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dropsofletters · 1 year

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how to unsubscribe to dating

SUMMARY: on april 18th, hansol likes his favorite youtuber’s instagram picture. not because of her content—though, he finds himself laughing at all of her weekly videos—but because he thinks she’s gorgeous. that is how it ends. just a like on a picture that no one will see.

three years later and after a tough break-up, the internet hates her and a misstep has hansol dragged into the drama. now, everyone thinks they are dating and what a better way to gain subscribers and have millions on views on their videos? just let them think it’s real and work on a whole season of dare videos for the world to enjoy.

only that it is not so easy, one can subscribe to a youtube channel but not really unsubscribe to falling in love.

TITLE: how to unsubscribe to dating.

PAIRING: chwe hansol x reader

GENRE: youtuber!au ; fake dating-ish!au ; youtube drama!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; idiots in love!au

WORD COUNT: 14,014 words

GENRE: fluff ; humor ; drama ; angst if you squint ; suggestive

NOTE: this was a kofi request! if you want me to write anything, you can go over there and request something from me.

The secret to color theory is that there are primary colors, and the rest are just blend-able shades that would not exist without bases, foundations and ‘trials-and-errors’. In some sense, we correlate the color of our lives to that primary stance—we are red, we are yellow…the intensity that we want to be. How we want to counterpart in a main role that, inherently, sometimes won’t be settled upon us. The saddening truth of being a purple, or a lime green.

She would have never imagined herself to be anything more than a yellow. She said, when she was younger, that her voice would be so high that the annoying tone that came with her made her stand out in any crowd. Yellow. And then came heartbreak, teenage years, the blending with a pure gray or a black undertone that could never get her to darken her soul. It was more like a mustard yellow. Lulled. Not as bright. Just wishing upon standing out again, blending nicely with everyone, but always sticking out like a sore thumb. Hard to look in the eyes.

For the past two months, she felt like she was back to her bright yellow. To smiles with all teeth, shared with Jay as he wrapped his arms around her shoulder; to late-night talks with the phone screen glaring across her vision as she whispered small ‘I don’t want to go’s. Relatively, that comes to a stop. Because, in the eyes of a man that she dated with the dumbfounded hope to finally meet the love of her life, she was never yellow. God, he’d cringe at the mere sound of the Coldplay song. She was brown.

As in shitty brown.

Jay should be better than this. In actuality, after how everything fell down with a break-up text that he never really responded to, she doesn’t think he’s better, but hey, common sense is a thing still, isn’t it? As a YouTuber, quite like her, who shared the same interests and niche with a commentary channel based on pop-culture, one would think that he would not incorporate their ‘not-that-talked-about’ relationship in a Tweet. Though, maybe she had seen him as a bright blue, when he’s nothing but—at best—a plum or a dark gray.

You know, like having concrete between your teeth. Not that pleasurable, neither something she wants to try again.

@notthatjay_lee: how does that song go? a, b, c, d, e, f…thank you for wasting my motherfucking time.

She chuckles. Actually, full-on laughs when sitting on the counter at her kitchen, trying or supposedly about to edit her newest video commenting on Disney’s old shows and how she binge-watched them on a brim. Not that the viewers should know that she watched the entirety of Hannah Montana in a week because she was going through a break-up and crying for the asshole that Jay Lee is, but she needed to update after being a month away.

She continues scrolling, watching the thread that has formed in the tweet and the hundreds of comments that tag her. They weren’t precisely out as a relationship, but it was known. They went to conventions together, appeared in pictures with fans tagged together. It wasn’t hidden under the rug, but it was also not blasted out of proportion like Jay is doing right now.

He responded to a fan.

@jaysassissick: We are here for you, Jay! I can’t believe what some bitches can do for fame.

@notthatjay_lee: imagine getting cheated on by someone who can’t even reach a million subscribers. lol. can sadly relate.

“You just didn’t…” She mutters to herself, standing up and closing her laptop with a bang. More notifications pop up, from all social media that she could muster. Pictures tagged of the two of them together coming up with headlines that read commentary-channel YouTubers feuding. Cheating. Cheater, out of all things.

And that’s the thing about women. If they are not colors that blend well with the primary ones, like men expect to be, they are tarnished and burned to ashes to stay in the ground. That was her case, in which her silence was the ignition of a chain of events that now are out of her reach. None of those people that keep harassing her online can know that Jay had been distant the past month; that he’d spend more of his days running away from her than actually trying to put effort into the relationship.

That it’d be more looking through social media to see him commenting on pictures of his supposed ‘friends’ wearing bikinis and his phone hidden with his face down whenever they were together. It was not confirmed, of course, she didn’t have enough proximity with him, neither did they live together for her to confirm that her suppositions were true, but something she knows. Jay is not a saint, neither is she for the rage that builds within her like a Lego house that burns with the unsatiable need of revenge.

She almost believes that the best way to go about this is making it as public as he is. However, she knows she’s better. Yellow, bright, shining, as she has always been, just shadowed by someone who was envious of how burning her colors could be. Hence, she puts her phone down after turning it off, quite like he did whenever a fight ensued between the two and he would play the victim card with a pout to his lips. She thinks about it—the video she is supposed to edit, the pictures on her phone she has yet to delete and the revival, that word that speaks about new beginnings and definitely, a smirk that tells the past that she’s doing much better.

For now, she’s just alone in her apartment. With a bowl of noodles that has gone cold and a heart that is palpitating far too fast, for heartbreak isn’t easy, much less when it’s this open, but she can think of ways of getting back to Jay, whether the public knows it’s directly thrown his way or not.

She owes this man nothing.

“Jeonghan, I need you recording my shit. Not looking at your phone.”

With a hand quipping closed as if asking for Hansol’s lips to remain shut, Jeonghan remains as relaxed as he had been when they started recording this weekly’s recap. Though, while Hansol had been stumbling over his lines—as per usual on a Saturday morning, that’s the only time they could meet up because Seungcheol was going on a trip this weekend for his cousin’s wedding—, Jeonghan had frankly lost his mind to whatever is showcased in his phone. So far in the text he’s reading, which Hansol is certain is not a book, that he leaned back on one of the love seats in Hansol’s office, propped his knees to his chest in fetal position and lurked through whatever caught his interest like a lion looking for his prey.

“The moment you can get a word out without stuttering is the moment we start recording.” Jeonghan runs a hand through his black hair, covering the rudeness of his words with a soft smile. Hansol knows better than to take Jeonghan’s words close to heart, but still.

“I just needed some more coffee.”

Seungcheol enters the room then, with a new Starbucks drink since Hansol decided to steal his. “You drank my macchiato.” With a slap on the back of Hansol’s head, the man takes a seat on the other empty love-seat, as if there is not a whole video to be recorded and posted on Monday. “But Hansol’s not wrong. I have to get on that plane at four and it’s nine in the morning. We can get through this video if we just start recording it.”

Jeonghan doesn’t respond and Hansol takes this time to sigh deeply and toss his head back. Things were easier when posting a YouTube video wasn’t so…meticulous. At the beginning, just over eight years ago, Hansol had posted a video on social media that had gotten quite visibly viral. He had over a million views in just fourteen hours, breaking records somehow, making it to meme accounts and Vine compilations. Stupid as it could get, it was a video of Hansol wearing a swimming hat and those aesthetic sunglasses that resembled John Lennon’s style, with Jeonghan zooming in on the frame and him saying: ‘bitch’ before the video came to an end.

It had literally no context, but he made a living out of it.

That’s how he launched his career, changed the name and created an online persona. He called himself Zach, sporting bright and quite frankly unfitting outfits and making meme weekly recaps. He spoke about what was new on the Internet, made fun of some videos, never quite made it to the commentary channel spectrum but became a voice that over ten million people had subscribed to. No one knew that his real name was Hansol, or that he wasn’t as outspoken as he was in his videos. Never an opinion that breaks or makes a room.

Jeonghan grabs the coffee mug from Seungcheol’s hold, ignoring the man’s complaints to take a sip. “I think I have a topic we need to add to this week’s review.” He finally pulls away from his original position, biting down on his lip like he does when he has an idea that he can’t keep on the depths of his chest. “Have you heard about the newest drama with Jay Lee?”

Hansol crosses his arms across his chest, sitting on the edge of the desk that holds his computer, always in front of him in his videos. “Jay…Lee? Doesn’t ring a bell for me.”

“You know, the TikTok guy who makes POV’s videos.” Jeonghan urges on, tossing a glance towards Seungcheol who finally snatches his drink before giving a curt nod.

“Even I remember who he is.”

“How many guys don’t make ridiculous videos on TikTok?” Hansol prompts, only to have Jeonghan sighing.

“He was known on YouTube for his music videos and parodies. You know how that went a little bit downhill lately, so his niche has changed. Makes videos every once in a while.” Jeonghan includes in his narrative, turning his phone around to show a picture of a man he now recognizes. Damn, even in his beginnings as a YouTuber, Jay Lee already had a bunch of people under his name. With long, tossed back black hair, tattoos that scatter across a slim, tall body and a pair of glasses that always rest on the brim of his straight nose. He was of interest for a bunch of people on the Internet, even to this day.

“What about him?” Hansol questions, only to have Jeonghan clapping his hands once.

“He’s burning the Internet with his latest allegations. He was dating a commentary channel YouTuber, though they never accepted it, but he’s making the allegations that she cheated on him and has announced that he’s releasing a diss track to explain everything.” He’ll never understand how the world revolves around drama, but Jeonghan gives more explanation by saying her name and giving him the phone once again.

The picture shows a couple together with a fan, and he recognizes her with far more ease. He remembers last summer, when he would spend most of his afternoons laughing about her videos with the graphics she made. Very rarely does her face show on her videos, but she draws a little character that speaks, through her commentary, about the topic at hand. Always a show. A video. A meme. Hell, he thinks that she once talked about him on a video years ago.

Jay is much taller than her, with his arm wrapped around her shoulder, squishing their cheeks together as they hold peace signs, her hand interlocked with the young fan’s. They didn’t look necessarily in love, but close enough to it. Like the beginning of a love that had just started to flourish.

“What has he said?” Seungcheol questions, now interested in the topic.

“What hasn’t he said? He has spent the past three days creating a YouTube war. He has even dropped her name a few times, tagging her, asking her to be upfront because she has escaped the internet. MIA and all.”

Hansol can’t imagine how tough it is to go through a break-up where the other person is trying to plot everyone against her. Sure, he’s not certain if she cheated, but he takes his own phone to look through Twitter, seeing him post pictures of the two of them together—clearly personal, never seen by anyone but them—, adding thread after thread of how in love he was with her and how badly she broke his heart. It seemed like he was bleeding through a wound that was never quite as open as he made it out to be.

“What an asshole.” He mutters, getting closer to the computer and writing something down on his script. “I think we can add it to this week’s episode. The last bit. Just for a few clicks and because…he’s really getting out of control.”

“And everyone is supporting him.” Jeonghan adds, shrugging his shoulders. “Would be nice to give an opinion that isn’t sided one way or the other.”

“…That’s putting Hansol against a man that has just about the same following as him. Including him in the war isn’t going to do the channel any good.”

Hansol looks up at that moment, raising his eyebrows and weighting the options. Seungcheol isn’t wrong, but he knows this is a topic that needs to be talked about. Break ups on the internet. Where some people post videos crying and hugging for the last time, while others take their following to side with them as if it was a parent going through divorce.

“Yes, but this whole Zach character is about that. Speaking about what I think is wrong, right or funny…and these tweets? Stupid, borderline funny, over-line worrying.”

Seungcheol takes a sip of his macchiato, bringing a shoulder up in nonchalance. “I’ll have to take care of the mess after, but if that’s what’s going to bring the views, go for it.”

Is he really doing it for views, though? Or maybe, he just thinks it’s inherently wrong to destroy someone’s career that way, until they are too afraid to go on the internet because of hate. Jay Lee will have to learn a lesson about being made fun of.

@notthatjay_lee: glad to know the mystery’s resolved. @chwethatzach you’ve cleared the rumors up. song coming in three days!

Hyeji had said it seven months ago when she started liking Jay, as she flipped on tarot decks, spread them neatly on the coffee table between them, speaking through a cloud caused by the blunt between her lips. Jay Lee’s an imbecile, he’ll break your heart. She didn’t listen, because in her mind all men go through a phase of being overly-confident and, quite frankly, assholes. She opted to believe that Jay was willing to change and talk, venturing into a friendship and then, into whatever kind of relationship they had held that now is a complete disaster.

Her best friend, Moon Hyeji, runs her fingers through her dirty hair after showing her the tweet that Jay had just posted. Tagging her after, nonetheless. Hyeji, as wild as she is, with long locks of wavy hair and a rose tattoo on the column of her neck, had called Jay just a day ago, telling him to back off before she took legal actions. Taking it from the woman who is the daughter of one of the richest men in the country, a businessman nonetheless, Jay should have taken it a little bit more seriously. Hence, he doesn’t.

“What the fuck do I even have to do with that dude?” She questions, finally standing up from her position on Hyeji’s lap. Ever since this issue went to absolute hell, with the diss track incoming and a handful of people making drama videos about the timeline of their very short-lived relationship, Hyeji had travelled all the way from London to get here and eat piles of ice cream while bad-mouthing Jay. Only that it didn’t help her the slightest.

She wants to talk, but she doesn’t know how to go on about the issue. Fueling the problem even more if just going to have his fans speaking with more fervor, and just like how he doesn’t have proof of her cheating, she also doesn’t have anything to defend herself with about not cheating.

“There’s a video, apparently…” Hyeji roams through her phone with long nails before she displays her screen on the TV in front of them. The image that loads is of the start of a video of someone she knows somewhat well, for she really likes Zach Chwe’s videos, or at least, she can catch up on them every once in a while.

Zach has always been a little different than most. He feels like a true friend that one can talk with as he launches in that green chair of his, always wearing clothes that leave everything to the imagination and would have everyone talking about him. He’s wearing a tie-dye hoodie, as per usual in some of his videos, with an apron on top of it that reads ‘the chef’s dead’ and a pair of sunglasses that rest on top of his brown hair. His soft eyebrows move with each of his words, firstly greeting his audience, then speaking about the newest memes found on the internet.

“He must have spoken about your issue with Jay.”

“How so? He never talks about drama.” She asks, getting a look from Hyeji who clears her throat soon after.

“People believe he’s the one guy Jay is saying you cheated with.” Her best friend whispers, moving through the video, getting fast glimpses of Zach laughing, tossing his head back, speaking through slim lips and using his ring-cladded hands to express his points. Only three minutes before the video ends does the image of Jay with her and a fan comes on the screen, earning Hyeji a few taps on her shoulder.

“There! There! Stop the video there!”

The darkness of her room, reeking the smell of orange chicken and diet soda, is bathed in the light of Zach Chwe as he rolls on his chair and says: “There’s a reason us men are called assholes and I think it’s because Jay Lee exists. Okay, I’m not anyone to be putting my opinion here and I usually stay away from these things, so I’m not sure if she cheated or not…but isn’t it, at least, the best thing you can do to spell correctly as you’re dissing your ex?”

Then, the screen shows screenshots of Jay’s tweets, bathed in hate, writing in the worst possible way and yet, with a few errors.

She hadn’t noticed that as she got drowned into the drama that he had created, so she smiles for what feels like the first time this week.

“You don’t even spell that well, Zach!” Someone shouts from the background, and she knows Zach Chwe normally has his friends putting in some words for spice on his videos, but she actually laughs along with him.

“More of a reason to critique, I guess.” He shrugs his shoulders. “But hey, remember those Facebook videos we talked about a few weeks ago? If you haven’t checked it out, I’ll leave the link to that video on the description, but we were making fun about those mom videos where they make their daughters fearful of sending nudes because some creep will post them on their Facebook page. I thought men like that didn’t exist, until I figured out this whole Jay Lee thing. He’s a hair away from posting a picture of her feet, I tell you so.”

The video doesn’t last much long after that, with Zach making fun of Jay’s tweets and then, the camera zooming in on his face for an outro recalling his beginnings online. However, Hyeji has fallen silent, with her knees propped under her chin, using her free hand to caress the column of her ear, as always, seeking for a way of making her feel better through touch.

“This sounds…like the internet is going insane.” Hyeji then reaches for her phone, shaking in the air. “Come on, unlock it and turn on your notifications again!”

“What? Why?” She is not sure she’s ready to lurk through social media once again, Hyeji has been doing that for her instead, like her little manager, blocking the hate that gets real and personal.

“Jay is playing it off as if Zach Chwe is the one that you’re dating, or the one you cheated on him with.”

“I didn’t cheat on him—

“I know, but he’s trying to get views and I need to know if Zach’s team contacted you, so open that phone and get a pair of balls for what we’re about to face.”

A pair of balls would be little to what she needs once she opens Twitter and Instagram.

On Instagram, she has been tagged on a bunch of pictures. Headlines that include her profile picture on YouTube and Zach Chwe’s picture. Titles that go on the rampant lie of ‘YouTube Stars Zach Chwe and OfDrawingsAndWords on a relationship!’ scattering across her vision on every platform she comes across of.

“I’m doomed. Jay keeps winning no matter what I do—”

“Because you haven’t said anything. You’re protecting him even when he’s trying to destroy you.” Hyeji advices, pushing on her Instagram notifications until she sees it, a direct message from the YouTuber who is implicated on this drama with her, nonetheless. “So, you either take the reigns right here, right now or Jay Lee is going to drown your career before it even reached the shore.”

Shaking fingertips reach for the Instagram message, closing her eyes tightly until she opens it.

“Read it.”

“Come on…” Hyeji trails, clasping the phone in her hands. “I know it’s been tough, but I don’t need you hiding away.”

“I’m scared! This guy has nothing to do with me!” She screeches, slapping her hand on her shoulder only to have Hyeji looking at her. With that softness that characterizes her under all her strength.

“Alright…” Hyeji whispers, soon after reading out loud. “Hey, it’s Zach Chwe. I’m sorry that my comments involved us in a mess bigger than what you already had going on and my team and I want to make mends on the issue I just created. Do you mind talking about it, in person or with my PR team getting in contact with you? Sorry for the inconvenience once again.”

Hyeji takes in a deep breath before tossing herself onto the half-done bed.

“We’re talking about it in person.”

“…Uh, we’re not.” She finalizes, trying to snatch her phone back but Hyeji isn’t relenting. Though, she’s not as rude as one would imagine, she still consenting by looking her way and expecting her to change her mind. “Hyeji, I don’t want to see anyone right now. Jay’s blowing everything out of proportion—”

“Reason as to why you shouldn’t hide. Zach Chwe can be a great person to have on your side right now. The internet loves him, and now they’re not as cruel. You have to see the comments, people are torn just because he is involved.”

That makes her ponder, inspecting every portion of Hyeji’s face to find some fun or joke in her features, but she’s full-on serious. Not a drop of insecurity in those quirked eyebrows. She sighs deeply, taking the phone in her hands and seeing the sign that reads ‘you follow each other’. Why is it that people naturally gravitate towards what a man can say or not, even when she has been expecting to be trusted by anyone online and no one seemed to be by her side?

No one but him and a few people. Even the friends that she had collaborated with several times had taken his side.

Hence, she starts typing, not caring about the consequences of fueling the fire a little bit more, because she’s already getting burned, but she won’t relent without a fight.

“I’m down with meeting up so we can sort out how we will go on about this. You select the place and the time. Thank you for getting in contact, by the way!”

Hyeji places a kiss on top of her head, squishing her slim cheek against her scalp.

“We will get past this, love. I swear we will.”

She doesn’t think this unreasonable love war is anywhere near over, however.

“I sure hope we will.”

Hansol thinks making ramen is an art form. He does it when he’s nervous instead of nibbling on his bottom lip or tugging his black beanie down his ears for the umpteenth time. Only he would think it was a great idea to meet with one of his favorite social media creators on a fucking convenience store, but he feels protected by the quietness and the sweet buzzing of the microwave as he wishes upon a start that the stacks of cheese that he poured on his flaming hot noodles becomes a puddle at the bottom that relishes its exquisiteness.

So, maybe, he’s a bit nervous. Reason as to why he had lost his grip a bit when pouring the cheese on the ramen basket.

It passes him how she has been able to spend weeks receiving the messages she does, but the moment he posted that video, the narrative took another turn. Hell, he even thinks he has seen some edited videos of the two of them as a supposed ‘couple’. The song has been released, heard by thousands, even more news coming up about them and he’s…surprised. About the sheltering that came from his pseudonym and how the world is torn. Now, Jay shines as a real villain and people ponder if leaving him for Hansol was the right choice.

How in the hell he got in this situation is misunderstood by him?

However, he rubs on his eye after grabbing the ramen noodles and plopping them on the nearest table, he hears the bells by the door ringing, the worker too occupied in organizing the strawberry milks to even care about her, but he does. None of her pictures online would ever compare to how she looks in real life. With a gray turtleneck for the weather, face ridden of any makeup, sweater half-tucked into her pants and yet, as her sunglasses rest on the brim of her head, she looks like a whole…dream.

She reminds him of the warmth that comes from a gust of breath on top of freezing hands when winter drops around. They are just barely reaching fall, but the weather has fallen significantly. She stands in front of him, looking away from her phone before a small smile reaches the corner of her eyes, not adding a small ‘hi’ as he does with a wave of his hand, but something to the air between them nonetheless.

“You look different when you’re not mumbling ‘bitch’ into the camera.”

Breaking the ice, warming the air, significant matters that only she can do and does in the brink of a second. Hansol plops the two bowls of ramen on the table, watching as she scrunches her nose at the cheese to stir it within the mixture, but he tries not to think too much about his decision. Maybe, she’s just not fond of cheese.

“I take that as a good thing. I don’t call anyone ‘bitch’ unless I get a really good check out of it.” Hansol jokes around, soon after widening his eyes when she quirks an eyebrow at him, the corner of her mouth barely lifting in a smirk. “Not that I’d call you anything of the like. Gosh, I’m being stupid. Uh…hi, I’m Hansol.”

“You’ve already said hi.” She prompts, picking up some of the noodles and unlike him, who has already burned the bridge of his mouth, she twirls them on the chopsticks, blows on them and munches on the cheesy treat. “But I didn’t know you were called Hansol. I would’ve sworn on my life that your real name was Zach.”

He shakes his head. “I want my real life nicely divided from who I am as a person online. Not that I am much different, but Hansol’s the name that I have on my ID and that I use for personal matters, so I don’t want to mix the two.” He shrugs his shoulders soon after, saying her name and earning a nod from her. “Okay, so, uh…to the matter at hand, right?”

“Straight to the point.” She clears her throat, giving him a smile before reaching for the diet soda Hansol had brought. “So, half the internet thinks we are dating…and that you’re that supposed side guy that I had while dating Jay.”

He shouldn’t ask. Shit, this is Jeonghan speaking in his brain, telling him to fucking ask, but he’s curious. He heard the nonsensical beat that Jay released in the form of a diss track that now has fifteen million views, so… “Did you really cheat on him or is he taking everything out of context?”

She spreads her hands across her chest, defending herself. “Here’s the thing, I am a woman. Me breaking up with a guy just because I was unhappy in a relationship directly has to mean I cheated on him. For starters, I didn’t. I liked Jay even after the break-up, obviously until the moment he decided to blow everything out of proportion.” She explains, sighing deeply after. “I didn’t, for instance. I’m sorry that you got involved.”

“No, I am the one that should be sorry.” Hansol shakes his head, rubbing his eyebrow as if something was bothering him. “It’s just—No, I’m sorry but I don’t regret it. I had to talk about it. Part of it was because obviously, it’s a trending topic, but also because…no one deserves to get the hate you’re getting right now.”

She remains silent, playing with the straw in between strawberry lips. Not an ounce of makeup and yet, the inside looks as if they were bitten to utter perfection. Hansol’s embarrassed that he has liked every picture of hers on social media ever since they started following each other.

Things that the public had sadly taken account of and had completely used against them to prove a supposed relationship.

“I don’t regret it either. That you did that, I mean.” She counterparts. “Sure, I shouldn’t be thinking about revenge, but Jay has been so distraught and the public has turned against him, while also not being on my side. They are just on your side.” With a mellowness that, somehow, he thinks should never belong to her, for the twist of her lips on a downwards motion is a terrible contrast to the smile he saw earlier. “Reason as to why my friend got in contact with one of the people from your team. I don’t have a team myself—”

“I’m surprised I even have a team, so I don’t judge you.” Hansol’s eyes twinkle, remembering the words he had shared with Seungcheol earlier. After all, he’s the manager and the one—technically, for Hansol still has his input—in charge of what is posted on his channel or not. “Seungcheol, my manager, talked to me about what your friend and mine talked about.”

Seungcheol was not that happy about the exposure that Hansol got, but after a while, Jeonghan weighted the options and became a mastermind for what the internet was aiming to see. They wanted to learn the other side of the story, just because it would be told by one of the most liked characters in YouTube as of now. Zach Chwe, venturing into the world of a person that no one would have ever thought he’d be compatible with. To break all the rumors with a show, a mini web-series for the world to gnaw at while both teams earned money.

“For the record, I know it’s a difficult thing to think about. I wasn’t in for it at first.” Hansol explains, and he’s not sure he’s ready to have a different light casted on his channel, but Jeonghan was clear to say that he wasn’t intending on a dating show or a couple’s channel. Instead, he wanted something…vague. “They just want us to work on a challenge mini-series. We’d do stuff like go to haunted houses or anything of the like. To make people wonder if we really did date or we were just in it for the show. They’d give us views, hoping to find something or any clues, and we’d leave with a good paycheck and a big question mark after what we were.”

She continues eating, pondering with fluttering eyelashes and a sigh that gets trapped on her throat. “Yeah…I’m okay with it. I don’t think it’s a bad idea.” She responds, and Hansol thinks the deal is almost over, but she continues: “You’ll have to keep in mind that while there may be a huge wave of people loving our series together, you might also get a lot of hate. Jay did a great job at—”

“I don’t care.”

“Huh?”

“You’ll come to learn I don’t care about a lot of stuff. Hate? I don’t care.” Hansol explains, giving her a soft smile. “A wanking old man can tell me I’m the worst YouTuber he has ever seen, and I won’t take it to heart. I’m not a plate to be enjoyed by all.”

“Whoa…” She whispers, plucking a lot of noodles up to show it to him. “Not only are you the antonym of a lactose intolerant person, but you’re also awfully wise.”

“You’re welcome for the visit to the bathroom later.” Hansol comments, earning well-heard laughter by her. She tosses her head back and the laugh comes out in spurts. Odd and yet, cute.

“I’ll have to get used to those comments, Z—Hansol.”

“We’ll get used to each other. We have a whole season to plan, after all.”

WE VISITED A HAUNTED HOSPITAL? | EP. 1 S1 | ZACH CHWE

She’d kill Hansol for thinking of visiting a haunted hospital as the first topic of their new show, but she’s too scared to actually want to murder him right now. What if he came back as one of those ghosts who were supposedly here? She can’t risk it.

Drops of petrichor build on forgotten walls, where once were supposedly patients that needed help but were abandoned to a beckoning fire. Hansol said on the way here that he truly doubted the events happened. If the hospital was burned down to its core, why was it still standing and why were tickets sold for people to go through it like tourists in Sydney? She doesn’t have a clue. All that she knows is that they were placed on opposite ends of the hospital, bound to meet through clues, but she hasn’t been able to move from her position under a table.

She was aware that Hansol’s team and hers, which only includes Hyejin, had insisted on having jump-scares all around. One of those jump-scares could be Jeonghan in a clown uniform, but the moment she saw it, the moment she sprinted away. Now, she has been seated there for more than thirty minutes, ignoring her next mission and the door in front of her, with a beating heart and her knees pressed to her chest.

Great, she’s about to ruin their first episode.

Beheld with destiny, she thinks she’s about to shit her pants the moment she hears that old, wooden door creak under the weight of someone entering. Caught, she’s imagined to be, unable to discern between the group of people there to add spice to the video and the actual ghosts that are supposedly in this hospital. However, the first thing she sees are a pair of converses in light green and soon after, someone is kneeling in front of her.

Hansol’s long hair is clouded by a hoodie so thick his earlobes are red, or so she thinks that’s the reason, because his hand pats on the expanded leg of her jeans. Bell jeans were in once again, and she had opted to have them on her outfit. However, Hansol’s high cheekbones lift in a smile when he counterparts:

“If you’re really trying to hide from ghosts, having half of your leg out from underneath the table is not the way to go.” Hansol spares a look at the corner of the room, perhaps pinpointing where the camera is, before she shakes her head at him. She’s still a little shaken, letting out in a trembling tone what must be the most pathetic thing he’s ever heard.

“What if this place is actually haunted?”

“I don’t know percentages, but I am sure someone has died in every possible place on earth. Here, if it’s haunted, or anywhere.” Hansol drags himself under the table, sitting down next to her and taking up the same position she has, though he presses his cheek to the upper portion of his knees. “So, as a matter of fact, every place should be haunted.”

“You’re not helping.” She adds, turning her face to look at him and my God, is Chwe Hansol actually very handsome. He’s different from Jay, with higher cheeks, rounded eyebrows, and a color that resembles honey on tea in his irises. She should look away, not feed into the idea that people have of them being together, but they were meant to act as natural as possible for this show, and looking away has never been more difficult.

“…Said my mom as I helped with the dishes, and my sister after I met her first boyfriend. Helping is not really my biggest forte, but I try.” Hansol shows a full row of teeth when he smiles, like he does it without a care in this world. He probably does. Something about Hansol tells her that he doesn’t really care what people think of him. “But I found you, so I think that’s us winning the game, isn’t it?”

“Is this a park ride for you or something? You’re all smiley and shit.” She tells him, mimicking his smile though hers is a bit more crooked, like she’s trying to push it away so it doesn’t reach him as the most dumbfounded, surprised expression.

“I like this place.”

She feigns a ringing cellphone with a purr of her lips, folding her hand to mimic a phone only to be caught in between his digits, pressed to his ear as if he’s picking it up.

“Yes, hello?” He asks, fluttering eyelashes in between sweetened laughter. One would think that someone like Chwe Hansol was a punch of pink lemonade, but knowing he’s more like a very sweetened soda is a new occurrence.

“It’s your psychologist. He’s asking for another appointment.”

Hansol chuckles at her words, putting down her hand and yet, leaving her with a tingle that awakens in the pit of her stomach and blossoms like butterfly wings across her chest, filling her in with a breath so profound that every single one of her ribs expands with glee.

“They should.” With that, he stands up,extending a slim hand that wavers its fingers for her to grab. Once she does, she’s up her feet, chest to chest with a man who looks at her with pink lips closed together, hiding the row of teeth that she had grown so fond of in just minutes, for how beautiful and calming his smile could be. “I think we should get out and get to the exit—”

What they don’t expect is for the door to bang open, irrupting on their fort and creating a tense atmosphere when they come face to face with a clown, much of the like of what It could look like. And while Hansol laughs from the moment he sees it, she doesn’t. A shout trips from the back of her throat, much like herself, as she jumps onto Hansol’s back and feels his hands contracting against her thighs, catching her just in time. Her eyes, hidden by his neck, are barely touched by the long hairs on his nape that don’t get to be trapped in his beanie, and when she mumbles for them to leave, Hansol starts sprinting like his life depends on it.

Never does he stop laughing, though, as whoever is dressed on the clown outfit follows after them. He’s secure, for some reason, even when they don’t know each other very well, something about Hansol makes her feel as though she is protected. Sheltered from a world that had always been so tough, but with him is just a tiny bit more complex. And for Hansol, that’s okay.

Something tells her that Hansol doesn’t push himself to understand the majority of things. The reason why the world goes around the sun, or why so many people choose heartbreak. He knows he’s a particle, a mere second in a clock, a reason to laugh or a momentum to flee. While she lives through memories, Hansol relishes on breaths. On moments that are here and now, enjoyable and yet, somehow dreamy in the way that they go by so fast.

She doesn’t know him much, but when they reach the exit and the sun bathes them through peaks in between gray clouds, he is still holding her. Even when Seungcheol points Hansol’s camera at them and he’s talking, he still doesn’t let go of her. She hears a faint joke, a reason to part from his neck, but lord does she wish she would not have looked away.

For his face is too close and that mole on his temple is right there, valuable enough to catch her attention.

So, she drops herself to the floor, falling on her knees and raising her hands in the air before shouting to the camera:

“Good fucking Lord, we made it!”

And Hansol laughs, like he does in these situations, but how she wishes that laugh would not feel precisely like home should feel like.

Thirteen million views and just the third episode of the series has been posted. Now, that is breaking records.

She would have never believed the world would become a big number for her. Flop or not valued by the amount of people seeing you; regardless of interest or not. She seeks for that validation—much more after the break-up—. From people who don’t really know her, but love to give conspiracies about how Hansol and she met. They say they are together, and they don’t really deny it. The closer they get through episodes, the more people seem interested in it, and while she’s in the thrive for more—fame, success, whatever the fuck it is that is sedating her, Hansol stays…the same.

He invited her over to his place. So unorganized, just like his thoughts. He leaves his coats hanging on his poor couch, picking them up per demand, with splashes of coffee on the coffee table from early this morning still forgotten. Tonight, on this Saturday night, Hansol has brought soju with himself, licking off the remaining bits of his black bean noodles from his chopsticks. She still has a bit left on her place, but she has opted to sit with her head hanging from the sofa, looking at him from upside down, maybe a bit boozed because of the alcohol he had prepositioned for ‘idea organization’.

“What if we ate noodles on a rollercoaster?” They have planned up to episode ten. The end of the season, after all. But people have been asking for another season, and while it’s not confirmed, a company had ventured into the hardships of wanting to promote them for a second season and that meant giving them ideas on a silver platter in hopes of them liking it enough to support it monetarily.

“You want a POV of us vomiting on a camera. Got it.” She drags, inspecting the way his cheeks turn maroon and how he puts his bottle of soju down, giving her a smile that, if she had to describe, would call it extremely dumb.

“When you put it that way, sounds incredibly hot.”

“Ew, Hansol.” She has gotten used to calling him that name now, a month into their venture and almost four episodes in. Her head starts thumping and with four bottles of soju, she can’t stop thinking. Hansol has almost been like a bubble; he lets her see on the outside and still, protects her in some way. She knows that the death threads are still there, as well as the ongoing rumors with Jay that include her in a love triangle, but with him, recording and a new group of people around them, she has managed to lose herself a bit more. “I can’t think straight at this moment.”

“Probably because you’re losing blood flow.” Hansol drags himself closer to her, never lifting his butt of the ground, twisting her hair in a bun that falls the moment she sits up straight. Not because he told her so, or because she was afraid of losing oxygen in her brain, but rather the reason behind it was that Hansol was a little too close to her. Enough for her to see those beautiful speckles in her eyes.

Yes, so that’s the thing…Hansol is extremely pretty.

Awfully so.

In a drunken state, that’s multiplied by a hundred.

“What if we made a ‘Show Me The Money’ parody?”

Hansol shrugs. “I’d eat you up.”

“You think so?” She slurs, pressing her cheek to the edge of the couch and almost twitching when Hansol reaches for the corner of her joggers, pulling them down where they had bunched at her ankles. That’s when his skin comes in contact with hers, wrapping entirely around that portion of her leg and letting his thumb caress the joint behind it. “Mm, don’t do that.”

“S—Sorry.” And Hansol pulls away at that moment, cheeks even more flushed with the alcohol, eyes widened. “I—I didn’t…”

“It just feels nice.” She tells him in a whisper, dozing off and letting her eyes close as the only thing she can hear in the background is the faint sound of Drake’s latest record and, of course, his calm breathing. “…And I don’t like getting used to it. You don’t know how many times I’ve gotten used to things only for them to hurt me…after…”

It’s the alcohol talking and the sleepiness losing her, because she doesn’t remember what else she had said or why she falls asleep so fast. What she does remember is what she dreams. She sees Jay in dreams, remembering the way his palm fit so snugly around her knee, and how he’d trace the underside of it with how big his hand was. Now, she sees it in third person, in some cramped-up party of the like of those he went to, with his lips spread around another woman’s, doing the same thing he did to her, and somehow breaking apart the little threads left in her heart. Because that’s what men have always done to her—hurt her until she couldn’t recognize herself.

She awakens with sweat pooling at her neckline and breaths unarranged in a manner that has her clasping the first thing she feels. Hansol has turned down the lights, his back pressed to the edge of the couch, head lulled back in a way that will probably have him aching in the morning. His brown hair spreads on top of his forehead like vices, eyelashes straight and long, jaw squared yet somehow relaxed as his lips part. He’s snoring softly, barely audibly, laying there like he wouldn’t move even if the world ended.

So, she drags her hand across his forearm, feeling every bump and mountain of slim muscle until she reaches his knuckles and touches them, shaking his hand in hopes of getting him to open his eyes.

He doesn’t, but he does hum at the mention of his name.

“Hansol…I had a nightmare.” She has them often. Each time, she looks into the shadows of the night hoping for the real monsters to appear. Not the ones that make their guest appearance in horror movies, but the ones that actually hurt her. People that tarnished her heart in ways that now has it stopping from time to time. “I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, but could…could you please hold me? When I’m held, I can fall back asleep.”

“Yeah, sure.” He rasps out, dragging himself towards the couch as she makes him some space. He doesn’t talk about his room or taking up the bed, because he’s probably too sleepy to even care, when he places an arm under her head and lets him square a leg in between his just to make room for the two.

“I’m sorry for getting so close.”

He drags her until her face rests on his collarbone, humming what she can imagine is a ‘no’. “You’re not doing it for anything bad. It’s okay.” He whispers. “Is this tight enough?”

She looks up at him, eyes still closed. So naturally peaceful and yet, somehow blaring war noises inside her head. Ready to flee away just in case her stomach drops to the ground at the mere sight of him. “It’s perfect.”

Hansol shouldn’t feel perfect. Not if season two is ever going to happen.

Usually, the one with the cruel ideas is Jeonghan. Hyejin has finally met up to that standard. Her friend, not his, and that’s surprising. Hansol has to give her some props for the idea of the ninth episode.

‘Never Have I Ever’. He doesn’t think he has played the game since that one moment he joined college. Only recently did he get his degree, and the engineering degree normally doesn’t get invited to the kind of parties that have drinking games, but Hansol was friends with a bunch of people who would take any kind of game as a reason to drink. This one doesn’t include drinking, but it’s either eating something really nasty, laid in front of them on a picnic cloth—there are testicles in there, as far as he knows—or answering.

Hansol should be concentrated on making her eat the five meals that are meant to be eaten by her, but he is tranced by her. Has been since two weeks ago, when he decided that sharing a couch with her was a good idea. Not only did he have to walk away before she noticed that he had accidentally wrapped a hand around her waist while asleep, but he also had to fight off the thoughts that ventured into his head. He didn’t want to be the rebound, but that’s precisely what he would be if he tried to get with her. If he played the cards he does sometimes, when life is a little simpler, of rubbing the back of his neck and buying someone’s favorite Pokémon cards.

It doesn’t help that she has decided to look absolutely gorgeous while they sat on a bench, in a secluded park that Seungcheol had found fitting for filming. Roses scatter around them in the same color of red that splashes on her dress. A loving heart neckline that has him looking down and—fuck, Hansol, don’t be stupid. She’s way out of your league—

“Never have I ever…” She drags her voice while reaching into the hat that was placed nearby for them. He looks at the shape of her mouth, the length of her eyeliner and he wants to punch himself for a second. For staring with that intent, even with cameras around them. For feeling a bit protected in front of them just because everyone thinks they are dating. Or so. “Eaten or tasted earwax.”

“Do I have the face of a man that has tasted earwax?”

“Yes.” She responds, chuckling at him only to have him scrunching up his nose. He looks down at the plate that is served in front of him, this round’s beverage for anyone to enjoy. “Hansol, don’t tell me you have.”

“I’m not sure, but I was a weird kid! May have!” He tells her, picking up his chopsticks and biting into the testicles that he had repulsed from the moment the game started. She throws her head back, laughing like the child in her had awakened at his response, before she’s shaking her head and tossing the card to the side.

“You’re so nasty.”

“Tell me you haven’t done it.”

“Just because I am sure I did it as a kid as well, I’ll help you out with those testicles.” She picks up the chopsticks from his hands, giving it the slightest of bites before sticking out her tongue and dropping it to the ground. “Gross! Jeonghan, where the fuck did you find this stuff?”

“It was Cheol!”

The game continues, with the two of them a point away from either losing or winning. She has her legs spread in front of her, crossed by the ankles, waiting for him to read the card that he’s just opening when his eyes widen for a fraction of a second. Oh, this wasn’t Seungcheol. This has Hyejin’s name written all over it. He knows it because she has been wriggling her eyebrows whenever he makes his way past her, opting to tease him about the ‘obvious crush’ he has on her best friend.

“Never have I ever liked the person across from me.”

Hansol doesn’t move, and he should be drinking the broccoli lemonade that the team prepared, but she moves with a little more precision, as if her anatomy was made to act in cue. His heart stops when she grabs the glass and brings it up to those lips that had been burgundy red at the start of the recording to drink. She closes her eyes, tosses her head back, and gags at the taste, but Hansol is far too lost.

…She had liked him? Then? Now? When?

“Confessions, confessions. Always coming up from these videos.” She is more of a natural in front of the camera, taking his hand and bringing it up in the air as per a champion from a boxing fight. She has won him over, if only if she knew. “We’ve got ourselves a winner. Give a round of applause for Zach Chwe, everyone!”

Hansol can’t even smile. He’s dumbfounded, staring at her profile and seeing her grin in such an easy going way. Though, the moment they say their goodbyes from the video, she pulls away from him, clearing her throat and looking at him as if she expects an answer. One that never comes and leaves him just to stand up, excuse himself out of the park and lock himself in the nearest bathroom.

Being the rebound is not what he wants, but God, would he be lying to himself if he didn’t accept he has liked her for longer than he’d want to admit.

Two months pass by. The first season becomes a success and still, not a word has been uttered about that episode. The subscribers’ favorite episode, but the forgotten episode for those who were involved.

No one asks questions when they come together for VidCon. It feels natural, actually. She doesn’t think she would have been able to just go on her own anymore. As some kind of way the world had planned it, Hansol feels like her counterpart in whatever this is right now. Friendship, work, whatever they have garnered together that people seem to love enough to have a panel for them, where they speak to fans and take pictures together. She notices then that she’s not the only person awestruck by Hansol’s beauty, even when that’s obvious at this point. He looks like a daydream in his black t-shirt, rounded glasses and skinny jeans, smiling in pictures and even joking around with fans.

Sometimes, she just looks at him from the side and blames him for it. For letting things slide so smoothly in between the two after that forbidden episode. He never said a word, neither did he try to clear her head with a kiss to her lips or even a strict ‘no’ that would have her moving on. It’s his fault for being likeable; for giving her a necklace with her initial as a celebration when their first season became a success. For him to receive her with a bowl of noodles for every recording they had each week. For him to tag her on stupid memes on Twitter, not giving a care what anyone could say.

The venue is packed and Hansol gets a little too lost on conversations with a fan that is talking about his beginnings as a gamer—that wasn’t really good to start with—when she feels someone tapping her on the shoulder. Her hips move from the edge of their table, where an enormous poster of the publicity image for the first season of their show spreads in the background, to turn around and respond to the subscriber that was trying to get her attention. Nonetheless, like a clashing thunder in a summer day, Jay stands there looking like the oddest thing she has seen in the past three months.

Because she’s not used to him anymore. Neither has she felt like she was truly comfortable with the idea of him. He’s a few heads taller than her, with his black hair pushed back and the sleeves of his shirt dragged up to showcase his tattoos. He’s smiling when he greets her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and hugging her briefly before he pulls away. They are lucky that is not peak hour and most people have scattered to look at the music presentation that was taking place.

“Jay?” She questions, only to have him smiling proudly, like he would do whenever he got recognized in public.

“The one and only. I had to pass by when I heard you were making it to this year’s convention.” His dark brown eyes splay across the poster behind them, trailing after every detail of the image of Hansol wrapping an arm around her shoulder, both smiling at the camera as they spread their hands in peace signs, smiling gleefully. “Haven’t watched a season of the show, but I might start. It’s fucking everywhere.”

She should not talk to him, but she scoffs at his words, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest to portray just how closed she is to him, but she doesn’t miss her sarcastic smile. Not an ounce of hate is within her chest anymore, but she recalls the wounds he opened just to make bigger ones. “…Mhm, it’s not the type of show you’d watch. Too much of a big brainer.”

“Oh, come on, you know I’m smarter than I look.”

For the way he plotted the entire internet against her, she knows for a fact Jay could very much be a lawyer or an astronaut if he wanted to. Misspells or not. “I’m certain. I’ve never doubted you’re a cunning, smart little shit.”

“I like that. Might make it my new motto.” Before Jay could venture into more of a conversation, her waist is grounded by a pair of thin arms wrapping around them. Soft skin connecting with her through the fabric of her pink hoodie has her looking back to see that Hansol is hugging her from behind, hiding his hands on the pockets of her hoodie and pressing his chin to her shoulder before whispering into her ear.

“We’ve got stuff to do, remember? Like organizing our things at the hotel and sign some posters for tomorrow…” He never rushes with those things, but at the presence of Jay, Hansol’s a bit more masculine and selfish with time. When she tries to answer him, far too lost in the beauty of him now that he has pushed his sunglasses to the top of his head, pulling the strands of his hair back, his golden eyes have settled on Jay, not even sparing him a grin out of courtesy. “I’ll have to snatch her away from you.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Jay adds, aiming to hurt and taint, but Hansol doesn’t let him. Instead, he pulls her by the strings of her hoodie, interlocking their hands together before speaking closely to her face.

“So, are we going?”

It’s not a doubt that she says ‘yes’. After all, if her heart had grown a bond for Hansol without him touching her that way, having a glimpse of what it could be like to be with him has her brain going feverish.

Hansol is certain about many things. That he likes the color green. He loves tie dye hoodies. That he would die in a beanie if he could. He enjoys weird scary shows, and he would marathon the entirety of Scream in a minute. He is also certain that he doesn’t want to talk to her, as they sit across from each other in his hotel room. Not just because, but for the matter that she was talking to the ex that had done anything in his willpower to push her to be absolutely nothing.

He sits on a brown leather couch, working diligently on signing posters while she has opted not to do so. For the past ten minutes, she has ventured into all the possible conversation topics in order to get him to look up, even smile, but while Hansol likes living his life in tranquility, he also has his angered moments. His blood felt like it had rushed to his knuckles from how tight he was holding them closed when he saw Jay. He couldn’t bear but admit to himself that, while he had opted not to think about her in that light, the idea of her going back to Jay and not with him infuriated him. Sure, she wasn’t his—neither was she anybody’s, for that matter—but if someone had to have her as the person by their side, it had to be him. Right?

Anyone but fucking Jay Lee.

But preferably him.

Yet, she knows how to get the world to look at her with eyes that had been rose-colored by her voice and eyes alone. After ten minutes, she knows that he won’t talk to her and when the beads of silence surround the cream-colored room, he almost imagines that she has left. Only that he gets to see her jean-cladded thighs standing in front of his knees, his eyes darting to her face for a fraction of a second until he sees her. The closeness, the little smile that splays in the corner of her mouth, and that wave to her eyebrows that tells him that she’s a bit confused, amused, but also a tad annoyed.

“Why are you angry at me? I haven’t done anything to get the silent treatment.” God, she’s one of the smartest women he has met. With the way she can think of matters in the spot and make a drawing on the screen the most interesting thing in the world. He knows her commentaries on movies are the most precise, intelligent words that could be said, and yet, he wishes she could wake up and realize that he has been here, all along, for three months and even a bit more, liking her like a complete fool. “Hansol, you either talk to me or you talk to me. I’m not giving you another option.”

“That man was…okay, I’ll talk to you.” Hansol stops himself when he hears just how mortified he sounds when he starts talking, putting the poster he was signing to the side, laying on the table next to him with the other pile of posters. Soon after, he’s spreading his hands on the armrest, leaning back on the couch. “Jay has done nothing but make your life an absolute hell and there you go, just being nice to him, letting him hug you and talk to you—”

“Hold up,” She interrupts him, spreading a hand on her waist. “If I just ignore him or treat him like shit, I’m giving him even more of a reason to talk. I’ll be the first to admit to say that the stuff Jay put me through wounded me in ways that will take more than a few months to work through, but I also don’t want to give him the benefit of being aware of how much he hurt me.”

Hansol can understand that, but he also knows what men like Jay think. He runs his fingers through his hair, groaning through half-parted lips. “He probably thinks he still has you on the palm of his hand.”

“He doesn’t.” She shrugs. “So, what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to see you with him. That is the problem.” Hansol says, standing up and staring at her, face-to-face. “I know you won’t go back to him but it makes me angry to think you ever thought of being with him. Not only doesn’t he match up with you on looks, but he never deserved you. You could put him on a pan and drop an entire bag of salt on him and Jay Lee would still be flavorless. The biggest mistake you could ever make, and the thought alone of him wanting to be with you—”

“I don’t want to be with him.”

“Yes, but…” You also don’t want to be with me, he completes for himself. Sure, she had once said she liked him, but what reassures him that it wasn’t just for the camera?

“You’re making a big deal out of it!”

“I fucking know!” He exclaims, widening his eyes.

“Then?”

“I will make everything that happens to you a big deal because I care for you. I’ve liked you for God-knows how long. Sorry for getting jealous, but I don’t regret it one—”

She interrupts him before he could say anything else, with her lips spreading across his, savoring the tremor of his mouth before he opens it to the granting touch of her tongue. His bottom lip fits between hers as if they were made for her, her hands gravitating to his waist and pulling him closer, though the fact that she was the one to make the first move did not stop Hansol from adding his own motions. His hands spread on the back of her neck, thumbs coming in contact on the column of her throat and dragging a sweet stripe down, rising goosebumps all over her skin. Hansol tilts his head to the side, a cloud of humidity building from the breath he lets out before kissing her lazily, albeit strongly, like he knows he doesn’t have to do much to do it right.

She would like to punch him, ask him why he never did anything when she confessed to liking him in that video, but Hansol has seated back on the chair, hands landing on her hips as he continues to kiss her, and her thighs part to settle comfortably on his lap. When she pulls away from him, lips tainted in that romantic shade of pink that he leaves everywhere he goes, she traces the outline of his mouth with a peck before she goes down to his neck, hiding in there for a second.

“You had me guessing for so long, Hansol. That’s what assholes do.”

Hansol’s hands rub at her hips, one of the portions she’s more insecure about, but with him it just feels right. “I don’t want to be your rebound.” He tells her, grabbing her by her chin before pushing their lips together once again. He keeps his eyes closed when he speaks against her mouth, just minutes after biting on her bottom lip. “Please, don’t let me be a rebound. If I am, stop me now.”

She’d be crazy to stop him. Not when his mouth looks like a rose petal and her heart feels the more at ease she has felt in a while. Sure, this is always the start of every romance. She knows that men feel comfortable before they destroy her heart even worse than the last time, but something tells her that this is not the case with Hansol. She closes her eyes, venturing into the shape of his mouth to trace it like the map she should have followed a long time ago.

For now, she’ll get lost in him, in the way he makes her feel like she’s the newest star in the sky and he’s drawing it himself. Calling her something that goes unnamed for now.

The word ‘for now’ is so funny. It prolongs in time, so much that three months turn into six, and then, an entire year.

She had said that Hansol’s idea was a ‘for now’. That him, as a person, was temporary as it gets, but the clock was making fun of her as she rushes to his car, holding onto the coldest coffee she could get at this hour of the morning. Some people feel comfortable, not because they are colored certain way or how they make you feel, but what you two make together. Blue and green are colors on their own, but together they make something different. The creation of new matters is what makes the world a little bit more interesting.

Hansol doesn’t enjoy mornings, not after a short night of sleep, and that may be her fault, but with the way he smiles at her when she opens the car’s door, she’s sure he has forgiven her. For how great they felt last night, she’s sure that there were no grudges held. A camera is pointed her way, though she knows that the second season of their show is still being published on her channel and, no way in hell, he would ever post the videos he takes of her. Little vlogs to remember what it was like here, now, forever. God, forever sounds amazing with Hansol.

“Here we have a whole coffee addict, making her way to my sick Porsche.”

“It’s a Toyota, Hansol. Sit the fuck down.” She completes, entering the car and pushing her hair over her shoulder, leaning over the seat to let him taste the coffee. That makes the camera a little too close to her face, laughing and pushing it to the side the slightest. “I’m sure I don’t look that good in that angle.”

“You don’t, but real love will make me say you do.” He completes, sipping a few more times into her coffee before giving it back to her. He has the hood of his shirt all the way over his dark hair, turning off the camera and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before he starts the car.

Talking about their relationship in public was forbidden, for she doesn’t want to blur the line in between the faux relationship and what became real. In fact, it happened with its bumps along the road. She can’t say that everything has been easy, that sometimes her nightmares don’t wake her up with the idea of Hansol leaving one day, or not precisely leaving her, but stomping on her heart before he flees away, but that idea alone is pushed away with a served kiss and a few words that save her from doubting. Hansol is not much of a talker and yet, when he opens those lips of his, he always seems to say the right thing.

So, while the subscribers have never gotten a real video of them admitting to their relationship, it’s almost public notice. She sips on her drink, looking at his profile and the tranquility of him before asking.

“So, I saw a Tweet not too long ago. As I was waiting for coffee, actually.”

“From who?” His voice grows serious, expecting to hear anything from Jay or anyone else on the internet, but she calms him down by interlocking their fingers together, tracing the small promise ring on his finger with her thumb.

“From a subscriber that wanted to point out our supposed beginnings.” She likes looking at those conspiracies from time to time. They are so ridiculous that she can’t help but be amused by how close and obsessed people can get from someone they saw on the internet. Well, as long as it’s kept like a good momentum on someone’s life, and they know not to blur the line, she’s sure it’s okay. “The first picture you liked of me was on April 18th, three years ago. It was a picture of me on my desk, looking down at my I-Pad as I drew, working on my next video.”

Hansol twists his head to the side, laughing to himself a bit before nodding. “I remember that picture.”

“You do?”

“I do.” He looks at her for a fraction of a second before bringing their interlocked hands up, giving it a soft kiss. “Your hair was shorter then. Way shorter. I thought you were pretty.”

“Sometimes, I wish I had met you earlier.”

“Huh, earlier wasn’t our time, I guess.” Hansol responds, letting go of her hand to grab her coffee.

Holding her breath, she looks at his sleepy profile. At him as a person. It has been so long and yet, the words don’t weight on her mouth when she opts to mumble it for the first time:

“I love you, Hansol.”

His eyes twinkle when she says those words, spreading a smile into his face that show all his teeth before he gnaws at his bottom lip.

“I love you, too.”

#vernon scenarios #vernon x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #kpop scenarios #seventeen #vernon #writing #vernon au #vernon fluff #vernon angst #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen au

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fixfoxnox · 11 months

Note

Hii gmorning/night/evening! Hope you are having a really nice day.

I don't quite know if you're doing a platonic request, but if you can. Can I request maybe a fic or maybe a scenario, Tf141 and younger reader (younger than gaz himself) whose father is makarov himself and on one mission when Tf141 were capturing makarov the reader were forced to do the interrogation on their own father (the reader did it with professionalism ofc), makarov.

How would the Tf141 react when they found out that makarov was the reader father maybe around a day after the mission ended, the reader been in a both deep thought and sour mood when the mission ended. (Poor reader was trying to not punch cry on spot when he see makarov)

Anyway! Just that I hope it's not that confusing 👉👈 have a nice day!

Fun fact, if we're using Makarov's age in the OG game reader could be like as old as like 27 or so depending on how old Makarov was when they were born (Makarov is 47 when he dies in the OG games so he's like 46-47 during the events of the game)

Task Force 141 With a Platonic! GN! Reader Who is Makarov's Child

Characters: Price, Ghost, Gaz, Soap, and Roach

Warnings: Brief injury to reader

"Vladimir Makarov," they made their way into the room carefully, catching the attention of the man currently tied to the chair in the center of the room. Makarov tilted his head at them, a smile quirking up his lips. "We have to talk. If you answer my questions, this will go easy for you. If you don't, I'll have to pass you over to someone with a lot more bloodlust than me."

Makarov paused for a moment before a chuckle left his lips. The sound of it echoed around the room. They grit their teeth as the almost taunting noise bounced around their head. "Makarov? Really? Is that how this is going to be?" Makarov's voice was low and careful and that grin remained on his lips.

"Would you prefer it if I just referred to you as the fucking terrorist?" they shot back, trying to avoid the obvious tension in the room.

"You could call me father. That's what I am, aren't I? Your father."

"Not right now," they stood taller, but all of their body felt tense. This was not a situation they ever wanted to find themself in, but the team had all unanimously voted. They would try Makarov first. If only the team knew why that was such a bad idea. "Right now, you're Vladimir Makarov, head of the Ultranationalists. A Russian terrorist group."

Makarov shook his head, a low tutting noise escaping his lips, "Now, now, that isn't how this works. I'm always your father, whether you're on the," he eyed them disdainfully for a moment, "wrong side of things or not."

Their father was taunting them. He wanted to get a reaction out of them. They could tell with just the way he talked. They'd seen him do it to enough people over the years to know what to watch out for. As odd as it was and as much as they hated to admit it, it helped that Makarov was who he was to them. It helped them see what was happening. They decided to change the subject.

"The girl. Where is she?"

Makarov gave a low hum and leaned back in his seat casually, "You know you used to stand like that when you wanted a treat from a store. A bit of candy or something." They tensed a bit, quickly shifting their position to something different. It pulled a chuckle from Makarov and made their face burn an angry red, "I suppose all things change with time."

"The president's daughter," their voice was a bit harsher than they meant for it to be and they knew it was because of their father's taunting. They took a moment to calm themself, "Where is the president's daughter?"

"I miss the days when you were so little and starry-eyed," Makarov sighed wistfully, "You used to hang off of my arm."

"Answer the question."

"I wish that you would drop this act of rebellion," Makarov narrowed his eyes at them, "Finally come home. There is a welcome place for you right at my side. There is always a place for family."

"This isn't a rebellion!" Their hands clenched at their side. Despite the fact that their father was the one restrained, despite the fact that they were the one standing with supposedly all of the power in the room, they felt like a helpless child. There were warring feelings in their chest, anger toward their father, and an ache for the family that they loved and missed. This was the problem. Their father was a terrible person, they'd accepted that. It didn't mean that they didn't love him. It didn't mean that they didn't feel like a petulant child when their father scolded them like this. They hated it. "This is an interrogation and you are going to tell me what I want to know!"

They stepped closer to their father threateningly, but it only pulled a grin from Makarov. "Am I?"

"Yes!"

Makarov tilted his head at them and gave them a look of pity, "No, I don't think I am."

The sound of a loud pop met their ears and they quickly found themself surrounded by darkness. The only think they remembered after their vision went dark was a brief flash of their father standing over them and a hand briefly stroking over their forehead.

Price:

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"What?" Their head shot up from where they'd been furiously scribbling at their paperwork. Despite their hard scratches, they'd barely managed to get anything done with the reminders of their failed interrogation from the previous day. Their pounding headache and the cut along their face certainly weren't making it easy for them to forget.

Price stepped into the room slowly and closed the door behind hi.. There was a long moment where he just stood and watched them, unmoving. "You're Makarov's kid." They froze and their pen snapped in half in their hand. Price's eyes shot down to it before moving back up to watch their face. There was a long moment of tense quiet that fell over the room before, "The IT department was able to piece together a part of the footage from yesterday."

"Price," they started carefully, their voice quiet, "I don't-"

"Why didn't you tell us," Price asked again, stepping toward them carefully. His voice wasn't harsh. In fact, he sounded almost soft with the way that he spoke, "We wouldn't have sent you in if we knew."

"That's why I didn't tell you," they responded quietly. "I'm capable of doing the interrogations. I'm capable of doing the missions." Their voice steadily grew louder and louder, anger burning at them at the reminder of why they'd been so afraid to tell anyone in the first place. At the reminder of how their father's choices could impact their life so easily. "Just because he is my," they cut themself off with a growl before continuing, "my relationship with him doesn't change how well I can do my job! He's a terrorist, and no matter who they are, my job involves stopping terrorists."

Price settled for a moment, watching them closely. "You should have told us," he settled on after a moment. When they went to respond, they were met with a hand from Price, silencing them. "Not because I don't think you can do your job." Price moved around the table, settling next to them carefully, "Because if I had known, I never would have made you go into that room. Whether you can handle it or not, you shouldn't have to." He paused for another long moment, watching their reaction closely. "Are you alright?"

They had to think about the question for a long moment. Were they alright? After so many years, after hunting him with the rest of the team, after viewing him as nothing more than a dangerous and unhinged man, they'd come face to face with Makarov and were forced to acknowledge the relationship they had with him. Forced to acknowledge the fact that he was still their father and that, despite their best efforts, they still cared about him. They hated it. It had been tearing them up since the wall had been blown open and their father had escaped.

"I don't know," they finally settled on after a moment. They buried their face in their hands, shaking their head at themself. Their father was a terrorist. He didn't deserve their sympathy or love. They could hear Price shift and, a moment later, there was a hand rubbing against their back. "I should be fine. I should only be upset that he escaped but...I don't know. I haven't seen him in so long. Then...that."

Price was silent for several moments, just offering comfort with a hand on their back, rubbing soothing circles against their skin. They just sat like that for a moment and, despite the silence, it actually seemed to help. It was nice just to know that Price was there, to know that the other man cared enough to sit with them like this. "You know," Price started finally, "It's okay to care about him still. He's your family, whether you like it or not. You can care about someone and still know that they're a bad person. It doesn't make you a bad person."

"I don't know if that applies here," they snorted and looked up at Price with wet eyes, "he's a terrorist."

"And you recognize that," Price nodded to them, his face serious. "But you can't just expect all of the memories, all of the love, all of it to just disappear. It's okay." There was a short moment that passed before they were rushing up from their chair to wrap Price up in a hug, their face buried into his shoulder.

"Thank you," they managed to mumble out. They were still conflicted. they still felt guilty. They didn't think that would be going away any time soon. But it certainly helped to have someone like Price around to provide them with a bit of comfort in times like this.

Ghost:

"You know, hiding like this won't do anything for you."

They looked up from where they were moving boxes around, just glancing at where Ghost was leaning in the doorway, watching them as they moved around the room. "I'm not hiding," they called back, turning their attention once again to the boxes they were moving.

Niether themself or Ghost spoke for several moments. They continued moving boxes around the small record room, trying to avoid Ghost's gaze as he watched them. "So," Ghost started finally, "You aren't hiding you just...decided to reorganize the record room on your off time?"

"I'm not off," They responded, still trying to avoid the conversation that Ghost clearly wanted to have.

"You're on medical leave," Ghost responded easily.

"I'm trying to stay busy."

"Boring way to keep busy." They stopped suddenly, dropping the box they'd picked up back onto the table with a huff.

They turned to glare at Ghost, leaning against the box for support, "What do you want?" They threw their hands in the air, "If you're so certain that I'm hiding, why not leave me alone?"

"Because," Ghost pushed himself off of the wall and stepped fully into the room, casually walking toward them, "We need to talk about the fact that Vladimir Makarov is your father."

They tensed at the words, their face crumpling under the gaze of Ghost's unmoving mask. It was times like this that they hated Ghost's mask, times when they wanted to be able to read what their lieutenant was thinking but couldn't because of that stupid mask. They avoided his gaze, desperate to have something other than that blank mask staring at them.

"Look at me," Ghost ordered after a long moment of tense silence. They begrudgingly listened, turning their gaze to meet Ghost's eyes through the mask. "Why didn't you tell us?"

They didn't answer at first, they just clenched their jaw and resisted the urge to look away. "Does it matter?" They finally landed on, "I figure I'm fired anyway."

"Fired?" Ghost tilted his head at them, "Why would you be fired?"

They scoffed, "My dads a terrorist that we've been actively hunting and I never said anything. If that's not grounds for firing I don't know what is."

Ghost gave a low chuckle, "I will admit, it wasn't the best choice on your part, but you aren't fired." Their entire body seemed to deflate at the words and they were quick to lean against the table for support as relief flooded through them, "Is that why you've been hiding? Because you thought you were going to be fired?"

"Wouldn't you hide too?" They glanced at Ghost out of the corner of their eye, watching him carefully as he watched them. A moment passed before Ghost was moving forward to wrap a comforting arm around their shoulders.

They were frozen at the move. It wasn't often that Ghost did anything like this, so, in the moment, it was a surprise to them. After a long tense moment they relaxed into his arms, accepting the comfort that he was trying to offer them. "Our team," Ghost spoke quietly, "We're a family, you understand that? You're family, no matter where or who you came from."

They tucked closer to Ghost's chest at the words, trying to fight back the tears stinging at their eyes. It was nice to hear those words from Ghost, to be reassured that, just because the team knew the truth, didn't meant that anything would change.

"You know we're still going to have to talk about you keeping this a secret, right?"

"I know," they spoke quietly, "I know."

Ghost gave a short nod, but didn't say anything else. He just continued to press them tight to his chest in a comforting hug.

Gaz:

"Hey, are you in here?" Gaz slowly opened the door to their room. He'd been knocking for the past minute with no response, so he'd decided the best option would be to just open the door and see if they were inside or not.

Their bedroom was dark with all of the lights in the room turned off and any of the windows blocked by heavy blackout curtains. For a brief moment, he was sure that they weren't in the room and that he'd been told wrong by Price, that disappeared when he saw the crumpled lump on their bed.

He gave a deep sigh, a small bit of amusement running through him at the sight of what was clearly his friend tucked into a ball under their sheets. "Were you ignoring me?" he asked after a moment.

"Go away," They groaned from the bed, "I don't want to talk to anyone."

"You can't just sulk in here all day," Gaz moved toward the bed and carefully lowered himself to sit next to them. He didn't try to coax them out from under the blanket, not yet. "I know that the past few days have been hard, but-"

They snorted from under the blanket, "Hard? My dad, a terrorist, kidnapped the Russian presidents daughter, allowed himself to be captured as a distraction and to taunt me and managed to get away completely free. What did I get out of it? A concussion and a scolding from Laswell and Price for not telling them anything. Hard is too light of a descriptor."

Gaz winced a bit, "At least we found the president's daughter?" His word were met with a groan and a hand shooting out to grab a pillow and smack him with it. He gave a short chuckle before leaning back against the bed, purposefully laying over their legs. "You have to understand how we feel, though, right?"

"I know," Their voice was quiet and it sounded weak to Gaz's ears. "I understand if you guys hate me. I know I shouldn't have lied."

"We don't hate you," Gaz assured quickly, "It's just shocking is all. I mean, I personally was firmly on team Makarov is definitely a virgin," he was smacked with a pillow again. Gaz gave a laugh and, even though they tried to hide it, he could feel laughter shaking their body as well. "Also you two just," he shrugged, "don't seem very similar."

"You'd be surprised," they muttered from under the sheets, "I actually take after him in a lot of ways. It's just I'm not a terrorist."

"Well," Gaz grinned, "personally I'm glad to hear that." There was another long moment of silence that sat between the two. They stayed buried under their blankets as Gaz stared up at the ceiling, trying to decide what to say. "You know we don't hate you? Right? None of us do."

They shifted under the sheets and were quiet for a long moment before responding, "Why don't you? I lied. My dad's a fucking terrorist."

"Your dad is a terrorist," Gaz agreed, "You aren't. You can't choose who you were born to. I'm sure if you could, you'd have chosen some celebrity and be living a life of luxury right now." They gave another small laugh from under the covers at those words and Gaz considered it a success. "And, well, we understand why you lied. We might not like it, but we understand. Just, uh, please tell me that your uncle isn't like...a war criminal or something?"

They gave another laugh at the words, "Don't worry, my dad is the only fucked one in the family."

"That's a relief."

The two stayed like that for several more moments. Gaz didn't move, he planned to stay as long as he needed to. As long as it took to cheer them up. After a few minutes, they slowly poked their head out from under the covers, their eyes meeting Gaz's carefully. "Thank you, for this."

"It's what friends are for," Gaz gave them a soft smile. They returned it with one of their own.

Soap:

"You really shouldn't be here," Soap's voice was filled with concern, but they ignored it and continued doing their reps, sweat dripping down their face. "Didn't the doctor say you had a concussion? The last think you should be doing is lifting heavy shit right now."

They gave a deep sigh and racked the weights they were lifting to slowly push themselves into a sitting position on the weight lifting bench. they turned to glare lightly at Soap, a sigh leaving their lips. "I need a distraction."

"There are safe ways to be distracted," Soap responded, stepping closer to them. He was in his own workout gear, likely having come to the little gym on base for his daily session.

"You're right," They responded, standing up from the bench, "I'll go to the gun range instead."

Soap snorted, "Yeah, I'm sure that will be great for the concussion too." He gave a sigh and crossed his arms over his chest, watching them closely. "You know you don't have to do this, right?"

"What?" They responded, grabbing their water and towel. They had an idea of what Soap was talking about, but it really wasn't something they wanted to discuss at the moment. Really, they would probably prefer it if they never had to discuss it again.

"This," Soap motioned to them, "The training and the pushing yourself. I can see what you're doing. You should be resting." He sent them a stern look that really wasn't befitting of him.

"Alright, captain," they rolled their eyes, "I'm not doing anything. I'm just trying to find a distraction, something to pass the time. No need to look into it so much."

It was Soap's turn to roll his eyes at them, "You really think I'm going to buy that?" He gave a deep sigh and stepped forward to put his hands on their shoulders and guide them to sit back down on the weight bench, "Listen, I get that you're upset with yourself and you're blaming yourself."

"Soap-"

"But what happened wasn't your fault, okay?" Soap shook his head at him slowly, "It could have happened to any of us. And if it was any of us but you, I hate to say it but we'd probably be dead right now."

They clenched their jaw and looked away from him. "I should have known what he was doing," they tightened their fists into a ball, "I did know what he was doing and I still couldn't do anything to stop him." They looked up at Soap with harsh eyes, "What good am I to the team if I can't keep my head on straight when he's around?"

"Don't talk like that," Soap dropped into a squat in front of him, his eyes soft as he spoke, "You weren't prepared, none of us were. We all should have been paying more attention, we all should have known that something was going on." He shook his head and took one of their hands into his own, giving it a comforting squeeze, "You can't blame yourself."

"I'm," they hesitated for a moment, "I'm worried. What if he's able to get to me again? When it's more serious?" He shook his head at Soap, "I can't let that happen. I can't put you guys in danger because I can't get past my relationship with him."

"And you won't," Soap assured, "The next time we run into your father, we'll all be more prepared. You won't be alone. We'll be there to keep him from getting in your head." He gave another squeeze to their hand, "You just have to trust us."

There was a moment of silence between the two for a few moments. Finally, they nodded. "I trust you guys," their words were quiet, but they pulled a grin from Soap. "Thanks, you know, for this."

Roach:

"Course, that's what I'm here for." Soap popped up to his feet and held a hand out to help them up, "Now, come on, I say we go get something sweet and see if we can talk Gaz into letting us bully him on Mario Kart."

There was a hesitant knock on their door and they wanted to groan. They knew that it had to be another member of the team come to try to talk to them. The other members of the 141 had been trying for hours to get them to come out of their room, but they'd turned them all away. They didn't want to talk to them. They didn't want to have to explain.

"Go away!" They called, frustration eating at them.

"It's me," they recognized the voice as Roach's immediately.

"I said go away," they huffed, "tell Price that I'll come out to talk when I'm ready."

There was a quiet moment before Roach was calling, "I'm not here to talk about that, not unless you want to. I brought you food."

That caught their attention. They hadn't left their room in hours, too afraid of being cornered by the team. While it had worked great at keeping the team away, it had left them feeling terribly hungry. So the idea of food, food made by Roach especially, sounded incredible at that moment.

"Promise that you actually have food and aren't just trying to get me to open the door?" They stood from their bed and hesitantly started over, waiting for a response from Roach before actually letting him in.

"I promise," Roach called back. "I even brought dessert and drinks."

With those words they were quick to open the door and tug Roach inside, closing and locking it behind him. "Thank god, I'm starving." They were quick to grab the little bag that Roach was carrying and take off toward the small table in their room, unloading the several containers of food, drinks, and plates that Roach had packed for them. "You're a life saver."

"Yeah," Roach chuckled nervously, "Well, I may have lied a bit."

They looked up at him, betrayal on their face, "You're here to talk about my dad, aren't you?" Roach nodded slowly, an apologetic look on his face. "Traitor," They gave a sigh and collapsed into a seat at the table, "I can't believe you would use food against me like this."

"I'm sorry," Roach moved to sit next to them, "it was the only way I could think to get inside. But, hey," he slid one of the containers of food toward them, "Won't it be easier to talk about with a baked potato and steak to eat while we do it?"

They groaned a bit and took the container from him to begin loading food onto their plate. Roach was right, at least if he had to talk about it he could have some good food to go with it.

"Alright," they didn't speak until they finally had all of their food laid out and could start digging in to the meal, "Go on, ask what you need to."

"Why didn't you tell us that Makarov is your dad?" Roach spoke through eating his own food, digging into his own steak casually, as though he wasn't asking them such a loaded question.

They sighed, taking a few bites before responding, "I was worried Price would take me off of the missions. That he wouldn't let me help." There was a moment of silence where the two just ate, letting the words sit between them. "I want to help take down my father."

Roach watched them closely as he took a drink, just observing their face to try and read if what they said was the truth or not. "That's a lot," he finally landed on, "I mean...no matter what, he's your dad, right?"

"He's a terrorist," they snapped quickly.

Roach held his hands up in surrender. "I know that and I know that you know that," he clarified, "it doesn't change the fact that he's still your father." He paused for a moment before adding, "You know it's okay for this to be hard for you, right? None of us are going to judge you struggling with this. We're not going to doubt your ability to do the job."

They seemed to deflate at those words, all of the fight gone from their system. "I don't want to let you guys down."

"You aren't going to let us down," Roach's tone was serious. "You're strong, I've got faith that you can handle this. I just want to make sure that you know that you don't have to handle it. You don't have to be strong."

"I know," their voice was quiet, it was clear that Roach's words had helped a bit with the worry that seemed to be plaguing them. They'd managed to calm down enough to continue talking through the issue with Roach, venting their frustrations as they ate.

At the end of it all, they felt a million times better about everything. Roach had reassured them and talked things over with them. "That was a lot," Roach clicked the lid back on to one of the food containers, packing everything up. "I'm proud of you for talking about it."

"Thanks," they gave him a slight smile, "I feel a lot better. Thanks for listening."

Roach gave them a bright grin, "Of course, I'm always willing to listen. Now," he pulled another container from the bag and pulled the lid off, holding it out to them, "How about some cookies to make you feel even better?"

#gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #call of duty #captain john price #john price #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #captain john price x reader #gary roach sanderson x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gender neutral reader #task force 141 x reader

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marymary-diva17 · 8 months

Text

Missing you

sully family x human daughter

The omatacayia had been given refugee by the metkayian, leaving their home still had their effects on the people but leaving family and friends hurt the most. The sully family was doing their best to hold everything together with the absences of their eldest daughter, who was back home dealing with the RDA and anything else that will bring danger. Even due you had made a mature decision your family, was still missing you because without you, they felt like the family wasn't fully complete.

It has officially been months since the omatacayia made their new lives here in the ocean. The sully kids were doing well in their lessons since their arrival to the metkayain, even due they were getting use to their new home they still missed their old home but mostly they missed you. The eldest daughter of the family who carried her own responsibilities and knew how to care for all her siblings to her older brother to her baby sister.Today the sully kids were hanging out with their three new friends, as they were all doing some lessons but took a break.

Tisreya " see a break is something we all needed you all have been doing very well, you are starting to master the ways of water" the group are sitting on a flat large stone in a circle, and tisreya had diced to praise them for their work.

lo'ak " thank you tisreya"

rotxo " hey why don't you guys tells us about your clan or your home, us three have never been to the forest in our lives"

kiri " it a very beautiful place with so much wonder to it there is always something new happening with the forest, and always a set for adventure"

rotxo " wow"

lo'ak " we lived in a big tree that we called home tree it was big it held all our whole village"

tisreya " your home sounds so beautiful" the sully kids enjoyed talking about their home, and the the three metkayian teens were enjoying here about the forest.

tuk " we will always go out explore with our friends, and if we were not exploring we were playing games our mom and dad helped us learn" Tsireyahad noticed all the sully siblings seem to have these matching arm bands, that had gotten her attention. The arm bands were so beautiful and seems t be perfectly made.

Tsireya " hey I really love your guys arm band that are so beautiful and perfectly made did one of your made them or your parents" the sully kids soon looked at their arm bands these bands had been made by you. Your sibling always love anything you made them and will wear it until it was old and needed to be replace.

lo'ak " they are made by someone special to us"

aonung " oh come on that all what you are going to tell us nothing else" aonung was soon hit by his sister who gave him a look to be nice to the sully kids.

rotxo " we are sorry if you don't want to tell us we completely understand" all the sully kids had looked at each other and soon looked at neteyam, as it seemed like he was the one who was elected to be the speaker of the group.

neteyam " these had been made by someone who mean ad great deal to your family and clan"

Rotxo "where is this special someone if you don't mind me asking"

lo'ak " she away that the moment but will be back soon we hope"

Tsireya " you can tell us more about if you wish but you don't we completely understand"

neteyam "well she is nice always helping out anyone in the clan, that was her be a helper"

kiri " she is very smart and understanding she was seem to understand the ways of eywa, and loved to learn more she has a thirsty for knowledge"

lo'ak " she is funny always finding ways to make us laugh, and she knew the right words to say when we were sad"

tuk " she was very caring always being there for the me and the younger kids, she made the days fun and will always telling us stories about far away places and legends"

Tsireya " she sounds like a wonderful person I hope one day we can meet her"

kiri " yes we have to hope we will be able to see her again" the conversation had soon ended and lessons had started up once again it seems, liking talking about you and greatly effected your siblings. They were missing you and without you they didn't full like the whole sully kids as they were missing one number.

later that night

neytiri " dinner will be ready soon can you all help get everything set"

neteyam/loak/ kiri " yes mom"

neytiri " y/n my daughter can you come help me for a bit ...." neytiri soon caught herself she was calling our for her daughter who was not with her.

kiri " mom I can help"

neytiri " thank you my sweet daughter"

neteyam "mom"

neytiri " it okay I'm fine kids"

lo'ak " mom we all miss her"

neytiri " I miss her as well she still my baby even due she growing up"

????? " hey I'm home" everyone soon looked and saw Jake standing there with mo'at they were able to tell what was the matter.

Jake " you all miss her as well"

lo'ak " yes dad we left her and I know she wanted us to leave, but I wish we still took her with us ... took all o them with us"

Jake "it okay my boy it okay" Jake had comfort his son he was also missing his daughter.

mo'at " I miss her as well but I know she as fighting spirt, we have raised her well and the great mother will keep her and everyone else safe"

neytiri " I know I should respect my children decisions in life but this was one time I wanted to fight her about what she was doing"

Mo'at " neytiri"

neytiri " no mother I know she a teen and has rights to voice her feeling and make her own decision but until she and adult, and make her own life I will still care about her even after she an adult and have her own life"

Jake " honey calm down our girl decide to stay as she knew what was bets for the people they all decide to stay, we will see her again I know it"

neytiri " yes ma Jake" soon loak had started laughing getting everyone attention.

kiri " why are you laughing"

lo'ak " I remembering that day when y/n came to save dad, uncle tsutey and the some warriors when they got trapped in some sap ... that was so funny on how they all came back looking a complete mess" soon everyone but Jake started laughing remembering that day as you had helped them that day, as you were the one that didn't get trapped.

Jake " she lectured me for hours that day saying I was being stupid"

neytiri " you all were being a fool and she was right"

Jake " you are right I remember the day she helped your kids out of the whole you fall into"

kiri " it was the day after we made fun of her for falling into one, I told her how much a fool do you have to be to fall inside one" the family started laughing even due you are human there had been many times, where you had come to their rescue.

tuk " can we make y/n some jewelry and clothing for when she gets here as welcome gift"

neytiri " sure sweetie maybe we can talk to the other families as well, they might want to make stuff for their family members as well"

Jake " I will speak with tonowair and bring tsutey with me we will ask him, we been here for months we most take action sooner or later" the family had agreed on this movement as it has been long enough since everyone had seen each other, and no one wanted to be separated any longer as well.

with the human

y/n and spider " ........" you and spider had become shocked and quite after the scientists called you both to the, laboratory saying they needed to show you both something and that something are two avatar bodies that looked like the two teens.

Norm " congratulations on finally getting avatar bodies we know how much work you two have been doing, since the departure of everyone and we made these for you that night"

spider " are they really ours dad"

norm " yes they are and now you can live your lives like navi"

y/n " wow when can we try them out"

max " in a week and can we can see what you kids can do as navi" you and spider had smiled during this time when your guys family, were away both of your lives had changed dramatically. Now you two will be able to be navi and that made you both every happy.

#jake sully x daughter!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #neteyam sully #neteyam #loak x sister!reader #loak sully #kiri x sister!reader #kiri sully #neteyam x sister!reader #tuk x sister!reader #tuk sully #tuktirey #sully family x y/n #sully family #neytiri x y/n #neytiri #jake sully x y/n #jake sully

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julianalvarez9 · 1 year

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you over anyone / christian pulisic

request: Hey can you do a BESTFRIEND to lovers imagine about Christian pulisic thats about one day he gets a gf and she’s rlly mean to the bestfr and he dosnt believe her and then he overhears the gf being rude and it’s all fluff and they kiss

word count: 1.9k

author's note: i never had written this much before???? clearly got too carried away lmao. hope you like it!! has some back and forth in the "timeline", italics are supposed to be memories!

being mason’s twin, and five minutes younger than him, it was no surprise to anyone when you started to follow him around everywhere he went, like a lost puppy. for the first few years of your life, he was your best friend, just as you were his. growing up as obsessed with football as him was a natural progression, and fully expected after seeing how much you enjoyed playing ball with your brother and his friends.

that's how you first met christian.

"hey, y/n, is it cool if we pick up a friend? his car bro-" mason tried to explain, as if you could get mad at him for helping a friend out. you were arriving early to training anyways, so picking up his friend wouldn't do any damage.

"it's okay, mason, it's your car" you laughed, still appreciating the fact that he was asking for your approval before actually doing it, making sure that you were comfortable.

since that day, even when his car was fixed, christian would always tag along you two for a ride to cobham. at first, he started making excuses, trying to not raise suspicions about his sudden interest in joining his friend to go to training. then, the visits to your brother’s house started growing exponentially, wishing and waiting that, someday, you'll be there. and when you were, the day just couldn't get any better for him: watching movies, playing games, cooking and eating the cookies he wasn't supposed to eat -because of his diet- only to hear your laugh was the highlight of his day. and because mason, who was involved since the beginning, -unfortunately for you two- had eyes and ears, he could see how you two looked at eachother and how you laughed harder when it was one of you that told the joke, even if they weren't half as funny. all of these facts he recollected quietly, helped him figure out what was happening quickly. quicker than the protagonists, at least.

"is there something going on between you and my sister ?" he asked suddenly, one day after training.

christian could feel how the blood drained from his face, leaving his whole upper body cold. he thought that, maybe, he could have a month or two more before confronting his friend about it. bust most importantly, before confronting his own feelings. after all, he had started dating a girl a few weeks before meeting you, and he felt like an asshole. she was nice, sure, but she wasn't you.

"we're just friends, mate. why?"

he smiled, nodding, like he had answered correctly. at least, it was the answer mason wanted to hear. he said, in a jokingly tone, shoving him softly, "great. didn't feel like murdering my best friend for cheating on his girlfriend with my sister, you know?".

you had met christian's girlfriend, avery, at a game held at the bridge. you used to be there every game you could, always cheering for your brother and your best friend, but it was that particular game the first time that you saw her there, even when you knew that they had been dating for quite a bit. still, when you saw the girl, you understood why he had chosen her: she was like a dream, taken right out of a hollywood movie. but not only because of her perfect, model-like figure: she seemed sweet and kind, a girl perfect for christian, who, in your eyes, deserved nothing but the best. you were actually excited to have finally met her, hoping to get a girl friend to hangout with, someone who you could talk about your love life without feeling weird about it, like it happened when you tried to talk about love with your american friend sometimes. you had started off on a good foot, and christian was glad to see you two getting along.

you had disappeared to the bathroom quietly during halftime, wanting to come back as fast as possible to not miss anything. apparently, christian's significant other had gotten the same idea, entering the bathroom a few minutes before you, just as you were about to exit the cubicle. you could hear her and her friend, who she came along with, talking about someone, so you didn't dare come outside just yet, opting to stay quietly.

wrong choice.

you guessed that her friend was the one talking, since you didn’t quite recognize her voice. "who's that girl that's been screaming nonstop?", she said, and you cringed internally when you realized that it was probably you. confirmation hit a few seconds later, when avery shared the information with her.

"that's christian's best friend".

she giggled, loud and obnoxious, like the mean, popular girls in teenage drama movies did. "god, she's so annoying". you figured it was too late now to get out of the cubicle, even if you didn’t want to hear more about their conversation, fearing you could learn what she really thought about you. oblivious to your presence in the room, the other girl continued. "did you see how long she hugged him before he left? she's 100% in love with him" she joked, and even when you knew that it was a lie -at least, that was what you told yourself each time someone commented about your relationship with christian-.

the self doubt started to hit harder when the girl you had just met, who pretended to be friendly with you, continued to tell her friend what she had learned from your previous encounter. "i know, right? i just met her and i already can't stand her".

god, why were they taking so long? why couldn’t they just leave?

you didn't want to know more information, you had learned enough to last you a lifetime. certainly, enough to keep your distance with avery.

and with christian too.

"if she bothers you that much, why don't you make him choose?" her friend suggested, and your racing thoughts feared that she already had delivered her ultimatum. after all, she was his girlfriend, and it was a no-brainer that he would choose her.

and when you thought that, surely, it couldn't get worse, it did.

"it's insignificant, really. he'll never pick her. he already told me she's mason's little sister, so she's like a little sister to him too".

getting out of the bathroom just in time before the whistle blew, indicating the start of the second half, and having to sit next to avery and offer her a smile, was one of the hardest things you had to do. at least, during that day.

after the incident, you decided to keep your distance. no longer going to the bridge in fear of crossing paths again and having to pretend that you didn’t hear what she said, putting on a friendly mask, was enough to convince you that it wasn’t your place anymore. it had been difficult to justify your choice with christian, who inquired you about it the first weekend you missed, and they unfortunately had lost the match. eventually, you figured that you couldn't lie to him about being sick every weekend, so you made something up, like your schedule with college had just gotten too crazy to handle in the last couple of weeks.

mason, knowing you like the palm of his hand, didn’t buy it. but he also knew that he shouldn’t push it, and you would, in due time, tell him what was going on. he was your twin brother, after all. you couldn’t hide the truth from him forever.

that was how you ended at christian’s birthday party, without wanting to. all thanks to your brother’s persuasion.

it had started well, really. you had greeted the birthday boy when you two arrived at his once, but since then, he seemed to have banished from the face of the earth, and you, for once, were glad with his disappearance.

to endure the night, you had resolved to alcohol, which proved to have been not the wisest decision when it was time to meet with christian again, all warnings made by your sober brain about not going near him, in case his girlfriend was close, flew right through the wind when the first drop of alcohol entered your bloodstream. that was how you ended up dancing with him, maybe a bit too close to be excused as just friendly.

"stay away from him" a female voice was heard from behind you when you went to grab another drink. in your drunk, slurred brain, you couldn’t decipher who she was referring to, even if you recognized it was avery speaking. "what? from who?".

the girl rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed at your ignorance. "don't play silly now. you know christian's with me. he's about to propose, and there's no place for the both of us, so back off. I don't care that you're his fucking best friend or whatever shit you made him believe. he'll never chose you over me".

the harshness in her tone had drained the alcohol out of your system, and you found yourself to be in an awkward position after processing what she had just said.

proposing?

unknown to you, christian was looking for you, since you had disappeared from his sight for far too long. when he saw the two of you, a confused expression was painted on his features, and his anger grew at hearing what she was telling you, even if he just got to catch the last part. "what the fuck are you talking about, avery?".

"I'm sick of her. you'll have to choose. it's me or her".

he frowned at her request, but still made his way over to you, standing so close that you could feel his chest touching your back. "i thought that i had made it clear that we’re over" he coldly said. the girl in front of you let out a furious scream, face turned red, and shoving whoever came in her way, earning herself some nasty glares. clearly avery had thought that you were the reason behind their breakup, but honestly, you had no idea that they weren’t together anymore, after almost totally cutting contact with him to avoid her. nevertheless, her plan of getting to talk to you alone and draw you away from him had clearly backfired.

“why didn’t you tell me before that she was mean to you?” christian said, with a stoic expression. you shrugged, “thought that you would have believed her instead”. he shaked his head in clear disagreement, questioning you again. “was she the reason you stopped going to the matches?”. having never been capable of lying to christian, even if it would be wise to hide the information to him, you conceded. “you’ve caught me”.

mason, who was hearing everything at a prudent distance as to not be seen, joined you two before christian could actually react to what you just had admitted. “can you start going again then? christian can’t score a goal even if his life depended on it if you aren't cheering him on from the stands,” he grinned, cheshire cat’s smile painted on his face, as he saw the faces of the two people that he appreciated the most, a shade of red. “mason!” you two groaned in unison, embarrassed at how the english one had put you on display.

#christian pulisic x you #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x y/n #football x y/n #football x reader #football imagine

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 1 year

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Blind Dates and One Night Stands [Frankie x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (cishet f!reader)

Warnings: reader wears a thong, cunnilingus (duh, it's frankie!), piv sex, multiple orgasms, frankie is flustered and cute!, but also smoldering and hot! safe sex, also frankie is a big boy but we already knew that, some drinking but not too much.

Summary: Frankie has a blind date that doesn't work out, but maybe the night goes well anyway?

Words: 3,639

A/N: I feel like I haven't written in months, but that's not entirely true. I feel rusty, however. I hope you like this.

Update: There is a sequel! One Night Stands and Phone Numbers.

Frankie's leg is vibrating restlessly, feet perched on the metal footrest of the bar stool. He takes his cap off, swipes his hair to the side, and puts it back on, then takes it off again. Maybe he shouldn't be wearing a hat, it's impolite. But without a cap, he feels formal, and he doesn't want that. He puts it back on, then glances at his wristwatch.

She's late.

Cursing out Benny again for this idea, Frankie shakes his head at the bartender who looks at him with a raised eyebrow. No, he's not ordering yet. He has to wait for his date, the woman Benny set him up with. "She's cute, blonde, and friendly," his younger comrade in arms had reassured Frankie. "You need someone to take care of you, or at least get laid."

Frankie had finally agreed to meeting the woman, if only to get Benny off his case. But he was starting to regret it.

He regrets it even more when the woman finally shows up. She's nice enough, and definitely cute, but Frankie can tell almost immediately that this is not going to work. She seems to want to make an effort, though, and he chides himself for not just excusing himself and putting a stop to this.

Because he doesn't put a stop to it, he ends up sitting with her through two orange umbrella drinks, while he himself nurses a beer. At some point his date seems to understand that there's no future for the two of them, downs the rest of her drink, and calls her friend who's been on stand-by to drive her home if the need arose.

Frankie very dutifully gives her a quick hug and watches her leave the bar before he sighs deeply.

Another one bites the dust.

He takes his hat off, runs his fingers through his hair, scratches the back of his head. This is getting exhausting. Sure, not everybody gets to experience the love story of the century, but how is even just a night of good sex with a nice person so hard to reach?

Leaning against the counter, he gets the attention of the bartender, and orders a Scotch. Might as well get fucked up.

"Comin' right up."

You pour the man whose broad shoulders are hunched in defeat a whisky. He wanted it neat, and you make it a double because you feel so sorry for him.

"On me," you say as you place the glass in front of him. His eyebrows shoot up and you give him a lopsided smile.

"That was a terrible first date."

"First and only," he confirms.

"Good," you nod. "Never waste any more time on bad dates."

"I'll drink to that." He lifts the glass and nods at you. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Over the next couple of hours, you return to the guy with the Standard Oil baseball cap to chat between customers. He's easy to talk to, drinks slowly, is interesting and funny - and really handsome. You feel his gaze on you when you pull beers for the increasingly inebriated crowd, and you find yourself wishing that his eyes could be on your ass (which looks really good in these jeans) and not on the back of your head. It's speaks for him that he clearly finds your intelligence attractive as well, but there's something about him that makes you want him to look at your body and go, "damn".

A quick glance at the clock on the wall tells you that you'll be closing in two hours, and the customers are already thinning you. You sway your hips as you do a lap around the room to pick up empty glasses and wipe down a couple of tables, and when you return to the bar, you find the man staring at you, just like you wanted him to.

And it turns you on more than you could have imagined.

You decide to employ a cheap trick, so when you come back around the bar for a chat, you bend over it for a lazy lean that displays your rack. You even fold one arm underneath your tits and frame them with the other, coquettishly propping your chin on your hand. And bless him, he looks you straight in the eye even with the soft swell of your tits right in front of him. You detect a hint of color on his cheekbones, though, and it makes you like him even more. He's a gentleman, perhaps even shy.

When it's time to close, he stays behind to help you stack chairs on the tables. He easily keeps up the conversation - the topic is baseball, turns out both of you played in high school - and eventually accepts your offer of a nightcap. You hop up on one of the barstools, a whisky in hand, and he slides onto the seat of the one next to yours.

"How did you find her?" you ask, sipping your drink. He raises an eyebrow, not understanding, so you make a gesture in the general direction of the stool where his date from earlier tonight sat.

"Oh. Right. Um, buddy of mine set it up. He thought it was a good idea."

"Your buddy is a terrible matchmaker," you judge. He laughs.

"That he is, but he means well."

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions, isn't that the saying?"

"I guess it is."

You take another small sip of your whisky, feeling it burn all the way down to your belly. It might be the sleep deprivation in combination with the alcohol, but you blurt out:

"You might still get lucky too, if you play your cards right."

He raises his chin a little as he stares you down. "I've never been good at playing cards."

"That's a shame," you shrug, feeling your cheeks heat.

"So, for the sake of just speeding this up... what do I have to do to get permission to kiss you?"

Your heart is beating so hard and fast that you almost feel light-headed.

"You just need to ask," you manage, your voice a little shaky. He smiles, and it doesn't look like the confident grin of a player, no, he looks like a little boy who just found out he could have another cookie.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks quietly, and he barely has time to make his request before you're nodding:

"Yes!"

The relief is plain to see, and he slides down from the barstool so that he can get closer to you. When he leans in, you can smell his cologne, and when he very gently puts his hand on your arm, you can feel him tremble a little.

There is something about the tentative teasing of his lips, the bristles on his upper lip, the fullness of the lower one that drives you wild. You're usually not this forward with a complete stranger - you realize that you haven't even asked his name yet - but it's like he makes something just snap in you.

"What's your name?" you ask, and he blushes slightly. Shit, that's hot.

"Frankie," he introduces himself, and you taste his name, let the syllables roll off your tongue, before telling him yours.

And then you kiss him, devour his mouth, take his hands, and place them on your ass, thread your fingers through his hair. His hat falls to the floor somewhere behind him, and he's kissing you back, like he wasn't all blushing and timid only moments earlier. He grabs handfuls of ass and squeezes, pulls you snugly against himself. He's getting stiff, and there's something so primal and pure in that. You're just two people meeting each other by chance and being turned on by each other, and it spurs you into making him harder, so you eagerly rub yourself against him. He moans into the kiss, and it's the sexiest sound you've ever heard. You tear your mouth from his and meet his gaze that is somehow both hazy and intense. Your hands land on his belt buckle.

"Can I?"

"Please."

So polite. You tear open the belt buckle and his fly, and Frankie wants to reciprocate.

"May I?" he asks, as if you aren't ripping his jeans to shreds. You grin.

"Absolutely."

His gaze drops down to your fly as he deftly undoes the button and pulls down the zipper. His breathing is audible, just like yours, and then his hand is down the front of your ass-hugging jeans. One long finger is pressed along your slit, the tip teasing in between your warm, damp folds.

You catch your lower lip between your teeth and exhale in a small moan. So eager that you're almost too rough, you shove your hand down his underwear to find a thick, stiff shaft.

Oh. Working his jeans and underwear down his ass cheeks, you release his cock, eyes widening when you see it.

Frankie notices your reaction.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you assure him, "it's just... you're really big."

He slides one finger inside you as he leans in and nuzzles your neck, before touching his lips to your ear: "Don't worry, I'll make sure you're wet enough to take me."

You are shaken to the core by the smooth rasp of his voice, the words, the way he now inches his finger into you.

"Please do," you manage, and Frankie pulls his hand out of your pants. He grabs you by the waist and hoists you up on the barstool. You hold onto his shoulders, so wide they take up almost all in your vision field, so very secure and you imagine that they're perfect to hold on when life is stormy, and you need something stable in your life. He devours your mouth again, kisses you full of his whiskey breath before he asks you, in that same raspy, low voice that makes the hairs stand on the back of your neck:

"Can I go down on you?"

Mutely, you nod, and he helps you to get rid of your jeans. You're wearing a thong, not your usual underwear but there's just something about the way your ass looks in those jeans without any extra layer underneath, and you hook your thumbs under the thin straps, but Frankie shakes his head.

"Keep it on. Hold onto the counter. Careful, don't want you to fall."

Touched by his concern and turned on by his request to keep the flimsy garment on, you carefully lean back, supported by your elbows, on the bar. Frankie moves in between your legs, spreading them, and kisses you breathless again, before starting to trail kisses down your neck, over your cleavage, his hands pushing up your tits towards his eager lips and tongue. He then skips the part of you that's still covered by your shirt, and comes to his knees, putting him right in front of your displayed pussy. You wait with bated breath, sliding down a little on the stool to give him better access, your cheeks burning at the way he keeps intense eye contact with you. He has gorgeous eyes, beautifully brown, soulful, and absolutely filthy right now, with the way he stares right into your soul, like he's already fucking you. Gone is the bashfulness from before, and the change is thrilling.

"Is this okay?" he asks, still all polite as if he wasn't smirking like a little devil. You let out a breathless chuckle and try to sound sassy.

"You sure talk a lot."

"Hey, consent is sexy."

A retort is forming in your brain, but Frankie doesn't give you time to finish it: without breaking eye contact, he leans in and presses his mouth and chin to your dripping pussy, his tongue probing in between your slick lips. All you can produce is a choked gasp at the sudden intensity, and you grab hold of Frankie's thick hair as he lifts both your legs over his shoulders.

"You steady?" he wants to know, and you nod frenetically.

"Don't stop now."

He grins at you, and then he utterly rocks your world. The way he uses his tongue, his mouth, his prickly chin on you is goddamn magic, you've never had anyone eat you out like this before. He's everywhere at once but not in a disarrayed way, like he doesn't know what he's doing, oh no, he seems to know exactly what he's doing as he alternates with long, stiff licks along your slit, tongue dipping inside you before drawing out your juices and his saliva in a swirl around your clit, ending in a soft suckle, his mustache scratching you just right. His arms are around your thighs, holding you securely to him, and that's good because your arms aren't really doing their part anymore as you writhe on the stool, overcome by the fervor with which Frankie is pushing you towards a release that almost feels intimidating. Holy shit, he's going to kill you with this orgasm, oh God, oh shit, shit, shit, shit...

You don't realize that you've been going Oh God, oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck at a steady pace for a few minutes until the volume of your own voice becomes so loud that you yourself are startled by it. Frankie's now focused on your clit, tongue working faster than you thought was possible, and your hips have started to move, seeking more friction, more and more and more.

"I'm cumming," you announce in a shrill gasp, never once thinking about how stupid it sounds in porn when anyone with eyes can clearly see what's happening, no, you must let him know, Frankie has to know that you're about to come apart under his tongue, that he's making you cum now, right now -

The orgasm is just as intense as you feared, and so much better than you ever imagined. You're actually screaming, which has only happened once before and that was that time you got drunk on a Saturday night and edged yourself with your Magic Wand for hours before you finally let yourself orgasm.

When you come back to some form of rational thought, your eyes blinking open against the faint lights of the bar, your ass is cramping, and your neck is sore. Thighs shaking, you nudge Frankie away from you, and let your legs down, a whine finding its way over your lips when he gives your throbbing clit one last lick.

He grunts when he gets up from his knees, and you realize dimly that both of you are perhaps a little too old for acrobatics like these, but there is no mistaking his proud smile when he comes up to kiss you. His lips are unbelievably slick from you, and you hum into his mouth.

"Am I wet enough for you now?"

"So fucking wet, baby," he assures you in a voice that makes you clench. His cock is rock hard against your thigh, and you mumble something about condoms.

"I've got rubbers," Frankie immediately assures you, and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. You take the condom from him and take a firm yet gentle hold of his thick cock. Christ, but it's thick, this is going to be intense. Frankie's eyelids flutter and he lets out a groan when you slowly stroke him a couple of times before putting the rubber on. This is fun, you think with an evil grin, you could do a lot more damage to him if you weren't dying to have him inside you.

"There," you whisper, taking his cock and pushing your soaked thong to the side so that you can slide him through your lips to lube him up. "I want you to fuck me now, Frankie."

He captures your lips in a searing kiss as you nock him at your entrance and let him start inching into you. Even with how wet you are, and how slow he's going, he still takes your breath away.

"You can take it," he growls, his low tone vibrating through him and into you. "You're doing great, baby..."

Holding onto him, you lift your legs and wrap them around him, hooking your feet by his ass, to lessen the angle of entry, but it's still a tight fit, God, he's big but feels so good, you want him to fucking ruin you.

He pulls back a little before pushing back in, and your moan gives him pause.

"Am I hurting you?"

"You're just really big," you blurt out inelegantly, smiling a little at his expression of alarm mixed with pride. "Maybe if we try it from behind?"

He pulls out and turns the stool around. You lean forward and brace yourself against the counter as you slide yourself to the back edge of the stool, angling yourself right. Frankie finds you, pulls your underwear to the side, and pushes in. He can't get as deep this way, but he still takes your breath away.

"Fuck, that's better," you moan, "take me hard, this is perfect!"

He takes orders well. With his large hands on your hips, he quickly finds a devastating rhythm that creates a filthy song of his thunderous panting in your ear, your loud moans, the slapping of skin against skin with each impact of his hips against your ass. Possessed by a new urgency, he paws at your tits, shoves one hand inside your bra to free one breast from the cup, the other hand still holding on to your hip, fingers digging into the flesh. His breaths are burning your neck, his cock is working you mercilessly, thrust after thrust after rough thrust, as his groans rise to a growl. You release one hand from the counter and put it over his to make him squeeze your breast. You want him to bruise you, want to feel him on your flesh, in the grip of your hungry pussy when you wake up tomorrow - later today. You don't know him, but you want to, you've never felt this way before with anyone, it's never been this easy with anyone, this easy and overwhelming. Fuck, you might even be able to cum again.

You slide your hand down to your sensitive clit, bracing yourself with one arm on the counter, Frankie draping himself over you from behind, fingers roughly pinching your nipple.

"One more for me," he huffs, "that's a good girl."

You cum almost immediately, his praise working wonders for you. As your squelching pussy flutters around him, Frankie's loud moan joins your wail. His hips stutter, then still, and his forehead falls to your shoulder as he catches his breath. You're shivering, parts of you stiff from strange positions and holding on, other parts like jelly. As you draw a trembling breath, you realize that you've dribbled saliva from one corner of your mouth, and you quickly wipe at your chin and slip down from the stool. Your legs almost buckle under you, but Frankie quickly catches hold of you.

"Easy."

"Thanks," you mumble, suddenly a little embarrassed. You've never been good at good-byes after the few one night stands you've had. Your thong chafes, your crotch is soaked, and you're feeling a little uncomfortable as the passion wanes and you're starting to feel the late hour.

Frankie's hand rests on your waist. "You okay?"

"Yeah," you hurry to reassure him, "I'm just... tired. It's late."

"It is." He takes off the condom, ties it up, then looks around for a trash can, finding one a few steps away. Having disposed of the rubber, he tucks himself in, and pulls up his pants.

"I had fun, though," he offers, his voice soft. You're just stepping into your jeans, and as you pull them up, you return his shy smile. Look at that, all raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens again.

"So did I," you reply, meaning it. "I had real fun, I mean... it was really good."

Both of you finish getting dressed in silence, then you do your final checks for the night, cash up, and turn off the lights. Frankie's with you as you lock up, and then you turn to him.

"Well... my car's over there." You point in the general direction of your parked car. Frankie gestures towards it, inviting you to start walking.

"I'll follow you to it. Make sure you're safe and sound."

Such a gentleman. It's half a block on a silent, empty street that you've walked down countless times before, but you don't mind the company, not to mention the gesture.

You yawn widely when you reach your car, and Frankie immediately asks if you're okay to drive.

"Sure," you promise him with a tired smile, "this isn't my first night shift. I don't have a long drive home, anyway."

"I could drive you," he offers, but you just shake your head and shoot him a flirty look.

"Then you'll just want to come up for coffee, and we both know how that story ends."

He chuckles, looking down at the ground. When you reach your car, he looks at you shyly.

"I got two questions before I can let you leave."

"Shoot."

"One: can I kiss you? And two: can I have your number?"

You pout and tilt your head, as if deep in thought.

"Yes to the kiss."

He immediately leans in for a surprisingly sweet kiss that ends way too soon.

"And the number?"

You grin mischievously.

"Come back tomorrow night so I'll know you're for real. Then you'll get my number."

He laughs at that, then stands watch as you get into your car, and drive away.

The next afternoon when you return to work, you find his baseball cap on the counter where the cleaner left it.

Now he definitely has to come back.

#frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco frankie morales #my fic

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naughtyneganjdm · 4 months

Text

Naughty or Nice - Chapter 9

Summary: Negan makes a bold move after he learns that him and Y/N aren't as good at keeping things hidden as they thought. Beau gives something to Y/N that helps her learn more about her past.

Characters: Negan, the reader (OC), Beau, Erin, Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, etc.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51464518/chapters/133474246

Warnings: Swearing, fluff, severe angst, some smuttiness, etc.

Notes: Doing my best to finish this ASAP. Life has just been crazy busy lately. Thanks if you are still reading this!

“I wish I was half as brave as your son,” Y/N stepped in beside Negan while they were stopped at an interactive part of the trail. Negan was standing in front of the motion sensor display with Beau and Erin while a few of the others were further down. “I would have never had the guts to do something like that to my father when I was younger.”

“My son has got a sack on him,” Negan whispered, a small rumble of laughter falling from his throat when he thought about what his son had done earlier to clear the tension. “He’s the sweetest kid you will ever find, but he’s not afraid to make a point. And he was just putting your father in his place. It’s something I would have done as a kid, but I would have included a few choice words in there. That’s where his mom comes in. He’s got my rebellious side, but her talent to control a situation in a way that keeps everything calm.”

“I’m surprised my father took it so well,” Y/N heard Erin giggling when Beau did a dramatic movement causing the screen to react a certain way. “Beau sure does have a way with people.”

“That he does,” Negan agreed turning away from the screen to face her. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he tried warming them up since there was a cool chill surrounding them. When they got to the Christmas trail, it had started snowing a lot. There was a snowstorm that was headed their way tonight and while it made the light display more fun, it also was incredibly cold. “It was for you. I hope you know that. That’s not something that Beau would typically do, but he’s very unhappy with the way your father treats you. So he took that risk.”

“I know that he did that for me,” Y/N acknowledged, swallowing down hard when Beau looked back over his shoulder at the two of them. Beau reached down to pick Erin up in his arms while she clung to the polar bear stuffed animal that Y/N had bought for her. It was surprising what Beau was already willing to do in only knowing her a few days. “I wish we could talk about things.”

“We will talk about things later,” Negan stepped forward, speaking quiet enough for only her to hear. The expression over his face was mischievous with his thick eyebrows bouncing up. “We’ll have our time together later tonight.”

“I look forward to it,” she winked hearing the amusement in his laughter. Bobbing his head a bit, Negan turned on his heel and went to his children again. Standing back, she watched Negan interacting with his son and daughter. The way he played with them made her love him that much more. Looking to the right, she saw that Glenn, Maggie, Beth and Hershel were all standing by an oversized ornament light that was set up for people to take photos at. Maggie had instructed all of them to get close and Y/N felt a lump developing in her throat when they all took a selfie together. Seeing Hershel being so good to Glenn in comparison to her was no surprise. It was sad how the only place she felt like she belonged was with Negan’s family.

“Hey,” a voice spoke up drawing Y/N to turn around and see that Annette was standing with Shawn behind her. “Do you think we can talk for a minute?”

“I’ve got nothing but time,” Y/N offered up a weak smile and Annette looked to Shawn with a certain expression that led him to go toward the others that were in their group. Shifting on her feet uncomfortably, Y/N cleared her throat and sighed. It was hard looking at Annette after everything. The things that Hershel had said the night before were a constant repeat in her mind and they still hurt.

“I want you to know that I don’t agree with what Hershel said last night,” Annette explained, her voice quiet but loud enough for Y/N to hear. Annette shook her head and sighed, trying to gather her thoughts. “I know I’m not your mother, but I’ve been in your life since you were two years old. Believe it or not Y/N, blood related or not, you are my daughter. I’ve always viewed you like my daughter and I’ve always been proud of you. I don’t know why he says and does the things he does with you, but I don’t feel the way he does.”

“Thank you,” Y/N was at a loss for words hearing that coming from Annette. “I wish I understood why he was the way he was too.”

“There is a lot of good in your father, but the way he treats you is the one thing I will never begin to accept or understand,” Annette frowned, holding her hands in close to her chest when she stared out at Y/N with a sadness in her eyes. “I don’t know how much it means to you, but you are my daughter Y/N and I don’t want you leaving.”

“Wow,” Y/N felt her emotions getting the better of her after everything that had been happening over the last day. “You never realize how much you need to hear something until you actually hear it.”

“You should have been hearing it all along. I was always so afraid to step forward because I’m only your stepmother,” Annette began with a frown, her own emotions showing through now. “But you are my daughter Y/N. I shouldn’t have cared about stepping on toes. I love you and I hate the way he treats you.”

“I don’t have any negative feelings toward you,” Y/N promised knowing that it had to be hard being married to Hershel with his old-fashioned views and stubbornness in general. “I want you to know that. You were always a positive in my life. I think I owe you for me being in the industry that I am now. You used to always buy me those art supplies and it helped me more than you will ever know.”

“I just wanted you happy and that was the only time I saw you happy,” Annette reminded Y/N with a frown, her head lowering down in shame. “I should have called your father out on his behavior a long time ago. I was just raised a certain way and…”

“I don’t blame you for the way that he is Annette,” Y/N interrupted her stepmother knowing that she was upset by everything that had happened. “You’ve done the best you could with me. And I know that. You’re the closest thing to a parent I’ve ever had. You and Shawn always accepted me and I’ve always loved the two of you like you were my family.”

“I spoke to him last night about everything. I hated hearing what he said because none of it was true,” Annette declared with a shaken breath, stepping forward to reach for Y/N’s hands to give them a firm squeeze. “You didn’t make this family worse and we were sad without you. Beth, Shawn and I have always cared about you. We’ve been proud of you for so long.”

“Annette,” she felt a breath getting caught in her throat with the way that her stepmother was talking to her. Involuntarily, her bottom lip started tremoring and she nodded her head. “Thank you for saying that.”

“I mean it honey. Beth did this thing with my e-mail,” Annette motioned Y/N to wait, pulling one of her hands away from Y/N’s to dig for her phone that was in her pocket. Pulling it out, she stepped in beside Y/N while still holding her hand. “I guess there is a thing where if your name popped up in an article, it would go straight to my e-mail. I think she called it google alerts. So every time your name came up with a project or something about your art came up, I screenshot it. Beth told me I took too many screenshots and it was eating up my memory, but I didn’t want to get rid of it.”

Annette pulled open her gallery showing the screenshots that she had of Y/N’s work and the articles that had her name involved in it. It made her breathing grow louder seeing that Annette was the parent that she had so visibly wanted this whole time, “I never stopped being proud of you baby. I want you to know that. And I don’t want you to disappear from my life because I love you. We love you. Regardless of what your father says or does,” Annette allowed Y/N to grab her phone to look at the photos she had. Reaching out, she caressed in over the side of Y/N’s face and urged her stepdaughter to look at her. “I love all of you like you are mine and I would do anything for you.”

Instead of saying something, Y/N stepped forward to wrap her arms around Annette feeling an ache at the center of her chest. For so long she was so desperate for Hershel’s attention, but Annette was there the whole time being that parent she had always longed for. Annette squeezed her tightly in her arms and Y/N tried to gather herself knowing that Hershel was still there to see everything.

“You don’t always have to be the strong one,” Annette hushed Y/N when she went to pull away. Brushing away the tears that were over Y/N’s face made Annette sigh and she shook her head. “You’re human Y/N.”

“Thank you. I love you,” Y/N slurred, giving a firm nod to Annette. “I want you to be in my life too Annette. Even if daddy doesn’t want me in his. I love all of you very much. Even daddy. I don’t know why since he’s done nothing but break my heart, but I love him.”

“I know baby,” Annette was holding back her emotions as well while they stood in the snow together. “And I hope that one day he realizes the mistake he has made because you are everything that a parent could ask for and more. I didn’t know your mother, but I know that she would be proud of what you became. I know that because I’m proud of you. So proud of you.”

“I’m so sorry I took off,” Y/N whimpered, looking down toward the ground. “I left you and everyone else when I should have been here the whole time taking care of all of you.”

“We weren’t your burden to bear Y/N. You were always putting the weight of the world on your shoulders and life was already hard enough for you,” Annette hushed her, grabbing her hands again and giving them a firm squeeze. “Plus, I’m a tough lady. I can handle your father. I just always worried about you. Which is why I hope you will keep in contact with me this time. We can text. I’m not too bad at it you know.”

“Of course,” Y/N laughed feeling a sense of happiness with the way her stepmother was talking to her. “I love you.”

“I love you too honey,” Annette repeated taking a moment to let Y/N gather herself before Annette looked beyond them toward the rest of the group they were with. “He’s cute, isn’t he? He has nothing but heart eyes for you.”

“Glenn?” Y/N looked over her shoulder in the distance to see Glenn and Maggie laughing together. “Yeah, he’s a cutie.”

“I wasn’t talking about Glenn,” Annette claimed feeling Y/N’s fingers gradually loosening from hers when Annette’s gaze fell upon Negan. “You know. Before I was with your father, I was with someone else. I thought I had to stay with him because it would look bad if I left this man for another. What would my parents think?”

Silence followed. How was Y/N supposed to respond to that?

“I’m sure someone out there would have thought me getting with your father was wrong. After I had a relationship with that other man,” Annette went off about her past, gazing between Negan and Glenn. “I don’t blame you for falling for him. You work with him. He defends you like a man should. And the way he looks at you is breath taking.”

“Annette,” Y/N breathed out loudly knowing that Annette was referring to Negan and obviously knew what was going on with them. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I’m not saying a word,” Annette held her hands up and made a dramatic expression. “Although anyone with a lick of sense would know. Him and that boy, they both love you very much. And they don’t hide it.”

“I thought we were hiding things better,” Y/N confessed noticing Negan’s eyes locking with hers which had one of his charming smiles tugging at his handsome lips. There was a warmth that grew inside of her with that smile and it happened every time she saw it. “It was a mistake at first.”

“I don’t think it was a mistake,” Annette shook her head noticing the way that Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off Negan. “It was obviously meant to happen. You’re lucky to find that kind of love in this world. Don’t let it slip through your fingers because you think you have to do something a certain way because of how the world will perceive you. Because if I did that, I wouldn’t have you children in my life.”

“Even if it breaks our family apart again and I hurt a good man?” Y/N stammered, speaking quietly enough for only them to hear.

“You know Maggie. She’ll be fine,” Annette claimed with a loud sigh, clinging tightly to the jacket that she was wearing. “And Glenn? Well, I think it’s better for him to find out now than for you to force yourself to be with him and be miserable for the rest of your life. There were a few times that Glenn should have stepped up, the way any man would for the woman he loved, but it was Negan that did it. The two of you fell in love. Even if it wasn’t the plan, it’s there. I understand you not wanting to hurt anyone, but you’ve been hurting yourself long enough. Maybe it’s time for you to finally allow yourself to be happy for once.”

There was so much Y/N wanted to say, but nothing came out. So far Beau and Annette easily picked up on the fact that she was in an intimate relationship with Negan. What did that mean about everyone else in the family?

“Maybe we should go on and catch up with the rest of the group?” Annette suggested, stroking her hand over Y/N’s shoulders to try to calm her. “Just try to enjoy yourself honey and think about the things that I said.”

With a nod, Y/N felt a lump growing in her throat when Annette motioned her forward toward the group that was waiting on them to go further down the trail. If Annette was seeing the way things were with Negan and her, she wondered who else could tell what was going on. Staying back in the group, Y/N felt a sense of worry flooding her veins.

“It’s a couples photo set up,” Beth called out from where she was standing showing the oversized candy cane light up display that was set up on the trail in the shape of a heart. “Maggie, you should take a photo with Negan and Y/N you should take one with Glenn.”

“They have a lot of photo opportunities set up here,” Glenn mused, stepping in front of the light to look over it. Maggie was standing beside him when they looked at the lights. “It’s cute. And smart. People sure do love their social media moments that they can share.”

“Uh, Maggie,” Beth pointed toward the top of the light display to show that it had a mistletoe light that was joining it. “You and Glenn are underneath the mistletoe together.”

“And?” Maggie blurt out, her eyes lifting when the rest of the group approached them.

“You have to kiss the person you are with when you are underneath the mistletoe,” Beth informed her with a tiny laugh seeing that Glenn’s eyes immediately grew wide. “It’s tradition. It’s bad luck if you don’t.”

“I couldn’t…I couldn’t do that,” Glenn muttered in a nervous tone, immediately shaking his head attempting to back away from the situation. “That’s not why I stepped here and…”

“No one is asking you to French kiss her son,” Hershel chuckled with a shake of his head. “It’s just a kiss. Haven’t you heard of the bad luck that would happen if you don’t?”

“Daddy?” Maggie snapped nodding over toward Y/N, “I’m dating someone else and Glenn is engaged. Negan and Y/N are right there.”

“You wouldn’t want to face all that bad luck,” Negan mocked them with their comments, but he was saying it in a way that almost made it seem like he was agreeing with them. “Who am I to fuck with tradition Mags?”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Maggie frowned looking to Y/N to make some kind of comment, but instead her eyebrows bounced up and she shrugged her shoulders. “Y/N?”

“I mean, whatever,” Y/N didn’t know what to say. It was inappropriate to make them do that, but she wasn’t about to speak up in a negative light since there was already so much negativity put on her. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Fine,” Maggie huffed, motioning Glenn forward and he immediately shook his head. Holding his hands up, Glenn made it clear that he wasn’t okay with this whole thing and he was trying to find a way out of it. “Listen, I’ve had enough bad luck. Let’s just make this fast.”

“No,” Glenn denied Maggie the kiss that she was asking for, his eyes seemingly terrified at the idea. “I’m sorry, I just…”

Grabbing a hold of Glenn’s jacket, Maggie pulled him forward causing Glenn to stumble over his own two feet so she could pull him into a kiss. It had Glenn falling into her, but the kiss lingered on for a moment making the rest of the group silent when they parted from the kiss.

“Good lord honey, I was just pulling your chain,” Hershel exclaimed, the shock in his eyes showing that he was just teasing Maggie. Everyone in the group seemed surprised that she actually did that. “I didn’t actually think you would force yourself on that boy.”

“What?” Maggie snapped, releasing Glenn who was frozen after what happened. “What was that all about with bad luck?”

“I was just giving you a hard time honey. I didn’t actually think you would do that!” Hershel was being dramatic in the way he waved his hand about. Yet, he found amusement in the whole situation. Laughing out loud, he saw that Glenn was frozen and he looked lost. “Are you okay son?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m great,” Glenn stammered, finally breaking out of whatever kind of moment he was in. When he surveyed the group, his eyes fell upon Y/N and he immediately panicked. “I didn’t…I wasn’t…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Y/N waved her hand in the air dismissively hearing the snort that Negan made at what happened. Was she irritated with it? Yeah. She was. Not because she felt she had ownership of Glenn. At this point, she was very much in love with Negan and couldn’t wait to be with him. It was the fact that everyone else didn’t know that yet. They all knew about what Maggie had done with Shane. They heard it the night before, but they were egging Maggie on to kiss the man that they all thought she was engaged to. It was kind of fucked up. Along with the fact that Glenn didn’t seem to want to even do it in the first place. Her irritation was more so with her family and not Glenn. Even Negan was being a smartass about it previously and none of them caught on to him saying it was ridiculous suggesting that the two of them should kiss. “It is what it is.”

“Y/N,” Maggie went to move forward, but Hershel stopped her to talk about something instead. That was one thing about Maggie, she wasn’t stupid. So she had to have known that it would upset Y/N. That’s why she was quick to try to talk to her. There was frustration in Maggie’s eyes over the fact that Hershel had stopped her because Maggie was trying to approach the subject knowing that things were tense.

“Hey,” Glenn called out, stumbling over himself when Y/N started walking down the trail again to gaze upon the rest of the lights. Once he caught up with her, his fingers curled around her wrist and he tugged on it to get her to look at him. There was fear in his big brown eyes while he tried to gather himself. “You aren’t mad at me, right? Because I wouldn’t have done that normally. I wouldn’t…”

“Glenn,” she interrupted him with a shake of her head, realizing that he was freaking out. “First of all, you made it clear that you didn’t want to do it. It was my family harassing Maggie to do it. You were innocent in all of this.”

“Yeah, but,” Glenn stuttered trying to come up with some kind of excuse, but she really didn’t think that he needed one.

“It’s fine. I have no right to get upset with you,” Y/N stressed and that was true. With what had been going on with Negan, she really had no right to feel a certain way toward Glenn to begin with.

“What does that mean?” Glenn tipped his head to the side while she started walking down the trail again with him by her side. “You should be furious with me. We’re engaged. Your sister just kissed me. After what happened the other night with that Shane guy…”

“We don’t need to talk about that,” Y/N assured him with a shrug of her shoulders. That was something her family should have been thinking about. Not Glenn. “That was kind of a different situation too Glenn. You were just forced to kiss my sister. Shane was cheating on me with Maggie. That’s a big difference.”

A bunch of words slurred together that were incoherent from Glenn’s mouth making her laugh. Glenn brought his hand up caressing it over the back of his head and messing up his dark hair, “Glenn? I told you it’s fine. What happened with Shane was in the past and I shouldn’t have really been with Shane anyways. Truthfully? I haven’t really been a great fiancée to you lately Glenn.”

“How so?” Glenn let out a nervous breath, trying to figure out how she was feeling right now. “I think most people would think I was the one that was being a bad fiancé. Not you. I should have been standing up for you the whole time like Negan said. He wasn’t wrong. I’ve been focused on the wrong things and I’m so sorry. I have been…distracted.”

“Well, my family does make things complicated,” she noted looking to Glenn who looked severely upset. It looked like he was on the verge of telling her something, but he was distraught. “I understand that you like my family, Glenn. And that’s okay. I can’t expect you to have the same feelings that I do because they have been good to you whereas with me…”

“Yeah, but I’m really…really sorry,” Glenn threw his hands up in the air, his eyebrows furrowing and he looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“What are you apologizing for?” Y/N could see that Glenn was acting in a way that he hadn’t before. Usually he was so happy and right now he looked like he was an absolute mess. “Glenn?”

“It’s difficult to really explain,” Glenn frowned, letting out a long sigh and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “You have to understand that you were the first person that I thought I fell in love with and I should have been standing behind you this whole time. I should have been doing better.”

“I’m confused,” Y/N stopped walking turning to face Glenn with the color from his face draining when she approached the topic. “What are you trying to say Glenn?”

“I…uh…I don’t know,” Glenn reached back to rub at the back of his neck in a moment of tension. “I just thought things would be different coming here, you know? I wanted to make you happy and then all of this happened. Things are strange and all of these emotions are confusing me.”

“I’m lost,” Y/N admitted confused with the way that Glenn was acting. He was avoiding eye contact, tugging at his jacket, messing his hair and just being overall very uneasy.

“I’m just trying to say I’ve been making a lot of mistakes since we got here,” Glenn exclaimed, his eyes having a hard time connecting with Y/N’s the further they talked. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m your fiancé. I was your fiancé when I got here and I was planning on marrying you. I should be stepping up and defending you.”

“Not if you don’t agree with me Glenn,” Y/N corrected Glenn, her eyes narrowing when Glenn sighed loudly. “I don’t want you to stand up for something you don’t believe in just because you feel like you have to. I may be your fiancée, but I want you to be your own person. I’ve always liked the person that you are. Whether we were together or not. I want you to be the you that I first met. The sweet, smart, funny, goofy Glenn that I know you to be. You may be my fiancé Glenn, but I want to be your friend more than anything.”

“Shit,” Glenn frowned and she tipped her head to the side. Hearing that looked like it absolutely wrecked Glenn. “We need to talk. I have to talk to you.”

“Hey,” Maggie stepped forward between Glenn and Y/N. It was a forceful movement that had Glenn stumbling backwards, shocked with the way that Maggie barged in like that. “I was hoping you and I could actually take a photo together after everything Y/N. I’d like to have one of us here.”

“Maggie,” Glenn tried to get her attention, but Maggie was dragging off Y/N in the other direction toward one of the bright light set ups that they had for a selfie opportunity.

“What’s going on?” Y/N wondered feeling Maggie pulling her in for a tight squeeze so she could get a selfie. At first Y/N wasn’t into it, but when Maggie huffed, she feigned a fake smile so Maggie could get the photo she wanted. “You’re acting weird.”

“This whole trip has been weird,” Maggie announced, lowering her phone down and giving a dramatic shrug. “There is something about this family that sometimes brings out the worst in people and I think you understand that feeling.”

“Sure I understand that feeling, probably better than anyone,” Y/N agreed with her half-sister seeing that Maggie also had that same uncomfortableness that was in Glenn. “Is this all over the kiss? Forget it, Maggie. You were egged on by the family and I get it.”

“It’s forgotten,” Maggie proclaimed, squeezing Y/N in closer to her several times. This all felt very strange and Y/N was thankful when she noticed that Beau was approaching them with Erin at his side.

Pulling herself out from underneath Maggie’s arm, Y/N offered up a big smile when she knelt down to be level with Erin who seemed to be excited to see her. Almost immediately Erin ran up to her and hugged her. It was a nice feeling after everything that happened, “Hey honey!”

“She wanted to come ask if you would take a photo at the polar bear light with her,” Beau explained holding his phone up to give it a wiggle. “Since you got her the stuffed animal she loves so much, she thought the three of you should take a photo with that light.”

“I’d love to do that,” Y/N spoke in an animated tone, getting up and having Erin lead her over toward where she wanted her. It was cute having Erin holding onto her hand dragging her through the snow, but she liked it. It was a good distraction. Once they got where she wanted, Y/N knelt down to be level with Erin so they could get the whole light display in the picture that Beau was taking. Once he was done, he gave them a thumbs up and Y/N turned to Erin. “I’m so glad you like your stuffed animal sweetheart.”

“I love it,” Erin boasted, cuddling the bear in closer to her. “It’s been one of my favorite parts about coming here.”

“Hey, the rest of us are going to gather by the fire and watch the movie that they are playing,” Beth approached them, pointing off toward the end of the trail drawing Y/N to look up. “Just so we spend some more time here and together.”

“Sounds good,” Y/N led the children toward the screen that the trail had set up to play a popular Christmas film. What was strange was how split up the group was while they were watching the film. Beth, Beau, Erin, Annette and Hershel were all up front, but the rest were split up and she was sitting at the back.

“Hey,” a voice whispered and the warmth of breath pressed in over her flesh causing her eyes to come to a tight close. “I’m gonna need you to follow me.”

“Someone will notice,” Y/N suggested, her eyes fluttering to an open when she looked around the crowd. Glenn was at one corner, Maggie at another. “We can’t just disappear.”

“Of course we can,” Negan’s deep, raspy voice assured her. “If someone asks, we just were antsy and we wanted to go for another walk around the loop.”

Standing up from the table, she allowed Negan’s fingers to hook with hers leading her back toward the trail of lights through the snow. Stealing another glance back, she made sure that no one would notice that they were taking off together.

“You worry too fucking much,” Negan stated with a long sigh, his fingers hooking tightly with hers as they started making their way around the loop again. Most everyone was gone because it was later or they were sitting in the group of people watching the film.

“Annette knows about us,” she informed Negan, almost blurting it out with an uneasiness when Negan looked to her again. “She knows about us and told me that it was obvious because you have nothing but heart eyes for me. That both you and Beau love me.”

“Well, she’s not wrong,” Negan stopped walking, turning to her so he could sweep his fingers in over the side of her face. Drawing her up onto her toes, Negan curled his index finger in underneath her chin to get her to tip her head back. Hovering his lips in over hers, Negan smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “I do love you.”

“I love you too,” she frowned realizing that Negan was missing the point completely. “My stepmother and Beau easily caught onto us being together Negan.”

“Was she mad?” Negan skimmed his bottom lip over hers and it made a whimper escape her lips. There wasn’t a worry in his body finding out that Y/N’s stepmother knew that they were intimate with one another. “Is that why you are upset?”

“No,” she answered tipping up on her toes to bring their lips together in a faint kiss that had Negan humming out. “In fact, she told me not to let it slip through my fingers.”

“Smart woman,” Negan snickered, his nose wrinkling when he leaned back enough to stare down at her with his heavy-lidded gaze.

“What if other people have noticed?” she placed her hand in over the center of Negan’s chest, stroking her fingers over it.

“What if?” Negan didn’t seem bothered by the idea of it when he claimed her lips in another kiss. It was snowing very hard at this point and some of the lights were being restricted from how heavy the snow was. It was giving a small amount of glow amongst the darkness and it made everything feel almost like a dream. “I don’t care. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you anyways. So what if they realize ahead of time before we tell them?”

“You take everything with ease,” she noted wishing that she could be as laid back as Negan.

“That’s because I know what I want and it’s you,” Negan reminded her, his tongue brushing softly at her inner bottom lip. A purr fell from her lips and he snickered. “I want us to grow old together and be sickeningly in love with one another. We’ll be old and our grandchildren can be grossed out by how in love we are.”

“Negan,” she rolled her eyes, feeling his arms sliding down so he could hook them around her waist. They were far enough away from the group that it was okay for them to interact like this, but he was still way too relaxed. Yet, she couldn’t help herself. Stealing kiss after kiss from Negan was easy while he held tightly to her. A shudder filled her body and Negan reached for the red scarf that he had on. Wrapping it around her, he got it done right before cuddling her close. “The perfect gentleman.”

“Who? Me?” Negan chuckled, shaking his head with his eyebrows bouncing up. “Nope.”

Sweeping her thumb over Negan’s jawline, she found herself completely enamored with the man before her, “You are so handsome.”

“And you are so beautiful,” Negan slurred, lowering again to bring their lips together in a kiss. This one was drawn out, passionate and when they pulled away, they were both breathless. There was something different in the way that Negan was looking at her. It seemed like something was on his mind. His long eyelashes fluttered and he let out a long exhale. “Marry me.”

“What?” she laughed, noticing the seriousness in Negan’s features. “Negan?”

“I’m serious,” Negan grumbled, his thick eyebrows furrowing when he slid his palm in over the side of her face. “Marry me.”

“What? Here?” she threw her hand up in the air and it made Negan huff out.

“No, I mean when we get back home. Let’s just do the crazy thing and get married,” Negan threw out the idea, his dimples sinking in while he kept his stare locked with hers. “I don’t want to fuck around with life anymore. I love you. My kids love you. You love me. Let’s not fuck around. Let’s get married. You can be Mrs. Smith. What do you think? Then again, you can keep your last name if you want for work. Or you can add my name onto the end of yours.”

“You’re kind of jumping ahead here,” she frowned knowing that she would love to be married to Negan, but there was still so much that needed to be done. “I’m wearing another man’s ring on my finger.”

“And in a few days, you won’t be,” Negan pointed out, grabbing a hold of her hand lowering down to his knee in the snow. It made her heart hammer in her chest and he shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t need more time to realize that I want to be with you forever Y/N. I’ve only felt like this once in my life and I know when it’s real. So what do you say? Will you marry me?”

“Negan,” she felt like the trees were spinning around her when Negan lowered his head enough to press a kiss over the back of her hand. “We don’t even have a ring.”

“We will as soon as we get back to New York,” Negan insisted with a big, cheesy smile that drew her to laugh. Holding his finger up, he motioned her to wait and dug into his jacket searching for something. A crinkling sound filled the air when she saw Negan tugging at the wrapper he had just pulled out. Grabbing the opposite hand from where her engagement ring with Glenn was, Negan pushed a ring pop up her ring finger drawing her to let out a hearty laugh. “Erin gave me that earlier and we’ll use this as a place holder. What do you think? What do you say? It’s cherry flavored. Which is pretty damn good,” Negan had her cheeks flushing over with warmth. The way he was looking up at her with that smile had her heart hammering inside of her chest. “Will you marry me?”

“Negan,” she began, tossing her head back and letting out a tense breath. Cussing to herself, she nodded her head and heard him let out a happy exhale. “Of course I will marry you.”

“Fuck yes,” Negan got up from the snow to pick her up in his arms. He lifted her from the ground and gave her a spin before bringing their lips together in a passionate sweep.

“We’re insane for this. I hope you know that,” Y/N reminded him knowing that she couldn’t deny him the answer that she knew that she felt deep down in her heart. Maybe it was what Annette said that made her confident in her answer, but she knew how she felt about Negan. “I don’t know how I’m going to break things to Glenn and Maggie.”

“Let’s not worry about that right now,” Negan hushed her, nibbling faintly at her bottom lip when he squeezed her closely to him. “I love you. So fucking much.”

----

“You know people are still probably awake,” Y/N reminded Negan, dropping her head back into the pillows. Lifting her hand, she brushed her fingers through Negan’s messy hair which had his smile expanding out over his handsome features. Once they got back from the trail, they had interacted with her family enough before going to bed. Which meant that Negan went with his children until they were asleep and then he had snuck into her bedroom again. With him laying over her, she could feel her heart hammering inside of her chest. “Is it always going to be like this?”

“No,” Negan answered, shaking his head and letting out a long exhale. “Some nights I will come home from work and absolutely crash. And according to my daughter, I do drool sometimes, but let’s be honest, I’m cute. So it will be cute when I do it.”

“That’s not what I meant,” she laughed, drawing her hand down over the side of his face. “You are such a dork.”

“And I’m proud of it,” Negan winked, flashing her a cheesy smile that had her covering her mouth in attempts to hide her laughter. “I’m adorable too you know.”

“I know,” she agreed with him, lifting up from the pillows to ask for a kiss from him which he happily gave her. “You can always make me laugh and I appreciate that. No matter how I’m feeling, you always manage to make me smile.”

“That’s because of the dimples,” Negan lifted one of his hands to point at his cheek drawing a small laugh from her lips. Every movement from Negan right now was very animated and he was purposely trying to be ridiculously silly. “They are so fucking cute.”

“They are,” she agreed with him, lifting up enough to steal another quick kiss from him. “Yes, your smile and your dimples are cute, but you know how to make me smile and I love you.”

“Mmm…” Negan teasingly peppered kisses against her lips hearing her giggling with the sounds that he was making while he did it. “I love you too.”

“You better,” she snickered, sliding her hands down his sides and then back up to stroke over his shoulders. A breath caught in her throat with the way that Negan was looking down at her. “I just want to know that this feeling I have won’t go away.”

“It won’t,” Negan hushed her, getting more comfortable over her, sweeping his thumb across her bottom lip. There was something in his eyes that made her believe him. “I know this feeling all too well. I felt it with Lucille and even when you get furious with me, which you will, you can’t help having that ache inside of you because you love that person so fucking much.”

“I still wonder if we are the bad guys here,” she informed him, looking to the ring pop he had given her that she had resting on the nightstand. His gaze followed hers to look at the candy ring that she had taken off to make sure it didn’t get destroyed. “I meant what I said to Beau. What we did wasn’t right.”

“I understand that. And morally, I get it,” Negan frowned, urging her to look back to him when he shook his head. “And I will face the consequences of it when the time comes, but when you find the person you are meant to be with, you just know. And that happened between us. Glenn and Maggie were a chapter in our lives, but that’s all. The day after Christmas the two of us will tell everyone and then we can be together. Without worries.”

“Well, I’m sure it’s not going to be easy telling them,” she noted, brushing her fingers through Negan’s hair while he listened to her closely. “And then we’re going to have to worry about work.”

“I’m not worried about work,” Negan assured her with a confident shake of his head. “We are both good workers. As long as our relationship doesn’t affect our workflow and content, then they will be okay with it. I know our boss more than you do. I’ve been with this company for a long time. Everything is going to be okay with work when we get back.”

“You’re so confident,” she pointed out and it was followed by a long exhale from him.

“Because at this point there are only two things in this world that I fucking care about. One is my children,” Negan explained with a tiny smirk, his fingers tracing down over the side of her neck and over her collarbone. “The next is you. Everything else doesn’t matter to me. As long as I have you and my children in my life? Then everything is going to be okay. I’m not worried.”

“Every time you talk, I fall more and more in love with you,” she declared hearing his snicker when he nuzzled his nose in against the side of her neck. The sensation drew chills down her spine before he pressed a faint kiss over her flesh.

“I’m glad you feel that way because most people just want to punch me after they hear me talk,” Negan snorted, tipping his head back having his long eyelashes fluttering. “I’m kind of really irritating. I’m a smart ass. I swear constantly. I’m immature as fuck.”

“And I love you anyways,” she hushed him, sliding her hands up to cup his face in her palms tenderly. Stroking her thumbs over the side of his face, she cleared her throat and looked to the ring pop he had given her again. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

“I think I have an idea,” his thick eyebrows bounced up, an arrogant smile expanding over his handsome features. A sharp wince fell from her throat when she felt Negan’s thumb tracing over her nipple through the material of her shirt. Arching her back up toward him had him releasing a proud sound. “Because you do the same fucking thing to me.”

“It’s still early,” she reminded Negan when his hand palmed down over the length of her abdomen to press the material of her shirt up. “You know people could be up.”

“I’m up,” Negan scoffed with a mischievous expression behind his eyes. Dipping down, he pressed hot, wet kisses over her flesh that was revealed. Closing her eyes, she took in the sensation it filled her body with as his lips traveled further up the lengths of her body. With ease, Negan got her shirt up over the swell of her breast with his lips following. At first it was hot, open-mouthed kisses that he was pressing over her flesh. “I’ll be quiet.”

“I don’t know if I can be,” she admitted with the first flick of his tongue out over her nipple, circling the flesh before sucking faintly at it. Whimpering, she dug her nails into his shoulders and heard him moan against her body. “Negan…fuck.”

“That’s what I’m going for here,” Negan teased, lifting his head just enough to glance up at her and shake his head. “Maybe something more so in the middle. I can probably keep you quieter if we make love of sorts. Fucking is very loud and I can’t keep either of us quiet when we are really going at it.”

“Can you be serious for a minute,” she rolled her eyes, reaching down to hook her fingers into his hair to pull him back up to her. Pouting, Negan tipped his head from side to side giving her the puppy dog look that he had learned she liked so much. “Let me do something for you right now if you think you can be quiet.”

“Something for me?” Negan repeated, his eyebrow arching in curiosity.

“I think you said something about wanting to come down my throat,” she brought up the conversation they had while they were alone in the bathroom together the other day.

“Oh,” he whispered with a wolfish smile tugging at his lips. Getting up on the bed, she motioned him to sit on the bed with his back against the headboard. Eagerly, he got into place leaning forward enough to allow her to pull his shirt from his body. Once she tossed it next to the bed, Negan let out an amused sound. “I like that idea.”

“I thought you might,” she slurred when she began pressing wet kisses down over his slender abdomen. Adjusting the position of his body, Negan’s fingers sank into her hair and caressed at her scalp. “Later when everyone is asleep, we can do more.”

“Sounds good to me,” Negan whispered, his eyebrows bouncing up when her lips got to the top of his pajama pants. Motioning him to lift his hips, she sank her fingers into the waistband of the material. She pulled them down his hips along with his boxer briefs allowing his erection to bounce free from the material to rest against his belly. Settling back down on the bed, Negan hummed when her fingers curled around his rigid flesh and he growled. “I told you I was up.”

“I believed you,” she licked her lips, teasing her fingertips over the ridges at the tip of his cock. “See, this isn’t going to be as fun as normal because I actually like how verbal you are when we have encounters like this.”

“You like daddy’s moans?” Negan mused, his head giving an arrogant bob. Getting more comfortable, Negan saw her give him a smirk before lowering down to start pressing kisses over his abdomen. “Daddy likes making you moan too.”

Dropping his head back, Negan watched her behind a heavy-lidded stare when her tongue dragged from the base of his cock along the underside of it all the way up to the tip. Licking his lips, Negan growled faintly when she repeated the movement several times before taking the tip into the warmth of her mouth.

“Good girl,” Negan praised her, appreciating the way her eyes hooked with his when she started giving him the blowjob. At first, she gave special attention to the tip lapping her tongue at his sensitive flesh making it hard for him to be quiet. Biting down on his bottom lip, he felt his hips tensing and he tugged harder at her hair. “I feel like you’re purposely trying to make me make noise.”

With a wet slurping sound, she pulled her lips away from his cock and a wicked smirk followed, “I would never.”

“Dick,” Negan grunted with her lips pressing up against his manhood when she chuckled. The vibration of it drew his hips to arch up and he used his other hand to caress over the side of her face. “Every now and then I remember just how fucking naughty you are. You had to hide this part of you away for so long…”

“Are you saying you bring out the worst of me?” she wondered flattening her tongue out across the tip, dragging her tongue across the sensitive slit having a moan fall from his throat. “I told you it isn’t easy being quiet.”

“I’m saying I bring out the very best of you,” Negan corrected her, tugging her head back causing her to purr. Grabbing a firm hold of his cock, he stroked it a few times before pressing the tip of it to her wet lips. “You keep up with what you were doing and daddy will be coming in no time.”

“Yes daddy,” she smirked, extending her tongue out allowing him to tap it against her tongue before she wrapped her lips back around his girthy length. Keeping his focus on her, he enjoyed the wet sounds she made while she pleasured him and his breathing grew louder and more uneven.

“Fuck, that’s it,” Negan coached, dropping his head back against the headboard while he helped her movements over his body. “You’re such a good fucking girl. Fuck.”

A faint knock on the door was heard drawing Negan to thrust upward involuntarily making a gagging sound fill the air before he fell from her bed and onto the floor in a loud thud. A slew of swearwords followed. Grasping her throat, she scoffed and saw him swiftly pulling his pants back up, “Are you trying to kill me?”

“I’m so fucking sorry,” Negan spoke quietly, throwing his hands up to hint as if he didn’t know where to go.

“Slide under the bed,” she instructed noticing the way that he looked under her bed to determine if he could. With a grumble, Negan managed to slide beneath her bed and she adjusted her body trying to act normal. “Yeah?”

“Can I come in?” Beau’s voice was heard at the other end and she let out a relieved sound. It was still awkward considering what they were just doing, but it was better having it be Beau than someone in her family or Glenn.

“Yeah,” she called out hearing Negan cussing from underneath her bed to himself.

When Beau pushed opened the door slightly, he gave her an awkward expression and made sure everything seemed okay. Stepping into the room, Beau’s eyebrows arched up when he saw the shirt laying at the center of the floor and he sighed loudly, “You can come out dad.”

Pulling her knees up to her chest, Y/N felt like a teenager that had been caught by her parents when Negan huffed out loudly. When Negan was out from under her bed, he simply just got up to his knees and placed his hand on top of the bed.

“How did you know I was here?” Negan inquired, his face twisting with confusion when Beau clung tightly to the things that he had in his arms. Rolling his eyes, Beau put the things he had under one arm and then reached for Negan’s shirt. Tossing Negan his shirt, Beau noticed his father let out a hesitant sound before pulling his shirt back on. “Oh.”

“It might have been the loud thud that was followed by a whole lot of fucks afterwards too,” Beau explained, pointing back toward the door. “Should I give you guys a few minutes?”

“Yes,” Negan answered.

“No,” Y/N spoke at the same time noticing Negan’s face twisting with discomfort.

“Which is it? Yes, or no?” Beau pointed his finger between the both of them. There was desperation in Negan’s eyes when she shook her head.

“We have something to finish,” Negan suggested and she let out a hesitant laugh, shaking her head knowing that there was no way that she was going to finish with Negan’s son wanting to speak to her. “We do.”

“It’s not that important,” she brushed off what Negan was suggesting hearing him grumble under his breath. “It can wait until later.”

“It really can’t,” Negan clutched tightly to the comforter hearing Beau clear his throat. “It needs to happen or…work will be very uncomfortable.”

“No, it doesn’t. We can finish our work later,” she insisted making Negan drop his head onto the bed. After seeing his father being dramatic, Beau shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “Am I witnessing your first fight as a couple?”

“We’re not fighting,” she laughed reaching out to stroke her fingers through Negan’s messy hair when he huffed out against the comforter that his face was buried in. “Your father is just being dramatic.”

“I really can come back,” Beau offered with a half laugh and Y/N immediately shook her head.

“It’s fine,” Negan sighed, lifting his head up and releasing an amused laugh. “I tell you what Beau, you have impeccable timing lately.”

“Thank you,” Beau gave a big cheesy smile to his father and it took a minute for him to realize what Negan actually meant. “Oh, that was sarcasm.”

“A little bit,” Negan couldn’t help but laugh at his son’s innocence when Beau’s cheeks flashed over with a bit of red.

“Sorry,” Beau apologized, giving his head a small bob.

“Don’t be. You’re more important than what we were doing,” Negan admitted which was ultimately the truth. His heart was still pounding inside of his chest, but he knew that Beau needed to be their top priority. “So, what’s up kiddo?”

“I was actually hoping that I could talk to Y/N alone,” Beau explained, his eyes looking worried when he glanced between the both of them. “If that’s okay. I just want to talk to her about something kind of important.”

“Oh,” Negan bit down on his bottom lip and looked to Y/N. Grabbing one of Y/N’s pillows, Negan pulled it from the bed and cleared his throat. “Sure buddy. Just give me a minute.”

“Okay?” Beau’s eyebrow arched up hearing Negan huffing out. Carefully Negan got up and he had Y/N’s pillow placed in front of him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to go upstairs to my room,” Negan informed them, nodding toward the door and letting out a wince. Heading toward the door, Negan gave his son a weak smile before hearing Y/N call out to him. “Yeah?”

“Where are you taking my pillow?” she wondered with a half laugh. The lines in Negan’s forehead grew deeper and the muscle at the corner of his jawline flexed.

“With me,” Negan simply replied with a shrug of his shoulders. Negan’s head looked down toward the pillow that was placed in front of him and it had realization suddenly striking for sadly both Y/N and Beau. “You can come and get it later. I need it more than you do right now.”

“God,” Beau let out a disgusted breath, covering his face with his free hand. “You two really are like you and mom.”

“Listen buddy, we’re doing our best here,” Negan let out a hesitant laugh, shaking his head when he clutched the pillow tighter to him. “You’re the one with the awful timing, but we need to learn to relax a little bit. You’re not wrong.”

“Dad,” Beau scoffed turning away from his father and keeping his hand over his eyes.

“Was anyone else out there?” Negan asked Beau who in return shook his head. “Thanks kiddo. I’m really fucking sorry at how awkward this is.”

“It’s my fault,” Beau scoffed keeping his face covered as Negan made his way out of the bedroom. It took a while before Beau finally lifted his head. “I’m so, so, so…so very sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I’m sorry,” she threw her hands up noticing that Beau’s face was red. “You have nothing to be sorry about.”

“Do you think we can go…somewhere else to talk?” Beau spoke quietly knowing that it was awkward enough as it was with what he had likely just walked in on. “I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just…”

“No, you don’t even have to explain,” she cut Beau off noticing that he was backstepping toward her bedroom door. “Why don’t you go grab your jacket and we can go out on the porch. Sit on the swing outside or something.”

“Yeah, we can do that,” Beau agreed with her, leaving her alone in her room in order to go to his room to grab his jacket. Once he made it back to the hallway, she was already waiting for him zipping her jacket up. Quietly they headed down the stairs and out the front door. Switching on the light, Y/N let out a surprised sound when she realized just how hard it was actually snowing. “Are you going to be okay out here?”

“As long as you will be good,” she gave him a nod, following Beau over toward the swing to sit down on top of it with him. Thankfully the wind wasn’t blowing the snow in the direction of the porch so it wasn’t covered in snow yet. “What’s up Beau? What did you want to talk about?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt you and my dad, but I wanted to talk to you about a few things that I found,” Beau began, his eyebrows full of emotion when he adjusted beside her on the bench clinging to the things that were in his hands. “I just don’t want to upset you.”

“Nothing you do can upset me, Beau,” she assured him noticing that for the first time he seemed completely uncomfortable with her. It made her think it was because of what Beau assumed he had walked in on between them and she felt guilty. “I’m really sorry about everything with your father. I promise I won’t…”

“No, it’s not that. I don’t care what the two of you do in your free time. As long as you aren’t doing that in front of me or Erin, then it’s fine,” Beau promised, disgust still flooding his features at the idea of his father getting intimate with someone. “I just was really bothered about everything with your mom. So I started asking some questions. I talked to Maggie alone earlier and I asked her about your mother. She told me that she kind of remembered your mother, but she was really young.”

“It was hard talking about things to Maggie,” Y/N claimed realizing where the discussion was going now. “Why were you asking Maggie about her?”

“Because I wanted to see if she could give me any kind of clues as to what I could be looking for,” Beau stammered, his eyes shifting down to the papers and the photobook that he had in his hands. “What did your father tell you about your mother again? I only vaguely know what you said.”

“It’s not much. All he told me was a name and that she died in childbirth,” she stated, thinking back on the times she tried having conversations with her father about her mother. “I’ve never seen as much as a photo. I think my mother was an accident. Someone my dad got…intimate with once and then I was the result. I think he said my mother kept me hidden from him, went into labor and then died during childbirth. I assume that means someone had to give me to my father since I had no one.”

“That’s what he told you?” Beau’s face went pale and he looked sad hearing her say all of that. “He told you that he didn’t know she was pregnant? That he wasn’t there when you were born?”

“Yeah,” she cleared her throat finding herself getting involuntarily emotional when she thought about her mother. “Why?”

“Because that’s a lie,” Beau declared, his eyebrows bouncing up when he reached for the first piece of paper that he found. “I went looking in the attic because it seems like that’s where your father threw everything. After digging around for a while I found all of this under a loose floor panel. There was a bunch of shit on top of it and when I was moving it, I heard it creaking when I stepped on it.”

“What is this?” she accepted the paper realizing that it was her birth certificate. Looking over it, she saw all of the information written out on it and she sighed. Under her father’s name, she realized that it was Hershel’s handwriting and she shrugged her shoulders. “He probably just had to sign this when they gave me to him Beau.”

“Sure, you could think that, just let me…” Beau dug into what he had pulling out a photo and handing it over to her. Once her eyes fell upon it, a breath caught in her throat as she gazed upon it. “Yeah, it blew me away too. You look so much like her. But the name on the back matches your birth certificate. It’s your mother.”

“I guess I should have gone searching for something after I left here,” she swept her thumb over the photo noticing that it was slightly burned and she brought it up to look it over.

“I think your father went to burn all of this, but then stopped,” Beau stated with a shuddering breath noticing her forehead tensing up while her bottom lip trembled at the sight of her mother. “She was beautiful Y/N. Just like you…”

“Yeah,” she let out a hesitant breath now realizing why her father must have hated her as much as he did. After seeing the photo, she looked a lot like her mother and that would be more than enough reason for him to hate her. It reminded him of the one mistake that he made.

“Your father is a liar Y/N,” Beau claimed, his voice breaking when he handed out to her a photo book that was somewhat singed at the corners. Accepting the booklet, she laid it down in her lap flipping the cover open. Almost immediately a photo fell into her lap of a younger Hershel with her mother and she felt her throat tense up. Shakily she turned the pages seeing tons of photos of Hershel with her mother. There were even photos of her mother with a young Maggie and she felt her body tremoring. “If your mother wasn’t around, Maggie wouldn’t have remembered her. That’s why I was desperate to find something.”

“I don’t understand,” she stammered, a whimper falling from her throat when she came to a page with a photo of an ultrasound. Pulling it out of the sleeve, she felt her hands shaking only for Beau’s hand to place over her knee in attempts to show her his support. “My dad said…”

Swallowing down hard, she lowered the photo and turned the next page to see that it was Hershel with her pregnant mother. Hershel’s hand was over her mother’s growing stomach and he looked proud of the fact that she was pregnant. Seeing it broke her heart since everything her father told her was a lie. Trying to hold it together, she didn’t want to cry in front of Beau, but she could see that even Beau himself was emotional with the things that he was telling her.

“He was there when she was pregnant,” she shakily stammered, her throat tensing up when she continued to flip through the pages of photos. There was even a page in the book with what she assumed to be her mother’s handwriting coming up with names that she might have wanted. “I don’t understand why he lied.”

“It gets worse,” Beau urged her to continue flipping through the pages until she finally came to a photo of her mother in the hospital with her father after she was clearly born. They both looked happy. And unlike all of the other photos her mother was actually wearing an engagement ring in this photo. “Keep going.”

“I just…” she stopped when she realized that there was a photo of her mother sitting in the very spot that she was now holding what Y/N assumed to be her as a baby. Something that resembled a cry fell from her throat when she realized that everything her father told her was a lie. Page after page of photos showed that not only did her mother make it through childbirth, but she was also very much alive for what seemed like almost the first two years of her life. Toward the end of the booklet, she found the last page and it suddenly hit her when she realized the photos were obviously of her mother sick. There was a photo of her being held by her mother in a bed and photo with Hershel, Maggie and her mother all holding onto her. By now she felt her tears burning at her eyes and she let out a hurt sound. “I don’t understand.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau leaned forward, wrapping his arms around her to give her a big hug to comfort her. “I don’t know why your father lied to you, but he did,” Beau whispered, leaning back to stare out at her with worry knowing that she was visibly upset. “I was worried about giving this to you because I didn’t want to hurt you. I’m so sorry. I just…”

“Please don’t apologize,” she tried to wipe away at her tears hating that Beau was blaming himself for her being upset. “I can’t believe I’ve never found this. Was there anything else in there hidden?”

“Just this with your mother,” Beau answered, pointing toward the things that were in her lap. “There was a significant amount of money hidden in there too, but I just…I left it. I promise.”

“I believe you,” she laughed for the first time, looking back down toward the things that Beau had given her.

“I just had to tell you about this,” Beau spoke up, his raspy voice broken when he shrugged his shoulders. “All I wanted to do was find a photo of your mother that you could have. I wanted to give it to you for Christmas, but then I found all of this…”

“Thank you, Beau,” she clutched tightly to the things that he had given her. There was an inkling of happiness knowing that she now had photos of her mother, but at the same time it broke her heart that her father lied to her and hid this from her. None of it made sense. “I’m glad that I have this. You have no idea how happy it makes me that I have this.”

“But you’re crying,” Beau noted, reaching out to place his hand in over her hand to give it a firm squeeze. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m crying because I don’t understand why my father has been…” she whimpered, trying to hold back her emotions not wanting to upset Beau any further.

“So awful?” Beau finished and she nodded her head, biting down on her bottom lip to hold back on everything. “Maybe you can use this and ask him. It might finally give you some answers.”

“I hope so,” she breathed out, looking to Beau with a weak smile. Extending her arm out, she wrapped it around Beau’s shoulders and pulled him into a big hug. “Thank you, Beau. At least I know now that he didn’t always hate me. I made him happy once and even if it hurts, I find some kind of happiness in knowing that.”

----

Tags: @slutlanna976 @fuckthis-and-fuckthat @jennydehavilland @de-gabyconamor @ibelongtonegan @smallsadjellyfish @labyrinthofheartagrams @msjamesmarch @thebeautysurrounds @hotfornegan @redmercysugar @caprithebunny @tuttifuckinfruitty @emoryhemsworth @a-girl-interupted @akumune @stoneyggirl2 @xsarcasticwriterx @haleygreen23 @xhannahbananax03 @sanctuaryforthelost @burningredaffair @killaweiser @dead-of-niight @ayumi-wolf @hollyismentallyillhelp @promiscuousbarnes @tone-stark @lanadelnegan @flippittygibbitts @stickyhuesos

#Negan #negan x reader #Jeffrey Dean Morgan #The Walking Dead #twd fanfiction #Negan smut #negan smith #negan x you #negan fanfiction

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fluentmoviequoter · 3 months

Note

Hey could you do fluff fic for David 'Deacon' Kay x wife reader where they spend their day together after hectic week? She's school teacher. Tag me later. Thanks!!

Of course! This was a fun one; thanks for the great request!! Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!🤍 @pear-1206

Hectic Relief

Warnings: reader is an elementary teacher (I didn't specify which grade, just implied younger kids), hectic week, lots of fluffy comfort, kissing.

Word Count: 2.2k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Deacon Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest (it goes with the end [and makes me smile😊])

“Yes, Drew?” you ask, smiling at the young boy as he lowers his hand.

“When is Sergeant Kay visiting again?” he inquires.

“Hmm… Well, he’s really busy this week, but I’ll ask him to come back soon.”

Drew nods with a bright smile. He loves your husband, Deacon, and asks about him often. Since Deacon came in for career day, Drew and several other students have become big fans of his.

“Can he come Friday?” Drew continues.

“Why Friday?”

“It’s my birthday!”

“Oh, I see. I’ll ask him, but remember what Sergeant Kay said last time? He’s really busy at work, so he may not be able to.”

“Can’t you make him?” someone else asks. “My mom makes my dad do stuff all the time.”

You chuckle at the implication that wives have control over their husbands before gesturing for everyone to pipe down.

“I’ll see what I can do, Drew,” you promise. “But either way, I’ll make sure you have a good birthday at school.”

Drew nods, and you think the day will be easier with the idea of Deacon coming in soon. It only takes an hour for that hope to be crushed, as the week takes a turn for the worse.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon sighs. It’s only Tuesday morning, and his week is already feeling long. He hasn’t seen you since Sunday night. Yesterday, a call ran long, and you were asleep before he came in. You moved closer to him in your sleep, but he had to leave before you woke up.

“Everyone ready for another night of overtime?” Rocker cheers before pretending to cry.

“I vote we just let the criminals take each other out this time,” someone mumbles.

“If my wife wasn’t working in this city, I’d agree,” Deacon says, surprising everyone.

✯✯✯✯✯

During your free hour, while your class is with another teacher, you drop your head to your desk and take a deep breath. The kids are restless, you’re tired, and each day this week seems longer than the last. You send Deacon a quick text to let him know you’re thinking of him and love him before turning your attention to the stack of papers on your desk.

Across town, Deacon is sitting in Black Betty, wondering when he’ll hear your voice again. It feels like the longest week of his life, and each passing minute makes him miss you more. His phone buzzes, and he smiles for the first time in hours as he reads your short message. Luca slams on the brakes and yells for backup before Deacon can answer, but he knows you understand. Even if it’s unfair to you and hard on him.

✯✯✯✯✯

By Friday morning, you feel part zombie, part teacher. The small gift you got for Drew and the card you signed from you and Deacon are sitting by your bag. You hope it’s enough to cheer Drew up even without Deacon stopping by to see his favorite of your students.

“Happy birthday, Drew,” you tell him when he enters the classroom. “This is from me and Sergeant Kay. He said to wish you a happy birthday and that he’ll come visit as soon as he can.”

It’s a lie; you haven’t even talked to Deacon in days, but you know he would be here if he could. He loves the kids and would do anything to help you out.

Drew’s smile falls just enough that you notice. He thanks you, anyway, even though he’s clearly disappointed his favorite SWAT sergeant won’t be dropping by today.

“Alright, class. Who’s ready for Fun Friday?” you ask, smiling as you pray for a nice day.

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon clenches his jaw as he slams back against a brick wall.

“30-David, shots fired on the 4 side,” he radios.

“Copy. Shooter on the 1 side,” Street replies.

“We’re going to be here for a while, aren’t we?” Deacon asks.

Hondo nods beside him, and Deacon prepares for another day of missing you.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Drew, buddy, I know it’s your birthday, but we need to finish this lesson before recess. Let’s sit down and focus, then we can play,” you say, struggling to stay calm.

Drew huffs and falls back in his seat. When you see tears gathering in his eyes, you feel like you’re right behind him. It’s only 9 a.m., and it is the perfect, overly hectic, and stressful end to the longest week of your career as a teacher.

“I promise we’ll do something fun this afternoon, but it’s still school.”

✯✯✯✯✯

Deacon answers the phone, suppressing a stressed yell when Hicks tells 20-David to meet 50-squad on the other side of the county to aid with a hostage situation. He leans his head against Black Betty, wondering if they’d really notice if he took the rest of the day off.

Pulling his phone from his pocket, he sends you a quick text, surprised when you answer almost immediately. He doesn’t know if he’ll be home tonight, and his heart breaks at your disappointed reply, even though you try to cover it as a caring and understanding message.

Deacon knows that being a cop’s wife is just as hard as being a cop, and he wants to find a way to make it easier on you.

“Guys, I need a favor,” he calls as he puts his phone away. “I need to be home for dinner. I haven’t heard my wife’s voice in almost 5 days, and if I don’t hear it today, you’re all going to know about it.”

Luca chuckles as Street’s eyes widen. “Yes, sir,” they all say together.

“She’s braver than any of us,” Hondo muses teasingly.

“Better looking, too,” Deacon replies.

✯✯✯✯✯

The final bell rings and your shoulders slump as you say goodbye to each passing student.

“Thank you,” Drew says quietly.

“You’re welcome, Drew. I’ll make sure Sergeant Kay visits soon, okay?”

He nods. “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

“It’s okay, Drew, thank you. Have a good rest of your birthday and enjoy your party tomorrow, bud.”

Drew smiles as he nods excitedly before rushing out. The stack of papers on your desk has dwindled slowly, and you carelessly push it into your bag, unwilling to stay in your classroom for a minute longer than you have to.

Sighing in relief as you start your car, you hope to see Deacon tonight, even if only long enough to kiss him and hear him say goodnight.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Told you we’d do it,” Hondo says, clapping Deacon’s back, “now please go home. Your desperation is wearing off on us.”

Deacon would reply if he had more energy or if Hondo was wrong. He has no shame in admitting that he misses you and needs your comfort after such a hectic week with seemingly pointless chases around Los Angeles County.

He’s back to the station and on his way home to you before Luca notices he left.

✯✯✯✯✯

When Deacon steps into the house, he immediately feels lighter and happier. You look up from a paper and smile, setting it aside. Beginning to stand, Deacon moves faster than you and practically falls on top of you, pinning you to the couch with a tight hug.

You move one arm across his shoulders as he buries his face between your neck and shoulder. Running your fingers through Deacon’s hair, you relax in his embrace, and the week away seems worth the wait.

“I missed you,” you tell him, scratching his scalp.

“Missed you more,” he mumbles, tightening his grip on you.

“We should order dinner then, right?”

Deacon nods, and you smile as you pull his phone out, typing in your birthday to unlock it. Once the food is ordered, you move your hands to Deacon’s tense back muscles.

“Seems like your week was as long as mine,” you muse, gently kneading a knot in his lat muscle.

He groans before sitting up, pulling himself close to you. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, kissing his cheek quickly before asking, “How are you?”

Deacon catches your chin, pulling you in for a real kiss as he replies, “Better now.”

Once your dinner is delivered, you sit with your thigh pressed against Deacon’s as he tells you about the string of robberies and hostage situations spanning the county this week. He’s more interested in hearing about your week, so he doesn’t go into much detail before asking about you.

“Well, today was Drew’s birthday and he was pretty grumpy,” you tell Deacon, moving your legs across his lap.

“Not Drew, he’s my favorite!” Deacon exclaims.

“I think he was upset that you couldn’t come to class on his big day,” you excuse, running a finger along Deacon’s cheekbone and down his jaw as you add, “and he was tired, like someone else I know.”

Deacon nods, leaning against you.

“We should go to bed,” you whisper.

Deacon shakes his head, making himself comfortable beside you, one arm wrapped firmly around your waist to keep you close.

“If we go get ready and get in the bed, we can cuddle easier,” you bribe.

Deacon’s eyes open as he asks, “Promise?”

Chuckling, you link your pinky with Deacon’s and promise. He holds you to it, pulling you into his arms when you’re changed and ready to relax. He hugs you tightly, refusing to let go even though you don’t try to fight him.

As you fall asleep in Deacon’s arms, you whisper, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Deacon replies, entering into the best sleep all week.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you wake up, Deacon has moved you closer to him in your sleep. It’s as if he thought he’d wake up and you’d be gone. Brushing your finger over his facial features, you wish you could admire him all day, but you need to get up and get a glass of water.

As you try to move out of his grip, it tightens. You finally give up and decide to wake him up.

“Deac, baby, I need to get up,” you say gently.

“It’s been a week, you can’t leave,” he mumbles.

“I just need to get some water, handsome.”

Deacon seems to debate his options before unhooking his arms and saying, “Two minutes or I’m coming to find you.”

“I have no doubt.”

You return in less than two minutes, but when you offer to make breakfast and bring it back, Deacon rolls out of bed and sleepily follows you to the kitchen. Standing behind you, he keeps his arms around your waist as he helps you prepare breakfast, trailing kisses up your neck each time you turn your head.

“I’m glad we’re both home now,” you tell him, turning in his arms to kiss him.

“Me too,” he replies, pulling you in for another kiss.

✯✯✯✯✯

It takes hours, but you finally convince Deacon to talk about himself and his week at work. As you direct him to the patio, you find yourself in his lap, enjoying the sun after a week inside with your rambunctious class.

“You’re too good for me,” Deacon says, interrupting his story.

“You’re too good for me,” you repeat.

Deacon smiles at the challenging look on your face, aware that you will win any argument he tries to make. This conversation is practiced, and he knows how it ends: an agreement that you are soulmates, completing each other and perfect for one another.

“I think we need a vacation,” you tell him.

“Or a second honeymoon,” he suggests, kissing your jaw.

“But you have to come visit my class first or I’ll have a riot on my hands.”

“Technically, you’d have a better chance of getting me there for riot control.”

You laugh, leaning against Deacon’s chest as you kiss the corner of his mouth.

“I’ll see if I can make some time this week. For you and the kids.”

The sun dips below the hills, and you wonder where the day went, though you know time spent with Deacon always goes too fast.

“Same thing tomorrow?” you ask, pulling your legs up as Deacon nudges you to shift.

Lifting one of your legs so you’re sitting in his lap, your face just above his, Deacon smiles and answers, “Anything with you.”

You tilt your chin down, brushing your lips across Deacon’s. He sighs, raising his hands so one is on your waist and the other behind your neck. Settling on his thighs, you lean against Deacon’s chest as you kiss him, letting his love and comfort calm you from the inside out.

“I love you,” you say against his lips.

“Love you more.”

You push your hands against his chest, taking a deep breath before arguing, “Impossible.”

Deacon tilts his head, a bright smile making his eyes look deeper and darker than usual. He’s irresistible, and as you kiss him again, he promises himself not to let work get in the way like that again.

Pulling back, you suggest, “You should bring your whole squad next time, the kids would love it.”

“If we can spare the time.”

“'If'? You can't do it, not even for me?” you ask with a pout. “Your wife?”

Deacon nods, telling you he’ll find a way.

“It’s that easy,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“Because you cheat,” Deacon accuses.

“Because you love me.”

Deacon can’t argue, so he pulls you down for a slower kiss, happy to spend another slow, lazy night in your arms before doing it all again tomorrow.

#david deacon kay x reader #david kay x reader #david deacon kay #deacon kay x reader #deacon kay #deacon kay fluff #fem!reader #requests #swat cbs

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bellarkeselection · 7 months

Note

Hi there

I was wondering if you would do yellowstone ryan maybe ? Or kayce ? Where reader is talking to them and she sees her ex over their shoulder and they notice her state maybe he hears them call her darling and think they are together and the rest is up to you

Even though my requests are currently closed I found some down time to write a request for Ryan. So I hope you all enjoy 🤗

He Ain’t Anything Like You

It was rare when the cowboys and cowgirls of Yellowstone leave the ranch for a night out on the town. But every time it occurred everyone enjoyed themselves….except for me on this night at the bar. Ryan and I we’re currently chatting by the bar with some people who had too many drinks already. Sitting my glass of whiskey down I tipped my hat to the cowboy. “So Beth and I ran out of the barn with the young boys climbing the raptors trying to avoid the snake. I have never heard so many boys scream like girls.”

“In all honesty in my younger years I probably would have tried to climb the wall like a monkey too.” Ryan chuckles taking a long sip of his beer before sitting it down beside my drink on the bar top.

Tucking hair behind my ear I started to say something until my eyes glanced over his shoulder and say someone I didn’t think I’d ever see again. I had met my ex Will when he had just gotten back from the army and we had some drinks at this very bar until I found out he was sleeping with other girls and I was just in our relationship for sex. So I broke up with him through text the night he had to leave for the airport and go serve our country thinking I wouldn’t see him again. “Oh geez. I can’t believe he’s here.”

“There’s my darling. I wasn’t very fond of your text.” Will calls out to me with the old nickname he would call me where I covered my mouth trying to avoid his gaze.

Ryan slightly glanced where I was looking then focused back onto me, crossing his arms over his chest asking. “Is he your boyfriend, Y/n?”

“Hell no, Ryan. In fact I never thought I would see that asshole again in my life. I…oh crap he’s coming over now.” I cut myself off seeing him walking over to us making me more nervous than I already was when I saw him. Wrapping my arms around myself I gulped when he stands closer to me then Ryan almost blocking me into his body and the bar top.

Will leaned forward where I could feel his breath yet the way he was swaying he clearly had more alcohol then he probably should’ve meaning he would try and get another girl to go home with him. But it wouldn’t be me this time or ever again. “So I just gotta ask…have you found anyone who was as good as me lately?”

“Uh no. In fact I was just leaving. I wish I could say it was nice seeing you Will but it wasn’t.” I pushed my way away from his grasp and I almost made it past him until he yanked my wrist pushing me back against the bar where he almost kissed me.

Someone grabbed Will by the shoulders yanking him off of me where I saw it was Ryan who was fists fighting with my ex now. “Ryan!” I cried out where he ducked underneath a punch Will threw causing my ex to stumble into some of the people in the crowd.

Ryan moved forward when Will started coming towards me in a drunken step about to punch me. Ryan shielded me twisting Will’s arm behind his back pushing him onto the ground until the bartender came around with a local cop and took my ex out of the bar. Ryan came over to me offering me a hand to help me up. “Are you alright, baby girl?”

“I’m better thanks to you. I’m sorry you had to deal with that asshole.” Nodding up at the cowboy in front of me I squeezed his hand before I suddenly flung my arms around him hugging him tightly. Ryan stumbled a little but he hugs me back gently afterwards where he rested his chin on top of my head since I was shorter then him.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that he slightly pulled away from the embrace staring down at me longingly until a thought crossed his mind. “So uh…don’t take this the wrong way. But what did you see in him exactly?”

“It doesn’t matter, Ryan. I only care about you now.” Lifting my head up I smiled pushing his cowboy hat up before I raised myself on my toes and kissed him without warning. Ryan didn’t hesitate either before he tightened his grip around my waist and leaned into the kiss making it more deeper. “And the truth is…he’s not anything like you.”

Ryan grins down at me tugging me closer to his embrace kissing me passionately making me smile. Wrapping my arms around his neck I deepened the kiss happy that I wasn’t with my ex anymore. Gripping the fabric of Ryan’s shirt I broke the kiss hearing him whispering back. “If I’m being honest I am glad I am nothing like that guy either cause you’re amazing.”

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#ryan yellowstone #ian bohen #yellowstone #yellowstone series #yellowstone masterlist #yellowstone imagine #yellowstone season 4 #bar fight #ex boyfriend #ask box is open for anything #comments really appreciated

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leoneliterary · 3 months

Note

Heya Leone! Hope you’ve been having a good (or survivable) week so far! Here’s two questions that have been on my mind for quite some time:

We know that Aretas and Laverna get a good stream of admirers, but how’s it look for the rest of the ROs? Do people tend to get crushes on/court them often? 🤔

Shoutout to Amatus for gracefully gifting his Ducklings the gift of Being Hot by simply growing up near him btw

Thank you, I've been preoccupied with staying warm, but I can't complain!

Okay this is a cool question, let's see:

Sarai:

(Some have tried to get with her and very few have lived to tell the tale.)

When Aretas was young, many nobles wanted to approach and control a young, politically vulnerable widow. They did not succeed. Now people at court are either too resentful of her power or too afraid to risk the ire of the Aretas to try anything. Still, she has many admires who still appreciate a beautiful woman. She gets love letters, gifts, and marriage proposal's from other kingdoms.

Sutek:

(If he wanted to, he could be getting busy on the regular and have a whole family.)

In the Jackal territory and other parts of Lower Cusmo, he's viewed as a catch. Idir wishes that Sutek would take advantage of his position as guild leader and followed his example, but Sutek keeps mostly to himself. He rebuffs people's advances, assuming people feel obligated or have ulterior motives for approaching him, but he doesn't do it in a cruel way. Unfortunately for him, this only increases his appeal.

Desma:

(She's had some casual flings and broken several hearts because she's careless when it comes to people's feelings. Unless you're one of the ducklings.)

Her intense connection with the ducklings, especially if she has feelings for the MC, makes it hard for her to invest too heavily in other people on an emotional level. The Talons are her family/friends and a roll in the sheets is good fun. Any of the people in Cusmo that thought there could be something more usually found themselves with empty pockets, no palpata, and Desma's confusion about what else they expected.

Merikh:

(People have been interested, but he's too unavailable for it to go anywhere. Plus his ex...was not the best.)

He has that whole broodingly handsome thing going on that has caused people to be interested, but he usually is too busy sulking and thinking about vengeance for it to go anywhere. He's dismissive of the attention he gets at best and at worst he's hostile. People that have been around him long enough to have a crush are usually crushed by his blunt refusal of a confession.

Nari:

(She has some quiet admirers, one closer than others, but most people don't view her that way.)

Ever since she began to follow in her father's footsteps, her marriage proposals have withered away to almost nothing and the offers she does receive are more disrespectful than flattering. She doesn't think any interest people express in her is genuine and has all but given up hoping for it. This has caused her to miss some of the people that are interested, but not vocal.

Heka:

(People are definitely interested, he just doesn't know it.)

He has grown up in a temple and is somewhat oblivious to his good looks. People gives monks food all of the time, so he thinks all of the nice ladies in some of the villages they help out at are just very kind to offer him dinner and baskets of fruit. When he was younger, some of the other monks called him a pretty boy, but that was usually trash talk before a scuffle broke out, so he assumes they're being sarcastic.

P.S. Oh my goodness you're right! Amatus is proof that being hot is contagious haha!

#interactive fiction #honor amongst thieves #if wip #game development #interactive novel #ros #hat if #all ros #sutek #heka #merikh #sarai #nari #desma

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canirove · 5 months

Text

In The Name of Love | Chapter 1

Summary: The plan that night was just to have fun and try to forget. And Valeria (or Val as everyone calls her) did forget. But what she didn't expect, was to do it with someone younger than her. Someone who also happened to be a football player, and from her team's sworn enemy: Pedri González.

Little warning: there is an age gap in this story. Throughout it I don't mention any exact number, but in my head she was like 28/29.

Author’s note: Me, a Real Madrid supporter, writing for a Barça player? Yep, it's happening 😅 It all started as a joke with a friend who is currenlty obsessed with him and other Barça players, then I got carried away... and here we are. Hope you like it, and thank you for reading! 💜

Next chapter

Masterlist

"Stop checking that photo, Val."

"I wasn't checking it" I say, quickly putting my phone down.

"Of course you weren't" Silvia says, rolling her eyes. "We are here to forget about all that, remember? Let's focus on it."

"Ok..." I sigh, taking a sip of my beer.

"Great. What do you think about them?" Silvia says, nodding towards the group of men to my left.

"Eww, no."

"And what about… them? The ones ordering a drink. They look quite decent."

"And posh."

"They do, don't they? And we are trying to forget about a posh guy, so they aren't an option. What about… Oh! Them!" she says, nodding towards someone to my right. "I thought the cute one had left, but looks like he only went to the bathroom or something."

"Who?"

"That guy over there, the one with the Adidas t-shirt. He hasn't been able to keep his eyes from you since we arrived."

"Yeah, sure" I snort.

"He is looking at you again."

"Silvia!"

"What?"

"Why did you wave at him?"

"Why not? He is really cute. His friend too."

"I don't trust you and what you find… fuck" I say as I turn around.

"He's a hottie, uh?" she smirks.

"I know who that is."

"You do? Is that why he has been looking at you?"

"I don't know him in person, but I know who he is."

"What?" Silvia asks with a confused look.

"That's…"

"Hello" a male voice says next to us.

"Hi" she replies with a big smile.

"I hope we aren't bothering you. I saw you waving and I just…"

"No, it's fine. It's fine. My friend here was actually telling me that she knows you!"

"Silvia!" I hiss.

"What? You do know him, don't you? Though she said something weird about not doing it in person. Do you follow each other on Instagram or something?"

"I wish" he chuckles.

"Ok, now I am completely lost."

"Silvia, you are talking to Pedri."

"Who?"

"The Barça player" I sigh.

"Pedri? I don't remember hearing you talk about a Pedri."

"Because when I've done it, I haven't said nice things about him."

"Ouch!" he laughs, reminding us that he is standing next to us.

"I'm a Real Madrid supporter. Sorry" I shrug, finally daring to look at him. But he doesn't look like the Pedri I remembered from our last game against Barça. He seems to have gotten rid of the stupid haircut, and looks like he is trying to grow a beard. He looks less like the kid he actually is, and more like a man, kind of… attractive? And the way he is looking at me, the smirk on his face… Fuck. He is attractive.

"Bro, she is gonna be a tough one" his friend laughs.

"You are gonna have to let me buy you a drink. I won't see the end of it if you say no" Pedri says, trying to give me puppy eyes.

"Are you allowed to buy alcohol?" I ask.

"Why wouldn't he? I see football players getting drunk all the time" Silvia says.

"It's not because of his job. It's because of his age."

"What?" she laughs.

"How old do you think he is?"

"I don't know… Twenty something?"

"Without the something" I say, crossing my arms over my chest. "He is a kid."

"Really?"

"I am not a kid" he replies, also crossing his arms and trying to look offended.

"Yes, you are. And I don't accept alcohol from kids."

"Oh, c'mon. As if you were an old lady or something" he laughs. "You can't be older than 25."

"Oh my God" I laugh, Silvia joining me.

"What? What is so funny?" he asks.

"You" I say, trying to contain my giggles. "You are so innocent."

"Now that is something funny" his friend chuckles.

"Ok, fine. You aren't 25" Pedri says. "26 then?"

"I'm too old for you. Let's just leave it there."

"Well, I don't care about how old you are" he shrugs.

"But I do."

"Oh, c'mon, it's just a drink and a chat. There is nothing illegal about that."

"But I support Real Madrid and you play for Barça. I'm pretty sure that is illegal."

"Another excuse" he says, rolling his eyes.

"It isn't an excuse, it's a fact."

"It is an excuse" he repeats, moving closer. "You are just afraid you may end up fancying someone younger and from the enemy."

"Afraid? Please" I snort.

"Then let me buy you that drink."

"If I say yes, will you leave me alone once I've finished it?"

"If that's what you want… But you'll probably want more" he smirks.

"Yeah, sure" I reply, trying to ignore the way my stomach has reacted to that smile. Again. "Silvia, do you… Wait, where is she? And your friend?"

"Looks like they left us alone."

"I'm killing her the moment I find her."

"Or thanking her."

"Why do you keep insisting? Why are you flirting with me instead of those teenagers over there?"

"Because they don't interest me. You do."

"Me? Why?"

"I don't know" Pedri shrugs. "But the moment you walked in, I couldn't keep my eyes from you. You are different from the others."

"Has that pickup line ever worked before?" I chuckle.

"I'm telling you the truth."

"And I'm 25" I laugh.

"You do look 25. And they look so good" he says, looking at me from head to toe, making my cheeks get warm.

"Are you buying me that drink or not?" I say, trying to stop whatever he is doing to me.

"Yes, sure" he smirks. "Another beer?"

"Please" I reply, taking a big breath when he turns his back to me to go order, trying to compose myself. Why is a kid making me feel… things?

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"So, how did you end up here tonight?" Pedri asks me once he is back with our drinks.

"Silvia wanted to go out to help me forget about something."

"Have you?"

"Have I what?"

"Forgotten about that something."

"I… I actually have, yes. Having a kid trying to flirt with me has helped. Cheers to that" I say before drinking.

"Cheers" he chuckles. "But I am not a kid."

"That's what you keep saying, but I don't believe you."

"I'm drinking alcohol and have a driving license."

"Not enough."

"Do you want me to show you that I'm not a kid, then?" he asks, arching a perfect eyebrow.

"Yeah, why not" I shrug.

"You asked for it" he says, quickly moving around the small table where we were standing and showing up by my side, his hands cupping my face before kissing me.

He is kissing me. Fucking Pedri González is kissing me. And for some reason, I am not slapping his face. For some really odd reason, I am kissing him back, getting completely lost on what is happening.

"Is this enough to prove to you that I am not a kid or do I have to keep going?" he asks, resting his forehead on mine and trying really hard not to smile.

"Not enough" I hear myself saying.

"Ok" he replies, this time fully smiling before kissing me. And, again, I feel myself getting lost on the way his lips and his tongue feel on mine, on his hands on my face, mine resting on his chest. It feels like something completely new and exciting, but also familiar and somehow peaceful. As if we had known each other our whole lives and hadn't met just a minute ago.

"And now?" Pedri whispers against my lips when we finally manage to stop.

"Now what?"

"Do you still think I am a kid?"

"A teenager."

"What?" he laughs.

"You've gone from kid to teenager, congratulations."

"I am not a teenager either."

"You actually are. Scientists say that the teenage years end in your twenties, so" I shrug.

"Ok, fine" he laughs again, moving one of his thumbs over my cheek. "You are hot."

"Thank you?"

"I didn't mean it like that" he chuckles. "You are hot, but you also feel hot."

"Oh. I… I actually do feel a bit hot, yes."

"Do you want to go outside and have some fresh air? I know a place where no one will bother us."

"Ok" I say, letting him take my hand and guide me outside.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I had never seen the city like this. It's beautiful" I say as I look at Barcelona's skyline. "How did you find this place?"

"A security guy from the club brought me here after someone recognized me and things got a bit crazy."

"He brought you to the rooftop?"

"Yep" Pedri says. "Weird, but it was exactly what I needed to calm down."

"Was it too bad? What happened that day, I mean."

"I'm pretty sure I had a panic attack. I suddenly found myself surrounded by too many people with phones flashing everywhere, arms and hands all over me. It was too much."

"I'm sorry" I say, giving his hand a little squeeze. We hadn't let go yet. I hadn't.

"Thank you… Wait, I don't know your name."

"What?"

"I just realized I haven't asked you your name."

"I guess you were so busy putting your tongue down my throat that you forgot to ask."

"I didn't hear you complaining" he smiles.

"Yeah, whatever."

"And?"

"And what?" I ask.

"Your name. Are you going to tell me or not?"

"You'll have to earn it."

"Earn it? How?"

"I don't know" I shrug. "But I'm sure you can think of something."

"I… I actually can, yes. And it is something that will also show you that I am not a teenager even if scientists say so."

"Enlighten me" I say, my words turning into a whisper when I notice the way he is looking at me.

"My pleasure" he replies, guiding me towards a picnic table. Why is there a picnic table on the rooftop of a club? I don't know.

"What… what are you doing?" I ask when he lifts me up and sits me on the table.

"What do you think?" he smirks, sitting between my legs and caressing the inside of my knee, the feeling making me shudder.

"We are on a rooftop."

"And?"

"What if someone comes in? Or sees us? Or… fuck" I gasp when he kisses my inner thigh.

"No one will bother us."

"How do you know? Have you done this before? Is this where you take all the girls you pick up downstairs?"

"You are the first person I've brought here" he says, meeting my eyes before kissing my thigh again.

"Am I?"

"You are" he says, slowly lifting my dress.

"Should I feel flattered?"

"Definitely. I told you you aren't like the others."

"Yeah, because I'm way older" I chuckle.

"Tonight you are 25. And when I'm done with this, so will I."

"Yeah, well. We'll see" I say, biting my lower lip and trying to stay calm despite the way my skin is burning under his touch or what I am feeling… there.

"May I, then?" Pedri asks, his fingers playing with the hem of my underwear.

"Yes" I nod, my eyes focused on his as he pulls it down.

"Try not to forget about your name" he smirks.

"Why would I… Fuck" I gasp when I feel his tongue, everything that he does after making me forget about my name, but not his.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Morning."

"Good morning" Silvia yawns. "What is all this?"

"Breakfast" I smile.

"You made breakfast?"

"Yep."

"Why?"

"I don't know. I was in the mood for it" I shrug.

"You were in the mood for it, uh?" she chuckles. "You should fuck a teenager more often if this is what I get in return. It looks amazing."

"I didn't fuck a teenager" I say, rolling my eyes.

"Ok, fine. He did it all while you just had the best orgasm of your life."

"It wasn't the best."

"Top 3?" Silvia smirks.

"Whatever" I say, pouring myself some coffee.

"Are you seeing him again?"

"No way. One mistake is enough."

"Mistake?" she laughs. "Girl, look at you. You are glowing and haven't been able to stop smiling since you said goodbye to him. That doesn't look like a mistake to me."

"He is a kid, Silvia. And a football player. He is like a walking red flag."

"But I'm not asking you to marry him or anything. I'm just telling you to have fun for once in your life."

"Are you calling me boring?"

"When it comes to your relationships, yes, you are boring. This is the most interesting thing you've done since you became single, and he managed to make you forget about you know what, didn't he?"

"He did, yes" I sigh. "But it probably is because I was too busy freaking out about the fact that I had made out with a teen who happens to be a football star and I didn't have time to think about anything else."

"You were too busy thinking about the way he was making you feel, not his age or his job. That's good, you know?"

"That's crazy, Silvia. And dangerous."

"That's good. If he has managed to make you feel like this just with what he did last night, imagine what he can do when he actually fucks you."

"That isn't going to happen, tho."

"Why not?"

"Because he is Pedri! The Pedri! And he plays for Barça!"

"And?" she shrugs.

"Urgh."

"I think you should meet again. He definitely fancies you."

"He doesn't. He just sees me as a challenge because I'm older and support Real Madrid, and if he gets to fuck me he'll be able to brag about it with his friends."

"Did he tell you that?"

"No."

"Then you don't know if that's what he feels" Silvia shrugs again. "And what if that's the case, uh? I'm sure it'll be worth it."

"Oh, yes. Being treated like I'm just a piece of meat by a bunch of teenagers is so worth it" I reply, rolling my eyes.

"But you will also be using him, Val. He gets to brag, you get to be railed. I think it is worth it."

"It is madness, that's what it is. Now can we please eat our breakfast and change the topic of conversation?"

"Yeah, sure" Silvia says when my phone starts ringing. "Oh my God, is that him? Did we manifest it?"

"It's my mum. He probably is still sleeping like the baby he is. Hello, mum" I say, picking up.

"Valeria! Why hadn't you told me that Marc got engaged!"

"I forgot" I shrug.

"You forgot? He is your ex boyfriend!"

"Maybe that's why I forgot?"

"I thought you had remained as friends."

"And we have."

"Then?"

"Then what, mum?"

"Then why didn't you tell me!"

"Because I forgot, I already told you!"

"There is no need to yell, Valeria."

"I'm sorry, mum. I'm not in the best mood right now" I sigh.

"Oh, my poor thing. Knowing that you are the only one in your group of friends who isn't married or in a serious relationship can't be easy."

"I don't care about that, mum" I say.

"Well, you should! I want grandchildren, Valeria!"

"I have to go, mum."

"Where?"

"Silvia is calling me, she needs my help with something. Bye."

"But…"

"Bye" I say before hanging up.

"That was rude, Val."

"I'm sorry, ok? But she can be so annoying. Who cares if… Fuck."

"Uh?"

"He just texted me" I say, my eyes fixed on the notification on my phone, my heart suddenly beating way too fast.

"Who did?"

"Pedri just texted me."

"No way!" Silvia says, quickly moving to stand next to me. "What does he say?"

"If I'm free later today."

"Well, you are."

"Weren't we going to…"

"No, that's been canceled. You are going out with him and hopefully get railed so you can forget about your mum and everything she just said."

"Silvia..."

"You are going, Val. End of the story."

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"I thought you wouldn't come."

"Why not?"

"Because I am a teenager who plays for Barça and that's illegal?" Pedri laughs.

"Yeah, well. I needed to get out of the house and stop thinking, and you somehow manage to help me with that."

"And is that something good or bad?"

"Silvia says it's good. I don't know yet."

"Then I'll guess we'll have to keep hanging out until you make up your mind" he smiles.

"Maybe... We'll see. I had never been here before."

"That's because this is my secret place."

"Another one?" I chuckle.

"Another one. When you become so famous you can't step outside without being recognized, you somehow manage to find spots where no one can find you, places that are just for yourself."

"It must suck. Not being able to do normal things anymore, I mean. I don't know if I could be able to handle it."

"It sucks, yeah" he sighs. "But then I come here and I forget about everything. It's just me and the sea."

"Look at us, both looking for something that helps us forget" I laugh. "We are so sad."

"But now we have something in common" Pedri winks.

"I guess" I giggle. I giggled? Why did I giggle? "Anyway" I say, clearing my throat. "Can we go down to the beach?"

"Of course. There is a path over there."

"Then let's go" I say, taking his hand on mine and starting to walk.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"You are going to end up falling into the water if you keep playing like that" Pedri says with a cheeky smile.

"Lucky me, there is a young man next to me that will come to my rescue" I smirk, jumping when another wave threatens to touch me.

"Oh, now I am a young man?"

"You've earned it for bringing me here. This beach is perfect."

"I still feel like a kid when you talk about all these rewards, tho."

"That's my inner teacher speaking" I shrug.

"Is that what you do for a living?"

"Yep. This year I will be teaching 6-years-old."

"And I can tell you love it."

"Uh?"

"Your smile. It says it all" he says, looking at me in a way that makes me feel all fuzzy inside.

"Yeah, umm… Should we go for a swim?" I blurt out.

"Now?" Pedri chuckles.

"Yes, now."

"But we don't have swimsuits."

"But we do have underwear, don't we?" I say, taking off my t-shirt. "We do, right?"

"Yes, we do" he laughs.

"Then c'mon" I smile. "You are an island boy, you must be aching to go into the sea and just swim."

"You know what… you are right" he says, taking off his t-shirt too and making me stare at him. I just can't help it. Because a kid should not have those arms and that torso and those things on his hips that go all the way down to…

"Liking what you see?"

"What?"

"You are staring" he says with a teasing smile.

"I was just thinking and not looking anywhere in particular."

"Yeah, sure."

"I was" I insist, getting rid of my skirt. "And now you are the one staring" I say when I look up at him again.

"Yes, I am. I really like what I'm seeing."

"Great, cool. Shall we?"

"After you" Pedri smiles, making me feel his eyes on me as I turn around. He is checking me out. He definitely is. Why did I think this was a good idea? Swimming in the sea in my underwear. What the hell?

"Oh, shit" I hiss, the water feeling colder than I expected.

"You are going too slow!"

"What?"

"Too slow!" he says behind me, lifting me in the air and throwing me over his shoulder.

"Pedri!"

"This is how you do it!" he laughs before jumping with me into the water.

"It is so fucking cold" I laugh when I make it back to the surface, his head popping next to me.

"It isn't that cold, stop complaining" he says while splashing me.

"It is" I reply, splashing him back.

"Maybe this will help" he smirks, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me closer to him.

"Still cold" I reply, putting my arms around his neck.

"What about this" he says before kissing me. It is a short kiss, but it is enough to make me feel my cheeks getting warm.

"That is definitely working" I giggle. Again. Why am I behaving like the teenager here?

"Should I keep going, then?" he asks, trying to hide a smile.

"You should. You definitely should" I say before his lips are on mine once again.

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