status ongoing
spoilers minor—really, people, keep up with the series, will you?
background the domestic!au. Jo and Dean are happily married, still (sort of) hunting, and have a boy named Matt.
notice I got the idea for this off an ask thing on tumblr. Although the chestervelle section is kind of limited out there, I still found some hella rad shit. It's a ten-day project, which means an update per day. I've been toying with it for a few weeks and now it's time it saw the light of day. Oh, and I don't really know what char siu is. I just googled Chinese food. My apologies to the Chinese who read this story—my knowledge of your exceptional cuisine is rather limited.

i. the one with the groceries

They learn a lot about each other in the first few months of their shared life. One of the most prominent things, one that Dean keeps re-learning as time passes, is that Jo absolutely sucks at anything even remotely domestic. She fails at cooking, the laundry always somehow gets messed up, and the dishes are mostly the same before and after she washes them.

He can't help but wonder exactly how she managed to survive on her own for so long before he happened to swoop into her life and save her.

However, if there is one thing that Jo completely, irrevocably sucks at, that is buying groceries. And although she can try her luck with dishes, laundry or cooking and actually manage an acceptable result, it's like she has absolutely no clue about what kinds of food there are in the world, even though she eats mostly everything.

The only thing Jo excels at when it comes to the survival of the human species is ordering Chinese food. That is, besides being able to handle both guns and knives like extensions of her arms.

She knows the menus by heart, can spell out the various sauces and duck varieties in their native tongue, and she knows better than anyone how to combine dishes to give you the ultimate gastronomical experience. But her talents in the domestic domain reach out pretty much this far.

And so Dean has taken it up to himself to do the groceries — among other things. If it was only about him and Jo, he thinks that maybe they could survive solely on Chinese food and cheeseburgers. But they also have a kid in the house, and though Matt is truly indifferent to anything other than his colorful toys, Dean's pretty sure that he would notice if his diet was reduced to freaking bamboo.

"Do I really have to be here, Dean?" Jo asks, throwing a box of rice biscuits in their cart, as they stroll down the aisles at the supermarket.

With a disgusted look in his face, Dean puts them back on the shelf. "Yes. Because it's been almost two years, and you still can't buy milk without specific instructions."

"Hey, I pushed a kid out of my vagina. What'd you do, o' mighty Dean-o?"

Dean rolls his eyes and grabs a box of Kleenex. It always comes down to this argument between them. No matter what Dean does, to hell if he saves the goddamn world and averts the freaking Apocalypse, it will still pale in comparison to giving birth. He suspects that she's kind of inflating things, but since there is no possible way he can ever have first-hand experience on the matter, he always assumes the battle lost.

"Whatever. Hey—pay attention," he chastises her when she stands drooling before the cookie aisle. "This is important. What kind of chlorine do we get? The yellow or the green one?"

"I don't know, the green one."

"Wrong. The yellow one, because it's sanitizing."

Jo snorts and grabs box of chocolate chipped cookies from the shelf. "Jesus fucking Christ, Dean. Would you like an apron and a bandana with that? Fucking housewife, I swear."

He wants to scold her for many things, swearing like a sailor being one of them. Seriously, what with Jo's potty mouth, he wouldn't be surprised if Matt's first word would be asshole or something more disturbing. It sure as hell wasn't gonna be mama or dada. But he refrains from it, postpones it for another day, and wraps one arm around Jo's shoulders, gluing her to his side.

"What am I gonna do with ya, eh?" he says, pressing a kiss against the crown of her head and she laughs. "When are you going to become a regular housewife?"

"Never," Jo scoffs, staring lovingly at Captain Crunch as they pass them buy. "I think I'm more of a MILF."

Dean pukes a little in his mouth. "Jo, I think you should stop talking right now."

"What? You can't expect me to become a soccer mom or something. I'm too cool for that. Plus, the amount of swearing I do could give Gordon Ramsay a run for his money."

He nods in agreement, unloading the cart. "That's for sure."

"Say, what's for dinner? Feeling up for some mac and cheese?" Jo asks with half a mind, her hands fishing for some cash in her jeans as the girl behind the counter scans the last of their groceries.

Dean finds himself grinning as she pays the cashier and mutters thank you with a sincere smile, before she picks up the two bags he left and jogs up to him by the exit of the store.

"Nah. I think I'm in the mood for some char siu tonight," he says and the words are barely out of his mouth before Jo is smothering him with kisses.

Because even though she might be a disaster when it comes to being a mom in the conventional sense of the word, she's a fucking firework at everything else.