Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x Girlfriend!reader
Summary: A trip to the dentist, a little anesthesia, and one hopelessly in-love Dean Di Laurentis. Some of the sweetest confessions are the ones made without a filter.
Dean had been chewing on the same side of his mouth for three days.
At first, it was subtle enough that you almost missed it.
He still showed up to practice on time, still argued with Logan about absolutely nothing, still drank his coffee like it was part of his personality. But every now and then—right after eating or even just laughing—his jaw would tighten for a second too long.
You noticed the first real crack when you were sitting together in his kitchen.
He’d been halfway through a sandwich when he paused, chewing slowly, then stopped entirely.
You looked up from your phone. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said immediately.
“It’s nit only bread.” you muttered, narrowing your eyes.
Dean tried to go back to eating, but his hand hesitated before he took another bite. He chewed carefully, like the sandwich had stones inside.
“You’re chewing like you’re in pain,” you said.
“You just froze mid-bite.”
“About what?” He pointed at you with the sandwich.
“About life.” That almost worked. Almost.
Continue on eating and winced—quick, controlled, gone in half a second.
“Okay,” you said slowly, leaning forward. “Open your mouth.”
“What? No.” He said fast.
“That was not a request.”
“I don’t care whose mouth it, just fucking open.”
He sighed like you were the problem, but still opened it slightly.
You tilted his face with your fingers, scanning carefully.
“No.” Another pause. “…Okay, maybe a little.”
He hesitated, then pointed vaguely toward the back. “Here. But it’s fine. It’ll go away.”
“It’s not going away,” you said immediately, already grabbing your phone.
“You are literally typing.”
“I’m calling a dentist.” Dean straightened.
“You’re not, you just winced eating a sandwich.”
He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms.
“It’s probably nothing.” You raised an eyebrow. “It’s probably your wisdom teeth.”
He held your stare for about five seconds before breaking first.
“I’m pretty sure it’s not.”
“Yes, but I’m not the one lying about being in pain.” He huffs.
“It’s just annoying. It’s not like I’m dying.”
“You’re going to the dentist.”
“I really hate the dentist.”
“I know that too.” He groaned dramatically, dropping his head back.
Dean sighed dramatically, rubbing a hand over his face.
“I hate when you’re right.”
“You don’t have to like it.” He looked at you for a second before mumbling,
“Can you at least hold my hand if they try to kill me?”
You smiled despite yourself.
“They’re taking out a tooth, Dean.”
The appointment came much sooner than Dean would have liked.
The dentist explained the procedure while Dean nodded along, though from the look on his face, he hadn’t processed a single word.
When the assistant came to lead him into the procedure room, he looked back at you.
“I’ll be right outside.” His eyebrows pulled together.
“Because they won’t let me in.” He looked personally offended.
“I don’t want to go there alone.” He whispered. “I’m scared.”
“I know baby, but everything I’m going to be fine.” I kissed his lips. “I’ll be right here when you’re done.
“Do you promise?” He reached for your hand.
“I promise.” He gave my hand a squeeze before disappearing through the door.
About forty minutes later, the dentist came to get you.
“He did great,” she said with a smile. “He was a bit scared but as soon as the anesthesia hit him, he was a sweetheart.”
She started to explain to me what he can or can’t do, the aftercare and everything
The second Dean saw you walk into the recovery room, his entire face lit up.
“There she is.” You couldn’t help smiling.
“Hey handsome, she told me you were very brave.”
“Me?” He smiled and held both arms out toward you immediately. “Come here.”
You walked over, and before you could even say anything else, he wrapped both arms around your waist and buried his face against your stomach.
“…Dean?” He simply shook his head.
You laughed quietly, running your fingers through his hair.
“You have to let the nurse check you before we go.”
“She can check me while I’m hugging you.”
The nurse smiled knowingly.
“I’ll give you two a minute.” Dean looked up at you with sleepy eyes.
“I was gone for less than an hour.”
“See?” he whispered. “Forever.”
You laughed so hard you had to wipe a tear from your eye.
Getting him to the car was an adventure.
The entire walk, he refused to let go of your hand.
If you loosened your grip even slightly, he’d immediately intertwine your fingers again.
“I’m literally walking beside you.”
“I promise.” Only then did he seem satisfied.
Once you were both inside the car, he turned in his seat just to look at you.
“You’re really pretty.” You smiled.
“No, like…” He frowned, trying very hard to explain himself. “I don’t think I tell you enough.”
“Not enough.” He reached across the center console and gently touched your cheek.
“I really like looking at you.” Your heart melted.
“You’re very cute right now.”
“You’re also incredibly drugged.”
When you got home, he followed you everywhere.
You stopped in the kitchen.
You walked into the living room.
You turned around suddenly.
He almost bumped into you.
“Why are you following me?” He looked genuinely confused.
“…Because you’re going that way.”
“You don’t have to come with me every time.”
“Oh.” He thought about it. “…I do, though.”
“Because…” His sleepy eyes softened. “You’re my favorite person ever.”
“I feel safe when you’re close.” Your expression instantly softened.
You stepped closer and cupped his face carefully, avoiding the swollen side.
“You’re going to make me cry.” He smiled lazily.
“You’re too pretty to cry.”
“I really do.” He grinned proudly, like he’d just won something.
“You’ve been my boyfriend for over a year.”
“Really? I’m your boyfriend?” He says like that was new information.
“Yes you are.” He giggles.
You finally managed to get him settled on the couch with a blanket and an ice pack.
He immediately reached one hand toward you.
“My girlfriend.” You laughed.
“I was going to get your ice cream.”
“You can get ice cream later.”
“I need you first.” Your heart squeezed.
Without another word, you sat beside him.
He instantly scooted closer until your shoulders touched.
Then he rested his head against yours with a content little sigh.
“So much.” A comfortable silence settled between you.
A few minutes later, you glanced down. Dean was already half asleep.
Just as you thought he’d drifted off completely, he mumbled quietly against your shoulder,
“…You’re gonna marry me someday.” Your breath caught.
His eyes never even opened.
“You’re the love of my life.” The words were so simple.
Like they were the easiest truth he’d ever spoken.
Before you could answer, he was already asleep, still holding your hand tightly in his own—as if even unconscious, he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go.
Dean slept through most of the afternoon.
Every so often he’d shift a little, mumble something completely incoherent, then settle back against the couch with the ice pack slipping lower and lower until you fixed it again.
By the time the sun was beginning to set, the anesthesia had finally worn off.
His eyelashes fluttered before he blinked slowly at the ceiling.
“…Ow.” You looked up from the book you’d been reading and smiled.
“Welcome back big boy.” Dean turned his head toward you, immediately regretting it.
“I know,” you said sympathetically. “How are you feeling?”
“I feel like a chipmunk with a lot of food inside my mouth.”
“You kind look like one.”
He let out a dramatic sigh before carefully pushing himself into a sitting position. After a moment of silence, he glanced at you.
“I don’t remember anything after they took me into that room.” You smiled to yourself.
“I had a feeling.” His eyes immediately narrowed.
“Why are you smiling like that?”
“What did I do?” You tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you.
“For starters, you decided my stomach was the perfect place to live.” Dean blinked.
“When I walked into the recovery room, you hugged my waist and buried your face against me. Then you told the nurse, very seriously, ‘I live here now.’” He stared at you in horror.
“I bet it does.” Dean dropped his head back against the couch with a groan. “I’m scared.”
“You followed me around the entire house because, according to you, I was ‘going that way.” He just looked at me in horror. “You also kept making me promise I wasn’t going to leave you.”
He covered his face with both hands.
“You were both.” A muffled groan escaped from behind his hands.
“I’m never doing this again.” You laughed, reaching over to pull one of his hands away.
“There’s one thing you said that wasn’t embarrassing.” He looked at you through flushed cheeks.
“…What?” Your smile softened.
“You fell asleep with your head on my shoulder.” Your fingers slipped gently through his hair. “Right before you drifted off, you said, ‘You’re gonna marry me someday.’”
The color drained from his face for half a second before returning twice as red.
“You did. And then you told me I was the love of your life.”
He was completely speechless.
“I…” He laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was supposed to say that when I had a plan.”
Dean sighed, realizing he’d walked right into that one.
“Not yet, but I had the idea.” A soft laugh escaped you.
He reached for your hand, his expression turning sincere.
“The anesthesia just said what I’ve been feeling for a long time.” His thumb brushed gently across your knuckles.“You are indeed the live of my life”
“You are the love of my life too.” You squeezed his hand.
“I know.” He smiled, the kind that reached his eyes.
You leaned over and kissed his forehead instead of his lips, careful of his sore jaw.
“I can wait for the proper proposal.” Dean chuckled.
“Good… because I’d rather not do it while I look like a chipmunk.”
That made you laugh hard enough to bring a smile to his face too.
