musingsarmymagic

Part one: http://musingsarmymagic.deviantart.com/art/Dean-Winchester-x-Reader-Wish-Upon-A-Star-475157658 Part two: http://musingsarmymagic.deviantart.com/art/Dean-Winchester-x-Reader-Wish-Upon-A-Star-2-477004900 Part three: http://musingsarmymagic.deviantart.com/art/Dean-Winchester-x-Reader-Wish-Upon-A-Star-3-480708725 Part four: http://musingsarmymagic.deviantart.com/art/Dean-Winchester-x-Reader-Wish-Upon-a-Star-4-488705170 "Mom?" You glance up from the pan you're scrubbing to meet Hope's green eyes. As always, you see Dean in them. You cast a forlorn glance at the picture that rests on the marble countertop, the glare of the sun glinting

"I'll be back soon, beautiful," Dean says soothingly, brushing a strand of hair from your face and gently kissing your cheek. "It's just a witch. Nothing I haven't handled before. Don't worry," he smiles at you, and you muster a small smile back. "I will anyway," you force a laugh. "I wish I could go..." "Nuh-uh. It's your turn to watch this little bundle of joy," Dean grins, swooping up your precious daughter, Hope, from the ground and holding her close against his chest. Her tiny three-year-old hands quickly wrap themselves around his neck and she giggles excitedly. "Daaaaaddy," she whines playfully. "I'm playing! Put me dooooown!" "I d

A/N: Possibly some spoilers for season 9, but yeah. Here's some fluff for ya! Your eyes pop open in the middle of the night when you hear faint sniffles from the bunker room next to yours. You feel your heart wrench inside your chest. Castiel is crying again. Ever since he fell from Heaven, there has been something different about Cas. His curiosity is curbed by indifference; you catch sadness in his expression when he thinks no one is looking. He seems so lonely. So lost. Sitting up, you pull a nightgown over your pajamas and tiptoe to your door, opening it slowly so as not to alert the whole bunker you're awake with its loud squeaking. Y

A/N: So, Sam and the reader are all grown up in this one and happen to bump into each other again. There's a link in the description if you haven't seen part one yet. This is for the sweet lil commenter who asked for a sequel :)     Sam had weird habits, there was no denying that. Between the health food, the 30 sit-ups every morning, and the regular jogs he would take, he earned a lot of eye rolls from Dean. But the morning he asked to go to an art show, Dean actually laughed out loud.     "Dude, I thought the hike was weird. But art?! Seriously? We've got a job to do!"     Sam rolled his eyes. "I'll ask s

You stare down at the scale in horror. "Th-That much?" you whisper, the number a bit higher than you'd expected--or wanted. You pinch at the soft layer of pudge covering your belly, sighing. All the crappy fast food you've been eating on the road is getting to you. You'd thought that running around chasing monsters and whatnot would compensate...but you seem to have thought wrong. Groaning halfheartedly, you step off the scale and head out to the motel living room, grasping the familiar trench coat thrown haphazardly over the couch, falling onto the cushions and curling up on the uncomfortable dingy brown excuse of furniture, and wrapping th

"Hey beautiful," Dean whispers, cradling the bundle of squirming blankets in his arms. He can barely believe the sight before him; a baby, his baby, alive and healthy. Ten fingers, ten toes, a nose that she scrunched up whenever she cooed, a perfect little girl. Dean glances over and meets your eyes. The corners of his lips twitch upwards when you give him an exhausted smile. He'd nearly fainted when you started contractions, and you could have sworn he turned six shades paler when you were in labor; a man that spent forty years down in flames and chains could barely handle you giving birth, but now that all is said and done and you three ar

     Another new school, another new batch of kids to fit in with, another few weeks of struggling to thread together a friendship with anyone not already settled into a clique. Sam always thought those cliques just be run by someone using a binding spell to hold a couple other kids to him. But then again, Sam didn't really know the beauty of solid, lasting friendship. Brotherhood, sure, but friendship? He didn't live a life made for friendship.     "Class, this is Sam Winchester," the second grade homeroom teacher repeated the routine words every smiling, rosy-cheeked elementary teacher said. "He and his family are new in our lit

A/N: Here it is, since I got a positive response to the first one (and I'm sorry it's so long--like, seriously, it's really long--but hey, there's more to enjoy)! Just so you know, paragraphs in italics are flashbacks. The description has some important stuff in it, don't forget to check that out! Check out part 1 here: http://musingsarmymagic.deviantart.com/art/Dean-Winchester-x-Reader-Wish-Upon-A-Star-475157658?q=gallery%3Amusingsarmymagic&qo=1     You were dirty, sweaty, covered in blood that wasn't your own, and yet Dean still looked at you like you were the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen. He ran over and enfolded you in a t

Peace and quiet. Well, as close to peace and quiet as you could get the night after a hunt--Dean blasting classic rock, Sam watching a documentary on television, and you curled up in your favorite spot; under a well-worn tan trench coat, sandwiched between Castiel and the soft cushions on the back of the couch. It was your favorite spot for many reasons--after all, who wouldn't want to be snuggled up beside the world's cutest angel? You loved having your head pressed to his chest so you could hear his heartbeat, you loved feeling his arms wrapped protectively around you as you both breathed a sigh of relief for another hunt gone safely, and

    Your knuckles go white as you clench your fists in front of the dirtied motel mirror, streaked and speckled with grime and all manner of unappealing things. Another hunt, another monster put down, another town full of civilians saved as they stumble about their daily lives, still oblivious to the danger that lurks around every corner.     You want to forget. Just once, you want to be as pathetically unknowing as them. The things you know about the horrors that go bump in the night are enough to make most people go crazy, and you still manage to fall asleep half the nights.     This sort of life, it's enough to make anyone do crazy thi