#carol is allowed to swear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pirateprincessblog · 3 months

Text

2 batteries away

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: if he can choose to spend time with someone else rather than you, daryl would do it. not because he hates you. he simply doesn't have any type of connection with you. and you are so young. but when rick demands that you join him on a scavenge hunt, he doesn't have much of a saying into it, and chooses to act unbothered. he also chooses to ignore the way you tease him the whole trip, your hips swaying just a bit more when walking than usual. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daryl dixon x female reader 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: alexandria, pre-negan 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: big age gap, reader is half daryl's age 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: voyeurism, masturbation, breath-play, subtle ddlg, toys, subtle dacryphilia

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: i am on season ten of twd (my first time watching) and it feels like this man's clothes keep getting tighter and tighter each episode and i am so here for it. also the way his arms magically always glisten in the sun as he subtly flexes when the camera is on him? give me a break I BEG

Also I miss Rick very much 🥺

"i have a special request. if i'm allowed to do that." a playful voice calls behind you.

you turn around, squinting. the sun is high up in the sky, and right in your eyes. you make out carol's short hair, and nod at her as a sign to keep speaking.

"i'm gonna need something i can make cookies or cakes with. hazelnut, chocolate, almonds,... you know. cake stuff." the woman smiles.

"i'm going out for ibuprofen and possibly viagra, not chocolate."

"viagra? for who?"

you chuckle under the cap rosita has given you, and try to subtly glance over at the man loading the car with weapons. he grunts, glaring at you and instantly shutting down the bullying party you wanted to start.

"i don't need no damn viagra." he slams the trunk door shut, and walks past you, intentionally pushing his shoulder into yours.

you fall a step back, holding in a laugh. carol has her hands on her hips, but her laugh isn't hidden. she knows daryl can't say anything to her.

"oh, come on. i know that you like to stay quiet and mysterious, but a little joking in hard times never hurt anybody." the woman defends you, scrunching her eyebrows at daryl.

"it's hurting me." he yells from the car, slamming the door shut.

"how am i supposed to survive this trip with him, ricky?" you complain, shoulders hanging with rising irritation with the situation.

"you survived a walker flooded prison with nothing but an axe before you found us on the other side, and you're telling me you can't survive a grumpy old man for a few hours?"

"thing is, i killed walkers. i cannot kill him. boo-hoo, the precious tracker. i also, when i see a footprint on the floor facing a certain way, know that someone is headed there. wild, right?"

rick pats your head, messing up the cap in the process just to tease you.

"bring me some shirts on the way back, i'm getting sick of these flannels. and get yourself something nice."

one would think that he gave you his credit card to buy him those shirts at the nearby mall. telling you to get yourself something nice, that idiot. the less fun truth is that you are headed towards a landfill two hours away from alexandria, in hopes of finding anything. glenn and morgan haven't had any luck for a few days now, so rick decided to change the route and the team. daryl and you, apparently, make a great one. that pain in the ass of a man.

"i'm leavin'. you stay and talk 'bout me all you wan'. i'm the one actually doin' something for this place."

"stuck up much? see," you open the car door, sitting inside annoyed, "with the viagra, you'd be a much more pleasant person to be around."

"enough with the damn viagra. fuck's the matter with you?"

"god, just start driving and drop me off somewhere in the middle of the road and i'll find my own shit from a different place. rick doesn't need to know."

"no," he simply responds, not sparing you a glance.

rick waves at you with a smile on his face, knowing damn well what he did putting the two of you together for such a long quest. he's so going to hear from you tonight. if you make it out alive while trying to kill daryl.

"so, what are you hoping to find? booze, peanut butter, new clothes? i'm starting to think you stapled those clothes to your body."

he says nothing, eyes focused on the road. you sigh. maybe you're the problem. you're poking him too much, knowing he has zero patience and doesn't very much like your company. you decide to keep quiet for the rest of the drive, only occasionally glancing over at him out of boredom.

you can't lie, he is an attractive man. you don't know why you're mean to him. he is gorgeous to you, your taste in older rugged men not failing you. you're surprised rick isn't the one you fell for. but next to daryl, he looks too... neat. daryl is just perfect. most of the time his deep raspy voice has you subconsciously rubbing and squeezing your thighs, led by a tingling sensation in your lower stomach. his clothes have recently gotten very tight on him, the buttons of his black shirt threatening to pop and give you a view of your lifetime. he has been working out a lot, you've seen him. fuck, not only have you seen him, you also stayed there, secretly snapping pictures with your polaroid your father had left you before disaster struck. you only had a few films left, yet no self control. something about seeing daryl all sweaty as he did push ups, grunting and almost moaning, thinking that nobody can see him, did things to you.

"wha'?" he asks, sensing your intense gaze.

you turn your head away, flushed. "nothin'."

"mmh."

he keeps it short and stern, and if your panties weren't drenched as your brain replayed the memory of his glistening arm muscles, you'd probably make a sassy remark. he raises an eyebrow, probably also wondering why you aren't being mean for so long now.

"shoes." he says after some time.

"what?" you ask, absent-mindedly staring into the tall trees and the walkers hidden among them.

"i'm hoping to find some shoes. it's gettin' hard to walk in these. i also hope i find sum more arrows."

you nod, surprised that he has actually graced you with an answer. you thought he'd say something like cigarettes or alcohol. you hated people who smoke. but daryl is an exception. he looks damn hot doing it.

"you?" he asks.

"well, new underwear would be nice. i ripped all my good panties, and let me tell you, these thongs are not apocalypse friendly."

"shit, girl, oversharing much?"

"what, you disgusted by female underwear?" you poke back, playfully.

"not female underwear. your underwear."

you're offended. you squint at him, and have to fight the urge to smack the back of his head.

"for your information, you don't look or smell all flowery and fresh yourself. i could use your hair to grease up carol's tray for her cakes. and your fingernails? they have their own ecosystem at this point."

and back to the bickering it is. he grunts again, furrowing his eyebrows. he secretly glances at his fingernails. indeed, they had a layer of dirt under them, but daryl thinks that he has bigger issues than some dirt that will get washed off anyway.

"oh, i also wish to find-"

"yeah, lost interest." the man interrupts. "also, for future conversations, you do not mention your... thongs... to people that are ol' enough to be your father."

ew.

he did not.

"what, is that how you see me? you could be my father?"

how utterly disappointing. there you were, sitting next to him, imagining him going feral between your legs, all while he is viewing you as his child. there goes your masturbating material for tonight.

"well the age fits the description."

"fuck you. seriously." you sigh, turning your body towards the window so you can fully ignore him.

arriving at the gates, you immediately notice a few things that you will be taking home. how foolish of you to not take a truck instead of the crusty old car.

"watch it." just as he says it, an arrow passes by your head, followed with a loud thud.

you don't have to look back to know that a walker had managed to sneak behind you, while you were foolish enough to stay swooning over his arms glistening in the sun with sweat.

"damn it, girl, i don' know what it is with you, but you gotta snap outta it. i can't keep saving ya ass."

"yes, dad." you reply, annoyed.

"hey." he calls, hand reaching to cup your jaw and turn your head towards him. "shut it before i make ya."

if it weren't for the feeling of his rough hand on your face and his raspy voice sending you a warning turning you on, you would've slapped him and told him not to touch you. but oh, you were going crazy inside. you found a new way to push his buttons, and you're going to have so much fun with it.

you walk behind him into the landfill, the smell of junk pinching your nose. daryl is also bothered by it, seeing his scrunched expression as he scanned the first piles of garbage.

"there." he points his crossbow a certain way.

you follow the invisible line, your eyes landing on what seemed to be several taped boxes. they could have three things inside: food, weapons, or traps. weird how nobody has discovered this place yet. or maybe they have, and they took all valuables already.

daryl doesn't wait for you. he makes his way towards the boxes, keeping his crossbow ready if something goes wrong. you, on the other hand, have tucked your knife safely and are walking around like there isn't walkers scratching at the fence, waiting to sink their teeth into your skull.

"dammit."

you hear rattling. you turn around, only to find the man kicking the boxes angrily. the can he has just thrown on the floor rolls up to your feet, and you crouch down to examine it. it is food, but expired. eating it would be like playing russian roulette.

"i mean, we can still... ya'know, take it with us. what happens happens."

"dixon, if i'm gonna die, i'm gonna die from a bullet or a bite. not from a rotten macaroni."

he raises an eyebrow at you, amused with your laid back attitude. he doesn't give you much attention, just silently walks next to you while scanning his side of the landfill.

"ah, sweet!" you cheer, running towards a pile.

"wha'?"

you almost trip over the broken wooden chairs, trying to get to a certain little box in the pile.

"the hell are ya doin'? we're losin' time!"

your eyes instinctively roll at his voice. you know he has nothing smart to say. finally reaching the box, you jump back on the floor, eagerly opening it. seeing that the item still has the foil sealed on it, you victoriously raise it in the air, cheering.

"you have made it a goal for yourself to die today, didn't ya?"

"nah, not anymore. i found something that will keep me occupied and will fuel my will to live a little longer."

you continue your way forward, leaving daryl to stare at the box you have discarded, trying to figure out what it is. but he has decided he has no time for your immaturity. he needs to ask rick to not ever put him with you on a hunt again. he's lost a lot of time already, and hasn't found a single thing to bring back.

"clothes." you point, the pile of fabric sitting on top of a garbage hill.

"you gonna go get 'em?"

"why would i go? you go."

"you wanted your... thongs... so, you go get that."

you scoff, setting the newly acquired item on the ground and slowly climbing up the hill.

"what is this, anyway?" his curiosity wins.

you sit on top of the pile, examining the clothes and discarding the ones with holes in them.your eyes dart to the man below you, and you chuckle when you see him crouch and take the item in his hand.

"it's a wand."

"wand?"

"yes."

"for?" he keeps pressing, his eyes never leaving the pink gadget.

"masturbating."

thud.

you look down, mortified. he better not break it.

"careful with that, what's the matter with you?!"

"you're fuckin' crazy, girl."

you silently mock him, sticking your tongue out at him and repeating his words with exaggerated face expressions. he really gets on your nerves. you gather the clothes you have found into a bed sheet, tying it up and putting it over your shoulder, then pick up the gadget from the floor. it seems alive, it didn't break. you only hope it works. you're young, inexperienced, surrounded by people that are either too young or too old for you. though, the old part never was a problem for you, it was for them.

feeling bored, you decide to keep poking him. he is just so grumpy, and silent. and inviting to irritate.

"so, dixon, you've never heard about one of these?" you wave the gadget in front of his face.

he spares you a glare, and continues walking.

"come on, we're talking. nobody's around. tell me, since all of this started, how many times have you even approached a girl? do you even mastu-"

"'m not in the mood to be picked on right now."

"i'm not picking on you. i promise. just trying to converse."

"you want to be useful? hold this. it's in my way." he throws his vest at you, now only wearing a tight black t-shirt.

you scowl at him, shoving his vest into your backpack.

"you're so fun to be around. i get why rick put us together."

he grunts, leaving you behind. rolling your eyes, you go down a different path, hoping to find something useful to all of alexandria and not just you. turning a few lefts, you find yourself standing in front of a little shed like structure. you bang on the door with your foot, and when hearing no growls, you bravely enter. it is dusty and dark, with a singular armchair and a few cupboards.

you open each one of them, happily shoving all the food you managed to find into your backpack, opening a protein bar along the way and chewing on the oats and dried fruits. you missed having those with yogurt for breakfast.

not only will carol be happy with the amount of nuts and flour you have found, rick will be proud of you. you might even ask for a reward when he sees the amount of canned tuna and jam you have found. you forgot what pancakes taste like.

after clearing the room, you peek out the window. daryl is in the distance, going through piles and kicking stuff out of his way, as if playing. you've collected way more than him, and the sun is at it's highest point. the shaded room seems like a perfect place to take a nap, or just rest your feet and ears from him.

you plop on the armchair like a star washed up on the shore. it feels so lonely lately. rick has michonne, carl has enid, rosita has her boytoys, even gabriel might be having more fun than you. as wrong as it was, you stay up listening to the noises coming across the street. they're loud, there's no way you could ignore them even if you wanted to. even rick had to step in and ask them to be quieter. but what is a problem to someone else is a solution for you. is it wrong to touch yourself while listening to someone else fucking? yes. but is it the only way that works for you? also yes.

you eye up the toy that peeks from the backpack, then glance out the window. daryl is busy with his crossbow, having found something that he could use on it.

fuck it.

you unbuckle your pants, not bothering to take off the panties. your fingers are quick to pop the batteries that come with the package in the gadget, and when the lid clicks, you admire it for a second. there it is, in all its glory. waiting to be abused every day by you, until you find a replacement. hopefully a softer and live one.

taking off the thin protective foil from the head, you position yourself on the armchair. you glance at the window again, carefully monitoring daryl. now, if you thought that eavesdropping and touching yourself was bad, what was this? watching daryl's fingers work on his crossbow, arms glistening in the sun, all while the pink toy softly vibrates on your pulsating clit.

you sigh at the newfound pleasure, rubbing the toy up and down your slit, while your eyes stay focused on the man unaware of your situation. he probably even forgot about you. or is thankful that you have left him alone. even better for you. you get to be a pervert without him ever knowing.

you arch your back, throwing your head on the backrest as you focus on chasing the release. it's been awhile, it won't take you long. your eyes open again, just enough to see if the man is still in his spot. your fingers change the vibration strength on the gadget, and instantly, you gasp. it is so intense, and so much, but you don't want it to stop. this thing is your new best friend, you better get used to it.

something else peeks out of the backpack, the leather catching your attention and giving you an idea. like an animal in heat, you grab the vest, burying your nose into it and spreading your legs further. daryl's scent takes over your senses, making you lose control and become a moaning mess. you are getting wetter by the second, the toy now slipping up and down your slit with ease and giving you maximum pleasure.

"fuck- daryl-" you can't help but gasp, enveloped in his manly scent and fabric.

your hips hopelessly rub against the toy, chasing and chasing after something that isn't quite getting closer, even though it feels like it.

"the hell?"

your eyes widen at the interruption. you drop the vest in your lap, hiding the crime scene from him. the man stands at the door, expression unreadable. yours is one of horrified mixed with desire, the way he stares down at you angrily sending arrows to your core.

"daryl- i- did you, uh, find anything?" you try to play it off, foolishly.

"yeah. i found an animal in heat it seems. couldn't wait for alexandria to do that shit?"

"I-"

"is that my vest?"

he slams the door shut, leaving you two in darkness. you gulp, moving the gadget from your core and letting your panties fall back in place.

"i'm sorry, i'm sorry-" you stutter, failing to put a sentence together while he intensely glares at you.

"ya ain't sorry." he grunts. "ya know why i despise being around your ass? you're inappropriate."

"no, look," you try, but he points a finger at your face, making you close your mouth.

your eyes burn, tears announcing their arrival.

"it's not like that-"

"shut up, dammit! i'm talkin' now! do you have any idea in how many uncomfortable situations you've put me? all those snarky dirty comments, all that flirting, now this? do you understand what that does to me?!"

he's yelling, frustrated and angry with you. but why are you getting wetter? why can't you think rationally? he is scolding you for being inappropriate, and you continue to be even more inappropriate by sexualising simple yelling. not your fault he looks damn hot while he does it, though.

"you're- you're half my age. i can't allow myself to play your games, no matter how tempting."

what?

"what will alexandria think? they already have no good opinion on me. engaging with someone half my age the way you want me to engage is- it is a horrible idea. i'll be out faster than i was in."

silence swallows the room. you still lay on the armchair, half naked with his vest covering you. he paces around the room, fingers running through his hair as he tries to gather his thoughts. you think whether it's time to finally say something, but you wait another moment. you need to gather your thoughts too.

tempting, he said. so he thought about it too. he saw past your jokes, and has been controlling himself so well. if only you knew what it would take to shatter that control, even for just a moment.

"since when do you care what other people think?" you start.

"since rick chose to trust me."

you hum, understanding.

"listen-"

"so you've been thinking about it." you're the one to interrupt now.

his head snaps up, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, as if asking you where you're going with that statement.

"there's nothing wrong with it. it's not like we're getting married or something."

"i'm older than you. way older than you."

"so?"

"i could be your father."

"if you say that word to me one more time i swear i will turn this landfill upside down to find another sex toy to shove up your asshole."

"why do you get so triggered by it?"

you roll your eyes, looking anywhere but at him. you press your thighs together, missing the warmth and buzzing from earlier. fun killer.

"because."

"why?"

"doesn't matter."

"tell me," he presses further.

you finally look at him, frustrated. "because i have fucking daddy issues and the thought of you being so much older than me turns me on. there."

you get up from the armchair, putting his vest on so that you can cover yourself. it almost reaches your knees, hiding your body from his gaze. he says nothing, and does nothing for a few moments. you have your back turned to him, hands resting on the counter of the half chipped kitchen cabinet. your head hangs low with embarrassment from the confession that just left your mouth.

tears stream down your cheeks, luckily hidden by your hair. but daryl doesn't miss the little sniff that comes your way. he sighs, then paces around the place a little more. when you don't hear him anymore, and finally face the fact that nothing will be the same with him anymore, you dare turn around. you almost gasp when you come face to face with him, his chest pressing against yours.

"wha- what are you-"

"shh..." he hushes you, eyes roaming your face.

you aren't sure what to do, or what he wants to do. if he tries to comfort you by giving you a hug, you will break down. and you will never face him again. you thought it was only sexual, but the way he looks at you and hushes you as you cry is awakening new emotions inside of you. ones that you will push down for now, because it is not the time.

"daryl, i'm sorry." you hiccup, genuinely feeling sorry for ruining whatever you had with him.

you feel his hands on the back of your thighs, and before you can react, he picks you up and places you on the counter. you instinctively spread your legs, letting him in closer.

"don't be. or else i might regret this."

you look at him doe eyed as he places his hand on your neck, gently holding you just beneath your jaw and softly pressing into the sides of it. he brings his head close to you, eyes half closed as he stares at your lips.

"daryl." you whisper, not sure of this anymore.

"just hush."

and with that, he presses his lips into yours, softly moving them with rhythm only known to the two of you. his other hand caresses your thigh, then creeps to your bottom and pulls you to the edge of the counter, enough to have your crotch press against his.

you can taste your tears while you kiss him, and he probably can too. he doesn't say anything, hell, you even feel him twitch between your legs. you grind on him, unable to control yourself. it is different than the wand. it's warm, and it responds back. it's better.

"hey," you call, slowly pulling away. "i don't want you to do this because you feel sorry for me or something like that. are you doing it because of that?"

"nah."

before you can continue bombarding him with questions and overthinking, he places his lips back on yours, this time a little rougher than before. you open your mouth, tongue eager to taste him properly. and fuck, he tastes good. you hated cigarettes and alcohol, but from his mouth, you adore it. you finally give in, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him impossibly close. finally.

it doesn't take long for him to have you whining and grinding on him, wanting more than just kissing and thigh grabbing and occasional choking. you beg into his mouth, quietly at first, but with each kiss he gives you, you become louder and more demanding.

"touch me, please, please, please," you're desperate.

he smiles, for the first time in a while, and snakes his hands under your top. you hurriedly take off the vest and the top, to make it easier for him, but he pulls his vest back on your body. you are now wearing nothing but panties and the leather vest, making daryl incredibly impatient.

"ya just needed some attention, didn't ya?" he kisses your neck, his hand cupping your breast and thumb playing with the hard nub. "some sense fucked into ya to shut that mouth."

for someone that almost never talks, he is quite the talker now. and you can't complain, when his words have you clenching around nothing down there.

"needed someone older to take care of ya."

you moan at his words, spreading your legs further and raising your hips into his crotch. his hand reaches down to your panties, landing a light slap on your clothed clit as a warning. there's growling outside of the shed, but not enough to make you care. you'll get what you want, and no amount of walkers will stop you, even if it'll be your last.

daryl moves your panties aside, pulling away from you to see you. he hums, thumb coming to contact with your clit and circling it a few times. you shake under his touch, throwing your head back. it isn't something you haven't done before, but the touch is foreign, and different. his fingers are rough and big, an opposite of the soft flesh of your clit. he rubs your slit up and down, enough to smear your arousal so he can touch you better.

"fuck..." you trail, grabbing the edges of the counter and digging your nails into the hard surface.

"didn't find a boy your age to open you up?"

you shake your head. he hums again, fingers now circling your tight entrance.

"that's a shame, then. i'm gonna have to take my time with you."

"what? why?" you ask, disappointed.

"i'd split you in half, little one."

every word in that sentence sent arrows to your core. fuck, just how big is he?

"then, what are we doing?"

he turns around, leaving you yearning for his touch while he grabs your discarded toy from the armchair.

"you share toys?"

"sometimes."

"good."

he pulls himself out from his pants, and you are left with your jaw dropped. it fuels his confidence, the way you're staring at him as he rubs himself up and down. he isn't big. he's huge.

"daryl, how will that fit in me?" you ask, actually concerned.

"it'll take a little time. i'll train ya, and you'll take it like a good girl, the way i teach ya. but ya have to start listening to me and stop pissing me off."

nodding eagerly, you push your hips towards his hands, searching for his touch again.

he turns the gadget on, pressing it against your clit. you moan out loud, grinding on the buzzing toy and sliding with ease. you hear him grunt, and even a quiet moan. your eyes drop to the situation between your legs, and when you see him pressing his cock to the gadget, you swear you could squirt all over him. he rocks his hips with yours, pushing you up against the wall and grunting in your mouth, just like you moan into his. he doesn't break eye contact with you, instead getting off on it.

"i'm gonna cum, daryl." you whine, hands reaching into his hair to pull.

"give me a second."

you'd give him two if he wanted. you try your hardest to focus on not yet cumming, but the way he sweats and grunts for you doesn't make it easy.

"daryl-" you warn, moans becoming high pitched and inviting the walkers around the shed.

he sticks two fingers in your mouth, keeping you silent and helping himself get closer. you only needed to swirl your tongue around him a few time and take him all the way to his knuckles to have him moaning and cumming all over your stomach, rubbing the toy up and down in a sloppy pace.

you follow, pleasure washing over your body along with a thin layer of sweat, the sight of his seed on you making it more intense. you are dehydrated, hot and filthy. and you love it, because he is the same. you'd be like that every day, if it meant getting him the way you just had him.

"you didn't have to..." you say as he helps you dress up, wiping his seed from you with his bandana and discarding it.

"i wanted to. before, today, too."

"you sure?"

"yes."

you nod. he sees that you are not convinced, and he sighs. he pulls you in for a hug, resting his chin on the top of your head.

"i rarely regret my actions. trust me."

"yeah, well, i hope i'll get more of these actions you speak of."

he chuckles, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"you know, for someone who just came all over me, it's weird to see you so sentimental and comforting."

you don't even finish the sentence, he already playfully throws the bandana at you, rushing outside to hide his smile and to hide from your attempt at attacking.

"oh, you- you- you asshole!"

"right back at ya."

***

yippie! my first twd oneshot, idk how to feel about it lol. had this in the drafts for a while now. feel free to send feedback, doesn’t matter if it is good or bad 🩷

#twd #twd imagine #twd smut #twd daryl #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #daryl x y/n #daryl dixion imagine #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x female reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead imagine #the walking dead smut

778 notes · View notes

ihaveabuckyproblem · 1 year

Text

My Woman | D.D.

Summary: Everyone knew that you and Daryl were together. That doesn’t stop the new group member from shooting his shot, maybe a little too aggressively, and Daryl isn’t happy about it.

Warnings: protective!Daryl, fem reader, swearing, threats, angst, unwanted touching, suggestive talk at the end, etc.

No one thinks that they’ll find love at the end of the world. Especially Daryl Dixon, of all people. That is… until you.

Daryl was a hard shell of a man with a heart bigger than anyone you had ever met. The day Michonne and Maggie came back from a supply run with another figure behind them, everyone was surprised. No one had been brought back to Alexandria in so long. This resulted in people concluding that they were the only people left in the area.

Daryl was the one to open the gate to allow the three women back into the gated community. Besides from Michonne and Maggie, Daryl was the first member of the community you laid your eyes on. He scared you, he scared you for a long time. There was a while after settling into your new home that you were scared to leave your home. You had lost everything and everyone- you had been alone for so long. It was almost as if you didn’t know how to be apart of a group anymore.

Looking back on those memories now still makes you laugh to this day. To say you’ve grown as a person is an understatement- you changed. You weren’t a scared woman anymore who couldn’t even make eye contact. You were better, healthier, and bolder.

You were officially introduced to Daryl through Rick. Daryl didn’t say much, simply grunted as an acknowledgement to your greeting. It pained you- you knew everyone saw you as weak. But, despite the bad first impression, something about you sparked Daryl’s interest.

So, he started coming around more. Some days he would even sit on the porch with you and talk about the past. He found himself opening up to you about things he hadn’t even told Carol, and you soon understood his rough exterior.

Now, 2 years later, that same man allows you to put his hair in a ponytail and loves to make you breakfast. No one would have expected Daryl to be this soft for a person, but he was for you. He loved you more than he ever remembered loving anyone.

“He’s starin’ again.”

Daryl’s gruff voice brought you out of your thoughts. You weren’t sure as to what he was talking about.

The small fire you and the group were sitting around illuminated the features of everyone around you. You looked up, trying to see who Daryl was talking about, only to immediately lock eyes with Tyler. You instantly regretted ever looking.

You looked away fast. Daryl’s hands tightened around your waist- he was burning holes in Tyler’s direction. The two didn’t like each other for two simple reasons: Daryl had you, and Tyler wanted you.

It was uncomfortable to be under another male gaze. It made you shiver in your skin and adjust yourself uncomfortably in Daryl’s lap.

“Leave it alone, Daryl.” You whispered softly to him, placing your hand over his. Daryl was tense, that’s for sure. Tyler had stopped looking after noticing Daryl shooting daggers in his direction.

“Nah, he’s gon’ learn.” Daryl speaks, finally tearing his eyes away from the younger male and looking at you. You were only inches from Daryl’s face, locking eyes with him through his bangs. You couldn’t help the smile that crawled into your lips.

“You’ve got me, baby. He’s nothing,” you reassured knowing that was what Daryl needed. Tyler glanced over at the couple and grimaced, not liking how close they were.

“Damn right,”

You giggled and placed a soft, quick kiss on his forehead. Daryl leaned into it, grunting.

The night drew on, everyone sitting and laughing around the fire as if there wasn’t a problem in the world. Daryl loosened up a bit after a while, soaking in your scent. He talked to Rick while you listened in and even added to the conversation here and there. You weren’t one for conversation, so they didn’t mind when you would speak up.

But, again, you felt eyes burning holes into your head. You knew you shouldn’t look, but you did anyway. Tyler’s eyes met yours when he noticed you looking, but he looked away quickly. You huffed in annoyance, not appreciating the extra attention.

“You alright?” Daryl questions, feeling your sigh. You were quick to plaster a smile on your face as if nothing had happened, standing up from his lap.

“Yes, everything’s fine.” You said softly to him, “It’s cold, I’m going to go grab a blanket real fast.”

You weren’t entirely lying. It was a chilly night and the fire wasn’t emitting as much heat as you liked. But, deep down, you really just needed break from Tyler’s gaze.

“Alright,” Daryl nodded, letting go of your hand. You smiled at him and made your way to the house which, thankfully, wasn’t far. Everyone was out by the fire so no one thought much of your absence.

It didn’t take you long for you to walk into the house and grab a blanket from off the couch. While you were in there, though, you went ahead and got a cup of water for your unusually dry throat.

Gulping down the refreshing liquid, you heard the front door open. You weren’t worried, though, figuring someone needed to use the bathroom.

When you didn’t hear the door close, though, you turned around. You were undeniably uneasy when you saw Tyler standing there, the front door slightly cracked behind him, hands in his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet like he had something to say but didn’t know how to say it. You were confused, giving him a weird look as you placed your glass on the counter in-front of you.

“Um.. hey,” you spoke, obviously weirded out, “Do you need something?”

“I’m just trying to understand something..” Tyler starts to speak boldly, taking you by surprise how blunt he was being, “What do you see in him?”

You blinked and furrowed your eyebrows. Was he serious?

“Excuse me?” You scoffed, resting your hands on the counter.

“You know what I’m talking about, Y/N,” he said confidently, stepping closer, “The guy doesn’t even shower. What is so special about him?”

You didn’t appreciate your love for Daryl being questioned or your intentions.

“I’m not talking with you about this,” you speak quickly, grabbing the blanket you came for, “I don’t owe you shit.”

You went to walk past him, hoping he would catch the drift and drop it. Hopefully never even talk to you again. But, those dreams were shattered when he grabbed your wrist aggressively.

“Don’t walk away from me, Y/N.” He spoke lowly, it almost frightened you, “I think you’re trying to leave cause you know I’m right. He’s not good enough for you.”

“Tyler, if you don’t let me go, I’m going to break your arm.” You spat, not letting your nervousness get the best of you. He only tightened his grip, looking between you and his hand on your wrist, almost debating what he wanted to do.

“She said let go, you hard of hearin’?”

Daryl. He had seen it all, standing outside the door listening before making his way into the house. He grew concerned when he saw Tyler get up and leave the fire and wanted to make sure you were okay. Clearly, his fears were justified.

Tyler’s eyes widened at the sight of Daryl. He immediately dropped your wrist, letting you go as if you were fire and had burned him. He started backing away, hands up in defense.

“W-We were just talking, man.” Tyler stuttered out nervously. Daryl looked at you and you gave him a look telling him how uncomfortable you were. He snaked his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side before looking back to Tyler.

“Tell ya what,” Daryl speaks, “If I ever find ya even talkin’ to her again, I’ll blow yer fuckin’ brains out.”

Tyler looked like he was ready to piss himself. He nodded in agreement aggressively, ready to leave the tense situation. But, as he went to leave the room, Daryl grabbed him by the arm.

“And if I ever see ya touch my woman again, I’ll make ya cry for yer mama before I let the walkers have ya.”

That was enough for Tyler. He bolted out the door, making you laugh. Daryl had an amused smirk on his face, knowing you got a kick out of that.

“My hero.” You joked, leaning up to catch Daryl’s lips in yours. He grunted against your kiss and held onto your hips, pulling you into his front. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Your hands tugged at his hair as he deepened the kiss, putting his hand on the small of your back to keep you upright and pressed against him.

Daryl felt his jeans tightening by the second, so he knew you could feel him hardening against you.

Pulling away, you smiled at him, biting your bottom lip.

“Wanna take this upstairs?” You suggested, bringing your hands to play with the hem of his shirt.

“Hell yea.”

#daryl dixon protective #daryl Dixon #Dixon #daryl #twd #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #amc the walking dead #daryl Dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction

3K notes · View notes

v3nusxsky · 9 months

Note

so i saw you have no Nat request but was wondering if could do wanda and Nat x freader smut with these prompts

48.“Watch your mouth...”

19. “I swear to god I’ll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can’t walk…”

60“You broke the rules…”

with dom Nat and wanda bratty reader

maybe they’re all out at like a bar for a celebration of some sorts and R feels like little left out because Nat and Wanda are talking to each other and barely including her in the conversation so she decides have a little attitude with them . this just gets r less in the conversation so she gets up and sits next to some other girl and fake flirts with her this catches Nats eye . which leads them to take R home and give her reminder of the rules ;)

(aka punishment)

if not Wanda and Nat then just Nat would be fine

if you do this and do the both can Nat be the slightly like harsher one and Wanda not like a completely soft dom but is not as harsh as Nat can be

hope have a lovely day

i love your writing especially “needy puppy”

Bratty Baby 18+

*Authors note~I took a lot of creative liberties here with this one so I hope that's okay and that you'll enjoy it*

Trigger warnings~ dp dom Wandanat sun brat r g!p Nat enchanter strap on wanda harsh dom Nat slight soft dom Wanda, overstimulation kink teasing dildos Voyeurism punishment Dacryphilia size kink voice kink oral fixation mommy and daddy kink smut smut smutttt

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Tony was always throwing parties after every successful mission, you never knew why. Perhaps he wanted to flash the cash and his success but you liked to think his love language is showering you all with gifts and parties to celebrate achievements the team made. You love dressing up for your girlfriends, allowing them to take in your outfits always led to a fun night. The team knew of your relationship dynamics, but had never once questioned either of your girlfriends, probably because they could kick the rest of the teams ass without even braking a sweat.

Normally you'd be hanging off one of their arms all night, but tonight they seemed to be immersed in one another's company. It was like you were third wheeling in your own relationship and for the first time you felt jealousy towards them both. They very rarely included you in their conversations, you didn't know much about it. You tried to show them your hurt at their ignorance but they seemed unfazed by your clear upset. That's when your plan formed. If they wouldn't give you attention then you'd go find someone who will.

Truly you didn't know how it happened but it did, you were leant up against the bar nursing a drink while carol tried to poorly flirt with you, asking about a scar you'd gotten a year ago. You weren't interested at all, very in love with your girlfriends but you could practically feel Natasha glaring in your direction so you fed into it. Fake flirting with Carol seemed to grab the attention of both women so you weren't surprised when both of them came to you. Natasha behind you sneaking a hand to your head while Wanda stood between you and Carol. A little whimper escaped you at the tug to your hair. "Dekta, why don't you let Carol go enjoy her night you are done" she murmured to you eyeing Carol dangerously causing her to flee.

"Draga, you know better than to whore yourself out" Wanda purred causing you to retaliate, "I bet Carol would fuck me right!" The mumble caught by both women causing Nat to rage on and Wanda to worry. "Nat, you're hurting me" you whimpered as she dragged you back to your room with Wanda on your tails. "Nat honey, maybe you should calm down" Wanda tried as you were thrown into the bedroom. The two women began to converse, little did you know Wanda was trying to make Nats temper deflate a little for you. "You don't fucking want me know" you all but screamed at them.

"Watch your mouth you whore" Nat seethed stalking towards you like a animal hunting prey. "ljubezen" the softer one of your girlfriends warned, she meant business but was no where near as angry as Natasha. Natasha held your throat and slammed you into the wall, her lips roughly fighting with yours now. Wanda taking the free time to strip from her clothing while Nat marked up your exposed neck. "I swear to god I'll fuck the brattyness out of you till you can't walk." She growled before dragging you to the bed where Wanda laid spread and playing with her puffy cunt. "Go and eat mommy out, prove you can be a good slut for us."

Crawling onto the bed you immediately tried to kiss Wanda's soft thighs but Tasha forced your head into her cunt, "eat" she growled. Immediately, you began to give kitten licks to her soaking cunt, her clit being spoilt with attention before plunging your tongue into her tight little hole. "Oh fuck, baby yes there yes good girl" Wanda mewled causing Natasha to lean over to slap Wanda face, "she's nothing more than a worthless whore Wanda, do not make me punish you too." Tears sprang in wandas eyes, "oh dekta you look so pretty when you cry, daddy doesn't mean to take her anger out on you. This slut is the one who should get it. Don't you agree?" A yes was squealed as you managed to throw the witch over the edge and fuck her through it.

Natasha once again tugged you up by your hair to spin you around and thrust her hard veiny cock into your tight throat. "Make this wet for daddy slut" was all she offered before thrusting into you. Wanda took the time to calm her body and strap up and enjoy the show. "Natty" Wanda whined when she was ready, "let me have a turn." That was how you found yourself sucking Wandas strap happily while Nat edged you with your aching clit.

Once both women had enough you were immediately positioned on all fours, Natasha lining her self up with your hips to hold them steady. Wanda teasing your folds with the head of the strap, "oh yes baby so wet for mommy"she purred before thrusting in. "Mommy no big too big" you whimpered causing Natasha to smack your ass in warning, "you'll take it, mommy wants to stretch out your fuck hole to make sure you can take daddy's cock." Natasha helped you fuck yourself onto Wandas dick as she stretched out your walls. "Oh god mommy! Daddy! Wanna cum" you mewled.

"Cum my whore" Wanda purred happily as she was approaching her edge too. A rough thrust had you both tumbling over that edge together. "Mine" the red headed Russian growled practically ripping you off Wands dick and thrusting into you from behind. The sheer size of her dick stretching you more than Wanda had. "Mommy it hurts make her stop" you cried hoping she'd take pity on you. "You broke the rules baby" Wanda reminded before completely ignoring the pleas and cries for her to help you.

Nat is a passionate lover but her temper flared often making it hard for her to know when to stop. "Wands look the pretty slut is crying. Look at how beautiful she looks taking me Wanda" Nat panted with every rough thrust, "the more you cry dolly the more I want to ruin you." You'd lost count how many times you came around her cock, the pleasure and pain dizzying. "Stop stop please daddy I can't" you whined, only to be shut up by Wanda popping her breast into your mouth, "shhh baby here suck on mommy."

Natasha happily filled you to the brim as you screamed around Wandas nipple. When she finally slipped from your now gaping hole you could see the mixture of both your cum seeping from your own hole onto the bed. Trying to catch your breath you noticed Wanda slipping underneath your body and Nat repositioning her already hard cock. You weren't even sure how two cocks could fit into your small cunt but these two lovers were determined to make them fit. "Oh look at the cock slut wands, taking both our dicks into your needy cunt"

Natasha shoved two fingers into your mouth as they both pounded into you, it was awkward at first but they soon found a rhythm to overstimulate your poor puffy cunt. Tears streaming like a raging river, you continued to moan and whine as you came around their dicks again and agains. Your orgasm causing you to clamp around them like a vice. Making them cum became the ultimate goal, and when you achieved that you tapped out immediately, the pain now outweighing the pleasure.

Both women flipped like a switch into caring and loving, making sure you were cared for and loved, cleaning up and cuddling with your exhausted body while they whispered words of praise and love until you all drifted off to sleep.

Word count~ 1552

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #anon requested #wandanat x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda marvel #wandanat x reader smut #wanda maximoff #wanda x you #wandanat x y/n #mommy wanda #natasha marvel #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha romanov #nat x you #natahsa romanoff

589 notes · View notes

justabigassnerd · 1 year

Text

Overprotective Aviators

Pairing - Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell x daughter!reader, slight Bradley Bradshaw x Mitchell!reader at end

Word count - 3,873

Warnings - creepy teen boys staring, swearing, overprotective Mav & co

Summary - when your dad and his team catch sight of a group of teen boys staring at you from across the beach they shift into overprotective mode

Sequel - 'The Talk'

A/N - hey y'all it's ya girl back with another request! I had a lot of fun writing this fic. I always enjoy writing the dynamics of the '86 characters (even though I may not be the best at it). Anyways I won't ramble. As per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

“y/n/n, come on! We don’t want to be late you know what they get like!” Maverick calls through the house, pulling his aviators out of his jacket pocket and sticking them on his face. It takes you but a minute to come down the stairs putting your own sunglasses on as you pick up the bag of things you were going to be bringing with you to the beach.

“I’m here, cool your jets dad.” You laugh as you walk past your dad as he rolls his eyes, grabs his keys and follows behind you. The two of you walk to the beach, chatting amongst each other until you reach the beach.

“Who did you say was coming again?” You ask as you scour the beach for your dads’ teammates.

“Goose, Ice, Slider, Wolfman, Hollywood, and their families of course.” Maverick replies as he looks around for his friends, a grin crossing his face when he catches a glimpse of his RIO waving madly in their direction. Maverick points Goose out to you, and you make your way over to him. Goose is quick to drag you into a hug, ruffling the top of your head as you groan and swat at his hand jokingly.

“You’d think you hadn’t seen me in years, Uncle Goose.” You laugh as you’re finally released from the hug.

“Forgive me for missing my niece after I went away for a week.” Goose says, a mocking sarcastic tone to his voice as he places a hand on his heart.

“I missed you too. But just between us, I think dad missed you most. He seemed pretty lost without you.” You say quietly, eliciting a laugh from Goose as he throws his head back. Goose had gone away for a week with Bradley and Carole to visit Carole’s parents and Maverick had moped around without his partner in crime.

“I better go say hi.” Goose says with a grin, patting your shoulder before crossing to Maverick, allowing Carole to sweep you up into a hug.

“Hello, sweet girl! How have you been?” Carole asks sweetly as she hugs you. When she pulls away, her hands remain on your upper arms as she smiles at you.

“I’ve been good Auntie Carole. It’s summer so there’s not been much to do, especially when the Bradshaws are out of town.” You shrug with a soft smile. Carole nods with a smile of her own as she releases you, allowing Bradley to greet you.

“Hey y/n/n.” Bradley greets, waving slightly as your jaw drops in mock offense before tugging him into a hug.

“Don’t you tell me you’re that after a week away you’re too grown up to hug your best friend?” You ask teasingly as you hug him tight.

“Never.” Bradley replies, wrapping his arms around you and reciprocating the hug. Bradley’s hugs always felt safe, his height meant you were perfectly cocooned in his embrace, and it felt like nothing could hurt you.

“Let’s get this party started!”

“Slider, it’s not a party.” You and Bradley break apart at the familiar sound of Iceman and Slider’s friendly bickering. You turn to see the two men approaching your dad and Goose with their wives following behind. Slider had recently married his long-term girlfriend Jessica whereas Iceman had been married to his wife Sarah for a couple of years and was expecting their first child. You went over to greet them happily, hugging each person with a smile as you greeted them.

“Wolfman and Hollywood aren’t here yet?” Slider asks as he glances over at Goose and Maverick who shake their heads with a laugh.

“Those two are never on time.” Your dad laughs as he thinks about how Wolfman and Hollywood would always turn up late to any meet up the team organised. Those of you who had just arrived began to set up the stuff you’d bought. You laid out a towel while your dad set up his beach chair. As you plunge the sun umbrella into the sand to cast a shadow over your dad’s beach seat, you hear the familiar voices of Wolfman and Hollywood as they approach with their wives in tow. Hollywood had his young daughter in his arms while Wolfman was chasing after his rambunctious twin boys. You greeted the aviators and their wives before returning to Carole to help her and Bradley set up some more beach chairs alongside where you’d set up stuff for you and your dad. Once everyone had set up their beach things, you pulled your shirt and shorts off, leaving you in a bikini as you kicked your flip-flops off. You wanted to get some tanning time in, and you figured you’d go for a swim at some point as well. You sit on your towel, at first reading your book while the adults chat amongst each other. The wives took to gossiping amongst each other, wanting to know the ins and outs of what was happening around town while the men talked about how things were going at work. Iceman talked about how he was put forward for an early promotion and was working as hard as possible to get it. You tried to focus on your book, but it became a near impossible task when Bradley sprawled himself across half across your towel, half across his own as he grinned up at you with that lopsided grin you loved so much.

“Can I help you, Bradshaw?” You ask teasingly as you glanced over the top of your book, seeing his large smile which made you smile too.

“We’re at the beach. You don’t need to be reading.” Bradley insists, reaching up to take the book out of your hands, making sure to put the bookmark in for you before tucking the book back in your bag.

“What if I like reading on the beach?” You quip, raising an eyebrow at Bradley who shrugs shamelessly.

“Well, I must be doing an awful job at being an entertaining friend. C’mon, let’s do something fun! I think dad bought a football.” Bradley says, grabbing you by the hands and pulling you to your feet. Once you’re on your feet, Bradley digs around in the bag his parents had bought before triumphantly pulling the football out and holding it above his head.

“Are the old timers joining in?” You ask teasingly as you glance at your dad and his friends.

“Old timers?”

“You’ve got some sass, Mitchell.”

“You asked for it, kid.” Your words sparked mock outrage within the group of aviators as their wives laughed at their shock. All the aviators scrambled to their feet, Wolfman snatching the football out of Bradley’s hands before moving to a clearer area of the beach so you could toss the ball to each other. The group of you pass the ball to each other, laughing as the women call out to their husbands in an attempt to distract them.

After five minutes of playing catch, Slider looks over to where you were laughing and exchanging a high five with Bradley when he caught sight of a group of teenage boys a little way down the beach staring at you, clearly admiring the sight of you in a bikini. Clenching his jaw, Slider gestured for his teammates to join him.

“Sorry kids, the old timers need five minutes.” Slider laughs as the rest of the team approaches him while you and Bradley roll your eyes, content to toss the ball back and forth between yourselves for a bit.

“What’s up?” Hollywood asked, folding his arms across his chest as he approaches Slider, all of them wondering why they were called over.

“There’s a group of boys eyeing up mini Mitchell. They’re just staring right now but I thought we should keep an eye out.” Slider says lowly, just in case either you or Bradley overheard what was being said. When Slider noticed all of their eyes widening, he quickly shushed them before the outbursts could begin. Goose was quick to grab Maverick before he stormed across the beach to give them a piece of his mind.

“Why are teen boys so gross?” Maverick grumbles, quickly locating the group of boys and hating the way they were staring at his little girl.

“Mav, you were exactly the same when you were that age. To some extent, you still act like that.” Goose says, raising an eyebrow and chuckling when Maverick glares over at him.

“Goose, not the time.” Maverick hisses over at his best friend who simply lets go of him and holds his hands up in defeat.

“Alright, we’ll keep an eye out. Just don’t tell her what’s going on. We don’t need to freak her out.” Iceman says, cool and calm as ever but everyone could hear the tension in his tone. He hated when guys would shamelessly stare at women and make them uncomfortable. And he knew that Sarah was pregnant with his daughter, and he hated the thought that she’d be born into a world where men acted like that. The team of aviators share a knowing nod with each other before breaking apart and returning to the game. They play catch with you and Bradley for a little longer until Wolfman’s twin sons decided to start clamouring for ice cream, which causes Hollywood’s daughter to beg for ice cream too. Eventually, the whole team buckled and decided to go and get ice cream. You and Bradley elected to stay with all the beach stuff to ensure nothing was stolen. You kept a vigilant eye on everyone’s belongings while Bradley laid on his back, a pair of Goose’s aviators on his face as he soaked up the sun. Before too long had passed, you heard the familiar voices of your dad and his team as they approached. Wolfman’s twins immediately came rushing over to you and Bradley, proudly showing off their ice creams while Hollywood’s daughter was more content to stick by her mum’s side, shyly offering the two of you a wave that you both returned.

“Isn’t it crazy that it used to just be us two kids? And now Hollywood and Wolfman have kids, and Ice is expecting his first. We’re the oldest kids here now.” You say, glancing over at Bradley who props himself up on his elbows.

“Technically speaking, I’m the oldest.” Bradley says with a smirk before you shove his shoulder, causing him to fall flat on his back.

“Only by a year.” You say, laughing as he reaches out to flick your arm.

“That’s a whole year of life experience I have that you don’t.” Bradley teases, sitting up properly.

“Oh, I forgot. Being fifteen makes you a pro at life.” You say, rolling your eyes as you laugh. As you and Bradley talk, Hollywood decides he’s had enough of the boys staring at you from afar, so he enacts his plan to try and get you to change. He pretends to trip and drops his ice cream all down your front.

“I’m so sorry, kid. Do you have some clothes to change into?” He asks sheepishly as the rest of the team laughs at his mishap.

“Don’t worry. I’ll just go for a swim. That’ll help wash it off. C’mon Bradley.” You say dismissively to Hollywood before grabbing Bradley’s hand and starting off towards the sea.

“Well, that didn’t work.” Hollywood mutters, dropping down into his beach chair and watching as the teen boys were watching you drag Bradley down to the sea. Seeing you and Bradley going towards the sea, Wolfman’s twins started saying that they wanted to go in the sea too.

“Alright boys, I’ll take you down there.” Wolfman says, gaining cheers from his kids. As Wolfman’s wife gets the boys ready, smearing them with suncream the second they took their shirts off leaving them just in swim trunks, Wolfman turns to Maverick and asks for your spare towel, an idea formulating in his head to get the teen boys to stop their hopeless staring. Wolfman then got up from his seat, slinging your towel over his shoulder as he leads his kids down to the sea, laughing to himself as they barrelled in, both immediately being knocked over by a wave. He shot a glance over at the teen boys and he noticed they were now pulling their shirts off and heading into the sea. He noticed how they didn’t make a move to come any closer, maybe the presence of the aviators and Bradley was enough to keep them at bay but not quite enough to stop their stares. Wolfman moves his attention back to his kids and smiles as you and Bradley let them hop on your back letting them splash sea water at each other, laughing as you and Bradley get caught in the crossfire. When the boys tire of the sea, they wade back to the shore and approach their dad.

“Dad, I’m hungry.”

“Dad, I’m starving.” Both boys complain the second they reach Wolfman who rolls their eyes, it had been not even fifteen minutes since they finished their ice creams.

“Let’s go to your mum, I’m sure she packed something for you.” Wolfman urges, guiding his boys back towards his wife so they could dry off with a towel and get something to eat. When Wolfman turned his head to see you and Bradley exiting the sea, he came barrelling over to you, wrapping you up in the towel as you laugh at Wolfman’s sudden appearance.

“Uncle Wolf, no offence but what?” You manage to say through laughter as you’re swaddled in the towel.

“Don’t need you getting cold.” Wolfman says as he takes a step back, happy with his handiwork.

“And you don’t care if I get cold?” Bradley asks, a raised eyebrow as he laughs.

“Just teaching Mitchell junior how a man should treat her. As her uncle it’s important she knows how she should be treated. Take notes Bradshaw junior.” Wolfman says before heading back up to his wife.

“Does he know that your parents are the literal definition of romance? Any girl would be lucky to have you, Bradley.” You grin as you unravel yourself from the towel cocoon that Wolfman had trapped you in. Bradley watched as you walked further up the beach towards your dad with a slight blush on his cheeks. He had been harbouring a crush on you for a while now and he was still working on the courage to ask you out. As Bradley glances around the beach, he notices the group of boys staring and narrows his eyes. He didn’t know who they were but their unashamed staring and jostling of each other made them public enemy number one in his eyes. He chased after you and went to join you again when Wolfman’s twins came darting over to him, now full of food and energy and demanding he plays fighter pilots with them. Bradley looked over at you, seeing you sat on your towel with Hollywood’s daughter in your lap, sunglasses atop your head as you read her the book, she’d brought with her before turning back to Wolfman’s twins and agreeing to play with them. When you finish reading the story to Hollywood’s daughter, you noticed that she was starting to get sleepy and you figured it was time for her nap.

“I got her.” Hollywood says softly as he lifts his daughter from your lap, smiling softly at the feeling of her winding her arms around his neck and snuggling closer. You glanced over at Bradley who was currently pinned down by two hyper boys as you chuckled lightly to yourself but not caring to get involved. As you move to grab your book, Goose, who had been returning from a nearby shop after Carole realised she’d forgotten a water bottle, chose to accidentally trip over Maverick’s beach umbrella. The pole missed hitting you, and the umbrella shielded you from the stares of the teenage boys who groaned and exchanged looks with each other at not being able to see you anymore. Using the opportunity they had, Iceman and Slider glared over at the boys, hoping their joint cold stare would be enough to get them to back off.

“I’m so sorry y/n. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Goose says quickly and apologetically while you wave him off with a laugh, shifting to be sat on your knees so you could get the umbrella upright again.

“All good, Uncle Goose. No harm done.” You grin up at your uncle who ruffles your hair with a smile before moving to sit with Carole. He looks over to where the boys were and they were still looking, not as much as before but still obvious enough to anyone.

“How have these idiots not got the hint yet?” Goose mutters to himself, being overheard by Carole who chuckles and grabs his hand.

“They’re teenage boys, Nick. Boys do stupid things like stare at pretty girls. Our Bradley’s been doing it all day as well.” Carole says, gesturing lightly with her head towards their son who had just been freed from the clutches of Wolfman’s twins and he was immediately looking over at you with a grin.

“We love Bradley. We want Bradley to admit his painfully obvious feelings. It’s different when it’s a bunch of teen boys we don’t know staring from across a beach.” Goose grumbles as he looks from his son to the boys across the beach.

“Aren’t you cold?” Your dad's voice pulls you out of the focus you had on your book, making you raise an eyebrow at him.

“What?” You ask, shocked that question had left your dad’s mouth at how hot it was outside.

“I was asking if you were cold, it’s a little chilly, don’t you think?” Maverick then says, grabbing his jacket and holding it out towards you with an expectant look.

“Dad, respectfully, it’s summer in San Diego and you’re asking me to put a jacket on?” You ask, wondering what on earth got into your dad for him to be acting this way.

“I’m just looking out for my daughter. Don’t need you catching a cold or anything.” Maverick replies, returning his jacket to the bag and leaning back in his beach chair. You rolled your eyes and returned your attention to your book as Maverick muttered under his breath about how annoying those boys were, all unheard to you. Once again, you were torn away from your book by Bradley snatching the book out of your hand, putting the bookmark in and closing it once more.

“I’m letting the team down again. Come on let’s do more beach shit.”

“Bradley Bradshaw!” Bradley was cut off by Carole who was glaring daggers at him for his choice of language.

“Sorry, mum.” Bradley apologises with a sheepish tone, his hand reaching up to rub at the back of his neck as he shrunk further under his mother’s gaze.

“Look at what you men have done to my sweet Bradley.” Carole tuts as the aviator's exchange looks with each other.

“It’s what happens to military brats, unfortunately. y/n’s just as bad.” Maverick shrugs unapologetically, looking over at Carole with his signature flashy smile.

“Let’s escape this conversation.” You whisper to Bradley, getting up and walking away from the conversation with Bradley hot on your heels. Bradley glanced over in the direction of the boys and when he saw them jostling each other and laughing as they stared at you, he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side. He felt a sense of triumph when he looked across the beach and saw the boys finally leaving, all glaring at Bradley who simply gave them a shit-eating grin.

“Is this your idea of beach shit?” You ask, a raised eyebrow at Bradley’s actions as you hoped he didn’t notice your now flushed cheeks. Bradley remained silent, his brain short-circuiting at the way he was holding you. He could handle a hug, holding your hand would cause a slight blush but having you tucked into your side was causing him to stop functioning. He thought about how he had asked his dad for advice on how to ask you out and the only help Goose provided was saying to just ask, that the worst that could happen was you saying no.

“Hey, y/n. Can I ask you something?” Bradley asks, releasing you from his embrace and turning to face you.

“Of course.” You say, a gentle smile gracing your face as he takes your hand carefully.

“Do you think… I could take you out on a date sometime? Maybe that old diner along the beach?” Bradley asks an unusual shyness sneaking into his voice as he looks down at your hand where your fingers interlaced with his.

“I’m free after school on Friday.” You say, your smile widening slightly as Bradley looks up at you. His smile grew ten times larger when he locked eyes with you from behind his sunglasses. He lifted his free hand to set his aviators on top of his head so he could make proper eye contact with you.

“I think I can arrange something.” He says teasingly, making you laugh before he tugged you into a hug.

“Seven o’clock at the diner sound good?” He asks as he squeezes you slightly.

“Sounds like a plan Bradshaw.” You agree.

Further up on the beach, Goose had been watching the entire interaction from afar. He didn’t know what words had been said but he knew that from the shy smiles on your faces that Bradley had said something of significance regarding his feelings.

“Honey, look, I think our boy finally did it.” Goose says excitedly to Carole, drawing her attention to you and her son.

“Oh, look at them. It’s about time.” She gushes, grabbing Goose’s hand as her smile grows.

“Hey, Mav. Looks like we’ve got a wedding to plan.” Goose says over to his best friend, getting Maverick to look at where you and Bradley were now heading down to swim in the sea again.

“Absolutely not.” Maverick says, cringing at the thought of his daughter marrying anyone.

“Maverick, you know better than anyone that our Bradley is perfect for your daughter. She lights up around him. They’ll get married, mark my words.” Carole says, making Maverick shake his head with a chuckle before focusing his attention back on you and Bradley, where you and his best friend’s son were in the sea. He’d never admit it to anyone, maybe to Goose if he was drunk enough, but he knew Bradley was the guy for you. He saw the way you looked at each other and it was exactly the kind of pure love Goose and Carole had. He wanted nothing but for his daughter to have someone who could keep her safe when Maverick couldn’t, and Bradley seemed to step into that role without a hitch.

“I’m making a bet. Fifty bucks says we have a Bradshaw-Mitchell wedding in our future.”

Maverick couldn’t even begin to argue with that and so silently prepared himself to be giving Goose fifty dollars in the future.

2K notes · View notes

spooky-holtz · 4 months

Text

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff (possibly alludes to smut at one point? If you squint?)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I know Christmas was almost two weeks ago but this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. So enjoy, even if my timing is a little off :)

--------------------

December. Quite easily the best and worst month of the school year. As another calendar year winds down, so do rigorous lesson plans, with most teachers at Abbott choosing to give in to the growing excitement among the students as the holidays draw nearer.

Less time is spent actually teaching and a lot of allocated lesson time is spent watching movies on huge, outdated TV screens, students gathered around the devices on Eagles rugs that were so generously ‘donated’ by Melissa earlier that year.

As the month goes on you find yourself spending more time inside your classroom, herding the group of preteens that make up the school choir as successfully as you would herd cats. Needless to say, it’s been a stressful few weeks of carol singing and rehearsals, trying to convince a group of kids that it’s not ‘lame’ or ‘cringe’ to appreciate music the way you do.

As the resident music teacher at Abbott Elementary, you find it incredibly difficult to get young people inspired in the way you so desperately want them to be, often having to let go of the talent you see among some aspiring young musicians for reasons outside of your control. Though the budget doesn’t stretch to allow much in the way of extracurricular activities, choir practice is the one activity where you have your greatest tool already at your disposal; your voice.

As much as you adore these kids, getting them to concentrate after a full day of learning is no easy feat, with them often choosing to sit around in groups gossiping or scrolling on Tik Tok rather than join you around the old piano that stands in place of a desk in your classroom, where you sit on your creaky stool, waiting for them to join in with you.

After a particularly difficult lunchtime choir practice in the middle of December, you find your feet carrying you to the sanctuary you often retreat to during your breaks: the teachers’ lounge. You trudge along the hallway, the heels of your sneakers squeaking slightly against the polished concrete floor as you struggle to find the motivation to get you there, dragging your feet along the floor.

As your hand wraps around the handle and you pull the door toward you, you’re instantly engulfed with the scent of burnt coffee and the sound of chatter as the little groups that sit around the room carry on their conversations, entirely too distracted to notice the door opening.

Jim Gardner addresses the room from the small TV that sits on the opposite end, his newscast largely going unnoticed by the audience as they munch on leftovers or pore over today's newspaper. Much like Jim, your entry into the room goes unnoticed save for a pair of emerald eyes that you can’t help but glance toward.

Melissa is already looking back at you over the rim of her glasses, phone in hand, the slight frown on her features already telling you that she’s noticed the lack of energy you carry. You can’t help but be drawn toward her, almost as if being pulled in by an imaginary force. She’s already pulled the empty chair by her side out by the time you reach her, and you collapse down on to it, sighing heavily, leaning your elbows forward onto the cold surface of the table in front of you for support.

“Choir practice really that bad today, huh?” she asks, sympathy laced across her face.

“I swear, these kids are turning me grey even faster,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cradle your forehead, “I mean, seriously, how hard is it to get through ‘Silent Night’ without laughing at the word ‘virgin’?”

The silence that comes from the redhead is deafening as you turn your head slightly in your hands to catch a glimpse of her expression. Her lips are pursed slightly, and her eyes are a little too focused on your hair, doing everything she can to avoid eye contact; a telltale sign that she’s fighting back a laugh. When she finally reaches enough composure to meet your eye line, she can’t help but snicker.

The sound makes you take your head out of your hands and throw her the most unimpressed look you can muster, though it’s a halfhearted glare.

“I’m sorry,” she begins to apologize, “but that word was probably the funniest thing ever when I was that age too. Cut them a little bit of slack.”

Great, so not only do your students think you’re a ‘nerd’ for making them sing carols but Melissa does too. Because having the woman you have an enormous crush on think that is exactly what you needed to round out your year. Almost as if she can sense your descent into overthinking, Melissa breaks the silence.

“Hey, I’m just messing with ya,” she says. She reaches forward, pulling you out of your spiral, and rests her hand on the thigh that sits closest to you, patting gently. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your eyes dart to hers at the comment and you’re met with a wink. The simple move turns you into putty, melting you to bend to her will. Her hand burns through the material of your slacks where it still lays against your thigh, her thumb rubbing gentle circles in an effort to soothe you. You’re sure your face is matching that same level of heat that radiates from it.

She smiles back softly before turning back to her phone, leaving her hand resting against the patterned material you wear. The contact grounds you and helps you to think a little more rationally. While she’s distracted on her phone, you reach forward onto the table to grab Melissa’s worn Stanley Tucci mug and steal a swig of the steaming black coffee that sits within. The harsh flavor makes you wince, with you preferring your coffee with milk and an obscene amount of sugar to make it even barely drinkable. The expression you wear causes Melissa to giggle, the redhead having looked up almost knowing that your face would be a picture of extreme disgust.

As she laughs the hand on your thigh squeezes and she leans into you, the lines around her eyes accentuated by the deep laugh that’s taken over her being. You decide that this is the most beautiful version of Melissa you’ve ever seen. Carefree, happy, and relaxed.

The moment comes to an abrupt end as Barbara enters the room, both you and Melissa turning to the creaking door as it opens. Her eyes naturally fall to your table, much as your own do when you enter the teachers’ lounge, and her gaze lingers on you before she speaks up, barely giving herself a chance to sit down.

“Oh sweetheart, you look terrible,” she says, concern laced across her features. She’s not wrong. You know the bags under your eyes are worse than ever, having forgone sleep to choose which Christmas carols are least likely to make a room full of elementary schoolers insult you. You wish you had just chosen to sleep instead because every option you threw at your group of angels ended with nicknames being thrown right back at you.

“See, I told you that you looked bad,” Melissa says, the playful glint in her eye accompanied with the squeeze of your thigh letting you know she’s kidding.

“You look like you need this Christmas break,” Barbara adds, “Actually, why don’t you come to the little shindig Melissa and I have here on the last day? Get that break started early for you.”

It’s worrying how quickly you accept the invitation but Melissa’s hand on your thigh paired with the musky smell of her perfume makes it impossible to decline.

“Of course, I’ll come! Do I need to bring anything?” You ask.

“Nothing at all, we’ve got it all covered,” the older teacher replies. “Just bring your dancing shoes.”

You’ve visibly relaxed at the prospect, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your company. While you’re distracted taking another, albeit smug, sip of Melissa’s coffee, Barbara shoots the redhead a knowing look, quirking her eyebrow as she does so. For a split second, Melissa turns the same shade of red as her hair, caught out by Barb and the confession of a pretty obvious crush she gave a few weeks ago. She quickly manages to regain her composure, hand still resting on your thigh and phone still in hand.

You would think that a full week later, after hours of Christmas songs later, that you would be sick of carols. But you still find yourself sitting in the teachers’ lounge long after the rest of the faculty has left the building on the final day of school before winter break, with your usual duo and the addition of Mr Johnson. The room is filled with a warmth that doesn’t just come from the school’s subpar heating system, but instead from the situation you find yourself in.

You feel a slight buzz from the copious amounts of wine you’ve consumed since the end of the school day, your stomach lined with Melissa’s incredible cooking and sweet treats brought in by Barbara. You feel that Mr Johnson is in the same boat as you as he mills around the room, plastic cup filled with what you can only assume is even more wine, swaying by himself to the record that plays from the relic of a radio that sits on one of the many cabinets in the room.

Your attention is immediately drawn elsewhere when Melissa’s cackle fills the room, her and Barb sharing stories that they’ve no doubt already told each other a few dozen times over the years. You completely miss the anecdote, but you still can’t help a smile from breaking out on your face at the sound of laughter, the noise acting like music to your ears – it’s far better than anything that could possibly be played on that radio right now.

Almost as if by cue, the pair finish their story and the older of the two decides to rise from her chair, beckoning to you as she does so.

“Come on, I wanna start to shake my groove thing,” says Barbara, already swaying slightly from the few glasses of wine she’s consumed herself. You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, matching her action and standing from your chair yourself, moving further from the security of the table as a swing version of “Jingle Bell Rock” continues playing. “I need a dance partner and you’re the perfect height so get yourself over here.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before her hands quickly mold you into shape, moving one of your own to her hip whilst the other grips your open palm.

“Wow Barb, at least buy a girl a drink first,” you grin as she swats at your shoulder, giggling along herself. The bells on the front of her extremely festive bright red sweater jingle as she does so. The swaying of your ‘dance’ lasts for a mere few seconds before Barbara interrupts it herself.

“Melissa, I think we may need to swap places,” she says as she glances at where Mr Johnson stands, eyes still closed and nursing his plastic cup of wine. “I have a feeling Mr Johnson may need some assistance.”

Melissa mumbles her response as she comes nearer to you, seamlessly swapping places with the elder woman. You completely miss the wink that is thrown her way from Barb, eyes still focused on Mr Johnson’s one-man party.

When you turn your head back to face in front of you, you’re naturally drawn to the bright green eyes that sit slightly below your eyeline. You feel your heart stutter in your chest at the sight, rarely getting to see them this close. It always baffles you how many shades of green, blue and brown come together to create a colour that can only be described as ‘Melissa’. You realize you’ve been staring a little too long when a change of song and her words break you from your thoughts.

“Come a little closer, you can’t dance properly if you leave enough room for Jesus and the 12 disciples,” she says, her tone playful and smile wide. You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter as her hand snakes from your hip to the small of your back to bring you in closer. There's no mistaking who is leading who.

When you bring your head back Melissa is considerably closer than before. She’s so close that you can see each individual eyelash under her thick layer of mascara and eyeliner, along with the slightly smudged edge of her lipstick, the deep red of the wine making the colour even richer. The smell of her musky yet floral perfume invades your senses as she looks up toward you. You move your hands from her shoulders to link together behind her neck, her red curls tickling your wrists.

You can feel every slight movement she makes as Frank Sinatra croons at you both as you sway slightly in place, too scared to move too quickly in case you scare each other. Her thighs almost touch yours and your chests are almost entirely pressed together. You hope she can’t feel your heartbeat; the speed and intensity of it would almost instantly give away your feelings toward her. Her body this close to yours makes your head spin, your mind racing with possibilities of other situations you may find yourself this close to her in.

You can feel every breath she lets out against your lips, making you aware of how little it would take to connect them with her own. You’re pretty sure she’s noticed too because of the way her eyes keep flicking down to look at them every few seconds. You can feel her hands burning a hole through the material of the shirt against your back. As if she can hear your thoughts, she moves them slightly lower, coming to rest against the waistband of your trousers and dangerously close to your backside. What you wouldn’t give for her to just bite the bullet and slide them into your back pockets to pull you impossibly closer to her.

“You know, I, uh, never wished you a happy Christmas,” she breaks the tense silence, almost whispering as if anything too loud might startle you. “So Happy Christmas, Hun.”

She wears a slight smile on her lips, suddenly dropping the hard exterior she always carries to become the softer, more vulnerable version of herself you’ve come to fall madly in love with.

You can’t help but melt at the sight, your head dropping forward to lean your forehead against hers. She welcomes the move with ease, closing her eyes as you both sway slightly to the music, never moving from your position.

“Happy Christmas, Mel.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #reader fanfic #self insert #fluff #writing #wlw #reader fic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti self insert #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti fluff #lisa ann walter fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader

188 notes · View notes

skzhua · 4 months

Text

Caroling to my Heart

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Lee Minho x Female!Reader

Genre: Inspired by A Christmas Carol, Christmas love story, angst, fluff.

Word Count: 14,653

Warnings: Swearing, talks of regrets, mentions of alcohol, heartbreaks.

Summary: Christmas is meant to be spent with your loved ones. Minho stopped loving a long time ago.

A/N: Credits to my boyfriend for the general idea of the plot (story is all me, though)

November nearing its end, Chrismas was approaching quickly. Children playing in the snow, shops filled with decorations to sell for the holidays, sales everywhere for presents shopping, music playing everywhere you go; truly the most wonderful time of the year.

At least, that's what most people think.

Chan has always loved Christmas. He always took it as an opportunity to gather up with his college friends with whom life was always enjoyable. Jeongin had recently gotten a promotion at work which he took very seriously, Hyunjin finally opened his dog rescue center a few years back, Felix was happily getting married in the following spring, Seungmin had finally started to get recognition for his stand up comedy shows, Changbin had entered a production company with Chan, and Jisung was finally seeing someone after not daring to date for years.

And then, there is Minho.

Him and Chan used to be the closest friends ever, and Minho was always the life of the party. He messed around in college, got good grades, made his way up to become a successful lawyer. Overall, things had turned out pretty well for him.

What Minho considered as his biggest accomplishment was his lover. The apple of his eyes, the prettiest woman he had ever laid eyes upon, the sunshine of his life. Y/N was in the same major as him, one of the top students. It started out as a very typical college love story. He was annoying her, she found him funny, they were paired for a project, they got closer, and they got together in a matter of weeks. From that point, life was perfect. They moved out together after college, adopted a ton of cats, went on so many trips outside of the country... they even got engaged.

That was until Minho messed it all up, losing everything he loved the most in one go.

Ding dong.

Jumping at the sound, Minho takes a second to recover and puts the movie he was watching on pause. He checks the clock; it is 7 o'clock in the evening. He wasn't expecting anybody to visit him. Nonetheless, he goes over his front door and looks into the peephole. He isn't surprised to see Chan waiting patiently with a plastic bag in hands. He rolls his eyes in annoyance before letting his friend in, greeting him boringly.

"Hey, Chan," he says before yawning loudly.

The older man looks him up and down, analyzing every bit of his friend's appearance. "Wow, you look like shit."

Minho doesn't answer, giving Chan the death stare instead. "What do you want?"

"Well," he starts while allowing himself to get comfortable on the couch. "Jisung is presenting his new girlfriend to us and because you didn't answer in the group chat, I thought I would check on you."

"Tonight? No, I have to get up early tomorrow."

Chan's shoulders drop as Minho, once again, declines an invitation. "You haven't come to see us in months."

Minho shrugs, visibly not seeing a problem. "I'm just very busy. I have cases coming in all the time and I can't trust my associate to work on them."

"You're overworking yourself, a break would do you some good. Besides, we miss you."

It's not that he doesn't want to see his friends, of course he does. He just knows very well he'll only end up ruining the night by not being the funny guy he used to be.

"I don't know."

Chan takes a nicely ironed shirt out of his plastic bag and puts it on the coffee table in front of him, and stands up to walk to the door. "You're welcomed to drop by if you change your mind. It's at the restaurant we used to go in college."

"Why the shirt?" Minho's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Consider it as an early Christmas gift from me."

After throwing a small smile his way, Chan opens the door and leaves. Minho finds himself alone again, perplexed. He approaches the shirt and scrutinizes it. It's a designer piece which does not surprise him, Chan has always been the kind to go an extra mile for his loved ones. Looking at the clock again, it indicates 7:20 P.M. Does he still have time to go? It would mean he has to shower, get dressed, drive all the way to the restaurant... Right, that specific restaurant.

He will visit his friends, just not tonight.

2 years ago.

Christmas was the most important holiday to Y/N. It brought so much nostalgia to her and she absolutely adored every aspect of it. Baking cookies and go ice skating were part of the many activities she loved doing in December.

This was also the first year she had to spend it away from her family. She didn't regret choosing to study so far away from home but it hurt nonetheless. It would be difficult and Minho knew that.

Y/N had to work an extra shift that night if she wanted the day of Christmas Eve off. It was ridiculous, she thought. As if the restaurant really needed her to stay so late. Coming home, Y/N was so glad to finally be able to relax as she climbed up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Minho was waiting excitedly at the front door of their shared apartment. He made sure the gingerbread cookies were all ready to be assembled to construct a house, checked if the Christmas lights were working fine, and put a playlist of Y/N's favourite holiday songs on his speaker.

"Soonie!" he yelled frantically at his cat as he saw him get on the counter. "You don't want to ruin your mama's night, do you?"

He picked him up and brought it close to his body, petting his head lovingly. Needless to say, this couldn't be a cuter sight to have when Y/N walked in.

"Hey, my two favourite boys," she chuckled at them before taking in how well-decorated the home was. "Min, did you set up all this?"

Her boyfriend put his pet down before bringing her into his arms. "I did. You've been feeling off recently, I thought it'd be a good idea to cheer you up. And since Christmas is next week, why not decorate cookies for the occasion?"

"You made gingerbread cookies?!"

Y/N's eyes lit up from seeing the baked goods and she rushed to go sit at the counter. Minho smiled at himself, proud he had managed to lit up her inner light just a little.

"Thank Felix for these."

"Well, thank you Felix."

Present.

Minho remembers every night she came home from that workplace. He always tried to make her feel better each time, Y/N despised working so late but she somehow always stayed positive.

How much he misses her.

Minho gasps for air, sweat all over his body. He had another nightmare, nothing unusual. What is odd is the phone ringing nonstop at this hour of the day; 4 o'clock. Who in their right mind would call someone so early?

"What?"

The person on the other side of line doesn't respond, Minho can only hear them breathe unsteadily.

"Hello?"

"Minho," Jisung finally speaks. "Sorry to bother you this early."

"It's 4:00 A.M."

"I know, I know. Just, I'm getting worried about you and I can't call you tomorrow –well, today– or you'll say you're busy with work as always. You're not okay and I think you could use a friend."

Although not wrong, his statement fueled Minho with annoyance and frustration. He doesn't need help, or anyone for that matter.

"Minho?" Jisung speaks up again as he doesn't get a response.

"Good night, Jisung," he simply says with the intention of hanging up.

"Wait!" he hurries to stop him. "If you don't want to talk for your own sake, at least do it for mine. Not just mine, the other guys' too."

Sure, Minho hates talking about his feelings. Still, he's not a monster and cares a lot about his friends nonetheless. Feeling a bit obligated, he agrees.

"So, uhm, who's your new girlfriend?" he asks, getting uncomfortable already.

"She's a friend of Jeongin. Remember that girl he worked with in college? Well, that's her. She's so nice, I wonder why Jeongin hadn't introduced me to her sooner. She kind of reminds me of..." he trails off but stops himself before stepping out of line.

"I'm happy for you two. I'm sorry I couldn't come."

Jisung lets out a huff. "Thank you but I know you could have, you just didn't want to."

"That's not-"

"Don't lie, Minho," he cuts him off. "You didn't come because of her, am I right? Because of Y/N again?"

Minho can feel his heart tighten while his friends keeps going at it, insisting on speaking about her. He doesn't want to, is it so hard to understand?

"Let's not talk about her."

"That's the problem, Minho. You never want to open up about it."

"She left. What is there more to say?"

"How you're coping with all, how we can help-"

"The only thing you can do to help is leave me alone. I'm doing just fine. Talking was a bad idea, I should go back to bed."

"Min..." Jisung says in a desperate voice.

"Good night."

As he hangs up, he can sense it might have gone too far. Regardless, he discards his phone on his nightstand and buries his body in his bedsheets. He hears meowing coming from the entrance of his room. A second later, his cat Dori jumps on the mattress to come and lay next to him. Minho reluctantly cuddles the cat back, his last one he got with Y/N. Dori is technically her baby but she left so suddenly that Minho had no other choice but to keep him.

"Where are your brothers?" he whispers affectionately to the ball of fur who replies with some more purring. "Are Soonie and Doongie sleeping too?"

Chan is probably the only one able to get Minho out of his house, especially during Christmas time. Maybe it is guilt or shame that he feels, but Minho hasn't been so great ever since he had his early chitchat with Jisung. Shopping for presents wasn't what he had in mind when he thought of making up for it but Chan insisted it would be a good idea.

"Look," he says while pointing at the pig plush on the top of the pile. "It looks like Changbin."

Minho shrugs. "I guess it does."

"What about this?"

He looks boringly at the shirt Chan is showing. Yeah, maybe he should have done something else to make the most of his day off. A good meal at home seems so much more appealing to him.

"Come on," Chan encourages him. "Enjoy a bit."

"I am enjoying, look," Minho tries to convince him with a forced smile.

"Hmm, maybe it's time to go to the food court and take a break."

Dragging his friend behind, Chan moves from restaurant to restaurant in search of a meal for his lunch. After a while of debating internally, he settles for a hamburger. As for Minho, rice with pork seems to be tasty enough. They sit at a table and start to eat in silence. Minho looks around the place, watching people chat and laugh. He sees one couple in particular and they remind him too much of Y/N. Adverting his gaze from this spot, he focuses back on his food before speaking.

"I was thinking of buying a new hoodie for Jisung."

Chan is surprised his friend is even conversing with him but smiles. "A hoodie? Doesn't he have plenty of them already?"

"He does but he sent me a picture of one specifically the other day."

"Then you should buy it for him. Have you heard from him, by the way?"

Minho gulps. "No."

Although suspicious, Chan doesn't push it. They quickly finish their lunch and decide to head towards a clothing store to find Jisung's present. At a certain point, they unconsciously part ways as they look at different pieces of clothing. Minho would look for Chan but he has the hoodie to find. Chan is fine on his own anyway, he tells himself. He goes to the right section and begins to browse through each item. He frowns as he inspects them, not convinced these would be appropriate for his friend.

"Minho?"

He freezes in place. Has he gone crazy or has he just heard Y/N's voice?

"Minho," she says again.

Finally turning around, he is somewhat relieved that it isn't his former girlfriend, but her sister. "Deena," he greets her politely.

"It's been a while, wow. How have you been?" she asks cheerfully, too much in his opinion.

"Nothing much."

She seems taken aback by the short length of his answer. Minho used to be the nicest man she knows. Of course, she doesn't know the full story about what happened. Nonetheless, she still considers Minho as family. So seeing him so lifeless in front of her is quite a shocker.

"I'm in a bit of a rush but we should go grab coffee soon and catch up," she suggests but from the look on Minho's face, she knows she shouldn't have.

"I'm pretty busy."

"Alright," she answers, uneasy. "I'll see you around then."

"Yeah."

Without adding anything, he resumes to looking through the hoodies. Deena eventually leaves and Minho feels like he can breathe again.

He has nothing against his former "sister-in-law" but seeing her so unexpectedly is not something he has prepared himself for. He will go grab a coffee with her when he feels ready to.

Chan comes back a few minutes after with a couple of black shirts and an oversized pair of jeans he picked for Jeongin. As they wait to pay for their things, Minho can feel that Chan has something to say. It wasn't an abnormal occurrence but this time feels like it's eating him inside.

"What is it?"

Chan hesitates for a second. "It was Deena, right?"

He hums. "Yes."

"I'm running out of ways to tell you appropriately but you need to get your shit together. The girl did nothing to you and she seemed to be on the verge of crying when she left the store."

Minho rolls his eyes, like always. "What do you want me to do? Run after her and apologize? I didn't do anything."

"Exactly. Dude, everyone around you is getting sick of your way of dealing with what happened. Sure, your feelings are valid. This doesn't mean you have to inflict your pain onto us. We only want to help," Chan responds, not realizing his tone is increasing more and more.

"Always wanting to play the good savior, uh?" Minho scoffs. "In front of strangers too? Look, I don't need you to tell me how to be. You're not my dad or anything."

"I took you under my wing in college, of course I'm still looking out for you."

"That was back then. I don't need your pity anymore."

Chan's jaw clenches as the two men stare right into the eye. The cashier awkwardly calls for them to proceed to payment which breaks their staring contest. They hurry to pay before storming out of the mall, both of them fuming with anger. The moment they get into Chan's car, the latter explodes.

"This has lasted long enough. How long has it been now? A year?"

"Eleven months," Minho corrects.

"Whatever, same difference. My point is that it might be time for you to move on or at least stop being such a pain in the ass."

Minho's eyebrows raise as he lets out a chuckle. "I didn't know such strong words could come out of your mouth."

"Minho," Chan says in a warning tone.

"So what if I'm not as easygoing as before? You don't understand how it feels anyway."

"Help me understand, then!"

"You just wouldn't!"

He surprised himself by yelling so harshly. The hint of regret creeps up but he tries to hide it by looking away. They both know this is the end of this conversation, neither want to continue anyway. Chan starts the car and the ride home can't be any worse. The tension is so heavy, he swears he feels his body crushing.

Still in silence, he drops Minho off in front of his apartment complex and drives away. Face blank, Minho goes in his building and lazily enters the elevator. It's like he's in a daze, not fully aware of himself. Before he knows it, he's back home sitting at his counter with three cats waiting patiently in front of him as they expect him to fill their bowls with food. But he remains still and stares at nothing in particular. Has he gone too far this time?

In all of the people he knows, Chan is the last one he would have thought to snap at him so harshly. Most importantly, he never thought he'd yell at him for no reason. For the first time in a while, Minho allows one single tear drop from his eye.

Christmas has come. Well, almost. Work has been the same and no contact have been made with anyone for the last week or so. The lack of human interaction felt both good and bad, but mostly aching.

Every day is the same, Minho realizes. Waking up, eating a very mediocre peanut butter toast with coffee, scrolling through his feed on social medias, getting dressed, going to work, bossing his ass off in return of a less than decent pay, coming back home, eating, washing up, going to bed, sleeping, only to do the same all over again the next day.

In a way, he loves not having to think about planning things out. On the other hand, his life is becoming more and more dull with less of a purpose. Why is he alive for if it's only to do the same task over and over again?

For a change, Minho decides to start a Christmas film instead of rotating watches of the same five movies. A mistake he does is not reading the synopsis before pushing play on the remote. He settles comfortably on his couch while Soonie and Doongie cuddle next to him. Dori is somewhere nearby, playing with a piece of paper Minho had dropped on the floor earlier that week.

At first, the show is boring he thinks. The more the story develops, however, the more he sees the resemblance between himself and the protagonist. The movie is A Christmas Carol, one Y/N once had begged him to watch with her. Scrooge is very unlikable, there is no denying in that. But Minho tries to ignore the similarities he shares with him and keeps on watching the screen in silence. At some point, it simply became impossible to ignore the tightness in his chest. In an abrupt move, he turns the TV off, picks up his two cats, and heads to bed.

Christmas is so near, he thinks as he is watching his alarm clock getting closer to midnight. He really does his best to not make a big deal out of it but his mind can't stop having these images of Y/N, his friends, Christmas... everything. He can't escape pain, no matter what.

Thankfully, Dori comes in his room to join the other felines which distracts him for a second, just long enough so he can finally fall asleep.

The clock indicates 11:55 P.M. when Minho is in a deep sleep and the only sounds that can be heard throughout the whole flat are the appliances running and the cats snoring. Maybe some snores are coming from the man himself but they are faint. Slowly, Doongie wakes up. He wiggles around to find a new comfortable position but fails and falls off the bed. Luckily, cats always land on their feet. He was going to hop back on the bed but a weird sound catches his attention. It sounds like a bell. Curious, he comes out of the room in attempt to find where it comes from. But nothing. Or maybe there is something.

A faint light can be perceived from the bottom of the front door. The cat carefully gets closer, lowering his body. In a single snap, something flies right from under the door and moving straight into Minho's room which scares Doongie well enough to go hide in his cat tree and let out a cry.

This immediately wakes Minho up as his instinctive cat dad senses take over but it is soon replaced with an unsettling feeling as he sees the bright light in front of him. He squints as it almost blinds him but he wants to know what it is. He can feel his heartbeat increase by the second as the source of light gets closer and closer. Holding his breath, he shut his eyes closed and moves his head away from whatever that is. Until he hears a sigh too familiar to his liking.

He dares to open his eyes and his shoulders drop at the sight. "Chan?"

It's not exactly Chan, it is more of a ghost-like version of him. He wears a very formal suit with his hair styled with gel and his body is translucent, making Minho very skeptical. This is a dream, he thinks. Chan is very much alive and very much not in his apartment. Certainly not after the events of the other day.

"I see you didn't even reach out to me."

Minho frowns and looks around the room as if to make sure he really is speaking to him. "What do you mean?"

Chan chuckles, his voice sounding more like an echo. "After our fight, dumbass! Come on, you weren't going to leave things as it is until Christmas."

He checks his alarm clock quickly. "Well, it is Christmas."

"In five minutes," Chan smirks at him. "I know the past few months have been hard on you."

"Great, even my subconscious is trying to fix me," he whispers to himself, loud enough that the ghost-like figure hears it.

"As in a dream?" Minho nods to the question only for Chan to laugh some more. "You're funny. Anyway, I'm not here for fun. I'm here to help you."

"You tried that already," Minho grumbles in an annoyed voice but receives a shook of the head as an answer.

"My human self tried, I haven't tried yet. You see, I only appear if I'm really needed and your case is a pretty severe one."

Minho tries to protest but is quickly shushed.

"Look, this is a night shift on Christmas Eve, I don't want this any more than you do so let's do it quickly. I'll send you three spirits tonight before it hits midnight. They'll guide you through your entire life and help you make the right choice. Got it?"

"Midnight is in five minutes."

"I know."

"But-"

"You'll understand," Chan cuts him off. "As for now, bon voyage."

Not even conscious that he had been awake —or dreaming— Minho hears a snap of fingers before opening his eyes widely and gasping for air as he wakes up. He is still somewhat confused, but rather glad this was simply a dream. He can feel that the sweat has gone through his pyjamas and makes a face out of disgust.

Quickly, he eats breakfast and freshens up before leaving for work. Yes, he is working on Christmas day. This might be the only way he can get distracted from everything going wrong in his life.

As he approches his work building, he notices a young man. He looks awfully similar to Jeongin but not quite. Curiosity gets the best of him, however, and Minho instinctively walks up to the man. He takes a moment to scan his appearance: he's shorter than Jeongin, has light golden hair and wears loose white streetwear clothing. He also takes notes on the grey of his eyes.

"Lee Minho!" he says cheerfully before Minho could let out a single word.

The man jumps in surprise. "Jeongin?"

He shakes his head as a no and smiles brightly. "No, my name is P."

"P..." Minho repeats slowly, slightly confused.

"Shall we go in?"

He doesn't wait for an answer as he begins to walk and Minho automatically follows him into his building, assuming this boy might be a new worker in his firm. They hop onto the elevator together and P pushes the button to level 7. As Minho is about to look for his own floor, he notices something odd. The building has 26 levels. So why the hell are the numbers going up to 30? He slowly turns to come face to face with the younger man who keeps a wide smile on his face, fear creeping in.

"Who are you?" he dares to ask.

"I told you, I'm P!" the boy repeats with an even bigger grin, almost creepy. "Short for Past."

Oh. Oh no. It all suddenly clicks in Minho's head. Either this is a dream occuring because of the movie he had watched before going to bed or this is his own story of A Christmas Carol. He pinches the side of his arm, hoping he would be back in his room but it only results to him hissing in pain.

"Do you remember your Christmas when you were seven years old?" Minho can only glare at him but P doesn't seem to care. "This might refresh your memories."

The doors of the elevator open right after and not only are they not in his workplace anymore but the setting is exactly as he remembers it from his childhood. They are right on the street of his parents' home. The street is empty, understandably so because of the light snow falling down and the cold weather. It is early in the morning and his childhood home looks much smaller than he remembers, and in a much poorer state.

P walks out first before turning around, encouraging Minho to follow. "Can they see me?"

"No."

The answer satifies Minho and he finally steps out of the elevator, letting himself get led by this Jeongin look-alike. He wonders why this specific time was chosen in all of his years of life. He ponders the idea of asking P but it soon vanishes when he spots his younger self coming out of the house with his parents observing him in a loving way. A knot forms in his belly. He hasn't talked to his parents since Y/N left. Are they doing okay? Maybe he should have called a few times at least.

"Can we bring one home?" younger Minho asks his mom, eyes full of hope.

"Do you want a kitten as your Christmas gift?" his mother asks and the child happily nods. "We'll go see the cats and I'll think about it, okay?"

Satisfied enough, he skips down the street while humming a Christmas song. Oddly enough, it is Y/N's favourite: Winter Wonderland.

Minho watches his former self with nostalgia. He remembers the moment perfectly. This was the first time he ever owned a cat after begging his mother to get one years after years. He had named her Nala, which he thought was very clever at the time.

"Can we follow them?"

P takes his hand, much to Minho's surprise, and they begin to float just slightly above ground and fly right to where his past self is. He doesn't question the spirit about how this works and resumes to watching himself coo at the cats. For a brief moment, his eyes advert from the scene and land on his parents. But there is something catching his attention. He sees his father emptying his wallet as well as his mom before they give it to the worker. His breath gets heavier as he looks back and forth from them to himself.

"Is this why my mother stopped going out for tea with her friends? And why my father couldn't take my mother out for dates? They used to argue so much about it..." Minho almost whispers.

"Parents make great sacrifices for their children," P says longingly.

"Why didn't they tell me?"

P shrugs. "Probably because you were a literal child but also because they didn't want you to feel bad."

"My grandmother would have helped us in an instant if she knew."

P shrugs again. "They didn't want help."

He easily catches on why the ghost brought him at this exact moment. Just in time, Minho gets a hold of himself and says in incoherent words that he won't fall for P's tricks. The latter isn't nearly fazed by this statement and he takes the man's hand to bring him back to the elevator in a quick flying trip.

After the door closes, Minho is relieved that he can finally go back home. That is until P pushes the button for level 18 which earns a frown from Minho.

"Aren't we done?"

"No, you have other things left to see before I send you back. Well, a few more years to see."

"And me at 18 years old was an important year?"

P sends him a knowing look but he acts clueless, as if he doesn't know what happened back then although it's painfully obvious he does. Denial is the best way to cope, isn't it?

The doors open to the hallway of his college dorm he used to share with Chan. He can instantly recognize the said-man and Changbin joking around before they walk in his dorm. Without waiting for P, Minho follows and freezes when he stumbles upon Y/N. This moment was merely over two months into their relationship but he could tell he already knew she was his everything at that time.

Y/N greets the two boys and encourages them to put their wrapped presents under the mini Christmas tree she had insisted on making to display in his small living room. Meanwhile, a nearly adult Minho is unwrapping takeout as he watches the scene with a huge smile.

"What took you two so long?" he asks, walking towards the group with the food in hands.

"Chan's fault," Changbin immediately accuses, earning a stare from the older man.

"Not true."

"I'm not the one who lost Hyunjin's present."

Hyunjin's eyes lit up. "You got me a present?"

A small smirk appears on Chan's face. "I got all of you a present."

"Even me?"

Minho's heart tightens. He still struggles to listen to your voice and because you were there physically in front of him, it pains him so much more.

"Even you."

"Can we open them?" Felix asks, eyes lighting up.

"After eating," younger Minho says in a stern voice. "Otherwise, you'll get your dirty ass hands on the gifts, or on anything for that matter."

Y/N glances at Jisung with a knowing smirk that his friend returns, something he hadn't caught onto back then. She still hastens to give Minho a hand with all of the food dishes, not forgetting to give a napkin to each person. He knows he can be a bit peculiar with keeping his place tidy and he never wanted Y/N to feel pressured with that. Still, it visibly seemed to have been a common issue she and Jisung had with him.

"Y/N, I thought you were supposed to go back home for the holidays," Seungmin tells with food already being chewed in his mouth.

"I was," she confirms. "Minho and I determined we wanted to spend our first Christmas together and, sorry, but I rather be here than with my aunts. They were going to be all over me about not knowing what I want to do with life, I can spare myself from it."

The whole group lets out a laugh as they go on with their feast before discussing all sorts of things. Hyunjin and Chan are in the corner laughing their asses off, much to Minho's dismay who is keeping a close look at his white carpet. Hyunjin has always been clumsy and this wouldn't be the first time he spills something.

Present Minho watches it all, fully aware of what is about to happen. He never regretted getting mad at his friend for a small spoil but this kind of behaviour is one of the many that contributed to his separation. He sees what P is trying to do by showing him this.

"I get the point, can we go?"

P chuckles. "After you know what."

In shame, he observes from the corner of the eye himself exploding at Hyunjin for staining the carpet, Chan nagging at him for doing so, the boys uncomfortably watching the scene as they back away from him... and he catches a glimpse of Y/N getting the necessities to get rid of the sauce stain, not even complaining.

"I think we're good here," he tries again to convince P.

He receives a playful smirk from the spirit. "Are you sure?"

Minho groans but, nonetheless, nods. "Please."

P is quick to grab his hand and fly right back into the elevator, doors shutting behind them. He does give Minho a minute or two to recuperate from the sight before pushing the button 24. Minho's eyes are stuck on the lit up number and gulps, feeling suddenly hotter. That was last year.

"Don't you have another Christmas to show me before..." he trails off.

He is met with no answer and has to settle for the tranquility of the metal box going up. Anxiety keeps letting itself known through his body the more the number rises. Finally, after what felt like eternity to him, the ding sound signals that they have reached the level.

"You might want to prepare yourself for this one."

Minho huffs and glares at the ghost as to tell him "no shit". The doors slide open and they are already in his apartment. At least, P was kind enough to spare him from reliving what triggered the actual argument.

His cats are all doing their thing as normally. All seems out of the ordinary until he feels footsteps through the ground. He takes a deep breath in and watches Y/N barge into the place, hair messy and tears streaming down her face. The guilt pit down in his stomach when he sees himself step inside after you, throwing his scarf carelessly on a chair.

"Are you going to talk at least?" he asks, looking down at Y/N who scoffs at her boyfriend's question.

How dare he is the one demanding explanations from her?

"Are you going to talk about it?" she questions back, crossing her arms on her chest.

"Oh, come on, I didn't do anything."

"Telling everyone you want to call off the engagement is something."

P hisses in a disapproving way. "Man, you outdid yourself with this one."

"Shut up."

Y/N still waits for Minho to speak up but nothing comes out of his mouth other than his unsteady breathing. In a swift manner, she walks behind the counter and fills their cats' bowls in the meantime of waiting still for her lover to say something. But the man stays where he is, observing his surroundings in awkwardness.

"Minho," she finally calls out.

"I didn't call off the engagement."

"Really? Saying getting married is bullshit isn't telling everyone you don't want to marry me?"

"It's not like that. I meant it's not a necessity for us to know we love each other."

"You don't get that marriages can mean something other than that, it's so much more."

"It's an excuse to spend thousands of dollars on things that will last a day or two at most."

Y/N buried her face in her hands as she let out a groan. "You've always been like this."

"Realistic?"

"No, a grumpy old man. You can't see the beauty in anything."

Minho smirks for a second. "I see beauty in you."

"Don't try with your sweet words, Lee Minho," she says, raising a finger up at him. "You know exactly what I mean. I can give you so many examples. Firstly, you never buy me anything on Valentine's day because it's a marketing holiday. Then, you want every single aspect to be perfect and at their exact place although life isn't like this. And finally, you just see the negative everywhere, always pointing out what is wrong. What happened to my sweet Minho who would smile at the slightest thing?"

He remains quiet as he sits on one of the dining table's chairs. Not knowing what to do next, Y/N copies his actions and gets seated in front of him. They don't dare to look at each other just yet but Minho most definitely wants to. His ego too big, he doesn't budge.

"Minho, please," she begged.

"Alright, it's enough."

P lets out a huff. "The action barely started."

Clenching his jaw, he doesn't insist more and settles on looking at the ground while the scene he had been trying to forget about for almost a year was happening right in front of him. Minho hates it, his heart is bleeding in pain.

"I've grown, maybe that's something you should consider doing as well," he hears himself say.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he can't contain himself from looking at her, he never knew how she had reacted to his words. The view he has in front of his eyes makes his heart shatter in an instant. He swears he can see her soul leave her body just now. Had he really done this to her?

"What- Min, I-" she tries to speak, but struggles.

"Y/N, we want different things now."

She chokes out on her tears, the ones that she finally lets stream down her face since she had been containing them. She hated crying, especially with Minho.

"No, we want the same things," she affirms, her voice breaking. "You've just become too obnoxious and focused on your career that you don't see it anymore."

"You think I'm the obnoxious one? Y/N, have you seen yourself?" Minho asks in a loud voice as he gets up from his chair. "You're so full of bullshit with your positivity and ignorance towards actual problems, it makes me sick. Take the cat, for example. We don't have space for a third one but yet, here is Dori who can't even behave properly. And your Christmas decoration is taking too much space too."

"This is about space now?"

"Yes, I need space! And I'm sorry I cancelled our last date but I just can't deal with you right now. You're in the way and I can't work and- Fuck, I don't know how to tell you but we can't keep on going like this."

Her breathing is becoming more unsteady while the tears are still flooding out of her eyes. Present Minho approches her and tries to put a hand on her shoulder, but it goes through. Right, he forgot. He is not really there.

"I didn't want to call off our engagement. But maybe I do now."

Slowly, she gets up and walks towards their shared bedroom which leaves a perplexed and helpless Minho standing alone in the middle of his dining room. He hears unknown noises and hesitates on whether he should go to you or wait. But again, his ego takes over and he stays right where he is.

Soon later, only a couple of minutes, he sees Y/N walk out of the bedroom with one bag and two suitcases full of her belongings. His face dropped immediately.

"You're leaving?" he asks, desperate. No answer. "For how long?" Still silent. "Y/N, please, I know we can figure it out."

Her lower lip quivers as she sobs some more, trying her best to ignore the man in front of her. She dares to walk towards their front door, not acknowledging her lover for one second.

"My love, please," Minho tries once more.

And just like that, she walks out, door shutting quietly behind her.

"We've seen enough."

P is about to say no when he catches Minho's watery eyes. He taps himself on the back mentally, he didn't think he would break down so fast. Taking him by the forearm, he leads him towards the elevator. The doors slide shut rather fast, which Minho is thankful for. In a careful move, P presses the ground floor button and the elevator goes down.

Once arrived, the doors reveal Minho's bedroom. It looks the same as it did the night before. Minho takes notes on that, it means his night is far from being over.

"I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"You will," P reassures. "I'll leave you alone, now. It was my pleasure being your guide for tonight."

As the two men exchange a small smile, more as a form of respect, P begins to glow, brighter and brighter. So much that Minho can't even look at him anymore and is blinded. He tried to look away but even then with his eyes closed, the light goes through.

Suddenly, there's nothing.

The morning is brighter than he thought it would be. He swears he saw on the news the day prior that Christmas day was going to be gloomy. The blue sky with the sun shining is definitely a pleasant surprise.

Enough with admiring the weather, Minho finishes rapidly his coffee, grabs his briefcase, and heads out to work. As he walks towards his building, he can't help but think of his dream from last night. He did expect dreaming of Y/N but not having to relive the day she left so vividly.

As he is about to cross the road, he feels his body collide with someone which is soon followed with the feeling of burnt. He curses out loud and is considering telling the other person off. Only, it is someone he hasn't seen in a while and who has a face he definitely recognizes.

"Hyunjin?"

The man cocks his head to the side and frowns. "Are you Mr. Lee?"

Minho, as equally confused, nods. "You don't recognize me?"

The Hyunjin look-alike seems to take notice of his whereabouts and clears his throat. "I apologize, sir. This is my first year working as a guiding spirit. Shall we start over? Hi, my name is P."

Suddenly, Minho has flashbacks of his encounter with the boy of the same name. Was he still in the dream? Or was the Chan spirit saying the truth? He feels a lump growing inside of his throat as the P man in question goes on about himself.

"I'm sincerely sorry about the coffee I spilled, let me fix this," he says before splashing Minho's figure with gold dust. The stain instantly disappears. "Now, where was I..? Oh, right! I'm P, short for Present. I was assigned to you to review your Christmas of this year."

At this point, Minho doesn't have it in him to protest. Without saying a word, he walks in the building as P follows him behind. This one spirit is much giddier than the previous one. The moment he steps in the elevator, he does nothing but look around nervously. It is with a heavy sigh that Minho empresses himself to push the button next to 25.

"I thought I forgot something, thanks," P laughs nervously, receiving a glare in return.

The ride up is quiet and awkward but when the doors open, they both step out in sync and walk along the trail of snow. The Christmas market is an event that the real Hyunjin takes part in each year. He always contributed with an animal rescue center to help them give puppies up for adoption.

This year is especially important to him, it is the first time he does it with his own dog rescue shelter. For the occasion, a few of the boys promised him they would come by to encourage him. Including Minho.

Far from the distance, Minho sees Felix and Seungmin arguing about whatever while Chan greets warmly their friend who has just finished setting his booth up.

"Guys, come look at the doggies," he calls the younger men who rush to pet the furry creatures.

"I'd call this one Seungmin," Felix jokes as he picks up a baby labrador.

Hyunjin laughs at the comment. "Her name is Daisy."

"Not very original," Felix allows himself to point out to which Hyunjin chuckles again.

His laughs trails off while he looks around, brows furrowed. "Didn't Minho say he'd come too?"

Chan sighs heavily, giving one of the poodles some scratches. "I called him but he didn't answer. Plus, we had an argument last time I saw him so I don't think he'll come."

"About Y/N again?" Seungmin asks and Chan nods. "The number of times I told her to talk it out with him, she really should call him. The guy is getting on my nerves."

Minho's heart stops for a moment. Not only because he finally knows what his friend thinks of him but also because he apparently has been in contact with Y/N, without his knowledge. He thought all of his friends haven't heard from you since.

"I told her too but what can I say? They're both stubborn," Felix shrugs. "I thought of stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers."

"Oh, please. He'd kill you if you even mention her name."

The four men share a sad laugh before changing topics. Hyunjin is careful with each dog as he introduces them one by one. All of it becomes a blur for Minho, he doesn't know if he wants to leave now or listen more to it. As much as it hurts him, he can't help but be curious.

"Did you know this?" he finally says, turning his body towards P.

"I did read it on the report paper before meeting you but, hey, I don't know you all," he responds with his hands up in defense. "We can go see her if you want."

Minho ponders for a moment. Was he ready to face her once again?

"No. Not yet."

"As you wish. Your friends are having a party tonight if you didn't know. We have to see that."

"I know, yeah."

P takes his hand as they float away all the way to Changbin's house. Before setting foot on the ground, he can already see all of his friends with Felix's fiancé, Chan's wife and Jisung's new girlfriend. Everyone is there. Except him.

He carefully approaches the group inside the living room where the girls are busy putting the presents under the Christmas tree. What takes him aback the most is seeing a tall and beautiful woman coming down the stairs before placing a kiss on Changbin's cheek. Since when is he seeing someone? It takes everyone a few minutes to settle down and serve themselves drinks. Once everyone is sat, they hold their glasses up for a toast.

"Who wants to do the honours?" Jeongin asks and Jisung immediately gets up.

"Merry Christmas, guys! Thank you for this year and thank you to Changbin for hosting the dinner tonight," he says, bopping his head towards him. "And let's have a moment for our Minho. He might not be here but he's in our heart. Let's hope he can get back on the right track next year."

There is a pause in the room, everybody suddenly feeling a wave of guilt and sadness. They know they've done everything for their friend, but they still feel like they should have tried harder.

Minho, this time, doesn't try to contain his cries. He walks up Jisung and smiles, just a little.

"Thanks, Hannie," he whispers.

"To Minho," he cheers, holding his drink higher.

"To Minho."

P lets out a cough, grabbing Minho's attention. "Not to be a mood breaker but I think you should see Y/N."

"What do you mean?"

"See what she is doing at this exact moment."

He surprisingly agrees with no hesitation and they both float away to another neighbourhood of the city. One Minho isn't too familiar with. This must be why she chose to move there, somewhere she knew she wouldn't encounter Minho. They float down at the apartment's balcony and Minho can see her right away through the window.

"You can go through walls," P informs and he does as told.

He's surprised to see her alone with her sister. She used to be a social butterfly, he wonders what happened. Deena sets the table while humming to Christmas music and Y/N finishes up with cutting the ham. It's not as Christmas-y as it should be, it's rather sad. The atmosphere is sad.

"Need help with that?" Deena offers.

"I'm good, thanks," Y/N answers as she brings the dishes on the table.

She looks paler than he remembers, maybe because of the lighting. Her hair is longer and she seems to have dyed it brown. She's also much skinnier.

"Thank you for cooking," Deena smiles warmly at her.

"It's nothing," she smiled back and begins to serve herself a plate. "I would have definitely given a piece of ham to the cats if they were here."

Deena shakes her head. "How many times did I tell you that I can go get them back?"

Y/N shakes her head too and sighs. "He loves them as much as I do, maybe even more. Who knows how he would survive without them."

"He's not really surviving, if you want my opinion. You should have seen him at the mall the other day."

Y/N shrugs while playing with her potatoes. "He's coping in his own way."

Her sister lets out a groan, desperate. "Jeez, you two are so sad to see, it's depressing."

Well, if Minho wanted to be sure Y/N is still struggling with getting over their separation, he has his answer right there.

"I'll be fine and so will he. Besides, it's not like we lost everything. I still have you and he has the boys."

Deena deadpans at her and then points at her ring finger. Minho looks at it more attentively and allows himself to gasp quietly. Y/N still has the ring, the one he proposed to her with. After what he said to her, she still wears it?

She is quick to pull her hand off the table and cover it with her sleeve. "It's a pretty ring."

"It means more to you than that and you know it."

"He didn't want to get married and it's alright. We grew apart and it is what it is. Can we talk about something else now?" she says in annoyance.

"Y/N, Felix, when he called-"

"Stop," she cuts her off. "Felix doesn't know what happened. He doesn't understand."

"Okay, I'll stop. But just so you know, this is doing no good to anybody, especially the two of you."

Minho can't hear any more of it. In a second, he turns around and goes back to the balcony which indicates to P that the visit is over. The ghost throws some of his golden dust in the air and the elevator magically appears next to them. They step inside and press the button to the ground floor.

As it goes down, Minho is looking away from the spirit, he has a certain pride to maintain. P hesitates but decides to put his hand on the man's shoulder.

"Can I just say? In my whole year of working, this might be the only case where I really empathized with my client."

Minho moves his hand away from him and grumbles something under his breath. P doesn't hear it properly but it goes along the lines of "I don't need empathy, don't act like you care".

When they get to his room, the spirit is quick to take a leave, leaving Minho alone in his cold room. At least he has his cats. He has them because of Y/N's kind heart knew he needs them.

At least, maybe she still cares a little.

The formula is the same this morning. So much that Minho knows he isn't going to work and is still trapped in this weird loop of exploring his life. He doesn't bother dressing properly nor bringing what he needs for his job. He doesn't even change his cats' water.

The moment he walks in his workplace, it doesn't even take him a second to spot the ghost of his future. It's Jisung this time. Well, not him exactly.

"Hello, my name is-"

"F, I suppose? For future?"

The spirit, stunned, slowly nods. "Usually, people are happy to see me."

"I had a long night, buddy. Just show me what you have to show me and I can move on with my life."

F doesn't argue with him and he leads him to the elevator when he presses the button 30 right away. "We'll do the quick version since you're in such a rush. I would have gone through 26 beforehand but-"

"What happens next year?" Minho interrupts him.

"No, you want this to be quick. I respect that. It's Christmas anyway, I can make an exception."

"What happens next year?" he repeats.

F smiles knowingly before glancing at the button 26. Minho, hesitantly, goes ahead to press it himself to which the ghost responds with a satisfied smirk. Before he knows it, they already reached the level.

As the doors open, Minho soon recognizes Jeongin's penthouse. Looks like that year's Christmas is settled to be at his place. Jeongin is alone with Changbin as they seem to be preparing food and drinks for the guests they are expecting. It is soon confirmed when Jisung walks in without knocking, alongside with his girlfriend. In the following minutes, each of his friends, sometimes with a significant lover, come inside and the party gets louder and merrier. However, after Hyunjin arrived, it dawns on him that his future version himself won't take part on that year's dinner.

Just like the previous year.

After chatting some more about what they are up to in their lives (nothing much other than Felix getting married but everyone knows as they attended the ceremony), Changbin calls everyone for dinner and they sit around Jeongin's dinner table.

"Can I make the toast this year?" Jisung asks, earning looks from his friends.

"You did last year, I say our host of the night does it," Seungmin suggests and they all seem to agree.

So, a bit uncomfortable still, Jeongin gets up with his glass of wine in hands. "Thank you for another year of our usual Christmas party. I'm really glad all of you were able to come. Of course, we still have a thought for our Minho who won't be joining us, yet again, tonight." The guests exchange glances in agreement and let the youngest continue. "Merry Christmas and let's enjoy our meal!"

They cling their glasses together, wishing a merry Christmas to one another, and don't lose another second to attack their plates. Although it pains him to not see himself enjoy the feast with them, Minho is somewhat happy. At least, they still have each other.

"Why couldn't he make it, anyway?" Chan asks around the table, looking at anybody who might have the answer.

The only person to answer is, unsurprisingly, Jisung. "The last time I saw him was in September and he said he had some issues with the cats. I don't know if he was making up excuses but he seemed to be alright."

"It was a miracle he even showed up for my wedding," Felix scoffs, making Minho huff. "An even bigger miracle was that he didn't make a scene when he saw Y/N there."

"They left together, no?"

What Seungmin just said gives him some kind of hope. Wanting to be sure he would hear every detail, he gets closer to his friend who continues to speak on the matter.

"I know they drank a lot but has someone seen what they were doing?"

"He was cuddly," Jisung answers. "No, clingy as hell. Poor Y/N who had to drive him home."

"They could have made up then?" Chan questions and Jisung nods.

"But we all know him, he missed his chance to fix things again."

"I really thought inviting both of them would have put an end to their mishaps," Felix sighs, discouraged. "I'll send Minho a message later."

"We could call him all together?" Chan suggests but by the reactions of everybody, this is not an option.

Just like that, they change subject and continue to discuss cheerfully about everything and anything. F gives a sad smile to the man, who watches the scene feeling beaten. There must have something really wrong with him that his closest friends wouldn't even wish him a merry Christmas.

"Where am I while all of this is happening?" he asks the ghost.

Carefully, he is transported away from the penthouse and directly to his apartment. The moment he takes in the sight of his place, he sees how nothing much changed in a year. Everything is still where it was during the present year.

His hair is longer, he notices. Not only that but he grew a bit of a beard, a choice he questions a little. His cats are still doing their thing, none of them appear to be sick. What particularly catches his attention is the glass filled with a bright yellow liquor that is set next to him as he scrolls down through his feed on his tablet.

Is he drinking? He does have a few occasions where he'll consume alcohol but a glass full of whiskey is new.

Soonie jumps on the counter and, unlike what Minho would automatically do as of right now, his future self pushes the cat off. He gasps in horror and runs to catch his pet. Only, he did forget he isn't actually there and that things pass through his body. Fortunately, Soonie is fine.

"I should text her, at least," he hears himself say.

The man he sees is far from being remotely close to what he is. Hair messy, tie loosened and a beer belly growing; he wonders what caused him to let himself reach this point.

Future Minho opens his e-mail app and clicks on New Message. He is quick to find Y/N's e-mail address, which real Minho takes as a sign he must have done the same more than once in the last year. He tries to read what he is typing but the amount of typos is quite overwhelming. Despite that, he manages to make out a somewhat coherent note.

___

Hey,

I know I should probably not be writing this but it is Christmas today so, merry Christmas. Remember how we used to go out with the others and play stupid games until late? Then, we'd come home and I'd make you a hot chocolate before going to be? You remember all of that, don't you?

I miss it, and I miss you. I know I said I'll stop writing but you broke my heart, Y/N. How can I forget and ignore what happened? You left so suddenly for no reason. I should be furious, maybe I am. No, I know I am. I still can't help myself but longing for you.

Have a jolly holiday, even if it's without me,

Min xox

___

"Wow, that's pathetic," Minho breathes out after reading. He turns to face F and frowns. "That's a year from now?"

"Precisely."

"No, it can't be. I'm alright, I moved on."

F visibly tries to contain himself from speaking on that, but he can't. "You're one oblivious man."

"I am okay!"

F scoffs. "Sure. Now, shall we visit you at 30 years old? It's Christmas and I have others plans after this."

Minho keeps finding it ridiculous how these ghosts continue to act as if they are actual people. He's still dreaming, why would he bother imagining spirits with personalities?

He is soon led to the actual elevator of his apartment building where F presses the button quickly. Once the level reached, the doors open to a beautiful wedding reception, leaving Minho confused. He does not know anybody other than Felix, who is supposedly already married by then, who is engaged.

The two men walk around the room, recognizing a few faces, and Minho finally spots himself sitting with his friends. At least he isn't alone, he tells himself. He goes straight ahead to observe the scene where he is obviously bored and sick of being there. He does notice how his appearance seem much better than before with gel in his hair and a tuxedo well ironed on.

"Are you sure you're alright?" Chan asks him in a concerned voice.

"Stop with that, I'd leave if I wasn't fine," Minho rolls his eyes.

"You haven't spoken to her, though."

"You really are good at observing, Chan," Minho responds in a mocking way and the older man simply sighs.

Suddenly, the entirety of the room begins to cheer loudly and clap. Minho tries to follow their gaze to find out who they were waiting for. After moving around to see through the dozens of head, he finally spots her. And him.

Y/N. It's her wedding. And she invited him of all people?

His brain short-circuits and he feels his heart pounding faster and faster. He can't think properly anymore, the only thing he can vividly see is her. How she smiles at every single person who congratulates her. How she clings onto this man as if her life depended on it. But most importantly, he sees how her smile just gets sadder when her eyes stop on him.

He knows time stops for the two of them before they walk towards each other. He knows so many things are still left unsaid. Gaining back his consciousness, he follows himself to watch what is about to happen.

She hugs him, a bit awkwardly. "I didn't think you'd come. Thank you."

"Congratulations," Minho says, retracting from the hug as fast as he can. "You two make a fine couple."

"Thanks," she chuckles. "Look, Min-" she starts but Minho shakes his head.

"Don't, it's okay. Enjoy your day."

Grateful, she sends him one last smile and moves to thank other guests. Chan, at this point, can do nothing else but pat his friend's shoulder. Surprisingly, Minho doesn't budge. He does, however, let one single drop fall from his eye.

"That's it?" he exclaims, now looking at F. "I'm not even trying? I just gave up? What even happened between then and that moment?"

"I've shown you plenty, you can figure it out by yourself," F says calmly and then begins to walk back to the metal box.

Minho, refusing this as an answer, runs to join him hastily. "Who's this guy, anyway?"

"Does it really matter? You two are not together anymore."

"Yes, if it can help me to prevent this."

"So you don't want her to be happy?" F perks an eyebrow making Minho groan in frustration.

"I'm asking you what I need to do to change this. It can't be like this. I'm the one who's supposed to marry her."

F smirks as they walk in the elevator, presses the button to the ground floor and finally looks at the man. "You know what has to be done, you're just afraid."

"Of what?"

"Oh, please. Stop with the act. How has the last year really been like for you?"

Minho gulps, already feeling himself choke up. "I-" he starts. "It's been hell."

F nods. "What else?"

"Y/N was right, as she always is... I'm the one who lost myself with time. I did want to marry her and I did not think she was obnoxious. Certainly not..."

He starts to cry, heavily this time. There is no more hiding or denying, he just said it all out loud. Regrets and pain, that's what's been eating him. He sobs as everything finally hits him so brutally. He lost Y/N for good. Or he will lose her for good if he keeps acting the way he does.

And his friends, the only people who stick with him through everything. The ones he keeps pushing away in fear of himself.

"You're home," the spirit says, interrupting the moment.

Minho doesn't hesitate to crash into his bed and sob some more. Even if F wanted to leave so badly, he doesn't think he should just yet. Cursing at himself, he comes to sit on the bed and pats the back of the broken man.

"It's alright, let it all out. You've had a rough night."

Minho hiccups and sniffles before glaring at the ghost. "No shit."

"You know, I think you can fix this."

Minho shrugs. "I've been horrible to everyone."

"You acknowledge it, that's a start. From there, only you can decide how things will be." F looks at his watch for a second and gasps. "I'm late for my next human! Good luck with everything."

Minho doesn't watch him leave. He is still crying but he has no more energy. He desperately wants to wake up, but mostly, he wants to see Y/N.

Minho doesn't wake up until the later morning. With the dream he just had, the sleep deprived guy seriously needed more than eight hours of resting. He does miss out work but, honestly, is not bothered the slightest. In fact, he is grateful he won't be working today.

After feeding Soonie, Doongie and Dori, he determines he should catch up on the gifts he planned on offering to his friends. Walking to his home office, he pulls out the wrapping paper he hadn't touched in a while and begins to wrap each and every single one of the presents he bought. He is definitely happy to have made some purchases the day he went shopping with Chan.

The task does grow tiring and boring after a while. To keep himself motivated, he plugs in his speaker to play some music and hums alongside the lyrics. He hasn't done that for a long time. As he is about to skip the current song playing on his playlist, his solo karaoke session is interrupted by a call coming in.

Not bothering to look at the contact, he answers happily. "Merry Christmas, you joined Lee Minho. How can I help you?"

The other side of the line is silent but he can hear that there is someone. Frowning, he repeats himself to encourage the person to talk.

"Minho, it's Changbin."

"Oh, hey! How are you doing? I was about to call you to ask what you wanted me to bring for tonight."

He senses that his friend is quite taken aback and he smiles proudly to himself.

"You're coming?"

"Unless I wasn't invited-"

"No, no," Changbin cuts him. "You're always welcomed, you know that. I'd just expected you to say you have work or something."

"I was supposed to clock in but I didn't feel like going to the office. Oh, by the way, can I ask a favor from you?"

"Uh, yeah, go ahead..." Changbin replies, skeptical.

"I know you're still in contact with Y/N."

Changbin, on his side, freezes. "How did you- Min, I swear we all wanted to tell you-"

"I'm not mad. I just wanted to know if you could possibly invite her and Deena for dinner, please? Don't tell them I'll be there, though."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, I want it to be a surprise."

He doesn't say anything for a minute, processing what is happening. "Then, I'll invite them and say you aren't coming."

"Good! See you tonight! And tell your girlfriend I'm excited to meet her!"

He doesn't let Changbin question him on how he learned about his girlfriend and hangs up. Resuming to his activity, he stops when he sees Soonie playing with wrapping paper. Filming him, he coos at him before giving him loving scratches.

"I won't ever hurt you, I promise," he tell his cat, recalling what happened in his dream.

When he has finished with wrapping his gifts, he goes to his closet to find an appropriate attire for the night. For the last year, he hadn't wore anything other than work clothes and sweats. The nice shirt Y/N once bought him catches his attention. The dark green buttoned blouse seem to be a perfect match for his black clean pants. He changes fast and does not forget to add a few pieces of jewelry to finish his look.

He is all set to go. But one look at himself in the mirror at his entrance stops him for a moment. It suddenly clicks that he is a couple hours away from seeing Y/N again, for real this time. Although terrified, he has found some peace with it from the events of the previous night. He wants to make things right.

And one thing he can do just now is call his parents, the ones he has been ignoring for a year. He did expect his mother to cry but certainly not his father. Both incite him to come to his hometown in the following days and he can't refuse the invite. Not when they are begging with their puppy eyes.

"I'll come for New Year's, does it sounds okay?"

His mother nods vigorously through the screen of his phone. "Will Y/N be coming with you?"

He might have left out that he isn't with her anymore. Seeing the look on his parents' faces, he does not have the heart to tell them yet. Instead, he goes with a safe answer.

"I'll see with her if she can clear her schedule, but no promise."

"Tell her she's always welcomed here whenever. Merry Christmas, son!" his father wishes him adoringly.

He smiles, feeling suddenly nostalgic. "Merry Christmas to you two!"

And he hangs up.

Before going to Changbin's place, he doesn't forget to stop at the Christmas market to pay his friend, Hyunjin, a visit. Mentally preparing himself to face a pissed off Chan, he strolls between the booths and stops at a few of them. Some are selling soaps, a lot of them in fact. Others sell clothes they crocheted themselves and a few offer samples of their baked goods.

A few minutes later, Hyunjin's golden locks are easily found from afar. Minho also spots Chan, Seungmin and Felix. He has a heavy case of déjà-vu when he sees the four of them discuss with frowns on their faces.

Discreetly, he walks towards his friends who don't take knowledge of his presence yet. That is until he arrives right behind Felix.

"-stopping by her place today to see how she's doing but Minho would kill me if he discovers," the man is telling the others, oblivious that Minho is hearing everything.

Seungmin gulps and nods his head towards him but Felix cluelessly frowns. Hyunjin does the same which finally makes him turn around and come face to face with Minho. His eyes grow twice their sizes and his mouth opens slightly in shock.

"Hi, Yongbok," Minho says, unbothered. "Cute puppies you got, Hwang."

Hyunjin smiles, thankful. "Do you want to pet one? I've got this chihuahua that looks like Kkami."

He doesn't have the time to answer when a small dog is suddenly placed in his arms. With no complaint, he pets the puppy affectionately. The four men look at him, rather confused, and say nothing. They simply have no idea on how to react to this.

"Minho, what I said about Y/N- She- Uh... We-" Felix stammers out his words but Minho interrupts him.

"I know and it's all good. She is your friend too, I can't be mad at her for wanting to keep you all around."

"I see you've made some thinking," Chan finally speaks up, eyes stern.

"You can say that... I'm sorry about the other day, you were right. I shouldn't have shut you out of my life," he admits, much to his own surprise.

"Apology accepted," Chan grins. "A little birdie told me you asked Changbin to invite Y/N and Deena for dinner."

Seungmin's eyes lit up. "So you changed your mind? You'll come?"

Minho huffs. "I never said I wouldn't come."

Hyunjin sneers. "I know someone who'll be ecstatic about that."

The girl paces the floor nervously, biting her nails as she waits for her sister to arrive. Even if Changbin assured to her that her ex-fiancé wouldn't be attending the party, she can't help but feel like he will find out. She already feels guilty for keeping contact with his friends, who knows how he would react if he learns she went to celebrate Christmas with them.

As Deena finally walks in the apartment, she lets out a heavy sigh of relief. "Finally!"

Her sister rolls her eyes. "It took me barely five minutes to get here."

"Still," she chuckles sheepishly. "Thank you for coming with me."

"What would you do without me?" she exclaims dramatically. "For real, it's very nice for them to invite you. Especially after last year. Plus, it's better than our sappy sister date night."

Y/N lets out a small laugh but resumes automatically to biting down her lower lip in nervousness. Deena notices it but doesn't comment on it. Instead, she rushes her to leave, saying they will be late otherwise.

In the car, Y/N can't wait any longer. She has worries and needs to let them out or she'll go mad.

"What if Minho ends up showing up?"

Deena gives her a look but answers nonetheless. "He won't. And if he does, he'll have to suck it up and be an adult about you being there."

"Do you think he'll get mad when he discoverd that I still talked with the guys?"

"Y/N, for fuck's sake, it's not your problem to deal with! He's the one being a little bitch. Besides, you're not with him anymore."

"It doesn't mean I want to hurt him... and..."

She doesn't complete her sentence since she knows Deena must have understood right away. Y/N is still hopelessly in love with Minho. As much as she believes that leaving was the right thing to do, there were so many instances where she tried to convince herself that he'd change if she goes back to him.

She knows, deep down, she might be right on that.

"I can't believe you're actually here with actual presents!" Jisung almost yells as he brings his friend into a warm hug.

Hyunjin scoffs. "Let the man breathe! See, Min? I told you."

Minho taps Jisung's back a few times as to tell him to let go but he refuses, tightening the embrace. Jeongin is the one to break them apart to be the next in line to hug Minho. Everyone is baffled by his change of heart but they look past it and are simply grateful to have gotten their friend back.

"So? Is she coming?" Minho asks Changbin once he greeted everybody one by one.

"She confirmed she is."

Chan frowns and takes him by the shoulders. "Are you sure you want to talk to her?"

"Things were left unsaid, I need to clear this out once and for all."

Ding dong.

Oh. Now things are getting a bit too real, and panic begins to settle throughout his entire body. With once glance exchanged with Chan, it somehow reassures him. Still with his heart beating fast, he retreats himself behind the group as Changbin goes ahead to open the door.

She looks just like he remembers, stunning. There is, however, a hint of something he can't quite understand. She is paler and shyer. Past that, she is the same. While hugging everyone with her bright smile on her face, she shines. Minho is not too sure if he wants to ruin her brightness by letting his presence known. Looking around nervously, we wonders if this was a bad idea after all.

Before he can escape, he hears his name being called from afar; Jisung. Cursing at him mentally, Minho steps aside from behind Hyunjin and waves, embarrassed.

To no one's surprise, there is a moment of awkwardness settled in the room. While Minho is too ashamed to look back at her, Y/N can't rip her gaze away from him. She can't believe he is actually there. She has to make a mental note for later to smack Changbin for lying to her.

The moment is interrupted by Deena, thankfully. "Hey, Minho! I didn't think you'd be here."

"Hi Deena," he replies in a small voice.

This seems to be enough for the others to resume to their thing: Changbin taking his guests' coats to the other room while his girlfriend offers drinks, Deena putting the presents under the Christmas tree, Chan's wife and Felix's girlfriend sitting in a corner to discuss... Y/N, however, does not budge. Not until everyone leaves the entrance, revealing Minho standing in front of her.

"You dyed your hair?" he finally says, more or less to break the weird tension between the two.

She chuckles and runs her fingers through her longs brown locks. "I did, I thought a change might be good."

He nods as he puts his hands in his pockets, rocking his body back and forth. Now what? He knows he wants to talk about the obvious, but how?

"You're wearing that shirt," she points out with a smile. "It fits you well."

"Thank you. Your dress is cute."

"Thanks. I haven't wore this in a while."

"In a dress or not, you're cute either way."

She blushes. It's not as bad as she thought, they can at least do small talk. Still, this is far from being what she was used to with him. It suddenly snaps in her mind how much she missed him.

"I'll go get a drink, you're welcomed to come along," she offers which makes Minho smile.

Changbin's girlfriend makes no complaint when Minho asks her to make a specific drink, one Y/N would always get when they were together. It does not get unnoticed by the latter and she is amazed he remembers such details even after not speaking to each other for a whole entire year.

"You seem to be doing good," he comments once they get a hold of their alcoholic drinks.

"I'm not too bad. I joined a new law firm and, hopefully, they'll let me work on a case on my own."

It pains him to know she is still struggling with work, this was never an issue for him. "One day, someone will recognize your competence."

"Easy for you to say. I've heard you climbed status and have your own office?"

"Which one of the boys told you that?"

By the look on her face, he has managed to surprise her. "So you know."

He takes a sip of his glass and shrugs. "It did hurt a little that nobody told me but it's alright. You needed them as much as I did."

Her eyes soften. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I'm the jerk here. I pushed you away to the point you left and after you did, I was so close to losing all of my friends. You did nothing wrong."

She moves her head to the side, unsure on how to react. "We both made mistakes."

He scoffs. "Maybe, but you have to admit I did things way worse than you."

"It's alright, we're okay now. It wasn't meant to be."

His heart tightens and he scoffs once more. "What if it was?"

"Minho-"

"No, Y/N, listen to me for this one. Please." The gleam in his eyes convinces her and she nods for him to continue. "I don't know exactly what happened, it might be work, but I lost myself at some point. I never thought weddings were bullshit, not once in my life. My dream the moment I met you was to put a ring on your finger."

Minho stops himself and gives a scan around to make sure nobody is watching. He is thankful when he realizes his friends are busy with watching a funny video on Felix's phone. With no hesitation, he takes Y/N's hand and moves her sleeve up to reveal her engagement ring, still beautifully worn on her finger. Embarrassed, she is quick to retract her hand back in hiding. How did he know if she has been hiding it as soon as she saw him?

"And I think you might still want that."

Her eyes get watery when she forces herself to stare back at him. "This year has been... a lot. I was not ready to remove it just yet and, I guess I just got used to wearing it."

Although tempted to correct her as he know the truth, Minho does not insist any more. Instead, he sends her a look that says he understands. Almost as if it was planned, Chan calls everyone in the living room to open the presents and to, as they do every year, make a toast.

It takes a few minutes until everyone is sat and silent but once they seem good to go, Chan nods his head at Minho. "Why don't you do the honours this year, Min?"

"Oh, um..."

"I think it won't be appropriate if it is anybody else other than you," Seungmin adds to which the others seem to agree on.

Reluctantly, he gets up from his seat and clears his throat. "First of all, I'd like to apologize for the way I've been acting. I was going through a lot and I shouldn't have imposed it on you, I'm sorry. Second of all, thank you all for sticking by my side although I was a total asshole."

"Heck yeah, you are," he hears Changbin jokingly respond.

"Something else I want to mention," he continues, ignoring his friend, "is how much regret I've felt this year. Y/N?"

All eyes move to her figure by the mention of her name. She looks at Minho, feeling a bit intimidated, but smiles to let him know she wants him to go on.

"I've never loved anyone else more than I have with you. I am aware things were not ideal but you brought the best out of me. I'm sorry I had to be the one ruining this for us. I love you still and I can only wish you the best from now on." He gives the others a last glance before raising his glass. "Thank you Changbin for hosting this year's party, and merry Christmas!"

Even though the entire room cheers and applauds in response to Minho's sweet speech, Y/N is not mentally there anymore. Her mind going wild, she can't think straight other than what Minho has said. She undeniably still loves him, more than she'd like to admit. But is she ready to let him in again?

"Hey," Deena calls her out, shaking her away from her thoughts. "You might want to figure some things out with lover boy."

Her face grows red. "You think so?"

"He just left outside to go for a walk but I'm sure he isn't too far yet. Go join him."

"I don't know..."

"Y/N, stop being in denial. You still love him, he still loves you, he obviously wants you back... Just go get him already."

Slightly intimidated by her sister, she doesn't need to be told twice to go grab her coat and boots, and walk out the door. She expected for him to be at least further away on the street but it is definitely a surprise to see him sitting down on the porch. His back facing her, she quietly approaches him and sits beside him.

There is a moment of quietness before he finally looks at her. "It's snowing."

She chuckles. "Thank you for the info, Mr. Obvious."

They share a laugh and both go back to watching the snowflakes fall. It's calm and peaceful, Minho loves it. It painfully reminds him of many occurrences where they'd watch outside the window for no reason on snow days.

"That was a good speech you just made."

He smirks. "I know."

His playful demeanor is something she doesn't remember seeing in the last moments of their relationship. It feels nice to see him back, as himself.

"What you said earlier, did you mean it?"

He frowns. "The part about regrets? Yeah, I mean, I was an ass and it didn't help me getting better so... I just know I want to fix it."

She shakes her head. "Not just that. The part about still loving me."

He moves his eyes from the snow to her own and she looks at him expectedly. She is so pure, he hates himself from even thinking he had hurt her. Carefully, he takes her hands in his and sets himself just a bit closer to her while still giving her space. He feels the sweat on his forehead, waiting for either getting rejected or getting the love of his life back. Either way, he has to say it. He's been putting it off for too long.

"I meant every word I said, I still and will always love you. How can I not? You're sensitive, smart, beautiful, and so caring. You always put me before yourself. So far, you were ready to give up your cats so I could have them because you knew I needed them."

"Minho-"

"No, you don't get to interrupt me until I'm finally done saying what I have to say. Y/N, never once did I think you were obnoxious. You see beauty in everything, something I'm incapable of doing and that's what bugged me. It bothered me how you are so perfect while I am not even close to be as loving as you are."

She scoffs with a knowing smile pending on her lips. "Now, I'll have to cut you here. You don't see yourself how I see you, Minho. Why do you think I fell in love with you in the first place? You have your own little ways of showing affection, each cuter than the other. I don't mind the rest because I know you do love me."

"I hurt you," he argues sadly.

"And I forgive you, just as long as you don't do it again," she grins, tightening her grasp on his hands.

Minho raises an eyebrow in confusion. "You forgive me... As in-"

"Don't make me say it, I have my own pride too."

Minho wipes away his tears he hadn't realized were starting to fall on his face and doesn't lose another second to bring her close to him and crash his lips onto hers. They're just like he remembered and maybe better, sweet and soft. At that point, both of them are crying. Only this time, it's not because they are hurting. So many feelings are said through the kiss and not a single one is coming from pain. It's sereine and warm, Minho can feel his whole body get lighter.

"Fuck, I missed you so much," he says when they break away, holding her close to his chest. "I'm never letting you go again."

"You better," she chuckles through a sniff.

The door behind them opens wide with more than seven pairs of eyes on them. Minho blushes while Y/N hides herself in the crook of his neck.

"So we good? Everything is sorted out? Please, the food is ready and I'm starving," Jisung complains, receiving a smack from Changbin.

"You're not starving and let them have their moment!"

Jeongin sighs. "I think the moment was already ruined.

The couple, who are still sitting, explode in laughter before getting up and joining their friends in the warmth of their home where Changbin's girlfriend has selected a nice Christmas playlist to complete the ambiance. Music Minho recognizes to be Y/N's favourites. A coincidence? Probably but he likes to believe it isn't.

While the boys congratulate him for being back together with his love, Minho looks outside through the window one last time. He isn't too sure if what he sees is right but four figures seem to look at him proudly.

While nobody is watching, he mouthes a "thank you" before the silhouettes fade away in the wind.

Minho still doesn't know to this day if what happened that night was real or not. One thing for sure is he can't be any more thankful for these spirits. Most importantly, he is finally in a happy place.

204 notes · View notes

bartxnhood · 1 year

Text

back to me | d.d

gif not mine

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary: after the fall of the prison, you begin looking for your family again. especially, daryl. the one you loved most.

warnings: typical twd violence, blood, wounds, choking, etc.

a/n: this is just a small blurb i came up with while rewatching twd, so enjoy !! feedback is appreciated

not proofread

requests open

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

you held judith in your arms, hushing her cries the small cabin fell silent as martin wrapped his arms around your neck, gradually tightening his grip. “back off!” martin yelled. tyreese started, “please. please.” he held his hands up after giving up his weapons. walkers surrounded the cabin, banging on the windows and door. judith’s screams and cries causing chaos.

“go outside.” martin continued, each second tyreese wasn’t cooperating, his grip around your throat was tightening. “go outside!” he yelled again. tyreese looked at you, “go” you gasped.

finally, he stepped back opening the wooden door and disappearing with the walkers. you close your eyes letting the tears stain your cheeks, as you heard the struggle.

martin finally released, hurrying over to the knife your friend dropped and cut off the restraint. “cynthia, do you copy?” he held the radio, but nothing was coming through. the loud noises finally ceased, and judith finally calmed down after your endless cooes and shushes.

he walked over to the door, holding his knife. ready to face whatever was beyond the door. then, busting the door down tyreese appeared and grabbed martin, talking him to the ground. you couldn’t face the scene unraveling in front of you. you scurried into the corner with your eyes closed, and judith to your chest.

when it was over, tyreese stood up and it fell silent. you opened your eyes, meeting with your friend.

tyreese helped you up, holding your side for support. you still clinging onto judith. “you okay?” he huffed, you nodded wiping the tears from your cheeks. “thanks, ty.” he nodded and began to lead you out of the cabin into the light.

“carol should be back soon, for now, it’s jus a waitin game” he held your side, comforting you the best he could.

so, that’s exactly what the two of you did. and it wasn’t very long before you saw the figures of your group approaching, carol leading them.

you saw rick first, who immediately saw his baby. alongside carl they came running and scooped the child in their arms, then hugged you softly. “thank you.” when he pulled away, your eyes began searching for daryl.

his eyes met with yours, he hurriedly ran to you. “oh god” you cried, holding him tightly. you were safe, in his arms. he had been hoping, praying to any god that heard him just to make sure you’d be safe. he held onto that hope, he knew you were strong. he never doubted that. daryl pulled back, looking over your current state. “you okay?”

you nodded, also looking at his injuries. “your face..” he shocked him. “‘m fine. swear.” he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, just wanting to be held. tears brimmed the both of your eyes, his quiet sobs filled the air followed by your sniffles.

later that night, sitting somewhere in the woods, you were accompanied by daryl. you tried your best to clean up his cuts with the little supplies you had, he insisted he was fine. you finally admitted, “i thought i lost you.” daryl watched you, dropping your bag to the forest floor. “nah. never” he reached for you hand, holding you gently.

his hands were coarse, but you missed it. you knew most people would be put off by that, but to you, his touch made you feel at home. daryl stared at you, examining every little detail, afraid of letting you slip through his hands.

he sat up, “yer neck” carefully using his left hand to brush your hair that was sticking to your neck, pointing to the now bruise forming. “what happened?” looking up from your bag, you met with his eyes yet again. “in the cabin” you swallowed, “there was one of the guys from terminus, at first we had him under control but then he..” you sighed, recalling judith’s cries. “he held me and judith hostage, i guess you could say. chokehold.”

fire burned behind daryl’s eyes, the sudden urge to find this guy and rip him to shreds. he stood up but you pulled him back down. “dar” you shook your head. he opened his mouth to say something but he couldn’t. nothing would come out.

“ty took care of it. he saved me.” you shook your head, holding eye contact. “i’m okay, i promise.”

daryl looked away, eyes dancing around on the ground as he chewed his gums trying to find out what to say. your hand rested on his shoulder, trying to comfort him. “it isn’t your fault. you couldn’t have known” he shook his head, finally returning to your gaze. “i shoulda been there”

“you couldn’t have known. it’s okay, i’m okay now, im here and you’re here.” you assured, you cupped his face. “we’re okay” daryl huffed, but you were right. you always here. “m’kay”

you kissed his nose, “okay” you smiled.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon fan fiction #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine

2K notes · View notes

widowbitessting · 4 months

Text

The One with the Scary Game

Word Count: 546

Rating: General with fluffy scenes. SFW!

Summary: MJ encourages you to play FNaF. What could possibly go wrong?

Dom!Natasha Romanoff, Dom!Wanda Maximoff, Dom!Carol Danvers x Sub!Reader

(I swear I got an ask for this, but can I find it? No. I remember it being along the lines of Natasha hearing Baby shouting: "Mommy!" and coming rushing to her aid. It's not the best thing I've written but I hope you all enjoy nonetheless)

xoxo

You really should stop listening to MJ.

It’s becoming a serious problem.

Especially for your heart.

Even if you do want to murder her.

“It’s not that scary,” You mimic MJ’s voice, pulling a face. “You’ll be fine, they’re only cuddly animatronics. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You’re standing on the sofa, nervously bouncing as you re-check the cameras, begging Chica and Bonnie to stay away.

“C’mon 6am. C’mon 6am…”

Someone slams the fridge door and it startles you.

“Can you not!” You glance quickly back at Carol who’s smirking.

“Sorry, little one. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

You get laugh as a response as Carol leaves you to your game.

“C’mon 6am…c’mon…”

Your hands are so clammy it’s no joke.

“5am! How is it still 5am?”

You check the cameras again, letting out a whimper when you spot Freddie on the move too.

“NO! C’mon now!”

You exhale shakily.

“Mommy…mommy…mommy…” It comes out in a quiet chant. “Mooommmyyyy.”

You frantically check the doors, letting out an incoherent string of words when you stop Bonnie in time.

“I can do this…I can do this…”

You really think you are.

Convinced you’re about the beat the third night, when you hear a laugh.

Your body freezes up and you’re about to ask yourself what that was, when Freddie pops out of nowhere, scaring the soul right out of your body.

You scream at the top of your lungs.

Shouting: “MOMMY!” as your controller is launched into the air; toppling off the sofa in a tangle of limbs.

You lie there.

Mortified.

Envisioning the different ways you can murder MJ for telling you to play this game.

The main light is switched on as Natasha comes sprinting into the room, blinding you momentarily.

“Who died?!”

A sad noise leaves you.

And you point to the screen that says GAME OVER.

“I did...”

“Oh detka…” Natasha walks over to where you’re lying on the floor and offers her hand down to you. “I warned you not to play it in the dark.”

“Yeah, I know.” You allow her to help you up and quickly wrap your arms around her.

“Do I want to know why you shouted my title at the top of your lungs?” She asks, looking at you. “Got a secret kink you need to share with us?”

You bark out a laugh and playfully shove the red head away.

“Nerd. I do not have a - no - I just, shut up.”

Natasha just laughs at you and pulls you in for another cuddle.

“My brave girl, hmm?”

It takes you a second to reply.

“...yes.”

“How ‘bout we leave the scary game for today? Wanna have a bubble bath with mommy?”

Your eyes light up.

“With candles?”

“Anything my sweet baby wants. Wanna race?”

“You’re on!”

Natasha smiles lovingly, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Wanna do the count down or shall I do it?”

“You can this time.” You reply.

“Ready?” You nod in reply. “3…2...1…Go!”

Natasha darts off as you attempt to leap over the sofa.

Your giggles fill the quiet apartment as you dart up the stairs, just behind Natasha.

“Get back here, Romanoff!”

“Gotta be quicker than that, baby girl! I’m gonna win!”

You let her win.

Totally.

#natasha romanoff #sugar mommies #reader insert #spiderbites #sugar mommies!asks #smu #little liv writes!#sugar mommies drabble #smu universe

259 notes · View notes

dixons-sunshine · 4 days

Note

I love your Daryl x reader stories

I wanted to ask if you could write sth about Daryl x fempolish reader. Like maybe they meet in Alexandria and she made him some polish food he loved or just some love short story. I don't know it's up to you.

Have a great day

Just Try It | Daryl Dixon x Polish!Fem!Reader

*GIF and moodboard aren't mine.*

Summary: After finding all the ingredients needed to make one of your cultural dishes, you decide to make it when Carol invited you and Daryl over. However, you never suspected a man that ate snakes on the regular would be so skeptical when it came to food.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: The Commonwealth.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 932.

A/n: Thank you so much for helping me with the translations @mawidixon! I hope you like this! (Translations will be at the bottom.)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Nah, it looks weird as shit. Ain't gon' eat it.”

You rolled your eyes at him, huffing in frustration. “Kochanie, I've seen you eat a snake before. We've had to eat literal dog meat before. How the hell are you picky about this? It's just Pierogi. I've eaten this many times before the world ended. It won't kill you.”

Daryl peered over your shoulder, looking at the Pierogi that you were busy frying in a pan. His eyes were carefully following your movements, skeptical about the dish you were preparing. Carol had invited you and the kids over for dinner and had asked you to prepare Pierogi, and you had agreed rather ecstatically. It was rare for you to be able to make one of your traditional dishes, so you had jumped at the opportunity to do so.

“Why would ya boil it and then fry it? Seems fuckin' unnecessary if ya ask me,” Daryl replied skeptically, slightly scrunching his nose. “And the mashed potatoes? Why would ya wrap dough 'round it? Ya could jus' eat it as is. No need to go makin' dough outta flour and ruinin' mashed potatoes by wrappin' it 'round it. S'a waste of cheese, too, addin' it in.”

You clicked your tongue and carefully took the pan from the hot fire, and placed it onto a rag on the counter as to not burn the pristine laminate countertop. You turned to Daryl, your eyebrows raised questioningly. “Be honest with me right now, Dixon. Have you ever actually had Pierogi before?”

Daryl immediately shook his head. “Nah,” he told you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You hummed and nodded, turning to the bowl that had the Pierogi that you had made earlier. You grabbed the lukewarm Pierogi and extended it towards your partner, laughing at the face he made at it.

“Twój wyraz twarzy jest przeuroczy,” you mused, laughing harder at the confused face he made. “Before you ask what I said, it's not important. What is important, however, is you trying this. It's delicious and I can't have you thinking that eating squirrel meat is better than this.”

Daryl reluctantly took the dumpling, holding it gingerly between his fingers. “'Least m'familiar with squirrel meat. Know it ain't gon' taste any different each time.”

“Nie możesz zawsze jeść tylko wiewiórek,” you muttered under your breath, before shaking your head and sending Daryl an amused smile. “Daryl, stop being so stubborn. Po prostu spróbuj.”

Daryl grumbled something under his breath before looking at you again. “Nie chcę.”

“As impressed as I am that you understood me and that you managed to reply, saying something in my language won't sway me.”

Daryl shot you a small smirk. “Worth a shot,” he replied, before hesitantly taking a bite of the Pierogi.

You watched in amusement as a whirlwind of emotions played on his face. First skepticism, then surprise, and then he looked impressed. He practically devoured the rest of the dumpling in hungry bites, reaching for another one in the bowl, but you stopped him.

“Nope. I can't allow you to do that, misiu. The rest is for tonight,” you told him with a smile. “I can't disappoint Carol now, can I? She was eager about this the whole day. You only just came around about this. I'd rather give these to someone who's had faith in me from the start.”

“C'mon, tha' ain't fair,” Daryl groaned. “Merle once said tha' these things tasted like crap. Went into vivid detail 'bout how it tasted, too. Can't blame me fer not trustin' it.”

You giggled and shook your head. “You should've had more trust in me. I've been making these things since I was a kid. I'd never intentionally make you eat something bad,” you told him, before placing the lid onto the bowl and handing it to the archer. “Here, why don't you go ahead and take this to Carol? She's expecting us.”

Daryl took the bowl from you. “What about ya, robaczku? RJ and Judith are waitin' fer their auntie.”

You smiled at the nickname he had picked up from you, and motioned towards the dumplings still in the hot pan. “I'm just gonna wrap these up and put them away. I'll be right behind you.”

Daryl nodded and leaned forward to place a quick kiss to your lips. He soon pulled away and started walking away, calling to you over his shoulder. “Jus' so ya know, those are mine. Judith and RJ dun' need to know 'bout those.”

You laughed and called out to him. “So, are Pierogi's better than squirrel meat?”

Daryl paused at the doorway and contemplated on how to respond. He smirked to himself as he looked down at the bowl in his hand. “I'll let the kids decide tha', sunshine. I love ya.”

“I want an answer from you!”

The door shutting was the only response you got in return. You looked down at the pan and shook your head. There was never a dull moment with your beloved huntsman.

“Ja też cię kocham, you asshole,” you mused with a laugh.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Translations:

Kochanie: Honey.

Twój wyraz twarzy jest przeuroczy: Your facial expression is adorable.

Nie możesz zawsze jeść tylko wiewiórek: You can't always only eat squirrels.

Po prostu spróbuj: Just try it.

Nie chcę: I don't want to.

misiu: teddy bear.

robaczku: love bug.

Ja też cię kocham: I love you too.

85 notes · View notes

eternalsams · 5 months

Note

I gotta a request for you

TW: mentions of being sick (like a cold)

Ya girl is ill and in desperate need of fluff with Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Robert "Bob" Floyd (if your writing him rn), Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw and Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia like how they would be when your sick

Feel free to ignore this is you want

This is so cute! I have yet to write for Bob, it's on my 2024 plans don't worry. I'm ma just write some headcanons and not full stuffs cause I don't really have the time but I really wanted to do this now (it's getting late where I live)

TW: mentions of throwing up

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

first, he's clueless, he doesn't really know what to do. Is he supposed to cook for you? to help you blowing your nose?

if you get really sick to the point you empty your stomach at everything you eat, he tries to be as supportive as he can. holding your hair if it gets in your face? he can do that. rubbing your back when you feel like dying with your head on the toilet seat? he even kisses the back of your head and whispers sweet things to you

he desperately tries to cook you things you can keep; rice, chicken, whatever you need, he makes just so you feel better (spoiler alert, he's not really a great cook)

he even asks you if he needs to take a day or two off so he can take care of you but you promise him he doesn't need to (he respects your decision, he wouldn't have liked you missing work for him either)

he's a southern boy, he practically never gets sick so he takes that as an advantage to cuddle with you in bed and cover your face with sweet kisses

unfortunately, he does get sick and it's your turn to baby him all week

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

he knows what to do. he's been raised by the one and only Carole Bradshaw so he knows exactly what kind of food you need to get better asap

he surprises you with his cooking skills. he usually rarely cooks because he's not great either in front of a stove. but when you're not feeling good? that man turns into Gordon Ramsay for you

he even kept his mom's recipes from when he was not older than 15 when she used to cook him nice meals when he was sick

he's a cuddler, he doesn't care if he gets sick, he just wanna keep you safe and warm in his arms.

if you're feeling really bad, he even calls in sick with Mav to take care of you until you get better

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

that poor man goes full panic mode, he asks you if you're cold, if you're feeling nauseous, the whole interrogation

then he calls his mom, and you swear you hear him beg his mother for her secret recipes

I'm convinced this man is the definition of golden retriever energy, he just cannot stop running around. one moment he's wrapping you in his favorite star wars blanky, and the next one, he passing the front door, on his way to get some herbal tea

when you're all cosy on your couch, with Luke and Leia Skywalker wrapped around your shoulders, and the hot cup of tea in your hands, Mickey finally allows himself to calm down

even more when you ask him to pick a movie to watch together

Robert "Bob" Floyd

he's actually the one who notices you getting sick. when you start blowing your nose more often or clearing your throat with a grimace on your face

he looks up on the internet for some natural tips to dissipate a cold and it usually works without you noticing anything

but if you get really sick, he's a bit lost. just like Mickey, he'd call his parents for advice and his mom would help him cook you some food you can keep.

he doesn't care if you wake him up in the middle of the night when you flush the toilet or when you stumble on the bathroom floor to empty your stomach, as long as he's by your side through it, he's really doesn't care

maybe hell get sick with all the kisses he steals from you but he just can't get enough of the red flush of your cheeks and especially the tip of your nose

180 notes · View notes

fettuccin-e · 1 year

Text

Fighting Against Gravity

Description: You've hated Steve Harrington since your sophomore year, and the feeling is very much mutual. Unfortunately, with you both working at Family Video, it was only a matter of time before you got stuck on a shift together. You'll just keep your distance, hopefully.

BEHOLD!! one of the longest fics i've ever written lol (a whopping 3.6K words bahaha) and it's just me fantasizing about hate sex with Steve Harrington,,, this is addressing a prompt I got forever ago!! so anon, even though i've lost your ask, i hope you enjoy the porn :)

Steve Harrington made your life hell in high school.

Okay, maybe not him specifically, but Tommy and Carol were fucking awful to you. Tommy making obscene comments in the hallway, Carol spilling her lunch down your shirt on purpose. Carol stealing your clothes in the locker room while Tommy stuck things to your locker.

It got to the point that you would fake sickness, change your classes, park your car across the street just to avoid them. And Steve would just… stand there. He would just stand there and stare, his eyes all wide and shocked, while his friends tormented you. Doing nothing.

So, since sophomore year, you have hated Steve Harrington. Even now, after high school, the sight of him still makes your heart pound angrily, makes your fists clench and your teeth grind together. Robin insists that he’s changed, that he’s “not the same as he was in high school, come on, you’ve got to give him a chance.” Bullshit.

And what makes it worse is that Steve doesn’t even try. Ever since you got your job at Family Video, mostly to work with Robin every day, Steve Harrington has been a fucking dick. Rolling his eyes when you tell a joke, scoffing at any of your tiny complaints about school, about your job, about the various dates you’ve tried to go on that always go up in flames. He just flips his hair, crosses his arms and makes you feel like a complete fucking idiot.

“I have no idea what’s going on with him,” Robin says, shoving a few more videos into the shelves. “I swear he’s not usually like this. It’s like, only when you have a shift.”

“It’s fine,” you mumble, though the tenseness in your shoulders tells Robin that it is absolutely not fine. “If Harrington wants to stay a dick, he can. Doesn’t bother me either way, y’know? He’s been like this for years.”

A loud clatter behind you causes you to shoot up, turning your head to see the man in question with a pile of videos clutched in his hands, his knuckles white and eyebrows furrowed. You both lock eyes, and it feels like his gaze is burning into your fucking soul. It’s probably only a moment, but it feels like you spend years just staring at each other, before Steve huffs and turns away, rushing behind the counter.

Robin watches the whole exchange from the floor. “Oh,” she whispers quietly to herself. Your gaze snaps back down to her.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” she says, turning back to the videos, but you can tell that it is absolutely not nothing.

“What is it Robin?”

“Nothing! Look, it’s fine, okay?” she says, and you choose to just shut up about it, murmuring a quiet “okay, okay,” while you turn back to your stack of videos.

You allow yourself to get lost in the repetitive motion of filing the films away, lost to the world while you bury yourself in your thoughts. Still stuck on your strange interaction earlier, your thoughts somehow float to Steve fucking Harrington of all people. Images flutter through your mind of his pissed off little scowl, his dark eyes burning into yours, frustrated and angry. The little crease between his eyebrows, the clench of his fists. What is his fucking problem? You shove a video a little too aggressively into its slot. You want to punch him in the nose, take him down to his knees while he prays for your forgiveness. Begging for you. His dark, angry eyes looking up at you from between your thighs, those big hands clutching into your hips-

You stumble over your own feet, nearly face planting into the carpet. Where the fuck had that come from? Fantasizing about Steve Harrington? Jesus Christ, you need to get laid if you’re actually thinking about fucking Steve of all people. Even though he is somewhat attractive, maybe to a person who doesn’t know how much of a dick he is. Maybe someone could somewhat see how pullable and soft his hair is, how fucking tight his jeans are all the time, how big his hands are. How pretty he would look with those hands around your neck, slender hips between yours-

You can feel how red your cheeks are, trying to restock videos in the most casual way possible, trying to keep your mind blissfully blank. Anything but Harrington. Literally, anything.

Fortunately for your quickly spiraling mental state, Robin feels the need to break you out of your reverie.

“Shit, um, I forgot to tell you, I need to leave early today.” Robin says, sheepish, trying not to make eye contact while the floor drops out from under your feet. You have to hold yourself back from knocking the copy of Grease from her grip. You squat down to meet her eyes.

“You’re leaving me here? With him?” you hiss, glancing over to the register where Steve is helping out a customer; a pretty girl that Steve is leaning just a little too close to to be casual. Anger swims in your gut. The unprofessionalism in this guy.

Robin finally meets your eyes, her cheeks red. “I have a date? Uh, with Vickie.” she says, and when her cheeks are all red like that, and she seems just a little ashamed, you really can’t find it in yourself to scold her. “I’m sorry,” she says, and you force yourself to believe in her apology.

“Fine, it’s fine.” you mutter, crossing your arms. “Leaving me to deal with Harrington myself, I get it.”

“Look, maybe you guys could, I don’t know, talk? While I’m gone?” Robin says, standing. “I swear to God, walking in here is like walking into a war zone.”

“Not a chance, Buckley,” you chuckle, humorlessly, but Robin laughs back all the same. “But you have fun on your date, okay?”

“Oh, I will,” she giggles, and you finally laugh genuinely. Robin hugs you gently, whispering a quiet, “good luck,” before she runs to the back to grab her backpack, and then she’s gone. Leaving you to the wolves. Or, wolf. Steve Harrington. You resolve yourself to just avoiding him, staying silent and doing your job until you can finally leave. But, in a tiny store like Family Video, keeping your distance proves quickly to be incredibly difficult. Against your will, you end up behind the counter next to Steve, trying to clean up as fast as possible.

“Excuse me, Harrington,” you mutter, bumping yourself in front of Steve’s tall body to wipe down the shelves behind the counter.

Steve jumps back like you’ve struck him, but you try to ignore it, bending further to reach the back of the shelf. You reach behind you to pull your skirt down, suddenly horribly conscious of the shortness of it.

“Oh, Jesus Christ,” you hear Steve mutter, and that is it. You’re just trying to do your fucking job, and somehow he has a problem with you doing that? You straighten up and whip around to face him, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. Odd, because last you checked, Steve is taller than you. What the fuck was he looking at?

“What the fuck is your problem, Harrington?” you say, stepping toward him.

“My problem?” Steve asks, incredulous and completely fucking patronizing. “You’re asking what my problem is?”

“Yes! What is it? Because it’s like I can’t do anything right around you. Anything I do, or say, fucking think is met with, with-“

“Oh Christ,” your fists clench at Steve’s interruption. “Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been the most uptight fucking brat I’ve ever met. Not to mention-“

“Oh fuck you, Steve.”

“Not to mention the fact that you are so caught up in who I was in fucking high school, going on and on to Robin about how much of a dick I was in school, as if people in your little world can’t change. That’s how judgemental you are, you can’t fucking let go.” Steve steps toward you, his tall body feeling like he’s looming over you.

“Let go? You and your little friends made my life a living hell. I dreaded going to school every day. And you want me to let it go?”

“It wasn’t even me doing that to you. It was Carol and Tommy-“

You poke a finger into his chest. “You just stood by-“

“I’ve tried to fucking apologize to you, but you won’t let me-“

“You’ve tried? Am I really supposed to believe that?” Steve’s angry breaths are fanning over your face, smelling like gum and cigarettes. You can see little gold flecks in his brown eyes.

“I fucking have, and you know it.” You’re both too close, too fucking close.

“Do I?”

You don’t know who moves first. Probably Steve, the impulsive asshole that he is.

Maybe it was you.

But suddenly Steve’s strong hands are gripping your jaw, your hands are winding into his soft hair, pressing yourself into him. All you know is that Steve’s lips are soft, overwhelming against yours even as your teeth clack together painfully. The kiss is wretched and messy, but Steve just presses himself in further, licking up against your teeth and forcing you to open up to him. His tongue presses against yours, slick and wet and warm. He feels so big against you, and it’s so good that it takes a moment for you to realize that you’re still kissing Steve Harrington.

You force yourself to break away, your cheeks flaming. Steve stares at you with his dark eyes, looking about as shocked as you feel with his flushed cheeks.

“I- fuck, what was that? What, what the fuck? I-“ you stumble over your words, but Steve swoops down again to lick into your mouth. You moan lightly at the taste of him, grasping onto his shoulders, and it just feels too good to pull away.

“Shut up,” Steve breathes into your mouth. “For once, just,” Steve kisses you again, almost like he’s fucking starving for it. “Shut up.”

“Make me, Harrington,” you whisper.

Steve kisses you again, harsh and unforgiving, and you gasp as his hands grip your hips, so strong that you know he’s going to leave pretty marks. Like you’re his. Your nails dig into his back as his lips leave yours, instead traveling to your throat, biting harshly, while one of his hands drifts under your skirt, playing with your throbbing clit through your panties. You can feel how soaked you are, how the wetness of your pussy is making your thighs slick and your cunt clench.

“Steve, Steve, fuck,” you whisper. Steve grunts softly into your neck, his fingers sneaking under your panties to run through your sticky wet slit, running just over your entrance.

“So fucking wet, baby,” Steve mumbles. “This all for me? You like getting me mad? Does it get you hot, babe? Make this little pussy so fucking wet?” You want to reply, a snarky comment on the tip of your tongue, but one of Steve’s long fingers is dipping into you, and it takes all of your energy just to make sure your fucking knees don’t give out. “Bet that’s why you’re such a brat all the time. Fiery little thing; you just needed to get fucked?” And his finger is suddenly moving inside you, stretching your sensitive walls.

“Oh god, Steve-” you whine, but he cuts you off again by adding another finger, jamming it inside you alongside the first. The hand he had on your hip travels around your back, holding your weak body upright.

“You look so pretty like this. You’re always such a pretty thing, aren’t you?” Your cheeks burn with the embarrassment of being so placid and submissive under Steve’s touch, but when his fingers tease at a sensitive spot so fucking deep inside, pressing harder than you can with his long fingers, you can’t bring yourself to care. And Steve just looks so pretty, his dark eyes blown wide and hair hanging in his face, and you hate that he’s so pretty. You hate how his fingers feel so fucking good.

You hate how desperate you are for his cock, the thick bulge in his jeans pressing against your thigh.

You grip his wrist, somehow finding the strength within yourself to pull his fingers out of you. You turn around, away from him to bend yourself over the counter, flipping the back of your skirt up in a clear invitation.

“Jesus Christ, baby, you want my dick that bad?” Steve grunts behind you, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“Like you don’t want my pussy just as bad, Harrington. Why don’t you follow your own advice, shut the fuck up, and fuck me?” You chuckle lightly at Steve's responding groan, and suddenly hear the tell-tale sound of a belt coming undone and a zipper being pulled down.

Steve’s cock is throbbing and sticky, needy for your pussy after fingering you. If Steve’s honest with himself, he’s been half hard since you walked in for your shift, just like he always is. But Steve would rather die than tell you that now. Maybe he’ll tell you after you agree to go on a date with him.

But that’s the least of his worries. Because right now, your pretty little pussy is right in front of him, covered just barely by your soaked panties, and you’re asking him to fuck you. Steve can’t decide if he’s dreaming or not. He really doesn’t want to wake up either way.

A high pitched whine escapes your throat when Steve pulls your panties to the side and you feel the thick head of his cock swipe through your sticky folds, far bigger than what you anticipated. It’s fucking intoxicating. You wiggle your hips back, desperate, and whisper out a desperate “please” as he finally notches himself against your entrance.

You don’t have to tell him twice, because Steve is suddenly sinking his cock into you. Slowly, so fucking slowly. Too fucking slow.

“Harrington, do you always fuck women like a 90 year old man? I thought you were a ladies man, I mean really, what happened to King Ste-”

Steve doesn’t let you finish your sentence as he grits his teeth and shoves his cock into your aching pussy, and clenches his eyes shut at the sound of your squeal, a choked moan escaping his throat as your hot cunt grips him so fucking tight.

Your fingers grip at the edge of the counter, as Steve forces his fat cock into you. The stretch burns, it burns, but it’s so good, fuck, it’s like you can feel it in your lungs. And then he moves, dragging himself out so slow you can feel every vein dragging against your walls before shoving back in again. Your bent hips are pressed against the counter while Steve has his big hands gripping your waist.

“Jesus, baby, so fucking tight for me,” he grunts, and he sounds wrecked. “Taking me in like a good little slut.”

“Steve, Steve, oh god, Steve.” You chant his name like a prayer, your voice weak and airy, legs trembling. Your pussy clenches at his words, and you lower your forehead against the cool material of the counter as you hear Steve chuckle breathlessly, obviously feeling your reaction.

“You like that, baby? Like being called a slut? Fuck, you do. You love being my fucking slut don’t you?” Steve snaps his hips forward harshly through his words, watching your ass shake under the force. Little whines are punched out of your throat with every thrust, and you just sound so pretty that Steve can’t help but bring a hand up to run it comfortingly down your spine. “Little brat, coming in here in these tiny little skirts, riling me up with your little comments. You’ve been so bad, baby, so bad to me. Just needed to be put in your place, right?”

Little tears are starting to leak from your eyes as Steve’s unforgiving thrusts into your squelching pussy, his fat cock rubbing deep into you. You jerk hard as Steve slaps a hand over your ass, the sound echoing throughout the empty store.

“I asked you a fucking question sweetheart,” Steve grunts.

You force words to come out of your throat. “Yes, yes, oh god, Steve, I needed to be put in my place, fuck. Needed, needed you to fuck me Steve, oh-” You glance forward through bleary eyes and see the parking lot just outside the window, still blissfully empty, but the shock of what you’re doing rings through you. Anyone could see you right now. Anyone could walk through those doors and see Steve Harrington fucking you like a bitch.

Your pussy throbs almost painfully, your stomach clenching, and you know, oh God, you know-

“Steve, Steve, I’m gonna, oh God, I’m gonna cum, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you whine.

But Steve does stop, and you cry out in despair as he slips out of you, his strong hands flipping you around so that you can see his flushed and sweaty face. He’s so beautiful that you could nearly pass out. Maybe you will. Steve brings a hand up to wipe a tear off your face, shushing you gently.

“Sorry baby, I just, I gotta see your face when you cum. Gotta see how fucking pretty you look.” He hitches one of your thighs up onto his hip, keeping you spread open for him, and sinks his cock back into you through his words. Your eyes roll back again at the feeling, and you barely have a moment to catch your breath before he’s pounding up into you. He forces you to take his cock all over again, and the knot in your stomach is back with a fucking vengeance.

With no counter to grip onto, your arms wrap around Steve’s shoulders, bringing him down just enough to kiss him again. He groans into your mouth, and you whine back, the both of you tangled together like you’re made for each other. You kind of hope you are.

You break your lips from his, looking up into his dark eyes as you gasp, “Gonna cum, Steve. Oh fuck, you’re gonna, you’re gonna make me cum.”

“Go ahead and cum, baby,” Steve whispers, so intimate you nearly cry harder. “Show me how pretty you look when you cum on my cock.”

Your vision whites out for a moment, your mouth gaping open in a silent scream as you clench and gush around Steve’s fat cock, still pounding relentlessly into you.

“Jesus fuck, sweetheart,” Steve whimpers, “so, fuck, so pretty.”

You gaze up at him with teary eyes, your thighs still trembling, and run a hand through his hair. “Go ahead and cum inside me, Steve. I want, shit, I want you to own me.”

You watch his eyes go wide, before his mouth drops open and his hips stutter, his thick cock throbbing inside you while he floods your sticky cunt with his cum. You hear him whispering softly, barely able to make out his little mutters of “mine, all mine,” while he comes down from his orgasm.

It takes a while for you both to stop shaking, but when you finally breathe normally again, you keep Steve pressed close. He gazes at you, eyes soft as he whispers, “For what it’s worth, I’m- I’m sorry. I know it’s too late, but I am.”

You smile at him softly. You know what he’s like, maybe you always have. Steve Harrington, as horrible as he was in high school, has changed. He’s changed into a wonderful, kind, caring man. So far from the ‘King Steve’ you once knew. You trace a gentle hand down his jaw.

“I know, Steve,” you whisper.

“But do you? I mean, I was awful to you, and I understand if maybe this was just, like, a heat of the moment thing, or whatever. I mean, I can quit if this will make you uncomfortable, knowing that I-”

“Steve,” you answer, cutting him out of his panicked rambling. “I forgive you, okay? I think… I think I forgave you a while ago. Maybe I just hadn’t realized it yet. But I do. I forgive you, Steve.”

“But-”

“I forgive you, Steve Harrington. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. For how I’ve treated you. And… And I know that we may have done this a little backwards, but I love to go on a date with you, Steve. If you wanted, y’know.”

Steve stares at you, shocked, and you open your mouth again to take it back, maybe tell him that you both can be friends, even if it’s not what you want.

But then Steve is swooping down to capture your lips in a gentle kiss, chaste and warm, and it feels like your heart is going to beat out of its chest.

“I wanna take you out so bad, sweetheart. God, I’ll treat you so good, just watch baby, I’ll-”

You giggle at him softly, pecking him on the lips again, just to feel him. And to shut him up, just maybe. It’s like you can stay in this moment forever, kissing a blushing Steve Harrington.

The sound of an approaching car roars from outside, and it’s suddenly horribly apparent that Steve’s soft cock is still inside you, your leg still hitched up onto his hip. You push him away just as he backs up, rushing to stuff his sticky cock back into his pants. He kicks his discarded belt under the counter while you pull your panties up, trying not to think too hard about the strange feeling of Steve’s cum leaking out of your gaping pussy.

The bell dings as someone walks in, and you both whip around, hoping that you look a bit more put together than you feel. You quickly try to pretend to wipe down the counters, just like earlier, but as Steve walks around you to greet the customer, he squeezes the fat of your ass, making you gasp.

You look up to meet his pretty eyes, his puffy, used lips smirking at you knowingly, wiggling his eyebrows. You giggle at him softly. Okay, maybe Steve Harrington is a dick. But maybe, just maybe, that’s not so bad.

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things smut

1K notes · View notes

topazy · 27 days

Text

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Swearing, blood and violence

Chapter: 6.01

You try your best to pay no mind to those staring while you explore the different streets of Alexandria. Carl doesn’t seem to notice as he pushes Judith in her pram, or if he does, he doesn't let on. The first few weeks in your new home have been hard on everyone. Noah was dead. While on a supply run, he was torn to shreds by walkers. A few others had died, including Jessie’s husband Pete, whom Rick shot for killing Deanna’s husband, which resulted in your group getting the cold shoulder from a lot of people who had lived in Alexandria since the beginning, and they no longer thought your people belonged in their home.

“I’m glad Maggie isn’t making you go anymore.”

Since Carl was no longer going to ‘school' Maggie said you didn’t need to either, on the condition you help out with different chores, one of them being looking after Judith. “Me too,” you say, leaning down and tickling the baby’s cheek. “It means I get to hang out with my favorite girl.”

“Carl, Hope.”

You turn to see Father Gabriel walking over. Maggie had overheard him telling Deanna that your people were dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed in the community a few nights prior, so it was surprising he would speak to any of you.

Carl’s tone is sharp. “What?”

“You heard what I told Deanna about your group.”

“What is it you want?” You ask.

“It was about me, not you or your group. I know that now.” Gabriel admits, “I want to help. You tried to reach me back at my church, but I’m ready to learn now.”

“I think you need to tell everybody.”

The older man’s eyes gloss over slightly. “Yeah, I think you’re right.”

Carl starts to push the pram again, but strops and sighs. “Come by around three. We’ll start with the machete.”

When Gabriel is out of earshot, you say, “That was nice of you.”

He shrugs, “Suppose we gotta keep being nice to each other since we are all going to be living together. Besides, I think he’s still struggling with what happened at his church.”

You smile softly. Carl has always remained kind to others, even when he’s angry. “Yeah, I think you're right.”

—

“Hope, Hope!”

Hearing your name being called, followed by a thumping noise coming from the bathroom door, you turn off the water and go to step out, but slip on the shower, stubbing your toes on it and letting out a string of curse words.

The banging continues. “Hope! Hope! You need to get out of there now!”

Hearing the urgency in Carl’s voice, you grab a towel, and you step behind the door and open it a crack to hear him say, “What’s going on?”

“We are being attacked; you gotta help me keep Judith and Enid safe.”

The fear in his voice causes your heart to start beating faster and faster. Scrambling, you start pulling clothes on, doing your best to ignore the blood coming from your toe. When you open the door, you see Carl looking towards the staircase, directly at the front door, one hand tightly wrapped around his gun. Hearing you flinch while putting shoes on, his gaze jumps between you and the door. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing,” you lie, trying your best not to whine in pain as you tie the laces on the dirty, worn-out white converse. “Who’s attacking us?”

“I’m not sure. They climbed the wall and just started killing people. Enid saw a man kill Shelly with a machete. They are worse than the dead.”

A large part of your new community, including Rick, Michonne, Daryl, and Abraham, had left Alexandria to lead a herd of walkers away, meaning you were lacking fighters to defend your home. At least you still had Carol, Rosita, Maggie...

“God, Maggie!” You hold onto the banister and pull yourself up. “I need to find her.”

“You can’t go out there; it’s not safe.”

“But she’s my sister.” Tears well up in your eyes. “I can’t lose her too! I’ve just lost Beth; I can’t, I can’t.”

Attempting to comfort you, Carl holds you and places his hands on your shoulders. “Maggie is one of the strongest people I know; she will make it. I promise.”

You knew Carl couldn’t promise you that, but you needed to pull it together because right now nothing was more important than keeping Judith safe. You wipe away a fallen tear. “Okay, let’s do this.”

—

When you went downstairs, Enid informed you that the group invading Alexandria was called the Wolves. It wasn’t clear what they actually wanted; some members of the Wolves were looting houses, and the others were tossing petrol bombs and destroying everything they could.

Sitting back to back in the hallway, watching the front and back doors while Enid kept an eye from upstairs, Judith slept blissfully unaware of all the chaos going on in her crib.

Hearing a loud noise, you flinch. “What was that?”

“It sounds like a car horn.”

You chew on your bottom lips, and the blast of the horn would draw any nearby dead to the scene. “This is just going to keep getting worse, isn’t it?”

“No, my dad will be back soon, along with everybody else, and we will all be fine.”

You let out a deep sigh. You didn’t want to be so negative, but the fear of something bad happening to those you loved weighed heavily on you. Slowly, you look away from the back door and face Carl’s head. A few seconds pass before you lean in and kiss him on the cheek, “Thank you.”

He blushes, and you return to watching the back door. You’re unsure of how long you will wait for something to happen when Carl jumps to his feet and runs out of the front door.

You catch a glimpse of a wolf chasing Ron. Just as you reach the front door, Carl shoots the man in the leg and aims his gun at him, but the wolf tearfully starts begging for his life and for help with his leg. You watch in horror as Carl hesitantly lowers his weapon, and the wolf viciously grabs the barrel of his gun. You sprint to them and pull the trigger, shooting the man in the head.

You just killed someone.

You offer Carl your hand and help pull him to his feet. “Oh shit, your foot.”

You look down and see blood soaking through your shoe. Gulping down, you say. “It’s fine. Ron, you need to come inside with us now.”

“Come on, man, it’s not safe out here.”

Ron thinks it over as you go back towards the house, with a slight limp in your step, and Ron goes to follow but spots Enid in the doorway and storms off.

—

Carol came by to check on you, Carl, and Judith. She informed you that they had taken one of the men prisoner, but the rest of his group had either run off or been killed. You were even more thankful when she told you your sister was fine.

“Thank God,” you say sincerely.

Carol smiles at you and says, “I’m glad you kids are alright. I’m going to go let Maggie know you are here; she was looking for you.”

Just as she leaves, Carl comes back into the room with a first-aid kit in one hand and a note in the other. “Enid’s gone; she left a note sharing, ‘Just survive somehow.’”

He sits on the edge of the couch. You go to grab the first-aid bag from him, but Carl keeps a tight hold of it. You roll your eyes playfully at him and say, “I can do it myself.”

Carl gives you a doubtful look. “You won’t do it right because you’ll not want it to hurt.”

He had a point.

After you were sure there was no more immediate danger, you removed your shoe and sock to assess the damage you had done coming out of the shower, and to your disgust, one of your toes had bruises and was swollen, and one of the nails had split, causing the bleeding.

Not wanting to seem like a big baby, you bit down on your tongue as Carl cleaned your foot and wrapped your toes together with a bandage.

“You know, I really could have done it myself.”

He shrugs. “I know, but I don’t mind. I remember watching my mom bandage a woman called Jacqui’s foot up after she tripped and fell in camp one day.”

“What happened to Jacqui?” You ask curiously, since you hadn’t heard him mention her before.

“She killed herself.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“She had given up.” Carl shakes his head. “I sometimes think about the camp I stayed in when the outbreak first started and miss it. The day my dad found us was probably the best day of my life.”

“I miss the farm; I miss my daddy.” Feeling your eyes start to tear up again, you pat at Carl’s hand. “But if you hadn’t left that camp, then we never would have met.”

You sit in a comfortable silence for a few moments, then Carl moves closer to you, saying, “Thank you. For saving me.”

“Don’t thank me; you would have done the same thing.”

Closing your eyes, you try to push the memory of what happened to the back of your mind. You take a sharp intake of breath when you feel Carl press his lips against yours lightly. He pulls away after a few seconds and says, “I…I… shouldn’t have...”

You kiss him back. You remain lip-locked with Carl, your best friend, until someone clears their throat. You jump back, and Carl stands up, his face flushed red with embarrassment. “Hi Maggie,” he says nervously. “I’m just going to go and check on Judith.”

Maggie has a wide grin on her face; she found it amusing how awkward you looked. “I came as soon as Carol told me where you were; she said you'd hurt your foot.”

“I hurt it earlier, but it’s fine now.”

“Really?” She sits down on the edge of the table across from you. “Carol said it was bleeding and bruised.”

“It was, but Carl bandaged it.”

“With his mouth?” She laughs.

“Don’t.”

Maggie tries her best to hide her growing smile with her hand. “Okay, so I gotta ask, do you know how protection works?”

“Yes.”

“You sure? Because I remember what it’s like to be a teenager with raging hormones. You are both smart kids, but you’re almost nearly sixteen.”

Heat rushes to your face. “Oh my god, Maggie, seriously?”

“Hope, I’m being deadly serious. This is an important subject, and I just need to know how much you learned before.“

You cut her off. “Of course I know how babies are made. Why the sudden interest in my sexual education, aside from trying to embarrass me to death?”

“I’m pregnant.”

#carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes/reader #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #Carl Grimes/you #carl grimes fanfic #carl grimes x you #teen spirit #teen spirit 6.01 #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead fanfiction

90 notes · View notes

roosterforme · 1 year

Text

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 17 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You talk to Bradley, and he assures you that he'll be home in time for the wedding in one piece, with Jake in tow. When Bradley is back on land, you let him in on your little secret, and he has a whole new mission in mind: getting his fill of you, while keeping you filled with him.

Warnings: Smut, angst, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

Bradley sat up in the infirmary all night. He was bruised and sore all over, and it had taken him hours to get warmed up again. But he was still doing a bit better than Jake at the moment.

It was pretty clear that Jake had a concussion and lacerations on his forehead, most likely from the canopy hitting him while Bradley tried to help him open it. But the medical staff had assured Bradley that he would be fine once he rested. And perhaps the best part was that he was going to be allowed to facetime with you in a few hours. Turns out that when you save someone's life, the Admirals will let you do pretty much anything you want.

"Bradshaw," Jake mumbled, and Bradley couldn't help but smile from the chair next to the bed.

"How you feeling, Bagman?" Bradley asked, his voice still raw from the punishment he'd put his lungs through a few hours ago.

"I feel great," Jake replied, pushing himself up on his elbows. "Other than the fact that I want to throw up every time I move. What the hell happened?"

Bradley shrugged. "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Lost both engines," Jake drawled with his eyes closed. "And then skipped the damn runway." He opened his eyes and looked at Bradley. "Thank you."

"Don't." Bradley shook his head. "Do not thank me. If anything, I owed you one. Besides, I was firmly instructed to make sure I bring you back home with me."

Jake tried to laugh, but it must have caused him pain by the way he winced. Then he reached up to his forehead which now had a neat row of stitches. "I'm going to have a fucking scar across my face. Do you have any idea how pretty I am?"

"Were," Bradley replied with an eye roll. "You should try to rest."

"Wake me up when you facetime Angel. I want to ask her a few questions about her bachelorette party."

--------------------

You had just finished hanging up the photo collage you made out of your parents' wedding photos as well as some of Goose and Carole on their big day. You had left some spots open in the middle, ready for your own photos to be added once you had them back. It was quirky and fun, and it looked perfect hanging above the piano.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket and you almost screamed. It was unlikely your parents were calling you back since you just talked to them, so you were praying it was Bradley. Restricted Facetime Caller.

You answered it, and your screen was immediately filled with Bradley's face.

"Roo!" you gushed dropping into one of the dining room chairs. "I miss you!"

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspier than usual, and it almost sounded like he was sick. You were about to ask him what was wrong when he started talking again. "I'm just going to cut to the chase here. Jake got injured."

"What?" you gasped. "What happened? How bad?"

"He's fine, promise. He's actually right here. Mind if he joins us?"

Your heart was absolutely pounding. Initially, your mind went to teasing Bradley over facetime, maybe letting him see your tattoo.

"Put him on!" you said, and a second later, Bradley was joined in the frame by Jake who had stitches on his forehead. "What is going on?"

Both men shared a look before turning back to you. "Happened during the mission. Just a little cut, Angel. Nothing to worry about," Jake promised.

You sighed and ran your hands along your face.

"There's something a lot more pressing we need to discuss," he added, and you noticed Bradley's eyes got a little wide. "Do you want strippers for your bachelorette party?"

You were suddenly so confused now, you thought maybe you were the one with the head injury. "Bachelorette party? Roo...did you tell him?" you gasped. If Bradley let it slip that you were getting married this month, you were going to scream.

He cleared his throat loudly. "Yes, Jake knows we are eloping in Mexico next month."

You just stared at both of them. "Are we?" you asked cautiously.

"We are," Bradley replied with a firm nod. You wanted to start laughing, but Jake was already rattling off plans for a party for you and one for Bradley. He was either severely concussed, and you were supposed to be playing along, or Bradley lied to him about your wedding plans. Either way, you nodded and agreed with everything he was saying while Bradley just looked exasperated.

"So, a stripper?" Jake asked. "I know a guy." You just gave a vague answer, not sure about how you were supposed to be responding. Bradley was cradling his forehead in his hand now. "Rooster said he doesn't want a stripper. But I kind of want him to have a stripper so at least everyone else can enjoy their night."

"I don't want a stripper," Bradley said firmly to Jake. Then he turned to you and said, "I really don't."

You just shrugged and smirked. "You can get me one Jake, sounds fun."

Bradley rolled his eyes as Jake asked, "Male or female?"

"Mmm, surprise me," you replied. "Jake, you mind if I talk to Bradley for a sec? I'm glad you're okay, but you look like you could use some rest."

"Sure, Angel," he said as you told him you missed him too and couldn't wait to see him.

Bradley watched him walk away, and when he looked back at the screen with a wary expression, you waited for him to speak first.

"Sweetheart. Listen. I kind of fucked up, but he kept bugging me about a wedding date, so I lied and made up some story about Mexico."

You were smiling, and then you started laughing, and then Bradley joined in as well. "So he's really on this bachelor party weekend? And strippers? Not just because it looks like he hit his head?"

Bradley shook his head. "He's determined to plan the party of your dreams. So you might as well just tell him what you want, Baby Girl."

You rolled your eyes. "Sounds like I'm getting a stripper," you muttered. "How did he get hurt anyway? Wait- you're okay, right?" you asked, suddenly wondering why Bradley looked so nervous.

"I'm perfectly fine. Promise. Can we talk more about this when I'm back home?"

You perked up right away. "When will that be, Roo?"

"I'll send you the flight information as soon as I have it."

"Just make sure it's before the 28th."

"Most important day of my life. Wouldn't miss it."

--------------------------

When you got to work on the Thursday before Thanksgiving, Bickel called you to his office. You were practically vibrating with excitement. You hadn't actually spoken to Bradley or Jake again, but both of them had emailed you information about their return flight. In twelve hours, you'd be picking them up from the airport.

"Yes, sir?" you asked, knocking on your boss's open office door.

He motioned for you to close the door and then offered you a donut. You took a seat with a chocolate glazed in one hand and waited until he selected one from the box as well. When he took a few bites before he said anything, you started to get a little nervous.

"You have all those vacation days coming up," he said before popping the last of his strawberry donut into his mouth.

"Yes, sir," you replied. "December first through ninth."

Your heart was pounding. He had already signed off on your honeymoon dates without any questions asked. Was he going to try to give you a hard time about it now? Bradley had had no issues with getting his vacation approved, because Maverick already knew what it was for.

Bickel cleared his throat and opened his desk drawer. "I know you didn't explicitly say, and I'm not going to explicitly ask, but I am going to assume that you are taking the time off to get married. Maybe elope like Evelyn and I did."

Your lips parted, wanting to deny your plans. But you couldn't. You just watched him pull an envelope out of his desk before closing the drawer softly. "This is for you. A wedding gift." He handed you the envelope and asked, "Am I completely off base here?"

You just shook your head and smiled at him. "No, sir."

"Well, congratulations. I'm away next week, so I won't see you until you get back from wherever you're going. Enjoy your time off, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, sir." You stood to leave and he stood too, shaking your hand.

"Also, Cat Coleman accepted that open position with us. Her first day of work will be your first day back," he informed you. "Take a donut for the road. You're dismissed."

You nibbled on a cream filled donut as you made your way back to your office. Cat Coleman would be starting next month. If she was as good as she claimed to be, that should free up some more time in your schedule to work on research projects with your boss. Sonya was great, but now you were always going to be a little wary of transfers from Annapolis.

By the time you met Phoenix for lunch, you were on a sugar and caffeine high, so you got a salad and some water.

"Please don't tell me you're on some wedding diet?" she commented. "Your dress already fits you perfectly."

"Listen, I've been subsiding on donuts and coffee. My body wanted me to eat something green."

When you started eating your salad, Phoenix grinned at you from across the table. "I got an email from Jake, and he told me that he knows when and where you're getting married, because apparently he weasled it out of Rooster. And that your bachelorette party is on Saturday."

"I'm sorry, what? My bachelorette party is in two days?"

"Yeah," she added with a smirk. "And Bradley's bachelor party is tomorrow night."

"Jake is a nightmare," you muttered. "Listen, I don't even need a party."

"Yes, you do. And I'm going to make sure you get drunk, and then we can really have a heart to heart about exactly what it means to marry my best friend." Nat gave you a hard look and pointed at you with her fork. "No give backs. No exchanges. No breaking his heart in any way. He's going to moon over you for the rest of his life, so I better see some mutual pining, even when he's old and fat. Got it?" she asked with a laugh, unable to keep a straight face.

You thought about Bradley's cute tummy he acquired after he was injured and watching reality TV for weeks on end. "Got it," you told her. "Sounds like a breeze."

------------------------

When their flight touched down in San Diego, Bradley was practically shoving Jake off the airplane to get to you as quickly as possible. There was barely a week until the wedding, and he missed you so much.

"Take it easy," Jake grumbled, and Bradley took a deep breath. He knew Jake had been getting continuous headaches since he skidded off the aircraft carrier and into the ocean. And he also knew that you and Jake were for some reason good friends, so he slowed his pace down and clenched his jaw.

"She said she would be waiting by our baggage claim carousel," Bradley said, winding through the crowd. Their flight had been delayed, and it was after nine in the evening, and Bradley wanted to get you home, because you had to work in the morning. He had the day off tomorrow, and Jake was insisting on throwing him a bachelor party that he didn't even want tomorrow night. But Bradley wasn't going to fight him on it; it wasn't worth the effort on his part.

"There she is," Bradley and Jake said in unison, and Bradley took off in your direction. You hadn't spotted them yet as you were looking up at the flight arrivals screen. God, you were beautiful, and in a week you'd be wearing an additional ring and calling him your husband.

"Baby Girl," he called out, and you spun to face him, your dress kind of swirling around your thighs. Without a word, you launched yourself into his arms, and Bradley held you tight.

"You were gone more than two weeks," you said against his neck with a laugh. "It was fifteen days. I'm going to complain to Mav."

Bradley kissed your lips and then pressed his forehead to yours. "But I'm back. In time for our wedding."

You giggled and kissed him again, but a second after that, you were abandoning him to hug Jake and make a fuss over his stitches. Bradley rolled his eyes and started looking for the duffles on the carousel. He and Jake had decided to spare you the details of his crash landing and the subsequent spur of the moment rescue mission. It didn't matter. They were both home now.

"No, I'm fine, Angel. Just need to get the stitches removed next week. You ready for your bachelorette party?" Jake asked you, and Bradley watched you shake your head.

"If you insist."

A few minutes later, Bradley was carrying both duffle bags out to his Bronco, hot on your heels as you guided Jake along. It was obvious that he desperately needed to get home and get some rest. After you helped Jake get in the backseat, Bradley buckled you in the passenger seat and kissed you one time, running his fingers up your thigh and making you laugh.

"Take me home," you whispered, and soon Bradley was zipping down the highway and dropping Jake off.

Bradley jumped out to help him with his bag, and you climbed out to give Jake a hug. But as soon as Jake was inside, Bradley scooped you up again and hauled you back to the Bronco.

"I'm going to take you home and do unspeakable things to you," he whispered, and you started laughing.

"Like what? I want details," you told him as he buckled you in once more.

Bradley shook his head and sighed. "I'm going to kiss you and love you forever. You're not gonna know what to do with yourself."

"Sounds filthy," you told him before he closed the door and ran around to the driver's side.

"It will be," he said, pulling away from the curb. And after he merged back onto the highway, Bradley let his hand rest on your bare knee while he drove. "We could make it a little filthy now if you want."

You very subtly spread your legs a bit wider for him, and Bradley groaned softly. He ran his fingers up and down the inside of your left thigh for a minute, listening to your breathing grow deeper.

"Your skin is so soft," he whispered over the playlist you had selected on his phone. "Everywhere." He eased his middle finger inside your underwear and stroked you along your slit. "Especially here."

"Bradley," you gasped when he slipped his long finger down to your opening and started to fuck you with it while he drove. After a few steady strokes, Bradley added his index finger and let you ride him.

Your head was tipped back against the headrest, and when your lips parted, whining his name, Bradley thought you were about to unleash the dirty talk. But it was a different kind of dirty talk than he was used to.

"How would you feel if I told you I stopped taking my birth control?"

Bradley's hand froze, his fingers buried deep inside your pussy. He felt you clench softly around him once, and he stroked you slowly in response. Finally, your words and their meaning really took root in his mind.

"I...wait. Is that hypothetical?" he asked, trying to keep control of the steering wheel while his heart pounded.

You pulled his hand out of your panties and raised his fingers to your lips. And just before you started sucking on them, you said, "Not hypothetical. I've been off the pill for a few days."

Bradley groaned, his cock going from semi erect to painfully hard in an instant. And then his fingers were in your mouth. He slowed down and exited the highway, turning right off the ramp and heading toward the beaches.

"Where are we going?" you managed to ask, licking between his fingers before he pulled his hand away to park at a quiet overlook. Bradley was unbuckling his seatbelt and then yours and reaching for you.

"Showing you how much I love the idea of having unprotected sex with you."

You giggled. "I thought you might like that." He pulled you against him as you crawled across the seat toward him, and then Bradley was gone. Just fully gone in the fantasy of getting you pregnant.

Bradley eased you back along the seat, gently pulling your dress up to expose your tummy. He kissed you there, running his lips along the top of your underwear and licking your tattoo. "We only have a week to work with, Baby Girl, but maybe I can get you pregnant before our wedding?"

You moaned softly, and his hands were unzipping his jeans immediately. He watched you scramble to get your underwear off and toss them on the floor.

"Oh, you like that idea, too?" he asked, palming his length and pushing himself inside you with one fluid stroke. He fucked you hard and slow, your body cradling his. He kissed your lips and your jaw and your chest, nipping and sucking so you would remember this tomorrow and the next day. "You want me to fuck you until I get you pregnant?"

"Yes," you hissed, tugging on his hair.

He made a noise so deep and needy it had you gaping at him. "I'm going to keep you full all the time now. Full of my cock and my cum. Until you've got a baby growing. Then I'm still going to fuck you so good, Sweetheart. You'll never have to worry about that."

Your words were incomprehensible as Bradley rammed into you over and over again, his lips and tongue sucking along the tops of your breasts. He'd get you all big and swollen, fuck you until you were pregnant with his baby. Make love to you until you once again exceeded all expectations he had for his life.

"Daddy," you whispered, and Bradley looked at your perfect face. "Come on, Daddy. You can do it," you whispered, licking those pretty lips and whining. "You'll be the best Daddy."

"I'm your Daddy, Baby Girl," he growled, fucking you hard until your nipples were peeking out the top of your dress. Railing you until the slap of his body against yours was as loud as your whining. Your fingers were all wrapped up in his hair, and you guided his lips down to yours.

The kisses were filthy now, all tongue and dirty talk, and then Bradley was spilling his hot cum inside you, fucking it deeper. He was still softly stroking and pinching your clit, making your body milk every drop out of him as you came too. You squeezed his cock until the sensation had him dizzy.

His sweaty forehead was pressed to yours as your lips danced along his every time you whispered Daddy.

Bradley finally glanced up, relieved to find the area where he had parked was still empty. You were underneath him, chewing on your lip and coming down from your high. As his cock grew soft inside you, Bradley could feel his cum start to drip down your ass, and you lifted your head a little bit.

"Roo. We're going to mess up the upholstery."

Bradley laughed and kissed the beautiful curve of your cheek. "I fucking love you so much." Then he used your discarded underwear to carefully collect your joint cum before it could make too much of a mess. "You always take care of everything. Me, Tramp, the Bronco. Can't wait to make you a mommy."

---------------------------

When you got home, Bradley paused in front of the collage you made and hung over his piano. "What's this?"

"Your wedding gift. Or one of them."

He pulled you close to his side. "I thought maybe the birth control announcement was my wedding gift?"

"It was one of them," you said with a shrug.

"Are there any more?" he asked, running his fingers along the frame and looking at the selection of happy wedding photos you had chosen.

"Yes. Two more wedding gifts. And you'll like both of them."

"I didn't get you anything," he told you with a furrowed brow.

You looked up into his brown eyes and at his hair, all mussed from your fingers running through it.

"Yes, you did," you insisted, leading him to the bedroom. You helped Bradley unpack his bag while he played with Tramp. The dog was absolutely obsessed with him; you were sure he didn't miss you this much when you had been away in Annapolis.

"Good boy," Bradley said, playfully wrestling with him on the floor. "I'll take you for a nice long walk tomorrow when Mommy's at work."

You should have known he'd be like this now, but as soon as Bradley called you Mommy, he was on you again.

"I missed you," he whispered, pushing your cum streaked dress up over your butt and running his fingers along your back.

When you bent over the bed for him and felt him tease his fingers along your slit, you muttered, "I should have known. Now I'll never get anything done, because you're going to be on me day and night."

"You got that right."

But this time, he was slow and methodical, getting you off with his fingers on your clit and his lips on your neck. "I'm going to fill you up again and again. And you'll take every bit of me deep in that sweet pussy until I knock you up."

Those words delivered in that raspy voice were going to make you wild every single time.

"Bradley?" you mumbled as he pressed himself down against your back, spent but still inside you.

"Yes, my love?" he asked, his mustache brushing your ear and making you smile.

"What's the plan for your bachelor party tomorrow night?"

Bradley groaned and withdrew his cock, using his fingers to halt his cum from dripping out of you. It was like he was pampering your body in a brand new way, massaging you to keep it inside your pussy.

"I have no idea. I don't even want to do anything except get a few drinks at the Hard Deck and then come back home. But there will probably be strippers or hot air balloons or clowns or some shit."

He finally eased his hand away from your body, and now you were beyond exhausted. "Listen," you said with a laugh, "that all sounds fine, as long as it's not a clown stripper in a hot air balloon."

"Please don't give Jake any ideas."

"I won't. As long as you let me change into your shirt and fall asleep on you," you said, digging around in your nightstand for your new charm. Bradley helped you add it to your necklace chain, and then he was helping you get ready for bed.

-----------------------

The man wants to be a Daddy in every sense of the word. And letting Jake plan the parties seems like a terrible mistake.

PART 18

@mak-32

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@callsigndiamond

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@beebslebobs

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@monte-carlando

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@apparently-sunshine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@topgunbb

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@hecate-steps-on-me

@xoxabs88xox

#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x you #rooster fanfic #rooster x female reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster bradshaw x female reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick fanfiction #bradley rooster x reader

589 notes · View notes