#nah you got a minute left on shift take that 2 hour call see you tomorrow for another one where this could happen again

[lilgynt]

i hate u work i hate u understaffing i hate u capitalism ❤️

[kayawolfhorse]

Day 2 — On the Edge of a Knife

—☾—

Etho idly paces around the froglight shop’s lobby; the day as sweet and slow as molasses as each hour trudges by in an uninspired march.

There’s plenty he could be doing, sure—the shop’s exterior is begging to be built, though the glory in an inside-out base is that the outside is merely a suggestion.

He could rework Ravager Rush’s wiring to accommodate four-digit scores, or he could build the farm that’s been itching at the back of his mind ever since he finished the game. He could even work on his base to appease the endless teasing over his (perfectly adequate) roof.

His mind churns with ideas but his motivation to act upon any of them lulls. He counts the lily pads as he steps over them and fidgets with a zipper on his vest.

Eventually, after a tick or a minute or a day, the unmistakable sound of someone taking a landing too steep against the grass outside cuts through the silence.

“Etho! Etho-ooooo!” Gem’s voice, even less mistakable than the tumble Etho assumes she took, rings out.

“In here,” Etho says, and Gem meets him at the top step of the right wing. Her hair is messy around the edges of her bandanna, and there are fresh grass stains on her knees, almost invisible against the dark fabric.

“Etho! Wonderful, yes,” Gem says, with an odd expression that smooths itself away almost immediately. “Are you busy?”

“Nah, did you need something?” he asks, scuffing his sandal against the copper stair.

“Up for some sparring?”

Usually, they spar in the evenings, swords glinting in the reflected sunset until the bugs that gather around the edges of Gem’s river become unbearable.

Etho considers his productive day leading up to this point. “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

—☾—

Gem dumps Etho’s sword into his outstretched arms after he respawns for the third time with a grin that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Five hearts,” she informs him, and Etho groans.

“You’re too fast! It’s hard to get hits on you,” Etho complains, but beneath his mask, he’s smiling too.

“Looks like you’ll just have to try harder,” Gem says, before widening her stance and steadying her blade. Etho mirrors her, and a slight shift of Gem’s boot against the sandstone of the beach is the only warning Etho gets before she’s racing up on the offense.

Etho parries her first blow; her second. Her third swing slices through the fabric of Etho’s left sleeve, and the gash stings, but not enough to stop him from lunging forward, closing the opening Gem leaves by lifting her arms too high and catching her in the side.

Gem grunts, but leverages ahead, pushing into Etho’s space in a furious whirl of movement that has Etho stumbling back a step. He snakes in more hits than he had in their previous round, but has no time or space to get in crits; most of his efforts are concentrated in avoiding Gem’s blade.

It’s over in a second. Etho’s vision goes black, and then he’s sitting up in the respawn bed nestled within a faux-shipwreck.

“Again?” Gem asks when Etho’s sword is back in hands.

Etho shrugs. “Sure.”

Gem’s fighting style is quick, cutting, and brutal; her movements leave no room for hesitation and her strikes land true a considerable amount of the time. Despite that, she maintains a fluidity that twines through her limbs like how waves break apart the sea’s surface, and she’s smooth as she transitions from one move to the next.

Tension strings across her frame now, in the tilt to her shoulders and line of her mouth and too-tight grip on her sword. Her swings are sloppier than usual and she brings them down harshly, almost desperately.

Sweat beads on Etho’s brow; he can see how it similarly runs down Gem’s face. An aching tiredness seeps into his limbs, but he’s not about to call it quits; Gem needs the company at least.

In a twist of sheer luck, Etho gains the upper hand, and he uses it to crit, before slashing again and driving Gem back. In a flash, she’s pushing ahead and twisting to the side with the ferocity of a cornered animal, and the set of teeth she bares is the edge of her blade suddenly pressed against Etho’s throat.

They both freeze. Gem’s hardly one for headshots.

The cool press of metal is gone before Etho has the chance to speak against it. Gem sheaths it at her side, looking troubled.

“You okay?” Etho asks, putting away his own sword.

“Yeah, I’m just… suddenly really tired,” Gem says, and her voice is pinched in all of the wrong places. “Thanks for sparring with me.”

Etho waits a couple ticks to see if she’ll continue. He wonders if he should press further, but she doesn’t look like she wants to talk. Gem turns to collect her stuff.

“It was a good session,” he says.

Gem tugs on her armor and equips her elytra. She offers him a tight-lipped smile before taking off.

He touches a hand to his neck. The blood there has already started to crust. Etho stands alone on the beach and watches Gem’s figure disappear over the horizon.

[duckduckhjonk]

Duck's Rendition of Muppets Mayhem Season 2 Track 1.

hi ho muppetblr, I'm posting this now so I don't overthink it tonight.

Word Count; 2711

Please note; this entire thing is going to be extremely self indulgent, not in a shippy way, just, me taking headcanons i have about the characters and running far with them. This is also not beta read. I got too silly and posted it without anyone beta reading it. With that being said; Enjoy!

The bus was a complete bust. As hard as any of the band tried, it would not start back up. All it would do was sputter pathetically and spew smoke. As the Electric Mayhem all took turns looking pathetically at the now exposed engine, Nora got immediately to work calling a mechanic. After the call had been placed, she quickly turned around and approached the band.

“I just got done calling a mechanic, they should be here soon,” She announced happily.

The band cheered in delight at this information. Before long, they ended up back inside while waiting for the mechanic to arrive. While the Mayhem gathered around the table, Nora and Moog took a moment in a separate room to discuss a few things.

“Do we have any idea of where to go first?” Nora asked.

“Nah, the band usually just goes wherever the road takes them,” Moog explained, “They talk to the venue day of usually.”

Nora took a deep breath, still obviously getting used to the Electric Mayhem’s strange ways of doing what they do. Moog noticed this and quickly tried shifting topics.

“Uh, how long until the mechanic gets here?” He asked.

Nora checked on her phone for a moment before replying, “They’re about… five minutes away?”

“Awesome,” Moog answered awkwardly.

The air around them became rather awkward. That was until Nora noticed on the other side of the room, a polaroid camera sitting alone and unaccompanied. She walked over and picked it up.

“This is Zoot’s camera…” She said quietly, “I don’t think he remembers he doesn’t have it.”

Nora swiftly rushed out of the room, Moog quickly followed behind her. She headed into the main room where the band was set up in a circle, Dr. Teeth passing out cards. Nora pulled up a seat next to the saxophonist and handed him the camera.

“You seem to have misplaced this,” She said as she did so.

“My camera. Man, where did I leave it?” Zoot exclaimed, visibly excited to see his camera again. Almost immediately he snapped a picture of Nora, the flash leaving her stunned for a second.

“You, uh, left it here when everyone went off on their own to do solo projects,” Nora explained, trying to wipe the remnants of the flash from her eyes.

“We split up? When?” Zoot asked, now much more distressed.

“Well, it doesn’t matter now, because we’re back and better than ever,” Dr. Teeth interjected, throwing Zoot another card.

“What’re you even playing?” Nora asked as she watched Zoot sort the cards in his hand very poorly.

“A very ancient game about sorting cards into the most pairs and going fishing,” Dr. Teeth explained. Go fish. It was quite literally go fish.

Nora blinked for a moment, before being interrupted by the sound of a knock on the shack’s door. She quickly got up to answer it. On the other side was a very tired looking and rather gruff lady. She explained she was the mechanic and was here to fix the bus.

“Oh, terrific, it's right this way.” Nora led the mechanic to the bus.

The mechanic immediately got to inspecting it. She seemed quite shocked with the issues with it. The gruff mechanic began asking a few questions about the bus. Nora explained how it used to travel a lot but had been sitting in the garage for quite some time. This caused the mechanic to sigh.

“Look, It’ll take a bit,” She explained to Nora, “Are you willing to wait maybe about a few hours?”

“Yeah, take as much time as you need,” Nora reassured.

“Good, I’m gonna need it,” The mechanic grumbled.

~

Meanwhile, back inside the shack, the band was deep into an oddly heated game of go fish. Nora stood next to Moog and watched the chaos of it unfold.

“Hey, uh, Janice,” Floyd started, sounding desperate and tired, “Do you have any sevens?”

“Ooh, as much as it pains me to say this, I, like, don’t have any sevens,” Janice responded, unphased by Floyd’s desperation, “Go fish.”

Floyd let out a loud ‘nooo’ as he reached for the pile. He put the card into his ever expanding hand of cards. Notably his hand was much larger than the rest of the band’s. That mixed with the lack of matches near him made him a guaranteed loser of this intense game.

“Lips, do you, like, have any kings?” Janice asked.

Lips merely nodded and handed Janice a card. She took that card and matched it with a different one in her hand of just three cards, now leaving her with two.

“Zoot, dyou hav annines?” Lips asked in his typical mumbly fashion.

Zoot, who must have been asleep, shook himself awake before frantically looking through his cards. “Uh, go fish.”

Lips grumbled as he grabbed a card from the pile. After a few seconds of silence, it had seemed Zoot was once again asleep, having forgotten to ask anyone for a card. Eventually the game faded from their focus, now the band idly reminisced about their older days.

Soon, a thump on the door stirred everyone out of an evening daze. Nora got up and answered it. The gruff mechanic was on the other side.

“Bus is fixed,” She said in a monotone and tired voice.

“Cool, uh,” Nora said, “How much is all of that going to cost?”

“Oh, this is on the house,” the mechanic replied, her voice sounding a little warmer than before, “Just as a favour for my old teacher. Yeah, Lips taught me how to repair old vehicles. I owe him one.”

Nora was quite unsure how to respond. Before she could, though, the mechanic had quickly left. Nora closed the door and rejoined the band.

“We’re good to go!” She announced. The band cheered and all rushed out of their seats and out of the door.

Nora took a slower pace as she met with Moog. The two walked beside each other before stopping between the old bus and Moog’s truck.

“Are you joining us on the bus, or-” Nora began, her voice trailing off.

“Someone’s gotta bring the equipment,” Moog answered, before beginning to climb into the truck, “If you want you can join me?”

Nora paused, debating whether or not to take the offer. A loud thud from the bus prompted Nora to make her choice. Soon both vehicles left.

~

The bus travelled for a while before needing to stop at a gas station to refuel. As it pulled into the gas pump area, plans were immediately made as Dr. Teeth handed Floyd a wallet.

“You pay, I pump,” He offered.

“Works for me,” Floyd replied, “Any snack request?”

“How about one of them crunchy granola bars?” Dr. Teeth asked.

“Gotcha. How about Zoot? Any requests?” Floyd turned towards the back of the bus.

“Huh? Oh,” Zoot mumbled, “Bag of chips.”

“Right on, we’ll be right back.” With that, the fluffy bassman exited the bus, followed by the other members of the Mayhem sans Zoot and Teeth.

The inside of the gas station’s shop was easily described in two words: run down. Despite the grime, ripped up tiles, and obviously dangerous demeanour, the band remained cheerful as they entered. Nora and Moog remained close by.

Almost immediately, the Mayhem had filled a shopping basket with various snacks. The four muppets stood at the front of an isle and went over what all they had picked out.

“We got chips for Zoot,” Floyd began, “Funyuns for Animal-”

“FUNYUNS! FUNYUNS!!” Animal shouted, bouncing up and down.

“Pretzel sticks for Lips,” Floyd continued, unphased by Animal’s shouting, “Veggie straws for Janice, granola bars for Teeth, and Cheez-Its for me.”

Once everything was listed off, the band stopped crouching around the basket.

“You two want anything?” Floyd asked, looking at Nora and Moog with a blink.

“Oh, uh,” Moog started awkwardly, “I’m fine, I brought my own snacks in my truck.”

Floyd turned to face Nora with the same question. “Maybe just some gum?” Nora requested.

Floyd nodded, “Any specific brand?”

Nora shook her head, “No, just, uh, mint flavouring, though.”

“Got it,” Floyd replied, wandering into the candy aisle and putting several different brands of mint flavoured gum into the basket. Quickly, the orange haired muppet got distracted and put several other different candies in the basket as well.

Upon reaching the checkout, Floyd began handing the cashier the various treats he had gotten for the band. The cashier appeared increasingly annoyed as he scanned each item.

“Will that be all?” The cashier asked, once he finished scanning.

Floyd handed him a few $20 bills, “Can you put this on the pump with the bus? We got a long road trip ahead of us.”

~

As the members of the Mayhem exited the gas station, they arrived back at the bus to see Dr. Teeth having some kind of conversation over the phone as he pumped gas into the bus.

“I’m telling you, Twinkles, we haven’t even left the state yet, and you’re already trying to start this,” Dr. Teeth said into the phone.

Dr. Teeth visibly winced as the person on the other end, Penny, screamed at him over the phone.

“What is going on with them?” Nora asked with concern.

“Every time Penny and Teeth get back together Penny always starts some kinda lasting drama that she’ll scream for days on end to him about,” Floyd explained, “That's why they’ve broken up at least six times.”

“It’ll all, like, blow over and they’ll break up again,” Janice chimed in, “It all repeats every time they, like, meet.” Despite her usual cheery tone, Janice sounded disappointed about the whole thing.

The band boarded the bus once more and waited a little bit for their keyboard player to get off the phone and rejoin them. After a few more moments of yelling, it all went quiet as Penny had promptly hung up the phone. Dr. Teeth nodded solemnly before rejoining the rest of The Electric Mayhem.

“You alright?” Floyd asked in a respectful tone.

The doctor nodded, “Yeah…” without another word the bus was started up and began to drive away.

~

The band had been driving for a long while. By now the snacks had all been finished, stories had been shared, and chaos ensued. Nora was exhausted by all of this.

“Do you guys even know what venue you’re playing?” She asked.

Dr. Teeth nodded, “We’re here.”

The bus had been parked at a rather large venue. The band all piled out and began spreading out. Nora was last off. Needless to say she was quite confused by all the happenings. Lips communicated with some of the staff, Floyd had Animal by his leash and was being dragged around in an effort to get some energy out of Animal. Janice and Zoot were helping Moog unload equipment, and Dr. Teeth stood next to Nora with a proud expression on his face.

“How do you-” Nora asked, but was quickly cut off by the doctor.

“Just the mellodific magic of the Mayhem,” he answered.

“Weot a gig fo toniht aseen!” Lips called to the rest of the band.

“Well alright!” Dr. Teeth cheered as he hurried to help the rest of the band set up the equipment.

Nora approached Moog, “Now I know why you followed them for so long…” She said exhaustedly.

“They’re really something, huh,” Moog replied.

“Truly… something…” A third voice came, causing both Nora and Moog to flinch.

The voice belonged to a man in a blindingly white suit accompanied by a red tie. His expression was a mix of smug and disgusted and his stance provided an air of superiority to him.

“Who’re you?” Nora asked defensively.

The man chuckled and handed her a business card as white as his suit. “I am Seymour, a representative of Music United. I’ve come to make a deal with you.”

“What… kind of deal?” Nora asked, clearly suspicious of him.

“I propose we give you a large sum of money, and we get the rights to the band,” He offered smugly.

Nora and Moog exchanged equally angered looks. As if to say to each other ‘what kind of gaul does this man have to try that?’

“Yeah, no. Not happening,” Nora answered, quickly attempting to shoo him away.

“How much would change your mind?” Seymour asked.

“None. Now leave,” Nora said rather upsettedly.

“But! Don’t you even care about their futures? Shouldn’t you ask the band first!?” Seymour attempted to argue.

“Yeah, I think the band would agree about not wanting to be sold like property,” Moog chimed in.

Seymour huffed as he nearly tripped on his way out of the parking lot.

“That guy does not seem like a cool cat,” Floyd said from behind Nora and Moog.

“Ooh, his aura was, like, totally sinister,” Janice shivered, “Like a mouldy green bean…”

“You said it,” Nora replied, “But something tells me he’ll be back.”

~

Inside the venue, everything had been set up rather quickly. Kind staff showed Moog to the audio board, and he began doing sound checks with the band.

“Alright, Teeth, you’re up first,” Moog began.

“Well alright.” Dr. Teeth began pressing keys on his keyboard, a snippet of one of their songs.

“Excellent…” Moog said as he adjusted a few things on the board, “Floyd?”

“You got it.” Floyd joined in with the same song and hummed a few lyrics to it.

“Allright, Janice, your turn.”

“Fer sure,” Janice answered as she started strumming. The band was slowly but surely building up.

Moog pointed towards Animal, gesturing for him to start playing. Animal gladly obliged and started slamming the drums. As he did so he growled and shouted at the top of his lungs, enthralled in his own drumming madness.

“Yeah!” Moog shouted, clearly getting into it, “How about some sax?”

“You got it, Mort,” Zoot said before starting to play.

Moog adjusted a few more things on the board while bobbing his head, “Get in there, Lips!”

Lips nodded and joined in. The band revelled in their own jubilee despite the lack of an audience. Although it was quite short lived as the song ended rather quickly. The Mayhem cheered once it finished.

“Awesome! You guys sound great!” Moog shouted.

~

The concert was full of bright lights and life. Despite the short notice, the venue was almost entirely sold out within moments. The Electric Mayhem truly lived up to their name.

Their set list had contained plenty of their album songs, but also contained on the spot covers, each eliciting a roar of cheers from the audience.

But alas, just as quickly as the night began, the concert came to an end. The crowd dispersed and the band celebrated their concert within the greenroom.

“Terrific job out there tonight!” Nora cheered.

“Why thank you,” Dr. Teeth replied, “I think the first night of our most immacurific tour has been quite the success.”

Nora nodded, “Any idea what kind of hotel you want to stay in?” She asked the band.

“Hotel?” Floyd interjected before anyone else could answer, “No way, we sleep on the road!”

Nora felt unsure about this, “Are you sure? I don’t think it's smart to be driving all night like that…”

“Ooh, we, like, don’t drive all night, that’d totally just make us, like, so tired,” Janice explained, “We’re usually, like, parked overnight and totally sleep all together in a big pile! Fer sure!”

~

The band started unloading everything into the truck. Everyone except Lips, who was frozen in horror at the sight of the amount of trash leftover by the fans. As far back as he remembered, everyone threw away their trash on the way out. What had changed?

“Lips? You alright, buddy?” Nora asked, tapping him on the shoulder.

“I donet it,” Lips started, “ereon usto take alleir rashithem, noeave iall oer thround. I’sad fo thnvironment…”

Nora paused. She never really thought about that. Venues usually always had large trash cans. Why would people still leave their trash everywhere? But before she could reply, Lips had vanished into the seats of the venue and was already picking up trash with the rest of the staff.

Something told Nora this was going to be a long tour.

[forever-rogue]

Douse the Lights

A/N: I have no excuse for this, except I love one (1) Din Djarin and he deserves this and so do we. Enjoy! A little Happy New Year gift from me to you! As always, comments and feedback are welcomed! xx

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only) - oral (m and f receiving), unprotected PiV, choking, degradation, creampie...filth. This is just filth. 

STUTTER SOMETHING PROFOUND (PART 2)

THE MANDALORIAN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

»»���———-　♡　————-««

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Then stop kriffing staring at me.”

“I wasn’t even looking in your direction.”

“You,” with a sharp turn of your head you saw that he wasn’t even near you. Nope. Not at all. 

Kriff. Awkward.

“Lothcat got your tongue, Princess?” you’d never seen his face, but Maker, you just knew there was a wicked smirk on it.

“Just mind your own business,” stowing away your clean blasters with a huff, you prayed with all your might that he couldn’t see the flush of warmth on your face or hear the crack in your voice. You hated him. Everything about him.

At least you wanted to; you would have given anything in the galaxy to. It would make constantly being around the Mandalorian that you called your employer a lot easier. 

Maybe if you kept repeating it yourself, you would manifest it to become true. That you could hate that annoying, half-witted, tin can. 

“Thought that’s what I was doing,” there was the most minute inkling of amusement in his voice as he came over, lithe and silent - ever the hunter. He was at your side in an instant, the warmth of his body contrasting sharply with the cool metal of the beskar as he sent shivers up and down your spine. Along with the low pooling of heat and desire settling in your belly, but you were going to ignore that for now.

Almost as if he knew the effect he had on you, he made it a point to brush a gloved hand over yours as he nudged you to the side to inspect some of the weapons he’d tasked you with cleaning. You had to be quick in order to shut your mouth and keep a small whimper from escaping your lips. 

How long had it been since someone last touched you? Maker, it had been….dank farrik. It had been way too long. A simple hand brush - there wasn’t even skin to skin contact - and you felt like a lothcat in heat. You really needed to get...some company and have your frustrations taken out or surely you would explode. There was no way you were to give Mando the satisfaction of knowing the type of hold he seemed to possess over you. 

Perhaps once you were out of this more than awkward conversation you could slip out for a few hours and seek some pleasure. The little one had just gone down for a nap a short bit ago, and he was likely to be out for some time. Surely he wouldn’t have a problem for a few hours. Then you could -

“These are still dirty,” was his voice always that rough and low? He had to be doing it on purpose, surely. Before you could contemplate it too much, he took one of the blasters and shoved it back into your hands. Not rough or gentle, but with enough firmness to remind that he was in charge. You looked it over and raised your eyebrows as you inspected it yourself - it was polished to an almost pristine shine, “clean them again. All of them.”

“What the fuck, Mando,” you scoffed with indignation as you rolled your eyes at him, shoving the blaster right into of the black T of his visor. You waved it almost as if to prove your point, “this is clean. I dare you to find a cleaner blaster in this Maker forsaken galaxy.”

He was quick to your grab your wrist, his grip was firm as he kept your hand from moving. You didn’t normally argue with your stoic and mysterious employer, but this was apparently new and uncharted territory. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but there was a shift between the two of you, something had changed. The tension in the air was palpable, so thick you could cut it with the dullest of knives as you stared back at him. 

“Clean it again,” it was a growl that went straight to your cunt as you subconsciously clenched your thighs at the sound. Either this was a one time deal that you would commit to memory or you were going to make it a point to annoy him more often. As he stared you down, he slowly let go of your wrist and pointed at the discarded cleaning rag, “and make sure its actually clean this time.”

“You are the worst,” you tried to retain the little bit of composure that you had remaining as you swiped the blaster back.

“And you are a brat,” brat. Brat. Brat. Brat. Of all the words available in all of the galaxy, he had to choose that one. This was absolutely on purpose. The Mandalorian never did anything without careful planning and calculating the risks. The same could be said with his words; this was all carefully and deliberately chosen. He cocked his head to the side, almost as if trying to gauge your reaction, “but here we are. Get them clean.”

“Or what?” it was a mere pathetic squeak as found yourself almost unable to meet his face.

“Just get it done.”

Without another word he strode away, as silent and dangerous as he was when he first came in. If you were stronger, if you weren’t a weak little fool, you would have looked away and focused on your work. 

But no. Not today.

Instead you watched him go, staring shamelessly at his imposing figure as he moved to disappear back into the cockpit to do whatever it was that he did. 

Was his ass always that nice? Were those thighs always so strong and sturdy? Was he always so damn broad and wide? 

Shit. 

“Get your mind out of the gutter,” you hissed at yourself as you picked the rag back up and slammed yourself back down on the bench in order to re-clean all the weapons that you had just done. He wanted clean weapons? You’d give him the cleanest blasters he’d ever seen. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

Almost an hour had crept by when you’d finished your second round of cleaning. At this point you honestly didn’t care if the Mandalorian deemed the job satisfactory or not. The longer you had ruminated on his words, the more frustrated you became. 

Each word, each touch seemed burned into your mind as you let your imagination take over. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought about him before. There had been a number of sleepless nights when you imagined it had been his hand between your thighs, his fingers running through your slick folds before they slipped inside of you. On nights when you really couldn't help yourself, you even imagined it was his cock, how he would feel buried to the hilt inside of you. You wondered what he would be like, but something - this day in particular - told that he was big. And he would get the job done.

But it wasn’t going to happen. 

Nope. No. Nah. You were just his sidekick little employee that most definitely was not going to act on any impulsive or rash decisions. You might have been a lot of things, including a huge fool in that moment, but you weren’t that stupid. You didn’t need to create some unnecessary strain in your relationship with the stoic warrior or even worse, lose your job and home and be left stranded in a forgotten corner of the galaxy. 

Even as you tried to rationalize all the ways in which acting on your impulses was a horrible idea, the frustration and the throbbing between your legs didn't wane. You were getting so desperate and pathetically needy that you sat on the edge of your small bench just at the angle so you could get a little bit of friction on your clit. Pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

As you rocked back and forth, trying to keep the little mewls and whines from slipping past your lips, you realized you couldn't do this.

You couldn't risk getting caught by the Mandalorian. Oh yes, everything's fine, just getting myself off. Don't worry, I'm super horny because of you. Yeah of course I'd love your cock.

Yeah. Cool, cool, cool. This would never happen. 

Just when you before you reached your breaking point and had your hands halfway to your soaked core, you stopped. 

"Kriff," you sighed to yourself as you pulled your hand back out and stood up. What the actual fuck had gotten into you? A few commanding words you were completely losing your control. Either you were desperate for a release from something other than your own hand or you craved the mysterious Mandalorian. 

Hastily stashing the impeccably clean blasters back into the weapons cache, you discarded the rag as you quickly came up with a plan. 

Tiptoeing quietly back to where the little one was sleeping, you sneaked a peek and saw that he was still fast asleep. He wouldn't even notice you were gone - that's what you tried to convince yourself as you delicately touched his soft ears and button nose. 

You weren't sure if you were speaking of the Mandalorian or the baby. At this point you really didn't care. 

You glanced back at the ladder towards the cockpit, watching almost as if you expected him to come down and catch you sneaking out. Hells, technically he'd know as soon as you left the ship. You scrawled a quick note telling him that you needed a cleaner or something, in your haste you couldn't even remember what you put, and would need to go to the market.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. That was totally plausible, you insisted to calm your own nerves as you slipped on your boots and a cloak before making your final decision to leave. Attempting to be as quiet and subtle as possible, you slowly made your way off the Crest and started scurrying towards the nearby desolate town of Mos Eisley. In reality you looked more like a scrap rat scurrying away from the light than a woman heading into town to find something. 

Whatever.

Mos Eisley wasn’t exactly known for its sparkling reputation, and you were sure you could get exactly what you wanted quickly enough. In and out, you thought to yourself as a flush rose in your check, well precisely that. For at least you were hoping. 

But the Mandalorian, a seasoned hunter with a reputation for a reason, and didn’t miss a single trick. He was aware of what you were doing before you even left the cargo hold. If he was this frustrated and turned on you by you, his cock hard and straining against the confines of his pants, he was sure you must have been in the same position. 

Oh, but he had been close to breaking, just like you. How easy it would have been to seal the hatch to the cockpit and relieve himself of the desire and ache. But no - just like you he had limits and wasn’t about to give in and stroke his hard cock while you were within earshot. No matter times he had imagined it - fucking your mouth or burying himself deep between your luscious heat before pounding you into oblivion, he wasn’t going to give in this easily. 

He wasn’t a virgin by any means, but with your little backtalk and the way you had looked at him with those wide doe eyes and pretty pouted lips sure had him feeling like one. The thought of burying himself inside you, to watch as you bounced on his cock with your tits in his face was enough to make up his mind. 

One time couldn’t hurt, right? People had casual encounters all the time.Why should this one be any different? If you were willing of course, although judging by how your pupils had dilated with each word from his mouth, had little doubt you felt the same way; but consent of course was key. 

And tomorrow? You’d be back to being the same way you had always been.

Hopefully. Maybe. Probably.

Fuck.

This was a bad idea, and the small, sensible part remaining in his brain told him so. But he was too far in, too deep and lost in his own desires to stop himself. 

He was watched as you ran away, deciding to wait until you were halfway to Mos Eisley before going after you. He’d take the kid to Pelli, sure she’d more than happy to watch him for the night. The rest? That was to be all consumed by you. 

»»————-　♡　————-««

The old cantina was dirty, dingy, and smelly. There was no doubt in your mind it must have been at least a decade since it was cleaned, and yet it still remained a hot spot; granted not for those of politer society, but enough to get the job down.  You pushed that to the back of your mind as you clambered through the crowd and to the bar, sitting down next to a handsome Zabrak you had spied when you’d walked in. You’d never been with one his kind before, but you’d heard rumors of them, especially when it came to their prowess behind closed doors, and something within you was piqued. 

He must have sensed something was up - as soon as you sat down, he motioned for the bartender to come back and bring the two of you a new round. 

“You’re new here,” he said gruffly, a dangerous edge to his voice, sharp like a knife as he took one of the luminescent drinks and shoved the other towards you.

Before you could even move to grab your drink or utter so much as a word in response, a hand darted and quickly grabbed your wrist, the grip biting and firm. 

“She’s mine,” the words washed over you before you could even turn to look at the Mandalorian. His chest was rising and falling heavy as his visor was trained on your would be companion for the night. A shudder ran up your spine as he pulled you off the stool, the two men glaring at each wordlessly. 

He pulled you behind him, storming out of the cantina as the crowds parted at the sight of the gleaming silver beskar. They knew better than to stand in the way of the Mandalorian. You felt like a child being scolded as he refused to acknowledge you, keeping his gaze trained straight as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. 

“What the hell, Mando?” your question was an indignant shout as your voice climbed an octave. His grip didn’t waver for a moment as he grunted in his response. Oh, he was mad. Yup. Definitely. You had fucked up. 

Any thought of talking back or prodding him further were estopped as you could see him fuming as he dragged your ass back to the Crest. 

This was it, you realized. This was the end where he would fire you and send you packing. Of all the places in the galaxy to be stranded, Tatooine was not one of your top destinations. No one to blame but yourself, you reckoned. 

Instead you hung your head as he refused to look back, making quick work of opening the cargo hold and shoving you inside. There was something about his touch that was rough, almost sending you falling to your ass, but there was still an odd gentleness.

You stared back at the blank visor in challenge, attempting to figure out what was going on. His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he stared back at you. Neither of you were about to get a good read on each other. 

“Did you really think it was a good idea to just walk away without saying anything?” his voice was dangerously low as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at you. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as you tried to come up with either a smart response or an excuse but instead of anything coherent, it was a mixture of the two. Great. Now he's going to think you were an idiot on top of everything else. 

“I didn’t...just um...doesn’t matter what you...I needed something from the market?” you swallowed the lump on your throat as you dropped your gaze to the floor. He sighed for a moment - heavily - as you’d come to know was his penchant to do. 

“You needed something from the market?” it wasn’t a question so much as an accusation.

“Mhmm.”

“What was it?”

“C-cleaner,” you lied. Somehow it sounded better than saying yeah, I really just wanted a quick fuck because you have me feeling some type of way. 

“There's a new cleaner right in the cabinet,” he said as you internally groaned. He was right - there was a brand new gleaming bottle on the top shelf. He’d gotten some last week, “or did you conveniently forget that?”

“Umm,” you couldn’t get anything else out as he took a step closer and left minimal distance between your bodies. He reached up and put a hand under your chin, turning your face up to meet his, “uh huh.”

“Uh huh, honey,” his voice warmed you up from inside out as you gave him an innocent look. If he hadn’t known what he was doing earlier, he certainly did now. And he was going to milk every second of it, to push this as far as it would go. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, a subconscious gesture, but not unnoticed by the Mandalorian. His hand slipped from your chin and jaw and slid until he was gently holding your throat. His grip was light, and he was barely squeezing, but Maker, you wished he was, “is that really what you were going to do?”

“Y-yeah,” how much longer were you going to keep up this little facade? You had no clue. But the feel of his hand around your airway, pushing slightly, ever so slightly, had your mind positively reeling.

“Then why did you go to that filthy old cantina?” he leaned closer, his helmet mere inches from your face as you closed your eyes, the blood rushing to your ears as you the heat pooled in your belly, “why were you talking to Zabrak? Did you really think he was going to fuck you? To make you feel good?”

“Mhmm,” you managed to murmur after a few beats of silence as you realized what was happening. This was new, uncharted territory - for the both of you - and if you went any further, there would be no going back. And you - fuck it. Your eyes snapped open as you turned to look into the visor, right where his eyes would be, “needed someone to do it, since you never would.” 

And there it was - finally out in the open and hanging thickly between the two of you. All you could ever was a small huff from under the helmet and you were positive he was smirking like a victorious predator.

“Is that what you want, honey?” he asked and you nodded. Give and take and then...it all broke, “get on your knees. Now.”

And you wasted no time sinking onto the cool metal floor, now level with his cock, where you could see the hardness straining against his rough fabric. Shaky fingers worked to hastily pop the button and pull the zipper, but just before you could get to what you wanted, Din roughly grabbed jaw, turning your face up to his, “you take what I give. Yeah?”

“Yes,” you promised, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter with each word. But then, with another gentle tap to your chin, he seemed almost...gentle, “Mando?”

“If you don’t want this, just say stop,” he waited for you to nod as you a sense of warmth fluttered over you at his desire for consent, “I will not be gentle, I will not-”

“Give it to me then,” you beamed at him before turning back to his cock and pulling out of his underwear. You almost moaned at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking already; and just as your little fantasies had led you to believe, he was more than adequate. 

Spitting into your palm, you took him in your hand, pumping him a few times before licking the head, just small light licks, just enough to tease. Licking a stripe up his shaft, you played with his balls for a moment, earning what you were sure was a small groan from under the helmet. Making it a point to draw it out, you shouldn’t have been surprised when his hand went to the back of your head as he pushed you onto his cock. 

A sound of surprise was muffled by his cock as you took all of him into your mouth, doing your best not to gag as he hit the back of your throat and your nose brushed against the soft curls of hair at his base. Your hands slid up his thighs and found purchase on his hips as he began to fuck your mouth. He started slowly at first, almost as if he was afraid to give too much. When you grew accustomed to him, making it a point to hollow your cheeks and suck him as best as you could, he picked up the pace. And it was brutal in all the best ways, spit was starting to run down your chin along with a few tears that had spilled over, but if nothing else, it worked to spur him on. 

“Look at you,” he grunted between thrusts as he took in the sight in front of him, “take me so well. Knew your big mouth had to be good for something. Always wanted to fuck that pretty face.”

You hummed in delight as you raked your nails over the exposed slivers of his skin on his hips, golden and delicious and you wanted it all. His thrusts slowly become more erratic and sloppy as he twitched in your mouth. His hand dropped from the back of your head as you took over and put a hand back on his shaft as you worked to finish him off. 

Soon enough he did, followed by an almost primal growl as he came, his hot, thick, cum coating your mouth and you eagerly swallowed all that he offered, which unsurprisingly, was a lot. As his breathing slowed down and he slowly came down from the rush of his high, you pulled back from him, looking up at him with innocent eyes and a wicked smile. You cleaned him off, but just as you went to wipe at your mouth, his gloved hand was faster and he collected the spit and cum that had spilled out and pushed it back into your mouth with two fingers. You grabbed his wrist and made a show of sucking his fingers clean, tasting him along with the worn leather of his gloves. 

“Good girl,” he praised before hoisting you to your feet, “strip.”

“What about you?” you turned your head to the side, but he shook his head in response. He paused for a moment, almost as if he was having second thoughts, but just quickly, he whipped off his gloves and tossed them onto the floor before putting a hand on your cheek and stroking it tenderly. You swallowed thickly before nodding and working to pull off your clothes. 

First was your shirt, tugging slowly over your chest and tossed down to join the gloves. Your arm went to your back as you tugged off your bra, letting the straps fall down your shoulders as an almost nervous breath escaped your lips. 

“Keep going,” he commanded, eyes trained slowly on you as he drank in the sight of you. You undid your own zipper and pulled your pants and panties down in one fluid motion before kicking them off along with your boots and socks. You’d never felt more vulnerable or exposed in that moment, wanting to cover up but also relishing in the fact that you seemed to have rendered the Mandalorian speechless. He looked you up down, not bothering to hide the fact as he looked at your form, glancing at your soft mound before your breasts and then landing back on your face.

Beckoning for you to come closer with a simple crook of his fingers, you did so, standing directly in front of him. His hand flitted from your cheek and down your body before resting at the apex of your thighs. You gasped lightly in surprise as he dragged his fingers through your soaked folds, coating them in your copious arousal, before chuckling darkly. A hand immediately went to his shoulder as you steadied yourself and tried not to completely lose it at the simple touch, “all of this for me, honey?”

“Mhmm,” you admitted as he gently rubbed over your clit, teasingly in the slowest, most tantalizing way possible. Before you could stop yourself you blurted out, “always think about you. Always get so wet.”

He made a small, noncommittal sound as he pulled his fingers away from your wetness and brought them to your lips. He tapped your bottom lip and you opened your mouth, sucked his fingers clean from your own arousal, “I’ve thought about fucking you too. That mouth, that pussy. You’re such a brat, but you drive me crazy.”

“I like when you get mad,” you said as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, “‘s sexy.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice deeper and lower than ever before, and you felt your knees start to buckle at the sheer sex it exuded, He brought his large, warm hands to your tits, touching over your pebbled nipples as you bit back a moan. While you wished it his mouth on them instead, this touch was just as well, as he massaged them, trying to get a good feel of them and seeing what drew out those sweet mewls from you. But before you could enjoy it too much, one hand gripped your waist like a vice and the other went between your legs. He ran his thick fingers through your folds, before slowly inserting one into your wet heat. You moaned as he slowly inserted another and then a third, stuffing you full and already having you seeing stars in no time, “make yourself cum.”

“What?” your eyes snapped open as he stilled his actions, “you’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” he popped the p loudly as he lightly teased your clit, eyes boring into yours, “you act like a brat and you want to cum? You have to work for it.”

“You can’t be serious,” you groaned as he moved to pull his hand away, as if to show you just how serious he was. This time, you caught his wrist and held him in place. He chuckled lightly in triumph as one of your hands returned to his shoulder for balance and the other went to play with your sensitive bundle of nerves. He held completely still, a practiced and patient man, as he made you work for it. He wasn’t kidding by any means when he said he would not be gentle. 

He remained quiet, watching your pretty face shift through a range of expressions as you worked to reach your own high. He was glad for the helmet, for if you had been watching him, you’d have seen the tinge of pink rising in his cheeks as the sight of you fucking yourself on his fingers. He’d envisioned this many times, no doubt about that, but he’d never thought it would become a reality. Maker, you were gorgeous as you thrust onto his hand using him for your own pleasure a string of gentle filth spilled from your lips as you rubbed slow circles onto your clit.

“Mandooo,” it was soft as you felt that familiar blinding haze start to take over you, and your toes involuntarily curled and your cunt started to clench around his fingers. Your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as your vision turned blurry and that familiar warmth started to spread all over your limbs. He felt his cock twitch from where he had tucked himself back in after you’d pleasured him. Before you could finish though, something different met your ears.

“Din,” he said as bit your lip in order to keep from crying out completely, “my name is Din.”

And there it was. Completely unexpected and out of the blue. It wasn’t just a name - no it was so much more than it. It was a sign of trust, of closeness, of the fact that whatever this little situation was, it was neither the first or only time something like this would happen. No, your story with Mando may have come to an abrupt end, but your relationship with Din was just beginning.

It was almost as his name, uttered softly and almost unsurely, was exactly what you needed to push you over the edge as you came around his fingers. A soft moan left your lips along with the sweetest sound he was sure he’d ever heard, “Din.”

A merciful man when he chose to be, he took over for you and worked you through your orgasm as you almost collapsed into his arms, “there you are pretty girl. You did so well, fucking yourself on my fingers.”

“Not enough,” you rested your against the soft cowl of his neck as he pulled his hand from you, but not before slapping your ass a few times, almost as if testing to see how far he could push you. You made a few sounds of delight at the sting, only spurring him on as he slapped and then gently needed the ample flesh of your backside, “please, need you to fuck me.”

“Is that what you need, pretty girl?” he purred in your ear as he pulled back and grabbed your face in his hands, taking in the already blissed out expression on your features, “you want me to fuck you? Think you’re ready for my cock?”

“Yes,” you were practically ready to beg at this point, “I’ve been wanting it for so long.”

At your words, he almost dragged you to the small bed that was reserved for you in the corner and motioned for you to sit. You watched with eager eyes as he scrambled for the waistband of his pants and hastily pulled them down and kicked them off, letting them join your discarded clothes. He practically ripped off the rest of the beskar until he was bared in front of you, save for the helmet. His cock was already painfully hard again, standing at attention and leaking fat drops of precum.

“Can I trust you?” he asked as you nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. You’d never questioned the fact that you’d never seen his face or that he apparently just never showed it to anyone. You respected him and his decisions, and you’d never dare to push the envelope or destroy his trust. 

“Always,” you promised as he walked over to the wall and hit the switch for lights, cloaking the room in darkness. You sucked in a breath before you heard him shuffling about and the beskar helmet clanged against the metal floor. He stood in front of you, you could feel his breathing as he touched your cheek before wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Hands and knees,” he instructed with a delicious rasp, made even better by the lack of filtering from the vocoder of his helmet, “now.”

The singular word was enough to send a fresh rush of arousal through your veins, as you laid on your belly on the small cot before positioning yourself so your ass was in the air. He shuffled behind you, his large hands grazing over the soft flesh of your ass. He spread your cheeks apart before dragging a thick finger through your soaked folds. A small sound of pleasure rippled through your throat as you clutched onto the thin, scratchy blanket of the bed, “please.”

“Quiet,” it was harsh and biting as  the palm of his hand slapped your ass, the sting delicious and leaving you wanting more, “you like that, don’t you? You like being spanked, pretty girl.”

“Only by y-y-you,” before you could say anything, he slapped your ass a few more times before kneading the soft flesh to make sure the sting wasn’t too painful. 

Mando - no, Din - shifted his weight and you could feel him line himself up at your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock through your folds. A moan escaped your lips - and his - as he slowly pushed into you, giving you a brief moment to adjust to his considerable size. The stretch was amazing, the slight burn quickly turned into pleasure and you felt full, so completely full. He groaned as he bottomed out, already feeling pussy dumb by the way your velvet walls hugged him, “this - kriff - this pussy is perfect. Just like it was made for me.”

“Din,” you buried your face in your pillow as he pulled out, slowly, before thrusting sharply back into you. He was not lying when he said that he would not be gentle. His large, warm hands went to your hips as he held them in a bruising grip. You were sure you’d bear his marks for days. 

He set a bruising pace, thrusting into you with no mercy as he slammed his hips into yours. There was nothing gentle or intimate about, no - this was months and months of pent up frustration and desire coming out all at once. Din was not a talkative man, but as he fucked you into oblivion, he was whispering strings of filth and praise into your ears. All you could do was lie there as he pounded into you, so lost in your own pleasure as you became a whining mess under him.

Before he came, his arms snaked around your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest. One large hand went to play with your breasts as the other went to your clit as he rubbed and circled at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Your mouth hung open in a blissful haze as he kept going, pressing kisses into the soft skin of your skin and shoulder, alternating between nipping and sucking and making sure to leave plenty of marks so everyone knew you were his. 

“Look at you, pretty girl,” he grunted in your ear, “taking my cock so well. You love this don’t you? Getting used like this.”

“Mhmm,” you bit your lip as he kept going, kept abusing your spent pussy as he started to stutter in his thrusts, “‘m so close, please, wanna come.”

“You’re going to come on my cock,” he commanded as you nodded, “and I’m going to fill you up and make sure you know who you belong to.”

“I’m yours,” you insisted as you felt your walls clench around him and his cock start to twitch, “only yours.”

“Good girl,” he praised as he turned your head to place a rough kiss on your lips. It was the sheer act of the moment and feel of his stubble that sent you over the edge and cumming all over him. You were like jello in his arms as he held you up, giving you a few more thrusts before spilling inside and coating your walls with his cum, “ahh - fuck - so fucking good. Maker, you feel like no other. Perfect pussy - just for me.”

He held you tightly against his body as he caught his breath, the two of you breathing in sync. You thought he might pull away immediately, but instead, he pressed more kisses, chaste compared to your previous actions, down your back as he slowly lowered you onto the bed. You couldn’t even form words as you laid there, cockdumb and already feeling his arousal along with your own dripping onto your thigh. 

“You did good,” he praised gently before reaching between your legs and scooping up some of his cum that had started dripping out. You whimpered at the touch, still sensitive, and listened as he brought his fingers to his lips and sucked them clean, “but I’m not done with you yet.”

Din gently flipped you onto your back so you were lying face up and exposed to him. He sat between your legs and slowly spread them apart, admiring his handy work. He leaned back before climbing off the small and getting on his knees, pulling you towards his face. Just as you had gotten on your knees for him, he kneeled only for you. 

“Din,” you sighed contentedly as he kissed along your inner thighs, working his way back to your dripping heat. He nuzzled his nose against you, taking a moment to take it all in, “already so much."

"Come on, honey," his voice was like liquid gold as he reached up and touched your breasts, cupping them easily in his large hands, "you've got another one in you. I know you do. Aren't you a good girl?"

"Mhmm," you arched into his touch as he rolled your nipples between his fingers. How this infuriating man got you to become a pile of mush in his hands you'd never know, but you definitely weren't going to question it. He leaned up and kissed your hips before burying his face between your legs, "I'm your good girl."

And with those words, he licked a long stripe up your soaked folds, still soaked from your combined juices. His nose, which you presumed was aquiline in nature, nudged your clit as he ate you like a starving man. You were the shining prize, glimmering in the distance, and he was the wrecked man crossing the desert to get to you.

This time you didn't even bother to hold back as you mewled and cried, tears of pleasure and overstimulation welling up at the corners of your eyes and sliding down your cheeks. Din hummed in content as he licked and suckled at you, making sure to focus on your clit as you came completely undone.

Reaching down, you carded a hand through his locks - curls - as you pressed his face against your aching core. You could practically feel him smirking against you as he slipped a few fingers inside to join his ministrations. Expertly curling his thick fingers, he quickly found the sweet spot that made your toes curls and you see stars.

"Almost there," he grinned as he gave you a moment of reprieve before diving right back in, "I can feel that perfect cunt squeezing around me. Taste so good, pretty girl."

"D-Din," his name falling from your tongue was like pure magic as he became transfixed by how it sounded. Your mouth dropped open in a small O as your legs shook around him. He pulled his fingers from you as he held down your hips in order to keep you from squirming away from him, "feelssogood - makerohstars - Dindindin."

"Come all over my face, pretty girl," his tongue darted into you for a few moments before he gave your clit a harsh suckle. That was all it took before you came again, screwing your eyes shut as he worked your through your orgasm, lapping up every bit of your juices, refusing to waste even a drop, "there you are - taste so fucking good. Perfect."

He was relentless until he was sure you were completely done and a practical ragdoll on the bed. Slowly, he pulled back from you, trailing light kisses up your body, stopping when he got your face. Almost as if he was able to see even in the almost complete darkness, he wiped away your remaining tears. He hesitated for a moment for leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You sighed softly as you rolled onto your side and scooted closer to the wall, making room for him. 

It was a big thing you were doing, boundaries had been crossed and blurred and any rules you'd previously had were thrown out the window. Neither of you were sure what came next.

But you did know that you didn't want him to leave - not yet anyway.

"Din?" you asked softly as he pulled the blanket over your spent body; he was surprisingly gentle for a man that had just sent you to heaven and hell and back. 

"Yes, pretty girl?" 

"Will you stay?" your voice was small as you prepared yourself for defeat and for him to leave.

"Yes," he whispered softly as he slid in under the blanket and next to you, "I'd like that."

"Me too," you admitted as he shifted and pulled you in his arms so you could lay your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump thump of his heart, "Din?"

“Hmm?”

"I'm in charge next time," you smirked lightly as you kissed his soft skin. He inhaled sharply but you could tell he was into it. The man might have just been in charge, but you had a feeling he might like being told what to do as well - and you were going to find out, "I want to ride you."

"Kriff," he groaned under his breath, "You're going to be the death of me, little brat."

"I'll make it worth your while," you promised with a small yawn, "I'll have you crying in no time - begging me for mercy."

“Mhmm.”

“You’re going to be a good boy for me, right?” it was your turn to put your hand on his throat and give it a gentle, but firm squeeze as he stiffened at the feeling, “I know you’re a good boy, Din.”

“Fuck.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[miekasa]

okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck

IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.

Levi

He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.

When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”

They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.

Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.

Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.

And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄

He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.

He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.

Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.

Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.

Jean

Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.

King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.

Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.

Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.

Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”

On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.

Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.

Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”

Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.

Porco

He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.

He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.

He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.

Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.

Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.

It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.

So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.

Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”

Connie

Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.

Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.

Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.

Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.

He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.

Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄

He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.

Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.

Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.

Armin

He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.

I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.

Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.

He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭

Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.

If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.

When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.

Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.

He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.

Erwin

You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.

Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.

Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.

Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.

Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.

Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.

You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.

Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Hayloft p.4

Pairing: Arvin Russell x F!Reader

Summary: Your dad brings home his new coworker, Arvin Russell, telling you that he’ll be living with the two of you for a while. While attempting to keep Arvin from seeing the disfunction of your relationship with your father, the two of you grow closer than you thought. (Inspired by “Hayloft” by Mother Mother, though that’ll really only be one chapter later on so I don’t know if it really counts…)

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, death, abuse, and sexual assault (depictions of none, though), alcoholism/ drunkenness, mentions of teen pregnancy, mentions of infidelity, murder

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Pretty lightly edited, just a warning

Read the Previous Chapters!

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3

“Hey, hun, what can I getcha?” You leaned into your popped hip, pen and notepad in hand.

A man you hadn’t met before, clearly someone just passing through town, was sitting across the diner bar in a light blue button-up and suspenders. He was fairly clean cut save for the day-old scruff across his face. He studied the menu intensely before setting it down and looking up at you with a sweet-as-pie smile. “Can I please have coffee with some cream and the grits?” He asked with a southern drawl.

You scribbled down his order on the notepad, “That all?”

“Mhm, I think so. Thanks doll.” He slid the menu towards you before reaching for a newspaper that had been left on the counter beside him by the last patron. You turned around to pin the man’s order on the little turnstile for the chef when the little bell on the door rang.

Tucking your notepad back into the apron tied around your waist, you grabbed the pot of coffee from the counter and poured the man a cup of the rich black liquid. Next, you prepared a little ceramic cup of cream and walked back to set them on the counter in front of him. His polite thanks were only the background when you saw Arvin walk behind the man and shoot you a smile before settling down in a seat at the bar only a few seats away.

You walked over to him and leaned on the counter with a smile, “Well, hey there stranger. You on lunch already?”

Arvin nodded, looking to you hopefully, “Yeah ‘n I was hopin’ you might be too so I could grab a bite to eat with my favorite girl.”

“Shh!” You hushed him with exasperated wide eyes, like it should have been obvious that he needed to keep his voice down, because in your mind it was. You nodded your head to the other patrons in the diner. “Y’know word travels fast in little towns like this ‘n I don’t need my daddy findin’ out ‘bout us,” you whispered to Arvin who sighed in annoyed understanding. You knew he wasn’t annoyed at you but the situation was less than ideal.

He tapped his fingers on the counter and his knees bounced under the bar, “So is that a no for lunch?”

You glanced over your shoulder to look at the clock that hung on the wall. It was only eleven in the morning but maybe you could ask Charlene if she could cover so you could take an early lunch. “Let me double check real quick.” You held up a finger to excuse yourself into the back to find your coworker.

No more than ten minutes later, you and Arvin walked out to his car with two take-out boxes of burgers you had managed to swipe from the kitchen in hand. He slid into the driver’s seat while you planted yourself beside him in the passenger’s. You handed him one of the boxes of food before opening your own and

digging into the small handful of fries. “So how is your day going so far?”

Arvin took a large bite of his burger, covering his mouth with his hand has he tried to speak and chew at the same time, “Ain’t too bad. I got an engine to rebuild for an old Ford when I get back but nothin’ too terrible. How ‘bout you?”

“Ready to go home already,” you chuckled, popping a fry in your mouth, “But it ain’t too bad here either. Just would like to not be here.”

Arvin laughed a little beside you, “I know how that feels. Thanks for the burgers by the way. I appreciate it. I don’t want you gettin’ in no trouble for stealin’ food.”

You shrugged off his concern, “Don’t worry ‘bout it. If people don’t eat it, it just goes in the trash anyways. I ain’t gonna get in any trouble.”

He let out a heavy breath, resigning to your insistence, which he really just found an adorable confident stubbornness. A comfortable silence fell over the unmoving car as the two of you ate your lunches in the parking lot. When you finished chewing your bite, you looked over at Arvin, “How long you been livin’ with us?”

Arvin looked up at the brick wall straight ahead in thought, “Maybe five months now. Longer than I meant to-"

"I didn't mean it like that! I was just wonderin'...." you got awkwardly quiet for a moment, "Havin' you 'round has been the best five months in a really really long time."

"For me too. When I came into town, I thought I'd be livin' in my car. Didn't know how lucky I'd be gettin' to live with the most beautiful girl in the world." His hand reached over to your thigh, squeezing lightly.

Even after all of his sweet affections and compliments, they never failed to make your cheeks ache from trying not to blush and smile like a schoolgirl. “You really think flattery will get you somewhere?” you giggled teasingly, turning towards him and nudging his leg with your hand.

“Well it got me in your house so…” He teased back, something that he had been doing more often in the last few weeks. Arvin had never been the most humorous of people, aside from the occasional chuckle or hidden smile. That had been changing since the two of you had gotten closer though.

“Uh, no! It might get you kicked outta my house though if my daddy ever finds out.” It started as chuckle but the words faded into concerned worry as you realized how true they could really be.

Arvin sensed the shift, “You really think your daddy would kick me out if he found out ‘bout us?”

You nodded, “Without a doubt. Would probably throw me out too.” You shifted so you were sitting on your bent leg, suddenly uncomfortable.

He began cautiously, “I mean… would that really be such a bad thing?”

You whipped your head to look at him, “I ain’t got nowhere else to live right now. I been savin’ up for a year to move out but it ain’t enough to buy a place of my own yet.”

“How much you got?”

That number was in your head immediately, one that you kept a running total of with every paycheck. “$4,317.” It wasn’t enough, though, and you knew it. Even the old run down houses around town cost $12,000, which meant you weren’t even halfway to the fixer-uppers, not that you minded buying a fixer upper. “I don’t need a mansion or nothin’ but it ain’t nearly enough for even something small.”

Arvin chewed his lip, thinking about the box of cash he’d been stashing away with each of his paychecks as well. He knew exactly what it was like in your position, struggling to save up the money to get on your own feet. He hated relying on others and, even though he really liked you, he hated depending on your and your father for shelter. “You ain’t gonna be stuck in this ol’ town forever,” he promised you and it came out just like that. A promise. “You’re too good for this place.”

Another smile forced its way onto your face at his words of hope, “I’ll get outta here eventually…”

Suddenly, a familiar male voice yelled your name and you flinched. You turned towards the voice to see your boss, Harold, standing at the backdoor of the diner with his hands on his hips. He gave you a stern look and tapped the watch on his wrist before pointing at you then jabbing his thumb over his shoulder towards the door.

“Shit! I totally lost track of time!” You scrambled to gather up the trash from lunch and stuffed it into the paper bag you’d brought it out in. “I’m sorry, I have to run!”

Arvin had nearly jumped out of his skin when your name had been yelled, the only person he’d ever heard calling you that way being your father. He crumbled up the paper wrapper for his burger and stuffed it in the paper bag for you. “‘M sorry. Didn’t mean to get you in trouble with your boss.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” you waved off the worry dismissively, “He acts all tough but he ain’t nothin’ but a softy.” You opened up the door and began to slide out when you stopped and took a quick glance around. Nobody was in the parking lot, or really anywhere in sight for that matter. In an impulsive swift action, you grabbed Arvin by the collar of his greasy shirt and pulled his lips to yours quickly before pushing him before anyone could see.

He looked stunned, big brown eyes wide and shocked by your courageous kiss. Your heart raced and your cheeks flushed with the exhilaration of actually sneaking a kiss to Arvin in public. It was a dangerous move but your dad was at work and there was nobody else around to see. You tried to hide your excited smile by chewing your bottom lip but it didn’t work. “Thanks for lunch, Arv.”

“Uh - y-yeah. Thank you for the burger.” Arvin stumbled over his words while you slid out of the car and closed the door behind you, leaving the poor boy struggling to make his brain catch up to reality.

“See you at home!” You waved one last time before turning. Arvin watched as you jogged back to the entrance of the diner, your little dress bouncing with every movement. You turned to give him one last glance before you disappeared behind the door.

Work had passed rather uneventfully for you. You put in the last few hours of your shift, went to the grocery store, and then headed home to start on dinner.

Arvin, on the other hand, the rest of his day at work had shaken the good feeling he’d had since his lunch break with you. He had found himself with a wrench in hand, trying to bolt back in the engine he’d been rebuilding for the last few hours. Grease smeared across his shirt, pants, and face despite how hard he tried to keep his dirty hands from ruining his clothes. Even if they were work clothes, he didn’t have that many sets of outfits nor the money to go out and buy more.

“My cousin lives o’er there with his wife. Said the sheriff up and disappeared for a while but they found him dead in the woods.”

Arvin’s head nearly hit the hood of the car that was propped up when he heard those words. He looked over his shoulder to see Davis and Fred, two of the other guys that worked at the mechanics shop, talking over two cans of beer.

“You hear anythin’ ‘bout that, Arvin?” Davis asked, sipping his can.

Arvin’s heart twisted in panic but he shook his head like hadn’t heard what they were talking about, “Hear ‘bout what?”

“Few months back, the sheriff in my cousin’s hometown turned up dead. Someone shot ‘im in the woods outside o’ some small town nearby. His name was like Lodeck or Bodecker or somethin’ like that.” Davis explained the story to both of the guys.

“Eh, pro’lly had it comin’,” Your dad came entered from the storage room with a handful of bolts, “I know I’ve met some sheriffs that deserved a bullet between the eyes.”

Fred rolled his eyes, “Yeah well you’re an angry drunk so I’m sure you’d say that ‘bout anyone who took a drink from you. I’m sure this guy wasn’t that bad. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? This ain’t no wild west movie where you go gunnin’ down the law.”

“Nah, I heard he was a no good son o’ a bitch. Guess his sister and her husband got murdered the day before. Found tons of pictures o’ them kissin’ on some dead guys. Some real sick shit, Fred. Sheriff might have been in on it too. Regardless, my cousin said he ran into ‘im one time with his wife and the sheriff really was a bastard,'' Davis shrugged off Fred’s comment, refuting the tragedy Fred was trying to make Bodecker’s death by tarnishing his name.

Arvin’s heart was racing and he began to feel dizzy. The images of those few days had haunted him since they had happened but he had found himself thinking about it less and less as the days passed.

“Arvin?”

Arvin shook his head out of the clouds and snapped back into reality, “What?”

“You came into town ‘round the same time all this happened. Did you hear anythin’ about it?” Fred questioned, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

The young man just shook his head, “Nah, I ain’t heard nothin’ ‘bout it till now. I heard ‘bout the sister though. Sounds like she and her boyfriend were no good.”

“You know what I think?” Your dad began, picking up a wrench and pointing it in Arvin’s direction, “I think our man Arvin here did the sheriff in!”

Arvin stiffened up, “What? Why would you think that?”

“You come strollin’ along through town with nothin’ but a backpack and no backstory ‘bout the same time four people turn up murdered. Mighty suspicious.” Arvin tried his hardest to stand tall and not allow his fear to show but the tension in his jaw was bordering of painful now.

Davis swatted at your dad, “C’mon, leave the boy alone. There’s gotta be thousands of people in that area that coulda murdered them. Can’t imagine Arvin doin’ such a thing.”

Arvin was grateful for Davis’s trust. If only he deserved it.

“I’m only jokin’! Y’all a bunch of whiny little girls, can’t take a fuckin’ joke.” Your dad grumbled to himself, swatting his hand towards his coworkers.

“Ah, shut up.” Fred stood up from the table he’d been sitting at and laid back down on the dolley before sliding under the jacked up Chevy he had been tasked with. “Ain’t nobody ‘round here takes you seriously.”

Arvin watched as your dad walked past Fred, kicking him in the leg and earning a loud exclamation of annoyance, but it was as if he were disconnected from the whole scene. He had tried so hard to forget what had happened back in Knockemstiff and Coal Creek, though it seemed damn near impossible considering it had uprooted his entire life. This tiny town a few hours away was his safe haven, his new beginning. He never would have imagined that anyone this far away would have heard about the murders.

Hearing Davis and Fred bring up Bodecker’s name made Arvin’s blood turn to ice in his veins. What kinda sick fuck you gotta be to shoot a sheriff? Fred’s words played over and over in Arvin’s head. This was just what he was worried about. This was why he ran. Nobody would believe Bodecker was trying to kill him first. Self defense didn’t mean shit when it was against the law. The same with Reverend Teagarden. A man of the word? Arvin didn’t stand a chance if anyone found out what he’d done.

“Hey son,” Davis’s soft voice made Arvin nearly jump out of his skin, “Don’t take nothin’ that ol’ man says to heart. I’m sure you know since you been livin’ with him that he’s just a cranky ol’ drunk who don’t know when to shut up. You’re a good kid, Arvin. Ain’t none of us actually think you did it.”

Arvin looked down at where Davis’s hand rested on his shoulder, the same way his dad used to touch his shoulder when he was reassuring him. He forced a small appreciative nod and a strained appearance of being unbothered, “It’s alright, Davis. I know he’s just kiddin’ ‘round. I ‘ppreciate it though.”

_

Your father arrived at home before Arvin, much to your dismay. Elvis Presley’s Blue Hawaii album was spinning on the record player when he came into the kitchen, kicking his boots off by the door.

“Hey, daddy! How was work?” You asked, mashing a bowl of potatoes for dinner.

He made a line directly to the fridge, grabbing a beer and popping the tab off with no effort, “It was alright. Damn Gilligan blew out the transmission on his truck so I been stuck fixin’ that up all day. Lookin’ forward to this right here.” Your father lifted up the beer bottle and sipped it with satisfaction. Yeah, I’m sure you were, you thought, rolling your eyes with your back turned to your dad.

“Well, if you wanna get cleaned up, dinner should be ready in about twenty minutes. More than enough time for a shower,” you offered with a cheerful voice. Lunch with Arvin today had made your day good in a way that was hard to ruin.

“Yeah, I might go do that. What’s for dinner?” Your father walked over and peeked over your shoulder to see what you had cooking on the stove.

“Mashed potatoes, green beans, and chicken.” You cut in a few slices of butter and added them to the bowl of mashed potatoes, sprinkling some salt, pepper, and garlic powder to taste.

Expecting some words of discouragement like you usually earned from your father, he just nodded contently and disappeared out of the kitchen towards the bathroom. You turned to watch him walk away, your mouth fallen open in pleased surprise at the fact that you just had a semi-pleasant interaction with your father for the first time in several weeks. You turned back to mixing in the now melted butter into the mashed potatoes when the front door opened yet again.

You looked back to see Arvin walking in through the living room, “Hey, Arv!”

His hands were shoved deep in his pockets and judging by the way his eyes shot up to you, as if he hadn’t expected your greeting, he had been staring at the ground when he walked in. “Hi,” he answered low and short with no emotion one way or the other.

Your brows furrowed, “Everythin’ alright?” Leaving the food on the counter and wiping your hands on your apron, you walked out into the living room towards him.

Arvin visibly took a step back and his eyes widened a little, his shoulders squaring up, “Yeah, ‘m good. Just wanna take a shower.”

Before you could get the words out, he had already begun walking away. “My dad’s already in the bathroom,” you called out after him, finally getting him to stop.

Arvin didn’t turn back to you though, only half glanced over his shoulder, “Oh, alright.” He turned back to continue his walk back to his room.

“Dinner will be ready soon!” You attempted to add, only earning a small thanks in response and the sound of Arvin’s door closing. “O-oh… okay.” You stood alone in the living room, the sound of running water coming from the bathroom and Elvis Presley’s voice filling the room but not loud enough to drown out your concern.

Dinner went by just as uncomfortably. You poked at your mashed potatoes, keeping your gaze stuck down at the food on your plate except for when you glanced over at Arvin who seemed to be actively looking anywhere except for you. This only made you roll your eyes out of frustration and stare back down at your food.

Your dad talked about his day, mostly grumbled complaints, “I don’t get nearly ‘nough respect ‘round here. Damn Fred and Davis callin’ me a drunk. What? A man can’t enjoy a damn beer without being called a drunk! Damn prudes.” When you didn’t respond, he reached over and tapped your arm, “Hey? You even listenin’?”

“Hm?” You tried to make yourself focus on what he was saying this time, “Sorry, long day. What happened?”

“See? I ain’t get no respect at work and I can’t even get no respect at my own damn house from my own damn daughter!” He grumbled, the feet of the wooden chair scraping against the ground as he stood up forcefully, swaying a little side to side but bracing himself on the wall to walk out of the room.

You didn’t even possess the mental capacity to care about his little tantrum. Your mind was swimming with confusion and, honestly, anger, at Arvin’s little unexplained silent treatment. “Okay, what’s wrong?” You asked, leaning towards Arvin.

“Nothin’.” He answered simply, taking a sip of his water. His voice was low and he still refused to make eye contact, despite nothin’ being wrong.

“That’s a lie. Everythin’ was fine this mornin’ and now you’re suddenly not talkin’ to me. Won’t even look at me! What the hell, Arvin? Did I say somethin’ wrong?” Thinking back, there wasn’t anything you had said earlier that you could imagine warranting such a negative response from Arvin so your confusion and concern had quickly turned to frustration.

Arvin shook his head, “No, no, you ain’t did nothin’ wrong.”

“Then what is it?” You practically begged him to tell you. You hated being upset at him when clearly something was bothering him but this felt like he was just playing some broody guessing game with you, something you got enough of from your dad.

Stress shone through Arvin’s eyes and he met your gaze finally, if only for a second, before looking away again. You could see there was a flicker of something you hadn’t seen in him before but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Whatever it was, it was really bothering him and you felt guilty for being upset. You just couldn’t understand why you suddenly were being ignored for something that apparently had nothing to do with you.

“I can’t tell you.”

Arvin’s admittal just made you more upset. “So you’re not mad at me but you’re ignoring me and can’t tell me why?”

Arvin hadn’t seen you look at him this way. At your father, yes, but he was unaccustomed to that raised eyebrow and frustratedly desperate crack in your voice being directed towards him. He hated it. He hated knowing that he was causing you to feel upset and helpless when he was supposed to be your escape from those exact feelings.

But he couldn’t bring himself to tell you the truth. You’d think he was a monster. You’d hate him. He’d lose the one good thing he had in his life because-

Arvin shook his head, “‘M sorry.” He looked anywhere but at you because he couldn’t stand to see the way your face fell, though he could practically feel your heart fall from across the table. He didn’t need to see it. He knew.

“Fine.” You stood up and grabbed your plate, scraping the rest in the garbage and setting the plate in the sink. Your appetite was gone and your patience had snapped, not that you had been the most patient thus far anyways.

Arvin watched as you stormed out of the kitchen, grabbed your coat off the coat rack by the front door, and walked out of the house. His head hit his hands. No matter how hard he tried to protect those he cared about, he only seemed to hurt them more.

-

You hadn’t expected Arvin to find you here so when the door opened to the old barn, you turned around in surprise. You were curled up in your coat, sitting on an old wooden crate that had been untouched in this unused barn for God knows how long. A large window looked out over the large field that had once been the family farm but was now practically a glorified dirt lot. Your coat was wrapped tightly around your body, held in place with one hand while you held a lit cigarette with the other.

“Didn’t know you smoked,” Arvin took a few steps in, his hands shoved guiltily in the pocket of his denim jacket.

You blew out a large plume of smoke that you had been holding in and looked away, “I don’t too often.”

Arvin closed the barn door behind him as he approached you and you had to fight the urge to get up and leave but you knew that made you no less immature than the way you felt he was acting.

“‘M sorry. I really am.”

You took another drag and turned to him, the moonlight illuminating his features - somehow so boy-like but so rugged - and it was hard to stay mad at him. “I am too. I don’t mean to be dramatic but I just… I don’t understand, Arv. If somethin’s wrong, you can tell me. This whole silent treatment BS with zero explanation doesn’t cut it.”

Arvin let out a heavy breath. While doing the dishes from dinner for you after you stormed off, he had had time to contemplate what to do. And he had decided. “If I tell you, it’s gonna change how you look at me.”

Your head tilted up at his cryptic opener but you said nothing, only urged him to continue with your eyes.

With a deep shaky inhale, he started his story, “I ain’t a bad man but I’ve done some bad things. Things that I thought I could run away from. I been livin’ a lie for a long time, actin’ like I ain’t hurt nobody, but it ain’t true.” Arvin paused for a moment to gauge your reaction and all he saw was fear in your eyes, just as he had feared.

A million thoughts of terrible things people were capable of ran through your head as you tried to figure out which one Arvin could possibly be guilty of, though they all felt so out of character for him. Was it murder? Assault? Rape? Thievery? The man you had come to care for so deeply now swam in a murky pool of doubt and distrust. Arvin saw all this and more in your deep, worried eyes.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weaker than you wanted it to be, cracking with fear. Until today, you hadn’t imagined Arvin capable of doing anything that could real harm to anyone, maybe aside from a stupid fight in high school or something along those lines, but you could see it in his eyes that whatever it was he was trying to confess to really was that bad.

Arvin lost his ability to speak for a moment. He had resolved to tell you everything before even coming out here to talk to you but the fear shining in your eyes already had his heart breaking. It was as if every new line of moonlight reflecting off the growing whites of your eyes was a new stain that he managed to tarnish your view of him with. Arvin had to look away because he couldn’t bear to look at you when he finally admitted his crimes, couldn’t stand to watch your face contort in fear when you realized what a monster he was.

“Y-you remember that preacher I told you ‘bout? The one that hurt my sister?”

You nodded, “Y-yeah…”

Arvin swallowed hard and he gripped his thigh tight enough to turn his knuckles white. “Well few weeks after we buried Lenora, a police officer came up ‘n told me the coroner had found out she was havin’ a baby. None of us knew before. I don’t know how but I just knew it was that no good preacher. I didn’t have any proof though so I started followin’ ‘im ‘n found out he was worse than I thought. He was no good to his wife ‘n I saw him out takin' advantage of another girl in town who was even younger than my Lenora was. He was doin’ nothin’ but hurtin’ people ‘n I… I killed im.”

Your mouth fell open, “You- You killed him?”

Arvin looked down at his feet, “I shot him.”

It was silent as you processed the information. This preacher sounded like a terrible man, abusing young girls and leading one to commit suicide. The infidelity to his wife was a moot point against his other indiscretions and even that was unacceptable. It honestly sounded like Arvin had done a service to the world, taking this monster out of it, but it was still difficult to look at him the same after knowing that he had actually shot someone.

When you didn’t respond, Arvin had decided to continue, not thinking he could cause much more damage, “I ran. Left a note for my grandma and uncle and disappeared. I tried hitchhiking my way out of town when I got picked by this couple. They seemed nice ‘nough at first but the husband, he started actin’ real weird. They pulled us way off the road. Said he wanted to take some pictures but then I saw him pull out a gun and then he tried pullin’ me outta the car. I-I panicked and I kicked the door into him ‘n I shot ‘im before he could get me.”

Arvin’s voice was cracking as tears began to fall down his face. It was one thing to replay the memories in his own head but it was another thing entirely to actually confess his sins to someone he cared so deeply about, knowing the truth would most likely hurt you. “The wife, she pulled out a gun and pointed it at me ‘n I pointed mine at her. I begged her to put the gun down. I-I didn’t wanna shoot her. I really didn’t. I was so tired of killin’ but then she apologized ‘n I knew she was gonna pull the trigger. We both shot at the same time. I got no clue how she didn’t shoot me. I fell out the car without a scratch but I when I got up, I realized I got her through the neck 'n she was gone. I panicked ‘n searched the car. Found all these pictures of her all naked and huggin’ up on some naked dead guy ‘n I knew… I knew I was gonna be next.”

Your brain sprinted a mile a minute to try and keep up with the trauma Arvin was confessing and you didn’t know whether to hug him and let him cry on you or run as far away as possible.

“Then-”

“There’s more?” You wanted to beg him to stop talking, to stop telling you about the blood on his hands, to stop telling you about all the suffering he had been through. You sounded shocked and heartbroken and yet none of these tragedies were yours.

Arvin hiccuped and sniffled in a failed attempt to hide a sob. Red had taken over his features, both physically and metaphorically. Obviously distraught by his past and now your reaction, he felt like he was beginning to spiral down that hole of darkness that he had tried so hard to claw his way out of. There were nothing but snakes down there, ready to bite him and poison his mind with the words he had fought so desperately to keep out. Murderer. Stalker. Liar. Sinner. All of these and so many more.

Yet, he nodded, feeling as if he’d still be lying if he didn’t finish telling you everything. When he nodded, you made a small squeak of disbelief.

“I-I ran,” He sniffled out, “I hitchhiked my way back to my old hometown. I didn’t know why at first but I just needed to go home. Felt like maybe I could fix what had been broken there. Went there to find it all burnt down but then this sheriff came lookin’ after me. Turns out he was that lady’s brother - the one who shot at me and had the pictures of the cut up dead guys. He was all angry and wanted to kill me for shootin’ his sister. I tried… I tried to tell ‘im that she was no good and that she was gonna kill me but he didn’t wanna listen. He was shootin’ at me and… and… I ain’t had no choice.”

It was silent, aside from the ambient bugs chirping outside. You had tried so hard to focus on Arvin’s face but you had long since zoned out visually, only able to focus on the words he was saying. How could he have gone through all of this? How could your wonderful, amazing, beautiful Arvin Russell have survived so much suffering and been forced to murder people? Murder.

“Please say somethin’.”

Your lips quivered as your vision came back into view and all you saw was a tearful, fearful, remorseful boy before you on the brink of falling apart. Arvin’s hair was messy from having run his hands through it, his eyes were red and puffy from the tears, his breathing was shaky from remembering. There were no words.

You threw your arms around his neck and held him tightly to you. You didn’t know what else to do. How does someone respond to information like this? There was so much trust that Arvin needed to put in you to tell you - you couldn’t freak out.

“You don’t hate me?” His hands flew to your arms, prying them off his neck so he could see your face.

Your head shook, “How could I hate you for what you did?”

“I murdered four people.”

“You took out a disgusting predator who practically killed your sister and was harming who knows how many other girls. Then you killed a couple of murderers who pulled guns on you first in self defense. And then, yet again, you were put in a life or death situation with a sheriff who was shootin’ at you for killin’ his murderin’ sister. Three of those were self defense and I’d dare say that first one was a public service. You have nothin’ to be sorry for. You have nothin’ to regret. You did what you had to do to survive.” You squeezed Arvin’s hands tightly, running your soft thumbs over the lightly calloused skin of his knuckles.

Arvin looked down at your hands on his, hands that were so much smaller than his own but right now felt so encompassing and comforting, as if they wrapped his own in a blanket of protection. He couldn’t believe you were okay with this. He was barely okay with it. “I don’t regret it but I didn’t wanna have to do it. If I coulda let that lady go, if she only woulda listened to me ‘n put the gun down I wouldn’t o’ had to pull the trigger. I coulda let the cops deal with it. Same with the sheriff. If only he woulda listened… I only wanted to shoot the preacher. I was okay with havin’ that on my conscience. But I had no idea how outta control that day was gonna get. All those cold dead eyes starin’ up at you, watchin’ the life drain from someone’s face ‘n knowin’ you’re the one who caused that... Even if they were real fucked up people, it ain’t a sight that’s easy to see.”

“I can’t even imagine what it must’ve been like, Arvin.” Your hand slid up his arm to rest on his bicep and you leaned your forehead onto his shoulder. His arm snaked around your body and held you close but cautious, like he was scared if he held you too tightly that you’d be scared he’d hurt you too. Of course, you weren’t. The thought did cross your mind that perhaps it was unwise to trust a man who just admitted to killing four people but that wasn’t Arvin and you knew it. “You may have killed people but that does not make you a killer. You’re just someone who was put in some really hard situations and had to make some tough choices.”

You pulled back and put your hand on his cheek, slightly scratchy from not shaving that day, and you spoke gently, “You are wonderful, Arvin. You are caring and hard working and loyal and willing to stand up for what is right. You are everything good in this world-”

“I hurt people-”

“You protect people,” you corrected, “‘N if some bad people had to get hurt to keep the good ones safe, well maybe they shouldn’t have been such bad people.”

Arvin could have melted into a puddle at your feet, and likely would have if you hadn’t been holding him. Never had he expected to tell anyone his terrible deeds and in every imagined scenario in which he did, it had never ended well. He had imagined you running for the hills, screaming at him to get out, maybe even threatening him physically out of fear that he’d hurt you now (which he’d never dream of doing).

But you didn’t do any of that. Gentleness and understanding were far from the reaction he’d expected or even felt like he deserved but nevertheless here you were holding him and reassuring him that he wasn’t the monster he’d called himself for so many months.

“I love you.”

His admission surprised you but Arvin felt fully confident in his words. He had never known what love felt like - romantic love at least - but this was damn near the closest thing he could imagine to it. You occupied his thoughts every waking moment, your face and your voice swimming around his imagination in a beautiful ocean of warmth and kindness and goodness that he would gladly drown in. You were strong and responsible and understanding and oh so beautiful. Much like him, you’d been handed a shit hand by life and struggled each day to make the best of it. Arvin cared about you so much it scared him because he had not felt this compulsion towards anyone since Lenora had passed. After losing everything he’d ever loved, he was scared that if he admitted that he loved you, life would take you away from him as well. If there was one thing that you did, though, it was take away Arvin’s fear.

“I love you too, Arvin.” He pulled your body flush against his when you responded, a heavy sigh of relief leaving his chest. Much like Arvin, you hadn’t known what real love felt like. You’d even started believing that maybe you weren’t meant for such a luxury.

Now you and Arvin felt like the richest people in the world, despite having almost nothing to your names. As long as you were in each others’ arms, you had everything. You were each others’ trust, honesty, comfort, compassion, and protection.

_______

Taglist:

@peterswebshooters

@thisisparadisemylove

@justapurrcat

@tomsirishgirlx

@peterswebshooters

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@kittyformannn

@aidinniram

@minejungwoo

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[simsadventures]

Gilded: Chapter 1: To Bride or Not to Bride

Mob! Steve x Reader

Summary: Your life is a mess and you need a little help from time to time. But, when somebody proposes a plan to rid you of all your problems all the way to the far future, you’re suddenly not so sure it is worth it. Especially since the plan is proposed to you by the most notorious gangster America has seen since Al Capone: Steve fucking Rogers. 

Warnings: mafia AU, swearing (like, a lot this time), angst, struggles with money, loan-shark, sleazy men, harassing

Word Count: 7969

A/N: It’s finally here! It only took me around 6 months to bring it, and I apologise for the delay, but I hope I will make up for it with introductory this chapter :) Share your thoughts, let me know what you thought and what do you think will happen next :) xx

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist 

“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was. 

“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for what felt like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction. 

“I told you, honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing. 

2 weeks ago

“Coming!” You yelled through the loud music at the guests seated by the table number 5 where a group of guys was seated, hollering at you every two seconds as if you didn’t hear them the first time. You rolled your eyes at your colleague, who just laughed under her breath as you strode towards the clients. You put on your best fake smile as you approached them, and from the whistles, you assumed they appreciated it. 

“Thank God you came, sweets. We thought you were getting tired of us,” the loudest of them laughed, and the group followed his suit, making your clench your jaw even more. Oh, how you hated this type of men, who had nothing better to do than calling a woman pet-names, making her feel uncomfortable just so his friends could have a laugh and a story to tell. 

“What can I get you, gentleman? Another round of the same?” You asked as sweetly as you could, but it was getting harder by the second as they all eyed you like a piece of raw meat, ready to be devoured. 

“I mean, that would be nice, and could you serve us a piece of that sweet ass of course as well? We’d really appreciate it, pretty face,” the loud guy smirked sleazily, and you fought the urge to vomit in your face. One of the guys made the mistake of actually making a move to swat you across your butt, but your reflexes were quicker. 

You took a step back and breathed in, trying to calm your beating heart. This was, however, nothing new in your line of work, and you just learned to ignore it, or, at best, politely turn them down. Because, as you learned very early on, the manager didn’t appreciate if his “girls” were nasty to his customers. He almost made it sound like you were to provide your bodies with the beers, but you told him straightforwardly that that wouldn’t happen, and if his pub was one of these, you wanted to have nothing to do with it. All you were there to do was to work the evening and night shift to get some extra money on top of your regular job, and that was it. He even made a few remarks how he wanted you all to himself, but you politely declined every time and just tried to ignore it altogether.

“This ass is not for sale, I’m sorry, boys. But, the vodka shots are coming right up,” you tried to give them your best wink but didn’t wait long enough to see if they accepted their loss or not. You genuinely didn’t care. 

The night continued in a similar manner, some people being inappropriate and you just ignoring their behaviour, and some people actually nice, even leaving you a few tips which always made you smile. You were beat when it was 11, and your shift ended, and you were thrilled today wasn’t one of those days when you had to stay there till 4 AM. It was then that people got really disgusting and you even had to resolve to hit a guy this one time because otherwise, you were pretty sure he’d manage to rape you. You sighed at the memory as you continued on your way home, just now remembering you left the tips meant for you in your locker.

Sighing you turned around and walked back towards the bar, and when you were in, you noticed three men in black suits talking to your coworker, who looked stunned and scared at the same time. You cocked a brow at her, and she discreetly shook her head, telling you that you shouldn’t come nearer. 

This time, you really frowned and looked around, but the rest of the pub looked exactly the way you left it, even with the assholes by the fifth table. But you listened to her and took a step back to one of the dark corners, watching what was going on by the bar. It didn’t take long, definitely not longer than 5 minutes before the men turned around and left the building. 

Your coworker looked positively alarmed by now, and you almost ran to her to ask what the fuck did just happen. 

“I have no idea, Y/N. I noticed them by table 10 like an hour ago, but I didn’t pay them any attention because that was Christy’s sector tonight and I had the veranda. And when you left they just came here asking about you,” she breathed out, and it was your turn to look alarmed. 

“The fuck? Why would they ask about me when it was Christy who took care of them?” You screeched, your brain not really comprehending the situation. 

“I have no fucking idea, Y/N. But, like, they asked your name and stuff, and like, if you were a regular waitress here or what. I didn’t want to tell them anything, I swear, but they didn’t take no for an answer. So I just told them your first name, I wouldn’t budge on your last, I promise, and told them that you sometimes worked here but that I didn’t know when was your next shift,” she finished, a little scared of your reaction now, but from the look of those guys, you knew they were bad news and that Anja did the best she could.

“Nah, it’s ok, An. I would do the same. I’m really grateful that you didn’t give them my last name, though, that was really thoughtful of you,” you smiled at her, and it obviously put her at ease as she hugged and hurried back to the veranda, where you both saw a few guests waving that they needed a refill. 

The hell did just happen, and why would three mysterious men ask about you? 

It couldn’t be that they found out, right? No… you made sure all the traces were hidden, forever, so, that wasn’t an option. 

No, you told yourself, there must be another reason for them to ask about you. But you didn’t want to find out. It was a one-time thing, these men were just confused, or one of them liked you or something like that, and you would never see them again. This actually calmed you down enough to start functioning again, and you remembered that you came for something specific, took the money and went straight home. 

“This can’t be happening,” you muttered as you looked over your bills. There was so much to pay and so little money on your account that you actually started to sweat. You worked two jobs and still wasn’t able to afford to live a life where you didn’t have to worry about money. What was more, with the high taxes, your rent, subway card and food you went into red numbers, and that was something you definitely didn’t want. Nobody told you that as an Arts Major, you could still be struggling to stay alive in the city of New York. 

You went over the bills again even though you knew your math was correct and that you didn’t have enough to pay your landlord this month. 

Fuck, you muttered again and considered your options. You could ask your friends, but you didn’t want to bother them since you knew they were struggling as much as you were. You shared your apartment with two of your best friends who you considered a family by now, Caroline and Aidan. And while you knew they would do anything to help you, neither of their jobs paid enough to be able to help you as much as you needed this month. 

Your other option was asking your landlord to give you some more time before more money arrived, but just imagining the conversation gave you goosebumps because you could picture the kind of service he’d want from you, and you’d literally rather go and beg on the street than to sleep with that middle-aged pig. 

So, as you summarised it, the only option remained the loan shark. Tony was actually a nice guy, once you got to know him, and he was nice to you because you always paid precisely what he told you to when he told you to, and never asked too many questions or begged for more time. You were smarter than that, and, besides, you’ve seen too many movies with loan sharks to know what could happen to you. 

The first time you went to him was probably 2 years ago, straight from university when you still thought you could make it big in New York. Well, safe to say that you didn’t make it, and while you remained hopeful, you had bigger problems than becoming a renown painter, like not starving to death and other fun stuff like that. 

You were awfully scared to go to Tony, he had a reputation of being kind of an ass, but people also said that, compared to the other guys in the business, he actually had the fairest demands, and as you had no other choice, you just went to him. And because life was a bitch, you ended up going there on more occasions. Tony was kind enough always to lend even small amounts of money because you really didn’t need 100K. No, you always need like 1 or 2 thousand, and while the other loan sharks turned people like you down, Tony didn’t, and he never wanted more than like 400$ as a return, which seemed quite fair as the other guys always wanted 100% or more. 

Well, Tony, it was, as you sighed looking around your room, thinking how you even got where you were. But there was no time to waste pitying yourself, and so you shot Tony a quick message, as you always did, and to no surprise, he was very quick to respond that you should come by later that afternoon. 

You were just getting ready when Aidan burst through your door. He stopped mid-step, looking at you confusedly because you didn’t tell him you were going somewhere. 

“Got a date or what? You never go out on Saturday afternoon, not if you can help it,” he said sceptically, looking around the room as his eyes landed on the fumbled papers on your table, and the look of realisation hit him. 

“You going to Tony again? Y/N, we told you, we can help you, babe! Let us help just this once, please?” He pleaded with you even though he knew it was useless. 

“C’mon, babe, you know you and Caroline are not making much either, and you’re both glad to get by another month. Tony is like an old friend by now, really. I don’t mind it that much, and it’s definitely a better option than burying you two with me under this pile of shit,” you huffed as you finished applying mascara, but you didn’t even check yourself in the mirror, really not caring that much how you looked. You went to Manhattan just to meet Tony and would go straight back, quick mission, in and out. 

“You need to find a better job, Y/N,” Aidan smirked at you, and you just laughed because you both knew it was pretty much impossible, especially since you loved your day job with the only issue that it paid like shit. 

“You know this is my chance to be close to art and I really want it. I mean, it could happen that they promote me from being a receptionist to like, I dunno, being a secretary to one of the curators of the gallery, right?” 

He just huffed and kissed the top of your head, striding towards the door. It was only then that you noticed he was dressed to go out as well. 

“And where are you going, mister?” You asked with a mother-like tone, and he just laughed, turning around as if he was caught in the act. 

“So, you remember John?” He asked, sitting on your bed, and you actually laughed out loud at him. 

“Which one? I mean, there has been so many Johns and Peters that I swear to God I’m starting to think there are only men called John and Peter in the whole fucking New York. So, more info, babe, please,” you scooted to him and listened to which John it actually was he was meeting and was pretty excited about this. This was John the Ballet dancer, and he looked really nice, so far. 

John the Fake Mobster was a lying bastard, John the Hairdresser wanted Aidan for just that one thing but would never admit it, and then you didn’t even have John-the for the guys because they were all just idiots who didn’t see your best friend for what he was: an amazing, although a little extra person with a very good heart, great sense of humour and amazing hair. 

“Alright, well, you know the drill. Keep your phone on data so we can use Find your Friend if needed, keep your eyes open for anything sketchy going on, but, most importantly, enjoy yourself, babe. I’ll see you tonight,” you hugged him tightly and walked out of the apartment and into the busy streets. 

If it were all up to you, you’d live in a secluded place, somewhere in the north probably, like outside Seattle, where you’d have a lovely little house, maybe by a river or by the ocean or something, where you’d have enough inspiration for your art and where you wouldn’t be annoyed by the little things, like the car horns blaring all the way to the night, people shouting underneath your bedroom’s window, and little things like that. 

But life was not a factory for fulfilled wishes, and you had to endure another day trying to make it in New York. You thought about all of this as you walked down the street to where you knew you could find Tony. You weren’t happy that you had to go to him, again, but you also knew that you didn’t need to worry anymore. You would have the money for your landlord by the end of the week, and when the gallery paid you, you would pay Tony back. Again. 

“If it isn’t my favourite girl!” You heard a familiar voice hollering from the shop, and you laughed lightly as you walked into the pawnshop Tony had set up in the lower Manhattan. 

“Hello to you too, Tony. Today a yellow day, or what?” You greeted him as you looked at his outfit, which was just a canary yellow tracksuit and a matching hat. He looked like a character from a bad movie, but you knew better than to say anything like that. 

“Yellow is very classy and trendy, thank you very much! Yesterday I wore this really nice green velvet tracksuit, and you should have seen some ladies walking by, they almost ate me with their eyes! I swear!” He added as he saw you stifling a laugh, but you just nodded in fake understanding, and both of you shared a relaxed laugh. 

“So, what can I do for you today, sweetheart?” He drawled, and you shuffled on the spot, always feeling slightly uncomfortable when it came to this part. 

“I need a thousand this week. Ton. I’ve been working my ass off, but the bills keep building up, and every time I think I’m out of it and I can live normally, there is always something holding me back,” you sighed, scratching your arms which was a nervous habit of yours that Tony grew quite fond of. 

He was almost sorry for saying the next thing, but this was way above his pay grade, and while he really did take some liking to you, and he would always give you enough time to pay him off, he knew who he couldn’t piss off. 

“Listen, Y/N, I have a proposal for you,” Tony started, and you frowned, not really knowing where this was going, but from the look on Tony’s face, you could tell it was nothing good. 

“There is somebody who would like to get to know you, and he has a proposal for you that he believes you can’t refuse. I don’t know any specifics, I just know he is willing to pay you a lot of money, and I’m talking thousands and thousands, Y/N. He said that nothing sexual would be involved because I told him that if he was looking for a one night stand, you weren’t his girl, but he assured me that this wasn’t it. He would like to meet with you and tell you all the details if you let him. And before you say no, Y/N, think about it. All you gotta do now is to meet him and listen to him, and he is one of those guys who don’t take no for an answer,” Tony finished, and while you saw it pained him to give you the message, you were too stunned to care. 

“What the hell are you talking about, Tony? Is this some kind of a sick joke? Like, did this guy tell you he wanted to talk to me specifically or just a girl desperate enough to come here?” You blurted, still not getting what he was about. 

“He asked for you, sweetie. I don’t know how, but he knew you’d come and told me when you did to give you the message and give you his address. Which is here,” he said, handing you a piece of paper with an address and a date with the time written on it, “and he told me that if you came and agreed to his plan, you wouldn’t have to worry about money this week or any other week. It could be your chance, Y/N. Look, the guy is extremely powerful, so, please, just go and meet him, and you’ll see, ok?” He was scared, and it made you scoff out loud. 

Great, so a loan shark was giving you a message to meet some mysterious, powerful asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer and who probably stalked you as he knew you would be coming to Tony sooner or later. Just great, really. 

“It seems I don’t really have a choice, do I? Sheesh, Tony, at least tell me who this guy is and like how scared I should be. You gotta give me something because I can’t just go to some random house and be totally ok with it. Nobody can’t expect me to do so,” you pointed out, and Tony nodded in understanding. 

“Totally, yeah. I even asked if I should come with you, but I was told you should be alone. You should be alert, let’s put it that way. If I were you, I’d really think before I speak, because this guy doesn’t take anything lightly. And I think it would be best if you didn’t know his name, Y/N. Just… he doesn’t want to hurt you, all he wants to do is speak to you, so please, just do it,” Tony finished just as some customer came into the shop. 

You waited patiently because the conversation was far from over, but you knew better than to start shit in front of some stranger. Tony was evidently scared shitless of the guy, and it only fuelled your already growing anxiety. Tony was determined not to share too much information with you, but you didn’t understand why. Why could you not at least know the guy’s name? Who could it be? 

Your brain took a detour to a few nights ago back at the pub where you saw the men asking about you, and a cold sweat broke on your skin. It must have been connected, there was no doubt in your mind about that, and it filled you with so much dread you actually had to catch your right hand with your left to stop yourself from shaking violently. 

The doorbell rang signalling the customer left, and your eyes gazed at Tony, who was already staring at you apologetically. 

“And what about the money, Tony? It’s Saturday, and I need to pay my rent by Friday next week. Nice of the guy, whoever the fuck he is, that he wants to see me, but he won’t if I’m on a fucking street next weekend,” you seethed, and Tony was quick to walk around the counter behind which he was standing this whole time and walked closer to you. 

“He wants to see you on Wednesday, Y/N, and he specifically told me not to lend you any money, that he would take care of it. Whatever the fuck it means.”

“The fuck? I don’t even know his fucking name, and he will stop me from getting money to survive? What the actual hell, Tony? You can’t be serious right now,” you cried out in utter desperation because none of this was supposed to happen. You were supposed to come, chat a little with the goatee man, get the money and walk back home, where you’d watch some stupid TV show and drink shitty wine. 

But no, of all the people living in New York this shit must be happening to you. As you didn’t have enough on your fucking plate as was, some mysterious fucker had to be interested in you for whatever reason, and he wouldn’t let you live without talking to him first. 

“Can’t you just call him and tell him that I want to have nothing to do with him?” You asked when you felt calm enough to talk again. You didn’t even know whether you were scared or desperate or angry, but at best, you were feeling a mix of all these and some more, that was for sure. 

“No can do, sweetie, but I promise it will be alright, ok? You’re a strong one, I know that and whatever he wants from you, you can either give or can talk to him,” Tony smiled sweetly, and while you knew he was full of bullshit you let it slide because you just didn’t have it in you to fight with him when he was clearly just the messenger. Whoever wanted to speak to you, however, he would hear it from you because where were we that a guy just asks for a girl and the whole of New York delivers her to him on a silver platter?

Wednesday 

“You gotta be kidding me, Y/N. Are you seriously considering going there? For all you know it might be some elaborate trap and somebody’s gonna jump you and kill you in some dark alley,” Caroline screeched at you as she saw you getting ready after you came home from work. 

You had to ask for a night off from the pub since mister nobody wanted to meet you on your night of work. But you knew you couldn’t say no. Whoever it was, Tony was afraid of him, and Tony was a tough guy. And not that you wouldn’t be brave, but your bravery was mostly concentrated on being able to throw a spider out of the apartment or walk the corridor with the lights out, not really crossing some powerful guy who could do God-knows-what to you if you didn’t come. 

“C’mon, guys. You know I gotta do it. And I honestly think if they wanted to kill me, they would have already done it,” you muttered, trying to pick something to wear, that wasn’t too revealing, but you also didn’t want to go wherever you were going in a pair of baggy sweatpants you were currently rocking. 

“But like, what if they want to make a personal slave out of you, huh? Like, cuff you to a ceiling and serve them with your body, like a personal kind of slave, you know what I mean? You were not made to be strapped to a ceiling, babe,” Aidan panicked, and you actually had to laugh. 

“Your imagination never ceases to astonish me, Aid. Or are you speaking from personal experience?” You smirked as both you and Caroline laughed out loud at Aidan’s expression of utter disgust. 

“You two are disgusting, and I hate you, but that doesn’t change the fact you still don’t know where the fuck you’re going,” Aidan countered and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“I’ll keep my data on so you can see me this whole time, and if I don’t call you by 9 PM you can send the cops there, deal?” 

They both nodded in agreement, knowing this was the best they were getting. You were glad you had them in your life and that you had people caring enough to try and stop you from doing something stupid, but something in your told you that your life would be even worse if you didn’t go. At least this way you’d know the whole story, and you would be able to make an educated decision based on all the variables. 

“A’ight, but if anything sketchy happens, you run, ok? We can figure out the money, but we can’t figure out shit if you’re not here with us,” Caroline reminded you, and you nodded solemnly. 

God, you just hoped you weren’t making a mistake by listening to Tony. He even shot you a message in the afternoon, reminding you to go there because if you didn’t, it could end up badly for both of you. And it was actually one of the decisive arguments in the whole thing, surprisingly. You didn’t want anything happening to Tony, especially not because of you and your decisions, and so you just told yourself to suck it and prepared for the evening. 

You really couldn’t afford the cab, so you had to leave super early to be at the given address at precisely 7 PM. You also grabbed the book you were currently reading, Kim Stanley Robinson’s New York 2140, so that the ride to Manhattan wouldn’t be as dull and dreadful. You could think of the utopian future he depicts rather than thinking of your journey to the lion’s den, and that was the most promising image you created in your head about the place where you were headed. 

Not that you didn’t try to find the place on Google maps, but all the buildings on the address looked the same, and, actually, quite nice, so you had no idea what you were getting yourself into. 

Meanwhile, Tony texted you again since you didn’t reply to his previous text, and this time you took the time to craft a message telling him that yes, you were indeed headed to the manor and he didn’t need to worry about his own neck because you wouldn’t let others be hurt because of your incompetence or your cowardice. 

You knew you were getting off on Chambers St station and you actually took the time to think how many people living in Tribeca had to take the subway. The answer was, very obviously, zero, as the majority of the people in the subway were either passing or were clothed in a way you knew they worked in either one of the restaurants there or as a help. And you felt like one of them, because you too didn’t live in the wealthiest village in New York, and you too were going there mainly for business. Well, at least you hope you did. 

Checking every house number when you got to the street you were supposed to meet the mysterious guy at, you tried to find where exactly was the bat cave, and when you saw the number 112, you knew you found it. 

Your breath came in ragged huffs as you tried to gather the last remnants of your bravery as you walked up the stairs and buzzed on the door. Your head was spinning lightly, and you actually had to lean against the wall beside you to regain your composure. 

The door soon revealed a massive man dressed in a black turtleneck and a pair of black jeans, and you were actually quite surprised not to see him with sunglasses and an earpiece. If the situation weren’t so tense, you’d probably joke about it, but as it was, you just followed his lead as he beckoned you inside. 

“Miss Y/L/N, I presume? I need to see your phone and your belongings, ma’am,” he stated, and you raised a brow at him. 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s a standard procedure, ma’am. Everybody here to see the boss needs to be checked, just in case,” he stated, leaving no room for discussion, and while you sighed exasperatedly, you still handed him your bag and made a point by fishing out the phone and shoving it in his outstretched hand. He took a quick look through your belongings, pushing it against what you assumed was some kind of a metal detector before he pulled out another device. This looked like a big phone, and he scanned your bag once again. 

“What is that?” You asked, unable to stop your curiosity. 

“Checking if you’re not bugged,” he answered matter-of-factly as he continued before he put the device down, clearly not finding anything. Where would you even get a bug, and why would you do it? You rolled your eyes inwardly but kept a straight face in front of the man, just in case he was watching. Which he was, as you found out by him waving in front of your face and showing you to follow him. 

You braced yourself for whatever was awaiting upstairs and obediently walked behind him. 

As you walked through the house, you got the impression that whoever lived there was wealthy, but that kind that didn’t really put on a flashy show. There were no chandeliers, no heavy curtains and stuff you pretty much imagined this place would look like and that image had nothing to do with the Beast and the Beauty dance room, nothing at all. 

But this was… modest. Everything was very contemporary, some prominent brick here and there with mostly grey floors and the furniture was most definitely customary but, again, it was plain yet luxurious. You assumed that’s how the really rich people lived. They knew they had the money, and the people around them knew it as well, so there was no need for diamond stairs and a golden toilet. 

A few names surged from memory as you heard your coworkers discuss the wealthy New Yorkers, but you didn’t want to assume anything before you actually saw the person, so you just walked by the halls before the man stopped in front one of the rooms and quietly knocked. 

It was not surprising when another man dressed exactly like the guy leading you appeared from the room and took a quick look at you before he said something to whoever was behind him. When the affirmative came that you could indeed go in there, they shoved the door open and what you assumed was a living room appeared in front of you. It corresponded with the whole house, but your attention was caught by one specific thing. Your brain had its own world, and when you saw one of Tunji Adeniyi-Jones’s paintings from his last year’s exhibit, you almost fainted. He was your favourite contemporary artist. And seeing his work outside of the gallery was practically an otherworldly feeling. You gaped at the beautiful play of colours, and your heart swooned at the perfection of the brush strokes. 

“Ehm,” you heard somebody cough beside you, and it startled you so much you actually jumped to the side, your hand flying to your chest in a feeble attempt to will your heart to stay calm. 

You took the intruder in and found out that unlike every other man in the room (and there were a few, as you noticed) this guy wasn’t wearing all-black attire. He was in a comfortable-looking creme sweater and a pair of dark blue jeans, everything fitting him as if the clothes were sawn to his body. 

Which, as far as you could tell, was the body of a Greek God. 

“See something you like, honey?” The man interrupted thoughts, and it just crossed your mind that he was really rude, not letting you breathe even for a second before he had to make his presence known. 

“Yes, actually. I’m quite a big fan of the artist whose painting you have there, so I admired that. And you are?” You trailed at the end, signalling that while he was very handsome, you had no idea who he was and why it was that you needed to come to him this evening. 

“Straight to business, huh? I like that. I’m quite surprised Tony didn’t tell you who I was. Was he scared you wouldn’t have come if you knew?” He didn’t wait for your answer, however. “Well, honey, I’m Steve Rogers, and I am very pleased to meet you,” he smirked at your stomach dropped. 

Steve Rogers? That Steve Rogers? It wasn’t possible. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” you muttered as you scratched your arms nervously. 

“Oh no, on the contrary. I’m all too real, Miss Y/L/N, and from the looks of it, I’m glad Tony didn’t tell you, you look like you might faint. Are you feeling alright?” He asked like the smug asshole he was, and you just turned away from him, taking a deep breath before you finally turned back around to face him with a pokerface. 

“I’m alright, thank you. So now, can I know what it is you want from me so much you stalked me and made me come here, pretty much by force?” 

He scoffed but showed you to follow him to the sofa. When you didn’t budge, he simply took you by your elbow and pretty much shoved you down to the plump sofa. 

“Force, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I simply asked you to come visit me, is it so wrong? But yes, you are right, we should talk about why I invited you here. You see, Y/N, I’m in need of a wife, and after long calculations, I came to the conclusion you would be perfect for the job,” he said straightforwardly, and it was now that you felt like you’d faint. 

“Marry me? Are you fucking insane?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer. Form the pissed off expression on his face, you could see it was not the right move, but he couldn’t expect any other reaction, really. 

“Easy, honey or I might have to use the said force to shut that smart mouth of yours,” Steve mumbled dangerously, and you swallowed harshly. 

“Right, you’re a notorious mobster, and I’m literally nobody, and if you killed me, nobody would miss me. Good, now that’s out of the table, why do you want to marry me? And what does it mean you are in need of a wife? I mean… you are notorious for dating a different girl every week, can’t you just marry one of them if you’re in such a great hurry?” 

“No, honey, I can’t. All you need to know right now is my proposal. So, here it is. You will marry me, we will stay married for a year and then get a divorce. You will have everything every girl ever wanted: loads of clothes, all the time in the world to do whatever the fuck you want, you won’t have to work, and I will pay for everything and more. You will live here so you won’t have to worry about your rent money, and I will also pay your student loan, on top of which you will be paid 20.000$ every month for playing your role. And when the year is over, you will walk away rich, without any debts slowing you down and you will be able to do anything you want. How does that sound?” 

“It sounds like it’s not a proposal but a directive,” you smiled sweetly and stood up, pacing the room and scratching your hands like crazy. This was not happening, no, no, no!

You needed the money, you really did, and getting rid of the debt from your student loan that would have been sweet too, but at what price? On the other hand, you thought, how bad could it be to just be somebody’s wife for a year? He did make it sound pretty easy. 

“What would be expected of me?” 

“Well, you would go with me to every event and pretty much listen to everything I say,” he shrugged as if it was the most natural thing to say to another human being. 

“Like, you’d ask me to spread my legs for you here, and I would do it?” You asked, suddenly very angry that the man just assumed what kind of a person you were. You were desperate, but not that desperate. 

“Oh, no, honey. That is one of the reasons why I chose you: I’m not attracted to you, so no, I wouldn’t ask you for any sexual favours. We could even put that to our contract if you’d feel better, but, really, you have nothing to worry from me,” he again said with ease, and you didn’t know if you were glad he just told you this or really pissed and ashamed.

Not that you thought you were some kind of a beauty, far from it, but he also didn’t have to be so upfront about it. And now you understood it even less why the hell he chose you.

“Just, wait a second,” you said, your brows knitting together as you tried to piece together all the information the man in front of you had just given you. He was gorgeous, there was no question about that, but that wasn’t the issue here. There were many gorgeous people in New York, and you didn’t marry any of them. Yet, that was. 

“You want to marry me. But you still haven’t told me why, so?” You asked for like the hundredth time that evening, and the man just smirked again, playing with his cuffs, never answering to your satisfaction. 

“Honey, what I want, I get, and I decided that I wanted you, so, what is going to be? Are you gonna be a good girl for me or am I gonna have to force you, hm?” He smiled sweetly, but even you knew better. Behind that oh-very-sweet smile, there was venom and a ton of it. You rubbed your temples and plopped down on the nice-looking couch, thinking about what he was proposing.

“Then why choosing me if you don’t find me attractive? Not that it’s an issue, I’m just really trying to understand the situation here,” you said, totally ignoring the threat in his voice as you needed some much valuable answers. 

“Right, well, first of all, as I already mentioned, what I want, I get, honey, and you should always remember that. Secondly, it was your ability to keep a straight face, even though I can see the ability is not endless. I need somebody who will be sickly sweet to both my friends and enemies alike, who won’t mind a few sleazy comments from the old fuckers, and who will look like an obedient wife. I need somebody who will blend in and who will look trustworthy, and not like she was to stay only for a week. And when I saw you in that pub where you used to work, I could see you had what it took to be in this life, even if only for a year,” he finished, and you were glad you were right at least about the guy, Steve, also sending the people to sniff around your workplace. But then it hit you. 

“Where I used to work? I still work there,” you said dumbfounded, and Steve chuckled humorously. 

“Oh no, you don’t. You see, I need my wife free all the time and I need her here with me. Look, Y/N, this is getting tiring, and I really need an answer now. What is it gonna be, huh?”

“Like I even have a choice. You just said you would use force if I said no, so, what am I supposed to say, huh? I don’t want to get married, but I don’t have any money and your snoopy ass is getting in the way of my life, and you ended one of my jobs, and before you say you terminated my contract in the gallery, please think about it again. That job is very important to me, it has always been my dream to be in a gallery surrounded by beautiful art, and, by chance, having my art there as well. 

I don’t know Steve, your offer is very generous, it really is, but I don’t think I’m the right one,” you sighed finally and looked around the room, ignoring the boring looks from Steve. Then you saw the clock and you almost panicked, it was two minutes before 9. 

“Oh my God, I need to call my friends, or they’re gonna call the cops,” you said quickly already dialling Caroline’s number. You told her you were fine and that no, you weren’t a personal slave yet, but that you’d tell them everything when you got home. When the call ended, the venom was back in Steve’s eyes. 

“If you think you can talk to people about anything I have just said, you are terribly wrong, doll,” he seethed, and you were taken aback, but you didn’t want him to think he intimidated you.

“Well, if you think I’m not gonna tell my family about this, then it’s you who is terribly wrong, Steve. We tell each other everything, and if I considered this proposal of yours, it would mean Aidan and Caroline would know about this, at least that I’m marrying you for more than my undying love for you,” you spat back, and Steve saw the determination in your eyes. He knew he had to compromise with you, even if only a little bit. 

He already found out everything about you, he knew your whole life, your past, everything his people could find on the internet. And what he got from the search was that you and the people you lived with were extremely close. He considered getting rid of them but realised it would only push you away from what he needed from you. And he needed a wife ASAP. 

The mafia was still very conservative, and as he was the only boss without a constant woman by his side, he was sometimes excluded from important meetings that happened on “family retreats.” And he needed all the info there was if he wanted to be the best of the best. Or, the worst of the worst, if we were being literal. 

“Fine, but they will need to sign a contract saying that they will keep their mouths shut,” Steve smiled back, and you nodded, your head already spinning. 

Were you really considering it? But was there any other option? You needed the money, and it would’ve be great if you didn’t have to care about your student loan for the rest of your life. You would see the world, just like you wanted, you would have time for your art, and you would be free after only a year. That didn’t sound that bad. Sure, you’d be affiliated with a known mafia boss, but that was nothing you couldn’t handle. But there was still a question Steve didn’t answer. 

“What about my job at the gallery? If you made them fire me and I’m gonna find out tomorrow, I can’t even begin to consider this. I want that job, I want to work at that gallery, Steve.” 

“Fucking hell, I could buy you the gallery if you agreed!” He shouted, exasperated that it was taking so long. He really didn’t get it. He was proposing a life in luxury, and he knew that the majority of women in New York would be more than happy to be seen by his side. But you? You had to be difficult and even demand stuff. Fucking hell…

“But whatever, you wanna work there, fine. Whatever, I don’t give a fuck. Do we have a deal or not? I have better things to do with my evening than just bargain with you, honey,” he accentuated the pet name that you already hated.

Well, this wasn’t how you imagined your proposal to go. Not that you were too keen on the whole idea of a marriage, but still, a girl could dream. Yet, here you were, actually considering getting tied up with a mobster for a year just because he offered you enough money and a life that you felt like could be interesting, if only for a year and with a man who blatantly told you he wasn’t interested in you in that way. This was the only reason you didn’t feel as dirty as you expected because you knew he would never touch you and never want you to do something sexual against your will. 

You were used to lying through your teeth ever since you were little, your parents made sure you knew how important it was to keep your secret, and dangerous life wasn’t something you only heard of on TV. All this made the decision slightly easier, as you finally made up your mind. 

“Fine, but we still have a lot to talk about, Mr Rogers,” you set your jaw and outstretched your hand to shake on it with him. 

“Whatever, Mrs Rogers. Consider your rent paid and I’ll see you on Friday when we discuss our matter in greater detail. Now, if you excuse me,” he kissed the top of your hand and walked away. 

Well, this would be fun, you told yourself as you watched the man you would soon call your husband walk away from you, and contemplated whether you made the right choice. But your life wasn’t great as was, as much as you tried to fill it with laughter and happiness, and, in a sense, Steve offered you an out, even if only for a little bit. 

Here was to nothing, you hollered at yourself in your mind and followed one of the turtleneck-guys out of the manor and into the chilly air of evening New York.

/ Next Chapter >

Tags will be in reblogs. Taglist for this series is open, all you have to do is send an ask or a message to me :) x Thank you for reading!

[thebrochtuarachs]

Something in the Rain - “A Month Apart, Part 1”

A/N: Hi everyone, thank you for your patience as I whipped out this chapter. I had the initial outline on how this chapter will go but more frequent than none, it changes a lot in the middle while I'm in the writing process. :) I love this story and I hope it just gives you the good feels while reading this. We're two years into this pandemic and the world is still crazy. I hope you're keeping safe and being kind to yourself. :) As always, your comments and suggestions are very much welcome.

A modern day meet cute instance between Jamie and Claire.

AO3  / C1: A Day In June : C2: Definitely, Maybe : C3: So We Meet Again : C4: Friday Lunch : C5: Finding Solid Ground : C6: Situations : C7: Interruptions

XXXXX

After their first date, their schedule for the following two weeks we’re packed - with Jamie settling back in the firm after his 2-week trip from London and Claire’s schedule at the hospital and preparing for her trip to Seattle.

Being a lawyer and a doctor weren’t the most flexible jobs - with patients and clients to attend to, surgeries and hearings to prepare for, plus, with both of them in administrative positions, it is additional work on top of their normal duties. But Claire and Jamie were determined to make it work, so they decided to communicate better, be extra patient and understanding, and really commit whatever available time they had.

The first week, Jamie couldn’t make lunch as he had a court hearing to prepare for and Claire couldn’t make dinner as she was on the night shift. So Jamie, one day, surprised Claire outside the hospital by picking her up, invited her to quick breakfast dates instead, and dropping her off at her house to make sure she got home safe.

The second week was a bit lighter but with Claire going to Seattle on Saturday, she had to do extra administrative work to make sure everything was set for her leave. She offered to have dinner takeaways at her office in the evenings which he happily accepted.

The night before her flight, Claire and Jamie were hanging out in her office, sitting at the sofa, admiring the Edinburgh skyline with a little wine and cheese tray.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t go out” Claire apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Sassenach.” Jamie turned to Claire and patted her hand. “I honestly would prefer to do anything if it means I get to spend time with you - whether sitting here in your office on a Friday night or sitting in the gallery watching your surgery.”

“You’re too good to me, James” Claire quipped in a feigned dramatic voice.

“Ah, you give me too much credit, Claire. I hope you know that you make an effort too, especially these past two weeks”

“Me? It feels like you’re fitting more to my schedule than I am yours!”

“But you met me during breakfast even though you looked too knackered from yer shift.”

Claire couldn’t deny that and she could just smile with Jamie’s understanding.

“Are you all packed up for tomorrow?” Jamie asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. The weather’s mostly rainy in Seattle so I brought extra items for the wet and cold.”

“And what’s your schedule for the month?”

“Have I not sent you my itinerary? Hold up -” Claire took out her phone and quickly sent an email to Jamie. “There, I sent you my schedule but between teaching and surgery, my time’s the same as here just minus the administrative work, which I tell you not, I’m pretty excited to be free of it for the next month”

Jamie just nodded. The next month.

It’s all rather bad timing if you look at it. The first month, they’ve been rather inseparable with going to lunches almost everyday and weekends at the center. The following month, quick dates and meetings as Jamie was away at London and their crazy schedule at the hospital and the firm. And now, going into the third month since meeting, they’d be completely separated by roughly 4,485 miles.

“Did you hear what I said, Jamie?” Claire asked while waving a hand in front of Jamie’s face.

“I’m sorry, what?” Returning to the present, unaware that his mind has gone away a bit.

Claire gave him a softened look and sat closer to him. “What were you thinking?”

Jamie stayed silent but Claire’s look urged him on.

“Nah, ye’ll think me daft” Jamie said but Claire shook her head.

“Fine” Jamie stretched his arm to pull her closer and she gladly leaned on his shoulder. “I was just thinking about how I’ll not be able to see ye for a month, how much I’ll be missing ye, and how excited I am once ye return here.”

“Oh,” Claire knew the feelings were simple but it’s his words and the way he said it that touched her most.

“I told ye it’s daft.”

“It’s not daft.” Claire tried to mimic Jamie’s accent but they both just have to laugh at her attempt. Turning serious quickly, she took Jamie’s face by the hand and looked deeply into his eyes. “You know that I am going to miss you too.”

Jamie just nodded in agreement, looking at Claire so sweetly and lovingly that she couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss.

Since their first kiss after their date, they hadn’t been shy in showing affection to each other. Nonetheless, it’s all been very respectful to the boundaries to whatever stage they are in their relationship. Hand touches, hugs, pecks and kisses here and there but never really beyond that.

But with her impending departure, Claire seemed to be eager for more. Instead of completely pulling away, she kissed him again some more.

Jamie quickly picked up the signal and allowed himself to pull Claire closer and to his lap. A few minutes later, Claire felt Jamie’s tongue on her lips asking for entrance which she happily obliged. The air around them was electric.

Jamie was first to pull away before the moment got away from them. Claire sighed - not from disappointment, but by the fact of how chivalrous Jamie really is. And she doesn’t really mind it one bit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

The following day, Jamie picked up Claire to drop her off at the airport. They thought they had time for a quick bite but traffic was so horrendous that they got to the gate just in time before boarding began.

With barely any time left, Jamie pulled Claire to a tight hug as the PA system called her flight. “Go, you’ll miss your plane”

Claire reluctantly released Jamie with a grunt. “Let’s go somewhere when I return”

“Sounds like a plan” Jamie tried to hide the longing in his voice but it was too late.

“The month will be over before you know it, okay? Message me everyday, call me every afternoon when you can” Claire encouraged him. With one last kiss, they bade each other goodbye as she started walking to her gate and Jamie was no longer in sight.  

As Claire waited for take off, the silence of a constant message ping on her phone slightly unsettled her. It was then she realized the vast distance between Seattle and Edinburgh. A single tear escaped but she quickly pulled it together. She’s not even gone yet but homesickness hit her right away.

-

So the four-week long distance trial began.

The 8-hour time difference is not too crazy between Seattle and Edinburgh with their available times falling at the start and end of the day. They’ve been coping well with their synced calendars and communication options.

Jamie sends flowers and snacks to Seattle Grace, earning Claire points from the staff for all the treats she’s been giving away.

Claire, on her end, sends late messages to Jamie to wake up to in the morning and asks Mrs. Kim’s Korean Street Food Hub to delivery chicken wings to Jamie every so often.

They’ve also reserved some time on the weekend for extended calls with conversations falling from happenings to their week to what hairstyles and colors they’ve done in the past.

It wasn’t till late in the 3rd week that things started to shake up.

It was a random Thursday evening in rainy Seattle. Between two surgeries and one class, Claire was ready to call it a day. She was settling on her sofa, drinking her tea for a little night cap when her phone pinged. It was 9:30PM Seattle meaning it was 5:30AM Edinburgh, too early for anybody to contact her over there unless it was important.

Grabbing her phone, her notifications show it was from Geillis. It was a link to a tabloid along with a message “HAVE YOU SEEN THIS?”

With the link, she can see the preview of the title “Jamie Fraser is off the market!” Curiosity prevailed Claire and she clicked the article

-

On the other side of the world, Jamie, as always, promptly arrived at the firm. Just as he was to pass Mrs. Fitz, she called him out.

“Ah, lad”

“Yes, Mrs. Fitz?”

“I dinna ken yet what ye or Claire are yet but have ye spoken to her today?”

“Today? Not yet. Why?”

She motioned for him to come round the reception and take a peek at her monitor.

She showed him the same article Geillis sent Claire and as soon Jamie saw the accompanying photo, he fished out his phone and immediately contacted Claire. It was midnight in Seattle but Jamie didn’t care - he wanted to clear things before things got misinterpreted.

“Erm, hello?” a groggy Claire answered the phone on the other side of the line.

“Hi, were ye asleep?” Jamie asked as he walked the hallway to his office.

“I was but I answered already, what’s up?” she replied, her voice still muffled by sleep. She knew why he was calling though but wanted to hear it from him. “Did you just arrive at the firm?”

“Yes,” he replied, closing the door to his office for privacy. “Well, I don’t want to keep you long but an article came last night about me and well, in case ye’ll see it, it is not true.”

Jamie heard Claire sigh on the other end, “I’ve seen it” she confirmed.

“Ye’ve already seen it?” he repeated in disbelief, looking at his watch, it’s only been posted a few hours ago.

“Geillis sent it to me earlier, I think it just came out then. She’s a bit of a morning person so…”

“Claire, it isn’t true. It was all in a bad angle. The Dunsany’s have been a long-time client of ours and we had an unexpected dinner meeting yesterday. I was just escorting their daughter to her car when the paparazzi got wind of us and ran with whatever story they could think of.” Jamie quickly explained in summary.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. I mean you say it’s not true and I believe you.”

“You don’t have any questions?” he asked, a little baffled.

“Not really. I mean was there more to it?”

“A bit but something we can talk about later.”

“Okay”

It was both refreshing and confusing as to why Claire seemed nonchalant about all this. On one end, she might be really understanding. On the other end, she might be harboring ill-feelings she didn’t want to discuss.

It was Jamie’s line that turned silent. Claire, guessing he might need more despite her sleepy state, obliged him. “Jamie, I won’t lie. I was surprised at first because of the photo and how the article was written with your family histories. Add to that, that I didn’t see it in the calendar and you didn’t text me about it.”

“Why didn’t you call -?”

“But” she interrupted him, “I also know you, Jamie, and I know about us. If I was really concerned, I’ll call you right away. But I’m not and we’ll be meeting later anyway, so I know we’ll talk about it eventually.” she paused to catch a breath. “Besides, you already explained it, I don’t need to know any more because I trust you, Jamie.”  

“Okay” it was Jamie’s turn to give the one-word reply.

“Are we okay now?” she asked.

“Yes, as long as ye are too.” Jamie replied to which Claire mummed in agreement. “Thank ye, Claire.”

“You’re welcome. Now, I’ll go back to sleep and see you later.” With that, Claire ended the call, a small smile crept on her face knowing the relief and joy Jamie probably feels right now.

[nctyhoney]

a helping hand (m)

Pairing: mark lee x fem!reader 

Genre: smut, fluff, office worker!mark, friends to lovers, office!au

Word Count: 7.6k

Warnings: oral sex (male receiving), car sex, dry humping, praise kink

Playlist:  pickled ginger - mac ayres, fill my holes - YESEO, wait for it - H.E.R.

Summary: You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

A/N: Mark in a suit is just too damn cute. This is my first fic on here so thank you for reading! There will be another part to this at some point.

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It’s just gone 8 am and you're on your morning commute to work. You have a car but the traffic in Seoul made it almost impossible to drive during rush hour. Your eyes still feel puffy from sleep, and you hope your mascara has masked their appearance somewhat. As you and a mass of other office workers spill out of the subway station, you're greeted by an autumnal wind. Although it felt mild for the time of year, you couldn't get used to the early morning darkness that the promise of winter brought.

In just 2 years, you'd progressed to head of the marketing team at Hyphen, Korea's biggest publishing house. You were proud to have landed a job at such a reputable company straight out of university, but with each pay rise came more responsibilities.

The elevator reached your floor, 39. Going through to the kitchen area, you put two iced Americano cans in the refrigerator. You weren't a fan of coffee but it got you through the day. As you were organising the refrigerator, you felt someone behind you and turned around quickly - it was your manager. He had a weird way of creeping up on his workers and you found him somewhat seedy. You always made sure to be polite to him, though.

"Morning manager Kim," you stand up, adjusting your pencil skirt slightly.

"Morning y/n! Here bright and early I see. Did you get my email last night?" He asks, his eyes flicking between your body and your face.

"Sorry, what email?" You ask, feeling slightly panicked.

"This year's interns start today. I sent it last night so you probably didn't get a chance to read it."

Crap. Interns. You didn't know if it was your imposter syndrome talking but something about being observed by interns made you feel underqualified. Perhaps you just got a bad batch of interns the first time around. You remembered Kyungsoo and Minhee from last year. Kyungsoo's uncle was CEO of Hyphen and he wouldn't let you forget it. He refused to work and you'd find him and Minhee coming back from their lunch breaks an hour late, often out of the unused stock cupboard.

"No sorry I didn't read it," you apologise, "when are they coming?"

"The receptionist said there are four downstairs waiting. They'll be up in a minute," manager Kim says checking his watch.

You nod, "How many will I be working with this year?"

"You'll each have one intern this year. You'll be working with Mark Lee, he's Canadian. A good kid. I think you'll like him."

Just then, the sound of the elevator reaching the 39th floor alerted you. Four of the interns shuffled out of the elevator.

"Welcome to Hyphen, I'm manager Kim, you might remember me from your interview," he said looking between his sheet with their faces and names and up at them.

"So we have Mark, Haechan, Jeno and Sooji. I hope you enjoy this year working in marketing. This is y/n, she's head of this department."

You exchange handshakes and bobs of the head, feeling relieved that these interns at least look shy rather than cocky rich kids.

"Mark you'll be giving y/n a helping hand this year. Y/n, I know you'll make him feel welcome. The rest of you, let's find the workers you'll be shadowing," manager Kim says before they're off out of the kitchen to one of the conference rooms.

Mark is staring at you from a distance, awkward and tense. His black hair falls into his eyes despite styling it neatly for work; he brushes it out of his eye nervously.

"Tea?" you ask him, grabbing your two favourite mugs out of the cupboard.

"Oh, yeah, please - if that's not too much trouble," Mark says hesitantly.

"Of course it's not. You can sit down, we don't start work for another 20 minutes."

He does as he's told, opting for one of the chairs closest to the kitchen worktop.

"Do you take sugar?" You call over to him.

"Two," he replies, fiddling slightly with his wristwatch. This boy is endearing you think, definitely an upgrade from arrogant Kyungsoo.

"How are you feeling about interning here?" You ask, stirring his tea, before coming to sit at the chair next to his.

He takes the mug, "Oh, thank you. I'm kinda nervous I'm not gonna lie, but thankful to be here."

You laugh, his casual tone is refreshing but he catches on and apologizes quickly.

"There's no need to apologize, you can be informal with me. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable," you say, catching his eye over the rim of your mug. He's blushing slightly, and you wonder why you are too.

♡

It's been 3 months since the interns came. December comes and with it is an endless rain.

In those 3 months, it didn't take long for you and Mark to grow close. Sure, he still had his occasional shy tendencies but you spent all your working hours together. Rather than a forced relationship between a senior and their junior, this was something you both saw as natural.

You're just not sure if the feelings you've developed are natural, too. His eyes hold onto yours for longer at company dinners, his hands linger at your waist when he reaches to get a file from the shelf in front of you. And it sets something off in you. You crave the contact. Mark Lee is driving you crazy.

You certainly weren't imagining these moments. You were used to workplace flirting. Everyone at some point would have a 'work bae'. Mark was different though, he was your intern. There were things you wanted to teach him, things he wanted to teach you and none of it had anything to do with work.

When you first started at Hyphen, Johnny used to be heavy on the flirting with you, and being from America, he was confident with it. He’d make you cups of hot, sweet tea each morning. He gave you those flirtatious touches on your arms while complimenting you, and he’d always make sure you got home safe after a company dinner. But he also had a long-term girlfriend and you knew nothing could come of it. Johnny still flirts with you, but that’s just him. And when you first began working at the company, you fell for it...almost. It happened a second time, with Jaehyun but then you learnt that these were just the ways of the office.

Today was a Friday, which meant your division would have drinks with the manager. You weren't keen on drinking, especially not with your manager but your coworkers made it bearable. And since the CEO was attending this week, the manager wouldn't be bothering you, Yerin and Mina for the entire night.

You lean over Mark, reading through the document on his laptop. He's edited the press release you wrote for a new book launch.

He shifts around in his seat. You can't tell if he's nervous about you reading his work or nervous about being sat underneath you. You hope it’s the latter option, though. 

"As expected from our Markie. You're really helping me by editing these documents, it's great - thanks," you smile, moving away slightly.

He's blushing a violent shade of pink and touching the back of his neck. He couldn't get any cuter.

"It's not fair that y/n gets such a helpful intern. Sooji left early when she promised to help with my reports, that's the second time this week," Mina huffs, folding her arms.

"It's compensation for the hell I went through with the interns last year," you laugh.

Johnny walks up to you and nudges you playfully.

"Nah it's not compensation. Y/n is just so hard-working, that's why they gave you the most hard-working intern," he says winking.

Mark looks between you and Johnny, an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, thanks for that Johnny but that's definitely not true. Not the part about Mark not being hard-working...or me, I mean, I am hard-working, just not the most," you stutter, suddenly feeling foolish.

Luckily it hits 5 pm before anyone can dwell on your tongue-tied speech. You're all tidying away, turning off your monitors and getting ready for a night of drinking.

You catch eyes with Yerin and go to the bathroom to touch up your makeup.

You're reapplying a dab of lipstick and Yerin brushes her face lightly with powder. She stops for a moment, glancing at you.

"You don't still like Johnny do you?" Yerin asks.

"Johnny?! No way, I'm not going back there," you laugh.

"You seem nervous around him," Yerin points out.

"Come on Yerin, that was awkward. It's weird when someone hypes you up like that. It's bad enough being marketing lead now, it's like I'm expected to be some bigshot when I still feel like a uni student," you admit.

"Yeah, I understand, but you're totally capable. Could it be that you’re feeling shy around a handsome, new worker, I wonder?" Yerin winks.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've noticed that you've been spending a lot of time with Mark recently. I'm left to take lunch with Doyoung. I mean I'm not complaining but you know, Mark does look kinda smitten."

You look over at your friend and catch her looking back at you, expectantly.

"We have to look after our interns, Yerin. And it's not every day that you get such a hard-working one like Mark. Remember the hell I went through with Kyungsoo? Let's just say I'm relieved I've got a good worker."

"Right...so you don't think he's even a little bit cute?"  

Hell yes, you did. But you couldn't admit that, could you?

"He's cute but like, in a little bro way. He's too goofy for me to see him romantically," you bluff but you know Yerin can see right through you.

"He's an intern, what's the harm? As long as Kim doesn't find out," Yerin says.

"Yerin! You're talking nonsense."

"I've seen the way you look at him. And the way he looks at you," she laughs.

"The way he looks at me?" You blurt out, "The way I look at him? We're just good coworkers."

"Girl, you're such a bad liar."

♡

Yerin's words stay in your head for the entire night. Suddenly you're thinking about what Mark's lips would feel like against yours. Wondering what it would feel like for him to touch you, more than the light touches in the office. You've thought about it before, of course. But mostly while touching yourself in bed.

Mark is sat at the low table opposite you, Yerin and Mina at either side of you. Mark is laughing, taking a shot of soju as Johnny pats him on the back. He clearly can't handle his alcohol because he's giggling like a school kid and his face is already flushed. He looks stupidly cute and you realize how much you want to hold him, feel his flushed cheeks underneath your palms. But you peel your eyes away, tuning in to a conversation Yuta and Mina are having about Christmas holidays in Japan.

Manager Kim announces that him and the CEO will be moving to drink somewhere else, stumbling from the long table and telling you to enjoy your night. You all know where that 'somewhere else' is, but you don't bother questioning it. Corporate culture can be parasitic.

Even so, you're relieved that they've left, the atmosphere less stuffy now. Things feel playful and flirtatious. Jaemin is whispering in Jeno's ear and Jeno is laughing. Yerin's hand is dangerously placed on Doyoung's thigh. 

You can't snatch glances at Mark anymore because he's looking right at you, his eyes filled with something you haven't seen before..lust? Maybe your tipsiness is altering the situation but you like it.

“Shall we play truth or dare?” Lucas grins, clapping his hands.

“Let’s just do truths, we’re in public,” Jaehyun points out.

“I second that! But this stays between us, company oath,” Mina says, taking an empty soju bottle and spinning it on the table.

The bottle lands on Jungwoo first and Jaehyun and Mark nudge him on either side, laughing.

“Jungwoo! Who would you date out of everyone here?” Mina asks.

Jungwoo’s eyes are playful and he throws his head back laughing.

“You want me to be completely honest? I’d probably say Lucas,” he says without hesitating.

Everyone is laughing and teasing the pair, except for Mina who nudges Lucas in the ribs to stop him from smirking.

“Moving on, where is the riskiest place you’ve ever had sex?” Jaehyun asks, spinning the bottle as it lands on Mark. 

Mark rubs at his nose, looking at you momentarily. You pretend to focus on your soju shot but you’re listening carefully. 

“I mean…a car I guess?” Mark chuckles, he’s bright red now and you feel jealousy rising inside of you.

Why were you jealous? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.

Johnny is ruffling his hair but Mark looks up at you, looking slightly shifty. Maybe you understand how Mina feels now. You can’t look at him.

“Okay, moving on,” Mark says taking the bottle, “Do you like anyone here?”

It lands on Jaemin and he reclines back in his seat. He raises an eyebrow, “Sure, they like me too.”

Everyone laughs at that and Jeno just shakes his head cutely, everyone knowing they’re practically an item at this point.

“Who would you make out with right now if we were doing dares?” Jaemin asks.

The bottle lands on Johnny. It’s Mark’s turn to pat Johnny on the back now and Johnny just smiles to himself.

“Aren’t you gonna answer, Johnny?” Yuta laughs.

“I’d make out with y/n” Johnny shrugs.

There are collective gasps, and you can feel everyone’s eyes on you. That wasn’t what he was supposed to answer, surely? He had a girlfriend; he could’ve passed on the answer. You look up at Johnny and as if reading your thoughts, he shrugs.

“I had to answer,” he says, putting his hands up defensively.

You laugh then, typical Johnny.

There’s a playful glint in Mark’s eye. Was he that unaffected? You suddenly felt annoyed, foolish for feeling jealous about Mark’s confession.

“If you could have a threesome with two people here, who would they be?” Johnny asks.

It lands on Yerin then, who is already flushed with embarrassment at the question.

“Doyoung, and hmm..” she pauses looking around, “Probably y/n, because we’ve seen each other naked.”

“What?!” Mark, Lucas and Jaehyun say simultaneously. Mark just about chokes on his soju.

“Calm down Mark, looks like someone’s getting a bit turned on,” Yuta winks but Mark’s eyes are still wide, shocked by Yerin’s statement.

Yerin was your best friend, all best friends had seen each other naked. It was perfectly normal. At least it was for you two. 

“It’s a girl thing,” Yerin says simply, taking another shot.

“Oh! I have a good one,” Yuta says grabbing the bottle, “Have you masturbated thinking about anyone around this table?”

Of course it lands on you. To be honest, you had touched yourself thinking about 3 separate people at the table but no one needed to know that. Everyone’s silent and you don’t know where to look. You could lie, it would save your reputation but where would the fun be in that? You were all as tipsy as each other. So you reply with a small “yes” instead.

“Who was it?” Jaehyun asks. 

“I’m not gonna answer that,” you laugh.

You try not to blush but you can’t help it and cover your face with your hands momentarily.

“She’s thinking about them again!” Yerin nudges your shoulder.

You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see if Mark was staring at you so you take the bottle to ask the next question quickly.

“How many people have you slept with in total?” you ask, spinning again.

It lands on Doyoung, his eyes are wide and he looks confused, you can’t help but laugh at his cute expression.

Yerin is smirking, expectant.

“Hmm...maybe fifteen?” Doyoung says, tilting his head.

“Fifteen! No way,” Johnny laughs but Doyoung just nods.

“You said you wanted the truth.”

Yerin looks slightly pissed as she pours another shot of soju. It’s only when Doyoung whispers in her ear that her frown softens into a slight smile. She’s got it bad, you thought.

“Let’s stop the game now, I don’t want to hear all these details,” Mina says, side-eyeing Lucas.

 “Yeah I didn’t even get picked,” Haechan huffs, “Let’s just drink a bit more!”

"Hey," Yerin murmurs in your ear over the noise a few moments later, "I'm going home with Doyoung, I'll see you on Monday."

"You naughty girl! Have fun," you laugh. She blows you a flirtatious kiss as she leaves, her arm in Doyoung's.

It's gone midnight when you and your remaining coworkers spill out onto the street. 

"To the next bar, let's go!" Haechan shouts, stumbling as Johnny props him up.

"Dude, you've had way too much to drink. I'm getting you in a taxi," Johnny says. 

Sooji and Jaehyun also opt for getting taxis, following Johnny down the street.

"Are you coming y/n? Mark?" Jaehyun calls.

"I think I'm going to get some food first, I'll see you guys on Monday," you say before you realize. You're not even hungry.

"Yeah me too, see you later!" Mark waves.

You say your goodbyes, leaving you and Mark to walk the opposite way. Mark follows your step, but he's taking his tie off, undoing his top button because he's hot from drinking even though it's the middle of December. The sight of him makes your stomach flip.

"You don't think they'll suspect anything, about you coming home with me?" you ask suddenly.

Mark raises an eyebrow and looks at you, "Who said I'm coming home with you? I thought you wanted food."

"Yeah...yeah, just they might think something else."

Mark shrugs, "Do you care what they think?"

"No, and I guess everyone's fucking each other anyway," you say emphatically.  

"Exactly. Everyone in the office knows we're friends, let them think what they want," Mark says.

"I guess you're right."

"So where are we going?"

"McDonald's?" you ask.

"I don't really feel like food, to be honest," Mark chuckles.

You turn to Mark, "You're seriously just gonna watch me eat?"

He shrugs, "Why not?"

His eyes are glazed over and shiny from the alcohol, his lips formed into a little pout. It takes everything in you not to kiss him right there and then on the street. 

"You're so weird when you're drunk," you say instead, "Seriously, where do you want to go? If you're not going to eat, we might as well go home. I mean...you go to yours and I go to mine."

Mark pulls at his ear, thinking for a moment. But it doesn't really look like he's thinking, more like pretending to think. You can see the trace of a smirk hiding on his lips. This whole conversation feels weirdly contrived. You want him and you're pretty sure he feels the same way.

"I could come with you? Just, you know, to make sure you get home safe," Mark blurts out.

You can't take it anymore. You want Mark Lee so bad it hurts. "Right, okay...well, shall we go now?"

Mark nods and you haul a taxi, just as it starts raining.

♡

Mark is stood in your bedroom doorway, looking as awkward as when you first met him. Now you're not so sure if it was a good idea to invite him in.

"I'll sleep on the sofa if you want," he insists but both of you know it means nothing.

You laugh, "Mark, you can sleep in my bed, it's alright. You can sleep on the left side, I'll sleep on the right if you want."

He smiles in response but doesn't move.

"Seriously Mark, I'm not going to bite," you say patting at the bed.

He sits down gingerly then.

"Your apartment is decorated so nicely," he says looking around your room.

You can see the moon outside of your window, already on its descent for another night.

When you turn back to look at Mark, his eyes are on you. You don't know what to say, but you know what you want to do.

"Can I kiss you ?" he asks, confirming your thoughts. He looks down at your lips and back up to your eyes again.

You nod your head, you can't talk but it doesn't matter because Mark is already leaning in and then his lips are moving against yours. His lips taste faintly of soju, but you don't care. You want to taste him and you slide your tongue against his, suddenly feeling desperate. He takes the hint because you're both taking off each other's clothes then until you're both just in your underwear.

"Wait," Mark says, his hands faltering, "Do you think we should be doing this?"

It's dark, only a street lamp and the moon partially illuminating the room. The raindrops are highlighted and cling to the windowpane. You feel melancholic and you realize now more than ever that you want to be held by Mark. You can make out Mark's expression, a mix of flustered and horny rolled into one. You know he wants this too, this dorky, shy intern who was barely able to make eye contact with you is now in your bed.

"Why not? There's nothing wrong  with what we're doing."

That's all the confirmation he needs because he starts to plant kisses on your neck. You stroke his hair as he makes his way down to your boobs.

"You're so hot" he murmurs, taking off your bra.

He nuzzles his face into your chest, breathing heavily before taking one of your boobs in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nipple first and then sucks again. His tongue feels warm and wet against your skin. He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy.

"God that feels so good -  keep doing that," you breathe.

He hums in response against your boob and you shiver. You want to keep hearing him, that voice that you've dreamt about for nights on end.

Mark lifts you to sit on his lap and you can feel his hardness pressing against you.You guide Mark's head back up to meet yours and you're both kissing again. You grind down on him, both knowing you need this. You want to feel him against you and you can't control it. Your movements are instinctual. Mark understands because he's bucking his hips up to meet yours, despite still having his boxers on. You can hear him grunt into the kiss.

"Do you have a condom?" you sigh.

"Shit, no."

You break apart briefly, Mark's eyes are hooded and his lips are swollen. You're almost certain that you look the same.

"It's okay," you say, getting off his lap to sit next to him.

"Wait - what are you doing then?" he asks, a trace of disappointment in his voice.

"What does it look like I'm doing," you say, pushing him lightly so he's lying down on the bed.

You pull off his trousers and he helps by kicking them at the ankles. He's eager now, his eyes hungry.

You pull down his boxers next until he's lying there, his beautiful, fully naked body exposed. You can see the shadowed contours of his lean body, the smoothness of his skin.

You kiss on his thighs, his skin is so soft and you hear his breath hitch as you do it. He's completely turned on now, you're satisfied knowing you've done this to him. So satisfied that you begin rubbing your clit in slow motions as your face hovers over Mark's crotch.

You take his dick with your free hand and pump it in your hand a couple of times. The tip is wet already and you kiss it, the precum on your lips. He whimpers then and you circle your clit quicker, feeling yourself growing wetter. As you lick Mark's tip, his hips raise to meet your mouth.

"I can't show my face when I'm like this," he murmurs, putting your bed pillow over his face.

"No, I want to see you," you say, climbing up to take the pillow.

Mark just turns his face to the side in response, too horny to argue.

You take him fully in your mouth, bobbing up and down slowly before finding a steady rhythm. He groans in time to your sucking motion.

"Fuck y/n, I'm gonna cum soon," he moans.

You hum against his dick, "You taste so good, Markie. Please cum for me."

He holds your head, pushing it down to reach his raised hips and you can feel yourself choking as his tip touches the back of your throat.

"I'm so...close,  fuck" he moans, thrusting into your mouth.

He whimpers and wriggles beneath you, before jerking violently in large strokes as he cums in your mouth.

You swallow it up, but continue sucking, feeling yourself reach your own climax.

"Shit," Mark hisses.

"Oh my god, Mark -" you cry as you orgasm, your center pulsating.

You come to lie next to Mark, kissing him, open-mouthed and hungry. He can taste himself on you and he likes it.

"You were so damn good at that, y/n," Mark whispers.

"You were so good," you mirror, taking his now sweaty cheek in your hand.

"But I didn't get to do anything," Mark mumbles, placing soft, small kisses on your face.

"I came too. It was so hot seeing you like that."

"No seriously - I wanna make you cum, like for real though," he murmurs into your hair.

"Mm?"

"I know you're sleepy now but would you let me some other time?" he says in the darkness.

Mark's dark hair is plastered to his forehead now. He's hot and flushed, it makes your heart want to burst.

"Do you want to see me again? Like...outside of work I mean," you ask, brushing the hair from his eyes to look at him.

He nods, "What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing, are you asking me out?" you giggle, pinching his cheek a little then.

He smiles and you know he's blushing.  

"I guess you could say that, yeah," he laughs.

"I'm free then," you say, giving him a small peck on his lips.

Mark pulls you in for a hug. It seems like he wants to say something, whisper to you but you find yourself drifting in and out of sleep quickly. The sound of rain mixes with Mark's rhythmic breathing and lulls you to sleep.

♡

Mark had told you to wait on a nearby street by Apgujeong station. So you're surprised when he pulls up in front of you in his car. It's an old model, just about affordable for a student but it suits him well.

"I never knew you had a car," you point out, climbing into the passenger seat.

"What can I say, I'm a man full of surprises," he winks, laughing because he knew that was as cheesy as it sounded.

"Is where we're going a surprise too?" you ask.

"It might be," he says tapping at the steering wheel with his thumb to the beat of the music. It's a Lucky Daye song.

"You look so pretty by the way," he says, rubbing his nose slightly. You can tell he does that when he's shy.

"You don't look bad yourself," you reply. That would be an understatement, Mark looks like a full course meal right now. Skimming your eyes over his casual clothes, you remember that this was the first time you were meeting Mark outside of work.

You feel good. Despite how cold the late morning feels, the low winter sun is shining, the sky a soft blue.

"Where are you taking me?" you ask when you eventually realize that you're leaving Seoul.

Mark just taps his nose and tells you it won't be a long journey.

And he's right, in the next half an hour, you're driving on Incheon bridge, next to a stretch of blue sea.

♡

It turns out that Mark brought you to Incheon to eat.

You're sat on the floor at a low table of a seafood restaurant. Both of you know how good Incheon seafood is. There's what seems like a hundred different side dishes on the table, and despite both being big eaters, you're not sure if you'll be able to clear even half of it.

"Have the spicy seafood stew, it's delicious," Mark says, pouring you a bowl and putting it in front of you.  

You take a mouthful and he's right, it is delicious. It’s warm and spicy, exactly what you need on a cold day. Mark is looking at you intently, his eyes shining like an eager puppy. He seems happy to see you enjoying your food and that warms your heart. You want to kiss him again.

“The stew is really good for a hangover too, it’s probably what you need,” he says, smiling. 

“Hangover? I’m not hungover, do I look it?” You say self-consciously. 

“No, no, I just meant we both drunk quite a lot last night,” he says, laughing nervously. 

You blush remembering last night and then your thoughts flick back to truth or dare, and how jealous you were. 

Mark must be thinking about it too. "Have you dated any of the guys at Hyphen?" he asks.

You just about choke on your stew, "No, why do you ask that?"

Mark shrugs, "I just wondered. They all speak really well of you, especially Johnny. And you're pretty, why wouldn't they want to date you?"

You laugh then, "Do they?"

Mark frowns a little, "You don't like Johnny, do you?"

"God no, we barely interact these days. No, I haven't dated any of them."

"Did you interact a lot before?" Mark asks.

"Me and Johnny? No, has Johnny said something?"

"Nah, apart from saying he’d date you last night. He just looks like he likes you," Mark says, rubbing his cheek.

You laugh a little then, "No, Johnny has a girlfriend and I wouldn't date him now even if he didn't have one."

Mark relaxes a little then.

"Is there a rule about dating coworkers then or do you just decide not to do it?"

"There's no rule, people just like to keep their personal and work lives private and often separate," you point out.

Mark thinks for a moment, toying with the noodles on his plate.

"What do you like to do, keep things private?" he asks.

"Private or public, I don't care, they can choose," you say quietly.

"Okay...that's good then," Mark says, smirking slightly.

He always has a roundabout way of saying things.

♡

It's 5 pm when the wintry sun sets in Incheon. You and Mark are walking along the beach. It's not perfect weather for it, since it's cold and you shiver in your coat but you're happy to be here with him.

"You need to dress warmer, y/n!" Mark says as he turns to you to retie your scarf properly.

He rubs his hands over your arms to warm you up.

"I'm okay - feel," you say, reaching your hand up to his cheek.

Mark searches your eyes and so it doesn't come as a surprise when he leans in and kisses you. His lips are warm and soft against yours and you feel as though you're melting. The kiss is a light, sweet one and you have to break apart because you feel giddy.

"Sorry, I couldn't help myself," he says.

"No, I like it."

You look into the fading light and see figures at the busy part of the beach in the distance. It wouldn't matter if you were publicly affectionate, no one would care. But you know if you start kissing him again, you won't want to stop.

You hear the sea breeze and then the first rainfall before you see it. It's soft and gentle but you know if you stand here for much longer that you'll catch a cold.

"Shall I take you home?" Mark asks.

You nod, feeling dazed and slightly lightheaded.

As you get into the car, Mark puts his Spotify on. 'Wait for it' by H.E.R. is first to play.

You peer over at his phone screen, it reads 'sex playlist'.

"There's no way you have a sex playlist," you laugh, pushing his arm playfully.

"Nah, it's just random," Mark bluffs, rubbing his nose in the cute way that he did.

"Well, whoever created this playlist has good taste."

"Yeah, alright, it is mine. But it doesn't mean anything," he says.

You raise an eyebrow then.

"Why doesn't it mean anything?" you ask. You don't know why you're probing but you enjoy teasing Mark, hearing him search for words to form an acceptable answer.

Mark just shrugs though, "I just like this mood...being here with you, I like it. This playlist just represents the mood."

"You're so good at bullshitting, Mark," you laugh but Mark is looking at you seriously now.

I know you on the way, but now I want it I can't take it I'm merely tryna chill, but I'm impatient Stay on my mind Can't sleep at night

“I’m being for real though. Like yesterday, I didn’t tell you but it was the first time someone’s given me head before,” he says, playing with his hoodie drawstrings.  

“What? You’ve never had a blowjob before?” you ask, eyes wide.

“I’ve only dated one girl and she straight up didn’t want anything in her mouth so nah, it was the first time and it was amazing” Mark says. 

“Well there’s a first time for everything,” you smile, feeling happy that you got to share that moment with Mark. 

You look at each other in silence again. It’s a comfortable silence but it’s heavy with intent. You both know what’s coming. 

"Y/n, you know I'm not good with words," Mark says and then he pulls you to him so that you're kissing again.

The kiss is different this time, it's slow and intense as if you're something he craves. It's the type of kiss that expresses he needs you now. His lips on yours feel so good and you kiss him back, mirroring his eagerness. Your hands are in his hair and then he bites at your bottom lip. He's gentle but it drives you crazy. His hands are travelling into your bra now.

"Mark," you whisper against his lips, "Mark we're in public."

"It's crazy, I keep wanting to kiss you," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to yours.

"I want to kiss you too, all the time," you admit.

"No one's here to see and it's dark now anyway."

You look around and Mark is right, it is dark. The rain is lashing hard against the window now, the H.E.R. track barely audible. Your breath and body heat is already steaming up the windows of the car.

"Can I touch you? I want to touch you," Mark whispers, kissing your neck.

There's no use in trying to stop, you feel your willpower disintegrating by the second. There's a desperation in Mark's voice. He's wanted this for so long, and so have you.

Before long you're a tangle of arms and legs in the backseat. Someone might find you but that prospect turns you on more than you initially thought. Your stockings and panties are pulled off and your skirt is hitched up now.

Mark hovers over you.

"Can I touch you?" he murmurs, his half-lidded eyes flick over your body.

You try to close your legs, embarrassed about being observed like this. But Mark just parts your legs with a hand, "You're so beautiful. Can I?"

You nod, you're so wet and you want to feel Mark inside you, you've needed it for so long.

Mark finds your clit easily, rubbing at it slowly but it's enough to make you wriggle underneath him.

Mark leans down to kiss you hungrily. He slips his tongue into your mouth as he continues circling your clit, faster now. You moan into the kiss and Mark bites your lip gently again. That habit he had which drove you crazy.

He breaks the kiss, still touching you and looking at you intently.

"You're so wet, do you want me that bad?" Mark teases.

You bite your lip, bucking your hips up to meet his fingers.

Mark massages you in quick circular motions. You can only focus on the sensation now, coming closer to your orgasm. Nothing matters anymore, not Mark observing your body, not the possibility of being caught by someone, nothing at all.

"Mark, Mark - please," you moan.

"Mmm?" he asks, smirking slightly.

"I want you to fuck me," you murmur, suddenly losing all inhibitions.

"But we're in public," Mark's eyes widen and you realize he's teasing you.

"Please, please fuck me, Mark."

You've never seen Mark like this before, so in control of the situation and you feel disorientated because of it.

Mark takes a condom out of his pocket then and tears it open with his mouth.

He pulls his jeans and boxers down, rolling the condom over his length. As he touches himself to adjust the condom, he suddenly looks more like his nervous, boyish self. He concentrates when he's horny and you realize how cute it is.

"I need you now, please," you whisper, feeling increasingly needy.

Mark is so soft for you, you can tell by the sudden redness of his cheeks, the begging turns him on.

"Please, Mark," you mewl, scratching lightly at his left arm propping him up over you.

Mark positions the tip against your center and you whimper at the sudden contact.

"What would the others say if they saw us like this?" Mark says.

"I don't care," you whisper, feeling even more turned on by the thought. You're not doing anything inherently bad but Mark is still your intern. Why did bad things always feel so good?

Mark’s pupils are dilated as he leans over to kiss you again, and then he slips into you without warning. You feel yourself tighten around his dick and he feels it too because he's groaning.

"Oh my god, y/n, you feel so fucking good," he moans into your mouth.

“Better than the last person you fucked in here?” you murmur.

Mark is taken aback but he clearly likes the jealous tone. He bites his lip and nods “Much better, you’re so hot, y/n.”

Mark fucks you gently, moving inside you with slow movements. His breathing hitches and he closes his eyes momentarily. 

"Mark faster," you plead, your voice filled with innocence.

Mark puts a hand on your thigh and the other grabs at your boob as he starts thrusting into you harder.

"Mm fuck," you moan, feeling him hit your sweet spot.

"D-Do you like that?" Mark whispers and you can't even nod in response. You just know he feels so good.

“Who do you think of when you touch yourself?” Mark pants between groans. So he’s thinking two can play at that game. 

“Ah - it’s you, I think of you Mark,” you moan.

He licks his fingers before placing them on your clit and rubbing once more. The combination makes you a moaning mess and you can't think of anything but your approaching orgasm.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?” he asks.

“My god, Mark” is all you can manage. 

Mark's strokes get sloppy and he has to grip at your waist with one of his hands to keep steady. Your bodies are both damp with sweat, the leather seats of Mark's car underneath you are wet. You want to melt into Mark, you want to feel like this forever.

It doesn't take you long to orgasm. With a few more slow strokes and a rub of your clit, you pulsate around Mark's dick.

"Mark, I'm  - fuck" you moan, shuddering violently with every pulse.

"You feel so fucking good," Mark grunts and his praise is enough for you to tighten around him once more. He thrusts again, groaning in your ear before he empties himself into the condom. You feel his dick twitch inside of you and pull his neck down for another kiss.

It's sloppy and needy, your tongues against each others in desperation. When Mark breaks the kiss, he collapses on top of you breathing heavily. You both lie there, trying to catch your breath. Mark's dick is still inside of you though and you can feel the warmth of it and the now filled condom.

"Shouldn't we throw the condom out?" you whisper, stroking the back of his neck.

"I like this feeling, though. Can't we just stay like this for a while?" he says and you feel shy knowing he's still inside of you, that he likes the feeling of you.

"I don't think I can keep away from you," Mark whispers into your hair.

"Me neither," you say as he props his head up to look in your eyes.

"You know yesterday I asked if you cared if people at work knew about us - did you really mean that? That you don't care?" he asks, his eyes are wide like a puppy’s and you know you're too far gone, you want Mark to be yours.

"I don't care at all, Mark", you say, stroking his hair and then his cheek.

"I'm gonna pull out now," Mark chuckles, pulling himself out of you and taking the condom off.

He pulls his boxers and jeans up and you do the same, adjusting yourself into a sitting position.

Mark opens the car to dispose of the condom. Luckily it isn't as busy as you thought outside thanks to the uninviting winter cold and darkness.

As you both get back into the front seats, you look in the mirror, fixing your hair but not bothering with your makeup, which has sweated off completely.

Mark turns to look at you, "You look beautiful, y/n. Seriously."

"Anyway why did you ask me if I care or not?" you ask, trying to change the subject because you're blushing too hard now.

Mark drives away from the parking lot and back towards Incheon bridge.

His eyes are focused on the road but you know he's thinking of what to say next. 

"I was just wondering, well, if I can see you again tomorrow. For a proper date?" Mark asks.

"We did go on a proper date, Mark, we ate seafood and walked on the beach. I loved it," you say.

Mark bites at his lip. He looks nervous as if everything he's done with you so far has lead up to this moment.

"I can't lie, I really like you. Like to the point where I want to be around you all the time," Mark murmurs and his face is going bright red again.

Your stomach is fluttering from the sudden confession and you're can't look at his face anymore. You press for him to go on, though.

"Mmm?"

"Being able to talk about normal shit, do normal things, it's made me realize how much I enjoy spending time with you. I don't even want to drop you off tonight."

He clears his throat, "I think I've fallen for you, y/n. I know I sound stupid but you wanted to hear it. I like you and you don't have to accept it, we can go back to work and forget this ever happened, go back to norm-"

"Mark," you cut him off, "I like you too. I've liked you for ages, I just didn't want to be the first to admit it."

"Why?" Mark chuckles, his eyes wide. He looks genuinely taken aback.  

"You're my intern! Why would I confess first? That wouldn't be professional," you laugh.

"Well we're past professional now," Mark admits, "But if anyone asks, I can just say I've been giving you a helping hand." He winks then and you can’t believe how easily you’ve fallen for this dork.

As you drive across Incheon bridge back to Seoul, you look out of the window and see the same stretch of sea that you saw on the way there. Except this time, the sea is not a glittering blue, it's black, barely noticeable against the wintry evening sky. The passage of time in Mark's company comforted you, it reaffirmed how much you wanted to see each subtle change of the world with him.

"And to be honest, I don't care if anyone at work knows. It's better if they do know we like each other," Mark says quietly, reaching out a hand to stroke yours instinctually.

"Yeah, they've probably guessed already. I don't mind though, half of them are fucking anyway."

Mark laughs at your candidness. "For real though, the number of times I've seen Jaemin and Jeno come out of the unused toilet together is crazy."

"Don't forget Lucas and Mina in the stock cupboard," you point out, giggling.

"We're going to have to find our own spot before they're all taken up," Mark says, his tongue poking at his cheek. He was such a tease.

You could see the first few stars sprinkled across the sky through the car windscreen. The rain had cleared and it was one of those beautiful, chilly winter nights. Still, the stars made you feel solitary.

"I don't want to be alone tonight," you admit to Mark quietly. 

Mark nods "I'll stay. So the cinema and aquarium tomorrow, how does it sound?" 

"It sounds lovely," you smile.

You see the city skyline in the distance, nothing more than a cluster of twinkling dots. You're excited, the night is young and filled heavy with promise.

[kayleezra]

How Did You Get Here? // (Frankie Morales x Reader)

Warnings; none

Word Count; 1534

Summary; You’re a university student working at a bar when a particular patron catches your attention.

You were working your normal shift as a bartender from 6 pm to 2 am. It was always quiet during the first 4 hours. 10 pm was when the crowd really picked up. So, during your spare time, you’d chat with co-workers and catch up on your textbook readings. You’re a university student and found that bartending to be the best way to earn money while also attending lectures. This place was by far our favourite. Other bars let the customers do whatever they wanted but, here the owner encourages you to put unruly customers in their place. Even the security was quick to pick out those that were about to cause a scene.

You were reading through your textbook, highlighting key points, when a group of 5 men walked in. One, in particular, caught your attention, he had longer stuffy hair hidden under a baseball cap and a moustache with matching stubble littered across his face. You quickly tucked away your book and walked over to where they sat.

“What can I get for you gentlemen?”, you ask scanning across every one of them.

A tan man with black hair sprinkled with grey and a matching 4 o'clock shadow ordered for the group.

“Shall I open a tab for you?”

“Yes, for Santiago por favor.”

Now, you weren’t fluent in Spanish but you knew the basics.

“No hay problema.”

You can’t help but notice this ‘Santiago’ and his friend gave you a slight look of shock. You went and grabbed their drinks and returned with a smirk across your face.

“I have to be honest with you guys.”

They all look at you, their attention now 100% on you.

“Yo no hablo Español pero, yo hablo Frencés.”

The man who caught your attention gives you a smirk, and before any of them get a chance to say anything you introduce yourself.

“I’m Y/N.”

The man furthest to your left is the first to speak.

“Will.”, he says while extending a hand to you which you kindly take. Introductions proceed to the right.

“Ben.”

“Tom.”

“Santiago.”

“Francisco.”

Bingo! It was Francisco. You didn’t notice that he held your hand longer than the others or that he gave you his first name and not his nickname but, Santiago sure did. Santiago was trying to get a rise out of Fish.

“Francisco huh? I thought you hated your name. You know, that’s why we all call you Catfish. Maybe it’s French accent she can use to say your name that’s got you intrigued.”

Francisco laughed him off and you and the other joined in. Because they were there before the rush you were sure to take good care of them. You told yourself you were just trying to get some good tips and not because you wanted to be close to Francisco. It was nearing 10 pm and the crowd was picking up, only Santiago and Francisco remained. It had been a while since you last checked on them but, their drinks had barely been touched and they were deep in conversation. You wanted to know what they were talking about but, you had customers to attend to. It was after midnight when Santiago flagged you down.

“I was starting to think you boys forgot about me.”

“Nah, couldn’t forget a beautiful lady like yourself. Santiago here just wouldn’t shut up.”, Francisco says and the two of you share a chuckle.

“What can I do for you two?”

“Unfortunately, this party is over.”, Santiago says with a lighthearted huff. The two of them get up from their stools.

“Okay, I’ll ring you up over there.”, you say while pointing to the nearest debit machine to your left.

You close their tabs and they pay, “Come by again, okay?”

“Don’t worry. We will.”, Santiago says with a smirk and while nudging Francisco.

You went back to their spot to clean up and found a neatly folded napkin. When you picked it up you realized it was heavier than it should have been. You opened it and found a tip but, it wasn’t the tip that grabbed your attention. Inside the napkin, there was a message that read, 'Maybe put this towards your textbooks. See you later, Sweetheart. -Francisco’. You couldn’t help but smile at the door they hand just walked out of.

The boys returned regularly. They had their own spots and came to catch up with each other. The came often enough that you knew when they came and left and even what their regular drinks. Santiago and Francisco came by more frequently than the others. You’d grown close to the group and even joined them from time to time when you weren’t working. Your affection only grew for Francisco. He started to plague your mind 24/7.

—-Present Day—-

You zoned out during your lecture. NO, it wasn’t the first time it had happened but, it was the first time that someone had caught you. Someone had been asking to borrow a pen and you hadn’t even noticed they were there until they tapped your shoulder. You jumped in surprise and apologized profusely as though they’ve caught you doing something you shouldn’t have been. This was an entirely new experience for you, your entire life you’d been focused on your education and career path. You’d never had a serious relationship because you were never looking and were preoccupied. Now, you were having a hard time focusing on anything else. The next time you see Francisco you’re going to admit your feelings, at least that’s what you told yourself. Just in spite of you, Santiago and Francisco showed up that night. Suddenly, you weren’t sure you could do it. What if he didn’t feel the same? What if all these months of back and forth flirting was all just for fun? Your entire shift you felt like you were going to vomit and you’d even eavesdrop on them. You clung to every word Francisco said like it’d be his last.

At one point during the night, Francisco left for the washroom. Santiago watched him carefully and as soon as he disappeared, he called to you. You rush over thinking something was wrong but before you can get a word out Santiago spoke.

“You like Fish right?”

Your heart fell to your stomach and you struggle to get the words out. You knew exactly what he meant but, you weren’t sure you were ready to admit it aloud.

“W-what do y-you mean?”

“C'mon. Since day one you’ve had eyes for him. You like him, enamoured with him.”

“That obvious?”

“Yes but, he feels the same so we’re staying till closing and the two of you are facing your feelings for each other.”

“Wait. I don’t know tha-”

“Yes, you can and you will. Now, scatter, he’s coming.”

You mindlessly do as your told. The shock of his words hit you hard. He feels the same? How did Santiago know about your feelings? The rest of your shift passed like a blur and you weren’t even sure when security started kicking the stranglers out. When a security guard approached Santiago and Francisco you snapped out of your trance and the weight of the world returned.

“They’re with me.”

“Alright well, they’re the only two left. I can trust you to lock up?”

“Yup, thanks again”

“No problem”

You and Francisco lock eyes, you blush as if he could see all your thoughts.

“I’ll give you two a minute. Remember what I told you, Fish.”, Santiago says while patting him on the back and making his way out. He’s at the door when he yells.

“You too Y/N.”

Then he leaves. Just you and Francisco remain.

You’d never been more nervous in your life but, you still walked around the bar and sat next to him.

“So… Santiago talked to you.”, Francisco states.

“Yeah, and you?”

He lets out a light chuckle, “Yeah. He’s always-”

You cut him off, “I like you. Like a lot. You somehow weaved your way into my heart and head. I can’t think straight and always want to be closer to you. It’s crazy because no one has ever had this effect on me, ever. I’ve barely dated but, when I look at you I just want-”

You only stop your hasty confession when his lips reach yours. You immediately kiss back, wrapping your arms around his neck while he holds your face tenderly. When you pull away, neither of you let go of each other and you reach your foreheads on one another.

“Me too.”, he says out of breath.

“Really?”

He nods before pulling you in for another kiss. You don’t think you would have pulled away if it weren’t for Santiago. He must have snuck back in because he’s at the door clapping. The moment the two of you pull away in shock he opens his mouth.

“I told you two! Looks likes you both owe me.”

You roll your eyes and giggle with Francisco.

“I may not be fluent in Spanish but, the amo Francisco.”

“Mmm. I love how you say it. You should probably say it more often because te amo mucho Y/N.”

[kominum]

semoto (corpse x fem!reader)

4 times you think tuxedo mask!corpse could be yours + 1 time you learn to stop feeding your own delusions 

pt. 1 + background info can be found here! please read for context. 

basic rundown of classic!sailor moon (anime) lore ‘creatively’ used in this two-part:

sailor moon and tuxedo mask are star-crossed lovers/soulmates that faced tragedy in a previous life. 

sailor mars (aka you/reader) had a crush on tuxedo mask’s non-hero persona, darien/mamoru, for a while 

sailor moon is the moon princess and tuxedo mask is the earth prince.  

sailor moon’s non-hero persona, usagi/serena, bickered a lot with darien/mamoru.

fem!reader // tw: death mentions, bodily injury, unrequited love to the very end, some unresolved tension. 

1. “Whaddup, baby?” 

Without much reason, you and Corpse trade off calling each other whenever a new monster is defeated. You’re figuring out all of this as much as he is, but he doesn’t have much guidance besides some supernatural force within him. He’s not taking instructions from a black cat and white cat like you and the other girls are who can help fill you in on the gaps -- all he knows is that he’s pivotal to maintaining Earth’s existence, and he’s not exactly thrilled about it.

But the calls are never about the fights, never about your secret identities. In fact, you’d be willing to bet half your grocery funds that he still hasn’t made the connection between you and your Sailor Mars persona and part of you wants to keep it that way. Sometimes you’re mentally exhausted and just want to forget about the events for the day or night, which is why you usually end up calling him soon after everyone disperses or vice versa. It’s almost instinctual these days, and you wonder how long it’ll be before you accidentally crack. 

Right now, the rule of thumb seems to be, “Never trust new flashy shops that open with no warning and have too-good-to-be-true grand opening offers.” This time, some luxurious salon opened up by a famous local hairdresser had been the said attraction. All of you weren’t ignorant enough to believe the sham, but the star of the show had taken the chance to say, “Let’s go scope it out!” when really, she wanted that free haircut. You had called her out on it, but she argued that if anything happened, then perfect, you all could take care of it right then and there. Needless to say, you do not want to be attacked by a monstrous version of Edward Scissorhands ever again. Corpse had made a dark, humorous entrance, a style he’s really adapted to because he knows it pisses Sailor Moon off, 

About an hour later, you’re home and bandaging up some cuts and rubbing salve on bruises, phone on speaker and dial tone blaring through the bathroom. You’re addressing the scrape on your knee when he picks up, a low drawl of, “Whaddup, baby?” comes through and your heart stutters.

The girls call you a number of terms of endearment: sweetie, honey, love, dear, babe, queen, but the last person to address you as ‘baby’ with any amount of affection was your ex-boyfriend.

You scoff to hide how flustered you actually are, quietly hissing as you attempt to put some Neosporin on the scrape and catch onto some stray skin. “Are you drunk?” You ask jokingly, knowing full well he wasn’t. 

“Drunk? Nah. Tired? Yeah. But that’s always.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s old news. But uh, what’s up? Been a while since we last talked.”

“We talked like...three days ago. You called me, remember?”

“Feels like forever. I like talking to you.” 

You wonder if it’s irony or plain, cruel fate that this man will probably be the death of you.

2. “Don’t lay a fucking hand on her.”

It’d been a bad day overall. Lack of sleep compiled on by a growing pile of assignments in addition to having to get your tires checked out for an air leak because your car said, “Not today, honey,” -- everything came together in torrential hurricane and the last thing you needed was to be caught fighting another force of evil.

You’re so tired.

Sailor Moon seems to have all the energy in the world as she dodges attacks left and right, but your muscles are screaming in agony. You’re constantly hunched over and panting, but looking for the right openings to weaken the monster. Luckily, the creature has its back towards you when it dashes over to Venus and you muster everything you have to summon a bow and arrow made of fire, pulling back and making sure your arms don’t quiver. 

But at the last second, your lack of oxygen gets the best of you and your flame sniper barely manages to graze the monster’s side and narrowly avoid Jupiter. It’s enough to cause a distraction, but the anger in its glare as it’s directed at you elicits surrender in your heart. There’s nothing left in your bones to help you run or hide, and your knees buckle painfully onto the concrete. Everything else hurts so bad that you’re not bothered by the sediments digging through your skin. Venus is running towards you but she’s not quick enough, and you feel your eyes begin to slip. If this is what death feels like, then so be it. You hope that the girls’ mourning will be short, that they can still complete the ultimate mission, and--

“Don’t lay a fucking hand on her,” an angered, frustrated baritone spits out and you’re torn between laughing or crying. In a separate romantic context, you’d like the idea of wholeheartedly leaving your life in his hands. But in this reality when either of you could die at any moment and the world be consumed in darkness, it’s something you would never wish upon anyone. It’s a different situation than your bonds with the girls. 

The pain is enough to send you in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes. But strong, warm arms sit you up, though they’re slightly trembling and keeping you awake. “Hey, you okay? What happened to you? You’re stronger than this.” 

“G-great way of telling me, fuckthathurts, that I was...shit today,” you joke, but hiss when you try to move your legs and the deep scrapes scream in agony. 

“Take it easy, ‘kay? Or your princess is gonna have my head--”

“Thanks man, but we got it from here,” said princess interjects, hoisting you up with the help of the other girls. “You can go.”

“Speak of the devil,” Corpse chuckles and helps make the transfer less painful, a lot less awkward jostling around. “Look, I saved her--”

“And I said thank you. We’ll see you around,” your stubborn friend dismisses. 

“You’re welcome, baby.”

“Not your baby, piss off!”

3. “I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what.”

It’s soft yet sonorous, deep yet light. Twilight hours are cast high above you both, separated by walls and buildings connected over wires and unseen forces. Technology is the sharpest, double-edged sword you’ve seen and used on this planet, because Corpse has never felt so close yet so far than in this moment. Your mind deludes you further by indulging in believing he’s right there next to you, strong arms holding you much like he did when you were on the brink of unconsciousness just two weeks ago.

Wishing, hoping, wanting. Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous.

The one year anniversary of your ex-lover’s death looms over you on another sleepless, caffeine-fueled night. It’s no surprise when his custom ringtone chimes softly throughout your room during these graveyard hours, but it certainly raises your eyebrows when after a minute or two, he asks tentatively, “Are you gonna go visit him?”

There’s no question as to who or where “him” is. You haven’t been since the funeral, if you’re honest, swept up by work, classes, and your new side job. But Corpse doesn’t know that, and you know it’d be the right thing to do. Maybe it’d help settle the storm of anxiety (or guilt?) that swirls in your gut on a daily basis. 

“I think so,” you reply quietly after a moment of silent contemplation, already thinking ahead to what the drive might be like. “He deserves better.”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

Charming, compassionate, thoughtful, absolutely too good for this world -- the three-letter affirmation nearly slips off your tongue without a second thought. You can’t risk him seeing you, putting two and two together, and potentially forever losing him to his long-lost princess. Selfish delusion creeps through your veins and you fight back the shiver of guilt that runs down your spine. 

“I think I’ll be okay. Might be a visit made best alone, but I really appreciate you even asking.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. You know I’m always gonna be there for you, no matter what. Right?”

Warmth. Strength. Oblivion. 

“I know. Thank you.”

4. “I don’t have anyone else but you.”

“Why are we doing this again?”

“Because we can’t sleep and have nothing better to do.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it,” you chuckle into your phone, free hand swirling a pot of instant ramen. “I have better things to do at 3 in the morning than watch The Poltergeist with you.” 

“Then go fucking do it,” Corpse laughs teasingly. 

“And leave you high and dry? I don’t have the heart.”

“I mean, you really don’t have to--”

“Seriously, I was awake anyways. Just giving you shit.”

“One of these days, you’re gonna fucking regret it.”

Ramen done and lamp on, you snuggle beneath your blanket and start the traditional countdown to pressing ‘play’ on the movie. Neither of you really had the technology to screen share on this Discord call (your laptop is almost on its last leg and your apartment WiFi can be spotty at times), so it seemed better this way. 

The next roughly 2 hours are filled with laughter, small jump scare yelps, and quiet yelling at the ignorance and twisted logic of horror movie characters. But towards the end of the movie (and arguably the climax), your eyelids start to droop, body succumbing to the warmth of your bed. The screaming and cheesy, orchestrated music are all background noise as your breathing evens out, shifting in and out of consciousness. Ending credits roll on screen before you know it, and the only think that rips you awake is Corpse’s gentle calling of your name. 

“Sorry, fell asleep,” you murmur tiredly and squint at your screen, languidly closing out the window and letting the Discord window take precedence. “Tells you how riveting I found this movie.”

“Should’ve just let you sleep, my bad,” he chuckles. “Thanks for staying up with me.” 

“Yeah of course -- I wanted to, just got a little sleepy. Wanna watch another one?”

“ ‘m actually gonna try to sleep. Don’t wanna bother you too much. You got work tomorrow?”

“Not ‘til noon so it’s okay. You sure?” 

“Yeah...yeah. I’ve only had like...3 hours of sleep lately. Fucking awful.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“You do enough by just letting me call at the fucking crack of dawn, seriously.”

“I’m your only option, let’s be real,” and your voice is a mix of fatigue, humor, and some bitter sardonicism. There’s no malice intended, and you really hope it’s conveyed accurately. 

“...I don’t have anyone else but you,” he all but murmurs. Your heart clenches painfully, anxiety and fear and love surging through your lungs. Those words don’t hold the connotation you desperately wish for, but what matters most is that he knows he’s not alone and you’re not the only one he’s got. You verbalize as such and he only hums back in a façade of agreement before wishing you a good night. 

And sometimes, while you do know that your girls have your back and that you love them to death and would take a bullet for them any day, there are nights where you really do feel the same.

That you have no one else but Corpse. 

5. “He was never yours.”

There’s nothing you hate more than psychological monsters. You’d probably take physical pain over mind games any day because at least, it’d heal faster to some degree, or there would be a more surefire way of minimizing symptoms. But sometimes, there are days when the egotistical chess players of hell come to wreck havoc on the world, and you get lost in their trap. It’s annoying, a pain in the ass, and affects you a lot more than it should at times. 

This particular instance makes you want to quit. It makes you, Sailor fucking Mars, guardian of the planet of fire and passion and perseverance, leave all of this behind right here and now. You’ve never hated yourself more for feeling so weak. 

You’re not sure what to call it -- altered dimension, distorted reality -- but all you know is that you and the princess are kept in separate cages hanging from an endless ceiling, labelled as baits for tuxedo mask/Corpse to come. The enemy lets you both stew in the confines of the metal, watching with glee as your partner attempts to cut through the rails with her tiara and ultimately fail. It seems they’ve thought of everything because you’re not their #1 enemy today. Or maybe you are. You’re not sure anymore, even as they launch into villainous speech. 

“Nothing brings me more joy than watching you lose all your energy to fight, both physically and mentally. I’ve seen all your dreams and wishes. Nothing’s more fickle and double-edged than love, no? We shall see who the prince really belongs to.”

Mention of the prince has you snapping your head to meet the enemy’s eyes, slowing squinting as they catch yours and begin cackling like your demise is racing at the speed of an oncoming train. Your princess looks confused, but dread is heavy mercury filling your veins because you know, you know, your best held secret is coming to fruition. 

“What the fuck are they talking about?” She hisses across the void. 

“I don’t know,” you lie through your teeth, eyes flicking toward every corner of the cage now to find a way out. This isn’t how you wanted it to happen, much less happen at all. 

“Are they talking about Corpse?”

“Is there any other prince they’re referring to?”

“Do you always have to be a smartass with me?”

“Somebody’s got to,” you allow yourself a slight reprieve of laughter. It’d be dumb to try to set fire to this thing, knowing you’d only burn yourself in the process. Your exorcism tags also have no use and you can hear the clock ticking down in your mind. 

“Think it’s pretty fucking rude to keep a couple of girls in cages, not gonna lie,” a baritone voice cuts through. It sends temporary sparks of relieve down your spine. Perhaps you’ll have a fighting chance to get out of here. 

“Welcome, welcome! I’d like to get straight to the point, but maybe we’ll up the stakes a little bit before you answer my question,” they tease cartoonishly and you want to roll your eyes.

“Is this a fucking test--”

Both you and sailor moon yelp as the cages drop into a miraculously (or not) appearing large body of water, but still hanging just above the surface so you have enough air to breathe. You look out and down to see how deep this pit is, and though it might be some elaborate illusion seemingly defying all laws of physics, you see nothing but descending darkness. You don’t even have to hear the question to know what the enemy is going for, to know that they’re trying to hit you where it hurts the most, and you loathe how cliché and goddamn unfair this whole situation has turned out to be. 

“So, dear prince. Pretend that the fate of the world depends on the princess. Before you are just two girls you know and care for, stuck, captured, and on the brink of drowning. You may only save one. Who would it be?”

It’s fucked up. Corpse seems stunned, perplexed by the question. “What the absolute fuck is this? Just let them go if you had an issue with me.”

“Quite frankly, I have an issue with allof you, so this is only fair. Now, what’s your answer?”

Corpse catches your eyes first. Is it from the water that your eyes seem to be brimming with unshed tears? Is it stubbornness or defeat in the way your hands clench around the cage bars?

And this is why, once again, you hate enemies who strictly play mind games. Confirmation that Corpse would never love you the way you do him, knowledge to the princess that she’s the source of your deepest unhappiness despite the bickering friendship, realization to Corpse that the girl he’s treasured so dearly and maybe unknowingly kept as a bit of a placeholder was doomed to love him -- pain on all of you, lashes and scars on what was once believed to be unbreakable bonds, as soon as the villain explains it all with sick glee. 

“Do I have to give you an answer?”

“If you don’t, I’ll really consider drowning them since I honestly wasn’t before.”

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“Ah, just to make things a little more interesting -- I’m aware you and the princess speak regularly outside of all this.”

They what? This was certainly news to you. 

“And?” Corpse asks somewhat defensively. 

Don’t say it. Don’t tell him. Please don’t--

“Say Mars, don’t you enjoy those late night calls with him, too? Though I must say, meeting in a hospital while your ex-boyfriend is having life-altering emergency surgery seems rather morbid in its own respect.”

You don’t have to look at him to know and hear the gears turning in his brain, the villain allowing this brief silence to let everything sink in. There’s a disbelieving whisper of your name, your real name, but he’s cut off from saying anything more. 

“You have 10 seconds.” 

You know the stories. You know the couple’s tragic end in their previous lifetime. You know that as much as the princess denies feeling anything but annoyance towards Corpse, she looks forward to seeing him. There’s a certain softness that he treats her with, different from the platonic affection that he showers you in. You’ve lied to yourself for too long. 

The countdown has no chance to finish when Corpse spits out a name that’s not yours, your eyes squeezing shut to fight back the tears that threaten to flood over. Everything disappears and you land on your butt -- a quick sweep of your surroundings registers two things: Corpse running over to your princess and the villain standing proudly at the chaos they’ve created. It’s instinct that has brings your powers to surface, arms and fingers quickly notching a fiery arrow with pinpoint aim at the imaginary target on their head. “Move!” You yell at the two and they scramble to gather their bearings and avoid your rage. 

They don’t run or cower. The maniacal grin only grows wider and more sinister and you’re this close to screaming expletives. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it, to know that he was never yours?”

It’s the last thing they say before you release the arrow, watching with no remorse as they burn and disintegrate. When the dust disappears and the dimension shifts back to some abandoned building with an exit, you run. 

You run until your lungs burst, until they scream over the aching of your heart, until your costume dissolves and you’re finally buried under the blankets. You turn on ‘Do Not Disturb’ and only allow notifications from a select few important numbers.

And maybe you’ll keep running. Maybe you’ll go off the grid. Maybe you’ll let your voicemail inbox fill up with unheard messages, apologies that you don’t and never will deserve. 

But the love you feel and cherish will never fade. It’ll run alongside you; a bright, burning star, forever bittersweet--

Forever out of reach. 

[youalexturnermeon]

Chasing the Past Pt. 1(Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Request by Anon: Could I please get a Johnny Lawrence imagine where he and the reader (who is daniels sister) are secretly dating. Maybe like an old flame back in the 80s and now they reconnected?

A/N: Soo, I decided to split this int two parts since I think nobody wants to read 56746 trillion words in one go on here. This is set about 7 years after Karate Kid and Y/N and Johnny hooked up again. Please let me know if you’re up to part 2

Warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol, drugs and sex, reader is of age

Wordcount: 1709

It felt odd to be back again. After all it has been more than five years ago since you set foot onto the Los Angeles’ ground for more than just Christmas or a weekend since you moved to New York. Your mom and Daniel stayed in LA and it looked like a forever solution for them, but unlike your family you were never bound to California. And yet after going to college in New York City and working there for two years the tables have turned and you lost your job. And since New York was a pricy city you had no other way than moving back to your family for a few months before you found another job. You could either stay with your slightly neurotic mom or with your over-protective brother. And although the decision was tough at first because you love both of them as much as they went on your nerves, you decided to stay at Daniel’s last minute. After all, only two years separated you and you had a lot in common.

“What are you doing tonight, (Y/N)?” Daniel asked you as you unpacked the last bit of your suitcase “Because I thought, since it’s your first day back home, we could maybe go out for Sushi.”

“Oh Danny” you sighed and laughed “Are you still not over your Karate and Japan obsession?”

Even with you being the long grown-up younger sibling you still loved to mock your brother. He stuck his tongue out and gave you a light shove.

“Fuck you!”

You shoved him back and then he shoved you again, going back and forth like 10-year olds until eventually you both got tired of it and started laughing.

“No seriously, do you have any plans or – “

“Probably going to a party on the beach, like the old times, catch up with some old friends, Linda asked me. I’m actually leaving in about an hour. We can go tomorrow” you answered casually und started picking out a suitable outfit, you never knew who you could be running in from the past.

“I never understood what you all had with the parties on the beach. They’re lame” “Just because you got your ass kicked during a beach party ‘cause you just couldn’t stand not being the centre of attention for once and simply had to play a noble hero, doesn’t mean the parties are lame” “And just because you had the biggest crush on Lawrence since that day doesn’t mean I was wrong for protecting Ali”

Daniel tried to mock you; but you could hear how hurt he was still, thinking back of his teenage years filled with rivalry and heartbreak. You tried to hide a laugh, if he’d also knew that you and Johnny Lawrence hooked up a couple of weeks before you went to college, he’d probably just kill himself out of pity.

“Still hurts, huh, Danny?” you voiced immediately, and he just shrugged it off.

“Just be careful later, okay? I can also pick you up if you want to.” “I’m not 15 anymore, you don’t have to pick me up. You can also just come with me.” “Nah” Daniel shook his head, “I never liked your friends”

“Your loss, it’s never too late to deal with your past” you joked. When your brother left the room, you put on a tight crop top, slipped in your jean shorts and tied a sweater around your hips in case it got cold. You thought, you looked great – you were ready to go.

____

At first, it felt even weirder to be included in your old friend group that it was being back in L.A. But with the alcohol flowing and joints passing and dancing and talking and goofing around it became more and more natural. You weren’t teenagers anymore; you were all young adults and yet if felt like being 16 all over again. Reconnecting felt great. Maybe after all these years of you telling yourself that you didn’t need California and all the people belonging there, convincing yourself that not one cell in your body longed after the warm climate and carelessness, you finally understood that it was a big lie you told yourself. You missed Reseda and you missed all your friends. With all the sentiment finally catching up after five years of chasing you plus the booze and the exhaustion, you had to take a moment for yourself. You took a short walk along the beach and stood there with your feet being caressed by the waves. You drunkenly smiled to yourself, you could finally be happy again.

“(Y/N) fucking LaRusso!”, you suddenly heard a familiar voice behind you which immediately pulled you right out of your thoughts, “Am I dreaming or is that really the girl that broke my heart?”

You didn’t even have the chance to turn around, you were promptly spun around by strong muscular arms and landed in a tight and warm embrace. A natural laugh echoed through the night. You inhaled the familiar scent of the person with the even more familiar voice and when you looked up you saw this face that could’ve been an angel’s if it wasn’t for the bright blue eyes filled with all the mischief in the world. He looked older than the last time you have seen him, his face was more edged than five years ago; and you might’ve been imagining it; but he also got a little taller.

“Johnny!” you shrieked and wrapped your arms even tighter around him “What are you doing here?”

“A little birdie told me the better LaRusso in back in town and I decided to go and see for myself. Since I couldn’t get a hold of you in over five years. It seems like you have been avoiding me at all costs, no letters, no calls, no visits. And it was successful until now.”

He let go of you and stepped back to get a better look at you. You, too, have changed a lot but now you were the hottest girl in town for Johnny.

“Now you can’t escape me”

“To be honest, I have been avoiding everybody since I moved to New York. I didn’t think Johnny Lawrence had a heart in the first place and especially not one to break it” you said; and you bluntly took his hand and started dragging him back to the gathering where everybody still was drinking and dancing “Let’s go have a drink and catch up”

“What do you mean, you didn’t know if I had a heart and that you broke it” he laughed and devotedly let himself being hauled behind you. He would let you do anything to him, right now. He missed you and never wanted this moment to end.

“At first, the little LaRusso seduces me, gives me some kind of victory over the shit LaRusso, gifts me the best month of my life with the best sex of my life and without a word disappears to the other side of the country. This shattered my little heart into pieces”

“Fuck off, Johnny Lawrence” you grinned “As if this somehow tickled you in any sense. Let’s just get drunk and forget about it”

Johnny was hurt you didn’t believe him because for once he did not lie about this. You leaving, really left him all broken for a few weeks and he still loved to remember the time you spent together. But since this was ancient history now, he was okay with just getting drunk with you.

“Hey guys, look what the cat dragged in” you loudly exclaimed when you and Johnny, still holding your hand, arrived in midst of all the partying people “Johnny fucking Lawrence! Can you fucking believe this???”

“That Johnny Lawrence you were crushing on since you first saw him kicking your brother’s ass?” Linda, your oldest friend from high school, the one who took you to that party, asked sarcastically whilst handing you and Johnny red cups filled with booze. You excitedly nodded.

“Yeah, I was the one who told him that the less famous (Y/N) LaRusso is back”

“No way!” you shrieked and threw your lightly drunken self on Linda, hugging her “Thank you!”

“Jesus, I didn’t know, (Y/N) would be that happy to see me” Johnny whispered to Linda when you let go of her and shifted your attention to other friends wanting to know about you and the infamous Johnny Lawrence who still seemed to be a star amongst all although everyone finished high school years ago.

“To be honest, I thought she’d jump on my throat just like her big brother if she sees me here”

“Don’t worry, I got her drunk enough before you arrived” Linda said.

“Thank you!” Johnny mouthed; he was the happiest he had been in years. He took a deep breath and spun you around, so for the second time today you laded directly in his embrace which now turned into a dance. And to be fair, the night couldn’t get any better for you either. Johnny and you laughed and talked and drank and danced, getting closer and closer to each other with every song. And the rest of the night turned into a big wonderful blur.

___

The first thing you noticed when you woke up was your terribly aching head. You didn’t even open your eyes yet and you already knew how terrible of a hangover that would be. You tried not to move but even the slightest motion that involved nothing more than breathing shot a bullet of pain right to your brain. Finally, when you dared to slightly open your eyes you realized that your head was resting on a muscular chest, softly falling and rising. You were not alone and were not in your bed and especially not in Daniel’s apartment. Curiously you lifted the covers that were lazily thrown over two bodies and a silent “FUCK” escaped your lips. You were completely naked and the athletic man on whose chest you were resting was too bare ass naked.

“Fuck!” you whispered again; and you would’ve had laughed if you knew that it wouldn’t cause you any pain and blurry glimpses of the night came suddenly back to you.

Click for Part 2

[sadachmesarthim]

yes this is a rewrite, feel free to fry my ass on anon about it.

content: starker being mean to each other, peter parker has Supportive Friends™, tony has daddy and mommy issues, quentin beck is a Mean Boss™, smoking, secondhand smoke.

word count: 3.0k

square filled: coffee shop au  -> link to playlist here

part two is here!

a little vocab lesson before continuing: mobster = really high up in the chain of command for this group of coffee shops. they go around training new hirees, and often decide who gets to move up the line of command. they get to travel on company money, and are very well respected in the workplace. mobsters usually come in groups - siblings, hires from the same groups, etc. 

Tony didn't like Richland.

Sure, okay, it was a serious step up from Federal Way. He was free from his parents, he could do whatever he wanted in a house all to himself, no one knew who he was - it was a refreshing change, one he definitely needed now that he was graduated, all grown up.

He'd moved back east about two months ago. He'd wanted to get as far away from home as possible, stretch his legs - he went under the guise of missing his grandma, wanting to go to school. He wasn't a terrible liar, either. Howard and Maria'd eaten it up, encouraging him to go as soon as he could.

"If you go now, you could get there in time for summer classes. Maybe even get a job before they stop hiring seasonally. You never know, but you might as well try!"

So here he was. Still jobless, still not yet enrolled in school. Enjoying his time in the (now autumn) sunshine, biding his time before he ran out of money. He'd planned well - he had enough cash to keep him covered for a while, as long as he didn't go blowing it.

He'd blown it.

He was a sucker for good coffee, though, and he missed Outback. He'd worked at one back home for almost a year before he left, and now... now, it was like an itch he couldn't scratch - he needed the interaction, needed to go make friends. He was too much of a social butterfly.

Yet again, he found himself in his truck, on the way to the nearest stand. He was pathetic, really. Here he was, wasting more money on coffee, when he could be out hiking or climbing or... literally doing anything else.

He knew it was worth it the second he pulled in. The cutest kid was running lines that day - shorts hugging his tight ass deliciously, in a way Tony knew his operator would get in trouble for if a Mobster or Coach saw.  Christ, they lettin' just anyone work here now, that it?

He had to keep his thoughts to himself, though - the kid had just finished the cars in front of him, and was headed straight for Tony, iPad in hand. He took a breath, putting on his best poker face. He needed a fucking cigarette.

"Hey handsome! Welcome to Outback, what're we drinkin' today?" Shit, he's cute. All bright and cheery - it might be fake, sure, customer service voice and all - but boy, did he play the part well. All big eyes and wide smile. He looked up at Tony expectantly, right hand hovering over the screen of the runner iPad. Shit, he still has to order something.

"Hi, just a small iced white vanilla breve please." Tony watched as the kid pressed a few spaces on the tablet, shocked at how fluidly he moved. Tony'd never seen him at this location before, but he obviously knew what he was doing. Location transfer, maybe? Mobster? He wasn't sure.

"Perfect! I've got you in - anything else, love?" God, he was too much. There's no way this was just the sickly facade Outback enforced - no, this was all him. "Nah, I'm okay. I'm paying card today, too." He reached his hand out for the tablet, wanting to tip this kid specifically.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, this card reader's broken. The one up at the window's working though! My girl Maia'll be up there waiting for you!" He turned with a smile, skipping off to the next car.

Jesus, who was this kid? And what did Tony have to do to see him again?

•|||•

Return an application, apparently.

Maia, the girl at the window, had let him know that they were hiring. He didn't have to feign interest - he had relevant experience, could work his way up if he needed to - and he'd get to see the mystery boy again. She'd ran and grabbed a small stack of papers for him, which he dutifully filled out and brought back a couple of hours later.

The closing shift lead had briefly interviewed him, practically giving him the job on the spot. Apparently she'd met his sister on a Mob trip, before - it paid to have connections, but damn... someone in town already knew who he was. Oh well. Not a big deal. These were still new people, fresh faces - he could make a clean reputation for himself, a fresh start...

It was exactly what he needed. And if he needed to use a bit of his influence with his sister to get it... so be it.

•|||•

"Emma, please, just... don't be a dick when he calls you. I need this job, it'll be good for m-"

"Save it, Tony. I don't want your excuses. If I say I'll do it, will you leave me alone?" She was being unusually short with him. Fuck. She and Rhodey were fighting again.

"Yes, yes, anything. Thank you so much." He was met with a bored sigh.

"Whatever, dude. I'll put in a good word. Talk to you later." She hung up before he could say anything else. Whatever - it wasn't the worst conversation he'd had with his sister, but it left a lot to be desired.

They hadn't been doing well since she & Rhodey got together. It was on-again-off-again... and they were honestly both to blame. Neither one of them was good at commitment, and it showed.

It put strain on both of their relationships with Tony, and didn't do much to help keep him in Federal Way. He sought comfort in the isolation of a new town, but it didn't seem to be helping anything.

Leaving never did, but it was really all he knew how to do.

•|||•

Peter hadn’t been at Outback long, but he’d enjoyed every minute of it.

He’d gotten hired almost immediately after graduation, not wanting to waste a second of his summer not making money. It was a bit of a difficult transition - he wasn’t a big fan of Beck, his boss, and training was really overwhelming. But after he’d hit that twelve week mark... it’s like something just clicked.

He was a whiz on bar, he was making friends right and left. He and Maia’d even gone to get tattoos together a couple weeks ago during a flash sale. He was getting faster and faster at running cars, he knew almost all of his regular customers. He genuinely felt like part of the family.

That didn’t really change when Beck hired a new group, either. There weren’t too many of them, helping keep their group small. They’d been spending a bit of time in the stand here and there, going over the rules, the ins and outs of making coffee, taking their menu test.

The three he was introducing today seemed okay enough. He just barely caught the tail end of Beck's “congrats on becoming a full employee” monologue before the man set the fresh meat loose. Not that they could really go far - it was maybe a good spit's distance from corner to corner. But, if it helped them get their bearings...

He was pulled from his thoughts before they could take off too far. “Hey, Parker! Come say hi to the green beans!”

•|||•

The red haired girl was nice enough. They'd introduced themselves, exchanged snap usernames, gushed over Peter's tattoos, and bonded over the typical new job anxiety. He'd forged a sweet new friendship with Bri, and was hopeful she'd stick around. He'd seen people like her get chewed up and spit out in this industry, and he liked her.

The tall guy... was pretty boring, actually. He stayed on his phone for the majority of the introduction, opting to ignore Peter entirely. It was fine - he'd probably be gone by the end of the month. Not like they’d miss him - he barely passed his menu test, from what Peter’d overheard.

Then came Mr. Short, Dark, and Brooding - Tony, apparently - Peter remembered him from a few weeks ago. He’d given Peter a poorly concealed once-over, tried to take the runner iPad from right out of his hands... if he wasn’t so attractive, Peter’d pin him for a fuckboy.

Despite how much he looked like he’d wanted to back then, when given the opportunity, he didn’t really engage with Peter. He apparently wasn’t the type to keep eye contact, go in for a hug, make small talk. 0 for 2. Disappointing. Oh well. That’s fine - Peter was perfectly content as the only guy at this location (sans Beck, of couse). Too much testosterone didn’t foster a healthy working environment, and they all knew it.

The girls, especially. They all gushed over Peter - apparently being the token gay guy in the stand somehow made him exempt from the targetted harassment. Nearly every guy they’d hired had left within 9 months - coffee was definitely a female-dominated field.

Peter was excited to see how these two fared.

•|||•

The tall guy was gone within a week. Didn’t even leave notice, just up and stopped showing up to his shifts. Not that it was the end of the world - he was still in his probationary period, so he wasn’t even making tips. No sweat off Peter’s back.

Bri did really well, in comparison. Beck was unusually strict with her - lashing out during her initial first shifts, generally being a hardass. It was unnecessary, and everyone knew it - Peter often found himself having fridge or bathroom meetings with her to help calm her down. But she kept showing up, kept trying, and after a few weeks she was doing just as well as Peter and the rest of them.

Tony was even better. Peter’d heard through the grapevine that he’d worked at a different location when he was still in school. Why he had to go through training again was lost on Peter - Beck tended to be thorough when it came to these kinds of things, but Tony was arguably more experienced than some of Peter’s coworkers...

Apparently, it’s because he wasn’t one to play nice.

•|||•

It took them quite a while to work together. Peter’d found himself getting the shit end of the schedule, working 7-1s religiously. It was by far his least favorite shift - dealing with the morning and lunch rushes were nothing, if not exhausting. But he pushed through, and finally got a say in what he worked - a very comfortable 5 - close.

Tony seemed to fill the between-shift gap - 2-8 was his jam. He liked working later, but still getting home before dark. Apparently being a newbie meant drawing the short straw sometimes -

And the short straw just so happened to be barring with the twink from a few weeks ago.

He hadn’t been... avoiding him. Tony just... didn’t like the way he worked. Peter was flighty, always moving. It irked him... he was just so much, it made Tony’s head hurt. If he wasn’t so engaging he might actually piss Tony off - but he knew the kid had nothing but good intentions, and that made it bearable.

It didn’t translate to the bar, though.

It seemed nearly impossible for them to work well together. Tony’d been assigned the milk station for the last three hours of his shift - a long stretch, but nothing he hadn’t done before. Peter was on shots almost the entire time. Poor kid.

Tony’s sympathy ran dry when they actually began working. They were almost always on top of each other - Peter crowding his space and trying to do too much. It grated on Tony’s every nerve, made it difficult to function. Peter didn’t seem to notice at all - or if he did, he didn’t care.

It came to a head when Peter went for the fridge. 

It was a pretty well-known rule that the person on shots doesn’t reach for the fridge. Not only was it too far away from their position on machine, it requires them to go behind their bar partner, which is dangerous in a shop this small. Hot liquids, ice, sugar... they can cause spills, burns, falls... 

So of course this dumbass goes for the fridge. Opens the door. Grabs a can of cold brew with his bare hands before turning back around. 

And running into Tony face first. 

This would have been fine if it were literally anything other than a cold brew. This would have been fine if Tony wasn’t holding a fresh drink! But no - the universe lined things up just right, laid out the most well-planned disaster. 

As they made contact, Peter’s hands flew up in shock, dropping the very pressurized can. It exploded as it hit the concrete, spraying nitrogen and foam-y coffee all over them. This caused Tony to let go of the drink in his hand, coating both of their lower halves in hot, sticky milk. 

It was picturesque, the mess they made. 

Tony looked up at Peter in absolute shock. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Why were you in the fridge?!” 

“I was just trying to help! You were busy, I figured I could-” Tony cut him off before he filled the stand with more hot air. Not in the mood for his bullshit excuses. 

“I don’t care how busy you think I am - you ask before doing something outside of your station. Do you understand me?” The look in his eye was one Peter’d never seen before - it probably should have scared him, but frankly, it just made him angrier. 

“Who do you think you are to be giving me orders?” He was huffy, he could feel his cheeks burning red. He was an angry crier, and knew he was struggling to control his face. 

“My sister’s a Mobster. I think I know what I’m doing.” Oh. That explained it - his experience, his proficiency on bar... why he was such a dick. Peter’d never met a Mobster he liked, and if this guy was related to one... shit just made sense. 

•|||•

He spent the remaining few hours of Tony’s shift hiding in the back. They were better off separated, and neither complained. Tony could handle himself up front, and Peter was productive enough. He had chores to do, dishes to finish, the closing list to start... Getting an early start benefitted everyone. 

By the time 8 rolled around, the atmosphere in the stand had relaxed. They’d both had a chance to clean up, the girls on window had helped ease the tension with casual conversation. Bri had been running, and Peter spent plenty of time in the back with her, hushed enough to avoid the ears a few feet away. 

“I don’t see why he gets to walk all over us. You’ve been here longer, and the attitude isn’t necessary.” She was sitting on the edge of the sink, goldfish making their way to her mouth between words. “You know I don’t like him. I don’t see why you keep trying to be nice.”

Peter sighed. He knew she was right. “I just... I don’t want anyone here to feel left out, or like I did at the beginning. Beck can be mean... I want all of you to feel welcome.” It wasn’t a lie, either - he’d made a point to make everyone feel at home, to make this stand a family. Until Tony showed up, he’d been doing a great job. 

“I know buttercup. Just... don’t go bending over backward for someone that won’t even look you in the eye.” With that she hopped down, ready to clock out. 

Tony shuffled past them both, excited to do the same. Maia’d taken over the bar for him, alleviating him just before the four minute window was up. He didn’t even excuse himself, just inserting himself in their personal space without concern. 

Bri shot Peter a look before she left. Talk to him! 

He opted for bravery. He deserved an apology for Tony’s harsh words earlier today, and he was going to get it. 

He checked the cameras before walking back, making sure Maia wasn’t gonna wind up swamped if this took longer than necessary. Tony was collecting his things - he had to do this fast. 

“Hey, listen.” Tony looked up, unamused. “I know we didn’t exactly have a good shift, and yeah I’m partly to blame for that... but Beck doesn’t really vibe with hostility, and the girls...” 

Tony cut him off halfway through. “What, it makes them uncomfortable? They don’t like it when a man takes charge, has a little outburst? Sheesh, y’all really are a mess.” What the fuck?

“Okay, seriously. I tried to be nice. You owe me, and the rest of us, a serious apology for today, or I’m going to Quentin about it. It’s not that hard to say you’re sorry, Tony.” Good job Parker, firm boundaries. 

“I’m sorry? Sorry for what, doing my job? Fuck that, man. I’m out of here.” He opened the door and left, skipping past an oncoming car and heading toward his own. 

Peter followed him. It was stupid, sure - but he needed to assert himself here. This was his stand, his home - and he was damned if he was going to let some... some asshole trample all over his home like this.

He caught up to Tony quickly, stopping him before he could open the driver’s door. “Why are you such an asshole? The girls are obsessed with you, you clearly have a leg up against everyone else in your group. There’s no reason for you to be acting like this, dude. You’ve been here all of what, a month?” 

Tony took a long drag from his cigarette before answering. “I don’t have to explain myself to you. Now be a good little closer, and run inside. Finish your shift.” He exhaled the smoke into Peter’s face, getting into his car and driving away without another word. 

What a douchebag. 

[marveloussupernerd]

Miss Trustfund Kid - Zen x Han!MC

Chapter 2 - Dinner Nerves

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

Masterlist | Previous | Next

Synopsis: The younger sister of Jumin Han. An actor and model who thought he wanted nothing to do with the family. But you’re... different. And he could actually picture a life with you? If he wasn’t such an asshole

You were pacing the conference room nonstop. A negotiation dinner? Just sitting down with Zen to sign the papers made you want to throw up. You weren’t good at this

But what were you going to do? Jaehee had made reservations for the nice restaurant nearby, you were all dressed, you had sent Zen the information...

Jumin knocked on the door to the room, making you jump visibly. “Did I scare you?” He asked, closing the door quietly behind him.

You buried your face in your hands. “I messed it up, Jumin. He didn’t sign. He wants to talk more about it tonight.”

Jumin sighed, leaning against the conference table. “He’s always difficult. I didn’t think he’d be so bad for you, though. I’m sorry.”

“I’ve never done a negotiation dinner. This is so out of my league.”

He glanced over at you, eyes scanning your features. “You’re really stressed, huh?”

You pouted. “I just don’t like feeling like I’ve let you and dad down.”

He sighed, pushing himself off the table and wrapping you into a hug. “You’re not letting us down. You want me to go instead? I’ll whip him into shape.”

“I wanna go... I really do. But I’m just incompetent. And I messed it up already. I think I’d be better staying back and doing other work.” You felt dejected, but you had messed this up enough already. You didn’t want to risk the deal falling through because of you.

“Okay. Don’t worry about it.” He looked down at you. “You did great. Don’t feel bad.”

“I’m sorry...” you apologized again. Jumin just gave you a soft smile and excused himself, having to get ready for his dinner.

You settled down and got back to work, trying to avoid thinking about the situation. Hours passed, you absolutely refusing to look at your phone and trying to absorb yourself into your work to forget about the whole situation.

A knock sounded on the door, much later. The office that had once been lit up by the blue sky, now was illuminated only by the moon and the flourescent ceiling lights. You glanced at your phone: 9:17. Then at the door. You were surprised to see the model back, waiting for your beckoning to come in.

You stood up to meet him by the door. “Hi, come on in. I’m sorry I skipped out on our dinner; to be honest, I’m not fully confident in the negotiation sort of thing.” You flashed him an apologetic smile.

He chuckled. “I’m sorry for making you panic. I thought I was being upfront, but sometimes I just can’t get my point acros. I was actually just trying to ask you to dinner.” He pulled a bag of food from behind his back, holding it out in front of him. “Have you eaten yet?”

Oh. You were an idiot. You felt heat rushing to your face: you were pretty bad at picking up on those sorts of signs, huh? “I’m so sorry!” You buried your face in your hands. “I’m so stupid. Yes. I’d love to have dinner with you.”

“Good.” He strolled over to the table, taking a seat next to the one you had been working at, laying out the burgers and French fries he had gotten. “It’s nothing like the place we were supposed to go to, but still.”

“You went there anyways!” You giggled, happily taking some of the fries.

“Yeah, but I got out of there as quickly as possible when I saw who I had to meet with. You sent Jumin after me? Really? I’m hurt.” He held his chest in fake pain.

You shrugged unapologetically. “Well, he’s the one who signed me up to do this, so it was his job to clean up my supposed mess.”

“I thought you were ghosting me.”

“No! I’m just really bad at picking up signals. My relationship and flirting life has been very dry,” you explained, looking down at your food, embarrassed to admit it.

“Really? But you seem so fun to be around.”

You shook your head. “People take one look at me and run for the hills. I can’t say I blame them though. Everyone thinks I’m stiff and intimidating and snobby.”

“You genuinely look like none of the above. You seem like a nice, beautiful, down to earth person.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet,” you grinned, unable to hide the smile on your face.

The room fell into a comfortable silence for a minute, the two of you focusing on your food. You decided to break it and get to know him better. “So, do you have any siblings?” Obviously you had one, that went without saying, but you wondered if he was an only child or if he had to share the spotlight too. You could see either case.

“I have an older brother, yeah, but I’m not really on good terms with my family...”

“That sucks. I’m sorry about that. Could I ask why?”

You were afraid of him shutting you down, but he just looked at you and smiled. “Well, they’re really well educated and they didn’t really support my dreams to be an actor, so...”

“Oh. My family’s chaotic and all but they’ve always supported my career goals, so that’s nice. I’m sorry your situation is so different.”

You finished up your food, throwing the empty containers into the bag and throwing it away.

“Thank you for bringing me food. Sorry I’m embarrassingly bad on picking up your cues earlier. It was really sweet of you to come see me,” you told him. Nobody had ever gone out of their way for you. They just wanted you for the status or the money — well, it was quite possible he was the same, but he didn’t feel like it. You hoped you were right.

“Of course.” He stood up from his spot. “Uh, now I’m always a gentleman, but I’m not gonna lie, I’m super attracted to you and I would love to give you a kiss good night.” His ears were tinted red at his own statement, but his eyes met yours, no fear or hesitation in them.

You giggled. He was just so cute and chivalrous? This was probably a bad decision. “Of course you can.”

He cupped your cheek, leaning in close. He smelled like peppermint. His nose brushed against yours, taking his time to place his lips on yours.

“Miss Han, I hate to interrupt, but you have a call on line one,” Jaehee stated, standing awkwardly in the doorway and rubbing her arm.

You jumped back from Zen. “Oh! Thank you!” Flustered, you went over to the desk and picked up the phone, sending an apologetic glance over to Zen.

“Hello,” you started the call, grabbing your notebook and planner just in case you needed it, “this is Y/N Han.”

“Hi! Sorry for the late call. This is James Amei from NovaTech. I was looking over our contract and found something we wanted to talk over.”

“Oh! It’s no problem. I’m working late as always anyways. We’ll get you in here as soon as possible to discuss...” you glanced up at Zen, who was still standing where you left him, a look on his face that you couldn’t quite read. “Uh, how’s Tuesday at 2:30?”

A pause. “That’s great. Thank you so much.”

“No problem!” You flipped through your book. “Have a great rest of your night, and tell Shannon I said hi!”

He bid you good night then hung up. You looked back over to Zen. “Sorry about that. The work never ends.”

He was still blank faced, staring at you. You looked down at your hands, trying to figure out what the issue was.

“Oh! I write down details about all the people I correspond with in my journal. It’s nice to recall little things about them, like his wife or whatever.”

Nope. That wasn’t it.

“Are you okay? Do you need a water?”

He blinked hard, then shook his head. “I’m... your his sister?”

“Huh?”

Oh. Jumin’s. You nodded your head. “I honestly thought you knew.”

He shook his head violently. “I didn’t know. I- God. I hate his guts. How can you two seem so different?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Well we have different moms. And we were raised different. He was raised as the heir to the company. I was just raised as... me.”

“You’re Miss Trustfund Kid?”

Uh. So maybe he wasn’t as amused by this as you thought he may be.

“...an argument could be made for that, yes. I didn’t realize you didn’t know, and I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

You were almost... offended? That the second he found out who you were his whole attitude took a shift. It sucked. This is how it always was though.

He ran a hand through his hair, his face looking far more tired than it did a few minutes ago. “I’m sorry. I’m being rude. I just- you’re his sister!?”

“Yup.”

“Like you two... played together as kids!?”

“Jumin didn’t really like children’s toys all that much.”

Zen frowned. “Of course he didn’t. But still. You grew up together?”

“Yes. He’s a few years older though.”

“You grew up with V?”

“Of course.”

Zen took a seat. “I just... wow. Wow.”

“You look like someone told you you have a week to live.”

He glanced at you, then pouted. “I’m just surprised.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “What? You don’t like me now? What’s so different, I have money?” You grinned. “I’m a college student getting my PhD, so I’m definitely no Jumin.”

“I just assumed you were going to be in the family business.”

You grinned, shaking your head. You were proud of paving your own path. “Nah. I’m in law and I want to be a professor.”

“You’re so badass.”

“You so hate that you like me.”

He stood from his chair, leaning forward to lock his lips with yours. It wasn’t the chivalrous, gentle sort of kiss that you were expecting a few moments ago, but it was just as good, maybe even better? He was a fury of emotions and passion and he was handsome and witty and amazing. Even if this was a bad idea, it was a great one.

Until a voice broke you out of your spell.

“What in God’s name are you doing to my sister?”

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @imatalossforwords lmk if you want to be added :)

[hournites]

A lot of ways to love you (teach me through your eyes)

Hournite Week Day 7: Love Languages 

Summary: Words of Affirmation, Acts of Service, Gifts, Quality Time, Touch. Or, Rick, Beth, and their many languages of love.

Thank you for coming along on this first HN week journey with me! ❤️

~.~

Words of Affirmation

  Beth found Rick by himself at the corner of their shared history class, carving his initials into the desk. She didn’t understand why he’d put himself there. It was like a brooding corner to be miserable. 

  “Hey,” she said, taking the seat in front of his desk. “What’s wrong?” 

  Rick dug deeper to splinter the wood. “They think I cheated on my chem test.” 

  Without asking, Beth unzipped Rick’s bag to pull out the test. Rick let her. 

  She gaped at him as she scanned over the F and comments from the teacher. He always treated Beth kindly when they passed in the halls, but she never actually had Mr. Geralds. Chemistry wasn’t her strong suit like Rick, but there wasn’t a doubt that she’d given some of the same answers with a great grade from the other science teacher. “Are you serious? That’s crazy. You’re going to contest that, right?”

  “You’re not going to even ask if I did?” 

  “I know you didn’t, you’re too smart.” 

  “I used to steal shit,” he muttered under his breath and dropped his pencil. “Haven’t heard you say I’m too smart for that.” 

  Beth slipped his test into her folder to return to at a later time, right now focusing on Rick. 

  “Hey, that’s not fair.” When Rick wouldn’t meet her eyes, she leaned in closer. “Look at me.” 

  Rick did. 

  “You know you deserved a good grade. And you’ve done what you did to get by.” She glanced at the vandalism briefly. “There are people here who know you’re better than what the majority of the town thinks.” She lowered her voice to keep her next words between them. “You’re a hero. You’ve helped save everyone in this town. So show them who you really are.” 

  She smiled when he let out a small huff, she knew he was listening. “I’ll go to the principal’s office with you, and we can get Pat to vouch for us. We both know that for Chem you should be in AP.” 

  “It’s really not that big of a deal,” he lied, shifting uncomfortably from all her nice words. 

  “If it weren’t a big deal, you wouldn’t have done that.” She pointed at the roughened mess he’d made of the school desk. “I know you better than you think.” 

  Act of Service 

  “Has anyone seen Beth?” 

  Rick walked around the main area of Pat’s cabin. It was after 2 AM. Barbara and Jennie were making late-night comfort food in the kitchen. Pat was manning the first aid station, tending to Mike, Jakeem and Yolanda’s injuries from Sportsmaster. Courtney was bonding or something with the staff in some strange ritual she had after a life-threatening mission. Rick just stepped out of the shower, washing the grime from his arms and face. 

  “She’s upstairs, I think!” Yolanda called, holding her ribs from her seat on top of the table. Rick shook his head when Pat admonished her not to yell. Rick made it up the stairs two at a time, stopping when he found Beth with her packed school bag on the floor in front of the couch. She was searching through papers, openly crying. She hadn’t even taken her cape off yet. 

  Rick crouched down beside her. “Hey,” he said softly. She looked utterly exhausted. “Are you okay? You said you didn’t get hurt.” 

“I’m not hurt.” She hiccuped, flipping through more papers, a little hysterical. It looked like it was for school. “I can’t find my math assignment. It’s due tomorrow morning.”

  “Did you finish it?” he asked. 

  “I don’t remember.” She wiped at her tears as she cried harder. “I might’ve left it at home, I can’t find it. I’m too tired, I can’t think.” 

  “Yeah,” Rick agreed. His bones were weary but he had always felt the least affected after battling it out with the ISA. He suffered plenty of superficial cuts and bruises, but he hardly felt them because his hourglass really protected him. He couldn’t imagine the hit the night must’ve taken on Beth’s body. Pat was going to be driving them back to main Blue Valley at 4 or 5 o’clock in the morning to get them back to school. It wasn’t ideal, but it was a random Wednesday. It’s not like they had a choice. 

  “Did you ask Chuck?” 

  “No.” Her lip wobbled, face contorting into another sob. Rick regretted asking. It was clear she was far too drained. It would’ve been simple to have asked Chuck to scan her bag to find out, but she hadn’t thought of it. 

  “Okay, okay,” Rick said. “Go to bed. You’re not going to be able to do the homework now even if you found it.” Rick got up to get to the top of the stairs, calling down for Barbara. 

  When he returned, he helped her up and managed to get her to let go of her school bag. “We’ll look for it before we leave, okay?” Rick ran a hand through his damp hair, his own eyelids started to droop. “I promise you’ll get it done before school.” 

  Barb joined them upstairs and coaxed Beth to change out of her suit, leading her downstairs with her regular clothes and a promise of a warm bed and tea. 

  Rick followed to grab Chuck when Beth wasn’t looking, turning him on once alone to help identify if this alleged math homework was even in her bag. Together they found what she was talking about. Ten problems of pre-calc. She was right. It was rushed and not done. 

  Rick sighed, tucking it under his arm. He said goodnight to the rest and retired to his assigned room. He turned on the lamp on the desk where he first solved the code of his father’s journal, spreading out the assignment and using Chuck as a calculator. It dawned on him an hour later as he rubbed at his tired eyes how he would be staying up all night to finish homework that wasn’t even his. 

  Gifts 

  Beth was immersed in her book when two hands landed on her collarbone. She looked down, touching the skin at the opening of her shirt when she felt the weight of something new at the base of her throat.

  “What’s this?”

  Rick murmured in her ear from behind. “An early birthday present.”

  She let out a soft gasp when he finished with the clasp. A tiny brass hourglass pendant with sand just like Hourman’s trickled steadily beside her rainbow pendant. 

  “Woah.” She glanced up at him. “You got me an hourglass?” She bit down on her lip, dread creeping into her mind when she realized this had to be expensive. She struggled to voice what she was feeling out loud, but Rick must’ve caught the complicated expression on her face. He smoothed his hand along the sleeve of her cardigan and reassured her the cost didn’t push him into any kind of financial ruin. 

  “Did you not realize I’ve been working for Pat before school? I had some spare cash. Trust me, there’s nothing better I’d spend my money on.” 

  The puzzle clicked into place. Beth had been meeting Rick at the Pit Stop every morning before school for what felt like months now. It made sense he was there to work on the cars. Beth felt her face heat up at his implicit soft-spoken confession. “Thank you,” she said in a whisper, still in awe. The necklace was beautiful and she felt fuzzy ever since his hands were on her neck. “I love it.”

  His eyes, usually hardened and defensive, skilled at warding off unwanted attention, now creased at the corners. Gentle, quiet, yearning, he watched her accept his gift. “I’m glad.”

  Impulsively she asked, “Could you unclasp the rainbow one?”

  Rick did. The chain pooled in her palm. She shook her head, pushing it to his chest. “You should have it.”

  His brows furrowed in response. “You want to give me your... rainbow necklace?”

  She flushed when he said it like that. She toyed with her new one, looking at him from beneath her lashes. “Well…” she said. “I have something of you, now you can have a symbol of me.”

  Rick let out a small laugh. Beth was pretty sure if this were anyone else he’d say it was stupid, so she couldn’t help the surge of pride when he nestled her necklace around his own neck. 

  “How does it look?” 

  It was actually twisted. She flattened it so it would look the way it was supposed to over the collar of his shirt. Rick didn’t complain, but it was bright and cheery and clashed with his entire self. Beth bit her lip, withholding another laugh, and took pity on him, changing her mind to tuck the necklace underneath. “Perfect now.” 

  “Beth, I hate to interrupt this moment but you will be late for school if you don’t leave the Pit Stop in the next five minutes.”

  Chuck broke them out of their weird double transfixion. They both found themselves smiling shyly at each other, neither truly wanting to move. 

  “Come on,” he said after another few moments of them smiling at each other without moving. “Put your bike in my trunk. I’ll drive you.”

  Quality Time

  When Rick stopped by at Beth’s locker, she was talking to Charity, a new close friend she made over the summer volunteering at the Blue Valley Community Centre. 

  “Hey,” Rick greeted, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, waiting for Beth to visit. 

  “Hey,” Charity said back. She swept her blonde bangs out of her face to continue their conversation. 

  “Charity had a great idea that we should enter for the sustainability case competition,” Beth filled in.  

  “We’re going to need at least a month to prepare. I was thinking we could meet Tuesdays and Thursdays after school?” 

  Rick stuck a hand in his pocket, sullen. Thursdays were their days, unofficially. Not that they’ve ever said so out loud, but with JSA training afternoons the rest of the week, Beth working on a case competition their days off basically meant not getting to see her. Which was fine. It happened. Rick just wishes it didn’t have to. 

  “I can’t on Thursdays,” Beth told her. She glanced up at Rick to give him a smile. He straightened up, meeting her gaze with obvious surprise. “Those are our nights.” 

  Charity paused, watching the two with curious eyes. 

  “We can cancel,” Rick found himself saying and actually meaning it. “You don’t have to stay on my account.” 

  Beth’s nose scrunched up as she shook her head, mind already made. “Nah. Sorry Charity, Thursday doesn’t work for me. Take out your schedule, maybe we have a shared free period somewhere.” 

  “Oh, yeah, sure! Okay!” 

  Rick ducked his head to hide his smile as Charity fished through her bag for her agenda.

  Touch 

  When Beth stumbled out of the cell she’d been bound in, she hadn’t realized just how long she’d been gone. She was hungry and exhausted and felt horrifically dirty in her soiled Dr. Mid-Nite suit, but then she got a glimpse of Hourman nearly pushing the others in his rush to get to her all she could feel was relief. 

  Rick cupped her face, eyes squeezed shut as he held her close, his thumbs brushed along her cheeks, under her dry eyes. She felt the buzz of adrenaline rushing through him just by being so near, but the way he touched her was gentle, so gentle.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he whispered, a startling unfamiliar word to fall in succession like that, coming from Rick. His hands flew to the crown of her cowl, tugging it down to kiss her forehead again and again. “Thank you.” 

  I’m okay now, she tried to comfort him, though her words were choked, smothered out by the crushing weight of it all. He was crying as his lips brushed over her face. It wasn’t his stamina. The buzz, she felt. Rick was shaking. It hit her then, that maybe he wasn’t sure Beth was ever going to come back. Beth had scared him. He was scared.  

Beth vaulted with her tired, numb legs, reaching to wrap her arms around his neck. Her mind went calm for the first time since before they left home, muscles relaxing as she let Rick scoop her up. 

  She was safe. She was home.

Beth was loved. 

[beyscape]

The Intern - 1

Andy Barber x Reader

Summary: Being Andy’s intern meant you got to spend more time by his side more than anyone. This was fine, however, until feelings got in the way and made things complicated

Warnings: Age gap, technically cheating, swearing and stuff

Word Count: 2.9k

A/N Spoilers as it progresses! I’ve not read the book and only saw the first two episodes so if you haven’t seen episodes 1 and 2, what are you waiting for go watch them! I’m putting the reader around 26 and Andy around 40.

Chapter 1   Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4   Chapter 5

 02:37 am

You sighed at the clock, slightly feeling cheated that only 9 minutes had passed since you last checked it, when it felt like it should have been hours. Sipping at the now cold coffee you bought from the vending machine down the hall, you leaned back in your chair. You had been staring at the mountain of paper scattered around your desk for hours now, yet it didn’t seem like you were able to make a dent into it. It sat there, almost mocking you; you scowled at it.

The office was dark and empty, it had been for some time now as the last person had left sometime after the clock stroke 10 pm. Without the occasional whistling of the night guard patrolling the building, you seemed totally alone. Not just physically too, you felt like you had no one with you, supporting you. Your gaze drifted to the big desk left unoccupied behind the glass wall. Andy Barber, the plaque on the desk read, right next to the messy pen holder and another mountain of paperwork, almost identical to the one you had on your desk. Great, you thought, they could mock you both. Even the pile of paper had someone. You rubbed your eyes as even your thoughts stopped making much sense.

You were tired.

It had been two weeks now that Andy was forced to take a paid leave, following the arrest warrant for his son. Fourteen days. Then why the hell did it feel like fourteen months?

Being Andy’s intern was something you simply loved. You were excited and eager to do your job, straight out of a prestigious law school you had gotten such a good job, so of course you were fresh and happy to please your bosses and wanting to make a great career for yourself by learning from some of the very best. At least, that’s how it started almost a year ago. You had heard of Andy’s name, followed some of his cases as he was one of the best district attorney’s of the whole East Coast. The job wasn’t easy by any means, even though he was a kind man he would never go easy on you about your job. You liked that air of professionalism he carried around him though, it seemed as if he was good at everything he did.

He was incredibly smart, funny, kind, not to mention downright gorgeous, and he would always look at you with such emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t help but feel your heart jump a little every time he gave you one of his deep looks. So, it was an understatement to say you had a crush on him. It was impossible not to! That’s how you tried to comfort yourself in those late-night hours when you were up from tossing and turning and all you could think of was how his lips would taste on yours. It was just a simple, tiny crush that you couldn’t do anything about. Aside from obstacles such as the age gap between you and him technically being your boss there was also the matter of him being married. You had met his family on a couple of occasions, they had seemed like the perfect little American family. No matter how deep your feelings ran, you knew you couldn’t possibly be the reason for breaking apart a family.

It was just a tiny crush anyways.

Your mind drifted to Andy, how his once bright and sharp eyes now seemed tired and the bags forming under his eyes made him look older than he was. It was funny how two weeks can change a man’s life so drastically.

Defending Jacob wasn’t an easy job, what with so many in the office believing that he was responsible with the murder of Ben. You thought of Jacob, images of him visiting Andy in the office sometimes after school flashed in your mind, and how he would shyly smile at you when you offered him some candy or asked about his classes. You just didn’t think that a boy like him could be the murderer. You wanted to catch the actual murderer and put an end to this whole ordeal so that maybe, hopefully things would go back to normal. You had forgotten what normal even was in those two frantic weeks.

You didn’t need to pull such long hours at the office, in fact if Neil found out he would probably make a sly remark about it, but you wanted to. You wanted to catch a murderer and make sure a teenage boy didn’t go to prison over a crime he didn’t commit, but more than those you wanted to help Andy.

You thought of the times he would smile at you, thanking you for your hard work. “I have no idea what I would do without you, Y/N,” he had once said, the words still burning bright in your memory, “I can’t even remember how things were before you came in and started your internship.” His gaze was so intense at that point, his blue eyes so deep you thought you would drown in them if you stared for too long, his smile so relaxed and curved to the one side, his hands playing with the end of his tie he had loosened moments ago, he was everything you had ever wanted and some more. You had lowered your gaze back then, a bashful smile appearing on your heated face. Oh, how you wished you were back at that diner he had taken you out to celebrate after a long and tiresome case.

A sad smile played on your face as you reflected on the many memories you had made in the passing year, all of them equally leaving you flustered. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts however, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching your part of the floor. Your head snapped as movement entered your peripheral vision, sending a dull ache down your neck sore from slumping over your desk for hours. It was too dark for you to see the face of the person approaching, but you knew him well enough to recognize him just from his silhouette.

Your mouth fell open ever so slightly, your heart picking up its speed as he made his way towards you. What was he doing here at three in the morning on a Tuesday night? He wasn’t even supposed to be allowed in the building! Despite these thoughts and many more swirling through your head, there was one main thought blaring in your mind: you missed him very much. You had seen him around town of course, but it was only here and there and in the passing. Neil had made it very clear that you weren’t to see Andy as “it would create a conflict of interest” he had claimed. You knew though deep down it was because Neil hated Andy’s guts and was probably happy to have him out of the office.

He finally walked close enough that the light of your desk lamp washed over his tired features, you noted the way his hair was a mess spiking up in different directions as if he had been tossing and turning restlessly in bed. He wasn’t wearing his usual work attire, those suits you loved seeing him in, and instead was in a pair of grey sweatpants and a simple hoodie on top. Your gaze shifted back to his face where surprise now gleamed in his eyes along with something else you couldn’t quite place.

“Y/N?” He said and momentarily all you could think of was how much you loved the way your name rolled off of his tongue.

“What are you doing here so late?” He asked as he stopped right in front of your desk, hands casually in his pockets. He didn’t need an answer however as his laid on the paperwork you had sitting in front of you, going page after page about him and more specifically his son’s involvement with the murder case.

“I see. That asshole Neal keeping you here all night? You look like you need some rest.” He remarked with a darkened, displeased look in his eyes. You shook your head, wanting to explain, to say so much, yet never finding the right words.

“I’m here because I want to, Neal has nothing to do with it. I wanna figure out a way to prove Jake’s innocence, to see if we maybe missed something. I don’t believe he did it.” You replied with a fierce passion, your words breaking the silence engulfing the whole building.

“That makes the two of us.” He smiled at that for a briefly, then seemed to catch himself. He frowned, almost feeling guilty for smiling. Your heart panged.

“How about you Mr. Barber? You really are not supposed to be here.”

“How many times have I told you to call me Andy? Kingston was at night shift, told him I forgot to grab some of my personal stuff I needed. And he let me in.” He scratched the back of his neck, slightly swaying on his heels.

“No offense but if Kingston’s just letting people in maybe he needs a little talk.” You teased him, wishing to see him smile once again. He didn’t, but you could easily read the amusement in his eyes. You had spent too long by his side, watching him, to miss those little things.

“You wanna take a walk? Clear your head a little. I know I need that.” He asked in response, surprising both you and himself.

“What about those personal stuff you needed to grab?” You shuffled on your feet to pull on your coat, hoping it would be enough to brace you against the chill of the night.

“Nah, I honestly didn’t know what to do or where to go, one thing I knew was I needed to get out of that house. Next thing I know, I’m in front of the building. Figured I’d try my chance at getting inside. But now that I’ve ran into you, my night’s a bit better.” He motioned towards the door with his head, his hair swaying slightly in the same direction, “Let’s go.”

The elevator ride and the couple of minutes it took to walk through the building was spent in silence aside from Kingston wishing you both a good night at the front security desk, as if you both didn’t know what to say or how to start a conversation. In that same silence you walked towards the park close to the tall grey building you had left moments ago, shivering against the cold of three a.m.

“So,” you started after minutes of silence, not being able to take it any longer, “do you wanna talk about it?” You hugged your arms around your body, tucking your already cold hands.

“It’s just,” he sighed and rolled his shoulders, almost as if trying to drop some of the weight he was carrying, “it’s crazy how fast everything went to shit. He didn’t do it, Y/N, I know my son. And they are ruining his life just like that. I can’t believe all of this and there is nothing I can do as I watch them ruin my son’s future so easily, just like that.” He rubbed his forehead, wishing for things to go back to normal, just as you. You both knew that normal was a long memory now, things could never go back to the way they were. Not entirely.

“I’m so sorry you are going through all this, Mr. Barber. Neither you nor Jake deserve this.” You let out a sigh matching his, desperately wanting to comfort the man who haunted every waking thought you had, yet finding yourself unable to as you glanced at the ring shining on his finger under the orange-ish street lights.

“How many times have I told you to call me Andy?” He turned his gaze to you now, you swallowed.

“More than I can remember the number of, Mr. Barber.” You gave him a cautious smile, unable to hold it in. Your heart swell with happiness as he snorted at your last remark, a soft look on his face as he took you in. You bit your lip before speaking again.

“How is Laurie?” You had to know. Damn your hands which ached to hold him, damn whatever may stand between you, you wanted to take action and do something as the urge, the need to close the distance between you got stronger and stronger. To do that, however, you had to know.

Andy flinched slightly at the mention of his wife, as if he didn’t expect for you to bring her up. Or like he even forgot that he had a wife. A bitter, short laugh escaped his lips as he ruefully examined the sliver band on his finger.

“Laurie is… Laurie. We are fighting again.” He raised his gaze to meet your eyes. You were caught off guard, you raised an eyebrow at the word ‘again’. He continued when you said nothing.

“We have been having some problems, we even had counselling a while ago. Laurie was always so keen about wanting to keep it quiet and locked away, and we tried it for Jake’s sake. Coming from a broken home type of situation, I wanted to try for Jake. These two weeks however, things have been really bad, on top of everything. This whole thing brought back a ton of unresolved bitterness from years ago. I never told anyone that.” He looked at you as if he was seeing you under a new light, his shoulders stood higher and more relaxed. A warm feeling spread in you as he confided in you things he never muttered to another soul, you smiled at him softly, his eyes drawing you in and spinning your head.

“I’m so sorry, Andy.” Was all you needed to say as you lay a delicate hand on his arm, the gentleness in your eyes surprising him and make him feel things he got the taste of so long ago.

One look at the hand you lay on his arm and another at your face, and Andy found himself to be in trouble. He already was, don’t get him wrong, his life seemed to be a magnet for all things bad and problematic at the moment. This, however, was a new kind of trouble as he looked at his intern, this young girl who had diligently followed him for a whole year and always seemed to know exactly what he needed. Before he knew what he was doing, he closed the distance between you with two small steps, and now was so close that you were too afraid to breathe, scared that even the smallest of moves would fully erase the very little gap left between your lips.

Despite your whole body feeling as if you were thrown into a scorching flame and every inch of your skin itching to get even closer, you waited, staring into his eyes with slightly raised eyebrows and hooded eyes. Your mouth was barely open and so was his, you were so close that every time he ruggedly breathed you felt his hot breath caress your lips.

“Fuck,” he whispered before giving in and closing the distance after a painful minute, placing those soft lips you had spent hours fantasizing about on yours. There was nothing gentle with his kiss, getting more and more heated and frantic as if he was a man needing cold water after spending his whole life walking around the desert.

You whimpered against his kiss as Andy’s one hand wrapped around your waist and the other finding your neck, pulling you towards him with no more distance to cover. You were so entangled with each other in the dark, it was hard to tell where one body ended and the other started. Placing one last, this time gentler kiss on your lips, he rested his head against your forehead, his eyes for closed as he breathed a deep breath.

“Oh Y/N,” he said, his voice strained and barely above a whisper, “what are we going to do, baby girl?”

You had no answer for him, a mess of emotions after the kiss that you felt your knees wouldn’t be able to hold you for much longer. So, you clung on Andy, his tense and broad shoulders feeling like they could carry you for as long as you needed, just as Andy’s hands clung on your waist, holding you close to his chest, his forehead still laying against yours.

In the park next to the towering building you both belonged to, you stood together some time after three. The chilly wind making its way into your lungs did nothing against the heat you felt all over your body, not cooling down one bit. In that park, in the safety of the shadows and the quiet of the town, you were safe. Not a defense attorney and his intern, just two people desperately needing to hold each other, too frightened to let go and face the world.

As the clock showed a little past 3 in the morning, you and Andy were safe in the dimly lit park, unaware how much that would change so very soon.

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There you have it folks! I’m so so whipped for this man. Make sure to follow me so you don’t miss the other chapters! My inbox is open for requests, feedback or just to scream about Chris Evans! :P