony as the blood slowly filled the cup, before the demon wiped his hand and held the cup out for you.
The cup hadn’t even touched your lips before the door opened, and your whole body stiffened in terror as Dean strode into the room, Crowley at his heels.
“Hey—what—“ Dean watched the scene for less than a second before he had the First Blade in his grip, his eyes pitch black as he yanked the demon away from you, the blood-filled cup spilling on the carpet.
Dean wasn’t listening. He drove the blade into the demon’s chest, and the demon’s pleading stopped.
“Hey!” Crowley protested. “He was one of my best dealers!”
Dean turned his steel gaze on the king of hell. “He tried to give my sister his blood,” Dean growled. “He got what he deserved.”
“It’s nothing you haven’t done,” Crowley scoffed.
Dean rolled his eyes.
“If you don’t understand the problem, I can’t help you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, and you curled in on yourself.
“De, I-I didn’t—“
“Oh, you did. You think you’re a big girl now, is that it? A big girl with her big girl powers trying to be big enough to get her own supplier, huh?”
“I-it hurt so much, and I—“
“Did you really have to kill him?” Crowley’s interruption had Dean’s fists clenching as he gritted his teeth.
“She has powers,” Dean spat, furious that he had to explain himself. “And while I’m her supplier, her powers are my powers. So yes, I had to kill him—and you’d better hope the rest of your little demons get the message. She’s mine. No one else feeds her, no one else talks to her, no one else looks at her.” Dean’s eyes were back on you, deep pits that had been haunting your nightmares. “But don’t think this means you’ve got power over me, kiddo. If you’d taken even a drop of that guy’s blood, you’d be dead right now. You’re under my control; you eat when I give you food, you get blood when I give it to you. You’re only breathing right now because I allow it. Forget that again, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”
“Alright, you’ve made your point.” Crowley grunted as he dragged the body to the corner of the room.
“Crowley.” Dean’s eyes never left you as he spoke. “Get out. I need to teach my little sister a lesson.”
“Dean—“
“De, don’t,” you interrupted Crowley. “You-you don’t have to do this. You’re still my big brother.”
A cruel glimmer lit up in Dean’s eye as he started to laugh.
“Aww, isn’t that just sweet. But you’re not gettin this, kiddo.” Dean’s hand was at your neck before you’d even seen his arm move. “I’m keeping you around because you’re useful, and honestly I’m having fun with this.” Dean’s fingers were slowly tightening, and when your attempt to breath came up short you whimpered, your eyes shuttering closed as Dean continued. “But the minute you become more trouble than you’re worth, you’re done, you hear me? I’ll throw you away like trash, and not even Sammy’s gonna want you now, all juiced up on demon blood.”
Sammy didn’t want you anymore. Dean didn’t want you either, not really. All he wanted was to use you…
You weren’t wanted. But if all you could be was useful, then maybe you could do more to be of use to Dean, before he got rid of you.
“Now you crossed a line,” Dean continued while Crowley left the room. “And you’re going to regret it.”
You swallowed hard, willing your shaking hands to still. You knew this was going to be bad, but you were going to take it.
And you wouldn’t give him a reason to do it again. You were going to be useful.
“I don’t want it.”
“What? Kid, it’s just water—“ Sam bent down and picked up the bottle, holding it out for you again.
“No!” You slapped it out of his hands before backing away. “I—I won’t, I won’t do it!” You spun on your heel and ran down the aisle, turning and bolting straight for the door. Once you were outside, you slid against the side of the building and dropped to the ground in the alley, pulling your phone from your pocket and pressing Dean’s number.
“Hey, did they have pie—“
“Dean.” You sniffled, your voice shaking before you swallowed hard.
Get it together, you urged yourself.
“Dean, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
“Sorry? Kid, what’s going on?”
“I—I didn’t take it—I’m not—“
You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t think.
He’s gonna beat me again. He’s gonna abandon me.
“Y/N? Hey, you ok?” Sam was next to you now, shaking your shoulder. He took your phone when your grip faltered. “Dean? Yeah, we…we’re coming home. It’s ok.” He hung up, putting his full attention on you. “Honey, what’s going on?”
“No,” you whimpered. “I can’t do it, he doesn’t want me to.”
“Who?” Sam asked. He put his hands on your shoulders. “What are you talking about? Dean? N/N, he’s not a demon anymore. You’re safe, he’s not gonna hurt you.”
You didn’t respond, so Sam lifted you into his arms and carried you to the Impala.
“It’s ok,” he promised. “You’re gonna be ok.”
You didn’t speak the whole way home, but when Sam parked the car and tried to lead you inside, you froze.
“De’s in there,” you mumbled, and Sam couldn’t tell if you were talking to him or yourself—you looked so out of it.
“Yeah,” Sam said. “But it’s just Dean, he’s not gonna hurt you.”
“He can’t—I can’t let him see me,” you sniffled, rubbing at your tear-stained face. “He can’t see me like this.”
You didn’t know that Dean already had; he was standing at the edge of the hallway, watching as Sam tried to coax you further into the bunker.
He knew exactly why you didn’t want him to see you, and it made his heart twist just thinking about it.
It was a few hours after Dean had beat you for the first time. He’d fed you some of his blood after as a “reward” for taking the beating “without being a wimp.” Then he’d left with Crowley again to get more beers, and when he’d returned he was ready to move on to the next town—this one had gotten boring.
“It’s time to go,” he said, reaching up to unchain you. You didn’t fight, but Dean heard a sound that set his teeth on edge; you were sniffling. “Are you crying?” He snapped.
“I’m-I’m ok, just give me a minute,” you pleaded.
Dean stayed eerily silent, watching you. You ducked your head—you knew he’d seen you crying, but you still didn’t want him to watch.
“So this is what you do when I leave.” Dean shook his head. “Is this what you used to do in the bunker too, when you’d hide in your room?” Dean needled you. “What, you think just because you don’t let us see you cry, that makes you tough?” He scoffed, his hand coming up behind your neck and grabbing a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back so you couldn’t hide your tears from him. “You’re still crying like a little brat. So no, I’m not gonna give you a minute. I’m not gonna give you a second—you get it together and stop acting like a baby, or I’m gonna beat the weakness outta you, understand?”
A sob escaped your throat before you could stifle it, but when Dean lifted a hand to hit you, you quickly quieted, wiping your tears away and pursing your lips shut tightly.
“Fine,” Dean grumbled, dropping his hand. “I better never see that again, understand?”
“Yes sir,” you promised, getting to unsteady feet and letting Dean lead the way out of the motel room.
“Why can’t Dean see you kiddo?” Sam asked gently.
“I’m weak.” You were desperately wiping at your eyes, but the tears kept coming. “I’m weak and I’m useless and I can’t be!”
Dean had seen enough.
“No you’re not,” he said, cringing when you jumped in surprise. “You’re not weak. It’s ok, you can—“
“I’m sorry,” you sobbed, backing away from Dean and wiping your sleeve against your face so hard that you were turning red.
“Hey, hey it’s ok.” Dean was in front of you by the time you lowered your sleeve. He raised his hand to wipe away the tears that were still flowing.
Your eyes screwed shut as your shoulders tensed and your whole body flinched. Dean froze, feeling like an ice cube was dropped down his shirt. His hand was shaking as he gently touched it to your face. You flinched again before slowly opening your eyes when you realized he wasn’t hitting you.
“I’m not mad,” Dean said softly. “I’m never gonna hurt you again, ok? I promise.”
You were still crying, so Dean pulled you into his arms. Sam watched helplessly, a sinking feeling in his stomach as he began to realize just how bad your life had been with his demon brother.
“I think we should go for a little drive,” Dean suggested when your whimpers finally faded away. “I’ve got some things to say to you.”
You were shaking like a leaf, but you didn’t say no. Sam just watched as Dean slowly led you out to the Impala, and he couldn’t help but think this was a horrible idea.
…
He’s never coming back. He doesn’t want me anymore. I’m all alone.
Every time Dean left you alone, the worries started. If he decided you were too much extra weight, you’d have nowhere to go and no one that would take you in—no one would want a demon blood addict. Sam would be so ashamed of you.
“Hey!” Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face, and you flinched. “Would you pay attention? I’m back, that means get up and let’s go.”
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, jumping to your feet and grabbing the bag Dean had bought you, which was always packed. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” he grumbled.
“Ah good, you’re still here.” Crowley said after opening the door without knocking. “I think we need to have a little conversation. About her.” Crowley nodded his head in your direction.
“Go ahead,” Dean answered. “She won’t mind.”
Your hands were fidgeting in your sleeves while Crowley rolled his eyes.
“Fine. I’m sick of dragging the kid around. She’s useless—“ he glanced at you— “no offense.”
“I told you already Crowley; she stays with me.”
“She can’t even do anything with that blood you gave her,” Crowley shot back. “Just leave her here for Moose to find. It’s a win-win for everyone.”
Your heart was in your throat, your attention fully on your big brother as he pondered Crowley’s suggestion.
“Dean, I’m—I’m trying. I’ll learn to use my powers, I promise!” Dean didn’t even glance your way, and you started to get frustrated, your anger directing itself as Crowley as you stepped towards him. “You can’t just—“
“Hey.” One of Crowley’s goons—who had trailed in behind the king—stepped in your way, his hand raised like some kind of secret service agent. “Back off.”
“Screw you!” You yelled, raising your hand and screwing your eyes shut in concentration.
For a long, sickening moment, you thought nothing was going to happen.
Then the demon started to scream.
You waited until the screaming stopped to open your eyes. The demon’s vessel was sprawled out on the floor, groaning.
“Hey!” Crowley snapped. “You can’t just—“
But you weren’t listening. You didn’t see anything in the room except for Dean’s proud grin.
“I knew keeping you around was a good idea,” he chuckled, pulling out his flask. “Drink up kid, you earned it.”
All you had to do was be useful, and you’d never be alone.
Was Dean angry? Probably—you hadn’t remembered to clean the guns, and then you’d ditched him to go to the store with Sam, and then you’d cried.
He doesn’t want me anymore. He’s going to kick me out of the car and leave me.
Your heart was beating nearly out of your chest, so loud in your ears that you wondered if Dean heard it. He was silent beside you, even though he’d said he wanted to talk to you, which made you even more sure that he’d brought you out here to leave you.
“We gotta fix this,” Dean said finally.
Fix what? Fix me?
“It can’t keep going like this.”
So he does want to get rid of me.
“You hearing me, kid?” Dean asked.
You didn’t know what to say, so you responded automatically.
“Yes sir.”
“No, I…ok.” Dean sighed, turning the Impala into a near-empty parking lot. “Let’s try this.” He parked the car, then stared at you for a long minute. “You gettin out?”
Your hands were shaking as you glanced out the window, then back at Dean.
This is it. He doesn’t want me anymore. He’s abandoning me.
…
Dean’s hands were tight on the wheel as he drove, the silence beyond awkward. You sat tensely beside Dean the whole car ride, not saying a word. He knew he was still scaring you, but he just didn’t know how to fix it.
“You hearing me, kid?” Dean asked, turning to glance at you.
“Yes sir,” you answered.
Dean’s heart dropped—he really was scaring you.
“No, I…ok.” Dean sighed, pulling into a cafe parking lot. “Let’s try this.” Maybe it was being stuck alone in the Impala that was making you nervous—maybe if he got you around people, you wouldn’t be as scared of him.
He parked, but you still didn’t move—if anything you seemed even more scared and tense.
“You gettin out?” He asked. That was, apparently, the wrong thing to ask, though Dean didn’t understand why.
Your hands were shaking so bad that your sleeves were fluttering, and it looked like you’d stopped breathing.
“I can do better.” Your voice came out barely above a whisper. “Please don’t leave me here, Dean. I’ll do whatever you want, I promise!”
“Hey, whoa, what?” Dean stiffened in his seat. “Leave you—kid, what are you talking about?”
“I-I know I’ve been screwing it up all day, but I’ll do better, I swear!” You pleaded. Dean still had no idea what you were talking about. “Just don’t make me go, please don’t make me.”
“Hey, hey, stop.” Dean reached out and grabbed your hands, trying to ignore the way you flinched. “Stop it. I’m not leaving you here, I just—I’m trying to talk to you.”
“You’re not mad?” You were curled in on yourself, staring up at Dean and looking about 3 feet tall.
“No.” Dean spoke gently, deliberately. “Of course I’m not mad at you. But things have been different since…since everything. And I want to fix it. I don’t want you to look at me like I…”
Like I’m a demon. Like you think I’m gonna hurt you.
You were relaxing, slowly but surely.
“So…so you’re not gonna leave me out here?”
“Why do you keep asking that?” Dean demanded.
“I just…you threatened to do it so many times before…” you weren’t looking at Dean anymore, your eyes trained on your lap. Dean’s heart twisted in his chest, and it took a moment before he was breathing again.
“I was a demon, kid. And that doesn’t make up for any of the crap I said to you—but I don’t feel that way, not for a second. I’d never leave you behind, never.”
You kept babbling on.
“I know I’m not as useful anymore—“
“Hey,” Dean interrupted. “Kid, we talked about this. Don’t you remember?”
“I guess, I just…” you sigh. “I wasn’t sure if…if you meant it, or if you just felt bad.”
“Every word. I meant every word,” Dean assured you. “I know you’re still scared of me, but you don’t have to be. That stuff I did won’t ever happen again, ok?”
“Ok,” you mumbled, but you didn’t sound so convinced.
“How about this.” Dean sighed heavily. “How about…we talk to Sam about what happened. It’s not gonna be fun, but maybe he can help us. He’s about as close to a therapist as the two of us are gonna get, and he keeps us in check. If you start gettin scared, he’ll understand. And if I start being a jerk, he’ll knock me into shape. Sound good?” Dean felt the pain in his chest easing as he watched you become less and less tense.
“Sounds…better than nothing,” You decided.
“Good. Let’s head back then.” Dean started up the Impala and swung the car into a u-turn.
“Hey Dean?”
Dean hummed.
“I’m trying not to be scared of you.”
Dean offered you a faint smile.
“I know kid.” He sat in silence for a minute before a grin lifted his features. “How’s this for not scary?” He reached down under his seat and pulled out a cassette, popping it into the player. “I was gonna give you this on your birthday.”
The opening notes to your favorite Taylor Swift song started playing, and Dean laughed at your shocked expression.
He started to sing along with the tape, but he didn’t get a single word right.
“You’re doing it wrong!” You insisted, smacking Dean on the arm. But you were smiling more than Dean had seen in weeks.
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 john winchester was a lot of things, stern, strict, tough, absent. but that didn’t change your view of your father, he was still good to you. so he was a little hard on dean and sam, but with you? he was different. he took care of you… or tried. and yeah, he wasn’t perfect, but he was there. though so was dean. he was the one who made sure you had food, always watching over you, always steady. but dean wasn’t your father. john was. …except he wasn’t really, now was he?
𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 coming soon…
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 coming soon…
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 coming soon…
𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 coming soon…
𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐒
𝑛𝑜𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑦𝑒𝑡…
asks/requests are open for this au and do not have to revolve around the chapters. they can be standalones!
a/n: i am actually so excited about releasing this and i really hope it turns out good 😭 only thing is while i’ll be trying to post quickly, i have depression and currently going through a rough depressive episode so it might take me a little long… so sorry in advance. taglist for this series is open btw! just lmk if you’d like to be added 🫶
It would definitely be interesting John raising his granddaughter as if it were his daughter 👀, but the real question is: would John be more present to her in her childhood and teenage years than he was for Dean and Sam, OR would it be the same and Dean would be the one practically raising his daughter like his sister as he did for Sam? 🤔
oh anon you don’t know what your getting yourself into mwahaha 😈
i don’t want to spoil too much (but let’s be honest, i’m horrible at keeping things to myself) so i’ll just say… yes? john is still john so dean is definitely doing the heavy lifting of taking care of her but john’s present enough to sink his claws in and have her turn into sort of a daddy’s girl so she won’t feel the need to do that with dean
would anyone be interested in a mini series where the reader is dean’s daughter but was raised under the belief that john was her father? no just me? cool, cool, cool, totally cool with that… 😔
idk like or comment if you’d wanna read it i suppose 🤷♀️
"I'd be the dreadful need in the devotee, that made him turn around"
sam: i can't.
reader: you will. for me.
sam: but, my love...
reader: if not for your own sake, then for mine.
sam: then i will.
eeekk omg i am so so excited to introduce this!!!!! i originally came up with this concept in november last year, and it has sat dormant for a little while until now. i knew i wanted to do something much bigger than just a fic for this, so that's what's happening!
orpheus will be portrayed through sam winchester, and eurydice through reader.
i will be publishing a two-part fic retelling the greek mythology love story of orpheus and eurydice through sam and reader. i will be posting quotes, boards and concepts throughout as well!!
my blog will become very centric to this concept, beginning with the theme change! i love their story so much and i am so excited to finally start working with it!!! <3 <3
when dean starts trying to teach baby to read, she's sitting in between his legs on the motel bed. he's holding her finger to show her the words as he sounds them out OH MY GOD.
"dean, what about this one?"
"no, baby, we gotta focus on this word first, okay?"
and he's soooooo patient and sweet i'm throwing up. then when she finally gets it right "there you go, good job, baby." UGH BURY ME WITH A BOOK OF ALL YOUR BABY!READER x DEAN WRITINGS
( somewhat ) sequel to this because this feels just intimate enough to be after things sort of shift with dean & baby bUUUTTT not yet intimate enough to be when they endgame !! hehehe
you were becoming a hell of a reader. dean and sam had come to a sort of arrangement when it came to you: lore and sam were going to teach you how to write, and dean was going to teach you how to read.
you did not need to know that dean interjected himself into the equation with the intent of wanting more time with you. you also did not need to know that he was a petty, jealous sort of guy who hated that the both of them could see you so vulnerable, too. so he just... minimized their chances of seeing it. whoops.
and dean was just petty enough, too, to take credit for how quickly you were learning. sam said you were getting good, but dean thought you were doing great now.
there wasn't the journal to read anymore, just some of the old lore books that the brothers brought with them wherever they went, and the bible that laid idle in every hotel room's dresser drawer. he doubted that you, some miracle girl that went against all odds of the bible's laws, would want to try and tackle religious text, so instead he was reading you endless supernatural lore.
well. reading it to you was a broad generalization.
"why is there no h in werewolf?" you ask, cutting off his whispered words into your ear for probably the seventh time in ten minutes. like dean said, you were a hell of a reader by now, but that didn't mean he wanted to waste a moment of time with you.
that was why he had his hand overtop of yours, guiding your fingertip underneath the words he sounded out into your ear. his chin was on your shoulder, his other arm wrapped around your waist, as he held you securely between his legs.
"baby," he says with an amused, breathy laugh, "that's three words down from where i am."
"you read slow." dean did read slow. he was milking every moment of your time with him, not wanting it to end.
dean sighs dramatically in your ear, chewing on the corner of his lip to tuck away the grin that threatens his mouth. "i don't read slow," a stone-faced lie, but semantics, right? "you're just skippin' the words you don't know and goin' to the ones you do."
you were silent for a few seconds, which meant he'd checkmated the hell out of you on a complete throwaway excuse. not that he was counting it as a win or anything. dean liked hearing you talk and ramble and be so blatantly, unapologetically yourself.
he drags your finger back to where he was reading from, right underneath the word crescent. you'd liked learning about the lunar cycle in your reading together tonight, but every time they'd come across this word, you'd skipped right over it.
"give it a try." he taps his index finger over yours, his arm tightening around your waist to hold you closer to him, rocking you ever-so-slightly back in forth in his grip.
you huff with all of the fury you can muster, which only makes his heart thaw even more. you were too damn cute for your own good. "that word is unhappy."
"no," he laughs again, tapping on your finger once again, "it's very happy. it's just patiently waiting for you to say it right."
you bare your teeth at the book as if it personally wronged you. dean's eyebrow raises. "want me to say it again for you?"
"yes." all of that ire toward the book is now flipped on him, your head tilting back to look at him again. "i've been waiting."
"okay, little miss princess," dean raises his hand in surrender over your stomach, his grin dimpling in his cheeks, "it's crescent."
your face twists up. "there's a c in there. you are forgetting the c." you learn the alphabet with lore and now you weaponize this knowledge against dean, as if he was the one being taught. "i thought you were supposed to be good at this."
dean shrugs. "i am good at this." he lifts his hand from the book to turn your chin back toward the open pages. "some letters are silent, sometimes. it's just because of how the pronunciations changed over time in history, y'know?"
"i don't know." so damn stubborn and mouthy. "but i believe you." dean revokes the statement right back, all in the same breath. "and... cress-kent sounds silly."
"so that means you say it like..."
you growl this time, baring your teeth at him like an angry, feral cat. "crescent." you push your finger hard into the paper, right beneath the word. "cr-ess-sent. are you happy?"
dean had never been happier in his life.
"good job, baby," he hums, leaning his head down to kiss the side of your forehead. "see? the word's done being unhappy, now, too."
you grumble, "it is still very unhappy."
dean has no plans on arguing with you. he'd let you win, and there was no fun in that anymore. instead, he tugs you closer into his chest, pretending it's so he can see over your shoulder easier, his eyes scanning the page for another example for you.
"say this one." his hand falls on top of yours again, guiding your finger down the page to the word gnaw.
you're so much smarter than any of them give you credit for. he's started to stop doubting and undermining you, just so you could prove him right. dean was a bit whipped, and the excited glee on your face was worth it. every time, you were worth it.
so he's not surprised at all when you piece together the fact that this was another example of a silent letter, based on what you'd talked about. under your breath, he hears you whispering the letter pronunciations to yourself, working it all out in your head like a problem to be solved.
"gnaw? like naw?" you ask, your eyes softer now, a lot less confused and frustrated and a lot more hopeful.
he'd kiss you right now, if he could. if he let himself. but dean didn't want to take away from the blinding glow that lights up in your eyes at his nod. he should say something, shouldn't he? good job, you're doing great, you're so beautiful when you smile. the words don't come out.
instead, he leans down to kiss the side of your temple again, lingering there this time. "now you try readin' to me this time."
any excuse to watch your mouth without question, and he was going to take it.
notes. daHLiA WHen ARe theY goINg To KISs IDK!!!! IF U HAVE IDEAS PLSSSSS TELL ME I'M JUST STRETCHING THEIR ENDGAME SO HARD
