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#all caps and full stops were needed
wikitpowers · 2 months
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GIVE. ME. TY. TALKING. ABOUT. THE. FIRST. TIME. HE. SAW. KIT. AND. WHAT. HE. THOUGHT. IN. THAT. MOMENT. PLEASE. AND. THANK. YOU.
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majorluz · 3 months
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found my old deviantart account
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the-bibrarian · 1 year
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I see a lot of incomprehension online about our pension reform and the anger it generates in France, and what it often boils down to is "why are they so angry, 64 is plenty young to retire?"
I don't agree, but even if I did I would still oppose the reform. Here are some of the reasons why:
We already need 43 full years of work and tax contributions to be able to retire. Which means college-educated people were never going to retire at 64 anyway, let alone 62. This reform is aimed at people who start working early, mostly in low-paying jobs.
There's very little provision made in this law for hard/dangerous/manual labour.
There's no provision made for women who stop working to raise their children (51% of women already retire without a "complete career," which means they only retire on a partial pension, vs. 25% of men).
At 64, 1/3 of the poorest workers will already be dead. In France, between the richest and the poorest men, there's a 13 years gap in life expectancy.
Beyond life expectancy, at that age a lot of people (especially poorer, non-college educated) have too many health-related issues to be able to work. Not only is it cruel to ask them to work longer, if they can't work at all that's two more years to hold on with no pension
Unemployment in France is still fairly high (7%). Young people already have a hard time finding work, and this is going to make things even harder for them
Macron cut taxes on the rich and lost the country around 16 Billions € in tax revenue. Our estimated pension deficit should peak at 12 Billions worst case scenario.
While I'm on wealth redistribution (no, not soviet style, but I think there should be a cap on wealth concentration. Nobody needs to be a billionaire.): some of the massive profits of last year should go to workers and to the state to be redistributed, including to fund pensions. The state subsidized companies and corporations during the pandemic, Macron even said "no matter the cost" and spent 206 Billions € on businesses. Now he's going after the poorest workers in the country for an hypothetical 12 Billions??
Implicit in all of this is the question of systemic racism. French workers from immigrant families are already more likely to have started their careers early, to have low-paying jobs, are less likely to be college-educated, more at risk for disabilities and chronic illnesses, etc., so this is going to disproportionately affect them
This is not even touching on the fact that he didn't let lawmakers vote on it, meaning he knew he wouldn't get a majority of votes in parliament, or that 70% of the population is against this law. Pushing it through anyway is blatant authoritarianism.
TL;DR: This is only tangentially about retirement age. The reform will make life harder for people with low incomes, or with no higher education, for manual workers, for women—mothers especially, for POC, for people with disabilities or chronic conditions, etc. This is about solidarity.
Hope (sincerely) this helps.
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i did send the same thing to another writer i enjoy bc i love different takes on things, but my little dumpster brain has had one thought in the last 24 hours - imagine confiding in your captain that you'd like to have a baby bc biological clock or whatever, and being in the field really puts a damper on your sex life, so that makes it difficult. but the 141 will do anything for one of their own, so if that means they're running trains and taking turns on you DAILY until it takes (and probably even after 👀), then so be it.
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lol... you lit a fuckin' fire with this ask, my friend. hot!!
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"The Window" (141/Reader)
You awoke to the soft tinkling noise of his belt and zipper, rattling at the edge of your bed. Your captain, John Price, was answering his call of duty, and within moments, you knew he would slip his fat, flaccid cock between your legs and allow your warmth to make him harden within you. He preferred it this way. First, he would rub you with it, heavy and smooth, smearing your wetness all over his skin. Then, with a singular talent, he would somehow stuff his soft, lolling head into your hole, feeding himself into you gently, letting your body take him in on its own as your pussy pulsed for him, and he would rub your clit absent-mindedly, comforting himself with your swollen lips, sighing raggedly as you covered him up. Once he was hard - and fuck, he was impossibly hard - he would fuck you through your blinding pleasure, his girth giving you burst after burst of hot, searing bliss.  
He wasn’t your boyfriend - none of them were - but the members of your task force, the 141, had all agreed to be the father of your child. It had started when Captain Price first saw your appointment on the team calendar. You’d meant to post it privately, but you had failed to do so. He came to you right away, his face full of worry,
“Wha’s goin’ on, Spar? Goin’ to the main base hospital… Wha’s all this about?”
So, you’d told him, a little bashfully, that you were trying to get pregnant. You’d be turning 28 this fall, and you wanted to be a mom, sooner rather than later. Every few weeks, you were shipped off to some too-cold or too-hot locale, getting shot at and flash-banged. There wasn’t really time to find a date, much less convince them that you would make a good mother. The last time you tried to use Tinder, one guy had called you ‘Rambo’ and blocked you, so it wasn’t going well. 
“I’ll go with you, little bird. Sounds important.”
“You don’t need to do that, Captain. I’m sure I can take out a loan for it…” You thought out loud, remembering the pamphlet and all of its cost breakdowns for IVF treatments.
“A loan? Last time I checked, love, it was free,” he chuckled. 
“Free when you have someone who’d be willing to give it to you, sir,” you challenged him with your confidence, trying not to be ashamed, even of your ‘Rambo’ nickname. 
“Sparrow,” he raised his voice and nearly shouted your callsign incredulously in the small mess hall where he’d found you, “There’s no bloody way you don’t have someone willing.” 
“Wha’s goin’ on, Cap?” Gaz poked his head in behind the door. 
“Nothing,” you tried to stop the literal landslide of embarrassment that was happening to you.
“She wants to have a baby,” Price told him, smiling a bit as your cheeks turned pink.
“A baby?” Gaz commented with no small amount of surprise.
“Who wants a baby?” Simon yelled out from the hallway before opening the door wider and scooting around Gaz to join into the conversation. 
“A bairn!?” Soap barged in, slamming the door all the way open and forcing Gaz to tumble into the kitchen. 
So, the whole team knew in a matter of moments, but Price kept his word. He drove you to the hospital for your appointment and asked more questions to the doctor than you did. Unfortunately, he heard all of the strictest rules and took them to heart. No cigarettes, no caffeine, plenty of rest and… plenty of exposure to male ejaculate. 
There had been a meeting, of which you were not a part, between Price and the other men in your task force, and they had come to a conclusion: they would put a baby in you. It was their singular mission. A bit of back and forth had occurred when you found out their plan.
“Is there… we dinnae want to pressure you, lass, but,” Soap looked around at Ghost, Gaz, and Price before settling back on you, “Are there any of us you wouldnae like to be the father? We willnae take offense.”
“No! I’d be happy to have any of you… I mean… But, I don’t want you to feel like you need to do this if you don’t want to,” you could feel the heat of your shame rising in your cheeks, and you knew you were as red as a lobster. You heard a bit of laughter at your comment and feared the worst. But then, Gaz explained,
“I’m afraid all of us very much want to, Sparrow.”
He had even palmed his growing cock for emphasis. 
But, it had to be fair, you decided. There should be a schedule; no favorites. And for the first month, there was. Soap was your Monday, Ghost was Tuesday, Gaz was Thursday, and Price was Friday. But then Price had a meeting and so Soap was Friday, and Price was Saturday. That meant Ghost was Monday. You were in training on Tuesday, so Gaz was Wednesday, but Soap couldn’t do Thursday or Friday because he had to go in for his annual review. So, he joined Gaz on Wednesday, stepping in right after him as if you were a pretty little mailbox and the boys had come to drop off their packages. 
When the weekly schedule fell apart, you hung a big calendar in your quarters, and they’d pencil themselves in. That was fine until you had been shipped out to Aqtabi. You’d tried to keep it up while you were in the field, remembering what day was which, but the truth was that sometimes you had no idea if it was morning or night. Was that the sun or a flare? 
And sometimes it didn’t matter. Something would happen on a mission, and Price would crawl beneath your scratchy woolen sheet, searching for the comfort of your arms, not saying a word, not even asking you if it was alright, but just taking you there in the cold night of the desert, filling you up and keeping his cock sheathed in you, safe and sound. 
And sometimes you needed them, too. Waiting on exfil, huddled together in the pouring rain beneath a sad tarp, you’d crawled into Gaz’s lap, looping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you in a cradle, using his big chest as your pillow. You’d dozed, exhausted, and he’d rubbed himself against you through your clothes, coaxing you to pull down your pants so he could empty himself into your womb, quick and filthy. You remembered how it felt when his come had soaked through your panties as you sat next to him in the helicopter, letting him hold your hand. 
You felt a little guilty that you weren’t exactly hoping for a child during those first few months. You were enjoying their affections, no matter how platonic they may have felt. 
It didn’t stay that way, though. Soap was the worst offender. When he fucked you, he wanted to spend most of his time eating you out, sucking on your clit with his mouth like a hungry dog, soaking himself in your scent and your flavor before finally mounting you, crawling over your body like the hound that he was, dipping his cock into you and beating your core like a drum. He’d stare into your eyes when he could manage it, and he’d slipped up one day and told you he loved you. That you were his girl, his wee bonnie lass, and that he’d raise the bairn with you, even if it was Black like Gaz, tall like Ghost, or had Price’s big nose. It’d be his and yours. He’d be the daddy you wanted him to be, he promised. 
Then, you’d had to deal with Gaz. He’d made dinner reservations at a restaurant near base while he had your legs held up to your chest, helping you wait the twenty suggested minutes for his “lads” to “soak in”. Told you he was just hungry, but he had also happened to buy you a nice dress, and he’d driven you in his sporty little Beamer, bright red and clean as a whistle. He’d fucked you after dinner, sneaking in a double feature, which was expressly against the rules. Told you he couldn’t help himself, and he said he’d been thinking about you all weekend, cock in hand. 
Ghost was like his namesake, haunting you all over the place. He found you in the locker room, and decided to fuck you standing up, sweaty from your sparring match. He’d washed you off in the shower, and he’d taken you in there, too, after coaxing you to make him hard again by sucking him off. Ghost would slink by you in the reference room, stalking you through the bookshelves, and dragging you to the storage closet to fuck you on all fours on the floor, maps and looseleaf pamphlets about Russian spy camps under your rosy red knees. He got vocal that night, cramped with his huge body in that tiny closet, telling you what a good girl you were for him, how you fit his fuckin’ cock so perfect, how he’d never want anyone else, how it felt so good to fill your body up with his load. 
Then, there was your captain. At first, you weren’t sure he was truly a willing participant. He seemed to avoid you unless he was on the schedule. He didn’t cut in line, and if you were on the couch or in the kitchen with one of the boys, he’d leave you be, smiling at you a bit before grabbing his tea and escaping back to his office. But, then you realized the truth: John Price wanted to put a baby inside of you more than anyone else, and he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure it happened. 
“Hey, little bird,” John’s finger pet the side of your cheek as you woke, feeling him pull down your pink silk panties so he could start to warm you up, “I’m your Sunday.”
“Mm,” you rubbed the sleep out of your eye and opened up your legs for him, giving him full access to your body on instinct at this point, “John, we gave up on the schedule. You can come whenever you want. Or, you can stop.”
“Can’t stop,” he kissed your mouth as he leaned over you, and you tasted peppermint and tobacco mixing together with something heady and lustful, “We’re in the window.”
Ah. The Window. All of the boys talked about The Window and when it was coming up next. They’d all downloaded trackers on their phones, watching you like birds of prey for when you ordered a box of tampons, checking with you to see when you were off the rag. And then, you’d be “in the window” of ovulation. Their best chance at succeeding at this mission. 
They would fuck you at any time of the month, and Soap and Price would even fuck you through your period, having read in some magazine that there was a small chance of success. But, being in The Window was like covering yourself in honey in the middle of a cave in spring and waking up all the bears inside it. Fertile ground, ripe for the taking. 
“Mm, fuck,” you keened. John had two fingers in you now, pressing on your soft spots and stretching your hole. You wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss, which he moaned into. 
“Feel good, Spar? You want to make me hard, pretty bird?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, looking up at him with desperate eyes, “Yeah, I do. Please, John…”
 He slipped himself in, half-hard already, and you felt the body of it slide into your core. It was soft, and you liked to squeeze it with your muscles, feeling him writhe inside of you when you did, reveling in his pleasure. He sat back on his heels to let you play with him fully, watching you grind your hips on him as he massaged your clit to its full, swollen height. He was in no rush, and he spoke to you casually. 
“Has Kyle been in this weekend?”
“No, it was Soap,” you tried to remember, “And then Ghost, and then Soap again.”
Price chuckled warmly,
“That boy wants a baby so badly.”
You smiled with him, agreeing, 
“He does. He interrupted Gaz on Thursday and asked him when he’d be done!” 
Price laughed with you then, his eyes gleaming and crinkling at the edges,
“Oh, Christ. He’d be a good one. They’d all be good.”
You watched his mood shift. There was something solemn about it, and you wanted to chase it away. You rubbed your hand along his furry belly, locking your ankles around his hips and shamelessly rocking your hips to fit more of him into you. You confessed, 
“You’d be good.”
His eyes found yours again and he stilled, wondering out loud,
“D’you think so, Sparrow?”
“I know so.”
“Can I tell you a secret, little bird?” He whispered, lowering himself into position and stuffing his hard length even deeper inside of you, making you worry just a bit if he could hurt you with that thing. 
You nodded, kissing his huge Adam’s apple in his throat and nuzzling through his beard. He told you the whole truth as he pounded himself into you without mercy, 
“Sometimes, I wish he would be mine. I wish…” He almost stopped, but he kept going, like a raft in the stream, too caught in the current to go back to the shore, “I wish you could be mine, and then I could rub lotion on your belly when you got big. And I could cook for you when you got tired, and I could read to you, even when he was still inside of you, and I know he could hear my voice. I wish, sometimes, that when it happens, that I’d be the first to know. That you’d tell me first, because you knew it was mine, because you’d want him to be mine.”
You were stunned, and you were coming, and the two were very separate events. As your pussy pulsed and tried to milk him of his come, making you dizzy and almost sick with pleasure, you were shocked by his admission. You grabbed his face and made him look you in your eyes,
“John…” You panted, coming down from your first high of many with Price, “I had no idea you felt that way.”
“I didn’t either,” he smiled, but the corners didn’t reach his eyes. 
When he fucked you this morning, you had no idea how good it could feel, but he showed you. He rutted into you, desperately, like some sort of beast, unable to stop himself. It was as if he would fuck himself bloody in you if he had to, and you wanted to take him as best you could. You felt him finally start to come, and he plugged you up with his thickness, shoving himself as deep as he would go, sealing you off and keeping you warm and elevated. 
He kept his cock in you, gasping for breath and petting the hair out of your face. He kissed you, cheeks and chin and neck, all the way down to your breasts where he suckled from your nipples, almost dreamlike in the way he was touching you, fully covered in you the entire time. 
“Sleep, birdie,” he nuzzled your neck and continued to lave his tongue over your breasts, “I’ll wake you when I’m hard again.”
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Part 2
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alrightieaphroditie · 18 days
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wipe my tears away | j.m.
*:·゚✧ series masterlist | previous part!
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pairing *:·゚ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·゚6.6k  warnings *:·゚18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones!  an *:·゚this is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format!  check the series masterlist for the series tags!
synopsis *:·゚ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps. 
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The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life. 
But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection. 
Because it was a different story, now. 
Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it. 
Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face. 
In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today. 
Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning. 
But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.
 And so, that’s what you did. 
Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely. 
You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling. 
Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread. 
The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway. 
“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.
It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up. 
Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body. 
The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows. 
“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.
This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response. 
When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils. 
And the occasional sniffle. 
You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about. 
“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body. 
Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he’d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go. 
“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously. 
“Joel…”
“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see. 
“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking. 
“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response. 
“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream. 
Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace. 
You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps. 
You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it. 
He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material. 
You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it. 
Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever. 
And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him. 
He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice. 
Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared. 
Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him. 
His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin. 
He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours. 
Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven. 
“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body. 
The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh. 
“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg. 
“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close. 
Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed. 
His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you. 
“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream. 
“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core. 
The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out. 
His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down. 
His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you. 
“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open. 
He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?” 
A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock. 
Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger. 
“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm. 
Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers. 
“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.” 
His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body. 
Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested. 
Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body. 
Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up. 
Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even. 
“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours. 
Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together. 
“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure. 
“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless. 
“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure. 
Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.” 
This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you. 
Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit. 
You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent. 
With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.  
“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours. 
Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse. 
“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed. 
“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh. 
A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house. 
Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly. 
Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit. 
“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm. 
“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body. 
Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach. 
Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself. 
It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?” 
A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men. 
He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open. 
He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up. 
“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up. 
After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom. 
There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence. 
“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours. 
“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.” 
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mrsparrasblog · 28 days
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You're losing me pt.1 POLY 141 x F, Reader
TW: cheating, hurt no comfort, heavy angst, dubious consent, there will be a happy end in the last part dont worry
pt.2
The most important thing about a POLY relationship was trust, and you knew you could trust them with all your heart. Kyle was so devoted to you that the mere thought of sleeping with another woman made him sick to his stomach. John was so full of loyalty towards you that he would never do anything to destroy your trust. Simon would rather kill himself than hurt you, the man who didn’t even dare to sleep with you for the first three months, afraid of hurting you should cheat on you? Never. And Johnny, oh your Johnny, was the sweetest of all of them. He took you on all these dates, introduced you to his family, and not a day went by without a compliment, nor a return from deployment without a bouquet of your favorite flowers.
So why do you still feel jealous sometimes? John reassured you over and over again that it was normal for you to feel jealous. He reassured you that nothing was happening while they were on deployment; they had each other for the fun stuff but definitely no other females; that spot was reserved for you, and only you.
Still, when you saw the new medic, you were so close to puking your guts out. She was beautiful, so stunningly beautiful and cool. A field medic is more in understanding with their branch than you with your job as a teacher. "Don’t need a medic, love," Simon reassured you once again, "we love that you're soft and not so rugged of war." Kyle immediately asked if he should stop talking with her outside of missions, and there you had your safety and reassurance.
Two months you spent without them; their last tour took a bit longer than expected. When John surprisingly texted you yesterday that they were back, you couldn’t contain your happiness. Unfortunately, you didn’t have time yesterday evening since you worked late, but you were eager to surprise them today on base, even though they thought you were only coming Wednesday. But hey, they’d be happy about the surprise. So you baked their favorite goods, put yourself in a cute outfit, and went on base.
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Johnny woke up with the worst headache of his life. He didn’t even remember drinking that much, only a few pints. Normally, he was more resistant. He felt a warm body around him and hair all over his face. He didn’t remember bringing you home yesterday, but yesterday was very blurry for him anyway. But he couldn’t complain; he missed you so much. When he nuzzled inside your neck, he smelled a different perfume than usual. It didn’t smell that great, but that's not something he’d say to you. Maybe��he’d buy you a bottle of your favorite perfume as a present. The hair felt slightly different too, and your figure, did you change really so much in two months? When he opened his eyes and saw her, he couldn’t believe this. This must have been a dream, a bad dream. He looked down and noticed her lack of clothes under the blanket. "Fuck," he cursed out as he jumped out of bed, waking up the medic.
"What’s wrong, Johnny?"
"Don’t call me that; only she and SI can."
"You didn’t complain yesterday when I moaned it," the medic said with a teasing smile, grinning like a kid on Christmas.
"Don’t tell me we…" he pleaded.
"Of course, we did, Sweetheart."
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he screwed up. How could he do this? Where were the others? Why didn’t they stop him? How would they react? God, they'd kill me. No, she won’t. She will look at me with this disappointing glance.
As if the situation wasn’t worse enough, the guys walked in, looking at her standing completely naked. Kyle turned immediately around, but John looked knowing exactly like Ghost.
"You have 5 seconds to explain yourself, Soap," John grunted out, his hoarse voice sounding even deeper than usual.
"Oh, Johnny and I just had a bit of fun, Cap. Don’t worry; we can still go if you want to," she smiled brightly, her hand running over Price's clothed abs.
He pushed her away. "The only thing you're going to do is shower and leave."
She didn’t move. "It’s an order, not a suggestion, soldier," so she went to the shower, leaving the four men alone.
Kyle was on his way outside. "Where are you going, Sergeant?" Ghost asked.
"Telling my girlfriend that that bastard cheated on her. You don’t deserve her, not even a bit."
"Your girlfriend?"
"You won’t tell her a thing."
"You don’t get to decide that, Ghost," Kyle almost spat out.
"Ah, really, didn’t remember a thing."
Kyle went to him, grabbed him, and pushed him into a wall. "You fucking idiot, you ruined everything just because you couldn’t control your fucking cock."
"Stop."
"Aren’t you happy about it, Garrick? Now you have her alone like you always wanted?" Ghost asked, challenging the man who hurt his Johnny. He thought there must be a logical explanation for this; Johnny loved you; he wouldn’t do that.
"I said, fucking stop," John screamed at everyone.
You heard a lot of screams around the base. When you finally went to the room of Johnny and Kyle, you saw everyone there around, fighting. "So that’s what you do when I'm away to keep you in check," you hummed, chuckling a bit.
They looked at you in horror. Instead of the usual running towards you from Kyle, the picking you up from John, or the thousand kisses from Johnny, they just stood there in shock.
"Everything alright, boys?" you asked, letting the cupcakes rest on the table you baked for them.
"Love, look—" Kyle started but got stopped by Simon.
And from that moment, it went downhill. You noticed a flashy pink bra, definitely not your size, so far from your size that you were confused. "Whose is this?" you picked it up, and no words came out of them.
"No…" you already thought about the worst, but you wanted to give them a chance. Maybe it was a damn coincidence, Johnny's sister visiting or anything like that. The doubt went away in a second when she walked out of the bathroom, completely naked. "Oh, you're still together."
"Who of you?" you begged that they didn’t say all.
"I was. I'm so sorry," John said, his face looked apologetic, while the others looked surprised at their captain.
"It’s over," you muttered, trying not to cry to save you at least a bit of dignity. You were so stupid to trust them like that.
"Love, no, please," Kyle begged while Johnny and John were just silent.
"With all of us?" Ghost asked, wounded.
"You all knew it, and no one told me that John slept with that slag."
"EY!"
"Shut up," Ghost barked at the medic.
"I swear to you, I wanted to tell you," Kyle pleaded.
"Well, you didn’t, did you?"
"No, love, wait."
"It’s over," you asked out of the door, shutting them down from following you. "Let me the fuck alone."
"Let her go," John said to his men and they listened.
Back in the comfort of your own home, you allowed yourself to cry, holding your dog Winston till you felt in an unpeaceful slumber.
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Prewar!Cooper Howard has a breeding kink because he loves being a dad. He and Barb married and started trying for kids later in life than most folks around them, so much of the sex they had, especially early on, was focused on getting Barb pregnant. If he'd had his way, they would have had a whole litter of children, but hey, sometimes life doesn't work out the way you want. Still, there's the fun of trying, and there was a lot of trying. After the divorce, he's shocked when he meets someone else, and even more shocked when he feels those same urges with you. He's been trained to try and knock one in basically every time, he jokes.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
He's also incredibly possessive, and it drives him wild to think about getting to see you all swollen and filled out with his child. Particularly with you being younger that him; the ugly part of his brain is barking at him to stake a more permanent claim on you every time a guy your age so much as looks your way. Personally, he thinks he's too old to have more kids, but between his secret urges, your forgetfulness when it comes to your pill, and your twin high sex drives, well...sometimes accidents happen.
He'd be over the moon, once he knew you were happy as well (he would also worry about the news potentially being hurtful to Barb, but that'd be an issue for tomorrow). Showing you off in public, knowing that other people see how gorgeous you are and know you fully belong to him, it really gets him going, and you certainly take notice of how amorous he is when you're out together (combined with how vigorously he fucks you when you get home). Thinks you're insanely sexy pregnant and likes to watch you ride him with a big belly. You'd both better be a lot more careful about your contraception after the first baby if you don't want another, because getting to see you that way only makes his kink worse.
The Ghoul has a breeding kink because he's incredibly possessive. It's been literal centuries since he's come across anything in this world that he cares for enough to want to claim it, and you're officially claimed. He wants everyone, including you, to know that you belong to him and only him. Other ghouls can smell him on you much more strongly if he cums inside you, and he enjoys the way filling you full scratches his most primal itch. It's just an added benefit that he's almost positive he can't actually get you pregnant, but...there are records of ghouls reproducing with other ghouls. Haven't stranger things happened?
The little thrill he gets at the idea is just nature trying to take over.
At least, that's what he tells himself.
You'd be hard-up to get him to admit it, but he wants you to need him. He wants an excuse to baby you and pamper you and force you to let him do things for you without the vulnerability of admitting that he wants to do those things for you anyway because he's deeply in love with you.
You complain that your feet hurt during your journey for the day? He'll carry you everywhere you want to go from now until the end of time, if that's what you want. Stomach and appetite troubles? Name whatever you want, he'll find it for you, no matter how many caps he has to pay. Tired? "Of course you're tired, sweetheart. Let's stop for today. Here, sit down. Do you need some water? Eat this, you need some calories. Let me rub your legs and feet for you." It is endless and sort of surreal for you to adjust to.
Speaking of journeys, I think he also secretly wants to settle down a bit. He does already after he meets and falls for you, seeing how much the constant trekking back and forth across the irradiated desert takes out of you, and he definitely would want to do so expeditiously if you were pregnant. It's not like secure places don't exist in this world. He can keep you, and anyone else who may come along, safe just fine.
He'd be afraid to fuck you if you were pregnant, worried that he'll hurt you or make you sick or make something bad happen with the pregnancy. But if you reassure him, maybe beg a little, he'll do his best to make sure your urges are satisfied. Sit on his face and let him slide his tongue through your insanely sensitive folds, lie back and let him fuck you with those agile fingers while he jerks himself off. You'll miss being properly penetrated, badly, but you won't go without.
He wants an excuse to be even more protective of you than usual. Give him a reason to literally pluck men's eyes out for daring to so much as look at you, a reason to never let you out of his sight ever again. If you thought he was ready to commit violence to keep you safe before, you haven't seen anything yet.
I can't imagine it would be easy to have a big family in the Wasteland, but reminding him how much he loves being a dad would certainly have the thought on his mind.
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heejake-hoon · 10 days
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Warning: mdni, overstimulation, dumbification, creampie, dirty talk...
"Awww my little cumdump, are u having fun?" Sunghoon faux cooed at ur shaking state as you were bonded to the bed frame both ur hands and legs spread open with a wand vibrator pressed securely on ur clit, it has been more than 2 hours of torture, with you cuming and cuming again u weren't sure if ur body could take it any more, drool and tears dropping messily on ur face you wanted to beg him to stop, wanted to tell him to free you, but you weren't even able to say that, so fucked up from all the orgasms he forced out of u with his toy.
"Hmmmm? Baby did I leave you dumb? Can't even answer me? What a useless fuckdoll." You wanted to cry, the humiliation making your skin heat up even more. "It's okay my little slut, don't worry about it. You don't have to do anything, I am going to take care of you. Your just gonna be a good girl and let me do as I please, yeah?" Sunghoon smirked as he turned off the toy making you sigh in relief, you weren't sure if you could take another one of his games, not after this one. He unbound u, letting u fall flat on the bed as he got up from the chair where he was sitting comfortably the entire time."Hoonie... no more." you croaked out, voice raspy from all the screaming, the only thing on your mind was sleep."You want me to stop? Okay then. I won't do anything." Sunghoon shrugged, you sighed in relief thinking he finally got bored of teasing u.But oh how wrong you were.Sunghoon grabbed your hips, lifting them up so your ass was up in the air. You were too tired to even lift your head up and see what he was doing, just sighing happily as his hands caressed ur lower back, kneading ur flesh.
Then the sound of a cap opening was heard and you realized what was about to happen, making you jerk and try to wiggle away.
"Shhhh, don't move, my princess. Be a good girl and let me fill that pretty little cunt up." You were too tired, too sensitive, you couldn't take him inside u. "Sunghoon, wait no-" you cried out, trying to get away from his hold.
"What was that? Did you just tell me no?" Sunghoon's tone suddenly turned ice cold and you whimpered at that, realizing your mistake."No, no. I- I'm sorry. I was just- no. I'm a good girl, I'm a good girl for hoonie." you mumbled, words almost unintelligible. "Mmmmm, that's right, you're my good girl. Always so sweet and obedient for me. My perfect doll." You sighed happily, glad that you could please him.
Then the next second you were crying out as you felt him plunging deep inside you."Hoonie! It-it hurts!" you tried to get away, but his hands were like iron on your hips.
"Aw baby, does it hurt? But you were begging me to fill u up earlier." You gasped at that. You did? When did you say that? You weren't even aware of that "H-how..." you whispered, confusion evident on ur face. "That's when I knew you were ready. Your body knows what it needs, and you're just too dumb to realize it. So I helped you out." Sunghoon smirked as he thrust deep inside you, making you whimper in pain and pleasure "Ah-h! S-sunghoon. It's-it's too much!"
"You're taking it so well baby. My pretty little slut." The soft kisses he gave you were contradicting so much from how hard he was pounfing you, sending you over the edge once again. "Hoonie- I, ah! Ah! Hoonie!" You couldn't even form proper sentences as he hit your g-spot with every thrust. "Come on, cum for me again, my little princess. You know how much I love your tight pussy clenching around my cock."His filthy words and his rough thrusts were all it took for you to cum, vision turning white as your body spasmed.
Sunghoon followed shortly after, pumping you full of his warm seed, filling you up so nicely, and you moaned at the feeling "So perfect. My perfect baby." He cooed, peppering your face with kisses and you smiled lazily at that.
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pwinkprincess · 24 days
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gettin high w geto :3 ( do what you will w that info hehe)
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u get me so high ୨ৎ
you’ve never been a chronic smoker, unlike your boyfriend who can’t go a day without rolling up. for him, its a requirement to smoke. he can’t start his classes without hotboxing his car first, he can’t eat his lunch without taking a few hits, he can’t even have a good nights sleep without smoking.   
even though he denies with every fiber in his body that he isn’t addicted to weed, and he could stop whenever he felt the need to. you knew deep down, his words were ignored.  
suguru is also a hypocrite. he smokes all day but when it comes to you, he tends to be strict.   
“don’t smoke. that shit fucks with your brain.” suguru told you one day when you reached for his blunt that sat in the black ashtray. you wave him off and bring it to your lips.  
he observes you from his position on the bed, right beside you, his back leaning against the headboard. as you take inhales, you could feel yourself feeling lighter and lighter. "suguru teach me how to ghost." you tell him. you were trying to teach yourself, but every attempt ended with you either simply failing or you are getting choked up on the smoke. you were beginning to get dizzy from all of your failed attempts, a clear sign that you need to slow down and drink water.  
"chill." he mumbles, taking the blunt from you. he sets it on the bedside table. he picks up a half full bottle of water, unscrews the cap, and hands it to you. you take quick gulps; you didn't realize how dehydrated you became until you seen him holding water.  
he picks a movie for you to watch. once the movie begins, he's quick to pull you beside him. in your relationship, some might assume you're the clingy one due to how stoic suguru looks, but if only they knew he's the cuddler.  
you try to tune in with the movie, you really do. but for some reason (you choose to blame it on the weed), suguru suddenly smells so good. and just his body heat has your pussy leaking. you keep throwing subtle glances in sguru's direction, only to see him intrigued with the movie he picked.  
with a sigh, you lay your head on his chest and throw your leg over his. he wraps his arms around your shoulders, hugging you closer to him. you lay still for a few minutes until you calm your nerves.  
slowly, you snake your hand to the band of his sweatpants. you bite down on your lip as you past through the elastic and reach for his dick. with gentle touches, you softly grope it through his boxers.  
"babe." suguru sighs. a warning to stop? a confirmation to keep going? you don't exactly know. you respond with a soft hum as you grip his length, coaxing it to harden. 
“you do this every time you get high.” suguru tuts.  
your hum merges into a whine at his observation. “can’t help it, sugu. you’re jus’ so sexy.”  
he only lets out a playful “mhm” as he lifts his hips so that he can pull his boxers and sweatpants off. once his cock is free, you’re instantly drooling. you’re quick to latch onto his cockhead, hungrily licking up at the salty beads of precum. 
suguru’s low moans echo throughout the room as he looks down at your ass. you were arched so perfectly for him on all fours. unfortunately, with him laying down in front of you he couldn’t see your wet pussy dripping from how needy you are for him. 
his long arms reach to your panties, he blindly thumbs your clit through your thin panties. soft little moans escape through your mouth as you bob your head around suguru’s dick. he is so thick, it’s almost a challenge for you to wrap your mouth around him fully.  
“c’mere, come sit on your dick, baby.” he coos at you.  
you’re quick to remove his dick from your mouth. your lower face is all messy and there’s remaining bits of drool seeping through the corner of your mouth. you scramble on top of him. you choose to do reverse cowgirl. you’re so desperate for him, you don’t even wait to take you panties off, choosing to just slide the fabric to the side. 
your head feels like it’s spinning, and you cannot tell if it’s from the weed or from suguru’s thick cock stretching your pussy to the max. when your ass smacks against suguru’s pelvis you let out a hiss.  
suguru bites down on his lip. he raises his hand and gives your right ass cheek a hard slap and follows up with your left cheek as well. “ride this dick, sexy.”  
“mmmhmm.” you already feel yourself becoming dick-dumb. you begin bouncing yourself on his thick dick, you’re so wet your pussy is already making a mess all over him. 
everything feels so hazy. you’re moaning and letting out cute mewls every time his cock brushes that spot in you that makes you see stars. 
“s’ big.” you pant. you straighten your posture, your hands come up to fondle with your own nipples. you pinch and twist them, adding more to the sensation. 
“fuckin’ squeezin’ me.” suguru groans. he tries to focus on lighting the blunt you had started a few minutes ago but it proves to be more than hard when a wet tight pussy is clinging onto him. 
“feel good, papa?” you ask. you seek out reassurance. you want him to feel as good as you’re feeling. you tilt your head so that you could look at him to the best of your ability. 
seeing suguru low lidded, and a fat cloud of smoke escaping his mouth has your pussy clenching around him even tighter. arousal drips onto his cock like an upcoming wave.  
“feelin’ so good, sexy. so fuckin’ good.” he breathes out. “keep going, yeah just like that. mhm, pussy’s gushing all over me. you gonna clean your mess up when we’re done?” his mouth is sooo dirty and it has you panting out inaudible promises. 
his dick and the weed mixed has you on a different high. a high a strain itself couldn’t bring you on. 
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dazed-and-confused23 · 2 months
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Dear Hearts and Gentle People
Summary: You don't expect to see the ghoul you fucked two weeks ago passed out in the sand close to a caravan trail. You stop and decide to help.
Pairings: The Ghoul | Cooper Howard x Female Reader
Continuation -> HERE
*this ghoul has taken me by the reins and will not let go. So I hope you enjoy some fluff and a continuation of Quickie.
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Considering that your profession is that of a wondering trader, you have all sorts of goodies for sale at all times. That included the drug that all ghouls coveted, the liquid miracle that kept them from going feral. You didn't know what it was made from or how it was made, but they sold for good caps, so you kept them handy.
And it was fortunate that you did so when you find the ghoul that you'd had sex with not two weeks ago passed out on the side of the dirt trail. You cautiously approach, gun at the read in case he'd already lost himself and gone off the deep end. You nudge him with the toe of your boot.
"Hey, Uh- Cooper, right? You okay down there?" You ask, and a groan of displeasure is your answer. You sigh heavily and crouch, placing both hands on his side so that you can roll him over to his back. The ghoul blinks up at you slowly, and you wonder how long he's been here.
Cooper licks his dry lips, searching this smoothskin's face, and his lips pull up in a tired smirk when he realizes that it's you who found him. Huh. What were the odds.
"Well," He croaks, voice low and weak, "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes."
You huff at him and take in his disgruntled appearance, the ghoul dried out and baked in the high sun. This weak, Cooper must have been here for at least a full day. You were impressed that he was still alive.
"We should really stop meeting like this," you quip and sling you backpack around you. You shift through the pockets until you find the metal case you keep the chems you sell inside. The ghoul watches you with interest, cracked lips twisted in a pleased smirk.
"Right pocket," He gruffed out, and you understood her meant his inhaler. You fished it out and loaded the drug in, then pressed the mouthpiece to his lips before pressing down the plunger. Cooper greedily sucked it down, and a shot of energy blazed through his system, allowing the ghoul to push himself up after a moment.
You stood and stepped back to give him room, watching with interest as Cooper dusted himself off and fixed his hat back on his bald head. He clears his throat when he turns to you, a curious look in his pretty eyes.
"What do I owe you?" He asks. The ghoul isn't fond of being in debt to people, even the ones he likes.
You shrug, though a mischievous smile lingers on your lips, and you hand over two extra vials of the drug that the ghoul obviously needs. It wouldn't be that big of a hit to your profits.
"Let's just say it's on the house," you say and wink at Cooper, who laughs and closes the distance between the two of you. His hand finds your jaw, cradling it in his calloused palm.
"Then allow me to pay you for any future transactions, Darlin'," Coop rumbled and then tugged you in for a much needed kiss.
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arienotari · 5 months
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Drowning
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Summary: When your worst fear becomes a reality and all you have on the other side is a brown eyed boy.
Pairing: Wally Clark x Reader
Warnings: Death, Drowning, Bullying
Edit: I am terrible at editing, and I tried my best so I'm sorry if you find any mistakes. This is my first full story I am releasing out into the world.
Word Count: 3330
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I’ve never liked swimming.
People say it makes them feel free, but I felt anything but free. Every chance I got I avoided water at all costs. It's suffocating. Something about floating in a body of endless water and possibilities always made my skin crawl. One major problem that contributes to my fear is the fact that I can’t swim. I don’t blame anyone for this setback because I've never asked how to or showed interest. My inability to swim didn’t become a problem for me until my senior year of high school. I’ve gotten out of swimming class every year up until now and I had no choice but to take it. I tried to tell the swimming coach and counselors privately that I couldn’t take the class. All they said was I could stay in the shallow end. That I’ll be fine. I believed them. 
Word spread quickly throughout my class that I couldn’t swim once they started noticing I wouldn’t leave the 4ft mark. I didn’t really care, all I cared about was getting through the year. I was never really popular which didn’t matter much to me but being in this class never made it more obvious how much I hated it here. I felt eyes on me at all times which only made being in the water worse. 
It was March 12, 2015. Only a couple months left of school and then I’d be off to NYU living my dream of being a writer. First I had to get through 4th period swim class of course. I walked into the girls changing room preparing for the next 50 minutes of anxiety as I put my swimsuit on. I folded my dark blue jeans, my gray sweater, and a white tank top with lace on the trim that I wore under the sweater. Making my way to the pool I started putting my hair up in place of a hair cap I seem to have forgotten. Staring at the water I can see the bottom but it doesn’t stop the feeling of wanting to crawl up from my throat. Half the girls were already in the water preparing for a game of volleyball. Step by step down the ladder my hands begin to shake and my mouth becomes dry like I just ate pancakes. I make my way to the back to avoid any confrontation or any chance of being involved in the game. The one thing good about this class is it has a perfect view of the sky. I always get lost staring out at it wondering who’s also looking back. It makes me forget the situation I’m in and my environment. That's until a ball lands in front of me and about 15 girls are looking back at me waiting for my next move. I pick it up with my now calmer hands from before and spike it. Thankfully I made it over to the other side and the girls immediately turned back to the game. Not without some dirty looks but quite frankly I don’t really care. I watch as Mrs. Withers gets a call which seems to be serious as she tells us that she needs to step outside and when the bell rings to just go ahead. It’s only 10 minutes later when the shower bell rings and I feel the crushing weight lift off my shoulders. The other girls split based on which ladder they are closest to heading to the locker room and I help one of the girls get the volleyballs together. Making my way back to solid ground I rush to put the balls away not wanting to be one of the last to leave. I grab a towel on the rack near the other end of the pool as I make my way back seeing the last of everyone leaving. At least that’s what I thought until I heard someone behind me scream “Wait up” before running past me tripping me in the process. Losing my balance I watch as the one who screamed leaves the room leaving me alone. I hit the water with a loud splash waiting to hit the bottom to kick back up only to never feel my feet hit the concrete. I try to reach for the surface but everything I try seems to pull me down further. I panic, feeling my lungs on fire from filling with water. I tried to scream but no one could hear me and no one ever would. Everything was starting to go black and everything was becoming numb. All I could think about was how much I would miss out on. Finally, everything goes dark and I feel like I’m floating but I’m not, I’m being pulled up. I grab onto whoever’s pulling me up as if my life depended on it. Once I reach the surface my lungs fill with air as I begin to cough unbearably with my eyes screwed shut. I feel myself being hoisted up on the ground and out of the water. I’m pulled into the person who saved me as I am unable to move from exhaustion. When the person holds my face to center it I finally open my eyes as I am met with wide brown ones. 
“Are you okay”, he’s breathing heavily as I study him blocking out his yell to someone to bring his jacket. 
I feel a warm weight on my shoulders seeing its a blue and white letterman jacket out of the corner of my eye. 
“Thank you for saving me” I give him a weak smile but all I get in return is an expression filled with nothing but sorrow and guilt. 
Still seated on the floor I hear a horrified scream from beside me causing me to whip my head towards the chaos. Suddenly time stops and everything goes silent as I choked out a sob watching as a student and Mrs. Withers pull my body out of the water. The whole class comes to watch as they try to resuscitate me but nothing is happening. I feel the stranger push my head into his chest and I begin to cry harder than before. He repeats “I know’s” and “I’m sorry’s” as my world comes crashing down on me. 
Hours later we are still in the same position my hair and clothes dry now along with a tear-dried face. It’s dark outside with only the poolside fluorescent lights to illuminate our two figures. I begin to shiver more and more as the stranger who pulled me out of the water rubs my back and arms. 
“We need to get up, you're getting too cold” he whispers, pulling his body to get a better look at me. 
I lift myself up getting a better look at him as well as I memorize his long structured face, beauty marks, and brown eyes. After a minute I nod and try to stand up realizing that I’m still exhausted, the position not helping adding to the pain. He helps me steady myself and fully extend as he holds my hands making sure I’m okay. 
“You should take a shower and change into your regular clothes, I’ll probably do the same and I will explain everything once we're done. Okay?”, he says softly with an uneasy half-smile waiting for my response.
“Okay,” I whisper back at him not wanting to raise my voice feeling it’ll be too much to handle. 
His smile fills out more as he nods and begins to turn away to do the same tasks as me. I begin to turn away as well before I realize I never got the guy's name who pulled me out of the pool and stayed with me for hours. 
“What’s your name?,” I said, grabbing his arm to stop him from walking away. 
He looks down at my hand holding his arm which makes me see I’m still holding onto him causing me to let go. 
“Wally, Wally Clark”, he said with a wide smile that made me feel alive again for just a split second. 
After warming up from the shower I changed into my clothes from before that were neatly folded. As I begin to walk out of the locker room I get a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look back at the girl staring at me feeling disconnected from who she was or what she could’ve been. I take a heavy breath before opening the door to leave and face the reality of my situation. Stepping into the hall, the school looked unnatural to me with the lights off. I look over and see a less wet and cold Wally approach me with the same smile as before. 
“How was the shower? Do you feel better?”, he asked one right after the other. 
“The shower was good and I’m doing the best I can with the fact that I am already dead,” I said, peering up at him only noticing now how tall he really is. 
“I know it's hard and I’m sorry it happened this way but I will try to explain everything the best I can.”, he said, extending his elbow out for me to take it as we began to walk further down the halls.
And Just like he said Wally kept his word and explained everything to me that he could. Like how we’ll never be able to leave school grounds unless we pass on. He also showed me all the other kids stuck here just like us and told me how some passed. As well as the weird support group that the kids attend in the gym. Even though he’d joke he never sugar-coated anything, which I couldn't help but appreciate. I won’t lie, the first couple of weeks were rough. I was plagued by the memory of what happened as well as the thoughts of the future I’ll never get. It definitely didn’t help that everyone at school was mentioning it and not in a sorrowful way. During those few weeks, Wally helped a lot with trying to be a distraction so I wouldn’t focus on others. I guess one of the perks of being dead is being able to duplicate belongings so I was able to get my phone and journal. I found the perfect spot on the football field to just listen to music and lie down. I’d close my eyes and imagine what life could’ve been but I knew I couldn’t do that forever, so I started to write more. It was easier to put my wishes and fantasies on pages without having to dwell on them. I usually kept my writing to myself so around 7:30 every day I’d go to my little bubble of solitude on the field and write. It was May now so the sun would start to set around 8 giving me enough light and a view. 
“What are you writing?'' I suddenly hear Wally's voice right next to my ear. 
“Jesus Christ Wally you scared me to death”, I said, jumping in reaction to the sudden deep voice, placing my hand on my heart and dropping my journal. 
“I mean it's a little too late for that someone must’ve beat me to it.”, he said smiling at me as he sat down next to me grabbing my journal to open it. 
I glare at him and snatch my journal back. 
“What too soon?”, he said with a stupid grin trying to get my journal back.
“Just a little,” I said, scrunching my nose. 
“No but seriously what are you writing? You come out here every day and write in that little journal.” He said leaning back on his arms a bit more to get my full face into view. 
I try to hide the blush that has crept up on my face when I realize that he’s been watching me come out here. After a moment I brush my hair out of my face and am met with those famous brown eyes. I take a deep breath before explaining to him my reasons. 
“I don’t want to stay stuck in the living because all it’ll do is bring harm. All I thought about for the past couple of months was what I’ll miss but I never stopped and processed my death. I’ve been hurting for all the things I couldn’t change and it caused me to push anything away, even you. So I thought why not write my wishes and wants down so they don’t stay on my mind. At least this way I can close the journal.” I said with a tiny smile looking up at him as he was staring back intently listening. 
“Before I died I wanted to be a writer and I had my whole life planned out, I was going to attend—“ 
“NYU, I know,” he said, finishing my sentence before I could. 
I watch as Wally sits up straighter and scooches closer to me before tilting his head. I can tell he’s trying to figure out what to say because he’s fidgeting with his necklace. I wait for him because there’s no point in rushing, I have all the time in the world. 
“I’ve been watching you for a long time,” he says with a breath held in waiting for my response. 
One of my eyebrows lifts as I tilt my head in response to the slightly weird statement. 
“Oh god, that came out creepier than I meant it to. What I meant to say was even when you were alive I knew who you were.” He said laying back fully down in the grass. 
I watched as he covered his eyes with his hands with a frustrated grunt like he was trying to revert into a hole. 
“What do you mean?”, I said moving towards his laid position to where I’m now bent over leaning towards him leaving my crisscross position to now on my knees. 
I grab his hands that are covering his eyes and pull them down to his chest as I hold them to keep him from covering his eyes again. How he’s looking at me I can tell he’s debating with himself. I wait and listen before I watch as he closes his eyes. 
“The first time I saw you was during your freshman year in the library. I was looking for something to watch for group movie night. I had Rhonda yelling at me in one ear and Charlie telling me something in the other. I was getting a little annoyed but then I looked between the bookshelves and there you were.” He takes a pause to look at me and I squeeze his hand in return to continue. 
“You were tucked into the corner where the bookshelves meet, where no one could see you. In your hands was The Devil’s Highway by Luis Alberto Urrea. I watched as you cried the further you got into the book. After that day I came back to the library every day to see you. I even started picking up some of the books you read, but I couldn't finish half of them though.” He said with a small smile on his face and in his voice.  
He sat up which caused him to become closer to me while he took my hands instead of me holding his. He was looking at the grass for a minute while rubbing his thumbs over my knuckles. When he looked up I could see that he was tearing up making my heart ache. 
“I knew you had anxiety when it came to swim class because you couldn’t swim so I’d go to try and help. Even though you couldn’t see or feel me, I was always there.” He said lifting his hand up to tuck a loose strand of my hair that fell. 
His hand stayed in place as he cupped my cheek and I went to ask why he was tearing up because of this before he spoke. 
“I watched you die. I was there and I couldn’t do anything until it was too late, that’s why I was there. I had to watch you struggle knowing I couldn’t grab you or even scream for help.” He said with his voice croaking with the struggle of what he’s had to go through. 
My eyebrows furrowed as I watched the walls I built up crumble down with one look at him. I never knew he’d been holding in something like this for so long. If I had known I would’ve never tried to shut him out. I was scared of what had happened and how my life had ended but I never thought about him. He was always there and whenever I needed help he was right by my side. I moved from my position pulling him into a soul-crushing hug. It took him a second to respond to the sudden gesture but after a couple seconds, I felt his arms wrap around me.
“Wally my death wasn’t your fault, I need you to know that.”, I softly spoke while hugging him harder, feeling him return it. 
We continued hugging for what felt like years but could never be enough for me to be satisfied. One of my arms is coming up from under his arm grappling his shoulder while the other is around his waist. His arms are wrapped around my waist and I can feel his hands rubbing small circles on my back. Looking up from being tucked away in his shoulder I notice the sun is beginning to set. I begin to pull away and when I make eye contact with him again he’s only a mere few inches away from my face. I raise my hand to brush his hair away from his face as it has flattened from the hug. My hand slips down as it trails from the side of his head to where it now rests on his neck. He’s staring at me the whole time while I do this and when I look up to meet his eyes my heart quickens. Well, I imagined it quickened. There’s something about those brown eyes I’ve grown fond of that makes me feel alive again. His eyes flash down to my lips and back up to my eyes like he’s silently pleading. I give into his wants that now become a need for me and all I can do is nod. His hand comes up to my face pulling me towards him as our lips meet. The kiss felt like everything in my little life led up to this moment. Nothing else seemed to matter to me but the boy in front of me right now who just confessed that he’d been watching me for years. Wally’s the one to pull away first. I slowly opened my eyes to look at him wanting to capture this moment forever. He tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear before cupping my cheek and giving me a quick peck. I can’t restrain my gleaming smile as he pulls away for the second time. 
“Well I’m glad we got that cleared up”, he laughed as he spoke. 
I glared at him while punching him in the arm causing him to fall back but not before dragging me down with him. I land on his chest relaxing in his touch like it’s something I've been craving but have been deprived of. We lay in comfortable silence as I felt Wally rub circles with his thumb on my hip. 
“I’m glad it was you who found me. I don't know what I would’ve done” I said, being the first one to disturb the still air. 
“I am too,” Wally said into my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 
We lay there all night even when the stadium lights came on we just talked about everything and anything. Maybe the afterlife won’t completely suck. 
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Note
Ethan is trying to do work and the reader distracts him which turns into more. Just Ethan being flustered and trying to focus while reader teases him. 🤗
I've done a version of this with Mindy
Warnings: nudity, teasing
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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‘’Did you see my green highlighter?’’
‘’No. I have a blue one, here.’’ You fished it from your pencil case, but Ethan didn’t take it.
‘’I can’t use blue.’’
‘’I have pink, yellow and orange if you prefer—’’
‘’No. That’s not what I meant. I have a color code. Green is for the things I understand, blue is for what I don’t understand and the glittery gel pen is for underlining things that I think are gonna be in the exams.’’
Fondness filled your stomach. He was so precious and nerdy at the same time. You reached across the bed to grab the collar of Ethan's henley and kissed him sweetly.
‘’Eh…what was that for?’’ Ethan asked, a little dumbfounded. ‘’I love your kisses, it’s just that we really need to study—’’
‘’You are such a nerd.’’ You kissed him again, lingering your lips on his. ‘’But I love you.’’
Ethan’s cheeks flushed the cutest shade of pink. ‘’I love you too.’’
You went back to studying, reading pages of textbooks until your eyes burned. Why was there so much to read in econ? Maybe you should switch majors?
‘’Have you read the chapter about taxation?’’ Ethan asked, a pen in one hand and a highlighter in the other. ‘’My mind is literally going to explode from the amount of information.’’ His eyes were fixated on his textbook, concentrated on what he was reading.
A breath of air left your lips. ‘’I have not. Sorry.’’ You ran a hand through your hair, flicking through pages with your other. ‘’I’m like…two chapters behind.’’
Ethan snapped his head up. ‘’Two?! What have you been doing all this time? Mrs. Coleman is gonna question us about these chapters next lesson.’’
He was right, but you had been studying for over three hours and nothing was sticking to your brain anymore. Your learning batteries were full for today. Maybe you’ll bring your textbook to your shift at the campus library tomorrow. Thursday afternoons are always quiet.
Before you, Ethan had returned to his reading, pen cap between his teeth while he was underlining long paragraphs. Sometimes, you wished he wasn’t so serious during study dates. School was important, but it doesn’t mean you can’t take a few makeout breaks.
You tried getting back to reading, but the words were not sticking. So you threw a paperclip at Ethan. It hit his chest and you grinned amusedly.
‘’Hey! Stop throwing shit at me,’’ he scolded, throwing it back at you.
‘’Let’s take a break.’’
Ethan shook his head. ‘’Can’t. I have another chapter to read and then I’m meeting with a study group.’’ He checked the time on his phone, making sure he wouldn’t be late.
A study group? You thought you were going out for late dinner at the café right outside campus. They have this new breakfast all day menu and you couldn’t wait to have waffles for dinner.
You pouted in disappointment. Guess there won’t be any waffles tonight…
‘’Can we at least cuddle before you go?’’ you asked, impatient to wrap your whole body around Ethan like a koala and kiss his face while he holds you back with his strong arms.
Your question was left pending and you were tempted to chuck a pillow at the curly haired nerd before you — but you didn’t. Instead, you took advantage of focused attention and removed your shirt and bra without him noticing. You felt a shiver up your spine when the cool air of Ethan's dorm hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to peak.
Ethan was addicted to your tits. Maybe he’ll put down his textbooks for a few minutes.
‘’This part is really important. Do you think we should make flashca—’’ Ethan cut himself and you heard him make a little noise, his bambi eyes falling on your breasts exposed right before him. The pen he was holding fell from his grasp and you smirked.
You felt the weight of Ethan’s eyes on you, all the information he just read suddenly swept away. ‘’What is it you were saying?’’ You let your hand crawl up his jeans-covered thighs and a swallow bobbed its way over his adam's apple when you almost reached his crotch. ‘’Cat’s got your tongue, love?’’
Ethan opened his mouth to speak, but your hand was getting higher and higher. A whimper slipped from his lip when you reached your desired spot, feeling him growing stiff beneath your palm. It’s so good to tease him.
He reached for your breasts, his palms enclosed over them, kneading into them as his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store.
You sighed in pleasure, grazing your fingers along Ethan’s jaw. ‘’How many chapter do you have left again?’’ 
Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana
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yoongiseesawmp3 · 11 months
Text
banana pancakes - seungcheol (m)
summary: when the city girl comes back home for the summer, the cocky diner owner tasks himself with making her feel welcome. 
word count: 12k
warnings: not quite enemies to lovers, more like annoyance to lovers; smut, afab reader, gendered nicknames (mostly just city girl), oral (m receiving)
masterlist
seungcheol was in the middle of a lunch rush when you walked in. you looked frazzled and out of place, but he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. he almost dropped someone’s blt because he couldn’t stop staring. you however couldn’t figure out who in this dingy place could possibly be the owner, so you awkwardly stand to the side at the counter while you squint at the specials board.
“what’ll you have?” cheol asks as he rounds the bar, ending up at the cash register in front of you. “speak quickly.”
“excuse me?” you ask, taken aback.
“it’s busy, you’re holding up the line, order now or i’ll pick for you,” he tries again and you blink at him in shock. people in the city were rude, sure, but not like this.
“fine, order for me then,” you say as you hand him your card. “and add a black coffee. all of this is to go.”
“i scared you off so soon?” cheol smirks as he rings you up. “total’s two dollars and fifty cents.”
“uh, that’s all?”
“meal’s on me,” he shrugs. “won’t charge you for it if it ends up being something you don’t like.”
“oh, well, thanks,” you say as you sign the receipt. “when will it be ready?”
“when it’s ready,” cheol replies like it’s obvious. 
“wonderful service here,” you say as you roll your eyes. you take a seat at the newly open stool at the counter and cheol tsks.
“seats are for customers who eat here,” cheol says while he gets to work with your coffee. 
“make the food faster and i’ll leave sooner,” you counter back. cheol nods, smiling to himself as he goes to the back. when he reemerges he’s got one container in his hand that he drops off to you before skillfully helping everyone else at the counter. you watch in quiet appreciation, noticing how his buff chest makes his plaid shirt fight for its life to not pop open. you see bits of curly hair peeking out from under the backwards cap on his head, and-
“that’s the last of it,” cheol says as he drops another container off in front of you. he comes back a moment later with a bag and starts packing it up for you as he explains, “had some left over banana pancakes from breakfast, hope you’re fine with that even though it’s past noon.”
“no, that’s great,” you sputter out, “that’s my favorite kind actually.”
“noted,” cheol says as he holds your gaze for a moment. “then i made you some turkey sausage to go with it. hope it’s worth the two bucks.”
“i’m sure it will be,” you say as you grab the bag. “thanks-”
“cheol,” he smiles. “and you are?”
“y/n,” you reply. “you new here?”
“nope, but you are.”
“no i’m not,” you shake your head. “i grew up here. i’m just home for the summer.”
“from school?” cheol questions, wiping down the counter.
“my big city job, actually,” you reply. “i just quit so i need to live at home for a bit while i find a new one.”
“well it’s nice to meet you, city girl,” cheol smiles. “enjoy the food.”
“bit of advice?” you ask as you stand up, sipping your coffee. “fix the attitude. good coffee though.”
-
“and then he ended up paying for my food,” you finish explaining to your best friend, vernon. as soon as you left the diner you headed to vernon’s house (where he still lives with his parents - don’t mention it, it’s a touchy subject). 
“yeah, seungcheol’s a weird guy,” vernon replies as he takes another one of your pancakes and folds it up like a taco. “at least you got free food though, that means he likes you.”
“doubtful,” you roll your eyes. “he seems like a dick.”
“oh then he’s just your type,” vernon teases, and you kick at his lap. he’s the definition of bachelor living at home, he has the whole basement of his parent’s house to himself and there’s really just a bed, a couch, and a full set of instruments set up in the corner for his band that practices here. you’re currently sat on the couch, a movie long forgotten on vernon’s projector. you couldn’t stop talking about cheol, or thinking about him, since you left the diner. he really irked you today. “whatever. pretend you don’t think he’s sexy, but i think someone’s got a little crush.”
“screw you,” you laugh as you snatch the take out container from his lap. “you don’t get to eat my food anymore.”
“seungcheol does deliveries, you know,” vernon says coyly. “i could call him and he’ll be here in minutes...”
“eat all you want, just save me a pancake.”
-
after your debrief with vernon, you finally headed back home. you needed the time with your best friend to catch up and get some much needed insight on your current situation. you were staying at home for a while, yes, but you couldn’t decide how long that would last. you had quit your job in the city because you were burned out, and you didn’t know what was coming next. but the little bit you’ve spent at home has reminded you of how easy life here can be. you can’t decide if you need to refresh your city life, or just stay at home and slow it down for a while. vernon wasn’t much help, he just reminded you of all the things you’d miss about both places, and then not so subtly mentioned that cheol only exists in your small town. 
cheol. he’s a mystery to you, but thinking about him makes your blood boil. unfortunately, vernon told you, his diner is the only edible place in town right now. you don’t feel like cooking for yourself tonight, and your parents are currently out of town on vacation, so if you want a meal then you’ll have to face the bully in a baseball cap again. 
once you’ve unpacked at home, you collapse onto the couch in your living room, ready to relax and maybe order a pizza to keep you from seeing cheol again so soon. you spend a few minutes channel surfing only to be interrupted by your stomach growling, and you realize your fate is set. you’ll have to go back to the diner. 
when you walk through the door, you’re met with the ding of the bell and silence. there’s only one other person there, sitting at the far end of the counter with his food. at the sound of the bell cheol emerges from the back, wiping his hands and smiling. 
“back so soon, city girl?” he asks. “sit anywhere, i’ll bring you a menu.” wordlessly you find the stool you sat at earlier today and sit, smiling awkwardly at the only other customer here. he nods back, a patch of ketchup on the side of his lips. when cheol comes back he passes you a menu and asks the man, “all good hoshi?”
“you got anymore ketchup?”
“check your face.”
“charming, isn’t he?” hoshi, apparently, asks you. you chuckle politely and look at the menu, but hoshi’s interest is piqued. “sorry, what’s your name?”
“city girl!” cheol shouts from the back, and you shoot him a glare he doesn’t see.
“i’m y/n,” you reply. “nice to meet you. aren’t you friends with seungkwan?”
“i am! how do you know him?” 
“we went to school together,” you explain, and hoshi nods. 
“you’re vernon’s big city friend,” hoshi connects the dots. “what brings you back home?”
“need to save money while i look for a new job,” you tell him, and cheol joins you at the counter just then.
“saving money and yet you’ve eaten here twice today?”
“well you gave me my food for free earlier, so i thought i could get another deal,” you joke. 
“she got free food?!” hoshi shrieks. “i come here every day! i keep your lights on! i deserve a free meal every once in a while!”
“yeah, but you’re not a pretty girl, hosh,” cheol replies. 
“oh, i see what’s going on here,” hoshi smiles knowingly. you sputter trying to defend yourself, but cheol won’t let you. 
“do you know what you want?” he asks you, “or you want me to pick again?”
“how’s the fried chicken?” you ask hoshi instead. 
“oh, to die for,” he tries to convince you. “but if cheol really likes you then you should ask for something off menu-”
“gross,” you interject.
“-like pasta, he makes a killer carbonara-”
“hoshi,” cheol warns, and you hide your smirk seeing the blush on cheol’s cheeks. when he turns back to you it deepens because he sees how you’re staring at him. he clears his throat and asks, “so? chicken or not?”
“i’ll do the chicken and potatoes please,” you say with a nod. “and another coffee too.”
“it’s almost 8pm,” cheol stops. “you’re gonna drink coffee at 8pm?”
“you’ve still got some in the pot,” you nod toward the machine. “just give me what’s left and you won’t have to throw it out. i’m the only crazy person who drinks coffee this late apparently.”
“you’re never gonna sleep,” cheol continues to scold you.
“i will, promise,” you insist. “now give me the coffee, please. i’m a little tired of you telling me what i can and can’t have here.”
“this is riveting,” hoshi says with his chin on his hand, leaning over the counter as he watches your interaction. with cheol safely in the back, he scoots a couple seats closer and asks, “so do you think he’s hot?”
“excuse me?”
“it’s alright, you can tell me,” he says. “your secret is safe with hoshi.”
“i’m sorry, i don’t-”
“stop bothering my customer, man,” cheol says as he returns with a clean coffee mug. he pours what’s left from the pot and passes it to you, your hands brushing as he passes it over. “you tired or something? why’re you drinking coffee so late?”
“it’s 8pm, this isn’t late,” you say before taking a sip. “and it’s good coffee. sorry i wanted to give you money.”
“can i get the check?” hoshi asks, interrupting the way seungcheol was trying to commit the shape of your lips to memory. “i’ll leave you two alone.”
“no, you’re fine,” you say quickly, but cheol is faster and has the check and change ready for hoshi. he politely waves goodbye to you both, and after the ding of the bell the diner falls silent. cheol leans back against the counter with the coffee, watching you. “shouldn’t you be in the kitchen?”
“nope, i was waiting to see if anything interesting was gonna happen out here,” he replies as he crosses his insanely buff arms over his chest. 
“sorry buddy, but i’m all good,” you say as you take another sip of coffee. “just incredibly hungry.”
“then let me help you with that,” he says with a smirk before disappearing. you notice that your cheeks are hot, probably from how enraging seungcheol is. no other reason. 
-
one thing you’re determined to do while you’re home is clean out your childhood room. your mom has been complaining about how much junk you and your siblings have left here over the years, and you’re tired of the passive aggressive comments whenever you come visit. consider it an early birthday present mom, the old toys and decaying art projects will be gone before you know it!
it takes a few days for you to sort through all the junk, throwing out what’s unusable and making countless trips around town to donate the rest. you’re finally left with the bones of your room: a few childhood mementos you can’t bear to part with, the twin bed you’ll be sleeping on for the next few weeks, and a broken desk you can’t seem to move on your own. you’ve been frustrated by the thing more times than you can count, so you cave and call vernon for help.
“come move my desk for me,” you say as soon as he picks up.
“hello?” he replies, confused.
“hey,” you continue. “you know the desk in my room that’s been broken since high school? help me move it, please.”
“why?”
“because it’s annoying.”
“just like you?”
“please vernon?” you whine. “it’s too heavy for me on my own and my car isn’t big enough to drive it somewhere.”
“fine. you owe me pizza though,” he says as you hear keys jingling in the background. “be there soon.”
eventually there’s a knock at your front door, and you slump up from the couch grumbling about how late vernon is. you open the door, ready to complain about his punctuality, only to be met with cheol’s smiling face.
“hey city girl, heard you need a truck?” he asks as he leans forward, peeking into your house. “where’s the desk?”
“um, my room?” you reply, and you watch in shock as cheol walks in and makes himself at home. “where are you going?”
“to your room?” he turns around, hands in his pockets but smirk still perpetually on his lips. “vernon said you’d have it ready to go but i guess he didn’t realize how spoiled you must be.”
“spoiled?” you scoff, pushing past him to your room. “because i can’t move a desk by myself?”
“it’s alright, everyone has flaws,” cheol nods as he follows you like an eager puppy. he stops at the doorway to your room, taking it in. he tries to hide a smile when he sees the baby blankets and dolls strewn across your bed. “you gonna introduce me to your friends?”
“shut up,” you snap. “come help me with this.”
“can’t even give me a please?” he sighs, coming into your room anyway. he joins you at the desk, facing you at the other end. he gets a good grip and then says, “lift on three. one, two, three,” he huffs. it’s astounding how easy it is to move with cheol’s help, and he backs out of your room carefully to make sure you don’t trip. 
“so where’s vernon?” you ask, carefully walking the desk out of your house. you get to the front steps and cheol stops.
“you think you can get it down the stairs?” he asks. “don’t trip.”
“i’ll be fine,” you insist. “answer my question.”
“vernon doesn’t have a truck.”
“i didn’t say i needed a truck,” you grumble. “this could’ve fit in his van.”
“that broken down thing?” cheol chuckles. “i’m pretty sure the extra weight would make the car stop altogether. vernon felt the same, that’s why he asked me so nicely to come help a damsel in distress.”
“you’re obnoxious, did you know that?” you ask him as he guides you to lift the desk up into the back of his truck. 
“and you’re stronger than you look,” he comments slyly, watching as you straighten your clothes. “so where’s this going?”
“the dump?” you reply. “thanks for hauling it, i guess.”
“hey, whoa,” he whistles as you start turning back to your house, “where are you going?”
“inside?” 
“you’re not coming with me?” he asks with a pout. 
“you’re a big boy, you can manage on your own,” you reply with a similar pout.
“no, seriously,” he says, “you gotta come with me to tell me where this goes.”
“i don’t care, just drop it off somewhere,” you reply. 
“hm, and you said you weren’t spoiled,” cheol tsks as he climbs into his truck. “whatever. see you later city girl.”
“wait!” you shout over the sound of cheol’s truck starting. he rolls the window down to hear you better, an eyebrow quirked as he waits for you to go on. “um, let me grab my keys. i’ll be right back.”
“sure thing,” he smirks. “i’ll keep the seat warm for ya.”
-
“are you sure this is the right way?” cheol complains. you’ve circled this block three separate times, so sure that the donation center is somewhere on this street. 
“if you would just slow down,” you whine. “i was here the other day, i know it’s close by.”
“oh, so you can do things on your own?” cheol teases, and you cross your arms. “sorry, that was rude.” silence. “are you giving me the silent treatment now?” nothing. “god. you’re irritating, you know that?”
“hm right back at ya,” you reply. “turn left up here.”
“why?” 
“because i said so.”
“fine,” cheol grumbles. as soon as you’re around the corner you see the donation center and you point toward the drop off, already unbuckling your seatbelt so you can be out of the car ready to unload before cheol even puts it in park. “hey, be careful,” he scolds, following behind you and lowering the tailgate. “you’re annoying but i don’t want you to get hurt on my watch.”
“i’ll be fine,” you bark, and cheol holds his hands up in defense. 
“did i say something?” he asks as you work together to bring the desk back down. “you’re touchy.”
“you’re getting on my nerves,” you explain, “so let’s move this desk and get this lovely afternoon over with, hm?”
“so nice to someone doing you a favor, sweet thing,” cheol replies, and your grip on the desk almost slips at the new nickname. 
“what was wrong with city girl?”
“i like to spice things up,” cheol smirks, knowing he’s getting to you. once you drop the desk off he rushes back to the truck to open your door for you, offering his hand so you can easily climb back into the cab. you ignore him and pull yourself up, and cheol gives your ass an appreciative glance. you let him close the door for you, and you stew silently as he closes the tailgate and gets back into the driver’s side. “you all buckled?”
“yep.”
“you gonna be a brat the whole ride back?”
“depends, you gonna call me spoiled and irritating some more?”
“depends,” cheol smiles, and you let your head fall back onto the headrest with a groan. you drive on for a while in silence, and you try to sneak a glance at cheol without him noticing. he’s wearing a new flannel, the sleeves folded up to his elbows to show off his strong arms. his hair is still hidden by that cap, and you’re tempted to ask him to take it off so you can see the curls you know are hiding underneath. “whatcha lookin at?”
“you,” you don’t try to hide it. “just trying to figure out how someone the town seems to love so much can be such a jerk.”
“when you make the best food for miles people tend to overlook the attitude problems.”
“so you admit it?” 
“admit what?”
“that you have an attitude?” you ask, leaning forward to look at him better.
“yes, i do,” he says with a sidelong glance at you. “and the sooner you admit to yours the sooner i think we’ll get along.”
“in your dreams.”
“so you want me to dream about you?” 
“oh my god,” you groan, letting your head fall against the dashboard. “drop me off here, i’ll walk home.”
“no can do, city girl, there’s lots of scary things round these parts.”
“you’re one of them,” you say with an accusing finger pointed cheol’s way. 
“but i’m a sweetheart,” he says innocently. “and we’re almost back at your house, take a chill pill.”
“alright dad,” you grumble. there’s another beat of silence before you quietly mumble, “thank you, by the way.”
“what?” 
“i said thank you,” you repeat. “i don’t know how i would’ve moved that desk on my own. so thanks.”
“you’re welcome, sweet thing,” cheol says happily. “you know, if you got my number, you could ask me for help whenever you need it.”
“i think i can manage on my own,” you say with a nod as cheol pulls up to your house. he puts the truck in park and turns to face you, arms still draped over the steering wheel. 
“well, you know where to find me,” he replies. you think he’s going to say something else, but he just stares at you instead, so you awkwardly clear your throat and say your goodbyes. cheol watches you walk up to your house, making sure you’re safe inside before pulling off. you see him waiting when you turn to close the door, and you shyly wave goodbye before closing it behind you.
-
the next day you find yourself outside the diner again. you had been running around town all morning finishing up errands, and you tried holding out on grabbing a cup of coffee for as long as possible. you don’t know what cheol does to make the coffee so good but you can’t stop thinking about it. the coffee and the man serving it are addictive, and you take a deep breath before opening the door to find an empty diner. no diners, no cheol.
“hello?” you call out to no reply. you slowly walk toward the counter and take your usual seat, looking around. you hear footsteps but you’re not sure from where, and cheol appears from a dark corner at the end of the counter. he looks surprised but pleased to see you, and he takes his time moseying down to stand in front of you.
“well hey there sweet thing,” he greets you. “coffee?”
“please,” you nod. “how did you know? and where did you come from?”
“you’re a creature of habit,” he replies. “and my apartment is upstairs, it was slow so i went up to take a break.”
“really mixing your work life balance living above your business,” you tell him. “that’s not good for you.”
“coffee’s not good for you either,” cheol scolds despite handing you a fresh cup.
“then why do you serve it?” you question, taking the warm mug from him regardless.
“brings in the money,” he answers. “you want anything else?”
“hm, i’m good for now, thanks,” you reply, trying to organize the bags at your feet. cheol stands on his toes, looking over the counter to stare at your stuff.
“shopping till you drop?” he teases, and you groan as you sit back up.
“i promised my mom i would restock the house before my parents came back from vacation, so i had to get some groceries,” you start to explain. “but i forget we live in the middle of nowhere so i had to go to a couple stores to get everything i need.”
“your parents are coming back?” cheol asks, and you hum in response. he leans on the counter, abnormally close to you, before he says, “when do you want me to stop by to meet them?”
“um, never?” you respond. “you’ve probably met them already, why do you have to be weird about this.”
“because i like seeing you squirm,” he smiles before pushing back from you. “if you don’t need anything else i’m gonna go check on something in the back.”
“take your time,” you mumble. you busy yourself with something on your phone and almost miss the plate that cheol slides in front of you. you look up to see him with hopeful eyes, and then you look down to find out he’s giving you a piece of pie. “what’s this?”
“cherry pie.”
“i didn’t ask for pie,” you say, and he rolls his eyes.
“but i’m giving it to you. you could say thanks.”
“what if i don’t like cherries?” 
“tough!” he replies. “i’m not leaving you alone until you take a bite.”
“what if i’m allergic?” you try testing him further, squinting at him. he squints back before he replies, watching you take your first bite.
“then i’ll administer mouth to mouth,” he retorts, making you almost choke.
“that’s not how you stop an allergic reaction,” you cough out, and cheol watches on amused. 
“you want some water?”
“no, i need you ten feet away from me,” you laugh nervously. “i’ll take the check, i should go anyway.”
“but you didn’t finish the pie,” he pouts, and you feel something in your chest tighten. you settle back on the stool and sigh, taking another bite. “so?”
“it’s really good,” you mumble, some crumbs falling to your lips. cheol motions for you to wipe your mouth and, embarrassed, you grab a napkin. “but seriously. you can give me the check, i’ll go ahead and pay and you can go back to doing whatever diner man things you do.”
“i don’t have any diner man things to do right now,” he shrugs. “the check can wait.”
“why do you like messing with me so much?”
“everybody needs a hobby,” cheol smiles. “what do you like to do? throw flaming darts at a picture of me?”
“fascinating that you think i put that much emotion into how i feel about you,” you reply, and cheol mimics getting stabbed in the chest.
“damn, city girl, that hurts,” he hisses. 
“sorry, that was mean,” you backtrack. “i just. i don’t know how to handle you.”
“you can handle me however you want,” he nods. “i can take it.”
“good to know,” you mumble out, focusing on the pie. “thanks for this.”
“you’re welcome,” cheol smirks, watching you intently. “i’ve heard they pair well together. kinda like you and me. the coffee is bitter, like you,” cheol teases, “and the pie is sweet, like me.”
“i’m gonna vomit.”
“not on my counter,” cheol replies with a laugh, and you glare at him as you reach for your wallet. you hand your card over to him and he pretends to swipe it at the register. “should i make fake beeping noises to sell it or will you just let me give you this for free without a fight?”
“you can’t turn a profit if you keep giving people free food you know,” you scold. “not a good business plan.”
“i only do it for you,” he shrugs. “so i think i’m fine. come back whenever want, city girl. i’ll take care of you.”
-
one of the benefits of being home is seeing all of the friends you’ve missed while you were in the city. you’ve missed your movie nights with vernon and seungkwan specifically, so when vernon calls asking what your friday night plans are you’re thrilled to tell him you’re not busy. within minutes of showing up at his house you’re settled on the ginormous bean bag chair you claimed as yours several years ago. the boys are on the couch bickering over which movie to watch, but knowing vernon, he’ll probably have the final say regardless. you don’t care what you watch, you’re just happy to be here. 
“y/n, help,” seungkwan whines. “tell vernon i don’t want to watch cars.”
“it’s his house kwan,” you reply. “if he wants to binge all the cars movies then i’m afraid that’s what we’re doing tonight.”
“and this is why y/n is my favorite friend,” vernon says with a finger pointed in seungkwan’s face. he rolls his eyes and moves vernon’s hand before fighting back.
“if we’re watching cars then i need a drink,” he grumbles, and vernon reminds him that he keeps the minifridge stocked with beer just for seungkwan. he asks if you want one but you decline, too comfortable curled up on the bean bag to sit up just so you can drink. 
“you gonna make it through the movie or are you gonna fall asleep on us?” vernon asks you with a smile. you hum as you think about it.
“depends,” you say with a stretch. “are we eating? food would wake me up.”
“yeah, it’s on its way,” vernon replies and you nod, nuzzling back into the bean bag chair so you can see the screen better. 
“ok,” seungkwan starts as he sits back down, “i will watch this movie, maybe the second one, but i am not watching the third. and vernon i swear to god if you make me listen to life is a highway in that disgusting car of yours-”
seungkwan is cut off by the sound of the doorbell ringing, and you assume vernon, the one who lives here, will get up to check. you peek over at him and instead see both of the boys staring at you expectantly. 
“what?” 
“go get the door,” vernon says. “that’s our food.”
“you get it! this is your house!”
“you’re closer to the stairs,” vernon replies. “you know the rules.”
you groan loudly as you get up, and continue groaning as you stomp up the stairs, and you make sure your footsteps are loud and obnoxious as you walk to the front door to make the boys very aware of how annoyed you are. you pull the front door open just as the bell rings again, and you almost shriek when you see who’s on the other side.
“y/n,” seungcheol smiles. “fancy seeing you here.”
“what the hell?” you ask in disbelief. 
“you’re not happy to see me?” he pouts, readjusting the bags of food in his arms. “bummer.”
“i-what?”
“vernon ordered food, didn’t he?” cheol asks, and you nod. “i’m delivering the food. what about this is hard for you to understand?”
“none of it i guess,” you mumble, stepping aside to let him in. “do you need help carrying it?”
“nope, just show me where to go,” cheol says as he waits for you to close the door. you start walking him toward the basement and then stop, making cheol almost run into you. “whoa city girl, warn me next time.”
“s-sorry,” you stutter, “um, i was just gonna say the stairs are kinda narrow, so seriously, give me something to carry. it’ll be easier.”
“if you insist,” cheol sighs, nodding to the bags on top. “take those. if we’re going down stairs they might fall.” you take the bags, but don’t move further. cheol gives you a look and asks, “you forget where you’re going?”
“why are you here?”
“told you,” he smiles. “i’m making a delivery.”
“but the diner, who’s watching it?”
“it’s late, diner’s closed,” he explains. “i’m doing this and then going home.”
“and you always do the deliveries yourself?” you question, finally walking back toward the basement. 
“if they tip well,” he jokes. “and i’d heard you would be here, so that’s an added bonus.”
“you invited him?” you ask vernon as soon as you’re back downstairs. he turns to look at you and smiles when he sees cheol trailing behind you.
“i ordered food from him, yeah,” vernon says. “it’s good to support small businesses, y/n.”
“yeah, y/n,” cheol mimics. you try to help him place the food on vernon’s shoddy table so you and the boys can eat, but he insists, “i got it, sweet thing, you can sit down-”
“no, i’m trying to help so you can leave-”
“seriously, i’m good-”
amidst your bickering you accidentally knock into cheol, making the last part of the order topple over onto the floor. you gasp as you watch the drinks spill all over vernon’s rug, and you reach for the paper towels before kneeling down to clean the mess.
“vernon, i’m so sorry,” you say quickly, trying to dab everything up. you see him and seungkwan spring into action out of the corner of your eye, kwan looking for a real towel and vernon in search of something to handle the stickiness. that leaves you and cheol, who kneels in front of you to help in the meantime.
“you don’t know when to stop,” he mumbles as he frustratedly tears off some paper towels. you stop moving and glare at him as you ask, “what?”
“i said you don’t know when to stop,” cheol repeats, taking the dirty towels to the trash. “you don’t like people helping you. you’re too stubborn.”
“first i’m spoiled, now i’m stubborn?” you ask, still kneeling on the ground. cheol’s standing over you, returning your harsh stare, and for a moment your mind flashes to a very different situation with cheol looking down at you on your knees. “i hate you.”
“you keep telling yourself that,” cheol scoffs, walking away. “does vernon keep soap down here?”
“i mean it,” you say as you stand and follow him wandering around.
“if you hate me then why do you find a reason to see me every day?” cheol asks, spinning around to face you. “you’re either in my diner or in some kind of situation where you need my help-”
“your help?” you spit back. “i’ve never asked for your help.”
“moving your desk? feeding you? cleaning up a mess you made?” he lists off.
“oh you’re so full of yourself,” you mock. 
“is that why i feel like i catch you staring at me whenever you think i’m not lookin?” he asks, and you back down. “no, tell me. am i imagining that? or am i right, are you as obsessed with me as i am with you?”
“you, what?” you whisper, watching cheol intently as he calms himself down. 
“nothing. forget it,” he mumbles as he turns to leave. “enjoy the food.”
-
with your parents coming home, there was less time for you to hang around town and risk running into cheol. that’s a good thing, because you don’t think you could face him again after what happened in vernon’s basement. it was hard enough explaining to him and seungkwan what went down without them exchanging knowing glances, so you’re sure whatever feelings you have and don’t understand are just as obvious to cheol. 
cheol is glad for the break too, but he finds himself hopeful at the sound of each bell, looking up to see if it’s you coming through the door or not. yes, you’re annoying. yes, you made him mad the other day. but he still wants to explore whatever’s happening between you. he knows he can be hard to read sometimes, and you’re the first person in maybe years that he’s felt this way towards. so, in the hopes of bettering himself, cheol buys a self help book. he usually turns to books when he needs a break from reality, either escaping to a fantasy world to neglect the problems in his own or buying a book that will help him with his business. it’s not out of the ordinary to find him reading behind the counter when it’s slow, but he forgets that the eyes everywhere in town make it hard to keep anything a secret. 
people have noticed you suddenly stopped going to the diner, and they’ve seen cheol’s face fall every time someone other than you walks in. hoshi especially is keen to what’s going on, so during his next visit he comes in with a purpose. 
“hey hosh,” cheol greets without looking up from his book. “sit anywhere, be with you in a minute.”
“sure,” hoshi nods, taking his usual spot at the counter. he lets cheol read a second longer before asking, “whatcha got there?”
“a book, you seen one before?” cheol asks as he joins hoshi further down the bar. “what can i get you?”
“i’ve seen a book before,” hoshi replies seriously. “read one? no. and i would like your finest hamburger, please. extra ketchup.”
“not sure why i even ask anymore,” cheol chuckles, writing the ticket anyway. “you always order the same thing.”
“i like what i like,” hoshi shrugs. 
“yes you do,” cheol nods. “it’ll be out soon.”
“gives you more time to read, hm?”
“what? sure,” cheol agrees, scooting the book farther from hoshi so he can’t see what it is. 
“whatcha reading?” he asks anyway, and cheol clears his throat, ready to lie. “something about love?”
“what?” cheol whips his head up, embarrassment in his eyes. 
“there’s a big ole heart at the start of that chapter, are you reading a romance? tell me about it,” hoshi says as he rests his hands on his fists, watching cheol expectantly. 
“it’s um, it’s not about love.”
“no?”
“well, not like that,” he explains. “it’s, um...you have to swear not to repeat this.”
“what’s in it for me?”
“i’ll stop serving you,” cheol warns.
“noted, your secret is safe,” hoshi agrees. “so what is it?”
“it’s a book about relationships, mostly. teaches you how to be in love better,” cheol replies, making hoshi smile.
“and who’s the lucky lady?” he asks, causing cheol to blush.
“let me go check on your food, man.”
“whoever it is i wish you a very happy life together!”
-
you’re able to last well over a week without visiting the diner. it’s been nice not running into cheol, because you haven’t experienced that weird feeling that comes with being in his presence. what’s even weirder though is the new thing you might be feeling. you think you miss him, and you really want to apologize for being such a problem before. 
one saturday you’re up early, and you find yourself pacing back and forth outside the diner. it’s so early the diner isn’t even open yet, but you still trudge to the door and knock quietly, knowing if you don’t address it now you never will. 
you knocked softly enough you hoped cheol wouldn’t be able to hear, but before you can run away you see his broad chest through the blinds. you hear the door unlock, followed by the bell tingling as cheol opens the door. he looks you up and down then grunts, “we’re closed.”
“but i want to come in.”
“you think you’re special, city girl?” he asks with the hint of a smile. 
“i’m a paying customer, you really gonna turn me away?” you reply, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll actually tell you to leave.
“i’d never turn you away,” he says at last, stepping to the side so you can come in. “take a seat, i just made a pot of coffee.”
“it’s like you knew i was coming,” you smile before melting into a yawn. cheol watches you fondly, placing a menu at your usual seat. “i don’t need a menu.”
“what do you want?” he asks while he makes your coffee.
“um, i uh, i wanted to say i’m sorry?” you answer, awkwardly standing next to the stool. 
“you sure about that?” cheol asks as he hands you the mug. your fingers brush, and you find the confidence to look him in the eyes as you try again.
“i’m aware i can be a little hard to get along with,” you try again. “you’re really nice. and i wasn’t always appreciative of that. so i’m sorry.”
“that’s all?” 
“huh?” you ask, cheeks warming in embarrassment. “i said i’m sorry-”
“i mean, are you done with your apology?” cheol corrects himself, and you nod. “good. because it wasn’t necessary.”
“it wasn’t?”
“no,” he shakes his head. “i like that you’re a little bratty.”
“oh my god,” you roll your eyes, taking a sip of the coffee to avoid saying something ‘bratty’ in response.
“sorry,” he smiles. “i should’ve said i like you just the way you are, city girl. but thanks for smoothing things over.”
“good,” you nod. “now let me pay for the coffee.”
“nope,” cheol shakes his head. “first cup of the day is always free.”
“you’re a liar,” you accuse him.
“and you’re pretty,” he counters, and you choke on your next sip slightly. “what? you disagree?”
“just wasn’t expecting that,” you say as you wipe your face. “can i get a napkin please?” 
“you wanna order too?” he asks as he grabs a napkin for you. “want me to tuck this in your collar?”
“see, i thought we had reconciled and now here you are saying something insufferable again.”
“i’m good at that, aren’t i?” he smiles, passing you the napkin. “so are you staying for a while? you want banana pancakes?”
“please.”
you watch on as cheol finishes opening the diner, getting comfortable enough at your seat that you pull out a book and start reading while you wait for your food. you’re there long enough for other customers to start trickling in, and you’re too immersed in your book to hear the murmurs about you being there so early. what everyone assumes is that you just spent the night there, so the rumors that the diner owner finally found a special someone are traveling through town at the speed of light. you and cheol are both oblivious, so when he brings you your food before serving anyone else there’s several sets of eyes watching the exchange.
“what are you reading?” he asks, wiping off a set of utensils for you as he waits for your response. 
“ah, it’s this book my coworker recommended,” you explain, then correct yourself. “ex-coworker, i guess. keep forgetting i don’t work there anymore.”
“you wanna talk about it?” cheol asks, helping someone else at the counter without pulling his attention from you. you shake your head, and he asks a different question, “tell me about the book then.”
he listens intently as you describe the plot, mentioning that it’s supposed to be a love story and you don’t usually like those. cheol realizes this is the most he’s ever heard you talk, and he briefly thinks about how easy it would be to sit and listen to you all day. he lets you finish before he excuses himself to make rounds through the diner, and you catch your gaze following him wherever he goes. he smirks to himself when he sees you staring, and he may or may not puff out his chest a little just to give you something to look at. 
it doesn’t take you long to finish your food, and cheol keeps the coffee coming. it’s easy for you to lose track of time, and before you know it cheol is stopping in front of you with a deep sigh. you look around and notice the diner is exceptionally empty, and cheol looks exhausted.
“you ok?”
“fine,” he nods, “just a long morning.”
“what time is it?” you ask, searching for your phone.
“almost noon,” he replies, and you can feel your stomach growl. you hope cheol didn’t hear, but of course he did. “you hungry, sweet thing?”
“no, i should really go-”
“stay right there,” he says without giving you a chance to leave. he comes back with a sandwich and fries, and you start to protest when he says, “chill out, this was a pickup order no one ever came for.”
“but i don’t wanna be a bother-”
“y/n,” he says sternly, silencing you quickly. he never calls you by your name. “you’re fine. i like the company.” 
“well i’ll only keep you company if you take a break and eat with me,” you conclude, and cheol has to hide his smile as he wipes his hands off. 
“let me go grab a plate, we can share.” 
when he comes back, you take the empty plate and slide more than half of the fries onto it followed by the bigger slice of the sandwich. cheol tries to complain, reaching for your plate so you’ll end up with the fuller meal, but you push your body weight into him to keep him away.
“cute,” he hums, letting you win. “i am stronger than you, you know.”
“more reason for you to get the bigger plate,” you say as you pop a fry into your mouth. “now eat.”
“so bossy,” he shakes his head as he obeys regardless. then, with a mouthful of sandwich, he asks, “how do you like being home?”
“eh,” you shrug. “it was nice at first because it had been so long, but now i’m kind of antsy.”
“why? missing the city too much?” cheol asks, sliding a napkin to you and motioning to the edge of your mouth. he wants to wipe the mustard off for you, but he doesn’t think that would be a good idea. 
“a little,” you admit. “i miss my friends-”
“you have friends here,” cheol points out.
“i miss having things to do,” you add on. “i still don’t have a job.”
“hey, i could always use a dishwasher,” cheol teases, and you push his arm that keeps brushing against yours. “i get it though. this town’s just too small for you city girl.”
“what’s your story?” you say next, catching him off guard. to clarify, you add, “i mean, growing up you weren’t here. visiting during college i never saw you. then all of a sudden your diner is the hottest spot in town. how’d that happen?”
“you sure you never saw me before you came into the diner?” cheol asks, and you do have to think about it for a second.
“no,” you conclude, shaking your head. “i would’ve remembered your face.”
“i’ll take that as a compliment.”
“you should,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow at cheol when he looks at you surprised. “so when did you move here? how’d you start the diner?”
“my dad grew up here,” he begins. “actually, i think we went to the same university. i was talking to vernon about it and i was a couple years ahead of you, but i was there. i always dreamt of having my own business, i just didn’t know what it would look like. at first i tried setting up a cafe downtown-”
“who’s the city girl now?” you joke, and cheol pinches your arm before continuing. 
“but i failed before i even started. i lost so much money i had to move back in with my dad, and he was thinking about moving back here. so i started looking at places, and planned out the diner,” cheol says with a sweep of his hand. “honestly, i’ve always been afraid of the city. so i think it’s great that you seem to thrive so much there. takes a very special kind of person.”
“i’ll take that as a compliment,” you mimic, and cheol smiles.
“you should.”
“i can’t believe this is so new though,” you say as you look around. “it feels like it’s been here forever. you’ve done a good job making this feel like home, even if it wasn’t part of me growing up here. i come in and i just feel..”
“feel what?” cheol asks, watching you intently, slowly inching closer.
“i feel safe,” you say quietly. “being here, in this town, usually gives me so much anxiety. but i come in here and...all of that goes away.”
“that’s good to hear,” cheol smiles, tentatively reaching for your hand on the counter. he places his larger, callused hand on yours and squeezes, holding your gaze as he says, “you look comfortable here.”
“it’s because of you,” you admit, and if cheol weren’t so close he would’ve missed it. you don’t elaborate, and cheol thinks things may go further, but it’s like he watches you realize what’s going on in real time. “um, i mean, you’ve worked so hard. to make this place nice, to fit in with everything else in the town. it’s um, because of you that everyone likes this place so much.”
“uh huh,” he nods, tongue in his cheek as he watches you pull away. he would try to stop you, but a quick glance at the clock on the wall tells him it’s about to be lunch rush. he won’t be able to talk to you again for another couple hours anyway, so he lets you go, even though he desperately wants to know what would’ve happened if you’d sat there a little longer. 
“um, ok, so, thanks for the food,” you stammer out, making sure you have all of your things. “i really need to go now. you’ll need this stool soon.”
“sure,” cheol agrees, watching you rush toward the door. “hey!” he calls, and you turn with a frazzled look in your eyes. “what are you doin tomorrow?”
“um, nothing, probably,” you reply. “i’ll be here at some point for coffee.”
“ok,” cheol hums. “see you later then.”
-
the next day, a saturday, cheol’s busiest day, there’s a knock at your door around dinner time. you ended up grabbing coffee with vernon at the bakery this morning, so there was no need for a diner visit today. that’s why you’re shocked when you open the door to see a well dressed cheol with a nervous glint in his eyes. 
“hey, city girl,” he smirks. “you free for dinner?”
“am i..what?”
“you never came by the diner today,” he pouts. “so i had to make a home visit. now come on, let’s go eat.”
“um, ok, i just, let me change first?” you ask, and cheol nods. 
“i’ll be here,” he says, content to wait on your porch as you rush back inside to make yourself presentable. you go for something casual, because even though he had on a white dress shirt he was still wearing his signature baseball cap and walmart jeans. he looked incredible, but that was not what you needed to focus on right now. once you’re satisfied with your look, you sneak out the back door near your room and walk up on an unsuspecting cheol kicking rocks in your front yard. his head lifts at the sound of footsteps, and a proud smile graces his features as he says breathlessly, “you look beautiful.”
“i didn’t do anything special,” you try to downplay, but he shakes his head.
“nope, don’t do that,” he scolds. “you look beautiful. end of discussion.” 
“well thank you,” you mumble, and cheol extends his hand for you to take. you shyly lace your fingers in his, and he pulls you forward so he can wrap a hand around your waist. you let out a quiet ‘oh’ as you place your hands on his chest to steady yourself, and when you look up to find cheol staring at your lips you don’t know what else to do other than lean forward and leave a delicate kiss on his. you pull back more nervous than you were before, but cheol looks pleased.
“i was just gonna say your lip gloss was smudged,” cheol says cockily. “but that was nice too.”
“oh then let me take it back,” you joke, and cheol nods, diving back in to kiss you again. “that’s not what i meant-”
“what, you want that one back too?” he asks with a playful look in his eyes. 
“no, we’re good,” you laugh nervously as he starts leading you down the path from your house. “what are you up to?”
“i like you,” he says like it’s obvious. “so we’re on a date. we just kissed, remember? you were there.”
“i was, but, i mean, why?”
“why do i like you?” he asks, “or why did we kiss? because you started that.”
“ok, i’ll try again,” you groan. “why now? why not ask sooner?”
“i didn’t think you liked me back,” cheol replies with a shrug. “but after you spent the day mooning at me in the diner i was sure.” 
“to be fair i wasn’t sure i liked you until i started mooning at you yesterday either,” you admit. 
“i’m glad we’re here now,” cheol smiles, squeezing your hand as you see the diner in the distance. “hope it’s okay for us to eat here?”
“sure,” you shrug. “i hear it’s the best food in town.”
“wait until you’ve tried the place upstairs,” cheol says mysteriously, and you watch as he unlocks the diner and tells you to go toward the hallway that leads to his apartment.
“you closed the diner for this?” you ask, and he blushes. 
“i didn’t want anyone to bother us,” he replies shyly. “plus i didn’t want my place to smell like fries when i invite you over for the first time.”
“you know you could invest in an air freshener,” you tease, letting cheol open his apartment and lead you inside. the sight in front of you takes your breath away and quells whatever smart remark you were about to make. “cheol, oh my god.”
“is it too much?” he questions, tsking as he guides you with his hand at the small of your back. you’re silent, taking it all in, noticing the fresh flowers on the table amongst the plates of food. cheol has made what looks like homemade pasta, and you think you could cry. no one has ever done something so nice for you before, and you turn to cheol to tell him exactly that, but he looks worried. “it’s too much.”
“no, cheol, i can’t believe you did this for me,” you say in disbelief. “i love it.”
“you do?” he perks up, and you assure him everything is great. “here, take a seat,” he pulls a chair out for you and hands you your napkin before grabbing a bottle of wine. “do you like red wine?”
“no,” you shake your head, and cheol laughs. “but i’ll have some tonight.”
“tried to make everything perfect,” he sighs, pouring you a small glass that you take gratefully. “guess i’ll try harder next time.”
“next time?” you question, and cheol hums. you take a sip of the wine before adding, “next time i’ll have to cook for you.”
“i’ll hold you to that,” cheol says as he finally sits down across from you. you both laugh as you notice the flowers obstruct your view, and cheol quickly moves the vase, telling you that the flowers are yours to take home later. 
“thank you,” you say for the first time tonight. “thank you for all of this.”
“anything to make you feel more at home, city girl,” he says. “now try the pasta.”
you tentatively try a piece, noting that the freshness makes it easier to fork it. you watch cheol as you take the bite, and it’s embarrassing how quickly you melt at the taste. you let out a content sigh, verging on the kind of moan that only comes out when you eat the most delicious piece of food you’ve ever had. cheol couldn’t be happier, and you blush when you notice how closely he’s been watching you. 
“how did you learn to cook so well?” you ask with a whine. “it’s not fair.”
“not fair?” cheol laughs, and you nod as you try to get as much pasta in your mouth as possible. “don’t hurt yourself.”
“could you leave us alone please?” you ask, a spot of pasta sauce on your chin. unlike yesterday at the diner, cheol doesn’t back down from reaching across the table to swipe the spot away with his thumb. before he can stop himself he licks it off, meeting your eyes shyly. 
“sorry,” he clears his throat, finally picking up his own fork. 
“you never answered my question,” you try and change the subject. “you study in italy or something?”
“yeah, actually,” cheol replies. when he sees how confused you look he smiles before explaining, “i had a study abroad in italy. it was before i knew i wanted my own cafe or diner or anything, but one of the excursions for the trip was a pasta making class. guess it stuck.”
“okay now i’m jealous,” you tell him. “of you, for going to italy. but then of anybody else who’s ever had your pasta. this is incredible.”
“you’re the only one,” cheol says nonchalantly. 
“why are you so nice to me?” you ask softly, and cheol reaches for your hand across the table. he absentmindedly rubs his thumb over your knuckles as he explains.
“because i like you?” he chuckles. “i already told you that.”
“yeah, but why?” you ask, leaning closer. “why me?”
“i could ask you the same thing,” he replies, but the way you’re staring at him pushes him to answer. “you remember when you came into the diner a couple weeks ago?” you nod, and he continues. “you remember how you were a little rude?”
“if i was rude it was only because you started it,” you grumble, and cheol laughs.
“that’s why i like you,” he says, “you were the first person to take my attitude and give it right back to me.”
“well i’m glad you finally met your match,” you tease. “now can i have my hand back? i want some of that garlic bread.”
“yes ma’am,” he lets go with a final squeeze. he hands you the basket before reaching for the wine, asking, “do you want some more?”
“honestly? no,” you shake your head. “i’m fine with water.”
“i’d offer you something else, but all i have is wine, beer, and a ginger ale that’s been open for two weeks,” cheol tells you. 
“actually i’ll take a beer,” you say, and cheol stares at you with a new look in his eyes. “what, weirdo?”
“careful, you might make me say the l word.”
“lasagna?” you joke, and he rolls his eyes as he gets you a beer. he gets one for himself, and you cheers once he’s sitting back down. he watches you take a sip, admiring the way your lips wrap around the bottle, and then you both go back to eating. talking to cheol is easy, you notice. this is a first date but it doesn’t feel like it, and as the night goes on you get this feeling of dread in your gut that you’ll have to leave at some point. 
“why do you keep looking at the clock?” cheol asks nervously, a smile on his lips to hide the fact that he’s worried you’re bored or ready to go. “you need to leave?”
“no, no, the opposite,” you assure him. “you fed me the best meal of my life, i’ve now had a glass of wine and two beers, so i’m getting tired..but i don’t think i could leave even if i wanted to.”
“you full?” he asks, standing to clear the table. “because i made dessert too.”
“are you gonna force me to eat cherry pie again?” you ask as you try to help him clean. everything you pick up he just takes from your hands, so instead you grab the empty beer bottles and search for his recycling. 
“no, but i made a tiramisu-”
“you made tiramisu?!” you ask, whirling around to see a confused cheol. he nods like it’s nothing, and you groan as you say, “i didn’t think the man of my dreams existed, and yet here you are.”
“i’m the man of your dreams?” he asks, the confusion gone as he sidles up to you to wrap his hands around your waist. “this is great news.”
“hm, suddenly i need to go,” you say as you try to step back, but cheol’s grip tightens and you think you hear the slightest growl come from deep within his chest.
“no.”
“no?”
“no,” cheol confirms, thumbs slipping under your shirt to rub circles onto your skin. “you have to at least try the tiramisu before you go.”
“what if it makes me want to stay even longer?” you ask, and cheol leans in to give you a delicate kiss. without pulling far from your lips, he whispers, “then you stay longer.”
you let your eyes linger on his for a moment before you connect your lips again, your hands moving from their awkward spot on his chest to wrap tightly around his neck. one hand steadies you, and the other tangles into the hair at the nape of his neck that just peeks out from beneath the cap on his head. you groan into his mouth and he can tell it’s a sound of frustration, so cheol pulls back to ask what’s wrong.
“do you ever take your hat off?” you ask him. 
“what?”
“take it off,” you command, and you wait for cheol to loosen his grip on you to reach up and remove his hat. you keep watching as he ruffles his hair, letting down the curls you knew were hiding beneath. “do you keep those hidden from the world because you know it makes you hotter?”
“no, i work in food service, keeps my hair out of people’s lunch,” he says, pulling a shy smile from you. 
“forget i called you hot then.”
“never,” he replies, leaning back down to kiss you. he pulls one of your hands from his neck and places it on his full head of curls, which you take as a sign to play with and tug at his hair as much as you please. cheol deepens the kiss, his tongue darting out to meet yours, and you unintentionally pull his hair harder. he moans into your mouth and you feel yourself shiver, but you pull back for some reason. cheol really growls this time, asking in a low voice, “where ya goin, sweet thing?”
“mind your business,” you scoff as you kneel in front of him, your hands finding the waistband of his jeans. you look up at him and ask, “is this okay?”
“more than okay,” he groans, hands lacing through your hair now. he watches on with hooded eyes as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down just below his ass, slowly tracing over the bulge in his boxers next. you’re mesmerized by the size of it and you’re still not face to face with his cock, and cheol calling your name pulls your attention back in. “having fun?”
“sh,” you hush him, tracing his outline one more time before pulling at his waistband to let it snap against his skin. he hisses and the grip on your hair tightens, his breath quickening above you.
“baby, you’re killing me,” he whispers, so you glare at him as you pull his boxers down, almost getting hit by his boner when it’s finally set free. you’re quick to grab his shaft, spitting on the tip as you hold eye contact with cheol. he lets out a shaky breath, and he tries to burn this moment into the back of his eyelids so he never forgets the way you look on your knees ready to swallow his cock. you pump him a few times, licking at his tip while you hype yourself up to take him into your mouth. 
“you know, i think i’m getting tired,” you tease, trying to push cheol’s buttons. “think i might just head out.”
“you talk a lot,” cheol mumbles. “i’ve got something that could shut you up.”
“oh, you mean this?” you ask, picking up the pace of your hand stroking him until you think he can’t take it anymore. “what if i don’t want to?”
“then i won’t return the favor,” cheol challenges you. he watches, pleased, as you roll your eyes but still lean forward to wrap your lips around his tip anyway. he keeps watching as you inch further down his cock, taking him like it’s nothing. he doesn’t have to worry that he won’t fit, because you keep going until your nose is pressed against his skin. you surprise him by swallowing around him once, then twice, and he uses the grip on your hair to pull you off completely. “shit, baby, you really are trying to kill me.”
“excuse me, i’m doing some of my best work down here,” you say as you wipe the saliva off your chin. “now shut up and let me suck your cock.”
cheol lets you get back to work, but he doesn’t stay quiet. he lets himself moan freely, groaning as he tries to get you closer to him than you already are. every time you swallow around him he cries out, and you can feel yourself getting wetter. you can tell he’s trying to let you lead, his hold on the back of your head strong but reserved. he bucks his hips slightly each time you pull back and suck on his tip, but you want more. you hollow your cheeks and pick up your pace, tears stinging at your eyes as you gag around his cock. cheol has been talking you through it too, telling you how good you’re doing, how sexy you look, how good you’re making him feel. you would be embarrassed at how cock drunk you are right now, tears in your eyes and spit dribbling past your lips, but you’re addicted to the weight of cheol on your tongue and the way his strong hands tug on your hair. you have to pull back to catch your breath, a string of spit connecting your lips to his tip. as you sit back on your calves, cheol takes his cock in his hand, swiping at the spit before smearing it over his tip. he strokes himself lazily as he lets you catch your breath, and when you try to knock his hand out of the way he doesn’t let you get back to work.
“move,” you say sternly. “i’m almost done.”
“yeah, so am i,” cheol laughs. “you’re gonna make me come, city girl.”
“good,” you say proudly, “let me taste it.”
“you’re evil,” he groans, guiding his tip back to you awaiting mouth. he sighs happily when you swallow around him again, and he tentatively thrusts forward to test the waters. when you catch his eye and nod, he knows it’s okay to try again, picking up the pace so he can fuck your mouth. he’s close, and if you wanted a taste that’s what he’ll give you. “i’m about to come baby, you ready?” you moan around him and the vibration sends him over the edge, his release shooting down your throat. it’s sinful the way your eyes roll back as you swallow around him, and cheol thinks in that moment you are the most perfect woman to ever exist. he helps you carefully pull yourself off his cock, and he shudders when the cold air hits him. “you okay, beautiful?”
“all good,” you nod, voice a little hoarse. “i’m tired though.”
“too tired for me to eat you out?”
“in the morning maybe?” you ask, yawning.
“yeah?” cheol asks as he helps you up, and you nod. “you wanna stay the night?”
“can i?” you ask, realizing you didn’t know if he wanted you there or not. “i mean, is that alright?”
“yeah, of course,” cheol says quickly. “i’ll get you some clothes. and water. and a toothbrush.”
“you’re too sweet,” you say shyly, taking the flannel and boxers that he offers you. he leads you to the bathroom where he finds a clean toothbrush, and he disappears while you change so he can get you a glass of water. when he returns he finds you snooping in his medicine cabinet, his lotion on your hands and his fancy floss wrapped around your fingers. “oops?”
“no, make yourself at home,” cheol laughs, handing you the cool glass. “what’s mine is yours.”
“i’m sorry, i got too comfortable,” you say. “sorry. thanks for the water.”
“thanks for the head,” cheol smirks, and you push him slightly as you easily finish the glass. “you want more?”
“no, i’d have to get up in the middle of the night to pee,” you complain. “can i, um, do you mind? if i go to bed?”
“please, baby, you don’t have to ask,” he says, carefully leading you to his room. “i’m gonna wash up, be back in a minute.”
you carefully pull down the blankets on his bed, simultaneously feeling at home yet nervous. you feel comfortable around cheol, sure, but this still feels like a lot all at once. cheol walks in on you contemplating this dilemma that’s only in your head, and he asks with a smirk, “you gonna stare at the bed all night or you gonna get in?”
“sorry,” you mumble, scampering to get under the covers. 
“stop apologizing,” he says as he walks to the other side of the bed. “you look cute in my clothes by the way.”
“you look cute without your hat on,” you counter, and you’re proud to see a slight blush on his cheeks as he lays down next to you, mimicking your posture. he lays facing you with an arm under the pillow, and you suddenly feel overwhelmed. “cheol?”
“yeah?”
“is this too much?”
“what?” he asks, the happy look in his eyes faltering slightly. 
“me spending the night. it’s our first date,” you whisper, suddenly afraid that speaking too loud will make your worries bigger. 
“i don’t mind,” cheol says, pulling for your free hand beneath the covers. “i am very happy to have you here.”
“i’m happy to be here,” you say quietly, and cheol looks at you with an appraising look. 
“you sure about that?”
“i am,” you assure him. “i had an amazing night. i’m glad i could do something nice for you after all that you’ve done for me. but...i’m scared.”
“scared? why?”
“i like you,” you whisper. “i like you a lot. but i’m afraid of what the town will say. i’m afraid i like you too much, and i’m afraid of leaving.”
“then don’t leave,” he says simply. “and who cares what the town thinks?”
“no, like what if i get another job? what if i have to leave?” you ask, and cheol thinks for a moment before he pulls you closer, burying your head in his chest. he kisses the top of your head and whispers against your forehead, “then we’ll talk about it. for now just go to sleep.”
-
you wake up early the next morning, light trickling in through the curtains of cheol’s room. you feel more rested than you’ve been in months, maybe years. cheol is still wrapped around you from the night before, and you chuckle when you see how his lips stay pouted as he snores slightly. you watch him a little longer, pushing a stray curl out of his face, and he softly wakes up. he sees you staring down at him and he smiles, taking your hand and kissing your palm before laying it back on his cheek. 
“morning, sweet thing.”
“morning, handsome.”
“how long have you been up?” he yawns.
“not long.”
“you been staring at me the whole time?”
“mind your business.”
“you hungry?”
“starved,” you reply, sitting up to stretch. “and i need coffee. bad.”
“good stuff’s downstairs,” cheol mumbles, nuzzling back into his pillow. you’re about to ask where when you look down and see he’s back asleep, so you lean down to kiss his cheek before getting up. you slide on some slippers, shuffling downstairs to the diner to make coffee. you forget to check the time though, because the quiet doesn’t necessarily mean that the diner is closed. when you appear in the doorway, obviously clad in cheol’s clothes, and the ten or so customers in the diner turn to stare at you, your heart drops as you scurry back up to cheol’s apartment. you find him in the kitchen scratching his ass, and he turns to say, “where the hell did you go?”
“you said the coffee was downstairs!” you half scream, and realization dawns on him. he’s shocked for a moment, then tries not to laugh.
“how many people saw your walk of shame?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk.
“enough,” you groan as you fling yourself into his arms. “so i’m sure everyone will know by the end of the day, and it won’t just be our business, and if i ever do leave then everyone will blame me for us breaking up, and-”
“whoa, whoa, slow down,” cheol backtracks, holding you at arms length. “you’re freaking out over nothing.”
“but-”
“no! enjoy this!” cheol says, kissing you on both cheeks. “enjoy this for as long as you can, even if you have to leave. but like i said last night, we’ll talk about that if we get there. i just want to date you and see how much fun that can be. it’s nobody’s business but our own.”
“but everyone downstairs saw me in your clothes,” you whine.
“then they’ll know how nice your legs are.”
“i’m being serious,” you push him. “it was embarrassing.”
“would coffee and tiramisu make it better?”
“throw in some banana pancakes and i might just forget it ever happened.”
“deal.”
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Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! 😭♥️
Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)
im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.
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Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?
The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.
Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.
You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.
"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.
"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."
His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.
Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,
"But that will not be bloody true for long."
As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.
"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"
There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.
Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.
He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.
The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.
"Fuck, you're warm..."
He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.
"Wet for me. So wet. How?"
Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.
"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."
When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.
"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."
You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?
"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."
He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.
"John..."
You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,
"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."
He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.
"You're gonna make me come, John."
Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,
"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."
Your body listened before you could even register his words.
From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...
"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.
Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.
"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."
"It's okay, John..."
"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."
"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.
You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,
"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."
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Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!
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psychwxrdd · 2 months
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more soft rafe pls 🥺
i just wanted to hear the sound of your voice ♡₊˚ . ☆
﹗ ໒꒱۪ ₊˚﹒✦₊
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୨ৎ summary: rafe's in love for the first time in his life!
୨ৎ pairing: soft rafe x reader
୨ৎ warnings: none, fluff
🎀 note: i wrote this listening to what is love by twice ok
"Hi, you're Rafe, right?" The girl asked, her soft and friendly tone making Cameron raise an eyebrow. Generally, people feared him, they didn't treat him... like that. Speak to him in that tone, like he was someone they wanted to be friends with. "My friends asked me to tell you they're about to beat the shit out of you"
Rafe looked at the girl without knowing what to say. She said it so naturally that it didn't even seemed ironic or conscious, and it took Rafe by surprise.
"Who are your friends?"
"JJ and Pope"
Rafe pushed his cap back and flicked his cheek with his tongue. He was about to answer but she didn't gave him time.
"I liked your ring"
"Sorry?"
"This ring of yours, right here" she pointed to the gold ring. "It's beautiful, where did you buy it?"
He stared at the girl's face for a few seconds with his mouth open and his brows slightly furrowed.
"It-t's uh... It's from my family"
"Well, it's really beautiful, it suits you"
"Thank you..." He let out a light chuckle. Who was this little doll?
"Hey, you again" Rafe approached the girl on the beach. There was a party going on there, at night, and he recognized her from afar. That sweet smile got stuck with him.
"Hey, Rafe!" She replied, smiling widely. Her smile made Rafe smile too, unconsciously.
"You didn't told me your name that day."
"I'm Y/n" She spoke softly. A pretty name for a pretty princess, he thought.
"Nice to meet you, Y/n. Can I buy you a drink?"
"I don't like alcohol, but thank you very much!"
"Yeah?" He was curious "What do you like then?"
"Buy me a soda"
Rafe smiled, putting his arm around her shoulders.
Rafe and Y/n became inseparable after those brief meetings. Rafe wanted more from her, he wanted her presence, he wanted her every day, even if it was just for a small talk, she had something about her that made his heart warm and race every time. That night, he had asked her to go out with him on the family yacht. The breeze brushed against the girl's skin and made her shiver, Rafe noticed.
"Here, wear my coat" he said, taking it off his body.
"No need, thank you... It feels good like this"
"You're going to catch a cold"
She laughed, still refusing, but too focused on the sea to stop him. He placed it gently around her shoulders.
"What do you think that it's hidden down there?" She pointed to the sea. "Like, we only know 10% of the ocean, the rest has never been mapped"
He looked at her face, mesmerized by her features... her eyes reflected the waves. He wished he could stare at them forever, they were so full of life.
"Probably many dead bodies who went missing"
"Oh my God, Rafe" she pushed him lightly. He laughed genuinely.
"What do you think is there, little doll?"
"Magic."
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"Yeah?"
"Mermaids, I really want to believe that they exist. People are generally afraid of the unknown, but I like to believe that it's only something too good for us to see. Something magical, like that legend about the treasure at the end of the rainbow."
"You know..." He breathed softly, "Who's to say you're not right, huh?"
She looked at him fondly.
"Are there sharks here in this region?"
"Why? Do you want to swim?"
She didn't even needed to say anything, the look on her face said it all. Rafe felt excited. God, ever since he met her he felt constantly excited, and he hadn't remembered feeling that way in years. Probably since he stopped being a child.
They swam and had fun for hours, Rafe felt so young, despite obviously being a young man, he was so full of responsabilities and darkness, usually always feeling like he lived a whole life. But he felt free like he hadn't in a long time. That same night, Rafe dropped her off at home and as soon as she got out of the car, his heart sank. What was that?
She hadn't even got inside her home yet, but Rafe already missed her terribly. He wanted to run to her and hold her in his arms, again, forever. God, was he sick?
He had never felt this feeling, he even thought he was going to vomit or that he had a fever, that he was going to faint. He pulled out his phone, immediately searching for Y/n's number.
"Rafe?" she asked, laughing softly. "I haven't even gotten to my room yet"
"I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice" He said without even thinking, practically letting his heart speak. What kind of gay shit was that? I just wanted to hear the sound of your voice. Jesus Christ, he sighed, embarassed.
"I miss you too"
She said, and his heart raced so much that he smiled, feeling butterflies in his stomach. He was happy, very happy. Not even coke got him like this.
"Come back here, I'm still in front of your house. Let's spend tonight together."
And forever too, he thought, but he managed to control that inside his mouth.
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scuderiasundays · 8 months
Text
better together
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summary: airline lounges, box box widgets, and a cheesy greeting card 💌
words: 1,045
a/n: the romcom girlie in me has always wanted to write a meet-cute and i've been listening to too much lizzy mcalpine! tagging @vamossainz55, @sainzcaleruega, @monzabee, @ssainzz, @diorleclerc, and @userlando just because. let me know if you'd want a part two! hugs and kisses 🫶🏼
Love comes when you least expect it. Those same old words had fallen from the lips of every person you knew, so much so that they now felt weightless. On this particular evening, you found yourself at your best friend’s wedding reception, zoning out at the open bar. You nodded along as some man who’d had one too many G&T’s rambled on about his meet-cute on the Paris metro. Seeing two people you adored make a lifelong commitment only reaffirmed the fact that you craved the same.
It was no secret you weren’t exactly the MVP of the single scene. On any given night out, you’d leave the club before midnight to get a full eight-hour snooze. Dating apps were a no-no, as reruns of Catfish had made you skeptical about “finding the one” online. At work, you kept a low profile, socializing just enough to have a tight circle of work friends. It was as if you were coasting on autopilot, wanting love but hesitant to steer towards it.
Not to say that being single was all bad. Every hard-earned dollar was invested right back into the things you loved: trips, clothes, and your dog Cannoli. You silently weighed the pros and cons of your lifestyle as you stepped into the airline lounge.
Setting down your latest read to save your seat, you made your way to the breakfast buffet and grabbed a plate of avocado toast, poached eggs, and a glass of orange juice. On your way back, you spotted someone in a hoodie and cap making themselves at home in the armchair opposite yours.
The whole lounge was virtually empty, and this just had to be his seat of choice? You slowly approached from behind and let out a quiet gasp as you noticed them flipping through your book. “Love languages, huh?” The man pointed at the cover and smiled.
Your pupils dilated twice their size as you registered just who it was. The fan-made bracelets, the Leica, and, most of all, the signature McLaren cap—it all fell into place. “My manager and I just got into a huge argument, and honestly, I’d rather be anywhere but with him right now. Do you mind if I-" He gestured towards the seat beside you, his eyes radiating a silent plea.
“No problem. Let me give you your space,” you responded, hastily gathering your things. Just as you were about to step away, his hand gently clasped your wrist. “I could use the company. I’m Bob, by the way,” he mumbled, oblivious to the fact that his cover was blown.
As in, you knew he was currently seventh place in the driver’s championship and slowly but surely climbing up the standings. The last thing he needed was for you to bring any of that up, so you did as he said, trying to give him a sense of normalcy he so deserved.
He headed to the breakfast buffet and returned with the very items you had selected. "Copying me?" you teased. “First step in getting to know you,” he grinned. Curious about your life, he asked about your job in the emergency room. You told him the hours were grueling but watching extremely sick patients leave healthy made it all worthwhile. "Hope I never end up being your patient," he joked.
His interest didn't stop there; he inquired about siblings (only child), your dream vacation destination (Antibes), and whether you were a dog or cat person (not even a question). You, being a proud dog mom, wanted to show your furry guy off and handed Lando your phone.
As he squinted at your phone, you heard him say, "7 days to go. United States Grand Prix." A wave of panic washed over you as you remembered the Box Box widget that also occupied your screen. The silence was deafening as you wished the ground would swallow you up. 
“Let me see the app,” He said. You normally wouldn’t have acquiesced so quickly, but you crumbled and unlocked your phone. He appeared to scroll and click a few things before he handed it back. “Widget Preferences. Constructor: McLaren? Driver: Lando Norris?” You asked as you noticed he’d made some selections.
“You hadn’t bothered with the preferences, so I took the liberty of choosing.” He blushed as the awkwardness of it all hung in the air. “That doesn’t feel fair. I’ve had all this time to get to know you, and I can’t say the same for the other drivers.” You teasingly retorted.
“I'll let the guys know they're in a tight race for your heart." He snickered. The man was on the verge of tears when his manager came by to remind him of his impending flight. “Flight’s in an hour, Lando,” snapped him right back to reality.
He entrusted you with his bags as he ran out to run a quick pre-flight errand. You couldn’t help but squeal the second Lando had vanished from view. What kind of magic was in the air at this airport and could it be bottled?
You tapped through your best friend’s Instagram stories as you awaited his return. The nearly empty lounge echoed as Lando asked a nearby gentleman for a pen and jotted something down. Breathless, he handed you a card, urging you to read it later.
"Your shoelace is untied," he mentioned, and as he bent down to tie it, his blue-green eyes met yours. 
The British racing driver left your life in the abrupt way he had entered it. You took in the card, decked out with drawings of mac and cheese, milk and cereal, and avocado and toast, captioned "Better Together" at the bottom.
It was the only card in the store, but it felt just right. You highlighted “words of affirmation” as your love language, so I thought I’d give this a go. Thanks for keeping me company. Talk soon? - LN 
His number was scribbled at the end. You quickly changed your lock screen widget to showcase his stats and took a screenshot to send his way.
New look. I might be biased, but I think you just became my favorite driver. Let's see if you can keep it up.
He replied right away.
I like the sound of that. When can I see you again?
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