a/n: this is my first time writing deanee, which is crazy because i love them so much, but /i could never quite get a handle on a plot for them. i really liked the mid-season finale of total divas, which featured their relationship in the spotlight for the first time, so i decided to roll with that as a jumping off point. this is a companion to the episode "the big day," which took place during renee and dean's trip to toronto where he met her family and rusev and lana's wedding.

~*~cause i just want the simple things~*~

pairing: dean ambrose/renee young

summary: at rusev and lana's wedding, dean realizes he wants it all with renee

rating: t

They're a tangle of arms and legs; sheets strewn haphazardly over their skin. There's a grin, slowly, creeping to his lips as the memories of the night before come back. She had been on fire last night (fuck, make up sex was the best, screw roman and his romantic notions of love making), her body responding to his every touch, her voice urging – even in a hushed whisper, as her mother was just a few doors down (that made it even hotter) – him on as he thrust into her, over and over again.

She cupped the back of his head, twisting her mouth to his as his hands slid down her sweat-ridden body and gripped her thighs as she came.

The grin grows just a little more as he remembers biting that spot on her neck as he slammed into her one last time. She giggled softly as he let her fall forward, his hand squeezing her ass before she could squrim out of reach. She wrapped the covers around both of them, giving them their own little bubble as she pushed back his hair, slick with exertion, back from his forehead and then her lips brushed against his hot skin.

He never thought he'd have this; a steady chick, someone to cling to while on this fucking crazy ride, a house, a dog. The whole shebang and all that. That always seemed like it was meant for anyone else but him. Then one day, she was there, like she'd materialized out of thin air; all golden waves (her hair was longer then) and perfect red lips and bare feet.

He was done the moment her hazel eyes met his blue.

Blonde had never looked so good.

Fuck, he curses in his head, watching as she begins to stir. Her lips are parting just so and her long lashes are fluttering, and he can't look away.

He remembers how tense things had been before she had talked with her Mom, how stressed she was about bringing him to her hometown and having him meet her family. He knew he hadn't made things easy; doing shots with her Mom, going after that fucking drunk asshole who stole her hat and trying to play human Frogger, but he wasn't exactly the 'meet the parents' type. He was the guy the girl fucked around with before she met the one.

He wasn't ever supposed to end up here; tangled up in crisp white sheets in the bedroom of a beautiful house that she had rented for her Mom's birthday weekend so he could meet her folks.

But she made him want to work so fucking hard at this.

It didn't always seem like it, and he knew that, but he was trying. Trying harder than he ever would otherwise. There had been plenty of women to come in and out of his life, but she was special. She made him want things he never thought would be possible for him. She didn't press or push or pull, she just went with the flow. She never tried to mold him into something he wasn't. She took him for who he was.

And last night, when she'd confessed how sorry she'd been for going crazy and stressing about everything, he understood where she was coming from. He couldn't blame her for acting the way she did. He was more house trained than he had let on, and he accepted her apology in the form of back scratches and German'd her for good measure, making her squeal as they fell backwards onto the fluffiness of the bedspread.

"You're staring," Her voice, hoarse from sleep, drew him out of his thoughts.

"I got the most beautiful chick in my bed," Lips curling into a smirk. "Why wouldn't I stare?"

"Weirdo," She remarks, clicking her tongue and just before she can roll over, he pulls her back, so their bodies are flush; her breasts pressed against his pecs. "You're the weirdo," He counters. "You got up in the middle of the night and put socks on."

"Don't..." She warns, eyes narrowing, knowing exactly what he's going to do. "Dean, seriously, don't..." She whines, bottom lip sticking out.

"Don't what?" His tone's too innocent and she whines again, "Please..."

There's a shriek as his foot slides along her calf and he laughs while she kicks at his legs. "You are so mean," She pouts, turning away. "And that, for your information, is why I got up to put socks on. You're feet are always cold and you always rub them on my legs to make me flail everywhere and fall out of bed so you can laugh at me."

"I can't help it," He leans over her shoulder, lips brushing over her ear. "You're cute; all tangled up in the sheets, sputtering hair everywhere, pouting and trying to glare and be all scary. I like you like that."

"And I like you when your hair's out of your eyes, we all can't have what we want." She huffs, playfully sticking her tongue out before she's facing the wall again. "Nae..." Now, he's whining and his hands drift to her sides, poised to dig into her skin and she glares over her shoulder, warning again, "Don't."

"You gonna stop me?"

"The alarm's going to go off any second. We have to get dressed and packed."

"I doubt Sasquatch and Russian Barbie will miss us..."

She's trying to hold back her laughter, but he can feel her body starting to shake and she elbows him in the ribs saying, "Stop it, that's not funny."

The alarm starts beeping and as she starts to wriggle to get out of his arms, he only tightens his grip.

"Not yet. Just a couple more minutes," His nose nuzzles her neck. "I wanna be like this; holding you for a little more. Once we go out there, I won't have you. You'll be all girly and fawning over Lana's dress and her flowers and whatever."

She twists, so they're face to face again and she shakes her head, pinching his cheek. "Silly Wabbit," She imitates Elmer Fudd, briefly before going back to her normal pitch, "You'll always have me."

Dean's sitting on the bed of their hotel room in Malibu, waiting for Renee to finish getting ready. Something's crawling at his gut, his mind whirring and racing, wondering what she's thinking about all of this; Rusev and Lana getting married. Daniel and Brie are going to be there, which means there's going to be baby talk, as well, since they're trying and stuff and he wonders what she thinks about that, too.

He was supposed to be there for the Orcas Island trip, but bailed. He knew she had felt weird being a third wheel and all, though he knew the hippies did their best to make her believe she wasn't.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably from the memory.

They're both thirty one, going on thirty two so now was the time to start thinking about that stuff – weddings, babies – wasn't it? He could feel his palms start to sweat and his heart rate pick up speed. He swallowed thickly, tugging at the front of his t-shirt, thankful this was some beach shin-dig so he didn't have to be stuck in an actual suit and could get away with a blazer with a t-shirt underneath and some slacks.

Is that what she wanted? A wedding and babies?

Just as he felt his stomach churn, the door to the bathroom opened and she stepped through. His breath caught as he took in her familiar frame. Her hair was styled in messy waves, framing the sharp angles of her pixie face perfectly. Her lips were swiped with gloss, shimmering just so and her high cheekbones were dusted lightly with blush that melded perfectly with her ivory skin. Her shoulders were bare and the cut of her long tropical print gown dipped low.

The different colors of green and yellow with an outline of black on the leaves and flowers brought out all the tones of her hazel eyes. The fabric clung to her in all the right places.

When she spun, he could see that her whole back was visible, and his mouth watered at the miles of skin on display. Heat rushed through his veins; his appreciation for her petite figure growing more and more. All there was, was ivory; no interruption of a bra strap to ruin the view.

"So..." She bit down on her lip, twisting the flesh anxiously and if she didn't stop, he'd rip the damn dress off of her.

"If everybody didn't know us, they'd wonder how a bum could show up with such a gorgeous gal on his arm." Each word was colored with honesty. There wasn't a day that went by that he didn't wonder how the fuck he managed to get her to fall for him.

"Shut up," She murmured, her natural flush coloring her cheeks as she punched him in the arm. "Here, just let me..." She pushed his hair back and flashed that bright, toothy grin and his stomach was doing flips. "There," She murmured, leaning in so her lips slid against his.

Just as he was about to deepen the kiss, she pulled away and did some appraising of her own. She licked her lips and hummed in appreciation. "It's not a Henley and jeans," She lamented, sighing heavily and he laughed under his breath. "But you do clean up mighty fine, Cowboy."

Her over the top Southern accent made him laugh more and he could feel himself relaxing as she slid her hands up his chest to drape around his neck and draw him in for a longer, steamier kiss.

A happy squeal escapes Renee's glossy lips as they arrive when she spots Brie and Daniel, making Dean shake his head. The two women meet in the middle, hugging each other tightly before pulling back to examine each other's outfits. They twirl and spin each other around, giggling and whispering while he and Daniel are off to the side, hands stuffed into their pockets, amused grins gracing their faces.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Daniel offers up, breaking the elongated silence between them.

"I've bailed too much," Dean shrugs, trying to act nonchalant. "Figured an appearance at this big blowout for Sasquatch and his Russian Barbie won't ruin my rep too much, y'know?"

"That's what you're going with?" There's something in the other man's tone that puts Dean on edge, this knowing air, and he arches a brow, lips twisted into a thin line, "You got somethin' to say, Bryan?"

"I get it, dude. You love her. There's nothing to be ashamed of. I never thought it would happen to me either. Then one day you wake up and she's there, and everything is different but it's not because she just fits, right there next to you in your bed. Then you've got bras and panties mixed with your underwear. She has her own toothbrush and cup. A hair dryer and curling iron show up. You have," A hearty bout of laughter. "No space in your closet for your three shirts and two pairs of jeans. And then you've got a house to share with someone. Maybe a dog. Next thing you know, you're at her friend's wedding. But don't worry, man, your secret's safe."

The smaller man takes his leave with a pat to Dean's back. The taller, blinks from behind his sunglasses, wondering if it's that obvious? If everyone here will be able to see just how in love with Renee he is? He swallows thickly, feeling his stomach churn and then there's the smell of expensive perfume wafting to his nose.

"How could Renee let you leave the hotel," There's Nikki's sultry tone his ear, making his lips quirk slightly. He's always appreciated their banter. "In those tragic sunglasses? I mean, you'd actually look halfway decent, Ambrose, if it wasn't for those discount, low rent not-Raybans."

"I usually go with sup when I roll up on somebody, but y'know to each their own, Tits McGee."

"Oh, fuck you, loser."

"How's the neck comin' along? You go down to the Performance Center for your check-up?" It was a swift subject change, like always happened with them; going from playful and teasing to serious, depending on their mood.

"The cat scan Dr. Urbie showed me a couple weeks ago had the bone fused, so the surgery worked and I think the eval went well down there. They'll let me know sometime soon – within the next couple days – if I'm going to be apart of The Draft. I'm," A heavy sigh as she pushes her fingers through her loose curls. "Keeping my fingers crossed and all that."

"You're made of tough stuff, Tits. Keep your head up, you'll pull through. Everybody's rootin' for ya."

"Awww, aren't you just the sweetest, Deano?"

"Hey, now," There's Renee, hip-checking Nikki after the brunette had given his ass a pinch. "That," She points to said body part, glaring playfully at her friend. "Belongs to me, Missy. Keep those hands to yourself. I don't share."

"Sooooo how did you get him to comb and gel his hair? Did you give him a bj on the drive from the hotel? A handjob? Did you break out the handcuffs..."

"Oh my God, Nicole! Shut up!" Her cheeks were bright red as she swatted at the taller brunette who was unapologetic as a shit-eating grin crossed the bow of her red lips, "What? I do stuff like that with John all the time. I mean, like, I love him; he's amazing, but before me did you see what he was wearing? I just figured, you know, you guys had the same situation going. Like, I scratch your back, you scratch mine."

"How come," Once Nikki had walked away, Dean's mouth was sliding against Renee's ear, his voice low. "I've never seen these handcuffs?"

"Because I threw them away before I came back to the house when I left the twins at the pool. They were just some stupid gag thing. They were pink and fuzzy and ridiculous. You," She twisted away from his hold, poking him in the chest. "Would have never agreed to wear them, anyway."

"What if I told you," Pulling her back to him, their bodies aligned perfectly and fuck she looks so good, peering up at him through her thick lashes, lips parted just so. "I kept the cuffs from Lockdown. What about that," He reaches and gropes, squeezing and needing her pert ass cheeks through the fabric of her dress. "You wanna cuff me, I'm game, babe."

"Dean..." Breathless and heavy and through the silk he can feel her nipples pebble to hardness making him groan, low and heady in his throat.

"We could blow this popsicle stand. Tits McGee definitely won't rat us out. Dunno about the hippies, though. They're all about this romantic shit. But, fuck, just say the word darlin' and we're gone."

"There's always tomorrow," Her hazel eyes gleaming with mischief as she rose to her tip toes, letting her lips glide along his neck, biting briefly.

"Goddamn tease," He growled through gritted teeth. "But fuck if I don't..." He sighs, taking off his sunglasses and tucking them into the front of his shirt. "Fuck if I don't love you so damn much," He finishes and there's that blinding smile, the one that's like looking into the sun and his heart skips.

"Love you too." A soft whisper as her lips seal across his and then she's lacing her fingers through his and leading him to their chairs.

Dean has no choice but to give in when Renee begs for a selfie before the ceremony stars. Those thick lashes are batting furtively, her bottom lip stuck out all the way and those hazel eyes so big, like he could ever say no. When she's looking at him like that, he wonders what else she could get him to agree to? He wonders if she's pulled this before? Ensared him in her adorable web with her pouting and eyelash batting.

He laughs under his breath as she sighs, head falling onto his shoulder. Her eyes are narrow slits as she peers up at him, glaring. "You could have taken off your sunglasses, asshole."

"I could've," He concedes. "But I look damn good in 'em, so why take 'em off?"

"I swear, it's like you're on a mission to ruin every picture that I post of us. You think it's going to stop me, but you're wrong." She pokes him in the chest. "I'm on to you."

"Guess you will have to cuff me later? Y'know to teach me a lesson for being such a bad, bad boy," He growled as he bit on her earlobe, making her shriek and flail in trying to push him away while they both laughed.

There were a few looks from the people around them, but he didn't care and he knew she didn't either. She just shook her head, laughter dissolving into soft giggles as she slid into his lap, arms draped around his neck as she stretched to bite on his earlobe. He yelped and gave her ass a smack before putting her back in her own chair.

She stuck her tongue out at him, remarking, "Payback's a bitch, Ambrose and don't you forget it."

During Lana's walk down the asile, Dean was focused on Renee, watching as her eyes took in every detail of the Russian's lace gown. There was a little gasp falling from her painted lips and then a warm smile – the one she wore whenever Dirty Dancing was on – as she watched Lana's father place her hand in Rusev's. She descretly wiped a tear from the corner of her eye while the two exchanged vows and he could've sworn she swooned as they shared their first kiss as husband and wife.

He swallowed thickly as he felt her fingers lace with his when the two made their way down the asile.

It surprised him but it was so easy, too easy to see her standing barefoot in the sand in her own dress. Flowing white silk with her shoulders bare, flowers around her head, those lips painted a soft pink and shimmering. Red on her toes because it's his favorite. She wiggles them, showing him while on her father's arm. Her tongue's sticking out as she makes a face.

It's so real, he swears it's a memory and not a fantasy.

There's no sweaty palms or whirring mind or even a churning stomach. Sunny gold – not from the setting sun – colors his vision from the thoughts. He wonders if she'd be down for getting hitched, having him slide a silver ring onto her finger, becoming Renee Ambrose?

The two words roll around his brain; Renee Ambrose... Would she even change her name? Maybe she'd hyphenate?

"Would you change your name?" Tumbles off his lips without realizing he said so out loud until he sees a perfect brow arch slowly.

"Would I change my name?" There's a little smirk accompanying her retort and he sighs, reaching out to tug on a shaggy strand. "Humor me, Babe."

"Renee Young-Ambrose has a nice little ring to it. Not that I've thought about it or anything. I mean, please, who thinks about things like that? How names will mesh? If I should hyphenate or not? Pshaw," She dismisses. "Not me... Mostly because I don't have a Traperkeeper to doodle on and stuff. If I did," She toys with the edge of his crew-neck tee. "I totally would; hearts around your name, squigglies and everything. I'd go all out for sure."

"You'd go all out, huh?" He slips into their teasing facade easily, his dimple peaking out.

"I mean I'd show you my diary, but y'know it's not for public consumption, that sucks for you, huh?"

Dean shakes his head, dropping a kiss on the crown of her head and pulling her close. "Renee Young-Ambrose sounds pretty good, darlin'. You ever think about it? Like for real? Getting hitched and all that?"

Renee stretches so their lips are inches away. Peering through her lashes, she admits, "I've thought about it. Not any time soon, I'm happy with the house and our very hairy slobbering son, but I wouldn't mind having some bling to flaunt."

"That's it? You only in this for some piece of jewelry? I knew you were too sweet, that you were just some gold diggin' pixie."

"I'm no gold digger, Sir. I buy my own diamonds and I pay my own bills." She snaps her fingers and he captures her lips in a warm, soft kiss, pulling away to say, "I never thought I'd want any of this shit y'know? But you make me want it all. To be married, maybe have some rugrats runnin' around."

"I want it all with you, Dean, and that's what matters. There's no one else I've ever wanted any of that with but you."