i hope i spelled all your names right

we’ve got to stop not meeting like this - in dreams written under pillows for the night to forget in a single kiss of the sun, in faces we drink to cut the manifestation of life into a single entity. all my broken pieces spell out your name. all my tears hold my hand tighter than your eyes. all this silence reads better than the final scene of us. losing you has turned me a new shade of blue, and I don’t know how to paint anything less than my favorite. I don’t know how to not taste you in my coffee, how to use less sugar because even if its too hot, there’s still a slight breeze to my right. I’ve been saying your name in the mirror hoping that I would be better at goodbye this time, but you’ve been gone for weeks already, and I’ve been sleeping with a memory so real I can hear you knocking against my temples. darling, though silence and secrets are dark places that always require company, the longer silence remains untouched, the longer the miscommunication creates its own stories..and I may have put all my sand into the same castle, but belief will only drown you if you forget to exhale the bad. you said be love… like that could be easier than being human. sometimes when the clock passes me up and all I’ve been doing is wondering if I’m on your mind, I realize that I’m probably not. I realize that things have changed, we’re no longer the same. the words we tell each other, it’s all more memories to forget, some people look better in your memories anyway. and it’s just these fucking feelings, they stay longer than the actual person. and it’s just this fucking heart it keeps beating for you, and I’ve been trying to pump it with enough drugs to keep me going for another week, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? what we had? it was unhealthy, so here’s the truth about me. I need to let go of everything that’s killing me, I’d drink to the sound of your voice, but I haven’t heard it for so long, maybe it sounds like the waves crashing onto the shoreline, we’re worlds apart. we’re all a little lost when it comes to love, so maps won’t help us find lost treasure. lately, I’ve been feeling a new shade of red. lately, I’ve been feeling other things, it’s never you, but occasionally, I’m still stuck here, maybe it’s this depression. maybe it’s just me. I’m still trying to be okay, but if I don’t, fuck, I’ll stay until the very last second to find out.
—  The Ate & The Bunso
A Little Surprise

{Part 1}

Dean x Pregnant!Reader

WARNINGS: Swearing.

Word Count: 970

Author’s Note: I enjoyed writing this. I hope you all like it.

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The hunt had went well.  Everyone had walked away unscathed.  You and the Winchesters were heading to a bar to celebrate.  You smiled, thinking of your victory, but you were slightly uneasy.  Right before Sam had ambushed the witch that were you hunting and killed her, she had been saying something.  It had sounded like chanting; like a spell of some sort.  Of course, you didn’t say anything to the brothers, you didn’t want to ruin the mood.

You probably had on a face of unease because you heard your boyfriend, Dean, saying your name, stealing you away from your thoughts.  

“(Y/N).”

You looked over at him from the back seat of the 1967 Chevy Impala.

“Yeah?”  You asked.

“You alright?”  He asked, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  You reply, but a moment later a wave of nausea comes over you and you put a hand to your mouth.

Dean, who had already been worried about you, caught the gesture and pulled over for you.  As soon as the Impala had stopped moving, you had opened the door and were puking your guts out on the side of the road.

You felt a hand on your shoulder and another holding your hair back.  You looked up momentarily to see Dean by your side before another wave of nausea came over you and you puked again.

“All done?”  Dean asked you, worry evident in his voice.

You nodded and stood up, Dean coming with you.  You looked back towards the Impala to find Sam still in the car, watching from the passenger seat.  You ignored Dean’s worried expression and, as quickly as you could, made your way back to the Impala and got in.

Dean followed, just a second behind you.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”  He asks, turning around in his seat to look at you.  

You ignore his concern, nod your head yes and tell him to continue on to the bar.  Dean sighs, but does as you ask and Sam throws a worried glance your way.

At the bar, you decide not to drink any alcohol.  You didn’t understand why, but it didn’t seem like a good idea.  

You had had another puking session and were returning to the boys after you had left the women’s room.

“You’re sick.”  Dean stated when you returned.

“No, I’m not.”  You said, avoiding Sam and Dean’s eyes.

“(Y/N), don’t give me that shit.”  You caught Dean rolling his eyes at you.

“(Y/N),” Sam interrupted, probably just saving you and Dean from a fight, “did anything happen during the hunt that you aren’t telling us?”

You said nothing, still avoiding their expectant gazes.  You heard Sam sigh.

“What happened?”  The younger Winchester asked you.

“I have no clue!”  You yelled as you turned on your heel and began to make your way out of the bar and back towards the Impala.

By the time the boys had decided it was safe to follow and had made their way out of the bar and towards you, you were hunched over a nasty smelling public trashcan puking your insides out.  You decided you should tell them about the witch, otherwise they wouldn’t let you go on with your life.

“The witch was chanting something right before Sam killed her.”  You said when you had finished puking, and before either of them had time to address you.

“Chanting,” Sam asked, “Chanting what?”

You shrugged.  You had no clue what the hell was going on.

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean suddenly, yelled.  You and Sam looked at him in utter surprise at his outburst.

Dean hurriedly got in the Impala, gesturing for you and Sam to follow as he did.  The two of you quickly complied and followed him into the car.

“Dean, what the hell is going on?”  Sam asked, looking over at his brother who had his eyes glued to the road in front of him.  Dean said nothing and continued to drive.

Your boyfriend stopped at a gas station, parked the car, ran inside, quickly bought something, and the three of you were on the road again, but only for a few minutes because Dean had brought you back to the motel you guys’ had been staying at.

He grabbed the bag from the gas station and stormed inside to your motel room.  You and Sam quickly followed, confused as to what was going on.

“Dean,”  you started, but were quickly cut off by Dean shoving the bag into your hand and pushing you towards the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

You gasped, what was his problem?  You were tempted to walk right out of the bathroom and demand an explanation as to what was going on, but your curiosity got the best of you and you looked into the bag.

A pregnancy test?  What the hell did he think was going on?  You were mildly offended, but the more you thought about it, the more your boyfriend’s logic made sense.  ‘What if the witch had put a curse on you that made you pregnant?’  It would explain the constant puking, you supposed.  So, in the end, you decided to check.  You used the pregnancy test.

You stood up from the toilet, still refusing to get your answer from the pregnancy test, but after about five minutes of avoiding your answer, and remembering the anxious Winchester’s outside the bathroom door, you looked.

Positive.  There was no arguing now.  You were pregnant.

You nervously opened the bathroom door and stepped out.  You watched as both the Winchesters looked up at you expectantly has you walked out.  Dean must have told Sam of his suspicions of you being pregnant because he looked just as anxious as Dean.

“Well?”  Dean asked nervously.

You nodded, “I’m pregnant.”