š³š šš¢šš~ššš š»ššš š±šš¢š
Summary: You never noticed him till he noticed you, never taking his eyes off you
Working at the small diner inside the boardwalk, you never had much time to remember faces, but his, that was different
Warnings: none? Slightly angsty? Slight stalking(sort of) implied fem!reader, readers work fit is described as a blouse and knee length skirt thatās allšš½
Authors note: IVE BEEN WAAAANNTING to write a Dwayne fic for a HOT minute, this is my first write for someone outside of the HP fandom and Iām kinda excited ngl, this gif is literally my pfp too like UUGHHHšš½
The boardwalk was loud, chaotic, smelling of sweets, fried food, and sweat. Sometimes the saltiness of the ocean breezed through, no matter what day or time it was always filled with screams of laughter and arrogant teenagers.
You never came to the boardwalk on your days off, whatās the need? Youāre already there four days out of the week, why spend it at your job? Tonight though, your friends pleaded with you to join them for the free concert, strong willed until finally you gave in, you never stayed or really watched the free bands anyways, most of the time it being a day you didnāt work.
The atmosphere of tonight felt exciting, maybe something in the wind, or the fact youāre actually doing something on your day off, that being the main argument your friends gave.
They had rushed you at your tiny house, crowded into your bedroom, taking a record and playing whilst talking, getting ready for the night.
Before even entering the boardwalk you could already hear the squeals of children and adults wafting out, tonight being particularly busy, just like any other nights when the music played, the beat of music vibrating from the floor, in a way giving adrenaline to your friends, walking faster as they weave through people to the stage.
Tonight was like every night for Dwayne. Him and the rest of the crew lurking at the boardwalk, covering a railing close to their bikes but in view of the stage, you hadnāt noticed it but making your way to the stage, you had walked right past the boys, Dwayneās eyes finding you in an instant, soon as he did, he didnāt want to take them off you, it was like you walked by in slow motion, you captivated him, your beauty shining with the fluorescent neon lights.
The way you moved, how your hair bounced with you, the slyness of your smile, you left a scent behind that Dwayne would never forget, almost immediately becoming his favorite.
Once you made your way past, he moved from the railing, keeping a good distance but just enough to see you. David hadnāt questioned him, turning to the rest of the boys, a smirk resting on the corners of his mouth, motioning to follow Dwayne. Paul and Marko bounding with excitement, Dwayne never showed much interest, in anything.
A decently sized crowd had already formed, most likely hours before you even left. Impatiently your friends weaved their way close enough to the makeshift stage, Dwayne and the boys stopping just a short distance in from where the crowd ended, he had a good view of you, tentatively watching, making sure no one was disturbing you.
You had made it in the middle of the bands set, blissfully watching and unaware. A new band making their way, quickly playing their first song, it wasnāt until the fourth or fifth song, you finally felt it.
The feeling of someoneās gaze peering into the back of you, first you looked at the people nearest to you, but their eyes fixated at the people above, then you looked a little farther, nothing. As if a kind of instinct in you, turning your body slightly to see almost at the top, a man. Long dark, and well kept hair, heavy leather jacket with leopard print on one sleeve, wearing a chunky necklace.
That piercing stare, felt like he was looking in you, reading you in a way. He had you captivated, the stoic-hardness of his face, the way he watched you almost flattering with a sense of eeriness behind it. You watched each other for a moment, before you slowly turned back around to your friends, unnoticed.
The night carried and the music played. Staying for two more bands before collectively deciding to go back to the boardwalk, indulging in the amusement before you.
Yet the feeling of eyes watching you never left. Not while walking through the fun house, your friends giggling as you navigate through the mirror maze, for a few seconds you swear he was there with you, the brooding, mysterious man. Catching him in a mirror, you see him, but dare you say heāsā¦lucid. Not quite see-through but not opaque. He wasnāt near but nor was he far. Not giving in, you tell yourself is the fun house, itās meant to play tricks.
The feeling still didnāt leave, not even in the haunted house. Your friends gripping to each other, as if the decor was real, making it halfway you canāt deny the feeling of someone behind you, trying to convince yourself itās the house, but curiosity taking over you, slowly turning to see, him. Just down the hallway, if you hadnāt seen him before you wouldāve thought he was apart of the attraction, eyes locked to each other, even in the dimly lit hallway, you could make out his eyes, the scream from two of your friends bringing you back, not before taking a quick glance.
Heās gone you thought, deciding to leave it be.
As your group makes their way out, there you see him again, just across from the crowd, he was watching, the group heās with barely paying any mind, watching the other people go by.
āWho is he?ā Rang out one of your friends, another giving a half shrug, their gazes turning to you ādo you know him?ā they ask, giving a fake smile, not wanting to disrupt the mood āno idea, probably a regularā you say.
āHis stare is creepyā said another friend, yet you couldnāt agree, you somehow couldnāt find it creepy, uneasy? Most likely, but beneath it, is something more.
Moving to the carousel, the conversation drifting back to normal adult occurrences. Grocery shopping, laundry, what nail polish to use next, but by now you couldnāt get him out of your mind, the anatomy of his face, the way his eyes made your entire body warm, how you didnāt even know his name but he was already doing things to you.
You feel a jolt to your shoulder, coming back from your daydream to see how far youāve moved in line.
āY/N? Are you okay? Youāve been quietā stated your friend, again you give a small, fake smile āyes, sorry just..thinking about work in a couple daysā your quickness covering it up.
āWeāre here to have fun, not think about workā your friend says, moving through the ride, finding which animal to sit on, coincidentally you chose the motorcycle.
Your laughter along with your friends fill the air, though the ride just went in circles, you enjoyed the moment and for a minute your mind slipped.
That is until you hear heavy footsteps behind you, who would be walking on a carousel? You think to yourself, turning around, you make eye contact with a tall, platinum haired man, his stare cold. Following behind is him, the dark haired mystery man, his eyes upon you before you could reciprocate, his crew approaching faster than you thought, but time seemed to have slowed.
He was looking you all over, reading you, studying you. An ever so sly smile appearing as he catches the motorcycle beneath you. You could feel your heart thump fast and loud the closer he came. He smelled of smoked hide and dew, a scent youāll never forget.
You could only think of one thing as he approached.
Your sight never breaking with each other. Soon he was in front of you, impossibly close but still not close enough, he had you in his gaze. His friends ogling at yours, them being rather uninterested.
As soon as he was in front of you, he was already passing you, still steadily holding eye contact for a few steps then turning forward again āwhat was that all about-ā your friend starts but before anyone could answer, thereās a loud commotion and the ride came to a halt.
Looking back in front of you, you see the security guard had the tall platinum man by his neck, another janky looking man had Dwayne by his collar, shoving him off quickly.
Before you could even realized, you had slipped off your seat, standing still, making no moves, your hand holding onto the pole, you wanted to intervene, watching as the security guard kicked them off the boardwalk, followed by the couple.
āMaybe we should go homeā wearily your friend stated. Their altercation being the end to your night.ļæ¼
š¦ š¦ š¦ š¦ š¦ š¦ š¦ š¦
Since that fateful night, you hadnāt been able to rid that dark, yet enticing man. He had a hold on you, no words were exchanged, you hadnāt even known his name and he was already doing things to you.
You hoped getting ready for work would distract you, tucking your work blouse into your skirt. You worked the night shifts at the diner, one of the few places that stayed open late on the boardwalk.
Your mind would wander back to his eyes, how beautifully dark brown they are. Wondering if youād see him, making you anxious and hopeful at the same time.
Your shift was just like any other. You walked to work, living not far away. Youād get there just before the sun would set, punching your card in then immediately seating and serving customers.
Within two hours the sun had been gone and night settled in. Entering into rush hour as more people filled the diner, wiping down a table and clearing the cups, you seat a family of four in a corner booth. Slipping your note pad out, pen at the ready ācan I get you started with drinks?ā Your sweet, customer service voice, naturally coming to you after working for so long.
Finally, the darker it got the closer it came to the end of your shift. Not knowing how many milkshakes and burgers you served or people you seated.
Steadily holding your server tray as you bring a group their drinks, carefully grabbing one by one, setting them down, scribbling on your notebook their food orders, you feel something again, someone watching.
Looking over your shoulder, out the window on the railing, itās him. The diner being covered in windows left it easy to see inside but even then, from miles away, he could still spot you.
The light reflecting off him and casting perfect shadows, he looked so good you couldnāt deny, it made your face hot but your body tremble slightly, he had that demeanor to him.
You tried to ignore it, but a few minutes later, there they are. Him and his pose. Standing, waiting to be helped. And it was you who had to seat them. You tried to collect yourself, wiping your hands against your apron, taking a deep breath and you approach the front, grabbing four menus āanybody joining you?ā You ask, the platinum-leather clad man from the other night answering ājust usā motioning for them to follow you āright this way thenā
He never took his eyes off you, not since spotting you outside and not even when they entered, watching you walk around the diner and over to them, your sweet voice filling his head. You could feel his stare in your back.
Sitting them by the exit that splits the diner, they fill into the booth. David and Marko taking the inside while Paul was next to Marko, and Dwayne next to David, still piercing you with his gaze. Setting the menus down you ask āany drinks?ā Followed by your customer smile ājust sodaā David responded, nodding you make your way behind the bar, filling the cups with ice, but your heart was pounding so loud you could barely hear yourself scoop the ice, filling the soda was a blur and your already back in front of them.
You tried to hide your nervousness, but as you set the drinks down, the ice sloshing around, giving you away, they tentatively watched as you set them down, feeling your anxiousness pulse from your body. Starting with Marko then ending with Dwayne, holding the eye contact for a few seconds before switching to the whole group, tray under your arm, notepad out āwould you like any food?ā Asking softly, again David being the first to answer āIāll be alrightā followed by Marko piping āI want a burgerā giving a sultry smile, quickly jotting down you ask āwould you like fries with that?ā To a quick response āabsolutely, darlingā nothing near the gawk you get from young to old men most days, but to Dwayne, he gave Marko a chilling side eye, Marko trying to refrain his giggle.
Paul giving his order before you could even ask āIāll have a burger too, actuallyā his smile almost replicating Markoās āfries with that as well?ā You ask again, with Paul giving a quick āof courseā
Now shifting your gaze to Dwayne, his stare felt more intense, the brownness of his eyes almost black. He just stared, taking all of you in again, not uttering a single word, feeling like minutes though itās only been seconds āheāll be alright tooā David answers, nodding you mumbling a quick āperfectā you rip the ticket off and make your way behind the bar once again, handing the ticket to the kitchen through the window.
Before you could even turn around, you could hear the ding ding of the bell at the front, impatiently and repeatedly. A short sigh and hustle over you see the dreaded group, surf nazis, as a few liked to call them by, unfortunately tonight theyāre paying customers, maybe. Luckily for you they never came in often, but when they did, it was never an easy night.
Hurriedly walking over and bringing them to a booth. The diner had been packed, leaving the only booth open three tables down from the boys, separated by the exit door, they could be separated by a whole continent and it would still be too close.
You could feel the tension in the diner grow thick, suddenly feeling how hot the air had been. The two groups made eye contact as they were seated, almost like a warning to each other, donāt get out of line and we wonāt do anything.
Praying to yourself all you had to do was take their order and hopefully leave. āWhat can I get started?ā You begin, instantly who you could assume as the āleaderā chimes in āget us all milkshakes would you, babe? And uh..put something little extra in mine could youā almost demanding, you didnāt want to know what he meant by that, with his sickly grin.
Giving a half smile and nodding quick, writing down their flavors āany whip cream on top?ā You didnāt want to be there but avoiding any conflict āabsolutelyā the guy began before leaning closer āmaybe you could put whip cream on my topā again, you didnāt want to know what he meant with his gross advances, only going tight lipped then walking away.
The one night you wish they hadnāt also put you to milkshakes, having to walk past Dwayne and them to the station, yet this time his eyes werenāt on you, it was on the other group, his gaze looked like it could kill, the diner was loud but he heard everything, and his grip could break the table.
You made a pit stop at the kitchen window, Marko and Paulās food sitting on top, gently sliding them off then away āhere we are, sorry about the waitā you said, David plucking a fry from Markoās plate, the two not wasting a second with their food.
Having not even stepped a foot away, Dwayneās voice, tough yet soft, directed to you āif theyāre messing with you, tell meā his eyes demanding but voice protective.
Heat rushed to your cheeks, this was your first time hearing his voice, you almost wished he said more. Stunned for a second, you reply āoh, thank you, itāll be alright, Iāll be getting off soonā giving him a quick smile then going to the milkshake station.
How he wished you smiled at him again
Never in a shift do you think youāve made milkshakes that fast before, even holding the tray with two hands because godforbid you dropped any.
They eyed you almost hungrily as you slid the tray onto the table āanything else?ā Asking quickly, thinking youāre off the hook, but the leader having other plans, replying āyeah actuallyā audacity dripping in his tone, swiftly he grabbed your wrist. Not going unnoticed by Dwayne.
āMaybe, you could respond when someone gives you a complimentā he said, referring to earlier āIām sorry sir, itās a very busy night-ā he interrupts you āhow about not taking so long for damn milkshakesā his voice raised laced with unnecessary anger, trying to slip your wrist away, people began to turn and stare.
āIām sorry sirā you say again ātheir food was ready I had too-ā he interrupts again, this time letting go of you in favor for grabbing his shake, slipping out the booth to face you, feeling his hot, putrid breath on your face, slightly turning away from him āthis isnāt even the milkshake I orderedā now you know heās trying to cause problems, you know that is specifically the one he did order āmy apologies, I can remake-ā but of course, he doesnāt let you finish, as heās poured half of the cold, sticky treat on your blouse.
Embarrassment ran throughout your entire body, youāve had your fair share of rude customers, but not like this.
Your blouse wasnāt see through, that is unless liquid touches it. Most of the treat slipping and falling off, leaving a wet trail down your blouse. The surf nazi chuckling, his gaze steady on your chest āyou can make it up by showing me whatās under that skirtā too much confidence in his voice, his comment almost taking your breath away, in a bad kind of way.
Dwayne could have murdered him in front of everyone for what he did to you, alas he settled for less. As soon as it happened, he leapt from his seat, grabbing a napkin, gently handing it to you before harshly grabbing the man by his shirt, face mere inches from his āyou donāt touch herā he began in a low, threatening grow āleave her aloneā he wasnāt asking, he demanded.
The surf nazi taking it as a challenge because nothing can be de-escalated with them āoh yeah?ā He raised his eye brow to Dwayne, like it was scary. Holding out the barely empty glass, letting go of it, expecting to meet with a crash but Dwayneās reflex was faster than the man would ever think.
Gripping his shirt harder, pulling him closer. By now the rest of the boys had followed suit, standing behind Dwayne while almost shielding you.
āGet outā he growled once more. The man glanced over to the rest of the boys, finally backing down, barely shoving Dwayne off before muttering a āletās goā giving them an ugly look as they each passed by to leave.
Of course by now, almost the whole diner was looking at you. Never feeling so small before, holding the napkins to your chest, wanting to just run out and go home. Setting down the glass, Dwayne turned to you, gaze steady and fixated on you, your mind fried and upset.
Without saying anything, he took his jacket off while leading you outside. Careful to place his heavy jacket on you, the weight of it on your shoulders, you stared off a few feet in front of you, processing. Dwayne by your side, his presence almost comforting.
āLet me take you homeā he says, breaking the silence, your eyes cut to his, how sincere they look at you. Your quiet for a few seconds āitās okay, I-ā he doesnāt let you finish āIām taking you homeā again not asking, stating. You hold his jacket tighter to you, his smell surrounding you, lightly nodding you give a quiet āokayā
He leads you to his bike, itās quiet but loud, nothing said except the screams of people and the sounds of the arcade. He gets on first, gesturing to you behind him, doing exactly that.
You donāt even get to tell him where to go before the roar of his bike echoes, grabbing your arms to put around him, flustered once again but in a good way. Still you donāt know his name and now youāre touching his body. His deliciously sculpted body.
The bike jolts then off you are. Riding fast, its mere seconds before the front of the boardwalk disappears, you grip him tighter. Too soon enough, youāre at the front of your house.
āHere we areā Dwayne states, slowly you make your way off his bike. Standing in front of him, you both share a moment, the moonlight hitting him just perfectly āI donāt even know your nameā you say, to which you receive a low chuckle.
āItās Dwayneā he tells you. Dwayne, you try to memorize āand yours?ā He asks, thatās right, you almost forgot you had a name āY/Nā you say softly, slipping off his jacket, giving it back to him, watching how his muscles and shoulders contort. Again you stare at each other, content, you could almost see a certain gentleness in his eyes.
You canāt help but think again
Shit, heās so pretty, another chuckle, almost as if he heard you.
āI never told you where I liveā you suddenly bring up. A sly smile upon his lips. But he says nothing, watching as you turn, walking the short path to your door. Your hand rests on the handle as you turn back to look at him once more, the silence being filled by his motor, he doesnāt move, waiting for you make it inside.
The soft click of your door then sigh of relief, resting your back against the hardwood. Slowly you hear his engine get quieter and quieter.
Only one thought on your mind.
