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teen6ge · 3 months

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Seoul Drift ☆ 1

☆ summary: Ever since your mom tied the knot with Seungcheol's dad, you've been drawn to the electrifying world of drift racing. Watching Seungcheol—aka S.COUPS—tear up the streets, cementing his place as one of Seoul's top drifters, filled you with pride. From the moment you witnessed your first race, you've been itching to join in, begging Seungcheol to teach you the ropes. But he's always been dead set against it, wary of the dangers lurking in the shadows of the racing scene. However, everything changes when Wonwoo, a member of a rival crew, enters the picture. Suddenly, the lines between personal and professional blur, and seismic shifts rock both your personal life and Seungcheol's drifting career.

☆ pairing: fem!reader x racer!wonwoo

☆ genre: action. angst. eventual smut. strangers to lovers.

☆ word count: 3,6k

☆ a/n: IT'S HERE EARLY THAN I EXPECTED!!!!!!!! y'all, i have absolutely nothing to add. this is only the beginning and, soon enough, i'll evolve my writing, promise. i just hope you like it just as much as i did! i also would like to thank for the support and interest. next chapter i'll work harder. soon i'll post two important links to get you in the mood (playlist + aesthetic boards). that's it! thank youuuuuuuuuuu

“This is so exciting, isn’t it?” Yeeun's high-pitched voice chirps, breaking through the veil of your anxious thoughts about tonight's race. You turn to face her, mustering a somewhat forced smile as you nod in agreement before looking at Seungcheol again. It's unusual for you to feel this anxious about one of his races, but tonight, there's an unshakeable feeling that something is going to be different. The anticipation hangs in the air, thick with the promise of an electrifying night ahead.

Your stepbrother is already in his car, a white Acura NSX with striking red, gray, and black accents, poised at the starting line while awaiting the final racer to arrive. He exudes confidence, as always, unfazed by the tension of the moment. One hand firmly grips the wheel while the other casually supports his chin, his gaze scanning the crowd before meeting yours. A reassuring smile graces his lips, conveying silent encouragement. You couldn’t help but relax as you smile back, feeling way less nervous than before.

A short, black-haired man strides confidently toward the first car, an all-black BMW M5, leaning casually over the driver's window to engage in conversation. "Hey, who's that?" Yeeun inquires, pointing in his direction. Your eyes instinctively roll at the sight of him.

"That's Hoshi. His real name is Soonyoung, but everyone knows him as Hoshi. He's part of this massive drift team called Supra NFZ. They're rivals with Cheol's team. Well, basically, they're the only rivals they have," you explain, crossing your arms. Yeeun listens intently, her gaze shifting to Hoshi for a moment before she scoffs.

"Pigs," Yeeun mutters, and you can't help but giggle at your best friend's words. Honestly, you couldn't agree more.

"Yeah, they are. Plus, I don't know why Seungcheol keeps coming to their events. It's not like they're the only ones around..." you mutter, scanning the area as you observe people placing their bets with another member of the Supra NFZ.

"Maybe because they're our only rivals, as you said before, Y/N," Mingyu's voice chimes in, causing you to turn around. You're met with the flash of his professional camera as he captures a picture of you and Yeeun. Blinking rapidly, you close your eyes immediately after, the brightness burning into your retinas as you whine, slapping your hand against Mingyu's strong arm. He giggles in response. "I'm sorry, I just had to."

"A'ight, listen up, racers," Hoshi's loud voice cuts through the chatter, instantly quieting down the crowd as all eyes turn to him. "Race starts in 2 minutes, with or without my guest, so get yourselves ready."

Not a minute after Hoshi's announcement, a loud roar of a car getting closer and closer fills the air, causing the crowd to scatter. A black, simple 1995 Mitsubishi Eclipse emerges, positioning itself beside Seungcheol's car. When the driver rolls his window down, Hoshi smiles as he opens his arms. “Wonwoo, you made it! A’ight, y’all. This is my guest, Jeon Wonwoo, a.k.a GAM3 BO1. It’s his first time, so let’s make him feel at home, a’ight?”

"Shit… We got a newbie." Mingyu exclaims in excitement, standing right behind you. His eyes scan the crowd, searching for his own team.

The crowd starts to buzz talking about the new competitor, your group included. Seungcheol glares at the dark haired man, smirking cocky as his engine roars impatiently, now turning to the other opponents, Bobby and Zico, who are adorning the same smile as him.

“Racers… Ready?” Hoshi asks, the drivers only speeding up in response, engines roaring loud and repeatedly. Wonwoo's eyes meet your stepbrother's, and for a moment, it seems like Wonwoo looks scared. Seungcheol is a serious man to those who don't know him; it's not uncommon for people to find him intimidating. However, once you get to know him, you understand that he's actually a very patient and caring person. That's why it's common to see the look of despair on his face as Cheol glares at him. You're beginning to feel nervous again as Hoshi stands in front of the now four cars, his arms lifting as the race is about to start.

Engines purr impatiently as Hoshi begins to count down from 3 to 1, yelling "GO!" As expected, the first car to start moving is Seungcheol's, the last being from the newbie, but not too far behind. People cheer as they rush to the start line, now free of cars, to watch the vehicles until they disappear from view, yourself included. Yeeun cheers as loud as she can for Seungcheol, Mingyu joining her afterwards as soon as he drags Vernon, the newest member of Cheol’s crew, along with him. Your eyes are fixed on your stepbrother's car, the white Acura drifting beautifully as it turns right, almost side by side with Zico’s car, a purple Nissan 180SX S13, closing in on Seungcheol’s lead, which makes you bite your nail due to nervousness.

As soon as the four cars disappear, the crowd darts to an alley, eager to reach the other side of the block where the finish line awaits. Mingyu is the one to bring you back to reality by grabbing your hand and forcing you to walk with the rest of the group to where the crowd is going.

"Gyu... I don't... I don't think Cheol is winning this one," you manage to mutter, your eyes filled with worry as Mingyu stops in his tracks to face you, his smile disappearing when he notices your serious expression.

"Hey! No, no, no. Don't you dare think he can't win this. Zico might be scary, but he's definitely not better than Coups, okay? Bobby and the other one are not even a competition anymore," he says, grabbing your chin and smiling fondly as he tries to soothe you. "He's got this, okay? And he needs us to be there when he wins yet another race. Let's go, love."

As soon as you reach the finish line, you spot Hoshi watching the race from a TV surrounded by a crowd of people trying to catch a glimpse of the screen as well. A drone camera hovers overhead, controlled by a long black-haired, skinny boy who sits by Hoshi's side. It's the same boy who was collecting people's bets before the race started.

From where you stand, you can see Cheol's car in the lead, with Zico following closely behind while Bobby and Wonwoo are locked in a fierce battle for third place. A wave of relief washes over you at the sight of your brother leading the race, and you notice Vernon, Mingyu, and Yeeun already opening a beer to celebrate the foreseen victory. You smile in relief, grabbing a beer yourself.

"Ain't no way!" someone yells from the crowd, and your smile drops as you turn to face the screen, disbelief washing over you as you see what seems to be the unbelievable: Wonwoo closing in on Seungcheol. Over the buzz of the crowd, you can hear Hoshi's laugh, and your eyes remain fixed on the TV screen as both cars take a turn to enter the street where you are now.

Everyone moves to the sides of the finish line, their eyes glued to the two cars closing in on each other. Both drivers have already activated their Nitro gas, accelerating with every ounce of power they have in an intense final push to try to win.

Just when everything seems to be shrouded in uncertainty, Wonwoo's car starts to slow down a bit, a clear indication that his Nitro has run out, while Cheol keeps moving faster and faster, crossing the finish line. Drifting his car to mark a circle on the ground before coming to a stop, Seungcheol jumps out of the car, a victorious smile on his face as people rush up to congratulate him.

Yeeun jumps into his arms, showering him with kisses as he embraces her waist, murmuring words of love before letting her go to greet Mingyu and Vernon, both of them gushing about how incredible the race was. You watch him with a proud smile before wrapping him in a tight hug, feeling a wave of relief wash over you.

"I'm so proud of you, Cheollie. That was scary, but also pretty amazing!" you say in a low voice, knowing how much he would hate it if everybody listened to your nickname for him. He winks at you before turning to the rest of the competitors, who are now talking to their own crew. Seungcheol walks up to them to congratulate them about the race. You eye the competitors you’re familiar with before your eyes land on Wonwoo, who has a satisfied smile on his face. His car has fog coming out of the hood, and he clearly lost a bunch of money. You couldn't understand how and why he's happy, but you couldn’t help but smile along with him, finding it adorable.

"S.COUPS… Here's your prize. Congrats, man," Hoshi approaches your brother, his voice carrying a tone of somewhat fake admiration as he hands over the money they've collected before the race. It’s a BUNCH of money, and your brother's smile widens with pride and satisfaction as he accepts the winnings. "A'ight, let's party, people! The night is just beginning," Hoshi announces to the jubilant crowd, igniting a wave of excitement and anticipation for the festivities ahead.

After securely stashing away the prize money, Seungcheol strides confidently toward the new boy, whose skill nearly cost him first place, and crosses his arms, a mischievous grin playing on his lips. GAM3 BO1 turns to face him, his smile unwavering even as he lifts the hood of the car, releasing a billow of smoke. Seungcheol positions himself beside the boy, casting a critical eye over the engine as he inspects the interior, shaking his head in mock disapproval. His gaze returns to the boy. "Whatcha smiling about?"

"Dude, I almost had you," Wonwoo declares, his tone filled with a mixture of determination and playful challenge, before pointing a finger squarely at your brother, and earning him a round of cheers and applause from the onlookers. Now you’re definitely laughing. Seungcheol grins at his words, looking over his shoulder at his teammates before looking at the boy again.

“You almost had me? You never had me. You never had your car.” Cheol's words ring out, cutting through the air with a mix of humor and challenge that sends the surrounding crowd into fits of laughter. The infectious sound fills the air, causing your lips to press together to contain your own amusement. Despite the laughter, a sense of sympathy washes over you for the boy. Wonwoo’s eyes shift between the crowd and your brother, his smile unwavering.

Your brother strides confidently around the car as he continues, his voice carrying a playful edge. “Granny-shifting. Not double-clutching, like you should. You’re lucky that 100-shot of NOS didn’t blow the welds on the intake.” His words are met with a chorus of cheers in agreement, the crowd clearly enjoying the banter between the two racers. “Almost had me?” Seungcheol turns to the people behind him, their expressions a mix of disbelief and awe at the exchange that just unfolded. Without a word, they gesture for Wonwoo to leave, their reactions a testament to the intensity of the moment. The boy is still unaffected by any words or actions.

“Ask any racer. Any real racer.” Cheol's voice booms with confidence as he returns to stand in front of Wonwoo, his demeanor commanding the attention of everyone around him. Mingyu and Vernon move closer to support their friend, their presence adding to the sense of camaraderie and unity among them. You watch the scene unfold with a grin on your lips, observing how your brother exudes an undeniable sense of cockiness when it comes to racing.

“It doesn’t matter if you win by an inch or a mile. Winning’s winning.” His words resonate deeply, echoing through the crowd and eliciting cheers and applause from all around. Some people even join in, yelling "yeah" to express their agreement with your brother's sentiment.

And it was true.

Although Wonwoo came close to overtaking Cheol's lead, he ultimately didn't win, and that's what matters in the world of street racing. Your brother turns around to embrace his girlfriend before making his way through the jubilant crowd, joining in the festivities as someone's car blasts music at full volume.

Meanwhile, you remain in the same spot, a sympathetic smile on your lips as you observe Wonwoo, who appears to be crestfallen as his car continues to emit smoke.

"You really didn't prepare for the race as you needed to, did you?" you remark, your tone a mixture of empathy and curiosity as you address the disappointed racer. He turns around as soon as he hears your voice, and sighs as he shakes his head.

“Apparently, I did not…” he chuckles, his expression a mix of resignation and amusement as he acknowledges his oversight. You find yourself smiling in response, drawn to his easygoing demeanor as you approach him, taking a closer look at his car.

“But he’s right. S.COUPS knows more about this than I do, clearly,” he continues, his tone tinged with admiration as he acknowledges your brother's expertise. “I thought only having Nitro gas was enough.”

You smile sympathetically, nodding in understanding as you lean against his car, your eyes scanning the crowd in search of your brother, who is now engrossed in the festivities with his teammates and Yeeun.

“He’s not a bad guy, you know? He’s been in this game for a long time, so he knows and loves what he’s doing now. But he was just like you at first,” you remark, your gaze returning to Wonwoo, who mirrors your posture as he leans against his car beside you. “NOS isn’t enough, and whether you like it or not, drifting is also an important skill to master.”

"Yeah... Do you race too?" His curiosity is genuine, evident in the way he speaks, as if he's genuinely interested in your involvement in the racing scene. You chuckle softly and shake your head, a hint of amusement dancing in your eyes.

"No! No, I... He would never let me," you sigh, your gaze drifting towards your brother once again. The familiar tension between you two surfaces once more in your mind. It's a recurring cycle - you ask him to teach you, he refuses, and before you know it, you're locked in another argument. "He hardly changes his mind."

Wonwoo hums in understanding, his gaze following yours to your brother, and a chuckle escapes him, prompting you to look at him with a slight frown, though a smile plays at the corners of your lips. "What?"

He shakes his head before returning his gaze to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "I was going to ask if he's your boyfriend or something, but he clearly isn't. He's almost swallowing the blonde girl he's with," he remarks, his observation laced with humor. You laugh in response, shaking your head at the amusing misconception.

"Oh, God, no! No, he's my brother. Well... Stepbrother," you clarify, offering a small smile as you dispel any misconceptions about your relationship with Seungcheol. Wonwoo hums again, looking at his own hands while toying with his fingers before speaking.

“So… It’s okay to ask for your number then, right?” he smiles at you, his ears slightly pink, a sign of his nervousness. You feel your cheeks burning as you smile shyly and nod in response to his question. “Yeah? What about a date?”

“Yes, Wonwoo! I’ll go out with you,” you say, unable to hide your excitement. His gaze is endearing as he looks at you, his eyes moving between your lips and eyes, a gesture that doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"Good. I promise it won’t be as embarrassing as today… At least not for me," he adds with a chuckle, and you both share a laugh, the tension easing between you.

After exchanging phone numbers, Seungcheol calls out for you, indicating it's time to go. Reluctantly, you begin to make your way toward him, though part of you wishes you could stay longer with Wonwoo. You're unsure if he'll actually ask you on a date, but the possibility leaves you feeling anxious and excited.

After a few moments, Wonwoo makes his way back to Hoshi’s garage, where the rest of the Supra NFZ crew has gathered, minus DK himself. Despite being a part of the team for two years now, Wonwoo has never actually met DK in person; he only knows of him through reputation. Stepping out of his car once it's parked, Wonwoo strides toward the table where the other members are gathered, their attention absorbed by a lively card game as they await his arrival. The first to acknowledge Wonwoo’s presence is Dino, the youngest member of the team.

“Oh, hyung! You’re back!” Dino exclaims, his cards dropping onto the table as the rest of the crew swivel around to greet Wonwoo. Rising from his seat, Hoshi gestures for Wonwoo to join them at the table.

“A’ight… Now that all of us are here, at least the Seoul division, let’s first congratulate Wonwoo for his performance tonight,” Hoshi announces, his applause prompting the other members to follow suit with cheers of approval. Wonwoo accepts the praise with a smug smile before settling into his seat at the table.

“I told you I could do it… Choi Seungcheol really thinks he won because poor Wonwoo didn’t know his way around,” he jests, his eyes rolling playfully as laughter ripples through the group. Rising to his feet, Dino takes it upon himself to retrieve beers for everyone before resuming his place at the table. After taking a sip of his drink, Wonwoo sinks back into his chair, the tension in his muscles easing slightly. “So… What’s next?” he inquires, his tone laced with curiosity.

“Hm… Right.” Hoshi sets down his beer, reaching for his notebook and flipping it around to display the screen to the assembled members. The file on the screen contains scant details about Seungcheol’s crew. “Here’s the plan. We need you to gather intel. Gain their trust, blend in, and become one of them. DK’s orders.” Hoshi outlines, his gaze locking with Wonwoo’s as he emphasizes the importance of discretion. Wonwoo nods in solemn understanding, taking another sip of his beer as he absorbs the gravity of the task ahead. “You still need to maintain your cover by using that beat-up car as your alibi to coax S.COUPS into helping and teaching you a thing or two. You cannot afford to be discovered. Understood?”

“Got it.” Wonwoo’s response is resolute and brimming with confidence, his determination evident in his tone. Hoshi shifts his attention to the rest of the group, clicking a button to transition to the next slide on his presentation.

“Great… Now, we know Seungcheol has a stepsister… I believe the best person to try to use her would be-”

“I can do it.” Wonwoo’s assertive voice slices through Hoshi’s sentence, prompting the short-haired man to give him a thorough once-over. “I actually spoke to her today and even got her number. She thinks I’m taking her out on a date later, so… Let me handle the Chois.”

“She isn’t a Choi. Not like Seungcheol,” Hoshi murmurs, his voice carrying a note of skepticism as he closes the notebook and straightens his posture. “I’m not entirely convinced you can handle her…” His arms cross over his chest as he subjects Wonwoo to another round of scrutiny, his gaze flickering to the other members of the team, gauging their reactions before finally shrugging. “But fine. If she gave you her number, there’s potential. But no romantic feelings, Jeon. Don’t make me regret it.”

As he checks his watch and rises to his feet, Hoshi lets out a muttered curse, hastily finishing the remnants of his beer and scrambling to gather his belongings. “Now scram. It’s late and y’all still need to work tomorrow. Dino, tomorrow you’re training Jun. I need him ready by the end of the month; Metaworld is happening, and we need him since Wonwoo will likely be racing for Seungcheol’s team.”

Dino and Jun exchange nods of understanding, echoing a simultaneous “yes, sir.” “Great! Hao, you’re in charge of DK’s new car’s design. He wants something along the lines of green neon fire. Don’t ask me what or how; just get it done and send it to me when it's ready.” Snatching up his car keys, Hoshi beckons to Seungkwan, and the two of them stride purposefully toward Hoshi’s car, an eye-catching orange 2020 Dodge Charger Hellcat Redeye. “Wonwoo, you’re heading to S.COUPS’s restaurant tomorrow. I’ll text you the address. Don’t forget about it.”

And with that, the rest of the crew departed the garage, their engines roaring to life as they dispersed into the night. Wonwoo offers a casual wave goodbye to his teammates as they peel out in their respective vehicles, leaving him alone in the empty space. Retrieving his cellphone from his pocket, he quickly shoots you a text, a simple confirmation that he indeed had your number.

"No romantic feelings," he mutters to himself with a scoff, dismissing the notion as he locks his phone. But deep down, a seed of doubt lingers. Maybe he didn’t realize it yet, but the wheels of fate had already been set in motion.

He would find himself drawn to you, just as you would to him.

☆ taglist: @kwonshiho - @aaa-sia - @tootheiass - @vlbi - @soonyoonswoo - @bekah931215 - @i-lovegojo

#wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo smut #kpop scenarios #svt scenarios #scenarios #seventeen scenarios #svt smut #au smut #svt angst #smut #seoul drift

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sebsbarnes · 3 months

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scarlet flags || tangerine

tangerine x f!reader

summary: you called me angel for the first time, my heart leapt from me

warnings: suggestive- minimal descriptions, toxic situationship

word count: 860+

masterlist

"you don't get to call me every time you get lonely, then pretend you don't know who i am when i'm not hidden behind the walls of your room" you spit, the venom in your tone nearly lethal.

he tutted as you turned away, "don't be ridiculous, angel."

you snapped your head to him, jabbing your pointer finger into his chest, face mere millimeters from his, "you!- you don't get to call me that. don't you fuckin' call me that.

tangerine lazily intertwined his fingers in yours as he hovered above your body. his lips moved soft yet feverishly against your own, it was bliss. you felt intoxicated and you silently prayed the high wouldn't come down. tangerine pulled away and started peppering kisses across your cheek until he reached the skin below your ear. with his teeth he nipped at the flesh pulling it into his mouth, surely to leave a purple splotch on your skin, his mark as if he were an artist. tangerine slid down your body, his lips ghosting down your chest and stomach until he got to your underwear, and through his dark lashes, he looked at you.

"is this okay, angel?" he whispered, his fingers wrapping around the waistband.

angel. this was the first time he called you that. it made your stomach flip, angel. you loved the inflection in his accent when he spoke the nickname. the nickname for you. you felt like you were his. it made your heart leap and you swore a piece of itself landed in tangerine.

"okay, okay! i won't call you angel," tangerine said defensively.

you rolled your eyes in disgust, racking a hand through your hair. he was agitating, this conversation was agitating. tangerine was a smart man so it was surprising when he seemed to act dense to avoid conflict.

"besides, i don't know where you got the idea that i ignore you in public love, i don't," he said crossing his arms.

"oh really? so last week at the gathering? or the gathering before that? you looked through me, like a window, pretended i was nonexistent. do you not realize how that feels?" you spewed.

a silent nod was all he gave you when you greeted tangerine at the work event. perplexed, you raised an eyebrow at his retreating figure but didn’t dwell on it too long now being sidetracked by ladybug. these work gatherings were really an excuse to drink and boast about whatever successful mission you had just come back from. truthfully, they were boring, but it was an unspoken rule that it was mandatory.

ladybug chatted about his healing foot from a gunshot wound but your eyes and mind were elsewhere. across the dimly lit room, tangerine stood with a puffed-out chest talking about the recent bolivia job. his eyes would wander across those listening, soaking in the praise before looking at you. it was quick and not like he had been caught, but as though it was an accident.

watching as his eyes looked up and down at one of the women standing beside him, he smoothed out his mustache before placing a hand on her waist. she threw her head back in laughter and her lips forming the word 'please' as she toyed with his collar.

you hate how you felt. you weren't his, you knew that, but you spent countless hours underneath his sheets and on top of his body and to sit here and be nonexistent made you mad, made you feel little. unfortunately, tangerine had a way of still making you want him and you know you shouldn't. it's funny, really, how his true colors shine in darkness and secrecy.

"c'mon, it wasn't like that, love," he tsked, uncrossing his arms and taking a step forward.

"but it was," you said pointedly.

tangerine sighed, running a hand through his curly hair, "y'know i'm no good at this stuff."

"i don't care if you don't want a serious relationship, tangerine. what i care about is having some respect and not being some disposable body. and what i hate the most is you keep drawing me in and you aren't even doing anything," you spoke.

it was the truth. you'd text each other how you miss the other, saying you wish you could feel him in you, or he'd say he misses your skin and you'd find your way over to his apartment. he'd greet you at the door with strong arms around your waist. most times few words were spoken before you'd find yourself in his bed with his head between your legs crying out to some foreign god.

what you hated most was standing before him now, his eyebrows pulled together and his tongue sucking at his teeth you still felt the unseen magnetic pull to him. you knew that eventually the piece of your heart that leapt into his the first time he called you angel would be broken. though, in this moment you knew after a few more bitter words and rolling eyes you'd find yourself in his arms again, and again. somehow tangerine's scarlet flags would always be washed out in the light of his room.

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stayandot8 · 10 days

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Whispers In The Dark, Part One: Lying Through Your Teeth

Genre: college au, not all members mentioned

Relationship type: strangers to friends

Important Contents: Mr. Popular Chris Bang can't remember who he was before school. But with her? Maybe he might find a path that would lead him back to himself. But how far can he go before the rumors and his reputation become too much for her to ignore?

WC: 6.4k

masterlist

He was notorious. For what, no one could agree on, but he was well known around campus. Some would say it was his skill in bed, others would say his charms would keep him from any kind of trouble with anyone, professors and other students alike. His easy grace with people, especially strangers, made him the perfect showman for the school. He was at all the major events. It was like the head office paid him to be there, cheering when appropriate and constantly surrounded by his fraternity brothers. It was rare that he was caught without at least one of them within three feet of his personal space. It was also a well known fact that there was a roster kept hidden in the depths of his mind of those he hung around with in public, in private, and those he tossed to his brothers. It was like a hierarchy. All the girls knew where they stood with him and used that information against each other when they needed to.

Chris Bang, appropriately named, was the top man on campus. When he approached you, you couldn’t help but say hello. And if he struck up a conversation with you, it felt like catching up with an old friend. He always wanted to know how you were doing, how your classes were going, and he was genuinely interested in the answer. He asked about your family, your friends, anything that would spark up a conversation with you. And by the time he found something that you had in common, you were hooked. The way he listened to you made you feel like he was your best friend and for those minutes, he was.

He cared about people, truly. No one could act like that around people if they didn’t care about them. He was warm and inviting, like a hug when you really needed it or a warm shower after a day out in the snow. His gaze was that of a toasty fire, you could curl up in one or both with a book and live there forever.

He was across the courtyard, surrounded by his usual entourage of fraternity brothers in their lettered sweatshirts and crewnecks. Each one had a girl next to them, talking emphatically with their heads held high. The Chosen Ones for the day, week and each somehow prettier than the last. They all seemed so engrossed with one another that no one dared interrupt their conversations.

“Hey! If you stare any harder, you’ll burn a hole in their heads. And those poor girls can’t afford for anything to fall out more than it already has.” Charlie’s words clanged around in my head until they landed and I burst out laughing.

“That’s so mean.” I shook my head at her, still smiling from laughter.

“Ask me if I care. Now come here and help me with this paper. I paid for your breakfast this morning for this.” I scooted closer to her laptop on the blanket she had spread out hours ago on the Great Lawn. She moved her coffee cup so I could sit where she desired and turned her laptop to face me. “How can I make this point more clear?” I glanced at the words on her screen, reading, until an obnoxious eruption of laughter interrupted my train of thought. I whipped my head back over to the cluster seated at the tables and traded my earlier look of curiosity to one of annoyance. Unluckily, or maybe luckily, this caught the attention of one of them. Chris made eye contact and nodded in my direction with that easy smile of his. I rolled my eyes large enough for him to see and turned back to Charlie.

“Well, I think you have to stop using so many descriptor words. It’s confusing to read and I can’t tell what you’re actually trying to say. It seems like you’re saying you believe that Chekov’s plays had clear and concise endings when they really didn’t.”

“I’m getting him and Tolstoy confused again.” She hit the ground with her hands balled into fists. “Which one wrote The Living Corpse?”

A voice appeared in front of our blanket.

“That’s Tolstoy.” Chris Bang himself appeared as if from nowhere, black backpack strapped on and hands in his pockets. His hat was backwards, the casual gesture fitting for the jeans and black t-shirt he sported. He was rarely spotted wearing something different, it was his signature look of sorts along with his shining eyes and curious questions.

“Yeah, that’s him.” I pulled my eyes from Chris to look at Charlie, who in turn was staring at me with a really weird look on her face.

“Thanks, Chris. Have you done this essay yet? I swear the longer I’m in Schwartz’s class, the more I hate my life.”

“I did, I just finished it actually. Took me longer than normal because of the word count requirement.”

“I know, it’s like he wants to kill us.” I snorted and picked up her textbook to flip to the page she would need. I look back up to find Chris’s eyes back on me.

“Are you in this class too? I don’t remember seeing you in there.”

“Oh no, I took his class last year. I’ve already been through that torture. Aced the class somehow.”

“That’s why she’s here, to make sure that my torture is just as bad as hers.” Charlie glared at me from the corner of her eye, making Chris laugh.

“Damn, you’re lucky. You’ve got someone to help you. I’m out here struggling to maintain my C.”

“Well, you’re welcome to join our suffering, Chris. I’m dying over this paper and she’s laughing at me.” Charlie shot me a confident smirk, seeming to have picked up on something that I absolutely was not putting down. I furrowed my brows at her, the thought never crossing my mind about inviting him to share our blanket or the day’s exceptional weather with campus’ Mr. Popular. But there my best friend was, offering him a place in our little circle.

“I would, but I’ve got an economics class to get to. But here, when you get a chance to come back out here to study, shoot me a text and I’ll come right over.” He stooped to rip a piece of paper out of a nearby notebook and a pen. He jotted something down and handed it straight to me, locking eyes with me as he handed it over. He paused, his face frozen in a soft smile and everything around us froze along with it. The wind stopped blowing, I paid no mind to Charlie, who I would find in a second was gaping at Chris, and I felt the spark that everyone felt when interacting with Chris Bang. The butterflies came in with a strong gust of chilly October air that unfroze the moment we were stuck in. He found his voice then. “Give me a call sometime.” he said softly.

“Yeah. For sure.” I whispered back against the rustle of the trees. Chris Bang winked at me and then he was gone. The piece of notebook paper was the only physical proof I had that he had been there and it sat in my hand until Charlie practically dove to reach for it.

“Did you just get Chris Bang’s number?” She opened it and showed it to me. The series of numbers wasn’t the only thing on it. They were accompanied by a short message in his very un-boyish handwriting. ‘Call me :)’ “You have to call him later today. And don’t you dare do it without me.”

“Call him and say what? That I’m happy to be on his list of girls? Or to put me down for the newest girl to be conquered? Girl, please. I’m not Rome, I am not to be ‘conquered’.” I nodded with certainty, resolute in my mindset. Charlie just watched me, smirking and pulling her mouth to one side.

“Yeah. For sure.” She mimicked my earlier words to him. Shaking her head at me and laughing no doubt to herself, she returned to her laptop and started typing. I couldn;t tell her that while I fully believed every word I had just said, that didn’t mean that the butterflies had gone right away. They stayed there, fluttering in the space he created. It hurt that I could feel how badly they wanted to be let out.

I stared at the number on the piece of paper for the next few hours, going back and forth on whether I wanted to act on his invitation. Who knew the weight of a scrap piece of paper was so heavy? On the one hand, he seemed nice enough with no outright bad intentions other than to study. Whether he needed the extra study time or not wasn’t up to me, nor was I in the mood to find out right this second. But on the other hand, was this just a way to find a new girl? Yes, he was selective when it came to who he was interested in and his level of interest was measured by how long he pursued you. Making him wait was the way to maintain his interest. At least, that was what outside speculation had agreed on with further research and trial-and-error. To those he wasn’t interested in, he was always polite about it, but that left room for them to conduct these experiments. And the results were inconclusive. He didn’t have a type, it seemed random at times, and all of the girls seemed physically different. Only one conclusion could be officially drawn: he liked girls. That was it.

Word that he had given out his number to his newest attempt hadn’t seemed to get around yet since I didn’t have girls eyeing me up and down all day. I was relieved since I hadn’t decided if I was going to use it yet, which was what I was debating now sitting in the shared room I had. My roommate, Rihannon (yes, like the song), was out, as she normally was. Ever the social butterfly, she joined a sorority the moment she stepped on campus and hadn’t sat down since. She was always going out with her sisters, going to mixers with the different fraternities on campus, or making new friends on a blanket of her own on the Great Lawn. All of these things were a perfect fit for her because she, like Chris, had the magnetic pull with people. They wanted to know her. And she wanted to know them too. She was nice, a friend until the very end, making her the perfect fit for the social scene. But her social expertise did me no good if she wasn’t here.

So I was left to my own devices. Charlie hounded me until I ran away to catch the bus to get home.

“You better text him tonight! I want to see him at our spot by noon tomorrow if he can! And you better have proof if he can’t!”

I had rolled my eyes at her. Typical Charlie behavior, sticking her nose in every business I had. This time I couldn’t blame her though since she had been present for this cosmic event. Is that what this was? A cosmic event? Had the stars aligned for this moment to happen today of all days? It was up to me if they had. And as the time grew later, the minutes were passing by, counting down until Charlie would kill me tomorrow or not.

Ugh. Fine. You win this time. Both of you.

To: Chris Bang

I left the message open, thinking for too long about what to say to this mystical man that gave me his number out of blue. I debated texting Charlie to ask what I should say, but I knew her answer. ‘Just text him hi! Nothing scary about that.’ How wrong she was… I took a deep breath, letting my chest rise and fall fully before picking up my phone again.

To: Chris Bang

Tomorrow, under the tree next to the Lewis building. That’s our normal spot. No later than noon or else I’m toast.

I threw my phone across the bed, somehow thinking that if I held it when he answered he would know and he would think I was staring at my phone and waiting for his answer. I mean, I was, but he didn’t need to know that.

My phone lit up across the bed. I couldn’t read what waited for me on my home screen and I could feel my heart beating faster the closer I drew to my phone. It was like a ticking time bomb, even when I knew it wasn’t. I crept until I could see that the waiting message was indeed from him. And what I read when I opened it made those butterflies that had finally quieted start up again.

From: Chris Bang

We can’t have that, now can we? ;) I’ll be there with my books. What are we studying?

I could and couldn’t believe it. Some part of me that was simply a girl was ecstatic that a boy was flirting with me, according to Charlie. The other, more cautious part that was protective of that girl, was wary. I wasn’t looking for another heartbreak and I was not wanting to set myself up for one.

To: Chris Bang

Why don’t you come and find out?

Damn it.

“Why am I nervous? I didn’t talk to him last night. But then again, I didn’t buy coffee for him either.”

“Charlie, I swear to god.” The chilly September air was unusual for so early in the month, but it was that time of year here. The mornings were colder so you wore a jacket and by midday, you wondered why you even brought one in the first place. “The girl asked me if I wanted a mess-up and you know I’m not one to turn down free anything. So I said sure. End of story. I wanted a muffin too but they didn’t have any left. The girl said some guy came in and bought them all. I did not buy him a coffee. Who knows if he even likes coffee?”

“I don’t know. But I know that if he accepts it, that says something.”

“It really doesn’t.”

“It does too.”

“It says he likes free things. That’s about it. Who doesn’t like free shit?”

“I know I do.” Chris’s voice came from behind us just then, carrying a bookbag and a paper bag in his hand. “They had more muffins than they knew what to do with so I grabbed some.”

“Such a gentleman.” Charlie leaped for the bag and tore it open. “Ugh, I love Coffee Bean’s muffins. We also have extra coffee if you want it. She picked it up before she got here.”

“Oh, thanks!” Chris grabbed the cup and took a sip, his lips curving to the shape of the cup. It was that moment I took the chance to really look at him from top to bottom. His hair was parted off to the side and he had opted for a white t-shirt with our university on the front. Jeans and vans completed the look and a worn leather bracelet adorned his wrist. It almost looked homemade.

“That’s a cool bracelet.” I said as cooly as I could manage, trying not to stare at it too hard. He touched it with\a gentleness that resembled fondness, like he was remembering something to do with it.

“Thanks, my sister gave it to me before I left for school. She’s back home in Austrailia.” It wasn’t news on campus that he wasn’t from America. His accent was a dead giveaway. “She likes to say that she hates me but when I remind her about this, she gets real quiet.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister, I have one too. She moved from my hometown to Arizona. Followed where her connections took her or whatever. But she’s happier there than she ever was back home. Even found herself a girlfriend.”

“Oh wow, she must really be thriving over there then. That’s great for her. I wish my sister would find someone just so she have something else to do other than torture me through the internet.”

“How does she do that?” I took another sip of my coffee.

“She’s really growing in fame on Tiktok. She actually put out an EP not too long ago. Called Perfect Blues. She let me listen to it before she put it out for notes and stuff and it’s actually pretty good!”

“I'll have to give it a listen then if it’s that good. She must have worked really hard on it.”

“Yeah, she’s been working non stop promoting and writing new stuff. She’s actually good. It’s hard for me to believe because I still see her as my little sister. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”

Charlie was being awfully quiet, scarfing down the muffins Chris had brought. When I spotted the wrappers placed beside her and counted them. “Charlie, did you eat all of the muffins? How many are in there?”

“Oh please, there are plenty left. You two just seemed to be engrossed in conversation, I didn’t want to interrupt.” She eyed me like she had the day before when Chris gave me his number. I couldn't help my eyes rolling in response. This girl will be the death of me…

“So what are we doing today? I know I have a paper that’s due on Friday, but I can do it later-”

“See, Chris? Maybe it’s a good thing you came to us this early in the semester. This is the time we do all of those things we say we’re doing ‘later’.”

“Charlie is very intent on keeping her GPA above a 4.0. We’ve been doing this ever since freshman year, but we only found this spot last year during Spring semester. She’s been on my ass ever since, which is why I have the grades that I do. She keeps me on top of my shit and I make sure she comes up for air every once in a while.” Chris nodded along to my words, listening intently and watching. Charlie just nodded along.

“You’re welcome by the way.” She turned to Chris, coffee in hand. “I’m the reason she passed stats with flying colors last year.” I rolled my eyes for the second time in a two-minute period.

“That’s just what I like to tell her. Makes her feel more important.” I whispered over to him, which in turn made him laugh. I hadn’t heard it up close like I just had two seconds ago. When it was a genuine laugh, he almost squeaked on the intake like a door that needed to be oiled. It was an easy laugh to crave to hear. I knew it would haunt me like a ghost in the weeks to come, even then. Chris grabbed his laptop out of his backpack and started typing, pulling books from the backpack as well to occasionally look up an answer to something he was typing. I pulled out my headphones when the comfortable silence fell, leaving one ear open to the world outside of my own bubble.

“Whatcha listening to?” Chris poked my thigh from where he was laying on his stomach on our blanket.

“This and that.” I couldn’t help my smile when his attention was on me. It was like a shot of sunshine straight to your veins.

“Just this and that? Do you mind if I also listen to ‘just this and that’?” His question shouldn't have caught me by surprise, but I found myself handing him my other headphone despite myself. “I think someone’s music taste says a lot about that as a person. Well, movies and music.” He stuck it in his ear and returned to his laptop, typing away.

“I love the Princess Bride. It’s one of my favorites.”

“Mine too.” He turned his sparkling eyes back towards me and smiled. I felt the blush creep up to my cheeks and I had to look away or else risk him catching it.

I flashed a glance towards Charlie to see if she had caught the exchange. She had, because she was wiggling her eyebrows at me. ‘Oh my god’ she mouthed at me, glancing at Chris to see if he was watching. He was not. And when she turned back to me, she picked up her phone, indicating that the conversation would continue there.

From: Charlie

Dude WHAAATTTT??? I told you, he likes you!! That was not a coincidence.

To: Charlie

I still think you’re nuts

From: Charlie

Think me nuts all you want, but I’m about to prove it.

I looked up from my phone to catch her eye. ‘How’ I mouthed in my most disbelieving look. It didn't occur to her that Chris was just looking for his newest girl to conquer, and I didn’t want to spoil her fun, so I just sat back as she mouthed back to me ‘Watch’.

“Hey Chris?” He looked over his shoulder to her with his eyebrows raised. “I promised my friend over here that I would take her out for dinner tomorrow night, but I have to cancel. My boyfriend’s birthday is tomorrow and I totally forgot. He’s not around here so I have to call him and do this whole long distance date and everything. Anyway, I thought maybe you could cover for me with her?”

I could do nothing but stare at my own textbook. One half of me was embarrassed that she would be so obvious with her plans. And even without my real knowledge of it. She would pay for that tonight, without a doubt. The other half couldn’t watch the trainwreck about to crash when he said he had plans. That half would be crushed when he said no, he’d have to pass like he did when he was trying to be polite when a girl asked him out and he didn’t want to go. Either ‘sorry, I have to pass this time’ or ‘I just don’t have the time right now’. Either of those were the responses I was waiting for. Definitely not

“Sure! Is that okay with you?”

Unable to feign my deafness when he poked me again, I mumbled a quick ‘hm?’ so they could catch me up to speed.

“Charlie had to cancel on you, so I’m taking you out tomorrow night.” His excitement was an unexpected surprise. Charlie beamed triumphantly from behind him at me, relishing in her victory.

“Oh really?” I said a hair more fake than I meant to. When I tore my eyes away from Charlie to look at Chris, he had a confident but genuine smile to show me. And damn it, I couldn’t help but return it every time. “And where are we going?”

“I’ll text you the details tomorrow. Just be ready by 6, yeah?” He didn’t wait for an answer and returned to his laptop.

The excitement of going on a date with a cute boy, no matter who he was, still ran through me like it was any other date. Charlie would pay for it, no doubt. But the thrill was still there that maybe, just maybe, he might be what Charlie suspects. But only time would tell.

Chris was normal the rest of the time he laid with us on our blanket, making occasional jokes with Charlie about their shared class, the professor, and the stupid people in that class. This left me with the opportunity to look around and see if anyone noticed the Mr. Campu Man had picked a new spot to hang out. His usual crowd was seated near the picnic benches where they normally were. None of them seemed any kind of curious as to where their fearless leader was, and that seemed completely fine by them. It was when he left for his class load for the day that Charlie really got her proof.

“Alright guys, I gotta head to bio. But if the invitation is still open, I’d love to come tomorrow too.”

“Only if you bring more muffins or some other baked good with you. If not, don’t bother showing up, Bang.” To that he chuckled and when Charlie didn’t chuckle back, he glanced my way.

“Oh, she’s serious.”

“As a heart attack.” Chare chimed in without looking up from her laptop. Chris kept his face blank for a second longer, then nodded in resignation.

“Any specific requests?” He said this part to me, asking me directly. I thought for a second. If he was going to go through with it, then what was the harm?

“Bagels, if you please sir.” I said in my best mocking voice, leaving it up to him to decide if I was telling the truth or not. He laughed again and put on his now fully packed backpack.

“As you wish.” He replied and left without another word.

A hard slap hit my arm the second he was far away enough from us.

“Oh my god!” She hit me on the arm again and again until I had to grab her wrist to make her stop. “I knew it! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it!”

“Why are you freaking out more than I am?” I buried my nose in the closest textbook to me to hide my face in.

“Mainly because I was right. But also because of the simple fact that a cute boy likes you! And I called it. How am I more excited than you?”

“Mainly because he didn’t even ask me. You asked him for me. He’s just being nice, Charlie. No one can say no to you, don’t you know that?”

“Girl. If he didn’t want to go, he would’ve said no. He has no problem saying no and you know that. I really don’t think he would have said yes if he didn’t want to.” I just shrugged, telling myself that she was right, but at the same time not wanting to believe it myself. I couldn’t bring myself to fully insert myself in the daydream that Charlie was living in, fighting the urge to run away and hide for good.

“I just-” I sighed and laid back on the blanket, letting the sun warm the air around me and breezes come and go. “I think I would be more excited if he had asked me himself.”

“He just needed to know that you would be into it. Give him a chance and see how he acts tomorrow night. If he’s a douche, then call me and I’ll get you out of it. But if he’s nice and into you, then that’s kinda your answer, isn’t it?”

“I guess.”

Wait and see. That was my plan. That was all I had.

After my classes of the day were over, I went back to my apartment with Rhiannon to unload in a hot shower. Rhiannon came in while I had my towel wrapped around me on the way back to my room.

“Hey! How was your day?” She asked from her place in the hallway amid the ruffle of bags she dropped by the door. She only brought one to the couch with her and rifled through it to find her laptop.

“Pretty interesting, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” She inquired, ready for more details as she peered from behind her computer.

“Yeah, I got asked out, well not really asked out-”

“BY WHO?!” She shrieked, throwing the laptop aside to jump out of her seat.

“Chris Bang?” She stops in place and turns to face me dead on. Her features were frozen in a mixture of shock and what looked like…sadness.

“Chris Bang?” She repeated.

“Yeah. He didn’t really ask me out of the blue, Charlie made up some lie about us having plans beforehand when we really didn’t and she asked him if he would take her place, which he did.”

Rhiannon was pensive as she watched me recount the details, not letting me forget a single one. She even asked me exactly what his words were when he agreed to it and what exactly happened afterwards; his mannerisms, the word choice, and the nature of his body language.

“It sounds like he was actually interested, if that helps you. From what you can recall, you don’t have to worry about that part. But you seem disinterested now. Why?”

“Because he didn’t actually ask me.”

“So?”

“He’s just filling in, he felt bad that I would be left hanging.”

“I don’t think he would’ve agreed if he didn’t actually want to go.”

“Rhi…”

She was eyeing me up and down, gauging my words against her own knowledge.

“Why can’t you believe he would like you? What’s so hard for you to believe?

“It’s not that, I just don’t want to be next in the queue. I don’t want to be just another girl he’s gone out with, no matter how cute he is or how smooth he can be. I wanted to be able to resist him because I know better than to believe-”

“Believe what? That a boy with eyes can have a crush on a pretty girl? That a cute boy would see the same thing your friends are seeing? What’s so unbelievable about that?”

I sighed. “All of it. Why him? Why me?”

“Why not him? Listen, if you’re really that worried about it, just take it slow. Don’t do anything you wouldn’t normally do on a date with a guy and just treat him like any other guy. That should ease your nerves, right?”

“No.”

“Maybe picking out your outfit ahead of time will help give you more confidence. Come!” She sprung off the couch and headed for my bedroom without turning to see if I was following. By the time I passed through my door, she was already piling clothed on my bed a foot high already.

“How do you have nothing in here! What do you normally wear on dates?”

I rolled my eyes.

God help me.

He picked a good spot, I had to admit. Not to him, not to inflate what I was sure was a big enough ego. But Marty’s was far enough away from campus that we would be uninterrupted by any of his friends but not so far that we felt secluded from society altogether. The restaurant had a good enough reputation among students to be a good place to bring a date if you want some special alone time together. The implication of him bringing me here was not lost in the bounds of my thinking mind.

The room was warm and inviting, a red kind of wallpaper surrounded us with candle lit sconces in the upper columns and casted the dining room in a warm glow. The wooden tables helped the cozy feeling as soon as you walked in, as most of the furniture in the large room matched the rest of the dining room. The walls were graced with vintage-looking florals paintings that looked like they could’ve been plucked straight from an art magazine.

“Did I mention that you look nice tonight?” Chris blushed as he asked, turning his gaze back downwards toward his menu. His repetition of the question caught me off guard, being the third time he had mentioned it.

“Yeah, you did. But thank you again.” I tried to flash him my best comforting grin, which he looked up just in time to catch.

“I’m sorry, I’m not normally this nervous.” He smiled again and let out a nervous chuckle, rubbing his hands on his pant legs.

“Why are you nervous? At least your friend didn’t have to ask someone out on a date for you.”

“How do you know she and I didn’t plan something elaborate while we were in class because I was too nervous to do it myself?” I laughed at the preposterous notion that Chris Bang could be too nervous to do anything ever. “What was that for?” His smile was back in place of his nervous chuckle.

“I’m sorry, you just don’t ever seem nervous to do anything. So the thought of that just isn’t possible.”

“Why ever not?” He was quizzical, raising his brow at me from across the table and ruffling his white button down. His black earrings initially had given me some pause but the longer I looked, I saw the Prada logo and how well they matched his tailored pants. They had a light gray pattern going around them and hit him just above the ankle. He oozed wealth when dressed like this, not that I had seen him this way until now. His hair was perfectly styled to a side part, a few strands falling into his face. His dress shoes almost seemed too fancy for the restaurant he brought me to with their gold chain going across the top.

His family must have had money.

“You just don’t seem like you get your feathers ruffled very easily. Very go-with-the-flow kind.”

“You’re not wrong. But when the first half of the plan that wasn’t up to me went perfectly and now it’s only up to me, I’m getting nervous. I haven’t been this nervous before.”

“But why? What’s so different about me?”

“Can I get you guys some wine to start with?” Just then a well-dressed waitress came up to us to hand us a laminated wine list with names I could barely pronounce written in a fancy cursive font. It distracts us enough that I forget what I was thinking before she arrived.

Chris perused the wine list and selected for us, subtly but not so subtly flashing his knowledge just a touch. He eased up a bit as the night went on, bringing up his childhood. Head bounced between Korea and Australia before coming to the states during high school so he and his siblings could have a ‘normal’ education. They lived a few states away so Chris could ward off any unwanted visits from his parents. It wasn't that he didn’t love them, but they could be a lot sometimes. He talked about his sister and how she had stayed in Australia to pursue a musical path. Chris supported her in any way he could, but that life just wasn’t for him. And his youngest brother was in school back in the home state, going through all of the fun life stages of being fifteen.

We had just gotten to what brought me to our university when the dessert had come out. The tension in my shoulders from the anxiousness of the situation had eased immensely and Chris hadn’t uttered a nervous chuckle since the appetizers.

“I picked it because it wasn’t too far from home. I had the same idea you did, except I live in-state. It’s just my mom and me. My dad decided not to be a dad anymore when I was twelve and I haven’t seen him since. From what my mom can tell me, it’s better this way. She doesn’t miss him and that tells me I shouldn’t either. I don’t remember much.”

“I’m sorry that’s the way it is, though. I don’t know what I would do without my dad.” He gave me a sad smile as he picked up his fork. I did the same and reached for the small tower of chocolate between us. It melted in my mouth just like I thought it would, but my thoughts were interrupted by the buzzing of my phone on the table. I picked it up just in time to see Charlie’s name appear on my screen.

“I’ll be really quick, I promise.” I said with a grimace, standing up from my seat.

“No problem! I promise I’ll leave some for you.” He smiled back, assuring me. I nodded and headed out the front door.

“What?” I bit at Charlie.

“Soooo? How’s it going?” Her voice was airy as it questioned me.

“It’s still going and you’re interrupting!” I didn’t want to be rude but in spite of myself and how I got here, I was having a really nice time and I wanted to get back to it before the clock struck twelve and Chris Bang turned back into the popular guy who would forget who I was.

“Okay, sorry! I will await the debrief when you get back! Come straight here!” I hung up on her and reentered the building. Chris was talking to the waitress with an easy smile on his face and my heart sunk. This wasn’t supposed to be a date anyways. Not really. Charlie had done this because she was nice. I had tried not to get my hopes up but the more we talked, the easier it was to believe he might actually like me. So much for that.

He spotted me by the door and waved, motioning to the plate he had left for me to finish if I wanted. I gave him a half smile and headed back over, doing my best to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest.

“Everything okay?” He asked gently. He was putting something into his back pocket while he watched my movements for an answer.

“Yeah, she’s just nosy.”

“Ah. Well, thank her for me when you see her later tonight.”

“For what?”

“Oh, I was being serious. I asked for her help to ask you out because I was too nervous to do it myself.” I just stared at him in disbelief. He waited, with held breath it seemed, for my reaction. And when I didn’t give him one, he continued. “I had seen you around campus with her before and when she showed up in my class, I had to take my opportunity. I’m really hoping that helps me come off as cool or something and not a loser.”

“I don’t think you’re a loser.” I replied quietly. I gave him a reassuring smile and he mirrored it.

“Do you want to head out of here? Go for a walk or something?”

“Sure. Don’t we need to grab the checks first though?”

“Uh, no. It’s all taken care of.” He patted his back pocket when he stood up, which I could now see held a wallet-shaped object.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes I did. It’s only right.” He held out his hand for me to take. “Shall we go?”

Oh boy...

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writersundersiege · 4 months

Text

The New Girl in Town Pt 5

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

a/n: Woah, okay, so this one is a little longer. One, it’s formatted differently; it gives you more perspective of what’s happening. Also, I’m trying to follow Rafe's season one character arc and overall story, knowing now you guys are enjoying the series. I know where I want to go now, but if you guys don’t like how long this is, let me know, and I’ll free-write it and go based on my arc for him and the characters, not on canon events. Please let me know what you think; much love and enjoy!

Summary: The hurricane has hit the Outerbanks, and with a storm that’s torn up Kilandre, emotions seem to be on high. Rafe is still trying to recover from you walking out without saying anything to him. In contrast, you prepare to attend your first Boneyard Kegger. What happens when everything goes wrong? Who do you call when there is no one else to turn to in your town? Will anyone show up when you need them?

MDNI 18+

Warnings: Storms, grief, death, insinuation of sexual themes, violence, weapons, swearing, drug use, and drug abuse, as well as some slight talks of addiction.

After receiving a text, Rafe sits up thinking about yesterday, and his eyes widen, thinking only of the generators now. He scrambles to text a few of his Kook friends to see if anyone can help a man out when Kelce speedily responds that he’s got him; no worries and was planning on dropping by with Topper anyway for Sarah, but they’ll come to help him first.

Half an hour later, Topper and Kelce are helping Rafe quickly set up a generator, but little does he know you are just around the corner because the day before, Scooter had helped the Cameron family storm prep for their boat. Still, before going to Tannyhill, Scooter had helped Charlie prep The Hut since it was your dad's first big hurricane.

Ward was cleaning up fallen tree branches when he heard his name called out, “Hello, Mr.Cameron.” he looked up to see a girl he didn’t know with a worrisome look on your face and holding Lana, Scooter's wife, gently rubbing her shoulder. Ward stood to be able to see you both fully.

Ward quickly leads Lana to Sarah, and you let her know you’ll wait out front to take her wherever she may need to go; she shakes her head and walks off with Ward. As you stand to wait, one of the yard workers takes his opportunity to saunter toward you and strike up a conversation.

Little to your knowledge from below, but standing on the edge of the balcony near the side of the house were Rafe and his friends looking down on you as you laughed and conversed with the boy, probably a few years older than you.

As Rafe watched you in pure bliss, seeming to enjoy the conversation between you, he felt himself brimming with annoyance when suddenly, your head quickly wiped to the front door not far from the boys standing on the balcony just below them to the side.

The three boys watch as you abandon the ongoing conversation with the yard worker boy to take the spot right at Lana’s shoulder; this makes Rafe smirk, watching the boy's displeased face watch you.

Heedlessly to the boy, you walk with Lana back to the road, patting her back and smiling softly at her; they can’t make out what exactly you’re saying, but they all equally watch as you disappear, as usual, into the horizon line, taking a glimpse of the sunlight in your wake until you randomly appear again.

The rest of the day, Rafe didn’t see or hear from you, but he assumed, with how bad the storm was and all the cleanup, that you had other worries than explaining running out on him.

Technically, he’s nothing more than another boy on the new island you call home. These thoughts make him unsound and intolerable. So he glances at the sea momentarily, wondering if you are also glancing at the rolling waves.

Rafe had been doing meaningless things to fill the time; he received a few texts from friends and past hooks-ups about the kegger at the boneyard and another party not too far from Top’s House, and Rafe didn’t want to go to either; he sat and thought for a while, and he then decided to grab some coke from Barry, and then he’ll head out to ride his bike around and clear his head or play a round of golf at the Country Club.

By the time Rafe got ready to waste time, he had thought about maybe stopping by the boneyard; he knew if it were a kegger, there would be pogues swarming that place, and they always picked with shit they didn’t want in the end. He shakes his head, knowing it is ridiculous to want to go even if you are there.

It was about midday when he went downstairs, and he heard Rose and Ward talking; he rounded the kitchen corner to them, shaking their heads. “What happened?” Rafe frowns, looking at his father for more information. “Scooter Grubbs has been found dead. He was out during the hurricane; his boat went down, and he was washed into the marsh.”

Rafe checked his phone immediately to see if there was anything from you, and nothing, just a bunch of messages from Emma asking when they could see each other again; this made Rafe roll his eyes. He continued grabbing a drink from the fridge, stuffing it in his bag, heading out to the garage, and taking out his bike to head to the Cut.

On the other side of the island, you and your family had a considerable hoard of people at your house accepting water bottles and non-perishable foods at a table in your yard with your parents.

At the same time, you sat in the back of the house with Lana Grubbs, who you’ve just returned with from the marina who just lost her husband. You sit slowly, rubbing up and down her upper back, not saying anything; slow resounds of what seems to be Sparks by Coldplay are playing in the surround sound house speakers, most likely through your mom's playlist.

You don’t say anything; what do you say to her? You’ve also lost someone to those raging waves in front of you, watching with her as its tide pulls it up to shore and back out into the sea off to who knows where.

The situation you have both been through has no words to say, so you sit and listen to the music playing through the sound system, humming lightly and listening to the small crash of waves.

You think about Luca, how he never failed to be there precisely when you needed him. Without fail, if something inspired you to make something or do something new, Luca would show up with everything you needed to create what you envisioned. If you so much as thought you were bored, he was knocking at your front door asking to take you to laser tag, the movies, or on beach picnics. The day you turned fifteen, he asked you to be his Valentine.

Luca also made a tradition that year of getting you flowers on the 14th day of every month; he was always cheesy and would say, why should he only show his love one day in the year? But he did every 14th day of every month for nearly four years.

The only thing that broke you from the reminiscent thoughts of a boy you’ll never get the joy of loving again is the slight creaking of the door frame; you turn to see your brother's sad, smiling face.

“Hey, Kiddo, I’ve got to head to the airport. I’m taking Dad and the car. I just wanted to check on you girls to see if you’d like to head home or maybe the place they may have Scooter and see if they’ll let you see him. Mom called your sister, so she’s said to let her know, and she’ll meet you wherever you are.”

Lana’s head pops up, eyes completely bloodshot, looking between you and your brother, eyes resting tenderly on you, reaching to brush a piece of your (H/C) hair out of your eyes and turning to your brother, shaking her head to your brother, “I think I need to go home for a little while” She stands and starts to fold the blanket you had tossed over her shoulders when you came in.

Swiftly, you grab it from her, coaxing her towards Jason, whose hand is laid open; she looks back and forth between you two. “You two are an extraordinary pair of kids,” Jason chuckled, bringing his hand out a little further until she accepted it, and he wrapped her hand around his opposite arm to walk her out. Quietly, he told Lana, “We’re only doing what we hope others would do for us.”

Before she walked out, you called out, “Mrs. Lana!” she and Jason turned to you. You smiled sadly and said, “I hope you know you’re always welcome here for any reason, and thank you for allowing me to be there for you.”

Quickly, she walked forward to you, more tears in her eyes as she hugged you, saying, “Oh sweet girl, I hope someone gives you the world one day.” then she turned back to Jason and started walking out. Jason watches you in his perephislas to see you smile sadly while looking at the sea.

He knows where your mind is again. He turns towards Lana and quickly leads her to Charlie, standing just outside by the Impala. Charlie sees the look in Jason’s eyes as he takes her hand to help her in the car, sending his son a slight nod, and he turns on his heel and runs right back to you on the couch.

When Jason reenters the room, he sees you right where he left you. He quickly picks you up from your sitting position on the couch in a big hug, making you laugh; you go utterly limp in his arms, but hanging your arms around his neck, he sets you down.

Jason puts his hands on your shoulders, looking you straight in the eyes and giving you his this is serious look. “I love you, Kiddo, always okay. You need me. I’ll be on a plane the next day, but take the mantra and make it real (N/N); ride the wave, okay?” with that, he kisses the top of your head and runs out of the house before you can say anything, but now you sit smiling at the waves until your phone pings with a text.

Sarah 🎀🦋: Hey, want to come over and get ready with me? Then you can ride with Kelce?

(F/N)🗺️☀️: Sure, I think I remember him from when I moved in. I’ll be over in about 15. I am going to make a little to-go bag to get ready.

You run up the stairs to your door, throwing it open and digging under your bed for an old black Jansport backpack. In years past, it was used for traveling, so there were patches and pins from countless cities, airports, countries, and historic monuments.

One thing about your family is that traveling is what has made you the way you are. Your mother is a Historian; she is constantly looking for discoveries, a go-getter who never gives up, and she is strong; she can be your saving grace, but she can be your nightmare if you make her.

Then there is your sweet father, who by most people's accounts can be considered as any other clean-cut, white-collar businessman, but your dad loves people and human communication; he’s a charmer or character; he’s the type of man that you can take anywhere, and he is the life of the party. His whole life, he was told he could charm the pants off a dolphin, and he’s shown that time and time again.

Traveling has been a part of your life for as long as you can remember; with two people of your parent's personality, there was no way you could stay in one place, so at nineteen, you’ve been almost everywhere. See so many things. You have met so many people. Yet you’re constantly searching for that piece that clicks in the puzzle. All across the world and in 50 states, you’re still searching for something.

You’re broke from your thoughts when your phone pings again with another message.

Sarah 🎀🦋: Do you want to stay the night? Our AC has been out from the storm, and I was going to sleep on the Druthers tonight; it’s somewhat eerie at night but soothing. Let me know! :)

You quickly shove clothes in the bag for bed and tomorrow and pull your nightstand drawer open, where you graze for your travel makeup bag, brush, and wallet.

Then you run to your closet, picking out a cute bikini with some denim shorts that are so old you can’t even remember where you bought them and an old Malibu beach lifeguard zip-up. You quickly pulled on your white, beat-up old school vans and laced them up.

Lastly, before you text Sarah, you walk to your dresser and look up at the picture of you on Luca's shoulder; you smile and pick up the shell necklace with the ring on it; you had taken it off during clean-up to be sure it was safe.

As you run your thumb over the ring, you whisper to it like it was him, “You and me to the Big Dipper and back.” Then you slowly unhook the necklace, take the ring, and hang it on the same tack that the necklace was before returning the necklace to your neck, kissing your fingers, and touching them to Luca's face

You run and grab your bag, smile on your face, bag slug haphazardly over your shoulder, running out to tell your parents you're off to hang out with Sarah the rest of the day and spend the night. As you ran down the stairs, you responded back

(F/N)🗺️☀️: It sounds like a plan for all of it, be there in 10!

As you quickly run out to the table in your front yard, your parents are cleaning up and putting away the morning of aid they were providing; your dad turns your way when he hears your steps bounding down the front porch towards him.

You run up, placing a kiss on his cheek, saying, “Hanging out with Sarah. Be back tomorrow sometime,” running off, kissing your mom on the head and scurrying towards your Jeep, throwing your bag in and backing out, driving off as quickly as you said goodbye to your parents honking twice to say goodbye once more your parents just share a smile shaking their heads continuing their clean up to return to the house.

As you drove down the messy roads of Kilandre County, you looked around at the new place you were supposed to call home. So far, the waves have been great; it’s been helping inspire some board designs to show your dad. The community service committee seems very put together and involved, which makes you feel better about being here; leaving the YMCA back home for you was super hard. Leaving all the friends you grew up with, all the places you knew like the back of your hand, yours and Lucas's corner of the sky, your spot.

When you went driving across the country to get here, you were so scared you were going to hate it, watching each state grow from ocean to dust, then to plains and green forest, and eventually an island.

While driving through the Cut, you passed quaint homes, each corner of the lawn filled with different yard decorations all across the grasses, wind chimes hanging on porches creating musicality of pitches to sound through the sticky heat, painted bottles, and clay decorations hanging from strings attached to the large tree branches swaying delicately in the afternoon breeze.

Before you knew it, you crossed the bridge to Figure 8, driving through the enormous houses that reminded you of your old summer home in Maine.

Yards, Houses, Cars, and even dogs in the yards are perfectly manicured; everything on this side looks completely uniform and like someone specifically placed them like Monopoly houses on a game board. You were pulling up to your new so-called home immediately, seeing all the wealthy families and their kids in the area swarming for a look at the new kid.

You had lived in Malibu all your life but knew what it was like being the new kid. From early on in your life, actions paired with words affected you significantly. It’s like they latch on to your brain, and anything wrong you say or someone says to you would never escape your mind; it would play like DVD on replay, looping over until you felt you had it right, but it was always too late, it had already happened.

Being in-person for school was never really a place for you, not because you didn’t like the classes but because being around that many people constantly that you’d grown up with, they know you, and they understand your stories; they look for any way to tear into you.

People didn’t make it easy to forget what childhood was like for you. Honestly, girls at school were the biggest problem, starting squandering rumors that would spread and humiliate you, making it too difficult to go back every day.

Suddenly, you were at the next school, trying again. Still, the ones who didn’t stick by you initially would make it their mission to break you into tiny pieces. The only part that always got you through was going home and knowing no matter what, Luca would be there; he, indeed, was the epitome of the words prince charming.

The thoughts spiraling through your head halt as you see the prominent white balconies of Tannyhill. You pull into the driveway and park to the side so you won’t block anyone in or out, and you hop out and scurry to the front door; right as you are about to knock on the enormous front door, it opens, and you almost hit the man standing in front of you.

Standing in the front door foyer is Ward Cameron smiling at you, saying, “Hello, you’re from earlier; how can I help you? How’s Lana?” you smile brightly back at the man sticking out your hand. “Hello, Mr. Cameron, I’m (F/N). Also, she’s not great, but she’s home.” he happily takes your outstretched hand, and before you can say anything else, Sarah sees you from the top of the stairs, calling your name and running down.

Ward steps out of the way and motions for you to come inside, and once you step into the house, you're nearly knocked right back out onto the porch because of the force of Sarah hugging you. She grabs your hand and drags you up the stairs, saying, “Come on, I have so much to tell you.”

You both run giggling up the stairs, and you turn back with your hand still in Sarah’s; the other waves back to Ward, looking at him and saying, “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cameron,” and before he can even say anything you’ve turned back going full speed to Sarah’s room whispering something to her that has you both throwing your heads back euphoric playful laughter erupts echoing through the halls of Tannyhill.

Ward smiles to think Sarah has found a good friend to be around who is like her—walking off into another part of the house to go through the insurance policies, looking for things that may need to be repaired or replaced from the storm.

Usually, down the hall from where you are now, Rafe's room sits empty as he makes his way to Emma’s house because, being the feeble man he is, all of the drugs he keeps doing and the thoughts of you overwhelm him.

Rafe feels he needs an outlet for it, and she’s there, and she’s salacious and unwavering, so he caved, and now he drives over to her house as you and Sarah dance around her room to “Our Song” by Taylor Swift.

The things he misses by allowing the anger to consume him will melt this man into a puddle.

If it weren't for a shred of fate being on Rafe's side that he didn’t have any condoms, and neither did Emma per her message that he stopped at Tannyhill on the way to the other side of the Country Club where she lives.

When he entered the house, he heard the girl's voices echoing through the house singing; one of them sounded like they were harmonizing with the singer on the speaker, which made Rafe frown, knowing there was no way that was Sarah she couldn’t sing in harmony she’s not horrible, but she’s also not a singer.

He made his way to Sarah’s door, which was only one down from his, to see you holding a makeup brush in your hand like a microphone, and now, through the halfway open door, he could hear you, the one harmonizing to the words ideally like you’ve done it a million times Sarah’s is laughing, singing, dancing around her bed frame. Rafe just watched as you completely acted like you were a performer and you were entertaining millions, but lucky for him, it was a personal show.

He stands, watching as you pull Sarah to her bed to stand with you, hurriedly grabbing another makeup brush and handing it to Sarah, standing back up and getting back into character, singing the words, ‘I got to the hallway, well on my way to my loving bed.’ you spin around singing, ‘I almost didn’t notice all the roses and the note that said’ grabbing Sarah and making her spin not so gracefully. She falls on her butt, laughing at herself. You, on the other hand, he watches as you gracefully dance on the bed, the sheets getting wrapped around your ankles.

Nothing would have mattered at that moment because the world was yours, and he was watched on ardently, hoping to be him in there one day with you dancing the sheets off his bed and screeching music like a band of banshees.

Sarah hops down, watching, dancing, singing along as you sing your heart out on her bed. Sarah loved hanging out with you; it was like she was constantly learning something; when people are around you for some reason, you help them remember what it’s like to feel alive.

You are continually laughing with people, listening when needed, or lifting the mood. You are the epitome of the word euphoria, which is nearly the identical thought Rafe has watching you sing total volume in the last post-chorus. Rafe concentrates on how your voice flows over the notes easily; it’s tangible that you’ve done all this before, and Rafe can’t help but feel his heart skip a beat or two just thinking about how often you may do this.

You dance on the bed joyfully, taking advantage of the fact that Sarah’s bed doesn’t sink as much as your cause of the number of times you’ve done exactly what you’re doing now. The entire time you knew, Rafe stood an arm’s length away in the hall, watching that only spurred you to have more fun, knowing the stoic boy you see constantly has some light underneath, and you’ve made it your mission to try and get a smile from him anytime you see him.

Until the end starts to come, you mimic what the singer is saying, taking your hair down and dropping to your knees on the bed, acting like you're writing on a paper and handing it to Sarah; she accepts it, which makes you both start laughing while the next song starts to play on the speaker, and that’s when Sarah looks up to see Rafe standing there.

“Ugh- go be a creep somewhere else, Rafe, like I don’t know,” she lifts her chin evilly; “oh, how about I do know, Emma’s house? You should go there this time since I don’t feel like getting sick every five minutes from all the shit. I hear over in that death trap you call a room,” she says all this as she’s stalking to the door, you sit on the bed wide-eyed and like someone who’s watching an episode of a reality series. You’re waiting for the heartbreaks and the chaos.

Rafe meets Sarah at her door, and before she can close it in his face, he braces his arm, pushes the door in, and puts his foot in the door frame so she can’t shut it, meeting her eyes and saying in a sinister voice, “What did you just say.”

Sarah looks at him with no affliction and speaks quietly to only Rafe, “You heard me; if you want to be sicko with different girls all the time, at least do it somewhere else and not with my friends; goodbye.” She starts to push her door in, but before the door closes, he catches your eyes worried but aimed directly at him like they’re meant for him; looking back, he sees the white of Sarah’s door and the obnoxious attitude of his sister turning up the music so loud he can’t hear anything. Still, the minor tri tones of your and his sister's giggles mix with the melodies of the music.

Rafe strides to his room quickly and texts Emma that he had an emergency come up; he’ll see her around. She doesn’t reply, but Rafe doesn’t care as he lays on his bed listening to you through the wall, knowing your enchanted presence is filling the walls of the room just next door.

Rafe listens and can faintly hear you two giggling and singing at total volume as if a concert is happening in Sarah’s room at Tannyhill. This thought makes him smile sitting there, thinking about how every time he’s seen you, you seem to be heartily enjoying music and life or human connection. Everything about you seems so worldly, and he wants every single bit.

Rafe doesn’t even know how long he listened to the girlish ruse happening in the other room. Until he hears the telltale tone of you and Sarah giggling, and it’s louder, and he hears her call, “Well, be back later, Dad. Love you, we are going out with Top.”

Rafe quickly ran and swung his door open, stumbling over to the railing just in time to see you and Sarah at the front door, and before he could think, he said so coldly, “Where do you think you’re going?” You and Sarah snap your heads to him, and he instantly feels so inarticulate as he watches you and his sister narrow your eyes at him till Sarah says, “Kegger, but you knew that.” she nudges you, which makes you laugh.

“Well…we know you have places to be, Rafe; we won’t keep you. See you later,” you say with so much insinuation behind your words and your face, but still, the pure, gentle smile and eye creases, he’s committed to memory.

The last thing Rafe sees is his smug sister's face staring at him, shrugging, mouthing ‘sorry, Charlie,’ adding a fake pout to throw the dig even further and slamming the front door behind her.

Rafe is nearly off the deep end now; he knew you were going to the boneyard you’d told him, but; he contemplated going; one thing is sure, the pouges always start shit, and he’s not trying to fight in front of you just yet, so Rafe did what he thought would clear his mind; he took his last bump. This only sent him into a further spiral, having him reach for his phone and revoke his text to Emma, telling her to come to Tannyhill now.

On the other hand, outside, you had run out the door before any more words were shared, running towards Kelce, who was standing in front of his Truck next to Tooper, running to him and jumping on his back, scaring the hell out of him until you start acting like the announcer of a ring fight making him laugh.

Sarah ran up, kissing Topper; you hopped into Kelce's truck, and he started it up quickly after you put on your seatbelt, pulling out before Topper even started his trucking, laughing, flipping him off, and mouthing the word loser.

After pulling out of Tannyhill, he handed you the aux, saying, “Alright, Mss. Muse, you’re always listening to some music when I see you, so why don’t you show me your favorite song?” You giddily take the cord and plug it into your phone, scrolling wildly back and forth, and then you look at him wide eyes, huffing out an irritated breath.

“This is hard,” you said with a pout; he laughed then sat a moment thinking and trying to keep his eyes forward but stealing glances every few moments to let you know he was paying attention, saying finally, “How about play me the song you can’t get out of your head right now.” that made your eyes widen even more if that was even possible it made you look like a child in a candy shop “Smart and also much easier.”

Quickly, you scrolled, pressing on a song, and you sat back. You both enjoy the drive to the beach, listening to “3 Nights” by Dominic Fike playing in the background, watching the trees and beach blur past in one. The sun was still shining through the trees, casting rays of light into the car.

You sit and think about beach parties back home, how everyone would go cliff jumping, cave diving, or anything; the kids back home were thrill seekers. Back home collectively, your friends and people you knew would participate in things that could almost nearly positively end up with a broken neck.

You roll the window down, leaning in it slightly, humming the song, pretending your hand is surfing over make-believe waves that is just wind rushing past you. You take big breaths of the salty sea air and let the sun's rays peek and flash through the trees, warming you as you smile and think about how precious life can be; in moments like this, you feel alive.

Halfway through the drive, you look over to Kelce, who’s faintly singing, which makes you start to sing to him, gesturing and pointing, saying, ‘Seems like you can use a little company from me.’ pointing back to yourself at the end looking at him waiting on him and he looks at you from the corner of his eyes smile proliferating across his face singing with you. You throw your head back, laughing in pure joy. After that, you both get into the song, enjoying your time and dancing and being silly to the songs that play through after—enjoying each other's company and the drive.

Once you arrive at the boneyard location, Kelce parks by some Jeeps, Mercedes, and Trucks, waiting for Topper to get there, still listening to music and having a grand time. You and Kelce are enjoying yourself so much you don’t even notice when Sarah and Topper have not only walked over to Kelce's truck but are now watching through the front window; you and Kelce sing back and forth to an imaginary microphone in your hand singing to what was so obvious to hear as ‘Stay with me’ by Sam Smith that Kelce was going in on it wholeheartedly.

The only thing that broke the car concert was Topper knocking on Kelce's window, making the other boy look at him like a deer during hunting season, frozen and petrified. This makes everyone laugh as you turn down the music and open the door where Sarah steps into the opening, leaning over you to Kelce, saying, “Bravo, Encore, I never knew you were such a performer.” his cheeks are entirely red. Topper has his hand on his shoulder. “C’mom big guy, don’t let them bully you just cause you have a prettier voice than them.”

This makes the group laugh as they all make their way out and away from the truck. Kelce lightly shoved Topper. “She’s just got a good playlist; you try to have banger after banger play and not sing. I want to see you try.” Sarah shakes her head in agreement and laughs; she adds, “It’s true (F/N) is very good at choosing music.”

You run in front of the whole group and bow like an actress at the end of the play, saying, “Thank you. I take my playlist very seriously.” With that, your back is turned to the group, heading straight into the swarm of people's heads; the crowd seemed drawn like moths to a flame, turning to your greetings, and you facing all the new people, giving them all with your prize-winning smile.

Through the evening, you talk to tons of people; you learn they group people here in the Outerbanks, which you don’t like because we are all human, but apparently, you learn from one boy that you're something known as a kook cause you live in Figure 8.

You had to think briefly: your dad is well off, but you don’t see yourself as rich. Your parents worked hard for what they had, and the same was expected of you, and that’s what you will do: work hard and succeed.

As the night starts to take over, the sun creates light hues of color on the horizon. You end up bumping into Kiara, whom you met briefly at the clothes drive. “(F/N)(L/N), right?” she asks; you shake your head, saying back to her, “You must be Kiara; sorry we didn’t get more chance to speak at the drive. I caught the flu,” You say shyly, knowing the response is inaccurate. She brushes it off quickly, stating, “No deal; your brother is awesome, and what you planned was amazing. Hey, do you wanna come sit with me for a bit?” you agreed and followed her.

The conversation with Kiara was insightful; you not only met her friends JJ, John B, and Pope, who came from the Cut, but all the boys seemed nice, albeit maybe a little wayward. You learned about some turtle habit construction happening from Kiara and when they will do a turtle release next month;

She asked If you wanted to join her, so you agreed and gave her your contact information so that you guys could contact each other; you sat and talked to Pope for a bit of time about your aspirations and his for the future learning that he wants to be a mortician.

What causes you to press forward into finding Sarah is your conversation with John B. You learned that six months ago. His father also went missing, and he desperately wanted to see him again and believed he was out there still.

This struck a chord in your heart like buildings tumbling down during a demolition; it made your stomach and chest constrict. It made you immediately think of Luca and Cameron and if they could still be out there waiting for somebody, anybody, to come and get them.

You politely excuse yourself from John B in the end, pushing through the crowd, looking for Sarah and Top, finding them near the fire, whispering to each other, and walking straight toward you. When you walk up, Sarah turns, seeing your face looking slightly distraught, asking you what is happening.

When you start to speak, you are cut off slightly by a gasp of air; then, without thinking, you ask, “Where is Kelce?” they look at you and say he left; you shake your head and walk off to sit a moment, and Sarah follows closely dragging Top kneeling by you saying “C’mon will stand in the waves and be at one with the sea.” Sarah reaches her hand out to you, which makes you smile hesitantly; grabbing her hand and standing to walk with her and Topper, who now looks slightly more annoyed than the previously presented concern.

As the three of you walk toward the water, you get stopped by JJ, one of Kiara's friends you didn’t have the opportunity to talk to. JJ waltzed straight up to Sarah after saying something to John B. and asked, “Sarah, can I interest you in a tasty Milwaukee beverage.” she politely declined, and he turned to you and said, “New girl? wanna give it a try?” raising an eyebrow at you curiously you shake your head smiling shyly saying “I’m good-“ he cuts you off saying “What is not fancy enough for you ladies,”

Standing there stunned, you are looking at him with a questioning look like you are not entirely sure what’s happening, all while Topper does his best to diffuse the situation, finally saying, “Hey, you know what? I’ll take it” saying gratitude to the other boy trying to take the cup from his hands you sharply heard JJ say “that’s nice, but I didn’t ask you if you said pretty please maybe” you could tell JJ was trying to get under Topper's skin and get a rise

Topper starts mimicking JJ's words under his breath, all while JJ continues to talk, and Sarah tries to calm them down. You and John B stand, staring at the situation from either side, wondering where to start. Suddenly, Topper smacks the cup of liquid into JJ's face, and the boys are at each other swiftly. JJ grabs Topper by the collar immediately; John B pulls the two boys apart, being proactive, trying to calm JJ down as Topper yells back at them, “Dirty Pouges!”

This makes John B immediately turn and shove him back, chaos breaking loose as you wince slightly, thinking back to how bonfires were back home drama and gossip; yeah, that happened, but this is already out of hand over something as small as a drink.

In a moment, the boys are throwing punches and stumbling back toward the water, fighting each other, and Topper gets the upper hand on John B. You gasp slightly and move past the front of the crowd that was created around where you all once stood to be next to Sarah who is begging Topper to stop and that she wanted to go home

When John B rolls back into the water after a kick to the gut, Topper yells, “Hey, John B, don’t make me drown you like your old man., all right?” this makes you scoff in disgust at your new friend's boyfriend, who when you look into her face she looked just as disheartened by him right now.

As you looked back up, John B propelled back forward as a flurry of energy hit him, and they kept going; it was hard for you to watch; you only looked over twice once when John B yelled, completely enraged in his voice. “Come on, Topper! Let Go! Come on!” looking back over at the waves, wincing when you heard any hard contact. You looked again when you heard Sarah scream, “No, Topper, Stop!”

You look up to Topper, who is drowning John B. You don’t even stop before stepping forward from where you held Sarah’s shoulder, pressing back and using her body to pull you in front.

You place her protectively behind you, and like approaching a wounded animal or scared dog, you call, “Hey, Topper.” at first, nothing, then a big step that causes a small splash at your feet, you’re shoes getting completely soaked.

Everyone in the crowd is silent; you take one more small step, still far enough away that you’re not in reach, but if Topper surged forward, he would surely be able to take you down into the water as well, but again, you tried.

“Hey, Top, Look at me.” this time, your tone was harsher and firmer, like your brother used with you today when he left back for school or like how your mother used when she told you to do your homework as a child

Nothing Topper kept taunting John B, pushing and pulling his head up and down from the water, essentially drowning the boy right in front of your eyes. Your eyes slightly started to well with tears. Sarah from the side called one more time, “Topper!” one more time to no avail. Shaking your head a moment, looking to Sarah, who looks back, both of you look crestfallen; you only look when you hear gasps.

You look up to see JJ walking up with something in his hand, and then you recognize the black steel-looking object, a gun; the world stills. You don’t hear anything; you observe JJ's movements, standing frosted to your spot; you watch the weapon being pressed to the back of Topper's head, which makes the blood run cold through your body, probing your mind for anything you can do at this moment but can’t. None of these people know you; they aren’t going to listen to you. You still can’t hear what the boys are saying over all the commotion happening behind you and within you.

What can be told is Kiara and Sarah are yelling, and you’re standing there shocked at what is even unfolding in front of you when you thought of a beach kegger; this is never what you would have imagined; it all boiling up to what’s happening You hear Sarah yell to him “JJ stop! Put the gun down.”

You chimed in a futile attempt to diffuse what you can, stepping back next to Sarah now that there was a weapon in the equation, saying, “JJ, it’s not worth it; put down the gun.” turning to look at you and Sarah, a dark look on his face.

“Did you say something, princess?” you both stare at each other. You look back not in fear but with sorrow. JJ, still making eye contact, pulls the gun away from his head, bringing it to the side, panting out, “We’re good.” Topper slowly stumbles up from the water while Sarah yells at Kiara.

You take a moment to breathe and ensure you're not shaking when you hear people yelling. You watch as Topper slowly stumbles your way, and gunshots ring out from the gun JJ has raised in the air. Sarah grabs your hand, trying to guide you to Topper’s truck, but ultimately, you lose her in the crowd from all the pushing and shoving.

When you walk through, looking around, you see a few guys who you would most likely classify as kooks standing around; they ask if you need a ride multiple times as you stand there trying, and you lie, saying you’re waiting for your boyfriend until finally, they seem to congregate in a small group together still watching you, but from afar.

You sit alone on a withered log, waiting and hoping the text you had initially typed earlier, right after your conversation with John B, but before the commotion, you can only hope that the recipient will answer you as quickly as they usually do

Halfway across the island, Rafe's phone pings, and he slowly tries to pull from the grasp of the girl lying halfway over him before he hears, “Rafey, don’t; it’s probably just Topper being stupid; he’s drunk; lay back down.” he does only because she was kissing along the expanse of his neck hand trailing down his toned stomach she lets out little moans into his neck. Closing his eyes, he tries to enjoy the feeling as much as he can until his phone starts physically ringing.

Rafe huffs, annoyance pooling through him, leaning over as he hears Emma make a little whine from the loss of contact with him, and when he picks up the phone, putting it to his ear before even thinking to check who it is, saying “Jesus Christ Top can’t you tell I’m busy Em—“

Then he hears it so quietly, a little sniffle just like the first call, and he almost thinks he’s dreaming till he pulls his phone away and sees the word Angel ❤️ written on the top; Rafe puts the phone back to his ear; sitting up straight, which caused Emma to fall back with a huff on his bed entirely.

Gently through the telephone, he says to you, “Angel,” he hears another slight sniffle, and you say quietly again, “Messages,” and with that, you hang up. Rafe starts to panic slightly to think that not only does he almost tell you about the half-naked girl currently sprawled across his sheets, but you won’t talk to him; then he reads the messages

Angel ❤️: Pls, I know it’s a lot to ask, but will you pick me up from the boneyard? Sarah and Topper left me, and some guys are being weird.

Angel ❤️: The cops are here and are talking to me next, so I’m less worried, but if you can, I still need a ride. I can’t go home tonight…

Rafe🪸: I’ll be there. Give me 10 minutes, princess.

Seeing those last messages, Rafe is up and into his closet, Emma whining, saying, “Rafey, what are you doing? You said we’d have fun tonight?” trying to do what could only be described as a pathetic attempt to conquer eyes full of lust roaming him, but lips pulled into a pout. Rafe turns, looking at her dead in the eyes, saying, unfeeling to the girl on his bed.

“Be gone before I’m back.” with that, he was out the door, down the stairs, and on his motorcycle down the road before he could even turn back to see Emma’s angry image slowly stomping down his front porch steps with no shoes and looking highly disgruntled.

Just like he had promised, Rafe's figure takes shape, walking up to you; cops were talking to other kids your age, handing out some tickets to those who they could tell were intoxicated, but you sat, your arms wrapped around yourself, face down all by yourself. He notices your face is pale, and you are looking at your hands, tracing your thumbs back and forth from each hand.

Scanning the area, he sees some Kooks grouped, the group of creeps he assumes, some he knows, some he doesn’t. They watch him walk your way; their eyes are broad, faces starke. He smirks their way and continues his stride toward you; when he reaches you, he leans down, putting his hand gently on your knee, kneeling to try for eye contact.

The contact from Rafe made you look up, your usually gorgeous (E/C) eyes clouded with some darkness; you say in such a small voice, “You came,” a hint of a smile on your face, and it makes him smile back at you “always will angel” he waits a moment letting that sink in for you.

Rafe stands to his full height, holding his hand to you, saying, “C'mon, let’s head home.” You didn’t even think twice before completely interlocking your fingers with his. Even though this surprised him, he guided you to his bike, parked in front of the first cop car. Already, Rafe could feel what felt like the shock from an electric wire meant to keep animals in a paddock. Every time his palm brushed yours, a jolt would go through his limbs. All the while, you were trying so hard to keep your palms away, aware and afraid he’d think you had clammy hands.

He walked you to the side of the bike, grabbing the helmet, saying sternly but almost gently, “ There is only one of these, but…” You begin to cut in. Still, he cuts you off, eyes, brows, and voice slightly raising. “No argument; you are gonna get home safe no matter what, or your brother will freak out on me.” this makes you smile and shut your mouth, letting him slip the helmet on your head and put the straps through on the bottom. When he’s done, he places a hand on either side of the helmet.

He shakes it, smiling at you as you flip up the visor, saying, “Hey,” he chuckles and says, “I’m sorry, angel had to make sure it wasn’t loose,” he flips the visor back down, smiling, at you he helps you on the bike. He lets you know to be careful of the exhaust and that you’ll have to sit as close as you can to him since his bike is technically only a one-person bike.

After assuring you multiple times that he’ll get you to Tannyhill safely and not to worry that he’s got you. he climbed on the bike, starting and pulling off slowly; it’ll still made you jolt forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his stomach and pressing your head firmly to his back as much as you could with the helmet. He turned back, saying softly, “Hold on tight, don’t let go,” and then back forward before accelerating forward.

Along the ride, all Rafe could think about was the thrumming he felt throughout his body, feeling you pressed this close against his back. Behind the helmet, you were taking steady breaths to stop the feeling of electricity in your fingertips every time a finger pressed against his stomach, feeling how toned he was had your heart pumping, praying that Rafe couldn’t feel it on his back.

Not that it would matter anyway cause his heart was beating just as hard, loud, and fast as yours. Anytime you’d hit any bumps, you’d grip him tighter and nuzzle closer; he’d have to take a calming breath.

Eventually, after 25 minutes since he was trying to go easy on the ride, you arrived at Tannyhill. Rafe quickly hopped off, turning to you and unbuckling the bottom of the helmet. He set that on the seat where he was sitting

Rafe helped you off the bike so you didn’t stumble; once both feet planted, he reached up and smoothed the hair on the tops and side of your head that got messy, tracing his hands till he was cupping your cheeks in his palms like delicate flowers about to blow away in the breeze looking in your eyes he whispered.

“You are beautiful.” You lay your head straight into his chest, making his palms rest on the nape of your neck. “Thanks for always showing up, Rafe.” he takes one hand, tilting your head to look at him, saying with a smirk, “I told you always, and I meant it.” That made your cheeks burn a bright red

Standing in front of Tannyhill late on a June evening, you and Rafe stare at each other, orbs tracing each other like the earth and space were colliding to make one big picture or like a string is being pulled taut. You didn’t even realize you were leaning into him and that his hands were trailing to your waist. None of it matters except the feeling of you both trying to press closer but not entirely doing it

Nothing matters until you hear a voice you know that makes you springboard backward from him, standing straight and turning towards the figure, waving and smiling brightly like nothing even happened behind you. Rafe's eyes go from hooded to a scowl directed right at Sarah

Sarah is running to you, wrapping you in a hug, saying, “Oh my god, I am so sorry. I tried to make him go back, but then he complained about cops, and then we fought.” you end up grabbing her wrist and saying, “Sarah, it’s okay.”

You give her your classic smike; she’s already growing to love being around you and your individualistic nature; that’s when she grabs your hand, saying, “ I set up the boat for us. I’ve got my laptop; we can watch Netflix,” letting her pull you off.

You throw one last glance over your shoulder to Rafe; he stands there expecting to meet your eyes one last time, and you do.

You turn and meet his eyes with all the brightness he’s growing to be so fond sparkling like the stars on a clear night; you smirk at him, and that’s how he knows the game of cat and mouse has finally begun, which has him with a devilish grin on his face watching you disappear around the corner of the house.

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

if you’d like to catch up master here- The New Girl in Town

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jisungsdaydreamer · 11 months

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[11:10 PM]

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

SYNOPSIS Your father would end you before allowing you to see him, but you’d spin in your highest heels and risk everything if it meant every night could be like this.

Pairing: Seungmin x fem!reader Genre: forbidden romance, fluff, angst Warnings: implications of arranged marriage, toxic parents Word Count: 1k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

“Want to get out of here?”

Words uttered only a few minutes ago, and yet, it feels like hours have passed since you and Seungmin decided to ditch the cocktail party you were forced to attend. The conversation got tedious quickly, because all these one-percenters can talk about is horseback riding, trips to the Hamptons, and the latest family to get embroiled in a scandal.

Across the dimly lit room, Seungmin had spotted you standing against the wall, downing your third flute of champagne. He’d discreetly made his way over to you, leaning down to whisper those devilish words into your ear. At his signal, you both finally slipped out of the event room, giggling while running through the venue halls like you were children again.

“What do we do now?” You gasp breathlessly once you are outside, surrounded by the thick rose bushes at the entrance of the building.

Seungmin says nothing, just looking down at where your hand clasps his, from when you grabbed it during your grand escape. In bashful realization, you try to retract your arm, but he maintains a firm grasp, meeting your eyes. Your face heats up as you try not to melt under the gaze of the son of your father’s worst enemy.

What started as a business rivalry had blossomed into a ferocious enmity, and your father had sworn that he would end anyone who tried to fraternize with the other side, including his only daughter. But how could you stay away from Seungmin, who seemed to invade every part of your life at the top university that you both attended? How could you avoid his witty charm every time he debated with you in front of everyone in class? How could you forget those hushed moments when he cornered you in the rose gardens, eyes sparkling with trouble?

“I’ll do anything, as long as I’m by your side,” Seungmin finally answers, earnesty written all over his expression. He looks vulnerable, like a little boy scared of rejection. You’re scared too, for the time when you’re both inevitably caught, because you can’t keep going like this.

But tonight is what you currently have ahead of you. You bring Seungmin’s hand up to your lips, softly kissing it, before you grab his arm and pull him along with you. You chase each other with no destination in mind, exchanging teasing laughter like you have no worries at all.

The thin high heel of your sandal inevitably catches onto a cobblestone, nearly making you spin and fall over onto your face, but Seungmin swiftly catches your waist, pulling you back up. As always, he takes care of you without asking for anything in return. Before him, you thought that you had to earn the right to be loved. You never knew that there was a beautiful man who would give his heart to you without even thinking if you would accept it.

So even when the raindrops come pelting down, your smile doesn’t cease. You simply hitch up the heavy material of your dress in your arms, and Seungmin immediately takes off his suit jacket, holding it over your head so you don’t catch a cold.

“I’ll be fine, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully. “It’s just a light drizzle.”

“Your father will murder me if something happens to you,” Seungmin says without thinking.

You glance at him, the lighthearted mood finally fading away. “He can’t know.”

Seungmin looks over at you. “I know.”

That familiar bout of sadness rises in you for the millionth time, and you have to avert your gaze because if you stare into Seungmin’s eyes a second longer, you fear you may lose it. Whatever is going on between you both, you know it won’t last forever. When your father decides it’s time, he will most likely force you to marry the son of some rich man to secure a partnership. Your life is in the hands of your father, who would rather prioritize his business needs over your happiness. And losing Seungmin would make it unbearable.

“Sometimes, I kind of wish we never even met.” You kick a pebble as the rain begins to slow down. “Then I would never have live in a painful memory when it’s over.”

“You would never be a painful memory for me.” Seungmin shakes his head adamantly. “I know that no matter what, I will never, ever regret meeting you.”

You swallow, your eyes filling with tears. “I don’t want to think of a future without you.”

Seungmin says nothing for a moment, concentrating on the foggy road in front of you. By now, your father and his men are probably looking for you, so it’s fortunate that you both reach a small convenience store, ducking inside of it for a temporary reprieve.

“So don’t.”

“What are you saying?”

He meets your eyes once more, and you notice something in him that you’ve never seen before. Defiance. “Run away with me.”

You nearly laugh out loud in disbelief. “Yeah. And then we can go to the moon.”

Seungmin grasps your hands. “I’m serious. There’s a cargo bus that leaves the city tonight, and it belongs to Hyunjin. Your father isn’t stupid enough to mess with the mayor’s son.”

“Even so, there’s nowhere we can go where my father can’t find us.”

Seungmin’s excited smile deflates, and he sighs. “We’ll figure out a way, I promise.”

You just gaze at his crestfallen expression, before reaching your palms up to cup his cheeks. “I know we will.”

For the first time, something not unlike hope blossoms in your chest. Even the possibility of getting out of this hellhole and living somewhere alone and undisturbed with the love of your life makes you dream. Maybe you really will get to have what you truly desire more than anything.

“You know I love you, right?” Seungmin loops his arms around your waist and pulls you closer, kissing you right in the middle of the frozen food section.

“I know.”

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

TAGLIST @hamburgers101 @chansburgah @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @jetblackbelle @143hyunes

Network: @kflixnet

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

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dinogoose · 1 year

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all of this silence and patience, (pining and desperately waiting)

“What? What ‘flirting’?” Eddie raises a disbelieving eyebrow, “She was not flirting with me, she was just being nice!” Buck exclaims.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Oh Buck, you’re so strong, Oh Buck, you’re so funny, Oh Buck, how did you get your brownies to be so moist?” Eddie mocks, eyelashes fluttering, his voice exaggeratedly high.

(or, eddie gets jealous at a middle school bake sale.)

Eddie is currently in Christopher's middle school, glaring at a woman he vaguely recognizes as she places her hand on top of Buck’s bicep, laughing at something he says.

The school was hosting a PTA bake sale to raise money for various expenses, and Eddie had begged Buck not to make him go alone.

Buck agreed easily, loving any excuse to bake. He enlisted Christopher’s help so they spent an entire day making an absurd amount of baked goods.

And now all of those series of events had led him here, watching some woman flirt with Buck. The longer he stares the more he realizes he already knows this woman, she’s the mom of one of Chris’ friends, and clearly someone Buck has previously met.

That thought annoys him way more than it should.

Before he even registers what he’s doing, he’s making his way across the cafeteria, over to where Buck is. Once he reaches them, Buck acknowledges him by bumping their shoulders together but he never pauses his conversation.

Buck’s animatedly talking with her about his ‘signature’ brownie recipe. (He one-hundred percent stole the recipe off of Bobby.)

“You have to melt the butter to the correct temp, if not I’ve found that they aren’t as fluffy, you know?” The flirty soccer mom nods along, completely charmed with the human embodiment of sunshine, Evan Buckley.

“Mine always turn out so flat, I can never seem to find a good recipe but my god, yours are just delectable Buck! You have to give me your recipe!” She said, a flirtatious smirk on her lips. One that the blonde seems to completely miss.

“There are a few good ones online-“ She then turns to Eddie, a curious tilt to her head as she tries to figure out who he is. Buck cuts himself off,

“Wow, how rude of me, this is my- Eddie. Eddie Diaz. This is Eddie Diaz, Christopher’s father. Eddie, this is Cynthia, she’s Abigail’s mom.” Buck says flushing bright red and Eddie revels in it.

Eddie steps forward to shake her hand like the gentleman he is, “Yes, it’s wonderful to meet you Cynthia, I’m his partner, Eddie.”

As he finishes saying that he shoots Buck a shameless grin, feeling extremely proud of himself.

Buck frowns at him and avoids eye contact, his blush spreading deliciously up his neck.

“Oh! Well, you two certainly do make a beautiful couple.” She comments, visibly leering at both of them. Eddie just smiles at her, happy she now won’t flirt with Buck. The younger man shoots him another confused look but dives back into conversation with her.

—

As the night comes to a close, Eddie finds himself being forcefully dragged out into the parking lot by Buck.

“Hey, if you wanted to leave all you had to do was ask.” He snarks, Buck gives him a deadpan look that shuts him up.

“Everyone thinks we’re married,” Buck states. His tone is strange, almost monotone, which is making Eddie sweat a little.

“Oh. Huh. Okay… why?” He asks very eloquently, totally not choking on his spit.

Buck huffs, tugging at his beautiful curly hair.

“Why? Maybe because you told Cynthia we were partners!”

“We are partners!” Eddie exclaims.

“Yeah, at work!” Buck retorts right back, stepping into Eddie’s space. The reminder stings a little. (It burns so badly Eddie is wondering if he’s having a heart attack and idly wonders if he should pop a baby aspirin.)

He takes a step back, huffing, “Well sorry! I thought that you may have wanted saving from her relentless flirting!”

“What? What ‘flirting’?” Eddie raises a disbelieving eyebrow, “She was not flirting with me, she was just being nice!” Buck exclaims.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

“Oh Buck, you’re so strong, Oh Buck, you’re so funny, Oh Buck, how did you get your brownies to be so moist?” Eddie mocks, eyelashes fluttering, his voice exaggeratedly high.

Buck shoves him laughing, “You’re the worst, she didn’t say any of that, and she most definitely did not say moist.” Buck then appraises him for a moment, “You wanna know what I think?”

“What?” Eddie grumbles, knowing he likely does not want to know what Buck thinks.

“I think…” He draws out, “Somebody is jealous.”

Eddie can feel the tips of his ears go hot as he sputters, “I am not jealous. What would I even be jealous of?” He attempts to play off, failing miserably.

Obviously, he’s jealous that a beautiful single mom had captured Buck’s attention (He’d like to be the only single parent Buck has his eyes on, thank you very much). So yeah, he may have played up the whole partner thing. And yes he may now be continuing to be petty towards a woman who hasn’t actually done anything wrong.

Later he’ll feel guilty for all the bitchiness he’s felt towards this woman, but for now, he’s going to stare daggers at Buck in a middle school parking lot.

“Let’s go home.” Eddie mutters, eyes dropping from Buck’s face as he digs around in his pockets for his keys. He’s done with this conversation, he’s done with this bake sale, and he’s entirely done speaking about Cynthia.

“Eddie,” Buck calls, sounding much closer than before. Eddie ignores him, Buck tries again, “Eddie, Eds,” Begrudgingly he raises his head, meeting Buck’s gaze.

“I was not interested in Cynthia.” He states simply, although his stare is imploring, almost as though he’s trying to convey a deeper meaning to Eddie. One the older man isn’t grasping.

“Why not? She’s beautiful and nice and loves your brownies.” He spits out, bitterly. Buck just shakes his head, a fond look on his face as he chuckles a bit.

“I’m not interested in her because I’m interested in you.”

Eddie blinks at him owlishly, trying to comprehend that.

“You- what- me? Huh?” He nearly points at himself to emphasize the ‘me?’ point but doesn’t want to look like a complete idiot. Buck shakes his head, a fond-sounding sigh escaping his mouth.

“Eddie, you cannot be serious. Obviously, I’m in love with you, come on, you know me. Think about it.”

So he does. Eddie thinks over their entire friendship, every big moment, every tiny one. Every family outing and dinner. Each time they’d go home together.

The well, the shooting, the will, god- the lighting strike. Every major event that changed their lives, they experienced and got through them together.

Everything adds up and points to one thing.

They love each other.

“Wow.”

“Right?” Buck agrees, knowing Eddie has finally seen it. He takes another step into Eddie’s space until they’re standing so close they’re nearly chest-to-chest.

“Wow.” He repeats, feeling as though anything else he says will be inadequate. He looks up to Buck, brushing their noses together when he does.

Buck’s gorgeous blue eyes are shining in the glow of a nearby streetlamp. He’s smiling bright and wide, waiting for Eddie.

Eddie goes.

He places one hand on Buck’s shoulder to steady himself, and the other goes to hold Buck’s face. He tips him down just slightly, allowing their lips to finally meet.

Buck eagerly accepts the kiss and deepens it, a small groan escaping his throat.

They continue to kiss until Buck pushes back a little.

“God-,” he says panting, “Don’t get me wrong I’d love to keep going, but we are in a school parking lot, so not entirely ideal. And I'm pretty sure a woman is watching us from her car right now.”

Eddie tips his head back laughing, before grabbing Buck’s hand.

“Let’s go home then.”

Buck nods, “Yeah. Let’s go home.”

(jealous eddie diaz my beloved. hope you enjoyed this! thank you for all the support, and for reading. I’ll see you soon.)

#tv: 911 #buddie fic #buddie #buck x eddie #911 show #911 fox #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fic #911 fanfic #buddie 911 #jealous eddie diaz

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stardust948 · 5 months

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Frenemies AU angst

(I found this in my drafts and decided to post it. Based off this post.)

Iroh is a senior in military school or already in the military. The parents gaang is junior year in HS so around 16 and 17

Ozai still lives with Azulon but Azulon is hardly at home bc of work. When he is there or when Ozai knows he’s coming soon, he just doesn’t come back until he leaves again. Either stays with Ursa in her RV or roams around town in his car. Later stays with Hakoda and Bato when they become closer friends.

Azulon blames Ozai for Ilah’s death since she died during childbirth. He’s always been emotionally and verbally abusive to Ozai but it didn’t get physical until Iroh left for military boarding school. Ozai was 8-10ish. Mainly involved being burned or tased, which left less of physical scars.

There was a big fight between the two when Ozai announced he wanted to go to Republic Arts high school and pursue a career as a musician. Azulon wanted Ozai to follow his footsteps and go to military school like Iroh. But he backed off after Iroh vouched for his brother. Still, he refused to pay for the school but Ozai earned a scholarship and Iroh covered the rest. Ozai swore up and down he’d pay him back but Iroh just told him to give him free backstage access to his concerts and they’re even. Azulon and Ozai avoided each other after that; strangers in the same home. They physical abuse ended but the threat was still there and the mental scars lasting.

After the incident at the contest, Ursa finds Ozai sitting in his car at the school’s parking lot. She knows better to ask if he’s alright or what was wrong. Instead, she tells him to get into her car and they go back to her RV. There, they spend the rest of the night watching movies and cuddling. Ozai’s feeling somewhat better in the morning; able to speak some but not back to his usual loveable a-hole self. Though he is confused to receive a text from Hakoda of all people checking on him.

Hakoda: Hey man, you good?

Ozai: Are you seriously asking me if I’m good after burning a layer of my skin off?

Hakoda: You kinda just left after without a word.

Ozai: Because I burned a layer of my skin off.

Hakoda: Ozai, I’ve seen you explode over someone using your special pen without permission but you just shut down after burning your hand. Are you sure you’re okay?

Ozai: Who won?

Hakoda: Poppy.

Ozai: We’re going to be hearing about that for all next week.

Hakoda: She was pretty worried about you. We all were. You know, you can talk to me if you want.

Ozai: I just wanted to know who won. Now stop bothering me or I’m blocking you.

Ozai closed his phone. Just then Ursa stuck her head through the door.

“Hey, my mom made pancakes. You want any?”

Ozai shook his head.

“Alright honey. Keep an eye on my children. I’ll be right back.”

Ozai smiled some as he rolled his eyes. Ursa always referred to her hoard of plants and succulents as her children. Still exhausted, he laid back down and pulled the cover over his head. Out of curiosity, he check his phone one last time.

Hakoda: Ok. See at school.

Ozai powered down his phone. He didn’t have the energy to be annoyed. He ran a hand along the bandages before drifting back to sleep.

///

The conversation they had in the janitor’s closet came flooding back. Hakoda’s seen Ozai fly off the rail many times, but that was the first time he looked guenically hurt. Hakoda’s clumsy joke about Dads also didn’t help. Hakoda cringed at the memory.

His mind drifted to the events after. The dark play Ozai wrote about the little boy slowly dying in the burning building wishing only to see his father again. Finally meeting Ozai’s father with his cold exterior and calculating eyes that made even the brash self-confident Ozai shrink back. And to top it off, Ozai saying he’d never seen his father look happier.

Hakoda didn’t know what to think at the time. He just assumed Azulon was like his father, criticizing his every move and lamenting how he wasn’t good enough.

///

Ozai refuses to bring it up despites Ursa’s suggestions of seeking professional help, even after he and Ursa wed and had children. Not until he lost his temper with Zuko and almost burned him like Azulon. Zuko’s horrified scream snapped Ozai out of it last second. Falling back onto old habits, Ozai took shelter in his car for the night and wept bitterly. Ursa finds him and directly tells him to get help which he finally relents.

It's very slow going but beneficial in the long run. Most importantly, his children never saw that side of Ozai again.

@waterfire1848

#atla #atla au #frenemies au #high school au #atla modern au #ozai #ursa #azulon #iroh #hakoda #poppy #urzai #royal fire family #tw abuse

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katsushika-division · 29 days

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@aoyama-division Hehehehe...Sorry not sorry

The sun was high in the sky as it shone brightly upon the division of Aoyama and Karada Kessaku was in his kitchen making a protein shake for a quick workout before he had to get ready for a party his friend and leader Tomi Chōten was throwing in his honor at his manor. Karada quickly moved around in his kitchen. The only noise filling the air was the TV on the news channel.

“Seems like last night another blood ba-”

Karada turned off the TV, not at all bothered to learn what the news anchor was about to say. Probably another sob story going on somewhere in the country, but what else was new? He didn’t have time to hear it, not when he had a party thrown in his honor to attend soon. This was going to be one of the best birthdays ever! Nothing was going to ruin it!

A Few Hours Later…

The sun had long since set, and the Chōten Manor was in full swing as nearly all of the Aoyama Elite was there to celebrate the birthday of one of its members. That person was none other than Karada Kessaku, who was busy with being wished a Happy Birthday, being given gifts, and generally enjoying himself. Karada, seeing Tomi and Luis, excused himself from his current conversation and excitedly walked over to his teammates.

“Tomi! Luis!” Karada loudly exclaimed, waving at them. “Killer party, as usual, man!”

“To be expected. As if I would throw a subpar event.” Tomi bragged, preening like a peacock. Luis rolled his eyes at the statement, too, used to his leader’s haughty attitude.

“Happy Birthday, Karada.” The chef genuinely told his friend.

“Hahaha! Thanks, guys!”

“Of course,” Tomi announced, snapping his fingers and summoning a servant carrying a tray with three glasses filled to the brim with champagne on it. “This party was thrown for you, Karada. A close friend of mine” All three men grabbed the glass that was offered to them and were prepared to drink in honor of Karada’s birthday. However, just before they could toast their drinks together, a loud, sudden laugh led all three men to jump up in shock.

“HAHAHAHA!”

The entire party fell silent as the laugh echoed across the room, making it hard to pinpoint exactly where it was coming from.

“Who goes there?!” Tomi shouted angered that someone had dared to interrupt one of his parties. “Reveal yourself!”

The socialite quickly got his wish as a figure landed in a crouch in front of Jet Set Trio. Rising from their position, everyone could get a good look at them. They were female and wore a black Kevlar body suit with a black trench coat trailing behind them. A black gas mask covered the bottom half of their face, preventing anyone from learning her identity but did nothing to hide the figure’s gold eyes that shined with malicious excitement. It did not take long for everyone to recognize her as “Cinder” the psychotic criminal currently at the top of Chuohku’s most wanted list.

“What a warm welcome,” Cinder mocked, her voice sounding robotic due to a voice modulator in her mask. “I should expect nothing else from the so-called “elite” of Aoyama.”

“How did you manage to sneak past security?” Tomi demanded from the known criminal.

“You call that security?” Cinder laughed. “They were pathetic! All it took was a couple hundred volts of electricity, and they were out. So much for the Chōten family hiring only the best of the best.”

“What do you want?” Luis cautiously questioned, knowing full well what Cinder was capable of doing.

“Me? Nothing, really.” Cinder drawled out with no one believing her words. “But…..” The pyromaniac criminal pointed at Karada, causing him to jump a bit. “Someone wants to send you a gift, Karada Kessaku, and I’m more than willing to deliver~!”

“W-w-what?” Karada sputtered, racking his head, trying to figure out who he had pissed off enough to send this psycho after him. Cinder just continued to stare at Karada, and if anyone could remove her mask, they would only find a deranged smile waiting for them.

“If you think we’ll let you just harm Karada-” Luis growled, bringing himself to his full height in an attempt to intimidate the criminal.

“Oh please, if I wanted to harm the idiot I would have placed a bomb inside the manor and just detonated it.” Cinder rolled her eyes, not at all scared by Luis' silly little display. “No someone asked for something with a bit more horror. Now I do believe it’s gift time!”

“No, you dont!” Tomi shouted, pulling out his mic from inside his suit jacket. The rest of his team followed suit and pulled out their mics.

“How cute but too late! The show is about to start!” Cinder giggled. Then, before anyone could move an inch, Cinder snapped her fingers, and that’s when all hell broke loose.

*Bang*

Karada jumped at the loud noise, afraid the criminal had set off a bomb. What happened next had almost made the bodybuilder wish she had set off one. To the horror of all the guests in the room, a waterfall of red liquid fell upon Karada and the rest of JST. Immediately, a metallic scent hit everyone, letting them all know what exactly they had been completely drenched in from head to toe.

“Hahaha! This was so worth the trouble of robbing all those blood banks!”

JST froze at her words, taking a minute to process what she had said, their faces twisting into a mix of disgust and horror, but before they could react further, Cinder once again snapped her fingers.

*Bang*

Once again, a loud noise was heard, and sure enough, another waterfall of liquid fell on Aoyama’s team. This time, much to everyone’s horror, something black and goo-like fell from the ceiling, landing all over and around JST. The smell emanating from it was unbearable, smelling like decaying flesh. Cinder didn’t even flinch when she heard someone screaming from behind her too amused with the sight of JST gagging and nearly vomiting as the black goo entered their mouths to care.

“Oh, am I glad I agreed to do this!” Cinder maniacally laughed. Turning on her heels, Cinder took in the sight of the audience, and to her glee, all of them were frozen in horrified shock at what had just happened. Not a person bothered to move as the criminal walked past the crowd parting like Moses and the Red Sea as no one wanted to be the deranged criminal’s next victim. Stopping in front of a window where Cinder mockingly bowed to them. “Bitches and Bastards of Aoyama I do hope you enjoyed this little show put on by the illustrious Cinder! Save your applause, please. It should go to the mastermind behind this glorious show, not me. Now that my work here is done I must bid you all adieu. Before I go one last thing…”

Then for the third time in a row, Cinder again snapped her fingers and the audience held their breath wondering what would fall next. The next few seconds were agony as everyone kept their eyes on JST, not even bothering to turn around when they heard the window being smashed as Cinder escaped out of it. The sound of her mad laughter grew fainter and fainter as she disappeared into the night.

Finally after what seemed like an eternity instead of something disgustingly horrifying falling on JST again this time a banner fell from the ceiling with a message on it. It was short and to the point having been scrawled in a dark red, leaving many morbidly to wonder if it was written in blood.

“FUCK YOU DEAD MEAT”

Several Days Ago…

“So why do you want to mess with that muscle-headed idiot, Touya-nii?”

“He made the grave mistake of insulting my darling Kai-chan recently on PROFILE. So it’s only fair that I get a little bit of revenge.”

“Uh huh… and would this not be considered a violation of your parole? Not that I give a damn if you kill the brain-dead bastard but if you get caught, aren't you afraid this will send you back to prison?”

“As much as I would love to RiP oUt HiS hEaRt and give it to Kai-chan as a gift you’re right about that it would send me back to prison but that’s only if I physically harm someone there's nothing that says I can’t psychologically harm them.”

“Ooooh, that's devious and surprisingly smart of you,” Akari smirked.

“I spent a good chunk of my life on the streets Kari-chan. I didn’t survive by being a complete idiot.” Touya shrugged his shoulders. “Besides, I wanna see the smile on Kai-chan’s face when I show him the aftermath.” The blue-haired male swooned, already imagining the look on Kaiji’s face.

“There it is. So you’re using this as a reason to impress Kaiji while at the same time knocking down one of those rich Aoyama bastards down a peg…Alright, I’m in. What are you thinking about?”

“Have you ever seen the movie “Carrie” Kari-chan~?”

“Oh, Oh, I like where this is heading…Tell me more, Touya-nii.”

Now In Katsushika…

Touya hummed as he sat on the vanity in his bedroom, getting ready to go down to Kobe to spend time with Kaiji. He had gotten special approval from his parole officer to spend the night as a reward for “good behavior”. How hilarious. However, Touya wasn't going to let go of this chance to spend the night at Kaiji’s.

A huge smile spread across Touya’s face he saw his phone blow up with all sorts of notifications from PROFILE. Then, much to Touya’s delight, his phone lit up with Akari’s caller ID, and he quickly answered it, placing the phone up to his ear.

“Kari-chan~!”

“You should’ve seen his fucking face Touya-nii! Hahaha! Oh, it was priceless! I even managed to get the rest of those Jet Set Bastards too!”

“Thanks, Kari-chan! I owe you a favor big time! I know it was probably a headache to break in and set up everything.”

“Don’t worry about it. I managed to snatch a couple of expensive items from the Chōten Manor plus seeing them like that is more than payment enough. Anyway, I’m sending you the video so you can surprise Kaiji with it.”

“I can’t wait to show him! He’s going to love it~!” Touya laughed, kicking his legs together in glee. “Alright, I need to finish getting ready Kari-chan. So I'll see you later!”

“See ya Touya-nii. Have fun.”

“Oh, I will Kari-chan. Bye-bye~!”

Hanging up the call Touya was not surprised when just a few seconds later a message from Akari popped up on his screen. Seeing the video the deranged boy hit play and watched the shitshow that had just happened. As he watched the video Touya couldn’t help the laughter that slipped out of his mouth. It grew more and more unhinged the longer he viewed it until Touya was nearly shrieking with laughter.

“HAHAHAHA! HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU BASTARD!”

Happy Birthday Karada! 😈

#hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic oc #katsushika division #death row block #touya kisaragi #akari himura #aoyama division #jet set trio #karada kessaku #tomi chōten #luis kōkyū #happy birthday karada 2024 #“gift”#get rekt karada

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goatpaste · 1 year

Note

🖊!

gonna be just randomly generating a character from my toyhouse to talk about for these ask :)

and the first one is my girly Davey!

I dont talk about Davey a ton, I do like her but I havent really taken the time to flesh out her roll in my lil oc fan part set up.

Davey was Hired by Roxanne, however unlike a lot of her other hires, Davey come to Roxanne to ask for a job. Roxanne is some dirty ex-sailr/treasure hunter who struck out rich and for the most part has been wandering around looking for the next exciting thing in her life. This came when she was invited to come watch a 'performance' at the Crowded House, owned by Roxanne. Its mostly top secret what goes on in there, beyond everyone knows that if you have the money and are someone you will have come around to the Crowded House for what can only be expected to be some sorta expensive club house.

Which in someways this isnt too far from the truth. Inside this cold plain rinky dink building with only two signs labeling it the Crowded House, is a luxurious high end parlor filled with every hoity toity in town. Their drinkings, conversing and all the good stuff waiting for the main show, which comes in the form of a short but straight forward contract to keep information on what goes on inside the walls of the Crowded House a secret, and a 'boop' on the nose from the scrawny lanky blue haired man working the booth at the entrance.

From here everyone is invited to view the underground fights performed by Roxanne's 'employees'. Fights with large beautiful people who beat the shit out of each other their nearly dead. A very specific interest being met here. People place bets, and deals and sponsorships between Roxie and her clients as they enjoy the show. The cherry on top, its all stand user fights, which most people invited in will have never heard of before coming here, and will never speak of outside the walls of this place.

Everyone goes home after getting their fill of the festivities

Except Davey

Davey stays behind to make her own lil deal with Roxie, fine and good to the boss in the bright pink stilettos, shes always looks for new ways to bring in money.

However Davey offered her something different, a new employee in the form of Davey herself.

Watching Roxanne's himbo, bimbos and whatever else she has in her, Davey wants IN. This was her new passion, this was the spark that was going to bring her back to life. She wanted a super power ghost that helps her beat the crap out of people for money in front of cheering crowds.

And well, Davey just happened to be Roxanne's type and they needed a new hire to even out their roster.

Davey has been with Roxanne for a year to the start of the events of my lil fan parts. She's hot headed and not the best person, she thinks mostly of herself and tends to go over board even for the environment of their type of work. She and Mac are best frienemies and LOVE to fight each other, their a crowd favorite to watch fights.

Her stand is Boomtown Rats, a stand with explosive abilities and is an all around little rascal of a stand who tends to wander off in casual situations just to bother other stands and stand users.

#jojo #jjba #jojo ocs #my ocs #nuclear heat #davey #boomtown rats #radio star

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221bshrlocked · 3 years

Text

sweaty hands, reluctant hearts

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Fem!Reader

Words: 13685 (god this wasn’t supposed to be this long I’m actually sorry this time)

Warnings: Angst and Smut (my fav). Hurt/Jealous Mando -> Touch Starved/Rough Mando -> Fluffy Mando -> Shy Mando. Penetrative Sex. Oral Sex. There’s lot’s of sweat because exertion yall. Breeding Kink 😏. Slight Exhibitionism. Overstimulation and slight slight non-con because of oversensitivity. Umm, squirting 🙃. Dirty/Sweet talk. Spanking (ass and hoohaa).

Summary: He never thought the day would come when he’d hear you saying you wanted to leave him. Yes there was an understanding between the two of you that you were hired to help him care for the Child and to somehow keep the Razor Crest alive and working. And he knew it made sense for you to find work elsewhere now that the Razor Crest was destroyed and the Child was with his own kind. But he just assumed you weren’t going to leave considering it’s been a couple of months since he’d given the kid to the Jedi and you never brought it up. It hurt hearing you say those words, especially when he realized he wasn’t meant to hear them and that you were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people. Turns out, all Mando needed was to see the Marshal eye-fucking you as you fixed the new ship and overshared your thoughts for him to snap and finally make a move. Hopefully he can change your mind...

A/N: Yall, this is post Season 2 so sadly Grogu is not here, hence the angst! Umm, this was a lot to handle because you know, that gif here. Enjoy ☺️

It’s been months since the events that transpired on the cruiser. Months since he’d given away a piece of himself to an unknown being. Months since he’d sat down and re-evaluated his life’s mission. He wasn’t sure why he’d chosen to return to Tatooine of all planets but he needed some time to think of his next steps. So much has changed over the course of the past year and it took the Mandalorian longer than usual to realize that he can’t use bounty hunting to fill the void in his heart.

One thing he did know for sure, however, was that he couldn’t have managed to survive the emotional and physical changes without your presence. Somehow, you’ve managed to make his life easier and by a whole lot. He has never felt this grateful for having a companion, maker, didn’t even think it possible to ever consider another as such. He’d spent years and years living by the Creed and never once doubting his way of living, but he found himself questioning everything about himself when you came in. It wasn’t that he was suddenly open to the idea of taking his helmet off or anything, it was more of a passing thought on what it would be like if he were to open up to you more, perhaps even share with you more than his name and an abridged version of how he became a Mandalorian.

He mulled over how he would approach the topic with you, finding himself growing more nervous when he considered how you’d react. You’ve never given him any inclination of ever thinking of him as more than your boss and he knew he needed to figure out a way to make this seem natural and not forced. Frankly, he found it interesting how you managed to read him better than anyone he’s ever met, and he wished he could ask you how you’d done so when he never took off his helmet.

Mando pushed the thought aside for now, cursing to himself as he dragged the giant piece of scrap you’d requested for him to pick up from Peli. He wanted to argue with you then, tell you that the only reason for coming to this awfully hot planet was to take some time off, if that was even possible, and avoid falling into the temptation of another mission. But he couldn’t find it in himself to say any of these things, mostly because you were the one that managed to procure the new ship for him and you were also the one that told him the two of you were in serious need of rest. He’d only realized the ship needed fixing when he landed and you told him you would get right on as soon as he picked up the necessary pieces from Peli. He felt a little out of the loop when he’d gone to her and found her giving him everything you’d requested for, and he knew you must have contacted her before you landed or else she wouldn’t have been this quick.

As he made his way through the quiet “streets” of Mos Pelgo, he thought back to what Peli said to him an hour ago. Had he not considered her as a friend, he would have responded rudely when she bugged him about you. As much as he wished to humor the idea that you looked at him as more than a colleague, partner, whatever it was the two of you were, he didn’t want to grow any more false hope, especially now that he’d already given up the one thing that managed to crawl into his heart.

Mando saw that you’d moved the ship behind the cantina and he chose to blame the heat for the way his skin crawled with goosebumps because no, he didn’t suddenly feel calm at the thought of you.

He shook his head from the intruding thought and was about to say something to you when he saw who was standing nearby. If there was ever a time where he didn’t wish to see Cobb Vanth, it was definitely now. The bounty hunter put down the scraps of metal before moving closer to where the two of you were standing. He was sheltered behind a shack of sorts and allowed his heart rate to return to normal before listening in on you.

“I don’t believe you sweetheart.” The Marshal threw back his drink and shook his head when you shrugged your shoulders at him and Mando felt his stomach twist at the endearment. Since when were the two of you on such a close basis?

“Believe whatever you want Marshal, I was only answering your question. Besides, it’s not like I’m actively looking right now.” Mando watched as you swiped the sweat rolling down your face with the back of your hand and swore when he felt the fabric of his pants grow tighter around his crotch. He felt dirty watching your every move, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of the way your muscles gleamed under the excruciating sun rays. He cursed the day you bought that garment and he recalled back to the first time he watched you work in it. Mando had almost tripped over the child that day because he never expected to see you walking around with the chest binding so visible to his eyes. It was worse when you reached up high for something because if his eyes lingered long enough, he could see your undergarment peeking from the low-hanging pants of the overalls.

The bounty hunter had to take a few deep breaths to move on from the inappropriate thoughts he was having and he narrowed his eyes at Cobb when he saw him walk closer to you.

“Are you ever going to tell him?” The Mandalorian watched as your expression shifted slowly to a more sombre look and he was familiar enough with you to know that you weren’t too happy with that question or the answer you were going to give Cobb.

“I- I don’t know. I wish I could tell him about how I fe- what I’m thinking about but I can’t...and I also can’t just say ‘Hey Mando, I had a blast taking care of the kid and getting hunted by the kriffing Empire. I fixed the ship for you so see you later.’ It’s not right and I didn’t realize it would be this difficult to come to terms with what I have to do. But I can’t keep doing this, it’s not fair.”

Whatever the Mandalorian thought you were going to say, that certainly didn’t make the top of the list. He almost fell back when he registered the meaning behind your words. You wanted to leave. You’ve been wanting to move on for a while and you weren’t sure how to tell him. You were confiding in Cobb Vanth of all people and relying on his opinion to decide what you were going to do. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind and he tried to see if he’d done anything wrong. Besides the whole thing with Gideon and Bo Katana, there wasn’t really anything he’d done that would inspire such a reaction from you. Not that those weren’t enough to change your mind about staying with him but it was all in the past now.

The sound of laughter broke Mando out of his haze and he turned towards you again, watching as you slithered down the ship, clenching his fists tightly when he saw Cobb grab your hips to help you down. He was torn between strutting towards the two of you and punching the daylights out of him and remaining where he was to listen in on your conversation. He had no right to do either, but he needed to know.

“I hate to ask you this question because it defeats the whole purpose of this entire chat but...have you thought of how he’d take it? Should you decide on-” You pointed to something on the floor and Cobb leaned down to grab it for you, handing it and gauging your reaction to his question as you continued to work.

“Why else do you think I’ve been putting this off? Of course I’ve thought of how he’d react. But I deserve more than...ugh, I don’t mind this, I swear I don’t, but I also can’t just sit back and pretend I don’t want more.” You motioned violently to the ship and to what you were doing as you spoke, shaking your head at the man smiling smugly in front of you before throwing out the tools and snatching his drink from him.

Mando couldn’t stand to be near you, not after what he’d heard and certainly not after taking in your body language and the way Cobb was practically undressing you without shame. He stepped back, leaving the scraps where they were and heading to the cantina to take his mind off of what he’d just witnessed. He walked in and paid no mind to the patrons scattered across the room, handing the man behind the counter more credits than he cared to count and asking him for his strongest stuff. He didn’t bother to address the judgmental stare he was receiving and took hold of the bottle before walking out again.

It was close to sunset and the Mandalorian walked until the edge of the town before deciding to continue until he reached a small hill filled with large boulders. Sliding down one of the rocks, he sighed deeply before taking off his helmet, the hissing sound instilling a sense of guilt deep in his chest. He was ashamed at feeling such an emotion towards what he based his entire life on. But he couldn’t take it anymore. His anger rose as he opened the large bottle in his hand, throwing it back until he felt the stinging drink burn his throat for a few seconds before aggressively setting it on the floor next to him.

Mando wasn’t able to put what he was feeling into a proper string of thoughts but he did know it was an odd mixture of hurt and anger with a tiny bit of sexual frustration. He couldn’t get the image of you sweaty and heaving as you worked on his ship out of his mind, shutting his eyes and throwing his head back to meditate back on the way your muscles clenched and pulled every time you molded two metal scraps together or how they positively shined when you carried things across the sand. He’d tried his hardest to set all of these feelings and rather inappropriate thoughts aside but he couldn’t any longer. Not when there was a chance of you leaving him, and perhaps to someone like the Marshal too.

Perhaps it was unwise to deny his heart’s desires for so long and Mando was sure that he’d met his breaking point because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Normally, he was able to distract himself and force his mind to stray away from conjuring up the filthiest images of you wreathing and crying beneath him as he drove his cock into your heat. But he had no hold over his mind at this moment, not that he was to blame. He went from shutting his own self out to opening the floodgates, and there was no going back.

He sighed heavily when his thoughts shifted to what you said about him and he took a long sip from the bottle before turning his attention to the setting suns. He didn’t know what he could even say if you ever approached the topic with him. You’d been wanting to leave for a while now and somehow managed to hide it from him. All those nights spent running from Moff Gideon and other bounty hunters and you haven’t complained once, choosing to keep it to yourself. He wasn’t sure if he was hurt because you felt the need to hide something like this from him or because you were awfully understanding of how these complaints could distract him.

And then there was the whole thing with the ship. He had assumed that the two of you sort of shared it now but it seemed that you never saw it as belonging to you but only to him. And you went out of your way to fix it now when you didn’t have to. Mando didn’t notice his tears until he licked his drying lips and tasted the saltiness across his mouth. He wiped his cheeks and laughed at himself. When had he become like this? First it was the child and now you.

He wished he could take it all back, to have never met the kid or you. His life was simple and not complicated and now, now he was faced with the prospect of losing you as well. The bounty hunter dismissed the thought as quickly as it came because he knew deep down that it was better to have had the two of you in his life, even for a short while, than to have never known you. It wasn’t ideal but since when was his life ideal?

As the suns set beneath the sky, the Mandalorian looked down and saw that the bottle was still almost full. Not wanting to finish it now, because he might actually need it later when you decide to leave, Mando stood up and slowly made his way back into town. He needed to sleep, not to rest but to put a pause on his rather depressing thoughts if only for a little bit. When he saw the town come into view, he took a deep breath and put his helmet back on.

The town was quieter than usual and the Mandalorian found himself going straight to the ship instead of joining the others. He’d spent the past few days enjoying his nights in the corner of the busy cantina, watching as you won one Sabacc game after another without breaking a sweat while everyone groaned in annoyance at how well you were kicking their asses. But he couldn’t trust himself tonight, not around you and certainly not around the Marshal.

Trying not to bring too much attention to himself, Mando walked past the cantina towards the ship, already thinking of how relieved he’d be once he used the refresher. Going up the ramp, he was about to walk to the small, private room near the cockpit to grab a change of clothes when he heard a loud shriek that sounded a lot like his name coming from the opposite end of the ship. Mando quickly turned around and shut his eyes in exasperation when he saw you approaching him far angrier than he’d ever seen you. He set the bottle down and turned his attention towards you, raising an eyebrow to himself when he saw your chest heaving beneath the chest band. He averted his eyes quickly, refusing to think of you sweaty and breathless under other circumstances. Maker, he couldn’t go no like this.

“Where in the kriffing hell have you been? You were supposed to bring the parts from Peli hours ago and I have to find out from some kid that you just left them on the ground and walked away to- hell, I don’t even know what was more important for you than bringing me the scraps so I could fix the ship? Really, Mando, I understand that it’s been a little weird and difficult lately but I barely ask for anything and, ugh, maker.” You held back from voicing more of your thoughts, afraid that you’ve already gone far with asking him where he was. He didn’t really need to tell you what his business was but you’d assumed the two of you have come to an understanding regarding such matters, at the very least to ensure everyone’s safety.

Mando stood there in silence and took a deep breath before turning around and walking into his room, afraid he’d give himself away if he tried to respond to you.

You furrowed your eyebrows in frustration when he quietly walked away from you, anger rising in your chest as he came out and made his way past you to the refresher. Before you could think twice of what you were doing, you were sprinting past him and standing in front of the open door, pushing your fingers into his beskar-clad chest as you hissed at him.

“I’m not sure what happened or why you’re giving me the silent treatment right now but this is not how we deal with our problems okay.” Mando took a few steps back as you continued to shove your finger into him, trying his hardest to not grab your wrist and push you against the nearest wall. “We talk things out and we come up with a way to fix things and compromise if need be.” Mando’s back hit the wall, and he threw his head back to avoid your gaze, unable to hold back the chuckle that rose from beneath the helmet at your words.

How ironic.

“Did I say something funny?” You narrowed your eyes up at him and wished for once that he’d remove that god damn helmet so you could gauge his reaction.

“You mean we should talk things out like you and Cobb Vanth today? Or would it be different?” Mando’s chest tightened when he noticed the surprised expression on your face, knowing very well this was not what you expected to hear from him. He was a rational man, never once letting his mind give away to such simplistic thoughts but you’d struck a nerve and he could no longer hide his jealousy. Yes, it was jealousy. As much as he hated to admit it, that’s what he was feeling right now, what he’s been feeling all day long. It was childish and unlike him but it wasn’t going to do him any good if he continued to ignore it.

“I’m dying to know if that’s what you mean. You obviously don’t have an issue telling him about how difficult it’s been working with me and how you can’t keep doing this.” It was your turn to take a few steps back when you saw his shoulders push out and make him taller than he already was. He continued to walk towards you, throwing his clothes to the ground and almost apologizing when you tripped on your feet when he was only a foot away from you.

“How about this, let’s start with what you apparently wish you could tell me but can’t seem to find the right words to do so. What was it you said to him? You deserve more than taking care of a kid and constantly escaping the Empire and other bounty hunters? Or wait, how can I forget...it’s not fair dealing with this mess of a ship and you’re looking for somewhere else to go?” You swallowed the lump in your throat as the Mandalorian repeated back the words you voiced perhaps a little too loudly earlier today, already feeling your eyes fill with unshed tears at harsh his tone.

“I- I didn’t…you weren’t meant to-” You tripped over your words and almost flinched when he cut you off.

“What? I wasn’t supposed to hear you say any of those things? A little strange don’t you think, since you seemed to have a lot to say about me to the Marshal.” Mando should have stopped himself from saying the next few words but his heart was torn into a million pieces and it wasn’t fair for him either.

“Well guess what, sweetheart, the Razor Crest blew up. Moff Gideon is taken care of and the Empire isn’t after us anymore. Every bounty hunter knows better than to so much as look at me and...and the kid isn’t around anymore for you to take care of. He’s gone, I lost him. So if you were worried about hurting me, you’re a little too late for that.” The Mandalorian barely held himself back from pulling you into his arms when he saw tears rolling down your cheek, clenching his fists tightly when he noticed the way you hugged yourself and frowned at him.

“Din-” It broke him to hear you use his name, especially now of all times. He hasn’t heard you say it once in the past few months, even when the two of you were alone. It was the twisting of the knife, and he bit his tongue to distract himself from saying something he couldn’t possibly take back.

“Do what you want, I won’t stand in the way. Besides, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to help you out with whatever it was you were telling him today. After all, you deserve more right? Deserve someone more than me...someone who’s willing to share a lot more than his name.” Not bothering to wait for a response, Mando stepped away and walked back to his room, not caring about the clothes on the ground or how hurt you must have been feeling from listening to him.

He softly shut the door behind him and moved to his bed, throwing himself on it and hanging his head low to catch his breath. This was not how he saw the night going, not remotely. He was hoping to ask you about this tomorrow in a less hostile manner and without making it seem like he was blaming you. But something about your words struck a nerve in him and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, not when you were suggesting things you yourself weren’t willing to follow.

Din wasn’t sure how long he sat there in silence but the hissing sound of the door opening brought him back from his haze and he opened his eyes when he heard you walking towards him. You’d never once come into his room, not even when he occasionally gave you permission. You sniffed twice before approaching the bed and standing right in front of him and he was reminded of when the child would cry to try to catch his attention.

“Din, it was never my intention to hurt you. I was trying to do the opposite..thought I was doing the right thing by thinking about this before I could talk to you but I’m realizing now that I’ve hurt you.” Din noticed the way you were ringing your fingers nervously and held himself back from taking your hands into his to try and put you at ease.

“I- I only spoke with Cobb because he- because he noticed the way I was looking at you. He noticed how I can never seem to focus on anything or anyone else when you’re around. He- he could tell I was having a hard time coming to terms with how I feel about you...how I’ve felt about you for a while now.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your confessions, unable to properly register what you were implying because he could never even humor the idea that you’d have feelings for him. He raised his head and finally looked at you, frowning when he saw how red your eyes were from crying.

“The last thing I want to do is to leave you, please believe me. But I wasn’t sure if you even wanted me around after...after everything with Moff Gideon and the Jedi. As far as I knew, you brought me on to take care of Grogu and fix the Razor Crest. We’ve barely spoken ever since the cruiser and I just thought that I was only around because you couldn’t find the time to tell me that you don’t need me anymore.” Hearing you say that you thought he didn’t need you caught Din off guard and he wasn’t able to hold back anymore, instantly taking hold of your hands and pulling you towards him until you were standing in between his legs. You swallowed the lump in your throat and maintained your gaze on his visor, hoping that he could see how truthful you were being with him and maybe respond, if only with just a simple word.

“When I said I deserved more, I was just- I swear I wasn’t talking about your Creed or wanting to see you. As much as I wish that was possible, I would never...could never ask you for something like that. I was only telling him that I might need some time away to maybe forget how...maker, to perhaps try and set aside my emotions because the last thing you need right now is for me to lay that on you. I don’t want you to think that you owe me anything because you don’t, gods you don’t owe anyone anything, not after what you’ve been through. But I could feel myself becoming more attached to you, especially after everything that happened on the cruiser. I want more with you but I don’t want to push you towards anything you’re not ready for.” Before you could wipe the tears away from your cheeks, Din was raising his glove-covered fingers and softly skimming them over your skin, and he hadn’t realized how harsh and loud his breathing was until he felt you rest your hand on his chest.

“There’s nothing between me and Cobb. And you should know by now that he’s...friendly, with everyone.” You smiled shyly at him before leaning into the hand resting on your cheek, nuzzling further into his palm when he swiped his thumb against your lower lip. There was so much Din wanted to say but he couldn’t find the right words that would convey what he was feeling. He was having a hard time wrapping his mind about your admission and the fact that you have been returning his affection for a while now.

Din didn’t realize how long he was quiet until you cleared your throat and let go of his hand, stepping away from him and looking around to see if you should just leave. Before you could head to the door, however, Din was standing up and moving towards you, his eyes searching your face for any signs of discomfort before he made his next move. Your chest was rising and falling a little quicker than he liked but he quickly realized it was probably because of how you were coming to terms with what you just said to him.

You watched as he took his gloves off and set them on the small table behind you, suppressing a gasp when you felt his warm, calloused hands wrap around yours before bringing them to his helmet. He could tell you were letting him control all of your movements and found it difficult to accept just how much you were willing to give to him.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I have been thinking about this for a while.” Din smiled when he saw your eyebrows furrow in question at his words. “Taking this off.” He saw the moment you understood what he was saying, not expecting you to pull your hands away from him and taking a few steps back until your back was against the wall.

“That’s...that’s not what I- Din, I wasn’t lying when I said it wouldn’t matter to me if-” He smiled at how defensive you suddenly were and stepped towards you once more, and you found it annoying that he barely kept a foot between you two, his natural scent hitting you like a blaster to the gut.

“I know.” Din cut you off before taking your hands into his once more, rubbing your knuckles to put you at ease as he continued. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and- it’s not that I’ll walk around without it now, far from it. It’ll only be when we’re alone, when no one is around.” He hoped you could read in between the lines because this would be the closest he’d come to admitting how important you were to him, for now at least.

“Besides, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

That definitely snapped you out of your haze and you tilted your head to the side before asking home what he was referring to.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” Din raised an eyebrow at your response. Have you already forgotten?

“On the cruiser, when I- before Grogu went with the Jedi.” His hands tightened around your fingers as he said the child’s name and you were momentarily distracted before realizing what he meant.

“Din I...I never saw you.”

For a split second, it felt like someone had taken Din and carbon froze him before throwing him on an ice planet.

“What?” He held his breath, unable to move a muscle until he made sure he heard you correctly.

“I never saw you. I turned around when you reached for your helmet. I didn’t...it was a moment with you and Grogu. It didn’t feel right to look at you.” You tried to maintain a semblance of control on your voice but it cracked a few times as you admitted to him. As much as you yearned to see him without the mask, you didn’t think it proper without his clear consent.

Din’s sudden intake of breath made you nervous and you hated how for a moment, you wished you didn’t tell him because there was now a high probability that he wouldn’t take the mask off.

“Cyar'ika, please.” you shivered at the low tone of his voice, finding it harder to focus on anything but the touch of his skin. Once again, Din slowly brought your hands to the sides of his visor, pushing the palm of your hands on the beskar and softly nodding at you. A sudden sense of relief washed over him when he saw the slight nod of your head.

Din found it endearing how your whole face scrunched up in focus as the two of you slowly pulled the helmet off of his head, the soft hissing sound as it unlocked making your hands dampen with sweat. As you raised the visor along with him, you couldn’t help but shut your eyes as soon as you saw the skin of his chin. Unbeknownst to you, Din was watching your every reaction and felt a little nudge in his chest when he saw how tightly shut your eyes were. When the beskar was off completely, Din took it from your hands and placed it next to him, swallowing the lump in his throat when he turned back and saw you were still refusing to look at him.

He reluctantly took your hands into his and placed them on his chest, hoping that you’d finally open your eyes without him begging you again.

“I’m sorry I- maker, this is..this is probably more intense for you than it is for me and I’m not making it any better with my nervousness and- okay. Okay.” You took a deep breath before allowing your eyes to flutter open, unable to exhale as soon as you laid your gaze on him. Din was probably unaware of how nervous he looked and it took you a few longer seconds to realize you needed to breathe again. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, the long nights where you imagined what he could look like fading into thin air because nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared you for what you were currency seeing.

His features were somehow soft but a little rugged, and you found yourself committing every inch of his skin to memory, filling your mind’s eye with every minute facial expression so you could dream of him when you fall asleep. It was oddly not surprising at all that he had a stubble, the scattered dark and slightly graying hairs across his jaw and above his lips making him seem older than he probably was. And you weren’t sure if he knew he was furrowing his eyebrows and then you realized he most likely didn’t because he was so used to wearing his helmet that he never had to learn how to control his facial expressions around anyone. And it was endearing how his nose flared as he continued to breathe heavily under your gaze, and if it weren’t for the fact that this was a serious moment, you would have leaned over and kissed the curved bridge of his nose and the scrunch of his eyebrows to put him at ease.

Din wasn’t sure what he thought your reaction would be and he felt his chest tighten with every long moment you spent without so much as a comment.

You were unaware of how long this dreadful moment must have been for the Mandalorian and you continued to study him in hopes of finding answers to questions you’ve wished you could ask him ever since he hired you. There were heavy bags under his eyes and you wished you were more persistent with him when it came to his resting schedule but he always seemed to wave you off whenever you told him he needed to sleep. Though you knew this stress had to do more with Grogu no longer being here and less with how often he slept. You had half expected to find his gaze harsh and far off but when you did finally meet his eyes, you found them filled with unshed tears and a multitude of emotions that you knew would go unexplained until he had the strength to voice them. They were a deep and beautiful shade of brown, ones you knew you’d never be able to turn away from now that you’ve had a proper look at him. And you couldn’t help but notice how their color reminded you of a Nightbloomer just after you picked it from its roots.

All of that, however, could not compare to when you finally let your eyes descend to his lips. They were a darker shade of pink, and you swore you saw them parting as soon as you looked at them. His lower lip was trembling and you wished more than anything to swipe your thumb against it if only to feel the soft skin melt at your touch. You wished that was as far as your mind had gone but the longer you looked at the curve of his mouth, the more you wished you could lean forward and mold your lips with his. It was even worse because you had a feeling that the stubble of his mustache would cause the softest of burns on your lips.

Din could no longer take the loud silence enveloping the room and he swallowed nervously when he saw how focused you seemed to be on his lips. He had some idea of what you were probably thinking because he was thinking the exact same thing but he wasn’t sure if he should be the one to make the first move. This reluctance evaporated when he noticed the way your eyes instantly moved to his neck as the cartilage moved and returned to rest when he gulped, and he realized that you may have been having slightly more inappropriate thoughts than he originally thought.

He was about to voice his worries when he saw your hands move from his beskar-clad chest to his face and he couldn’t stop himself from looking down apprehensively at the digits moving closer to his skin. You misunderstood his nervousness for uncomfort and immediately ceased all movements, returning your focus on his eyes to look for any inclination as to what he wanted.

“Can I- mhmm, may I touch you?” Your whispered question was too loud for the two of you and Din parted his lips to say something but noticed how dry his throat was and realized he couldn’t trust his own voice. Nodding slightly at your request, he waited with bated breath as your fingers rose to his face and found himself shaking with anticipation at the prospect of finally feeling your touch on the most intimate part of him.

When you were only a few inches away from him, Din felt his heart thumping wildly at his chest and he immediately shut his eyes when he felt the feather-light touch of your fingers on his cheeks. The harsh yet shaky intake of breath almost made you lose control and you had to remind yourself that, besides Grogu, you were the only one to ever touch him so intimately and so softly since he was a child. As much as you wished to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer so you could lay as many kisses on his face as you could, you knew it would be too much for him and that he needed you to go slow with him. He was practically shattering under your attention and you hoped he would allow you to do this as many times as possible in the coming days.

Din couldn’t put a name to what he was experiencing at the moment but he knew he didn’t want you to stop touching him, ever again. He decided that he’d spend every moment with you alone without his helmet and with yours hands skimming some part of him. The longer you kept your palms on his cheeks, the calmer his heart beat and it wasn’t until a few moments later that he realized his eyes were shut. As they slowly fluttered open, he was met with the most beautiful sight in the world: your own deep irises staring at your own thumb as it softly passed over his quivering lips.

“You’re...beautiful.”

It was a simple truth and you wished there was a more sincere word you could use to describe what he was to you, what he meant to you but your mind was overflowing with images of waking up next to him every day and kissing his eyes and cheeks and nose and lips and anywhere else you could reach.

Din’s hold tightened around your waist and you watched as he leaned forward until there was barely an inch between the two of you.

“Mesh'la, I would really like to kiss you.” The request barely passed his lips yet you were already standing up on your tiptoes and pressing your lips to his, finding them as soft and gentle as you imagined them to be. Din was afraid his heart would give out any moment now because nothing could have prepared him for the taste of you, let alone the boldness with which you were claiming him. He sighed into you, unintentionally parting his lips and pushing you harder into the wall when he felt your tongue sneak into his mouth and explore him. Din wasn’t sure what he should be doing but then you were moving your hands to the nape of his neck and tangling your fingers into his hair and he all but lost it. As you gently tugged on his hair, Din found himself mirroring your actions and before he knew it, the kiss was no longer innocent and sweet but hungry and needy. You sucked on his tongue and tilted your head to the side, wanting to commit every small detail to memory so when you shut your eyes at night, you’d kiss him in your dreams.

Reluctantly, you pulled back for a second to allow the two of you to breathe but Din didn’t like that, chasing your mouth and molding his lips with yours once more to be certain that yes, this was happening, and that no, this was not a dream. You moaned into the kiss, finding his desperate need to claim your mouth again more of a turn on than you cared to admit. And then his hands were slipping inside your overalls and holding you against his chest, the warmth of him stretching down to where you wished you could feel him.

This sudden intrusive thought and the harsh grasp of your hips snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should be slowing things down for his sake. Against your will, you gently pushed his chest away and tried to think of anything but the way he was heaving above you from the intensity of the kiss. When you looked at him and saw panic and hesitation etched on his face, you returned your hands to his cheeks again and lowered his head until it was resting against your own.

“There’s nothing I want more than to feel every inch of your skin against mine right now...but- but I don’t want to push you to do something that- maker….that might be too much for you?” You pulled back and waited until he opened his eyes again before continuing. “I feel like you just made a dramatic decision by taking the helmet off in front of me and- and you’re probably feeling a multitude of emotions right now and I don’t want to make you think that I-”

Din didn’t like what you were saying, frowning down at you as he grabbed the back of your neck and violently pulled you towards him again. You were surprised by the sudden shift of his touch, fisting your hands in his cowl as he devoured your lips once more, not really giving you a chance to say anything else. Biting your lower lip, Din abruptly ended the kiss and pressed his lips across your skin, nipping and licking at your jaw as he pulled your hair down until he had access to your neck. You gasped his name and felt his stubble scratch deliciously at your shoulder. As you moaned against the wall, Din couldn’t back anymore and bit down hard on your shoulder, smiling when he heard your breath hitch at his rough ministrations.

“Din, oh gods, Din please.” You weren’t sure what you were asking of him exactly and you hoped he’d at the very least continue what he was doing.

“Cyar'ika, I want to have you. I’ve spent many nights dreaming of your lips, your touch, y-your skin against mine as I-” Din hesitated and it wasn’t until you felt his fingers slipping beneath the chest band that you finally registered his voice. Fuck, how had you not notice it a second ago? You thought the vocoder was what altered it, made it deeper perhaps. But no, it only made it sound more intimidating. You weren’t sure what made you clench your thighs together, the way he spoke to you of his desires, or how strained and gruff his voice was as he whispered his secrets to you. You gulped loudly and hesitantly met his eyes, finding the soft brown irises barely visible, his dilated pupils letting you know what he was thinking.

Licking your lips, you nodded at him and fell into a fit of giggles when he leaned down and picked you up as if you weighed nothing, quickly moving to his cot and laying you down on your back before moving away. You were about to ask him what he was doing when you saw his hands swiftly move through the beskar armor. For some reason, watching his hands expertly take off the cuirass and move to the beskar of his thighs made your heart skip a beat and you wouldn’t dare move a muscle, afraid to miss the show he was unintentionally putting on for you. So busy marveling at his deft fingers, you didn’t notice Din slowing his movements and looking at you, eyebrows raised in curiosity when he saw how hard you were breathing.

You broke out of your trance when you saw he stopped moving, embarrassment washing over you when you realized Din had caught you shamelessly staring at him as he came closer to revealing to you more of his skin. You’d expected him to move on, or at least pretend he hadn’t just caught you licking your lips while staring at his fingers but no, it seemed that Din was very much enjoying the effect he had on you because his smile grew when he saw your eyes look past him, pretending to focus on something else behind him and not his hands.

You never lost his attention though, and he maintained his eyes on you as he removed all of his armor and took his boots off. You tried to be a little more subtle but gave up when he leaned down over you and pushed you into his covers. You wanted to ask him why he was still dressed but bit back the inquiry, afraid he’d misunderstand and move away all together at your question. He captured your gaze and didn’t blink once as he slowly undid the buttons holding the overalls and you realized you would have preferred him to keep the helmet on because that meant you wouldn’t notice how passionate and direct his deep brown irises were. You’d expected him to be intense considering how touch-starved and lonely he was, but you never once thought he’d be this vigorous? Ardent? Maker, there wasn’t a single word that could describe the way he was looking at you right now.

Din kneeled at the foot of the bed, waiting until you finally noticed what he was doing and raising your hips before he pulled on the pants of the garment. He slipped your shoes off and finally removed the article of clothing that made his cheeks blush and pants tighten whenever you wore it. He would eventually tell you that this is how you came to him in his dreams almost every night, all spent and sweaty in that gods-forsaken fabric that gave him the perfect view of what you were wearing beneath.

His focus shifted from your face down your damp skin and he breathed in deeply at the sight of your undergarment. Din almost choked on his breath when your legs parted for a moment, giving him a glimpse of the growing wet patch at the center of the flimsy material.

The Mandalorian wanted nothing more than to worship your body, kiss every part of you and whisper his devotion against your skin as he pleasured you over and over again. He’d spent countless nights imagining what he’d do to you if you were ever naked and willing in his arms and he was damned if he didn’t make sure you were thoroughly spent once he was done with you. He wanted to hear his name fall from your lips and he wanted to swallow your sighs and your moans as he sank into you all night long. And by the gods, he wanted to mark your neck and your arms and your waist, and nothing made him harder than picturing you doing the same to him, biting and nipping at his skin so he could wake up in the morning and watch the evidence of your lo- your touch on him. It didn’t matter that no one else would see those bruises but him and you. He just wanted you, in any way possible, sinking beneath his skin.

And then he heard his voice calling for you over the comm link just outside the room and something snapped deep in his chest. He looked up from you to the open door of his room and listened to the Marshal’s words. Your eyes widened in shock when you saw several emotions pass through Din’s eyes, the most prominent of which was anger, maybe hurt. Of all the times Cobb would ask you to join him for drinks, this was most definitely the worst of them. It didn’t help either that he was laughing over some inappropriate joke one of his friends was saying about your sabacc skills. It wouldn’t be the first time this happened and it certainly wouldn’t be the last but then Din was clenching his jaw tightly before looking down at you and you knew he wasn’t too happy. In fact, you had a pretty good idea which emotion won out and you hated how much it affected you, how wet you became as thoughts of the Mandalorian claiming you as his flooded your mind.

Before you could try and reason with him, attempt to tell him that it was just a game and that the Marshal’s friends were probably just teasing him, Din was standing up and stripping of his long-sleeve shirt, revealing his perfectly chiseled, bronze skin that had your mouth watering within moments. You noticed the few dozen scars littering his beautiful torso and wished you could kiss each one of them, the old ones and the fairly new ones, until they didn’t sting with pain. But Din had different plans for you and he didn’t give you a chance to question him as he took hold of both of your wrists and slammed them above your head. His hold was painful and it should have scared you how quickly his mood changed but you said nothing, looking into his dilated pupils as his nose flared and he growled at you.

“Keep yours hands there,” Din warns you with a piercing look and you gulp loudly before nodding at him in understanding. He removes his hand and kneels on the bed, eyes narrowing at you before they sought after your most private areas. He wasn’t sure where to begin. He’d given this much thought but now that he was here, he realized it was a more difficult decision than he anticipated. He’d longed to wrap his lips around those hardened peaks always teasing him through the chest band, lick them until you cried for him, perhaps begged him to stop because you were sensitive. But then he continued down the lines of your navel and found your parted legs much more inviting.

Now that Din knew how you felt, there was no reason for him to feel jealous. But he couldn't stop himself, wanting to be certain that you knew as well as he who you belonged to. He hated himself for having such primitive thoughts about you. You were your own person that much was made clear early on. But he could hope at your words, couldn’t he? He could hope that you were now his, and that he was yours. Maker, he was always yours. He just couldn’t admit it to himself, his heart reluctant at opening up to another.

Din was lost in thought longer than you liked and you moved your feet towards him, nudging his thigh in hopes of reassuring him that you were right here, in his bed, beneath him and at his mercy. Din’s eyes focused on your again and he looked down at the soft gesture, hands instantly grabbing at your ankles. You jumped at the sudden movement, trying your hardest not to whine at the painful grasp because somewhere deep inside of you, you wanted nothing more than to be marked by him. By his teeth, lips, fingers, any part of him. You didn’t care where you’d bear his touch, you just wanted to see it, touch it in the privacy of the refresher when he wasn’t around.

Din saw the needy look you were throwing him and he knew that you were willing. Willing to go as far as he wanted, willing to completely submit your body and soul to him, willing to do whatever he wished of you.

Before your eyes could flutter closed, Din was pushing your legs wide open and falling in between them while maintaining his gaze on you. He almost smiled when your stomach shook at how feral he probably looked. Leaning forward, he closed his eyes as his mouth latched onto the wet patch forming on the soft fabric of your undergarment, moaning into your cunt as he savored the taste seeping through. You were surprised by the boldness of the action and wished for him to lick your skin instead. But there was something erotic about the desperation behind his actions, wanting to taste you so much that he didn’t care what he was licking.

The thought was gone as soon as it appeared because you felt two fingers stretch beneath the waistband right before he ripped it off of your body, shoving the torn fabric in his nose and taking a long whiff of it before humming in approval. Your eyes widened in surprise at the filthiness of his action, hands shaking above you when he threw your panties expertly into his helmet. The thought of knowing that your scent could potentially stick to the inside of his helmet as he walked around twisted your insides and you whined shamelessly at him, wishing he could just take what he wanted.

“Your sounds belong to me,” Din spoke with a commanding voice as he sank in between your thighs again, his tongue dragging across your folds so deliciously hard until he pulled away, leaving a trail of saliva behind. “Your arousal belongs to me,” his hands went to your thighs and he squeezed, knowing fully well there would be bruises dawning your beautiful, smooth body the following morning. Again, you fought to keep your eyes open, wanting to commit every second to memory but finding it difficult to focus on him and not the pleasure zapping down your back. “And I will be damned if this cunt,” Din let go of one of your thighs, pulling his tongue away from your core right before the palm of his hand landed a slap straight on your clit, “doesn’t belong to me either.” You cried out his name, legs shaking violently at the pain shooting through your clit. Din didn’t give you a moment to relax back down on the covers, spanking the outer folds of your pussy twice more consecutively before he replaced the harsh touch with his cooling tongue. Tears trailed down your cheeks as he fucked you with his tongue and lapped at you like you were the only source of water on this gods-forsaken planet. He rotated between soft, quick licks to long, harsh ones, occasionally sucking on your clit and grazing his teeth on the bundle of nerves until he was sure you were going crazy.

“D-Din oh maker, please. Stop I- slow down.” His touches were far from gentle and the pleasure blurred into pain as you tried to reach that delicious peak you’ve longed for ever since you harbored feelings for the man above you. But he was making it difficult, his needy and erratic movements making it near impossible for you to dive into the lake of pleasure. You should have known that the Mandalorian was as intense in bed as he was in every other aspect of his life. You shut your thighs around his head, wanting to push him away as his teeth continued to graze against your wet folds and nip at the pulsating nub.

“M-Mando...I can’t.” You couldn’t take it anymore, hands moving to his hair and fisting in the beautiful brown locks as you tried to push him away. As soon as Din felt the tight grasp on his hair, he snarled at you, pushing up on his knees and bending your body along with him until the only thing resting on the bed was your neck and your shoulders. You cried out for him, begging him to give you release but it only drove him mad with lust. His eyes locked on yours, daring you to look away from him as his fingers dug into your butt cheeks and pushed your cunt into his mouth.

Din pulled away for a split second, biting your inner thighs to grab your attention.

“You will take what I give you ner Cyar’ika.” You saw a hint of darkness in his soulful brown eyes, and shivered at the mere implications of what he had in mind for you. Din sucked and licked at your folds like a crazed man, feeling your legs shaking on his shoulders. He pulled away for a second, and you had no time to beg him to be gentle as he slapped your heated core three times again, hissing when you shut your eyes and bucked against him, your juices drenching his face and chest, leaking down your back as he smiled before taking your cunt into his mouth one last time to prolong your pleasure. You were too busy trying to remain sane to realize what had just happened and Din slowly lowered you back onto the wet covers before letting go of you. You were panting beneath him, stomach fluttering from the force of your release and chest heaving as you tried to fill your lungs with air.

When you opened your eyes and looked at Din, your eyes widened in horror when you saw his glistening skin, finally realizing what he'd just done to you. You flushed under the scrutiny of Din’s gaze, gasping as he wiped his mouth and jaw with the back of his hand as he looked down and chuckled at the wet spot beneath his knees. You quickly shut your legs and tried to crawl away from him but Din was faster, grabbing your ankle and pulling you back to him, the show of strength already making your cunt clench around nothing again.

“You do not run from me Ad’ika...nor hide from me ever again. I own your body, your skin, the cum still leaking out of this sweet cunt.” His words were filthy and you didn’t know how to react to this new possessiveness he was showing. He pushed open your thighs and fell in between him, bringing his chest flush against yours and kissing the breath out of you, not bothering to be gentle as his fingers twisted and pinched at your nipples. You clawed at his back, wanting more of him but not knowing if you would be able to take any more of what he was offering.

He pulled away suddenly, his jaw clenching tightly as he took one look at the hands wrapped around his back.

“Did I not tell you to not move your hands sweet girl?” He whispered against your lips, breathing in the air leaving your lungs as he pecked the corner of your mouth before flipping you over on your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry...it was just t-too much and-” You couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence, screaming against the covers as you felt Din’s palm land on your ass. You looked back and saw him eyeing your reddening skin, looking up at you and smiling as he treated the other side with the same kindness. Four more times his hands smacked your ass and you were ashamed at how aroused his violent actions made you. When he snuck his fingers in between your thighs and swiped haphazardly at your folds, you moaned and bit into your wrist.

“Filthy sweet girl,” Din whispered more to himself than you before he fisted his hand in your hair and pulled you flush to his chest, the slide of your dampened back against his sweaty chest bringing him more pleasure than he would have liked to admit because not a few hours ago, he was picturing your sweaty, glistening skin beneath him. And now that he had you here, he was going to make the best of it.

“Mando, oh Mando-” As much as he loved hearing you scream his nickname in the throws of passion, he wished more to hear his given name fall from your lips.

“My name...scream my name sweet girl. Let the stars know who pleasures you Cyare.” Din kissed your shoulder before biting into the sweaty flesh, the hand in your hair letting go right before wrapping softly around your throat and pressing you harder against him. Your hands twisted back to try and grab his hair but he immediately took your wrist and twisted it until it was behind you, between your back and his chest.

“Ahh Din…” You wanted to beg him to allow you to touch him, tell him that you were yearning to touch him as much as he was in need of touching you. But you had a feeling that this wasn’t true, and that this was his way of being certain that you weren’t going to leave him. That you were his.

If only he knew that you have already belonged to him. Long before tonight.

You felt each breath leave your lungs as Din tightened his grasp around your throat and you parted your lips to moan his name, only to feel his tongue shamelessly licking into your mouth. So distracted by the desperation in this kiss, you didn’t notice the fingers trailing down your chest and digging into your skin until the palm of his hand softly cupped one breast. Din teased you with feather light touches, flicking at one nipple before moving to the other and circling around it until it hardened. He continued to swallow your noises, sucking on your tongue to quiet you as he pinched your nipples. You twisted in his arms, wanting to reach for him again but knowing that he would probably pull your hand away.

When Din pulled away to allow you to breathe, you panted and finally opened your eyes, not daring to look away as he kept you motionless with his gaze. Din watched as you tried to form a coherent thought, waiting until you parted your lips to speak to him before reaching down and cupping your quivering cunt as he broke the silence.

“This belongs to me,” your breath hitched when Din pressed the palm of his hand against you, not quite applying pressure on your clit but just enough to hold your focus. “Only I get to touch you, kiss you, watch you as you come undone in my arms.” You nodded briefly at him, continuing to hold eye contact as he began to increase his actions. “No one else will ever have you Cyar'ika. No one but me.” He slipped two fingers past your wet folds and rubbed against your walls, humming in approval when he felt you flutter around him the harder he shoved his fingers inside you.

“I’m yours Din, y-yours. Whatever you want, oh gods please more...need more, Din you make me f-feel so good.” Din keened at your words, curling his hand until his palm was passing deliciously over your clit as his fingers picked up the pace.

“That’s right sweet girl, you’re mine. Mine to fuck, mine to take whenever I want...mine to-” Din hesitated for a second, unable to voice his heart to you even though you’ve bared your soul for him. “Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum...kriffing gods you’re wet, so wet for me. Come on, cum for me again ner Cyare. Show me how good I make you feel. Show me how needy this little cunt is, fuck- I...can’t want to have you wrapped around my cock little one. Can’t wait to sink in this pussy, my sweet tight cunt, mark you with my seed, over and over again...fuck a load in you all night long till you can’t feel anything but my cum dripping down your thighs. Shit, I need you to cum, now!” Your mind became foggy with pleasure, unable to focus on anything but the words whispered into your ears as his thick fingers fucked into you. You grabbed the wrist of the hand wrapped around your throat, digging your nails into his skin as you came around his fingers. You almost fell forwards but Din held you flush against him, continuing to drive his digits into you and rub at your clit with this thumb until you were sobbing in his arms.

“Beautiful,” Din kissed your shoulder as he slowly inched his hands away from you before laying you down slowly. His eyes took in the flushed, wet skin of your back, chuckling with pride when he saw your legs shaking as little sobs escaped your lips. Your breaths came in shallow and quick, and you tried to silence your whines by biting into your wrists but then you felt Din slide his hand back and forth on your back as he laid next to you and you shivered under his touch because from the way he was moving closer to you and touching you, there was no way he was done just yet.

“You’re all I think about, every waking moment. It’s difficult to focus on anything else when you’re always in my mind Cyar'ika. I- I burn for you, for your lips to caress mine every moment, your eyes to never leave mine as I brand you, your skin against my own as you mark me with your touch. I- maker, I cannot think of a life without you here, with me…” Din thought he would have to force himself to say such things but he found it remarkably easy now that he had you here, responding so openly and shamelessly to him.

“Din,” you turned your head and shifted towards him, kissing the hand resting between the two of you before leaning your forehead against his and shutting your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here, for as long as you’ll have me.” Din ceased all movement at your words and he looked away from where he was stroking your back, meeting your eyes and furrowing his eyebrows before you felt him grab your arm and pull you on top of him. You surprised gasp died in your throat when you felt Din wrap his arms around your back and bring you against him until you could feel his chest hairs tickling your nipples. You could feel his cock jutting against your core through his pants and as you rested your hands on his chest and looked to him, you saw the frown ease from his expression, replaced with something akin to reverence.

“I will have you until my dying breath Mesh’la. Let me show you how much I want you.” The force of his declaration hit you instantly and you pressed your lips against his just as you felt him rid himself of his pants. Din’s hands were roaming your back and you felt bolder with every caress, combing your fingers into his hair and pulling on it as he squeezed your ass and bucked into you. The growl emanating from his chest shot straight to your core and you raised yourself from him for a moment.

“Din, I want you. Crave to feel you inside me. Please, do it fast and don’t- don’t be gentle. Show me, show me how much you lo- want me.” Din’s heart skipped a beat at your words and he wasted no time, taking hold of his cock and teasing your clit with his leaking tip before slowly inching inside you. You shut your eyes and dug your nails into the back of his neck as he continued to sheath his dick deeper in your cunt. You could feel every ridge and pulsating vein dragging against your inner walls, finally allowing your lungs to breathe as you felt him nudge and twitch against that soft, spongy spot in your core.

Neither of you moved for a few moments, with Din trying to wrap his mind around finally becoming one with you and feeling you clench so sweetly around him. He was torn between fucking up into you without mercy and taking it nice and slow until he pushed you over the edge again. But then you were gyrating your hips and sighing his name on his cheek and he knew what he wanted.

Planting his feet on the damp covers, Din held you flush against him with one arm while resting his other hand on your thigh, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he snapped his hips up before sinking into you again. You let out a surprised sob and rested your forehead against his shoulder, whispering more pleas against his skin and begging him to move.

The usually quiet man breathed the sweetest wishes in your ears, thrusting up into you with immense force that made you clench tighter around him. “Ni copad gar an te ca'nara Ad’ika, ni vercopa be gar anay ca. You have made a home for yourself inside my heart.” Din felt your shaky breath blow on his neck and it drove him mad with lust because he wanted to have you reacting to his touch so wantonly every minute of every day. His grip only tightened around you and he prayed you wouldn’t mind the bruises that would surely color your skin in the next few hours. He wasn’t planning on being gentle tonight, perhaps later, but not tonight, and he was going to ensure his touch would be visible for anyone that would speak with you tomorrow. Thoughts of the Marshal passed through his mind’s eye and he growled, pumping his cock into you harshly for some reassurance. You cried out his name over and over again, feeling your skin heat up at the declarations of love he was peppering on your skin because even though his words were gentle, his touches were far from it.

The squelching sounds of your cunt flooding Din’s thighs as he drove himself into you should have embarrassed you but you could tell he enjoyed knowing how wet you were for him from the way he continued to quicken the pace just to hear your juices flowing over him. His grip on you was becoming more painful the more you moved against each other but you couldn’t find it in yourself to let him know. He was letting go, showing you how much he wanted you, how hard he was for you, and you weren’t about to make him feel conscious over his affection.

“Maker...oh Din, Din I- you feel so good inside me. Filling me up like no one else. Could feel you so deep, gods, could feel you everywhere Din please- don’t stop. Don’t fucking stop, I need it. Need you, want you- want you to mark me, d-do whatever you want with me.” You had no hold over your own speech and weren’t sure if you were making any sense but Din moaned each time you praised him.

“Good girl, sweet girl...taking my cock so well, kriffing hell. Your- your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of me..could feel every tight inch of you stroking my cock Cyar’ika. Ah pfassk...you’re- you’re perfection.” Din moved the hand around your back up to your neck, pulling on your hair and pressing his lips with yours as his cock throbbed inside you. You whined as his tongue roughly swirled around your own, barely able to breathe as he continued to snap his hips against you and suddenly feeling a rush of relief as his navel rubbed at your clit until you came around him. Din broke the kiss, screaming expletives in his tongue as the force of your orgasm pushed his cock out of you. You shuddered as you gushed on his dick, wrapping your arms around his neck when he forced his cock into your tight cunt again.

You were so overcome with emotions, so lost in Din’s scent mixing with your own, and his touch leaving bruises on your skin, that you didn’t notice the faint sounds of footsteps coming up the ramp and halting in the middle of the ship right in front of the door. But Din noticed, managing to look up just in time to see Cobb standing in the middle of the ship and staring with wide eyes at the scene unfolding in front of him.

Something completely otherworldly took over the Mandalorian and he quickly sat up, expertly moving the two of you around until he was kneeling on the covers with you straddling his thighs. He smiled against your shoulder, allowing your hair to hide his face as he grabbed both of your hips and fucked up into you.

He could vaguely see the Marshal and was surprised that he hadn't dropped the bottle of drink in his hand just yet. You wailed into the night air, arms keeping you stead in Din’s arms as he forced you on his pulsating dick over and over again.

“Tell me...tell me Cyare, tell me how much you love it when I fuck you. How much you need my cock like the filthy little cockslut you are. Go on sweet girl, grind that little clit on me. Fucking tell me ner Ad’ika.” Din smacked your ass twice, chuckling when your moans grew more lewd with every touch he laid on you.

“I- I- ahhh love your cock...oh maker, no one fucks me like you. N-no one makes me c-cum like you. Fuck me harder D- ahhh,” Din bit down on your shoulder to prevent you from saying his name, looking through the mess of your hair and watching as his audience remained incapable of moving.

“I own this pretty little pussy. Pffassk- ride me harder Mesh’la. You’re such a good girl, could feel your cunt drenching my thighs, the smell of you is driving me mad. Fuck- keep that pretty mouth open to me when I’m fucking you, let me hear you scream for me.”

“Please- please...fuck me harder, ruin my pussy. Gods- I..I’m so close please. Tell me you own me, tell me I’m you’re sweet girl. Please- I want to be good for you, want you to cum inside me Din...cum inside me. I need it, need you to fuck me like you own me and mark me, make me yours Mando. Cum in me, please-”

“Ah fuck you’re my sweet little girl aren’t you? Wanting me to fuck a load in you, cum in you all night long and keep my seed in that tight cunt? That’s it sweetheart, I’m so fucking hard for you. Could feel you clenching around me...be a good girl and cum again ner kar'ta. Fuck, yes yes you feel so good wrapped around my cock Cyare you’re going to make me cum. Spill my seed in that tight, wet pussy, fill you up till you can taste it in your throat. Shit, and- and I’m going to keep fucking you sweet girl, till my cum is sliding down your thighs. My little fucktoy- come on, come on love, cum for me. Cum on me, drench me again. Mix your juices with me.” Din watched as Cobb finally had the mind to leave and he almost laughed at how the man almost tripped on his own foot as he sprinted out of the ship. He pushed you on your back and spread your thighs open, resting his weight on the arms around your head as he thrust in a few more times before he felt you clench around him. Leaning down, Din took a pert nipple in his mouth and sucked on it, growling into your skin as he came deep in your pussy, painting your walls with long strings of his seed until he couldn’t breathe. He’d never cum this hard before and was sure to tell you when you had the state of mind to pay him any semblance of attention.

Din continued to lazily push into you, your words from earlier replaying in his mind as he felt you quiver around his softening cock. You were still coming down from your high and twitched occasionally when you felt him throb inside you. There was a pleasant kind of warmth washing over you and you sighed happily when you realized he was still bucking against you to push his cum in your belly.

“D-din...you’re filling me up so good. Feel so full ah- gah.” He laughed when your body shook, wrapping his arms around you and flipping you around until you were laying on his chest. You kissed his jaw and his neck, moaning in unison when you felt his dick rub against that sweet spot inside you.

“That’s because I’ve never cum this hard sweet girl. You’ve milked me dry Cyare. Could feel you sucking my seed out of me.” He was amazed at your obvious embarrassment, wanting to tease you about it but choosing to wait for later instead.

Din rubbed at your back, kissing your forehead as he whispered sweet things in your ears and smiling when you nipped at his neck some more.

“Promise me you’ll never leave.” Din’s quiet voice broke the silence and you pushed up to look into his eyes as you responded. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you tell me to go. I’ll stay here, always. I promise.” You kissed him gently and felt his pulse beneath your fingers calm at your words.

Not much time has passed before Din had you on your knees in front of him, fucking your mouth and shoving you down on his cock until you gagged and his seed slipped from the corner of your mouth, mixing with your spit as it fell down your breasts. You lost count of how many times he brought you pleasure, and you made a mental note to ask him how he managed to fuck you all night long. You weren’t sure it was possible for a man to cum this many times over the course of one night but you had a feeling Din was not like anyone else. A man who has been touch starved for almost three decades must have had a lot of pent-up aggression that he needed to release. And you would gladly help him in any shape or form through that.

And when he wasn’t pumping your cunt full of his cum, he was nuzzling into your neck and laying kisses across your arms, making sure he caressed every inch of your skin. You shouldn’t have been surprised that Din loved to snuggle with you but you did find it hilarious that such a big and scary Mandalorian whimpered when you licked down his neck as you nestled into his arms. You wouldn’t tell him just yet but besides his rough grasps and his filthy words, you loved to taste the saltiness of his skin and from the looks of it, the feelings were mutual because at some point in the night, he’d told you of all the times he had to lock himself up in the refresher and try his hardest to not think of your sweaty limbs entangling with his own as he kissed you.

By the time the two of you made it outside the following day, the twin suns had already been in the middle of the sky, scorching rays of heat on everyone across Mos Pelgo. You tried your hardest not to walk too funny, mostly because it made Din apologize every now and then, but it was difficult when you could still feel traces of his touch on you. You told him you needed him to stop making it obvious but realized he was apologizing out of regret not out of humor. It took you all of the afternoon to convince him that you were feeling more than okay and that you’d asked him for this. And when he didn’t seem to stop, you teased him and told him that you knew he secretly loved watching you wobble from side to side.

This all, however, peaked when you walked into the cantina and tried to play Sabbac with Cobb Vanth and the others. You could tell that the Marshal was avoiding all conversation with you, going out of his way to pretend you weren’t even sitting on the table, let alone the room. You hoped that Mando hadn’t spoken with him or anything and decided to call it quits earlier in the night. When you did make it back to the ship and saw Din cleaning his weapons, you made sure the ship was secure before moving to sit on the bed across from him.

“Did you talk to Cobb today?” You gauged his reaction, already sensing that something was wrong when you saw him nervously clench his jaw before rubbing furiously at the beskar weapon.

“No, why do you ask?” Din wished he hadn’t already taken off his helmet because as soon as he responded, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.

“Din?”

He looked up at you and cleared his throat before speaking.

“He- he saw us...last night. I- I must have forgotten to raise the ramp and-” Din took a deep breath when you shot up from the cot and began to pace back and forth.

“HE WHAT?”

“We were...I couldn’t- there wasn’t a chance I could…you felt too good around me Ad’ika I- I couldn’t stop. Not when you were clenching around me so tightly. Now when you were finally in my arms. I-” He stood up and walked towards you, taking your hands into his and kissing both of your wrists. You flushed at his words and looked up at him, only to find him blushing under your gaze.

“You did it on purpose didn't you? You wanted him to see...to watch as you- as we...as I said-” Din didn’t let you finish the sentence, leaning down and molding his lips with yours as he walked you back to his bed. He pushed you down on the covers still holding your scents, his hold hardening the more you moaned against him. Before he could strip you of your clothes, you pushed him off and stuck out your finger in warning.

“Oh no you don’t. Go raise the ramp.”

“You’re giving me orders now Mesh’la?” Din raised an eyebrow at you as he got off of you and walked around the bed, halting at the doorstep to look back at you.

“Never…”

Translations:

Ad'ika - Little one

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Ner - my/mine

Pal'vut at kar'taylir darasuum - mine to love

Ni copad gar an te ca'nara - I want you all the time.

Ni vercopa be gar anay ca - I dream of you every night.

Ner kar'ta - my heart

#The Mandalorian fanfiction #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian smut #mando x reader #Mando smut #Mando fanfiction #Din Djarin x Reader #Din Djarin smut #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #baby yoda #grogu

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Night Changes

This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.

Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.

Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.

“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.

Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”

Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”

James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.

James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”

The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.

“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.

“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.

“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”

“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.

It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”

There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.

Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”

“Thought I lost you for a sec.”

“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.

“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”

Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”

“How?”

“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”

‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”

Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.

Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”

“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”

With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.

“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”

They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.

“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”

“I’m a good listener.”

James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”

Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”

“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”

“Probably not.”

“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”

“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.

“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.

James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”

----------------

As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.

His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.

Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”

“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.

“A swimming pool.”

The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like—poule, like chicken?”

His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.

“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.

Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”

A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.

“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.

“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”

Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”

“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.

James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.

Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”

“What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”

“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”

James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.

#sirius black #james potter #pascal dumais #kasey winter #sergei ivanov #thomas walker #rookie #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #pre-cap #friendship

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yuzukult · 3 years

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acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

#ficscafe #nct fanfic #johnny x reader #johnny fanfic #johnny suh #johnny nct #nct 127 #nct 127 fanfic #suh johnny #gyukultfics #idk what else to tag #hopefully this does well :|

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Text

𝘼𝙐𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙨 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩

i wanted to use this picture so badly but I knew it would ruin the mood.

∘ request(s):

"ayo? they’re not sleeping with anyone else??? does that mean???? raw??? w edgy karl????????

"ooooo i’m lacking in edgy karl content😩 for the next one could you do one where maybe the reader is being a brat and karl puts them in their place? if that makes sense?"

"Ever since I read your edgy Karl x reader I been getting massive brainrot where reader is just questioning their relationship and Karl is just dismissive about it. It feels great to get that off my chest. 😭"

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (18+ minors dni), smut, prostitution (sort of), drinking, Todd the frat boy, crude/suggestive language, degradation, asphyxiation, spitting, angst

∘ word count: ~5k

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

∘ song recommendation: Come Here by Dominic Fike

a/n: y'all really drive this series oml. thank you to all your requests! should I do song recs on these or is that dumb? happy reading :)

♡ ᵍᵉⁿᵉ

You adjusted your dress, attempting to not look as unkempt as you felt. Your hair had luckily survived the bus ride to Karl’s, yet your clothing was wrinkled from being smashed against various girls with the same destination in mind. You scoffed to yourself as you leaned against the side of the house, tugging your heel into a more comfortable position as one of the women in the group knocked on the large door.

It felt like there was always some random party blaring out of the windows, so you were surprised to be mixed into an excited group of girls waiting to be invited in by one of the Brothers. The only time when you’d been over to visit Karl and there wasn’t some kind of celebration of a random event was directly before spring break.

A nameless member dressed in a tux answered the door and you bit back a laugh as he welcomed everyone into the foyer. As you scanned the crowd for Karl, you noticed the number of older people lounging about in formal attire. You furrowed your brows slightly, knowing that Todd was probably behind whatever cultist bullshit was about to happen.

You wracked your brain trying to remember if Karl had mentioned anything about the importance tonight, but knowing the two of you, he’d probably begun to tell you only for him to get distracted.

A familiar laugh drew your attention to one corner of the living room where a man who looked dangerously like Karl playfully shrugged out of the grasp of another frat member. His nails were bare and he lacked any piercings, his hair even tamed so it fell just right over his forehead. You couldn’t deny the way your mind ran absolutely feral at the view of him, as if you’d stepped into some strange alternate universe where Karl was actually Carl.

As someone else struck up the conversation in his group, he turned to look over the crowd, chewing on his bottom lip in thought. His eyes brightened as he spotted you in the mix of the group. Whoever had let you into the house handed you and the rest of the people a brochure, something you then realized most of the room was holding.

You snorted slightly as you read, “46th ANNUAL MEMBER AUCTION,” printed boldly across the front page in elegant script. Your stomach twisted slightly at the discovery. You flipped open the pamphlet, seeing a list of numbers and the names of corresponding Brothers.

Karl was 23.

“I didn’t even sign up, honestly,” a voice called in your ear as Karl leaned over your shoulder, peering at the page in your hands. His cologne was more expensive than he usually wore, made obvious by the way it complemented his natural scent with a fuller smell.

You turned slightly, nearly leaning into his warm breath above you as you moved to look at him. “Come on, let them pimp you out,” you joked, your finger underlining one of the details on the back. “It’s for the frat Karl,” you mocked, making him roll his eyes playfully. “You look awfully pretty to not have signed up,” you chided, a small amount of jealousy tugging in your chest.

He ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes dancing with mischief as he looked down at you. “Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “You know how loyal I am to this frat. I think it’s only right,” you continued to josh, eliciting a low chuckle from him. The smell of his whiskey hung beautifully on him. You’d be damned not to acknowledge what a catch he was.

He pulled his hand from his pocket and settled it on the small of your back, the two of you mumbling to each other as you headed towards the kitchen so he could pour you a drink. As he explained the process of the auction, your nerves started to change drastically. Luckily, your exterior kept this from Karl because you weren’t even sure yourself why you could be feeling so strongly about the event. “... Really, only the married guys get out of it without being heckled all night. It’s… I don’t know. It’s pretty lame.”

“So basically, it’s an event where the guys objectify themselves in the name of the frat." You jested, your eyes glued on his pinky ring, the only symbol of the Karl you knew. "Have you done this before?”

Karl shook his head. “I wasn’t old enough, thank God.” He leaned against the counter beside you, his back to the circulating groups of people so he was only looking at you. As he slouched, he matched your height.

You reached forward, taking the unbuttoned collar of his white shirt between your finger pads. “I’m trying to decide if I’m scared or aroused by this version of you,” you tittered, wanting so badly to feel his teeth against your skin. He smirked at you. “It’s like Wonderbread you. Like you’d have to sign a contract with me before you gave me a hug,” you teased further, making the smug look on his face twist into a laugh.

He leaned closer to you, his hand brushing to lay against the curve of your hip. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I can still rip you in half.”

You took a sip of the Brandy in your glass to hide the moan wanting to rip through your throat at the closeness of him. His lips brushed against your skin before pressing a kiss behind your ear subtly. You nudged him away from you reluctantly as Todd strolled into the kitchen, arms raised slightly as if he’d been searching the high heavens for Karl.

He moved to stand between the two of you, reaching for a decanter of a liquid you couldn’t place. Karl crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. “Karl, I have been looking everywhere for you.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pin with Karl’s number on it and nudging it towards him on the counter. “You know, it’s kind of fun that partners can’t bid because-” he paused before wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his side. You let out a laugh, resting your hand against his chest as Karl’s eyes darkened at the two of you. “-Your lovebug can have me tonight then, huh?” He mocked, smirking.

“Well, technically, I’m not his partner…” you added, pretending to touch Todd flirtatiously.

Todd’s arms pulled you closer. “You know what I mean, Princess.” You snickered, pushing him off of you as he moved to lean against the sink behind you. “Come on, Karl. I’m practically handing you the opportunity to hook up with MILFs, random TAs, and sorority girls,” he begged, making Karl pinch the bridge of his nose.

“That does sound intriguing,” you chimed, making Karl giggle mildly.

Todd’s eyes lit up with a sarcasticness as if you were actually promoting the idea. “You can go instead if you want to, babygirl,” he offered, tilting his head in an action to resemble a car salesman.

You looked to Karl with raised eyebrows and he shook his head in disbelief at the stupidity of whatever banter you and Todd were striking up. “That would be fun! Please, illegally pimp me out instead. I want to be solicited-”

Todd’s hand reached out to clamp over your mouth. “Okay stop.” He straightened his tie and the pin on his lapel in the shape of a number 12. You quietly wondered who were in the top places and what they were doing to be in those spots. “Karl, you’re a legacy dick. Most of those women out there probably hooked up with your family members and are back for more of that sweet sweet Jacobs-”

Karl cut him off gruffly. “-I’ll do it if you don’t finish that sentence and never bring that to my attention again.” Todd pretended to zip his lips before pointing to the pin and walking off. You took the pin in your hands, trying to ignore the shakiness of your fingers as you pinned it onto his jacket. “You know his name is actually Mark, right? He pretended to be a Romney for his first two years here.”

You snorted. “Don’t feed me that information right now.” You wet your lips, feeling his eyes on you as you brushed your hands down his lapels. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to… I was just joking.” You chewed the inside of your cheek. “Like, we can leave if you want,” you offered softly.

Karl chuckled, moving his hands up to rest over yours. “Someone’ll pay fifty bucks to take me to some dodgy hotel for ten minutes. It’ll be okay,” he assured. “Maybe I'll have fun, who knows.” He drew you closer once again. You swore you could get drunk off the intoxicating allure of his breath. “I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

You furrowed your brows, suddenly worried about having that conversation with him. “If you’re okay with it, I am,” you answered quietly, sending him a small shrug.

He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, shrugging back at you.

Everyone began to gather around the grand piano in one corner of the living room. You could suddenly feel the heat of the massive fireplace against your bare legs as Karl rested an arm against the wall above you, leaning over you slightly. “How much would you bid on me, if you could?” He whispered as Todd explained some rules to the bidders.

You looked up at him reaching up to play with his lot number. You hummed slightly in mock thought. “Maybe a packet of ramen, a Speedway rewards card, and…” you trailed off before digging into your purse and grabbing a handful of quarters, “five dollars in linty coins?” You joked, sending him an innocent smile.

He bit back a laugh. “I feel like you’re the only one that knows my true value,” he quipped sarcastically.

As the auction began to kick off, men were being bought for various currencies, from picnics in the park to gala dates and etcetera. The tension in your shoulders began to cool as there were fewer ambiguous payments. The women and men that paid sums of money were the ones that worried you the most. Karl’s hand slithered up your back until he reached the back of your neck, pressing his fingers into your skin almost possessively.

You focused on the crowd, trying to notice any peering eyes cutting into Karl, but no one seemed to have the slightest clue. Karl’s fingers worked at a knot in your neck, making you want to moan at his touch. You hated being this close to him and unable to mark him as your own. He pulled you closer, pressing his lips to the skin on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by your dress. “Relax,” he whispered, heat raking through your body at the sound of his voice.

Finally, his number came up. Before the auctioneer could finish introducing him, a handful of sorority girls sparked up with heavy numbers in the air. Your eyes widened and you could feel Karl stiffen behind you at their urgency. As their bids began to grow and add zeros, your heart began to beat in your ears.

“$5000.” Your mouth grew dry as the number halted the noise in the room. Bewilderedly, you searched the room until your eyes landed on a woman in her early-50s. You couldn’t help your mouth slightly fall open. “I’d like to bid $5000,” she repeated. You downed the rest of your Brandy, letting the alcohol sting your throat and warm your stomach. As Karl’s turn closed, your mind went blank. What did I expect to happen? You scorned.

After about an hour, the bidding was over. You plastered on a smile after everyone exited the room, standing before Karl and spending the time you had left letting your mind race with emotion. “What’s wrong?” Karl asked, nudging your arm with his elbow.

You swatted him off. “You excited to spend time with your new mommy?” You chided, making him raise his eyebrows. Your voice came out a bit more condescending than you’d intended.

Something dark flitted across his expression. “Definitely.” He pressed closer to your ear again. “I bet she cums on the slow stroke,” he leered, making you inch away from him. He giggled slightly at his own joke, before noticing your quietness. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, unable to explain just how you were feeling about the situation. It was as if reality had seeped into your bones at what had happened.

Karl ran his fingers against his bottom lip as he looked at you, the skin flushing a deeper red. You’d seen the color too many times to count, but it was usually due to stimulation from you. “Don’t be like that. What’s going on?” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms softly. This seemed to only further allure him. “If you’re gonna act like a brat, I’ll start treating you like a brat,” he whispered, perking your attention. You let your eyes wander back to the ground. He took your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him. His calm expression added arousal to your swimming cauldron of feelings.

You pulled out of his grasp. You bit your tongue, grasping at your thoughts and searching for what you wanted to tell him. His grey irises swirled with some kind of worry and what you could only describe as fondness. Instead, you chickened out. “Just use protection, okay?” You faltered.

His features remained quiet as if in thought. In one swift movement, his hand brushed against your jaw, pressing his lips against yours. Your whole body relaxed into his touch, your eyes closing to relish in the feeling of silent loyalty to you. As his tongue brushed against your lips, it was as if he was stating just what you meant to him. If you weren’t in the right mind, you’d moan a gracious pledge of your mutual devotion into his mouth.

He pulled away shortly, leaving you flushed and winded as he reached his thumb up to swipe away the smearing of your lipstick. “I’m in your fuckin’ pocket, remember?” He acquiesced almost emotionlessly, before dropping his hands and letting you stumble. You had to will your body not to grin at what he’d said as the woman who bid on him approached the two of you.

She shook hands with both of you talking about the thrill of the event and how she’s gone for the last couple of years. “Ma’am, he’s a virgin. Please be careful,” you noted as Karl helped her into her coat. Karl’s eyes shot daggers into you, biting back a laugh of his.

The woman giggled with her whole chest. “Oh, darling. That won’t be an issue,” she gasped as she caught her breath. You covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile as you made eye contact with an ill-looking Karl.

You opted to head back to your apartment, eyeing the clock each time you get an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. Your roommate had gone out for the night, leaving you to stew in your own thoughts. As two hours passed, you were beginning to feel phantom notifications from your phone, your heart skipping with faltering hope.

As if your prayers had finally been answered, a brief knock at your door sent you jumping over the back of the couch and tugging on a hoodie before you threw open the door. Karl stood leaning against the frame and cracking his knuckles. He eyed you curiously as he noticed your urgency. His shirt was barely buttoned and untucked, hair ruffled and curling here and there. As you let him into your apartment, your mouth grew dry with anticipation. Karl slumped onto your couch, kicking his feet up on your coffee table and raising an eyebrow at you.

You wet your lips, sitting on the arm of a chair near his side of the couch. “How was it?” You asked. “Did you learn anything?”

He scoffed, humor dancing behind his eyes. “You will never guess where I was.” You furrowed your brows at him as if it wasn’t obvious. To this he shook his head, sitting up to lean his elbows on his knees, reaching forward to pull you into the empty spot beside him. “So, that woman owns an art studio downtown and she holds classes for whoever. The nail polish girl in my art class is like the right-hand man to that woman and she caught wind of the auction,” he paused to loosen a few more of his buttons. “The woman has always gone to the auction, but the girl knew I was participating this year and recommended me.”

“Okay, so… You were in an art class all night?” You probed, making him grin smugly at you.

He ran his fingers through his hair. “Not exactly.”

You snorted, leaning into the cushions and turning towards him. “They weren’t drawing you nude were they?” You joked sarcastically, the mental image proving to be almost unthinkable. His eyes shifted to his lap as he chuckled and you punched his arm. “You’re kidding!”

He shook his head, biting back a grin. “I had old dudes staring at my dick for two hours straight and trying to recreate it in charcoal.” You covered your mouth with your hand, waiting for him to reveal that he was joking. “They liked my cheekbones,” he taunted.

You huffed in disbelief. “Oh my fucking God.” Your mind was utterly blank. “So, you didn’t sleep with anyone?”

He smiled at you. “Nope. You’re still my only one.” Your cheeks flushed at this. “That being said, you were so incredibly immature earlier,” he chided, making your eyebrow perk with discontent.

“Excuse me,” you nearly hissed.

His eyes navigated your body. “Jealous little brat, honestly,” he scoffed. “Make it up to me.” You stared at him blankly, as if unable to comprehend his words. He moved his arms to rest on the back of the couch, letting his legs spread a bit further. You watched him intently as his jaw tensed, looking slightly intimidating as he eyed you. His calm expression started you, gears turning behind his eyes. “Did I stutter?” He nipped.

You climbed onto his lap, letting his hands slip beneath your hoodie as he gripped your hips, pulling you down to grind against his leg. Heat spread across your body at the friction, realizing now just how needy you’d been for most of the night. Funny how you didn’t even think of taking care of yourself without Karl there.

He tugged your collar to the side, pressing his lips against the sensitive skin of your neck, his warm breath a stark contrast to the cool temperature of the room. You felt his teeth glide over the valleys of your collarbones as if threatening to mark you as the brat you were. His brat.

His fingers dug into your skin, his knee bouncing slightly as he pushed you to increase your speed. You moaned against his shoulder, reaching the hand that wasn’t planted securely on his arm towards his belt. The clasp was almost second nature for you, considering the various places and positions you’d been in and wrestling with it.

As you slipped your hand into his pants, he groaned, bucking against your touch as if he'd been hungry for you all night. He rested his hand in the crook of your neck, roughly bringing your lips to his own. Instead of kissing you immediately, his lips brushed against yours, the smell of his breath dancing against your skin and forcing you to want him more as your hips moved to make up for the lack of his taste on your tongue.

Your hand gripped him through his boxers, earning a muffled grunt of pleasure from Karl. His eyes threatened to roll as you began to palm him, his breathing deep and needy. Curses hissed through his teeth, the sound further adding to how turned on you were. "Give me your mouth," he moaned, a demand you were more than happy to fulfill as you slipped onto your knees in front of him. Karl's hand gathered your hair as you tugged his boxers down. Your fingers traced the hem of his dress pants that ran against the inside of his thigh before attending to his arousal once again.

Then something clicked into your mind. "I've been thinking about what Todd said," you began, Karl's reaction dulling as you began to pump your hand around his dick. "About me sleeping with him," you continued, your voice dripping with a venomous innocence.

Karl twitched in your hand, his grip on your hair tightening. You moaned slightly as his eyes hardened. "Tread lightly, pet," he nearly growled. The gruffness of his voice sending goosebumps down your back. "You're on thin fucking ice already."

You looked up at him with doe eyes, crowding his lap. "I wonder if he's bigger than you," you commented.

You seemed to find the last straw rather quickly as Karl grabbed your arms, pulling you up and throwing you on the couch beneath him. "Fucking bitch," he snapped, ripping your underpants down your legs. "And here I was about to make this about you," he chuckled darkly, leaning on his knee to slip his jacket off his shoulders and discard his button-up shirt.

He grabbed your thighs, pulling you towards him before he ground his hips against yours roughly, clashing his lips against yours. He tugged on your hair tightly, tongue pressing into your mouth.

His lips left yours, pulling your hoodie over your head and throwing it across the room before digging his teeth into your chest. You moaned at his efforts, basking in the roughness of his actions. Karl pushed himself into you without warning, and without hesitation, he began to snap his hips into yours. Your thighs tightened around his waist, attempting to adjust to his speed before he hooked one of your legs in the crook of his elbow, pushing it towards your chest.

His hand moved to wrap around your neck possessively, his eyes burning into yours with a mix of lust and glimmers of the sadistic side of him that loved to see you tremble beneath his touch as he restricted your breathing, only for you to gasp for air when he allowed. "Fucking brat," he barked, pounding into you faster. "Bring him up again and I'll make your life miserable," he groaned, spitting into your mouth to illustrate his point.

You let him take his anger out on you as you fought not to grin at the pure sparks of pleasure pulsing through your veins at the view of him completely dominating you. Your eyes fluttered shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip in an attempt not to cum from the intense stimulation, your fingers digging into the softness of the couch beneath you as you searched for something to anchor yourself.

Karl leaned back slightly, dragging a hand through his hair as he slowed his hips, his eyes glued to yours, the new angle driving him deeper into you. The view of him above you like this oddly reminded you of when the two of you went to parties and spent the night grinding against each other in the massive crowds of your peers to an unidentifiable song.

Any idiot could tell Karl could fuck by the way he danced.

Karl pressed his hips firmly against yours, bucking into you relentlessly once again, pulling your hands above your head and holding your wrists in his fist. He kissed you harshly once again, swallowing your attempts to catch your breath and dragging his teeth across your lips again.

You felt unable to control your orgasm as it raced through you, your moans echoing into Karl's mouth as your body tensed. Karl used your orgasm to ride out the rest of his own pleasure, smirking slightly at your disheveled appearance.

As the air settled, the two of you straighten up the living room, making sure to find each article of clothing so your roommate wouldn't comment. Karl sat back down on the couch, reaching an arm out for you. You raised an eyebrow at him hesitantly, with a small smirk playing on your lips.

He huffed jokingly. "Come on, I can't fuck your brains out and not hug you at least for a bit," he joshed, gesturing for you to join him.

You let out a small laugh. The man with multiple piercings, tattoos, and a glare that can insight nightmares, was always the first to ask to cuddle. You tucked into the spot beneath his arm, letting his grasp tighten around you as you wrapped a blanket around the both of you.

His heartbeat thumped against your ear, making you want to slip into a deep sleep. "I think we should set Todd up with Nail Polish Girl," you joked, breaking into the comfortable silence between the two of you. You glanced up at Karl as you said this, hoping to gauge his reaction as you silently apologized for what you'd said earlier in the name of getting him riled up.

He chuckled shortly. "We should probably straighten ourselves out before we meddle in other people's relationships," he mocked. It'd come out as a light-hearted statement, but it tugged heavily at your nerves.

You pushed yourself to sit up and look at him, suddenly anxious. "What do you mean? We're fine, right?"

Karl smirked. "Well yeah, but sooner or later we're going to have to figure out what we're doing." He wet his lips. "I mean, how much longer are we supposed to just mindlessly hook up."

"We're not mindlessly hooking up. We're friends too," you reasoned, your voice uneven as you attempted to inject humor in your statements, hoping to mask your hesitation.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Yeah, but don't you want more? Like who do you say I am when your friends ask?" He raised his eyebrows, shortly waiting for a response before continuing. "A booty call, right? Am I supposed to be a booty call forever?"

You were taken aback slightly. His tone wasn't provocative, but that didn't stop your heart from racing. "What are you saying?"

He shrugged. "What does it sound like I'm saying?" He sat up a bit more to angle towards you. "I don't mean now, but eventually I'd like this to mean a bit more."

You stood up from the couch, nearly tripping over the coffee table as you reached for a pair of discarded sweatpants and slipped them on. "This is a lot to think about," you mumbled, unable to make eye contact with him. Your mind raced with the different outcomes of what he was talking about. Also, all of them involved the two of you going stale and him finding comfort in other people. "I mean… what we have now is good. Isn't it?"

Karl stood too, raising his hands slightly as if he were consoling a cornered animal. "I didn't mean to freak you out. I thought we were on the same page?" You rubbed the back of your neck nervously, looking for words. "I- uh. I'm sorry." His hands fisted at his sides awkwardly, his sleeves rolled to his elbows. Sirens wailed from outside your windows, the street becoming the only noise in your apartment as he awaited your next move. "I'm actually… gonna head out. I'll uh… I'll text you later," he stated, grabbing his jacket, gauging your reaction.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Tag List:

@mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu

#this was so hard to write #edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #mcyt smut #mcyt x y/n #karl jacobs x you #karl jacobs my beloved #karl jacobs angst #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs fanfic #college au #college au karl jacobs #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x y/n

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beautiful-and-terrible · 3 years

Text

little things

Rating: Gen

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, SoftBoi!Rodrick, Insecure!Reader

Ship: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Warnings: Body Image, Eating Disorders / Body Dysmorphia, Insecurity

A/N: this is. SO shmoopy and cheesy lmaoooo but this was an anon request and i live to please :) enjoy!

---

You dragged yourself through your front door, kicking off your shoes in the foyer. The house was dark - your parents were probably asleep already.

You had just spent the day with Rodrick at Six Flags, and you were exhausted from spending all day in the hot sun, running around with your boyfriend like children. You smiled to yourself thinking about the events of the day, the thrill of the rollercoasters you went on.

You clutched the teddy bear Rodrick had won you close to your chest as you slowly ascended the stairs, trying not to make too much noise.

You entered your room and tenderly placed the bear on the bed, giving it a little kiss on the head as you did so before starting your night routine. Change into pajamas, brush teeth, wash face. As you were putting on your final face cream, your phone vibrated on the bathroom counter. You knew who it was from the specific rhythm of the vibration - two short bursts, like a heartbeat.

Rodrick had sent pictures of you two from today - a lot of selfies, but also a couple of far away shots that Rodrick had harassed people into taking for you. People rarely were able to say no to Rodrick once he had gotten an idea into his head - even if that idea was wrapping himself around a street lamp like a stripper for a good picture.

You finally, blissfully laid down in bed, letting out a giant groan as you cracked your back. You browsed the photos, feeling your heart-rate pick up as you gazed at Rodrick in the pictures. He looked so cute today - he had been wearing cut off black jeans, black high-top vans, and a loose button down Hawaiian shirt, half-way unbuttoned to show off his tanned chest and the multiple layers of silver necklaces he was wearing. His nails were painted black, but his eyes were free of makeup, simply accented by his naturally long eye-lashes and the smile-lines around his eyes.

After admiring Rodrick, you turned your gaze to yourself in the pictures. You felt your heart sink into your stomach. When you had left the house this morning, you had felt pretty confident in your outfit - just ripped jean shorts and a crop-top with converse. But as you looked closer, you couldn’t stop thinking about how unsatisfied you felt with the way you looked in the pictures.

As you continued to scroll through, the more faults you found in your appearance. Your thighs being squeezed by your shorts, which didn’t feel too tight but apparently were not as flattering as you thought. In one picture, you were sitting down on a bench, your legs over Rodrick’s lap, but you couldn’t stop staring at the roll of your stomach that came over the waistband of your shorts. You felt tears pricking your eyes, but you stubbornly refused to cry. You spent a long time trying to feel confident in yourself - you weren’t going to let that hard work be ruined by a few unflattering photos.

However, you couldn’t stop thinking about the way your body looked in those pictures. You got up to stand in front of your full length mirror, looking at the reflection critically. You were craning your neck to look at your butt when you heard a soft tap-tap-tap at the window. You jumped about 2 feet in the air before you realized it was just Rodrick, grinning from outside the window and placing a wet kiss on the glass, making you laugh. He made a grossed-out expression when he realized the glass was not as clean as he thought it was, wiping his tongue on the back of his hand.

“I swear to God, you’re like a toddler. Didn’t your mom ever tell you not to lick random surfaces?” you asked as you opened the window to let him in. He folded himself gracefully through the window, all long limbs and messy hair. You felt both comforted and electrified in his presence.

“Since when have I ever listened to any authority figure?” Rodrick asked, grinning wolfishly and leaning down to kiss you softly, juxtaposing his rebellious tone. For someone with such a seemingly hard exterior, Rodrick was always very gentle and sweet with you. It was one of the things you loved most about him - he seemed to hate everyone but you. It made you feel special and appreciated.

As he pulled back from the kiss, he frowned, stroking his thumb over your cheek. “Have you been crying? Your eyes are red,” he said, making a pouty face. You shrugged, turning away and shaking your head.

“No, just allergies probably.”

Rodrick scoffed, “Sure, allergies. You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You refused to look at him, instead going to your record player and flipping through the vinyls you had stacked in a black milk-crate. “I’m not a bad liar,” you said half-heartedly, not really able to come up with any other excuse.

“You totally are, you avoided eye contact and everything. Seriously, what's wrong? Do you not like the bear?” Rodrick asked. You felt his arms wrap around your waist, his chest pressed against your back, his nose tucked into the crook of your neck. You felt yourself smile despite your bad mood.

“No, I love the bear. I named him Sasha Bear-on Cohen. Get it?” you said, turning your head to place a kiss on his cheek.

“Ahh, a-very nice,” Rodrick replied in his best Borat impression. You giggled. He gave you a squeeze, hands warm on your waist, but the sensation made you self-conscious about your body again, and you wiggled away. You couldn’t understand how Rodrick could bear to touch you. You had no idea why he was attracted to you in the first place. It made tears spring to your eyes again, and you sniffled.

“Y/n”, Rodrick said softly, looking genuinely concerned. “I know you. You don’t get sad for no reason - unless you’re on your period, or you start thinking too much about the Mars Curiosity Rover.”

You sighed, but you knew he had a point. It took you a minute to get your thoughts into words before you spoke.

“I just... I know its silly. But those pictures - you look like a Hot Topic wet dream and I look... I don’t know. I just don’t like the way I look. And most of the time I don’t let it bother me - at least, I try - but I hate having my picture taken because whenever I see them, all I can see is the things I hate about myself. So. Yeah.”

You feel the tears making steady rivers down your cheeks, and your voice shakes as you speak. Rodrick listens attentively, sitting on the foot of your bed. He pats the space next to him, and you sit down. His hand rests on your leg - not constraining you or placating you with a hug, just letting you know he’s there.

“Y/n, I don’t know how to tell you this without sounding like a giant cheese-ball, but... holy fuck. You are so beautiful. I - every time I look at you all I can think is goddamn, I can’t believe she’s into a loser like me. And don’t argue, it’s just a fact,” he says quickly as you try to defend him from his own self-deprecation.

“I’m not good with words... I’m more of a man of action, y’know?” he says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. You smack him on the arm, but his silly expression still makes you smile.

“But, I can still tell you - and don’t repeat this to anyone ever because I’ll never live it down - you give me butterflies. Every time. No matter if you’re in pajamas or a ballgown. You make me feel like a stack of pancakes with warm butter and syrup,” he pauses as you laugh, his warm brown eyes gazing into yours. “Just... I don’t even know what I’m saying at this point. You make my bones feel funny. That’s how beautiful you are.”

Rodrick finally wraps his arms around you. You let yourself be folded into the embrace, feeling content and more than a little overwhelmed by his confession.

“Thank you,” you murmur, unable to find any other words at the moment. You want to say all of that back to him, ten-fold. You want to tell him he makes you feel like flashing concert lights and Fourth of July fireworks. But your mouth can’t make the words, so you just wrap your arms around him tighter.

“Do you want me to spend the night?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your temple. You simply nod, already moving up the bed and pulling back the covers as Rodrick goes to turn out the lights.

In the dark of the room, only illuminated by the street-lamp outside your house, Rodrick looks very alien - all long lines and lean angles. It makes your heart-rate kick up again, and you feel a blush form on your cheeks. It’s not as though this is the first time you’ve slept in the same bed, or even been intimate, but this feels... different.

Rodrick tucks himself in next to you on your bed - it’s a queen size, so it fits both of you well enough that you could sleep together not touching if you wanted to. But Rodrick is a big cuddler at heart, even if he would deny it to his grave. He wraps his arms around your waist as you lay your head on his chest, already being lulled to sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You feel like it’s important to tell him before you both lose the tenderness of the moment, so you finally open your mouth to speak.

“I’m so lucky. I know you think you’re... a loser, or whatever but, Rodrick. You aren’t. You are so beyond cool, and brave, and courageous. Thinking about you makes my head spin. And whenever I see you... I’m home.” You trail off, feeling awkward, but Rodrick simply tightens his arms around you, stroking your back with his fingers.

“If I knew we were getting this sentimental I wouldn’t have brought lube... and maybe a few tissues,” he snickers, and you pinch his nipple, causing him to squeal.

“Jerk.”

“Bitch,” he teases back, and you sigh softly, feeling your body and mind relax. You had almost completely forgotten about the pictures - and at this point, you didn’t really care. The pictures didn’t speak. The only voice telling you that you weren’t beautiful was the one inside your head, and it could definitely be a bitch sometimes.

You could’ve imagined it, but as your brain was finally shutting down, you could’ve sworn you heard Rodrick start to sing, “you are my sunshine... my only sunshine...”

“you make me happy... when skies are gray...”

“you’ll never know, dear, how much i love you...”

“please don’t take my sunshine away...”

#devon bostick #rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley fanfiction #rodrick heffley fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #comfort fanfiction #comfort fanfic #hurt fanfiction #hurt fanfic #hurt/comfort fanfic #Diary of a Wimpy Kid

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milkybonya · 3 years

Text

cheer up, buttercup!

order #001: large banana milk tea with pudding and grass jelly for Cha Eunwoo, requested by my lovely @daybreakx !

-> enemies to lovers! & college!Cha Eunwoo x (gn) reader

-> warnings: some angst and food mentions! also drinking/alcohol mentions and everyone is really mean to the reader >:0

-> where Eunwoo is the president of your department and you're the vice president. you work your hardest but always end up second to him.

[a/n]: i'm sorry for the CHAOS that this is and i feel like there is minimal (?) fluff but i hope you enjoYY THIS WAS FUN

You and Eunwoo had major beef. There wasn't even an event that started it all, but Eunwoo treated you with such disrespect from the start. And of course, anyone who disrespected you was on your list of... well, the closest thing to a list of enemies.

The first time you met him was in freshman year at the orientation before classes began. There was a basketball game going on and Eunwoo was playing. You watched from the sidelines in the shade, cheering him on at first because he was playing on behalf of your department.

Then, the ball flew in your direction. Eunwoo had tried to get the ball back for his team, but ended up accidentally throwing it towards you.

Luckily, it fell somewhere to your left, but it gave you such a fright that you stood up and started panting.

A few of the people who were playing rushed over to make sure you were okay, but Eunwoo didn't even throw a look your way.

"You, from our department? Just throw the ball back!" was all he said to you.

It made your blood boil.

Eunwoo was known for being a little blunt anyway, but he definitely went out of his way to grind your gears.

"Where is the president?" the social convenor asked.

You sighed, checking the time and noticing that Eunwoo was fifteen minutes late.

"If I knew where he was... If only I knew," you mumbled.

"Why is Eunwoo even the president, anyway?" another member of the student council asked.

"Because he's hot and cool and everyone likes him!" a girl squealed. You couldn't even remember what her position in the student council was, but judging by her comment, you realized that she must be here just for Eunwoo.

"He's absolutely dumb, does nothing all day yet somehow gets A's! Of course, why wouldn't he be the president?" your tone was dripping with sarcasm and your anger was almost about to overflow.

Until that man walked into the meeting room, at last.

"I'm dumb and do nothing all day? Why, thank you. I'm here, now," Eunwoo declared, strolling towards his seat. He had his black leather jacket slung over a shoulder.

God, I hate my life, you thought to yourself.

"That's what [y/n], said, but I don't think that way!" the girl who squealed earlier spoke.

"Thanks, Stacy."

Eunwoo only flashed her a quick smile before he sat back in his seat.

"So, what are we doing?"

"What do you mean, 'what are we doing'? We have an open house tomorrow and tons of high school students will be checking on our department! You're the president, you were supposed to-"

Eunwoo hushes you by raising up his hand from where it was resting on his thigh.

"It's all good, I've got it sorted."

He slammed down a notebook onto the table.

"I've taken notes on how open houses have been previously organized and have put them all in this book. I highlighted the events that seemed like they had a lot of potential, so look through those and decide on something, alright? I'll be off," Eunwoo explained, standing up.

"Where are you going?" you almost spat out at Eunwoo. He walks in here, makes a fool out of you and then decides to leave?

"To go 'be dumb and do nothing all day'. Isn't that what you said I do?"

He glared at you slightly before leaving the room.

"[y/n], you made Nunu so angry! Nunu, don't be mad, come back!" Stacy screamed, chasing after him.

You sighed, running your fingers through your hair.

"This idiot really thought I wouldn't know about the past open houses..."

You slam down the notebook that you had also brought.

"Damn... so he really just provided us some useless info and left?" the social convenor asks, shaking their head.

"Yeah, pretty much," you say.

So how did you and Eunwoo end up as vice president and president, anyway? Well, these positions were given to the students with the highest grades. Eunwoo had the highest, so he was given the title of president. You were trailing close behind, and were given the title of vice president.

You always told yourself that you should have been the president, and rightfully so! Eunwoo never did anything but play games on his phone, anyway.

When the open house event finally rolled around, you and Eunwoo were supposed to give a speech in a lecture hall to get the day started. It was mostly to welcome the high school students and lift the spirits of everyone there, not too big of a deal!

But still, big enough of a deal that Eunwoo should have shown up.

He didn't. And you were anything but surprised.

Forced to deliver your speech and somehow improvise along the way to make up for Eunwoo's missing presence, you were shocked to find that the audience started clapping right as you finished. It felt as though your hard work had paid off, and you stepped back, smiling at everyone in the crowd.

Until Eunwoo walked up to the mic, flashing a smile of his own and greeting everyone.

Yep, they had all been clapping for him, not for you.

Eunwoo turned and looked at you, mouthing, "did you prepare my script?"

"You were supposed to do that! Do I look like your secretary?"

Eunwoo scowled at you and turned to everyone who was seated. He ended up repeating a bunch of the same things that you had said and received an enthusiastic applause. You sighed from behind the curtains, wondering why Eunwoo always got the credit for all your hard work. It was probably his looks, but still.

Throughout the day, you walked around campus and ensured that everything was running smoothly. Eunwoo was supposed to be doing the same, you hoped, and you asked him this when you ran into him outside of the campus student centre.

"Have you been walking around like you were supposed to?"

"I'll deal with my business on my own," he said, almost scoffing at you. He was standing there scrolling through his phone.

"This isn't 'your business'? We're literally supposed to be working together!"

"Stop nagging me, [y/n]. I don't like it when you do that," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well I don't like you!" you yelled, storming away from him. You felt... very embarrassed. What kind of comeback was that? It sounded like something a child would say... oh, well.

You saw your friend handing out some goodies at a table outside and approached them.

"How's it going, vice president?" they asked you, handing you a snack.

"Terrible," you groaned, opening it and eating some.

"Why, what's up?"

"Cha Eunwoo is being a pain in the butt, as always," you sighed.

"You might want to watch what you say," your friend mumbled, pointing behind you.

You turned around a little too late as the snack in your hands was whisked away by Cha Eunwoo himself.

"You're the only pain in the butt here, [y/n]," he said, eating your snacks.

"What are you doing here?! You should be on the other side of campus!" you yelled.

"And you shouldn't be here, either," Eunwoo said with a glare.

"Can y'all go argue somewhere else? You're scaring the highschoolers away," your friend complained, nodding in the direction of some highschoolers who were hesitant to approach the snack stand because you and Eunwoo were arguing.

"Go attend to your duties, [y/n]," Eunwoo huffed, walking away from you.

You angrily stomped the ground, walking away and feeling a little embarrassed because you could feel the high schoolers watching you.

"[y/n], why won't you learn from Eunwoo a bit? I understand that he's the president and you're only the vice, but you could have at least prepared what we needed you to prepare!" the director of your department told you, shaking her head at you.

You tried to contain yourself and looked down as you rolled your eyes. The only reason Eunwoo was more prepared than you were today was because he had stolen what you prepared and claimed it was his instead.

"I understand, I'm sorry."

"You're at risk of getting your position taken away, [y/n]! This is a warning."

After leaving the director's office, you were met wih a grinning Eunwoo who was sat on the couches in the lobby.

"What are you looking at?" you asked him.

"Thanks for these papers, [y/n]," he said, holding up your hard work.

"I didn't even give them to you. You took them from me, but okay," you said, leaving him there.

You walked to a coffee shop that was on the same floor to get something to refresh yourself. Since it was so early in the morning on a weekend, the building was fairly quiet and empty. It wasn't hard to overhear a conversation.

"Eunwoo, I think [y/n] has not been taking their vice president duties seriously these days. Do you think we should find someone else?"

The director's voice.

"Do the other members of student council agree?"

Eunwoo's voice.

"I haven't spoken to them-"

"Then [y/n] remains as vice. I haven't seen any sort of slacking or a lack of seriousness from them, and I don't think anyone else is fit for the role."

Did Eunwoo just... compliment and defend you?

You turned around with your drink in hand to find that it was indeed Eunwoo talking with your director. Then, you quickly scurried away to avoid being seen by them, feeling very confused.

"Cheers!" everyone shouted around the table, clinking their glasses together before downing their contents. After a successful open house, everyone had gathered at a bar to celebrate. You squirmed in your spot beside Eunwoo, feeling uncomfortable. He rolled his eyes at you and shifted even closer to you, leaving you with less room to sit than before.

"Is that better?" he asked, smirking at you.

You frowned, pressing your foot on top of his clearly new shoes.

"Is that better?" you asked him.

"Why are you guys so close? Are you about to kiss or something?" one of the student council members asked.

"No! Ew-"

"And what if we did?" Eunwoo asked, glaring at the member.

What the hell?

The member looked down at their drink, unsure of what to say. The atmosphere grew awkwardly quiet until someone asked if everyone wanted more drinks, to which there were murmurs of agreement.

"Hey, [y/n], I overheard the director talking with you in her office today. Did she really threaten to kick you out as vice president?" the student council member next to you asked.

You laughed awkwardly, already feeling uncomfortable.

"Yeah... I'm working hard, though! So I'm sure it won't happen."

"Are you sure? You weren't able to prepare what the director asked you to, and there's been countless times where Eunwoo has always had to do things for you..."

You were in such shock. Everyone in student council knew that Eunwoo just acted like he was on top of everything, meanwhile you were doing all the work. Even for his grades, he never studied but was at the top because of all the people who handed him study notes and past tests to get his attention. You worked so hard...

"... I get that you're the vice president, but shouldn't you be trying a little harder? Hey... [y/n]? Are you crying?"

You couldn't help it... it had all been building up until now. You didn't even realize you were crying, though, until this guy pointed it out to you. His hand on your shoulder felt like it was suffocating you...

"What the hell have you been on about, you idiot?" Eunwoo growled from your right. You turned to him and he was glaring at the boy who had been talking to you.

"I-"

"Don't even talk. There's nothing but garbage coming out of your mouth. Come on, [y/n], let's go," Eunwoo said, grabbing your hand and guiding you out of there.

You were extremely confused, but more than anything, you were just sad. So you didn't stop Eunwoo when he led you outside of the bar.

"Is everything okay? Take some deep breaths." Eunwoo was staring right into your eyes as he spoke to you, reaching out his thumb to gently wipe your tears away.

"What's... going on?"

"That idiot was saying some useless garbage so I brought you out here. I can leave if you want to be alone-"

"No! No, please don't go," you begged, holding on tightly to his sleeve. You couldn't help it, you completely broke down and found yourself sobbing into his chest. What was weirder was that Eunwoo had his arms wrapped around you and was rubbing your back...

After you calmed done, Eunwoo insisted that he walk you back to your dorm.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" you asked him, sniffling quietly.

He threw his hands in his pockets and stared at the ground.

"I don't like it when people are mean to you, [y/n]," he said quietly.

"But you're mean to me all the time!" you pointed out.

"You're the one who started being mean to me!" Eunwoo whined.

You stopped walking.

"I started being mean to you? Eunwoo, you know you're the one who threw a basketball at me that day and never apologized, right?"

Eunwoo stared at the dark sky for a moment as he tried to remember what you were talking about. Then his eyes widened and he looked at you.

"Oh... I swear, there's an explanation-"

"There better be!"

"This is going to sound dumb but... I felt too shy to look at you... which is why I avoided you like that."

What? Eunwoo, the most cocky and arrogant president you know, was shy?

"Why in the world were you shy, Eunwoo?"

It wasn't just the slight breeze in the air that was turning his cheeks red, now. He was about to tell you something important.

"Ever since the first day at the orientation week... I thought you were really... attractive. And then, learning about you through all the icebreakers just made things worse. I don't really know how to handle my feelings, so maybe that's why I came across as so rude."

There was silence as you processed everything and starting walking to your dorm again.

"Eunwoo... if you had just cleared this all up a little sooner, we wouldn't have been like cats and dogs," you said, laughing nervously and touching the back of your neck.

"I know, I'm sorry."

"Do you still... like me?" you asked him quietly.

Eunwoo paused before answering. "I don't think I could ever just stop liking you."

Both of you giggled at his cheesy words. You felt like you were on another planet. The boy you'd hated so much turned out to have a crush on you?

"You don't need to tell me how you feel anytime soon. I know there's been a lot of misunderstandings... so let's just clear those up first?" Eunwoo cocked his head to one side.

"If you get to my dorm faster than me, I'll consider it!" you yelled before running in the direction of your residence building.

"I don't even know where you live!" Eunwoo yelled after you, following you along.

"What kind of president are you? You don't even know where your vice president lives?" you yelled back, sticking your tongue out at him.

Suddenly, Eunwoo caught up to you and started racing ahead. Of course he knew where you lived. He liked you.

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