notes: reader has endometriosis, i am not a medical professional nor do i have endo myself! i researched to the best of my ability, hurt/comfort, fluff, no use of y/n
There were dozens of reasons you were grateful to be with Dean. He was funny, sweet, sexy, you really could go on for hours. But the reason that made you fall even deeper in love with him was how attentive and patient he was with you, specifically when you were at your worst during an endometriosis flare up.
You had been up front about your chronic condition when things started to get serious, explaining that you likely couldn’t have children and your pain often limited your sex life. Dean had gone home after your date that evening and stayed up all night researching. He shared a google document with you the next morning where he’d compiled all of his research on pain management, symptoms, home remedies, treatments, all of it. That was when you first knew that you loved him.
You’d had three major flare-ups since you got together and every time, you were sure it would be enough to drive Dean away. They lasted weeks where you could hardly leave your bed and sex was completely off the table, but he didn’t bat an eye. He took care of you like it was second nature and you found yourself unsure of what you did in a past life to deserve someone so incredible.
It was on your anniversary when you felt the weight of all of it hit you. Dean made reservations at a romantic little restaurant and you’d bought yourself a new dress just for the occasion. He even bribed all the guys to stay out of the house for the night, giving you the house to yourselves for the night. With the stress of finals coming up, you were desperately looking forward to having a whole day for just you two. And of course, your body decided that morning was the perfect moment to sabotage you. The stress had finally taken its toll on your hormones and you woke up that morning with a pain in your lower back that kept you glued to Dean’s mattress.
When he came back upstairs with breakfast in his hands to surprise you with, his smile dropped at the sight of you curled up with tears welling in your eyes. “Baby, hey,” he set the food on his nightstand and climbed back into bed with you. “What’s wrong? I made Tuck cook, don’t worry, I’m not trying to poison you,” he tried to make you laugh as he slid his arms around you and pulled you into his chest.
A sob wracked your body and you pressed your face into his neck, not having the words to explain the pain shooting down your spine and landing heavy over your lower abdomen. “I just wanted today to be perfect,” you cried into his neck, “and my body hates me and had to ruin it for us. I’m so tired of this, Dean, I can’t.” You hiccuped and pulled back just enough to look up at him with a miserable look.
Understanding dawned on him and his eyes softened as he took in your blotchy cheeks and pouted lips. “Oh, sweetheart,” he frowned and rubbed a firm hand up and down your back rhythmically, “it’s okay. We’ll reschedule the dinner, yeah? We still have all day together, that’s what matters.”
You knew he was right, but you saw his suit hanging on his closet door and felt guilt eat away at you. “But you worked so hard to get these reservations and you were so excited about trying their tiramisu,” you whined, your face scrunching up in pain as you spoke.
“Do you honestly think I give a shit about tiramisu right now?” He furrowed his eyebrows and replaced his chest with a pillow under your head, “the tiramisu will still be there another day and I have no moral qualms about bribing the hostess for another reservation.” You let out a weak laugh and missed his arms around you as he moved around the room.
He collected your water bottle from his desk and opened the bottom drawer to pull out a bottle of painkillers and a heating pad. You were silent as he gathered everything and brought it back to bed. You felt like a child when he dropped two pills into your mouth and tilted your water bottle up for you to get a drink, but the feeling of being cared for settled warm in your chest. “You want it on the front or back?” He asked, plugging the heating pad in next to the bed.
“Front,” you mumbled and rolled onto your back. He lifted your shirt slightly and laid the heating pad over your lower abdomen, tucking it just under the hem of your sleep shorts. The warmth spread through you immediately and you let out a small sigh of relief. “Thank you,” you wiped at your eyes and reached for him to pull him into a kiss.
He kissed you back sweetly and brushed your sleep-tangled hair back from your face. “I’ve got you, baby,” he said softly and leaned you forward enough that he could sit behind you with his legs on either side of yours and his arms wrapped securely around you. You leaned back into his chest and turned your head so your ear could rest right over his heartbeat. This was another one of those moments where you loved him so much you didn’t know what to do with it.
He grabbed the plate of breakfast from his nightstand and took turns taking bites of his own and feeding some to you. “Okay, so are we watching Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle first?” He asked around a bite of eggs and held a bite out for you.
You smiled fondly up at him and pulled his free arm tighter around your waist. “I love you,” you reminded him quietly and blushed when his lips pressed firmly to your forehead.
“I love you, too,” he mumbled against your skin before tilting your head up for a real kiss that you met happily.
You stayed like that most of the day, with Dean adjusting your heating pad as needed and getting you more painkillers every four hours on the dot. Tucker delivered homemade tiramisu up to you two and you felt emotion swell in your chest at how you felt so completely at home. Dean never left your side for long and you couldn’t have really asked for a better anniversary than being wrapped up in his arms all day.
notes: part one, angst, exes, no use of y/n, i know i promised a happy ending but part two is coming i swear 🫣
Growing up, you didn't believe in fairytales and soulmates and you certainly weren’t naive enough to think that high school relationships lasted forever. Until you met Dean. You fell hard and fast and he dove head first in with you. You were just kids when you met, barely 16, but you knew enough to know that the love you had for him was real and all-consuming. You’d gotten so used to having him as a fixture in your life that as graduation loomed closer, you thought you could ignore the pit in your stomach telling you it was the end.
You desperately tried to reason with Dean that you'd be perfectly happy at Briar, with him. But he found the scholarship letter from your dream university across the country and wouldn't have it. You both sat in his car, red-eyed and quiet, when it happened. “We could do long distance,” you tried, for maybe the dozenth time that night.
“We’d resent each other eventually. Every missed call and missed flight, it would build up,” his voice was hollow with his dozenth excuse of the night. You wanted to argue and tell him he was wrong, but you couldn't. That was the heartbreaking part, you knew he was right.
You agreed to keep in touch and maybe reconnect after you both finished your first year of college, but truthfully, the texts had stopped after the second week apart. You knew it wasn't because you had stopped loving each other, but because it hurt too much to dangle what you wanted in front of your face when you couldn't have it. Sometimes, you wished you had ended on bad terms. You wished you had a reason to hate him, to stop loving him.
That was three years ago. And you believed in the saying that time heals all wounds, but you also knew that first loves did cut the deepest. Dean was like a little scar on the back of your knee that you didn't always think about, but when you hit a certain spot or smelled a certain smell, it all hit you at once. You had dated since then, even had successful flings once or twice, but nothing ever got very far. You usually made it to the six month mark when the guy you were seeing wanted to take the next step and you tried to picture a future with him, but were caught up on blond hair and green eyes every time.
Dean had done the exact opposite of trying to date. He kept every hookup casual and locked all of his feelings for you up in a steel box deep in the back of his chest. It worked, for the most part. He avoided girls that reminded him of you and pretended not to stalk your Instagram, looking for signs that you had moved on. Then he met Allie, who had a sense of humor close enough to yours to make his head spin when she was around. In terms of looks, you were complete opposites, but Dean found that his feelings for Allie were the closest thing he’d felt to anything real since you.
And things had almost gotten far enough for him to picture it - a relationship with someone else. He could picture himself falling for Allie and having something real with her. So when it all came crashing down around him at Malone’s, he felt like he was hitting rock bottom all over again. And it wasn't even really Allie’s fault, it’s not like he ever opened up to her about you. It's not like she knew that she had the power to break his heart just by doing exactly what she said she would and sleeping with someone else. Not just someone else. Hunter Davenport. An extra twist of the knife in his gut.
You had pictured a million ways that you would run into Dean Di Laurentis again. You pictured bumping into him in a grocery store, finding yourselves back in your hometown during the holidays, every cheesy scenario you'd seen in a rom com, you pictured it. But you absolutely didn't picture finding him again sitting on the curb outside of a bar in handcuffs with a busted lip. Yet, there you were.
You noticed him before he noticed you. He was too distracted yelling across the sidewalk at another guy who was giving his statement to a police officer. There was an officer in front of him, trying to get him to calm down, but you knew Dean was nowhere near calm. You could see it in the red flush rising up his neck and the clench of his jaw. Before you could stop yourself or force yourself to think your actions through, you were leaving your group of friends and crossing the street to him.
“Dean?” You asked, shock clear in your voice like you weren't actually sure if it was him. He lifted his head towards you with his brows furrowed in confusion, but froze when he saw your face. He looked like shit, his lip was busted, his hair was a mess, and he was literally handcuffed on a curb. But when your eyes met, you didn't notice any of it, or maybe just didn't care. “Is everything okay? I can't say I expected to run into you like this,” you chuckled awkwardly and ran a hand through your hair, suddenly forgetting how to have a normal conversation with him.
“Uh,” he cleared his throat and looked around, maybe for someone else to witness that you were really here, talking to him, “shit, yeah, no. I mean, I'm fine, it's kind of a long fucking story, but… wow. I can't believe you're here, tonight of all nights,” he let out a breathless laugh and suddenly he didn't really care about kicking Hunter’s ass.
“Fuck, I'd really love to catch up, but I've obviously got my hands full at the moment,” he raised his arms slightly behind his back where they were cuffed and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. Only Dean could make light of a situation like this, you thought. “But, how long are you in town? Can I call you? We could grab coffee or-” He cut himself off when a girl ran over to them, someone he clearly knew.
She looked like she'd been crying all night and she reached for Dean with a familiarity that left a sour taste in your mouth. She was pretty even with tear-stained cheeks and you found yourself hating the jealousy that ran through you. You lost the right to jealousy years ago, who were you to show up years later and judge a girl that you didn't even know?
“Dean, I'm so sorry. I swear, I had no idea who he was and- and we agreed! I was just keeping my end of the deal,” she talked a million miles a minute, not even realizing you were there until Dean’s eyes flicked back towards you. She looked between the two of you with a questioning gaze, but before she could ask any questions you were stepping back from them.
“I’m so sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt,” you rushed out, refusing to meet his eyes as you mumbled out another apology. “Uh, you guys are clearly in the middle of something so I'm just gonna, yeah,” you jerked your thumb behind you somewhere before spinning on your heel and speed walking back to your group of friends. You thought you heard Dean calling your name after you, but you didn't dare turn around to find out.
notes: pure fluff, no use of y/n, birthday boy garrett graham is a sap
For as long as you could remember, you had a personal cheerleader in the form of Garrett Graham by your side. He taught you how to ride a bike and ice skate and by the time the two of you reached high school, you were practically fearless. Not because the world didn't scare you, but because you knew whatever happened, Garrett would be there to catch you. He was there when your first boyfriend dumped you (he was also at said ex boyfriend’s house giving him a black eye a week later) and he was there teaching you to drive stick when you got your drivers license.
This continued into college, where the two of you were stuck to each other like glue. You were at every hockey game with his name on your back and you took celebratory shots with him at every party. Until, for the first time in your life, you went somewhere without him. You'd gotten a once in a lifetime scholarship to study abroad and despite all of the excuses you came up with, Garrett refused to let you miss out on spending a year in Italy. And you loved him for it, really, but you missed him just as much.
It was terrifying at first, being on your own and having to watch your own drink out at bars instead of having a built-in bodyguard to do it for you. But you were determined to make the best of it and you did. Not only did you ace every single one of your classes, you walked miles and miles everyday making sure you didn't miss a single sight or miss the hole-in-the-wall cafe that delivered the best cappuccino you'd ever had.
It was a dream, truly. But once the holidays started approaching, the homesickness hit hard. You were used to being away from your family for long periods of time and even your friends, but you couldn't stand the thought of missing Christmas with Garrett or worse, his birthday. He'd tried to buy you a plane ticket home for the holidays but you refused to accept it. He would never expect you to pay it back, but the guilt would eat at you until you did anyway.
It was on your weekly facetime before Christmas that you broke the news to him. “I'm sorry, Gare,” you sighed and picked at a loose thread on your Briar hoodie, “I'm just not gonna be able to swing it this year. But I'll mail your gift, okay? I expect a call when you get it.”
“I don’t care about a gift,” was his predictable response before he gave an understanding smile to the camera. You could see the disappointment in his eyes but he kept his voice light and shook his head, “it’s okay. It’s just one year, right? You deserve to enjoy every second of Venice.”
He was so understanding and supportive it made your heart ache. And rationally, you knew he was right; one year apart wouldn’t kill you. But it continued to eat at you until you decided it simply wouldn’t do. You had picked up a part time job at the local bar halfway through the semester and once classes ended for the semester, you worked every day and saved every penny. You worked a 12 hour shift Christmas Day just to afford the cheapest flight available on December 30th. It was a red eye with a horrific layover and wouldn’t get you to Briar until after 10 PM on the 31st, but you were determined to make it work. And more than that, you were determined to keep it a surprise.
Keeping a secret from Garrett was normally a monumental task, but truthfully, he’d been too distracted to notice when you stopped sharing your location. He insisted he was fine when Dean asked what drinks he wanted for his New Years/Birthday party and again when Tucker asked him what kind of cake he wanted, but all the guys could see through it. He wasn’t himself and wasn’t nearly excited enough about a party just for him full of hot girls and beer.
By the time the party came around, he wasn’t anymore chipper than he had been when you weren’t home for Christmas. He plastered a smile on his face though and thanked his friends for their efforts. It was a great party and Tuck had slaved all day in the kitchen over his cake, he didn’t want to be ungrateful and pout just because you had a very reasonable excuse not to be there. Logan and Dean had taken on the task of trying to set him up with one of the many girls throwing themselves at him, but he politely rejected each one.
“Alright, that’s enough. What gives? That chick was literally offering to get on her knees for you in the middle of the living room,” Dean scoffed and squinted his eyes at Garrett to try and read his mind somehow.
“Nothing, man, I’m just not in the mood. Look, I appreciate it, really, but I just-” Garrett was cut off by a knock on the door. He was lucky he was standing close enough to even hear it over the sound of the party filling the house. His brows furrowed when the knocking continued, no one usually knocked, they just let themselves in.
He shared a look with Logan before going to answer the door. His eyebrows scrunched in confusion when he saw you standing on his front stoop, a suitcase by your feet and a small helium balloon with the ‘New Year’ in ‘Happy New Year’ crossed out with Sharpie and ‘birthday’ written under it. You could see the gears turning in his head in real time as he tried to figure out if you were really here or if he was way drunker than he thought.
“Happy birthday,” you smiled brightly up at him and barely had time to react before he was leaning down and scooping you up into a tight hug. Your feet lifted off the ground slightly as your arms looped around his shoulders and his arms secured themselves around your back. “I missed you too, bub,” you chuckled and buried your face in his neck, feeling immediately at home when his woodsy cologne hit your nose.
His lips found the side of your head before he let you stand back on your own two feet. He pulled back slightly, but kept his hands braced on your waist. “What are you doing here? I thought…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head in disbelief.
You shrugged slightly and reached up to brush some of his messy curls back from his face. “Come on, you thought I was gonna miss the greatest party of the century?” You laughed, quoting Dean with air quotes. Garrett swallowed harshly around the lump in his throat as tears pricked at his eyes. You frowned up at him and rubbed his bicep soothingly, “hey, what’s wrong? Did I come at a bad time?”
He shook his head quickly and his bright smile finally appeared, unwavering as he cupped your face in his hands. “I just can’t believe you’re here. God, I’ve missed you so much and I-” he paused and his eyes flicked down to your lips, a movement you couldn’t miss if you tried. His voice was softer when he spoke again, “I wished for you. The guys made me blow out 22 candles and nearly caught the house on fire and I… I wished for you.”
It was your turn to get choked up and you leaned into his touch like second nature. How you thought you could survive being away from him this long? No clue. Your hands slid up to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his soft hair so you could pull him down and press your lips to his in a kiss that you felt like you’d waited your whole life for.
You could vaguely hear the guys whooping and whistling behind him where you two stood in the doorway, but you didn’t give it a second thought. Garrett kissed you back eagerly and one of his hands slid down to your lower back, keeping you pressed to him in a silent reminder that you were never leaving him again.
notes: you know the trope, fluff, mild smut, mild angst, mentions of ph*l graham, reader has brown eyes & brown hair, no use of y/n
When you first met John Logan, you were a freshman in college, awkward and still figuring yourself out. He was confident and smooth and everything you weren’t, not the type of guy you’d run into naturally in any of your social circles. It was only because you were Garrett Graham’s twin sister that you even met him at all. And despite how similar you and Garrett looked, with dark, curly hair and deep, brown eyes, you couldn’t have had more opposite personalities.
It took a few months for you to warm up to all of his roommates, but once you did, you were practically a fifth housemate and were closer to all of them than Garrett himself was. Where he kept himself reserved and private, you were a welcoming and open book. Well, mostly. There were still things you didn’t talk about, parts of your shared childhood that you kept just between the two of you. Memories of your father that explained why Garrett was so protective of you. And you loved your brother for it, really. But you had lost too many boyfriends already because “I didn’t like how he looked at you” or “he should’ve walked you to your car” and countless other reasons. All it took was one talk with him and any boy that you liked suddenly avoided you like the plague.
It got easier in college to keep your dating life to yourself. You didn’t introduce anyone to Garrett until you were absolutely sure. Which only happened once and a month later, it had ended on its own anyway.
That led you to your junior year. You had long since developed a crush on Logan, a truly devastating one, and had no intentions of acting on it because you liked the guy too much to watch him be killed by your brother. This worked for all of three weeks into the semester until you ended up at the house for a party after they had a particularly satisfying win against their biggest competition.
You had gotten used to watching Logan pick a puck bunny to flirt with before he took them upstairs. But this time, he’d spent all night with you. It wasn’t unusual, really, you were good friends with all of them. It was the way he looked at you that felt different. That, combined with the flirting and the kiss he stole when no one was looking. And only in your filthiest dreams did you imagine being one of the girls he brought up to his room, so when it finally happened, you had to pinch yourself to be sure it was real.
You weren’t naive, you knew he didn’t date. You knew it was just a one-time deal. Until you woke up the next morning with his arm heavy around your waist and his chest bare against your back. You held back a groan from the hangover that the light shining through the curtains was provoking and tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold to find your pants.
“G’morning,” he grumbled and tightened his arm around you, pulling you back against his chest.
You turned around in his arms to see his eyes still closed, but his lips were turned up in the smallest smile. “Hi,” you whispered back and let your head fall back to the pillow, “are you gonna let me get dressed or am I trapped here?”
His eyes finally opened and landed on you as his smile formed fully. “What’s the rush? It’s Sunday morning, I know you don’t have class,” his voice was rough with sleep and his hair was sticking in every direction. A rush of warmth spread through your gut as you remembered your fingers tugging through his hair as his face buried between your thighs.
“No, but I have a brother that doesn’t need to see me making the walk of shame from your room,” you teased and ran your fingers through his hair again. Because if this was the only chance you were gonna get, you were going to take full advantage of it.
He leaned into your touch with a small hum and slid his hand down to your hip to pull you closer to him. “Stay,” he murmured and trailed his nose down your jaw before his lips found your neck, “I’ll distract him later, don’t leave yet.”
“Logan…” you tried for a warning tone, but your head was tilting back and giving him space without your permission.
You felt his lips smile against your skin as he rolled you back onto the mattress. Your legs opened for him to fit between them and his hands slid up your bare thighs, only meeting the hem of his t-shirt that sat just below your hips. “Do you want me to stop?” He asked quietly, lifting his head to meet your eyes.
Despite knowing it was a terrible idea, you couldn’t stand the thought of losing his weight settled between your hips and the warmth of his hands over your thighs. You shook your head quickly and pulled him down into a needy kiss. “Don’t you dare,” you mumbled against his lips and wrapped your legs around his waist.
You continued like this for weeks, hooking up in secret and not talking about the feelings that were behind every kiss and every morning you woke up in his bed. He had stopped hooking up with girls at parties and you tried not to let it go to your head, but you knew it meant something. An unspoken agreement that you two were exclusive. The other agreement was spoken out loud; under no circumstances could Garrett find out.
And as it turned out, the two of you were actually quite awful at being inconspicuous. Dean was the first to catch you.
It was a Wednesday afternoon and the hockey house was mercifully empty except for you and Logan, which meant you were free to be as clingy and affectionate as you wanted in the open kitchen. You both had a break between your afternoon classes and you sat on the counter, watching as Logan heated leftovers from Tuck for the two of you.
While the food was in the microwave, he came to stand between your legs and you welcomed him easily into your space. Your arms hung loosely around his neck and his hands rested on your hips, pulling them towards the edge of the counter. “Hi,” you grinned and pulled him lower to reach his lips.
Logan mumbled a ‘hi’ back into the kiss, but before it could go any further, you both jumped at the sound of Dean’s voice. “Well, hi,” he said cheerfully, leaning against the wall with an amused look on his face, “this is cozy.”
You let go of Logan immediately and pushed at his chest, but it was useless. Dean had clearly been standing there long enough and your cheeks turned bright pink. “Uh, hey. You- we thought everyone was gone,” you stumbled out and crossed your arms over your chest as you hopped off the counter.
“Hey, don’t let me stop you, it looked like it was just getting good,” he smirked and you hated how much he was clearly enjoying this. Then he turned to Logan and let out a low whistle, “oh man, G is gonna kill you.”
“You cannot tell him!” You blurted out, searching the counter for a knife to threaten him with if you had to.
Dean raised his hands in defense and let out a laugh. “Relax, Baby Graham, I won’t say a word,” he assured you, using the nickname you’d earned your first year, despite being the exact same age as Garrett, “but he’s gonna find out. You two are so obvious, I’ve known for like two weeks now.”
You shot a panicked look at Logan who finally stepped in. “Alright, enough, D,” he ran a hand through his hair, “we’ll handle it, just keep your mouth shut.”
Dean mimed a zipper over his mouth before leaving you alone in the kitchen again.
After that, Tucker finding out was inevitable. It wasn’t even your fault that time, the bathroom lock didn’t work properly and Tuck had walked in to see you in a position that left very little to the imagination. The universe had given you the small grace of still having a towel wrapped around yourself when Tucker walked in.
He immediately slapped a hand over his eyes and turned around. “I didn’t see anything!” He announced, fumbling blindly behind his back for the door knob.
He finally found it and started to swing the door shut before Logan cut in. “That’s right and if you tell Garrett about what you didn’t see, I’ll kill you,” he warned before the door clicked shut.
There were several close calls with Garrett, but the last one was your final straw. You had snuck out of another party together and were pressed with your back against his bedroom door while his hands worked your dress up over your hips and his own jeans were kicked off somewhere carelessly in the room.
He slid into you in one smooth thrust and your head fell back against the door as a moan was dragged from your chest. Your legs were locked tightly around his waist, holding yourself up between him and the door. “Logan,” you moaned, meeting him in a messy, needy kiss.
“I’ve got you, baby,” his voice was strained and he gripped your hip tightly while his free hand was flat against the door next to your head.
You were so lost in the feeling of him driving into you and his mouth tasting every inch of your neck and jaw that you almost didn’t hear the knock on the door, except that you felt it against your back and froze.
“Hey, Logan, have you seen my sister?” Garrett’s voice rang through the door and your wide eyes snapped to Logan’s.
His hand slapped over your mouth, muffling the whimper that you couldn’t hold back as he stood up straighter, making his length slide deeper into you. “Garrett, hey,” Logan cleared his throat and let his forehead fall to your shoulder, “I’m a bit- fuck, bit busy right now. I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”
It was silent for a moment before you could hear a quiet ‘ohhh’ from Garrett through the door. “Shit, my bad, man,” he said louder, “I’ll look downstairs again. Have fun!”
You held your breath as you heard his footsteps retreating back down the hall. You smacked Logan’s shoulder as his hand fell from your mouth. “Did you seriously have to keep going? He-”
You were cut off with a loud moan as he snapped his hips forward again. “What was that?” He gave you a cocky grin and slid his hand between your bodies to draw slow circles over your swollen clit, matching the slow but deep pace he’d set with his hips, “you were saying something about stopping?”
“Oh fuck you,” you gasped out, letting your head fall back against the door, Garrett already long forgotten as he fucked you into oblivion.
Finally, you decided you had to actually talk about this thing you were doing. The risk and sneaking around was hot, sure, but at this rate, Garrett was going to find out and you either needed to stop altogether or figure out what it was.
“Hey,” you spoke up from Logan’s bed, still in your pajamas as he moved around the room, getting dressed for morning practice. You picked nervously at a loose thread on his blanket and cleared your throat. “I like you,” you blurted out, watching as he dropped the shoe he was holding and turned to face you.
“I like you, too,” he said easily and leaned down to kiss your forehead before returning to his shoes.
You felt your cheeks heat up and you moved forward until you could press yourself to his back where he was hunched over, tying his laces. “I don’t know how smart it is for us to keep sneaking around like this,” you said softly and rested your cheek against his shoulder.
You felt him tense under you before he was turning around and frowning at you. “You want to end things?” He asked, hurt laced in his tone.
“No,” you insisted and reached for his hand to pull it into your lap, “no, I just… I mean, he’s gonna find out. He’s already suspicious and I think we should… we should know what this is before that happens, you know? I mean, he’s gonna freak the fuck out if he knows we’re hooking up. But if he knew it was, I don’t know, serious, maybe he’d understand?”
His shoulders relaxed and he smiled before pulling you into his lap. “Baby,” his voice was soft as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, “is this your way of asking if we’re dating?”
You tried to hide your face in your hands, but he didn’t let you. He tilted your chin up, making you face him. “I just think we should be on the same page,” you mumbled, cheeks flaming in nerves and embarrassment.
“Of course we’re dating. And it’s serious to me,” his smile softened and he leaned down to kiss you sweetly, “and I have no problem telling Garrett that. Preferably with witnesses around, but I do eventually want to be able to take you out properly.”
You melted into him and pulled yourself closer to hug yourself to his chest. “It’s serious to me, too,” you said, your voice muffled by his shirt.
The plan was simple. Get Garrett one of his favorite beers, sit him down for a movie night, and tell him. Of course, this was easier in theory than practice, because you had a day decided, but Garrett came home in a huffy mood.
He grumbled to himself about missed passes and shitty stick work as he stomped around the kitchen like a child. You shot Logan a concerned look and were met with a small shrug. ‘Shit practice,’ he mouthed and grabbed a beer from the fridge before pressing it into Garrett’s hands. “Here, man, relax,” he guided him to sit down at one of the bar stools, “it’s all good, just have a beer. We’ll figure out the pass play tomorrow, no sense stressing about it tonight.”
Garrett slumped into the stool and took a sip of his beer, a scowl still on his face. “Hey, bub, you want me to make some popcorn? We can just have a chill movie night,” you offered, already searching the cabinets for the movie butter popcorn you kept hidden from Tucker.
“Yeah, okay,” he sighed heavily, “I guess that sounds nice.”
You considered that a small victory and got the popcorn started while Logan and Garrett went to pick a movie. With a fresh bowl of popcorn, you joined them on the couch and sat next to Logan, your thigh pressing into his.
“Um, Gare, actually,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and sent Logan a small smile when he grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze, “we wanted to tell you something real quick.”
Garrett’s eyes landed on your hands before looking between the two of you. He was silent for a moment with a completely blank face before he finally spoke. “No,” he said simply and turned back to the TV.
Your shoulders sagged and you frowned at the side of his head. “What do you mean, no?” You asked, your arms now crossed protectively over your chest.
“I mean, no. Not happening,” he said like it was a matter of fact and leaned back into the couch, far too comfortable for your liking.
You were on your feet then, already prepared to fight with him. “Yeah, that doesn’t really clarify anything for me considering I wasn’t asking for your permission,” you said, your voice rising as Logan stood with you, a steady hand on your back.
“What do you want then, my blessing? The answer is no. I’m not going to sit here and act like I don’t already know how this is gonna end,” he finally looked at you before looking at Logan, “look, no offense, man, but you’re not good enough for her. I’ve seen how many girls you’ve slept with and I’m not about to let her just be another one of them.”
You stepped back like you’d been slapped and blinked back tears at his words. “You’re being cruel. He is not dad and I am not mom,” you snapped, not sparing him another glance before storming off to go outside and get some fresh air.
You had somewhat managed to calm yourself down before you heard the door open behind you. You rolled your eyes when you saw it was Garrett and turned to lean against the stone wall surrounding the porch. “What do you want?” You snapped, looking down at your feet.
“Come on, don’t pout,” he sighed and leaned against the wall next to you, “I’m sorry, okay? I know I… get a little over protective sometimes.”
You scoffed and gave him a look. “Sometimes?”
“Okay, a lot of the time. I get it,” he nudged your shoulder with his, “I just… don’t ever want you to end up like mom did. In a relationship with someone that doesn’t respect you the way you deserve. And I love Logan, he’s a great guy, but he’s also spent the past three years fucking anything that moves.”
“Garrett,” you sighed and finally turned to face him, “I know you want to protect me. I know how much you gave up to keep me safe,” you paused, biting your bottom lip before bringing up the thing you two had spent years not talking about. “I know you didn’t want to play hide and seek so you could try and find me. I put it together when I was hiding under the kitchen sink and I heard dad break the dining room chair,” your voice was softer now as you relived the distant memory, “I will never stop being grateful for having you, bub. But this whole time, I wasn’t looking for guys that treated me like dad did. I was looking for guys that treated me like you do. And Logan? He’s good to me. He treats me like royalty.”
Garrett’s eyes were brimmed with tears as he pulled you into a tight hug. “I love you, kid,” he mumbled, despite technically being four minutes younger than you, “and I know Logan’s not an asshole. He just spent the past 20 minutes laying into me. He’s… he’s serious about you. And I know he won’t hurt you. Mostly because I threatened to break his kneecaps if he did.”
Your chest felt warm at hearing how Logan had stood up for you and you let out a weak chuckle before slapping Garrett’s chest playfully. “You wouldn’t do that, you need him as your right winger too badly,” you rolled your eyes and wiped any stray tears from your face, “I’m serious about him, too, for what it’s worth.”
When you got back inside, Logan was sitting on the couch waiting anxiously with his leg shaking nervously. “Everything okay?” He asked quietly, sharing a look with you.
You nodded and gave him a reassuring smile before settling onto the couch next to him and curling into his side. “Everything’s good,” you promised and turned to Garrett, “movie night now?”
He nodded and spread out on the opposite side of the couch before picking a movie. While he was scrolling through movies, you tilted your head up to Logan to steal a small kiss. “I saw that,” Garrett said without even turning his head towards you, “I might be okay with this, but that doesn’t mean I need to see it.”
“Don’t watch, then, you creep,” you laughed and threw a pillow at his head before meeting Logan for another kiss.
notes: sorry for the disappearance, family shit be going down, but i am back 😁 pure fluff & clingy dean, no use of y/n
Being the Briar University hockey team’s social media manager meant you always had an excuse to be asking the guys questions on cameras and having them try different trends. Being Dean DiLaurentis’s girlfriend meant you often took advantage of this opportunity to take as many videos of your boyfriend as you wanted. And while it was mostly thirst traps of him working out, a recent social media trend made inspiration strike.
It started out small. You had your phone camera propped up on the coffee table in front of you while Dean moved around your apartment, getting ready for practice. You hit record just a minute before he was about to leave and smiled warmly up at him when he leaned down to press a kiss to your head. It wasn't odd for you to be recording yourself, as you often did product reviews and gave updates on the team. So he didn't think anything of it until he slung his bag over his shoulder and opened the door. “Bye, baby, I love you,” he called from the doorway, waiting for your reply.
You forced a normal smile on your face when you called back, “bye, have a good practice!” The door was nearly shut before it swung open again.
“I will, love you,” he repeated, hand waiting impatiently on the door knob.
You bit back a laugh and turned your attention back to your laptop in front of you, pretending to be distracted with something else. “Okay, bye babe,” you kept your tone as casual as possible and didn't let him see your smile when you heard him huff at the door.
You heard his bag drop to the floor and looked up to see his eyebrows furrowed and his arms crossed over his chest. His bottom lip was slightly pouted out and you had to stop yourself from giving in just at the sight of him. “I said, I love you," he exasperated and threw his hands up dramatically.
“I heard you, Dean, and I told you to have a good practice,” you said in faux confusion and tilted your head at him, “why are you still here? You're gonna be late.”
“I don't care if I'm late,” he frowned and knelt down next to the arm of the couch so he could rest his chin on top of his hands there, “what's going on? You didn't say it back… are we okay?”
And really, you didn't have that much strength to begin with. So whatever resolve was left completely melted when you heard the concern in his voice and saw the worried look on his face. “Oh, baby,” you finally let out a laugh and reached for him, “it was just a prank video for the account. I love you, too, of course I do.”
The video cut off just before he tackled you to the couch. He didn't leave until you said ‘I love you’ more times than you could count and ended up making himself half an hour late to practice.
After how well the first video did and all of the ideas you were getting messages about, you decided to up your game. This time, you brought Garrett, Logan, and Tucker in too to avoid suspicion from Dean.
“Alright guys, you guys are each gonna try three milkshakes and see if you can guess the flavor. They're supposed to be really crazy specific flavors,” you explained, setting up the drinks in front of the camera.
Dean went first, both of you sat at the bar stools as he sipped the first milkshake. His eyes lit up at the taste and despite the entire video idea being fake, you did at least get a flavor you knew he’d love. “Oh my god, this tastes just like those cherry chocolates we get at Christmas,” he said and went back for another sip.
“Really? Here, let me try,” you held your hand out for him to pass you the cup. You did your best to keep your face serious as you used the bottom of your shirt to wipe the straw off before taking a sip of it.
Dean watched you with furrowed brows and hesitantly took the cup back when you offered it. He went through the same process with the next cup before handing it to you, “try this one, I think you’ll like it.”
You accepted the cup and wiped the straw again, ignoring his small scoff before sipping it. “I'm not sick, you know,” he said, confused.
“I know,” you shrugged and handed the cup back to him.
Before he handed you the last cup, he made a show of licking the entire straw and wrapping his lips as low around the straw as he could reach. You scrunched your nose and let out a small chuckle. “What are you doing? Don't be gross,” you snatched the cup from him but didn't get to wipe the straw before he was taking it back from you.
“Okay, enough!” He huffed and popped the lid off to get a mouthful of the milkshake before grabbing you to pull you into a kiss. He’d swallowed the milkshake, but you could still taste it on his lips and his tongue that was making sure to claim every inch of your mouth.
“Dean! What the hell?” You laughed, wiping the remnants of the milkshake from your lips.
He shrugged with a small smirk on his face and took another sip of the milkshake. “Just making sure you could taste it,” he said innocently before getting up for the next guy to film.
The last prank you managed was small, meant to be silly, but Dean was now always suspicious when you had your phone pointed at him or your camera filming in general.
So this time, you had your laptop open on the coffee table, pointed towards the two of you with your camera on and something covering the screen so he couldn't see the video. Your feet were in his lap and you had your phone in your hand while he leaned back with a xbox controller in his hands.
“Oh my god, babe, you're not gonna believe this,” you faked a gasp, keeping your phone in front of you.
He glanced over at you before back at the TV, “what? What happened?”
You bit your lip to hold back a laugh and nudged him with your foot. “I just found Tucker on Tinder! You have to see this, he went full Texas on his profile,” you said dramatically and pulled up the fake screenshot you'd made of a profile with Tuck’s photo.
“No way,” he gasped and hit pause on his game before turning to you, “let me see, let me see!” You handed your phone over and watched him grab it with excitement before his eyes landed on the Tinder logo and it all clicked slowly into place. “Wait a minute, you found this yourself? Why are you on Tinder? While you're sitting right next to me!”
Any of his anger or worry disappeared when you burst into a fit of giggles and he dropped your phone with a groan. “This is just getting mean,” he whined, grabbing your feet and tugging you closer to him.
His fingers found your sides and tickled relentlessly until you were out of breath and calling for a truce. “Okay, okay! No more pranks,” you laughed and swatted his hands away.
“Oh no, you've started it now. Don't think I won't get my payback,” he grinned down at you and reached over to close your laptop before you spent the rest of the night making it up to him for all of the silly pranks.
notes: part two! fluff, happy ending, no use of y/n
The text came less than 24 hours later. You were leaving dinner with your friends when your phone buzzed in your purse. You glanced down at it and froze when you saw his name pop up. Dean. With the same heart emojis you’d put next to his name back in high school and his contact photo a much younger version of himself making a goofy but endearing face at the camera.
hey, last night was a bit crazy. are you still in town?
You shoved your phone back in your purse and left it there until you made it back to the apartment you were staying at. Not only were you still in town, you would be until the spring semester started up again. You were spending all of winter break here at Briar with one of your friends.
Once back in the privacy of your bed, you read the text again. And again, for good measure. You typed out and deleted a few drafts before finally responding.
yeah, i’ll be here for a bit. unless you need me to bail you out of jail, then i’m not here
His response was instant.
don’t worry, i charmed my way out of any serious charges ;)
classic
some things never change. can i buy you a coffee?
You fought the urge to ask if his girlfriend would be okay with that. It wasn’t your business and it’s not like anything would be happening that his girlfriend could have a problem with. You were just two old friends catching up over coffee, nothing more.
no, but you can buy me a matcha. tomorrow?
i’ll meet you here at 10
His text had a location attached and you clicked it to find it was only a 10 minute walk from where you were staying. After thumbs upping the message, you set an alarm and shoved your phone under your pillow, trying to calm your heart rate into something normal.
Sleep after that was nearly impossible. You tossed and turned and every time you closed your eyes you saw bright green ones staring back at you, you saw tousled blond hair and a busted lip. And the most restless one, you saw a girl at his side, touching him in a way he didn’t pull away from. That was the one that stuck. You weren’t going to be that girl that just showed back up and expected to still have some claim over another girl’s man.
After a restless night and a few hours of actual sleep, you rolled out of bed and clicked your alarm off. You didn’t even hit your usual two snoozes, too anxious and eager to sleep any longer. You changed into three different outfits before settling on the right one and when your friend wiggled their eyebrows at you asking where you were off to, your blushed cheeks gave away any attempt at suaveness.
Despite being 15 minutes early, you were still later than Dean, who sat at a table in the corner with his fingers tapping anxiously and his eyes constantly scanning the room. They landed on you the second you stepped into the cafe, your nose red from the cold and your cheeks red from his attention. The sight of him already there, even earlier than you were, made your heart skip.
“Hey,” he stood up to greet you and you saw nerves hidden behind his wide grin, “I’m glad you came, I got you a matcha with soy milk and honey. I hope that's okay, I can get you something else if-”
You cut him off with a small laugh and a shake of your head. “No, that's perfect. Thank you,” you slid into the seat across from him and reached for the still hot mug in front of you. You took a sip that warmed your stomach, both from the warm liquid and the knowledge that Dean had gotten your order perfect, even after all these years. Your eyes glanced down to his split lip and then back up to meet his gaze, “are you okay? I feel like I kind of walked into something intense last night.”
“Uh, yeah,” he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair, “it’s kind of a long, complicated story, but everything’s fine. Just a stupid bar fight that got way out of control.” You could tell there was more he was holding back, but you didn’t push. “I can’t say that’s how I was planning for my night to go, but I’m… I’m really glad I ran into you,” his eyes met yours and you swallowed harshly, his gaze just as intense as you had remembered, if not more.
“Yeah,” you breathed out with a small nod and picked at a napkin as you spoke, “yeah, me too. And you’re doing good? Other than last night, obviously,” you chuckled and revelled in the smile it drew from him.
He nodded and took a sip of his own coffee. “I’m good, yeah. Hockey’s good, you’d really like the guys I live with from my team, they’re great. Classes are classes, you know. What about you? What brings you to town?” He asked, leaning forward on the table.
You listened to him talk about his life here and wondered if his lack of mentioning a girlfriend was intentional or not. Then you mentally scolded yourself, because seriously, not your business. “Oh, I was planning on just going home for winter break, but one of my friends here is going through this horrible breakup, so,” you shrugged slightly in lieu of the whole dramatic story, “we’re having a little girls trip here for the holidays.”
His eyes lit up when you told him you’d be here for all of winter break and through the holidays and you tried desperately not to blush as you noticed it. The conversation flowed easily after that. It was almost like no time had passed at all. Dean told you about his hockey season and the latest drama Summer was up to and you told him about your friends back at school and how you were going for your Masters after you graduated next year.
Your drinks were both long empty and the coffee shop had significantly died down when you felt your stomach grumble obnoxiously between you. “Shit,” you laughed and checked the time on your phone, “I didn’t even realize it was so late.”
Dean hesitated before clearing his throat, “I know a great Thai place down the block, if you’re hungry. I would kill for their noodles right now.”
You froze at the question and begged your heart to chill the hell out. Lunch was still just friendly, right? It wasn’t some big love declaration. “Yeah, actually. That sounds great,” you agreed with a small smile and followed him out of the cafe.
It was shortly after you both had your food when you finally swallowed your nerves and broached the topic. “You still haven’t told me about the girl from last night. She seemed pretty upset,” you commented, trying to keep your voice casual as you picked at your food, “is she a girlfriend, or…?”
“Ah,” was all Dean said and you wanted to roll your eyes at his lack of any helpful information, but you just nodded for him to continue. “Allie, no she’s not a girlfriend. We were hooking up for a while, it wasn’t serious,” he paused, debating on whether he should say more before deciding that there would never be anyone easier than you to talk to about things, “I wanted it to be, I think. I was gonna bring it up last night at the bar before… yeah. She uh, she slept with someone else. Which is fine, we agreed we should sleep with other people so it’s not like she did anything wrong, honestly.”
You nodded understandingly and reached across the table to give his arm a small squeeze. “Still, it must have hurt. I’m sorry,” you said genuinely before letting your hand fall back to your lap, “she seemed pretty torn up last night, you don’t think you two will work it out?”
“No,” his response was immediate, but there was no anger behind it, “I mean, it hurt like hell, yeah. And I don’t hate her or anything, but, I don’t know… as much as it hurt, it didn’t,” he paused and looked down at his food, mostly just moving it around his plate, “it didn’t hurt nearly as much as losing you did.”
His admission made your breath catch in your throat and your fork slipped from your grip as you stared at him. “Dean, I…” you tried to find the right words to say, but failed.
“I’m sorry, that was a lot,” he stepped in before you could stumble through your words, “you don’t need to say anything, I wasn’t trying to say that as a guilt trip or anything. I just mean, it only hurt so much to lose you because of how much I love you and I think if this thing with Allie was real or meant to be, it would’ve hurt me more, you know?”
You tried to listen to everything he was saying, but it was like your brain short circuited as soon as he said it. “Love?” You choked out, eyes wide, “love as in… not past tense?”
Dean’s cheeks turned red and he suddenly got shy in a way he hadn’t ever done since high school. “I mean… yeah. Yeah, present tense. I don’t think I’ll ever not love you,” he admitted around a heavy breath, “obviously, I don’t expect you to feel the same, it’s been years and you have a whole life outside of-”
“I love you, too,” you cut him off before he could come up with some excuse for you not to, “of course I love you, too, I never stopped.”
The two of you sat in shock at the reality of the situation until a smile grew on his face and he pushed his food to the side, barely touched, so he could reach across the table for your hands. You let him take your hands, how could you not? “Be with me, then,” he said like it was the easiest thing in the world and your heart beat wildly in your chest.
“Dean…” you bit your lower lip and dropped your shoulders slightly, “I mean, I’m still going back to school in January and I’m staying for another 3 years to get my Masters and you still have another year here and you have hockey and-”
He shook his head and stopped you with a squeeze of your hands. “I don’t care about any of that. I mean, I do, but not enough to let me let you go again. We do long distance for a year. It’ll suck, but it’s temporary. I’ll come to you after I graduate, I’ll go anywhere you ask me to, just… just trust me. We can do it right this time. We’re not kids anymore and we’re not looking at an indefinite amount of time apart, just a year.”
His eyes searched yours, wide and hopeful, and really, there was no choice to be made. “Okay,” you breathed out, a teary-eyed smile breaking out over your face as you nodded eagerly, “okay, yeah, we can do this.”
He stood up from the table and pulled you up by your hands until you stood in front of him. He didn’t waste any time after that. Three years of not kissing you was already too long, so he slid his hands up to cup your cheeks and pulled you into a kiss right there in the middle of the restaurant. In any other scenario, you would’ve hated the attention from the other patrons and you would’ve hated being that cheesy cliche couple. But this was Dean and you couldn’t focus on any of that as his lips moved slow and sweet against yours.
You held onto his wrists to keep him close and kissed him back just as eagerly. He had a set to his jaw that wasn’t there in high school and his muscles were firmer under your touch, but underneath it all, his lips still fit perfectly against yours.
“I love you,” he pressed his forehead to yours and stroked his thumbs over your cheeks.
“I love you, too,” you whispered and leaned up for another kiss.
The first time Tucker says it, you've just hung up the phone with his mom. He sat at the counter across from you where you furiously wrote down notes, intent on perfecting his mother's recipe. There's a small furrow in your brow and a pencil tucked behind your ear as you read over your notes.
"We need to add fresh ginger to the list. The ground ginger we have in the cabinet isn't the same," you mumbled, scratching another note down. You looked up to see him watching you with a fond smile stretched over his face and his phone is sat open in front of him with no changes made to the grocery list. "Tuck, ginger," you reminded him, raising an eyebrow.
"I love you," he said simply, like it was a perfectly reasonable response to asking for ginger. Your mouth opened and closed a few times, trying to wrap your head around the complete 180 the conversation had taken. Your cheeks were already flushed from the heat the oven was filling the kitchen with, but they turned even darker as he stared at you shamelessly.
"What?" You eventually squeaked out, dropping the pencil forgotten on the counter. Your eyes were wide, watching him as he stood up and rounded the counter until he stood in front of you.
His hands found your hips and he brushed a stray piece of hair from your face that had fallen loose in your cooking-induced chaos. "I love you. And I'll add ginger to the list," he grinned, a dimple popping out on one of his cheeks.
You melted under his touch and slid your hands up over his broad shoulders until your fingers twisted lightly in the curls at the back of his neck. "I love you, too," you finally said and smiled brightly back up at him. You stretched up slightly to press your lips to his cheek, right where your favorite little dimple popped out, before pressing another kiss to his lips.
The lists were left forgotten behind you as Tucker caged you in against the counter and leaned down to meet your lips eagerly. Your fingers tugged lightly at his curls in a way that you knew would have him groaning into your mouth and kissing you harder. It worked like magic and before you could even think about it, he had you sitting up on the counter with your legs bracketing his hips.
Your makeout session was interrupted by your phone timer blaring obnoxiously to alert you to check the oven. You let out a surprised gasp against his lips and jumped from the sound before letting your head fall to his chest with a laugh. "I told you not to distract me," you scolded him and slid off the counter.
His arms stayed looped around your waist as you turned back around and his chin hooked over your shoulder, watching you scribble over your notes again. "I can't help it. I love you," he mumbled against your ear and you could feel his smile against your skin.
You reached down to give his arm a small squeeze and let a matching smile spread across your face. "I love you, too, but next time can you wait to make big romantic declarations when I'm not trying to impress your mother?" You teased and freed yourself from his hold to open the oven and turn the pan around.
He opened his mouth to retort but was once again cut off by your phone, this time with his mother calling back. He answered with a "Hi, Mama," and gave you another quick kiss to the cheek before letting you focus on not burning anything.
