So I'm not sure if it's a fic of yours...or something you might know...I haven't been on Tumblr in a loooong while. I'm looking for a fic that was a Jensen/Reader multi-chapter series. He was a carpenter (or something like it with his sister on a TV show) and the reader was a photographer. I think they meet when she goes to photograph him for promotional pics. She starts out living with roommates and then ends up moving in with him...I hope you can help! I'm desperate to finish this fic!
This doesn't sound familiar to me. Anyone know this fic??
Request: Heyyyyoooo! Could you maybe do a dean x reader where she’s always been the rock in the relationship, even tho he’s not that emotional either, but she’s just literally never upset or seems sad, but one day she has a nightmare and then that just kind of starts the ball rolling and she just kinda finally needs dean and he’s there and comforts her?
Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2428
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“We’ll be home in about an hour,” Dean’s tired, flat voice tumbled through your phone speaker.
“Hunt didn’t go well, I take it?”
“We got the ghost,” he sighed heavily. “But not before it got some more kids.”
Years and years of being just too late definitely took a toll on hunters. Dean grew up in the life, so it was his normal. But even though he constantly said it wasn’t a big deal, or he was used to it, you knew it was a lie. He needed his downtime. He needed comfort. And beyond his need for that reassurance, he deserved it.
“I’m so sorry, babe.” It was so hard to hear him so down when you couldn’t hold him. “How’s Sam doing? Think you can convince him to take the weekend off and not look for another hunt?”
There was a low murmur on the other end of the call while Dean spoke with Sam. A moment later, you were put on speakerphone, the background noise of the car becoming louder.
“How’s your leg?” Sam asked.
“I think it’s almost all the way healed. If you keep your laptop shut for the weekend, I should be able to come on the next hunt.”
Sam chuckled. “Fine, fine. Radio silent weekend.”
With that out of the way, you said your farewells and hung up.
Your leg was perfectly fine. The fracture was healed and you’d been working out on it for the last few days while the boys finished up a two week long hunting spree across the country. But using your leg as an excuse gave Dean the space to not feel like this break was because of him. He hated being the reason you all took a few days off. He hated feeling like the weak link.
So you let him think he was doing this for you, when in all actuality, you would be spending the weekend building him back up, getting his confidence and mental strength back to their normal levels.
*****
“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, his voice echoing across the warehouse. After cutting down the Djinn’s victim, you transferred her to Sam’s arms before setting off in search of your boyfriend.
The Djinn had gotten away and all three of you were feeling the disappointment and failure. But after the last few hunts had gone awry, you knew that Dean was teetering on the edge. Hell, you all were, but he took it particularly hard. He always felt responsible for everything that went wrong. And when everything went wrong for a solid four weeks in a row? Well… nothing you could say to him would be heard over the spearing self-hatred that was surely chorusing in his head right now.
“Babe?” It was probably best to announce your presence before touching him. You knew he wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, and you could definitely handle yourself, but you’d rather not have to dodge his pent up swing and add that to his guilt that he nearly hit his girlfriend. “Hey, Dean. C’mere.”
He shook his head, hand pressed against the wall, head hung low. “He got away, Y/N. I had him right here.”
“We’ll get him, Dean.” Padding over softly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. It didn’t matter that his shirt was damp with sweat. It didn’t matter that you had blood spattered on your cheek. All that mattered was that Dean knew that you were there for him. “Maybe not tonight, but we’ll get him.”
You could hear Sam talking softly to the two victims you’d saved, but chose to stay with Dean. Sam knew what he was doing. You and he had a lot in common when it came to dealing with failure. And right now, Sam had a job, so he would be able to make it until he was alone, or until the three of you collapsed in the hotel room.
Dean however…
His breathing was slowing and heartbeat quieting under your ear. When he took one, last deep breath and straightened out, you loosened your hold around him, but didn’t let go. As soon as Dean turned around, you hugged him close again, breathing a sigh of relief when his arms surrounded you and his nose nudged into your hair, breathing deeply.
He was going to be okay.
*****
“I’m sure it’s just a cold,” you said through a stuffy nose, buried in blankets on your bed. “You two go. I’ll be fine for the weekend.”
Dean took a step forward and you held up your hand to ward him off. You didn’t want him getting sick too. “I don’t mind staying here with you, Y/N.”
“And leave Sam alone? Last time you did that, he ended up taking off for a few days to see some author read her book for hours on end. The kid needs you, Dean. Who else will pull him from his geeky ways?”
“I think my sick girlfriend needs me too.”
“All that’d do is get you sick too. I’ll just take it easy for a few days, watch some Netflix, take some baths, eat some soup… I appreciate it, Dean. But I don’t want you to get sick.”
He sighed, giving in. “Alright. Fine. But I’m gonna be checking in so often it’ll feel like I never left.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As he came closer, you knew it was pointless to try to get him to stay away. He wouldn’t leave without a kiss, even if it was just on the forehead. And, to be honest, you wouldn’t want him too. Looking up into his shining eyes, you gave him a weak smile. “Love you, Dean.”
“Love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”
You watched as he closed the door behind him before you sank back down into the pillows. It wasn’t even half an hour later that your chills turned to shakes and you barely made it to the toilet before upheaving the light breakfast you’d been nibbling on. With your head in the toilet bowl, you didn’t hear the squeal of the garage door opening or the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. It was the fingers on your head, pulling your hair back from your face that would have made you jump if you’d had the energy.
“Dean?”
“I’m here, babe.”
“What about—”
“Sam called Charlie. She’ll meet him down in Georgia. I couldn’t leave my best girl alone while she was sick, so I just ran into town for a quick supply run.” Once he had all of your hair in a messy bun in his hand, he settled onto the floor next to you. “And I don’t want to hear anything about me getting sick.”
“’m glad you’re here.” Getting through a cold alone wasn’t a big deal. But when it suddenly became the flu?
The porcelain of the toilet was cold against your cheek; a stark contrast to the heat in your cheek. For nearly fifteen minutes, you sat there on the floor with Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. When you puked all you had left to puke, you sat back against the wall with a sheen of sweat across your forehead. “Why can I keep fighting after literally getting shot in the leg, but a stupid virus knocks me out?”
Dean chuckled beside you, reaching up to fill a cup with water. “As badass as you are, sweetheart, you’re still human. Here, swish and spit.”
Just the slight movement it took to sit up and spit into the toilet upset your fragile equilibrium and triggered more dry heaving.
It was going to be a long few days.
*****
“Dean! Over there!” you shouted, pointing at the ghost that appeared behind Sam, who immediately dropped so Dean could shoot the phantom with rock salt.
Once the ghost disappeared momentarily, Sam resumed digging the grave. The pile of dirt seemed to grow and grow and grow, but the hole didn’t get any deeper. “Sam, hurry up!!”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” he gritted out, throwing another shovel of dirt on the pile that was now nearly as tall as him.
Three small kids ran out from behind the dirt pile just as your breaths started coming out in cloudy puffs. It seemed like your body was paralyzed. You tried to run to the kids, but couldn’t move as the ghost advanced on them instead. Desperate, you called out to Dean, trying to get him to shoot rock salt at the ghost for a brief reprieve.
But he didn’t respond.
“Dean!” You tried calling out again, again receiving no response.
The tell-tale sound of a shovel hitting a casket pulled you from your paralysis and you found that you could move again. Hinges creaked and you looked down in the hole that seemed to be a mile deep as Sam opened the casket. “Toss me the fuel and salt, Y/N!”
The fuel… the fuel… where the hell is the fuel? You looked all around you for the duffle bag that you swore was right next to you just moments ago only to see a patch of grass. The green grass shriveled into dusty brown specks before your eyes.
“Y/N!” Sam’s shout came again, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the grass particles that were carried away by the wind.
Suddenly, the three kids were right in front of you. Blood dripped down their faces and they spoke in concert: “You didn’t save us. Why didn’t you save us, Y/N?”
“No… no!” Backing away from the awful scene, you tripped and fell backwards, arms reeling as the grave Sam had just dug stretched into a seemingly never-ending fun house mirror effect. Children’s faces watched you from behind the mirrors, angry frowns morphing into chilling grins, damning you for your failures. Their deaths were on you. Further and further you fell, some unknown force pulling you towards purgatory.
Then you were standing in an old motel room. You gasped for air, doubling over. Equilibrium should have returned, but it was as if you were on a merry-go-round and the world wouldn’t stop tilting.
“Y/N.” Dean’s voice normally grounded you. But now? His deep rasp reached into your body and gripped your throat. Your air supply was cut off so suddenly that you couldn’t even gasp for breath. Those green eyes you loved so much glared daggers at you. “They died because of you. It’s all your fault.”
*****
“Stop it!” You shouted, waking yourself.
Dean’s head shot up from where he was bent over a laptop on the desk. “Whoa, Y/N.” As your chest heaved, struggling for breath, Dean hurried over. He immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Baby, you’re okay. It was just a dream.”
You shook your head. “No, no it’s–” You cut yourself off and forced a deep breath in. Sure, the events were a dream, but the words? They were true. They were true, and they caught up to you. You’d spent so long shoving aside reality and focusing on the brothers and what they needed. What Dean needed.
Dean.
He didn’t need to deal with this. As soon as you could, you would fortify yourself again and push it all away. You’d be back to good again.
Another deep breath and you shook your head again, this time to clear your mind. “Just a dream,” you whispered, repeating his words. “Just a dream.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Just a dream.”
You focused on Dean’s hand moving over your arm, drawing comfort from the familiar action. When you felt calm enough, you looked up at Dean, intending to thank him. But he took one look at your eyes and his brow furrowed.
“Sweetheart?”
“It was just a dream, Dean. I’m fine. I just… It’s the life, right?”
Calloused fingers trailed down your cheek and Dean brought his forehead to hers. “Sure, sweetheart. But that doesn’t mean nightmares don’t get to us.”
“They don’t get to you,” you whispered.
He sighed, breath disturbing the air between them. “Baby, they do. But I’ve got you. I get to wake up next to you and I remember that whatever the hell I’ve gone through and whatever I’ve fucked up in my life, somehow I’ve managed to do something right enough that you love me.”
“I do love you,” you murmured.
“Whatever your nightmare was about, whatever was said… Baby that’s not real. I love you. And that’s fucking real.”
For a long moment you sat in silence, just taking in the warmth and affection from Dean. Then you cracked a timid smile, taking the first step out of the tailspin that the dream had sent you into. “Since when do you say such pretty words, Dean Winchester?”
“Since the day I fell in love with you. And every damn day that I get to stand by your side and hold your hand and feel how much you love me.” His thumb traced over your cheek bone, drawing your eyes to his. “I don’t need to know the details about your dream. But if I can manage to deserve someone as amazing as you in my life after the shit I’ve done, then you sure as hell deserve sainthood just for putting up with me, not to mention for all of the people you’ve saved.”
“I didn’t save them all, Dean.” Your eyes fell from his as the kids’ faces from your dream flickered across the sheets in front of you.
“Baby, we couldn’t save them all. We tried every damn thing we could. Sometimes, it just isn’t possible.” Dean brushed his lips across your cheek. “You taught me that. Guess it was past time that you got that reminder, huh?”
You gave in and leaned against him, physically and mentally. “Pretty words from a pretty face. How did I get so lucky to have such a great boyfriend?”
“You think I’m pretty?” He smiled. “Cause I think those pretty words came from your pretty face first, sweetheart.”
His nose nudged yours moments before a soft kiss was brushed across your lips like a paintbrush feathering a sunset onto a canvas. The rumble of thunder in Dean’s voice settled you like a comforting weighted blanket. “‘sides, sweetheart… you saved me the moment I met you. If you can save a bastard like me, anything that tells you that you failed can shove it.”
Eyes shining, you fell into his eyes. “We saved each other, Dean.”
Request: Heyyyyoooo! Could you maybe do a dean x reader where she’s always been the rock in the relationship, even tho he’s not that emotional either, but she’s just literally never upset or seems sad, but one day she has a nightmare and then that just kind of starts the ball rolling and she just kinda finally needs dean and he’s there and comforts her?
Dean x Reader
Word Count: 2428
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“We’ll be home in about an hour,” Dean’s tired, flat voice tumbled through your phone speaker.
“Hunt didn’t go well, I take it?”
“We got the ghost,” he sighed heavily. “But not before it got some more kids.”
Years and years of being just too late definitely took a toll on hunters. Dean grew up in the life, so it was his normal. But even though he constantly said it wasn’t a big deal, or he was used to it, you knew it was a lie. He needed his downtime. He needed comfort. And beyond his need for that reassurance, he deserved it.
“I’m so sorry, babe.” It was so hard to hear him so down when you couldn’t hold him. “How’s Sam doing? Think you can convince him to take the weekend off and not look for another hunt?”
There was a low murmur on the other end of the call while Dean spoke with Sam. A moment later, you were put on speakerphone, the background noise of the car becoming louder.
“How’s your leg?” Sam asked.
“I think it’s almost all the way healed. If you keep your laptop shut for the weekend, I should be able to come on the next hunt.”
Sam chuckled. “Fine, fine. Radio silent weekend.”
With that out of the way, you said your farewells and hung up.
Your leg was perfectly fine. The fracture was healed and you’d been working out on it for the last few days while the boys finished up a two week long hunting spree across the country. But using your leg as an excuse gave Dean the space to not feel like this break was because of him. He hated being the reason you all took a few days off. He hated feeling like the weak link.
So you let him think he was doing this for you, when in all actuality, you would be spending the weekend building him back up, getting his confidence and mental strength back to their normal levels.
*****
“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, his voice echoing across the warehouse. After cutting down the Djinn’s victim, you transferred her to Sam’s arms before setting off in search of your boyfriend.
The Djinn had gotten away and all three of you were feeling the disappointment and failure. But after the last few hunts had gone awry, you knew that Dean was teetering on the edge. Hell, you all were, but he took it particularly hard. He always felt responsible for everything that went wrong. And when everything went wrong for a solid four weeks in a row? Well… nothing you could say to him would be heard over the spearing self-hatred that was surely chorusing in his head right now.
“Babe?” It was probably best to announce your presence before touching him. You knew he wouldn’t ever hurt you on purpose, and you could definitely handle yourself, but you’d rather not have to dodge his pent up swing and add that to his guilt that he nearly hit his girlfriend. “Hey, Dean. C’mere.”
He shook his head, hand pressed against the wall, head hung low. “He got away, Y/N. I had him right here.”
“We’ll get him, Dean.” Padding over softly, you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek between his shoulder blades. It didn’t matter that his shirt was damp with sweat. It didn’t matter that you had blood spattered on your cheek. All that mattered was that Dean knew that you were there for him. “Maybe not tonight, but we’ll get him.”
You could hear Sam talking softly to the two victims you’d saved, but chose to stay with Dean. Sam knew what he was doing. You and he had a lot in common when it came to dealing with failure. And right now, Sam had a job, so he would be able to make it until he was alone, or until the three of you collapsed in the hotel room.
Dean however…
His breathing was slowing and heartbeat quieting under your ear. When he took one, last deep breath and straightened out, you loosened your hold around him, but didn’t let go. As soon as Dean turned around, you hugged him close again, breathing a sigh of relief when his arms surrounded you and his nose nudged into your hair, breathing deeply.
He was going to be okay.
*****
“I’m sure it’s just a cold,” you said through a stuffy nose, buried in blankets on your bed. “You two go. I’ll be fine for the weekend.”
Dean took a step forward and you held up your hand to ward him off. You didn’t want him getting sick too. “I don’t mind staying here with you, Y/N.”
“And leave Sam alone? Last time you did that, he ended up taking off for a few days to see some author read her book for hours on end. The kid needs you, Dean. Who else will pull him from his geeky ways?”
“I think my sick girlfriend needs me too.”
“All that’d do is get you sick too. I’ll just take it easy for a few days, watch some Netflix, take some baths, eat some soup… I appreciate it, Dean. But I don’t want you to get sick.”
He sighed, giving in. “Alright. Fine. But I’m gonna be checking in so often it’ll feel like I never left.”
“Wouldn’t expect anything less.”
As he came closer, you knew it was pointless to try to get him to stay away. He wouldn’t leave without a kiss, even if it was just on the forehead. And, to be honest, you wouldn’t want him too. Looking up into his shining eyes, you gave him a weak smile. “Love you, Dean.”
“Love you too, sweetheart. Take care.”
You watched as he closed the door behind him before you sank back down into the pillows. It wasn’t even half an hour later that your chills turned to shakes and you barely made it to the toilet before upheaving the light breakfast you’d been nibbling on. With your head in the toilet bowl, you didn’t hear the squeal of the garage door opening or the heavy footsteps coming down the hallway. It was the fingers on your head, pulling your hair back from your face that would have made you jump if you’d had the energy.
“Dean?”
“I’m here, babe.”
“What about—”
“Sam called Charlie. She’ll meet him down in Georgia. I couldn’t leave my best girl alone while she was sick, so I just ran into town for a quick supply run.” Once he had all of your hair in a messy bun in his hand, he settled onto the floor next to you. “And I don’t want to hear anything about me getting sick.”
“’m glad you’re here.” Getting through a cold alone wasn’t a big deal. But when it suddenly became the flu?
The porcelain of the toilet was cold against your cheek; a stark contrast to the heat in your cheek. For nearly fifteen minutes, you sat there on the floor with Dean’s fingers tangled in your hair. When you puked all you had left to puke, you sat back against the wall with a sheen of sweat across your forehead. “Why can I keep fighting after literally getting shot in the leg, but a stupid virus knocks me out?”
Dean chuckled beside you, reaching up to fill a cup with water. “As badass as you are, sweetheart, you’re still human. Here, swish and spit.”
Just the slight movement it took to sit up and spit into the toilet upset your fragile equilibrium and triggered more dry heaving.
It was going to be a long few days.
*****
“Dean! Over there!” you shouted, pointing at the ghost that appeared behind Sam, who immediately dropped so Dean could shoot the phantom with rock salt.
Once the ghost disappeared momentarily, Sam resumed digging the grave. The pile of dirt seemed to grow and grow and grow, but the hole didn’t get any deeper. “Sam, hurry up!!”
“I’m going as fast as I can,” he gritted out, throwing another shovel of dirt on the pile that was now nearly as tall as him.
Three small kids ran out from behind the dirt pile just as your breaths started coming out in cloudy puffs. It seemed like your body was paralyzed. You tried to run to the kids, but couldn’t move as the ghost advanced on them instead. Desperate, you called out to Dean, trying to get him to shoot rock salt at the ghost for a brief reprieve.
But he didn’t respond.
“Dean!” You tried calling out again, again receiving no response.
The tell-tale sound of a shovel hitting a casket pulled you from your paralysis and you found that you could move again. Hinges creaked and you looked down in the hole that seemed to be a mile deep as Sam opened the casket. “Toss me the fuel and salt, Y/N!”
The fuel… the fuel… where the hell is the fuel? You looked all around you for the duffle bag that you swore was right next to you just moments ago only to see a patch of grass. The green grass shriveled into dusty brown specks before your eyes.
“Y/N!” Sam’s shout came again, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the grass particles that were carried away by the wind.
Suddenly, the three kids were right in front of you. Blood dripped down their faces and they spoke in concert: “You didn’t save us. Why didn’t you save us, Y/N?”
“No… no!” Backing away from the awful scene, you tripped and fell backwards, arms reeling as the grave Sam had just dug stretched into a seemingly never-ending fun house mirror effect. Children’s faces watched you from behind the mirrors, angry frowns morphing into chilling grins, damning you for your failures. Their deaths were on you. Further and further you fell, some unknown force pulling you towards purgatory.
Then you were standing in an old motel room. You gasped for air, doubling over. Equilibrium should have returned, but it was as if you were on a merry-go-round and the world wouldn’t stop tilting.
“Y/N.” Dean’s voice normally grounded you. But now? His deep rasp reached into your body and gripped your throat. Your air supply was cut off so suddenly that you couldn’t even gasp for breath. Those green eyes you loved so much glared daggers at you. “They died because of you. It’s all your fault.”
*****
“Stop it!” You shouted, waking yourself.
Dean’s head shot up from where he was bent over a laptop on the desk. “Whoa, Y/N.” As your chest heaved, struggling for breath, Dean hurried over. He immediately wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Baby, you’re okay. It was just a dream.”
You shook your head. “No, no it’s–” You cut yourself off and forced a deep breath in. Sure, the events were a dream, but the words? They were true. They were true, and they caught up to you. You’d spent so long shoving aside reality and focusing on the brothers and what they needed. What Dean needed.
Dean.
He didn’t need to deal with this. As soon as you could, you would fortify yourself again and push it all away. You’d be back to good again.
Another deep breath and you shook your head again, this time to clear your mind. “Just a dream,” you whispered, repeating his words. “Just a dream.”
“That’s right, sweetheart. Just a dream.”
You focused on Dean’s hand moving over your arm, drawing comfort from the familiar action. When you felt calm enough, you looked up at Dean, intending to thank him. But he took one look at your eyes and his brow furrowed.
“Sweetheart?”
“It was just a dream, Dean. I’m fine. I just… It’s the life, right?”
Calloused fingers trailed down your cheek and Dean brought his forehead to hers. “Sure, sweetheart. But that doesn’t mean nightmares don’t get to us.”
“They don’t get to you,” you whispered.
He sighed, breath disturbing the air between them. “Baby, they do. But I’ve got you. I get to wake up next to you and I remember that whatever the hell I’ve gone through and whatever I’ve fucked up in my life, somehow I’ve managed to do something right enough that you love me.”
“I do love you,” you murmured.
“Whatever your nightmare was about, whatever was said… Baby that’s not real. I love you. And that’s fucking real.”
For a long moment you sat in silence, just taking in the warmth and affection from Dean. Then you cracked a timid smile, taking the first step out of the tailspin that the dream had sent you into. “Since when do you say such pretty words, Dean Winchester?”
“Since the day I fell in love with you. And every damn day that I get to stand by your side and hold your hand and feel how much you love me.” His thumb traced over your cheek bone, drawing your eyes to his. “I don’t need to know the details about your dream. But if I can manage to deserve someone as amazing as you in my life after the shit I’ve done, then you sure as hell deserve sainthood just for putting up with me, not to mention for all of the people you’ve saved.”
“I didn’t save them all, Dean.” Your eyes fell from his as the kids’ faces from your dream flickered across the sheets in front of you.
“Baby, we couldn’t save them all. We tried every damn thing we could. Sometimes, it just isn’t possible.” Dean brushed his lips across your cheek. “You taught me that. Guess it was past time that you got that reminder, huh?”
You gave in and leaned against him, physically and mentally. “Pretty words from a pretty face. How did I get so lucky to have such a great boyfriend?”
“You think I’m pretty?” He smiled. “Cause I think those pretty words came from your pretty face first, sweetheart.”
His nose nudged yours moments before a soft kiss was brushed across your lips like a paintbrush feathering a sunset onto a canvas. The rumble of thunder in Dean’s voice settled you like a comforting weighted blanket. “‘sides, sweetheart… you saved me the moment I met you. If you can save a bastard like me, anything that tells you that you failed can shove it.”
Eyes shining, you fell into his eyes. “We saved each other, Dean.”
Summary: Just angst and depression, bruh. Remember, I let you guys vote for either this fic or the fluffy one and... well...
Platonic!Reader & Dean & Sam
Word Count: 1583
TW: Hospitals, ed, cancer, avoidance
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“That was the hospital,” Sam said once he hung up. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Dean with tired eyes. “Y/N’s there again.”
It hurt, but it wasn’t a surprise. “What happened?”
“She collapsed. They’re running tests now to see why.”
Y/N had been getting worse for months now. She hid it, but after it got to a certain point, to the point where the hospital got involved, she couldn’t hide it any longer. Dean grabbed his jacket and keys. “Let’s go.”
The ride was silent and familiar. It was the third time in as many months. The first time was just to pick her up. Y/N had gone to get a sleeping pill prescription, and the doctors wouldn’t let her get behind the wheel, saying that she would be a danger in her current state. The second time, she’d been so sick that her roommate insisted she go. Sam and Dean had been called because they were still on file from the first time.
And now she collapsed.
If only she would tell them what was going on with her.
*****
“They shouldn’t have called you.” I hated seeing Dean and Sam here. They shouldn’t have to take care of me. I was an adult. I could do this on my own.
Well, theoretically.
The Winchesters shouldn’t have to worry themselves about me. Sure, we grew up together, but that doesn’t mean they need to watch my destruction.
“They said you collapsed,” Dean said, pulling over a chair beside the hospital bed. God, I hated hospital beds. I hated everything about the hospital.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I use to hate hospitals. Now though, I found a strange sort of comfort.
“I had them remove you as my emergency contacts last time. They shouldn’t have called.”
“Well, they did. Why’d you collapse?”
Why does anything collapse? Governments, buildings, organs… too much pressure.
At my lack of an answer, Sam sighed and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re worried about you, Y/N.”
“They shouldn’t have called you,” was all I said. I’m an adult. I don’t need people looking after me. I should be able to do that myself. They could worry about their own problems.
“Why not?”
So far, my favorite part about living on my own was the independence. I could do whatever I liked. Whatever I wished. I just wish people would stop worrying about me because of it. I was on my own, so I should be on my own. I hadn’t talked to either Dean or Sam since the last time I was here. That was a whole month without any Y/N problems hanging off their shoulders. Now the hospital ruined that streak by calling them.
“I took you off my contact list. It’s unprofessional, really. And probably against HIPAA.”
“Why did you take us off your list?” Dean clarified Sam’s question with a sigh. He knew that I’d understood the first time. So he should also know that I wasn’t going to answer this time.
“They said they’re keeping me here overnight. You guys should go back to whatever you were doing. I’ll be fine.”
They shared a look and Sam stood up. “I’ll go find a nurse.”
He shut the door behind him. It was just me and Dean now.
“He’s going to get answers, Y/N. You might has well just tell me why you collapsed.”
Dean was raised right. Sam too. I suppose I was also raised right, but the lessons just didn’t stick for me like it did for them. The three of us. The fearsome threesome. A force to be reckoned with back in high school. Back when life was simpler.
“Have you seen the news? All those hurricanes and earthquakes? Man, I would hate to be there.”
He knew I wasn’t going to give him a real answer, so he just sighed heavily, pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes, and slid down the chair until he was comfortable enough. He was going to have to go to the chiropractor if he fell asleep like that.
“Dean, go home. Get some sleep in your bed. You have a game tomorrow that you need to be ready for.”
“Surprised you even know about that,” he mumbled, not moving.
The school sends out weekly emails about all of the events happening on campus I still get them even though I dropped out a month ago. Of course I know about the football games.
I’m not very good at being a real person lately. There’s just too much happening. Too many strings to keep track of. A to-do list that keeps getting longer and longer. More failures that keep piling up in the corner of my closet. I can’t do it all, so some things had to go. Dean and Sam just couldn’t see how much more free they were without me.
I guess they would figure that out soon enough.
“I forgot to eat,” I finally say out loud. It’s not completely the truth. I knew that I had to eat, but I just… didn’t.
Dean peeked at me from under the bill of his hat. “What?”
“That’s why I collapsed. They’re going to give me whatever I need then send me home. That’s it, okay? Nothing to worry about. You guys can go home now.” I closed my eyes, knowing that Dean was going to blow this completely out of proportion. If I had to hear it, I didn’t want to see it too.
“How do you forget to eat?”
It’s a lot of work. You gotta figure out what you want to eat, then see if you have everything to make it, then if you don’t you have to go to the store and spend money and time and be around people. And if your roommate is home, then you run the risk of having to be in the kitchen with her too and small talk is just something that I can’t do. Then, after all that hullabaloo, there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t just puke the food up in a few minutes.
It’s just easier to… not.
“Y/N, c’mon, what the hell?”
This would have been so much better if the hospital hadn’t called them. Dean was all about eating right. He cared about his body. It got him his athletic scholarships. It was his future. He was going to be in the NFL. He had to worry about that shit. And Sam? His future was all about being a personal trainer. It was his job to figure out the right way to eat and exercise and all that crap.
I was the brains. Well, I used to be. I used to think I was.
Funny how fast things change.
“Go home, Dean. Take Sam with you. The hospital’s got my back now. You have a game tomorrow.” I settle further into the bed.
“When was the last time you ate?”
The worst part of hospital beds was getting comfortable in them. It was impossible on a good day, but with wire and tubes sticking out of you? It was better to just resign yourself to a very uncomfortable night.
“Y/N.”
“And it’s not just the hurricanes and earthquakes. There was a giant tsunami too. It’s like the earth is trying to tell us that we’re not welcome anymore. Crazy.”
“I don’t care about that right now. Y/N, when did you last eat?”
I was so tired. And all this probably wouldn’t matter in a few weeks anyway. Dean had a game tomorrow. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna call security.”
His mouth dropped open. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, so I stared straight ahead at the door instead.
“Y/N, what the fuck is going on with you?”
The door opened and Sam returned with a nurse and a doctor. It was never good when the doctor came back in. Especially with a nurse. I addressed them, rather than my friends. “Can you get them out of here, please? I don’t want them here.”
“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea given—”
“Get them out of here!” I yelled suddenly, finding some hidden reservoir of energy to protect my friends from the ugliness that the doctor was about to tell me.
Dean and Sam protested, but they were too nice to fight against the nurse as she pushed them out the door. As soon as they were gone, I slumped back against the pillow.
“It spread, didn’t it?” I asked weakly.
The doctor nodded sympathetically. “The tumor in your brain that we found a month ago is growing faster than we thought, and the cancer has spread to your spinal cord.”
It didn’t take ten seasons of Grey’s Anatomy for me to know what that meant. “How long do I have?”
“It’s hard to say, but…” the doctor flipped through a few pages on my chart. It was just a stalling technique. It couldn’t be easy to tell a twenty-two-year-old girl that she was going to die soon. “I would say somewhere between three weeks and four months.”
“I can go get your friends, if you’d like. You don’t have to go through this alone,” the nurse offered.
I just shook my head. A single tear trailed down my cheek, but other than that I was able to keep all of my emotions buried deep. “No. They need to go. Dean has a game tomorrow.”
Request by miller1967winchester: You should do a series Dean x reader going off of the plot of Mulan where the reader pretends to be a male hunter because female hunters get looked down upon… [the rest of the request contains spoilers… and I’m not about to give any…]
Summary: You’re sick of the hunters you run into not treating you with respect since you’re a woman.
Word Count: 1901
Warnings: None
A/N: So… The semester started and I’m gonna be busy, so I’m not sure when I’ll be able to write stuff. But I’ll be posting the rest of this series within a week, hopefully. Also, this was my first request and it’s been a long time since I’ve written anything that didn’t come fully from my own mind, so I hope this isn’t too bad. Also, I have a thing for backstories, and a promise we’ll get to the actual Deanxreader part eventually!
Boys’ Club Series Masterlist – Spanish Masterlist
When your brother was thirteen, your father let him go on his first hunt. You had to wait until you were sixteen. Then, for your brother’s eighteenth birthday, your father’s gift to him was his first solo hunt. The first time you hunted by yourself was to track down the demon that killed your entire family when you were twenty-one. There was no reason that you should have had to wait longer than your brother. You grew up studying lore, shooting guns, learning to aim with knives. You had been just as good as any hunter.
But you were a girl. And, despite it being the twenty-first century, hunting was still inherently a male profession.
Summary: Just angst and depression, bruh. Remember, I let you guys vote for either this fic or the fluffy one and... well...
Platonic!Reader & Dean & Sam
Word Count: 1583
TW: Hospitals, ed, cancer, avoidance
-----
“That was the hospital,” Sam said once he hung up. He ran his fingers through his hair and looked at Dean with tired eyes. “Y/N’s there again.”
It hurt, but it wasn’t a surprise. “What happened?”
“She collapsed. They’re running tests now to see why.”
Y/N had been getting worse for months now. She hid it, but after it got to a certain point, to the point where the hospital got involved, she couldn’t hide it any longer. Dean grabbed his jacket and keys. “Let’s go.”
The ride was silent and familiar. It was the third time in as many months. The first time was just to pick her up. Y/N had gone to get a sleeping pill prescription, and the doctors wouldn’t let her get behind the wheel, saying that she would be a danger in her current state. The second time, she’d been so sick that her roommate insisted she go. Sam and Dean had been called because they were still on file from the first time.
And now she collapsed.
If only she would tell them what was going on with her.
*****
“They shouldn’t have called you.” I hated seeing Dean and Sam here. They shouldn’t have to take care of me. I was an adult. I could do this on my own.
Well, theoretically.
The Winchesters shouldn’t have to worry themselves about me. Sure, we grew up together, but that doesn’t mean they need to watch my destruction.
“They said you collapsed,” Dean said, pulling over a chair beside the hospital bed. God, I hated hospital beds. I hated everything about the hospital.
Okay, that’s not entirely true. I use to hate hospitals. Now though, I found a strange sort of comfort.
“I had them remove you as my emergency contacts last time. They shouldn’t have called.”
“Well, they did. Why’d you collapse?”
Why does anything collapse? Governments, buildings, organs… too much pressure.
At my lack of an answer, Sam sighed and came to sit on the edge of the bed. “We’re worried about you, Y/N.”
“They shouldn’t have called you,” was all I said. I’m an adult. I don’t need people looking after me. I should be able to do that myself. They could worry about their own problems.
“Why not?”
So far, my favorite part about living on my own was the independence. I could do whatever I liked. Whatever I wished. I just wish people would stop worrying about me because of it. I was on my own, so I should be on my own. I hadn’t talked to either Dean or Sam since the last time I was here. That was a whole month without any Y/N problems hanging off their shoulders. Now the hospital ruined that streak by calling them.
“I took you off my contact list. It’s unprofessional, really. And probably against HIPAA.”
“Why did you take us off your list?” Dean clarified Sam’s question with a sigh. He knew that I’d understood the first time. So he should also know that I wasn’t going to answer this time.
“They said they’re keeping me here overnight. You guys should go back to whatever you were doing. I’ll be fine.”
They shared a look and Sam stood up. “I’ll go find a nurse.”
He shut the door behind him. It was just me and Dean now.
“He’s going to get answers, Y/N. You might has well just tell me why you collapsed.”
Dean was raised right. Sam too. I suppose I was also raised right, but the lessons just didn’t stick for me like it did for them. The three of us. The fearsome threesome. A force to be reckoned with back in high school. Back when life was simpler.
“Have you seen the news? All those hurricanes and earthquakes? Man, I would hate to be there.”
He knew I wasn’t going to give him a real answer, so he just sighed heavily, pulled his baseball cap down over his eyes, and slid down the chair until he was comfortable enough. He was going to have to go to the chiropractor if he fell asleep like that.
“Dean, go home. Get some sleep in your bed. You have a game tomorrow that you need to be ready for.”
“Surprised you even know about that,” he mumbled, not moving.
The school sends out weekly emails about all of the events happening on campus I still get them even though I dropped out a month ago. Of course I know about the football games.
I’m not very good at being a real person lately. There’s just too much happening. Too many strings to keep track of. A to-do list that keeps getting longer and longer. More failures that keep piling up in the corner of my closet. I can’t do it all, so some things had to go. Dean and Sam just couldn’t see how much more free they were without me.
I guess they would figure that out soon enough.
“I forgot to eat,” I finally say out loud. It’s not completely the truth. I knew that I had to eat, but I just… didn’t.
Dean peeked at me from under the bill of his hat. “What?”
“That’s why I collapsed. They’re going to give me whatever I need then send me home. That’s it, okay? Nothing to worry about. You guys can go home now.” I closed my eyes, knowing that Dean was going to blow this completely out of proportion. If I had to hear it, I didn’t want to see it too.
“How do you forget to eat?”
It’s a lot of work. You gotta figure out what you want to eat, then see if you have everything to make it, then if you don’t you have to go to the store and spend money and time and be around people. And if your roommate is home, then you run the risk of having to be in the kitchen with her too and small talk is just something that I can’t do. Then, after all that hullabaloo, there was no guarantee that I wouldn’t just puke the food up in a few minutes.
It’s just easier to… not.
“Y/N, c’mon, what the hell?”
This would have been so much better if the hospital hadn’t called them. Dean was all about eating right. He cared about his body. It got him his athletic scholarships. It was his future. He was going to be in the NFL. He had to worry about that shit. And Sam? His future was all about being a personal trainer. It was his job to figure out the right way to eat and exercise and all that crap.
I was the brains. Well, I used to be. I used to think I was.
Funny how fast things change.
“Go home, Dean. Take Sam with you. The hospital’s got my back now. You have a game tomorrow.” I settle further into the bed.
“When was the last time you ate?”
The worst part of hospital beds was getting comfortable in them. It was impossible on a good day, but with wire and tubes sticking out of you? It was better to just resign yourself to a very uncomfortable night.
“Y/N.”
“And it’s not just the hurricanes and earthquakes. There was a giant tsunami too. It’s like the earth is trying to tell us that we’re not welcome anymore. Crazy.”
“I don’t care about that right now. Y/N, when did you last eat?”
I was so tired. And all this probably wouldn’t matter in a few weeks anyway. Dean had a game tomorrow. “If you don’t leave, I’m gonna call security.”
His mouth dropped open. I couldn’t stand to look at him anymore, so I stared straight ahead at the door instead.
“Y/N, what the fuck is going on with you?”
The door opened and Sam returned with a nurse and a doctor. It was never good when the doctor came back in. Especially with a nurse. I addressed them, rather than my friends. “Can you get them out of here, please? I don’t want them here.”
“Y/N, I don’t think that’s a good idea given—”
“Get them out of here!” I yelled suddenly, finding some hidden reservoir of energy to protect my friends from the ugliness that the doctor was about to tell me.
Dean and Sam protested, but they were too nice to fight against the nurse as she pushed them out the door. As soon as they were gone, I slumped back against the pillow.
“It spread, didn’t it?” I asked weakly.
The doctor nodded sympathetically. “The tumor in your brain that we found a month ago is growing faster than we thought, and the cancer has spread to your spinal cord.”
It didn’t take ten seasons of Grey’s Anatomy for me to know what that meant. “How long do I have?”
“It’s hard to say, but…” the doctor flipped through a few pages on my chart. It was just a stalling technique. It couldn’t be easy to tell a twenty-two-year-old girl that she was going to die soon. “I would say somewhere between three weeks and four months.”
“I can go get your friends, if you’d like. You don’t have to go through this alone,” the nurse offered.
I just shook my head. A single tear trailed down my cheek, but other than that I was able to keep all of my emotions buried deep. “No. They need to go. Dean has a game tomorrow.”
I'll tag everyone still with active blogs on my last taglist on this post and the fic. If you want to continue to be tagged if I continue to post fics, either comment or message me to stay on!! If you do not contact me somehow, I will no longer tag you.
I sure hope this isn't just a little sunshine spot of serotonin in my life, but I've been re-reading some of my (non fanfic) WIPs and there is one that I want to turn into a oneshot but I don't know what character to make it for. It feels like it is going to be fluffy and not to give anything away, but it involves singing... So... Here's a poll
“No. I live alone and I’m fine. I’m more scared of living lonely.”
The stars were obscured by the light pollution, but if you closed your eyes, you could picture a clear, mountain night with diamonds glittering across the black expanse. It would be a much better setting for this conversation, but since you weren’t near the mountains you vacationed at every summer as a child, this rooftop in the middle of Brooklyn and your imagination would have to do.
“Okay, you lost me.” The air beside you shifted a little as you heard Bucky take a drag of the joint you were sharing.
Eyes still closed, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. “I mean… I’m fine on my own, you know? I’m all independent and shit. Hell, that’s the reason none of my relationships have lasted.”
He passed the joint to you and raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure the reason you’re still single is ‘cause you only date assholes.”
“No. I live alone and I’m fine. I’m more scared of living lonely.”
The stars were obscured by the light pollution, but if you closed your eyes, you could picture a clear, mountain night with diamonds glittering across the black expanse. It would be a much better setting for this conversation, but since you weren’t near the mountains you vacationed at every summer as a child, this rooftop in the middle of Brooklyn and your imagination would have to do.
“Okay, you lost me.” The air beside you shifted a little as you heard Bucky take a drag of the joint you were sharing.
Eyes still closed, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. “I mean… I’m fine on my own, you know? I’m all independent and shit. Hell, that’s the reason none of my relationships have lasted.”
He passed the joint to you and raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure the reason you’re still single is ‘cause you only date assholes.”
The sour smoke curled around you, escaping your mouth and nose in puffs of laughter. “Okay, that’s a good point. Which brings me to the next part of my fear of living lonely: Getting stuck in a relationship that’s no good. Like, sure I’d technically be with someone, but I would still be lonely. You know?”
“Is this all coming out now ‘cause Stevie’s getting married?”
Ah, yes. The third part to your lifelong trio. You and Bucky had been best friends since preschool. Then when you went to kindergarten the both of you had taken to protecting little Steve Rogers on the playground. Even after he hit his growth spurt in Freshman year, the three of you had a dynamic that wouldn’t break.
And now he was getting married. The dynamic wasn’t breaking, but it sure was bending.
“Partly. And, I don’t know…” You lifted the joint to your lips and let the smoke dance into your lungs. This smoke was much different from the campfire smoke you all used to sit around in those mountains with your families. Instead of the crackle of logs breaking, you were surrounded by the honking and sirens of the city.
You exhaled.
“Ever since we graduated and moved here… I just see so many people with their person. They just seem so… so secure. They know they have a place by someone. I saw what being a single mother did to my mom and how hard it was when I moved out. She was by herself again. I don’t want to have to go through that, you know?”
“You always have me.”
You shot Bucky a soft smile and knocked his shoulder with yours. “I know. But one day you’ll get married too, because how in the world could a guy like you stay single forever? And I’d love to get married someday, but I just… It feels like it’s too far out of reach.”
“First off,” he said, stealing the blunt from you, “If a guy like me can’t stay single forever then a girl like you definitely isn’t going to stay single long. Secondly, we’re only twenty years old. And third, I forgot how dramatic weed makes you.”
“I’m not dramatic. I’m… ruminative.”
“Okay, Ms. I-Aced-The-SATs. How about this? When we’re thirty and you’re married, then I get to tell you I told you so.”
“Fine. And when we’re thirty and you’re married, and I’m not, you have to pay for me to go on vacation so I can cry into a margarita on a beach while a hot, shirtless, native guy fans me with a palm frond.”
The thought of Bucky being married made you a little sick to your stomach. Even Steve branching off of your trio to make his own family didn’t make your stomach turn like the thought of Bucky walking down the aisle did.
But that was a train of thought for sometime when you were alone.
“Deal.” Bucky held his hand out to shake on it.
A few minutes later, the joint was stubbed out and the both of you laid down on the blanket. As seconds ticked by, you felt yourself melting further and further into the cotton under you. Then a thought struck you and you sat up.
“What about if we’re both single? What do we do then?”
Bucky propped himself up on his elbows, taking a moment to study you. His scrutiny made you slightly uncomfortable until he broke a grin and shrugged. “Then we’ll marry each other.”
“Right,” you chuckled.
“Why not? I mean, we’re going to be in each other’s lives forever anyway. We know that we get along. You’re always my number one girl, we could just make it official.”
He was serious.
There was no way he was going to make it ten years without someone settling down with him, so what was the harm?
“Okay. So if we’re both single at thirty, we’ll get married?”
He held his hand towards you, pinky extended.
After a slight hesitation, you curled your own pinky around his.
A/N: I’m not really back. I just heard this song today and had my first flash of inspiration in literal years. The last two years have been awful for me and I haven’t been dealing with my grief as well as I thought I was, but I think I might be on an uphill climb, so maybe I’ll get more inspo along the way?
