Pairing: Dean Di Laurentis x f!reader
Description: Life at college was supposed to be about making memories... late night parties, games, cheap beer, and maybe even a few bad decisions. Determined to break out of your shell after a promise to your friend, you throw yourself into the Briar social scene. The last thing you expect is to cross paths with Briar U's most notorious playboy. Charming, cocky, and impossible to ignore, Dean Di Laurentis might just turn your college experience upside down... and make you question everything you thought you wanted.
Tags/ Warnings: Mentions of drugs, alcohol, and parties.
Note: I have randomly been feeling really inspired to write, and it probably has something to do with all of the fresh inspo feeding me lately... This accidentally got way longer than I expected, so I will most likely be writing a part two to this in the next few days. If there's anything specific you'd like to see in the next part, please let me know! Thanks for reading! Feedback would be greatly appreciated! <3
Tv shows didn't always accurately portray the college experience. That was clear to you as you pushed through the crowd, the bass from the speakers making every cell in your body vibrate.
If college parties were supposed to be so fun, why were you so ready to leave?
Your shoes pinched, your head was fuzzy, and your "go-getter" attitude was fading fast. Allie had conveniently failed to mention this part of a college party. The suffocating heat, the inability to walk anywhere without fighting through a crowd, and the desperate need for a moment to yourself.
She had drug you along to the Briar University men's hockey party, the team celebrating a big win against Harvard. Your friend Hannah had just begun officially dating Garrett Graham, the starting forward/center for the team. You had inadvertently begun hanging out with some of his teammates in your desire to spend time with Hannah, and honestly they weren't too bad. Most of them made you feel like you fit right in, so coming to the party hadn't been that dreadful for you.
Finally spotting a break in the sea of people, you slipped into the kitchen with a sigh of relief. The music dulled just enough to ease the pounding in your head, and the pressure of the crowd eased off of your shoulders.
You steeled in determination. You had one mission and one mission only.
A movie-like "target acquired" sounded in your mind when your gaze fell on what you had been searching for. A tall, fat stack of red solo cups.
Your feet pulled you in the direction of the stack, nothing else more important than one of those perfect red cups finding its way into your outstretched hand.
You faintly registered your toes bumping into what must be discarded cans and bottles, your mind solely set on the mission at hand.
Reaching for a cup at the top of the stack, your heart nearly lurched out of your chest when another, much larger, hand got to it first.
Your movements froze as you watched the cup ascend from the counter, making it's way toward an even larger body. Turning your head towards your opponent, you were immediately transported out of mission mode.
Standing right next to you, the most attractive man you'd seen all night- scratch that- maybe even all year, let his eyes fall upon yours. You found yourself caught in the gaze of the greenest eyes you'd ever seen.
"Looks like we've got the same idea. Shots?"
It took you a second to realize he was speaking, his body turning casually to lean against the counter next to you. Finally finding your voice, you redirected your focus back to the stack of cups.
"Oh- no. Just water." you let out a chuckle to accommodate for the awkwardness, finally bringing a cup into your own grasp. Realizing the sink was on the other side of your opponent, you turned back to face him.
His eyes were unmistakably taking you in, so you figured it was only fair to return the favor. Messy blonde hair had been pushed back from his forehead, looking as though he'd spent the night running a hand through it. A worn Briar t-shirt stretched comfortably across broad shoulders, the sleeves a little tight around his biceps, hinting at an athletic build.
You suddenly felt self-conscious of your own appearance, hair most likely a mess and posture rigid at the intensity of the night.
Before you could fall down that rabbit hole, a smirk took over the stranger's face before he was speaking again. "I don't think we've met. I'm Dean."
His hand reached out between you, and after a moment's hesitation, you took it. His grip was warm and firm, and the simple touch sent an embarrassing flutter through your stomach. Heat bloomed across your cheeks as he held your gaze.
Right. He was waiting for your name.
You managed to stammer it out before looking back up at him, only to find the corner of his mouth twitching into an amused smile.
Before you could react, his hand was leaving your outstretched one to pluck the empty cup out of your other, his gaze determined as he placed both yours and his onto the counter before him.
His gaze swung back to you over his shoulder, assessing your reaction as his hand reached out to grab a bottle of liquor tucked further onto the counter. You went to protest, but decided against it when you realized you were indeed at a party, and your buzz had pretty much faded.
Deciding you'd need some liquid courage to continue this interaction, you let a small smile grace your features before you managed a quick nod at his silent question.
You weren't even sure what kind of liquor he had chosen, too enamored by watching his hands work the cap off of the bottle and pour a practiced amount into each cup.
You gasped when he quickly spun back around, your cup now hovering between you, outstretched in his steady grasp.
Grabbing the cup from him, you pretended not to notice the tingle that shot up your arm as your fingers grazed. Looking down into your cup, you felt a cringe already forming at the clear liquid sloshing in the bottom. You let your concerned gaze fall on him once again when you decided to ask, "Isn't there like... a routine for this?"
Dean chuckled at your question, bringing his gaze to your own. He lifted his cup, bringing it to tap against your own. His face turned into one of determination as he licked his lips and began explaining.
"Something like that." he muttered, a smirk forming on the corner of his mouth. "After we cheers, we tap the cup on the counter. Then you can take the shot."
You felt yourself nodding along to his explanation, palm suddenly becoming slick at the fear of the burn you were about to experience.
"Well, then. Cheers... I guess." you muttered, a slight shrug in your shoulders.
Your cups clinked again before you followed his movements and tapped your own on the counter, simultaneously with his.
Bringing the plastic to your lips, you scrunched your eyes and downed the liquid, the taste immediately taking over your senses.
Letting the cup fall back to your front, you shook your head as a grimace took over your features, tongue sticking out and one eye closing at the sour taste.
If you weren't already feeling the buzz travel through your body, you probably would've been embarrassed by the look on your face.
You glanced a look out of the corner of your eye at Dean, his expression mirroring your own before blowing out a breath and licking his lips once again.
"Wow. That was rough." he chuckled, reaching to grab the cup from your hand once again.
You almost paled when you thought he was pouring another, but relaxed when his body led to the sink instead. He rinsed out both cups before filling them each with water.
Once he came back to stand in front of you, you didn't give him the chance to reach his hand out before you were taking the cup from his grasp and taking a slow sip.
Dean just chuckled before doing the same, his eyes staying locked with yours over the rim of his cup.
You were momentarily pulled from his gaze at a loud cheer coming from outside the kitchen, reality reminding you to the fact that you were here with Allie and had been in this kitchen for a while.
You looked back to Dean with a small smile on your face, your hands coming to cradle the cup carefully in front of you. "Well, thank you for the shot, but I should probably go find my friend."
Dean nodded, his gaze dropping to your grip on the cup before coming back up to your face. "What's your friends name?"
You tucked a hair behind your ear before responding, a quick "Allie" tumbling past your lips. You realized he might actually know her, and added on "We're good friends with Hannah, Garrett's girlfriend."
He let out a strange "huh" before tilting his head and mumbling "I know Allie. I just want to know why I've never seen you before."
You let out a small giggle as your gaze fell back to your cup before raising your head once again. "I don't really go to parties."
Just as he went to respond, your name echoed off the walls of the kitchen. Allie had burst through the doorway, drink in hand as she shot her gaze accusingly between you and Dean.
Looking at it from an outside perspective, you were standing pretty close.
She quickly marched over to you, huffing in frustration at something you weren't entirely sure of. She latched onto your arm and began dragging you back towards the party, leaving you no time to react as you fell into step behind her, the drink sloshing in your cup.
Glancing over your shoulder, you took one last look at Dean, his hand running through his hair and eyes following your every step. He smirked as he let a small "Bye, y/n" fall past his lips.
You gave him a sympathetic smile before you rounded the doorway, the sight of him replaced by the crowd of people as you kept moving.
Kicking your shoes off at the door, you let Allie's grumbling voice fade as you made your way into the kitchen.
Deciding she wasn't done with you, she followed you into the room, throwing herself down into one of your barstools before continuing on.
"When I said you needed to get out there, I didn't mean to find the biggest man-whore on campus. You're lucky I saved you."
Ruffling through the freezer, you pulled out a bag of pizza rolls and let them fall on the counter with a thud. Turning back to your friend, you let your hands fall on the counter before sarcastically responding, "Jesus. I wasn't having sex with him Allie! We were just talking."
She rolled her eyes in annoyance before shooting back a quick "Talking turns into sex, y/n. And that's the last thing you need from Dean Di Laurentis."
You could hear the sneer in her voice at his name, turning back to place a handful of the pizza rolls on in the microwave.
Setting the timer, you shot a small "Message received Allie. No more Dean." over your shoulder at your friend.
You heard her deflate at your words, her body spinning in the stool before she stood. "Thank you. Now I'm going to crash on the couch. Goodnight."
At the fade of her footsteps, you let your eyes watch the ticking clock on the microwave, your fingers tapping along on the countertop.
Strangely, you felt a little disappointed at the thought of 'No more Dean'.
Almost a week had passed when you decided to meet up with Hannah and the boys at Malone's. You had been growing more comfortable with the group since Hannah began dating Garrett, and decided one night of getting out of your dorm wouldn't hurt.
Classes had been a nightmare this week, the next assignments falling into your lap before you could even finish the first ones. You were getting a drink, and that was decided.
Pushing through the glass door, you smiled at the familiar bell ringing at your entrance. Wow, the place was packed. Your eyes surveyed the booths before falling on Hannah, her arm quickly raising to wave you over.
You let an appreciative look fall over your face at her actions, your feet beginning their path to her table. Halfway there, you almost paused.
Across the booth from Hannah, with his back turned to you, sat an unmistakable head of blonde hair. Not letting yourself falter, you continued walking, your mind filling with regret at your choice of a Briar baby-tee and worn out jeans.
Finally making it to the table, you immediately slid into your seat as Hannah pushed her way further into the booth. Her arms came to wrap around you, the scent of her cherry perfume wrapping you in comfort. She lowly murmured "Someone was excited you were coming." before shooting her gaze towards Dean, bringing a shocked expression to your face. She just raised her eyebrows suggestively before giggling, letting her hands fall back to her drink.
Once she released you, you let your eyes fall on each other face at the table in silent greeting, your nerves building as you made your way to the final one.
Locking eyes with Dean, his green eyes captured yours from the first glance. You knew he had watched you sit down, the tingle on your profile alerting you to his stare.
Before either of you could say anything, the server approached right next to you, moving your attention to her introduction. She asked for your drink order and, feeling bold, you rambled off your choice of cocktail before she nodded and disappeared.
"Long week?" Hannah asked, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder with a friendly laugh.
You dramatically dropped your head into your hands, a muffled "Don't even get me started." coming from you before conversation picked back up again.
You found yourself following along with Garrett's dramatic story re-telling, a small smile on your lips as everyone laughed. Once again, the server approached your table, sliding your drink to you. You gave her a small 'thank you' before taking a heavy sip.
About to turn back to the conversation, you froze when you felt something graze against your foot. Shooting your gaze to the culprit, you gulped when you found Dean looking intently at you, leaned on his arms halfway across the table.
Feeling bold, you mirrored his movements, crossing your arms the same way as him before leaning in. You thought you saw his gaze following your mouth as you closed the distance.
His signature smirk took over his face as he took you in, and your heart stalled at the small "Hi" he sent your way.
Hoping he couldn't see the flush taking over your face, you mumbled back an even smaller "Hi" before bringing your lip between your teeth.
It felt like minutes had passed before he spoke again, the seconds filled with each of you sizing the other up.
Dean took a sip of his beer before he whispered, his tone playfully secretive, "Allie doesn't like me talking to you."
You giggled at that, your eyes dramatically falling around the booth before landing back on his. Leaning in even closer, you let your voice drop to match his. "Well, it's a good thing Allie isn't here, isn't it?"
His eyes lit up at your response, his tongue shooting out to moisten his lips before he leaned back in the booth once again. "Let's play a game."
You should've known better than to partake in any game Dean had come up with. You were on your third drink, your mind becoming delightfully fuzzy as the night went on.
It was some twisted form of 21 questions, but instead of just asking and answering like normal people, each time one of you answered the other had to take a sip. The rules led to some pretty deep questions, and you were feeling confident enough to give honest responses knowing it lead to him tipping back his bottle.
Your cheeks were hurting from how much you were smiling, Dean taking the time to animatedly dive into your answers. When you admitted you had a hidden tattoo, that remained the subject of conversation for a while.
"You can't tell me that and not tell me what it is. Now I'm intrigued." he had said, his eyes narrowed from across the table. You only shrugged and pointed at his drink smugly. "That wasn't the question. Drink, Di Laurentis."
By drink four and the 21st question, you were on top of the world. The others had joined in on the game, the rules now accommodating for everyone at the table. Now each player got to choose who they asked about, and well... the drinking basically turned into everyone sipping after every question.
You didn't fail to notice how Dean had continued only asking you questions, though.
The game had come to an end and everyone was happily chatting, laughs buzzing around the booth. Your mind kept drifting to the blonde across from you, curious why Allie had made such a point to keep you away from him. He seemed great, even if you weren't considering a hook-up. Sadly, that was not the case.
Your stomach fluttered at the thought, the drinks coursing straight to your core with the images flashing through your mind. Clenching your thighs together, you almost shot out of the booth when you felt another brush against your leg.
Dean was looking at you again, a tilt to his head and a suggestive look on his face. Had you said something out loud?
Just as you went to defend yourself, he cut you off, rising from the booth and offering you his hand. "Get a drink with me?"
Letting your fingers fall into his grasp, you rose out of the booth. You didn't realize the place had become even more crowded, your anxiety rising at the crowd you were about to have to navigate... while heavily tipsy.
Before you could begin to panic, you felt Dean tug on your hand, bringing himself in front of you to push through the crowd. His hand never left yours, his head turning every few seconds to make sure you were still behind him.
Once you made it to the bar, your cheeks heated instantly when he placed himself behind you, his arms falling on either side of your waist to grip the bar counter. He communicated something with the bartender over your head, the only thing you picked up being the bartender's quick nod and shuffle to the other end of the bar.
Turning around to question him, you gasped when you realized how close he was to you, his chest practically pressed against your own. Dean didn't falter, instead it felt like he moved even closer, his gaze finding your own.
"What did you get us?" you almost yelled, the band's volume causing you to strain your voice. Dean angled his ear towards your mouth before smirking. He simply shrugged, a teasing grin spreading across his face.
Your breath caught as he wrapped himself around you, your face coming close to the juncture of his neck. Your brain short-circuited before he leaned back again, two small shot glasses in his hand. The scent of his cologne lingered, a dark woodsy scent you knew you'd be dreaming about.
Lifting one of the glasses to you, you gave him a suspicious look. He just laughed before leaning into your ear, slightly yelling "It's our tradition, baby."
You just scoffed before grabbing the glass from his grip, holding it up between you before a moment of confidence overtook you. Wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, you brought his ear down to your mouth before questioning "Any special routines this time?"
Letting yourself fall back onto your heels, you took in the look on his face. His eyes had darkened, and his gaze was jumping between your own. After a second of hesitation, he snapped back to reality, bringing his forearm to wrap around your own. He leaned down closer and signaled to the shot in your hand. You only nodded before bringing it to your lips, him doing the same.
You realized as soon as the fluid hit your tongue that he had ordered the same shot you took at the party, the burn hitting instantly. Downing it quickly, you felt your body take a screenshot at the intensity of it. Scrunching your face, you vigorously shook your head, your hair flying all around you.
Dean laughed from somewhere in front of you, your closed eyes keeping his location unknown. You felt his hand come down onto your hair to smooth it as his chest vibrated against your own.
Letting your eyes fall back open with a scarred look on your face, you muttered "That was almost worse than last time."
Dean just laughed again before licking his lips, your eyes locking in on the movement of his tongue. He started yelling something back to you, but the fog in your brain made his voice blend in with your surroundings. Gaze still locked on his mouth, he brought his hand up to your chin and raised your head to look at him properly.
A blush took over your face as you realized he was waiting for a response, but all you could do was look at him in confusion. He brought his mouth toward your ear, his hand falling from the bar top to land on your hip. Your breathing stuttered as he lowly teased "You're staring."
Letting your gaze meet his once again, a flushed "Sorry" fell past your lips as he took you in. His eyes had darkened again.
Before you could ask him to repeat himself, his mouth fell to your ear for the second time in a minute, heat rushing straight to your core at his words.
"I really like it when you look at me."
Flopping back into the booth, you turned to find Hannah giving you a questioning look, her eyes shooting from yours to Dean and back again. Before you could manage a word, Dean shouting from beside the booth brought your attention elsewhere.
"Beau! What's up man?" he yelled, quickly taking a few steps away to greet what you assumed was his friend. Hannah didn't let you forget about her, her hand pulling you back to the silent question.
You managed a small shrug before a simple "He's cute." fell from your lips. She just laughed and wrapped her arm around you, dropping a friendly peck to the side of your head.
Getting back into conversation with the table, you slowly realized how late it was. Your eyes began drooping before yawns started forcing their way past your lips every few seconds. Turning to Hannah, you leaned in to ask her if she had plans for a ride home.
"I'm staying at Garrett's but we can drop you off at your dorm. We were just about to leave anyways." she assured, her hand falling to Garrett's to signal it was time to go.
Dean hadn't returned to the booth by the time the three of you were standing to head out, your eyes discretely searching the crowd for him. Your heart fell to your stomach when you finally spotted his blonde hair, but not in a good way.
Tucked under his arm in a booth across the bar sat a beautiful blonde girl, her hand on his chest as she whispered something into his ear. Your eyes burned at the sight, choosing to quickly look away before he caught you staring.
Gulping down the last sip of your drink, Hannah grabbed your arm to lead you to the door, the fluttery feeling you'd had all night staying behind at the booth as the bell dinged above your head.
Texting Hannah you'd made it in the dorm safe, you left your phone on the nightstand charging before heading to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You stared at yourself as you brushed your teeth, your eyes losing focus as you took in the events of the night.
He likes it when you look at him? Well he seemed to like it when that other girl did, too. Allie was right. It took Dean all of five minutes to forget your presence, while you were itching for his return like a desperate schoolgirl. Letting out a sigh you rinsed your mouth before heading back to your room. Chucking on whatever oversized shirt you could find you flopped into bed.
Staring at the ceiling contemplating for a while, you felt your eyes burn at the sting of rejection you were feeling. You were not going to cry over Dean Di Laurentis, no matter how bad you wanted to.
Just as your blinks were getting longer, a harsh buzz on your nightstand almost sent you flying out of bed. Grabbing your phone and squinting at the brightness, you felt your brow furrow at the unsaved number on your phone.
The message read "No goodbye?" before a second one rolled in, a simple "It's Dean" popping up beneath the first.
Feeling petty, you typed and sent a quick "You seemed busy"
You unconsciously began biting at your nails, watching as his typing bubble appeared and disappeared repeatedly. Realizing you were craving his attention again, you let out a frustrated huff before turning your phone completely off and slamming it onto the nightstand.
Sure, you'd had boyfriends while in college, but none of them had made you feel the way Dean already has. The relationships were very vanilla, and none of them lasted more than a handful of months. Dean had made you feel more alive in a week than the last guy had in sixteen of them. Maybe that's just apart of the playboy charm Allie had warned you about.
When you awoke the next day, you had no new messages waiting for you. He hadn't even had the decency to respond. Deciding you were over it, you closed out of the messenger app before deciding to see if Hannah wanted to grab breakfast. You were definitely feeling the after effects of the alcohol you'd consumed last night.
You and Hannah ended up talking for a good 15 minutes, you her and Garrett (from the background of the call) had decided to eat at Waffle House in an hour.
Throwing your hair in a clip, brushing your teeth, pulling on a sweat set, and plopping the largest pair of sunglasses you owned over your eyes... you were ready to face the day.
Garrett's jeep was parked in front of the dorm when you stepped out, both of them greeting you as you slid into the backseat. Garrett quickly whipped out of the lot before you were on your way, your stomach growling at the thought of food.
You had just placed your order when Garrett's voice caught your attention. "What happened with Dean last night?" tumbling past his lips as he glanced at you. Your mouth went dry at the question, a quick "What do you mean?" passed back to him before you were chugging your water.
"He came home not long after us saying something about 'fucking everything up' before he started begging us all for your number. I finally gave it to him to get him to calm down, but when I did he just stormed up to his room and shut the door. I was just curious if something happened between you two."
You let your mind wander at his admission, the gears turning in your head at what you were hearing. Finally clearing your throat, you thought about your response before carefully stating "Nothing really. I thought we were kind of hitting things off but when we went to leave Malone's I saw him cuddled up with some girl across the room. I figured it was just the 'playboy' Dean finally making his appearance."
You added on an unbothered shrug, hoping that what you'd just said hadn't exposed how hurt you were by the situation. Thankfully, with the monstrous glasses on your face the couple couldn't see the dampness in your eyes.
Hannah let out a "huh" at your explanation, her fingers curling the straw wrapper around repeatedly before she was adding her own opinion into the conversation.
"That's really shocking to me because he hasn't stopped talking about you all week. It took me three days to realize every time he said y/n he was talking about you and not a different person. I don't know how it started but he definitely seemed enamored by you. I'm surprised he would be willing to ruin it like that."
Twisting your fingers under the table, you let out a soft sigh before bringing an end to the conversation, deciding to brush off the intensity with a snap back to reality.
"Well, it's not like we were dating or anything so I can't really be upset. I should've known what I was getting myself into."
Hannah just gave you an apologetic look before changing the topic, bringing up something Logan had said at the bar last night instead.
Your mind raced as you scarfed down your food, confusion and agitation blending in your chest. You would definitely be over analyzing this conversation later.
Flipping through Netflix documentaries, your mind was still racing hours after breakfast. You had decided to have a chill day, wrapped in a matching pj set and face mask applied as you lounged on the couch. You had come home and immediately exfoliated all of your regrets in the shower before deciding to have a full spa moment.
You had just pressed play on a submarine documentary when there was a knock at the door. Realizing it was Saturday and your roommates were all out on the town, you huffed before marching toward the door, expecting the visitor to be your RA or another girl down the hall.
Your heart stopped beating when you swung open the door to find none other than Dean Di Laurentis on the other side.
