Part Tags: angst, mentions of sex, being used for sex, hints of foreboding, fluff, romance, heart to heart
Part WC: 2753
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Your POV
You’re still thinking about your date with Dean as you sit yourself down at your dressing table in front of your vanity, reaching for your hairbrush to detangle your freshly washed hair. You sigh heavily, wondering if he’ll get bored of you soon enough, and knowing there’s only so many times you can expect him to be a perfect gentleman before he gets bored and finds a girl who isn’t an idiot and will fuck him on the first date. But you’d promised yourself this time it would be different. This time, the guy you date will be different, and the only way to ensure that is to make him wait.
You think about that drunk guy you’d walked past who clearly recognised you, and you smile softly when you remember Dean moving to your other side to protect you from him. You remember Dean brushing it off as just a drunk man trying to hit on an attractive woman, and how he didn’t seem to bat an eye at any of the other men whose attention you’d grabbed that night or the two dates before that, either. Either you’ve been extremely lucky and Dean extremely naive, or he knows your little secret, and he’s just biding his time.
In fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if the guy that works for him at his workshop – Justin you think you remember him saying – hasn’t pieced it together yet. Maybe Justin being a bit too friendly with a few too many women has been your saving grace this time. But it’s only a matter of time now. Dean’s going to find out eventually, and you’d rather that come from you. So maybe it’s time to come clean, and show him the side of you that you wish you didn’t have to.
Your phone ringing cuts through the silence of the room and the noise of your mind, and you realise that you’ve only been brushing one section of your hair the entire time you’d been in thought. Clearing your throat, you put your brush down and grab your cell, sighing slightly at the name that’s flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Dick, what’s up?” you ask, trying to sound more enthusiastic than you are.
“Hey baby,” he practically cheers down the phone in his usual over enthusiastic patronising tone he always speaks to you in. “Listen, sweetheart, it’s been three days, pressure’s on to take this job.”
You sigh heavily at the very reminder. You’d been so caught up in Dean recently, you’d actually forgotten about that.
“C’mon, baby, you know the deal. You refuse this and the company won’t hire you again, that’s half your work gone,” he tries to push.
“Dick, c’mon, you know I don’t like that guy,” you remind him, playing with a loose strand of cotton on your bathrobe.
“We’ve all gotta do jobs we don’t like doing, Y/N,” Dick replies a lot more bluntly this time.
“Dick,” you try to reason, already getting frustrated. “You know what he’s like… you’re meant to be looking out for me, not pushing me to work with assholes like that.”
“No, I’m meant to be getting you work, but I can’t fuckin’ do that if you’re turning down scenes left, right and centre. This affects my pay too, y’know,” he huffs. “Just be a big girl, suck it up and do one fuckin’ scene with the guy, okay?”
You purse your lips, not wanting to give in or even compromise, but you know that Dick is right. If you turn down this scene, then the company is less likely to book you for other scenes, and then you’ll barely have any work or money.
“Fine, but I want them to be clear on my limits list, okay?” you press, waiting desperately for Dick’s confirmation.
“Sure, I’ll make sure they get it. I’ll send you the details for the shoot in the morning, get some rest.”
You roll your eyes knowing he can’t see it and hang up, throwing your phone back down onto the dresser clumsily as you clench your jaw and try to calm yourself back down. Once again you focus on brushing your hair, moving on to applying your skin care as you try to distract yourself with thoughts about Dean once again. But it’s no use, Dick has officially put you in a bad mood, and the thought of your new upcoming job is keeping you on edge.
Your phone once again begins to ring, and you’re just annoyed enough that you snatch it up without looking at the screen first.
“What?” you bark down it.
“Oh hey, urm, sorry, is this a bad time?”
Instantly you relax a little upon hearing Dean’s voice on the other end, and you take a deep breath and pinch the bridge of your nose to relieve some of the tension there.
“Sorry, I thought you were someone else, what’s up?” you pry softly, trying to remain calm.
“I urm… I know it’s late, but I was hoping we could meet up and talk?” he asks awkwardly.
“Dean, it’s almost midnight, we were together like two hours ago, what’s going on?”
“I just really think we should talk about something,” he tries again.
Your mind is too much of a mess to figure out just what Dean might be talking about. Maybe he’s hoping a late night call will change your mind about not fucking him on third date. Maybe he’s finally ready to admit he knows your secret. Maybe there’s something else entirely, but either way, now you’re intrigued, and it’s certainly taking your mind off of Dick and your new job.
“I don’t wanna get dressed up again,” you argue with a sigh. “Look, just come to my place, I’ll text you the address.”
You figure your apartment is the best place to be. You can throw him out if the conversation doesn’t go the way you want it to, and it means you don’t have to make too much effort to get ready and go out at this hour. Though as you hang up, you realise you should at least put some clothes on under your robe, and maybe a touch of make up. The guy has never seen you not dressed up for a date, so he doesn’t need that shock at midnight.
You text him your address as promised and settle for putting on some simple sleep shorts and tank top under your robe, hoping if you look ready for bed, he won’t take too long and will leave again once he’s said whatever it is that’s so important. Pouring yourself a large glass of wine, you figure you’ll need it as you try your best to relax on the couch and await Dean’s arrival, wondering just what the hell he might want to talk about.
As you sit and watch Dean bouncing his leg and looking around your apartment for what might be the hundredth time, you consider breaking the silence yourself, starting to get a little irritated that he hasn’t just spat it out already.
“Really is a nice place,” he compliments for the fourth or fifth time; you’ve lost count now. “Much nicer than my apartment. Urm… what do you do again to afford something like this?”
As soon as Dean braves looking you in the eye after his bold question, you know exactly why he’s here and take a deep breath.
“I think you know,” you reply softly, your heart beginning to thud just a little bit harder as your mind now begins to race, coming up with all the different ways this could go from here. You’re more disappointed than you thought you’d be at the prospect of Dean being just another guy that’s discovered your secret and wants personal gain from it.
“I might’ve found out,” he confesses, clearing his throat and looking away as a blush begins to stain his cheeks.
“And?” you prompt, not able to tell from just looking at him exactly how he feels about it. You’re still not even sure how long he’s known.
“And I figured we should talk about it,” Dean counters. “Can I– Can I get a beer or something, my mouth is like… really dry,” he starts to fluster.
“Sure,” you nod softly, getting up to head over to the fridge in the kitchen, glancing back over your shoulder as you watch him bouncing his leg even more violently than he had been.
Clearly the guy is nervous about the whole thing, but he must realise he’s got the upper hand here, right? You’re the one that’s been caught out in a lie here – Not a lie, just a half truth, you remind yourself as you twist off the caps of both beers and make your way back over to the couch. You hand him his beer and smile nervously at him, before sitting back down, telling yourself that you didn’t exactly lie at any point about what you do for a living.
You’d gotten good at avoiding the subject over time, and that didn’t change on your dates with Dean. You’d let him talk about his garage and fixing cars, and then distract him with more questions about himself before he could ask you what you do in return. And it’s not like you wouldn’t have ever told him. If things were going to start looking like they were getting more serious, you’d have come clean eventually. It’s just not exactly a good first date conversation, and you wanted to be sure that he actually liked you and not just the thought of you.
“So how long have you known?” you pry, focusing on playing with the edge of the sticker on your bottle.
“I found out tonight, after our date,” he confesses.
“Was it that guy that recognised me?” you wonder, wanting to know just how you’d given it away.
“No, but that and the guy walking into the door does make a lot more sense now…” he half laughs, though you can tell he doesn’t actually find it all that funny, so you’re not off the hook just yet. “I urm… well, I was kinda gonna… y’know… blow off some steam, and I accidentally found you.”
Dean’s cheeks only turn darker yet, and you almost find it cute that he’d be so embarrassed about that given what you’re talking about and who he’s talking to.
“I see,” you nod, finally understanding. You’re not exactly one of the big names, so you realised the chances of him finding you accidentally were slim, but not impossible, and if he really had no idea who you were before that, maybe this is some cruel twist of fate that he’s found out this way. “So, let me guess,” you sigh, sitting up a little straighter. “You found out what I do for a living and now you’re wondering why a professional slut wouldn’t even put out for you on the third date?”
You realise that your accusation is a little crass and a whole lot unfair, but you’ve been down this road with guys before. As soon as they’ve found out about your job, they’ve changed. As much as you’d like Dean to be the exception, you’re not holding your breath that he will be. You bravely look him right in the eyes when he doesn’t immediately answer, noticing them widen at your question as he instantly shakes his head.
“That’s not why I’m here,” he tries to defend.
“It’s fine, Dean, you don’t have to pretend to be some Prince Charming, I’ve been here before.” You don’t even mean for your tone to be so aggressive, but it is, and you start to realise just how angry you are to be in this position yet again. Maybe you should give up on dating altogether, just accept that men only want one thing from you. At least then you can’t be disappointed.
“What?” Dean frowns, his own voice starting to raise, his tone hardening just a little. “I never said–” he cuts himself off. “Hang on, why are you the one that’s pissed with me? I’m the one that just found out that the girl I’m dating fucks men on camera for the whole world to see and she didn’t even tell me!”
“But she won’t fuck you, right? That’s what’s bothering you about all this?” you argue back. “You know what, Dean? Fine, I’ll fuck you, let you have something to brag to all your little friends about, but don’t expect a fourth date after this.”
You rise to your feet and pull the tie on your robe, letting it hang loose to expose your pyjamas underneath, and Dean also rises to his feet, now frowning even deeper than before.
“No, that’s not why I’m here,” he insists once more. “Does it hurt my ego a little that you didn’t wanna sleep with me? Sure, but I’m a big boy, Y/N, I got over it pretty damn quick. What bothers me, is that you weren’t just honest about it,” he retorts.
“Can you blame me, Dean?” you implore, feeling pent up frustration turning into something else – something sad and heavy in your chest. “This happens every time. In fact, I don’t know why I’ve not learned my lesson yet, maybe this is all my fault, after all.”
“What happens, Y/N?” Dean presses, frustrated. “A guy gets upset because you lied to him?”
“No, a guy I’m dating finds out what I do, and suddenly that’s all he sees… and it’s all he wants from me.”
Dean opens his mouth, but no sound comes out yet. He shuts it again and takes a deep breath, looking down at the beer bottle in his hand before gently placing it down on the coffee table. He steps closer, and bites down on his plump bottom lip for a moment before opening his mouth and trying again.
“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t think about it like that,” he confesses with another blush. “I guess I was hurt that I’ve been nothing but honest with you, and I thought you’d been the same. I’m not used to dating like this, Y/N. I’m normally the asshole that only wants one thing, but you’re different, and I like you… and I’m not just saying that because I know what you do now. If we’re being completely honest, normally I wouldn’t even have the patience to make it to a third date.”
You giggle slightly at his brutal honesty, appreciating it far more than all those guys that just pretend to be different to the rest but really only want one thing. And there’s a sincerity about him that makes you believe him when he says he really didn’t know before tonight, and that he really did like you even before he found out.
“I get it now,” he reassures you, stepping closer again. “You didn’t want me to be like them… and I won’t be… not with you.”
“Please don’t be,” you beg him quietly, not even thinking about just how fragile and vulnerable it makes you to ask something like that of him.
“I promise I like you for you, Y/N,” he confirms, “or I wouldn’t be thinking about a fourth date, or how much I wanna kiss you right now and then go straight home afterwards, just so I can prove to you that I’m different.”
“So my job doesn’t bother you?” you check, feeling your own cheeks heat up.
“I mean… I’d rather my girlfriend didn’t show everything she owns on camera while sleeping with other men, but… I’m also not going to be the guy that tells you to change for me.”
“Hang on, girlfriend?” you smirk. “Slow down there, dude, we’ve only been on three dates.”
Dean instantly blushes violently. “I should go, I’m not used to this kind of rom com crap, I’m trying to be cute, but it’s clearly not working,” he complains, clearly embarrassed.
You laugh softly as you reach out and grab his wrist to stop him from turning away and heading towards the door.
“You should at least give me that kiss you’ve been thinking about,” you tell him with a gentle smirk, biting down on your bottom lip as a smile begins to flitter over his lips.
“Are you sure? It’s pretty passionate,” he tries to tease back, clearly getting his confidence back just a little.
“I think I can handle it, it’s you that you should be worrying about,” you counter, leaning your face closer to his with a quiet giggle.
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