nothing else mattered | dean di laurentis
a/n: this fic is fluffy in the best way possible. writing about maxwell!reader scratches an itch in my brain i didn't even know i had. 💗.
pairing: dean di laurentis x maxwell!reader
warnings: drinking, mentions of alcohol and intoxication, FLUFF, best friend's brother, reader asks for affection (dean doesn't take advantage of it dw)
You were drunk. Too drunk. You were standing on top of a table, dancing and drinking every shot that crossed your line of sight. The drinks kept coming, and people kept circling around you as you twirled around and blew them kisses. It was not uncommon for you to do this, at all.
What was rather uncommon, was for someone to actually stop you. Truth be told, you’d forgotten to keep pushing down your mini skirt when you’d had your third drink, so you were probably showing more skin than necessary, and that was why most of the people in the circle were men ogling you.
You knew it was weird, but you were too drunk to care. You stayed like that until you heard the front door shut with a slam, and you saw your worst nightmare enter the room. Beau.
As if some higher power had read your thoughts, he spotted you immediately and his eyes widened in anger. He ran to where you were, and you knew that what came next would be bad.
“Everybody out!” He yelled, pushing people around so they’d leave the room you were in. He rolled his eyes when he saw you, and it made you frown. “I’m fine!” You assured, crossing your arms.
“No you’re not. But I can’t drive you back to your dorm, because I had too many drinks at the pregame. I’ll just ask Dean if he can do it.” Once those words left his mouth, your whole body froze. Dean as in Dean Di Laurentis, the guy who made your knees buckle beneath you when he flashed you a simple smile, was the one Beau wanted to be in charge of taking you home.
“You okay?” He asked, noticing your subtle reaction. “Yeah, just a little tipsy” You grinned, bringing your index finger and your thumb close together. That got a chuckle out of him, and it also made you smile.
Beau brought his phone to his ear and called Dean. “Thanks, man. We’re in a small room next to the kitchen. Sorry for the trouble, I owe you” He hung up, and extended an arm for you to jump down. You shook your head, and tried to not think about the suggestive music playing while thinking of Dean at the same time. “Beau, I’m not gonna jump down. This music is perfect for dancing.” You said, and Dean entered the room right on cue.
Dean’s face softened the moment he saw you, and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “Beau, go and have fun, I’ve got her” He said, turning to look at your brother, who nodded and thanked him once again.
“Like I told Beau, I am not getting down” You said, squinting and running a hand through your hair. “Then I’m coming up to get you” Your eyes widened; before you knew it, he was atop the table and picking you up bridal style.
“Di Laurentis, let me down!” You screeched, bringing your hands up to hit his chest. That was to no avail, and the only thing you got out of it was realising just how toned he really was. You were in no position to make rational decisions, so you wrapped your arms around his neck and buried your face in his chest.
Dean smirked, but pulled you flush to him. He found it oddly natural, but shook the thought away
“You comfortable there?” He asked, his smug smirk intact
“So warm” You mumbled, playing with strands of his blond hair that rested at the nape of his neck. “You have very soft hair, do you know that?” You said, bringing your hands up to his face. Your thumb traced his sharp jawline, and you felt it clench.
“You are very drunk, Mini Maxwell” He said, looking down at you and smiling. “And you have beautiful eyes, Di Laurentis” Although you couldn’t see his reaction, you swore that a faint hint of a blush grazed his cheeks. Suddenly, a blast of cold air hit you. Dean took you to his BMW, opened the passenger seat with one hand, and put you inside it. You felt colder than you had all evening, even when the cool air hit your whole body. It was as if his absence was physically noticeable.
“Okay, I’m gonna take you to your dorm now” He said, buckling your seatbelt. You remembered that your friend Layla was throwing a dorm party, and a giggle escaped your lips. “Oh absolutely not,” He said, recognising the look on your face. “Whose party is it?” He asked, one of his hands on your seat and the other on the dashboard in front of you. “Layla’s…” You reluctantly said, a frown covering your face. He sighed and you could tell he was hesitating on whether he should say what was on his mind.
“You’re staying in the off campus house tonight, Mini Maxwell” Your jaw felt like it had literally detached itself. “Your off campus house?” You asked, batting your eyelashes in confusion. He chuckled and nodded. “Maybe Beau will kill me, but he’ll be grateful for it deep down.”
Dean closed the passenger door and went to the driver’s seat. He started the car, and you couldn’t help staring at him. He just looked so good, and you were in no position to deny yourself. Dean turned his head to look at you briefly, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
“You’re staring.” He said.
“I know. You’re pretty.” You replied, grinning.
This was not how Dean expected taking you home would go. Because he’d always known you were gorgeous, but you somehow looked better with your hair a little messy. He quickly shook the thought away and reminded himself that his only objectives were to get you to sleep and drink water.
“You’re awfully quiet, Di Laurentis.” You said, your hands playing with a strand of your curled hair
“Just thinking” His fingers tapped the steering wheel as he pulled into the parking spot that his house had.
After getting out of the car and opening your seat’s door, he dropped to his knees. Dean took your left foot and took your heel off, doing the same thing with your right foot. You let out a relieved sign, slumping back.
“Do you do this to every girl with aching feet that comes to your house?” You asked, raising your eyebrows.
“Just the ones I really like” He smiled softly at you before picking you up again. “Now you’re going to drink some water so you sober up and you’re gonna sleep, okay?” If this had been any other day, you would’ve fought the urge to snuggle against him again. But it wasn’t a normal day so you didn’t.
Dean opened the door, and you realised how quiet the house was. You realised everyone else was probably out partying, but Dean was here. He closed the door, carried you to the kitchen, and set you down on a counter. He filled up a glass of water and extended his hand to give it to you. You drank, the taste of alcohol still lingering in your mouth.
“Dean, ‘m hungry” You croaked, setting the glass on the counter.
He relished the sound of his name escaping your lips, and if he could’ve bottled it, it would’ve been his liquor of choice at every party.
“I’m not sure you’re gonna like what we have here, so we could just get some takeout” A grin appeared on your face, and Dean took it as a yes. He left for a second, rushing up the stairs to get some of the micellar water Garret kept stocked up in case Hannah ever stayed over. After putting some of it in a couple of cotton pads, he came back down.
He positioned himself in between your legs and started wiping away your makeup. You giggled, leaning into his gentle strokes. Once he was finished he picked you back up and set you down on the couch, hoping you’d maybe fall asleep there and actually get the rest you needed. Before he could sit down on the other end and order, you stopped him dead in his tracks with just three words.
“Stay with me” You pleaded, patting the space next to you.
He pulled out his phone to order some food first, his movements deliberate, as if he was buying himself time from having to lay beside you because he was a mess inside and didn’t know what to do. When he finally threw the phone across the sofa, he hesitated for a brief moment before finally sitting down beside you, his hands laying on his sides.
Dean Di Laurentis didn’t do this, he didn’t do soft, he didn’t hesitate, and he most definitely didn’t do either with you. Your hands somehow found their way to his, as if that was the most normal thing in the world. You heard his breath hitch, and it made your heart race. You’d already forgotten about the food, your attention focused on tracing shapes on his veiny hands instead.
“Sleep, babydoll, you need to rest. I’ll wake you up when the food gets here” He said, his mouth practically pressed to your ear
“Can’t you just kiss my drunkness better?” The words came out of your mouth before you could even process you’d uttered them, and Dean went completely still.
The silence that came after you said those words felt deafening. He only heard the silent hum of the refrigerator, and his hands pressed hard against the sofa cushions. For the first time in his life, Dean didn’t have a snappy comeback or a sarcastic remark to throw back at you. He’d known you for many years, but this was the first time that you managed to silence him completely.
He watched the rise and fall of your shoulders and the realisation suddenly hit him. He could have anyone in the university, but he wanted you. He wanted every part of you, your wild personality and your excitement to go out and have fun every single day. He wanted to be the one to take care of you every time you were hungover, or simply whenever you needed him. That’s when Dean Di Laurentis realised he was irrevocably doomed. A thought lingered in his mind. If you weren’t drunk and truly felt the same way, I would.
Mere seconds after that, he felt your breathing even out. He looked down at you and realised you were asleep. He pressed a kiss to the back of your head but stayed where he was. He didn’t care if the food got cold, or if Logan found it in the morning, still on the doorstep. He knew you wanted him to stay, so he’d stay.
