v33mustdie @v33mustdie - Tumblr Blog

Jul 24

summary: on your way to sioux falls for a one person road trip, your car completely dies. fortunately, your dad knows a guy, at singer auto salvage, who can come tow you. that guy may or may not be dean winchester. pairings : au older dbf/mechanic! dean x reader (f) warnings: age gap 20s-40s, dean is a smoker , suggestive dialogue , reader is lowkey a bratty daddy’s girl. probably wrong car lingo. meet cute. no smutt (yet). no use of y/n word count: 4.8k (sorry ik its kinda long lol) kay’s notes: this is my first time writing anything fanfic related so please keep that in mind. idk what i'm doing and don’t know shit about south dakota. also, this is very self indulgent for me cause i got towed by a friend of my dads a while ago and he said some shit that pissed me clean off but it inspired me to write this cause i love daydreaming about dean. if y’all like this, let me know cause i might continue the story and make it a mini series!

12:43 am

Glancing away from your dashboard and back on the road, you let out a long and drawn out sigh. You’ve been driving through the winding backroads and rolling mountains of South Dakota for nearly four hours now. Driving by yourself for this long is no easy or super entertaining feat in the dead of night like this. Thumbing through your old playlists and listening to podcasts was all you could do to entertain yourself for so long.

The sun had long been set. The headlights on your old beater of a car were trying their best but the soft yellow lights only allowed you so much vision of the dark road ahead.

After trying to entertain your thoughts for so long while staying focused enough for such a tedious drive, the exhaustion started to tug at your eyelids. You had reached the point of boredom where you caught yourself yawning once every few minutes. The steering wheel occasionally veering your car over the lines of the road.

Shaking your head, as if that will brush off your growing tiredness, you decide to call and check in with some of your friends to kill time. Also, because you really can't give in to the sleepiness when you only have like, what, forty five minutes left till you reach the hotel? Pshhh , that's nothing. You've made it this far. What's another few minutes?

You're in the middle of listening to your closest friend recounting an argument that she and her boyfriend had earlier that day when the accelerator of your car lurches forward just a touch. Frowning, you look down at your the dashboard to see if any warning lights are on (other than the check engine light that has mysteriously been on and off for months now). You slip out an "Uh huh" to let your friend know you're still listening to her rant.

She continues, "And then he had the nerve to tell me that I don't respect his relationship wi-"

Your foot continues to press the accelerator only to lurch forward again and then show resistance. And although you're trying to press the gas harder in hopes that it’ll pick back up in speed, the car only seems to slow down with each press of your foot. The harder you press, the car continues to lurch forward just to not go above 15 mph.

Two warning lights pop up around the speedometer and you see one of them is a flashing triangle with an exclamation mark.

“Oh, come the fuck on.” You huff, hitting the steering wheel with your palms, you pull off to the side and turn on your hazard lights.

Your friend, still on the phone, thinks you’re just agreeing with whatever she was ranting about. “I know right? He’s a class act-“ She goes to continue before you cut her off, mid sentence.

“Hey, I’m gonna have to call you back. My car just shit the bed and i’ve still got a ways to go before I can get to the hotel. I gotta call my dad or something.” You say, trying not to let your frustration seep into your tone.

You both say your goodbyes, her wishing you good luck with the car and hoping you get home safe. You hang up and rest your head against the steering wheel, once again huffing a long sigh. In hopes that she might have just needed a break: you try cutting the engine, giving it a few moments, and then restarting..... the warning and check engine lights are still staring back at you.

This is not the first or even second time your beater of a car has left you stranded. The last time you found yourself stuck with that hunk of junk on the side of the road was when you’d paid a weekend trip to the nearest body of water. You’d made it all the way there just for the starter to completely give up on you once you tried to leave. Your dad had to drive two and a half hours to the beach just to come fix it for you.

Thankfully, you knew that you could count on him in this moment to tell you what to do and who to call.

Your dad picks up your facetime call after the first ring. His glasses hanging on the tip of his nose and his smile lights up his entire face upon seeing you. The angle of his phone fully showing off his double chin. You can’t help but smile seeing his sweet face. "Hey, sweetie. The drive going okay? You can't be too far from the hotel by now."

“Well, I was about forty five minutes out from the hotel… but look at this shit.” You flip the camera to show him your lit up dashboard and pause for dramatic effect.

You see your dad squinting his eyes through your screen, adjusting his glasses on his nose to see better.

You continue, “It started doing that thing where it lurches when I press the gas, then just stopped going altogether. I can’t get my speed above 15 miles per hour and these two service lights popped up.”

He pauses, “Alright…… well, can you make it to the hotel?” As if getting to your destination with your car like that was still in the realm of possibility.

“Dad, what? I just told you, I can’t get any speed. The harder I pressed on the gas, the more it slowed down. I can’t get anywhere like this. ”

Another pause. “Did you try cuttin’ it off and back on?”

“Yep.” You’re starting to get frustrated with him. Just because you’re a young woman, doesn’t mean that you’re completely clueless. Even if you’re starting to feel that way. Being stranded in the dark, on the side of a back road, by yourself, and so far from home has the feeling of helplessness clawing its way up your throat.

“Where are you right now? Try seeing if that worked and if it’ll let you drive any further.” He asks, in hopes that the car will somehow, miraculously, fix itself.

Checking your review and side mirrors to make sure it’s clear, putting the car in drive. You try creeping the car forward, only for it to make a god awful crunching noise soon as you press the gas pedal.

Your dad grimaces at the noise and says, “Woah woah. Okay, kid. Just pull off to the side. Send me your location. I have a friend in Sioux Falls that might be able to tow you, god willin’. ”

You let out a sigh of relief, tilting your head back towards the ceiling. You could always count on him to help you out of tough situations like this one. And while your so far away from home, he still finds a way to look out for you, even if he can't physically be there. “Thank you.”

He nods his head. “Let me give him a call for you. Please, be careful and keep me updated when you're somewhere safe, hon.”

Dean was currently in the middle of kicking ass in a game of pool at a bar called 'Local Waterin Hole' when he got the call from Bobby. After a long day of working out in the heat of the summer, he had needed to let off some steam with a nice cold drink. Maybe he would even meet a pretty girl while he was there. He deserved it, after putting in so many hours at the shop this past week.

Pulling his phone out the back pocket of his jeans, he sees Bobby's name light up across the screen. Bobby doesn't call him this late on a Saturday night unless it's something important. With a frown, he answers. Short and sweet, straight to the point. "You good?"

He hears Bobby chuckle on the other end. "M' alright, son. I do need to ask a favor from you, though."

Dean turns away from the pool tables and starts to head towards the door, game already forgotten. He steps out into the warm night air and responds. "Depends on what that favor is."

It really doesn't depend , because he's already starting to cross the parking lot and headed towards his work truck. There's not many favors he wouldn't do for Bobby. The old man may be ornery, but he's done a lot for Dean. More than his real father ever did.

"You remember when we restored the Impala... we got the new wheels from a guy in Kansas? I believe you've met him a few times now. He and I go way back." He mentions your fathers name and Dean cracks a grin, nodding his head. He had indeed met your father a few times. Big car guy with a good sense of humor and kind eyes.

"What about him?" He urges Bobby to continue. Once he reaches the truck, he pulls out a cigarette and takes a long, drawn out puff, mentally preparing himself for whatever this favor might be.

"Well, he's got a car broke down about an hour out from town. Says he's got precious cargo and needs a tow.... said he'd pay more, if need be. I know it's late but I don't have any other drivers out right now. Figured you wouldn't mind making a little extra money."

Dean takes another drag, mulling it over. It's late and the last thing he wants to do after a long day of working is add on another one to two hours of work. But he knows he'll do it. Because it's the right thing to do and if he doesn't, who will? Bobby? Nah, he wouldn't make the old man do that, he cared about him too much. And Bobby did have a point: Dean does not at all mind having a little extra money in his pocket.

He drops the cigarette and puts it out with the heel of his boot. "Alright, send me the location and make of the car. Good thing I'm still in the work truck and not the Impala. I'll head that way now."

He can feel Bobby's appreciation through the phone. "I knew I could always count on you, boy."

"Yeah yeah, but don't expect me to come into work on time tomorrow. I'm still gonna need my eight hours of beauty sleep after bein’ out so late."

And with that, Dean climbs into the old pickup truck and peels out of the parking lot, back to work.

Dean drove for about an hour on the backroads just outside of Sioux Falls before he finally pulled up on the old Honda accord with its hazard lights on.

Pulling off the side of the road in front of the car, he puts the truck in park and goes to hop out. Taking a few steps towards the Honda, he sees through its windshield that while the car is still running, the driver is nowhere in sight.

He swivels his head around, looking for anyone. It’s hard for him to tell though, surrounded by a long dark road and forests. The headlights from his truck and the stranded car are the only thing helping him see.

“Hellooo, anybody here?” He says, rather loudly. Thinking that the man couldn’t have gotten far. The nearest store is at least a thirty minute walk and he can’t imagine anyone abandoning their car- while it’s still running, mind you- in the middle of the night.

So Dean stands there, hands on his hips, staring at the open road, then looking back toward the car. He won't say it out loud, but he kind of hates these late night tow's. Especially right now. He can't help but think back to his past- about what horrors could be lurking in the dark. Cupping his hands around his eyes, he peers inside the window of the car and sees a big suitcase, several travel bags, and stuffed animals in the back seat. Is this the precious cargo he was told about? It just looks to him like a bunch of travel stuff. Who considers a bunch of clothes and stuffies 'precioius cargo'? He thought to himself.

Rustling sounds come from the tree line behind him, and quickly he spins around, worried that it might be some kind of animal- or worse. Now, he's really wishing his pistol wasn’t at least 10 feet away, locked up inside the glovebox of his work truck. His right hand is itching to hold some sort of self defense.

Suddenly, he sees a figure stumble out of the tree line, using what looks to be a cellphone flashlight. He instinctually takes a single step back towards the truck, inching closer to safety. "Uh... Hello?" He says, feeling uneasy.

The figure shines their phone light towards his face so he puts a hand up to block the light from nearly blind him. "Oh thank god, finally." You say, sighing in relief.

"Could you uh.... get the light out my face? Can’t see." He says, still holding his palm up awkwardly. His patience thinning by the second.

You quickly turn the light off and place the phone in your sweatshirt pocket. Giving him a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that. I've been stuck here a while and uh..... had to pee."

Now that the light wasn't there to make it so difficult to see, his eyes took a moment to adjust. He blinked up at the woman in front of him, feeling a tad bit confused. He was expecting to pick up a fifty to sixty something grown man- not the girl in front of him. You wore on a pair of black sleep shorts with pink hearts, very fuzzy pink slippers, and an oversized sweatshirt with your hair messily tucked into the collar. Cute.

She has to be, what, mid twenties? He can't help but wonder how a pretty young thing like you wound up so far from home, alone at that.

"S'no problem. Just caught me off guard. You uh... out here all by yourself? I thought I was gonna be picking up a friend of Bobby's." He mentions your dad's name.

"Yes, sir. It's just me. My dad called y'all for me since I'm not super familiar with the area. I was driving up to come spend some of the summer with my Aunt, she stays in Madison. The car kinda just..... stopped going out of nowhere."

Dean makes his way back over to his truck to quickly grab his bag of tools from the passenger floorboard. "Can you pop the hood f'me? I wanna see if it's something I can fix real quick or if I need to tow it to the shop."

You silently do as he says, sitting in the drivers seat of your car with the door open, waiting to be told what to do next.

Dean digs through his bag, then curses. He tilts his body so you can see his head from behind the car hood. "Do you mind comin' over here and bringing that light back out? Think I forgot mine at the shop."

You mumble out a 'yes sir', the politeness your parents raised you with always shining through. Closing the car door and moving to stand next to the open hood, you shine the phone light for him.

He looks down at the engine and then back up at you, a small smirk tugging at his lips. "You don't need to call me sir, by the way. Usually makes me feel old when people say that. My name's Dean."

You tell him your name with a small bashful smile again, "Sorry, force of habit."

He continues poking around in the engine, clearly knowing what to look for, then asks you what the car was doing. You recount everything that happened with the car, leading up to now.

Dean lets out a "hmmm" to himself, clearly focused on finding out the problem. You stared, admiring his side profile with only the dim phone light allowing you to see. He held his bottom lip between his teeth and his brows were scrunched together in concentration. Boy, was he a sight for sore eyes. Even in the dark of night, shadows covering half his face, you could see just how handsome he is.

He glances back up to you, green eyes catching your stare. The light you were holding wasn't even shining under the hood anymore, but towards the ground. You clear your throat, moving the light back to the car, feeling a tad flustered and very distracted.

When your dad said he had someone on the way to pick you up, you were under the impression that it would be his old friend, Bobby, whom you'd briefly met a time or two. Sometimes he and your father would attend car shows together. So needless to say that you were thoroughly (and somewhat pleasantly) surprised when a very handsome Dean Winchester came to save the day instead. Had you'd known a hunk like this would pull up, you probably would have worn something a bit more presentable. Hell, you would've at least brushed your hair or sprayed some perfume, or popped in a mint. Something, anything to not feel so out of your element right now.

Dean breaks the awkward silence first, "So I'm thinking, with what you described.... Its either a bad coil pack issue or a transmission issue." He pauses making a clicking noise with his tongue. "Which means, it'll either be a easy fix or you might need to consider a whole new transmission."

At that, your brows raise and you run your hand down the front of your face, letting out an exaggerated groan.

"This car is not worth buying a new transmission. I mean, look at it." You gesture towards the beater, lightly kicking the front tire.

He lets out a soft chuckle, "Yeah, I was gonna say it but didn't wanna come off rude. Either way, you're gonna need a tow so I can look it over at the shop. Grab the stuff you need, go ahead n' put it in the truck. I'll load your car up. There's a motel near the shop I can drop you off at."

He closes the hood of your car and watches as you grab all of your bags from the back seat, as well as a dinosaur shaped stuffed animal, which immediately falls to the ground as you adjust a tote on your shoulder. You have so much stuff that once the first thing falls, two other bags start to slide down your shoulder. You can't remember the last time you felt this flustered in front of a stranger.

Deans brows raise so high, he feels like they could be touching his hairline. "Jesus, sweetheart. Here, give me somethin' to carry."

He moves to grab your stuffy from the ground and relieving you of the bag falling from your shoulder. You feel a blush creep up your neck at the pet name.

You follow him to the passenger side of the truck, he opens the door for you.

"M'not sure if I have enough room for all these bags, hon. When I said 'stuff you need', I didn't think you'd bring everything but the kitchen sink." He smirks, looking you over as you start put all your stuff in the floorboard.

The Singer Auto Salvage work truck is clearly on the older side. You can tell by the bench seat and the worn down 8 ball gear shifter. The radio was also a clear giveaway, no bluetooth or CD player in sight, just tapes. The ceiling has some sort of.... drawing? It looks like some sort of symbol, but you can't really tell.

Pushing the thoughts of weird sigils aside, you get to work with the bags. You're practically playing a game of Tetris, trying to find a way to fit all your stuff in the small cab of the truck. You still respond to him cheerfully, "It's better to have it and not need it, than need it and not have it! I like to be prepared."

Dean shakes his head once, still standing behind you, stupidly holding the stuffed dinosaur until you're ready to take it off his hands. He watches as you stand up on your tip toes to move the bags around. His head tilts and eyes catch the hem of your shorts lifting higher up your ass as you reach up. He can feel his mouth starting to water at the sight and really wishes it wasn't so dark outside so he could see you better.

He finds himself staring until you turn around to take the stuffy from his arms. Your eyes flicker from his eyes to his mouth. He's biting his lip again.

Jesus, I need to calm down. He thinks to himself. She's way too young for you, dude.

Taking the ridiculously sized dinosaur stuffy from him, you give him a awkward toothless smile, and climb into the truck. Dean being the gentleman that he is, closes the door for you. He proceeds to take a few minutes loading your car up onto the truck before climbing in next to you. The entire passenger side floorboard has been stuffed full with your things, giving you no leg room, so you're forced to sit with your legs criss crossed. He can't help but find his eyes trailing over your smooth thighs, and it takes some serious effort to keep his eyes on the road.

The car ride is quiet for the first few minutes, apart from Metallica playing quietly on the radio, both of you not really knowing what to say. You fiddle with the dinosaur on your lap and stare out the window, even though it's too dark to really see the world beyond.

Dean is the one who breaks the silence first. One hand on the wheel, he spares a glance at you, that killer smirk tugging at one side of his mouth. "So, daddy might have to buy you a new car now, huh?"

He doesn't know why he said it. He thought it might make you laugh. He just needed to say something, anything to break the awkward silence.

You immediately whip your head to look over to him with a grimace. "Absolutely not, I can pay for my own car. I don't need daddy or any man to pay for anything." Your sweet 'yes sir' tone has completely turned to ice after that comment.

But the sound of the word 'daddy' coming from your mouth sends a wave of heat over Dean's neck.

He tries to play off the fumble and gives you nonchalant shrug, "I dunno, I just figured your dad was a car guy. He called Bobby for you and said he had 'precious cargo'" Lifting his hand to make air quotes, "Which- I now know... was referring to you. I just figured you're probably a daddy's girl or somethin'."

You scrunch your nose up at the term. Modern day media has completely ruined it for you. You haven't called your dad that since you were, like, ten years old. And while he isn't wrong- you are a daddy's girl- something about being called that just rubs you the wrong way. Makes you feel like people think you're spoiled or dependent on your father for everything.

"Don't call me that." You say, crossing your arms over your chest.

Putting on his most charismatic smile, Dean says, "Easy there, darlin'. Didn't mean to offend. Was honestly just tryin' to make conversation..... we got at least another forty minutes before I can get you to a motel."

You roll your eyes, "You afraid of silence or something?"

He scoffs incredulously. "What? No." His brows scrunch together, surprised at your accusation. "Sweetheart, it's nearly 2am and I'm just tryin' to stay awake. I don't usually take calls this late."

You stay quiet, regretting catching an attitude with him over something so small. He lets the silence linger in the air before letting out an exaggerated yawn. He sits up higher and blinks a few times to try and push away the tiredness, tapping the steering wheel along to the music.

His yawn makes you yawn. It is pretty late. And who can blame him for wanting to strike up conversation? Not only to kill the awkward quiet, which actually does bother him, but keep his energy up.

You throw him a question just to appease him, "So.... how long have you been working for Bobby?"

"Boy, is that a loaded question." He mutters.

"I'm... sorry?" You're confused by his answer.

He seems to think very carefully about what he says next. "Well... we used to work together before he opened the company. He was....hunting buddies with my dad- which is how I know him. I started working at the auto salvage about 5 or 6 years ago, now?"

"What did you do before?" You ask. The way he answered the previous question has you more and more curious about him.

"Uhh, I was big into huntin'...for work. Family business." Now he won't look away from the road.

He's very clearly dancing around the topic, for whatever reason. You don't want to push so you just say, "Okay..."

"What about you? Are you visiting for work or pleasure?" He's trying to change the subject. You don't bring any attention to it.

"Both, I guess? I just needed to get away this summer and my aunt offered a free place to stay. I'm thinking about finding something part time though, for extra spending money." You continue to rub at the eyes of your stuffy, needing to do something with your hands.

Dean notices. "Do you really sleep with that thing or?"

"Who, him?" You ask, propping the dino upright on your lap. "Yeah, I like having something to hold onto when I sleep. He's cute, right?"

He looks back over to you and grimaces. The dinosaur stuffy is tired, to say the least. The fabric looks like it's faded in color, probably much brighter when it was still new. One of the plastic eyeballs is literally hanging on by a thread and there's multiple stitching spots that he can only assume came from wear and tear.

"Ehh I wouldn't go that far.... cute ain't the word I'd use. Your boyfriend doesn't get jealous of that thing?" He asks, really just trying to know more about you. He can't help himself.

"Actually, yeah..."

Dean feels disappointment and jealousy seep through him at the thought of you having a boyfriend. Why isn't the guy here on this trip with you then? He can't help but wonder what kind of loser lets his girl go on a trip so far, driving by herself, without a reliable means of transportation. He would never.

You continue. Laughing as you recall the memory, "My ex used to get weirdly jealous about it. One time, he tried to throw this cutie away and then acted like he didn't know what I was talking about when I found him in the trash. Can you believe that?"

He cracks the biggest grin yet, stealing another glace at you from the corner of his eye. "So... no boyfriend?"

You feel the redness creeping across your cheeks at that, suddenly feeling shy. "Nope."

Dean feels his heart sore with satisfaction at the thought of you being single. An idea pops into his head.

"Ya know.... there's a diner right across from the shop that might be hiring. We get lunch there jus' about every day..... I could always put in a good word for you. And if that doesn't work out, Bobby could always use some help with the book keeping." He shrugs, trying to play it cool. Nonchalant.

"Since you mentioned needin’ a job," He adds hastily.

The last thing he wants right now is to come off too eager or interested in helping a girl clearly too young for him. Bobby would give him hell for fooling around with his friends daughter. But he can't deny- especially with you in the passenger seat, wearing those tiny shorts- that the idea is mighty tempting.

You perk up in your seat, eyes filled with excitement. "Really? That would be great, actually. Thank you."

"Of course, ‘m happy to help. Might ask you to slide me a slice of pie or two..... ya know, for repayment." He says, mostly kidding.

"If you help me find a job this summer, I'll bring you all the pie you want. It'd take a big weight off my shoulders." You say, a grateful grin taking up your entire face.

Dean looks over to you again, your dazzling smile stealing his breath. It takes all his power to pull his eyes back to the road.

Boy, is he in for it now.

gonna start working on pt. 2 tonight. y’all, i wrote a lot of this while healing from a concussion so my apologies if there’s any typos. thank you for making it this far and lmk what you think <3

v33mustdie

dean winchester my beloved

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