#spn emeto
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Gunshot & Dental Floss
TV Show: Supernatural
One of the first Sickfics I wrote for Supernatural, featuring Charlie Bradbury as the sickie. I hope you enjoy!
CW: emeto, burping, infected gunshot wound
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When they arrived at the cabin, Charlie was sitting at the table, lying face down in a pile of old books.
“Charlie?” Dean called out, placing a hand on her shoulder. She shot up in her seat, a post-it note stuck to her face. “You okay?”
“Uh, yeah…hi guys,” she said, flinching as she stood up and wrapped an arm around her torso.
“Whoa, take it easy,” Dean said, reaching out to place his hands on Charlie’s shoulders. “How’s the gun shot?”
“It’s fine,” she replied, but Dean could see the pain in her eyes.
“Let me take a look at it,” he said, leading her over to the couch, which was a sickly green color that had rips and tears at the seams. Charlie laid on her back while he carefully lifted her blue graphic tee. She had a string of bloody bandages clinging to her skin, which Dean gently removed to reveal a red and puffy wound that had been sewn together with dental floss.
“Charlie, this is infected,” he stated, shaking his head. He instructed Sam to grab the medical kit from the Impala. Dean pulled out a bottle of rubbing alcohol and disinfected the area before replacing the frayed dental floss she had used as makeshift sutures. Charlie let out a soft whimper as he poked at her tender abdomen.
“It’s gonna be okay,” Sam reassured her, running a hand through her crimson hair. Once Dean finished stitching up the bullet wound, he wrapped a fresh layer of dressing around her waist.
“Thanks,” she said softly, pulling down her shirt and attempting to sit up. Sam was there to help prop her up with a couple of mushy pillows.
While Charlie filled them in on what little she knew about the Book of the Damned and the men that were chasing her, Dean kept his distance and decided to make them dinner with what little he could find in the cabinets. Ever since he laid eyes on that book, he could feel himself being drawn to it, as if it were speaking to him. In the background, he could hear Charlie and Sam discussing different ways to decipher the book's code, in an attempt to read the strange markings. Dean tried to drown out their voices, focusing on heating up a can of soup on the stove. He grabbed three bowls from the top shelf and found spoons scattered in several different drawers.
“Dinner is served,” he said, filling up the bowls and passing them out to Charlie and his brother. A half hour passed and Sam noticed Charlie had barely touched her food.
“Not hungry?” he asked.
“I thought I was, but I just feel a bit nauseous,” she admitted.
“Dean’s cooking will do that to you,” Sam joked with a smirk.
“Hey!” Dean said, furrowing his brow and shooting Sam a nasty look.
“I’ll be fine. I think I’m just tired,” Charlie said.
“Why don’t you go lay down in the bedroom and get some sleep?” Dean suggested. At first, she protested, saying there was no time for rest and that they needed to decipher the code as soon as possible. Eventually, the two of them convinced her that they’d be fine without her for a few hours and Sam promised to continue working on reading the book. Charlie stumbled when she stood up from the couch, the room tilting beneath her feet. She felt a pair of hands pressing up against her shoulders, keeping her upright. “Whoa, slow down. Take it easy.”
“M’ dizzy,” she mumbled.
“It’s okay. I gotcha, kiddo,” he reassured her, helping her across the room and into bed. Slipping off her shoes, he noticed that Charlie’s hands were wrapped around her stomach. Dean walked into the room carrying a large, heavy quilt that he draped over Charlie. She quickly wrapped herself up and snuggled in, falling asleep shortly after.
The two brother’s headed back out into the living room, closing the door behind them. Dean expressed his concerns to Sam, worried that the infection is making her sick.
“We’ll need to keep a close eye on it,” he said, rummaging through the med kit to see if they had any leftover antibiotics or painkillers. Unfortunately, they hadn’t been able to restock in a while and their supplies were running low. Sam took a seat in a big leather chair, positioned in front of the fireplace. He opened up the Book of the Damned and gingerly flipped through the pages made of human flesh. Dean could feel his heart pulsating in his chest and he felt like he needed to get out, so he decided to leave the cabin and go for a walk.
Charlie slept restlessly, fading in and out of consciousness, while her mind dreamt. Sam could hear a faint whimpering coming from the bedroom and he decided to go check on Charlie. It looked like she was having a nightmare. Walking over by her side, he noticed that her face was coated in a shimmer of sweat and her hair was damply pressed to her cheek. Sam placed a hand on her forehead, which radiated heat.
“Charlie, wake up,” he said softly, gently rubbing her forearm. It took a couple minutes, but she eventually fought her way out of her dream state. There was panic in her eyes.
“It’s okay, Charlie. You’re safe,” he reassured her, brushing a few strands of hair back from her face. “I think you were having a nightmare.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, “I was.” She tried to sit up, but a sharp pain in her abdomen forced her head back down on her pillow.
“Are you okay?” Sam asked with concern.
“I’m fine,” she whimpered, taking a deep breath. “It just hurts.” They heard the sound of the cabin door and then Dean’s footsteps growing closer.
“How ya feelin’, kiddo?” he asked, appearing in the doorway.
“She’s in pain and she’s got a fever,” Sam chimes in, “did you find any meds when you were looking through the kit?”
“Nadda. I’m sorry, Charlie,” he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“It’s okay. I’m tough,” she smiled. “I mean, I managed to stitch myself up with dental floss and I only passed out twice!” The two boys laughed.
“Yeah, you are pretty badass,” Dean admits. However, he couldn’t help but worry about that fever. They didn’t have any antibiotics and if the infection gets worse, it could become really dangerous. Although it wasn’t exactly safe to leave the cabin, especially with the Styne family after them, Dean figured they would need some supplies if they were gonna make it through the next few days.
Charlie tried to fall back asleep, but couldn’t get comfortable no matter what position she was in. There was a pounding in her head and her stomach grew more unsettled. Slipping a hand under shirt, she gently rubbed her belly, which gurgled violently beneath her fingertips. That’s not good, she thought to herself.
“Guys!” she called out, a slight panic in her voice. The brother’s hastily made their way in from the living room. “I don’t feel so good.”
“What’s wrong?” Sam asked with worried eyes. Dean noticed Charlie’s hand cradling her stomach.
“You feel like you’re gonna throw up?” he asked. She nodded. “Okay, let’s get you to the bathroom.” Wrapping Charlie’s arm around his shoulder, he guided her into the next room and carefully placed her in front of the toilet, lifting the lid.
“Did you want us to give you some privacy?” Sam asked from the doorway.
“Actually…could one of you stay with me? I don’t really wanna be alone right now,” she said weakly.
“Of course,” Sam said.
“Charlie, I’m gonna go to the store and pick up some meds to bring down your fever and help with the pain. Sam’s gonna stay here and look after you, okay?” he explained.
“Thank you,” she sighed before resting her head on her forearms that were folded across the seat, waiting for what was to come.
Letting out a few queasy burps, Charlie rubbed her bloated stomach. She had been on the floor of the bathroom for the past twenty minutes and still hadn’t thrown up yet. Part of her wanted to just get it over with, because then at least she might feel a little less miserable. Sam crouched behind her and rubbed her back.
“Want me to get you some water?” he asked. She looked up at him, eyes glassy, and nodded. When he returned with a glass of water, Charlie was gagging over the bowl, but nothing was coming up.
“Just breathe,” he said softly, offering her the glass. Sitting back against the wall, she brought the glass up to her lips and let the cool water slide down her throat. Suddenly feeling very thirsty, she gulped down the rest of the clear liquid.
“Whoa, take it easy,” Sam said cautiously. The water sat heavy in her stomach and she could feel it sloshing around as she moved, trying to find a more comfortable position. Goosebumps started to form on her arms and legs and she felt a sudden chill course through her veins.
“M’ cold,” she said behind chattering teeth. Sam left and returned with a blanket that he draped around her shoulders. Charlie hunched over as her stomach cramped, feeling her insides contract and pushing up the water that she just consumed. As soon as she opened her mouth a stream of projectile vomit splashed into the toilet. Sam reached out to rub her back again in small comforting circles. After emptying her belly, minutes of dry heaving and coughing followed.
“Think you’re done?” Sam asked once the gagging ceased.
“I think so…for now,” Charlie replied. Gripping her arm, Sam helped her off the floor and back into bed, placing a full glass of water on the nightstand and a trash can on the floor next to the mattress.
It wasn’t long before Dean arrived back at the cabin, carrying a plastic bag filled with a collection of pills, medical supplies, and gatorade. Sam greeted him in the living room.
“How’s Charlie?” Dean asked, setting the bag down on the dining table.
“She’s not doing so hot. She’s been vomiting and her fever is spiking,” he replied. “She passed out about ten minutes ago.”
“I hate to wake her, but we gotta get that fever down and I need to change her bandages,” Dean explained, walking towards the bedroom with the supplies he purchased at the store.
“Wake up, Charlie,” he said gently, pressing a hand up against her flushed cheek. “I need you to take some aspirin while I change your dressing.” While she choked down the two tablets of aspirin, Dean pulled back the covers and lifted her shirt. When he removed the bandage, the wound looked even worse. Now there was pus draining from beneath the stitches and the redness around it had spread. Dean cursed under his breath.
“That doesn’t look good,” Charlie stated, eyes wide.
“Uh, no…it doesn’t,” he replied, unable to lie this time. “Good news is I swiped this from the pharmacy.” He pulled out a bottle of pills from his jacket pocket and shook them in his hand. Charlie struggled to make out the letters on the bottle as Dean waved them around.
“Penicillin?” Charlie asked. “How did you get your hands on that?”
“Don’t worry about it,” he smirked and dumped out one of the pills in his hand, passing it over to Charlie.
Charlie gagged suddenly, leaning her head over the side of the bed as she spewed water and bile onto the floor, missing the bin, and splashing up onto Dean’s pants and shoes. Sharp pain shot through her abdomen as she twisted her body and a few tears rolled down her cheek.
“I’m so sorry,” she cried once she caught her breath.
“It’s okay, kiddo. Don’t worry about it,” Dean said kindly, stepping to the side and holding her shoulders to make sure she didn’t fall out of bed. The commotion brought Sam into the room, who went and grabbed some towels from the bathroom to help clean up the mess. Charlie tried to remain strong, but the pain from her wound was excruciating and the accompanying nausea and fever made it ten times worse.
“Dean, I really don’t feel good,” she whimpered, embarrassed that she would come across as weak.
“I know you don’t, sweetheart,” he said softly, his heart breaking just from the sound of her voice. “I’m gonna need you to take some more medicine though because I’m pretty sure I saw one of those pills land on my shoe.” He grinned, trying to lighten the mood and keep Charlie from shedding any more tears. She gave a weak smile and nodded, swallowing the meds with a few tentative sips of liquid. Dean changed out of his soiled clothes while Sam laid a cool, damp cloth over Charlie’s forehead. They dressed her wound and eventually, she was able to drift off to sleep and let the medicine do its work.
#supernatural#sickfic#spn sickfic#nausea#emeto#vomiting#burping#upset tummy#sick#gunshot#fever#comfort#hurt#charlie bradbury#my writing#emetophilia
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thinking about becky rosenberg and i’m so angry i might puke
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Alone (Whumpmas in July Day 3)
@whumpmasinjuly‘s day three prompt is love! for this prompt I’m going to be writing a Supernatural drabble. please take all warnings and tags to heart c:
Fandom: Supernatural (fandom knowledge isn’t necessary to enjoy this fic! all you need to know is that Sam’s girlfriend passed away tragically)
Pairing: Previous Sam x Jess, gen
Warnings/Tags: mentions of canon character death, whump, sickfic, emeto, angst, depression, loneliness, grief, mild horror, all hurt no comfort (sorry not sorry)
Summary: Shortly after Jess’ death and Sam’s reunion with Dean, Sam gets sick. He’s alone, delusional with fever, and desperate for someone, anyone to care for him.
Word Count: 970
A/N: So I really have no idea where this came from! I don’t ship Sam x Jess and have never written a fic about them. When I read the prompt ‘love’ this just instantly popped into my head. I also usually don’t write whump without the comfort aspect... I’m not sure why my muses lead me in this direction.
Sam sat on the cold bathroom tile, a chill seeping through the marble and up into his legs through his sweatpants. He shivered lightly as he rested his cheek against his arm, bent up over the toilet seat, his breath sending waves across the water. His legs were bent underneath him, toes straining against the ground for leverage, knees aching from the pressure. Sam winced as a cramp tore through his stomach, his free hand clutching his abdomen as he tried to pull himself through the pain, panting shallowly. If Jess had been there she would have been rubbing his back, pressing back his sweaty hair while whispering in his ear, promising him that he’d be alright. That she wasn’t going anywhere; she’d be here no matter what. Tears prickled the corners of his eyes as he tried to push away the intrusive thoughts, struggling to ignore the phantom sensation on Jess’ delicate fingers cradling his cheek. He whimpered involuntarily as images of fire flashed through his mind; Jess’ screams as she burned, suspended on the ceiling, the smell of burning flesh assaulting his nostrils. Sam retched as he relieved her death, remembering the way her blood felt sliding down his cheek, her eyes pleading and desperate, thinking that Sam would be able to save her but he failed. He always failed.
Sam pitched forward as he gripped the toilet seat with both hands, gagging harshly as his mouth filled with saliva. He coughed and spluttered as he struggled for air between dry heaves, tears streaming down his cheeks from the force at which his stomach was trying to turn itself inside out. Sam gagged painfully as he finally burped up a wave of vomit, the foul liquid burning his throat and nose, splashing into the water. He swallowed thickly, trying to fight back the bile rising in his throat before he coughed up another mouthful of vomit, eyes squeezed shut. With one final heave his vision went black, sights and sounds disappearing beneath a thick haze. He felt himself falling, just barely having enough time to hold out a hand before he cracked his skull on the marble. “D-Dean?” he called out pitifully, knowing full well that his brother wasn’t in the crappy motel room attached to the the bathroom. He’d left a few hours ago; at that point Sam only felt a bit hot and dizzy and Dean’s incessant rambling and had set him on edge. He admittedly had been acting a bit short, almost biting off Dean’s head when he called him Sammy, a nickname from their childhood that he was desperately trying to escape. After that Dean had left to head to some dive bar, hoping to pick up a girl for the night.
Sam groaned as he curled up into himself, pulling his knees to his chest, shaking so hard that his teeth were chattering. He was just so cold, so dizzy, so lonely, so unbearably hot. He imagined Jess sitting next to him on the floor, hushing him and rubbing his back, showering him with kisses and encouragement; you’re alright, I’ve got you, you’re doing so well, I love you... Sam whimpered, his fevered mind starting to slip into delusion as he reached out his hand, fingers clenching as he tried to grab hold of Jess’ dusty pink nightgown, her skin glowing in the dim bathroom light, just outside of his reach. He crawled along the tile using his shoulder and knee for leverage, desperately reaching for Jess but every time his fingertips rubbed against her skin she shot out of grasp, so close yet so far away. “J-Jess -” Sam choked as he gazed into her eyes, a small smile curling over his lips, a halo of gold and light radiating from her curls.
‘I’m here, Sam, I’m not going anywhere,’ her voice was muffled and echoed, wrong. Sam sobbed and let out a choked off laugh, his heart swelling as he stared at his dead girlfriend, tears streaming down flushed cheeks. He tried to push himself up so he could throw his arms around Jess’ shoulders, his arms straining against his weight, feeling like his body was made of lead. As soon as he had himself up he took a moment to admire her beauty; her perfect white smile, dazzling eyes, her rosy cheeks and her velvety skin. “I love you, Jess,” Sam murmured, his heart flip flopping in his chest as he reached out to touch her cheek. Her smile began to grow, twisting and stretching beyond her lip’s natural range, splitting on the edges as her cheeks ripped to contain her wicked grin. Sam gasped and pulled his hand back, flinging himself away from Jess as she began laughing, a deep, cruel sound. Flames erupted around her head, quickly engulfing her body as she cackled, black smoke billowing through the small room, leaving Sam choking. He bent forward, his hands pressed against the ground as he sobbed and coughed. As quickly as she had appeared Jess was gone, leaving nothing in her wake except the smell of burning hair and flesh.
Sam’s sobs quickly devolved into retches, a dribble of spit clinging from his lip to the ground. He doubled up as he gagged over the ground, bile splattering on the tile, splashing back between his hands. He coughed before burping harshly, his throat feeling like it was being scorched, raw and searing. Sam sobbed silently, no energy to try to hold back anymore, allowing the pain to invade his body, letting wave after wave of vomit crash on the ground. He couldn’t hold himself up anymore, letting himself fall to the ground, laying in his own sick as he cried and shook. “D-Dean?” he called out again, desperate for help, his heart shattered like glass.
But no one came.
#whumpmasinjuly#spn fic#sam winchester#sick sam winchester#emeto#whump#angst#sam winchester whump#spn emeto#canon character death#depression#loneliness#oops#misharuu#masterlist#illumivomi
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i just got genuinely nauseous thinking about how dean had no idea cas could love him back the same way before 15.18 but then remembered y yo a ti actually happened and ascended so it balances out i think
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I’ll Always Look After You-Sam Winchester
disclaimer: I do not own Sam Winchester or Dean. They belong to the SPN peeps.
Summary: After a hunt, Dean takes the reader out for dinner and drops her off to Sam. Little does Sam know, he and the reader are in for a long night.
Warnings: Vomiting, anxiety
Authors note: I basically only write sickfics cause I can never come up with anything else, so give me so prompts if your up for it. ❤️
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You've felt a little off since you and Dean went to a diner on your way home from a hunt. Sam had been home researching, so when Dean dropped you off, Sam had been waiting by the front door of the bunker.
" Where's Dean going?" Sam asked, even though he was sure he knew the answer.
"Went to the bar to pick up chicks and celebrate, but I'm not feeling it tonight, so he left me here." You replied feeling suddenly tired.You leaned on Sam as he nodded in response and led you to your room.
"Good night Y/N." Sam said quietly as he walked out and shut the door.
I laid down and closed my eyes tightly while rubbing my stomach. I knew I must have eaten something bad and I would be sick eventually, but I knew that if I said something, the sooner something would happen. So I laid there, tossing and turning, moaning in my head, and waiting for hell to come.
-An hour later-
I bolted up right and ran for the bathroom. Once there and hovered over the toilet, I began to freak out. I hate being sick. "SAM!" I scream through the open bathroom door.
Sam came running in, gun in hand, pointing it everywhere before looking down at me. With a sigh of both relief and worry, he shoved his gun in the back of his plaid pajama pants and knelt down next to me.
"What's wrong Y/N? Talk to me." he said while rubbing my back.
In response, I started gagging. Sam gathered my hair and rubbed my back while whispering in my ear. " Shhhhh, your okay. I've got you." I shook my head and gripped his free hand in mine, squeezing my eyes shut tighter, if that was even possible. "Just let it out." And did i ever.
Sam took the hair tie that I always keep on my wrist and ties my hair back while he stood up to get a wash rag. After wetting my rag, he placed it on my neck, which made a shiver run down my spine. Then he proceeded to rub my back and hold me up.
I was so weak once I finished. I fell back into Sam's arms and cried. I was hyperventilating and Sam knew he had to calm me down before I made myself sick again.
He brought his hands to my face and gently had me face him. "Y/N, look at me. Hey, your okay now. Copy my breathing." I did as I was told and followed Sam's chest as it moved. I could see the worry in his eyes, but he never let it show in his face.
I love Sam so I knew almost everything about the guy. The way he never lets emotion cross his face, but it always showed in his brown eyes. The way he reads and turns his full attention to it. The way he comforts the victims of a supernatural attack and acts like he's known them forever. I knew that he never sleeps anymore, but when he does, he's with me or Dean or Cas, but never alone. But I couldn't tell him I loved him because he probably doesn't love me back.
"Are you okay now?" He asked.
"Yeah. I still feel a little sick, but better." I replied and blush when I realize Sam had lifted me onto his lap when I was thinking. I was now being cradled in my moose's arms while my head rested on his chest.
"Let's brush that taste out of your mouth and get you into bed." Sam announced as he stood me up. I wobbled a bit at the sudden change in pressure, losing my balance, I fell straight into Sam. He caught me and literally swept me off my feet, setting me on the bathroom counter. I lean my head lazily on his shoulder as he fixes my toothbrush and then hands it to me.
After I brush my teeth and Sam cleans my face, he carried me to my room and laid me down on my bed. He left and went to go grab a trash can and some Gatorade and other supplies i might need. Once he came back and made sure I took some medicine to calm my stomach, he started to leave.
I grabbed his arm and turned him toward me. "Thank you Sam. I appreciate it." I said with a small smile.
"Of course. I'll always look after you." He said with a small smile. I patted the bed and he laid down, gun under his pillow and me wrapped in his arms. " I'll always look after you because I love you more than life itself." He whispered quietly right as I fell asleep.
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what if cas was going to say "for the first time i feel... nauseated" he just goes "for the first time... i feel..." and anna's like "it gets worse" and then he pukes on her shoes
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i just woke up from a dream where specifically 2005 jared padalecki and jensen same haircut ackles from an indeterminable year were at my house and jared started to throw up and i had to like rub his back and find a bag for him to get sick in and hold it open. i’m telling you all this because i KNOW!!! that i had this dream because i revisited the raw ribs story. i know it....and i resent it
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The way deancas adds up in every. conceivable. way. but its in the show spn on the network CW so we have literally no idea if they're smart enough to do it and how this has us all feeling like were gonna throw up out of anxiety NIGHTMARE
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If you're still taking prompts for supernatural, i would die to see a fic set in like season 1 where the boys have to pretend to be students at a college and they have to go to a party to fit in. The next day Dean wakes up with a bad stomach flu and sam thinks dean just partied too hard so he isnt sympathetic, but dean didn't feel well at the party and only had like 1 beer amd is really sick
TW: mentions of vomit
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Sam woke up to the sound of Dean puking. He rolled his eyes, grabbing the other pillow on his bed and pulling it down over his face to drown out the sound. His brother was such an idiot.
Sam must’ve managed to fall asleep because he woke up again a while later. Late enough that it was light outside, which was somewhat unusual. Most of the time when they were on a case Dean had them up and working at dawn. He sat up and glanced over at Dean’s bed, which was empty, but the bathroom appeared to be occupied.
He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of jeans, then walked over to the closed bathroom door, knocking harshly. They’d gone to this college party last night, trying to find the student who they believed to be possessed. They hadn’t been successful, but it appeared that Dean had successfully drank himself sick.
“What?” Dean snapped from inside the bathroom, his voice sounding rough.
“Once your done puking in there princess get out of there so I can shower. We got work to do,” Sam yelled, being loud on purpose. He knew Dean must have a headache from the hangover.
Dean groaned, then Sam heard a retch and a splash. Great, he was still throwing up. Guess he might not get that shower after all, and he very well may be working this case by himself today.
“Don’t feel good Sammy,” Dean moaned.
Sam was taken aback for a second. That wasn’t like his brother to just admit he was feeling bad, even if it was just a hangover. Normally he’d insist he was fine and blow it off like nothing.
“Yeah well you should know better than to drink yourself into a stupor while we’re on a job,” Sam rolled his eyes, walking back over to his bed to pull out his laptop to sift through social media and see if he could learn anything.
“S’all yours,” Dean mumbled a few minutes later, exiting the bathroom.
When Sam turned around, he was concerned by what he saw. Dean was wearing only a pair of boxers, his stomach visibly bloated against the waistband. His hair was matted down with sweat, face chalk white. That doesn’t look like a hangover.
“Dude what the hell happened to you last night?” Sam asked incredulously. They’d left together, so he didn’t see how Dean could’ve gotten himself into anything crazy.
“Nothing,” Dean snapped, sitting down heavily on the edge of his bed and dropping his head into his hands.
Sam walked over to his brother, placing a careful hand on his shoulder, not wanting to get sucker punched. But Dean didn’t even flinch or make a sound. His skin was burning though, heat radiating off of him in waves.
“You’re not hungover are you?” Sam asked, regretting how much of an asshole he’d been.
Dean shook his head miserably, “Only had like half a beer.”
“You’ve got a fever,” Sam commented, internally cursing himself. Dean never would’ve made this mistake. If the roles had been reversed Dean would’ve just known that Sam was sick. He always knew.
“Yeah, feel like shit,” Dean grunted. Sam could see his arms shaking from holding himself up.
“Alright, why don’t you lay back down and rest,” Sam said, grabbing Dean’s arm to help him pull himself the rest of the way onto the bed and curl up on his side, arms wrapped around his stomach. He’d never seen Dean like this, so compliant. The fact that he’d taken Sam’s bullshit yelling at him this morning without comeback also told him that he was really sick.
“Might puke again soon,” Dean mumbled, his eyes closed.
“Right,” Sam said, walking over to grab the trash bin from by the door, setting it next to his brother. He sat down at the edge of the bed, wondering if he should go get some medicine for the fever. Probably wouldn’t stay down anyway, he figured. “I’m sorry for yelling at you, I didn’t know you were sick,” he said.
“I know, s’okay,” Dean answered, shrugging his shoulders slightly.
“I just figured you were hungover, guess I didn’t notice you weren’t drinking last night. Wait, why didn’t you drink last night?” Sam asked, realizing that didn’t make sense anyway.
“Stomach hurt,” Dean said.
“You didn’t feel good yesterday already?”
Dean shook his head. Sam sighed, closing his eyes. How could he not have noticed? He certainly wasn’t going to be winning any ‘best brother’ awards anytime soon.
“S’okay Sammy,” Dean said, reading his mind, as always.
“Just try to get some sleep, cause I’m guessing you were up most of the night huh?” Sam told him.
“Yeah,”
“Well I’m just gonna be over here on my computer, trying to figure some stuff out, but I’ll be here if you need anything okay?” Sam said, giving his brother’s shoulder a quick squeeze to offer some bit of comfort without embarrassing him.
When Dean didn’t reply, he stood up, heading back over to his bed and opening his computer again. He kept one eye on his brother though, worried. Dean rarely got sick, but when he did it tended to kick his ass. Sam wasn’t exactly great at taking care of him, clearly. He was certainly going to do a better job from now on though.
#sick dean#caretaker sam#asshole sam#stomach flu#hangover#emeto#tw vomit#vomit trigger warning#sam and dean#winchesters#sam winchester#dean winchester#supernatural#spn
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Sam and Dean/Cas
Read it on AO3 here!https://ift.tt/2XsFb32
by AmmoLovesJyron
So. First of all, Sam/Dean? A huge no from me. I never have and never will ship Wincest or any other incest. Never. Sorry.
However, I had an idea to get around this post! I’m totally down for Dean/Cas and Sam being like don’t think I’m meant to see this so I’m going to work with that in mind. Take notes people, I’m no miracle worker and this will probably be shit since I’ve only really written Sam-centric in the spn fandom so far. *whimpers* please don’t hate me!
Square filled: Sam/Dean/Cas (to me that reads Dean/Cas and Sam being extremely uncomfortable but also really happy for his brother)
THIS IS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE WHEN I WROTE THAT. Whoops.
Words: 1207, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 4 of Sam Winchester Bingo 2019
Fandoms: Supernatural
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen, M/M
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester
Additional Tags: Sickfic, Vomit, emeto, Sam Winchester Bingo 2019, Hurt!Sam, Caring!Dean, I mean if you really want the truth it wasn't the infection that caused Sam to get sick
Link: https://ift.tt/2XsFb32
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Destiel Emetophilia Collection
I’m starting a Destiel emeto fic collection. It will include cannon storylines, high school AU, domestic AU, maybe ABO, etc. If you have any prompts for it, please don’t be shy! I doubt we’ll ever see Cas vomit on the show (since he’s an angel and all) but I abosutely love scenes where Dean is throwing up. I don’t feel like there’s enough SPN emeto out there.
#emetophilia#emeto#sickdean#sickcas#deanpuke#cas puke#all of the puke#vomitng#puking#omg puke is life tho
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Someone talk to me about SPN emeto
#please I'm such a lonely boy#i crave that sweet sweet emeto content#of my boys in SPN#mainly Dean ngl#or maybe Gadreel
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Sam and Dean/Cas
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XsFb32
by AmmoLovesJyron
So. First of all, Sam/Dean? A huge no from me. I never have and never will ship Wincest or any other incest. Never. Sorry.
However, I had an idea to get around this post! I’m totally down for Dean/Cas and Sam being like don’t think I’m meant to see this so I’m going to work with that in mind. Take notes people, I’m no miracle worker and this will probably be shit since I’ve only really written Sam-centric in the spn fandom so far. *whimpers* please don’t hate me!
Square filled: Sam/Dean/Cas (to me that reads Dean/Cas and Sam being extremely uncomfortable but also really happy for his brother)
THIS IS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE WHEN I WROTE THAT. Whoops.
Words: 1207, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 4 of Sam Winchester Bingo 2019
Fandoms: Supernatural
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen, M/M
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester
Additional Tags: Sickfic, Vomit, emeto, Sam Winchester Bingo 2019, Hurt!Sam, Caring!Dean, I mean if you really want the truth it wasn't the infection that caused Sam to get sick
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XsFb32
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about / byf
name: grayson or gray (kaz is okay too if we’re mutuals or you know me irl)
pronouns: she/her (preferred) and ey/em
age: 15 years old
other blogs
otabutch (yuri on ice sideblog)
leatherjacketbutch (butch/lesbian sideblog)
sidleterran (witchcraft/aesthetic sideblog)
studybutch (main blog, separate account)
about me
i’m a non-binary butch lesbian
i'm really into biology and linguistics
i’ve got
depression
an unspecified anxiety and panic disorder
adhd (inattentive type)
and i might be autistic
i have disordered eating
i’m recovering (?) from dermatillomania (it was triggered really severely by a medication that i used to take, but currently i only have mild urges that are usually easy to control)
privilege
i am able-bodied (so anything i say about ableism is referring specifically to my experiences with mental illness and developmental disorders)
i’m mixed (¾ european, ¼ puerto rican) but mostly white and certainly white-passing, so in terms of privilege it’s safe to just assume that i’m white
i’m also afab (assigned female at birth)
not intersex
and was raised roman catholic
so if i ever say or do something out of line or racist/ableist/otherwise gross, please tell me! i promise it wasn’t intentional, and i’d like to learn so i don’t repeat the same mistake again
before you follow
don’t follow if
you’re a terf (trans-woman-exclusive radical feminist) or swerf (sex-worker-exclusive radical feminist)
you’re a straight adult or a cishet man over the age of 18
you believe in reverse racism, heterophobia, misandry, etc.
you’re a porn or mainly nsfw blog
ask to follow if (does not apply if i followed you first)
you’re a cishet man under the age of 18
you’re a (non cishet) man over the age of 18
you know me irl
blacklist (i need tagged)
supernatural (the tv show) (preferably tag as #spn or #supernatural)
les miserables (the musical/book/movie/fandom) (preferably tag as #les mis or #les miserables)
glee (the tv show) (preferably tag as #glee)
graphic descriptions of self harm (preferably tag as #self harm or #self harm tw or something similar)
i tag (i don’t post most of these regularly, but just in case)
negative posts (#negative tw and #neg tw)
self harm (#self harm tw)
suicide (#suicide tw)
disordered eating / eating disorder (#disordered eating tw and #eating disorder tw)
food (#food tw)
abuse (#abuse tw)
body horror (#body horror tw)
eye injury / leg injury (#eye injury tw or #leg injury tw)
veins (#veins tw)
ribs (#ribs tw)
needles (#needles tw)
surgery (#surgery tw)
vomiting / emetophobia (#vomit tw and #vomiting tw or #emetophobia tw and #emeto tw)
moths (#moths tw)
r*tard / r slur (#r slur tw)
d*ke / d slur (#d slur tw)
porn / nsfw (#porn tw or #nsfw and #nsfw tw)
if you need anything else tagged just let me know, anon is ok if that makes it easier!
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Sam and Dean/Cas
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XsFb32
by AmmoLovesJyron
So. First of all, Sam/Dean? A huge no from me. I never have and never will ship Wincest or any other incest. Never. Sorry.
However, I had an idea to get around this post! I’m totally down for Dean/Cas and Sam being like don’t think I’m meant to see this so I’m going to work with that in mind. Take notes people, I’m no miracle worker and this will probably be shit since I’ve only really written Sam-centric in the spn fandom so far. *whimpers* please don’t hate me!
Square filled: Sam/Dean/Cas (to me that reads Dean/Cas and Sam being extremely uncomfortable but also really happy for his brother)
THIS IS NOT WHAT I THOUGHT IT WAS GOING TO BE WHEN I WROTE THAT. Whoops.
Words: 1207, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English
Series: Part 4 of Sam Winchester Bingo 2019
Fandoms: Supernatural
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: Gen, M/M
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel (Supernatural)
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel & Sam Winchester
Additional Tags: Sickfic, Vomit, emeto, Sam Winchester Bingo 2019, Hurt!Sam, Caring!Dean, I mean if you really want the truth it wasn't the infection that caused Sam to get sick
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/2XsFb32
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my new spn blogging style is just gonna be called “i had to make it funny or i’d puke”
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