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spnexploration · 3 days

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Unfortunately my experiencing this exact situation right now has delayed my reading Dean comforting me about it 😅 Man, I am sick of vomiting.

Anyway, the stories were great!

Hey 💕💕 so I absolutely loved your dean/Ben/beau story as you know and would absolutely love to see you do another… one idea I had would be for a how they react to their pregnant girlfriend/partner/wife getting really bad sickness, to the point where they can’t keep anything down and need to go to hospital for meds. If you don’t mind 🥰 thank you!

So we talked about this one a while back, and I finally got the craving (pun intended) to do this one. 😘

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, pregnancy, "morning" sickness, hurt/comfort.

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to you getting "morning" sickness during pregnancy.

Dean Winchester

Aw, Dean as a new dad gives me feels...

He'd be equal parts scared, apprehensive, and so damn happy that you're pregnant. With his kid.

If Dean was protective before, now he's in overdrive.

You indulge him, keeping to the bunker, trying not to stress yourself out. And he's game to indulge you in whatever cravings or needs you might have, but neither of you were ready for this...

When bouts of morning sickness turn into sporadic all day sickness, for weeks and even months on end, Dean turns from sympathetic to very concerned.

It gets to the point where you can't hold much of anything down.

From raw meat or cooked bacon, to cleaning products, to nothing at all besides whenever your stomach decides to rebel—anything might trigger your nausea, and send you to the bathroom to throw up what little you have in your system.

Dean follows you, grabbing a cup of water for you, and gathers your hair away from your face when you're bent over the toilet. He rubs your back.

"Oh God, this is hell," you manage between bouts of heaving. You realize the shittiness of saying this to Dean of all people, but it's the truth of how you feel. You grab his wrist with hot tears in your eyes.

"Babe, this is well and truly hell," you confess. Both your voice and your grip on his hand is shaky. He holds you steady and swipes the tears from your cheeks.

"All right, that's it," he says gruffly. "You're going to the doctor."

But that gruffness is just a mask for his concern.

He goes with you to the Emergency Room, where you're prescribed nausea medication that has its own lovely list of side effects. But at this point, you'll deal with anything as long as it takes this discomfort away.

You've come to be afraid of eating. Which absolutely sucks, because you love food, almost as much as Dean.

But now, food has become your dreaded enemy.

Dean takes it upon himself to be the sole cook for you and Sam. He makes you whatever you can keep down, even if it means he can't eat burgers in the bunker anymore. (The smell of cooking meat sets you off.)

Whenever Sam and Dean are out on a hunt, Dean scarfs down a bacon burger with extra cheese like a man eating his last meal. Sam gives him a look of mild disgust. "Dude, really?"

Dean shoots him a deadpan look. "Damn it, Sam. I can't eat this shit at home. Leave me alone."

But when it comes down to it, he's willing to do pretty much anything if it makes you feel better during your pregnancy. He'll be your body pillow when you just can't get comfortable. He'll be your in-house chef, your foot massager, whatever else you need.

If he ever gets annoyed or frustrated with these tasks, he reminds himself that you're having his kid. Carrying his child.

You're doing more for him right now than he could ever do for you.

And this is his way of showing you that he loves you for it.

Beau Arlen

The sheriff with a heart of gold...

He'd be doting on you throughout this whole experience.

He's been through this once before, so he thinks he's prepared for whatever your pregnancy might entail.

Back rubs? He's on it. (Including massages for leg cramps and/or achy feet.)

Cravings? He's willing to go out in the middle of the night if you well and truly need that order of lo mein with a side of pickle juice.

When the mere smell of the meal you're cooking sends you straight to the bathroom (again), Beau turns off the stove and follows you to the bathroom to make sure you're all right.

He discovers that you're prepared: you have a cup of water on the bathroom counter, your toothbrush and toothpaste out of the cupboard, and your favorite scrunchy to toss your hair up into a bun.

He's noticed you occasionally get up at night to rush to the bathroom, but because of his long hours at work, he hasn't been here often enough in the day to notice just how much you've been going through.

Beau frowns as he rubs your back while you heave what little you seem to have in your stomach.

"How long's this been going on?" he asks. "This ain't the first time you've been sick, is it?"

When you're able, you give him a watery look. "No. No it is not."

His face softens further. He helps you up when you're done and brushes your hair out of your eyes. "How long, darlin'?"

"For about a month now," you confess. That deepens Beau's frown and has him pulling you into his arms.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asks. He soothes his fingers through your hair and comforts you while you weep.

"I thought I could deal with it," you reply with a sniffle. Your fingers clench in his shirt. You aim to take deep, slow breaths through your nose in effort to calm the nausea threatening to take over again. You shake your head. "It's okay. It'll go away eventually."

Beau frames your face in his hands and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"You kidding me? I'm taking you to the doctor tomorrow, get you some medication," he says.

"You have work tomorrow," you remind him. "I could just go by myself."

"I'll have Jenny cover for me," he says. His lips kick up in a smile as he gently rocks you back and forth. "She'll like that, being the boss for a day. Hopefully it won't go to her head."

You laugh lightly and slip your fingers through his hair. You'd kiss him if you didn't need to brush your teeth first.

You settle on hugging him close and resting your head against his chest.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oof, this man would be wholly out of his depth...

Ben's deepest wish is coming true. After many fun and creative attempts, you're finally pregnant.

You know that your husband hasn't contemplated all the inevitable realities of you having his child, but you thought you were ready for this. And you're excited to start a family...

It's just not quite what either of you expected.

Ben hears the sounds that are coming out of the bathroom, for the third time tonight, and it makes him grimace.

He'd been out on a mission for a couple of weeks, but he was more than ready to come home to you, hoping he'd find a nice home-cooked meal and his wife waiting for him, now that you've been working from home.

Well, he found you, hunched over the sink in the kitchen while a raw chicken sat in a bowl on the counter. Apparently the sight, feeling, and smell of raw flesh had made you sick.

Ben resolved to toss the chicken back into the fridge and order a pizza.

But now, this was the third time you'd left his side while watching a movie in bed.

He ventures into the bathroom and frowns when he finds you kneeling on the floor, practically hugging the toilet.

"The fuck is happening?" he asks.

You give him a wry look and gesture at the ceramic appliance below you.

"Oh, me and him? We're doing battle. I think I'm winning though," you quip. Until a bubble of nausea makes your face pale even worse. You turn from him to heave the contents of your stomach into the bowl.

With a sigh, Ben kneels down and brushes your hair from your face. He lays a warm, heavy hand on your back and waits for you to finish. Then he helps you back onto your feet.

You brush your teeth for the fourth time today and wipe your face with a groan. You still feel like shit, but at least your stomach is settled. For now.

"How long has this been going on?" Ben asks. You spy the look on his face through the mirror. A small "V" creases his forehead with a surly frown.

The fact that he has to ask that irritates you and sparks your anger, but you try to breathe through it. Sometimes, you don't realize what's should be an understandable reaction, or when your hormones are sparking you more easily to anger.

"Hmm, how long have I been pregnant?" you wonder dryly.

Despite your own grumpiness, you turn around and trudge into his arms.

Ben sighs and tucks your head under his chin. He'd known you had bouts of morning sickness every now and then for the past couple of months, but he hadn't realized it was this bad.

"Well, you should've fucking said something then," he said. "Have you been to the doctor? They could give you some nausea pills or something."

"I've got it handled," you tell him with a dismissive hand. "I have an appointment for the 30th."

Ben's frown deepens; he pulls away from you just enough to see your face.

"That's almost a whole damn month away," he says.

You shake your head with a weary sigh and rest your head against his chest. "It's the soonest appointment they had available."

Once again, Ben leans away so he can meets your eyes. He holds your face in his hands.

"That's not good enough. We're going tomorrow morning, and you're getting some damn pills," he says.

A smile threatens your lips. "Ben, that's not how it works—"

"You think I give a fuck?" he snaps. "I don't want to see you on the bathroom floor, holding the shitter. When was the last time you ate something you could actually hold down?"

You purse your lips at his tone, but when you consider his question, you realize that you can't remember the last time you actually had a meal that agreed with you.

"That's what I thought," Ben says. "We're going tomorrow."

He leads you back into the bedroom, and you have to sigh. But you finally do smile as he guides you into bed with gentle hands, despite his grumpy attitude.

You fist a hand in his shirt and tug him down to you. Your smile grows, and you press a sweet kiss to his lips.

It lightens his eyes a bit, even makes his lips tug upwards.

This man can bark and growl, but at least with you, he's all too soft in the middle.

AN: Aww, this one was fun. I love pregnancy feels lol. Special thanks to my mom, and also my friend @iprobablyshipit91 for extra insights into pregnancy and "morning" sickness. Let me know what you think! 💜

I wonder if I should start adding Jason Teague (Smallville) to these imagines. I think that would be a fun addition!

Dean Winchester Imagines

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Dean, Beau + SB Tag List (Part 1)

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#fic recs #dean winchester x reader #beau arlen x reader #soldier boy x reader #morning sickness #sick reader #pregnancy #hurt/comfort #dean winchester hurt/comfort

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