Summary: Being the wife of God himself has it’s fair share of marital issues, especially when it comes to the topic of children
Pairing: God!Chuck x Winchester!Reader, Sam, Dean.
Warnings: flashbacks, mentions of past relationship, light angst. Literally over all fluff, slight comedy (its really lame, i’m not that funny.)
Chuck and Gabriel Appreciation Week (masterlist)
“ Come to mommy, you can do it!” Your voice rung sweetly, your hands out to the small child who stood on his own. His chubby legs wobbling and one foot lacking a sock unlike the other. He gurgled at you, big brown eyes flicking to yours and a gummy smile across his cheeks. He took a step forwards before falling to his bum. The dream begun to blur, noises of the real world become louder and harder to ignore. The baby in your dream began to cry and the light of the sun became harsh. You opened your eyes.
The scent of breakfast lured you,
bacon and pancakes on the menu. Currently you and your celestial husband were staying with your brothers. Thankfully, they let you stay to get out of harm’s way.
Your hand slowly inched to your stomach, brushing the sheets away from your sweaty skin. Chuck had been a little rough last night, soft purple fingerprints littered your skin. A reminder of the bittersweet love. Of the challenges you were currently facing that wasn’t his sister. Baby Making.
“ Not now, y/n, I’m exhausted and I need to get this book done.”
“ God dammit, Chuck, you’ve been looking at a blank screen for the past hour. I’m sure if you cleared your head you could write in the morning. Come to be with me-” You hold out your hand slightly, head titled to the side.
He let out a soft laugh, rolling his eyes at you. He knew it was a wrong move, but he knew what you wanted. He just couldn’t bring himself to do that.
“ You know, you don’t need to say my name twice and use it in vain. I can hear.” He winced slightly at his own comment, cowering slightly.
Your feet gently padded against the tiled floor, making your way throughout the cool morning bunker. The scent of breakfast slowly becoming stronger. You turn the corner, h/c curls brushing the apples of your cheeks. Sam and Dean sat at the island, mugs of coffee for both and forks piled with mini stacks of pancake. The topic of this morning’s breakfast: Lucifer and his tantrums.
“He wants a big, wet apology.” Chuck sighed as he flipped, Dean and Sam looking at one another before Dean spoke up.
“I can’t say I’m sorry if I don’t mean it.”
For some reason that comment hit hard, as if it were lightly also directed to you. You sat down between your boys and waited for your plate. Chuck stood on the other side with a ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ mug in hand. You scoffed softly, causing all three men to look up at you.
Cautiously you look up with red cheeks. Chuck stared at you and your brothers returned to their meal. He tensed, gripping his mug a little too tightly, “ What’s wrong, Y/N/N?”
“Don’t give me that crap, Y/N..”
You frowned, sinking into your chair. Sometimes you swear that if he wasn’t your husband and he wasn’t so desperately in love with you, that he would smite you on the spot. His testing look made you now your head and you sighed softly.
“World’s greatest dad? I want that to come true someday. You know children.” Sam shifted besides you, becoming slightly uncomfortable as Dean choked on his coffee. When it came to their little sister and her odd marriage with God, they were always awkward.
“No. You’re not having children. I let you date him. Marry him. But children? Hell no. I’m not having little brats running around here. Plus it’s dangerous, were hunters, Y/N…especially since you’re married to God! Isn’t that sinning?” He spoke, jaw locked. You shot a glare at your brother before your husband spoke once again.
“You have the angles, they are technically your children as well now. So you do have children! World’s Greatest Mom!” He laughed weakly, his soft grey eyes wrinkled with laugh lines.
“I want a baby Chuck, I..I want to be pregnant and I want to have your children. A baby, a small little bundle of joy.” You spoke, cheeks burning and lips quivering in disappointment and embarrassment. Turning away, you quickly and stood with tears glazing your eyes.
Your brothers were now looking the other way, shifting awkwardly and coughing here and there. Your husband stared at you with those big orbs of his and he shook his head.
“It’s not a good time, especially with my sister on the loose. Anyway, we have the angles to take care of.” he muttered in a distant tone and faced away to tend to breakfast.
The bathroom had become your personal hell, coming in to only leave with crushed hopes. During the five years you had been married to Chuck you started asking about children two and a half years in. Every time you would bring the subject up, he seemed to have some excuse or would direct the topic to something different.
During these last couple years of trying to land pregnant, it seemed to be getting harder and harder. Almost as if he were purposely laying down a blocking spell to ensure you lack of conceiving. Though you knew he wouldn’t do such a thing without your consent. You gathered the tests into your hands and slowly slid down the wall, head dropping in between your knees. The pressure in your chest begun to build, higher and higher as it soared into infinity, the sobs coming out choked and breathy.
It felt like the world was against you.
Against your wish for children.
Those stupid, singular blue lines on the sticks each felt like a blow to the heart. Maybe, you weren’t ever meant to be a mother. It still didn’t stop the jealousy that raged through you every time a happy couple came along with their own sweet child. A knock came from the door, a soft and gentle one. Almost timid and unsure. You stood, flicking the lock and slowly creaking it open.
There stood the man you loved, still dressed in his pajama lounge pants, plain tee and sweater. His mug gone but his hair still as unruly and unkempt as ever. He grabbed the door slightly and opened it wider, but you pressed a soft hand to his chest and kept him in place.
“ Y/N/N..please let’s talk.”
“ After years of begging and asking and dreaming, you finally want to talk?Here-” And with that, you shove the three wrapped up tests into his hand and looked up to him, his lips barely noticeable through his thick beard.
He slowly peeled them open, already knowing the what the results would be. The negative signs and the blank Were no surprise, although it still broke his heart to see you so distressed over this. His excuses were to keep you safe, to keep you from being tracked by heaven and hell alike. The angles would be fascinated, the rogue would want to kill it and hell? Hell would want to take the baby to use its power to overthrow heaven.
But there was one other reason to why he didn’t want any children.
He already had failed as a father.
You lay in the sheets, naked. Your nightgown still bunched around your hips and his hands brushing over your breasts. Sex was supposed to be about intimacy–yet, this time it felt wrong. It didn’t feel like love anymore, it felt like release. It only felt like a release from the stress and the heart ache.
Chuck buried his face into your neck and slowly pressed kisses down to the crook in his hazy half asleep slumber. Chuck nearly died at the hands of his sister. After all the ruthless fighting he had finally come to a compromise with her after the years of being neglected. She had her own plane to create her own world.
Saying goodbye, both you and Chuck went back ‘home’. A little house in the middle of nowhere and peace. The sex had been tearful and hesitant touches. The morning after now felt like a mess of emotions and…vomit.
You stood quickly, pushing Chuck’s arms away and bolted through the small house naked. You stopped and dropped in front of the bowl, gripping the sides and wrenching up last night’s dinner. You felt dizzy and confused, but with a curious mind you took out a test and went through the slow and painful ritual.
And Chuck stood behind you, robe on and ‘world’s greatest dad’ mug in hand.The steam of coffee slowly billowed off the top as a warm, yet worried smiled crossed his lips.
Maybe this wasn’t that bad after all.
