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spnhunter4life · 3 months

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Winchester's Girl

A Dean hockey AU. I went to a game with my coworkers last night and came up with this idea. However, since I have neither the motivation nor the knowledge of the sport to write out a full-fledged fic for this, have a bullet pointed summary of what I came up with. (What would this be called? An imagine maybe? I feel like I've seen posts similar to this called imagines.)

A/N: Ok, so this turned out to be longer than I anticipated (imagine that). This is a bit more actual story and less summary than I expected when I started this. I still think it fits better in this format though, because it's easier to skip around where I want and not put the effort into combining it all together somehow. Also, just a heads up, this is tagged friends to lovers because I think that's the best way to describe it. I also think the lovers part tends to imply that there will be smut, but that is not the case here.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

You and Dean have been friends for so long, you can barely even remember life without him. You met in eighth grade when your family moved to Kansas and immediately clicked. You had a lot in common, but you especially bonded over your shared love of hockey. You were there to be proud and support him as he transitioned from the local high school team to the college team, and then again when he made it to a professional team. Nothing made you more proud or excited than hearing that he had become center for the Kansas Hunters.

All the guys on the team knew you. You were even pretty good friends with a few of them. Since you attended more of his games than you might care to admit and had even been known to attend a practice or two if you and Dean had plans after, the rest of the guys jokingly referred to you as Winchester's girl.

"Hey, Winchester! Your girl is here!" They would call out to him when they spotted you entering the building on practice days. It was Benny who said it the first time, and it just sort of caught on from there.

"Who is that girl?" Cas's new girlfriend asked one night, spotting you at a party following a big win. "I think I've seen her at every single one of your games." Cas barely even needed to glance in your direction to know who she was talking about. "Who, Y/n? That's just Winchester's girl."

A couple years ago, during the off season, Dean decided it was time to take you skating. Despite being a lifelong hockey fan, you'd never actually learned to skate. You were a little nervous about falling over a lot and making a fool out of yourself, but mostly you were excited. You loved watching Dean on the ice, the speed and ease with which he moved. It was like he was flying. You wanted to be able to experience that freedom for yourself.

Despite his laughter and teasing -- "How can someone who spends so much time at a hockey rink be so terrible at skating?" -- he was a very good teacher. He had endless patience and was familiar with the way you learned which made it easy for him to pass on the secret knowledge of how to balance on two blades in a way you quickly understood.

By the end of the first lesson, you were a little bruised from falling so many times but had also figured out how to stay upright and move around. And if you were still moving at a snail's pace as you got used to things while Dean zoomed by you, at least you were on your feet.

You and Dean have this years-long running bet of sorts. It started in high school when the two of you were in chorus together, you because you enjoyed it and wanted to be and Dean because he had to in order to get his fine arts credit -- although you suspect that no matter how much he denies it, there was a small part of him that enjoyed it. Your teacher had a requirement that at the local band/chorus contest, everyone must participate in at least one small group piece on top of the pieces you sang as a full choir. Dean pestered you for days before you finally agreed to do a duet with him. "But," you told him, "only if you score a goal within the first three minutes of the game tonight." You weren't sure why you decided to make him work for it instead of just agreeing. After all, you knew he was a decent singer and would make a good duet partner. Not to mention you enjoyed spending time with him, so working on a song together wouldn't exactly be a hardship. But you'd already offered the deal and weren't about to take it back. Of course Dean's eyes lit up at the challenge and he immediately agreed. That night, just over two minutes into the game he scored a goal. He immediately looked up, finding you in the crowd quickly since you tended to sit in the same place, and winked at you. You knew it was his way of gloating in the couple seconds he had available to do so, and you rolled your eyes at him but couldn't contain your smile.

After that it became a thing. If there was something Dean wanted from you -- something he wanted help with or something he wanted to do that he knew you'd enjoy but you were a little hesitant about (like going to homecoming with him) -- he'd use the "if I score a goal in under three minutes" challenge as a way to get it.

After a while, it evolved into more of a silly game. It became an almost every game occurrence. He still brought up big things once in a while -- "if I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to go talk to that cute guy from the library you won't shut up about" -- but it was mostly little stuff. "If I score in under three minutes tonight, I get to pick the movie we watch this weekend; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you're buying me a pizza; If I score in under three minutes tonight, you have to come with me to the show my friend and his horrible band are putting on. If I have to suffer through it, so do you."

You suspected that he liked the challenge of it, that he wanted to give himself a reason to really work hard. While he definitely wasn't managing to score in time every night, he managed it enough to gain a reputation for himself as an early game scorer. "Watch out for Winchester in those first few minutes of the game," you'd heard people say. "If he gets anywhere near your goal, he will score."

Just like the first time, if he won the challenge, he would find you in the stands and wink at you. In the college years, this led to the more intense fans -- particularly the young women who knew what he looked like beneath the helmet -- to speculate who he might be winking at and why. In the last couple years with the Hunters, it led to even more teasing from the guys about you being Winchester's girl.

It has been a brutal game against the Hunters' biggest rival the Leviathans. More fights have broken out than you've seen in probably the last three or four games combined. One of the Leviathans' defenders broke his wrist in the first period. The score has been neck and neck, neither team able to gain a lasting advantage over the other. There is about a minute and a half left in the game when Dean scores a goal, putting the Hunters two points ahead, the biggest gap of the whole game. The crowd cheers, none of them louder than you, you're sure.

It happens in the middle of the next play. One second Dean is flying down the ice, all fire and determination. The next, there's a collision of bodies. You don't think anything of it. It happens all the time. Until three of the bodies pull back and the fourth is left lying on the ice. You can't do anything but stare as the big black 67 of Dean's jersey stares back. Fear holds you prisoner and you can't move, watching helplessly as the coach steps onto the ice, followed soon after by an EMT. He manages to find his feet and is escorted slowly off the ice. You're on your feet in an instant, heading for the locker room where you know he'll be looked at.

You pace back and forth outside the locker room, not daring to actually go in. You know you're not allowed. So you pace, biting your fingernails as you listen to the final moments of the game and wait for some sort of news on Dean. The buzzer sounds, signaling the end of the game, and you know it's only a matter of time before the rest of the team is here. Maybe then you'll get some answers.

"What are you doing back here?" A hard voice demands. You look over to see the Leviathans' coach staring you down. He must have been passing by on the way to the other locker room. "You shouldn't be here," he says, not giving you time to answer.

"I know, but-"

"Get out of here," he demands. You know he's doing the right thing. He's probably dealt with overzealous fans before that wait for players outside the locker rooms and is only defending the privacy of the opposing team. But you don't appreciate his tone, especially given the circumstances.

"She's fine," a second voice says before you can answer. You look over the coach's shoulder to see Cas standing there, the rest of the team behind him. None of them look happy.

"Novak," the coach says. "I was just trying to make sure you weren't bothered. Fans shouldn't be back here."

"You're right, they shouldn't," Benny agrees. "But that's Winchester's girl. If she wants to be here, she has every right." The nickname that at first made you blush and now makes you roll your eyes never sounded so good. It's like a badge of honor. In a way, the team sees you as family. They will defend you and let people know you belong here with them. With Dean. The coach backs off.

"Just tell me how he is," you ask, turning to Benny and Cas with pleading eyes. Of course they don't have any more idea than you do, but you just want them to go in, assess the situation, and come back to tell you what's going on.

"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" Benny answers. You look at him in surprise. "I can't go in there," you tell him.

"Sure you can," Kevin disagrees. "Nobody's undressed in there. You can be in and out before we've got our pads off." You wait for only a second to see if anyone will protest and when they don't, you rush inside. Your eyes zero in on Dean immediately, sitting on a bench and talking with the EMT, who turns his head at the sound of the door opening. A look of surprise crosses his face and he stands up. "Young lady, you can't-"

"Yes she can," Dean cuts him off. His eyes are looking slightly unfocused, but they are fixed on you. You hear the rest of the team file in behind you as you make your way over to Dean, slowly, like you're afraid he'll break if you move too fast. You look him over as you move. His helmet, gloves, and skates are off. He looks ok, except for the eyes. "What happened?" You ask, sitting carefully beside him. "Are you ok?"

"That depends," he responds. Fear fills you again. Is the injury that bad? "Depends on what?" You ask. On if he has surgery to fix it? On if he never plays hockey again? The horrible possibilities flood your mind.

"Did we win?" He asks. You're too stunned to answer. You replay his question in your head a few times, sure you must have misheard him. "Are you serious?" You finally ask.

"Yes, I'm serious," he responds. "Did we win?"

You let out a frustrated breath. "You were up by two with barely more than a minute left. Of course you won," you answer. "Then I'm fine," he says. You feel like you could smack him. Why must he be so difficult? Why couldn't he just answer your question.

"Dean. What happened?" You demand. You can hear the edge in your voice.

"It's just a minor concussion. It was nothing. I'll be fine," he says dismissively.

"It was not nothing," you argue.

"It's hockey," he answers, as if that is explanation enough. "People get hurt. You should be used to that by now."

Sure, you've seen lots of players injured throughout the years. You've even seen Dean injured. But it was always something minor. Bumps and bruises, a sprained wrist, a broken nose one time. It wasn't the same. "I should be used to seeing you laying flat out on the ice and not moving?" You demand. Something in your voice alerts him to the fact that you're done with the joking and avoiding.

He sighs. "What do you want from me here, sweetheart? It's over and I'm fine. There's nothing more to do about it."

His question catches you off guard. What do you want from him? For him to never play hockey again? No. That wouldn't ensure he was never hurt again, and he loves it too much. There are many reasons you could never ask that of him, not the least of which being you have no right to ask. Do you want him to assure you that he's alright? Because he's already done that. So, what then? If you're being honest with yourself, what you really want is to hold onto him for a while, and for him to hold you back while your brain works on accepting the fact that he really is ok. But you can't ask that.

Instead, you agree with him. "You're right. I'm sorry. You just really scared me out there."

"I'm sorry you were so scared," he says sincerely. "But I promise, I really am ok."

"I know," you say with a forced smile. You give his hand a squeeze before leaving the room, giving the rest of the guys the privacy they've been patiently waiting for.

It's a couple weeks after the concussion incident. Things between you and Dean have been the same as usual, except they haven't been. Not really. You can't pinpoint what it is that's different, but there's definitely something. It's New Year's Eve. You're at a party with Dean and a bunch of guys from the team. Dean has been at your side all night. You wouldn't go as far as calling it weird, but... it's definitely not usual. You've attended a lot of parties together and while you make a point of knowing where the other person is and even spending a fair amount of time together, you do usually hang out with other people too. Not that you're not hanging out with anyone else. It's just that apparently you're staying together while doing it. Not that you're complaining.

The midnight countdown is fast approaching. You're not currently dating anyone so you've resigned yourself to not having a midnight kiss this year. You don't mind. You don't really see it as the big deal a lot of people seem to. You think to yourself that Dean better find someone very quick if he plans on kissing someone though. For some reason, that thought doesn't sit quite right with you. You're not sure why. You've never cared before who Dean kissed.

The countdown starts. You watch the people around you as they scurry to be near their partners. The count reaches two and you turn to Dean, preparing to clink your beers together in celebration. The count reaches one and Dean's free hand goes to rest on your cheek as he leans in and presses his lips to yours. When he pulls away, it leaves you breathless. The room explodes into cheers and the clinking of bottles and glasses.

"Why'd you do that?" You ask, ignoring the celebration going on around you.

"Should I not have?" He asks. It's a mild question, but there's a challenge in it. As if he's daring you. But daring you to do what?

"No, it's not- I didn't say that." You're not sure what he was hoping you'd say, but this is clearly at the very least not the wrong response. He waits for you to continue. "It's just... we've both been single on New Year's Eve before. You've never kissed me."

"It's never been right before," he shrugs. He sees your confusion and explains. "You and me, I think we've been heading in this direction for a long time. And I think everyone but us could see it. It's why the guys tease us so much. It's why there's a bunch of hockey obsessed girls out there who are insanely jealous of you even though up until now there hasn't been anything to be jealous of. I think it's why all of my girlfriends haven't liked you very much and your boyfriends have hated me."

"I wouldn't say they hated you," you protest. You're not sure why. It's probably the nerves at the implications of what he's saying. It makes you feel better to say something, unhelpful as it may be. He just gives you a look before continuing.

"I don't know if we honestly didn't know we felt this way or were just lying to ourselves about it. But you can't tell me things haven't been different between us lately. I know it's not just me." Was he right? Was that the change you've been noticing? You're not sure if you would have come to this conclusion on your own. After all, this was Dean. Steady, reliable, Dean who you've never seen as more than a friend. But now that the possibility has been brought up, now that he's kissed you, you can't deny what you're feeling.

"Things have been different," you admit. "I just..." How to finish that sentence. You just what? Never saw Dean in that way? Not untrue, but what was the point in bringing it up? Objectively you've always been able to clearly see why other girls fought tooth and nail for his attention. And now that you are looking at him that way, it is a pointless statement. You weren't expecting it? Also true, but obvious enough without having to say it.

Dean is usually good about letting you sort through your thoughts at times like this, but today he doesn't have the patience. "You just what?" He prompts. "Didn't expect the night to go like this?"

"Well no, I didn't. But that's not what I was going to say."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," you sigh, frustrated at your inability to find the words you want. You start speaking without really thinking, and thankfully the right words come to you. "I guess I just didn't realize why things were different. I noticed it, but I couldn't figure out what it was."

"And now that you know?"

You give him a little mischievous smile, feeling more confident after having some time to process. "Being just friends was getting a little boring anyway. Too predictable. I think it's about time we change things up."

Dean grins back and it lights up his face. You nearly catch your breath at the sight. Having your eyes opened to your feelings is like peeling a film off your eyes that you've lived with your entire life without knowing it's there. It's like seeing him for the first time, and he is the most stunning man you've ever seen. "Alright," he says. "Let's change it up then. If I score in under three minutes at the next game, you have to go on a date with me. Maybe you even have to kiss me."

You stop your jaw from literally dropping open, but you know he can read the look of disbelief on your face. "Your next game isn't for four days." You point out. "You're really going to make me wait that long?"

He shrugs, but you can see the teasing glint in his eye. He's all talk. "We've waited for ten years. I don't see what another few days could hurt."

"Screw that," you say. You set your beer on the table next to you and throw your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. His hands settle automatically on the small of your back, arms around your waist, and you can feel his smile as he kisses you. You can't help but to smile back.

You're soon interrupted by a shouted, "Hey, Winchester finally got his girl!" from a drunken Benny, followed by whistles and catcalls from the rest of his teammates. You can't fight the heat that rises to your cheeks, but you sit through the ensuing teasing and congratulations as patiently as you can. Thankfully it's short lived as there's more exciting things happening -- it is a party after all -- and Dean's arm around your waist certainly helps calm your nerves.

"Don't be embarrassed," Dean says, knowing you've never been one for PDA. "You know they don't care." You aren't so embarrassed that you won't get over it in a minute or two, but you appreciate his attempts to calm you nonetheless. "And look on the bright side," he adds, brightening at whatever he's thinking. "At least now we're all on the same page the next time they call you my girl."

You smile. He's right. 'Winchester's girl' has a whole new ring to it now. It might have taken us a while to catch up, but they were right. You are, and always were, Dean's girl.

Secondary note: I realize I switch tenses halfway through this. I don't really feel like fixing it though. Also, I've tried to at least keep the present tense section all present tense, but I wouldn't be surprised if I'm switching back and forth. I usually write in past tense and found myself reverting back to it without realizing multiple times. I've reread it to try and catch anything, but it's late and I'm tired, so I probably missed some. I'll probably read this over again sometime in the next day or two to find any errors, but I wanted to get it posted. Hope you enjoyed!

Tags:

@123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28

#winchester's girl #supernatural #fanfiction #hockey au #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x reader #getting together #friends to lovers

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