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the-scandalorian · 3 years

Text

Tempered Glass: Chapter 4

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, non-graphic description of blood and injury, cursing, alcohol consumption Summary: You and Mando choose Sorgan as your place to lay low, only to get wrangled into a risky job. Notes: I didn’t post last week, so have two chapters! Taglist: @bbdoyouloveme @beskarhearts @dincrypt @honey-hi @just-me-and-my-obsessions00 @red-leaders @zoemariefit

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Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

The next few days passed in a haze of planning and training. You helped instruct the villagers in hand-to-hand combat alongside Cara and firearms training with Mando. When Cara asked why you happened to be proficient in both skills, you told her that working with the clientele you did occasionally necessitated self-defense. That was true enough.

After a day or two, however, you decided it was best to leave the blaster training up to Mando. You focused on assisting Cara, who was good company, and joined the crew that was constructing barricades and digging trenches.

It was irritating to feel a tinge of jealousy at the comfortable way Mando interacted with Omera so soon after meeting her. She was beautiful and clever, welcoming and kind. You understood her appeal. Still, despite yourself, you were annoyed by their borderline flirtatious interactions.

You could practically feel Mando’s heart drop when Omera was the only villager to raise her hand when he asked the group who knew how to shoot. He looked like he might actually be in physical pain as he watched her hit the pan she was aiming for over and over in quick succession during target practice. He was visibly tense, holding his shoulders back uncomfortably far as he regarded her, deeply impressed.

You were honestly even a little nettled by easy relationship that had developed organically between Cara and Mando. Their connection was strictly platonic, but they acted like they’d been friends for years.

Why is it so different with me?

Both of these developments were irritating, but what really drove you to avoid Mando was your frustration at yourself. This wasn’t the plan. You weren’t supposed to get invested or attached—both because you’d part ways soon enough and because you were witnessing Mando get attached to someone else.

It was easy enough to limit your interactions with him during the day. You spent what little spare time you had playing with the kid and the gaggle of children that followed him around to squeal at every adorable flap of his ears, or wandering through the forest. You always stayed closed to village, but it was relief to get some time alone. As nice as it was to have regular company—something you’d wanted for so long—you also missed some aspects of your solitary existence. It was simple and comfortable. It was what you knew best.

***

At night, you made sure to stay away from the barn as long as possible so Mando could have plenty of time to eat and do whatever else he did with his helmet off.

Each night, you would approach the barn after dark had fallen, making sure to stomp loudly up the steps. You’d stand off to the side of the doorway and knock, waiting to hear the telltale sound of beskar dragging across the wooden windowsill and the subsequent hiss as he fit the helmet back over his head.

The fourth night, however, when Mando arrived back at the barn in the early evening, he stopped at the doorway.

You had stacked every box, crate, and stray item in a line down the center of the back half of the room to make a barrier that was as high as your shoulder. You’d hung a sheet across both sides, so you each had an enclosed space.

“I know it doesn’t fix it, but I thought it might make you feel better? I promise not to get up with out warning you... I know you’ll probably keep your helmet on anyways, but I have to imagine sleeping in it is killing your neck, and since you won’t let me figure out somewhere else to sleep, this is the best I could come up with,” you stopped rambling, punctuating the end of your sentence with a decisive nod.

“Thank you,” he said.

You were relieved—and slightly surprised—when later that night, after darkness had fallen and you were tucked under your blankets, hovering on the edges of sleep, you heard a hiss and a thunk, which you registered as him removing his helmet and setting it on the floor. It was slightly harder to fall sleep knowing that Mando was only feet away from you, helmetless.

The warmth that blossomed in your chest at this display of trust stayed with you well into the next day.

***

The next night, after a long day of training, you were back in the barn, getting cleaned up before bed. Mando, having just entered, was untying the knot in his cape. The kid was standing in his crib, tiny hands gripping the bars, watching you and Mando with eager curiosity.

Seated on a crate, you pulled the necklace that was tucked under your shirt over your head, preparing to wash the sweat and grime of the day off you. You leaned over to stow it in a tiny zip pocket on the outside of your bag, when you felt a tug on the thin gold chain. You looked down at your hand, thinking the child must have tottered over when you weren’t looking. But, looking up, you saw that he wasn’t near you. He was still standing in his crib, and he whined at you, his tiny hand outstretched. He seemed concerned, his eyes squinted and forehead wrinkled in concentration.

You looked from the necklace in your hand to the kid and back.

“What the—?”

You glanced at Mando. He was watching you, the cape he was folding frozen in his hands. He dropped the cape and strode over to the crib to grab the child, hugging him tight to his chest. He turned to leave the barn, walking to the doorway. The child struggled against him, until his big ears and eyes appeared over Mando’s shoulder, a tiny hand stretched toward you again.

Curious, you opened your hand and straightened your arm, offering the necklace on your palm.

The baby’s face wrinkled in concentration once again. Mando was almost out the door when the necklace jerked out of your hand and flew across the room. The chain hooked on one of the kid’s tiny fingers. He grasped it, and the purple crystal at the end of it clinked distinctively when it collided with Mando’s pauldron. Mando stopped dead in his tracks.

Your jaw dropped. Mando whirled around, adjusting his grip on the child so he could see the necklace clutched in his tiny hand, the pendant swinging back and forth like a pendulum. The baby was cooing and wiggling his ears in triumph. His other hand grabbed at the crystal.

Mando’s entire demeanor shifted in the space of a second. He stopped breathing and crossed the space between you in a few long strides, raising a hand to point a threatening finger at your chest.

“You can’t tell anyone.” The anger in his voice failed to conceal the fear underneath it, even through the modulator.

“I won’t.” You were absolutely bewildered by this development, but you’d never do anything that would endanger the child.

Mando stayed frozen like that, his hand outstretched. In his arms, the child tittered and cooed, examining the object clasped in his tiny hands.

“Mando, I promise. I won’t.”

He nodded, dropping his accusing hand, and looked down to gently extricate the necklace from the three-fingered hand it was wrapped around. You could see the reflection of the baby’s huge, imploring brown eyes in Mando’s visor. The baby let out a frustrated huff in protest and began to whine in earnest when Mando successfully disentangled the necklace.

He thrust it back into your hand, turned on his heel, and left.

The Mandalorian has a baby... Jedi? And he does not want to talk about it.

***

After two weeks of preparation, the day finally arrived. Tension was high among the villagers as the final arrangements were made. The plan was reviewed, and finally, the sun began to set. You and Mando headed back to the barn to gear up.

It only took a few minutes for Mando to grab all he needed. Slinging his rifle across his back, he walked toward the doorway and paused. He turned around to face you.

“We’re headed out. You’ll make sure the kid is safe with the others?” he asked.

“Of course. Be careful out there.”

“You too.” He gave you a curt nod and swept out the door.

You gathered what you needed, delivered the child to the building that was designated for children and a couple caretakers, and took your place with the villagers behind one of the barricades. You shared words of reassurance with those around you.

The night passed in a blur of adrenaline. You had been put in charge of one of two groups of the villagers who were capable of fighting. Omera led the other. Mando and Cara attacked the raider’s camp, drawing them out of the forest. The Klatooinians rushed the village, purposefully funneled to the open space between your group and Omera’s by the barricades, and the AT-ST stuttered into view shortly after.

The villagers were roughly trained soldiers, but in the end, it was enough to scare off the Klatooinians—especially once Mando and Cara managed to lure the reluctant walker into the trap, incapacitating their largest weapon.

Halfway through the fight, your blaster jammed, so you traded it for one you took off a dead Klatooinian. It was large and awkward in your hands, but it did the job well enough.

When the walker fell and the remaining Klatooinians turned tail, the villagers began to cheer, letting their guard down immediately. Mando and Cara disappeared into the woods after the retreating raiders to clear out any stragglers.

You scanned the dark scene from where you stood behind the krill ponds to ensure that every Klatooinian had left. When you turned back toward the village, you noticed an injured raider, who had been lying on the ground, lurched to his feet. He started towards Omera, who was kneeling beside an injured villager, tending their wounds, with her back to him. As he stood, he pulled a long knife from is belt.

“Omera!” you yelled. She looked around at the sound of her name and exclaimed when she saw the man charging her, only a few feet away. Her hands scrabbled along the ground around her, trying to locate her blaster. The other villagers in the vicinity, caught off guard, froze and watched in horror.

You fumbled with the safety on the unfamiliar blaster in your hands, feeling slow and awkward. Fuck.

You sprinted forward to position yourself between Omera and the Klatooinian, catching him off guard and meeting his face with the butt of the heavy blaster. He growled in pain, closing his eyes for a moment as he reeled back, slashing the air blindly with his blade. You took the chance to kick him in the stomach, putting all your weight behind it. He doubled over, but managed to throw out his arm as he stumbled backwards, just as you were drawing your leg back. You cried out in pain as his blade bit through the meat of your calf.

Omera, who had recovered behind you, shot the raider before he hit the ground.

You staggered back, breathing hard, and sat on the ground abruptly, gritting your teeth at the sharp pain. He’d cut deep into your muscle, leaving a laceration as long as your hand. Bacta would fix you well enough, but it hurt like a bitch. It was bleeding freely, thick droplets of blood running down your shin into your boot. Without thinking, you ripped your shirt off over your head, leaving you in just your breast band, and wrapped it tight around your calf to staunch the bleeding. Several villagers rushed over to help you, but you waved them off, reassuring them that you had it under control.

Omera knelt beside you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Thank you for having my back,” she said genuinely.

You smiled at her and covered her hand with yours: “Anytime. Thanks for having mine.”

You heard the familiar clank of Mando’s armor behind you. He must have finished flushing out the nearby trees. He crouched next to you.

“What happened?”

“Knife wound. Not bad. I’ll be fine.”

Blood was rapidly soaking through the thick fabric of your shirt. Okay, I might need stitches.

“You need stitches,” Mando said, verbalizing your thought.

“Yeah.”

“I can do those for you,” Omera offered. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable.”

“Thank you,” you nodded.

She threaded a hand under your arm to help you to your feet. You started to get up.

“I got her,” said Mando, waving Omera away. She moved back.

You were too focused on the stinging pain of your leg to process what he meant. Mando got to his knees and leaned forward to slip an arm under the crook of your knees and one around your back. You flinched at the feeling of the cold beskar on your side.

“Mando, I can walk,” you protested, surprised, as he lifted you. You instinctively wrapped an arm behind his neck, while your other hand held tight to the shirt around your calf.

“You’re losing too much blood.”

His chest plate was cold against your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You were surprised when he turned in the direction of the barn where the two of you slept, instead of toward the structure that had been designated for medical care. On the way there, he poked his head into the room where the kids were hidden. The child chirped happily up at the two of you from where he was seated in Winta’s lap. Satisfied, Mando turned to carry you the rest of the way to the barn.

If you weren’t exhausted and in pain, you’d probably be more acutely aware of how exposed you were in just your breast band in his arms. You would probably be enjoying the easy way he was carrying you.

He stepped onto the porch in one stride and strode inside, setting you down gently on your blankets. You lay back immediately, bending your injured leg to keep the pressure steady with a tight grip on your shirt. You closed your eyes, trying to not focus on the pain. You heard Mando rummaging around.

“My med pack is in my backpack,” you said. “Will you hand it to me?”

But when you opened your eyes, you saw that he already had his own med pack open on the floor next to you.

“I have anesthetic bacta spray. I’ll use that first so you don’t feel the stitches.” He held up an aerosol can to show you.

Knowing how expensive that was, you protested: “No, no, save that for something more serious. I’ll be okay. I’ve had stitches before.”

“It’ll be easier for me if I know I’m not hurting you,” he insisted, a note of genuine concern in his voice.

“I can handle it.”

“No.”

“What do you mean ‘no’? Yes, I can. I’ve done it before.”

“Will you just let me do it?” he asked, exasperated.

“Are you okay though? Don’t you have any injuries?”

“No. Beskar,” he replied, tapping his chest plate. “Just let me do it,” he pressed with an imploring head tilt.

“Okay,” you agreed reluctantly. “Thank you.”

He moved down to your calf, taking the shirt gently from your hands. When his fingers brushed yours, you registered that it wasn’t a glove you felt—his hand was bare.

You closed your eyes again, trying not to fixate on the feeling of his bare skin on yours. Plus, you still weren’t sure if seeing his bare skin would somehow violate his Creed.

He peeled back the fabric slowly. You winced.

“The worst of the bleeding has stopped,” he said, using the shirt to wipe away the drying blood on your skin. “I’m applying the spray.”

You nodded vaguely, then hissed through your teeth at the sting of cold spray on your leg, but the effects were immediate—the pain disappeared instantly, completely.

“Ah, fuck, I forgot how good that stuff is. I got so used to getting patched up without it.”

He let out a grunt of agreement. “Stay still.”

“I will.”

You glanced down at Mando, appreciating how out of place he looked, his large metal form crouched over your leg, administering precise medical care with careful movements.

Feeling like you were in good hands, with the pain gone, you let the fatigue overtake you. Your eyes drifted closed.

Sometime later—you weren’t sure how long in your hazy state—you felt Mando move beside you. You opened your eyes, and he was on his knees by your shoulder, his gloveless hand hovering a couple inches above your arm like he wasn’t sure whether or not he was going to touch you. You gave him a sleepy smile, and in a sudden movement, he lowered his hand the rest of the way down to your bare shoulder.

I guess it isn’t against the Creed to reveal your skin to someone else.

“I’m done.”

“Thank you,” you replied, reaching up to pat the hand on your shoulder. You kept the gesture brief, concerned that your touch might prompt him to pull his hand away.

He didn’t.

His hands were softer than you were expecting.

“Rest,” he instructed. “I put water next to you.”

He stood to leave, the weight of his warm hand retreating with him.

You tried not to overthink how tender Mando had been with you. You didn’t want to process what it meant or the fact that it sort of left you swooning. Though, maybe that was the blood loss.

As you drifted to sleep, you thought about what the future might hold. It was a relief that the fight was over and the village was safe, but it also meant your job here was done and it would soon be time to leave Sorgan. You weren’t sure what this meant for your partnership—if you could really even call it a partnership—with Mando. Would you go your separate ways now?

It wasn’t until the next morning—when you were examining the precise row of stiches on your calf—that you realized, with great dismay, you’d exposed the scar on your chest to Mando, Omera, and a handful of other villagers.

***

The following evening was a celebration. The entire village stayed up late into the night eating, talking, and drinking in the long hall.

After dinner, you were five shots into a drinking game with Cara when Mando rejoined the two of you. You were drinking a clear liquor, something stronger than spotchka that you didn’t know the name of.

Mando sat down stiffly across from you, watching the two of you howl with laughter over a joke he’d missed.

“I was just here half an hour ago. How are you both already drunk?”

“We’re efficient,” said Cara in a mock-serious tone.

“You want to play, Mando? I could get you a straw,” you offered.

He tilted his head, and the sassiness of the gesture made you cackle.

Cara laughed heartily, slapping her hand on her thigh: “I guess that’s his way of saying he can’t handle his booze.”

“What exactly are the rules of this game?” he asked.

“We stopped worrying about the rules awhile ago,” you admitted.

“So who’s winning?”

“Me!” you declared, reaching for the half-empty bottle once again.

“I don’t know about that,” said Cara, skeptically, snatching the bottle and unsteadily pouring two more shots. She handed one to you.

“Maybe you guys have had enough,” Mando said, reaching out to take the glasses from Cara.

“Maybe you’re not the boss of us,” you sassed, knocking his hand out of the way and tipping the proffered shot down your throat. You were drunk enough that it didn’t burn anymore.

“We’re celebrating, Mando!” Cara proclaimed before she downed hers too, and you both laughed at the long-suffering sigh that Mando let out.

A woman that Cara had been spending most of her free time with sauntered over to your table and leaned down to whisper something in her ear. Cara smirked.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to attend to,” she said, standing and taking the woman’s hand.

“Have fun,” you said, winking.

“You too,” she shot back.

You turned to Mando: “Welp, looks like you’re my new drinking buddy.”

He sat silent, helmet following Cara and the other woman as they left the hall.

“Oookay, then. I’m going to bed.” You slapped your palms onto the table and pushed yourself up.

Mando followed you as you stepped out into the cool night.

“Where’s the kid?” you asked.

“Asleep already.”

“That’s good. Babies need sleep.”

“He’s fifty.”

You turned to Mando, spluttering, “Fifty?!”

“Different species age differently,” he shrugged.

“Yeah, no shit... Still, that’s crazy. You have a fifty-year-old toddler. Your baby is older than you...I mean, I assume so. I don’t know how old you are. If I had to guess, I would say... Is that rude? I probably shouldn’t guess...”

Not paying attention, you started wandering in the wrong direction, and Mando laid a guiding hand on your lower back.

“Come on,” he sighed, directing you toward the barn.

You pushed out the loudest, most dramatic sigh you could muster, and he looked down at you.

“That’s you. That’s what you sound like. You looooove sighing, you know that? It’s your favorite thing, second only to the kid. You might like it even more than the kid, actually,” you mused, making yourself chuckle.

“You’re a chatty drunk,” he observed.

“Everyone is chatty compared to you, Mando.”

He grunted.

“What are you like when you’re drunk? I want to see that. Do you even drink?” You stopped walking, and he did too, visor trained on you.

“Sometimes.”

“I bet you’re a nice drunk.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, no, I know so. Because secretly you’re a nice not drunk person so I bet you’re an extra nice drunk person.” Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that your usual verbal filter was completely gone. Oh well.

“Is that right?”

“Yep, you pretend to be all scary with your sexy voice and your blasters and your bounty hunting and your fire bracelet and your shiny outfit, but really you are soft, and you love babies and helping people and carrying injured friends.”

“My sexy voice?” He titled his head suggestively.

“Really? That’s what you took from that?” You hiccupped. “Don’t pretend like you don’t know what your voice sounds like. This is the way.” You hit him with your best Mando impression.

He chuckled.

Your mouth fell open, and you pointed up at him, incredulous. “You laughed.”

“I did.”

“Well, don’t do it too much or I might start to think that you’re a real human being under all that.” You gestured at his beskar.

“We wouldn’t want that,” he said, and you both started walking toward the barn again.

“Look at you, making jokes.” You tripped slightly, and Mando steadied you.

“My boot is untied,” you announced, flopping onto the ground unceremoniously to tie it.

Mando set his hands on his hips and leaned down to watch you.

You held a palm up to him. “Before you do it, I’ll sigh for you,” you said, letting out another exaggerated exhale.

He crouched down in front of you and batted your hand away, pulling your laces tight to knot them.

“You’re trying my shoe,” you said stupidly.

“Yeah, because you’re taking too long.”

“You don’t have to wait for me, you know. I am perfectly capable of getting back by myself. You can go to bed.” You waved dismissively in the direction of the barn.

“I’m not going to leave you out here drunk and alone.”

“See.” You tapped a finger against his chest plate. “Soft.”

“I guess so.”

“Andddd, I think you still feel the need to babysit me because you don’t trust me.”

He looked up at you. “That’s not true.”

“Convincing.”

He shook his head and stood up. You reached out both hands, and he gripped them, pulling you to your feet.

“How’s your leg?” he asked, replacing his hand on your back.

“Oh, it’s good. You make very tiny, very neat stitches. I was impressed. I assume you’ve had lots of practice.”

He hummed.

You hiccupped again.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you scowled up at him. “I’m not even that drunk.”

He pushed your shoulder lightly, and you stumbled.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

“Proved my point though.”

Putting all your weight behind it, you shoved his arm as hard as you could in retaliation. He didn’t falter. Taking a different tack, you snaked a hand under his arm and tickled his unarmored side. He leaped away from you.

“WHY!?” he grunted.

“You’re ticklish!” you announced triumphantly.

“No. I’m not.” But he was careful to stay more than an arm’s distance away from you.

“Yes, you are! But don’t worry, I will take your secret to my grave,” you promised solemnly, placing a hand over your heart. “It wouldn’t be good for business if everyone knew the greatest bounty hunter in the parsec could be bested via tickling.” Your voice cracked, and you dissolved into giggles.

Mando halted and turned to you, putting his hands on his hips again.

“Oh, Mando, lighten up. I’m just teasing you.”

In two decisive steps, Mando closed the distance between you, crowding you backward. You looked up at him, surprised, unable to get a read on him. “I didn’t mean—.”

In one swift movement, he hauled you over his shoulder.

“Hey!!”

He chuckled and tightened his hold around the back of your thighs. You surrendered quickly, going limp. His pauldron dug uncomfortably in your stomach, but otherwise, it wasn’t so bad.

“That is the second time you’ve laughed in the last five minutes. Are you feeling okay? Are you sure you didn’t sustain some sort of head injury yesterday?” you asked.

“Pretty sure, but I’m starting to think you might have.”

“Hilarious. You know, I could still tickle you like this,” you threatened, trailing a hand down his side.

“Not if you don’t want me to drop you,” he warned, jolting you slightly to demonstrate.

You huffed. “You can’t just cuff me or pick me up any time I’m inconvenient. That’s not how friendship works.”

“I think it works well for us,” he said as he climbed the steps to the barn.

***

The following two weeks were a period of peaceful recovery and restoration. You, Mando, and Cara helped the village return their home to normal—disposing of the dead raiders, breaking down the AT-ST, taking down the barricades, filling in the trenches. Every day, as there was less and less to do, you wondered when Mando would broach the topic of leaving. You had a feeling he, like you, was also putting it off for as long as possible. You were enjoying the easy routine you’d fallen into, spending time with the kid, Mando, Cara, and Omera; you’d happened into a community and were loath to leave it.

You were seated on the porch of the barn, watching the clouds roll slowly across the sky, when you noticed Mando making his way over.

As he walked toward you, you admired (not for the first time) the way the soft, green light of Sorgan danced across the surface of his beskar. You looked him up and down surreptitiously, wondering if he’d always worn such an elaborate outfit or if it had evolved over time. You knew the armor at least had been replaced. But had he always worn a cape? And like three layers of clothes? And the sash-like bandolier? You weren’t familiar enough with Mandalorian culture to know if they strapped all of that on as kids or if they donned the armor at a certain age...or how any of it worked.

Your eyes paused at his middle. Weren’t utility belts usually worn lower, on the hips? Not cinched closer to the trimmest part of the waist? It did seem to secure the softer part of his armor that covered his stomach, so maybe it had to be positioned there. The idea that Mando had thought about his silhouette when donning his armor was absurd... but something told you that it was not impossible. Honestly, you hoped the belt was just as much for fashion as it was for function because that was too funny. The man wears a cape... it is definitely possible that more than one part of his outfit is both aesthetic and practical.

You definitely weren’t complaining. You enjoyed the view.

You wondered if he fully understood the nature of his effect on people. He was acutely aware of how intimidating he could be; he wielded that advantage liberally and expertly, but you were unsure if he was aware of his appeal. It wasn’t just you who was drawn to him in that way—Omera, for one, was immediately taken with him. And you saw how others in the cantina that first day, or in the Sorgan public house, or even here in the village trailed their eyes down his body when he wasn’t looking.

Your face burned slightly at the memory of telling him he had a sexy voice. You were grateful you hadn’t admitted anything more embarrassing, and that he hadn’t brought it up again. To your relief, that night of joking with him had shifted things slightly—he’d been a little more relaxed around you since.

Mando walked up the steps and leaned on the wall of the barn, joining you on the porch. He glanced down at you.

“How was your patrol?” you asked.

“Good, no sign of any raiders.”

You nodded and let silence hang between you for a long moment.

“That fight was too much action for a backwater town like this though—word travels fast and it’s been a couple weeks. We should cycle the charts and move on.”

Your eyes found the child, who was seated amidst a group of children in the middle of the village. He looked so happy, giggling and playing outside in the sun. Krill flopped on the ground around him.

“I know you’re right, but the idea of taking him away from this place is... hard to think about. He’s so happy here.” You nodded your head toward the baby.

Mando heaved a sigh. He stared forward as he said, “I’m leaving him here. Traveling with me—that’s no life for a kid. I did my job, he’s safe—”

You were shocked.

“Your job, Mando? Your job was to turn in an innocent child for a bounty, and you knew that was wrong, so you didn’t. After that, he became your responsibility, not just a job.” The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them.

You looked away from him, suddenly cold. He said nothing.

“I don’t understand you. You flip flop between being heartless and being caring. How do you go from saving him to leaving him in some random village? He’s attached to you. Please, explain it to me because I don’t understand.” You made no effort to hide the venom that was seeping into your voice, as every frustration you’d felt toward Mando over the last couple weeks bubbled to the surface at once.

You looked up at him. His helmet was trained on your face.

“He’ll get over it. We all do.”

You glared up at him.

“Why don’t you stay here with him? You could settle down with Omera. You know she wants you to stay.”

“She asked me to stay, but I don’t belong here.”

“You could if you wanted to. Don’t pretend like you don’t have a choice.”

You stood and walked away, leaving him on the porch. You couldn’t stand to look at his infuriatingly blank mask for one more second.

You stomped all the way to the forest’s edge and passed under the cover of the trees. You walked until you reached a clearing surrounded by chest-high berry bushes and began to pace back and forth.

What is he thinking?

How could he do that to the child?

How could he just leave him like that?

You knew it didn’t make sense that you would have a say in what happened to the kid, but you couldn’t help the fact that you’d grown attached to them both over the past several weeks. You wanted Mando to be the man you suspected he was—soft and kind-hearted. You didn’t want him to confirm that the moments of selflessness had been outliers, and he was really the ruthless bounty hunter that he looked like on the outside.

But...he was right that his life was not the best life for a child. You thought about your own lonely, unsettled, nomadic existence—not unlike Mando’s. Except, his life also included regular violence in a way that yours hadn’t in a long time. His life would be even worse for a child than yours.

And it made sense that he wasn’t willing to abandon his entire way of life, everything he knew to stay on Sorgan. That was a lot of ask of anyone. He didn’t ask for this.

You’d come out here to calm down but had only made yourself more irritated now that you’d come to the annoying conclusion that Mando was probably right. You huffed.

The threatening crunch of twigs off to your left brought you back to the present moment. You crouched amidst the bramble of berry bushes.

You watched through the tangle of branches as a figure made their way carefully through the forest. They were carrying a long rifle, their face concealed in a mask.

A bounty hunter. A tracking fob blinked in their hand.

Who is their target? The kid? Me? No, it can’t be me. The fob isn’t beeping fast enough. Mando? Cara? Probably the kid. The thought made your heart squeeze.

You stood silently to follow, keeping a safe distance behind them.

The hunter stopped at the edge of the forest, where the view of the village was clear, and set up the sniper rifle on a boulder. You waited to see where the sight was trained before making your move.

Sure enough, the scope was aimed at the baby, who was sitting on the ground beside a krill pond with Winta. Omera was standing in the water, submerging a basket, beside them.

You rushed forward, raising your blaster to the back of the hunter’s head, and pulled the trigger. Birds screeched and took off into the sky in response to the sound.

You smashed the tracker fob under the heel of your boot before rushing back to the village, knowing the ringing shot would have incited panic.

As you sprinted back to the village center, you spotted Mando. He was standing close to Omera, one hand placed reassuringly on her shoulder. The child was held tight in his other arm. Winta was hugged against her mother’s stomach. They looked like a family, the way they were huddled together.

When Mando saw you, he dropped his hand from Omera’s shoulder.

“What happened?” He looked you up and down, inspecting you for any signs of injury.

“There was a hunter in the woods. I took them out. They had a fob for the kid, Mando. They know he’s here,” you panted.

Neither of you spoke, sharing a moment of mutual understanding. You reached over to lightly stroke the kid’s ear. He cooed up at you.

“What does this mean?” asked Omera.

“It means that he isn’t safe here,” responded Mando. The pain in his voice was clear, even through the modulator.

Omera reached out for Mando’s hand, and he took hers for a moment, squeezing it gently before letting it drop.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

He nodded stiffly. “Me too.”

You and Mando both turned to head to the barn at the same time. As you walked beside him, you looked over to find his helmet trained on you.

“I—uh, I owe you an apology. This would be a great place for any child to grow up—safe, loving. I get why you wanted to leave him here. I’m sorry that he won’t be able to stay now.”

Mando reached his hand out, as if to touch your arm, then thought better of it and let it fall to his side.

“You know, I actually did turn him in for the reward,” he admitted. “That’s how I got enough beskar for the new armor.” He gestured at his chest plate, hanging his head slightly, ashamed.

You looked at him, eyes wide in surprise.

“I regretted it right away and went back for him. That’s when I ran into you. Or, I guess, you ran into me. ” He let out a small huff of a laugh.

You grimaced, remembering the pain of slamming into his back.

“I understand why you were mad,” he continued. “But, I didn’t want to leave him here. I’m still trying to work out what’s best for him, but I know it’s not staying with me forever.” The thread of grief in his voice was pronounced.

You nodded in understanding, wishing you could somehow help him carry this profound responsibility. You weren’t sure how to express that, or if he wanted to hear it, or if it was your place to say it, so you settled on something else: “He’s easy to get attached to.”

Mando scoffed, “You’re telling me.”

You smiled at him, and you couldn’t be sure, of course, but you felt like he was smiling back at you.

***

You said your goodbyes and readied yourselves for departure. While you hugged the kids and packed your things, you thought about your next move.

A stubborn, cold part of you wanted to tell Mando to drop you off at the closest planet with a major port. You didn’t like that after just a few weeks, you were getting emotionally attached to the pair. It would be easier, safer, less complicated to return to your solitary existence. Plus, your continued presence added to the risk they already faced. That wasn’t fair to either of them.

The quieter, more truthful part of you wanted to stay with him and the child. It was a relief to not be alone all the time, but this was supposed to be a loose, short-lived alliance, not something that made your heart squeeze slightly when you thought about eventually going your separate ways.

You told yourself you’d wait until he brought it up, see what he wanted, and go from there.

You, Mando, and Cara stood at the speeder, ready to leave. Everyone in the village was there to see you off. After a few final goodbyes, Mando and Cara jumped into the speeder. You handed the baby to Mando.

You were about to grab the edge of the speeder to haul yourself up when he reached down to offer you a gloved hand. You accepted. The gesture didn’t surprise you—he was generally polite by nature. What did surprise you was the steadying hand that moved to your waist as you stepped carefully over crates and supplies to find a seat. He squeezed your side gently before letting you go.

***

You had prepared yourself for a conversation that never came.

As you were leaving the atmosphere of Sorgan in the Razor Crest, Mando turned to you to ask, “What are you thinking for our next move?”

He flicked some switches and pressed a few buttons on the console, and a holo-map of the area flickered into view in front of him. A constellation of planets hovered before your eyes.

***

Chapter 5

#Tempered Glass #my writing #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x female reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian reader insert #din djarin reader insert

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

Officer Cutie Pants

Anon Request: Can I do a request on our sweet little detective, where he frisks, cuffs, and has a lot of physical contact with the reader, maybe some light hearted smut at the end? :P

A/N: This became a story, but I hope it still satisfies your request. I tried some third person for a change bc I get bored with “Y/N” and “you.” However, there are some places where I had to use a “Y/N,” but I did try to limit it. Feedback welcome, as always, especially if you are like omg stahhp this is way too much “she/her” and “you” flows better sis👏

WC: 6087

Warnings: Reference to a jackass in a club who doesn’t know what “no” means, minor physical violence of said jackass, SMUT (18+ please)

* * * * *

Mike hides his laugh behind his hand as Baxter’s girlfriend pushes her ass into her boyfriend, grinding back into him as he tries his best to still her hips. His forearms are strained with effort as he holds her at bay.

“Y/N. Get. In. The. Car,” Baxter growls out before adding a quiet, “Please.”

“Youuu are gonna have to cuff meee,” she sings, twirling in his arms and wrapping her hands around his neck. “Andstuffme,” she loudly whispers, causing Mike to laugh as Baxter looks ready to die on the spot.

The night had been a fairly quiet patrol, so when Mike and Baxter got a call for a drunken disturbance outside of a nightclub in their area, they both sat up a little straighter as their adrenaline kicked in. Baxter’s breath hitched as he remembered something, his palms all of a sudden very sweaty; he rubbed them over the starchy fabric of the uniform pants that covered his thighs, and Mike glanced over from the driver’s seat.

“What is it?”

“Y/N is there tonight—I just … I’ve got that feeling. Something’s happened.”

Mike’s foot pressed harder on the accelerator as he flipped on the siren.

“Hey, Mike!” she calls, suddenly aware of his presence. “Bax is bein’ a loatboad of nofun.”

“A loatboad, huh,” Mike says as he walks over, his arms crossing as he looks down from his substantial height of 6’5 at both Baxter and Baxter’s girlfriend.

“I can handle this,” he says, glancing up at Mike before returning his eyes to his girlfriend’s face.

He grasps her wrists and removes her hands from his neck, gently pushing her back. She giggles and leans against the cruiser, her head tilting up to look at the night sky.

She is absolutely drunk off her ass, along with at least three of the five friends she had been partying with.

“I wanna press charges against that bi—”

“Careful, sir,” Mike says, cutting off a guy who is almost the same height as himself, except it looks like this guy currently ran his nose into a doorframe. “You wanna tell me what happened here?”

Mike maneuvers his body to block Baxter from the view of the guy who is now insisting that Bax’s girlfriend assaulted him.

“I’ll tell ya wha’ happened!” she interjects, raising her head from its spot on the car and struggling again.

“Tell me what happened,” Baxter says, moving so that his back is to Mike’s, further distancing her from the man claiming assault.

Her eyes are filled with a wild anger until she realizes her boyfriend is the only thing she can see. She blinks, then grins at him.

“Le’s go downtown, Officer Baxty-Babe. I’ll take my pants off ‘n you can do that thing you do that makes me—”

“Please, please stop, sweetheart. You need to focus and explain what happened, or I am going to have to arrest you. Which means mountains of paperwork,” Baxter explains, moving to try to capture her gaze long enough to hold her attention. “Which means it will be a week before I can do that thing to you again,” he adds in a low voice, pulling a wide smile from her as her bloodshot eyes finally settle on his again.

Staring intently into Baxter’s eyes always makes her feel like she is being scrubbed raw. His eyes look dark in the dim light of the street, but they still hold that same pull that had initially attracted her. She quickly found out that dating a cop was hell, constantly worrying about what might happen to him, and after an initial few months of swearing she was going to break it off, and Baxter showing her why she shouldn’t, she acquiesced and let herself fall ridiculously in love with him.

Which suddenly occurs to her to say.

“Iloveyousomuch,” she gushes, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re so sexy ‘n smart ‘n officery ‘n I jus’ looove you.”

Baxter blinks, a long, slow blink of patience, and releases his grasp on her wrists. He moves his hands to her face and asks her not to cry.

“‘M not cryin’!” she declares, laughing as she flings herself into Baxter’s arms, finally able to make full body contact with him, her hands travelling south to grasp his ass at an incredibly high rate of speed before he snatches up her wrists again.

“Stop!” Baxter says loud enough to make her freeze, the tears she swore she didn’t have in her eyes returning.

“Okay,” she mumbles, stepping back and going slack against the car, so slack that she just keeps sliding until she’s sitting on the ground, her ass suddenly cold as it connects with the asphalt.

Gracie and Kendra move forward to help their friend, but Baxter holds out his hand, stopping them.

With a sigh, he kneels, thankful his girlfriend can’t make any more sudden moves.

“Sweetheart,” he says gently. “Please tell me what happened.”

“Can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Can’t.”

“You can’t remember?”

“I re’mber.”

“Then why can’t you tell me?”

She finally looks up, sniffling but not yet crying.

“You’ll kill ‘em.”

Baxter’s fingers flex as he suddenly realizes he should’ve trusted that feeling in his gut all along. He looks up at Gracie and Kendra, and they are frowning.

“Did you see what happened?”

“Not until after she hit him—but it was for a good reason, Bax,” Kendra answers.

Baxter turns his attention back to his girlfriend.

“If you told the girls, you can tell me, too.”

“Gonna kill him ‘n you’ll lose your job—”

“I am an officer of the law, Y/N,” Baxter says, his voice even and soothing, the exact opposite of how he really felt. “I took an oath to protect and serve. The least I can do is protect the woman I love.”

Gracie hiccups as tears fill her eyes and she softly says, “He won’t kill ‘em—ya gotta tell him anyway.”

Too drunk to have felt Baxter’s shift in demeanor from one of embarrassment to controlled anger, she feels reassured by Gracie’s appeal.

“Tell me what happened,” Baxter requests again in the same soothing voice, his eyes trained on her face as she looks slightly over his shoulder and into the small crowd that had gathered.

“We were dancing. ‘N it was fine. All the girls. Guys too. Some guys, couple a guys. Some guys started dancing. Yes. Wasn’t even really payin’ attention, just dancing ‘n then one of em was pullin’ me away, tellin’ me he was taking me home ‘n I said no ‘n he wouldn’ listen so I hit em—just like you taugh’ me,” she finishes, suddenly happy again as her face splits into a wide grin as she mimicks her upward, palm-flat punch toward Baxter’s nose.

He grabs her hand in time to stop her from accidentally hitting him, but this time, instead of restraining her, he presses a kiss to the back of her hand.

“Good girl. Now, can you stay right here for me? Don’t move?”

“I like it here. ‘S comfy,” she says patting the ground and leaning her head to the side.

Baxter’s movement is a blur as he brushes past Mike and starts in on the guy who apparently couldn’t understand the word no.

“Turn around. Put your hands behind your back,” Baxter says as he pulls his cuffs from his belt.

Mike is on immediate alert, ready to back up his partner. He acknowledges the backup officers who had arrived only a moment ago, and they work to push the crowd back.

“What the fuck, man? I’m the one with the busted nose!”

“I said turn around,” Baxter growls as he steps forward, his eyes fixed on the guy’s face. “In my area, no means no.”

“I never touched her,” the guy says, an edge of panic creeping into his voice as he realizes he’s not going to be able to use the sympathy of a few fellow men. Neither Mike nor Baxter have any tolerance for men who don’t respect women, especially intoxicated and vulnerable ones, although it turned out that this guy’s target was not at all vulnerable.

“It was loud—I didn’t hear her. I swear, Officer,” the guy babbles as he complies to being cuffed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as his eyes dart back and forth

Mike steps forward and hooks Baxter’s elbow, angling him so he could lean down to his ear, “Bargain. Get him to drop the charge against Y/N if we let him off with a misdemeanor disturbance. Guy doesn’t have a record.”

Baxter’s eyes turn up to Mike’s and they are hard, unwavering, but Mike doesn’t look away. Under his partner’s gaze, Baxter’s anger falters and logic takes hold again.

“Interview Y/N’s friends while he cools his heels in the backseat. I’ll check in with the bouncer to make sure he’s never had an issue with the asshole before.”

Mike nods and is once more greeted by a cheer as he approaches Baxter’s girlfriend, a few of her friends joining in this time, making Mike grin and shake his head yet again. Meanwhile, Baxter walks the guy in custody to the backup’s cruiser and puts him in the backseat.

At least she’s okay, he thinks before he begins to clean up this mess of a night.

* * * * *

Groaning, Baxter’s girlfriend lifts her head from the mattress between the two pillows she had fallen onto when she passed out. She has a vague recollection of her friends helping her into bed, but at the moment, much of the night was a blur.

Rolling over, she thinks hard.

Dancing. Lots of dancing.

Shots. More shots than dancing.

God, what got into me?

There is a rustling and a few thunks from the kitchen that make her sit up in bed, her heart picking up speed as she listens.

“Hello?” she calls, wondering if Gracie, Kendra, or Eliza had spent the night.

Clutching her blanket to her chest, she holds her breath as heavy footsteps scuffle down the hall.

Baxter appears in the bedroom doorway, a smile on his face and an apology for scaring her on his lips.

“You did scare me! Last night … bit of a blur,” she sighs as she lays back down.

“How much of a blur?” he asks as he moves farther into the room, his hands settling into the pockets of his gray sweats. He still has on his sneakers, and he’s wearing a black, LAPD t-shirt from the 5-k run the county hosted a few weeks ago.

She’s quiet for a moment and then sits up with a gasp, her eyes wide as she begs Baxter to tell her she’s wrong.

“I didn’t … oh my god. Please say I didn’t. That guy’s nose. OH. MY. GOD. I tried to—while you were on duty. Oh god, Bax. I’m so sorry!”

Baxter only smiles a little.

“So you remember it all?”

“The details are a little hazy—what happened to the guy I … bopped?”

“It was a little more than a ‘bop,’” Baxter says, pulling his hands from his pockets to make air quotes.

“I think I may have overreacted,” she says as she bites her lip, realizing that her mouth tastes like a drifter took a bath in it.

“The bouncer corroborated that he got pushy. It’s club policy to kick anyone out that makes physical contact, though. Apparently, you didn’t like that.”

Closing her eyes, she thinks back and remembered issuing quite a string of profanity as the bouncer escorted her out.

“Who called the cops?”

“The guy you slugged. Guess he has a modeling gig next week and no insurance. He wanted the ‘crazy bitch’ who hit him to pay for the damage she caused to his livelihood.”

“He was a model?” she asks, her lip turning up in confused disagreement. “No way.”

“Way,” Bax replies, sitting down gently on the edge of the bed.

Her eyes squint as she thinks hard about what transpired, frowning as she looked to Baxter’s face. It is still fixed in what she calls his “cop face.” His features neutral, his mouth closed and his eyes alert as he waits for her to talk—he has the patience of a saint, which makes him a damn good policeman.

“We were all dancing—a big group of us. The guys came up and pulled a few shots from the floating tray for us. I was feeling pretty stellar by then anyway, but I remember the feeling of his fingers closing over my wrist—tugging me away from the dance floor. I told him I had a boyfriend, but he shrugged. It was that fucking shrug. He pulled on my wrist again, and the rest is a blur—I do remember the way it felt when my palm connected with his nose—shit! I have a bruise!” she exclaims, looking at the bright patch on the heel of her palm.

Baxter’s eyebrow rises and he scoots closer, reaching out to take her hand in his to examine her palm.

“Are you mad at me? I don’t blame you if you are.”

Baxter closes his eyes for a moment, then raises her palm to his lips, pressing gently into the bruise.

“No. I’m not mad, sweetheart.”

“Am I in trouble?”

Baxter chuckles, his lips vibrating against her palm.

“Would I be here about to cook you a big hangover breakfast in my sweats instead of my uniform if you were?”

“I feel like I’ve sullied your sacred uniform,” she says, her grin shy before splitting into one of joy. “Wait—did you say breakfast?”

“Mmhmmm.”

“You are the best boyfriend in the universe!”

“I know. And I also know you will somehow think of a way to repay me for the merciless roasting I took at the station when Mike opened his dumbass mouth.”

“I will kill him. I don’t care how big he is.”

“You’ve clearly proven what a tigress you are,” Baxter replies, his face becoming more open as he relaxes, knowing that his girlfriend really is okay after the ordeal.

“Just you wait,” she says, her headache momentarily forgotten as she darts toward the bathroom.

“I shower … you cook!”

Baxter smiles and shakes his head as he stands and makes his way back to the kitchen.

As soon as the bathroom door shuts and she flicks on the light, she remembers her hangover. Opening the medicine cabinet, she pops a few ibuprofen and scoops up some water from the running faucet. Unable to take the dirty feeling any longer, she brushes her teeth as she turns the shower on and lets it get hot.

About 20 minutes later, she emerges from her bedroom, showered, comfily dressed, and feeling mostly human, to the smell of bacon and coffee.

Baxter is pushing around eggs in her skillet as she walks over to him, bacon on the burner beside the eggs, and another skillet of potatoes sizzling on the back burner. Standing behind him, she pops her chin onto his shoulder and slides her hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

“You smell good,” Baxter says through a smile that she can only hear.

“So do you,” she purrs as she turns into his neck and nuzzles, enjoying the slight stubble along Baxter’s jawline that meant he had gotten ready in a rush to come and see her.

“Is that so?”

“Shut up,” she bites back playfully, her hands moving to grip his strong thighs from the inside of his pockets. “You know you smell better, look better, and are an infinitely better human than any idiot fuckboy in a club who thinks ‘I have a boyfriend’ is a challenge.”

She feels Baxter chuckle again, and as he steps slightly to the right, she pushes her hands deeper into his pockets, inadvertently exposing a strip of his stomach between his boxer-briefs and his t-shirt.

“Hey—if I get a third degree burn from bacon grease on my junk, I am going to be pissed at you.”

Laughing, she relinquishes her boyfriend and moves to pull down two mugs for coffee.

“You are so sexy, Mister Officer. I can’t help myself—as we clearly learned last night,” she banters back with a slight eyeroll at her own behavior.

“Can I ask you something?”

She puts Baxter’s coffee on the counter closest to where he’s scrambling the eggs, and then leans into the edge before replying, “Of course.”

“Why were you so shitfaced last night? I’ve seen you have a good time, but that seemed … out of character. Or maybe not? I’m just curious.”

“It’s a very legit question, Bax. And you’re right … a little out of character for me.”

Pausing, she takes a sip of her coffee. Baxter turns the burner off for the bacon and moves it from the heat. He turns the potatoes down before running his spatula through them, making sure they don’t burn. Sitting her coffee down, she moves to a cupboard to grab a plate and a few papertowels.

“Sometimes I just want to get fucked up. I wanna not worry for a night. Not overthink. Let the constant yammering in my head take a night off, ya know?”

Baxter nods and asks for two bowls for the scrambled eggs and the potatoes. She moves to the cupboard again and pulls out two white bowls, ones that are just a little bigger than the cereal bowls.

“Any particular worries?”

“Work, always.”

“I feel you on that one,” Baxter replies as he looks around for a serving spoon.

She reads his search and reaches into the drawer to pull one out.

“Toast?” he asks.

“Oh yes. I need all the carbs to quell the queasy.”

As she carries the bacon and eggs to her small in-kitchen table, she says quietly, “And you. Pretty much always.”

Baxter clicks the toaster down and turns to look at his girlfriend, his eyes narrowed and his lips a little tight.

“Me, huh?”

Chewing slightly on the skin behind her lower lip, she crosses to the toaster and leans on the counter opposite of Baxter.

“We talked about this when we first started dating, but I didn’t realize how consuming it would be. I think about the what ifs all the time. I love you. What would I do if—"

“Hey, hey,” Baxter says, cutting her off as he moves into her body, his hands coming up to cup her face.

In return, she slides her arms around his waist, her fingers moving under his t-shirt to touch the bare skin of his back.

Baxter and Y/N look at each other for a long moment before he closes the distance and kisses her, his lips forming perfectly against hers in a tender moment of genuine affection.

When Baxter pulls back, he holds her gaze as he says, “Imagine how I felt hearing that call come in for a club I knew you were at. When I saw you standing outside, I thought I was gonna be sick.”

She looks into Baxter’s eyes, and then both of them jump as the toaster pops, both of them uttering a soft giggle.

Bax presses a quick kiss to her forehead before pulling the toast out and setting it on a plate. She lines herself up behind him again and kisses between his shoulder blades over his t-shirt.

“Let’s both try to worry less.”

“I’m more concerned for any … what did you call him? Idiot fuckface?”

“Boy,” Y/N says, laughing. “Idiot fuckboy.”

“Fuckboy who tries to steal you away.”

“Never, ever gonna happen.”

“Even though I make you worry, like, all the time?”

“You’re worth it—you just may have to answer a few more what are they called? 213s?”

Baxter laughs, his teeth flashing, “Shit, sweetheart. If I had to answer a 213 for you, I think that would be the end of our relationship.”

“What’s a 213?”

“Use of illegal explosives.”

“Oh! Well, then. Nevermind. What’s the whatever I was code?”

“You came in as a 415 and a probable 390.”

“Oooh two codes! Yay me!”

Baxter is still smiling as he sits down catty-corner from his girlfriend.

“A drunken disturbance—pretty typical for a club call. Sorry to disappoint.”

After scooping half of the scrambled eggs onto her plate, she looks at Baxter with sincerity and says, “Thank you for not arresting me.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong—technically.”

“I’m still thankful.”

“And you’re still gonna repay me,” Baxter says, his voice low and his eye shutting with an exaggerated wink.

Laughing, she shakes her head as she takes a big bite of eggs and reaches for the bacon.

“I’m more inclined to fuck you into next week for making this amazing breakfast.”

Baxter’s lips pull down in an exaggerated frown as he shrugs before declaring, “Or we could read this as two separate thank-yous from the tigress. She can feel free to make an appearance whenever she likes.”

“As if I need a reason, Bax.”

Their eyes meet for a moment before Baxter clears his throat, grinning as he tucks into his breakfast.

Conversation flows easily between the two of them, and soon enough, both are leaning back in their chairs, sipping the last dregs of their coffee.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Mostly cured, I believe,” his girlfriend says from over the rim over her mug.

“You going to the gym?”

Baxter shrugs, his fingers drumming on the table.

“In that case,” she says, standing up slowly from her chair, “I think we oughta treat ourselves to a lazy day … in bed.”

“I like … the sound of that,” Baxter replies slowly, taking his girlfriend’s proffered hand. “I did have a really long night. Some drunk broad came on to me while I was arresting her.”

She spins around, feigning offense, and Baxter laughs, his hands whipping to her sides to tickle her. She bats at him and speeds down the hallway to her bedroom, pausing to turn only to be met with a body full of her boyfriend as he tackles her onto the bed.

Still laughing, they look at each other for a moment as their smiles quietly slip into an intense kiss. They both taste like coffee and bacon, their shared meal a reminder of their shared lives.

Baxter settles between her legs, his growing hardness evident through the forgiving material of his sweatpants.

She is dressed only in sleep shorts and a thin t-shirt, so when she pushes her hips into his, she moans at the friction when he bucks back into her.

Baxter’s lips kiss at her chin before he nudges her jaw up by tangling one strong hand in her hair and pulling.

Her lips part with a silent sigh as he kisses down her neck, soft, slow, long kisses where he presses the whole of his full lips against her skin before moving down a fraction to repeat the action. The feeling of his lips on her skin has always driven her wild and today is no exception.

She knows she’s already wet, but she doesn’t want to be needy for him. She keeps thinking back to Baxter’s banter in the kitchen and wondering if it really did hide an insecurity: perhaps he needs some reassurance that he is the sexiest man she has ever been with, that no “model” will ever turn her head when she knows she is coming home to Baxter. Her drunken teasing last night outside of the club meant nothing; she was out of her mind.

But right now—right now, she is here and more than willing to show him how important he is to her.

With a growl, she pushes at Baxter’s shoulders causing him to look up with heavy, confused eyes. With every ounce of lust she feels, she flips Baxter over and straddles him, thrusting her hands in his hair and mimicking his earlier tug of her own head.

“I want you.”

Pulling even tighter on his thick curls, she flattens along his body and starts to nip along his jaw, the stubble chaffing her lips and scratching against her teeth as she mouths at him before moving down his neck.

She licks along the strong muscle and settles into the indentation between the muscle and his windpipe to suck at little patches of skin, not hard enough to leave a mark, but hard enough for Baxter to shiver as he wonders if it will.

She works her way down to the exposed skin at the neck of his t-shirt, pulling on the fabric with her teeth before sitting up so she can maneuver him out of it.

Baxter lays back slowly, propped on his elbows as his girlfriend swirls her hips against his bulge. His mouth falls open and a sigh escapes as she pushes him down again.

He’s fit; his lean muscles standing out enough to make her lick her lips in appreciation and run her hands over his pecs, kneading them before lightly pinching his nipples into stiff peaks. He’s sensitive, everywhere, which always makes their time in the bedroom all the more satisfying.

She flattens her body along his again, his cock now pressing into her stomach as she leans down to kiss across his chest, moving to his right nipple to pinch it between her teeth.

Bax moans and reaches to run his fingers through her hair, pushing it out of the way so he can see her lips on his skin.

Flicking her tongue, she plays with his nipple before moving to the left one to repeat her ministrations, her right hand back to kneading that strong muscle before sliding up to his shoulder and back again.

He has soft skin, mottled with freckles that make her want to kiss them all every time she sees them and a thin smattering of hair on his chest that scratches lightly against her lips as she continues to kiss his chest before following his happy trail to his stomach.

Humming in the back of her throat with pleasure, her tongue swirling through the trail of softer hair, Baxter can barely control his hips. They are desperately trying to rut against her body, and she has a strong feeling he doesn’t even know he’s doing it.

Sitting up slightly, she places her hands on his hips and pushes down.

“Behave for me or you’ll spoil all the fun.”

Baxter looks down, his face the perfect picture of debauchery: cheeks flushed, eyes heavy, and indentations on his bottom lip where he’s been biting.

He blinks, long and slow as if coming out of a fog, then huffs out a tiny laugh, his hands moving up to run through his hair before settling behind his head.

Her eyes trail over the way his biceps flex and she can’t help but reach into the course hairs of his underarms, scratching just enough to make him twitch before she smirks and returns her hands to his stomach.

Moving her body lower, she’s straddling his lower thighs now, Baxter’s thick cock clearly visible beneath the grey fabric, and at this point, she’s barely able to stop herself from stripping and mounting him on the spot.

But she wants him to know how much she needs him and from this angle, he can watch her face, also flushed with swollen lips from kissing his torso, fill with an unabashed desire as she grasps the bulge of his dick.

Slowly, she squeezes, not quite wrapping her hand all the way around his covered length, but pressing into him and sliding upward, jerking him off in the most teasing manner she can manage until a spot of precum leaks through his underwear and stains the grey of his sweats an even darker grey.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You’re killing me,” Baxter mumbles as his big blue eyes are flicking between her hand and her face, almost begging but not quite.

She takes hold of the waistband of his sweats and works them over his hips, Baxter lifting his ass off the mattress to help.

They repeat the process for his underwear, but she scoots down the bed to tug his clothes off. After pulling his socks off, too, she scratches her nails along the bottoms of his feet, making him jerk again, his face grinning as she pinches the big toe on each foot.

“So sensitive,” she breathes, her voice sultry.

She runs her fingers through the thick but soft curls of his leg hair, sliding them up and over his knees, slowing down only to push his thighs apart so his entire package is on display.

He’s so pretty, perfectly proportioned, and she reaches out with both hands to lightly grasp each testicle. She plays with the soft skin and watches Baxter’s cock jump as she applies more pressure, switching his balls to one hand so she can give them a good squeeze.

She takes the base of his dick in her other hand and very lightly begins to stroke him, once again watching the way her boyfriend responds to her touch and feeling the ache in her pussy which has become so pronounced that it feels like its throbbing in time with her heartbeat.

Sliding the thumb of her hand that was playing with his balls beneath them, she presses her thumb into his perineum and begins to move in firm, tiny circles, massaging him until his thighs are twitching and his chest’s rise and fall quickens.

She bends over now to take the tip of Baxter’s cock in her mouth, licking the precum from his slit first before closing over his head and lightly sucking. She slides her mouth over him, taking as much of his shaft as she can until Baxter begins to breathlessly plead.

“Stop—stop. I want to come inside your pussy.”

As if she couldn’t get wetter, the way Baxter’s mouth moves as he pleads sends a fresh wave of arousal to her center.

“Ride me, please. Wanna watch you.”

With a quiet groan at his words, she slides off the bed and strips out of her clothes. Baxter’s head turns to watch and he licks his lips before pulling on his worn, bottom lip, doing that thing that always makes her feel like a teenager again, crushing on the cutest boy she’d ever seen.

Baxter shifts on the bed, adding another pillow behind him so he’s sitting up a bit more as his girlfriend straddles his hips. Still holding herself over him, she reaches between her legs and slides her fingers through her slickness.

Holding them up, coated in the evidence of her arousal, she murmurs, “Look at what you do to me, Bax,” before slipping them into her mouth.

“Kiss me,” he says, his eyes trained on her lips as she removes her fingers, the intensity of his gaze a bare beacon of his desire to taste her.

Leaning forward, she braces her palm on his chest as she kisses him, and with her other hand, she maneuvers his dick to her entrance, sliding down onto him, pulling his groan of satisfaction into her own mouth as she deepens the kiss.

“You feel so good,” she groans out as she breaks the kiss and stills her hips so she can just bask in the sensation of being filled up by the gorgeous man underneath her.

“So fucking good,” he answers.

After grabbing onto a fist full of dark curls and tilting his face up, she gives him a wicked smile as she starts to move, rising up and falling down at a teasingly slow pace.

She loves the feeling of control, but what she really loves is watching the way Baxter’s mouth falls open as he pants out his pleasure, his hands sliding over her hips and reaching up to grasp her breasts. He pulls on her nipples before he lets his hands fall to her hips again, silently encouraging her to bounce on his cock before asking again.

“Fuck me. Show me how much you want me.”

All teasing is dispatched with as the room fills with the sounds of their pants and moans, both of them lost in the bliss of good sex between people who know what their partner likes and what their partner needs.

Her clit is swollen, aching for his touch and as he nears his orgasm she waits, patient, wanting him to come inside of her, wanting him to get lost in his own pleasure.

Baxter’s hand slides around and tries to touch her, but she grasps both of his hands and brings them to her breasts, squeezing them with him as she grinds into him, swirling her hips before rising and falling, repeating the motion until she can tell he’s about to come because his chest is red and when she steadies herself with one hand over his heart, she can feel it beating hard.

His hips buck up erratically into hers as his lips purse with an exhaled breath and he begins to groan, his face twisted into a magnificent ecstasy as he lets go, his hot cum shooting thickly all over her inner walls, the feeling something she would struggle to explain but nonetheless it’s a feeling that causes her eyes to close at the intimacy of it.

His heartbeat is slowing as she opens her eyes, unable to stop her smug grin at the way she’s left him damn-near cross-eyed after coming for her, but as he begins to wiggle out of her body, it’s clear he knows she needs him, really needs him, so Baxter pulls her to him as he flips her onto her back and quickly moves to between her thighs.

He admires his handywork for a moment, his thick fingers playing in their mixed arousal before he latches onto her clit and sucks. He glances up and her head is thrown back as her hands grasp her breasts; she looks like a goddess to Baxter as she pulls on her nipples and bites her lip, finally giving herself over to his mouth.

He releases the pressure and flicks his tongue rapidly over her clit before sucking again, this time, his suction pulling out her orgasm in a near-violent wave of release as his name echoes off the walls of her bedroom.

Baxter licks lightly at her clit, coaxing her down until her thighs press against his face, signaling him to stop. He presses a kiss to her mound, then to her stomach, right beneath her belly button before he presses a final kiss to her sternum and lays flat, his head nestled between her breasts.

She reaches down and swipes at the sweat along his hairline, running her hands gently through his hair.

“Mmm. Mmhmm,” Baxter sounds, and she can see his eyes are closed, his dark lashes resting prettily along the skin beneath his eyes.

“I think that was the best cure for a hangover I’ve ever had.”

“Not the bacon? Or potatoes?” he mumbles.

“No—definitely just you. You are the ultimate cure for a hangover.”

“Box me up and sell me. We’ll never have to work again.”

“Like I would ever fucking share that with any other human on earth. You’re mine, Officer Cutie Pants.”

Baxter laughs, his breath a warm puff across her skin. He twists his position, his chin now resting on her chest so he can smile at her, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I’ll be only yours as long as you’ll be only mine.”

“Hmm,” she replies, pressing her lips together in mock-thought. “I think forever sounds like a good amount of time.”

“Forever it is,” Baxter answers, pushing up to lean over her face, his kiss full of a gentle, loving warmth.

* * * * *

Our fancy bean never wears sweats, so this is all I’ve got for reference material:

Special thanks to @sherlollydramoine for nurturing my muse at 2 am 💞

Tags: @ramimedley @clumsybookworm18 @r-ahh-mi @aboutthatmelancholystorm @alottanothing @sherlollydramoine @txmel @diasimar @hah0106 @flipper-kisses @rami-malek-trash @ramisgirl512 @dancing-disco-deacy @just-a-queen-bee @eightiesriot @s-k-y-w-a-l-k-e-r @breadnbutternips

#detective cutie pants #rami malek #baxter baxter #baxter #Rami Malek smut #detective cutie pants smut #detective cutie pants x reader #female reader #rami malek character #little things

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velasnyx · 5 years

Text

Welcome to the Pack Ch.8

I was about to leave for work when my doorbell rang. Who could that be at this time? I opened the door, revealing Mia.

“Hey”. How the hell did she find out where I live? “Hi. How did you find my apartment?” I asked. “I called the station and a guy told me your address,” she answered. I sighed. She must be talking about Gumshoe. I’ll have to tell him not to give my address to strangers over the phone.

“Alright. Did you need something?” I asked. She dug into her coat and handed me a gun. I looked at her confused. “It’s a replacement for the one I broke. Consider it a welcome to the pack gift,” she explained. That’s right. She crushed my gun to bits last night. It was the same model too. “How’d you get a gun like this?” I aaled. “Let’s just say I know a guy”.

I raised a brow. “I’m not too sure you should be telling a cop that”. She laughed. “Well, I couldn’t let you walk around without one. And I was the one who broke your other one. It’s only fair that I’d be the one responsible for a replacement,” Mia said. I chuckled. “Yeah, I guess so. Thanks, Mia”. She patted my shoulder. “Don’t mention it. Pass by the temple tonight. We’re gonna start your training”. I was a bit shocked.

“So soon?” I asked. She gave me a look. “Listen, you’re gonna want to get this down as soon as possible.The full moon won’t wait for you,” she replied. I nodded. She’s right. If I want to make sure I’m not a threat to other people, I have to devote time to the training. “I’ll be there tonight”.

“Skye, I got a new case for you and Dick. Missing persons,” the Captain said, dropping a file on my desk. I looked through it. “They last saw her at the Borscht Bowl Club, where she works,” the Captain added. Natalia Volkov. 22 years old. Works as a bartender at the Borscht Bowl Club where was she last seen.

“I’ll get right on it, Captain,” I said. The Captain nodded and walked into their office. I searched for Natalia in the system. She doesn’t have a record so it’s unlikely she has any enemies that would want to get back at her. Looks like it might just be the usual. Some sick fuck wants a young pretty girl. How does the world and up with people like this? “Gumshoe, let’s go to the Borscht Bowl and see what we can find out. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” I said.

We got to the club. It wasn’t very busy. They must’ve just opened. “Table for two?” a woman with blonde hair asked. “No. We’re Detectives, here to investigate the disappearance of Natalia Volkov,” I answered.

The blonde woman’s demeanor changed. She seemed bothered by something. Either about her co-worker going missing or us being here to investigate. I wasn’t sure which one it was though.

“Do you mind if we ask some questions?”. She nodded. Gumshoe took out a notepad and pencil. “Did anything seem off with Natalia the day of her disappearance?” I asked. She shook her head. “She wasn’t nervous about anything?”. “No. Natalia’s not one to get nervous. She usually pretty level headed,” the woman responded. “And she never expressed a want to runaway?” Gumshoe asked. “Not a chance. Her and her brother came here from Russia with nothing. They spent fifteen years trying to earn a decent living. There’s no way she’d want to turn her back on that,” she replied. I nodded. I can relate to that.

If Natalia is as level headed as this lady says she is then it might end up being a kidnapping. “So, Natalia was last seen here. So do you, by any chance, have an idea of where she could’ve gone after work?” I asked. “Well, she didn’t disappear after her shift. She went to take a break in the alley behind the building. That was the last time I saw her,” the woman responded. “I’ll check out the alley. You keep asking her questions,” I told Gumshoe.

Maybe they left some clues. “We usually leave through the back door for a smoke break. It’s past the kitchen, first door on your left,” the waitress said. “Thanks”.

I looked around the back of the restaurant. I noticed marks on the wall. They looked as if knives carved through it. Or…claws. I kept looking around. I started to smell blood. I followed the scent and found it on the floor a few feet away. Something happened between her and another person. There definitely was a struggle. But nobody heard anything?

I smelt something else. It was sweet. Almost like a vanilla scent. I followed it to a strange purple powder. I’ve never seen anything like this.

I had to think for a couple minutes. Had to piece this together. Those scratches on the wall… they have to be claw marks. That leaves the possibility that Natalia is a werewolf. Whatever this powder is, it was used against her. I don’t know what it is but maybe Mia will.

I pulled out a plastic bag and scooped some of the powder in. I didn’t take too much. Don’t want to make it seem like I’m tampering with the crime scene.

Gumshoe came out and I quickly put the bag in my coat. “Find anything?” he asked. I nodded. “Yeah. There was blood over there along with signs of struggle by the door and an unknown substance in the floor,” I replied. “So, it’s settled. She was definitely kidnapped”. I nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to get forensics here. Make sure every inch of this place is searched,” I said.

Looking up, I noticed a camera. I hope that thing works. It could blow this case wide open. “Did that waitress say anything about the camera?” I asked. Gumshoe shook his head.

We walked back in. The waitress was nowhere to be found. Instead, we were accosted by a man. “You are the detectives?” he asked. “Uh… yes,” I answered. “Where did that blonde lady g-,” the man cut Gumshoe off. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” he said. Well, this came out it if left field. Gumshoe and I looked at each other.

“Sir, we think there might be more clues that can point us in the right direction,” I explained. He shook his head. “I don’t care. If you want to continue searching then you��ll have to get a warrant”. I sighed. “Listen… you know what? Fine. We’ll leave,” I said. “Ema!” Gumshoe said, shocked. “Lets go, Gumshoe”. I started walking away. “But Ema!”. “Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing more to be done here,” I said.

I think it’s best for me to have Mia get involved rather than the police. She’ll know more about this. This is all too new for me so I can’t do it by myself. And to be honest, I don’t know what to do. It this girl is a werewolf then the people who took her had some kind of advantage over her. It could be the hunters that were chasing Mia that night.

“Maybe we could talk to her brother. That waitress gave me his address,” Gumshoe said. “You think he could have some new information on this?”. Gumshoe shrugged. “We don’t have a lot to go on. I think we should take any chance we got. Maybe we’ll get lucky,” he said.

I guess he’s right. At least it could give me an opportunity to talk to her brother. Maybe he has an idea of who took her.

We arrived at the apartment. Gumshoe knocked on the door. We didn’t wait long for it to open. A man, who I could only assume was her brother, stood in the doorway.

“May I help you?” he asked. “Good afternoon, I’m Detective Skye. This is my partner Detective Gumshoe. We’re investigating your sister’s disappearance? We were wondering if maybe you had any clues as to where she could’ve gone or what could’ve happened,” I said. “I wish I knew. If I had any clues, I would’ve gone after her a long time ago,” he said.

I heard a faint thumping. It was fast paced. I looked around but didn’t see anything that could have been making the noise. I tried to ignore it. “You don’t have an idea if someone was targeting her or wanted to hurt her?” Gumshoe asked. The thumping got louder and faster. Her brother shook his head.

That thumping was coming from him. It was his heartbeat. I could hear his heartbeat! “We know that the last time she was seen was at work. She went out for a smoke break and never came back. You don’t have any information we could add to that?” Gumshoe said. “Unfortunately, no,” the brother answered. Gumshoe nodded.

Her brother gave me a weird look. I must’ve been staring at him. I looked away. “Thank you for your time. If anything comes up, you can call us,” Gumshoe said, handing over a business card. “Get the car started. I’ll be right behind you,” I told Gumshoe. “Uh… okay, pal”.

I was left with Natalia’s brother. I looked around, making sure no one was around. “I know what your sister is,” I said. He became bothered. His heartbeat was going crazy. He was scared. “I know someone who can help,” I said. I gave him my card. “Call me directly if anything,” I said. He nodded. He still seemed scared. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me”.

I sat at a table with a couple of friends from work. We had won a big case and came to the bar just outside of town, to celebrate. “Wow, look at her,” one of my friends said. I followed their gaze to a woman across the bar. She learned back, resting her elbows on the bar top.

She was stunning. “So, who’s gotta go up and get her number?”. Not this again. They’re always playing this stupid game. “Lana seems mighty interested,” Jake said. I rolled my eyes. “She probably doesn’t want to be bothered,” I said. He shrugged. “Probably. You won’t know until you find out. All you gotta do is go up and take your shot. If she’s not interested then you just drop it and walk away. No harm, no foul, bambina”. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes again. Especially, which his whole cowboy façade. The guy’s from Sacramento for Christ sake. Doesn’t get less old western than that.

“Fine. But this is the only time I’m ever doing this,” I said. “Good luck”. I started walking over. This is so stupid. I can’t believe I’m doing this. Screw it. I should turn back now. I’ll only make a fool out of myself. I don’t even know how to talk to girls. I’m not flirtatious. I’ve got the personality of a lightly salted piece of cardboard, how am I going to be appealing? Maybe I can use one of those pick up lines Ema taught me. How did it go again?

Next thing I knew, I was in front of her. She turned her head to me. “Hello,” she said in a friendly and somewhat silky tone. I tensed up. How do I speak English again? How do I used my vocal chords to make sounds? “Hi,” I said. That it. Is that all you’re going to say? She raised a brow. Abort. Abort. “I’m sorry but my friends made me come up here so I could get your number. I’m sorry I bothered you,” I said. I quickly turned and began to walk away. “Hold on!”. I turned to her again. She smiled at me. My heart was practically beating out of my chest. She’s even more beautiful when up close. Especially with a smile like that.

“You have a pen?” she asked. A pen, a pen. I patted my pockets. I had one in my coat but it’s back at the table. Damn! She chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, hun. Hey, Diego you got a pen?”. A man walked over. My stomach dropped when I saw him. Damn it. Now I really feel stupid.

She handed me her number written on a napkin. She wrote “call me” with a heart next to it. “Thanks,” I said. “I’ll see you around?” she asked. “Yeah, hopefully”. “I look forward it”.

I started to walk away. “We should get going. She’s probably already at the temple,” she said to the main. “Yeah. Hey, can I drive?” he said. “Haha, very funny". I got some sympathetic looks from my friends.

I got to the temple. “You’re a little late,” Diego said. “Yeah, work was really busy today. I’m working a case that I think is gonna need some help from you guys,” I said. He raised his brows at me. “From us? Must be a special case then”. Diego unlocked the hidden passageway and we made our way down.

Mia was waiting for us. With her back turned to us, I noticed she had a massive tattoo on her back and arms. “I hope you’re ready,” she said. “I’m ready for anything. But first, I have something to tell you,” I replied. Mia turned to me. She had a scar that ran down the left side of her face. She was blind in her left eye. I was taken aback by how different she looked from when I saw her yesterday.

“Woah, what happened?” I asked. “Oh, this old thing? Long story,” she said. “Okay… well, this girl, Natalia Volkov, was kidnapped from her job the other day. When I looked in the alley where she was having her break, I found claw marks, blood, and this powder,” I said. I held up the bag of that purple powder I had collected. “Hm. So, you think she’s a werewolf?” Mia asked. I nodded. “Well, you’d be right. That powder is wolfsbane. Odds are she was taken by hunters”. Hunters? God, if she was taken by hunters then what are the odds she’s still alive? What am I supposed to tell her brother? Now I’m nervous. I gave him the idea that I could help him and his sister. I’m not so sure.

“You think she's…”. I didn’t want to say it. Mia sighed. “I’ll check out the crime scene. Maybe I can find something,” she said. I nodded. “Diego will train you. If I find anything, I’ll call you”. Diego? But isn’t he… “He’ll teach you how to control the first form which will be easy. Then he’ll teach you how to fight,” Mia said. What? I looked over at Diego. He didn’t seem fazed. “I think I know how to fight,” I said. “Like a human. This is different. You need to learn how to fight like an animal. You fight like a human against another werewolf, you’re dead. You’ll figure that out how much of a disadvantage you’re at when you fight Diego,” Mia said.

You gotta be kidding me. “You’re gonna have me fight him?”. She can’t be for real. Mia nodded. “No. No way. I’m not gonna beat up a blind guy. The fuck, Mia?” I said. She laughed. “Ema, you really shouldn’t underestimate him. He’s one the strongest werewolves in the L.A. packs,” she said. “Was. You’re the strongest, Mia,” Diego said. Mia rolled her eyes. “Don’t hold back with him. You’ll regret it. See ya”. She walked out, leaving me with him.

I still don’t like this. Fighting a blind guy? That just sounds wrong.

#ace attorney au #emaziska au #ema skye #emaziska #lanamia werewolf au #lanamia au #mia fey #chihiro ayasato #ace attorney werewolf au #lana skye

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baek-beauty · 6 years

Text

Just For You - Chapter 07

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: VampireAu, Romance, Fluff, Smut (in later chapters), Action, Thriller, Slight! Angst.

Just For You: Plot Mini Masterlist

Length: 4.8 k words

Previous Chapter

no smut yet but HOT :p _____________________________ ______________

Fear.

That’s what you were experiencing right now. You felt trapped in a dark bubble as if the world was suffocating you with its problems.

Flashes of the horrible scene dashed through your mind disrupting you even more. If only you could shut your brain somehow, block all sort of thoughts away.

It was scaring you. Closing your eyes terrified you.

You jolted out of bed and climbed down your window setting your target in mind. Before you could even knock on the glass, the window swiftly opened. Baekhyun standing on the other side of it, a look of worry and concern smeared on his brownish orbs.

He tugged on your hand and dragged you inside. And there you were, standing in front of your man with all those bad thoughts clouding your mind. You tried to mumble a word but none came out. Baekhyun sensed your struggle so he shushed you pressing his thumb against your lips as the other fingers caressed your cheek. He pulled on your waist, bringing you closer to his flesh.

Baekhyun was too calm for your liking, especially after the previous events. His quiet demeanor agitated you but nevertheless calmed you down. He was the only one able to make you distressed and that was exactly what you needed now.

You felt his thumb brush delicately against your lips, his gaze flickering between them and your bright hazel eyes. The sweet gesture ran a tingling sensation through your body making your lips part slightly.

You closed your eyes enjoying the light feeling as your breath steadied again.

“Baekhyun, I need you. Images keep replaying in my mind repeatedly. I cannot shut them down. Please Baekhyun.” The aching sound vibrated in the room letting Baekhyun grasp the worry and disturbance you were enduring.

“Calm down baby. I’m here.” Baekhyun leaned in pressing his forehead against yours. His breath was minty, so refreshing and appealing.

With his comforting voice and the secure hold onto your body, you could feel all the thoughts fading away, not leaving behind any reminiscence of what might cause you anxiety.

“Just breathe princess.” He pulled you flush against his body, letting the heat resonating from him run through you.

A soft smile crept on your cheeks hearing the endearment. See? This man had some sort of powers, being able to get to you only by saying one word!

“So I’m your princess now?!” You moved back fixing your eyes on his before you flashed him a mocking smile.

“No,” his gaze stiffened, peering at you as if it was a life or death situation.

“You’re actually my queen, the queen of my heart.” Baekhyun was staring at you with complete adoration; a sweet smile showing on his lips.

You looked at him deadpan hitting his shoulder jokingly. That was for messing with you.

“How cheesy can you get Baekhyun?”

“I can go as cheesy as you want love. But you know every word said is the complete truth.”

“Hmm, I know that oppa.” You nodded your head and rested it onto his chest.

“Baekhyun. I want to sleep here tonight, if that’s okay with you.” You blurted out in a quiet and shy tone. His hands squeezed your tiny waist locking you in his hold.

“If it were for me, I wouldn’t let you step out of this room.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his cuteness. If asked honestly, you wouldn’t want to leave his room as well.

“I’m so glad you’re back Baekhyun.” You buried your face in the crook of his neck, enjoying his manly smell.

“So am I baby. I promise you everything is going to be okay. You trust me don’t you sweetheart?”

“Of course I do. I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Since you trust me then do not worry your pretty head love. Nothing is going to happen. We’ll be fine. Dad is already contacting my uncle to get a lead on the killings.”

You hummed in response, the tiredness unleashing on your body. You wanted nothing more than to hug Baekhyun to sleep. And as if he read your mind, Baekhyun knew perfectly well what you needed as he asked you.

“Do you want me to get you a pyjama love?”

“No, I’ll just wear your shirt.” You tugged on his buttoned up shirt as if telling him to remove it. He complied with you, chuckling at your adorable behavior, however not before he placed you down on the bed breaking the impact of his body against yours.

____________________________

“Yes auntie, she’s still sleeping.”

You woke up to the faint voice of your boyfriend talking on the phone with what seemed as your mother. You shifted a bit in bed making Baekhyun turn towards you, a tender smile tugged on his features. You couldn’t help but grin at him. With that morning hair of his, tossed back messily. He was just breathtaking.

“Don’t worry about her when she is with me.” Baekhyun brushed back the few locks that fell on your forehead, hiding the twinkle in your eyes.

He was admiring your irradiating face.

He still can’t help but wonder how you can be this beautiful first thing in the morning. You were a goddess for his eyes, and only his.

“We’ll see you later then, have a great breakfast with mom.”

The minute the line went off, Baekhyun leaned hovering over you and pressed a sweet peck onto your forehead.

“Good morning baby.” He nuzzled his nose against yours and then trailed it down to your cheek earning him the giggle he loved to hear coming out of your pretty mouth.

“Hmm, morning Baekkie.”

Waking up next to Baekhyun! You were really getting used to it and you surely didn’t want to let it go ever.

“How did my princess sleep?”

“Pretty well actually, thanks to someone. How about you?”

“Sleeping with you between my arms and waking up to your beauty first thing in the morning? I think I hit the jackpot.” You were pleased to hear that nevertheless the amusement in his tone making you laugh.

“I didn’t know a vampire can be this romantic.”

“We can. When we’re head over heels in love.” His sincere words sparked inside of you as the redness took over your face.

“I love you Baekhyun.”

“So do I love.” He brought his hand to your neck massaging it and leaned in kissing you on the lips.

“That was your mom, she called me after she tried many times your phone. She was worried since you weren’t in bed but she kind of figured out you would be here.”

“Ahhh- and what did you tell her?” Your voice came out muffled. You were enjoying the touch of his fingers running soothing patterns on your neck.

“Just that you weren’t able to sleep without your sexy boyfriend besides you.” Trying to act cocky suited Baekhyun. Hell! Everything suited him.

“I guess you’re dreaming way too much lately oppa.”

“Am I now?!” His mouth curled into a teasing smirk while his eyebrow lifted in a questioning manner.

“Not gonna answer that.” You plopped your head back onto the cushion and hid it under the cover.

“Fine fine. I told her you weren’t feeling well after the whole news thing and weren’t able to sleep. So it was best for you to be with me since you always relax besides me.”

“How did she react?” You weren’t scared of your mom’s reaction, she was very okay with you spending your nights with Baekhyun, since he was yours and you were his. Plus, she trusted him. You were completely safe in her eyes as long as Baekhyun was around you.

“She was very okay with it, maybe even more than okay actually. She just asked if you slept well and then told me to take care of you cause she’s out having breakfast with my mom.”

“They don’t worry much about me when you’re around.”

“Well of course, oppa will take care of his baby all the time.”

He didn’t let you talk as his eyes turned a bit dark before he added.

“You know, she also told me that our fathers are at a meeting. So there’s no one here but us.” It wasn’t only that his eyes went a shade darker but he also bit down on his bottom lip and shifted towering over your frame. You knew what he was implying; you understood perfectly well that lustful look. You were about to give in to him but it wasn’t going to be this easy.

“Ohhh… so that means you’re going to cook breakfast for your princess while she showers. You’re too sweet Baekkie.”

“Wait, n-.“ You flipped both of your bodies, this time you were on top. You gave him that innocent quirky smile and pecked him before you got up quickly moving towards the bathroom and leaving him behind.

“Young lady come back here, why do you do this.” He started to whine like a twelve year old. It was hard for you not to look back at his adorable pouty face but you weren’t going to let him win.

“You’re so dramatic Baekhyun. Just go and start cooking breakfast, I ll shower and come help you after.”

____________________________

Turning off the shower head, you dried your body keeping your hair wet to dry off on it’s own. You went to Baekhyun’s closet and picked up one of his long white v shirts, it was too loose on you that it kept falling from one shoulder and it barely covered your upper thighs. But if anything, his clothes were always too comfy for you to wear and you liked how you appeared in them. Not to forget Baekhyun would love you in nothing but his shirts day and night.

You flipped your hair on the exposed shoulder trying to hide a bit of your skin before you entered the kitchen only to admire the sexiest sight ever.

Baekhyun was leaning on the bar next to the stove wearing nothing but a short and an apron that covered a bit of his bare chest while he flipped the pancake high in the air giving you a nice view of his muscular shoulders.

As if sensing your presence in the room, he turned in your direction, eyes transforming a shade darker. He scanned you up and down unblinking. Your focus scooted to his lips when you noticed him licking his bottom one, the desire building up in his appearance.

Your gaze fell to the ground trying to hide a smile as you walked closer to the counter eyeing the food on it. When you looked up at him again, he was still totally enhanced by you. Clearing your throat, you hoped to bring him out of his thoughts since you couldn’t handle the way he was ogling at you anymore.

To your luck it worked making him shift in his place to turn the stove off and pick the pancake before turning back at you. His face was still unexplainable and he tried not to look directly at your face as if he would break or something.

“Y-you-… I mean I… I made breakfast, the pancakes you like.” He uttered, breaking the silence and moved to the counter not once glancing at you.

“Thank you oppa.”

Baekhyun rubbed his neck looking at you briefly before staring back down at the table.

“Yeah it’s nothing! Shall we eat?”

If you wanted to make him feel any weirder, you would’ve chuckled aloud seeing his reaction. You grinned admiring his cuteness. You didn’t know you affected him this much. Yeah wearing his shirt was one of his weaknesses but you didn’t think it would go this far.

Settling down on the barstools, Baekhyun placed the plate in front of you. Two pancakes with maple syrup stirred on top and covered with some slices of your favorite fruits. Strawberry, raspberry and banana. You didn’t know you were starving until you saw the delicious plate. You looked up at Baekhyun giving him a grateful smile and squeezed his hand as a thank you.

This time he stared at you. He didn’t turn away, he just watched you, his eyes twinkled in joy seeing you happy.

As you started eating, Baekhyun was awfully quiet every time he took a bite he would flash you a quick look only to move his gaze away again.

“Hmm, Baekkie this is too delicious. I missed your special pancakes.”You beamed at him waiting for any sort of reply. What you didn’t expect was a chuckle.

Baekhyun was chuckling, his eyes on your face mostly on… your lips?

“What? Why you laughing?”

“You eat like a child sometimes you know that?”

Hearing him, you understood there was something on your lips so you started darting your tongue over them out of impulse, never hitting the right spot. Baekhyun growled in frustration making you stop in your act to look at him. His face darkening with arousal.

He leaned in and you didn’t move a single bone when you felt his mouth mostly his tongue on your bottom lip, licking the spot as he tasted the syrup resting on it. When he broke the contact moving back in his previous position, eyes closed with a heavy breathing sound coming out of him.

“Hmm. Who knew syrup would taste even better from your lips.”

As if his gesture alone wasn’t enough of a turn on, he had to say that didn’t he?!

Your gaze went to him and he threw a small side smirk at you, knocking the wind out of your lungs. He still made you feel intimidated even after all this time. His strong deep and dimmed eyes were on you entirely filled with passion, affection, so in love.

You couldn’t deny the excitement you were feeling. He got to you hard and you were sure this time you weren’t going to win. So why even bother?!

You calmed down your nerves deciding to play along.

“I bet you would even eat a cucumber from my mouth.” You stared at him teasingly not darting your eyes away from his.

“Maybe I would. We should probably try it.” His smirk grew bigger as he winked at you.

“You would love that, wouldn’t you?”

You rolled your eyes when you saw the mischievous expression on his face unfaltering. Wanting to break it away, you rose from your seat reaching for the syrup on the far end of the counter. Your pancakes were sweet enough but your intentions were somewhere else which Baekhyun had no clue of.

It was only when you heard him choking did you know that your plan worked. Since you climbed up a bit high the shirt exposed more of your bear thighs letting Baekhyun have a good view.

“Baek-ahh eat slowly. You’re not a child!” It didn’t take him a second to figure out your devilish act. He shifted closer to you, his eyes dancing between your face and your body.

“I would! How about some strawberries and cream?” Baekhyun answered the previous question, ignoring your last comment. The way he was gaping at you was unbearable; he was undressing you with his hard gaze.

You laughed at his reply trying to divert the tension that was building up inside of you.

“You can wish for that oppa.” You grabbed your fork catching a piece of pancakes with a strawberry when you caught his breath brushing onto your neck, only few inches separating you both.

“You know what I wish to do now?” You hummed in response as you brought the fork to your mouth chewing on the food when he replied.

“To pin you against that wall right now and tear that shirt off your body.”

You smothered on the pancake trying hard to swallow it. Your face flushed red instantly as you looked at him blinking over and over.

“What?”

How much you wished to make that smirk disappear from his face right now.

“Baek-ahhhh! You can’t say things like that.” You whined, hiding your face between the palm of your hands.

“Yahh, you don’t have the right to ask this after that stunt you pulled. Don’t think I didn’t notice it love. Besides I’m being honest baby. You’re torturing me, do you know that?”

“Ugh, you’re not playing it fair Baekhyun,” you groaned at him shaking your head between your hands.

Baekhyun pulled away your hands making you look up to him and tugged on them sliding you onto his lap. He rested his hands right at the bottom of your back securing you between his arms. You were straddling him, your thighs bare as the shirt lifted even more showcasing even more to the man.

When your eyes reached his, it felt like electricity shooting between your bodies as the tension went rising undeniably high.

“Fair? You’re breaking my every resolve Y/N. Everytime you walk into the room, you out-stand everyone around you with your grace and elegance, which makes them all admire you and that makes me grow mad. I really feel like shoving them all away and take you some place where we can be alone.” He chuckled at the thought circling his mind once again. Your heart swelled at his words, so much to the point that you had to bite back the tears that were forming in your eyes.

“Baby you’re beauty is divine in and out. I thank God everyday that you’re mine.” You could feel his deep breath brushing against your neck as it drove a tingling sensation right through you.

Your eyes were still in a battle of dominance against each other until Baekhyun moved his hand to your inner thigh caressing it. You took a sharp breath feeling his fingers move ever so soothingly on your skin and make you shut your eyes in complete bliss.

“I love you Y/N. I don’t know how much longer I can hold.”

You focused your gaze back on him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Two more weeks Baek, we sh-“

Baekhyun cut you off kissing you hungrily as if his world depended on it. Feeling all sorts of emotions, you squeezed your legs tighter around his waist making him groan in frustration.

“Fuck this.”

He pressed on your hips bringing you even closer to him, your inner thigh touching his bare abs. You held back a moan feeling the friction forming at the touch of your bodies.

He kissed you again, however, this time it was more passionate and you kissed him back feverishly. Not a second later, Baekhyun trailed his hand down your back and rested it on your ass, squeezing it slightly. Your mouth flew open giving him access to explore it.

The sensation of the heat overflowing your body and the cold one coming out from him as it merged, sent shivers down your spine. You leaned in to him more, wanting to feel every touch and breath. You moaned arching your back the moment you felt something poked at your lower region.

Baekhyun took this as a sign and traced his kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your scent, your body scent was driving him crazy.

“It’s too hard to control myself with your wearing this. You aren’t making this easy on me sweetheart.” The ache in his voice was undeniable. You placed your hand onto his cheek, staring at him intently. Love and passion filling your eyes. You pressed a soft kiss to his lips, smiling at the contact of your lips together.

Baekhyun picked you up in his arms without a notice and pushed you against the wall. You would be lying if you said you didn’t find this sexy. This man was making you feel all sorts of things.

The air thickened in the room as Baekhyun bent lower and grabbed your face. His mouth went to yours kissing you again, flicking his wet muscle over your lips. He pressed you hard back into the wall and you felt his hands roaming around your body trailing down to your thigh slapping it lightly, only playfulness behind his action. You whined, about to flash him a glare before he leaned in again to press a kiss on your lips.

You felt his fingers dig into your flesh and squeeze. You pulled your leg up even further than it was and hanging around his torso. He sucked on your lip and you felt his teeth bite down. However, it didn’t last long as his mouth left yours and moved down to your neck. Baekhyun opened his mouth and you could feel him taste your skin with the tip of his tongue before his teeth bit down on it hard. You let your eyes flutter shut as you rested your head on the wall allowing the sighs and soft moans you held back earlier to fill the room.

Baekhyun didn’t stop at that, it was as if he was unable to control himself anymore and you didn’t want to stop him. Hell no! You wanted this as much as him.

He moved his hands under your shirt, pushing the fabric upward and feeling your soft skin with his fingertips. You shivered involuntarily, breath coming out in short gasps.

What you did next was unexpected… you pushed your body grinding on him. Baekhyun’s eyes bored into you, the sight of lust and hunger echoed through them. He didn’t mutter a word though. Both of you panting uncontrollably.

You pulled his head closer to yours wanting to kiss the hell out of him. Your body, your expression, you were dripping with desire and he noticed that.

“You’re really naughty sweetheart.” Baekhyun shifted his face even closer, the playfulness in his aura making you go crazier.

“I wonder who’s fault is that.” And with that, you crashed your lips onto his, filling your every desire into this one heated lip lock.

And if it weren’t for the sound of the front door opening, you would’ve devoured each other out.

You pulled back, face reddish at the heated encounter. Baekhyun brought you back to the chair settling you down on it and resting in his own. You were both gasping for air to fill your lunges again.

“Helloo?!” Mrs. Byun’s voice coming from the entrance brought you back to reality.

“In the kitchen.” Baekhyun replied picking your hand and squeezing it in a way asking you if you were alright. You smiled affectionately at him, as you were calming down from your previous hot session.

Mrs. Byun entered the kitchen followed by your mother. A taunting smile plastered on their faces as they saw you both. Where you still flustered? Hopefully they didn’t know much. Both of you totally forgot your appearances as Baekhyun wasn’t wearing any shirt and you were in nothing but his dress shirt.

“Why are you back so early?” You questioned them, still wishing they would’ve came later since they broke your precious time with your boyfriend.

“We totally forgot we have a charity meeting in an hour so we rushed home to pick up the documents before attending.” Your mom answered you, her eyes scanning your attire as you finally took notice of your wardrobe. You buried yourself in your seat trying to pull down the hem of the shirt to cover a bit of your legs all along wishing Baekhyun’s shirt was a bit longer.

His eyes turned to you, gaping at what you were doing when his body jolted upwards sinking in what he saw. You didn’t even notice, that when you were pulling on the shirt you gave a perfect sight of your wet thong to the man.

Baekhyun jumped up from his seat making you all look at him.

“I-… I’m gonna go shower before work.” He didn’t look at his mom nor yours, he just peered at you few times sending you a weird look that confused you before he paced quickly towards the stairs.

“Didn’t you shower in the morning though?”

Baekhyun halted in his track, turning a bit only for you to see his front. It was when you noticed his hands covering his front and you knew right away why he needed that shower. You blushed insanely biting your lips from the inside trying to hold back the laughter from reaching your reddened cheeks.

“Well-… I-… no…Y/N spilled some syrup on my chest and it’s sticky.” He glanced at you tauntingly trying to pin the blame on you before he walked out of the kitchen hurrying to his bedroom.

You looked at both woman agape, not knowing what to say back so you just chuckled awkwardly.

Mrs. Byun as if she knew what happened in her kitchen earlier winked at you with a grin creeping on her lips.

“Sooo, how was breakfast?” You asked them trying to diffuse the tension by changing the subject.

“It was a bit rushed but you know eggs and coffee is our favorite.”

“How was yours?” Your mom spoke up, and you sensed her teasing tone. You had to act cool about this. Replying in a nonchalant manner would be a great idea, right?

“It was delicious, I missed Baekhyun’s pancakes.” Both of them chuckled at your cute behavior, they knew how much you loved Baekhyun’s recipe. He only ever cooked them for you.

“Ahh, by the way sweetie don’t forget that in the afternoon we are leaving. So I would prefer if you and Baekhyun stayed in the same house till we got back.”

“I don’t think you had to even suggest that.” Mrs. Byun said to your mom in amusement.

Since a four day holiday was coming, your parents and Baekhyun’s decided to go on a small vacation, leaving you and Baekhyun alone.

Alone. With Baekhyun. For four days. Hmmm…

“Yeah-… uhh we’ll just stay at our house then.” You stood up to clean the counter but thankfully remembered your attire.

“Well look at the time, I’ll go change my clothes.” You rushed out of the door not glancing once at both woman even though they had a wide smile onto their faces.

____________________________

“I’ll see you in a few love.” Baekhyun muttered before kissing your lips.

You opened the door of the G class and pulled yourself out of the seat. You were standing right in front of your company. Baekhyun drove you here before he went to the building right across from you to meet with his dad.

After you shut the door, you leaned down against the window looking at your boyfriend in his black suit. Black suited him so well. Hold up! Everything looked good on him.

“See you oppa.” You puckered your lips sending him an air kiss. Even that tiny act of yours made him beam at you so affectionately.

As you entered the building, you pressed on the green button of the elevator. While you awaited you felt a silhouette standing behind you like a shadow. However when you turned to check the coast was clear. No one was even a meter near you. The sound coming out of the elevator brought you out of your trance.

The whole way to your office, you could feel eyes on you, watching your every move. As you pushed open the door you turned looking back once more noticing a man standing at the end of the hall. He was leaning on the wall next to the elevator, eyes directed at you. His face unveiling the gloominess in his behavior. His attire frightened you as it was all black. He looked suspicious. The second you blinked, he was gone. Disappeared from your eyesight. How is that even possible?

Closing the door of the office, you stepped towards your desk still wondering what just occurred.

“Stop please.”

You turned your head to the side hearing the pleading voice of a woman? Your eyes went back and forth from the front to the back of the room, trying to uncover what was going on.

“NO! Leave me alone…”

“STOP!!!”

Were you going mad? What was that? The aching voice of that lady was too real to be a dream. Was it a daydream?

You sat down on your chair, trying to calm your shaking body. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes relaxing your mind.

“NOOOOOO.”

You jumped out of the seat, your eyes flew open hearing the piercing scream ringing through your ears. You pressed your hands onto your head feeling the sudden pain rushing through it. The torment making you squeal in misery as your body collapsed onto the floor, everything around you turning to black…only the loud beeping of a dead body maintained between these four walls for you to hear.

…

“We got you now.”

____________________________ Chapter 8 Soon

_______________

Hope you enjoyed this chapter^^ hmm what happened at the end?! share your thoughts, would love to hear from you, I even created a Curious Cat account, if you’d like to chat or ask me anything there :) >> you can find it on the top screen of my profile ps: in the masterlist there’s a link to the >> official “Just For You” Trailer << check it out if you like ^^

#baekhyun fanfiction #exo fanfic #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #baekhyun scenario #exo scenarios #exo fanfiction #EXO baekhyun #exo #exo vampire #baekhyun fanfic smut #kpop scenarios #baekhyun fic #baekhyun romance #exo imagine #baekhyun imagines

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vietthaimeco · 5 years

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2020 Toyota Supra First Drive: Automotive Husbandry

There was a time when Mama and Papa Toyota gave birth to strong, athletic sports cars, starting with the suave 2000GT, sent to boarding school in Coventry and raced by Carroll Shelby. Through the years the family grew to include lithe Celicas, stalwart Supras, even a scrappy rear-drive Corolla GT-S or two. Then something happened, and Mama Toyota found herself unable to conceive sports cars. An impatient Papa Toyota summoned his Fuji concubine, Subaru-san, who gave birth to identical twins—one of which he graciously allowed her to keep. Mama Toyota was furious and forbade Papa Toyota from ever showering his son, 86, with any affection or horsepower. To woo back his betrothed, who desperately wished to birth another great sports car, Papa Toyota hatched a plan to artificially inseminate an auspicious European egg for Mama Toyota to gestate. She’s just given birth, and now the world must determine how this half-breed stacks up against its all-Toyota siblings.

We created this origin-story myth for the joint development of the A90-generation Supra out of frustration when it proved impossible to pin down exactly what roles Toyota and BMW played in the initial design of this new car. The inline-six turbo is obviously all BMW’s—it served as the inspiration for this hook-up in the first place. (“Thy Supras Shall Have I-6 Engines” was chiseled as the forgotten 11th commandment.) Most invisible parts are shared and apparently developed by BMW, if the roundel stickers, engravings, and casting marks are to be believed. The bodywork and the tuning of every tunable element on the Supra was handled by Toyota. We’re told the joint-venture team aimed squarely at Porsche’s 718 range, with BMW targeting the Boxster; Toyota the Cayman.

As for the B58B30M1 engine, although its output roughly equates to that of the European-market BMW Z4 sibling, it does not in fact employ a particle filter in U.S. applications. This begs the question, why not uncork the extra horsepower BMW gets from its filterless U.S. application (tagged B58B30M0)? Chief engineer Tetsuya Tada answers by claiming that balancing the car’s engine and chassis at the Nürburgring led to the 335 hp/365 lb-ft rating. But we find it hard to believe that in this fanboy, numbers-obsessed market segment his team chose to remove 47 horsepower instead of fortifying the chassis to cope with 382 hp. Let’s hope that instead the strategy is to start out conservative and bring a steady stream of higher-output special editions in the years to come.

But let’s return to the essential question at hand: Is this bicontinental cross-breed a “real” Supra?

The striking design may not appeal to everyone, but at least it doesn’t look at all like any BMW and several design cues evince Toyota sports-car DNA: the hatch bustle shape and elements of the headlamp design hark to the previous (A80) Supra, and the side-window shape is pure 2000GT. The proportions are certainly fresh. It’s shorter in length and wider than any of its predecessors, with the cabin set well back behind the requisite long hood. It’s also impressive that the team managed to generate the aero forces required to guarantee stability at the car’s 155-mph-limited top speed with underbody features and the duckbill shape of the hatch surface, leaving the bodywork refreshingly devoid of external wings, spoilers, skirts, and splitters.

Inside, the 2020 Supra’s overall dash, door panel, and seat designs are unlike the Z4’s, but there’s no mistaking all the BMW switchgear—especially the entire iDrive system, complete with all BMW fonts (changing them would have reduced Tada’s budget for making the car lighter and quicker). Whatever you think of the appearance, the functionality of this interior is hard to fault. All controls are intuitive and within easy reach (Consumer Reports just rated iDrive second to Tesla among automotive user interfaces). The 14-way power seats are quite comfortable and supportive, with side wings that can adjust to hug you tight on a track, then relax for the drive home. And the whole driver’s side of the center console area is padded for taller drivers to brace their right knee against. Nice.

I drew the assignment to test out the new Supra in part because I’m old enough (just) to have been around for the 1993 A80 Supra’s launch. and I drove the 2000GT for MotorTrend Classic in 2005. Let me state right here that the 2020 Supra comes off as less exotic than either of those two. That’s OK. Evolving the A80 Supra Turbo, accounting for inflation, would have produced a low-volume 500-ish-hp car priced in the $75,000–$85,000 range, and the 2000GT’s successor was arguably the Lexus LFA.

That’s not to say that the new Supra doesn’t feel special. All new two-seat coupes are rare and wonderful these days, and this one certainly outperforms all its predecessors. Our database confirms that if the factory-estimated 0–60 time of 4.1 seconds holds up, this new Supra will outperform all previous production Toyotas (a supercharged 2008 Tundra TRD and a 1997 Supra Turbo rank as the quickest we’ve tested at 4.4 and 5.1 seconds to 60 mph, respectively).

There’s a launch-control feature to aid in achieving that number, and the standard ZF 8HP eight-speed automatic fires off lightning-quick shifts along the way. Engage Sport mode, and the faultless shift programming preselects the right gear for every corner. This mode also opens an exhaust flap, alters the audio-system engine-note enhancer, and orders up a delightful snap-crackle-pop on overrun courtesy of gloriously wasteful fuel injection during the exhaust stroke (fun fact: This is said to be the only Toyota designed with no fuel-economy target).

Supras are not drag-strip cars. They also need to be able to handle the corners, and toward that end the joint team built a strong foundation—the Supra’s torsional rigidity reportedly exceeds that of the Lexus LFA (not to mention the open Z4). The front strut suspension emulates the ‘super strut’ design Toyota launched on its AE92 Corolla in the late-1980s, featuring two separate ball-jointed lower links for reduced camber change and improved steering feel. To assist with chassis tuning, Mr. Tada once again engaged the services of Dutch Nürburgring veteran racer Herwig Daenens, who assisted with the Toyota 86 (née Scion FR-S).

Their goal was to tune for neutral handling with no surprises. “With a snappy car, the customer will experience it once and never drive it hard again,” Daenens explains as he laps Summit Point Motorsports Park outside Washington, D.C. His first hot lap strings together all the tight corners with laser precision and minimal steering heroics. He then gives me a Formula Drift lap or two, with no giant hand-brakes or diff-locks, rolling on the stock Michelin Pilot Super Sport tires inflated to placard specs (38 psi all around, cold). Speaking of differential locks, the Supra’s is infinitely variable and tuned to reduce corner-entry understeer and to maximize corner-exit traction.

When it’s my turn to duck my helmet under the low window opening and buckle in, I am struck by the intimacy of the car and cockpit. It feels as though I’m positioned near the centers of gravity and rotation, making it feel like this little world indeed revolves around me. One nit to pick—the large driver’s side-view mirror obscures the view of an upcoming apex worse than some, and the tallest drivers may be chagrinned to find the seatback tilting forward toward the rear of the seat track’s travel.

We’re instructed not to switch stability control completely off, to trail-brake into the turns, and to roll judiciously onto the throttle. Indeed, all those driving-school techniques provoke textbook responses in the Supra sans drama or surprises. The steering is extremely precise and nicely weighted, though it lacks the intimate communication of the Cayman Toyota is gunning for. Stability intervention is pleasantly surreptitious. And the super-strong Brembo brakes survive lap after lap after lap without fade, even as we all learn to press deeper into each of the closely spaced corners. Then during a later afternoon session, when we’ve probably used up 280 of the tires’ 300 tread-life rating, I even manage to string together a couple of very nice, controllable corner-to-corner drifts. I emerge, sweaty but smiling.

Once the red mist subsides and we take to the country lanes surrounding Summit Point, the car’s Sunday-drive demeanor proves equally delightful. The 12-speaker 500-watt JBL system cranks out the jams, the ride quality in Sport mode is sufficiently compliant to encourage leaving the car in this ‘fun-exhaust’ mode, and when zipping through a series of S-bends with your phone on the Qi wireless charger, a cover and sufficient fencing keep it from flying into the passenger footwell.

So is this miracle of automotive husbandry worthy of the Supra name? Heck, yeah. It reinvents the concept in a guise that make sense for today’s world, and it’s offered at a price ($50,920 to start, $57,375 fully loaded) that’s a relative bargain when measured against both its predecessor and its Porsche competitor ($58,150, $70,640 similarly equipped to the Launch Edition model). If it’s not precisely what you had in mind, the aftermarket is gearing up to help you fix that.

Want more Supra? Check these out:

8 Things We Learned About the 2020 Toyota Supra While It Was on a Lift

2020 Toyota Supra: The Aftermarket’s Take

2020 Toyota Supra: Here’s Something You Probably Didn’t Know About its Logo

Supra Returns! The Inside Story on the 2020 Toyota Supra’s Comeback

2020 Toyota Supra Design: From FT-1 Concept to Production

Toyota Supra History: Looking Back at Toyota’s Sports Car

Why Toyota’s Supra-Z4 Partnership With BMW Makes Sense

2020 Toyota Supra BASE PRICE $50,920 VEHICLE LAYOUT Front-engine, RWD, 2-pass, 2-door hatchback ENGINE 3.0L/335-hp/365-lb-ft turbocharged DOHC 24-valve I-6 TRANSMISSION 8-speed automatic CURB WEIGHT 3,400 lb (mfr) WHEELBASE 97.2 in LENGTH X WIDTH X HEIGHT 172.5 x 73.0 x 50.9 in 0-60 MPH 4.1 sec (mfr est) EPA CITY/HWY/COMB FUEL ECON 24/31/26 mpg ENERGY CONSUMPTION, CITY/HWY 140/109 kW-hrs/100 miles CO2 EMISSIONS, COMB 0.79 lb/mile ON SALE IN U.S. July 2019

The post 2020 Toyota Supra First Drive: Automotive Husbandry appeared first on Motortrend.

source https://www.motortrend.com/cars/toyota/supra/2020/2020-toyota-supra-first-drive-review/

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