#her lore is that after she switched careers she was like ''i wonder what else i assumed to be true actually isn't'' and lo and behold

[millidew]

i fw this heavily

[jayankles]

Death Brings Truth (AU)

Pairing: Teacher!Dean x Student!Reader

Word Count: 2254

Warnings: character death, lies, language.

Summary: Dean is a professor at the local school in Lebanon, Kansas. Everything is going smoothly until one of students displays a whole side of herself that he has never seen before. Is she willing to divulge the information to her teacher? Can she cope with the responsibility that has been dumped on her?

Written for @spnangstbingo and @evansrogerskitten ‘s Ash’s Hottest Dean Challenge

Square Filled: Free Space

A/N – I picked Scruffy!Dean and I couldn’t have been more happy about the prompts that were given to me. I have been planning this fic for a while but never got around to it and it’s not like the Student/Teacher pairing that you are used to. Prompt: “Well, that’s fantastic. Would you like a stuffed bear?” and the gif below the cut

A/N 2 – Also I am so sorry this is late I don’t know what went wrong, this was supposed to post yesterday but tumblr is an ass and didn’t post it, sorry Ash!

Professor Winchester was sat at his desk behind his laptop, pen in hand going through his schedule and what he was going to teach today. It was the usual for the two of you. You would walk in with twenty minutes to spare so you could get ahead in the class, write a few notes and if the professor was in the mood to talk then you would ask him whether he had a good weekend or not.

The class filed in a few minutes before the bell and they had all settled into their seats and the professor began to teach about the lore of mythical creatures. Sometimes he spoke with such passion about it that you actually believed that the creatures he spoke about could be real.

Notes were taken but your eyes hovered from Professor Winchester to the board he was pointing at behind him. His arms waved around frantically, they always did that when he spoke to the class in front of him and the animated smile on his face told everyone that he was happy to be here, that he worked his ass off to make sure that every single one of his students were involved in the session and were up to date with the course.

Professor Winchester had finished the class, earlier than usual, telling everyone that they had an assignment to do. It would be a project with all the details emailed to each individual, also given the opportunity to work in a group or by themselves. He made it abundantly clear that they were due in a month and that it was essential to complete this project to pass this year.

You nodded as you wrote everything he said, highlighting and drawing an asterisk next to the ideas that you were thinking of writing up for the project.

The rest of the class had left, a few of the girls giggling as they got into a group and admired your professor. You understood the fascination, Professor Winchester was attractive of course, his eyes were the most gorgeous shade of green, his short sandy brown hair was always perfectly spiked up, he had let his stubble grow into a coarse beard and his arms had bulked out his dress shirt. He was a fine looking man, you couldn’t deny that, but none of it mattered, you had to think about your work and nothing else.

Writing up the final due date, you put in your bookmark and shut your notepad. Shoving your equipment in your rucksack, you zipped it up and flung it over your shoulder. Professor Winchester neatening up his papers before he slotted them into his briefcase.

‘See you next week, Miss Y/L/N. 20 minutes before class?’ Winchester asked with a teasing smirk on his face.

‘Sure thing, Professor Winchester.’ You nodded in return, adjusting the straps on your bag.

He scoffed, loosening his tie and pulling on his suit jacket and coat. He was done for the day. ‘Please, Miss Y/L/N, call me Dean. The rest of the class do, makes me feel like my father too.’

‘I’ll only call you Dean, if you call me Y/N.’ You held out your hand for him to shake. He nodded his head and recited your name back to you whilst you did the same.

Three weeks later

Dean had noticed that something was wrong as soon as the class as started. You hadn’t walked in twenty minutes earlier like you usually did, there was no email to say that you were elsewhere or couldn’t make today’s session, he was starting to worry to say the least. The front row was empty – the place where you had frequently occupied to see a little better – not a single thing clued him in as to where you were.

Forty five minutes into the class, the door had bashed against the wall and interrupted Dean when he was talking.

This was someone he had never seen before but was all too familiar to him.

It was you!

Dean’s arms were crossed over his chest as he waited for an explanation but you wasn’t concentrating on him, your eyes were on your phone, you didn’t even have your rucksack and your usual attire was completely out of the question. Anything Dean had previously knew about you was no more, it was as if someone had created a clone of you but switched on the evil twin lever. It was a complete 180 from what he was used to.

The tapping of his foot became evident and he flicked his wrist so he could check the time. ‘Miss Y/L/N!’

You finished off your text and popped a bubble with the gun you chewed on. ‘Aw, Dean. What happened to “Y/N”?

‘You are late by forty five minutes, do you have anything you have to say for yourself.’

‘I do in fact, Dean. I say well, that’s fantastic. Would you like a stuffed bear? It’s, honestly, a wonder that you can tell the time.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Would you like me to say it slower so that you can comprehend what I’m saying?’

‘I understand perfectly! Take a seat and we will discuss this matter after class.’ Rolling your eyes you waltzed to the back and kept your eyes on the phone, seeking a seat far away from everyone else in the class that was stunned that you spoke out of line to one of the best teachers in the whole school.

‘Assignments are due next week people!’ Dean had said when he finished up the class. ‘Class dismissed.’

You were already up and out of your seat, no hanging around today.

‘Miss Y/L/N, where do you think you’re going? We have to discuss your behaviour.’

‘You dismissed the class so I'm leaving. Buh bye.’

Dean was getting even more frustrated by the minute, he has never been so disrespected in his entire career. ‘No Y/N, you will stop and you will listen to me.’ He was seeing too much red to see you flinch. ‘I don't know what is going on but you need to snap out of it.’

You furiously wiped at the tears that hadn't fallen yet. ‘You're right, Dean. You don't know what's going on. So back the fuck off, and stay out of my business because you don't know shit.’ Your phone pinged again and you glanced at it. ‘I'm sorry, Professor Winchester, I have to go.’

Dean had completed his day but his mood was dampened, he tried to not let it get to him but it had affected him. He had to figure out what was wrong and see if he could fix the problem. He slid into his car and the rumble of his car had started to settle in his churning stomach.

The tunes in the impala played lowly, but Dean was in a world of his own so the ride back to the apartment he shared with his brother. Thankfully, though, the apartment was empty and Sam hadn’t come home.

Dean placed his briefcase on the table before he shucked off his coat and suit jacket, rolling his sleeves up again. After he had huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose, Dean tugged open the fridge, pulled out a beer and twisted off the cap.

While he sipped at his beer, he took out his laptop and sat on his bed, his legs stretched out with his ankles crossed over each other.

Dean hadn't even noticed the door had opened until Sam had tossed his keys into the bowl next to the door.

‘How long have you been on that thing?’ Sam asked as he closed the door behind him, going straight to the kitchen to reheat his leftovers from the night before. When Sam didn't hear a response, he walked over an shut the lid of the laptop, only then gaining Dean’s full attention.

‘What is wrong with you, Dean?’

‘One of the kids today. She’s - something’s just not right. She’s talking back and she was late, she’s one of those kids that is never late, always early.’

‘Was is Y/N Y/L/N by any chance?’ Sam inquired, loosening his own tie and retreated back to the microwave to retrieve his dinner.

The older Winchester’s eyebrows had furrowed, how could Sam had possibly known. ‘What the hell?!’

‘What?’

‘How the heck did you know that it was Y/N?’

Sam had spooned some of the leftover Chinese from last night, quickly chewing on it and gulping it down before he responded to Dean. ‘Because she didn’t show up this morning and when I tried to talk to her after your class she just brushed me off as if she didn’t hear me but I could tell she’d been crying when she was on the phone.’

‘There is something going on with her and we’ve gotta fix it.’

Dean had emailed you for an appointment saying that your attendance and punctuation was imperative. You had rolled your eyes after reading it, of course he would make you come in the next day to have a discussion. You were tempted to email back and say you were sick but you knew he wouldn't buy into it.

You would have to finish your jobs as quickly as you could so you could make it to the appointment. It would have to be in and out. There was no time to waste.

Driving as quickly as you could, you found a parking space with difficulty but it was there in the end.

Checking your watch, you saw that you were early, thankfully. You couldn't lose any more time.

Venturing through the hallways, you scurried into the classroom through the open door, seeing the professor with his arms crossed over as he leaned against the desk. As soon as you saw the stern look on his face, you put on the other persona, your face immediately changed from strong to weak as the door slammed behind you. You whimpered, your whole body wincing and ducking.

It wasn’t until you felt a hand on your shoulder - one that wasn’t Dean’s (you knew for sure that it wasn’t - when you felt the hand you had choked out, ‘please don’t kill me. Please.’

Sam had instantly retracted his hand from your shoulder and took a few steps back stunned that you could accuse him of being a murderer.

Dean had dropped the tough guy act, much like you did, he came rushing over but at the same time he was cautious of his motions.

He had calmly spoke first, gaining your attention and your trust. ‘I’m sorry we scared you. It’s only Sam. He’s not here to kill you, okay? We’re here to help you, to see what’s goin’ on with you.’

‘Please don't make me relive it. I ca- I can't do it.’ You were beginning to become breathless, one of your hands had come to rest on your chest and the other hand hadn't decided between your own chest and Dean's arm. Dean had decided for you though, grabbing the hesitating hand and wrapping your shaking fingers around his wrist so you could feel the thrumming of his pulse against your fingertips.

After an hour of Sam and Dean trying their best to calm you. You had no more tears to weep. All the evidence of your pain had run down your cheeks to create the wet tracks that you could no longer hide. You could no longer hide your secret, not from the professors that you could trust, not from the people that had shown their true colours of caring. The Winchester Professors were there to help you, you had to tell them.

Sam had guided you to a seat, so that the three of you were no longer on the floor where you had collapsed.

They had be patient and given you your space but it was time to open up to them about what had been troubling you.

‘When I was a kid, my father was a police officer that was shot in a line of duty. It was just me, my mom and my baby brother. We thought it was over, we thought we were safe but my mom got a call a few days ago.’ You wiped away at another tear that had fallen, gulping before you proceeded. ‘She was told that the people who killed my dad had escaped prison and were after her. She didn’t tell us that my dad was a crooked cop and had killed three people that didn’t deserve to die. The guy that had broke into our home was family to the people that my dad had killed. Right before he shot my mom he told me and my brother that she was in on it, that my mom was the one that organised the shooting. He said that he would let me and my brother live because we didn’t do anything but sometimes I wish he did. I’m scared that he’ll come back and take my brother away from me and I can’t lose him. He’s all I’ve got.’

Sam and Dean sat with their mouths hung open and their hearts in their throats after it climbed its way up. They had to do something, and whatever it was, it felt as if they were raised into the live of helping others and that was exactly what they were going to do with you and your younger brother.

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