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waywardxwords · 6 months

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Home

Summary: All you wanted was a place to call home with Dean. You envisioned a home in the mountains with spectacular views, a wrap-around porch with a swing and somewhere you could build a life. (I guess this could be classified as AU, as this takes place after Season 15 and [SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED SPN] Dean is still alive, clearly, in this story lol)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: Slight language, lots of fluff!

A/N: This was meant to be Day 7 of the #flufftober (@flufftober) challenge - thanks to the flu taking over my household for the last week, I've fallen off the posting wagon a bit. The prompt was: Porch Swing. I hope you enjoy!

There was an overwhelming chill to the bunker—more so than usual. A shudder fell over you as your sock covered toes padded towards the kitchen, the coolness cut through the wool. A frown pulled across your face in discomfort as you pulled your arms around your chest in hopes that you might find some warmth.

“Mornin’, sweetheart,” his voice was extra raspy in the grogginess of the morning as you turned the corner into the kitchen. He took a pull from the steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

“Ugh, Dean,” you grumbled as you searched for your own coffee mug.

“Somebody’s chipper this morning,” he teased as his eyes moved over you. “You wake up on the wrong side of the bed?” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Yeah, the cold side,” as if on cue, your body shivered. Dean stood with a soft smile and made his way over to you in his gray t-shirt, black sweatpants and fluffy slippers. “See! It’s an icebox in here. You’re cold, too!” You pointed to his slippers, feeling validated as your body involuntarily shuddered once more.

“Oh, please,” he cocked his head at you in a teasing manner. “Baby, I’m a freakin’ furnace.” He planted a soft kiss on your lips and wrapped you in his arms until you were firmly against his chest. His arms rubbed up and down your back, and you had to admit you did feel a little bit of warmth take over the cold.

“Dean, this bunker is a dungeon,” your voice was hidden in the crook of his neck.

“I know, I know,” he appeased, as this wasn’t the first time he had heard you complain about your living situation.

“Sam and Eileen settled down in a house. I know it’s a sticky subject…” you pulled back just so you could see his face, your arms still wrapped around his lower back.

He studied you for a moment before he spoke again. “I know, I hear you,” he sighed. “We won’t be in the bunker forever, I promise.”

You tried so hard not to roll your eyes, so you closed them instead. Take a breath, you told yourself; it’s not worth the fight. “I just…I just don’t understand why we can’t find a cute little cabin tucked away somewhere. A wrap-around porch, a swing that overlooks the mountains…I could make us sweet tea in the summer and apple cider in the fall.”

“We will, baby. I promise,” he emphasized the last word. He moved his head down to drop another quick kiss on your lips. “How ‘bout you go get ready and we take a drive, hmm?” He proposed with a quick smack on your ass.

“Dean,” you groaned, but you obliged as he pulled away from your embrace.

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he winked as he reached for his mug and took another sip. “I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you muttered. The chill of the bunker returned without his contact, much to your disappointment. “You’ve been making a lot of promises, Dean Winchester.”

“All of which I fully intend to keep, if you just hurry the hell up,” you tried to escape him as he poked at your side. You shuffled down the hall of the bunker, cursing every step as you tried to find warmth.

It wasn’t much warmer outside the bunker on this October morning, but the sunshine brought a much needed warmth as you sat in the passenger seat of the Impala.

“You wanna tell me where we’re going?” You glanced at the man in the driver’s seat. The rising sun set him in a yellowish-orange glow that made your heart swell. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced between you and the open Kansas road.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “It’s gonna be a little bit of a drive.” You chewed at the inside of your lip in thought.

“Hmm,” you hummed. “Can you tell me how long of a drive?” Surprises weren’t your thing, and Dean knew that.

He couldn’t help the laugh that rumbled in his chest as he shook his head but reached down in the car door for his phone. After a quick glance, and with the utmost certainty you couldn’t see his screen, he slid it back in the door. “About six and a half hours, give or take,” he glanced back at you with a smirk when he noticed the way your thoughts overtook the features across your face.

“Six and a half hours?! Dean! Where the heck are we going?” Your voice had risen as you turned to stare at the man you had to remind yourself you loved in that moment. “I didn’t pack anything! I can’t imagine you’re gonna drive us there and back in one day…” your voice trailed off as you contemplated once more how much you hated surprises.

“Alright, take a breath,” Dean grumbled but reached across the bench seat and placed a calming hand on your knee. You found his gaze once more. “I’ve got it covered, alright? You trust me?”

You did as he said and took a breath before you nodded. “I trust you.”

He nodded as well. “Good, now sit back and relax.” He reached for your hand and brought it to his lips lovingly, his stubble tickled your skin.

You waited a moment, before you continued. “Can I ask you something? Since we have six and a half hours, and all…” you gave him a look.

He chuckled but nodded. “Shoot,” he encouraged.

“Why the bunker?” The question was simple, but you weren’t sure if you had asked it the right way. It was a thought that had played over and over in your brain as time had gone on. You had moved into the bunker, at Dean’s request, almost three years ago now. Sam had left almost a year ago to move into a home with Eileen. They were planning their wedding, and living a mostly normal life.

“Why do we live in the bunker?” He asked as he glanced at you for confirmation. You nodded, and he took a moment (or three) to contemplate the answer. He kept his eyes on the road as he continued. You were ready for him to give some sarcastic response or change the subject entirely, but to your surprise, he didn’t. “As long as I can remember, we’ve been on the road. After the fire…after mom–we were on the move.” You knew all of this already, but you didn’t interrupt him because it felt important. “I never really told anyone this, well–except Sam–but I always wanted a place to call home, you know? My own room, my own space, my own bed,” he cleared his throat, but continued. “When we found the bunker, it became that for me. I know it’s cold, and dark, and not exactly homey. But it became home.” He finally glanced to look at you. You stayed silent for a minute, but when he didn’t continue, you reached for his hand again.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I’ve been a jerk about the bunker. I know it’s home to you, and I’m sorry. I’m not trying to force you into something you don’t wanna do,” your gaze fell a bit.

“No, no,” he gave your hand a squeeze. “I do want to settle down. I want us to have our own place that isn’t damp and musty, and preferably doesn’t have concrete floors.” He gave you a small smile. “I just wanted to explain why it’s been hard for me to let go.”

“I get that,” you replied softly. “I support you a hundred percent. I won’t ask about it again, promise…Scout’s honor,” you held up three fingers with a smirk–the Girl Scout’s sign.

He chuckled and shook his head, but brought your hand back up to his lips. “I love you.”

“I know,” you smiled. You leaned towards him and planted a kiss against his stubble-covered cheek.

It was late afternoon by the time you were climbing the rolling hills of Missouri. Based on the time and how long you had been driving, you were officially intrigued. You turned to Dean with an inquisitive look, “The Ozarks?” You asked him.

A smile pulled at his lips but he kept his eyes on the road. “The Ozarks,” he repeated simply.

“Are we…are we staying in the Ozarks? Is this a vacation?” Hope bubbled in your chest. Dean wasn’t really the vacationing type. A vacation to Dean was going to Vegas, which you loved, but it was loud and dirty and exhausting–the complete opposite of what you’d call a relaxing getaway.

“Not exactly,” he responded simply. Huh. That didn’t give you much to go on. But you tried not to focus on your curiosity. This was important to Dean, whatever it was exactly. So instead, you tried to be calm, cool and collected.

The Impala took a few more turns before it pulled onto, what looked like, a private drive on the side of a hill. The old dirt road looked like it hadn’t been traveled in a while. Your eyes watched out the window at all of the incredibly tall trees and nature–it was so quiet and peaceful. The car slowed and you looked back out the windshield to spot a small log cabin tucked in the woods. It was absolutely beautiful and quaint. You silently prayed this wasn’t some job Dean had stumbled upon and decided to pick up, or that you weren’t visiting some long lost friend of his. The idea of spending a night in this quaint cabin with the man you loved sent the best kind of shivers up your spine (not the cold, musty bunker kind).

“Dean…” you breathed just as he slid the car into park. He was turned to you, a smile etched across his features.

“Let’s check it out,” he didn’t hesitate to open his car door, so you did the same. The air was cool up here, but it was a chill you didn’t mind. It was so fresh and almost freeing. There was a silence only interrupted by birds chirping and crickets starting to come out in the early evening hour.

Dean came to your side and extended his hand for you to take. You followed his lead as he walked towards the steps that led up to the wrap-around porch. As you reached the top, you noticed a porch swing that looked hand crafted in the most beautiful way. You ran your hand over the smooth wood and felt your heart flutter.

“Where are we?” You looked back at Dean—your heart hoped for a specific answer, but your brain reminded you to remain cautiously optimistic. Dean knew you hated surprises, and this would be a big one.

“The Ozarks,” he smiled a cheesy grin, which made you roll your eyes yet again. He chuckled as he took a seat on the swing, and you followed suit next to him. When you did, you realized this swing faced the most amazing view of the rolling hills; you had never seen anything like it. It felt like you were in a postcard.

“I’ve gathered that,” you muttered. “What is this place?”

“Well, I’ve uh, I’ve been looking,” he spoke slowly at first as you continued to admire the view. When you turned to look at him, you realized he was just watching you. “And I felt like this place checked all your boxes…”

You felt like your heart was in your throat. The familiar feeling of hopeful tears stung at your eyes, and you wanted to kick yourself for feeling emotional. “Dean, are you saying…” you couldn’t find the words and you were worried if you kept talking, your voice might crack.

“If you love it, this could be home,” he spoke softly and his eyes watched you carefully.

“Yes!” You couldn’t help the enthusiasm as you practically threw yourself at him, your arms tangled around his neck and the swing shifted with your weight on his lap. “God, yes!”

His laughter rumbled against your chest as you pressed against him. “You haven’t even seen inside yet,” he chuckled. You pulled back and pulled his face to yours for a kiss. Your thumbs smoothed against his stubble as your eyes danced between his.

“It’s perfect, Dean,” you whispered as you brought your lips to his once more. “Do you love it? I’m sorry, I got so excited and I wanna make sure you love it, I don’t want you to do this just because of me…”

“I love it,” he cut off your rambling.

“I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know you have a soft spot for the bunker and that it’s your home,” your fingers instinctively found the hair at the nape of his neck where you played and twirled with the short strands there.

“Home,” he started as he brought his hand up to tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. His gaze found your eyes again before his hand gently cupped your cheek as he continued, “is wherever you are.”

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little slice of fluff :)

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lacilou @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma

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