A Winchester's Girl

Castiel: this is fascinating

Jack: what are the little dark circles?

Dean: pearls

Jack: DID THEY KILL A BUNCH OF OYSTERS TO MAKE THIS?!

Dean: NO?!

Jack: but Sam taught me about how molluscs will create pearls as when irritants enter their shel—

Dean: OH MY GOD HE’S TAUGHT YOU HIS NERD SHIT TOO

Castiel: well it was quite a fascinating lesson about—

Dean: QUIET.

~~~~~~~~~~

1. How do you lose a Giraffe? She apparently scaled a cliff that served as part of the enclosure (which the other giraffes in the herd had shown no interest in climbing.)

2. Well it should be easier to find her, she's a whole ass giraffe? Yeah, you'd think, but Texas ranches are fuckin huge. The man has apparently hired a helicopter and several drones to aide the search, but no luck yet. She's been seen on some game cameras on the nearby ranches though. But she's sneaky.

There was literally a scene where he's lying down being tortured all sweaty on his huge hutt-tiddies like

Jon Favreau is baiting us...

Everyone always assumes the big buff nerd only lifts weights, not books.

They don’t see him in the quiet corner of the library, glasses slipping down his nose, reading about astrophysics like it’s poetry.

And they definitely don’t notice how he looks at the chubby librarian.

She’s all soft smiles and warm cardigans, the kind of girl who smells like old paper and vanilla. Her laugh is gentle, but it fills the whole room when he accidentally knocks over a stack of encyclopedias for the third time that week.

“Sorry,” he mutters, blushing harder than his bench-pressing face should allow.

“It’s okay,” she says, already kneeling beside him to pick them up. “They fall for you pretty easily.”

He doesn’t realize she means the books… and maybe herself too.

He starts coming in every day after that.

Sometimes for help with research.

Sometimes just to sit at her desk and listen to her talk about her favorite fantasy novels while he rests his chin on his giant hands like a devoted puppy.

She thinks he’s intimidating at first — broad shoulders, thick arms, always towering over the shelves — but then she sees the way he gently turns pages, the way he asks before touching her favorite book, the way he lights up when she recommends something new.

One day he admits, quietly,

“I come here because… you make the world feel quieter.”

And she, with her soft heart and softer body, realizes that this big strong nerd is actually the safest place she’s ever been.

So now: He carries her stacks of books without effort.

She slips notes into the ones he borrows.

Their hands brush.

They pretend not to notice.

They absolutely do.

Big muscles. Soft hearts.

Two people who never thought they’d be someone’s favorite story—

Tags: no fandom, original work. fem!reader, pregnancy, angst, grief, loss of a relative, overall pain, some comfort in the end. 

-

You were heaving while you lied on the bed, and he hugged you from behind, laying soft kisses over your shoulder. Your body was shuddering with the sobbing, and your hands clutched desperately to the pillow, trying to ground yourself from completely falling apart.

He was worried, given you had been to one of your ultrasounds without him, and that was how he found you at the house after you ignored multiple calls and texts messages asking if everything was okay.

"Love, what is going on? I'm worried" he cooed against your hair, as you tried to recover any rhythm to your breathing. He laid his hand over your baby bump, and caressed in gently with his thumb. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I-... I..." Words were getting tangled and dissipating in your throat before you could push them out into existence. He buried his face in your shoulder and pressed his body against yours, thinking that if he did, this might help. 

You halted your breathing for a few moments, and it helped ease the pulling sensation hiccuping on your lungs, before you could answer. "I'm... Okay. The baby is too. It's-" you heaved, "it's a girl."

"You're not okay, honey" he said, pulling your hand and laying his lips gently on your knuckles. "Please, what happened?"

"I'm fine physically. It's just-" your eyes began watering again, and you shoved your face against the pillow, trying to see if drying tears would dry your pain, too.

It didn't.

He was silent, waiting for you to meet him halfway, and tell him why you were crying.

"He's never meeting our children."

Oh.

You hiccuped painfully with a heavy heart before continuing. "He will never meet any of them. He always said how much he wanted a niece, how he would pamper her and spoil her beyond repair, be the best uncle ever, and then... Nothing. He will never get to meet her."

He hugged you tighter, kissing your temple, unable to steal the grief away from you.

"Every single time I'm happy, it hurts. It hurts because I want to share this happiness with him, but I can't anymore. I never got to tell him I got into engineering school, I didn't get to introduce him to you, he wasn't at our wedding, and now, he's never going to know I'm having a girl, the niece he always wanted. This interrupted existence that never ceases to linger on for me. I'm so afraid."

"What are you afraid of, my love?"

"Forgetting" you said, brushing your hand over your cheek, cleaning the last tears that streamed down your face. "I'm afraid of forgetting the sound of his laughter, and how his brows furrowed when he was thinking too hard, or the smell of burnt eggs every time he failed to make breakfast. I'm terrified of forgetting. Each setting brick of a new milestone, it feels like he gets buried deeper in the past, halted in time. I'm afraid."

"That's impossible" he said, kissing your cheek.

You sighed, feeling a little better after you got some of the pain out of your system. "Why?"

"Because you see his face every day when you look at yourself in the mirror. Every time you laugh, it's his laugh too. And all the times you nearly gave me food poisoning, well, I like to believe it was also him."

You let out a chuckle, and rolled over your back to hug your husband, as he pecked his lips at your face lovingly.

"You see... He's permanently woven into your life. You won't forget him."

You locked your gaze to him, feeling so small you'd fit in the palm of his hand.

"Promise?"