Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

It's Gonna Be a Beautiful Night

Dean x Reader

You could remember the exact moment your life had changed forever. The smell of the bar. A mixture of spilt alcohol and perfume, with greasy food mixed in. You could remember the feel of the slippery glass in your hand, the condensation gathering on the outside of your jack and coke.

Even the outfit you wore stood out in your mind. A simple outfit, nothing fancy. Nowhere close to the skimpy outfits other people were wearing. Jeans ripped from years of wear, a sweater to ward off the chill of fall. Boots scuffed from scuffling monster after monster. Your hair had been down for once, cascading down your shoulders, no doubt ready to get thrown up in a bun once again.

Even now, you could still remember how crowded the bar was, fans cheering over the football game, college students playing pool in the corner. The music playing in the background. The song you would never forget as long as you lived playing on the jukebox. You had never considered yourself a Prince fan, but when his song It's Gonna Be a Beautiful night started playing, the man of your dreams came walking through the front door, immediately looking as if he owned the place.

Stopping at the entrance, he surveyed the entire bar in an instant, his vibrant green eyes scanning the room without a care. It gave you a chance to check him out. He was decked out in faded jeans, clinging to his hips, showcasing his sturdy bowlegs. A dark green flannel shirt was unbuttoned, showing off a plain black t-shirt underneath. His hair was a dark sandy, spiked in the front. He looked confident and sure of himself, and you knew right away he was going to be trouble.

Your breath caught in your throat as he made his way through the crowds blocking his way, ignoring the women who glanced longingly at his tall and lean body. He was the vision of every woman's wet dreams, and you caught yourself licking your lips as you imagined your naked body rubbing up against his.

Trying to calm your speeding heart, you took a drink of your whiskey, surprised when he headed straight your way, a smile playing on those plump, sinful lips of his. "This chair taken?" He asked you, his voice just as amazing as the rest of him. It was deep, deeper than you had imagined, rumbling straight to your core.

Suddenly unable to find your words, you shook your head, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip as he sat down next to you. He smelled of whiskey, gunpowder and oil, a scent that was pure male. His mossy green eyes glanced down where your teeth still had your lower lip caught, and his eyes darkened before they met yours once again. "What are you drinking?"

"Jack and coke." You answered him, and he quickly ordered you a new drink, while ordering a plain beer for himself.

"Dean." He said once your new drink was in front of you. "And you are?"

Stuttering out your name, you couldn't keep your gaze from his lips, wondering how they felt pressed against yours. Wondering how a man could have such plump lips.

"Beautiful name." He answered, taking a sip of his drink. "This bar usually this busy?" He asked you, and you could tell he was trying to start a conversation.

"I wouldn't know." You answered him, taking a long sip of your drink, letting the alcohol booster your self-esteem. "I've never been here before."

"Then it's my lucky night." He exclaimed, making you blush. "So Y/N, what has you seeking this bar out on this chilly fall night?"

"Life." Was your answer. You didn't want to bore him with the details, but he seemed extremely interested in what you had to say. "Lost my job, got evicted. All in one week."

"That's horrible." He answered, his entire body turning to face you. There was just something about Dean, that drew you to him like a moth to a flame. You felt hot, and off centered. The noise of the bar had all but faded away, the man bumping into you not even worth a notice. Nothing mattered except Dean, and the way he seemed to hang on your every word. The way those sinful lips latched onto his glass. The way his green eyes shown in the darkened interior, never leaving your face. "What do you plan to do?"

"I have no idea." You answered truthfully. "My families gone. I have a friend in Kansas, thought about visiting her, trying to find a job up there. A new place, a new life. I think it's time."

"I'm from Kansas." He explained. "My job has me traveling a lot, but I have a place there that I always love heading back home to."

"Such a small world." You said softly, taking another sip to realize you were almost empty. You had a slight buzz going on, not as much as you had hoped for, but it was a start. Your cheeks were rosy, partly from the alcohol, but also from Dean's continuous gaze.

"Why don't we get out of here?" He suggested, downing the rest of his whiskey. "I've got a hotel room you can crash at for the night. No obligations, I promise."

It was hard to believe that this handsome man in front of you was offering you a place to stay, no strings attached. Even though, you were pretty sure you wouldn't mind if there had been strings, but you found yourself accepting, without even realizing it. But there was something about Dean, that had your inhibitions fading away.

Standing up, he reached out his hand, and you grasped it without a pause. Pulling you to your feet, Dean tucked you into his side, leading you out of the bar and away from the only life you had ever known. Feeling excited, and nervous at the same time, you glanced over to Dean who smiled down at you. With one look in his eyes, you told yourself, "This is going to hurt when it's over."

6 months later

Wiping a tear from your eye, you continued packing your bags. If you had only known back then how true your thoughts would be, you might have stayed back, not let the green-eyed man lead you into a life full of mystery and danger. Here you were, six months later, your heart shattered into a million pieces, once again homeless, and lost.

"Y/N, you don't have to go." Sam muttered as he leaned against the doorframe, his face sad and full of guilt. "Just because..."

"Would you stay?" You asked loudly. "Could you stay if the love of your life was caught in the arms of someone else?"

Sighing, he shook his head. "No, I couldn't. But Y/N, I'll miss you. Dean's been stupid, and he'll regret this."

Tossing your bag over your shoulder, you quickly hugged Sam, ignoring the man standing at the end of the hallway, a whiskey glass in his hands. So much had changed since that fateful night at the bar, and even though he broke your heart, you still owed the man so much.

Sighing as you glanced his way one last time, you could still see the man you had fallen in love with. The man who had ordered you a drink, given you a chance at a new life. Wishing he would say something, anything that gave you the option to stay. But he stayed silent, those green eyes of his you loved so much hidden in the darkness. Letting a tear slip down your cheek, you turned to your car, tossing your bag in the back. Turning the ignition on, you felt your heart shatter even more as the song It's Going to Be a Beautiful Night started playing.