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the truth | dean di laurentis

With Dean having broken your heart, you've learned to move on and live without him. He, however, has not. Will he be able to win you back, or will you leave him alone to pick up the pieces of his own heart?

the very requested part two to the lie <3

Warnings: Swearing and suggestive content. unedited- 5.3k words. fem!reader

In the time that’d passed since your relationship with Dean ended, he learned a few things.

First, getting what you think you wanted can horribly backfire on you.

Second, the best things can sometimes be what you had right in front of you.

Finally, but most important, he was a complete and total fucking idiot.

The cold, hollow ache in Dean’s chest seemed to be taking up permanent residency. It was hard to wake up every morning and not see your sleeping face beside him in bed, snuggled up to him for warmth despite his many blankets. Days felt endlessly depressing, dragging on with no purpose.

He’d gotten everything he wanted. He had his original girl back, hockey was going great, and the world was at his fingertips.

So why did he feel so empty?

You, on the other hand, had completely turned over a new leaf.

After the fated night where everything went to shit, you’d barely made it back to your dorm before collapsing on the futon in the living room in a heap of sobs. Your roommate Grace had heard the commotion, running out of her room to comfort you in the way only a best friend knew how to do.

You’d spent the following 3 days holed up in your bedroom, drowning in Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while swiping through pictures of the two of you together on your phone. You blocked Dean on social media and deleted his number from your contacts the morning after the breakup, but that didn’t deter his friends from sending various messages of apologies.

As the fourth consecutive day of your misery approached, Grace had enough. She stormed into your bedroom an hour before classes started, yanking your blanket off and turning on every light in the room.

You reached out in protest, instigating a one-sided battle of tug of war before giving up and curling back into yourself in defeat. “It’s no use, Grace. I’m a shell of who I used to be.”

“The hell you are.” She scoffed, searching through your closet before pulling out what you’d once deemed one of your best outfits. “I refuse to stand by and watch my best friend crash and burn like this.”

“Then just leave me here. I don’t want to drag you down with me.”

“Okay, respectfully, stand up. That man never wanted you; it’s time to show him you never needed him either.” Her voice softened as she laid the outfit on your bed, crouching so she was eye level with you. “You know I love you, Y/N/N. You’re my platonic soulmate. When you hurt, I hurt. I’m going to give it to you straight here- Dean Di Laurentis is the biggest, most pathetic excuse of a man. You’re too good for him.”

Your eyes began to burn, tears threatening to spill, but that was no deterrent for Grace.

“Wallowing in your bedroom only proves to him that you’re deeply affected by what happened. He isn’t worth shit and neither is Allie, so don’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he made the hottest catch on campus cry.”

She grabbed your hands, slowly pulling you out of bed. “Now, I want you to go take a shower, brush your teeth, put on some makeup if you want to, and get dressed to take on this day like the badass I know you are.”

Your heart was still broken, but as you made your way to the bathroom to prepare for the upcoming day with a deep breath and a newfound pep in your step, you felt a new sense of motivation.

Dean could have Allie. You’d find better and never settle again for anything less than you deserved.

Another day, another pounding headache and the deep regret of losing you still stuck to Dean’s heart.

He stood beside his friends in the courtyard, Allie glued to his side as usual. She’d tried a few times that morning to kiss him, which usually ended with him turning his head, so she’d catch his cheek instead or only giving a half-assed effort back.

How could he explain to her that whenever he closed his eyes, all he saw was you?

The muffled conversation around him suddenly sharpened back into focus when Garrett whispered out, “It’s her.”

Dean’s head whipped around, eager for even the slightest glimpse of you. When he eventually spotted you, his breath caught in his throat as he dropped Allie’s hand. You looked good.

No, scratch that. You looked better than good.

You looked incredible.

You had a subtle glow going on that radiated beauty, smile on your face as you chatted animatedly with Grace beside you. Dean was the opposite, with unkempt hair and dark circles under his eyes proving that the breakup had done quite the number on him.

“Say something, man.” Tucker urged, slapping him in the ribs to get his attention.

Before he could respond, Logan beat him to it, calling out a simple “Hey, Y/N!”

Dean expected you to give some sort of acknowledgement, whether that be a hello back or a simple wave. Instead, his heart only cracked further as you sent them back a cool, unimpressed glare before turning back to your conversation and walking away.

Fuck, this was going to be brutal.

A sharp knock sounded from the front door, interrupting Dean and Tucker’s heated video game hockey match. He hopped out, shouting a quick, “I got it!” before sprinting to the door, hoping it was you.

It was indeed you, standing in front of him holding a large box. His smile dropped as he noticed the contents inside, box being shoved into his hands before you turned and began to speedwalk right back down the stairs.

“Wait! Hey, let’s talk about what happened! Please.”

Your hand reached for your car door handle before you stopped, turning to face him head on.

“Mm, no.”

“Please baby, I’m trying really hard here. Do I need to beg to prove that I’m serious?”

You paused, contemplating the idea. “Okay, fine, get on your knees.”

Uncaring of the boys behind him who’d crept out of the house to view the spectacle, Dean dropped on both knees in the dirt, hands clasping together as he looked up at you with pleading eyes.

“Come inside and talk to me. I miss you so, so much.”

You pretended to contemplate for a moment, noticing the guys snickering behind you. A smug sense of satisfaction came through you at his humiliation. “Yeah, still no.”

You got into your car, pausing only to start the engine before backing out and driving away without so much as a single glance in his direction. As the boys broke out into full laughter behind him, Dean rose up quickly from his knees, turning and shoving his way back into the house.

The bouquet of roses Dean clutched in his hand were wilting slightly from the intense grip he held on to them.

He knocked three times, heart hammering wildly in his chest as commotion sounded from the other side of the door. The knob twisted and he took a deep breath; smile plastered on his face as he prepared to greet you.

Except the face staring back at him certainly wasn’t yours. The hard, defined muscles on the smooth chest of the man in front of him alone proved so. Dean’s brain took a moment to process the man across from him, a chill running down his spine at the realization that this was no ordinary guy.

This was Hunter. Fucking. Davenport.

Hunter’s face went rigid, staring at Dean with the type of unimpressed glare that managed to get under his skin every single time.

“Did you get lost up here, pretty boy? Find another puck bunny to woo your way into bed with through those cheap roses?”

“I-I’m looking for Y/N.” Dean stuttered, at a loss for words for once in his life. Out of everyone you could’ve hooked up with, any lucky bastard on campus to be able to date you, you picked his archrival?

As if his words summoned your presence, you peeked around the corner that led to your bedroom. “Babe, what’s the holdup? Is it those sorority sisters again?”

You strolled forward toward the door, sunlight from the window behind you making you look even more otherworldly. What was worst for Dean, though, was that you looked truly happy. Like you’d finally made your peace with the breakup and moved on, unlike him.

“I swear, they won’t leave me alone about rushing- oh. Dean.”

The soft smile and lightness to your tone vanished upon seeing him, which only further proved to Dean that he’d well and truly fucked up. You were wearing a shirt that undoubtedly belonged to Hunter, only making him feel worse.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, these are for you.” He thrust the bouquet of now sad-looking flowers into your hand. “Just wanted you to know that I’ve been thinking of you every day.”

“Yeah, and apparently thinking about Allie, too.” Hunter’s not-so-quiet mumble went straight through Dean’s ego.

“The fuck did you just say, Davenport?”

Noticing the growing tension, you stepped between the two, acting as a barrier of sorts before any physical contact started. “Alright, boys, that’s enough.” You turned, attention fixing solely at Dean. “I think you should leave.”

“Well, I’d like to stay. I just think we have more to talk about.”

“There is nothing left to talk about.” You hissed.

Hunter’s hand traveled down your arm, grabbing your hand as he tugged you lightly toward him. “C’mon, baby, breakfast is getting cold.”

Without another word, you turned, walking back into your dorm room. As the door slammed in his face, Dean swore he saw you toss the roses into the garbage bin. His heart only broke further, desperate to get back into your good graces in any way shape or form.

You wanted to play a game, Y/N Y/L/N? Game on.

For the next month, all his attempts to win you back failed miserably. You wouldn’t talk to him or his friends, phone calls, letters, and mail remained unanswered, and every expensive gift he attempted to send would end up right back on his doorstep, unopened.

Allie sat beside him on the couch, desperately trying to grab his attention as Dean scrolled through Tiffany & Co’s website. She had no idea, but all of the nice gifts he’d been giving her lately were intended for you first before you sent them back.

“Dean, baby,” Allie crooned, coming closer to him on the couch. “You’ve been so stressed lately. What’s wrong?” The hand that had been innocently playing with the back of his neck trailed down his arm, nails raking down his chest before ultimately stopping right at the waistband of his pants.

“Oh, nothing. Just hockey shit, you know how it is.” He mumbled distractedly, scrolling through the most expensive pairs of earrings. Did you like silver or gold better?”

“Y’know,” she started, swinging a leg across his lap so she was straddling him. “I can help with that.”

She grabbed his phone, chucking it across the cushions; before he could protest, she surged forward, connecting their lips in a hot, deep kiss.

As Dean’s eyes fluttered shut, he couldn’t help his mind from swirling wildly with thoughts of you. Your sweet smile, your effortless appeal, the way you turned every head in the rooms you entered without even trying.

Your soft lips, the way your body felt melded against his own…

His eyes flew open, realizing that instead of being in the moment, he was imagining that Allie was you instead. Allie, sensing the tension by the way his body went rigid under hers, opened her eyes to find him already staring back at her.

“You’re thinking about her again, aren’t you?” She sighed, sliding off his lap and onto the cushion beside him.

“What? Babe, no, absolutely not. You’re the only girl I see.” He grabbed her waist, pulling her closer. “C’mere, I wasn’t done kissing you.”

As the night grew more passionate, Dean’s brain wouldn’t shut off regardless of how hard he tried. You plagued his every waking moment, only further reminding him of what he’d lost. As he willed all remaining thoughts of you away, he could only hope the sweet relief of forgetting about you would come to him soon.

Another week, another Briar hockey victory.

The guys had all around been on fire, completing a successful shutout and ultimately beating their rival team 4-0.

The crowd was alit with excitement, fans cheering and yelling their support from all around the rink. As Dean’s eyes wandered, he searched for you, finding himself truly disappointed when he realized you hadn’t shown up at all. Not even Allie wearing his jersey in the stands could console his aching heart.

The team’s energy was at an all-time high as they entered the locker room, sharing high fives and the joy of yet another flawless victory. Even Dean was grateful for the small distraction, joining in on his teammates’ cheers.

“You were fucking awesome out there tonight, dude.” Logan praised him from his spot next to him.

“It’s not easy being this perfect, but I try to stay humble.” Dean responded, smirking. He went to place his helmet on the top shelf, stopping in his tracks when a photo strip he’d forgotten he put there came fluttering down to the floor.

It was the photo strip from your first date. You were at Malone’s, insisting on going into the photo booth to commemorate the occasion. Dean trailed behind you reluctantly, eyes scanning the room for any potential sighting of Allie.

Inside the booth, a set of four photos followed. In the first picture, the two of you threw up matching peace signs at the lens. In the second, you gave the camera a huge, lovesick grin as Dean smiled at you. The third managed to catch your first kiss. He’d put his hand on your chin in between shots, turning your face towards him and slotting your lips together as the camera flashed. The fourth that followed was the two of you, forehead to forehead, sharing secret, shy smiles, completely ignoring the lens altogether.

His breath caught in his throat at the memory, with tears embarrassingly welling in his eyes and threatening to spill at any given moment. He grabbed the strip, folding it and shoving it in his back pocket for safekeeping before Garrett’s voice rang out.

“Party at our place tonight!”

“Hey, man, you alright?” Tucker questioned Dean as he rose from his crouched position, clapping his friend on the back. “You seemed kinda out of it there.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m totally fine. Just kind of tired.” His finger skimmed the top of the photos absentmindedly, mind once again wandering at the thought of you. “Let’s go get fucked up!”

Booze was flowing in every possible direction, its smell potent. The bass coming from the speakers shook Dean to his core, only adding to his sudden nauseousness. Allie clinging to his side didn’t help, either, making him feel claustrophobic.

“Bro,” Garrett started, moving closer in his direction. “The hell’s going on with you tonight? Besides the shots we took, you’ve been taking micro sips of that beer you’re holding for the last hour. You’re normally the first one to be drunk by now.”

“Just not feeling it, I guess.” Dean responded halfheartedly, taking his now lukewarm beer and placing it on the counter.

“Well, lighten up, then! We just won one of our biggest games of the season. Now is the best time to celebrate instead of moping around.”

“Oh, leave him be, Garrett.” Tucker chimed in, placing a series of appetizers on the kitchen island. “He’s just a little heartbroken right now.”

“And why would he be heartbroken?” Allie questioned, eyes narrowing at the guys.

“Oh, um, I think I hear someone calling our names from the other room, Tuck.” Garrett turned on his heel, moving toward the doorway.

“What? Dude, I don’t hear anything-“Tucker’s response was interrupted by Garrett shoving him forward by his back. “Ouch! Hey, don’t touch the appetizers yet! There’s some still in the oven!”

Allie turned, facing Dean completely and placing a hand on his chest. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been acting so weird. You haven’t even looked my way once tonight.”

“Sorry, baby, guess I was just distracted by something.” Dean’s excuse was met with skepticism by the brunette in front of him.

“Something? Or someone?”

That comment cut deep. Dean sighed, about to apologize once more, knowing deep down that she was right. He was still searching for you an hour into the party, having given up hope that you’d show up at all. His attempt was stopped by Allie’s sudden squeal.

“Babe, I love this song! Let’s dance!”

His reluctance was met by Allie tugging sharply on his hand, leading him to the makeshift dance space the guys had created earlier. She turned around so her back was to his front, placing his hands on her hips before grinding on him and swaying her hips to the beat of the music.

As his eyes scanned the room for the hundredth time that night, Dean found his hopes vanquishing and his heart sinking into his stomach. He missed you so badly it physically hurt him, chest constantly aching and yearning to be by your side. You were in his every waking thought, on his mind 24/7.

He caught a familiar head of hair on the opposite end of the floor, realizing instantly that it was you. You were on the edge of the dance floor with Hunter, swaying to the music as you stared into each other’s eyes. Dean’s stomach churned with jealousy, unsure of whether he was about to throw up or kick Hunter’s nuts in.

He whispered a joke in your ear, which resulted in you throwing your head back in laughter. Hunter took the moment of opportunity to trail kisses down your exposed neck, Dean’s fists balling at his sides at the sight. Before he could think twice, he was pushing away from Allie, heading your way in a storm of fury as he only saw red.

How dare you hook up with his arch nemesis like that right in front of him? How dare Hunter flaunt you around like a prize to be won? How dare he himself be so stupid to let you go?

“What the hell are you doing here, Davenport?” Dean asked angrily, subtly nudging you away by the hip.

“What does it look like I’m doing, Di Laurentis? I’m celebrating the team’s win with my girlfriend.” Hunter smirked, gesturing in your direction. Dean wanted to break every single finger on that outstretched hand.

“Stay the fuck away from my girl.” His finger jabbed right into the center of Hunter’s chest, pushing in slightly.

“Oh, ‘your girl’, huh? Was she your girl when you broke her heart and shattered it right in front of her? Or when you used her just to make your slutty ex jealous? I should thank you for being such a dumbass with no backbone. You fumbled the greatest woman in your life just like you fumble with the puck on the ice. Don’t worry though, I made sure the sounds of her crying your name turned into screaming mine-“

Any remaining retorts Hunter had were ceased by Dean’s fist colliding hard with the side of his jaw. He reeled back, spitting blood on the floor before getting right back up in Dean’s face. “That all you got, big boy?”

Dean couldn’t remember much of what happened after that. He knew he tackled Hunter to the ground, fists flying on both sides. He felt the stinging blows to his face as his own knuckles cracked and bruised with force, being pulled apart by his teammates shortly after. He doesn’t know how he got home after, but one image would be engrained into his mind forever.

It wasn’t Hunter’s bloody, bashed up face on the floor beneath him. Nor was it Allie’s screams and cries of his name, begging him to stop. It wasn’t even the flashes of the surrounding cameras capturing one of the worst moments of his life.

It was you. The way you watched the scene unfold in silent terror, eyes wide with fear. You looked at Dean as if you hated him. Like he scared you.

Like he was a monster.

The week that followed the incident remained generally quiet for once. Dean hadn’t contacted you since the incident, choosing to hide in his shared house when he wasn’t at practice or classes.

You’d taken most of the week for yourself to figure things out on your own. As it turns out, having two big, hunky hockey players fighting for your attention wasn’t all it was cut out to be.

Both Hannah and Grace had reached out plenty of times, expressing their support for you and saying they’d be there if you needed anything at all. Other members of the Briar U student body had reached out as well both virtually and face to face, asking how you were holding up. A video of the fight had gone viral, which meant there was extra attention on you as of late.

Through it all, one thing remained clear to you. Regardless of who came in and out of your life, who you dated, or who stuck with you through it all, you’d always have yourself. You’d picked up the pieces of your broken heart like a badass, refusing to let Dean, or any man for that matter, dictate you as a person.

You grabbed your usual drink order and a croissant off the counter at the café, choosing to treat yourself before your first class of the day. As you exited, you heard your name being called faintly. Bracing yourself, you turned to greet the person, only to be shocked at who you saw before you.

It was Allie.

She looked like total shit; dark circles under her eyes, messy hair, sweatpants and hoodie hanging loosely off her form. This was so unlike the usual Allie you knew and used to love, the one who put the utmost care into her appearance every day. Not for the opinions of others, but for herself.

“Can I help you?” You asked, face guarded.

“Oh, uh, I wasn’t actually expecting you to hear me out.” Allie stuttered, playing with her fingers nervously. “I was totally expecting you to hate me. Which, if you do, I don’t blame you in the slightest for.”

Did you hate Allie? You’d been so convinced the whole time that she was a version of the devil himself with the way she stole your man. Now, looking at how she let a guy destroy her like this, you mainly pitied her.

“You turned my relationship into a game, Allie. I thought we were friends when you just wanted my boyfriend for yourself the whole time. Do you know how fucking embarrassing that is? Wait, no, you really don’t, because you got what you wanted without ever thinking twice about me. That’s not personal achievement, that’s being a fucking selfish bitch.”

Allie winced, embarrassed tears making streaks down her face. “It wasn’t like that, I swear! We really were friends. I don’t know what came over me seeing the two of you together. I saw how happy you were, and I guess it just made me wish to have the same thing in any way I could get it.”

You scoffed, “Yeah, well, you got it, alright.” Turning to walk off, she stopped you once more by yet another quiet plea of your name.

“Dean and I broke up after the party. Watching him fight over you like that, I knew that I was no longer part of the equation with him. It was only you- it’s always only been you, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for hurting you in the way that I did. I was a raging bitch who burned everything in her path, you especially. Dean and I both regret everything that happened.”

“As you should.”

Allie blinked rapidly, stunned at your blunt response, before laughing lightly. “Yeah, I guess we both deserve that.” She stepped closer, holding both arms up in surrender. “I don’t expect you to forgive me anytime soon, Hell, I’d be pissed at you if you did. But I want you to be happy, Y/N/N. In any way, shape, or form. In the future, if you want to reconnect, have a girls night, or just need a shoulder to cry on, you call me, okay? I’ve truly missed you so much.”

You hesitated, giving her a small smile. “Sure, I’ll think about it. I’ve gotta run, but you take care of yourself, okay?”

She gave you a small, watery smile of her own in return. “You, too.”

As you walked to class, you felt a new sense of inner peace and motivation. You didn’t need Dean to be happy, Dean needed you. You were achieving your goals, reaching for the life you dreamed of, and nothing would stop you again.

ENDING #1- SHE CHOOSES HERSELF

“Thanks for meeting me here.” You smiled, sliding into the bench across from Dean at a booth in Malone’s.

“Yeah, of course. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” Dean’s voice shook as he responded.

“Listen, before you say anything, I think I should start.” You clasped your hands in front of you on the table, staring at him intently. “I love you, Dean. I think a small part of me will always love you.”

His eyes shone with hope at your beginning statement, thinking this would finally be the moment of forgiveness.

“But whatever we had, whatever you were leading me on with, is finished. It’s over. I’ve grown, I’ve changed, and I’m really starting to like who I am as a person. On my own.”

“This is about Hunter, isn’t it?” He asked, hurt etched clearly on his face.

“What? No, absolutely not. Hunter was a good time, not a long time. Not that that’s any of your business, however.”

“Then what is it, baby? What do I need to do to win you back?”

“I’m not a prize to be won, Dean. And I’m not your baby anymore, either.” You reminded him gently. “I’m my own person. I’m Y/N Y/L/N, not Dean Di Laurentis or Hunter Davenport’s girlfriend. I deserve to be respected for who I am, not my status socially through relationships.”

“So, this is it, then?” He whispered, downcast eyes filling unexpectedly with tears that he tried desperately to blink back. “We’re over, just like that?”

“Yeah, Dean. We’re done.”

Dean fumbled around with his pant pocket momentarily, grabbing the photo strip buried inside and laying it flat on the table in front of you. Looking down on it in shared melancholy, the two of you smiled at the bittersweet memories.

“We were really something, weren’t we?” Dean whispered.

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I guess we were.”

A young couple stumbled out of the photo booth, laughing loudly, breaking the bubble the two of you shared in your booth. Looking at them as they waited for their own photo strip, you could’ve almost laughed at the fact that one relationship was ending for good as another one was just beginning.

You stepped out of Malone’s with a feeling of hope in your heart. Your future was bright, with endless opportunities in front of you. None of them included Dean, a thought that would’ve sent you 6 months ago into a coma but only gave you peace now.

Dean sent you one last small wave through the window, one that you returned before turning and walking back down the street. Your head was held high, knowing you’d be more than alright in the end on your own. Cheating hockey players be damned; you had yourself to rely on. That was more than enough for you.

ENDING #2: SHE TAKES HIM BACK (KIND OF)

You found yourself standing in front of Dean’s house once more, hands shaking nervously at your sides. Raising one hand before you could stop yourself, you knocked curtly on the front door.

Instead of being met with Dean’s face like expected, you were met with Beau’s instead.

“Oh, hey, Y/N.” He greeted, clearly surprised at seeing you. “Didn’t expect for you to be here.”

“Yeah, me neither.” You smiled. “Is Dean home, by any chance?”

“Yeah, he is, but I actually wanted to talk to you for a second.” He pulled the door shut behind him. “I wanted to personally apologize for how shitty I was toward you without even realizing it. Dean’s my best friend, but I care about you too. Keeping secrets from you was one of the biggest mistakes I could’ve made, and I’m really sorry.”

“Thanks for the apology, Beau.” You responded, glancing at the front door. “Just, please, whatever you do, don’t lie to me like that again. It really messed with me more than you could imagine.”

Before Beau could respond, the front door creaked back open, and a familiar head of blond hair popped out. Freezing in his tracks at the sight of you, Dean’s mouth went slightly agape.

“Well,” Beau smirked, inching back inside. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Y/N.” He gasped, moving slightly closer. “What…what are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.”

“Baby, I’m so sorry. I’m the biggest dick on campus.” He groaned, rushing toward you with arms open wide. His attempt was denied by your hand flat against his chest, pushing him away.

“Not so fast.” Your arms crossed over your chest. “I’m not quite ready to fully forgive you just yet.”

“What is it?”

“You hurt me far beyond what I’m able to describe. If you think there’s any chance I’m just going to waltz right back into your arms without so much as a conversation, you’re dead wrong. The ball’s in my court, not yours.”

“I want you to know that these past months have been hell for me, sweetheart. I’ve been absolutely miserable without you. Time drags on when you’re not around and nothing seems to make sense. I was so busy focusing on Allie that I hadn’t realized I was falling for you the whole time. You’re the center of my universe and always will be, even if you don’t take me back.”

Your silence only made Dean more nervous, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of an emotion.

“Well, that’s a start.” You finally responded. “I’m glad you were miserable, Dean. You deserved to be. I want you to always remember this moment every time you fuck up again, because the next time anything even close to this happens, I’m gone for good.”

He gulped, eyes wide with a mixture of awe and understanding with a hint of fear. “I hear you loud and clear, baby. Do you want to come inside and talk more? Tucker’s got dinner in the oven and I think we have more to discuss.”

You were still undoubtedly hurt, with more groveling and forgiveness to come down the line. Looking at Dean’s hopeful face, though, you started to believe that a future where the two of you could be together was becoming more possible by the minute.

“Yeah,” you said as he grabbed your hand, stroking it lightly with his thumb while he led you inside. “I’d like that.”

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