Summary:Selected chapters from Life’s Lessons told from Dean’s POV. Scenes that you didn’t get his perspective on, or scenes that you didn’t see… now you can. This part takes place after the events of chapters 5-8 of Life’s Lessons.
Warnings:Slight angst, Dean’s self-deprecation rears its ugly head, masturbation, sex dreams
A/N: This is also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story Bingo, square filled: masturbation. I really hope you guys are enjoying seeing a few things from LL from Dean’s perspective, and maybe even a couple things you didn’t see! ;) As always, happy reading and enjoy! :) beta’d by my darling @downanddirtydean.
Dean shut the door, resting his back against the wood, a large exhale leaving him. He closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable feeling to kick in. Sadness. Loneliness. Anger. Regret. He waited for at least one of them to wash over him, but they didn’t. In fact, the only thing he felt was relief.
It was his first time coming back from work to an empty house. Lisa had left a few days ago, both her and Ben driving off in their car. The last thing he saw was the car taking a left at the end of the street, and they were gone. He was of course going to miss the kid, he had really formed a good relationship with Ben, but ultimately it was the right thing for everyone involved that he and Lisa finally broke up and she headed back to Indiana.
As he walked down the hallway, he did feel one of those feelings creep in. Loneliness. For the first time in three years, he was alone. No one to come home to. No one to ask him about his day or greet him with a kiss on the cheek. It only lasted the first year and a half with Lisa, but it was still good while it lasted. He longed for all of that again. To feel wanted by someone. It had never bothered him in the past, to be alone, because he always had something or someone to occupy his time with. He didn’t want to go back to the way he used to be, though. It would be easy to slip back into his old routine, that was true, but he didn’t want to. He didn’t want those things anymore; drinking himself blind or hooking up with women he didn’t know. He was done with that. He had had his fun.
What he wanted, more than anything and especially now that he was free to make that decision, was to be with Y/N. Just like most things in his life though, even that wasn’t going to work out because now she was with someone else. Mark something. Mark, who he had met twice now. Once when he was out with his dad and ran into Y/N and Mark, and then again at her birthday when they were having drinks. Mark, who had insulted him and had earned a punch to his irritatingly perfect teeth next time he saw him. He honestly didn’t know what she saw in him, considering they didn’t seem to have much in common or even have much to talk about. He saw her at the bar when they all had drinks together. She was talking with Charlie and Meg mostly, but even if she tried to make it look like she and Mark had something good, he could see the truth.
Dean sighed as he stopped in front of the kitchen sink. He felt something else start to sink in then. Regret. Regret that he hadn’t called it off with Lisa sooner. If he had, he’d be with Y/N now.
His phone vibrated in his pocket causing him to jump, his hand reaching into his pocket and taking it out. He exhaled deeply, seeing Sam’s name on the screen before he answered. Like an idiot, he forgot he was supposed to meet Sam for drinks and called a rain check. His little brother even offered to come over with pizza, beer, and watch Die Hard, something they did when one of them wasn’t in a good mood, but he told Sam he didn’t need to. He could tell Sammy was worried, and probably didn’t believe him when he reassured him that everything was okay as he put on a light tone to his voice, but there was nothing he could do about that.
Dean hung up and placed his phone on the counter, pushing his hands through his hair as he leaned his elbows against the surface. Maybe he should’ve said yes to meeting Sam so he didn’t have to face the eerie and somewhat depressing silence of his house, but he knew his brother would tell him things he wasn’t ready to hear yet. He lifted his head as he heard a car pull up across the street, his eyes immediately finding Y/N as he looked out the kitchen window. He saw her take out a grocery bag and carry it under one arm, her other holding her phone to her ear. He frowned as he watched her walk across the small path to her porch, throwing her head back as she laughed.
His heart began to beat faster against his ribcage as he felt the urge to go to her, to ask her whether she’d want to have dinner, and maybe finally open up to her about how he was feeling. Now that Lisa was gone, he could finally be honest with her. With the way she was smiling, however, he knew that she was talking to Mark. He stepped back from the counter, shaking his head at his own stupid thoughts. Maybe he was free for them to be together, but she wasn’t.
He made his way down the hallway and into his bedroom, stripping off his clothes before he stepped into the bathroom and left the door slightly ajar. He turned the shower on, making sure the water was warm before he stepped in, pulling the curtain closed. He pressed his hands against the tiled wall, leaning forward as the spray washed down his head and wet his hair, down his shoulders and back. He couldn’t take his mind off Y/N but considering they had spent part of her birthday together despite her insistence that they couldn’t be around each other, he wasn’t surprised by that fact. She had been constantly in his thoughts since they met, and then he kissed her on that fateful night, and everything was different between them.
Suddenly they weren’t just friends and neighbors. They were two people who couldn’t explore their feelings because of their situations. Their timing was never right, with him ending things with Lisa just as Y/N found Mark. None of it was playing it out the way he had hoped, the way he had dreamed on nights he fell asleep beside Lisa but was overwhelmed by thoughts of his beautiful neighbor.
His eyes shut tightly as he felt his cock twitch, his mind getting away from him as he pictured Y/N. He saw her on the night she came over for dinner, laughing and smiling at him, her hand fitting perfectly in his, her lips against his as they forgot about the reality of their situation for a moment and kissed. His hand drifted down, wrapping around his shaft and pumping slowly, his other still pressed into the wall to keep himself steady. He groaned softly as he remembered the feel of her skin against his palms, as his hands slid up her back under her sweater, right before she pushed him away. The scent of her perfume as he kissed along her neck and collarbone drove him insane, nipping at her flesh.
A low growl fell from his lips as memories turned into fantasies, to images of her beneath him, their bodies writhing against each other as he moved deep within her. His hand stroked over his cock a little quicker, his imagination running wild as he heard her moaning his name in the heat of passion, his hands in hers as they stared into each other’s eyes. Their lips fused together in a searing kiss, Dean rolling onto his back as he held her close.
He smiled softly as he pictured her above him, gazing down at him, his hands on her hips as her hips rocked against his. Their movement became frantic as she pressed her hands into his chest, his thrusts faster as he lifted his hips to meet hers. His hand pumped faster, a loud groan leaving him as he felt himself getting closer to his release. His eyes remained closed as he imagined Y/N moaning his name as she reached the peak of ecstasy, a string of expletives along with her name fell from his lips as he reached the edge. A strangled moan left him as his neck strained back, spurts of his seed coating the tiled wall before washing away in the spray of the shower.
He blinked rapidly as he opened his eyes, wiping away the droplets of water from his face as he was hit by a wave of guilt. He sighed heavily as he cleaned himself, turning off the shower and stepping out. He wrapped a dark blue towel around his waist, wiping the fog off the mirror as he stared at himself, leaning his hands on the sink.
No matter how much he wanted Y/N in his life, she had moved on. She was with someone else, and he had to accept that. Even if every fibre in his being was telling him not to, he knew that he had to fight the voices in his head telling him to go after her. She wasn’t free to be with him.
That was something he was going to have to live with from now on.
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Summary: Stuck in motion for too long, Y/N tries to finally live for herself. That’s until she meets a man with crinkles around his eyes and a heart ready to do anything for her to love him.
Pairing: Mechanic!Dean x reader
Characters: Charlie Bradbury, Benny Lafitte, OMC, More as series progresses
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Drinking, Language, Toxic Relationship, More as series progresses
A/N: This is the first bit of writing I’ve had the courage to post, maybe you’ll see it. Maybe you won’t! But it feels good to get it out there. I hope you enjoy it!
Pairings: Reader x Dean, Platonic Sam x Reader, Jessica x Sam, Father!Bobby x Daughter!Reader, Crowley x Reader, Jody Mills, Bobby x Ellen, Mary Winchester
Warnings: Fluff.
Word Count: 2,941
Summary: The Reader moves back to Sioux Falls after college to take care of the home front while Bobby travels for the summer. She is hoping for a quiet place to avoid her past and figure out her broken future. Instead, she finds new complications when she falls for her neighbour.
A/N:Welcome to the end. I just want to say thank you to anyone who has read this far. This story means so much to me and I really appreciate you all enduring the highs and many lows with me. xo
You are in the laundry room early on a Sunday morning. Dean had just come off of a shift, and your little girl is finally starting to understand the value of sleeping in. That means that you are the only one awake. You take this rare moment of quiet to get some things done around the house.
You and Dean never moved out of the house you bought from your father, but it hardly feels like the same place you once knew. The dusty old books and half-empty bottles of whiskey you grew up around are replaced with colourful children’s books and half-empty juice boxes your daughter refuses to finish once they’ve gotten room temperature. She can be quite the picky princess at times, just like her father.
For how long you ached to have a family with Dean, you can honestly say that the real thing is better than any dream you may have envisioned. Raising Karen, the little girl you named after your mother and the one you knew you would have, is the best and most challenging thing you and Dean have ever done or ever will do. After all you two have been through, this will be your defining feat, and you will do it together. Your efforts could all go up in flames, but you’ve walked through fire before, and you’ve come out the other side.
Even on nights when you can’t sleep due to your irrational worrying or on Sunday mornings when you wake up ridiculously early because you know your to-do list is longer than the day or when the stress tempts you to pull your own hair out, you always just look at your little family to ground you. Nothing seems so bad or too overwhelming when you have Dean to lean on and a daughter whose laugh makes all the pressure worthwhile.
Being a wife and mother is not easy. Balancing your family, and your new managing position at the women’s shelter is not easy. However, nothing in your life has ever been easy. It was the toughest and longest road that brought you here, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Those awful memories you still have nightmares about from time to time are a reminder of how lucky you are now. They remind you that if you are willing to work, wait, and fight for the life you want, it will happen.
You hope that your little bug never has to learn that lesson the hard way like you did. You hope that simply passing on what you have learned will be enough. However, even if it isn’t, you intend to be here to help her through it, and you know for a fact Dean will do his damnedest to protect her like he did with you.
Like most mornings when you are left in the quiet, you get lost in your own thoughts. Therefore, you do not notice the crouching tiger behind you.
You are folding Dean’s flannel when you are attacked from behind. Your daughter may be small, but having her spring her dead weight onto you, makes her feel like a sack of bricks. Luckily, over the years, you have grown accustomed to her ‘surprise hugs’ as she calls them. You learned long ago that the only way to prevent her from falling to the ground is to grasp whatever limb is closest and hoist her up into your arms.
“Did I scare you?” The eager child interrogates you. She loves getting a rise out of you, that is something else she gets from her father.
“Who me?” You exaggerate a scoff. “No way, bug!” You scrunch up your face to look extra tough. “I’m not scared of anything!” you lie, because you know it annoys her when she thinks she has failed to scare you. She’s so cute when she puffs annoyance. “You’ll have to try harder next time.”
“You’re a liar! I saw you jump! I scared you!” Your daughter calls you on your bullshit, another trait she inherited from Dean.
“Alright… maybe just a little… but don’t tell your father. Him and I are keeping score on who you can scare more, and I don’t want to lose again. So… why don’t you do your mommy a favour and keep this between us. Deal?” You will resort to bribery if it means you won’t lose yet another bet against Dean.
“Deal!” Your daughter agrees as she puts her pointer finger to her lips. “Now, come on! Breakfast!”
You set your daughter down when she starts squirming with excitement. “What do you want to eat?”
“You’ll see,” the spit fire grins at you before barrelling up the stairs toward the kitchen. You are trailing close behind her when you hear her starting to yell. “Daddy! It worked! I scared her! You win!”
“Traitor!” you bellow from the doorway of the kitchen when you see your own daughter has ratted you out to the enemy.
Dean hands his daughter the cookie he promised her as he turns to smirk at you. “Don’t hate the player, sweetheart. It’s not my fault you insist on making bets you know you cannot win.”
“Had I known you would play dirty, I would have rethought my tactics! I’ll get you next time, Winchester.” You warn him of his impending doom.
“You can try, sweetheart.” Dean walks over to you and wraps his arms around you. “But, you will fail.” Dean kisses your cheek. He avoids your lips because you imagine his daughter pulled him out of bed and into the kitchen before giving him the chance to even brush his teeth.
“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. It’s hard for you to even keep up the charade of annoyance when you are secured in Dean’s arms. “What are you even doing up so early? You must be exhausted after your shift yesterday.”
“I got my four hours. I’m good to go.” Dean shrugs but you can see the sleep he longs for behind his eyes. You recognize it because you see it whenever you look into a mirror as well. “Besides, I’m not going to waste my day off in bed away from my girls… unless you want to ditch the kid and come join me in bed,” Dean whispers to you with a wink.
“As tempting as that is…” you hold Dean a little closer, because that sounds so nice right now. “I have a feeling your daughter won’t like the idea of us locking ourselves away and ignoring her all day. She’s an attention whore… just like her Daddy.” You smile at him. “Besides, someone has to make sure she doesn’t burn the place down,” you inform him.
“Right… because burning the place down is your job,” Dean teases you with a wicked grin.
“You are such an asshole,” you laugh with him as you shake your head. He never lets you forget the irony of a fireman’s wife burning down your first home together. Over time, Dean has learned to see the humour in the situation. You, however, still pretend to be annoyed whenever he brings it up. As usual, however, he sees through you.
“Watch your language,” Dean mocks you. “We are among the impressionable youth,” Dean laughs as he cocks his head in the direction of your daughter who is setting her stuffed ladybug, named Jeremy, at his usually seat at the table.
“She’s heard you say worse,” you defend yourself.
“True,” he concedes. “So, that is a definitive no to spending the day in bed with me?”
“Unless you want to come out tomorrow morning to find your spawn had brought her little collection of bugs in from outside and started an ant farm in the living room… I would advise against leaving her unattended all day,” you inform him.
Dean lowers his forehead to yours and smiles. “Stupid parental responsibilities,” Dean groans, but you can tell he finds his daughter’s propensity for trouble and interest in insects to be amusing.
“I know right… what did we get ourselves into?” You play along.
All of the sudden, you feel your daughter pushing you and Dean apart. She worms her way in between you two and holds up a single pancake on a glass plate.
“Here, mommy.” The little girl hands you the plate with an innocent smile. “I made this for you! Daddy helped a bit…” she concedes, “but it was my idea.” You see a brief flicker of inherited mischief in her eyes, but you brush it off because you are warmed by her sweet gesture.
“Thank you, bug!” You kiss her cheek and take a hesitant bite. Your daughter is not known for her skill in the kitchen. You know that if she was in charge of making breakfast, you should brace yourself for a cold, flat, and runny pancake.
You take your first bite with every intention of gritting your teeth and faking different yummy noises until she turns away and you can spit it out without her knowing.
However, what you weren’t expecting was for the pancake to be spicy of all things. The shock to your senses prevents you from even faking a swallow. Your tongue burns and you instinctively spit the pancake back out onto the plate. Your face scrunches up as you fan your mouth.
You look at daughter and are about to ask her why the usually sweet food tasted like she used hot sauce instead of water in the mix. However, before you can say a word, you hear her and her father, fall into a fit of laughter as they high five each other. You know instantly that they were in on this together.
“You two are evil,” you say as you wipe your mouth.
“You were right, Daddy. She did fall for it!” the little girl squeals with wicked delight.
“Every time, squirt.” Dean matches her self-satisfaction. “Your mommy is an easy target.” Dean then looks up at you with a wink. “After all these years, you’ve still never learned your lesson. You should know by now to be wary of any unexpected gifts.”
“I am usually expecting those pranks from you… but not your conniving mini-me.” You gesture to your spawn. “You are such a bad influence on her, Dean Winchester.” You feign an exaggerated scowl, but you love how he has made it his life’s mission to find a new way to make your daughter smile every day. “You know this means war, right?” You set the plate on the table.
“Bring it on, sweetheart. You’ll be begging for a truce before noon,” Dean says so sure of himself.
“You think so?” You meet his challenge.
“I do,” Dean puffs out his chest before wrapping himself around you.
You start to wiggle out of Dean’s arms when you look over his shoulder. You see your crouching tiger is about to pounce yet again. This time, she sets her sights on Dean. She usually strikes on him after lulling him into a false sense of camaraderie and security. She lands on your husband, and startles his tired and unsuspecting body.
You can’t help but laugh as he scrambles to make sure he doesn’t drop her dead weight. “Not so funny when she does it to you, now is it?”
Dean has some choice words for you, but such colourful trash talk is not appropriate for a child’s ears. So, he merely sticks his tongue out at you. However, his daughter mimics his actions, which Dean thinks it is hilarious.
“Don’t teach her things like that! She gets enough sass lessons from her Uncle Sammy. I don’t need you piling on. We’re going to raise a little monster at this rate.” You stick your tongue out at Dean in return, thus undermining your every word.
“Daddy started it!” She blurts out. You can’t help but laugh as your little demon reverts back into her angelic persona.
“Hey! Your mom was right, you are a traitor.” Dean maneuvers his daughter, so she is slung over his shoulder. He decides to tickle her feet as punishment.
The problem is, in her fit of giggles, she loses control. Her flailing legs knock over the cup of coffee Dean had put on the table for you.
The hot liquid splashes onto your t-shirt, and you hiss in restrained pain, so you don’t freak your daughter out. Dean inspects his daughter’s feet to make sure she wasn’t burned herself before putting her down. Dean then tends to you to make sure the coffee didn’t burn you too bad.
“I’m so sorry, mommy!” Your daughter cries out when she realizes what she’s done. She is a sassy little trouble maker that loves pushing people’s buttons, but she is too kind to ever want to cause any real trouble, let alone inflict any pain. She doesn’t have it in her to even hurt a fly, so you know she would feel terrible if she were to accidentally hurt you. She just keeps repeating her apologies over and over again.
“It’s okay, bug.” You assure her. Even though the burn hurts, hearing the panic in her little voice hurts more. “Everyone is fine. It’s just a spill.”
Dean helps you lift your loose t-shirt off your body, so the hot coffee doesn’t linger on you. You now end up standing there in your sports bra and leggings.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dean whispers. He knows you will answer honestly if you know Karen won’t hear.
“I’m fine,” you assure them both. “At least now we know that next time… maybe the kitchen isn’t the best place for an impromptu tickle fight.” You brush off the incident as something you can move past. You are about to leave to go find another shirt, but are interrupted by a name you thought you would never hear your daughter say.
“J…Jake.” Your little girl says the name slowly, as if she is sounding it out.
You look at Dean with wide eyes as your heart stops. You never wanted that name in your daughter’s innocent mouth. Dean narrows his eyes with confusion. You both turn to where your daughter is staring at the faded scar on your ribs.
Over the years you have tried different creams or oils to minimize the scar. However, the name Jake carved into your skin has always persisted. At Dean’s insistence, you stopped trying to remove it. He said that you shouldn’t be ashamed of your past. Dean urged you to wear your battle scars with victory. He says that when he looks at you, he doesn’t see a branded victim of her past. When Dean looks at you, he sees his wife, the mother of his child. He sees the entire picture that is made of many beautifully messy parts.
You and Dean have moved so far past that chapter of your life, you often forget the scar is there. The woman who gained that mark will always be a part of you. However, she is a faded, but never forgotten, memory, much like the scar itself. She is someone you carry, but do not dwell on. So, hearing your daughter speak the name you haven’t spoken in years, was an off-putting jolt of reality you weren’t expecting.
“Mommy, why does your skin say that name?” The curious little girl scrunches her face as she walks up to you. She reaches up and traces her tiny fingers over the scarred name.
You look to Dean for guidance, as you always do with this sort of thing. And as always, Dean’s reassuring nod and soft smile instills you with enough strength to say what you need to say.
“That’s a long story, bug.” You crouch down to her level. “I’ll tell you about it one day when you’re older.” You look up at Dean and smile.
You both know you probably will never tell her the entire story. There are some parts of your history she doesn’t need to know. You won’t burden her with the entire truth. She doesn’t need to know the specifics on how Jake died. She doesn’t need to know any of the gory details that still keep you and Dean wake some nights.
However, your daughter deserves to know that not all men are like her father. She needs to be prepared. She cannot expect every man to be good and deserving. You don’t want to scare her or dim her light, but you need her to be safe. Your history will be her cautionary tale. At the same time, your present, will be her source of courage and hope.
You will pair your past with the message that it is okay to trust people, but it is also important to trust yourself. She may not know right off the bat whether she is letting the right one in, but you want to instil her with enough confidence and enough esteem to make that decision for herself and in the name of her own happiness.
The life you built for yourself after the worst of it, is what matters most. The hero at your side, the man who built you up from nothing, not as his ideal, but as the person you have always wanted to be, he is what matters. He is the type of man you wish to see in your daughter’s future. Most of all, you wish that your daughter’s journey to find her one true home in this world is not as long as yours was, but you do hope it is every bit as fulfilling.
Pairings: Reader x Dean, Platonic Sam x Reader, Jessica x Sam, Father!Bobby x Daughter!Reader, Crowley x Reader, Jody Mills, Bobby x Ellen, Mary Winchester
Warnings: Fluff… sickening amounts of fluff. It’s gross… I’m just warning you.
Word Count:4,544
Summary: The Reader moves back to Sioux Falls after college to take care of the home front while Bobby travels for the summer. She is hoping for a quiet place to avoid her past and figure out her broken future. Instead, she finds new complications when she falls for her neighbour.
“So… what now?” You give Dean a sheepish smile as he wheels you out of the hospital. You’ve been discharged, but you’re not sure where you will be going. You burned down Dean’s house, something he refuses to allow you to apologize for, even if you still feel awful about it.
“Now… we go home.” Dean answers as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“And home is… where exactly?” You wait for Dean to finish your sentence, because you have no clue.
“Wherever my girls are,” Dean responds with a dorky smile. You still don’t know the sex of your baby, but you have convinced Dean you are sure it’s a girl and he has been playing along.
“Gross,” you feign a gag. “You are so cheesy! Before long you’ll be telling dad jokes and wearing loafers.”
“Thank you,” Dean takes your obvious slight as a compliment. “Don’t lie, sweetheart… you know I’d look damn good in loafers.”
“Well, you already have the dad bod working for you,” you wink at him.
“Sammy said I should expect you to get a little frisky by the end of your first trimester, I guess I should have known you’d be an early bloomer,” Dean mocks you.
“What can I say? The thought of you in loafers,” you hum, “I just can’t help myself,” you roll your eyes at him with a genuine laugh.
“I know you are being sarcastic… but I am choosing to ignore it.” Dean keeps on leading you toward his car that is parked nearby.
After a moment of silence, you look up at Dean. “So… Sam knows… about the baby?” You two haven’t really discussed telling people. It feels too early for you, but if Dean has already let the cat out of the bag, there’s nothing you can do about it.
“Yeah… it just kind of came out when he stopped by after you fell asleep last night. I told him to keep it zipped until we decide to tell everyone else. I know you probably want to wait until we can wrap our own minds around it, but… there’s no reason for us to believe this is anything but a normal pregnancy. Meg says we have nothing to worry about.”
“Like that will actually stop us from worrying,” you scoff but with a smile.
Dean can do nothing but give you an understanding nod. No matter your mutual assurances, you both will always have this nagging pit in your stomachs until your due date actually arrives.
“Dean, what are we doing back here?” you ask as Dean pulls onto a familiar street. You can see the charred remains of Dean’s house up ahead. You hesitate to look directly at it. You don’t want to see the damage you caused. “There’s nothing left. Why are we here?”
“Bear with me for a minute.” Dean parks and gets out of the car. He comes around to help you out of the car as well. “Now, you can say no… I will totally understand if you don’t want to, but since your dad’s house hasn’t sold yet… he offered it to us for a more than fair price.”
You look and see a sold sign over the aging for-sale sign. You were never sure why the house never sold. Sure, it is a fixer-upper, and the next-door neighbour is a bit nosey, but you thought it was obvious to everyone who stepped inside that it was homey and solid.
“I know I should have talked to you about it first, but I just wanted you to have something to come home to that would be ours again. It won’t be forever. Hell, I don’t know what the school system is like around here,” Dean starts to ramble about the future he is nervous about facing. “But, for now… I think it’s our best option. It’s either this or we go stay with my mom. You know I love that woman, but we’ll be getting married in a few days, and I don’t really want to spend my wedding night down the hall from my mom’s room.” Dean smiles but he is not joking. “We could stay at a motel… but I thought you’d be more comfortable getting settled in a-”
“Dean… slow down,” you turn away from the house and put your hand on his chest. “Iburned down your house. So, youboughtme a new one?” You try to wrap your mind around his logic.
“You didn’t burn down my house,” Dean tries to defend you, but you raise a brow up at him. “Okay… you did, but it was an accident. We were due for a change of scenery anyway… a place that was ours. Maybe now you’ll stop calling it my house. Besides, your dad gave me a fair price, and the insurance from the fire will cover most of it.” Dean shrugs it off, but you cannot understand why he isn’t mad at you for destroying everything he’s ever worked to own.
“But, all your stuff… it’s all gone. Your furniture. Your clothes. Your dad’s stuff. It’s all gone because I left some candles unattended.” You are trying to get him to tell you he is mad. You want him to blame you. You deserve for him to get pissed and tell you that you ruined everything, but that moment never comes.
“I’m still waiting for you to give me a good reason why I should be mad. The only thing that matters is you. The important thing is you two made it out in one piece. The rest… I can live without.” Dean shrugs again, but this time you are starting to get it.
Dean leads you inside your new shared home. It is a lot bigger than you remember. There’s no furniture, no knickknacks, and no pictures. Your father had completely emptied the place out for whoever the new owners would be. You guess he didn’t suspect it would be you.
“I know it doesn’t look like much right now. It’s probably not as homey as you are used to it feeling, but I think we can pull something off to make it ours.” Dean looks around at the walls that need a fresh coat of paint and the flooring that could use a polish. He sees the potential and he hopes you do too.
“It already is… ours. You could have put us up in some run down motel and I would have been right at home. My true home is wherever you are,” you curl into Dean’s side.
“Crap. Had I known that, I would have saved us a lot of money,” Dean teases you.
“Shut up, this is perfect. I love it. No backsies!” You smile up at Dean.
“Now who is the cheese ball?” Dean teases you.
“Still you,” you remind him. “So, how long do you think it’ll take us to fill this house up with crap we don’t need?” You ask Dean as you both examine all this empty space.
“I’d give us five…maybe ten days tops,” Dean jokes. “Hopefully we’ll get some good loot from the wedding this weekend. I hope it is stuff we could actually use, but knowing our luck, we’ll get nine gravy boats but not even a simple plate.”
“Speaking of the wedding…” you are afraid to ask, but you have to. “I know compared to everything we have lost or could have lost,” you put your hand over your belly, “this probably doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, and I am just being a baby for worrying about it… but… my wedding dress… it was hanging in the guest room closet when the fire broke out. Is there any chance it didn’t burn?” You crinkle your face in preparation for the bad news.
Dean gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry, kid. The dress is gone. Cas went through the entire house. He only found a hand full of things that survived, all useless crap we didn’t really need in the first place, so the dress… didn’t make it.”
“That’s fine,” you lie. You try not to cry because you don’t want Dean to think you are being selfish. You torched everything you both own, but you tear up over a stupid dress. That doesn’t seem rational, but it’s the truth. Ever since you bought it, you had been dying to see the look on Dean’s face when he saw you in that elegant and form-fitting dress. Now, you don’t know what you’ll wear or how you’ll look when he sees you coming down the aisle.
Dean can sense that the realization of losing everything is starting to hit you. Not to mention, the stress of all the things you must redo for the wedding in such a short time is starting to eat away at you; it is manifesting by you literally gnawing on your bottom lip.
“Your dad did mention he left something for you in your old room.” Dean says because he knows the surprise will ease your mind.
Dean helps you up the steps. He guides you to the room but leaves you alone. He says he needs to call Sam and Jess to let them know you two are back from the hospital. The couple offered to come by and donate an old mattress they had lying around to hold you two over until you could buy a new one.
You wave him off and hobble over to your closet that has a note taped to the door:
Something old.
You open the closet door, and nearly lose your balance when you see what your father left you. You pull out your mother’s old wedding dress and hold it up to the light. You spin the dress around and see another note pinned to the bottom of the skirt:
Something blue.
You burst out laughing at the light blue popsicle stain that has been on the dress since you were a child. When you were six years old, you snuck into your mother’s closet and tried the dress on. However, you had just had a blue popsicle and didn’t realize just how sticky your fingers were. You felt terrible and cried over the stain you left on the lacy material until your mother got home from work. You were so scared she would be mad at you.
Your mother only laughed, and told you not to be sad. She said every bride needs something blue on her wedding day anyways, and the stain only adds history to already memorable dress.
“What’s so funny?” Dean asks as he leans against the doorway, watching you smile to yourself.
“No!” You try and hide the dress from his sight line by tossing it back in the closet. “You can’t see my dress… you aren’t supposed to see it until this weekend! Shoo! We are already cursed, Dean. We can’t press our luck.”
“We’re not cursed,” Dean laughs at you, “We’re just… accident prone.”
You laugh with him as you realize how right he is. “Still… please… I want one normal tradition left intact. We are already living in sin and pregnant,” you giggle at how happy that still makes you. “We should do one thing by the book. We should do something the normal way for once, just this once.”
Dean scrunches his face and shakes his head. “Who would want something merely normal when we can have the exceptional?” He wraps his arms around you and kisses you lightly.
“Well… when you put it like that…” you hum against him.
“Now, before we got sidetracked with your little firework show…” Dean laughs at you when you push him away and roll your eyes at him. You bury your face in your hands in embarrassment. “Before we got distracted… I remember you saying something about finding the perfect song for our first dance.”
“You want to hear it … now?” you ask. You figured he would want to get busy setting up your new home, not waste time goofing off. You should have known better.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. I want to dance to it.” Dean holds out his hand for you to take. “What do you say, kid? How about we screw up one more tradition and have our first dance before we’re even married?”
You take his offered hand, loving the idea of embracing your oddities. “I don’t know how graceful I’ll be.” You point to your casted ankle.
“Funny, I was just about to say the same thing.” Dean smiles and points to his bowed legs. “Good thing no one is around to see us. It’s only us, sweetheart.”
With that assurance, you feel like you do anything.
You pull out your phone and queue up the song you chose. As the soft introduction plays, you fall into Dean’s arms and let him hold you as you sway toward your future together.
You probably should have postponed the wedding. With all that has happened in this past week, you two didn’t need the added stress of putting on a spectacle for your friends and family. However, you both discussed it, and realized that being married is exactly what you need. The actual wedding is just a formality that leads to your end goal, being Dean’s wife.
You decided that any hiccup that happens will be laughed off and anything that is unfinished or imperfect will merely be shrugged off. The only thing that matters to you, is hearing Dean say ‘I Do.’ Besides, you two wouldn’t be you unless some mishap occurs. At this point, you are expecting something unexpected to happen.
As it turns out, you are glad you made that promise with yourself. It is pouring rain, so you had to move your outdoor ceremony to the unoccupied, and undecorated, room of the reception hall. The florist seemed to have forgotten that you said you hated carnations. Jess’ dress wouldn’t zip up all the way thanks to her growing belly, and your makeup artist was double booked, so Jo had to do your makeup. Not to mention, Dean forgot to pack his fancy shoes and is now stuck wearing his ratty old boots.
The only upside is that Rumsfeld is over the moon that Cas is his escort for the ceremony. Ever since Cas saved him from the fire, Rumsfeld has become obsessed with his dark-haired angel. He refuses to leave Cas’ side, which is good because you know he’ll stay out of trouble that way.
You haven’t even set foot down the aisle, and the day is already starting to feel like a disaster. At the same time, however, it is also the best day of your life. This disaster of a day so perfectly fits the larger themes of your relationship. You would have been suspicious if everything went off without a hitch. What others would see as a string of bad luck, you see as just another Saturday. Nothing can ruin this day for you.
The music starts up and you take a deep breath. You turn the corner and see Dean waiting for you at the end of the aisle, and just as you predicted, none of the other details matter. The fact that you are surrounded by ugly flowers, the make-shift altar is all but falling over, and one of your eyebrows is darker than the other, doesn’t matter. None of it matters when you see Dean smiling at you across the room. As all of the guests turn and stand for your entrance, you only have eyes for Dean. He is all you see and all you need to make this moment as perfect as it feels. In your mind, you two are the only people in the room.
“Last chance to make a run for it, kid.” Bobby whispers as he takes your arm and starts leading you forward.
“Hush,” you elbow him and return your attention to your soon-to-be husband.
You hate how your stupid ankle is making you walk so slow toward him. If you had it your way, you would have already run into his arms by now. You can tell Dean’s impatience is getting the better of him as well because he starts walking toward you, meeting you halfway down the aisle. For a second you fear he is making a run for it, but he simply scoops you into his arms and carries you bridal-style, which seems fitting, down to where you need to be.
You can hear an array of laughter from your guests, and you can see Sam roll his eyes at his brother’s impatience. You understand Dean’s urgency to get this show on the road, because it matches your own. You want nothing more than to be his wife before something else goes wrong.
“Nice eyebrows,” Dean whispers in a mocking tone.
You smack his chest with your hideous bouquet, but laugh with him because you know you probably look a little funny since Jo’s only credentials as a makeup artist is watching a handful of tutorials online.
“Nice boots,” you retort.
Dean smiles as he wiggles his toes inside his shoes. “You look beautiful,” he corrects himself. You look up at him and see he means it. Even after all this time, the way he looks at you with such adoration still makes your cheeks warm up and your lips curl into a shy smile.
“You clean up well yourself,” you compliment him as you flatten the skirt of your mother’s dress, loving the feeling of having a little piece of her with you in this moment.
You two are still whispering amongst yourselves as the officiant does the usual introduction. You told him to speed it up a bit, and skip all of the mumbo jumbo. It isn’t so much about wanting to get it over with, you just want to be married to the man you love already.
“The couple has written their own vows… this should be interesting.” The traditionalist officiant says in an unamused tone. You and Dean can’t help but laugh at that. “Dean, would you care to start.”
Dean clears his throat.
“When we first met, I didn’t really like you.” Dean starts off blunt which makes you laugh. “You were a royal pain in my ass… you still are… but I understand it better now. I didn’t like how you got under my skin. I didn’t like how you busted my balls one minute then made me feel like tactless jerk the next. I hated how you looked at me. I hated how you could see me… the parts of me that I thought were shovelled down so deep they would never see the light of day again. I hated how you shined your light on every piece of me… the good, the bad, the downright scary, and the very ugly. I don’t even think you realized what you were doing, but I hated how you looked up to me like I was supposed to be your hero, when I wasn’t even sure if I could keep my own head above water. That pressure was daunting, and I didn’t think I could live up to be the man I wanted to be for you.”
“Shut up, you are my hero.” You cut in because you don’t want to hear him talk down about himself. He is every bit the man you knew he could be, and then some.
“I also hate how you interrupt me before I’m finished,” Dean laughs at you. “What I was about to say before I was so rudely interrupted,” Dean winks at you, “was that I hated when you looked at me like that because I was terrified I could never be the man you deserve, that I could never be enough for you. I didn’t think I could measure up. Even when you are at your most vulnerable, you are the strongest person I’ve ever met. Even at your darkest, you are my source of light. For the first time in my life, you made me feel like… like I was… like I am enough. When I am with you, I don’t feel selfish for wanting my own happiness, I just enjoy it. You make me enjoy life again. You not only make me want to be better, but you make me believe that I am capable of being better, that I deserve better.” Dean pauses to look down at his shoes when he hears the audience cooing at him.
You can tell he is unfamiliar, and a little uncomfortable, talking about his feelings in such a public setting. So, you squeeze his hands a little tighter to remind him you two are the only people in the room.
“So, I guess I just need you to know that I will spend every day of the rest of my life working to be the man who is worthy of that look, worthy of your light, worthy to be your hero, and worthy to be your husband. I promise I won’t let you down… either of you,” Dean adds that last part so only you can hear. No one knows about the baby yet, so that last part was just for you.
You blame your watering eyes being hormonal, but you know the true source of your tears is in Dean’s promises.
“Fuck,” you say under your breath, and the officiant rolls his eyes at you. “Sorry,” you apologize when you realize you’ve been heard. “I’m just not sure how I am supposed to follow that. I wish I had gone first.“
“Never apologize,” Dean reminds you with a smile.
“Right,” you nod to yourself. “I never thought that being told how annoying I have been would sound so damn sweet,” you wipe your tears away with a joke to buy yourself some time to recover.
“I just tell it like it is, sweetheart.”
“Okay, shush, it’s my turn.” You need to get this over with before you start crying again.
“You’re already telling me what to do?” Dean shakes his head. “What have I gotten myself into?”
“Shut your face and listen.” You try to stifle a mix of tears and laughter, but that’s when the realization hits you. “I just told you to shut up,” you say out loud but mostly to yourself. “I’ve been telling you to shut up for a while now. I have been pushing your buttons since day one, and have enjoyed every minute of it. I love getting a rise out of you. I love being a pain in your ass, and most amazingly, I can do it while looking you dead in the eyes.” You keep talking and disregard the speech you had planned out beforehand. “To anyone else here, that might not seem like a big deal. To any normal person, goofing around, teasing banter, and general happiness is a typical part of every relationship dynamic, but for me, that was never the case until I met you.”
Dean can see where you are going and steps in a little closer. To his surprise, you do not shrink away from the honesty like you have in the past. You stand tall and look him in the eyes.
“Before you, I may as well have been afraid of my own shadow. Hell, I was too afraid to even ask for a ride home in the rain,” you smile at the memory that feels like a lifetime ago. “So, for me to stand here today and realize that I can tell you to shut up, to your face, and without an ounce of fear or dread, it is a weird feeling, but an amazing one. Before you, I never knew that being tied to one person could be so freeing. That sense of interconnected freedom is something I never knew existed. This sense of unconditional love is not something thought I’d ever be lucky enough to experience for myself.”
Dean smiles at you and you feel the truth of your words wash over you.
“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it until the day I die. You saved me, Dean Winchester. Any strength, any light, and any ounce of hope you see in me has only cracked through my surface because of you. I don’t think I’ve ever said this properly, so I guess now is as good a time as any.” You let Dean wipe away a tear that has fallen down your cheek before you continue. “Thank you.” You say what you should have said a long time ago. “Thank you for setting me free but never letting me wander alone. Thank you for holding me accountable to my own potential, and to our potential as a family. Thank you for never giving up on me, even when I gave you every reason to and all but begged you to. Thank you for being the kind of man that lets me grow and not taking that betterment as a personal threat. Thank you for being you, the kind of man with which I can build a safe and happy home. Thank you for making the cruel voices in my head that once told me I could never deserve this kind of love sing to me instead. So, in return, I also promise I won’t ever let you down… either of you,” you add that last part so only Dean can hear.
“Do you, Dean Winchester, take Y/N Singer as your wife?” The officiant skips to the good part.
“You bet I do,” Dean says the words so effortlessly yet so true. You take the ring you had specially made for him and slip it onto his pinky finger. He lets out a soft laugh because he had a suspicion that you were going to get him a wedding band that matches your specialized engagement rings. He thinks it’s perfect. He’ll wear the band on his pinky finger with more pride than he thought possible.
“Do you, Y/N Singer, take Dean Winchester as your husband?”
“I do,” you all but squeal as you hold out your hand for Dean to finally slip your wedding ring on. He laughs when he sees you are wearing both of your engagement rings.
Dean shows you your ring for the first time. It doesn’t have a traditional set of diamonds. Instead, the small and clear diamond is cut in the shape of a tiny butterfly. It looks exactly like the plastic ring he stole for you, only this one is for an adult. The fact Dean customized a ring that replicates the one you cherish so much makes you smile. You love how he is a secret romantic. You love how he listened to you when you told him how much you love your hunk of cheap plastic.
“You’re going to need longer fingers if you insist on wearing all three rings every damn day,” Dean whispers to you as he slips your ring onto your pinky finger next to the others.
“Just shut up and kiss me,” you beam as you pull on Dean tie and let the man finally kiss his bride.
A/N:The prologue ONLY will be in Dean’s POV. All other chapters will be from the eyes of our lovely protagonist, Y/N.
Warnings: Nothing in this part. BUT PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS OF EACH INDIVIDUAL CHAPTER.
Word Count: 386
Life after defeating God was…..boring, at first. Sure there were still some supernatural beings terrorizing towns across the nation but it was mostly simple salt and burns; nothing like Sam and I used to worry about.
Besides with alll the hunters out there now, we worried even less. There were no more speeding away from home to rush into battle with anything. They could handle it and they were. The reports came in less and less.
It’s been 3 years since that final battle at the lakefront. 36 months since Jack absorbed God’s power and took over heaven. And what a magnificent job he was doing; of course with Cas’ help.
That’s right. Castiel, angel of the Lord, is in Heaven where he should be. I’m not even sure how, but Jack negotiated with the Empty for my best friend’s soul.
Once we were settled into the new way of life, I decided I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing. We weren’t hurting for money, thanks to those credit cards Charlie set up for us all those years ago but I’m not one to be idle. It’s just not in me not to be doing something.
So I got a job at a mechanic’s shop, working with my hands on all types of equipment.
After a while, and a whole lot of discussion, Sam decided to finish his education. He switched majors though. Instead of becoming a lawyer he studied to become a teacher. My baby brother now molds the minds of young children. God (or would it be Jack now) help them!
Nah, I’m kidding. Sam is a great educator; calm, cool and collected. The kids adore him.
And I know this because of Y/N. Who is Y/N, you ask? Well let me tell you. She is a very good friend and an awesome baker. Her pies are spectacular, as is all the sweet treats she makes. But she knows I love her pies the most.
She is also an amazing mother. Her daughter Camilia, or Cammie for short, is in Sam’s class. Cammie tells me all the time what a great teacher my little brother is. It makes me proud. Y/N and Cammie are the best thing to ever happen to me.
I’m still coming up with a summary for this but let’s use this excerpt as one for now:
“You’re my father.”
Those three words threw Dean Winchester for a loop and turned his life on its head.
Standing in the open doorway of his meager home, he felt as if all the air had been punched out of his lungs when those words were declared.
And, the shocker of it was that he knew who had uttered them. He knew the child, he was very good friends with her mother. Hell, he had even babysat her before!
But, never in a million years, had he ever thought she could be his offspring, his child, his daughter.
