romeo & juliet
dean di laurentis x fem!reader
summary: you refuse to be another girl on dean di laurentis’ list, but then accidentally become his juliet instead
strangers to lovers
warnings: alcohol consumption, double meet cute, bit of flirty banter, and loads of tension
word count: 4.2k
a/n: based on this request! i hope you like it<3 first official dean fic who’s ready
dean di laurentis masterlist off campus masterlist
── ᵎᵎ ✦
heat clung to the walls, trapped beneath low ceilings and packed bodies, carrying the smell of cheap vodka, cologne and whatever someone had burnt in the kitchen an hour ago. music thundered through every floorboard and the bass was heavy enough to feel in your ribs.
you smiled automatically; this was exactly why you loved parties.
someone called your name from somewhere near the staircase, another person waved a cup in your direction, and someone else was already apologising for bumping into your shoulder before disappearing back into the crowd. conversations overlapped, laughter echoed from upstairs, and every room seemed louder than the last.
you slipped through the kitchen long enough to steal a drink from a friend who insisted she’d already had enough, earning a dramatic complaint that made you laugh all the way into the living room.
people stood shoulder to shoulder, shouting over music that was far too loud for conversation anyway. someone had climbed onto the coffee table, earning cheers from everyone around them. a group of hockey players occupied one corner, already halfway through another drinking game.
you barely noticed them because your attention had already shifted somewhere else. the music changed and the opening beat was enough, “oh, i love this one.”
your feet were already carrying you towards the middle of the room. you’d never understood people who came to parties just to stand against walls nursing the same drink for three hours. if you were going to be here, you were going to enjoy yourself.
your cup disappeared onto the nearest table and your hair was stuck to the back of your neck almost immediately, but you didn’t care.
another girl recognised the song too and laughed as she grabbed your hands, spinning you once before the two of you dissolved back into the crowd. someone else sang directly into your face despite not knowing half the words. you laughed so hard you nearly stumbled into another group.
the entire room seemed to move together and you loved every second of it.
dean leaned against the doorway separating the living room from the kitchen, absentmindedly rolling the cold bottle between his palms while his teammates argued over something behind him.
someone brushed against his shoulder, “dean.” he glanced over to find a brunette smiling up at him, “wanna get out of here?”
he smiled politely, muttering a “maybe later” and barely noticing when she walked away. his attention had already shifted. it happened because of a laugh that was bright enough to cut through everything else.
his eyes drifted across the room until he found the source. you.
he watched as you danced without an ounce of self-consciousness, completely unaware of anyone around you. there wasn’t anything particularly rehearsed about the way you moved. no stolen glances around the room to see who was looking. no deliberate attempts to draw attention.
if anything, you seemed completely oblivious to it.
you laughed when someone bumped into you. threw your head back when another song blended into the next. spun with a stranger you’d probably never speak to again before immediately losing them in the crowd. you looked like you belonged exactly where you were.
he found himself smiling, “who’s that?”
beau, his best friend, followed his line of sight, “don’t know.”
the blonde kept watching anyway. he told himself he’d look away after another minute … he didn’t. instead, he found himself setting his bottle down on the nearest table before weaving through the crowd.
people moved aside instinctively when they recognised him, but his eyes stayed on you.
you were facing away from him when he finally reached the middle of the room, still completely caught up in the music.
you were laughing at something someone else had done, clapping once before turning slightly— and almost walked straight into him. your eyes widened, “oh my god, sorry.”
his hands instinctively found your hips to steady you as he smiled, “don’t be.”
you looked up properly then, recognition flickering across your face, “dean di laurentis.”
“that’s usually what people call me.”
“good.” you nodded once with a sly smile, “would’ve been awkward if i’d got the wrong hockey player.”
“there are worse fates,” he laughed, his hands still grazing your hips.
“for you, maybe.”
the corner of his mouth lifted, “mind if i join?”
you looked around theatrically, pretending to search for someone else, “don’t see anyone stopping you.”
he stepped closer, “generous.”
the next song started, it was heavier this time; the kind of song that settled low in your chest and made standing still impossible.
your eyes slipped closed for a moment as the bass rolled through the room, your shoulders swaying with the beat before your hips followed naturally. around you, the crowd seemed to breathe as one, bodies packed tightly enough that every movement rippled into the next.
when you opened your eyes again, dean was still there. watching you like he’d forgotten there was an entire party happening around him. you smiled without meaning to, “you gonna stand there all night?”
“thought i’d let the professional work,” one corner of his mouth lifted causing you to let out a quiet laugh, “professional?”
“you look like you’ve done this before.”
“it’s called having fun,” you turned away before he could answer, letting yourself disappear back into the music.
this time he followed. he stepped into your space with an ease that matched your rhythm instead of trying to change it.
he was close enough that every shift of the crowd nudged you together. close enough that you caught the clean scent of his cologne beneath the sweat and alcohol filling the room.
your shoulder brushed his, but neither of you moved away. people squeezed past on either side, compressing the space between you until there was barely any room left. dean glanced down at you, “i get it now”
you smirked and answered by spinning away from him. it was only half a turn, just enough that your back almost met his chest before you faced him again. his eyebrows lifted, “show-off.”
heat climbed your neck, though whether it came from the room or the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t quite tell.
without thinking, you lifted your hands up carefully place them on the back of his neck, your fingers tangling up in his hair. dean kept his eyes focused on you as he put his hands on your hips, barely more than a brush of his fingers.
you looked at him, your lips curling into into a smile as you found his still glued to you.
the rest of the room blurred at the edges as flashing lights painted shifting colours across his face, catching in the faint grin tugging at one corner of his mouth. your breathing steadied as his gaze dropped to your lips for the briefest moment, then back to your eyes. it was so quick you almost convinced yourself you’d imagined it.
the next wave of dancers surged around you, forcing him even closer. something flickered across his face just as another beat rolled through the speakers. without thinking, you mirrored each other’s movements, swaying in easy rhythm, neither leading nor following anymore.
it was somewhere in that silence, after dancing and laughing and never quite stepping away from one another, that dean leaned down just enough for you to hear him over the music.
“come upstairs with me,” the words were quiet, almost swallowed by the music, but they settled between you with surprising weight.
for a moment, neither of you moved as the crowd carried on around you, oblivious. someone bumped your shoulder, muttered a distracted apology, and disappeared again. the lights flashed overhead in uneven bursts, washing dean’s face blue, then red, then back into shadow.
your eyes dropped briefly, watching where the toe of his sneakers nudged yours as the crowd shifted again. you let out a quiet breath, “i knew that’s what this was.”
“what?” his brow furrowed.
“you coming over.”
“it wasn’t.”
“no?”
“no,” the answer came too quickly as you looked back up at him, “i came over because you caught my attention.”
“and now you’re asking me upstairs.”
he held your gaze, “i am.”
you smiled — a small one, softer than before. it wasn’t mocking, if anything, it was almost apologetic. “you know,” you said quietly, “i think everyone was probably right.”
something shifted behind his eyes, “you don’t even know what I was going to ask.”
a tiny laugh escaped you, “i think i do dean” you said his name gently, as though trying to soften what was coming next, “i don’t want to be another girl you take upstairs.”
his jaw flexed once before he looked away, running a hand through his hair, “you really think that’s all i’d see you as?”
“i think that’s what usually happens.” neither of you could pretend it wasn’t true. you’d heard enough stories. seen enough girls leaving hockey parties in oversized sweatshirts the next morning. some smiling, some pretending not to notice the whispers that followed them across campus.
maybe dean had liked all of them. maybe he’d liked none of them. it didn’t really matter because the pattern stayed the same. “you’ve got this…” you searched for the right word, “reputation.”
he laughed once, though it wasn’t amused, “i know, people can’t mind their own business”
you smiled faintly, but shook your head, “they don’t have to, you don’t exactly hide it.”another beat of silence occurred before you continued, “i don’t think you’re a bad guy.”
his mouth twitched and his eyes went over your features as you spoke, “which is why I’m telling you no before this turns into something that ends exactly how everyone expects it to.”
there was no challenge in your face and dean realised then that he wasn’t going to talk you out of it. his chest tightened unexpectedly, “i would’ve called you,” the words left him before he could stop them.
you looked at him for a second. then smiled with a kind of sadness that caught him off guard, “maybe.”
you stepped a little closer, just enough that he could hear you without either of you shouting, “but you don’t know that.”
he opened his mouth to reply but closed it again, because you were right. until he’d crossed the room tonight, he’d been planning to leave with whoever happened to catch his eye. then he’d met you.
you took another step back, “i had a really good time, but i’d rather leave it there.”
the corner of his mouth lifted, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, “you always reject people this politely?”
“only the ones i actually like.”
that earned the smallest laugh from him just as the opening notes of another song rolled through the speakers. you glanced towards the middle of the room, where people were already shouting the lyrics.
dean followed your gaze before looking back at you, “so, you’re really just going back out there?”
you grinned, “i came here to dance.” someone reached for your hand from somewhere in the crowd. a girl tugged you towards her once, laughing when you stumbled. you looked back at dean one last time, “see you around?”
he held your eyes for a beat before nodding, “yeah.”
you gave him a small smile just before being swallowed by flashing lights and moving bodies, laughing as you’d made your way to the middle of the room again.
dean stayed exactly where he was. the staircase was only a few steps behind him and a month ago — hell, an hour ago, he would’ve taken it without a second thought. instead, he found himself watching you disappear into the crowd.
you never looked back and, somehow, that was the first thing all night that made him want to chase after someone.
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ
midterms had swallowed most of campus whole, your group chat would somehow turned into an argument every single day, and by friday evening you were thinking of escaping to a far away island.
“i still don’t understand what drunk shakespeare actually is,” your friend said as the four of you walked towards the theatre.
you shrugged, “from what i’ve heard? chaos.”the queue already stretched outside the entrance, students talking over one another while someone in costume wandered through the crowd carrying what looked suspiciously like a plastic skull, “this already feels ridiculous.”
inside, it somehow got worse … or better.
candles flickered across tiny tables, actors wandered between audience members before the show had even started, and somewhere near the stage someone was already arguing with a man dressed as mercutio.
you were still laughing when you heard a familiar voice behind you, “look who we’ve got here.”you turned to find dean standing a minor three feet away. his hands disappeared into the pockets of a navy hoodie, a crooked smile already spreading across his face, “you following me?”
you laughed, “pretty sure i got here first.”
as he smirked at your statement you realized there wasn’t any awkwardness. the last conversation you’d had should’ve made this uncomfortable. instead, it felt strangely easy, “you’ve been avoiding hockey parties?” he asked.
“have you been looking for me?”
he didn’t answer immediately, which was answer enough. but, before either of you could say anything else, someone clapped loudly from the stage, “ladies and gentlemen!”the room quietened, “tonight,” the actor announced dramatically, “we require volunteers.”
a collective holler swept through the audience. you immediately looked away from the stage. absolutely not.
“you!”
your head snapped up and saw that the actor was pointing directly at you. surely not, right? you looked behind yourself, “yes, you.”
a sarcastic laugh escaped your lips, “no.”
“that’s not how volunteering works.”
your friends immediately betrayed you, shouting “go!” and “she’ll do it!”
“absolutely not,” you hissed, already shaking your head. but it was too late because the actor was making his way towards you with alarming determination, “come along.”
“i said no.”
“which is exactly what juliet would’ve said,” he smirked and before you knew it, the entire room was applauding as you reluctantly made your way towards the stage. you shot your friends a look over your shoulder to see every single one of them laughing. traitors.
“give her another round of applause!” the actor declared.
“this is my worst nightmare,” you muttered as you covered your face with your hands.
“excellent,” he turned back towards the audience. “now… our romeo.”
your stomach dropped immediately. please don’t. please— the actor’s arm extended dramatically, straight towards dean. he blinked, “me?”
“yes, you!”
“what about him?” dean immediately pointed at john logan, one of his teammates, who shot him a surprised glare.
“already dead in act three.”
the room laughed again and dean sighed dramatically before pushing himself to his feet. “i knew i should’ve stayed home,” he muttered as he climbed onto the stage beside you.
the actor looked between the two of you before grinning, “oh, this is perfect.”
you glanced sideways at dean, “don’t.”
“i haven’t said anything.”
you glared at him just as the actor patted the two of you on the back, “right!” he announced. “romeo and juliet!”
he left just as another actress appeared from the wings carrying a stack of oversized cue cards and a stool. while your eyes were focused on her placing it in the centre of the stage, someone else pushed you towards it.
the actress with the cue cards turned to the audience, “after the capulet party, juliet decides to retreat to the quiet of her balcony.” the guy who’d brought you to the stool told you to get on while the other continued, “where she thinks she is alone when she utters…”
you glanced backwards to see the actor had left and when you looked back you found a cue card already held up in front of you, “o romeo, o romeo! wherefore art thou romeo?”
instead of letting you do the entire, incredibly long and difficult speech, the next cue card said ‘kneel’ and you watched as dean dramatically went down on one knee. a giggle forced it way past your lips at the sight in front of you. dean placed a hand on his heart as he glanced at the cue cards before reciting, “i take thee at thy word, call me but love, and i’ll be new baptis’d!”
the rest of the balcony scene and play went by quickly. dean, apparently, had a knack for theater; knowing exactly how to use the drama to get the audience to love him.
you found yourself laughing more often than speaking. somewhere between juliet’s arranged marriage and the sleeping potion, the nerves you’d felt climbing onto the stage disappeared completely.
when the actors inevitably interrupted another scene to make a joke, you’d glance at dean at exactly the same moment he looked back at you. neither of you ever said anything, but the actors noticed, of course. one actress began deliberately placing the two of you beside one another whenever she could.
before long, the play had reached its inevitable conclusion. one actor solemnly wheeled what looked suspiciously like a blue camping mat into the centre of the stage.
“the capulet tomb,” he announced as another scattered plastic flowers around it with all the reverence of a funeral director. then he turned to you, “juliet.” he gestured towards the mat, “if you’d be so kind.”
with a long-suffering sigh that earned another laugh from the audience, you lowered yourself onto the camping mat, trying your hardest at playing dead.
the actor glanced towards dean, who was waiting just offstage, “romeo!”
the room quietened slightly. someone still laughed into their drink near the back, and a chair scraped loudly against the wooden floor as someone shifted for a better view, but compared to the chaos of the last forty-five minutes, it felt almost silent.
dean glanced towards the cue cards before looking at you lying remarkably still. a moment ago, you’d been laughing so hard your stomach hurt. now you had your eyes closed, hands folded neatly across your middle.
the actress holding the cue cards stepped into his line of sight. “here’s to my love!” dean picked up the little plastic goblet someone had pressed into his hand earlier. he raised it with as much unnecessary drama as he could manage before tipping it back in one exaggerated gulp.
the audience applauded as the actress lifted another cue card, “thus with a kiss i die.”
slowly, a grin spread across the actress’ face; they’d done this on purpose. dean let out the quietest laugh through his nose before stepping closer. a chorus of excited murmurs spread across the room and someone wolf-whistled as he crouched beside you instead of standing over you, close enough that only you would’ve heard him if you’d opened your eyes, “you enjoying your nap?”
you fought the smile threatening your lips.
the cue card holder cleared her throat pointedly, causing dean to sigh. then, with the exaggerated reluctance of a man walking willingly into a trap, he leaned down just enough that, from where the audience sat, it looked convincingly like romeo’s farewell kiss.
your breath hitched once he closed the last few inches, brushing the lightest kiss against your forehead.
the audience erupted and cheers echoed around the room. another actor threw a handful of plastic flower petals into the air like confetti while dean, thoroughly committed now, collapsed dramatically onto the floor beside the camping mat with one hand over his chest.
another cue card appeared in front of you, “wake up.”
you slowly opened your eyes and the next few moments happened almost exactly as shakespeare intended — at least, as closely as they could with cue cards, camping mats and an audience three pints deep. you sat upright, looked at dean, and delivered juliet’s final lines from the card held in front of you.
then room grew noticeably quieter again. you reached the fake dagger, pressing it theatrically against your chest, and fell sideways onto the camping mat beside dean.
silence. one second. two seconds. then the actor playing the prince strode confidently into the middle of the stage, “and thus,” he declared, spreading his arms wide, “everyone dies.”
before either you or dean had the chance to stand, the rest of the cast rushed the stage, hauling you both to your feet for an exaggerated curtain call.
you caught dean’s eye over the applause. his hair was a mess, there were plastic flower petals caught in the sleeve of his hoodie, and he was still trying not to laugh. you realised you were doing exactly the same.
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ
the temperature had dropped while you’d been inside, leaving the streets quiet enough that the sounds of conversation drifted easily through the evening. streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement while groups of students gradually wandered back towards campus, still animatedly discussing the performance.
your friends hadn’t stopped; “i still think mercutio deserved an award.”“i think romeo should’ve kissed juliet.”
you looked at her, “please stop.”
“i’m just saying—”
someone fell into step beside you, “i’m stealing her for a minute.”the voice was familiar enough that you looked up before you really thought about it.
dean was wearing a jean jacket over his hoodie and his hair was still slightly dishevelled from repeatedly dragging his hands through it onstage. there was something strangely ordinary about seeing him like this after spending the last hour pretending to be romeo.
your friends noticed him far too quickly; one of them looked between the two of you before smiling with entirely too much satisfaction, “don’t stay out too late.”
you turned to glare at her, but she pretended not to notice. dean watched the exchange with poorly concealed amusement, “they seem nice.”
“they’re awful,” you sighed dramatically before turning back towards your friends, “i’ll catch up.”
they disappeared down the street with suspiciously little resistance and you waited until they were out of earshot before looking sideways at dean, “you definitely timed that.”
he looked ahead, hands buried comfortably in the pockets of his jacket, “i took a chance.”his smile appeared briefly before disappearing again.
you started walking in comfortable silence. the street wasn’t particularly crowded anymore. students drifted past in both directions, some still carrying programmes from the show, others stopping to greet people they recognised before moving on again.
eventually, you glanced across at him, “you really like attention, huh?”
“I play hockey,” he looked over.
“i’ve seen you play hockey,” you smirked lightly, “but i feel like i underestimated the theatre kid hiding underneath.”
he laughed quietly, “i think that’s the first time anyone’s ever called me that.”
“you did have everyone laughing,” you smiled.
“they were laughing at me.”
another comfortable silence settled. the breeze lifted a loose strand of hair across your face, and you tucked it behind your ear as the two of you reached the edge of campus.
you noticed dean slowing his pace almost imperceptibly, “so…” you said. “you wanted to steal me away for a reason?”
he let out a quiet breath through his nose, “i did.” he didn’t look at you. instead, his eyes stayed fixed somewhere ahead, thoughtful in a way you hadn’t really seen before. when he finally spoke again, his voice had lost the easy confidence it’d carried at the party, “i’ve been thinking about what you said.”
you didn’t need to ask which conversation he meant, “the party.”
he nodded, “you were right.” you looked at him. there wasn’t any defensiveness in his expression, no attempt to explain himself away, just honesty. “i gave you every reason to think i only wanted one thing.” the admission seemed to cost him something, “i kept thinking about it afterwards.”
a small smile tugged at your mouth, “that surprises you?”
“a little.”
“you seem like someone who moves on quickly.”
“i usually do,” he shrugged with a small smile, “i didn’t this time.”
you looked away for a moment, watching your sneakers scuff lightly against the pavement. there was something unexpectedly vulnerable about hearing that from him.
dean rubbed absent-mindedly at the back of his neck, “so,” he laughed once under his breath, “i feel like i’m asking properly this time.”
“no parties,” he ticked one finger. “no upstairs,” another finger. “no assumptions.”he stopped walking then, turning just enough to face you properly beneath the glow of a streetlamp, “i was wondering if you’d let me take you for coffee.”
it sounded simple and intentional. you’d spent weeks assuming dean di laurentis probably never got nervous around women. now you weren’t so sure.
you folded your arms loosely against the evening chill, “is this an actual date?”
“yeah,” his answer came without hesitation.
“no hidden agenda?”
“no.”
you held his gaze for another few seconds. it was enough that the corner of his mouth started to twitch, “you’re enjoying making me wait.”
“a little,” you smirked. the silence stretched just a little longer before you finally nodded, “okay.”
for a second, he simply stared at you, “okay?”
you laughed softly, “i’ll have coffee with you.”
he blinked once, almost as though he hadn’t fully prepared himself for you to say yes. then a smile spread slowly across his face.
⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ: *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ⋆*･ﾟ
@justkeepingitpeachy @wolfiee10 @tinyceasarsalad @melodypvnk @chrismattnick @outpostsworld @andabuttonnose @kmc1989 @kennedy-brooke
