Supernatural Preferences {Oneshots, Preferences, Imagines}

Pregnancy BSM 7: Talking to the baby

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Age 19: Personally, you preferred to talk to the baby when you were alone. Not because you were ashamed of it, but because the words you chose always bled into very intimate sentences that you didn't want to share with anyone. You always took a brief second beforehand to pray the Angels weren't listening, but to each their own.

Dean could talk to the baby for hours. You'd lay in your side on the couch and he'd sit on the the floor before you, weaving together the most complex fairy tales he could think of.

"I'm slowly easing him or her into it," he'd tease. Behind his mocking smirk ran a strong current of emotions he couldn't even begin to comprehend or deal with, and he escaped through his stories.

You didn't have the heart to tell him you'd figured him out.

Castiel was an entirely different story. He too valued the privacy of talking, and since there wasn't a way of hiding from you, the two of you spent a lot of one-on-one time together. Castiel would have you lie down on the bed and he'd lay down with his face just above the admittedly huge swell of your stomach. He'd murmur so quietly into the fabric of your shirt that you usually had trouble picking out the words.

Castiel and Sam were sure it was going to be a boy, whereas you and Dean had bet it would be a girl - the losers had to do the grocery shopping and the cooking for a whole month - so occasionally Cas would beg the baby to be a boy. That particular conversation was never whispered because he knew the seriousness in his prayers always had you laughing.

Sam was the one who surprised you the most. You knew they'd all want to talk to the baby, you had been expecting it. But Sam had this hint of desperation in his eyes every time he asked you. Whether it was residual fear from the trial or general fear of the hunter lifestyle the baby had to grow up in, you had no idea. He'd talk for as long as you'd let him, and when he ran out of things to say, he'd start singing.

Now, Sam was by no means x-factor material, but the roughness and emotion in his voice had you transfixed anyways. Normally when the guys talked to the baby, you'd do something else to give them some feeling of privacy, but you couldn't help but listen intently when Sam started singing. He got lost in his own world, eyes fixed on your stomach. It was beautiful.

But by far your favorite thing was when all three of them sat together. It was usually when Dean was done talking, because then you'd be in position on the couch. Your oldest brother would be flanked by Sam and Cas on the floor, and they'd just start talking.

They'd have entire conversations with the baby even though there was never an answer. Dean found it entirely too amusing to pretend to answer on behalf of the baby, cackling like a mad-man at the indignant stares it would earn him.

Safe to say, this poor little baby would never get to sit in silence. If it was anything like you, it wouldn't mind.