#queue saved me

oooh let me not start drama on my blog, but tbh it’s a toss-up. I love me some Dean & Jo, but lbr I do ship wincest HARD

“Misha, did you - oh my God.” You rounded the corner into your kitchen and saw your husband elbow-deep in a pumpkin with a wide smile on his face. As the wrinkles around his eyes deepened, you shook your head. “What are you doing?” 

“Cleaning it out!” His eyes widened and he took on that perfectly innocent facade he always seemed to have.

“I asked you to cut the tops, not shove your hand in them and dump the seeds all over the table.” You laughed and walked toward him cautiously. “Give me that hand.” Extending your arm, you laid your palm out for him to place his hand in it. He smiled mischievously and you instantly regretted your decision to get so close to him. “Don’t you-” You cut yourself off with a squeal as the inside of a pumpkin splattered into your hair and all over your face. 

Misha laughed loudly as your jaw dropped and you looked at him, strings of pumpkin hanging in your face with seeds dangling from them. 

“I cannot believe you just did that.” You shook your head, walking toward him again. Misha’s eyes grew wide as he shook his head and lifted his hands in surrender. “Oh no, too late to raise that white flag, mister.” You shoved your hand into the pumpkin and cringed at the feeling of the inside of it oozing between your fingers. Withdrawing your hand, you lobbed the handful of pumpkin guts at him. It landed on his neck and chest with a loud, wet splat noise, making you cringe again.

The next thing you knew, more pumpkin was flying your way. You returned the favor once again and before you knew it, you and Misha were in a full on pumpkin war. Once both pumpkins were hallowed out and the innards were strewn across your kitchen, you fell against the wall laughing breathily. Your eyes met Misha’s across the room and you instantly knew what was coming next. 

“Race you to the shower!” You shouted as you booked it down the hallway, Misha on your tail and grabbing at your belt loops. He pulled you back against his chest and wrapped his arms around you as he bent and whispered in your ear. 

“I’ll get the places you can’t reach.”

“You okay?” Dean asked his younger brother.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Sam responded with a quick nod.

“Are you sure? ‘Cause you haven’t left the bunker in days.” Dean raised an eyebrow knowingly and waved a rolled up paper around. 

“I’m fine.” Sam pursed his lips and clicked the pieces of his gun back together.

“Well good, ‘cause I think I found us a case.” Dean unfolded the paper and tapped on it with the back of his fingers.

“Cut!” John yelled from his seat, stretching up and making his way to where the guys were standing. “Great, I think we got everything we needed for that scene. We’re just gonna break for lunch and then we’ll wrap the rest of this and start on the next scene.” With a tight smile, he turned and made his way back to his spot behind the camera. “Oh, Jensen, I think you have some visitors.” Jensen’s face scrunched in confusion. Who would be visiting him on set? 

“Daddy!” The small voice bounced off the walls of the bunker’s set.

“Hi, baby girl!” Jensen turned toward the voice and saw his daughter bounding toward him. “What are you doin’ here?” 

“Momma brought us!” She squealed.

“Us? Your baby brother is here too, Jules?” Jensen looked around for you and your son. 

“Mm-hmmm! Ty!” Julianna called out for her younger brother. “Momma, bring Ty to Daddy!” She demanded. You rounded the corner, shaking your head with a small smile on your decision. Your hair was in a messy bun on the top of your head, and what had escaped the hair tie was frazzled out in all directions. The diaper bag slipped off your shoulder as you shifted Tyler on your hip and you sighed, just letting it bounce off your knee as you closed the distance between you and Jensen. 

“Baby, what are you doing here?” Jensen reached over and pulled the diaper bag off your arm, letting you readjust your little boy and fix your shirt where it had ridden up. “You didn’t have to pack them up and bring them over.”

“Yeah, I did. Jules wouldn’t stop crying and because she was crying, Ty started up and then they were both just laying on the floor wailing and-” You poured out the words, exhausted and having talked to only your children since you and Jensen had gone to bed the night before. 

“Whoa, take it easy. Just breathe.” Jensen reached out and laid his hand on your shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re breaking for lunch so we’re gonna go back to the trailer and just relax for a little while, okay?” He draped his arm over your shoulders and pulled you against his side. “You’re not alone in this, babe.” 

The words were easy to say, but no matter how many times you heard them, you still felt alone. Jensen worked from essentially sunrise to sunset, most of the time even later than that, and you were home alone taking care of the house and kids. You knew it was the least you could do, considering Jensen provided everything for all of you, but sometimes you just wanted more. Sometimes you wanted what Jensen had - a steady job, one you knew you’d have for a long time.

“Jensen!” Robbie flagged your husband down before you could leave set, and you let out a quiet groan. “We’ve been talking, and we have quite the proposition for you and your family.” Jensen cocked an eyebrow curiously, and Robbie continued. “We - we were thinking. How would you and your wife feel about her becoming a recurring character if we get picked up for season thirteen?” 

“Robbie, we just got the call about twelve. Isn’t that kind of wishful thinking? And what about the kids? We agreed to not putting them in daycare.” Jensen shook his head. “I don’t know. This isn’t something we can just give you an answer to.” 

“I’ll do it.” You blurted. Jensen’s eyes shot to you and widened. “I want to do it.” 

“Great! We’ll have to draw up a formal contract and everything, but this is going to be amazing. And about the kids - your role would actually be a single mother of two young ones, so the kids would be on set with you all the time. We want the family to become part of this. Think about it, yeah?” Robbie shot you and Jensen a wink before patting Jensen on the shoulder and walking back to the rest of the crew victoriously. 

As your eyes met Jensen’s and you saw the glare behind his bright green gaze, you knew the two of you had a lot to talk about.

What Would Happen… - REQUESTS CLOSED - [WWH Drabble Masterlist]

“Come on, Jense!” Your voice fell into the abyss that was the cornfield before you. “Jensen...?” You spun around, hearing nothing but the wind blowing through the stalks. “Jensen, come on this isn’t funny anymore.” You felt your heart start to beat a little faster. You’d seen one too many horror movies to be comfortable standing alone in the middle of a corn maze, mid-October, just after the sun had set. “Jensen Ross Ackles.” You tried your best to sound angry, but you were shaking like a leaf. 

Behind you, a corn stalk snapped, making you jump out of your skin and whimper. You spun quickly and pulled your phone out of your pocket, dragging the screen from the edge and flicking on the flashlight as fast as you could. There was more rustling and movement from where you were shining your flashlight, causing you to step back and push your back against the rows of corn behind you. Just as tears began to well in your eyes and you swallowed around the lump in your throat, ready to scream Jensen’s name once again, a small golden retriever puppy came prancing from between the corn. 

“Oh my God. Hi buddy! What are you doing out here?” It was like every bad thing in the world disappeared in that moment and all that mattered was the little yellow dog at your feet. Bending down, you scooped him up and began checking the light blue collar around his neck. “You don’t have any tags... Hm.” With a furrowed brow, you plucked something that resembled a note from the metal hook on the collar. You reluctantly put the pup back on the ground at your feet, where he sat and stared up at you with his big eyes, and read the paper. “Oh... Jensen.” You breathed, eyes moving from the words scrawled in your boyfriend’s handwriting to Jensen’s form as he dropped to one knee in front of you.

“So?” He smirked. “Will you?”

“Yes!” You nodded, tears streaming from your eyes. Jensen stood and pulled you into his chest, lifting you and planting a firm kiss on your lips. When you pulled away, Jensen slipped the diamond ring on your finger and wiped the tears from under your eyes. You laughed and threw your arms around his neck when you felt something bump against your ankle. Drawing back from Jensen, arms still laced around his neck, you looked into his glistening eyes, then down at your feet, and back up at Jensen. “But I get to keep the puppy, right?” 

Your mug was filled almost to the brim, but you always made sure to leave enough room in Dean’s for him to add the spiced rum he couldn’t do without. You laughed and shook your head slightly as you thought back on all the times he told you, “Without the booze, it’s just apple juice. That’s too healthy for me.”

“You comin’?” Speak of the Devil, his rough voice beckoned you from down the hall.

“On my way.” You scooped up the mugs and grabbed the bottle of rum from the counter, tucking it under your arm and making sure the stove was adjusted to low heat before leaving it to stay warm. “Here.” You pushed the mug into Dean’s large palms and he waited for you to pass him the liquor. 

“Thanks.” He gave you a small smile and dumped booze into his cider. “So...” He took a sip from his mug. 

“So.” You repeated. “When do you think they’ll be out to repair the heat in this place? Since you and Sam can’t seem to find the problem.” With a small eye roll and a tiny laugh, you brought out Dean’s bitchface. 

“Probably another couple of days.” He grumbled, sipping his drink once again. “God, this is so good. Where’d you learn how to make your own cider?” He raised a brow. You tipped your head back and cackled.

“You think I make this? Dean this is out of a jug from the grocery store. I just put it in a pot and heat it up. Then you add the good stuff.” You tilted your head toward him. “Actually, let me try some of that.” You held out your hand and watched as Dean hurriedly gave you the bottle. “Hey, Dean?” You stirred your drink with your finger. 

“Yeah?” He leaned back against his headboard and closed his eyes. 

“It’s... I’m cold.” You spoke softly. One of Dean’s eyes popped open as he grinned. Holding his mug in his left hand, he stretched out his right arm across the top of the bed and motioned with his head. “C’mere.” You slowly crawled up the bed toward him and leaned into his side as his arm wrapped around you.

Between the warmth of the drink between your palms, the fuzzy heat that was already blossoming inside you from the alcohol, and the sheer bliss you were feeling being cuddled into Dean Winchester, you weren’t sure you ever wanted the bunker’s heat to be fixed.