Love ~A Series of Short Stories~

Devolve | Dean Winchester Fanfic BWWM

"Welcome back, Ami," Dean told me as I walked into our town home. His grin stretched out from ear to ear, and I welcomed the sweet kiss he placed on my lips. My husband took my coat and bag, putting each in its proper place as I shook off my shoes. I imagined shaking away the worries of my clients and their problems during our sessions as I did so. I could smell the scent of tomato sauce and cheese rolled into one, and I hummed.

"Lasagna for dinner?" I asked. He nodded, and a warm feeling swelled in my chest.

I found it hard to understand what my mom and sister were so worried about when I just went with what felt right in my relationship with Dean. It was a little wild to think back to the fact that, just a year ago, I didn't even know my future husband existed.

It didn't take me long to change into my sweats and t-shirt, and I was at the table with Dean soon for dinner. I said a quick prayer, and opened my eyes to him smirking at me. When I asked what was funny, Dean just chuckled and asked me about work. I asked if he was able to return the sheets we'd bought that he didn't like. It was the second set we'd tried since moving into the place a few months back.

"You know I've been busy, and I had to come back to cook. I'll get it done later," Dean  said before reaching across the table to interlock his fingers with mine.

"Hey," Dean said above his phone as I barreled into the house, several grocery bags in my hands. I nodded before I scurried into the kitchen without even getting a chance to take off my shoes. He got up from his seat at the table to relieve me of some of the weight, then unloaded the groceries while I went back to take off my shoes.

I gave him a kiss on the cheek when I was back in the kitchen. Dean turned and peppered my neck and shoulders with kisses while his arms stayed on my waist. I giggled and smiled, my gaze landing on the counter and its surroundings. The stovetop was empty, and I fought the urge to ask why he wasn't able to make dinner on his turn tonight. I went to grab some pots and pans and settled on, "you must've been busy today."

He glanced at me before he turned around to put the eggs into the plastic tray I bought for the fridge.

"We closed a big account today, and the team wants to go out and celebrate. I just came back home to relax and change, but I'm leaving in twenty minutes."

I filled one of the smaller pots with water and put some of the other ones I'd grabbed away. "I see."

With Dean putting the groceries away, and the water set to boil, I went into our room to change. Before I stepped back out, I looked down at the corner of the closet and saw the brown sheets that I'd asked him to return six months ago. I asked him to put it on the bed in the guest room before he could, and he told me not to worry about it.

I wanted to go home to relax and bathe the disgusting stench of stress and disappointment off of me before I collapsed into bed, but the thought of devoting any time to myself while my husband waited for his meal with his feet up on the coffee table was nauseating. Unfortunately, I couldn't think of anywhere else to go at such short notice, and I'm already swiping your metro pass to get into the subway station. The ride home went by in a blur, and I tried to distract myself with my phone. Instagram was the first thing I thought of pulling up, and the first post was of a woman you know holding flowers, eyes filled with tears, kissing her fiance. I liked the post, quickly, then skimmed past it in hopes of seeing anything else. When I was faced with more couples' posts and suggestive selfies, I turned off my screen and turned the phone over. Tilting my head to lay it on the window beside me, I closed my eyes and shut my mind off for the remainder of the train ride.

What started as a union of passion and love quickly devolved into an awkward kind of partnership, and I wondered if that was what my mom and sister tried to warn me about. I hadn't had a conversation longer than simple "hello's" and check-ins with them, and I avoided their questions about how me and my husband were doing. To the outside world, it probably seemed like things were good, just calm. And I hoped that was how we were perceived. Otherwise, it was like they knew I had failed.