One Night Flame. Chapter 15.
Series Summary: Y/N is a 3rd grade teacher, who had a really bad breakup. To help cheer her up, her friends convince her to go out to a bar on a school night, something she never does now a day, and things take an unpredictable turn. The stranger she meets, and later has a one night stand with, may be harder to get rid of than she thought.
Pairing: Y/N Carter x Dean Winchester
Chapter 15: UPDATED 2/11/25
Pain. Lots and lots of pain.
I take a slow breath and weakly pat around the bed, looking for the warm body I had attached myself to for most of the night. “Dean?” I say hoarsely, but no response.
I blink away as much sleep and grogginess as I can as I turn, grunting and wincing at the ache. Once I’m on my back, I take a deep and slow breath.
“This is what Hell is. I get it now,” I grumble, and I hear a chuckle from the doorway. “Mornin’ hot stuff,” Dean says, dressed in his jeans and flannel from last night. “How you feelin’?” he asks, coming in and putting a white pastry bag and a cup of tea on the nightstand before sitting on the edge of the bed.
His arm goes over both my legs and traps me under the blanket as he sits next to me.
“I feel like some drunk idiot flung me into a bartop and bruised the shit out of my ribs…” I grumble, my hands coming up to rub my eyes. “Oh, wait,” I say sarcastically, and he laughs.
“Good to know your humor wasn’t damaged.”
“Have too much of it to cause a dent,” I say as he pulls my hands off my face and grins down at me.
“That you do,” he shifts to grab the paper bag and hands it off to me. “I got you a muffin. I wasn’t sure if you were a chocolate or blueberry person, so I got you a lemon poppyseed.” He has an eat-shit-grin on his face, and it makes me grin back. “Realistically, it was all they had left. That or a zucchini banana nut one, but I figured you’ve suffered enough.”
I shake my head as he puts the bag back up and brings his arm back.
“Dean,” I say with a short breath.
“I need to pee, but the idea of moving out of this bed sounds horrific. How do I fix that?”
I hear him chuckle as I close my eyes.
“Well, step one would be taking some meds since it’s been,” he checks the alarm clock on my nightstand. “Eight hours since your last dose. I think you’re safe for another.”
“Do you expect me to wait 45 minutes for it to kick in?”
“No, but hopefully, it makes you feel better that the pain isn’t permanent,” he says sympathetically, brushing hair out of my eyes. “On a scale of one to ten, how are we feeling? Ten being fuck you and one being, I could fuck you.”
“Thanks,” he answers smugly.
“Solid 8 right now,” I respond and move to try and get up but pause. “Help.” My plea is weak and childish as he chuckles and helps me out of bed and to the bathroom like last night.
Eventually, he helps me get situated on the couch, making it like the bed it acted as for him last night before I stole him away.
“Okay, the meds are taken. The muffin has been eaten,” he says, looking around the room, double-checking that everything is in order.
“Excellent choice,” I sigh as I adjust my blankets and settle.
“Thank you,” he acknowledges before sitting on the edge of my coffee table and facing me. “Tea is behind your head,” he points out. “And your knight and shining armor is at your beck and call. Need anything else?”
“Nope,” I grin up at him with closed eyes and a look of medical euphoria written on my face.
“Those meds are hitting pretty nice now, aren’t they?” he chuckles, moving my hair away from my face again.
“Sooooo nice,” I nod, leaning into his touch. “You’re not leaving anytime soon, right?”
“Why? You like having me around?” he teases and I give him a look that he laughs and shakes his head at. “Don’t plan on it.” His hand lingers on my cheekbone. “Rest. I’ll be around if you need me.”
When he stands, he bends down to press a kiss to my forehead and disappears into the kitchen. I’m too drugged to care what he’s doing, so I nuzzle into the couch and focus on reruns of Community he put on for me.
Knowing Y/N is going to be out cold in the next 10 minutes or so, I busy myself with cleaning her house. It’s already well organized and tidy, so there isn’t too much to do, but I do the few dishes left in the sink, make her bed, fold her clothes from the night before, and stack them on her chair by her dresser. Lastly, I straightened up her bathroom and ran a load of laundry of towels I found in a hamper.
When I come back to the living room, she’s burrowed into the pillows and blankets I surrounded her with for extra cushions. She looks like a bunny in their little hole, hiding from the world.
I sigh after lighting the candle she had on her coffee table and move to the end of the couch, gently propping her feet in my lap as I watch her.
God, last night scared the shit out of me. And angered me. And shocked me. And just downright sent me down a rabbit hole of all kinds of emotions.
It started with seeing her again after two months of it being practically radio silent on her end. Did I want to be? No. But could I tell she was embarrassed and needed some space? Yes, so I kept to just weekly messages checking in. Nothing more than a “Have a good week! Careful making Jessie any smarter. She’s almost beating me at poker now…” and things along those lines.
It’s been a hard two months not seeing her face or hearing from her. I know the last time we talked, I reinstated the boundaries she had put up, and it left things kinda awkward, but I was willing to work that out with her. I wanted to. But I knew her pride and embarrassment got the best of her, and considering our whirlwind from meeting to now, I wanted to give her the space she had made me promise to give her when I said I’d be her friend first.
But in seeing her, all done up, looking as eye-catching as always, and then a man so close to her… A man who was eyeing me in a way that I was the threat and not the other way around; it rubbed me the wrong way.
Did I puff out my chest a touch more than necessary? Yeah, but so did he.
Fast forward to the bar fight and her douche of an ex-boyfriend gambling that he wouldn’t meet God with me in the vicinity- it really made the night one to remember. I remember trying to pull out of Benny’s grasp as soon as that Nick guy ran to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Benny mumbled something about letting it go, but he was a whisper in the wind I didn’t care to listen to.
But seeing her face. Disappointment was a painful thing to swallow when she looked at me. Yet somehow, I’d do it all over again if it meant she was safe and unharmed.
Which is why I’m in talks with one of my cop buddies about getting a restraining order in line for her if she wants. I’ll wait until the drugs don’t have her mind clouded, and I can get more of a backstory on the bastard I wish I hadn’t let walk away with a complete set of teeth and an intact septum.
In my reminiscing of the night before and the terror I felt seeing her be thrown into the bar, my phone buzzes, and I fish it out of my pocket without jostling or waking her. Although her soft snore showed me, it’d take a lot more than some movement and noise to wake her up right now.
“Hey, Sammy,” I sigh, my free hand resting on the back of the couch as my eyes stay on her.
“Should we exchange pleasantries, or can I skip to ripping you a new one?” my brother says in a tone I know all too well.
“Why waste time?” I say with a smirk that I know he can hear through the phone when I hear a groan at my response.
“What the hell happened last night, Dean? Donna called me this morning and gave me a rough summary but said to call you in case you needed an attorney for assault.”
“I’ll be fine. Besides, if anyone is pushing charges, it’ll be Y/N.”
“Y/N? Y/N Carter? Why would she be pushing charges?”
“How much did Donna tell you?”
“That you and a drunk customer got into it. Someone got pushed into the bar in the mix, and you were driven to the hospital while Gabe took the other guy. She didn’t give me a ton of details; she just mainly called to say I needed to check in with you.”
Makes sense that Y/N’s name wasn’t thrown in the mix, considering Donna doesn’t know her.
I quickly go through what happened in as much detail as I can recall, and I hear a long sigh on the other end as he blows out a breath.
“Jesus… Is Y/N alright?” he asks, his anger from earlier mostly subsided now. At least with me…
“She’s suffering from some pretty nasty bruised ribs. But she avoided any kind of fracture, so it’ll be a few weeks of pain meds and taking it easy. I’ll make sure she doesn’t over-extend herself,” I smile softly as I gaze over her soft figure.
There’s a pause on the other end I don’t notice as I focus on her shifting a touch for a better position.
“You’re with her right now, aren’t you?”
“Huh?” I don’t know what he’s saying cause I’m busying myself fixing her blanket as she settles again.
“That answers my question…” is mumbled on the other end. He sighs again. “Well, is there anything you need from me? You’re all good?”
“I’ve gotten worse on the job. Nothing but a scratch.” And to me, it really was. I was more worried about Y/N’s injury and how she’d manage over her Christmas break. Which, speaking of… “I guess it’s a good thing she’s got the next two and a half weeks off.”
“Yeah, but I’m sure she didn’t plan on spending it healing on her couch for the most part of it.”
“Which is why I’m going to be here to help her out.”
“Dean…” he drags out, and I can hear what he’s actually saying in his tone alone.
“Sam. I know what I’m doing. Don’t forget who the older sibling is here.”
“Yeah, but sometimes you don’t act like it. And sometimes is being nice.”
“What?” I groan, slouching into the couch and throwing my head back.
“Just do me a favor… Don’t do anything stupid, please? I don’t want to have to find another teacher for Jessie because you can’t keep it in your pants.”
“I’m not a fuckboy, Sam. And I’m also not an idiot. Goodbye.”
Before he could continue to berate me on how little faith he had in me, I hung up and ran a hand down my face before rolling my head to the side and seeing her take a deep breath. The slightest grimace flits across her features, and my hand gives a small squeeze to her foot. The grimace melts, and she’s back to resting soundly.
“Dear God, what are you doing to me woman?…” The question is more for me than anyone else.
Because why the hell am I so enamored with her? I’ve always been a protective and pretty passionate guy for a lot of things in my life, but to have it shift to a woman in this manner? It’s different. Different, like I’d jump off a cliff with no hesitation if it meant she was safe. If she were in a burning building and there were seconds before it collapsed, I’d run in anyway and risk dying just to know she’s not alone.
I’m not sure what to do with that.
Sammy was always the one I knew would settle down and have a family, giving my parents a grandkid they’ve always wanted and adore and love. I guess I never looked past my bachelor years to even have an idea of what I wanted when I was ready to settle. No one has made me want to think past it.
But her? The sweet, sassy, selfless, intelligent, compassionate, stunning, and goddamn addicting woman in front of me has me feeling all kinds of things I haven’t ever felt stir in me before.
It started as a chase. It started with a challenge I couldn’t refuse, and then seeing her that next morning corralling a group of 3rd graders did something to me. Let’s be real; a teacher is to a man, as a firefighter is to a woman. Hot as hell.
But add in her qualities, and she’s someone people would be stupid to not fawn over. And for the most part, I’m anything but stupid. For the most part…
I fall asleep in the next ten minutes, exhausted from last night and still slightly sore from the whole ordeal. When I stir, blinking away sleep, I turn and see a buried mess of blankets empty.
I sit up a little straighter and look around, rubbing my eyes. “Y/N?” No answer. “Y/N?” I stand up and almost stumble on a pillow on the ground but catch myself on the wingback chair. “Y/N!”
I hear a toilet flush, and my body relaxes when the faucet turns on. I walk down the hall and stand outside, waiting for the door to open, and when I do, a messy-haired, irritated, and groaning Y/N walks out in a shuffle.
“Bathroom breaks are not for the weak,” she says and shuffles extremely slowly back down the hall to the living room.
“They can be quite the task in your condition, I’m sure,” I chuckle, offering my arm for support, and she takes it without a second thought and leans her head on my shoulder as she walks.
“Tired still?” I ask, patting her hand on my bicep before easing her back to her bunny burrow.
“Yes, but nauseous more than anything.”
I checked the meds bottle I had organized on the coffee table and saw one of the common side effects, which is exactly that.
“They should have prescribed nausea med that’ll help counter that, but…” I look through the three different meds they have her on, but none of them show they help for that. “Damn.”
“I’ll be okay,” she waves off weakly as she gets comfortable again, laying on her side and throwing her leg over the body pillow, keeping her from falling off the edge of the couch.
“Feeling loopy at all?” I ask, sitting on the coffee table and bending with my elbows on my knees as I watch her. She shakes her head. “Need anything right now?” She shakes her head again but, this time, peeks an eye at me before a flush comes over her cheeks. “What?” I grin, loving, making her flustered even if I don’t know how exactly I did it.
“Can you…” she starts but stops, debating on her words. Adorable.
“Can I what, sweetheart?”
“Can you play with my hair? It helps me focus on something else besides the pain and nausea,” she finally asks, and her shoulders are almost to her ears with how scrunched up she is.
“You know, you’re not so big, bad, and scary like this. It’s a fun change,” I tease as I move to sit where her head is and rest it in my lap. She grumbles something in the process, and I poke her cheek. “Wanna share with the class, Teach?”
“I’d get suspended in this scenerio if I shared with the class,” she replies, swatting my hand.
“Naughty, naughty,” I shake my head, laughing under my breath. She gives me a glare, but it slowly disappears once my hands are in her hair and she relaxes.
A few minutes pass, the muffled sound of the TV playing as I look down at her in my lap, gently caress her hair, and study her features from the new angle. I see her breathing steady and can tell she’s comfortable, and I’m happy to be the reason for it.
“Y/N…” I say in a hushed whisper.
“Can I…” God, I can’t believe I’m going to do this, but I need to put my cards out on the table. I need to say what I’ve been feeling. I can’t risk her moving on with another man when the two months away were excruciating for me, not being around her and not knowing what was going on in her life. She hums again, coercing me to continue. “I know it’s probably not the ideal time, but I can’t let this keep eating at me.”
Her eyes flutter open, and she looks up at me with those damn bright eyes, confused, nervous, yet calm. Fuck me…
“Dean-” she starts when she sees me freeze.
“I think I’m falling for you.”
Her eyes go wide as if the medicine-induced comma she was originally in just sobered up.
“I’m falling for you, and I’m not regretful in admitting it,” I say, my hands still brushing her hair and ghosting over her temple and cheek. The only thing staying steady besides the racing fear in my heart. “You deserve to know what I’m feeling and what you’re doing to me.”
“I-I,” she stutters out weakly for a second but brings her hands up to cover her face, the blush creeping along her smooth skin.
“Hey,” I whisper, removing her hands gently and holding them in my hand as I look down at her. “You don’t have to respond to it. You don’t even have to acknowledge it yet if you aren’t ready. But I just… I needed to get that out on the table.” I smile as she blinks up at me. The confession getting easier to share now that it’s out there. “I’m falling hard for you, and I can say confidently that it doesn’t scare me.”
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