#dean x doctor!Reader

[muchamusedaboutnothing]

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 11

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 11

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search , @frodo-sam ,  @becauseofthebowties , @stanfordsweater , 

Wordcount: 1435

Chapter  11

Jonah was swinging in his little portable baby swing in the mess hall while Dean cooked dinner. Addie walked in as Dean was flipping the steaks on the pan.

“Hey, Addie! Glad you’re back,” Dean said with a grin.

She took a dramatic bow, laughing softly. “Thank you, thank you.”

“No worse for the wear, I hope?”

“I’m good,” she assured him.

“Thank you for doing that,” Dean added.”For helping me try.”

Addie slid up next to Dean, close enough to put her arm around him in a little side hug. “You’re welcome. It was worth a shot. Would have been epic if it had worked out.”

“You got that right,” Dean said. Addie crouched down to snatch Jonah from his swing. 

"He sure likes his Aunt Addie," Dean said as she fussed over the baby, bouncing him lightly in her arms.

"Well, I'm madly in love with him," she said with a grin.

"About that," Dean said, his tone prompting Addie to meet his gaze. "Jonah's routine would be hardly recognizable without you here. It's not hard to see I don't do well with sitting on the sidelines, and obviously I'm a bit of a mess over it.

It just … it means a lot to me that you’ve been so great with him."

"I'm happy to do it," Addie said, smiling at him. "If you can't tell this has actually been a really nice break away from work and my usual day to day."

Dean glanced at her while reaching for a plate. "Yeah, well, our day to day is weird enough most people would run away." He winked at her and she laughed softly. "You know, I think all this has made me appreciate on some level how hard it must have been for our dad when our mom died," he admitted.

"Yeah?" Addie said, watching him as he worked in the kitchen.

Dean washed his hands in the sink, and for a moment Addie thought he'd decided against sharing more, but then started talking again.

"Sam was just a baby when it happened…. I'm sure he's told you." He glanced up long enough to acknowledge Sam with a nod as he walked into the Mess Hall, but otherwise continued on. "I don't know, having two kids and going at it alone like Dad did while he was still grieving? I can't imagine anything being harder than that. If he'd had help - someone around to make sure he wasn't slacking off on some of the father stuff, I don't know … things might've been different."

"You haven't been slacking off," Addie assured him, throwing finger quotes up with one hand. "You're a great father, Dean. Jonah is a lucky little boy to have you. He was born into a really special family."

"As far as Dad goes," Sam added, joining the conversation. 

"You shouldn't have had to, Dean, but you stepped up to help and lighten the load. And I turned out just fine, thank you very much."

A smile tugged at the corner of Dean's mouth as he went to the fridge to retrieve the steak sauce.

"And Jonah's mom is coming home. Soon," Addie reiterated.

Dean chewed his lip as he considered her. He hoped she was right about that.

You had eaten dinner at a fast-food joint and positioned yourself to watch the witch’s shop again that evening. It was around sundown and you sat wondering how you were going to know when the time came to do something more. If Dean and Sam had been with you, the three of you would have stormed the shop by now, but solo hunting changed everything. Still, you couldn’t help feel the pressure mounting. You’d have to do something soon.

Dean called to check in as you were in the middle of your existential hunter’s crisis.

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“Just watching the shop,” you said with a sigh. “That’s all I do, really. I watch. And I wait. But I’m honestly not sure what I’m waiting for.” Then, just because you really needed to change the subject you said, “How’s my little JoJo?”

“He’s gassy,” Dean said.

The answer was so absurd and the timing so perfect you couldn’t help but laugh into the phone. You suspected Dean knew that’s exactly what you needed right now. He always knew somehow, and you heard him chuckling softly on the other line.

“He’s good,” he reassured you. “And he hasn’t asked me for the car keys yet, so there’s that.”

“He better not,” you said with a grin, playing along. Just then you saw the shop doors open and three demons exited the building. You narrowed your eyes as you watched. Two of them walked twenty yards away and climbed into a dark colored SUV that was parked on the side of the road. The third set off on foot in the opposite direction. It was the first time you’d seen that many of them leave the building at once.

You hadn't seen the witch come out of the building, which meant she was still inside.

You’d never seen more than three demons together around the shop, so even if there was one or two inside you were unaware of, you liked your odds.

This could be it, you thought. This could be my chance at getting to her.

“Dean, honey, I’ve gotta go. Her cronies are leaving and she’s still inside. If I don’t go now I could miss my chance.…”

“Wait, what?” Dean’s voice was desperate, even as he realized you were right.

“She’s growing her numbers. I don’t know what she has planned, but it can’t be good. I can’t stand by and watch while she has the demons possessing sick people in the hospital and walking them out the doors.”

Dean didn’t have the time or the words to talk you out of it.

“I’m going in,” you added hastily. “I love you, Winchester.”

"Sweetheart-"

As you disconnected the call you hoped you were doing the right thing, but the time for debating your options had passed. The witch had evaded your family for long enough. It was time to make her answer for her crimes against the Winchesters.

Dean stared blankly at his phone’s screen for a heartbeat before turning on his heel to head for the nursery.

Sam was sitting with his long legs stretched out in front of him on the floor, a book in hand, while Addie held Jonah in her arms in the rocking chair when Dean burst through the door.

Sam looked up, a little startled, stopping mid-sentence. "What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the urgency in his brother's eyes.

"I'm doing it. I'm going."

Sam got to his feet then, setting the book on the top of the bookcase. "But the witch will see you coming."

"Doesn't matter. She thinks the witch is alone and she's going in after her as we speak. At this point the witch thinking I'm on my way is just a good distraction from what's really about to go down. But I'm not just going to sit here and wait to hear-"

"Okay, okay," Sam cut in to save Dean from having to justify his decision with a fear-fueled rant. "I get it. I do. Did you at least tell her you're coming?"

"Nope. Going anyway." Dean glanced at Jonah who was happily lounging in Addie's arms.

"Do you both need to go?" Addie suggested. "It's okay. I can watch over-"

But Dean was shaking his head. "If this goes south," he said directly to Sam, "I can't have you anywhere near it." He didn't have to add the implied, 'You'll be raising my son' for Sam to know what he meant by that.

Sam held Dean's gaze, nodding.

"We've got him," Addie assured Dean, knowing he was hesitant to leave Jonah. She got to her feet and approached Dean, holding Jonah up for him to take.

Dean shifted Jonah into his own arms, tucking his face down to breathe in Jonah's sweet baby smell before he kissed him softly on the head. "Be good, kiddo. Daddy's going to help your mom. Be back soon."

He handed Jonah back to Addie and then gave her a grateful kiss on the cheek.

Sam thumped Dean in the back with a hand as he hugged him tight. "Don't worry about him. We've got things handled here. 

You get to her fast and then get back here safe."

Dean nodded, giving one last longing glance toward his son and his brother before he walked out.

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

Please consider supporting my writing by buying me a coffee. In my case, it’s Dr. Pepper, but a little caffeine goes a long way when it comes to writing and posting this labor of love.

Tags are currently closed. Message me if you’d like to be added to the tags for when it opens again.

*HOAH Text divider by the brilliant Talesmaniac89

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[super-marvel-dc]

Geralt: You're a lying piece of shit!

Dean: Oh yeah? You're the idiot that thinks you can get away with everything you do, WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD!

Geralt: I'm leaving and I'm taking Y/N with me!

Stephen, gathering cards: Aaaaand that's enough Monopoly for today.

Y/N, being tugged by both Dean and Geralt: I DON'T EVEN LIVE HERE! STEPHEN, HELP!

[muchamusedaboutnothing]

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 14

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 14

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search, @jamiedornaniseverything , @iansomerhaldres ,

Wordcount: 1873

Chapter  14

Dean could still hardly believe it was over. He was so goddamn proud of you his heart could burst with it.

He’d been less than an hour away when you’d called to say the witch was dead. Of course, he didn't admit when you called that he was already on the road to meet you, but you’d find out soon enough.

He knew the name of the motel you were staying in, but not the room number. When he pulled into town he called but you didn't answer, prompting him to call a second time. "Come on, sweetheart. Pick up … pick up …."

Still no answer.

He was relieved to see your truck parked only a little haphazardly in front of the stretch of motel doors. He parked Baby next to it and cut the engine, grabbing the keys as he hurried to climb out.

He looked around quickly. There were two motel doors directly in front of him, but after another glance he noticed drops of blood on the cement in front of one. He cast his eyes up to find a smear of dried blood on the doorknob, too.

He banged on the door. “Hey, it’s me. Open up.” He waited, but you didn’t come to let him in. He knocked again, sighing in frustration. It took a moment to pick the lock and he let himself in the room, but it was still faster than arguing with the motel's manager.

"Hey, you in here?" he called out as he closed the door behind him.

Your duffel was on the bed but there was no response. His eyes drifted further toward the bathroom where one of your boots was barely visible in the bathroom doorway.

He rushed forward to find you lying motionless on the linoleum with enough blood on your clothes to make his heart jump into his throat.

"No, no, no. Oh God.… " Dean dropped to his knees, searching for a pulse at your neck. He breathed a sigh of relief when he felt it bounding there beneath his fingers. He kissed your forehead, shoving down the wave of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him as he moved on to inspecting you closer.

There were no obvious signs that you'd hit your head when you'd blacked out; another thing to be grateful for.

A needle driver was still clasped in your hand and you'd managed half a dozen stitches in the cut above your hip before passing out. From the looks of things, you'd need at least that many more to close it.

Dean loosened the belt around your thigh only to discover a gunshot wound. He cursed under his breath as he inspected the area closely. There was no exit hole and, while fresh blood slowly oozed from the wound, he was certain no major arteries were involved. He tore open a fresh gauze square and pressed it to the hole, quickly scanning the supplies already spread out all over the bathroom floor and sink.

He grabbed an elastic bandage and wrapped it around the top of your leg to hold the gauze in place and provide some compression. It would only take him a moment to finish what you'd started with the cut in your side, but retrieving the bullet would be more complicated.

"Okay, sweetheart. I've got you."

He carefully gathered you in his arms, mindful of the most obvious injuries as he carried you to the bed.

You awoke to a stinging pain in your side and throbbing in your thigh. When you opened your eyes you saw your husband bent over you, brow furrowed in concentration. You tried to speak, but your throat was so parched you only managed a soft groan.

Dean's head snapped up and he smiled as he looked at you. "Hey, there she is … my beautiful badass."

You cleared your throat. "I ... I must have-"

"Blacked out?" he offered, eyes soft and full of concern. "Totally understandable considering you were stitching yourself up. And don't worry, this cut here didn't even mess up your tattoo." He winked and kissed your lips tenderly, pulling back to gaze at you. "Hang tight for me, kay? I'm gonna finish patching you up."

You sucked in air through your teeth at the feel of the needle piercing your skin as he worked. "How - how did you get to me so fast?"

He hesitated for a heartbeat. "We'll fight about that when you're fit to be fighting again."

You knew that meant you wouldn't like whatever answer he had. Maybe letting it be for now was the right choice. "Jonah?" you asked. "Is he-"

"With Sam and Addie," Dean finished. "Playing house and getting spoiled."

You sighed a breath of relief then, only to suck in another at the pain.

"Just finishing up with this cut, and the gunshot wound in your leg is a given, but what else hurts?" Dean asked. You must have thought a little too long about how to answer, because Dean turned his head to study your face again. "Still with me?"

"Hmm? Yeah…."

"C'mon, sweetheart. You gotta tell me everywhere those sons of bitches messed you up."

You tried to focus on the question because it was reasonable for Dean to want to assess your injuries. You hadn't given him a lot of information on the phone earlier - certainly hadn't wanted to worry him more than he already was. But then, you'd apparently overestimated your ability to stay conscious while suturing yourself up.

"The gunshot wound and the cut are the worst of it," you answered.

Dean was quiet while he placed two more sutures and tied it off, trimming the excess. "Hang tight. Gotta put a bandage on this." He secured a large piece of gauze in place on your side with medical tape.

He loosened the elastic bandage he'd wrapped around your thigh and slid it further up your leg before wrapping it tighter to act like somewhat of a tourniquet. Then he immediately set to work examining the bullet wound. "Small calibur, judging by the entrance hole," he said as he worked.

"It was my backup weapon," you admitted.

Dean's eyebrows went up. "Your .380?"

"She ricocheted a round back at me and, well … "

Dean nodded in understanding. "Okay then. Good and bad news is the smaller caliber means less soft tissue damage, but the slug might be a little harder to find."

The combination of pain and surprise made you snort. "I must be delirious. I swear I just heard you say soft tissue damage."

Dean glanced up at you, a cocky smile on his handsome face. "What can I say, sweetheart? Been married to a doctor all this time. Apparently the lingo's rubbing off on me."

He used iodine from the med kit to sterilize the wound.

"There's a metal probe that's rounded on the ends." You gestured with a wave of your hand toward the med kit.

"I know. I got this," Dean said with a reassuring smile. "Hang in there for me." With forceps in one hand and the probe in the other he began searching for the bullet.

"Son of a-" You gasped and reminded yourself not to flinch or jerk away as Dean worked.

"Sorry sweetheart, but you gotta breathe," he encouraged without looking up. "Now that you're conscious let's try to keep it that way, hmm?"

You did as he said and exhaled before sucking down another breath of air. Jaw clenched, you closed your eyes against the searing, hot pain. Beads of sweat gathered on your brow. Willing yourself to hold still, you desperately wished it was over already. You just wanted to sleep.

Several minutes passed before Dean let out a victorious "Ah-ha, gotcha!" He was holding the mushroomed .380 slug up in the light using the forceps. "Another one for the Mason jar back home," he said as he set it aside on the nightstand.

"Thank you," you breathed.

"Don't mention it," he said, shooting you a wink. "Give me a second to clean this out." He ripped open a packet containing a syringe with his teeth and used it to draw up some sterile saline. Then he aimed the syringe at the bullet wound and pushed in the plunger, washing out the wound. He repeated the process several times.

"This one will have to heal from the inside out," he said as he dried the area with a square of gauze.

You nodded in agreement as he applied some antibiotic ointment and put a clean dressing in place. His doctoring skills had certainly come a long way since you'd met him.

"Good work, grasshopper," you said, smiling through the pain.

Dean moved the supplies out of the way. He brought you a glass of water and you popped an antibiotic pill from the med kit to help prevent infection.

"Let me take a good look at you." Dean's hands carefully went from your ankles to your head, checking for any other areas of tenderness or bleeding in between that he might have missed before. You had some sore spots, but that was to be expected after the fight you'd been in.

When he gently took your face in his hands and looked into your eyes, you knew he was scrutinizing the size and shape of your pupils.

"You get your bell rung?"

"Only if you count headbutting a demon."

His lips turned up in an amused smile. "That's my girl."

But it hit you like a brick then. "God, the demon��. We have to get back to the shop."

Dean's brow furrowed. "What? Right now?"

"I left a demon behind in a devil's trap."

Dean blinked at you. "One demon? So, I'll gank him. Let me just get you situated here first."

You were already sitting up again and lowering your feet to the floor. "No. I need to go."

"I don't think you should be going anywhere. I'll take care of it."

"I'm going. I need to get dressed."

Dean squared his shoulders, planting himself in front of you. "Dammit, sweetheart. Don't you think you're being a little unreasonable?"

You paused long enough to look up at him, taking a step closer and reaching out to grasp his hand in yours. "This demon - or, rather the person he's possessing - I need to find out if he can be saved. He’s the patient that was in the medically induced coma. What if we can exorcise the demon and save him?"

Dean studied you with concern in his green eyes, but, to his credit, he nodded resolutely. "Yeah, okay. If that's what you need to do."

You suspected his profound relief at your still being alive factored into that answer.

Dean retrieved his bag from the car and helped you pull on one of his clean t-shirts and your sweatpants. "You know, this still doesn't mean you have to go. I can handle an exorcism so you can stay and rest."

"Nice try." You gave him a little smirk that meant you were digging in your heels, but appreciated his failed attempt to leave you behind.

You limped across the room. "Where are my truck keys?"

Dean sighed, admitting defeat. "Just get in the car. I'm driving, missy."

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

Please consider supporting my writing by buying me a coffee. In my case, it’s Dr. Pepper, but a little caffeine goes a long way when it comes to writing and posting this labor of love.

Tags are currently closed. Message me if you’d like to be added to the tags for when it opens again.

*HOAH Text divider by the brilliant Talesmaniac89

Tags:@ @tombraider42017 @peaceloveancolor @riversong-sam @aiaranradnay @whit85-blog @mogaruke @attractiverandomness @jolly60sdreamgirlcroissant @randomthings077 @jensen-gal @mrswhozeewhatsis @anticipate1003 @xthefuckerysquaredx @emoryhemsworth @nosleeptillbucky @avengersgirllorianna @x-waywardaf-x @cassieraider @nyxveracity @rhiannon79j @hobby27 @sleepretreat @spnbaby-67 @dramaqueenrolf @chalicia @black-shad0w-w0lf @notyourtypicalrose @carribear31 @berruneko09 @tinageekandtraveler @my-proof-is-you @deansenwackles @supernatural1967blog @81mysteriouslyme @waywardsistersandpie @baby7879 @cookiechipdough @miraclesoflove @scarletmeii @dawnie1988 @katelynw93 @playingdeep17 @deam-lunae @foxyjwls007 @mamaredd123 @mylovelydame21 @thoughts-and-funnies @deanwanddamons @blonde-in-charge @casedeanjamiecordismwyattclayfan @deanwinchesterswitch @supernatural79impala @stixnstripesworld @krazykelly @waywardwifey @mariaenchanted @roseblue373 @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @ @theoriginalvicki @lavieenlex @akshi8278 @ravenesque @end-lessnights @sylverminx @thereisnolumos @angelblazon @michellethetvaddict @bebravekeeponfighting @angelsandwinchesters @16wiishes @kurage14 @deans-baby-momma @adoptdontshoppets @rainflowermoon @ruprecht0420 @healojane @shawnie74 @lyarr24 @dean-winchester-lover99 @sexyvixen7 @ @ @ @ @ @lovememisha @sea040561 @growningupgeek @kittycat-cas @lallybrochloser @jensen-jarpad @deanscherrypie @mysteriouslyme81 @atc74 @notnaturalanahi @mousehybrid @supernatural-jackles @evansrogerskitten @girl-next-door-writes @mypopculturediva @destieliswrittenonmyheart @abbessolute @lavieenlex @fandom-random24 @procratsinator @mamaredd123 @amotleyworld @cardiaccadillac @jayankles @wrenwritesometimes @pearlparty @daughterleftbehind @inthecarwithaboy @deathtonormalcy56 @roxy-davenport @sarah-heyes @iamabeautifulperson18 @ravenesque @deepbreathssammy @​@2spoopy4uamigo @melmo-omnomnom @saralovixe @itseverythingilike @kbl1313 @disenchanted66 @mandilion76 @xagateophobiax @thelittleredwhocould @kittenofdoomage @ladylachesis @sylverminx @thereisnolumos @angelblazon @michellethetvaddict @roxyspearing @emmysthougts @mrssamfuckingwinchester @gloria1097 @anotherwaywardsoul @beatlesobsessionlove @deans-baby-momma @gh0stgurl @winchesterprincessbride @linki-locks11 @pjofangirl18 @bunnybaby121115 @rckyfrk @imaginationisgrowth @salt-n-burn-em-all @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @reginaphalange2403 @tree-hill-hufflepuff @a-distantdreamer @jennifromtheblock1013 @ceisbill @itsallaboutthedean @janicho88 @pandamonium615 @bettyvonbonbon @foxyjwls007 @peachyafshawn @taetaewonderland @wonder-cole @acklesterritory @compresshischest09 @jbsgirl4ever11 @defenderrosetyler @supernatural-love14 @waywardwifey @that-one-gay-girl @kpwatsonn @midsummereve1993 @tvdspngirl314 @jarpad24 @samsgirl93 @shawnie74 @nancymcl @solsborg @dean-winchester-lover99 @thewhochester @sexyvixen7 @jenniferr0323

[wildwallflower24]

Me waiting excitedly for my favorite author to post the fic I requested

(But also patiently because I respect that fic writing takes time and that authors have lives outside of Tumblr)

(Seriously though I love and respect every fic author on tumblr, and I hope you’re all having a wonderful day)

[deanscherrypie420]

What should I do!

Now that we have who, WHAT?

Please send in comments, asks, or a message about any ideas you'd like me to write about! ❤️

[welldonebeca]

Trust Your Doctor (2)

Masterlist

Sam’s eyes watched slowly as Nancy undressed behind the curtains, her tight little body creating the sexiest of silhouettes, and his hands just itched to pinch her small tits. 

He remembered very well how she usually dressed. Sam had been seeing her for nearly 4 years now, since she had turned 15, and this was probably the first time she didn’t just come in baggy clothes, but a pretty dress.

It was adorable, she was trying so hard to look like a grown-up but still looked like just a little girl.

She wasn't even 19 yet, and was just a little virgin planning to fuck a random boy who didn't deserve such an opportunity, and would certainly not know what to do.

Sam couldn't let her do that.

He was older and wiser, a doctor who knew everything about her little body and what he was doing. 

So he was going to help her.

He watched as she put her clothes on the nearest chair, and moved his eyes away when Dean's message popped up on his computer. 

'I just locked up. Have fun with your girl.'

Sam rolled his eyes.

'Okay.'

He raised his gaze up again, and she was already standing up and waiting. 

“Are you ready, Miss Sousa?” he called out.

Sam stood up, and she just stood frozen on his spot. 

"Yes, sir," she answered quickly, voice high and cute.

He walked around the room, eyes never leaving her as he pulled the curtains away, and smiled softly when she looked up at his face.

"Please, lay down," he told her.

Nancy rushed to obey him, little hands clenching the ugly gown to cover her tiny body, and Sam had to control himself from just telling her she didn't need to do that. 

But the gown would be off soon enough.

Sam raised his eyes and held back a grin as her pretty cheeks reddened up in a flush, and she chewed her lower lip. 

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Nervous," she mumbled.

He rubbed her foot softly. 

"It's okay," Sam assured her. "You're safe."

Nancy nodded, little fingers clenching the gown. 

"I know," she mumbled. "I'm just... not used to being naked around hot men." 

Sam raised his eyebrows, surprised at the compliment.

"Men," she corrected herself quickly, blushing even more. "Around men."

He looked away, licking his lips, and his mind rushed to what she was hiding for him. He remembered her nipples, tiny and pink, mouthwatering. Maybe they were hard right now; that was why she was hiding so much.

Sam remembered very well the last time she had been in his office. Her mother was right there, hovering over him, sitting right by her side as he worked and listening and taking notes. She was right there when her little teen daughter got wet for him as he examined her with his fingers, little clit swelling and virgin hole drooling.

And now, mama wasn't around.

And he was going to show it to her before she made the mistake of letting her stupid little fling into her. 

"Alright," he pulled his chair. "Ready?"

She nodded, and Sam walked to her side, raising his hands to hers and slowly prying them away.

"Did you notice any lumps or changes since I've seen you?" he asked, pressing on the soft flesh of her breasts. 

They were proportional to her body, so small he could cover them with a single hand of his.

Nancy gulped. 

"No, sir."

Sam hummed softly, thumb touching her tiny nipple, already feeling it hard, though he had barely touched her. 

"Any leaking I should be worried about?" he asked. 

Nancy shook her head.

"No, sir," she mumbled again.

"Good girl," he answered back. 

She gasped, and Sam raised his gaze to her face, finding her brown eyes wide. 

"Uh?" she asked. 

"When you were here before, your mother always had all of the answers written down," he reminded her. "Good job."

Her shoulders relaxed, and Sam wondered if she had bought it.

"Any pain?" he moved down her body, fingers skimming down her little stomach.

He watched as she shivered, and pressed on her lower stomach, checking for any differences over her uterus.

"Just some period cramps," she told him. "Nothing much."

"All going fine," she whispered.

He nodded, yet unsatisfied. 

"When are you expecting your period? I need some data to help you with the pill."

Her face reddened. 

"I'm ovulating today," she told him. "So... I think it's... next week or something?"

Sam tried not to scoff. 

She shouldn't have come when she was ovulating. Didn't she know it would make things too risky?

He couldn't cum inside her.

Not yet, at least. 

He'd fill her up soon enough.

"Okay," he mumbled.

Sam moved to pull his chair and sit between her legs, and exchanged a look with Nancy when he realised she'd cover herself up again. He would spank her hands away if he could. Soon enough, though, she'd be comfortable with him not to hide, he knew it. 

"Sorry," she mumbled, pulling the gown up from where it was covering her pussy. 

Sam didn't answer, just adjusting himself as her little pussy was exposed, bare and hairless. 

She had waxed just for him. What a lovely girl.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "The guy I'm seeing likes hairless girls, so I waxed." 

He looked at her, surprised, and clenched his jaw. 

Not for him, then. 

"I know you don't care about that," she added quickly. "But... yeah..."

"It is up to you," he told her. "But being hairless isn't that good for you. The hair protects you from some infections and is very hygienic. Don't let people tell you otherwise."

She blinked, brown eyes watching his face very curiously. 

"The beauty standard is constructed around prepubescent girls," he added. "No wrinkles, no hair, tiny... you are an adult. You shouldn't let a random boy tell you what to do with your body."

She should have the freedom to look however she wanted to look like. No random boy should be telling her what to do with herself.

Nancy nodded slowly, pretty cheeks blushing again as she stared at him in awe.

"Thank you, Sam," she smiled, much sweeter and relaxed, and her eyes widened when she realised her slip. "I mean... doctor. Thank you, doctor."

He just smiled. 

"You can call me Sam," he assured her.

He watched as her little body relaxed, and her legs spread a little wider.

Sam moved his eyes back down and licked his lips under his mask. 

There it was, the pretty cunt that had him hooked.

It looked just as tight as he remembered, and he recalled very well having to will himself into not sliding a finger into it when her mother was right there. But they were alone now; he could do whatever he wanted with her.

She jumped when he touched her, very softly, and he watched as she relaxed on her spot. 

"Are you okay?" he asked, rubbing a finger on her folds.

"Yes, sir," she nodded. 

Sam hummed positively, and watched as her little cunt squeezed around nothing, begging for his finger. 

"Tell me if anything hurts," he told her. 

Nancy nodded and he bit his lower lip when he heard a little whimper from her when moved a finger over her clit. 

Such a hot little thing. 

Sam could see her pussy swelling up a little bit, clit engorging, and wetness just starting to show on her little hole, escaping the hymen-covered entrance.

Fuck.

Sure, Sam had touched her clit once or twice, faking an accident or two, but now... now he could play with it as he wanted.

And when he did, he had the pleasure of watching her clench and gasp.

He could see how she was a little confused, squirming and looking at him. 

"Any pain?" he asked again, moving his glove-covered thumb down to her entrance, collecting wetness and going back to her clit. 

He traced two circles over her sensitive bud, waiting for an answer, and raised his head, finding her looking at his face with her lower lip between her teeth.

"No," she stuttered. "I... no. No. But..."

He moved his eyes down again, and spread her. 

"I need to check," he reminded her.

She moaned softly, and he smirked behind his mask.

Sam continued to play with her clit, watching her pussy reacting to him so perfectly. 

He wetted his finger on her hole, hearing as her moans and cries grew, legs spreading wide and hips moving, looking for more.

"Good girl," he cooed, unable to keep himself quiet. "Very good girl."

Fuck, he loved little virgins. They were always so sensitive. 

Her legs trashed as her felt her little clit throbbing under his finger, and Sam held her hips down with his free hand. 

"Doctor," she protested with a loud cry, as if unable to control herself. "I..."

"It's okay," he assured her. "It's okay, baby. Let go. It is so good for you." 

Her eyes fell on him, and her face was just curled in pleasure. 

"Sam!" Nancy cried. 

"I know, baby," he assured her. "You can trust me. I'm a doctor."

. . .

Chapter 3 to 5 (DM me to buy the PDF to the full story for just a single payment of $5. You can also subscribe to my "Space Explorer" tier on Patreon and request this as your monthly PDF).

[trektraveler]

My Hero

Summary: Doctor Sam WInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. She was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! Yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. Maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader, Doctor!Sam Winchester x You

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

Author’s Notes: I swear, every time I get sick all I want is a Winchester to come and take care of me. Is that really so much to ask?? I think not! This is my very first Sam x Reader fic! I have a few more ideas rattling around for the youngest Winchester brother, but this is decent practice. For now. Enjoy!

     Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

     “Coming, coming!”  Sam pulled t-shirt over his head as he trotted to the front door.  He’d been getting ready for bed when the insistent knocking started.

     The door swung open to a very nervous young man in a Wong’s delivery uniform.  Sam recognized him from the few times he ordered from them. 

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

     “Yeah,” he shifted on his feet, his eyes round with worry, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

     Sam’s instantly shifted into his professional mode.  He was currently an attending at Lawrence General Hospital, having just moved back a year ago from L.A.  It had been an adjustment, but a welcome one.  Big city life didn’t suit Sam at all. 

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

     “I was dropping off an order down the hall to the lady in 302 and I heard this thud behind the door and now I can’t get her to answer.  I think something’s wrong.”

     Sam was already grabbing his medical bag, “Show me.”

     302.  He knew the woman who lived there.  More or less.  They kept running into each other.  He first discovered her fighting with the soap dispenser in the laundry room.  Then again when she locked herself out of the building during a thunderstorm.  And then last week when the elevator got stuck between floors.  He always seemed to be wandering by when she needed a rescue.  She was funny, smart, accident prone, and completely adorable. 

     Sam had been working up the courage to ask her out, but something always seemed to crop up.  An extra shift at the hospital or a birthday party for a colleague.  He knew it was an excuse.  For all of his professional success, Sam was, and always had been, extremely shy.

     “Y/N?”  He knocked loudly on the closed door, then tried the handle and found it locked. 

     “Alright, stand back,” he said to Garth.  In one powerful move, Sam kicked the door in, the heel of his foot landing in just the right spot to splinter the doorjamb. 

     “Damn,” Garth blew out an impressed breath, “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

     You were laying in the foyer.  Curled on your side with your hair spread out like a halo.  A wallet sat a few inches away from outstretched fingers. 

     Sam was at your side in an instant, gingerly turning you over and searching for a pulse, “Y/N?  Can you hear me?”

     Garth hovered nearby, nerves in his voice, “Is she okay?”

     Sam ran a hand over your forehead, “She’s burning up.  Go see if you can find a washcloth and a glass of water.”

     His worry only grew when he carried you to the couch and you still didn’t come to.  He held your limp body up with one hand while he worked your hoodie off with the other, leaving you in a tank top and yoga pants.  He’d strip that off you too, if he had to.  Every inch of bare skin he touched felt like it was on fire! 

     “Why isn’t she waking up?”  Garth asked handing Sam a kitchen towel.

     “Dehydration.  With a fever this high, it can happen quick.”  Sam dipped the towel in the water filled coffee mug and bathed your face and neck.  Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded.

     You groaned, even that soft sound reverberated through your pounding head.  Everything hurt and all you wanted was to slip back into the blankness of sleep.   But it was so noisy!  Someone kept talking, like the parents in a Snoopy cartoon.  Unintelligible, insistent, and so annoying!

     Sam gently tapped your cheeks, “Y/N.  Come on, darlin.  Open your eyes for me.”

     With a bit of coaxing, you did as he asked.  Everything around you swirled and slowly came into focus.  Your head felt heavy and fell to the side, Sam was there and smiled down at you.  As a reflex, you smiled back before your fevered brain could catch up and tell you who you were looking at.

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

     Sam chuckled in relief, “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

     “You’re here.  That’s so nice… why are you here?”

     “You passed out,” he replied, pressing the cool cloth to your brow.  “Do you remember what happened?”

     You tried to search your memory, but everything was so fuzzy!  “Um, I came home from work… I was sick.  Felt really bad.  Everything hurt.  Achy and cold.  Headache.  Then I ordered soup from the place down on Main Street.  I dunno…I feel a little out of it.”

     There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your bicep that was inflating.  Where did that come from?  Sam was doing that doctor thing where they listen to you talk while taking vitals at the same time.   

     How did doctors do that?  Did they teach that in med school?  It seemed especially confusing to you as your thoughts kept skipping away and going down rabbit holes.

     Cool fingers felt under your jaw, pressing against swollen lymph nodes.  He always had such a gentleness about him.  Such grace.  Surprising for a man of his size, but he seemed to take such care with you.  Like you were the most rare, delicate creature in the world.

     Last week when you found yourself stuck in the elevator, it was Sam who answered your call.  He muscled open the doors single handed and lifted you up though the opening without breaking a sweat.  You were more than a little awe struck by his display of strength and chivalry.  If you’d had half a brain, you’d have invited him for coffee as a thank you.  As it was, you were preoccupied with being late to work.  A sadly missed opportunity with your handsome neighbor.

     “You came home from work, was that last night?”

     “Um, yeah.  Yes.  As if Mondays aren’t sucky enough.”

     Sam’s eyebrows rose, “That was two days ago.”

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

     That information had you on the move.  You sat straight up and instantly went white.  The room titled and if it weren’t for Sam’s hands steadying your shoulders, you probably would have slid right off the couch.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Not so fast,” Sam advised, forcing you to recline.

     “I gotta go call work… or… somebody.”

     “The only place you are going is to the E.R.”

     “No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

     “Y/N, listen to me.  You’re dehydrated to the point that you fainted.  Your fever is 103, that’s dangerous territory.” 

     Sam tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have it in him.  You looked so pitiful with your hair sticking to the sweat slick skin and the dark smudges under your eyes.  You were desperately sick and he wasn’t going to simply leave you without treatment.

     “I know a lot of people are scared of the doctor, but I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

     You swallowed, wincing at the feeling of knives in your throat.  “I’m not scared, I’m uninsured.  My job is new, benefits don’t kick in for thirty days.”

     Garth piped up, “You’re a doctor, can’t you just prescribe something and treat her here?”

     “It’s not that simple.  She needs to be admitted so they can get an I.V. going and get some fluids into her system.  And bring that fever under control.”

     He felt your head loll against him.  He looked down in alarm and found you’d lost consciousness again. 

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

     “Damn it,” Sam growled as he got to his feet.  He grabbed a notepad from your entry table and scribbled a list down.  “Do you know that walk-in clinic on 42nd street?”

     Garth followed him, “Yeah, I pass it on my way to work.”

     “Great.  My brother is on call there tonight, go in and ask for Dean.  Tell him it’s for me, he’ll help you.”  Sam tore off the list and thrust it into Garth’s hand, “Get everything and hurry!”

     Garth shoved the paper in his pocket, “What if they don’t believe me?  That clinic isn’t in the best part of town, junkies hassle them all the time.”

     “Dean will believe you but in case he doesn’t say Poughkeepsie.  It’s our go word, means drop everything.”

     “A secret code word, you guys must be brothers,” Garth muttered on his way out the door.

     You woke feeling warm.  Bundled up in something soft and secure.  Your eyes stayed closed as you enjoyed the luxurious feeling.  Most mornings you woke up stiff with your muscles complaining about the ancient futon you had yet to replace.  It was left over from college and the wood slats dug into your hips, but moving to a new town was expensive!  Anything like a proper mattress would have to wait until you had a few more paychecks under your belt.

     You stretched a bit, content to roll over and fall back into your dreams, but something tugged on your hand and pinched.  You frowned and tried again; it was like you were caught in a fishing net. 

     “What the hell…?”  You grumbled unhappily, determined to keep your eyes closed out of stubbornness.  You blindly felt around and found a tube and tape attached to your right hand.

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

     You weren’t in your bed.  You weren’t in your room!  Where the hell were you? 

     The dimensions matched your bedroom, but it wasn’t bare bones like yours.  This one was painted a lovely smoke grey.  Bookshelves lined one wall and a mahogany dresser matched it on the other.  The bed was the biggest you’d ever seen.  The headboard was massive and intricately carved.  The mattress was firm but yielding. 

     The bedside table housed bottles of medication, a stethoscope, a digital thermometer, and a glass of water.  You remembered being sick.  Sicker than you’d ever felt.  You remembered your boss sending you home then… nothing.  Just a blur. 

     You sat up slowly.  When the room didn’t spin, you decided to press your luck.  You pulled back the covers enough to dangle your feet over the edge.  Your toes found plush carpet.  You felt weak, but not dizzy.  And you were cold without the blankets.  Looking down you found bare legs.  You were wearing only your tank top and Wonder Woman underwear. 

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

     With a quick yank, you pulled the I.V. out and headed for the door. 

     “Yeah, Dean I know.  If I promise to wash and wax your car, will you get off my case?”

     “No way in hell you are waxing my Baby, do I need to remind you about Liza Raffaella in the eighth grade?”

     “Please don’t,” Sam groaned into the phone. 

     “It’s wax on, wax off.  Not wax on, go chat up a nerd girl for three hours while the wax bakes on in the sun!”

     “Sam?”

     Sam spun at the raspy voice behind him.  You were standing in the hall, your hand braced against the wall for balance.  You looked a little wobbly, but far better than you had in hours.

     “I gotta go,” he told his brother before ending the call.  “Y/N, hey.  How you feeling?”

     “Confused.  How did I get here and where are my clothes?”

     “Oh!”  Sam’s cheeks colored instantly as he grabbed a soft, woven throw from the back of an over-sized chair.  He draped it over your shoulders and ushered you to the sofa.

     “Sorry about that, your fever was sky high.  Needed to bring it down in a hurry.  Here, sit.”

     You sank down onto a couch that was just as comfortable as the bed you’d woken up in.  Sam disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a glass of ginger ale and some crackers.  He was rattling off something about Chinese takeout and your pants being in the laundry.  All the while he was fussing over you.  His long fingers found the pulse point on your wrist, and he produced a pen light from somewhere to check your pupils.

     After a few minutes, he realized you were staring at him, “Y/N?”

     “Sam, grateful that I am for your hospitality and bedside manner… I still don’t understand why I’m here.” 

     “Well, I figured it would be a better place for you to recover… with all the construction.”

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

     Sam rubbed the back of his neck and embarrassment turned his ears pink, “Yeah.  I ah… I kinda broke down your door.”

     “What?!”

     “You weren’t answering!  I just had a really bad feeling, and I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

     His gaze traveled your face then locked on your eyes.  “I was worried about you.”

     You looked at him, really looked.  He was beautiful, as he always was, but there was an edge of exhaustion to his features.  His five o’clock shadow was darker than you’d ever seen it.  The fine lines around his eyes and lips were etched deeper and his hazel eyes were slightly red.  Even his enviable hair was disheveled. 

     “So, you committed destruction of property to save my life?”

     “I did.”  He gave a nod, his tone teasing, “You gonna turn me in?”

     A small smile played around your lips, “Nah.  I might need your services again.  I have a habit of getting into trouble.  Nice to know I’ve got my own personal hero on call.”

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

     “We spent the entire weekend curled up in my bed, it counts.”

     “I was unconscious!”

     “Not the whole time,” Sam countered, threading his fingers through yours, “Sometimes you’d wake up.  Of course, you were delirious.  You did have some of the most creative fever dreams… what was that one about the Catholic church hiding the existence of extra-terrestrials by dressing them up like the clergy?”

     “They were hiding dinosaurs, not aliens.  Tiny dinosaurs under their creepy old lady robes.  And still, not a date.  I think you’ll find most dating experts would agree with me on this.”

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

     Sam huffed out a laugh, “Don’t be fooled by the rumors, he’s not the Casanova everyone thinks he is.”

     “I dunno, guy gets a lot of dates.”

     “First dates.  Ask him about his batting average for second dates.”

     “Oh yeah?  Got him beat, do you?”

     “Hands down.”

     Sam curled a finger under your chin and brought his lips down to meet yours.  You hummed happily as an electric spark zinged all the way down to your toes.  It was crazy that even after two years he still managed to excite you with just a touch, or a look.  You never had to doubt his feelings for you, he wore them openly and proudly.  He never missed the opportunity to hold your hand in the grocery store or to wrap his arm around your shoulders at the movies.   A kiss to the temple, a hand at the small of your back.  Every touch was filled with the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day.  Every night was filled with the heat and passion of desire that could never be sated. 

     You leaned into Sam’s side as he guided the two of you down the winding path that cut through the willows.  “So, tell me Doctor Winchester, why haven’t I been to your family’s estate before?”

     “I wouldn’t call it an estate, it’s just a few acres.”

     “I don’t care if it’s a patch of dead grass… you have horses!  Horses, Sam!  I’ve wanted to go horseback riding since I was ten.”

     “We might be able to squeeze in a lesson for you before we head home.”

     “Really?!”

     “I’ll bet you’re a natural, you’re already an expert with a riding crop,” he whispered in your ear.

     “Sam!”  You admonished him, instantly turning red, “That was a one time!”

     “Best birthday ever.  And to answer your question; you haven’t been here before because I was waiting.”

     The path curved and opened up to a decent sized pond.  A dock jutted out onto the clear, still waters and ended in an elaborate gazebo.  Painted a picturesque white and topped with a copper finial, hundreds of tiny fairy lights hung from the rafters glittering with magic and romance. 

     “Oh wow,” you breathed, following Sam down the planks.  “This is like something out of a book.  God, it’s beautiful!”

     “My parents built this place from the ground up.  Mom had this vision in her head about a pond where she could come and watch ducks.  Teach her kids to swim and fish.  So, one summer, Dad started digging.  I don’t think he even had a plan, all the neighbors thought he was crazy!  But he was stubborn and determined.  And he loved my mom more than anything.”

     You walked out to the end of the platform and leaned out on the railing.  Dragonflies danced along the surface of the water as the sun began to set and the crickets started to sing.  “He did a great job.  Did he build the gazebo too?”

     “Anniversary present,” he confirmed, joining you by the railing.  “This was my favorite spot when I was a kid.  Dean loved the garage, hanging with Dad and tearing apart trucks with the radio blasting.  I couldn’t stand the noise, so I’d come out here.  Even in the winter.”

     Suddenly, a swan flew down and landed in the middle of the water.  Graceful and noble, it glided across the water sending the slightest of ripples out in its wake.  As it turned, you could see a single black feather against the white of its tail. 

     “Oh!  I’ve never seen a swan with one black feather.”

     “He’s always had it, never could figure out why.  He showed up when I was ten and just never left.  I call him Solomon.”

     “Is it just him?  I thought swans always paired up?”  

     “Well, that’s the thing, they do have mates for life, but he showed up alone.  And I know it sounds silly, but he was mopey.  He didn’t take a lot of interest in anything; he didn’t interact with the ducks or even pay any attention to me when I tried to feed him.  He was sad.  Some animals grieve and I think he was grieving for his lost mate.”

     “Poor guy,” you murmured, watching as Sam took a packet of birdseed from his pocket and tossed a bit out on the water. 

     “When I left for college, Solomon migrated and didn’t come back in the spring.  I thought I’d seen the last of him, but then I got a call from Mom this past summer.  He was back and he brought someone with him.”

     As if on cue, a second swan swooped down and landed beside Solomon.  Pure white and just as lovely.  They looked like a postcard, gliding on the sunlit water.

     “You’re kidding!  He found another mate?  I didn’t know swans would do that!”

     “Some do, special cases.  And Solomon’s no fool, he might have been content to be alone forever, but when that right one came along, he snapped her up.”

     “That’s amazing!”  You turned to Sam with a beaming grin, but stopped short when you realized he wasn’t standing there beside you.  He was kneeling. 

     “Sam.”

     He took both of your hands in his, tipping his face back to gaze up at you with such tenderness and devotion it made your breath catch.

     “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.  I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted it to look, but the words never came.  Everything I wrote seemed inadequate.  Even the word love falls short.  It’s not enough, it’s not big enough.  Being with you is a revelation, Y/N.  You call me your hero, but baby… it’s the other way around.  You rescued me.”

     Tears had already gathered in your eyes when he pulled out a blue velvet box.  A diamond solitaire sparkled inside like a star in the sky. 

     “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the words, but I swear to show you.  To treasure you, to make your happiness my mission.  To answer your call and to love you for all my days.”

     You dropped down to your knees and tackled him.  Your arms flung around his neck, nearly knocking him over in your enthusiasm.   He caught you with a laugh and kept the two of you from tumbling off into the water.  You kissed every square inch of the face you’d loved since he first rescued you.  And you laughed.  Joy bubbled up from your heart like effervescent Champagne.

     “You astonishing,” Kiss. “Brilliant,” kiss. “Romantic,” kiss, kiss. “Beautiful,” kiss, kiss, kiss.

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

     His hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back slightly so he could look into your eyes.  He traced the curve of your face, fondly tucking your hair behind your ear.  You were always moving, always racing towards everything in life.  It was something he loved about you, your exuberance.  Your passion!  You burned so bright, his light even on the darkest days. 

     “Will you marry me?”

     Your brow creased in confusion before you realized, he didn’t actually say the words a moment ago.  You been so excited that he never got the chance. 

     “Yes,” you nodded, your forehead coming to rest against his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

     Sam slipped the ring onto your finger, “Will you look at that?  Perfect fit.”

     “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”  You shifted so that you were sitting in his lap, your hand cupped his jaw, “I should tell you up front that I tend to get into trouble, there’s a good chance that you’ll be required to rescue me from time to time.”

     “Good thing rescuing you is my second favorite activity.”

     “Second favorite?”

     “Yeah,” he murmured against the curve of your neck, “Let me show you the front runner.”

     Before long, Sam had swept you away in a haze with his deft fingers and clever tongue.  The title of Hero that you bestowed on him became a running joke through the years and then a loving nickname.  But that didn’t make it any less true.  He’d always been a hero, and now he was yours. TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetryy @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witchly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

[fandom-is-my-game]

Just Imagine...

Creaking slam of the iron door. Alarms wailing while power surges rhythmically. Beating as though the bunker is itself alive.

"This must be him," Loki calls down from over the railing. "Is there a location?"

"His presence is not exactly ethereal," you retort, "or subtle. I do not believe this is wired to register a time split," though you continue to scour the map. Loki is now across the table, hands braced on the edge, brow furrowed in concentration.

"What is that?" Sam shouts, wincing against the noise as he enters from the hallway.

"Sorry," you say absentmindedly as you wave your hand to turn off the alarm, though power continues to surge.

"Darling, we may need to--" Loki starts, unsure, but at your confidence, falters.

"I found him." You close your eyes, tensing. Your mind reaching for the small tether of such a large existence.

Sam stares, not knowing what is occurring. Loki now stands under the iron stairs, arms crossed bracing for anything.

Papers swirl. Electronics scream and brighten. Suddenly all is still and relatively normal except for the man standing to Sam's left. Sam starts, in a defensive stance as Dean also joins from the hallway holding a shotgun.

"No, he's alright. It's the Doctor," you say quickly.

"Hm, must be, wearing that outfit," Dean says ironically, while lowering his weapon. "Looks like he rolled off the set of Dead Poets Social."

"Society," Sam adds briefly.

"He's a what now?" Dean says thickly.

"Dead Poets Society," Sam clarifies to Dean's bewildered face. "Nevermind."

You shake your head with a smile, now turning to address the newcomer. Loki is already approaching, gripping the Doctor's shoulder warmly.

"Why did you lie?" you ask shortly. "I was going to find you."

"I cannot recall. It has been many centuries for me--" But your annoyed handwave makes him stop. This face, this new incarnation wants to hide. Young and seemingly jovial.

(…so this is your new ruse…)

After a sigh, "I was dying…or so I thought," the Doctor explains. "I could not put you through the loss I always endure. I know the hole it leaves."

"No," you reply simply, "you know you cannot die. You are doing this for you. Leaving everything you still have behind. You cannot restart every time!"

All the loss he just endured, and his aim was to shut out all the others that understand what he goes through. Yourself, Loki, Cas, Kisuke; the Doctor never wants to burden any of them, instead packaging a new internal resilience each time. Until we all bump into him some day in the future.

"Avoidance does not need to be part of your grieving," you say patiently. "We all have endured loss. Sometimes the same people numerous times. Still hurts just the same."

"I know," he says, hanging his head, relieved yet ashamed, "I know." He strides towards you for an embrace. A new chapter has started, but the same story still spins.

[slasher-cam]

Hi lovlies!!

Guys, thank you so much for all the request especially from the poppy playtime fandom!! I just wanted to remind you guys that I alot of other fandoms and i would love if you sent me a request from oneᡣ𐭩

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞!

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝, 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐞! 𝐃𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐬 24 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐲! 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞!

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐎𝐍𝐄: Head over to your camera roll. The last celebrity or fictional character saved to your gallery is your time-travelling companion --- are you safe? 🔮

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐖𝐎: Sneak a peek at my Time Dilation scenario chart --- fancy, right? Here’s how it works: Choose your birthstone, the last number of your birth year, and your star sign to reveal the intricacies of your journey. 🥀

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄: Share your trip and share the love! Tag any adventurous moots or followers that might like to participate!

Safe travels! 🥂

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐍𝐄! 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓!

I’ll start things off! 

Save, thriving, and happy. I trust Aragorn with my life and he totally seems the type to stay cool during a trip like this. Looks like we’re travelling to 16th century Venice to scout the library and fall in love. Oh my gosh, imagine all the books!!! Was this intentional? Maybe, possibly...

moots, assemble! *no pressure, of course!*: @starstruck-loner​ @goldencherriess @astudyinlaura @lumosouls @misaverawrites @selcouthangel @asherloki @baby-bloos @thespiritoflife @lydiablack-m @starryeddie @andthevillainshallrises @bakerstreethound @silverdaydreamer @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @classickook @lucywrites02 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @blogthebooklover @imeternallylove @fictional-hooman @waiting-for-cas-to-save-me @amplifyme @frostandflamesfanfic @mindibindi @foxmulderlovebot @space-helen @inlovewithfictionalcharacters666 @paperheartsarts @aephereal @christinasyellowflowers @natti-ice

[muchamusedaboutnothing]

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 19

Heart of a Hunter Act VII - Ch. 19

Characters: Dean x doctor!Reader, Sam Winchester

This story is Act 7 of a saga.

New to the story? Get caught up on the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

All your favorite Winchesters are alive, in spite of the curse that nearly took them from you. After coming so close to losing the only family you have left in this world, you’re taking matters into your own hands. There’s a witch to hunt.

Series Warnings:

Character injuries/sickness - Take note that no one is excluded from this.

Canon-typical violence and language.

Lots of whump.

Lots of caring for hurt characters.

Smut (18 Only. NSFW. You were warned.)

Angst.

Fluff.

Medical talk. Is that even a warning?

Image Credit: bing image search, google image search, @hallowedbecastiel , @heytheredean , @jensen-jay

Wordcount: 2236

See Author's note at the bottom please.

Chapter  19

"You guys ready to go?" you called out when you heard Sam and Dean coming down the hall.

"I think so," Sam answered, stepping into the mess hall first. "Do I look okay?" He was so adorably unsure as he gazed down at the his white and blue plaid button-up and his new jeans.

You gave him the once over and smiled up at him. "You look great, Brawny." He smiled and bent to kiss your cheek. "Want to grab the cooler?" you asked, gesturing toward it as Sam nodded and went to retrieve it.

Dean stepped up next and you looked him over, too. He had on a plaid button-up he'd left open with a simple black tee underneath. He was also wearing a new pair of jeans that were oil, grease, and bloodstain-free.

"You look handsome, too," you told him.

"Might as well disappear standing next to you, sweetheart," Dean said with a smile.

You grinned and Dean took your hand, turning you in a slow circle so he could admire the way your leggings hugged the curve of your ass, and the way the thigh-high boots made your legs go on forever. When you were facing him again, he lifted your chin with a finger, kissing you slow and sweet.

"Save it for the camera," Sam said as he brushed past you to head for the garage.

"You do know you're on the other side of the camera, right?" Dean called after him.

Dean picked up Jonah where he sat in his car seat a few feet away, and you glanced around to make sure you had everything before you followed after Sam.

You opted to sit in the backseat with your son and let Sam ride shotgun when you all piled in the car. Dean turned on some soft music and Jonah promptly fell asleep ten minutes into the drive, just as you'd hoped he would.

"He's out," Dean observed after glancing in the rearview mirror.

"I'm telling you, a nice warm bottle before a car ride," you said. "It's the magic combination."

Just shy of an hour later you'd reached your destination, or at least, as far as you could go before setting off on foot. Dean parked the car and cut the engine, and you got out and stretched as Sam grabbed the cooler again.

You grabbed the backpack with the water bladder in it and double-checked the baby’s sunscreen, pacifier, bottle, and diaper-changing stuff was all inside before you rolled up the thin blanket you'd brought along and slung it on your back. Just then Jonah woke up and started to fuss in his car seat.

Dean unbuckled him and pulled him out of it, speaking to him as he did. "We’re here, buckaroo. Come on, let's get you settled." He laid Jonah down in the backseat of the car and changed his diaper for a fresh one, snapping his onesie back up and pulling the tiny little jeans back around Jonah’s waist, and straightening his little button-up plaid shirt that was fitting of the smallest Winchester.

Sam had a baggie ready to go and caught the balled-up dirty diaper when Dean tossed it to him over the car. Sam tied it off in the bag and set it next to the front tire to wait until you returned.

Dean tucked the baby up against him snuggly as you fit the baby wrap up and over Dean's neck and shoulder. The two of you had done this enough times that you had it down to an art, and a moment later Jonah was safely swaddled against Dean's middle.

"Alrighty," Dean said. "And we're off."

There was a little game trail alongside the river, and Sam led the way with you and Dean falling in step behind him.

The river water was fresh and clean, and you couldn’t help but notice all the Rainbow Trout that were visible swimming just beneath the surface. A slight breeze caressed your skin, and the sunshine kissed your face in between the shade from the tree limbs.

"I needed this," you admitted as you walked.

"Yeah, me too," Sam agreed.

Dean nodded for you to go first when a large rock temporarily narrowed the trail. "I need to bring my pole sometime. From the look of things, the fishing oughta be great here."

“You should,” you agreed. “You don’t get to do enough fishing.”

Jonah was perfectly content to be swaddled against his father as the three of you walked along the riverbank. You found a pretty little spot where the water slowed just before a small tributary led into it. There were several large rocks near the water’s edge, big enough to comfortably sit down on, and some trees provided light shade just yards away.

“I think this is it,” you said as you all stood and gazed at the scenery.

“Yeah?” Dean asked.

You nodded. “It’s perfect.”

You set your backpack down against a rock and pulled Jonah out of the baby wrap Dean wore so Dean could remove that, as well. Sam walked around the area, judging the shadows created by his tall form, and gauging the angle of the sun in relation to the light along the riverbank.

“What do you think, Brawny? Do you agree?”

“Of course,” Sam said. “The light is perfect right now.”

And that’s how your little Winchester family photoshoot began. Using Sam’s phone, he took a bunch of different pictures of you and Dean with Jonah, you and Dean alone together - although you wondered how those would turn out as Sam wore Jonah in the baby wrap at the same time as he snapped photos - and then pictures of you holding Jonah by yourself, and Dean doing the same.

When Sam was satisfied he’d gotten shots you would love, you took the phone from him and took pictures of all three of the guys together, as well as shots of Dean and Sam together, and Sam holding Jonah by himself.

With a little finagling and a lot of laughing, you managed to prop the phone up at the spot where a little branch jutted out from a tree trunk. Using the phone’s timer, you also took several family shots of all of you together with the river babbling in the background.

By the time you’d taken your fill of pictures, you’d all worked up an appetite. You spread out the blanket on the ground, pulled a bottle out for Jonah, and sat, shielding him from the sun with the baby wrap while he drank in your arms.

Dean crouched down nearby, gazing into the water with a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Penny for your thoughts,” you offered.

He cocked his head to look at you. “Just happy to be alive, sweetheart. Happy to be here with you and Joey and Sammy. Thanks for planning all of this today.”

You smiled. “Thanks for being on board.” He chuckled softly. “What?” you asked.

“It’s just that I haven’t had my picture taken that many times since our wedding day.”

“I’m fully aware,” you said with a smirk. "We were long overdo."

“I don’t think I’d get your hopes up yet as far as photo quality,” Sam said with a laugh as he opened up the cooler to start pulling lunch out. “You haven’t seen ‘em yet.”

“I have faith in you, Brawny," you told him.

Sam chuckled again. “Save your faith for my vampire-beheading skills, or my research skills. Hell, shooting almost anything else, but shooting pictures is not my forte.”

“I think what she’s saying is beggars can’t be choosers, Sammy,” Dean added with a smirk.

“If I get my way, you’ll be getting plenty of practice from here on out,” you told Sam. “We need to do this more often.”

Sam nodded, smiling as he handed Dean a sandwich.

Dean held the sandwich out toward you. “You sure you don’t want me to take him so you can eat first?”

“You go ahead. I’ll finish giving him lunch first.”

Dean got to his feet and opened up the sandwich. He’d made several of them for your picnic lunch before leaving the bunker that morning. There were also individual snack-sized potato chip bags and bags of mini-carrots as an alternative. You couldn’t help but notice he even ate a bag of carrots himself, even though he chose to finish off a little bag of chips afterward. It was still progress, and it made you smile.

When Jonah finished his bottle, Dean took him from you and moved to the edge of the water. Sitting down on the ground and holding Jonah in his lap, he pointed out the trout that swam lazily in the water, telling Jonah what type of lure he’d try when he came back to the spot.

That night, back at the bunker, you'd pulled up the photos from the day on your laptop. Despite Sam's doubt in his photography skills, the problem didn't lie in trying to find good shots you wanted to enlarge and display on the walls, but rather in narrowing it down your selection as there were so many to choose from.

Three weeks later the pictures you'd ordered as metal prints arrived in the mail. You and Dean took Jonah for a ride into town and picked them up at the post office before driving back to the bunker.

Dean offered to feed Jonah and put him down for his nap so you could go through the metal prints and start hanging them up.

For the bunker's library, you chose to hang two shots of all four of you that you'd captured using the timer on Sam's phone. In one image you were all smiling, poised, and perfectly happy. In the other, Dean held Jonah while you'd hoped on Sam's back spider monkey-style and you'd all chosen to stick out your tongues and screw up your faces while Dean flipped the bird at the camera. Staring at the last one made you smile so wide your face hurt.

The pictures perfectly represented the line the Winchester family walked between domestic bliss and crazy-ass chaos. You wouldn't have changed a thing.

You also hung another photo in the library, this one of Sam and Dean standing together and overlooking the stream with Dean's hand resting on Sam's shoulder. They looked like they'd come straight out of a clothing ad in a Cabelas magazine. You loved it.

You took a few metal prints to Sam's room that you'd had made just for him. One was a copy of the crazy shot where you all looked like you'd lost your damn minds, and the other was a picture of Sam leaning back against a tree trunk and holding Jonah in his arms. It was peaceful, serene, and Sam's face was so full of love as he gazed at his nephew. You knew if you stared at it too long you'd be wiping back tears.

You hoped Sam would like them. He was down in the bunker's shooting range when you left the prints on his bed for him and carried the rest to the room you and Dean shared.

You hung several metal prints on the walls in your bedroom. One large print was of you and Dean up close with Jonah sandwiched between you, each kissing one of his chubby little cheeks.

You had two smaller metal prints made, one with Dean sitting next to the river on a rock with Jonah lounging in his arms, and one of you holding Jonah up towards the sky and smiling up at him.

You hung another shot Sam had somehow managed to snap when Dean dipped you back for a kiss, surprising the hell out of you.

You'd chosen a large print for a moment when Dean had pulled you close, trapping your hand over his heart with his own and giving you that sexy smirk that always makes you smile like a schoolgirl with a crush.

You were still surprised at just how perfectly the photo captured the intimate gesture you and Dean had shared over the years.

"Did he go down okay?" You asked as Dean walked into your room just then.

"He was fighting it a bit." He sat the baby monitor down on the desk. He's good now, though. Out like a light." Dean put his hands around your waist from behind, gazing at the prints that were now hung on the walls. "Wow. These turned out great."

You nodded. "They really did." You turned in his arms, gazing up at him, and he leaned down enough to kiss you.

"I don't know how you do it, sweetheart," he said. "You somehow manage to keep finding ways to make this place feel more safe and cozy than it already is."

"Family does that," you told him. "That's why Baby will always be home, too."

Dean smiled, eyes locked on the picture of him dipping you back to kiss you. The next thing you knew, one of his hands wrapped around the small of your back, the other going to the back of your head as he dipped you again, making you squeal in surprise. He cut you off with a kiss that was soft and slow and made the blood rush to your head a little more than gravity already had.

This is the end of Act VII.

Author's Note: The Heart of a Hunter series has been a labor of love. These characters have occupied my heart for years now, and I have enjoyed every second of it. This saga has also been the catalyst that brought me friendships with so many of you. I can never tell you all enough just how much I have appreciated your support for this story and my writing.

While I do have Act VIII plotted and outlined, I cannot say for sure when or if I will get to finish and post it. I've been through some big life changes in the last year and may need to focus my time on my career and family in the foreseeable future.

If I do manage to post Act VIII, I will tag those on the Heart of a Hunter tags list. Tags are open again now (details below - feel free to add yourself now or ask me to if you haven't already) so you'll be notified.

You can also find the Heart of a Hunter saga HERE ON AO3 if you'd like to bookmark or subscribe for the future. Any future Acts will be added to AO3 as well.

I do hope to finish and post Act VIII, but can't be sure what the timeframe for that would look like at this time. (The chances are high that these characters won't leave me alone and I'll be writing whenever I get a hot minute. I may surprise us all.)

I do plan to do a Q&A with Dean, our fearless Reader, and Sam very soon, so be on the watch for that. I'll tag if you if you're on the list. I'm sure you all have a lot of fun and interesting questions for our little Winchester family after everything we've all been through together.

I love you and appreciate you all! If the story touched you, please reblog the masterlist and share the reason why. Reblogs are how new readers get to experience this journey with us and join the Heart of a Hunter family. Thank you!

Act VII Masterlist.

You can find the Masterlist for the Heart of a Hunter Saga here.

Please consider supporting my writing by buying me a coffee. In my case, it’s Dr. Pepper, but a little caffeine goes a long way when it comes to writing and posting this labor of love.

Being on the Heart of a Hunter Tags is the best way to stay up to date with the updates, news, and be notified of spur of the moment Q&A sessions about the saga. Add or remove yourself from my tags HERE. Or feel free to message me to do it for you.

*HOAH Text divider by the brilliant Talesmaniac89

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[unknownfacelessfanfictions]

To all fanfiction readers out there, I have one question: What is better? Having one really long fanfic or having this fanfic split up into several books?

[aloneatpeace]

In Another Universe

Chapter 20

Mount wundagore

You float on midair with Darhold Infront of you with branches of numerous realities around you, Wong held captive by the red mist, hands tied and bloody and bruised face. Eyes closed you reach out the universe where you could dream walk, to get close to your family faster. While you still hear your subconscious reach earth 838.

Earth 838 y/n was making table as you watch, Alex and your boys watching a new movie that the boys wanted watch for a quite some time. As the variant y/n move to get more dishes you follow, feeling the presence the variant glance back but you hide behind the staircase that led to second floor of the house. An ominous feeling crept through her spin as the wind starts to get harsher, the floor felt slippery as her legs tumbled the picture of her earlier birthday seems to look at her making her breath gets shorter the lights creaked. The broth dish starts to move she take the dish her hands but the wind gets harsher and more made her almost drop it and place it on the side her breath gets shorter a massive headache that made her hunch over the front of the sink.

Shaking her head, she stands a sigh leaving her lips she unintentionally glance at window to see a reflection of her but in different clothes, she doesn’t look like her at all even the though the facial features are same. She can see its not her its someone else someone more cruel, cold hearted, she seems to glare at her.

 She tries to move but her feet kept her an excruciating pain exploded in her chest she closes her eyes face pinched at the pained expression, suddenly everything went quite as she opens her eyes a red hue shine in her iris.

You sigh as you able to get inside your variant.

“Mom, are you alright?” a small voice called you from behind.

“yeah” you slowly turn to see your son Charlie stand there with a worried look on his face. At the sight of him you melt inside. He slowly walks towards you as you watch with adoration.

He stands Infront of you kneel before him, his put his little hands on your forehead puzzled pout on his lips when he feels no temperature but he heard you wince. “You alright mom?”

You smile wholeheartedly a tenderness that only received for your boys you run your hands through his hair “I'm alright sweetheart”

He hums satisfied with the answer he turns his head “get ready I’m coming with mom”

“Just come then” Oliver impatient voice yell back

Charlie takes your hands in his “come on mom” you let him pull you wherever he wants with a soft smile on your face.

As you get to the table Oliver and Alex stands beside a large cake on the table Charlie run towards them, together they start to yell happy birthday to you. The boys try to copy their fathers voice Alex smiley smile at there antics as he sings wishes to you.

This what it like to leave with them.

  One of the warriors slowly walk towards Wong, to avoided get caught by the scarlet witch. Wong left his head up weakly “you are alive “

The witch node “but not many other have lost”

“Set me free, I need to destroy the book”

“no. it’s can’t be you” she softly whispers before caring his cheeks, she silently moves towards the darkhold that hover the air, unsheathing the knife that hidden in her robes.

“NO, sara no”

She grabbed the darkhold and stab it forcefully with the knife.

The connection to dream walk break making both you and earth 838 you fall. In earth 838 Alex and your boys run towards shouting your name in concern at the sudden fall. You look up from the kneeling ground to get the boys, your variant also kneels to comfort the worried boys.

“Boy…... boys ……...”

“MOM…”

“Love are you alright?” Their voice echoes in your head as faint connection still there before it all lost.

Sara body burned as she destroyed the darkhold, you hastily grab the book tears threating to fall a sob screaming inside you.

Quickly the saddens was replace by furious anger, glaring at Wong you throw him by blasting a red mist to the destroyed temple front.

“I need the darkhold spell’s, you’re the sorcerer supreme. Tell me what you know”

Wong spit out the blood “you’re gonna have to kill me, witch”

You shake your head “no not you, them” you lift your hands and the survived warriors held in midair as you bind them with red magic binds, they squirm in pain whimpers and pained plea for life reach Wong’s ear

“y/n stop. y/n please”

You flick your wrist more pain shoot through them making the scream for life. Seeing them in pain Wong give in

“The darkhold was just copy”

You stop “a copy”

“Legends speaks of a mountain with the wretched spells you seek carved into its wall. Its is where darkhold was transcribed. Mount wundagore, Wanda Maximoff mother of all witches and witchcraft worshiped there it centuries ago”

“no one survived the journey, no one is welcomed there”

You lift a finger letting the dead man’s sling ring fly and throw it to Wong “perhaps we will the exception”

Sam, dean and Klaus was handcuffed and an electric device that shocked them was placed on their neck. America stands next to them with a guilty look her face, they are put in glass box all they don’t remember how they got here when they wake up this how they found themselves. the door of the lab and a guy walk in Sam’s and dean eyed widen “CAS?”

The cas in question give them a blank questioning look dean gulp he just saw him getting vanished because of you. “This is a highly secure research facility you three will be tested and will be in surveillance under us”

“I am no lab rat to be tested” Klaus seethes

“What you mean? cas?”

“I am not your cas as you speak of and test are being done because you are unwelcomed here traveling from one universe to another is not a normal thing. We need to run some test to identify you”

“Wait… what earth are we on/” Sam asks

“This is earth 838” the monitor near beep alerting cas “he walks towards the system transferring the data to his tablet “let’s take look, you all are from earth 616.”

“How…. How do you know all about this how are you even here working for whatever this guy is? “Dean stutter out

“Well……. I’m here because something you both did” cas said walk towards them “it was not like that; you both brought a massive apocalypse here every dead and living in affected by that not just that every creature of hell was unleashed “

 “What did we do?” Sam asks hesitantly

“You brought the mother of all monsters Echidna”

Dean shrug “but we made it right”

Cas tilt his head side “no the illuminate did”

“So where are we? “Sam point at Klaus “where is he… the other him”

“Well Klaus and every vampire that broke the law was killed” Klaus glare at cas “Sam and dean died during the battle. That’s how I got this job “

“Great we all dead then”

A message pop in cas tablet as Ultron enter the lab “now you will be meeting the illuminate

 “So, is this illuminate we speaking are they bad guys or good?” dean glance at Ultron warily

America watches as the guys were walked out Sam turns to cas “take care of that kid” he node at America “its going to be okey”.

The winds blow harshly on the mountain tops as orange glow portals open Wong step out of it behind from him you step out. The wundagore stand proud and tall carved with stones “you couldn’t portal us up there”

“My magic can only take us here; master of mystic’s arts is not welcomed here. It’s a forbidden ground.”

You thrust your hands to side lifting yourself above as we as Wong and levitate to the temple, as you enter you could see carving of symbols and spells on stones some of the pillars have broken missing parts.

“Eons ago, the first demon, chthon, carved his dark magic into the tomb “he speaks as you taken the tomb. Some of the stones fall down but you and Wong continue walking after casting final glance at behind “there is no telling what soulless monstrosities lies within”

You let the red mist lit the fire cauldron in the corners all around when you lit one behind Wong, a creature that reside in the tomb stalk towards you with loud roar, Wong summon shields to defend him as one more come and when the last giant creature revels itself you levitate yourself to on to the stone table.

Your breath heavy and prepare yourself for the fight as three close the distance and both to your and Wong’s surprise they kneel Infront of you holding left hand to the right side of them “they’ve been waiting for me”

You look down at Wong glancing back at the statue that oddly similar to you “this isn’t a tomb” the red glow on your palm “it’s a throne”

Sam, dean and Klaus is leading to the illuminate by the Ultron’s, hands cuffed. They get pushed into the room.

“Sam Winchester dean Winchester and Klaus Mikaelson, you are now called before the illuminati. I, Baron Karl Mordo, the sorcerer supreme, do hereby. Captain carter the first avenger, Blackagar Boltagon”

“You all bunch of comic dudes” deans’ eyes wide looking at them “I thought it was captain America?” Sam sigh at his brother comment. “Hidigy hidithere” he said lifting his hands

Karl gives him a look before continuing “captain marvel defender of the cosmos” from a blue teleportation light square a guy turns “and the smartest man alive Reed Richards of the fantastic four”

Dean turns to Sam with a frow “your title is gone”

“Hello dean”

“Fantastic four? Didn’t you guys’ chart in the 60’s”

“Dean just …. Just shut up” Sam said to his brother in a whisper

“I’m sorry, is this a joke to you?” the captain marvel asks dean already not pleased with his behavior

“Well, there’s a guy over there with a fork on his head. So, yeah, a little bit.” Dean answer beside him Klaus chuckle at that 

Black bolt glare at the two and gesture with his hands to keep their mouth shut

“Be grateful black bolt doesn’t engage you in a conversation” captain carter state

“Why does he have bad breath?”

“This dean is even more arrogant than ours” captain America share a smile with captain marvel

“No, just more alive”

Captain marvel recounter “for now”

“I am sorry for their behalf” Sam speaks up finally “we don’t want any trouble. Trust us we don’t even know how we got here. We were just trying to a help a kid”

Reed smile at Sam “Sam, your arrival here confuses and destabilize reality. The larger the footprint you leave behind the greater the risk pf an incursion”

“Incursion?”

“An incursion occurs when the boundary between two universe erodes and they collide destroying one or both entirely” reed tell them in all seriousness

 “The illuminate created to make difficult decisions that no one else could. Today, we’re here to determine what to do with you all and the child” captain carter state

“So, before we vote, if you got anything serious to say, now’s the time” captain marvel says

“Yeah, I do.” Dean walk towards them “if its incursion you’re worried about. Do you seriously think we are a bigger threat than the scarlet witch?”

With great confidence and determination captain marvel look said “oh, we can handle your little witch if she decides to dream walk”

“No. no, you cannot. Not unless you give us the book of vishanti” Sam firmly asserts

“We appreciate your concern, Sam but it’s not the scarlet witch that we fear, from our greatest danger to the multiverse, it turns out is Sam Winchester “

Dean frown as well Sam at the statement wondering what he did wrong

“He what did he do?” Klaus speak for the first time he was trying process everything that happened last couple of hours ago and he didn’t want to talk to the people that massacre his species.

“We should tell him the truth” a new voice said, everyone turns to the voice fancy wheelchair come in the view

“Our final member, professor Charles Xavier”

“What truth?” dean asks aggravated 

“that’s not how our Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester died”.

Series masterlist

Not really satisfied but i think I like it .

[thelibrarylesstrektraveled]

My Hero

Summary: Doctor Sam WInchester had fallen hard for the woman living just down the hall. She was easily the most adorable and the most accident-prone creature he had ever met! Yet for all the times he came to her rescue, he was too shy to make a move. Maybe he could work up his courage, if he got just one more chance...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader, Sam x Reader, Doctor!Sam Winchester x You

Characters: Sam Winchester, Reader, Garth, Dean Winchester

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, fluff

One Shot

Word Count: 3700

Author’s Notes: I swear, every time I get sick all I want is a Winchester to come and take care of me. Is that really so much to ask?? I think not! This is my very first Sam x Reader fic! I have a few more ideas rattling around for the youngest Winchester brother, but this is decent practice. For now. Enjoy!

Bang.  Bang.  Bang.

     “Coming, coming!”  Sam pulled t-shirt over his head as he trotted to the front door.  He’d been getting ready for bed when the insistent knocking started.

     The door swung open to a very nervous young man in a Wong’s delivery uniform.  Sam recognized him from the few times he ordered from them. 

     “Hey, its Garth, right?”

     “Yeah,” he shifted on his feet, his eyes round with worry, “You’re a doctor, aren’t you?”

     Sam’s instantly shifted into his professional mode.  He was currently an attending at Lawrence General Hospital, having just moved back a year ago from L.A.  It had been an adjustment, but a welcome one.  Big city life didn’t suit Sam at all. 

     “I am.  What’s going on?’

     “I was dropping off an order down the hall to the lady in 302 and I heard this thud behind the door and now I can’t get her to answer.  I think something’s wrong.”

     Sam was already grabbing his medical bag, “Show me.”

     302.  He knew the woman who lived there.  More or less.  They kept running into each other.  He first discovered her fighting with the soap dispenser in the laundry room.  Then again when she locked herself out of the building during a thunderstorm.  And then last week when the elevator got stuck between floors.  He always seemed to be wandering by when she needed a rescue.  She was funny, smart, accident prone, and completely adorable. 

     Sam had been working up the courage to ask her out, but something always seemed to crop up.  An extra shift at the hospital or a birthday party for a colleague.  He knew it was an excuse.  For all of his professional success, Sam was, and always had been, extremely shy.

     “Y/N?”  He knocked loudly on the closed door, then tried the handle and found it locked. 

     “Alright, stand back,” he said to Garth.  In one powerful move, Sam kicked the door in, the heel of his foot landing in just the right spot to splinter the doorjamb. 

     “Damn,” Garth blew out an impressed breath, “You aren’t even wearing shoes.”

     You were laying in the foyer.  Curled on your side with your hair spread out like a halo.  A wallet sat a few inches away from outstretched fingers. 

     Sam was at your side in an instant, gingerly turning you over and searching for a pulse, “Y/N?  Can you hear me?”

     Garth hovered nearby, nerves in his voice, “Is she okay?”

     Sam ran a hand over your forehead, “She’s burning up.  Go see if you can find a washcloth and a glass of water.”

     His worry only grew when he carried you to the couch and you still didn’t come to.  He held your limp body up with one hand while he worked your hoodie off with the other, leaving you in a tank top and yoga pants.  He’d strip that off you too, if he had to.  Every inch of bare skin he touched felt like it was on fire! 

     “Why isn’t she waking up?”  Garth asked handing Sam a kitchen towel.

     “Dehydration.  With a fever this high, it can happen quick.”  Sam dipped the towel in the water filled coffee mug and bathed your face and neck.  Sure enough, his efforts were rewarded.

     You groaned, even that soft sound reverberated through your pounding head.  Everything hurt and all you wanted was to slip back into the blankness of sleep.   But it was so noisy!  Someone kept talking, like the parents in a Snoopy cartoon.  Unintelligible, insistent, and so annoying!

     Sam gently tapped your cheeks, “Y/N.  Come on, darlin.  Open your eyes for me.”

     With a bit of coaxing, you did as he asked.  Everything around you swirled and slowly came into focus.  Your head felt heavy and fell to the side, Sam was there and smiled down at you.  As a reflex, you smiled back before your fevered brain could catch up and tell you who you were looking at.

     “Hey… it’s my hero.”

     Sam chuckled in relief, “Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty.”

     “You’re here.  That’s so nice… why are you here?”

     “You passed out,” he replied, pressing the cool cloth to your brow.  “Do you remember what happened?”

     You tried to search your memory, but everything was so fuzzy!  “Um, I came home from work… I was sick.  Felt really bad.  Everything hurt.  Achy and cold.  Headache.  Then I ordered soup from the place down on Main Street.  I dunno…I feel a little out of it.”

     There was a blood pressure cuff wrapped around your bicep that was inflating.  Where did that come from?  Sam was doing that doctor thing where they listen to you talk while taking vitals at the same time.   

     How did doctors do that?  Did they teach that in med school?  It seemed especially confusing to you as your thoughts kept skipping away and going down rabbit holes.

     Cool fingers felt under your jaw, pressing against swollen lymph nodes.  He always had such a gentleness about him.  Such grace.  Surprising for a man of his size, but he seemed to take such care with you.  Like you were the most rare, delicate creature in the world.

     Last week when you found yourself stuck in the elevator, it was Sam who answered your call.  He muscled open the doors single handed and lifted you up though the opening without breaking a sweat.  You were more than a little awe struck by his display of strength and chivalry.  If you’d had half a brain, you’d have invited him for coffee as a thank you.  As it was, you were preoccupied with being late to work.  A sadly missed opportunity with your handsome neighbor.

     “You came home from work, was that last night?”

     “Um, yeah.  Yes.  As if Mondays aren’t sucky enough.”

     Sam’s eyebrows rose, “That was two days ago.”

     “What?”

     “Today’s Wednesday.”

     That information had you on the move.  You sat straight up and instantly went white.  The room titled and if it weren’t for Sam’s hands steadying your shoulders, you probably would have slid right off the couch.

     “Whoa, whoa, whoa.  Not so fast,” Sam advised, forcing you to recline.

     “I gotta go call work… or… somebody.”

     “The only place you are going is to the E.R.”

     “No, I can’t go to the hospital.”

     “Y/N, listen to me.  You’re dehydrated to the point that you fainted.  Your fever is 103, that’s dangerous territory.” 

     Sam tried to be stern, but he just didn’t have it in him.  You looked so pitiful with your hair sticking to the sweat slick skin and the dark smudges under your eyes.  You were desperately sick and he wasn’t going to simply leave you without treatment.

     “I know a lot of people are scared of the doctor, but I promise I’ll be right there with you.”

     You swallowed, wincing at the feeling of knives in your throat.  “I’m not scared, I’m uninsured.  My job is new, benefits don’t kick in for thirty days.”

     Garth piped up, “You’re a doctor, can’t you just prescribe something and treat her here?”

     “It’s not that simple.  She needs to be admitted so they can get an I.V. going and get some fluids into her system.  And bring that fever under control.”

     He felt your head loll against him.  He looked down in alarm and found you’d lost consciousness again. 

     “Y/N?  Wake up, Y/N!” 

     This time no amount of effort would bring you around. 

     “Damn it,” Sam growled as he got to his feet.  He grabbed a notepad from your entry table and scribbled a list down.  “Do you know that walk-in clinic on 42nd street?”

     Garth followed him, “Yeah, I pass it on my way to work.”

     “Great.  My brother is on call there tonight, go in and ask for Dean.  Tell him it’s for me, he’ll help you.”  Sam tore off the list and thrust it into Garth’s hand, “Get everything and hurry!”

     Garth shoved the paper in his pocket, “What if they don’t believe me?  That clinic isn’t in the best part of town, junkies hassle them all the time.”

     “Dean will believe you but in case he doesn’t say Poughkeepsie.  It’s our go word, means drop everything.”

     “A secret code word, you guys must be brothers,” Garth muttered on his way out the door.

     You woke feeling warm.  Bundled up in something soft and secure.  Your eyes stayed closed as you enjoyed the luxurious feeling.  Most mornings you woke up stiff with your muscles complaining about the ancient futon you had yet to replace.  It was left over from college and the wood slats dug into your hips, but moving to a new town was expensive!  Anything like a proper mattress would have to wait until you had a few more paychecks under your belt.

     You stretched a bit, content to roll over and fall back into your dreams, but something tugged on your hand and pinched.  You frowned and tried again; it was like you were caught in a fishing net. 

     “What the hell…?”  You grumbled unhappily, determined to keep your eyes closed out of stubbornness.  You blindly felt around and found a tube and tape attached to your right hand.

     Your eyes popped open.  An I.V.?

     You weren’t in your bed.  You weren’t in your room!  Where the hell were you? 

     The dimensions matched your bedroom, but it wasn’t bare bones like yours.  This one was painted a lovely smoke grey.  Bookshelves lined one wall and a mahogany dresser matched it on the other.  The bed was the biggest you’d ever seen.  The headboard was massive and intricately carved.  The mattress was firm but yielding. 

     The bedside table housed bottles of medication, a stethoscope, a digital thermometer, and a glass of water.  You remembered being sick.  Sicker than you’d ever felt.  You remembered your boss sending you home then… nothing.  Just a blur. 

     You sat up slowly.  When the room didn’t spin, you decided to press your luck.  You pulled back the covers enough to dangle your feet over the edge.  Your toes found plush carpet.  You felt weak, but not dizzy.  And you were cold without the blankets.  Looking down you found bare legs.  You were wearing only your tank top and Wonder Woman underwear. 

     Fuck.  Where the hell are my clothes?!

     With a quick yank, you pulled the I.V. out and headed for the door. 

     “Yeah, Dean I know.  If I promise to wash and wax your car, will you get off my case?”

     “No way in hell you are waxing my Baby, do I need to remind you about Liza Raffaella in the eighth grade?”

     “Please don’t,” Sam groaned into the phone. 

     “It’s wax on, wax off.  Not wax on, go chat up a nerd girl for three hours while the wax bakes on in the sun!”

     “Sam?”

     Sam spun at the raspy voice behind him.  You were standing in the hall, your hand braced against the wall for balance.  You looked a little wobbly, but far better than you had in hours.

     “I gotta go,” he told his brother before ending the call.  “Y/N, hey.  How you feeling?”

     “Confused.  How did I get here and where are my clothes?”

     “Oh!”  Sam’s cheeks colored instantly as he grabbed a soft, woven throw from the back of an over-sized chair.  He draped it over your shoulders and ushered you to the sofa.

     “Sorry about that, your fever was sky high.  Needed to bring it down in a hurry.  Here, sit.”

     You sank down onto a couch that was just as comfortable as the bed you’d woken up in.  Sam disappeared into the kitchen then returned with a glass of ginger ale and some crackers.  He was rattling off something about Chinese takeout and your pants being in the laundry.  All the while he was fussing over you.  His long fingers found the pulse point on your wrist, and he produced a pen light from somewhere to check your pupils.

     After a few minutes, he realized you were staring at him, “Y/N?”

     “Sam, grateful that I am for your hospitality and bedside manner… I still don’t understand why I’m here.” 

     “Well, I figured it would be a better place for you to recover… with all the construction.”

     Now you were really confused, “Construction?”

     Sam rubbed the back of his neck and embarrassment turned his ears pink, “Yeah.  I ah… I kinda broke down your door.”

     “What?!”

     “You weren’t answering!  I just had a really bad feeling, and I would never have forgiven myself if something happened to you.”

     His gaze traveled your face then locked on your eyes.  “I was worried about you.”

     You looked at him, really looked.  He was beautiful, as he always was, but there was an edge of exhaustion to his features.  His five o’clock shadow was darker than you’d ever seen it.  The fine lines around his eyes and lips were etched deeper and his hazel eyes were slightly red.  Even his enviable hair was disheveled. 

     “So, you committed destruction of property to save my life?”

     “I did.”  He gave a nod, his tone teasing, “You gonna turn me in?”

     A small smile played around your lips, “Nah.  I might need your services again.  I have a habit of getting into trouble.  Nice to know I’ve got my own personal hero on call.”

     “You call, I’ll come running.”

Two Years Later:

     “That was not our first date!”

     “We spent the entire weekend curled up in my bed, it counts.”

     “I was unconscious!”

     “Not the whole time,” Sam countered, threading his fingers through yours, “Sometimes you’d wake up.  Of course, you were delirious.  You did have some of the most creative fever dreams… what was that one about the Catholic church hiding the existence of extra-terrestrials by dressing them up like the clergy?”

     “They were hiding dinosaurs, not aliens.  Tiny dinosaurs under their creepy old lady robes.  And still, not a date.  I think you’ll find most dating experts would agree with me on this.”

    “Dating experts?”

     “Your brother.”

     Sam huffed out a laugh, “Don’t be fooled by the rumors, he’s not the Casanova everyone thinks he is.”

     “I dunno, guy gets a lot of dates.”

     “First dates.  Ask him about his batting average for second dates.”

     “Oh yeah?  Got him beat, do you?”

     “Hands down.”

     Sam curled a finger under your chin and brought his lips down to meet yours.  You hummed happily as an electric spark zinged all the way down to your toes.  It was crazy that even after two years he still managed to excite you with just a touch, or a look.  You never had to doubt his feelings for you, he wore them openly and proudly.  He never missed the opportunity to hold your hand in the grocery store or to wrap his arm around your shoulders at the movies.   A kiss to the temple, a hand at the small of your back.  Every touch was filled with the warmth of the sun on a summer’s day.  Every night was filled with the heat and passion of desire that could never be sated. 

     You leaned into Sam’s side as he guided the two of you down the winding path that cut through the willows.  “So, tell me Doctor Winchester, why haven’t I been to your family’s estate before?”

     “I wouldn’t call it an estate, it’s just a few acres.”

     “I don’t care if it’s a patch of dead grass… you have horses!  Horses, Sam!  I’ve wanted to go horseback riding since I was ten.”

     “We might be able to squeeze in a lesson for you before we head home.”

     “Really?!”

     “I’ll bet you’re a natural, you’re already an expert with a riding crop,” he whispered in your ear.

     “Sam!”  You admonished him, instantly turning red, “That was a one time!”

     “Best birthday ever.  And to answer your question; you haven’t been here before because I was waiting.”

     The path curved and opened up to a decent sized pond.  A dock jutted out onto the clear, still waters and ended in an elaborate gazebo.  Painted a picturesque white and topped with a copper finial, hundreds of tiny fairy lights hung from the rafters glittering with magic and romance. 

     “Oh wow,” you breathed, following Sam down the planks.  “This is like something out of a book.  God, it’s beautiful!”

     “My parents built this place from the ground up.  Mom had this vision in her head about a pond where she could come and watch ducks.  Teach her kids to swim and fish.  So, one summer, Dad started digging.  I don’t think he even had a plan, all the neighbors thought he was crazy!  But he was stubborn and determined.  And he loved my mom more than anything.”

     You walked out to the end of the platform and leaned out on the railing.  Dragonflies danced along the surface of the water as the sun began to set and the crickets started to sing.  “He did a great job.  Did he build the gazebo too?”

     “Anniversary present,” he confirmed, joining you by the railing.  “This was my favorite spot when I was a kid.  Dean loved the garage, hanging with Dad and tearing apart trucks with the radio blasting.  I couldn’t stand the noise, so I’d come out here.  Even in the winter.”

     Suddenly, a swan flew down and landed in the middle of the water.  Graceful and noble, it glided across the water sending the slightest of ripples out in its wake.  As it turned, you could see a single black feather against the white of its tail. 

     “Oh!  I’ve never seen a swan with one black feather.”

     “He’s always had it, never could figure out why.  He showed up when I was ten and just never left.  I call him Solomon.”

     “Is it just him?  I thought swans always paired up?”  

     “Well, that’s the thing, they do have mates for life, but he showed up alone.  And I know it sounds silly, but he was mopey.  He didn’t take a lot of interest in anything; he didn’t interact with the ducks or even pay any attention to me when I tried to feed him.  He was sad.  Some animals grieve and I think he was grieving for his lost mate.”

     “Poor guy,” you murmured, watching as Sam took a packet of birdseed from his pocket and tossed a bit out on the water. 

     “When I left for college, Solomon migrated and didn’t come back in the spring.  I thought I’d seen the last of him, but then I got a call from Mom this past summer.  He was back and he brought someone with him.”

     As if on cue, a second swan swooped down and landed beside Solomon.  Pure white and just as lovely.  They looked like a postcard, gliding on the sunlit water.

     “You’re kidding!  He found another mate?  I didn’t know swans would do that!”

     “Some do, special cases.  And Solomon’s no fool, he might have been content to be alone forever, but when that right one came along, he snapped her up.”

     “That’s amazing!”  You turned to Sam with a beaming grin, but stopped short when you realized he wasn’t standing there beside you.  He was kneeling. 

     “Sam.”

     He took both of your hands in his, tipping his face back to gaze up at you with such tenderness and devotion it made your breath catch.

     “I’ve been thinking about this moment for a long time.  I knew what I wanted to do and how I wanted it to look, but the words never came.  Everything I wrote seemed inadequate.  Even the word love falls short.  It’s not enough, it’s not big enough.  Being with you is a revelation, Y/N.  You call me your hero, but baby… it’s the other way around.  You rescued me.”

     Tears had already gathered in your eyes when he pulled out a blue velvet box.  A diamond solitaire sparkled inside like a star in the sky. 

     “I don’t know if I’ll ever have the words, but I swear to show you.  To treasure you, to make your happiness my mission.  To answer your call and to love you for all my days.”

     You dropped down to your knees and tackled him.  Your arms flung around his neck, nearly knocking him over in your enthusiasm.   He caught you with a laugh and kept the two of you from tumbling off into the water.  You kissed every square inch of the face you’d loved since he first rescued you.  And you laughed.  Joy bubbled up from your heart like effervescent Champagne.

     “You astonishing,” Kiss. “Brilliant,” kiss. “Romantic,” kiss, kiss. “Beautiful,” kiss, kiss, kiss.

     “Y/N… baby…”

     “Yes?” Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss.

     His hands wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you back slightly so he could look into your eyes.  He traced the curve of your face, fondly tucking your hair behind your ear.  You were always moving, always racing towards everything in life.  It was something he loved about you, your exuberance.  Your passion!  You burned so bright, his light even on the darkest days. 

     “Will you marry me?”

     Your brow creased in confusion before you realized, he didn’t actually say the words a moment ago.  You been so excited that he never got the chance. 

     “Yes,” you nodded, your forehead coming to rest against his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

     Sam slipped the ring onto your finger, “Will you look at that?  Perfect fit.”

     “Guess that means you’re stuck with me now.”  You shifted so that you were sitting in his lap, your hand cupped his jaw, “I should tell you up front that I tend to get into trouble, there’s a good chance that you’ll be required to rescue me from time to time.”

     “Good thing rescuing you is my second favorite activity.”

     “Second favorite?”

     “Yeah,” he murmured against the curve of your neck, “Let me show you the front runner.”

     Before long, Sam had swept you away in a haze with his deft fingers and clever tongue.  The title of Hero that you bestowed on him became a running joke through the years and then a loving nickname.  But that didn’t make it any less true.  He’d always been a hero, and now he was yours. TAGLIST @deans-baby-momma @muchamusedaboutnothing @peterpangirl21 @ficbreaks @teresa-67 @sacriceria @verytoadpapersoul @heartbreak-of-a-marauder @savspersonalproperty @deanwanddamons @jenwinchester40 @perpetualabsurdity @starryeyeseunbyul @sexyvixen7 @katsbratsupernaturalwhore @agirlwithdemonblood @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @imthedoctorlove @roonyxx @smellingofpoetryy @deanwinchesterswitch @thinkinghardhardlythinking @pink-sparkly-witchly-witch @barewithme02 @deadlynightshadeindustries @jc-winchester @mrswhozeewhatsis @kinderousmaster @lyarr24 @aphorism-001 @onlinecemetery @allonsy-yesiwill @myeagletoadmaker @panicking-outside-the-disco @haylie-spnfam4evr @lauraashley93 @foxyjwls007 @bluedragonflylady @foxyjwls007

[nightfang22]

Masterlists of All My Work

Updated 08/02/2024

Requests are OPEN!

Hazbin Hotel:

Alastor (NO SMUT)

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Angel Dust

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

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Lucifer

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Daddy,I'm A Zombie:

Gonner

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Smut

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One of Us Is Lying:

Simon Kelleher

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Smut

-Kinktober Day 1:"Let me see those eyes."

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Wayne:

Wayne McCullough

Blurbs

Smut

-Virgin Lovers

Imagines

Series

Misc.

IT:

Patrick Hockstetter

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

-Patrick's Princess Part One

-Patrick's Princess Part Two

-Patrick's Princess Part Three

Misc.

John Doe+:

John Doe

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Homestuck:

Dave Strider

Blurbs

-DJ Dave

-Dave x Male!Reader HCs

Smut

Imagines

-Simple Paradise

Series

Misc.

Sollux Captor

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Mituna Captor

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Karkat Vantas

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kankri Vantas

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Stranger Things:

Eddie Munson

Blurbs

-Blurb One

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Gareth Emerson

Blurbs

-Blurb One

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Honor Society:

Michael Dipnicky

Blurbs

-Blurb One

-Blurb Two

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Creepypasta:

Jeff The Killer

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Ben Drowned

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Eyeless Jack

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Ticci Toby

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Adventure Time:

Marshall Lee

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

The Good Doctor:

Shaun Murphy

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Heathers:

Jason Dean

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Your Boyfriend:

Peter

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Eddsworld:

Tord

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter One

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Two

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Three

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Four

-The Norski and the Themby Chapter Five

Misc.

Tom

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

SallyFace:

Sal

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Larry

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

South Park:

Kenny McCormick

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

-Get Angry

We Need To Talk About Kevin:

Kevin Khatchadourian

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

American Horror Story:

Tate Langdon

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kit Walker

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kyle Spencer

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Jimmy Darling

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Kai Anderson

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Criminal Minds:

Spencer Reid

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

My Hero Academia:

Katsuki Bakugo

Blurbs

-Blurb One

Smut

Imagines

-Revenge Porn

Series

Misc.

Izuku Midoriya

Blurbs

-Tattoo Artist Izuku

Smut

Imagines

-Bite Of Fate

-Sweat and Lace

Series

Misc.

Shoto Todoroki

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Eijiro Kirishima

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Hitoshi Shinsou

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Denki Kaminari

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Hanta Sero

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Dabi

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

Series

Misc.

Shouta Aizawa

Blurbs

Smut

Imagines

-Can't Erase Heartbreak

-Can't Erase Heartbreak Part 2

Series

Misc.

[hailucy]

WHAT SHOULD I WRITE???? REQUESTS PLEASE!!!!

characters and rules for requests