It had all started with an innocent enough favor. A friend of a friend needed a last-minute babysitter, and with both of you between hunts, you figured why not? Easy money, right? Dean had shrugged, going along with it for the sake of a little extra cash and a few laughs. But now, several hours into the chaos, you weren’t sure what you’d gotten yourselves into.

Dean was clearly enjoying the spectacle, leaning against the doorway with a lopsided grin as you tried—yet again—to get the hyperactive kid to calm down. The little one had been bouncing off the walls since their parents left, and despite your best efforts, they were nowhere near ready for bed.

“Y’know,” Dean drawled, that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes, “you’re pretty good at this. Maybe you’re practicin’ for the future?” His tone was teasing, but there was a softness underneath, something almost tender.

You shot him a glare, but couldn’t ignore the flutter in your chest at his words. “Keep it up, Winchester, and you’re gonna be changing the diapers when that ‘future’ rolls around.”

Dean chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, I’m just saying. You and me? We’d make a good team. Hell, this could be practice.”

The idea of a future with Dean, of little feet running around, tugged at something deep inside you. But before you could get too lost in that thought, the kid finally started to wear out, their energy fizzling as they snuggled into bed, clutching a stuffed animal close.

Dean stepped closer, his teasing grin softening into something warmer. “You did good, sweetheart,” he murmured, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “You’re a natural. Maybe this babysitting gig ain’t so bad after all, huh?”

The warmth of his touch and the way he was looking at you made it hard to focus on anything else. The teasing might have been playful, but there was something real behind it, a hint at a future that wasn’t so scary to think about—especially if it was with him.