Lola♡

[cameronsfawn]

lola 4teen writing tanning sunscreen beach rafe’s angel bruce’s fawn chapstick bikinis painted nails cookies sandles cute lifeguards

masterlist , taglist , wip , about me

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[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dilf!rafe x vintage!reader

summary: you guys have your first night together since you started going out

a/n: im taking requests :)

🏷️: @downbadwellread @legendarychrattgirl @ssugartalkin @angelicameron

by the fourth date, you had stopped wondering whether rafe was simply putting on an act.

he wasn’t.

he still arrived early every single time. he still walked around to open your car door before you even had the chance to reach for the handle. he still brought flowers, never because he thought he had to, but because, as he’d put it, “they made me think of you.” they were never extravagant bouquets either. daisies one week because he’d remembered you saying they reminded you of summers with your grandmother. pale pink roses another because he’d overheard you admiring them while passing a florist.

he listened.

really listened.

and somehow, that was the thing that made you fall the hardest.

that friday evening had been simple. dinner at a quiet italian restaurant tucked away from the busy streets, followed by a slow walk through downtown while the storefront lights reflected across the sidewalks. he’d held your hand almost the entire time, his thumb lazily brushing over your knuckles as the two of you wandered without much of a destination. neither of you seemed interested in rushing the night to an end.

eventually, you found yourselves back at his house.

it was beautiful without being flashy. warm wood floors, shelves lined with framed photographs, the faint scent of vanilla and cedar lingering in the air. unlike the sleek bachelor apartments you’d seen before, this place looked lived in. comfortable. like a home instead of a showroom.

your eyes wandered toward a picture sitting on the mantle.

a little girl with sandy blond curls sat on rafe’s shoulders at what looked like the beach, both of them laughing so hard neither had noticed the camera.

your smile softened.

“she’s adorable.”

rafe looked over.

his entire expression changed.

the confident businessman disappeared, replaced by something much gentler.

“that’s emma.”

he walked over and picked up the frame almost instinctively.

“she’s eight.”

“she looks just like you.”

he chuckled.

“everyone says that.” he studied the picture for another second before setting it back down carefully. “thankfully she got her mom’s personality.”

“i doubt that.”

“trust me.”

you laughed quietly.

“where is she tonight?”

“with her mom.” he leaned against the fireplace, folding his arms. “we split custody.”

there wasn’t bitterness in his voice.

just acceptance.

you nodded.

“was it… hard?”

his eyes found yours.

“the divorce?”

“yeah.”

he was quiet for a long moment.

“harder than i ever expected.”

you sat beside him on the couch, giving him space to decide how much he wanted to say.

after another few seconds, he continued.

“we got married young. thought love would fix everything.” he smiled to himself, though there wasn’t much happiness behind it. “turns out love doesn’t solve poor communication.”

you listened without interrupting.

“we weren’t bad people,” he said. “we just stopped being good for each other.”

“do you still talk?”

“for emma.” he nodded. “and honestly… we’re better parents now than we ever were spouses.”

there was something incredibly mature about the way he spoke.

no insults.

no blaming.

just honesty.

“she’s lucky.”

his eyebrows lifted.

“emma.”

you smiled.

“she has parents who clearly love her enough to put her first.”

for a second, rafe simply looked at you.

then he smiled in that quiet way he’d started doing whenever you said something that surprised him.

“you’re something else.”

heat crept into your cheeks.

before you could respond, he reached over, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

his fingers lingered for only a second.

long enough for your heart to speed up.

“can i kiss you?” he asked softly.

you smiled.

“yes.”

his hand rested lightly against your jaw as he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.

instead, you met him halfway.

the kiss was slow.

careful.

nothing rushed.

nothing demanding.

just warm lips against yours and the quiet realization that no one had ever kissed you like they actually wanted to savor the moment.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead rested lightly against his.

you took a steadying breath.

“there’s… something i should probably tell you.”

he immediately leaned back enough to look at you

his expression never changed.

never became impatient.

“go ahead.”

your hands twisted together nervously in your lap.

“i’m a virgin.”

you watched carefully for his reaction.

there wasn’t one.

he simply waited.

“and…” you swallowed. “i’m waiting until i’m married.”

silence settled between you.

for half a second, every insecurity your ex had ever planted threatened to come rushing back.

then rafe smiled.

a genuine one.

“okay.”

you blinked.

“…okay?”

“okay.”

he shrugged lightly, like you’d just told him your favorite color.

“that’s your decision.”

you stared at him.

“that’s it?”

he looked almost confused.

“what else would there be?”

“most people…”

“i’m not most people.”

his voice remained calm.

“if that’s something that’s important to you, then it’s important to me too.”

your shoulders relaxed so quickly you hadn’t even realized you’d been tense.

“you’re not disappointed?”

he reached for your hand.

“i asked you out because i like spending time with you.” his thumb traced slow circles across your skin. “not because i expected anything from you.”

your eyes began to sting.

he noticed immediately.

“hey.”

he smiled gently.

“don’t cry.”

you laughed through the embarrassing lump in your throat.

“i’m trying not to.”

“good.”

he squeezed your hand once.

“because i’d rather spend tonight learning more about you.”

you smiled.

“that’s funny.”

“why?”

“i was actually hoping to learn more about you.”

he laughed quietly.

“careful.”

“why?”

“i’ve got thirty-eight years’ worth of stories.”

you settled farther into the couch beside him, your shoulder brushing his.

“good.”

he smiled as he looked over at you.

“it’s going to be a long night then.”

“i was hoping it would be.”

and for hours afterward, the two of you stayed curled up on the couch talking about everything that had made you who you were. childhood memories, embarrassing teenage stories, the first time he’d held emma in the hospital and realized nothing in his life would ever matter more than being her father, your grandmother teaching you how to bake pies from scratch, the music both of you loved, the places you still wanted to visit someday. somewhere around midnight, you realized the best part of falling for rafe wasn’t the flowers or the dates or even the way he kissed you.

it was how safe he’d made honesty feel.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dilf!rafe x vintage!reader

summary: you guys have your first night together since you started going out

a/n: im taking requests :)

🏷️: @downbadwellread @legendarychrattgirl @ssugartalkin @angelicameron

by the fourth date, you had stopped wondering whether rafe was simply putting on an act.

he wasn’t.

he still arrived early every single time. he still walked around to open your car door before you even had the chance to reach for the handle. he still brought flowers, never because he thought he had to, but because, as he’d put it, “they made me think of you.” they were never extravagant bouquets either. daisies one week because he’d remembered you saying they reminded you of summers with your grandmother. pale pink roses another because he’d overheard you admiring them while passing a florist.

he listened.

really listened.

and somehow, that was the thing that made you fall the hardest.

that friday evening had been simple. dinner at a quiet italian restaurant tucked away from the busy streets, followed by a slow walk through downtown while the storefront lights reflected across the sidewalks. he’d held your hand almost the entire time, his thumb lazily brushing over your knuckles as the two of you wandered without much of a destination. neither of you seemed interested in rushing the night to an end.

eventually, you found yourselves back at his house.

it was beautiful without being flashy. warm wood floors, shelves lined with framed photographs, the faint scent of vanilla and cedar lingering in the air. unlike the sleek bachelor apartments you’d seen before, this place looked lived in. comfortable. like a home instead of a showroom.

your eyes wandered toward a picture sitting on the mantle.

a little girl with sandy blond curls sat on rafe’s shoulders at what looked like the beach, both of them laughing so hard neither had noticed the camera.

your smile softened.

“she’s adorable.”

rafe looked over.

his entire expression changed.

the confident businessman disappeared, replaced by something much gentler.

“that’s emma.”

he walked over and picked up the frame almost instinctively.

“she’s eight.”

“she looks just like you.”

he chuckled.

“everyone says that.” he studied the picture for another second before setting it back down carefully. “thankfully she got her mom’s personality.”

“i doubt that.”

“trust me.”

you laughed quietly.

“where is she tonight?”

“with her mom.” he leaned against the fireplace, folding his arms. “we split custody.”

there wasn’t bitterness in his voice.

just acceptance.

you nodded.

“was it… hard?”

his eyes found yours.

“the divorce?”

“yeah.”

he was quiet for a long moment.

“harder than i ever expected.”

you sat beside him on the couch, giving him space to decide how much he wanted to say.

after another few seconds, he continued.

“we got married young. thought love would fix everything.” he smiled to himself, though there wasn’t much happiness behind it. “turns out love doesn’t solve poor communication.”

you listened without interrupting.

“we weren’t bad people,” he said. “we just stopped being good for each other.”

“do you still talk?”

“for emma.” he nodded. “and honestly… we’re better parents now than we ever were spouses.”

there was something incredibly mature about the way he spoke.

no insults.

no blaming.

just honesty.

“she’s lucky.”

his eyebrows lifted.

“emma.”

you smiled.

“she has parents who clearly love her enough to put her first.”

for a second, rafe simply looked at you.

then he smiled in that quiet way he’d started doing whenever you said something that surprised him.

“you’re something else.”

heat crept into your cheeks.

before you could respond, he reached over, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

his fingers lingered for only a second.

long enough for your heart to speed up.

“can i kiss you?” he asked softly.

you smiled.

“yes.”

his hand rested lightly against your jaw as he leaned in, giving you every opportunity to pull away if you wanted to.

instead, you met him halfway.

the kiss was slow.

careful.

nothing rushed.

nothing demanding.

just warm lips against yours and the quiet realization that no one had ever kissed you like they actually wanted to savor the moment.

when you finally pulled back, your forehead rested lightly against his.

you took a steadying breath.

“there’s… something i should probably tell you.”

he immediately leaned back enough to look at you

his expression never changed.

never became impatient.

“go ahead.”

your hands twisted together nervously in your lap.

“i’m a virgin.”

you watched carefully for his reaction.

there wasn’t one.

he simply waited.

“and…” you swallowed. “i’m waiting until i’m married.”

silence settled between you.

for half a second, every insecurity your ex had ever planted threatened to come rushing back.

then rafe smiled.

a genuine one.

“okay.”

you blinked.

“…okay?”

“okay.”

he shrugged lightly, like you’d just told him your favorite color.

“that’s your decision.”

you stared at him.

“that’s it?”

he looked almost confused.

“what else would there be?”

“most people…”

“i’m not most people.”

his voice remained calm.

“if that’s something that’s important to you, then it’s important to me too.”

your shoulders relaxed so quickly you hadn’t even realized you’d been tense.

“you’re not disappointed?”

he reached for your hand.

“i asked you out because i like spending time with you.” his thumb traced slow circles across your skin. “not because i expected anything from you.”

your eyes began to sting.

he noticed immediately.

“hey.”

he smiled gently.

“don’t cry.”

you laughed through the embarrassing lump in your throat.

“i’m trying not to.”

“good.”

he squeezed your hand once.

“because i’d rather spend tonight learning more about you.”

you smiled.

“that’s funny.”

“why?”

“i was actually hoping to learn more about you.”

he laughed quietly.

“careful.”

“why?”

“i’ve got thirty-eight years’ worth of stories.”

you settled farther into the couch beside him, your shoulder brushing his.

“good.”

he smiled as he looked over at you.

“it’s going to be a long night then.”

“i was hoping it would be.”

and for hours afterward, the two of you stayed curled up on the couch talking about everything that had made you who you were. childhood memories, embarrassing teenage stories, the first time he’d held emma in the hospital and realized nothing in his life would ever matter more than being her father, your grandmother teaching you how to bake pies from scratch, the music both of you loved, the places you still wanted to visit someday. somewhere around midnight, you realized the best part of falling for rafe wasn’t the flowers or the dates or even the way he kissed you.

it was how safe he’d made honesty feel.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dean di laurentis x nerd!reader

summary: you finally realize just how much you like dean back

a/n: im sorry i was gone for so long! ive been focusing on other stuff. thank you guys so much for 300 followers and over 2000 likes on all of my dean writes <3

🏷️: @downbadwellread @cruelsummer01 @hagarsays @kkkkisworld @ihatepeanutss @purplerainx1 @la-28 @mlt2000 @gaebestie @thecraziestcrayon @wearilytemporalsong @legendarychrattgirl @cultish-corner @indigohazardconduit @my-fangirling-outlet

the next morning, you woke up with dean already on your mind.

it wasn’t even a gradual realization. your eyes had barely opened before yesterday came rushing back in vivid detail, replaying behind your eyelids like your brain had decided it deserved a permanent spot in your memory. the tutoring center. the look on the other student’s face when dean called you his girlfriend. the way dean had looked so smug until you’d accused him of being jealous. then the way his confidence had completely cracked for just a second. you buried your face in your pillow with an annoyed groan, mostly because you already knew how the rest of your day was going to go.

you’d spent years making fun of people who got distracted by crushes. hannah had once nearly failed a quiz because she’d been too busy staring at a guy across the classroom, and you’d laughed at her for almost a week. now you couldn’t even brush your teeth without remembering dean leaning against your tutoring table with that irritatingly confident smile. every little thing seemed to remind you of him, and it was beginning to feel less like a coincidence and more like a punishment.

you tried convincing yourself it wasn’t a crush.

it was just surprise.

dean had been unexpectedly nice to you. that was all. anybody would’ve been caught off guard by someone like him paying attention to them. anybody would’ve thought about it afterward. that didn’t automatically mean you liked him. it definitely didn’t mean you liked him enough to spend twenty minutes staring at your closet wondering what to wear in case you accidentally ran into him on campus.

you froze halfway through pulling a sweater over your head.

“…oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

the words slipped out into your empty bedroom before you could stop them. you stood there for another few seconds, sweater tangled around your arms, while the realization slowly settled over you. you weren’t choosing an outfit because you wanted to feel confident today. you were choosing one because somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a tiny, hopeful voice wondering if dean would see you.

that was horrifying.

by the time you met hannah for lunch, you’d spent nearly three hours arguing with yourself and had accomplished absolutely nothing. she took one look at your face from across the student center and immediately smiled into her coffee. you hadn’t even sat down before she shook her head knowingly, and somehow that irritated you even more.

“what?” you asked, dropping your backpack onto the floor.

“nothing.”

“you’re smiling.”

“i am.”

“stop it.”

“honey, i haven’t even said anything yet.”

“exactly. you’re thinking something.”

hannah laughed, taking another sip of her drink before setting it down. “i just think it’s funny.”

“what is?”

“you’ve spent weeks insisting dean doesn’t actually like you.”

you frowned.

“and?”

“and now you’re the one who looks completely distracted.”

you looked down at the table, absentmindedly peeling the wrapper off your straw. “i’m not distracted.”

“you’ve been stirring an empty coffee for the last thirty seconds.”

your eyes dropped to the cup in your hands.

she was right.

there wasn’t any coffee left.

“…that’s irrelevant.”

“it’s incredibly relevant.”

you sighed dramatically and leaned back in your chair. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“i do.”

“hannah.”

“you like him.”

three simple words.

they landed in the middle of your chest like a brick.

your immediate instinct was to deny it. the word no sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to come flying out without a second thought. except… it didn’t. somehow, for the first time since dean had started talking to you, you couldn’t make yourself say it.

because it would’ve been a lie.

you did like him.

you liked the way he always noticed when you were uncomfortable before anyone else did. you liked that he actually listened when you talked instead of waiting for his turn to speak. you liked that he’d remembered tiny details from conversations you’d forgotten having. you liked that he’d tracked you down when you kept avoiding him instead of deciding you weren’t worth the effort. most of all, you liked the look on his face yesterday when another guy had been flirting with you. dean hadn’t looked possessive in an arrogant way. he’d looked genuinely bothered, and for some reason, that mattered more than it probably should have.

“honey?”

you blinked.

“hmm?”

“you’ve been staring at the wall.”

your cheeks warmed.

“sorry.”

hannah’s smile softened. “you’re thinking about him.”

“…maybe.”

“that’s the closest thing to a confession i’ve ever gotten from you.”

you laughed quietly, rubbing your forehead with one hand. “i think i’m in trouble.”

“why?”

“because i really, really like him.”

saying it out loud made it feel real.

you’d admitted crushes before. middle school crushes. celebrity crushes. the occasional guy from class who you’d think was cute for two weeks before completely forgetting about him. this wasn’t like that. dean had somehow worked his way into your thoughts without you noticing. somewhere between the party and yesterday afternoon, he’d stopped being the cocky hockey player everyone talked about and become… dean. the guy who teased you for color-coding your notes but secretly thought it was adorable. the guy who’d spent half an hour sitting on a dusty library floor just because you were there. the guy who smiled differently when it was just the two of you.

“honey.”

“what?”

“you’re smiling.”

your eyebrows pulled together.

“i am?”

“honey, you’re practically glowing.”

you immediately covered your face with both hands.

“don’t say that.”

“why not?”

“because it makes me sound ridiculous.”

“you are ridiculous.”

you peeked at her through your fingers.

“thanks.”

“you’re welcome.”

she reached across the table and gently pulled your hands away from your face. “can i ask you something?”

“i guess.”

“if dean walked in here right now and asked you out, what would you say?”

you opened your mouth.

closed it.

thought about pretending to be unsure.

then sighed.

“…yes.”

hannah grinned so widely it was almost concerning.

“i knew it.”

“please don’t be smug.”

“i’ve earned the right.”

“you really haven’t.”

before she could answer, your phone buzzed against the table.

both of you looked down.

your stomach immediately flipped.

dean.

just seeing his name on the screen made your heart race in a way that honestly felt unfair. you hadn’t saved his contact with a heart or some embarrassing nickname. it was simply “dean,” yet somehow those four letters managed to make your pulse stumble anyway.

hannah noticed the change in your expression immediately.

“is it him?”

you nodded once.

she practically bounced in her seat

“open it.”

you hesitated for a second before unlocking your phone.

dean: are you avoiding me today, or do i actually get to see you?

your lips twitched before you could stop them.

“honey.”

“don’t.”

“you’re smiling again.”

you rolled your eyes, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it. your thumbs hovered over the keyboard while your brain worked overtime. every response suddenly sounded stupid. too eager. too cold. too obvious. after nearly a full minute of overthinking, you finally typed out the simplest thing you could think of.

you: i’m not avoiding you.

the three little typing dots appeared almost immediately.

then disappeared.

then came back.

finally, another message popped onto your screen.

dean: good. because i was planning on finding you anyway.

you stared at the text for several long seconds.

your heart felt impossibly light

“hannah.”

she leaned across the table.

“what’d he say?”

instead of answering, you simply slid your phone across the table toward her.

she read the message once.

then again.

then looked up at you with the most satisfied expression you’d ever seen.

“he likes you just as much as you like him.”

you bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying and failing to hide the smile spreading across your face. for the first time since this whole ridiculous situation had started, you stopped trying to convince yourself it wasn’t happening. you liked dean di laurentis. a lot more than you probably should have. and judging by the text sitting on your screen, he wasn’t planning on letting you disappear anytime soon.

for reasons you still couldn’t explain, that thought didn’t scare you anymore.

it just made you excited to see him again.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dean di laurentis x nerd!reader

summary: you finally realize just how much you like dean back

a/n: im sorry i was gone for so long! ive been focusing on other stuff. thank you guys so much for 300 followers and over 2000 likes on all of my dean writes <3

🏷️: @downbadwellread @cruelsummer01 @hagarsays @kkkkisworld @ihatepeanutss @purplerainx1 @la-28 @mlt2000 @gaebestie @thecraziestcrayon @wearilytemporalsong @legendarychrattgirl @cultish-corner @indigohazardconduit @my-fangirling-outlet

the next morning, you woke up with dean already on your mind.

it wasn’t even a gradual realization. your eyes had barely opened before yesterday came rushing back in vivid detail, replaying behind your eyelids like your brain had decided it deserved a permanent spot in your memory. the tutoring center. the look on the other student’s face when dean called you his girlfriend. the way dean had looked so smug until you’d accused him of being jealous. then the way his confidence had completely cracked for just a second. you buried your face in your pillow with an annoyed groan, mostly because you already knew how the rest of your day was going to go.

you’d spent years making fun of people who got distracted by crushes. hannah had once nearly failed a quiz because she’d been too busy staring at a guy across the classroom, and you’d laughed at her for almost a week. now you couldn’t even brush your teeth without remembering dean leaning against your tutoring table with that irritatingly confident smile. every little thing seemed to remind you of him, and it was beginning to feel less like a coincidence and more like a punishment.

you tried convincing yourself it wasn’t a crush.

it was just surprise.

dean had been unexpectedly nice to you. that was all. anybody would’ve been caught off guard by someone like him paying attention to them. anybody would’ve thought about it afterward. that didn’t automatically mean you liked him. it definitely didn’t mean you liked him enough to spend twenty minutes staring at your closet wondering what to wear in case you accidentally ran into him on campus.

you froze halfway through pulling a sweater over your head.

“…oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

the words slipped out into your empty bedroom before you could stop them. you stood there for another few seconds, sweater tangled around your arms, while the realization slowly settled over you. you weren’t choosing an outfit because you wanted to feel confident today. you were choosing one because somewhere in the back of your mind, there was a tiny, hopeful voice wondering if dean would see you.

that was horrifying.

by the time you met hannah for lunch, you’d spent nearly three hours arguing with yourself and had accomplished absolutely nothing. she took one look at your face from across the student center and immediately smiled into her coffee. you hadn’t even sat down before she shook her head knowingly, and somehow that irritated you even more.

“what?” you asked, dropping your backpack onto the floor.

“nothing.”

“you’re smiling.”

“i am.”

“stop it.”

“honey, i haven’t even said anything yet.”

“exactly. you’re thinking something.”

hannah laughed, taking another sip of her drink before setting it down. “i just think it’s funny.”

“what is?”

“you’ve spent weeks insisting dean doesn’t actually like you.”

you frowned.

“and?”

“and now you’re the one who looks completely distracted.”

you looked down at the table, absentmindedly peeling the wrapper off your straw. “i’m not distracted.”

“you’ve been stirring an empty coffee for the last thirty seconds.”

your eyes dropped to the cup in your hands.

she was right.

there wasn’t any coffee left.

“…that’s irrelevant.”

“it’s incredibly relevant.”

you sighed dramatically and leaned back in your chair. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“i do.”

“hannah.”

“you like him.”

three simple words.

they landed in the middle of your chest like a brick.

your immediate instinct was to deny it. the word no sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to come flying out without a second thought. except… it didn’t. somehow, for the first time since dean had started talking to you, you couldn’t make yourself say it.

because it would’ve been a lie.

you did like him.

you liked the way he always noticed when you were uncomfortable before anyone else did. you liked that he actually listened when you talked instead of waiting for his turn to speak. you liked that he’d remembered tiny details from conversations you’d forgotten having. you liked that he’d tracked you down when you kept avoiding him instead of deciding you weren’t worth the effort. most of all, you liked the look on his face yesterday when another guy had been flirting with you. dean hadn’t looked possessive in an arrogant way. he’d looked genuinely bothered, and for some reason, that mattered more than it probably should have.

“honey?”

you blinked.

“hmm?”

“you’ve been staring at the wall.”

your cheeks warmed.

“sorry.”

hannah’s smile softened. “you’re thinking about him.”

“…maybe.”

“that’s the closest thing to a confession i’ve ever gotten from you.”

you laughed quietly, rubbing your forehead with one hand. “i think i’m in trouble.”

“why?”

“because i really, really like him.”

saying it out loud made it feel real.

you’d admitted crushes before. middle school crushes. celebrity crushes. the occasional guy from class who you’d think was cute for two weeks before completely forgetting about him. this wasn’t like that. dean had somehow worked his way into your thoughts without you noticing. somewhere between the party and yesterday afternoon, he’d stopped being the cocky hockey player everyone talked about and become… dean. the guy who teased you for color-coding your notes but secretly thought it was adorable. the guy who’d spent half an hour sitting on a dusty library floor just because you were there. the guy who smiled differently when it was just the two of you.

“honey.”

“what?”

“you’re smiling.”

your eyebrows pulled together.

“i am?”

“honey, you’re practically glowing.”

you immediately covered your face with both hands.

“don’t say that.”

“why not?”

“because it makes me sound ridiculous.”

“you are ridiculous.”

you peeked at her through your fingers.

“thanks.”

“you’re welcome.”

she reached across the table and gently pulled your hands away from your face. “can i ask you something?”

“i guess.”

“if dean walked in here right now and asked you out, what would you say?”

you opened your mouth.

closed it.

thought about pretending to be unsure.

then sighed.

“…yes.”

hannah grinned so widely it was almost concerning.

“i knew it.”

“please don’t be smug.”

“i’ve earned the right.”

“you really haven’t.”

before she could answer, your phone buzzed against the table.

both of you looked down.

your stomach immediately flipped.

dean.

just seeing his name on the screen made your heart race in a way that honestly felt unfair. you hadn’t saved his contact with a heart or some embarrassing nickname. it was simply “dean,” yet somehow those four letters managed to make your pulse stumble anyway.

hannah noticed the change in your expression immediately.

“is it him?”

you nodded once.

she practically bounced in her seat

“open it.”

you hesitated for a second before unlocking your phone.

dean: are you avoiding me today, or do i actually get to see you?

your lips twitched before you could stop them.

“honey.”

“don’t.”

“you’re smiling again.”

you rolled your eyes, though there wasn’t much conviction behind it. your thumbs hovered over the keyboard while your brain worked overtime. every response suddenly sounded stupid. too eager. too cold. too obvious. after nearly a full minute of overthinking, you finally typed out the simplest thing you could think of.

you: i’m not avoiding you.

the three little typing dots appeared almost immediately.

then disappeared.

then came back.

finally, another message popped onto your screen.

dean: good. because i was planning on finding you anyway.

you stared at the text for several long seconds.

your heart felt impossibly light

“hannah.”

she leaned across the table.

“what’d he say?”

instead of answering, you simply slid your phone across the table toward her.

she read the message once.

then again.

then looked up at you with the most satisfied expression you’d ever seen.

“he likes you just as much as you like him.”

you bit down on the inside of your cheek, trying and failing to hide the smile spreading across your face. for the first time since this whole ridiculous situation had started, you stopped trying to convince yourself it wasn’t happening. you liked dean di laurentis. a lot more than you probably should have. and judging by the text sitting on your screen, he wasn’t planning on letting you disappear anytime soon.

for reasons you still couldn’t explain, that thought didn’t scare you anymore.

it just made you excited to see him again.

[cameronsfawn]

Omggg !! Im so here for old fashioned!reader x dilf!rafe you write it beautifully!

thank you so much!! <333

[cameronsfawn]

Hi!! Could you add my side blog to your Off Campus taglist? (All characters I’m obsessed heehee)

It’s @my-fangirling-outlet

of course !!! <3

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dilf!rafe x vintage!reader

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend because he thought you were too “old school”, you meet an older man at a bar who seems very interested.

a/n: first rafe fic!! join the taglist <3

🏷️: @downbadwellread

the breakup should have hurt more than it did.

instead, you mostly just felt annoyed.

you sat alone in your favorite little diner the morning after, stirring cream into your coffee while replaying the argument over and over again. your ex had spent nearly twenty minutes listing all the reasons you were “too much.” apparently liking handwritten letters instead of texts was too much. wearing dresses instead of leggings was too much. wanting flowers for no reason other than the fact they were pretty was too much. wanting a man to actually plan dates instead of asking what you wanted to do every single weekend was too much.

“you’re like a fifty-year-old woman trapped in a twenty-something’s body,” he’d snapped.

and honestly?

good.

if having standards made you old-fashioned, then so be it.

the problem was that hearing it from someone you’d spent nearly two years loving still left an ugly ache in your chest. it followed you through the rest of the week until friday night found you sitting at a dimly lit bar downtown, nursing a cocktail you barely touched while a jazz record crackled softly through the speakers overhead. the place was exactly your style. dark wood, amber lighting, old music, actual conversation instead of people screaming over club music. most people your age hated it.

you loved it.

which was why you didn’t immediately notice the man watching you.

he was sitting several stools away at first, broad shoulders filling out a navy button-down with the sleeves rolled to his forearms. older. definitely older. not old, but mature in a way that made every man in their twenties suddenly seem unfinished. his dark blond hair was slightly messy, a few strands falling across his forehead, and there was something effortlessly confident about him. no peacocking. no trying too hard. just the quiet certainty of a man comfortable in his own skin.

you caught him looking and quickly glanced away.

then looked back.

he was still looking.

and smiling.

heat crawled up your neck.

a few minutes later, he appeared beside you.

“you’ve been staring into that drink for fifteen minutes,” he said, his voice deep and warm. “starting to think you don’t actually like it.”

you laughed before you could stop yourself.

“maybe i don’t.”

“then why keep drinking it?”

“because i paid fourteen dollars for it.”

his grin widened immediately.

“that’s a fair answer.”

you found yourself smiling too.

the conversation came easier than it should have. his name was rafe. he was older than you by more than a decade, owned several businesses, had a daughter who apparently thought she ran his entire life, and possessed the kind of confidence that made you want to keep listening whenever he spoke. unlike every guy you’d dated recently, he didn’t spend the entire conversation talking about himself. he asked questions. remembered your answers. actually listened.

and when you casually mentioned your breakup, his eyebrow lifted.

“let me guess,” he said.

you laughed. “go ahead.”

“he thought you expected too much.”

your eyes widened.

“how did you know that?”

“because you’re sitting in a dress from another decade drinking a cocktail in a jazz bar.” amusement danced across his face. “a man would’ve had to be blind not to realize you appreciate effort.”

the simple statement hit harder than it should have.

you stared at him for a moment.

rafe noticed.

“what?”

“nothing.”

“that’s a lie.”

you rolled your eyes.

“it’s just…” you hesitated. “he used to call me high maintenance.”

rafe’s expression changed immediately.

not angry.

not shocked.

just confused.

“wanting effort isn’t high maintenance.”

your throat tightened unexpectedly.

“apparently it is.”

he shook his head.

“no. wanting expensive gifts for no reason is high maintenance. wanting a man to respect you enough to open a door isn’t.” his gaze softened slightly. “sounds like he was lazy.”

you laughed so hard you nearly spilled your drink.

“you don’t even know him.”

“don’t need to.”

for the first time all week, the ache in your chest eased.

the night stretched on around you. people came and went. glasses clinked. music drifted through the room. somehow neither of you noticed how much time had passed until the bartender announced last call.

rafe glanced at his watch and winced.

“well.”

“well.”

neither of you moved.

which made both of you laugh.

when you finally stood, he was already reaching for your coat before you could grab it yourself.

another small thing.

another thing nobody your age ever seemed to do anymore.

outside, the summer air was warm and heavy. city lights reflected off the pavement from an earlier rainstorm, and for a moment neither of you seemed particularly eager to leave.

“can i ask you something?” rafe said.

you nodded.

“how old are you?”

“21.” you told him.

his eyebrows rose slightly.

“and you really like all that old-fashioned stuff?”

“i really do.”

a slow smile spread across his face.

“good.”

“good?”

“because i do too.”

your heart betrayed you by fluttering immediately.

rafe noticed.

of course he noticed.

he stepped closer, not enough to crowd you, just enough that you could smell his cologne.

clean. expensive. comforting.

“i know we just met,” he said quietly, “but i’d like to take you to dinner.”

your breath caught.

“like a date?”

“yes, sweetheart.” his smile turned softer. “like a date.”

the nickname should have felt presumptuous.

instead it made your stomach flip.

you smiled before you could stop yourself.

“you know, most people ask for my number first.”

“i’m old school.”

that made you laugh again.

and when he offered his arm for you to take as he walked you toward your car, you slipped your hand through it without hesitation, realizing that maybe your ex had been right about one thing.

you were old-fashioned.

you just hadn’t been waiting for a younger man to appreciate it.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: sugardaddy!tony x sugarbaby!reader

summary: meeting your sugar daddy in person went way better than expected

a/n: first tony fic! join the taglist <3

you spent the entire train ride trying not to throw up from nerves.

it felt ridiculous considering you had been talking to tony for nearly four months, but texting someone and meeting them in person were two completely different things. online, it had been easy to ignore the reality of it all. easy to pretend he wasn’t one of the richest men on the planet and you weren’t a struggling college student surviving on instant noodles, campus coffee, and whatever spare money remained after tuition payments ripped through your bank account every semester.

when you first made the profile, it had been out of desperation more than anything else. your scholarships weren’t covering enough, your part-time job barely paid minimum wage, and you were tired of staring at your banking app and feeling sick every time the balance dropped lower. then tony stark had messaged you. at first you assumed it was fake. billionaires didn’t just casually appear in your inbox. but somehow it had actually been him, and somehow he had turned out to be funny, charming, and surprisingly easy to talk to

still, that didn’t stop your hands from shaking as you stepped into the restaurant.

the hostess led you toward a private dining area tucked away from the rest of the crowd, and with every step your stomach twisted tighter. what if he hated you in person? what if you said something stupid? what if he took one look at you and immediately regretted every dollar he had ever sent?

then you saw him.

tony was sitting comfortably in his chair with a glass of whiskey in one hand, looking completely relaxed while you felt seconds away from cardiac arrest. he glanced up when he heard footsteps approaching, and the second his eyes landed on you, his entire face changed.

he smiled.

not a polite smile.

not an awkward smile.

a genuine one.

it was warm enough to completely derail every thought in your head.

“well,” he said as he stood, looking you over. “either i’m in the right restaurant or someone accidentally sent a model to my table.

your face immediately burned.

“oh my god.”

“good, she can speak.”

“i’m leaving.”

“you’ve been here six seconds.”

despite yourself, you laughed.

just like that, the tension cracked.

the version of tony you knew through a screen suddenly existed right in front of you, and somehow he was exactly the same. sarcastic. cocky. endlessly entertaining. within minutes the awkwardness started disappearing. by the time appetizers arrived, you were already smiling so much your cheeks hurt.

the conversation flowed effortlessly. he asked about your classes, your professors, the degree you were working toward. unlike most people, he actually seemed interested in the answers. when you complained about a professor assigning three research papers in the same week, he looked genuinely horrified.

“that’s cruel.”

“that’s college.”

“have you considered bribery?”

“with what money?”

“fair point.”

you laughed again, and tony found himself staring for a second longer than he intended.

because the truth was that he had expected tonight to be pleasant.

he had not expected this.

he had not expected you to be so easy to be around.

he had not expected to enjoy every second of the conversation.

and he definitely had not expected to feel strangely protective whenever you casually mentioned skipping meals to save money.

“you do what?” he asked.

you immediately regretted speaking.

“it’s not that bad.”

“you skip meals.”

“sometimes.”

“that’s insane.”

“that’s being a college student.”

tony looked personally offended by the concept.

“absolutely not.”

you laughed into your drink.

“you can’t just ‘absolutely not’ student debt away.”

“watch me.”

“that’s not how the world works.”

“it’s how my world works.”

you rolled your eyes so hard he nearly laughed.

somewhere between dinner and dessert, you realized something unexpected.

you actually liked him.

not because of the money.

not because of the gifts.

not because of the expensive dinners.

you liked talking to him.

you liked how he remembered random details from conversations weeks ago.

you liked how he made you laugh when you were stressed.

you liked how he never treated you like you were stupid.

for someone who could have had absolutely anyone, tony listened to everything you said as though it mattered.

and maybe that was why you found yourself relaxing completely by the end of the night.

when dinner finally ended, neither of you seemed particularly eager to leave.

outside the restaurant, city lights reflected across the pavement while people hurried past in every direction. for a moment neither of you spoke.

then tony shoved his hands into his pockets.

“so.”

“so.”

“i have a question.”

you looked up.

“okay?”

he studied you carefully.

“was this as terrifying as you thought it would be?”

you immediately groaned.

“you have no idea.”

“oh, i do.”

“no, seriously. i almost turned around three times.”

tony laughed.

“good.”

“good?”

“means i’m not the only one.”

you blinked.

“you were nervous?”

“believe it or not, sweetheart, billionaires occasionally get nervous too.”

you stared.

then laughed.

then stared some more.

because somehow, despite the age gap, despite the wealth difference, despite every reason this should have felt strange, standing there with him felt surprisingly easy.

comfortable.

safe.

tony’s expression softened as he looked down at you.

“for the record,” he said quietly, “you exceeded expectations.”

your heart immediately betrayed you.

“that’s a horrible thing to say.”

“why?”

“because now i have to think about what your expectations were.”

he grinned.

“high.”

“you’re impossible.”

“i’ve been told.”

for a second neither of you moved.

then tony gently reached up and brushed a strand of hair away from your face.

the gesture was simple.

careful.

unexpectedly sweet.

and suddenly all the anxiety that had followed you into the restaurant hours ago felt completely ridiculous.

because the meeting hadn’t gone horribly.

it hadn’t been awkward.

it hadn’t been disappointing.

if anything, it had gone dangerously well.

and judging by the look in tony’s eyes, he seemed to be realizing the exact same thing.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dean di laurentis x nerd!reader

summary: dean thinks he knows every girl on campus until you show up to his party with his best friends girlfriend

a/n: join the taglist!

you never should have agreed to come.

that thought had been stuck in your head since hannah practically forced you into her car an hour ago. she had shown up at your house unannounced, walked straight past your excuses, and informed you that you were going to a party whether you liked it or not. apparently spending every friday night at home with a book was becoming “a serious issue” in her eyes. now you stood awkwardly in the middle of a crowded house, clutching a red plastic cup filled with soda you hadn’t touched once, while music blasted so loudly it rattled your ribs. people pushed past you every few seconds, laughing and shouting over one another. you felt completely out of place. your oversized sweater suddenly seemed too warm, your glasses felt crooked, and every time someone glanced in your direction, your stomach twisted itself into another knot.

hannah, meanwhile, looked perfectly comfortable. she always did. she could walk into a room full of strangers and somehow have three new best friends within ten minutes. you envied that about her. she grabbed your wrist before you could retreat toward the nearest corner and tugged you through the crowd. “come on,” she shouted over the music. “garrett’s here.” you immediately knew what that meant. the entire reason she’d wanted to come tonight was because garrett was hosting. hannah had spent the last month pretending she wasn’t interested in him while simultaneously talking about him every single day. before you could protest, she was already weaving through clusters of people toward the back patio where a group of hockey players stood around talking.

garrett spotted her instantly. his face lit up in a way that made it painfully obvious he liked her just as much as she liked him. he pulled her into a quick hug before his attention shifted toward you. “so this is the famous friend?” he asked, smiling warmly. you felt your face heat immediately. hannah talked about you? apparently she did, because she grinned and nodded. “this is y/n.” you lifted your hand in a small wave. “hi.” your voice came out embarrassingly quiet. garrett didn’t seem to mind. he greeted you kindly before turning back toward hannah, already falling into easy conversation with her.

you were preparing to stand there awkwardly and count the minutes until you could go home when you noticed someone watching you.

it wasn’t your imagination, either.

across the patio, leaning against a railing with beau beside him, dean di laurentis was staring directly at you.

you recognized him immediately.

everyone did.

dean was the kind of guy people talked about constantly. girls talked about him because they wanted him. guys talked about him because they wanted to be him. he was handsome in a way that felt unfair, with dark hair falling messily over his forehead and a smile that somehow managed to look both charming and dangerous at the same time. every story you’d ever heard about him involved parties, hookups, or some girl crying over him afterward. as far as you knew, he had flirted with nearly every girl on campus at least once.

except you.

mostly because you spent ninety percent of your time hiding from people like dean di laurentis.

the second your eyes met his, you looked away.

unfortunately, that only seemed to make him more interested.

when you glanced back a few moments later, he wasn’t leaning against the railing anymore.

he was walking toward you.

your stomach dropped.

“hannah,” you hissed.

she looked over. “what?”

“dean’s coming over here.”

instead of being concerned, she looked delighted.

traitor.

by the time dean reached the group, you were actively considering pretending to receive an emergency phone call.

“garrett,” dean greeted casually.

“dean.”

they exchanged a quick nod before dean’s attention shifted to you. not past you. not around you. directly at you.

his eyes lingered.

you immediately wanted to disappear.

“and who’s this?” he asked.

before you could answer, hannah spoke for you.

dean repeated your name slowly, almost thoughtfully. somehow hearing it in his voice made your heartbeat speed up. “pretty name.”

your entire brain short-circuited.

garrett started laughing.

hannah looked like she was trying not to scream.

you stood there frozen.

“thanks,” you finally managed.

dean smiled.

god.

that smile should have come with a warning label.

instead of leaving after the introduction, he stayed. then he started asking questions. normal questions. where you were from. what your major was. whether you were enjoying the party. that last one made you laugh accidentally.

“what?”

you shook your head. “sorry. i’m definitely not enjoying the party.”

dean grinned immediately. “honest.”

“you asked.”

“and you answered.”

“would you rather i lied?”

“nah.” his eyes sparkled with amusement. “i like honest.”

you weren’t sure why that response made your cheeks warm, but it did.

the strangest part wasn’t that dean was talking to you. it was that he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. most conversations you had at parties lasted less than two minutes before people got bored. once they found out you preferred books to drinking and spent weekends studying instead of going out, their interest disappeared almost immediately. dean, however, kept asking questions. when you mentioned reading, he asked what kind of books. when you mentioned your favorite authors, he actually listened. when you rambled nervously about a novel you’d recently finished, he didn’t interrupt or look around the room searching for someone more interesting.

if anything, he seemed more focused on you with every passing minute.

eventually the rest of the group drifted away.

you didn’t even notice at first.

one moment garrett, hannah, and beau were standing nearby. the next, they were gone.

it was just you and dean.

somehow that realization made your pulse jump higher than before.

the two of you ended up sitting on a pair of chairs near the edge of the patio where the music wasn’t quite as deafening. the cool night air felt nice against your warm face. dean leaned back casually, one arm draped across the back of his chair, while you sat curled slightly inward like you always did around people. despite that, conversation flowed surprisingly easily. dean had a way of making everything feel less intimidating. he teased you occasionally, but never cruelly. every joke felt light and playful. every smile felt genuine.

“so let me get this straight,” he said after listening to you describe one of your favorite books. “you willingly read nine hundred pages for fun?”

you laughed.

actually laughed.

the sound surprised both of you.

dean’s smile immediately widened.

“there it is.”

you blinked. “what?”

“your laugh.”

you groaned and covered your face.

he laughed softly.

“what? it was cute.”

“please stop talking.”

“not a chance.”

you peeked at him through your fingers and found him already looking at you.

not in the way most guys did.

not like he was checking you out.

he was looking at you like he genuinely enjoyed being around you.

that realization felt far more dangerous.

because you didn’t know what to do with it.

you understood flirting in theory. you had read enough romance novels for that. actually experiencing it was another story entirely. every compliment dean gave you made your thoughts scatter. every time he smiled at you, your heart forgot how to function properly. the worst part was that he seemed completely aware of the effect he was having. not in an arrogant way. more in an amused way.

like he found your reactions adorable.

which only made things worse.

“you know,” dean said after a moment, “you’re different than i expected.”

you frowned.

“you expected something?”

“everyone talks about you.”

that shocked you.

“they do?”

“yeah.”

you stared.

“why?”

he shrugged. “because you’re the mysterious girl who’s friends with hannah and somehow never comes to any parties.”

“that’s ridiculous.”

“maybe.”

you rolled your eyes.

dean’s grin softened.

“i’m serious, though.”

for the first time all evening, there wasn’t any teasing in his voice.

just sincerity.

“i’m glad you came tonight.”

your breath caught.

the words shouldn’t have affected you that much.

but they did.

because dean wasn’t saying them casually.

he meant them.

you could tell.

for a moment neither of you spoke. the sounds of the party faded into the background. people moved around the yard, music played somewhere inside the house, laughter echoed from the pool, but it all felt distant. dean’s eyes stayed locked on yours.

then he smiled.

small

soft.

different from the confident grin he’d been wearing all night.

and somehow that smile affected you more than any of the others.

“you’re blushing again,” he pointed out.

you immediately looked away.

he laughed quietly.

“cute.”

“dean.”

“yeah?”

“you’re impossible.”

his smile widened.

“you still haven’t told me to stop.”

the embarrassing thing was that you didn’t want him to.

and judging by the look on dean’s face, he knew it.

that realization sent your heart racing all over again.

somewhere behind you, hannah let out a squeal that sounded suspiciously excited.

you buried your face in your hands.

dean laughed.

and for the rest of the night, he never once stopped looking at you like you were the most interesting girl at the party.

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dean di laurentis x nerd!reader

summary: after you continue to avoid him, dean finds you tutoring a random guy in your year.

a/n: ask inbox is open <3 thank you all for the love on the dean fics. above 1k notes on both is insane. i love you guys🥹

🏷️: @downbadwellread @cruelsummer01 @hagarsays @kkkkisworld @ihatepeanutss @purplerainx1 @la-28 @mlt2000 @gaebestie

dean only found out you were a tutor because he was skipping class.

if anyone asked, he’d deny it immediately. he had every intention of attending the lecture that afternoon. he really did. unfortunately, beau had convinced him to leave halfway through with the promise of coffee and food, and dean had decided that sounded significantly better than sitting through another hour of listening to a professor talk about material he’d never remember anyway. he was cutting through one of the academic buildings when he happened to glance through an open doorway, and suddenly the rest of his afternoon ceased to matter.

you were sitting at a table near one of the windows, completely surrounded by textbooks. there were highlighters scattered everywhere, color-coded notes spread across the tabletop, and a half-finished coffee sitting beside your elbow. dean had seen you in plenty of situations by now. he’d seen you nervous, embarrassed, flustered, and desperately trying to avoid him. he’d never seen you like this. you were talking confidently, explaining something while pointing at a page in a textbook, and for the first time since meeting you, there wasn’t a trace of uncertainty in your expression. you looked comfortable. completely comfortable. honestly, it caught him off guard enough that he stopped walking altogether.

then he noticed the guy sitting across from you.

at first dean didn’t think much of it. obviously there was another student there. tutoring generally required at least two people. but the longer he watched, the more annoyed he became. the guy wasn’t paying attention to a damn thing you were saying. every time you pointed toward the textbook, he’d look for maybe half a second before his eyes drifted back to your face. every time you smiled politely, he smiled like you’d personally handed him the greatest gift of his life. after a few minutes it became painfully obvious that he wasn’t there because he needed help studying. he was there because he liked you.

the worst part was that you clearly had no idea.

you just kept talking.

dean watched you spend nearly ten minutes explaining some concept while the guy stared at you like you hung the moon. every now and then you’d push your glasses back up your nose or laugh softly at something awkward he’d said, and each time the guy looked even more interested. meanwhile, you remained completely oblivious. dean honestly couldn’t decide whether it was adorable or infuriating. probably both.

he should’ve left.

a normal person would’ve left.

instead, he stayed.

the tutoring session eventually ended, and dean found himself lingering in the hallway outside the room. he wasn’t entirely sure why. maybe curiosity. maybe annoyance. maybe something significantly more embarrassing that he wasn’t interested in examining. whatever the reason, he remained exactly where he was as you started gathering your notes and shoving books into your bag.

the guy, unfortunately, made no move to leave.

instead, he leaned against the table and smiled.

dean immediately hated him.

even from across the room, he could tell what was happening. the guy wasn’t subtle. he was leaning closer than necessary, smiling too much, finding excuses to keep the conversation going even though the tutoring session had clearly ended. you looked slightly confused but polite enough to keep answering him. dean watched the entire thing unfold with growing irritation.

then the guy asked you out.

dean couldn’t hear the exact words, but he didn’t need to.

your expression gave everything away.

you blinked at him.

laughed awkwardly.

then answered in a way that clearly suggested you hadn’t realized he’d been flirting.

the guy tried again.

somehow you still didn’t get it

dean actually rubbed a hand over his face.

it was unbelievable.

you could analyze books, ace exams, tutor half the campus, and somehow remain completely incapable of recognizing when somebody was interested in you.

the guy tried a third time.

that was apparently dean’s limit.

before he could think better of it, he pushed open the door and walked inside.

you looked up immediately.

your entire face changed the second you saw him.

surprise.

confusion.

then suspicion.

dean ignored all three.

he walked straight over to your table and stopped beside your chair. the guy looked annoyed by the interruption. good. dean hoped he was annoyed.

“there you are,” dean said casually

you stared.

“dean?”

he smiled down at you before looking at the guy.

the guy looked back.

something immediately shifted.

it wasn’t loud or dramatic. it was just one of those silent male conversations that happened entirely through eye contact. dean knew exactly what the other guy was thinking because he’d been in his position before. who the hell is this? why does he know her? why is he standing so close?

dean enjoyed every second of it.

“you ready?” he asked.

your eyebrows furrowed.

“ready for what?”

for a second, dean thought he’d have to explain himself.

then understanding flashed across your face.

slowly.

very slowly.

you finally realized what he was doing.

the guy noticed it too.

“wait,” he interrupted. “you two know each other?”

dean almost laughed.

know each other.

right.

he looked down at you.

then back at the guy.

“yeah,” he said. “she’s my girlfriend.”

the lie came out far too easily.

the second it left his mouth, the room went completely silent.

you froze.

the guy froze.

dean remained annoyingly calm.

the student’s expression visibly fell apart. disappointment hit him so hard it was practically painful to watch. dean would’ve felt bad if he wasn’t too busy enjoying himself.

“oh.”

that was all the guy managed.

just oh.

dean nearly smiled.

you were still staring at him.

he could feel it.

could practically hear the questions bouncing around inside your head.

what are you doing?

why are you doing this?

have you completely lost your mind?

all reasonable questions.

dean planned on ignoring every single one of them.

the guy awkwardly gathered his things, muttered something about seeing you later, and practically fled the room. dean waited until he disappeared completely before finally looking back down at you.

the second your eyes met his, you narrowed them.

“your girlfriend?”

dean shrugged.

“seemed effective.”

“effective?”

“he left, didn’t he?”

your mouth actually fell open.

for a second you seemed genuinely speechless.

then realization hit.

dean watched it happen in real time.

the way your eyes widened.

the way your expression changed.

the way you suddenly looked entirely too pleased with yourself.

oh no.

you’d figured it out.

“dean.”

“what?”

“were you jealous?”

he laughed immediately.

mostly because the alternative was admitting the truth.

“don’t start.”

“you were.”

“i wasn’t.”

“you absolutely were.”

you sounded delighted.

which was unfortunate.

because you were right.

dean leaned against the table and looked away for a moment, already regretting every decision that had led him here. the worst part was that he’d walked into the room fully intending to play it cool. somehow he’d ended up pretending to be your boyfriend in front of another guy and exposing himself in the process.

meanwhile, you looked happier than he’d seen you all week.

your smile was impossible to miss.

and suddenly dean couldn’t remember why he’d been annoyed in the first place.

he just knew he was staring at you again.

staring long enough that your smile slowly faded.

long enough that the teasing disappeared from your expression.

long enough for the air between you to become something else entirely.

neither of you spoke.

you simply looked at each other across the table, surrounded by forgotten textbooks and scattered notes.

for the first time since walking into the room, dean realized he didn’t regret what he’d done.

not even a little.

because pretending to be your boyfriend had been surprisingly easy.

a little too easy, actually.

and judging by the way you were looking at him now, he wasn’t the only one who’d noticed.

[cameronsfawn]

thank you guys so much!!!! i cant believe i gained 100 followers in less than a week. idk if this is basic gain for tumblr but thank you!

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dean di laurentis x nerd!reader

summary: after avoiding dean for days, he finally finds you

a/n: i take requests!! please don’t be afraid to send in anons. i would love kind or helpful words <3

🏷️: @downbadwellread @cruelsummer01 @hagarsays

avoiding dean turned out to be much harder than you expected.

the first day had been easy enough. after all, campus was huge, and dean wasn’t exactly a fixture in your daily routine. before the party, you could go weeks without seeing him. now, unfortunately, you noticed him everywhere. maybe it was because your brain had decided to betray you. every flash of dark hair in your peripheral vision made your heart jump before common sense reminded you it wasn’t him. every laugh that sounded remotely similar had your attention snapping up from whatever textbook you were pretending to focus on. it was embarrassing, honestly. even worse, hannah noticed immediately.

she was sitting across from you in the student center two days after the party when you abruptly cut yourself off mid-sentence and looked over her shoulder. your reaction lasted less than a second, but it was enough. dean had just walked through the doors surrounded by a group of friends, and before he’d even had the chance to look in your direction, you were already shoving your notebook into your bag.

“absolutely not,” hannah said.

you froze.

“hannah.”

“absolutely not.”

you sighed heavily and slung the bag over your shoulder. “i have somewhere to be.”

“you’re lying.”

“i’m not.”

“you literally don’t.”

you opened your mouth.

closed it.

then opened it again.

hannah pointed triumphantly. “see?”

you hated when she was right

unfortunately, she was right often.

“i’m not avoiding him.”

the look she gave you could have melted steel.

“i’m not.”

“honey, if you avoided serial killers with the same dedication you’re avoiding dean di laurentis, crime rates would hit zero.”

you groaned and stood before she could continue. ignoring her protests, you headed for the nearest exit without looking back. it wasn’t mature. it wasn’t reasonable. but neither was the way your stomach had immediately dropped the second you’d seen dean enter the room.

because that was the problem.

if dean had been exactly what you’d expected, this would’ve been easy.

if he’d flirted with you for an hour at the party and moved on to the next girl, you would’ve rolled your eyes and forgotten about him by morning. that’s what people like dean did. they charmed everyone. they collected attention like trophies. they never stayed interested for long enough to matter.

except dean hadn’t done that.

he’d texted.

twice.

then three times.

then more.

nothing creepy. nothing weird. stupid little things throughout the day. a picture of a dog he’d passed on campus because you’d mentioned liking dogs. a complaint about one of his professors. a blurry photo of a textbook accompanied by the message “look, i’m studying. are you proud of me?” somehow that had made things infinitely worse.

because it felt real.

and real was terrifying.

you’d spent years mastering invisibility. it wasn’t intentional at first, but eventually it became comfortable. people overlooked you all the time. teachers forgot you were in class. classmates forgot your name. boys definitely forgot you existed. there was safety in that. safety in being unnoticed.

dean noticed everything.

which was why, three days later, you found yourself hiding in the oldest section of the campus library like some sort of fugitive.

it was ridiculous.

even you knew it was ridiculous.

the fourth floor was nearly empty, tucked away in a wing nobody used anymore. half the shelves contained books older than your parents. the lights were dimmer there. quieter. safer. you had been sitting cross-legged on the floor between two shelves for almost an hour, completely absorbed in a novel and blissfully unaware of the fact that somebody was approaching.

the shadow appeared first.

you frowned.

libraries weren’t supposed to have shadows.

slowly, you looked up and nearly had a heart attack.

dean stood at the end of the aisle with his hands shoved into his pockets.

just stood there.

looking at you.

for a solid five seconds neither of you moved.

then dean tilted his head.

“seriously?”

your face immediately burned.

“what are you doing here?”

he laughed.

actually laughed.

the sound echoed softly through the empty aisle.

“that’s your first question?”

“yes.”

“not ‘how did you find me?’”

you immediately regretted asking.

because now you wanted the answer to that question too.

dean stepped further into the aisle, looking around dramatically before his gaze settled back on you. “you know, i thought hannah was exaggerating.”

“about what?”

“the hiding.”

you groaned.

dean pointed around the aisle.

“you are literally sitting on the floor between bookshelves.”

“i like books.”

“you are hiding.”

“it’s called reading.”

“it’s called hiding.”

you looked away.

which was apparently all the confirmation he needed.

the amusement faded slightly from his expression as he leaned against the shelf opposite you. for the first time since you’d met him, dean looked genuinely frustrated. not angry. just frustrated enough to have spent the better part of an afternoon tracking you down across campus.

“did i do something?”

the question caught you off guard.

you blinked.

dean shrugged one shoulder.

“seriously. because if i did, just tell me.”

suddenly the conversation wasn’t funny anymore.

your fingers tightened around the edge of your book.

because that was the thing.

he had done something.

he’d been nice.

he’d remembered things you told him.

he’d looked at you like you mattered.

and somehow that was so much scarier than him being a jerk

because if dean was awful, you could hate him.

instead you liked him.

and that felt like standing at the edge of a cliff.

dean watched your expression change.

watched you look away.

watched the silence stretch.

then something clicked behind his eyes.

understanding.

slowly, he exhaled.

“oh.”

your stomach dropped.

“oh what?”

a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

not smug.

not cocky.

soft.

almost fond.

“you’re scared.”

your heart stopped.

because somehow, impossibly, he was right.

[cameronsfawn]

dean di laurentis x nerd!reader masterlist

ꨄ Meet Cute

ꨄ Avoiding

ꨄ Tutor

[cameronsfawn]

pairing: dean di laurentis x nerd!reader

summary: dean thinks he knows every girl on campus until you show up to his party with his best friends girlfriend

a/n: join the taglist!

you never should have agreed to come.

that thought had been stuck in your head since hannah practically forced you into her car an hour ago. she had shown up at your house unannounced, walked straight past your excuses, and informed you that you were going to a party whether you liked it or not. apparently spending every friday night at home with a book was becoming “a serious issue” in her eyes. now you stood awkwardly in the middle of a crowded house, clutching a red plastic cup filled with soda you hadn’t touched once, while music blasted so loudly it rattled your ribs. people pushed past you every few seconds, laughing and shouting over one another. you felt completely out of place. your oversized sweater suddenly seemed too warm, your glasses felt crooked, and every time someone glanced in your direction, your stomach twisted itself into another knot.

hannah, meanwhile, looked perfectly comfortable. she always did. she could walk into a room full of strangers and somehow have three new best friends within ten minutes. you envied that about her. she grabbed your wrist before you could retreat toward the nearest corner and tugged you through the crowd. “come on,” she shouted over the music. “garrett’s here.” you immediately knew what that meant. the entire reason she’d wanted to come tonight was because garrett was hosting. hannah had spent the last month pretending she wasn’t interested in him while simultaneously talking about him every single day. before you could protest, she was already weaving through clusters of people toward the back patio where a group of hockey players stood around talking.

garrett spotted her instantly. his face lit up in a way that made it painfully obvious he liked her just as much as she liked him. he pulled her into a quick hug before his attention shifted toward you. “so this is the famous friend?” he asked, smiling warmly. you felt your face heat immediately. hannah talked about you? apparently she did, because she grinned and nodded. “this is y/n.” you lifted your hand in a small wave. “hi.” your voice came out embarrassingly quiet. garrett didn’t seem to mind. he greeted you kindly before turning back toward hannah, already falling into easy conversation with her.

you were preparing to stand there awkwardly and count the minutes until you could go home when you noticed someone watching you.

it wasn’t your imagination, either.

across the patio, leaning against a railing with beau beside him, dean di laurentis was staring directly at you.

you recognized him immediately.

everyone did.

dean was the kind of guy people talked about constantly. girls talked about him because they wanted him. guys talked about him because they wanted to be him. he was handsome in a way that felt unfair, with dark hair falling messily over his forehead and a smile that somehow managed to look both charming and dangerous at the same time. every story you’d ever heard about him involved parties, hookups, or some girl crying over him afterward. as far as you knew, he had flirted with nearly every girl on campus at least once.

except you.

mostly because you spent ninety percent of your time hiding from people like dean di laurentis.

the second your eyes met his, you looked away.

unfortunately, that only seemed to make him more interested.

when you glanced back a few moments later, he wasn’t leaning against the railing anymore.

he was walking toward you.

your stomach dropped.

“hannah,” you hissed.

she looked over. “what?”

“dean’s coming over here.”

instead of being concerned, she looked delighted.

traitor.

by the time dean reached the group, you were actively considering pretending to receive an emergency phone call.

“garrett,” dean greeted casually.

“dean.”

they exchanged a quick nod before dean’s attention shifted to you. not past you. not around you. directly at you.

his eyes lingered.

you immediately wanted to disappear.

“and who’s this?” he asked.

before you could answer, hannah spoke for you.

dean repeated your name slowly, almost thoughtfully. somehow hearing it in his voice made your heartbeat speed up. “pretty name.”

your entire brain short-circuited.

garrett started laughing.

hannah looked like she was trying not to scream.

you stood there frozen.

“thanks,” you finally managed.

dean smiled.

god.

that smile should have come with a warning label.

instead of leaving after the introduction, he stayed. then he started asking questions. normal questions. where you were from. what your major was. whether you were enjoying the party. that last one made you laugh accidentally.

“what?”

you shook your head. “sorry. i’m definitely not enjoying the party.”

dean grinned immediately. “honest.”

“you asked.”

“and you answered.”

“would you rather i lied?”

“nah.” his eyes sparkled with amusement. “i like honest.”

you weren’t sure why that response made your cheeks warm, but it did.

the strangest part wasn’t that dean was talking to you. it was that he seemed genuinely interested in what you had to say. most conversations you had at parties lasted less than two minutes before people got bored. once they found out you preferred books to drinking and spent weekends studying instead of going out, their interest disappeared almost immediately. dean, however, kept asking questions. when you mentioned reading, he asked what kind of books. when you mentioned your favorite authors, he actually listened. when you rambled nervously about a novel you’d recently finished, he didn’t interrupt or look around the room searching for someone more interesting.

if anything, he seemed more focused on you with every passing minute.

eventually the rest of the group drifted away.

you didn’t even notice at first.

one moment garrett, hannah, and beau were standing nearby. the next, they were gone.

it was just you and dean.

somehow that realization made your pulse jump higher than before.

the two of you ended up sitting on a pair of chairs near the edge of the patio where the music wasn’t quite as deafening. the cool night air felt nice against your warm face. dean leaned back casually, one arm draped across the back of his chair, while you sat curled slightly inward like you always did around people. despite that, conversation flowed surprisingly easily. dean had a way of making everything feel less intimidating. he teased you occasionally, but never cruelly. every joke felt light and playful. every smile felt genuine.

“so let me get this straight,” he said after listening to you describe one of your favorite books. “you willingly read nine hundred pages for fun?”

you laughed.

actually laughed.

the sound surprised both of you.

dean’s smile immediately widened.

“there it is.”

you blinked. “what?”

“your laugh.”

you groaned and covered your face.

he laughed softly.

“what? it was cute.”

“please stop talking.”

“not a chance.”

you peeked at him through your fingers and found him already looking at you.

not in the way most guys did.

not like he was checking you out.

he was looking at you like he genuinely enjoyed being around you.

that realization felt far more dangerous.

because you didn’t know what to do with it.

you understood flirting in theory. you had read enough romance novels for that. actually experiencing it was another story entirely. every compliment dean gave you made your thoughts scatter. every time he smiled at you, your heart forgot how to function properly. the worst part was that he seemed completely aware of the effect he was having. not in an arrogant way. more in an amused way.

like he found your reactions adorable.

which only made things worse.

“you know,” dean said after a moment, “you’re different than i expected.”

you frowned.

“you expected something?”

“everyone talks about you.”

that shocked you.

“they do?”

“yeah.”

you stared.

“why?”

he shrugged. “because you’re the mysterious girl who’s friends with hannah and somehow never comes to any parties.”

“that’s ridiculous.”

“maybe.”

you rolled your eyes.

dean’s grin softened.

“i’m serious, though.”

for the first time all evening, there wasn’t any teasing in his voice.

just sincerity.

“i’m glad you came tonight.”

your breath caught.

the words shouldn’t have affected you that much.

but they did.

because dean wasn’t saying them casually.

he meant them.

you could tell.

for a moment neither of you spoke. the sounds of the party faded into the background. people moved around the yard, music played somewhere inside the house, laughter echoed from the pool, but it all felt distant. dean’s eyes stayed locked on yours.

then he smiled.

small

soft.

different from the confident grin he’d been wearing all night.

and somehow that smile affected you more than any of the others.

“you’re blushing again,” he pointed out.

you immediately looked away.

he laughed quietly.

“cute.”

“dean.”

“yeah?”

“you’re impossible.”

his smile widened.

“you still haven’t told me to stop.”

the embarrassing thing was that you didn’t want him to.

and judging by the look on dean’s face, he knew it.

that realization sent your heart racing all over again.

somewhere behind you, hannah let out a squeal that sounded suspiciously excited.

you buried your face in your hands.

dean laughed.

and for the rest of the night, he never once stopped looking at you like you were the most interesting girl at the party.

[cameronsfawn]

arranged!husband!bruce x fawn!reader masterlist

ꨄ Arranged

[cameronsfawn]

Taglist ♡

rafe cameron

downbadwellread legendarychrattgirl ssugartalkin angelicameron

jj maybank

bruce wayne

borikentaino luvxtom glitterycroissant kiaraischronicallyonline luvxtom

dick grayson

jason todd

clark kent

barry allen

patrick feely

gerard gibson

johnny kavanagh

joey lynch

hughie biggs

tony stark

peter parker

steve rogers

garrett graham

gaebestie legendarychrattgirl my-fangirling-outlet

dean di laurentis

downbadwellread cruelsummer01 hagarsays kkkkisworld ihatepeanutss purplerainx1 la-28 mlt2000 gaebestie thecraziestcrayon wearilytemporalsong legendarychrattgirl cultish-corner indigohazardconduit my-fangirling-outlet im-delusional-and-that-is-ok

beau maxwell

legendarychrattgirl my-fangirling-outlet

john logan

legendarychrattgirl my-fangirling-outlet

toji fushiguro

megumi fushiguro

gojo saturo

sukuna

simon ghost riley