Supernatural Short Stories

Love in Autumn

Dean x Reader

Sitting in your own personal wooden rocking chair, you watched as Dean decided to do a fairly normal task. Raking the leaves away from the bunker's garage into an organized little pile. You could have offered to help, but you were too comfortable in your little slice of heaven.

Besides, you enjoyed watching that man work. It didn't really matter what type of work it was, you enjoyed it. Watching as he washed his car, cleaned his gun. Hell, you even loved to sit in the kitchen and watch as he cooked up another one of his surprisingly yummy meals.

It could have been the way his muscles tightened and moved under the flannel, stretching the material so far you wondered if it was going to burst at the seams. The way his hips always seemed to sway no matter what he was doing.

"Are you going to come help me?" He asked you, leaning against the rake, knowing he had caught you daydreaming again. The neck of his faded black t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat, the sleeves of his black and gray flannel pushed up to his elbows. It was a much warmer fall day then you had expected, and the blanket you had brought out was draped across the back of your chair.

"Not yet," you answered, knowing you had no intention of helping him out. You would rather watch the breadth of his shoulders flex and move as he manhandled the rake. "You're doing a great job. Keep up the great work!"

Rolling his eyes, Dean turned back to his job, raking the leaves into the already large pile. Hues of orange, red and yellow mixed together, creating a kaleidoscope of colors that reminded you of a bonfire.

"Dean," you called out moments later, your book open in your hand, still on the same page. "Do you ever imagine that this could be a normal life for us? Living in a suburban home, spending our weekends raking leaves and doing whatever it is normal people do?"

You loved the look that always came over Dean's face when he thought hard. His eyebrows scrunched down, making the wrinkles around his eyes even more prominent. His tongue darted out to his lips, his nose wrinkled slightly as he took your question seriously. "Sure, I think about it all the time."

"You do?"

He nodded, leaning against the rake. "Sure. I don't exactly imagine the house, or where we live. But I do imagine what a normal life with you would be like."

He left it at that, turning back to his job, humming as it went. You picked your book up once again, but your mind was on the fact that Dean imagined a normal life just as much as you did.

Feeling nostalgic, and sad that it probably never would happen, you tossed your book to the side, leaving your comfortable chair. Dean's back was to you as you came forward. Taking the rake from his hand, you tossed it to the side. "Y/N, what are you...," he started to ask as you pulled him towards the huge pile of leaves.

Suddenly you pushed him, and while his hunter reflexes normally would have stopped him from falling, he let himself relax for the moment, tipping back to land in the middle of the pile. Leaves flew up in the air, slowly coming down to settle around him. One landed on his nose, and with a giggle, you brushed it away.

"What was that for?" He asked, half of his body covered with leaves.

"Because I could," you answered. "Haven't you ever jumped in a pile of leaves before?"

He shook his head, reminding you of the childhood he had never really lived. "Well, now you have."

You turned to head back to your book, but his hand reached out, grasping you by the wrist, pulling you down beside him in the leaves. "You can't leave me down here by myself," he exclaimed his free hand in his jeans pocket while he turned to face you.

"This isn't exactly how I planned this," Dean started, confusing you. "But it seems like the perfect opportunity."

You had no idea where he was going with this, so you stayed silent, letting him continue. Your eyes widened when he pulled a small velvet box from his pocket, an orange leaf sticking to the soft material. "Dean, I...,"

"I know that we've both thought about this. Hell, we've even talked about it when we've had a couple of glasses full of whiskey. I know it's always been sort of a game for us, but I can't stop thinking about it. Thinking about you as my wife. I can think of nothing more perfect than knowing I can spend what's left of my life with you by my side. Will you marry me?"

You had never expected a proposal. A chance to become Mrs. Dean Winchester. But you knew it was what you wanted more than anything. "Yes," you exclaimed, letting him slide the classic gold ring on your finger before you threw your arms around him, sinking both of you deeper into the pile of leaves.