the art of un-casual - dean di laurentis
pairing ! dean di laurentis x golden!reader
summary ! you catch dean's attention, but quickly shut it down because you don't do casual. dean persists anyway.
warnings ! fluff. mild talk of insecurities. dean is over being casual about everything. cutie patooties.
wc ! 2.7k
author's note ! i loved writing this and def think i will write more briar u boys with golden!reader !! not proof-read.
to be added to my taglist.
You did not want to be there. Hockey was a violent sport and you didn't like it. However, Hannah's boyfriend just so happened to be the captain, so you were sucked into far too many games for your liking.
"Listen, if I can get over it, so can you," Hannah told you, smiling.
She had a point, you supposed. Her reason was much more valid than yours, and yet, you found yourself upset anyway. Not irrationally or anything, just mildly. Still, you sat with her in the crowd, eyes latching onto the game.
If you were here, you might as well watch. You knew the players, Hannah was around them all the time so that meant you'd come to know their faces, even if you never personally interacted. You tended to stay clear of men like them.
The game was brutal and violent and by the end you felt a little nauseous. Not because you couldn't watch violence, but because you hated the unnecessary kind. And this seemed the most unnecessary there was.
Still, you stayed silent. You cheered with Hannah when Briar U won and you found yourself even a little happy. No, you didn't like hockey, but if someone had to win, it might as well be your team.
Hannah dragged you with her to wait down the hall of the locker rooms. "This is stupid," you grumbled, crossing your arms.
Hannah laughed. "It's not stupid! I want you to meet my friends!"
You sighed, giving in easily. You had a soft spot for Hannah, and you were glad she had found some more people to be comfortable with. Allie was supposed to be here, but she got way too caught up in the upcoming play and ended up passed out in her room.
You two left her be.
Soon enough, men were piling out of the locker room and you felt a little uncomfortable. Not because you felt unsafe, but because they were all staring at you. You weren't shy or anything, not even really that insecure, but it was reasonable that a group full of men staring at you made you uncomfortable.
Hannah introduced you to the guys, and you gave a small wave, an even smaller smile on your face. Not out of rudeness, but out of comfort for yourself. None of them seemed to mind. "You coming to the party, Wellsy?" Dean asked, tossing his arm around her shoulders.
"Depends. Are you coming to the party?" Hannah's eyes were on you.
You widened your eyes, pointing to yourself. "Me? Um...no?"
Dean boo'd, and Logan smacked him upside the head. "Be nice, dickwad."
That earned a little giggle from you. "Come. It'll be fun, and I'll personally bodyguard you if need be," Garrett said, his eyes soft and warm as they reached you.
You sucked in a breath, looking at Hannah who had a little pout on her face. You gave in again. "Okay, I'll come."
Dean and Hannah cheered, slapping palms together. You chuckled, shaking your head. You turned around, heading toward the building doors.
This was a bad idea.
Still, you found yourself walking into the hockey house a few hours later with Hannah at your hip, your eyes darting around the place. You'd never actually been in it, and it was smaller than you expected.
People were packed everywhere, girls all over the guys and they were eating it up like Christmas dinner. Especially Dean. Hannah waved at Garrett, who smiled, walking over to you two.
It was nice for all of two seconds before you decided that being suffocated by the love of those two was not something you wanted to be subjected to all evening. You pulled away from Hannah, a polite smile on your face.
"I'm going to get a drink."
Hannah tilted her head, but nodded. She knew you enough to know that, while you loved love, sometimes it was too much. You hated it, really. It made you feel guilty. There was no reason for you to feel so...envious of Hannah.
She deserved all she had, and you wanted that for her.
Still, something inside you ached a little every time she was with Garrett. Some little voice in your head that told you that could never be you. You ignored it. You had to. You couldn't let that stupid voice consume your life.
Even if, sometimes, it felt like it would.
You sighed, walking over to the kitchen and making yourself a drink. You heavily inspected the cup before deciding it was safe. It took two sips for you to realize you hated whatever it was. Well, it took one sip. But you took another one just to be sure.
You were definitely sure, making a sour face and pouring the liquid down the drain of the sink.
"You know, that's perfectly good alcohol right there." Dean's voice invaded your ears. You looked beside you, seeing him leaning against the fridge, a small smirk on his face.
"Good is a stretch," you replied, shaking your head in an attempt to get the sour taste out.
He chuckled. "Nice freckles." The comment was an odd one, but it ignited some sort of feeling in you. "Never got to see you close enough to notice before."
You managed a smile, a breathy chuckle accompanying it. "That happened to be the goal."
He tilted his head. "How come?"
You swallowed. "Don't you have some girl to make out with?"
A smile from him. "Depends. Are you that girl?"
You crossed your arms. "No."
"Then no."
You narrowed your eyes at him, studying him. His demeanor was calm, collected, cool. Like he belonged right where he was, talking to you in his kitchen as a party happened around the two of you. You weren't quite as collected.
"You didn't answer my other question," he pointed out.
You bit the inside of your cheek. "Well, it was a stupid question."
"Humor me."
You chuckled softly, shaking your head. "You're impossible."
"Oh, you have no idea, sweetheart."
The pet name usually made you feel sick. But Dean didn't say it like a catcall. He said it like it was natural. Like it was a name meant for you. You were positively confused. A little concerned. Mostly focused on making your exit.
Dean noticed. "Some place to be?" He stepped closer. One tiny little step. It made you feel hot.
You swallowed. "Lots of places to be. None of them are here."
"How come?"
The repeated question caused a fire to spread up your neck until you felt the blush across your cheeks. Dean smiled. Not smirked. Smiled. "You're cute when you blush."
You had never felt more of an urge to push a man than you did right then. Not out of anger, but out of embarrassment. No way were you blushing in front of Dean Di Laurentis. "Shut up," you mumbled, tightening your arms around yourself to feel a little more protected.
Dean's eyes scanned over you, his gaze making you squirm slightly. You didn't enjoy being inspected, especially by some manwhore hockey man. Still, you stayed silent. His eyes met yours, something in them you weren't too familiar with.
You could still place it, though. You'd seen it a couple times. It was hunger.
Your chest felt a little tight, and you refused to fall at the feet of him. Your eyes scanned the room. "I make you nervous, don't I?" he asked softly. Not judging or teasing, just a genuine question.
"A little, yes," you replied, eyes staring next to him at the fridge instead of at him.
"How come?"
"Can you stop asking me that?"
"Can you start answering me?"
You bit back a smile. "Fine. You get one question, make it good."
Dean thought for a second. "Why don't you come around?"
You sucked in a breath. "Why would I? A house full of men isn't exactly my idea of a good time."
Dean tilted his head. "So what is?"
You shook yours. "You don't really care about that."
"Hm?"
"I can see it in your eyes, Dean. You're not interested in knowing what I do for fun. You're interested in how much fun I can give you."
Something passed Dean's eyes, something that made you regret what you said, but he easily recovered. "True. Partly."
"Partly?"
"I'm not blind, sweetheart. You're a gorgeous woman in my kitchen, I'd be stupid not to flirt. Still, I am actually interested in what you have to say. I don't only think with my dick, you know?"
You tilted your head. "Hm, that's not what I've heard." Dean chuckled, you smiled. "Okay, fine. You get another question."
This one came with no hesitation. "Are you enjoying yourself tonight?"
"Not entirely," you answered honestly. Dean tilted his chin up.
"You wanna go home?"
"Can't. Allie dropped us off."
"Not what I asked."
You sighed. "Yes."
"Then let's go."
You furrowed your brows. "Dean-"
He shook his head. "The party will live without me. I'd be cruel to make you suffer through it." He peeled himself off the fridge, holding out a hand.
You chuckled softly, slipping your hand into his. His fingers wrapped around your hand easily, and the warmth of his skin caused goosebumps to erupt. You ignored them. You found Hannah quickly, she was drunk.
You were glad she felt comfortable enough to be that way now.
You said goodbye to both Hannah and Garrett, and then followed Dean out of the house. He led you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. You got in silently, and once Dean got in, you gave him your address.
The ride was silent, but comfortable. Music hummed lowly through the car and Dean's eyes flickered to you every once in a while. You never looked back. You were smarter than that. You knew better. You had to know better.
You weren't going to one-night stand yourself into some complicated feelings over Dean fucking Di Laurentis. No, you were more aware of your faults than that. More aware of your inability to be casual about anything.
He pulled up to your house, a small one bedroom in a quiet neighborhood. You sighed softly. You regretted the words before you even got them out. "Do you want to come in?"
There was a pause, before Dean nodded. "Yeah."
You ignored the feeling in your chest as you got out, digging your keys out of your pocket and walking up to the front door, Dean following behind you silently. The door creaked open, and you flicked on the light, kicking your shoes off at the door.
Dean followed your example, trailing you as you walked into your cozy living room. It was full of books and plants and, honestly, it was everything Dean thought it would be. Maybe more.
"Cute," he said softly, almost too softly. His fingers grazed the chipping wallpaper on the wall, and you sucked in a small breath, sitting down in your hanging chair.
Dean followed, sitting down on the couch.
"Why'd you come in?" you asked suddenly, but quietly.
Dean smiled. "Why not?"
"Not an actual answer, by the way."
He chuckled. "Honestly? I wanted to see what kind of place you lived in."
You tilted your head. "And?"
"It's everything I expected from you."
You chuckled. "You can go back to your party, you know?"
"I know."
"Yet, you're still sitting on my couch."
"That I am."
Silence. You sucked in a small breath, turning your head away from him. You felt his stare. You ignored it. "Why do you do that?"
Dean's question was soft and quiet, but full of a weight he didn't know it carried. "Do what?" you asked. Your eyes still weren't on his.
"We get somewhere, and you shut down."
"We don't get anywhere."
"Yes, we do."
You closed your eyes, sucking in a breath through your nose. Your hands tightened at the edges of your chair. You slowly looked at him. "Honestly? It scares me."
Dean tilted his head at your answer, his eyes soft and searching. "What does?"
"You. This. All of it. I don't..." You shook your head. "I don't flirt. I'm smarter than that. I don't get my hopes up. I'm better than that. And I certainly, certainly don't invite a hockey man into my house."
Dean ignored the last part for now, more focused on what you said before. "Hopes up about what?" he asked curiously.
You laughed. A self-deprecating one that made you cringe internally. "You're not dumb, Dean. You know who you are, and so do I. And I know who I am. It's just..." You shook your head once more. It wasn't like you didn't know your worth.
You did.
You just also knew when you were in over your head. Sometimes it got the better of you. You hated that it did, but you couldn't help it. Dean moved then, slowly and soft like you were going to run away if he moved too quickly.
Maybe you were.
He found his place in front of you on his knees, eyes looking up at you. You sucked in a breath. "So who are you, then?" he asked quietly.
Your eyes searched his. "I'm the girl who's smart enough to know that this isn't happening. Not really." He tilted his head. You continued. "You'll flirt and maybe you'll get what you want, or maybe you won't. Either way, you'll go home and it'll be over for you. You're a casual man, Dean."
He swallowed. You didn't stop. "Casual's cool. It's nice, I guess. But it's not me. I'm not that type of person. I can't be. It's not realistic, and it's certainly not something I'm capable of."
Dean sucked in a breath. "It doesn't have to be casual."
The words hung heavy in the air. You furrowed your brows. "What?"
Dean shrugged. "It doesn't have to be anything you don't want it to be. It doesn't have to be sex." He leaned in, just slightly, his hands resting on either side of your legs. "What do you want?"
You scoffed, soft and really with no insult behind it, shaking your head. "I-" You swallowed. "What?" You couldn't fathom what he was saying right now. Dean Di Laurentis of all people.
"What do you want?" he repeated, softer this time.
The question was heavy. It crushed your throat and filled your chest with cement. It was the type of question you never answered honestly. Tonight, it felt like you had to. "I want to be wanted. Really wanted."
Dean nodded, eyes searching yours. He stood up slowly, holding out his hand. For some reason, you just took it. No questions asked. He pulled you up with ease, and you gasped softly as his arm wrapped around you, pulling you into his chest.
"Why don't we start slow?" he asked quietly. "See where it goes."
"I'm not having sex with you."
He smiled. "Not what I meant, sweetheart."
You tilted your head, genuinely curious. "What did you mean?"
He brought a hand up, thumb brushing over your cheek that was still burning with a blush. "I take you on a date, we get to know each other. Something...un-casual."
You sucked in a small breath, eyes searching his. "You're serious?"
"Deadly."
You bit your lip, slowly nodding. "Okay."
He smiled, soft and warm and it filled you with something you weren't sure you wanted to place. You were fucking terrified. Still, your veins pumped with excitement. "Does it count as un-casual if I kiss you?"
You giggled at his question. "Only if you don't immediately leave after."
He shook his head, tucking some hair behind your ear. "Not happening."
You nodded, giving him the green light. His lips met yours softly, full of warmth and passion and you felt dizzy from it. He pulled you closer, hands roaming your body in a way you've never felt. You moaned softly into the kiss as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
Dean pressed against you harder, but not insistent. Like he just wanted to be close. What usually made you feel uncomfortable made you feel warm now. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, deepening the kiss slightly.
Dean's hands slipped under your ass, picking you up in one swift motion. You gasped, grabbing onto his shoulders. He carried you over to the couch like you weighed nothing, sitting you on his lap as you two made out.
His lips traveled to your jaw, sucking softly on the skin as you let out a shaky breath, hand running through his hair. He pulled back slowly, licking his lips as he looked at you. You could feel him growing harder under you, and it was hard to ignore.
He noticed. "Don't worry about it," he whispered, caressing your hair. "No sex, remember?"
You giggled, leaning in and kissing him softly. He groaned into it. "You are so not how I thought you'd be."
"Good thing or bad thing?"
"Good," you replied. "Definitely good."
