Sneezy Dean Variety Pack (Supernatural, M)

[Tari]

Ohh..... GOD!! I am so going to hell for this, but those pics were so SEXY!! And the drabbles..... *wibbles and melts*

[Lady Blessington]

Hey, soooo, this is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever posted. I'm not sure if anybody else will even enjoy it. Please feel free to not. But I didn't want to just waste this sneezy Dean, and I figured probably somebody would get something out of it. In Supernatural-land, I usually identify with Dean, and that's, totally enough. But I decided to try an experiment, and see what would happen if I inserted myself and made myself interact with Dean. This is a big no-no in fanfiction land and is known as Mary-Suing. Forgive me? Also this arose as part of the writing practice I've been making myself do this month, and is, I don't know. It's really just, me fantasizing, and the format reflects that, so, arghghhh. OK. Oh and there are two separate pieces, from two different days' writing practices.

Sneezy Dean, and me, in a room. Here we go.

What's the situation? He's a friend of mine? He just walks into my apartment, knocks and lets himself in, calls "Hey" around the front door and then saunters in here to the living room, still wearing his leather jacket with the collar popped? Was I expecting him? Maybe I knew he might be over.

He rubs his hands like they're cold from outside. They look red and chapped. He holds them out and looks at me and says, "Aren't you gonna offer me a drink?" And then his face screws up and his breath hitches - gasp - gasp - "EUHHH-shuh!"

Poor honey!

He's sneezed vaguely inward, vaguely in toward his body, his hands sort of hovering, arms sort of protecting the sneeze but not actually catching it. He straightens up, doesn't make a sound, that faraway look still in his eyes, and then he grimaces, eyebrows twisting up, pulls in another halting breath and "RRRR-hrr!"

Now he pauses again, assessing, and then relaxes. A hand comes up to wipe his nose and he sniffles.

"Bless you."

He shrugs off his coat, throws it onto the chair. Stands there looking at me, expectant. His nose is flushed red from the sneezing.

"Come with me to the kitchen," I'll tell him, and his eyes will be all sparkly and curious, looking at mine. "Choose your weapon." And then I'll hear his footsteps, the old hardwood creaking under him as he follows me down the hall. Or will I? Maybe Dean walks quietly all the time. Maybe he's just used to it. Maybe there are no footfalls to hear, just the squeaks. Or maybe he knows my hallway well enough that he can step over the noisy parts.

In the kitchen I put on the kettle, first thing. Fill it up, plug it in on the stove because he's standing by the other plug, the plug I usually use. Then I turn to him and see his eyes are a little crossed, his nose a little wrinkled. He's not breathing.

Gasp - gasp - "ETCHCHCH-uh! HRRRRSSHSH! Huh-TCHHOOO!"

He's sneezing into the cuff of his button-up shirt now, containing himself better. Maybe because he's expecting the sneezes, or maybe because we're closer together.

He snuffles into his wrist, straightens up and gives me a look that's... wary? Disappointed? Displeased for sure. And searching.

"Hang on." I move closer to him, then duck past into the bathroom, and get him a roll of toilet paper. Then I'm back beside him, close enough to smell the fresh air on him from the clear black night outside. "Here."

He takes the toilet paper and thanks me, softly, really softly, but I hear. He unwinds some of it, rolling it around his hand, and then he rips it off and blows. He's got a lot in there and it takes a few tries to get it all out, loud gurgles and new sections of paper produced. Just when he's sounding empty, he takes a huge breath in and sneezes so hard it doubles him over, right into the mass of tissue paper that he's holding over his nose with both hands, fingers up along either side of his nose.

"HUHHHHSSHSHSHUH!"

He wipes at his nose, hard and thoroughly, and is it ever looking rosy now, a deep warm hue like ripe strawberries.

"You OK?"

"Yeah," he says, not looking at me, brushing past me to throw out his tissues. "Yeah, I'b fide." He looks at me now and smiles, his eyes twinkling again. He's pale though.

"Cause you sound sort of sick."

"Dahh," he says, and I know it's supposed to be "Nah" and that yeah, he's sick.

"Peppermint. Chamomile. Green with jasmine. What's it gonna be?"

Those aren't the usual options. He knows exactly what I'm doing and he shakes his head soberly. "I duddo. Which wud goes best with vodka?"

"No alcohol for sick kids."

"I'b dot..." Dean's head is jerked down into his chest as he sneezes hard, his hand coming up to shield it. "HHFFFF-uh! Hhh-hh-hh-HITCHHHCH!"

"Nuff said."

"Aw, dabbit." He blows his nose again, hangs onto the wad. "I'b supposed to go bed-shoppig later with Sab."

"How's your place coming?"

"Fide, ex-cept-t... uh-CHOOFFF!... except he wadts the curtaids friggig PIGK, plus, floor-sleepig's gettig real old real fast."

He's guarding his nose with the tissues, his shoulders scrunched in tight, free hand sawing the air. I notice the dark smudges under his eyes.

"You could probably use a good night's sleep right about now." He contracts inward, convulsed by a quick sneeze. "I don't work tomorrow, sweetie. You could always crash with me."

He eyes me curiously. "You wadt bee to sleep with you?"

I blush, rub my face. "Well. Sleep."

He turns his face aside slyly, keeps me in the corner of his eye. "Just sleep?"

"I reserve the right to snuggle you."

"HETCHCH! Ugh."

"And to hold you when you're sneezing."

He looks at me, sees I'm not kidding, sees there's something kinky there. His mouth stretches wide, curves upward, and his eyebrows waggle. "Would that bake bee the little spood or the big spood?"

"The spoon that kisses me."

I'm bright red and he raises his head, bobs it around a little, takes a half-step back.

"You sexy beast."

"C'mere, sneezy."

I reach for his ribs and pull him in close just as his breath catches, stuttering shuddering tripping into his lungs and then, "H-HAAAA-TCHHHOOOO!" I feel it all through is chest, his upper arms, the contraction. It's one big warm jerk against me, wetness spraying over my shoulder. I reach up and cup his shoulder blade, soothe a hand across his waist. "EHSHSHSHH! Huh-UHH-chuh!"

Each sneeze is sweet to me, the shaky build-up and then the fast recoil as it explodes out. Then he's snuffling in my ear. I turn in and kiss his neck. It's warm and stubbly.

"SOK, Dean. Come and lay with me 'til Sam picks you up."

And I lead him, still sniffling, down the hall to my room.

---

adduther piece

---

Beside me on the couch, Dean sneezes. "ITCCHCHCH!"

I don't know what to say. I don't say anything, don't let myself even look at him. He settles back, keeps watching the movie. Ten seconds later, though - "Ih-TSHSHH!" He's catapulted forward, broad shoulders hunched as he cups his mouth and nose. His sniffles are muffled and sound cavernous from between his palms, and then he drops his arms, face flushed, and stays sitting forward.

I fish the roll of toilet paper out from under the table, put it on his knee. He looks at me, his eyes watering. "Thagks." He takes it, rolls some off and blows his nose. The sound is wet and gurgly.

When he's done he hangs onto both the used and the new tissues, keeps them corralled in his lap. It's a new scene in the movie now... we've missed something.

"KTCHHCH! Heh-ESHSH! Hh-hhh-HISSHSH-uh!" He's got the used toilet paper in his hand, pressed up against his face, and his body's been thrown forward again by the sneezes. Now he snuffles into the paper, blinks as if disoriented. I take the roll back, tear him off a generous length, press it into his free hand. He looks at me gratefully, brings the new bunch up to his nose to carefully replace the old one before he lets that one drop, shoves it into his jeans pocket.

"HRRRRSKHSHSH! Hhh-hh-hhh-HESHSH! HITCH-oooh!"

"You OK?" I've dropped a hand onto his shoulder blade, am rubbing it tentatively with my thumb.

"Badd... yeah, I'b fide. I just... hh-HISSHSH! I guess I got a cold."

"I'd say that's a safe assumption." I smooth a hand over his temples, back into his hair. He's a bit warm. Just then, he shudders.

I get up and grab a blanket, a handful of pillows. I prop myself on the couch's end, tug his arm and guide him to lie against me. Then I settle the blanket over him. The toilet paper roll is clutched in his hand.

"You're gudda get it," he murmurs sleepily, maybe reluctantly.

"If it's meant to be, it's meant to be." I savour his warm weight, run my fingers through his hair, trace his eyebrows.

"Hh-hh-HHH... het-CHOOO!" His muscles all contract at once as the force of the sneeze jerks him inward. I soothe his back as he gasps congestedly, fumbles for a length of tissue.

"How'd you get so sick?"

A tremor runs through him, and he blows his nose. "Just a cold," he sniffles. "They just happedd."

"Sam get it too?"

I feel him shake his head against my breastbone.

"Guess you're just special." I drape my arms around him, feel him settle further against me. "But then, we already knew that."

The congested snores two scenes later tell me he's drifted off. We stay like that for awhile.

[aggedy_ann]

I love these two (well love all of them, and have just been too lazy to comment on them).

I never really consider these types true "mary sues" even if they technically are, because well, yeah, even if you wrote it with you being there, I read it, pretending it's me. The nameless faceless inserts are always fine by me

I'm new to this fandom, and I'm working like mad trying to catch up so I can start writing. Well, start writing anything again.

[W.I.N.]

Aww. Poor Dean.

I'm not usually a fan of self-inserts, but nameless "I" narrators don't usually fall into that category for me. I just think of them as an OC, or something.

Also, sick!Dean totally overrides any misgivings I may have, and you write really well, which pretty much cancels out the Mary Sue problem.

~W.I.N.

[Lady Blessington]

Aww. Poor Dean.

I'm not usually a fan of self-inserts, but nameless "I" narrators don't usually fall into that category for me. I just think of them as an OC, or something.

Also, sick!Dean totally overrides any misgivings I may have, and you write really well, which pretty much cancels out the Mary Sue problem.

~W.I.N.

Oh good. Score. I was hoping the nameless "I" thing might help, but I really wasn't sure.

You are TOO KIND. Thank you times twelve and a half. I felt funny about this one, so your comments mean a lot.

I see the numbers in your drabble thread getting up there and I've started hoarding the new ones for later. Eeep. I can't wait to see what you do with sneezy Dean with Sam and Andy.

I love these two (well love all of them, and have just been too lazy to comment on them).

I never really consider these types true "mary sues" even if they technically are, because well, yeah, even if you wrote it with you being there, I read it, pretending it's me. The nameless faceless inserts are always fine by me

I'm new to this fandom, and I'm working like mad trying to catch up so I can start writing. Well, start writing anything again.

I'm glad you pretended it was you! I was hoping maybe people could read it that way, but I just kept picturing the reader going, "But that's SO not what I would do! Why doesn't she do this instead! Grr!"

I'm SO excited you might be writing Supernatural fic. I think sneezy Dean is about the sexiest thing on the planet, and the idea that there might be even MORE of him coming into the world? Aghghh! *scoots you toward your keyboard*

Thank you!

[telltale]

Ooh. I've never read anything like this before, and I think it's just fantastic! I can see how it would be a fun writing experience, and it's DEFINITELY a fun reading experience! Thanks for sharing.

And brigid, I'm so excited at the thought of yet another SPN writer on here! YAY.

[Lady Blessington]

Ooh. I've never read anything like this before, and I think it's just fantastic! I can see how it would be a fun writing experience, and it's DEFINITELY a fun reading experience! Thanks for sharing.

And brigid, I'm so excited at the thought of yet another SPN writer on here! YAY.

Awesome. I really wasn't sure if that would work out. Thank you sooo much for letting me know you liked it. And how's YOUR Supernatural fic coming? Who are you making sneeze in it?

[W.I.N.]

You are TOO KIND. Thank you times twelve and a half. I felt funny about this one, so your comments mean a lot.

I see the numbers in your drabble thread getting up there and I've started hoarding the new ones for later. Eeep. I can't wait to see what you do with sneezy Dean with Sam and Andy.

My pleasure. I get all giddy when I see this thread has updated, so I figured I would share the love.

The fic is coming along, but it'll be a while before it's anywhere near ready to post. I have some plot issues to work out first. Eesh.

I did finish all the drabble prompts, though!

~W.I.N.

[telltale]

Awesome. I really wasn't sure if that would work out. Thank you sooo much for letting me know you liked it. And how's YOUR Supernatural fic coming? Who are you making sneeze in it?

It TOTALLY worked out.

And to answer your question, Deeeeeaaaan! But of course! I haven't had a chance to work on it in awhile, though.

[W.I.N.]

It TOTALLY worked out.

And to answer your question, Deeeeeaaaan! But of course! I haven't had a chance to work on it in awhile, though.

Uh, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?

...

*cough*

Umm... I mean, it would be really awesome to read it. Yeah.

~W.I.N.

[telltale]

Uh, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?

Haha, I know right? Who can resist the call of sneezy!Dean? WHO?

Idk, I can only write when I'm in the mood, and usually only at 3 am for some reason, so it takes me forever to write anything. It's lame.

[ID2006]

All this wonderful Supernatural fluff. How did I ever survive before?

[Lady Blessington]

Uh, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!?

Haha, I know right? Who can resist the call of sneezy!Dean? WHO?

Idk, I can only write when I'm in the mood, and usually only at 3 am for some reason, so it takes me forever to write anything. It's lame.

*sends large amounts of coffee and, mood-candles*

[Lady Blessington]

The fic is coming along, but it'll be a while before it's anywhere near ready to post. I have some plot issues to work out first. Eesh.

I did finish all the drabble prompts, though!

Eeeeep!

And now the rationing begins in earnest... or else I lose it and burn through them all later while my roommate is out... time will tell.

All this wonderful Supernatural fluff. How did I ever survive before?

I know!

And now W.I.N.'s drabble thread is over, so like, get ON that!

[mr.moosey]

Gah, more, more, more!

[W.I.N.]

Eeeeep!

And now the rationing begins in earnest... or else I lose it and burn through them all later while my roommate is out... time will tell.

Okay, I sort of lied.

Turns out I now have 200 extra prompts, so...

~W.I.N.

[Lady Blessington]

Eeeeep!

And now the rationing begins in earnest... or else I lose it and burn through them all later while my roommate is out... time will tell.

Okay, I sort of lied.

Turns out I now have 200 extra prompts, so...

~W.I.N.

*blinks*

You wouldn't mess with me, would you?

Gah, more, more, more!

*beams*

OK! Probably in the next few days.

Thanks!

[W.I.N.]

Turns out I now have 200 extra prompts, so...

~W.I.N.

*blinks*

You wouldn't mess with me, would you?

No. Never. Cross my heart.

Okay... I might mess with you within the confines of fanfic (because I kind of get a kick out of watching people's reactions to my writing), but never outside of it.

Gah, more, more, more!

*beams*

OK! Probably in the next few days.

Thanks!

WOOHOO!

~W.I.N.

[Lady Blessington]

This is the test run of a birthday drabble for a friend from ff.net. There'll be a challenge word to work in, so it'll change a bit. And, people who commented on "Snow Cabin"? I didn't thank any of you. For no good reason. Thank you. A lot.

The dome light floods on and catches the white cotton taped to Sam's inner arm, the cast on his leg. His face scrunches up like salt on a leech.

"HhhHH... h-how you dewidd, pal?" Dean slides into the driver's seat, tosses their meds between them. "HHH-HIJSSHSHK!"

"Dean." Sam's voice quavers, his hair crazy like the bible. His palm's on Dean's forehead. "Be healed."

Gently, Dean tucks Sam's arm down. "OK, Boses."

"You have pain."

Dean shields Sam's fluttering slit-eyes. "I dod't dow what they gave you, but I wadt subb."

"Trout are free..."

"KGGCHCHHTT!... World's our oyster. Sleep, young sailor."

[W.I.N.]

This is the test run of a birthday drabble for a friend from ff.net. There'll be a challenge word to work in, so it'll change a bit. And, people who commented on "Snow Cabin"? I didn't thank any of you. For no good reason. Thank you. A lot.

Aww. It's really cute. Although "you have pain" sounds more like Spock doing a Vulcan mind-meld to me.

(Did I mention how much I liked "Snow Cabin?" That was what that episode was totally missing...)

Also, I started one of your prompts...

~W.I.N.

[aggedy_ann]

Loopy drugged out broken Sam and sick sneezy Dean? I sooo want to be in the back of that Impala right now.

I love this one. Especially the "Trout are free."

[Lady Blessington]

Aww. It's really cute. Although "you have pain" sounds more like Spock doing a Vulcan mind-meld to me.

Thank you! Love me some crit.

Here's attempt #2, with its companion pieces (apparently there are three birthdays this week - who knew?).

Loopy drugged out broken Sam and sick sneezy Dean? I sooo want to be in the back of that Impala right now.

I love this one. Especially the "Trout are free."

Thank you! I liked that line too. In my head Sam is sooo earnest as he says it and trying so hard to communicate and just, so high on meds and failing so badly.

The dome light snaps on and floods the white cotton taped to Sam's inner arm, the cast on his leg. His face scrunches up like salt on a leech.

"HhhHH... h-how you dewidd, pal?" Dean slides into the driver's seat, tosses their meds between them. "HHHH-HIJSSHSHK!"

"Dean." Sam's voice quavers, his hair crazy like the bible. His palm's on Dean's forehead. "Be healed."

Gently, Dean tucks Sam's arm down. "OK, Boses."

"Hold onto pearls."

Dean shields Sam's fluttering slit-eyes. "I dod't dow what they gave you, but I wadt subb."

"Trout are free..."

"HUH-KGGCHCHHTT!... World's our oyster. Sleep, yugg sailor."

---

(this person loves pukey Sam, so WARNING - pukey Sam)

"KHHKKHH! KHKHHKH-huh! Hih-KHTCHCHH!"

In the lamplight Sam watches Dean jerk further forward with each sneeze until he's wrapped around a kleenex, fumbling for the box. Sam nudges it closer.

"Uh."

Dean straightens, sniffling, nose redder than before. "What?"

Sam loses him in a wave of spots. "I'm gonna puke." He feels for his crutches. A sense of movement suggests he's being manhandled.

When he loses it, there's a cool hand on his neck. Afterwards a towel falls around his shoulders.

Later he wakes up in bed, his leg throbbing. Dean's folded over a tissue, eyes shut. "Hhhh... HAH-TCCHCH-CHCHHUGH! Mordigg, sudshide."

---

(this person wants drunk Cas... by which I assume they mean sneezy Dean with a suggestion of drunk Cas... LOL)

"You are ill."

"I prefer to thigk of it as dasally challedged. Hhhh-TCHOO!"

Castiel cocks his head, watches Dean Winchester engage twice more in the phenomenon known as sneezing. They are taught it doesn't hurt. Castiel's no longer sure.

"There's a man," he begins. "In Wyoming. He..."

"Is he gudda die?"

"No."

"Cas. Look. We deed a day here. Cub back toborrow."

"But I haven't..."

"Or stay. Have a drigk. But we're... hhhHHH... d-dot goigg eddywhere 'til we've... hhh-HESHSSHHUH! ...slept."

"Alcohol is not recommended..."

"Fide." Dean starts to shut the door.

Castiel opens his mouth.

"Bottoms... up?"

"Dow you're talkigg."

[W.I.N.]

Aww, Sammy. *pets him*

I love the second one. Dean practically incoherent with a cold still manages to be all big-brother.

And pre-drunk!Cas made me laugh.

~W.I.N.

[Lady Blessington]

"Hhhh-TCHH!"

"I heard that."

"I'll hear... you."

"You're being ridiculous."

"You cleaned out a drugstore for no reason and I'm the ridiculous one?"

"Dean. We have medicine. Use it."

"HH-HH-HBCHCH! CHCHH-huh! There's nothing wrong with hhHH-CHCHHOOOO!"

"I got the hot lemonade. You like the hot lemonade."

"I dod't deed the hot lebuddade, because I'b dot HESHSH-ooh!"

"Do you hear yourself when you talk?"

"You're the talkigg wud."

"Yeah, you've been pretty quiet today. I'm thinking sore throat, which these pills can help. But you know, whatever."

"HRSHH!"

"Nice hoodie. Oh hey, they're also antipyretics."

"Sab? Tell bee you got kleedex."

[W.I.N.]

God, I missed these.

Is it sad that I went into withdrawal after only a few days of the Forum being unavailable?

Poor sniffly, sneezy Dean. Thank goodness Sam is OCD about stocking up on medicine.

~W.I.N.