Dean and you had been married for over seven years. Despite his life as a hunter, filled with danger and chaos, Dean always made time for you, carving out little moments in your life together. Lately, though, you’d noticed something different about him. He’d been spending more time on his phone, showing you video after video of babies, laughing, crawling, and doing all the adorable things that made his green eyes light up with wonder. “Aren’t they cute?” You could see it in his face, the man who had faced down hell itself, had started to get baby fever.

One evening, as you sat curled up on the couch together, Dean pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips warm against your skin. He trailed another to the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping around you in that familiar, protective way. “Sweetheart…” His voice was softer than usual, carrying a hint of nervousness. “Can we have a baby?” The words hung in the air as he buried his face against your neck, continuing to pepper kisses along your shoulder. You could feel the love in his touch, the vulnerability in his question. He wasn’t just asking he was letting you into the deepest corner of his heart, into a dream he hadn’t voiced until now.