Reader Inserts (Requests Closed)

Dean Winchester x Reader

CHRISTMAS SURPRISE

Christmas Eve was dawning on you faster than you were able to keep up. Although most of your time was spent with the Winchester brothers, you still had people to shop for and greeting cards to send. The workload proved to be a total whirlwind, filling your schedule to the brim, and the worst part was that you were handling this alone. Sam used his dislike of Christmas as an excuse to not help you, Cas never stuck around long enough to lend a hand, and then there was Dean. Normally Dean would be quite enthusiastic for Christmas, and therefore help you out- though accepting Dean's help was a mistake, last year he mailed all the presents to the wrong addresses- but now he spent most of his time sitting in your shared room, with the door shut and locked. You couldn't get in for those nights; but there were plenty of spare bedrooms in the bunker. He would only emerge to get another box out of the bunker's endless supply of takeout Chinese food, and when he did, he seemed like a wreck. Still clad in the same pajamas you'd seen him in two nights ago and his stubble growing longer, it seemed like he hadn't slept in a while. Give him his space, you told yourself when you first noticed it. He's bound to come around at some point. 

It seemed that giving Dean his space was a quickly failing plan. It was time to interfere. 

First thing that morning, you marched to his room, which was also your room. You had a right to be in there; you slept there every night after all. 

"Dean," you demanded, pounding on the door. "Let me in!" 

Beyond the door you heard some shuffling, a mumble you couldn't discern and finally the doorknob unlocking. Dean faced you with groggy eyes and an inattentive gaze. 

"Oh, hey," he greeted, slurring his words. "What...is there anything you need?" 

"Dean, you've been holed up in there for almost three days now!"

He blinked, looking like he was coming to some sort of realization. "Three days? Are you sure?"

"And counting. Now will you tell me what's got you so occupied? I've been sleeping alone."

Dean muttered something under his breath, avoiding eye contact with you. You leaned against the doorway using all your might until eventually Dean straightened you upright to look you in the eyes.

"I'll give you an explanation. You deserve one," he said as he smiled, but it seemed off. Insincere, one might add. With that he closed the door. 

You sighed and turned your back to the door, allowing yourself to slide down to the floor. That could have easily been a lie- add that one to the list. Your relationship with Dean was still in its stages of infancy despite the fact it (barely) survived a year. It was fragile and volatile, with murky waters infested with dangerous beasts capable of attacking and swallowing you whole. The biggest beast, the biggest feat to have arrived in your relationship was here, and you knew it was inevitable. Someday, this would happen. 

You were pregnant. 

You absolutely knew. All the tests didn't lie, there's no way that five of them would say positive in a row and be wrong. Telling Dean seemed like a bigger gamble than betting every last dime in Vegas. The outcome would change everything no matter what, but Dean's reaction was the most important piece. Could he handle fatherhood? Is Dean committed enough? You wouldn't want your child to grow up with the ghost of a father, some figment of the past, weighing down on the family. 

Dean opened the door once again and you knew. He absolutely must be told. Walking into the room, Dean led you over to the desk that you sort of shared. Primarily you used it because you needed to use your laptop to pay bills. Dean would use it to map out hunts that he knew were going to be long and exhausting for both him and Sam. 

On the desk sat a journal. It was an unceremonious brown, but glowing with blue symbols. Papers with sloppily scrawled notes were scattered all about the place, just like the rest of the room. The trash can was overflowing with crumpled up paper. Whatever this journal was, it was important. 

"Dean, what is all this?" 

"Well, what was supposed to be a nice gift has now turned into a damn train wreck," Dean spat. He sounded like a customer who had just been cheated out of his money- indignant and angry. "It's this damned Enochian! I can't read it." 

"Then why didn't you get Cas to help you? He is an angel after all."

"I don't need Cas," he said. "I can make a nice gift for my girlfriend by myself." 

You sighed and made your way over to Dean, who was now sitting on the bed, arms crossed and face set into a deep frown. You wrapped your arms around Dean and he relaxed his head into your chest. 

"Dean," you spoke tenderly, "I'm sure I'll love whatever you made, even if it's not complete. It's nice of you to have gone through this effort for me, but I think we need Cas to help us out. We'll take care of that later." 

He muttered something before finally spitting out a "fine". Your boyfriend's arrogance and stubbornness had made him difficult. Hopefully when you tell him you're pregnant, he'll be significantly less indignant. You unlocked your arms from around him and instead forcing him to lie down on his side. He raised an eyebrow at you, but you just laid down across from him. From this perspective you really could see the bags under his eyes and the exhaustion tugging his face downward and the worry lines in his face bolded. Now was the time, when you had Dean all to yourself. 

"Hey, I've got something to tell you." 

"Hm?"

"So, uh, I've had no period this month and I've also been feeling kind of really sick, and I might think I'm-"

"Pregnant," Dean finished. "I'm well aware." 

"How?" 

"You're not exactly subtle. I've watched you get up five times a night just to throw up your guts. It ain't a stomach bug, and after a little research," he inclined his head toward your laptop, "I eventually put the puzzle together." 

"So, how did you take it?" 

"I mean, I'm a hunter. Hunters aren't supposed to settle down, have a lover and kids. I already tried that and it ended in consequences that I don't want to relive." 

You nodded in acknowledgement. 

"But," he continued, "you're not some random chick in a bar that I banged and never saw again. I'm stuck with you, and you me. We're in this parenthood thing together. So hell yeah, we should have this kid." 

You smiled and he pulled you closer. 

"Merry Christmas, Dean."

"Merry Christmas." 

A huge cloud of anxiety and doubt was lifted. Out of the burning ashes of strenuous effort that was your relationship came a pillar, a crutch to help support its broken and unsure legs. The future was still unpaved but at the very least you knew that Dean had your back.