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kangaracha · 4 months

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QUEENMAKER | CHAPTER 5

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pairing chan x reader

genre ninth member au, enemies to lovers, angst, fluff, coming of age, social media, cancel culture, anxiety, depression, forbidden love,

summary To JYPE, the solution is simple; take the sole trainee that will not debut with your brand new girl group, and use her to replace the missing vocalist in your male group that insisted on starting as nine.

Unfortunately, to the fans and the members themselves, it isn't that simple.

status ongoing

taglist OPEN

a/n apparently it has been 28 days since the last chapter, but the good news is i now have 4 chapters written in advance so january at least will have content. for those who haven't seen the random announcements on my blog, i've been sick and honestly probably will be again in january so your patience is appreciated, and i'm sorry, i'm not usually this sporadic with a project like this! to my editing team, who are feeling betrayed seeing this surprise chapter in their notifications, my chrissy new years gift to you is not asking for edits in the holiday season, roast me in the chat if anything is wrong (keeps, that last part doesn't apply to you)

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Even as you knock on the door to the studio, you're nervous.

Maybe you shouldn't be; it's been nearly a month exactly now, and you're fairly sure at this point that none of the boys hate you, though calling some of them friends has been easier said than done. Maybe that's why you're nervous in the first place, because it's been so long and you're still unsure where you stand within the group, especially with the one you're supposed to meet now...

It's not your fault. Well, maybe it is a little bit - you're aware that you're struggling to relax in their company, the way you had with the girls in Midnight or other trainees. But your schedules are so different too, you only see the others in practise, or in passing in the halls. Some days you practise on your own, while they are off on one schedule or another, living the life of idols that have built up their name, other days only half of them are there. Sometimes there is no dance practise scheduled at all, their own individual lessons or other commitments taking precedence.

It won't be like this forever, you just keep telling yourself. Three weeks more, and then you debut with the rest of them, and you're part of the group for real. Three weeks of hard work, and then, maybe, it gets easier.

Maybe. You've thought that before, only for an opportunity to slip away through your fingers. You wouldn't be surprised if it happened again.

The door opens - Chan, leaning over from his chair to tug on the door handle before he returns to his desk. "Come in," he says warmly, an arm gesturing you towards the couch behind him. It's already occupied by Changbin, who makes you smile when he gives you a hello and a wave. "Sit with me," he says, in Korean and then again in broken English, patting the cushions. "I'll be quiet, I promise."

You're reminded suddenly of how loud he can be, during practises or even when everyone is just sitting around, but you hesitate to mention it, sitting quietly beside him instead. "You can tell him to leave if you want," Chan adds, his back turning to his laptop. "He's not actually here for anything important."

"I'm here for emotional support," Changbin claims, only he puts on such a voice as he says it that it makes both of you laugh. "It's an important job."

"Okay, well." Chan's hands spread, like he doesn't have any say in the situation. "If you don't need support, you can tell him to leave."

"He can stay," you answer readily, and you don't really doubt your answer at all. Out of all the members, Changbin has been one of the friendliest; he'd been so warm and accepting on your first day, and gone out of his way in days since to talk to you or pull you into a joke when you were on the outskirts watching. Even if he was only doing it because you looked pathetically out of place among them, you appreciated it.

"Cool," Chan says, and then he shifts in his chair like he's uncomfortable, his eyes straying towards his laptop momentarily. "So. I wanted to talk to you about the comeback."

"I figured as much," you reply, aware that your hands are fidgeting nervously in your lap.

Chan's mouth opens, like he's going to say something, and then he hesitates, glancing away again. Apprehension rises in your throat, bitter like the taste of bad coffee as you swallow it back down again. It's one thing if you're nervous - but if he is unsure about what he's about to say too, then it could be-

"I've thought about it, and I've decided that you're not going to debut with us on this album."

Bad.

Your heart stops and then starts again, your chest tightening around your lungs even though you've heard this story before. It shouldn't even surprise you by now, the let-down; thinking you might have now, finally, done the work and reaped the reward, and yet every time you seem to let the hope creep into your chest just so that you can crumble twice as hard. You hadn't even realised you'd become this married to the idea of joining Stray Kids in the last three weeks, and yet the idea of getting dropped again hurts like a pain in your chest.

This was your last chance. No one else will debut you. The world isn't that kind of kind.

"Okay," you say, through a jaw that feels like it won't move enough to form the words. "It's - I understand. I'm sorry that I couldn't do it."

"Hang on," Chan says, a hand hovering between you like he's ready to catch you if you turn to leave. "Just hear me out - it's not that you're not good enough, okay? I just think it will help you if we wait a little bit longer, and the company were happy to agree."

"You've worked hard," Changbin says beside you, his face earnest. "No one thinks you can't do it."

"No," Chan agrees. "I'm just looking at the timeline, and the schedule they've drawn up for you, and I think you'd do much better if we push debut back to our next comeback in September."

September. Three more months away, rather than three weeks; three more months to push through, nose to the grindstone, that deadline looming over your head. Three more months in which someone might realise they've made a grave mistake and pull you right back out again, when you'd been so close to that finish line. Three more months feeling like an imposter in these boys' lives, waiting for life to even out into some kind of normal.

"Is that okay?" Chan asks, and you bite down the spiral of thoughts that pulls your mind down towards a big, black hole and nod, trying to pretend that it's nothing. The frown on his face doesn't look convinced, nor does the sheet of paper that he reaches behind him to fetch, shoving it into your hands.

"I want you to understand," he says as you look down at the paper, forcing your fingers to only hold it gently before you can rip it. A schedule, the next three weeks of your life laid out in a neat little chart that is detailed down to the minute and overflowing with things to do. "This is the choice they've given us; either we push you through this schedule and extra dance practise and debut in three weeks, or we wait sixteen weeks, and you do all of these things with the rest of us in a reasonable timeframe. I've been looking at it all week, and...I think it's too much. Waiting gives us a song prepared for nine members, takes the pressure off of the managers, gives you time to get to know everyone..."

You're forced to swallow the lump in your throat as you read the schedule and realise that Chan is right; the next week is full of photoshoots and content creation, with no room left for the dance practise you know you need to keep up with. It's rushed, and it's daunting, and at first look you're not really sure at all how you would handle everything. It's the life you've been training for for years now, and yet so many of the things on this list you feel like you haven't trained for at all.

"You're right," you admit, around a tongue that sits too heavy in your mouth. "I don't know why they thought this would work in the first place, when I'm so-"

"Someone high up had a great idea, and wanted it seen through as fast as possible," Chan says before you can finish. "Stray Kids haven't had a really...successful year. Maybe they were thinking of dropping us unless something changed, maybe they just really liked you. They've already agreed to push your debut back to September anyway, so it's not something we need to worry about now."

"As long as they still think it's a good idea in September," you say, and you manage to keep your tone light even though it doesn't sound much like a joke to you at all.

Changbin is the one to speak up, his hand slapping the arm of the couch. "They can't mess with us like that," he declares in the kind of voice that says he has complete confidence in what he says. "You want to be in Stray Kids, you're in Stray Kids, and you're not leaving."

"Exactly," Chan says warmly, and you manage to muster up a smile even though that tension still squeezes tight in your chest at the thought of another three months of limbo, not knowing if you'll stay or if you'll go. "Now," he says, turning back to his laptop, "I have better news; I've got a part for you in God's Menu that I want to hear, and I can play the next title track for you..."

TAGLIST

@kokinu09 @rainfallingfromthesky @lixie-phoria @mysweethannie @chlodavids @hanniemylovelyquokka @tfshouldidohere @lauraliisa @puppysmileseungmin @kalopsian-thoughts @puppy-minnie @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @kthstrawberryshortcake-main @acker-night @d-chagi @lynlyndoll @borahae-reads @ihrtlix @yienmarkk @minhwa @i2innie @jinnie-ret @conwunder @amesification @starssongs98

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rosesbxrry · 1 year

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teddy bear.

Pairing: Boyfriend! Heeseung X Girlfriend! Fem! Reader

Genre: Smut🔞(Minors DNI), established relationship AU!

Warnings: Dom! Heeseung, unprotected sex (wrap it up before you tap it), cream pie, teasing, cunnilingus, Heeseung using pet names on reader (princess/ baby/ angel), multiple orgasm, dirty talk, mixture of both praising and degradation, possessiveness (Heeseung being jealous over a teddy bear), Hopefully I didn’t miss out anything else

Summary: You decided to take advantage of the Christmas holiday to introduce your long-time boyfriend to your parents. However, you didn't expect Heeseung to get jealous over a teddy bear you kept gifted by your ex.

A Holiday Special: ➜ Heeseung

| ➜ Jay | ➜ Jake | ➜ Sunghoon |

Main masterlist

Word count: 4,165 words

a/n: Impulse decision for me to make a holiday/ Christmas special for the Hyung line! I will post the other’s every week in the month of December but since this was a last minute project that I made, Sunghoon’s part will probably be posted in the first week of January next year. Hope you all enjoy this little special gifts as a thank you for all the support in 2022!

For this year's Christmas holiday, you've decided to introduce your long-term boyfriend, Heeseung, to your parents after being consistently pestered by them for wanting to meet him for so long.

So, after clearing your's and Heeseung's schedule and buying the latest flight tickets to fly back to your hometown, the familiar scenery of the neighbourhood where you grew up passed through the windows of your parent's car as they drove the both of you to your childhood home from the airport.

The sight of the area enveloped in clear white snow, and the parachuting of snowflakes from the sky caused you to shiver a bit. It was not like you hated winter, but you preferred the warmth of a summer's day rather than damp, gloomy and freezing weather.

A hand places itself on your hands— Heeseung's long and lanky fingers intertwined with yours, yet when you look up at him beside you from the passenger's seat, he still pays attention to your mother's rambles with deep interest. His doe eyes stayed firm on her, and he nodded his head occasionally, which made you stifle a little laugh at how cute he looked.

To say your parents were smitten by him was an understatement.

Who wouldn't be when he noticed every little detail about you? Even holding your hand when he knew you would be cold like it was second nature to him.

When you arrived at your parent's home, you made sure not to let your mother self-indulge in Heeseung's presence. When she moved to show him a collage of pictures she kept from when you were a child into your awkward teens, you knew it was time to make excuses about how tired you and Heeseung were from the trip in hopes of getting away.

"I didn't know you used to be a part of the choir?" Heeseung teased, helping to move the heavy luggage into your childhood bedroom so that the both of you would be staying while here.

"We all have our dark past," You replied, removing your puffed jacket. "It was either that or playing the triangle once in a 3-minute song at the back with only the heads of the kids at the front in sight."

"I think it was cute." He laughed, lying down on the bed with his eyes darting around the place. He reached back to grab a giant teddy bear sitting on the bed, placing it on his lap and playing with the red heart it was holding with the words I love you written on it.

Your eyes caught the scene, and immediately an idea popped into your head, leading you to smirk unnoticed by your boyfriend, who was oblivious to your upcoming scheme.

"Oh! That teddy bear brings back so many old memories," You nonchalantly mused, trying too hard to seem unbothered. He throws you a curious look, hugging the stuffed toy against his chest relaxedly.

"Why?"

"Oh, nothing, just that it was a gift from my ex during high school. Isn't it nice and fluffy?"

You saw him freeze at the corner of your eyes, the innocent grip around the teddy bear loosened at the new revelation that you still kept something from your ex— and he was hugging it.

You had never seen him so appalled by anything.

It's not often you get to make Heeseung jealous because it would often be the other way around, which is why you enjoyed deciphering every bit of reaction he was showing. You took the chance to steal the teddy bear from his embrace, watching his bottom lip pout and his eyes low at how you were affectionately cuddling it against your chest.

"That thing is not sleeping on the bed with us." He firmly said.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at his demand. "Come on, and this gift was years ago! Look how nice of a cuddling buddy it can be for the winter night." You held the stuffed toy up for him to see; a soft pillow texture with the right size to hug, its head tilted to the side innocently as if it were not the source of his problem.

The look he gave the bear was murderous at best.

"Whatever. It’s not stepping a single foot near this bed." He curtly replied, frowning with his arms crossed around his chest to show his determination.

"Besides, why would you need it when you can cuddle with me instead?" He muttered under his breath with a slight spice that was hard to miss.

You wanted to laugh at how he was acting but kept it calm, continuing with the charade if it meant seeing him so uptight about the whole ordeal. You bit your lower lip, using every ounce of self-control not to break out of character, opting to show him a looped-sided grin which he did not appreciate.

After freshening up and pushing the whole thing behind, you had a great Christmas Eve dinner with your parents. In true fashion, they pry every detail from him— from how the both of you met, his studies and what his parents do for a living. Your boyfriend was a natural charmer for sure, answering the questions with his pearly white smile and galaxy-set eyes while throwing in some of his humour that sometimes, you eyed your parents for laughing a bit too much. But then again, it was a good reassurance to you that they have fallen for this man as much as you did.

The night ended with some sweet desserts that your mother made and endless conversation filled in between the warm scent of cinnamon and apple at the dining table. The snowfall has quickly thickened outside, and the darkness has taken over the sky, but it didn't stop your parents from attending the communal Christmas event held by the neighbourhood right after.

So, as they left, you and Heeseung were left to do the dishes and clean the kitchen voluntarily.

"Do you think your parents like me?" Heeseung asked when you passed him the washed plate for him to dry. A disbelief looked crossed your face, wiping your head to the side to face him.

"Baby," You started. "I think they will probably cry when we leave, and I can reassure you that it's not because of their flesh and bone."

Heeseung laughed, giving you a sheepish smile as you jokingly soaped the dirty plates a little too bitterly. In all honesty, he was a little worried about meeting your parents, which turned him into a nervous wreck, especially when he regarded you as the love of his life. He wanted to know if they were being nice out of obligation for their daughter's happiness instead of seeing him as someone they could trust.

However, hearing your words have lifted the burden and worries off his shoulder.

Heeseung leaned down to your level and pecked your lips abruptly, taking you by surprise that the spoon you were washing almost slipped out of your grasp. You looked up to give him a confused stare, the proximity of his face was close enough for you to feel bashful at the way he was fixated on your lips.

"What was that?" You questioned.

"I don't know." He answered honestly, but you recognized the sultry tone in the way he replied.

You observed how he was holding back a grin; his features were now agonizingly attractive from the way his Adam's apple bobbed to the slope of his nose, which reminded you how perfectly it fit between the spaces of your legs. You smiled back at him with equal anticipation.

"Maybe you should do it again." You challenged, and it was enough for him to swoop down to kiss you again, but this time, he held onto the side of your face to deepen it. You didn't care that your hands were still wet as you tangled your fingers between his locks of raven hair.

Your lips moved sensually before the intensity heightened as the two pairs of arms eagerly moved to caress each other's bodies. You could tell Heeseung was getting heated, his lips moving sloppily against yours; the wet sound emitted was erotic to your ears.

His hands that were once on your back slid down to rest on your ass, and he pulled the front of your body flushed against his own. Once you felt his stiff bulge, a loud moan erupted from your lips as he jerked his hips for more friction, feeling your pussy drooling at his desperate motion.

Fuck he felt so big. Your legs quiver at the thought.

Heeseung broke the kiss to drop forward close to the crook of your neck.

"When do you think your parents are going to be back?" His voice was hoarse, leaving soft and open kisses on the sensitive skin of your neck. You attempted to make sense of his question in your state but it proved to be difficult at how breathless he was making you feel.

"An hour or two at best." You swallowed, goosebumps blooming on your skin.

"Good."

That was the only word you heard from him; the next thing you knew, he was pulling you by the wrist towards the familiar direction of your upstairs bedroom.

The sound of the door banging close echoed in the room. Heeseung attached his moist lips back to yours in a feverish manner, his hands sliding under your shirt, and you shivered at the way his cold rings grazed your skin. The impact of your back hitting the soft mattress was expected, arching your back to aid him in taking off your shirt and bra hastily.

"God, you're so beautiful." He moaned, leaning down from his position on top of you to squeeze your breast. You whimpered when he played with your hardened nipples in between his thumb and index finger, your hands tugging on the ends of his shirt in a desperate attempt for him to realize you wanted it off.

"Heeseung...."

He smirked at the way you called his name intensely, watching your mouth open agape to allow strings of sweet moans to escape when he flicked at your peaking nipples.

"Patience baby," He said as you watched him from below as he pulled his shirt over his head, exposing his lean physique and cut waistline that your hands achingly gravitate. Heeseung let out a content sigh, enjoying the sensation of your palms smoothing his abdomen to his chest, leaving a trail of searing stimulation on his skin.

"Let me take it slow, okay?"

He begins to caress the delicate curve of your clavicle with his hot tongue, his head moving in a downward motion and leaving a trail of saliva behind. A sharp gasp escapes your mouth when he reaches the swell of your breast before he inevitably sucked in a nipple, the tip of his tongue swiping back and forth over it, making your head spin at the amount of pleasure overwhelming your body.

"Ah—fuck," You gritted out, feeling your pussy dampen that you had to squeeze your thighs together.

Heeseung continued to drag his tongue down, slowly tasting every inch of your skin as he said. The heat in your stomach grew hotter, your breath hitching higher as you realize he was getting closer to the one area you needed him the most.

Just the thought of his lips against your drenched folds tightens your grip on the wrinkled bed sheet, and the fact that his buttoned nose would be resting on your throbbing clit— fucking god, you would probably ascend to heaven at the mercy of it.

Heeseung let out an amused chuckle when you moaned loudly as he pulled off the last article of clothing on you. With your legs resting on his shoulders, his eyes gauged at how your folds were dripping with slick and the hunger he felt grew ferocious with only the thought of satiating it by burrowing his face between your lovely legs.

"So wet and needy for me," You felt his fiery gaze without looking at him, his fingers pulling your pussy apart to give him a better sight which elicits a soft moan. "—shit, look at this pretty clit mm? so swollen and perfect"

Your face was inflamed at his words because it was true; you felt every bone and cell in your body reacting to every touch, every movement and every sound he made that you were spilling an unimaginable amount of arousal from your core. Your brain was hazed with immense lust, with the last grain of sanity thrown out of the window.

You wanted him; you wanted him so much that it hurts.

Heeseung took advantage of your adorable and dishevelled state, caressing your inner thighs close to your pussy with the pads of his thumb.

"I can have a taste, can I?" His comment was coy, tilting his head innocently to the side as if he was not witnessing you falling apart.

He was torturing you with those Bambi eyes.

"Hee— please," You sobbed, a hand over your eyes as you were slowly running out of patience, completely bewitched body and soul by pleasure. "Please, I want you so fucking badly."

Heeseung was drinking up your desperate pleads, his crotch growing painfully tight against his pants the more you squirmed. Precum was slowly leaking out of his slit onto the fabric of his briefs, but his priority was to taste your sweet juices before he could settle his hard cock. He licked his lips, finally satisfied with getting off by your brazen mewls that it was time for you to receive your reward.

"Anything for my princess."

You threw your head back when he licked a stripe against your core; a mantra of curses escaped your lips as the wet muscles of his tongue drew out the intricacy of your folds. He made out with your pussy; nibbling, lapping and sucking on the sweet essence that infiltrated his senses until he couldn't have enough of your pussy on his face.

"oh my god—" You couldn't even finish your sentence as a whine erupted when you felt the tip of his nose nuzzled against your swollen clit. Electrifying pleasure shoots through underneath your skin that it tingled the more he bobbed his head to nudge on the sensitive nerve.

"Keep your legs open," His low growl vibrates into your folds, sending waves of bliss straight to the knot in your stomach, smacking his lips to savour how sloppy he was making you. He grips your thighs to make you stop squirming, pulling you down more towards his face.

"Don't make me stop eating you out. You wouldn't like that, won't you?"

You can't let him do that. Never.

"No, no, no! Don't stop! please," You couldn't fathom whether he was acting serious or being a tease, but all you know is to obey his command instinctively, opening your legs wide for him to feel the smirk on his lips.

"Good girl," He praised, voice dripping with honey.

Your laboured panting reverberates as loud as the beating of your heart as he dives back into your core. His tongue and mouth moved so much faster and harder that you could barely catch your breath, making you thrust your hips relentlessly to gain more friction.

Every brush of his nose on your clit, every suction and graze of his tongue and lips on the slit of your cunt, setting the knot in your stomach a blaze more excruciating than before. You played with your erect nipples with the rhythm of his mouth with your head thrown back to let him enjoy the sight of you pleasuring yourself as you tried to reach the threshold of your release faster.

"Don't—stop— fuck! I'm gonna cum." You warned.

Heeseung made the final move to seal his lips around your swollen clit, suctioning pressure enough for you to release into his hot mouth. You cried out his name as your back arched, and the heat in your stomach finally came undone as waves of ecstasy got you trembling from head to toe. His mouth never ceases to move against your tender folds, making you ride your orgasm as he smooths a palm over your tense abdomen, adamant about making sure he drinks every bit of your sweet release.

"Heeseung," Your voice quivered, bathing in the aftershock of your high as you glanced down at the male between your parted thighs.

His dark, intense eyes immediately zeroed in on you, taking a few more laps of your juices until he was satisfied, noticing how his eyes were dazed, as if he was in an enchanted state at just seeing you in the utmost pleasure.

"You did so well, angel," He leaned up to kiss you on the lips; a string of your cum mixed with his saliva was visible when he broke the exchange. He gently moves a stray hair away from your face and tucks it behind your ears. "Such a good girl cumming in my mouth."

A whispered litany of praises escaped his lips, caressing your neck with the bridge of his nose, letting your finger comb through his locks when your body finally registered the exhaustion creeping in from your orgasm. The domestic atmosphere settled in as he continued to nuzzle against your shoulder, feeling the comfortable weight of his body on top of yours.

"Feel better?" He rested his weight on his elbow to look at you properly. "You okay? I can run the shower for you, and we can rest up after."

You chuckled at his natural shift, reaching out to touch playfully the dangling silver earrings he wore. It was unfathomable to you that he could edge your deepest desire before turning into the softest and most endearing person seconds apart. His offer relaxes the tired muscles of your body, but you knew you couldn't end the night knowing that his release didn't ensue.

You shake your head, "I can't just leave you like this."

You watch his face contoured in pleasure when you palm your hand on his still-hard bulge; the friction causes him to erupt into a deep groan. With quick action, you massage his clothed cock, and the beautiful soft whines he emits sends waves of pleasure straight to your spent pussy.

Heeseung was too preoccupied with making you feel good that he didn't realize how needy he was with his release, grinding and humping his hips covetously against your hand to get the delicious waves of friction. You continued to grope his cock and squeeze the thick length until he was a panting mess straddling above you, observing how his eyes shut close, and his body jerked forward when you rubbed his head with your nails.

"But—"

"No buts," You cut him off, tugging his sweatpants down to expose the thin briefs underneath, and your mouth immediately watered at how huge the outline was. "I want you to fuck me with your big cock, Hee."

He opened his eyes, and you noted the sudden shift in the way his jaw clenched, the initial soft feature of his shyness wholly replaced with a feral-like gaze that would swallow you whole behind his wispy bangs. He played with the soft cushion of your lower lip, piercing eyes studying how your lips parted to allow the finger to enter sensually.

"I'm not gonna go easy on you baby," He swallowed thickly once your tongue coated his thumb with saliva, putting a bit of pressure on the roof of your mouth. "You might scream at the top of your lungs once I'm in."

"Don't worry," You sucked on his thumb innocently while never breaking eye contact, which thrills him even more. "Maybe you'll find out in a second that I like it that way."

Heeseung always prides himself on self-control, but something about the sight of you holding his writs to push his thumb deeper into the cavern of your mouth, your big eyes looking up at him through your lashes as the wet sound of you sucking grew sloppy— something snapped when he realized the other figure present in the room.

It didn't register your mind when he shoved the familiar teddy bear close to your face.

"Wha—"

"You said you wanna cuddle with it, right?"

He roughly pulled down his sweatpants to expose his manhood, allowing it to stand tall in all its glory against his abdomen. He stroked his engorged cock to spread the precum from the pink head to the underside of his veins; his tight balls bounced with every knead until his length was nice and lubricated.

At the same time, his other arm pulled you swiftly by the ankle, resting one leg over his shoulder. You shudder as the cold air hits your core, wide open for him to see your pussy that was already glistening.

"I'll make sure you'll hold it tight, so you better don't let go." You hold the teddy bear tight to your chin, moaning when the male rubs his head against your clit and along your wet folds.

A broken moan erupted from your throat, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he pushed into your slit. No matter how many times he had fucked your hole, you couldn't get enough of how euphoric the initial stretch was, feeling his large and throbbing cock against your hot walls.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." That was all you could utter when he bottomed out. Before you could adjust, he began to thrust in and out of you at a fast tempo, disregarding any grace and showing the ravenous resolve he meant.

You dug your fingernails harder against the teddy bear, tears welling up at the inner corners of your eyes, feeling like he was splitting you apart from the inside the harder he thrust.

“Ah!—wait, it's too—"

"I told you, didn't I?" With one grip on the thigh of your anchored leg and the other on your hips to keep you in place, Heeseung continued to piston his hips forward, ensuring he went all the way in and out at a ruthless pace. "I won't go easy on you, princess."

Heeseung spills his drool right where his cock meets your slit, giving him more power to thrust in swiftly and out sharply. As much as you were enjoying him deep inside you, the male let out soft agonizing grunts as well; your walls spasmed over his wide girth until he felt lightheaded. You felt so good around him that he projected it with every merciless lunge to chase down his high selfishly.

He glanced down at you and almost laughed at how you held the teddy bear close to your face, muffling your moans and crying that the sight enamoured him.

"Scream it out, baby," He growled. The mattress deep down behind your back as he pushes hard to allow his swollen head to hit the deepest part of your pussy. "Tell your precious teddy bear how much my cock makes you feel good— how much I can fuck this tight little cunt until you can't walk."

Fuck, you were tightening up with every dirty spite he spilt.

"Hee—Heeseung—ahhh," You plead. The familiar heated knot grows, and your second orgasm hangs by a thread, throwing your head back with your mouth agape. "I'm—I'm so close!"

"That's it, baby. Cum for me." He coaxed.

Your surroundings instantly melted away, spatial perception slipping through the cracks, and all you could focus on was the mind-blowing release that spiralled in your body. A few seconds later, Heeseung came after a few more thrusts with a loud groan as he filled you up with his hot cum, fucking you through your orgasm slowly until you could feel the mixed sticky arousal oozing out to drip down your inner thighs.

He collapsed beside you, and you could tell how exhausted yet buzzing the experience was. As coherency slowly registered in your mind and the adrenaline pumping arrested into a soft hum, Heeseung pulled you into his embrace in silent bliss, caressing your back delicately.

At that moment, you would have never thought that your Christmas trip to visit your parents would end up like this, but it beats the cold and the fact that your little scheme to rile him up ended up between your love-making session.

Which makes you realize—

"I lied, by the way."

Heeseung turned his head to face you with a confused look.

"The teddy bear was not from my ex," You explained, observing how his eyebrow furrowed to understand. "I bought it when I was twelve during a garage sale for like two bucks."

His face fell immediately, realization seeping into him.

"You're a menace to society." He groaned, throwing the teddy bear you were holding across the room in embarrassment as your amused laugh only depended seeing the pink flush on his ears, making this Christmas holiday an unforgettable memory for the both of you.

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A Holiday Special: ➜ Heeseung

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morallyinept · 5 months

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A Christmas One Shot follow up to my Joel Miller series, Five Days.

Five Days Series Masterlist

☝🏻It would be ideal for you to read the series first if you haven't yet, as this one shot follows on from this series directly. You can read it as a stand alone, but some things might not make sense.

Summary: Months after the final events in Five Days, you and Joel prepare for the next event in your lives at the commune - your wedding day.

Pairing: Post-Outbreak Joel Miller x MatureF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. However reader is of a similar age range as Joel; in her late forties/early fifties. Joel is slightly older at 56.)

Word Count: 7.7k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral M receiving/fingering/angst/mentions of death

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.

☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned. If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: An additional festive part, wrapping up Joel and Reader's journey, with a spangly Christmas bow on top. Thank you again to everyone who has read and enjoyed Five Days. Truly means the world. Happy Holidays! 🎄

Enjoy! 🖤

FIVE DAYS SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Your breath fogs the pane, a condensed, misty cloud as you breathe, surveying the view below in the main square.

The small commune square is adorned with makeshift festive decorations, remnants of the world that once thrived with the capitalist depiction of it all. Buzzing with a distinct holiday cheer, despite the lees of the post-apocalyptic world surrounding it just outside the gates.

Improvised string lights hang from makeshift structures with a welcome, twinkling glow, despite the sky still being light outside, albeit a little more grey now. The pleasant threat of more snowfall lingers in the distance.

In one corner, a group of children - some of whose faces you can put names to now - their laughter echoing through the air, work together to craft snowmen from the scarce patches of snow that still adorn the ground from the recent flurry.

This winter hasn’t been as harsh as you’d expected yet, but the winter of your discourse still remains heavy on your shoulders despite finding some semblance of daily normality here.

You even have a job now, tending to the horses. It’s basically mucking out and feeding, but you’re keen to learn and prove yourself as someone who can pull their weight. Plus, being parted from the black mare for too long, whom you rode to and from the outpost, leaves you with a sense of unease.

Her big, glassy eyes fill you with some comfort the more time you spend with her; those gentle head butts into your own, when it all gets a bit much, reassures you she feels your pain and shares it with you. You’ve since discovered her name is Ashen.

You watch, curiously, as a trellis of flowers is lifted by several men and settled into place. A graceful arch, fashioned from salvaged and repurposed wood, and built and sanded down by Joel himself as a project over the last few weeks - a gift for your wedding day. It's now decorated in vines and dried wild flowers, preserved in their seasonal beauty and uniqueness.

You remember rubbing salve into his splintered hands in the evenings, massaging around his stubby thumbs and calloused palms as he winced and groaned at the rawness fading away before those hands would grip onto your skin and leave you gasping with fading imprints. He really is so good with his hands…

“Here,” Sal’s voice rouses you from your heated reverie and the view outside.

Turning, her hair is pinned neatly and she looks younger somehow. More at ease, more feminine than you’ve ever seen her. Flaming red hair matches her lips and her eyes sparkle.

You smile, taking the delicate lace that she holds out for you, and you step into it, allowing her to button you up.

“Are you nervous?” She asks you as her nimble fingers work. Your eyes are still transfixed out the window as rows of unmatching chairs are lined up by working bodies.

Seems like the whole commune is involved in contributing to the preparations.

You shake your head. “No. Feels right.” You say, agreeing with the stringent relief that prevents any butterflies from flapping their sickly wings. “Feels like it should have already happened, years ago.” You confess, smiling as you smooth down the lace around your cuffs.

“Joel’s a lucky man.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m the lucky one.” Luck, despite everything, seemed to have had your back all along. Although the paths it led you down to find it, you’re not so sure about.

“Let me get a look at you.” Sal says as she steps back. You turn to face her and she sighs in awe.

“Christy has outdone herself. This dress is stunning.” Sal murmurs, her eyes glistening.

“She really has.” You say, admiring the mid-length, hand-made, gown that sits snugly against your body. Made from scraps of lace, Christy, the resident seamstress, has managed to make a dress that’s perfectly suited for the occasion. Simple, elegant, but meaningful.

“Look,” Sal says, adjusting the mirror and you catch sight of yourself.

The lace is delicate and stitched with love and envious talent, and weaves across the front of your collarbone and down your arms. There’s a slight dip in the back as it hangs a little lower down your spine before cascading into a waterfall of buttons, some mismatching, some with sparkly gems in the centre, but it’s forgiven and actually adds to the charm.

The dress is simply more than you ever thought possible, more than you probably deserve. More than you ever thought you’d have in this lifetime.

“You’re beautiful.” Sal says, dabbing at her eyes.

“Stop. You’re going to make me cry.”

She laughs, a little choke being swallowed down. “I just wish Kelper was here to see you like this.”

“Sal-” You begin with a choking lump in your throat.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry.” You shake your head. “I wish he could too.”

You spend a moment regarding one another; her eyes wandering into the painful territory of yours as you both recall the eviscerating loss.

Both thriving in it for a few moments, sharing in the grief that has lingered in the marrow of your bones for the past five months or so. Paused, sometimes, in that moment when Tommy relayed over the walkie-talkie the devastation that Kelper had perished in the fight against the infected horde.

It still seems like yesterday and centuries ago. And you were mad, hopping mad with him for a while after your return to the commune; mad that he could be so foolish, so selfish, as to leave you all without him.

But with time, taking each day, each sunrise and sunset, one foot in front of the other, the anger dissipated into raw grief. And it walks alongside you now, linking arms with all the other’s you've lost in your life.

Another name on a chalkboard above a fireplace, another ribbon tied to a tree. Another splinter in your heart.

While the anticipation of marrying Joel fills you with inexplicable joy and pertinent relief, the absence of Kelper, casts a malignant shadow, a blot on the sun.

The glint of excitement in your eyes is tempered by a soft sadness that hovers like a wailing banshee that’s attached itself to your side permanently it feels; it won't stop screaming in your ear. A tribute to the friend, partner, even soulmate, who had been your anchor in tumultuous times of endurance and survival.

Yet, as you stand ready to embark on this new chapter with Joel in a world that still seems so uncertain at times, still so… frightening, despite being safe behind reinforced walls, you find some strength in the enduring gravity of love.

Kelper's memory, a guiding presence now in some ways when he talks to you when you most need it, whispers words of encouragement, reminding you that even in loss, love persists in this broken world and it’s worth finding and clinging onto.

It’s the reason you’re still alive.

And it's something you hold on to, even if your fingers ache from gripping it too tightly.

Even when the grief consumes and you sob unabashed and uncontrollably into Joel’s broad shoulders in the middle of the night.

And he holds you through it, anchoring you and steering you back to yourself as you work through it; a golden compass bringing you home when you lose your way in the dark.

Sal picks up the make-up brush and hands it to you with a gentle smile as you dab at your eyes, and you chuckle.

“I love you,” she says gently, nodding.

You pull her towards you and cradle her tightly.

“I love you, more.” You say, clinging on and wondering if you’ll ever find the strength to let her go again.

“Well, I’ll be fuckin’ damned.” Tommy says, taking off his Stetson as he ambles into the room.

“Don’t ya say it.” Joel warns with a frown.

“Ya don’t know what I was goin’ to say.” Tommy smiles with an adept grin.

“Yeah. I do.” Joel says, turning, his hands fiddling with the tie.

Joel regards his younger brother narrowly as he steps into the room and bounds up to him. “Was gonna say ya look handsome, is all.”

“Yeah, right.” Joel scoffs. ”Help me with this thing, will ya? It’s all fuckin’ knotted up to hell.” Joel gruffs with a heavy sigh, tempting to forgo the tie entirely, lest he strangle himself with it first.

“Ya comb your hair?” Tommy asks, and Joel ducks as he goes to swipe at it.

“Leave off.” He says, checking it’s still in place.

For once, his unruly curls have been slicked down and back neatly, silver streaking through them that appears metallic in the wet gel, and seems more prominent these days.

As Joel dons the smartest plaid shirt he owns, and his standard pair of jeans that have seen better days, a mixture of emotions play across his weathered features despite his hardest at trying to mask them. It’s getting harder these days to keep it up.

The nervous excitement of marrying you, the love of his life, is palpable, but it dances alongside a more subdued undercurrent of opaque reflection.

“Ya nervous?” Tommy asks, as he straightens up Joel’s tie. He sees how his face is pulled tight in that ever present frown.

Joel nods, then shrugs. “Were you? When you n’ Maria tied the knot?”

“Was shittin’ myself.” Tommy admits with a bashful smile.

“Why?”

Tommy shrugs. “It’s forever, man.”

“But, that’s the point, ain’t it?” Joel queries after a moment’s pause.

“Yeah… I dunno. Maybe.”

“Ya regret it?” Joel asks, peering at his younger brother who still seems to be ageing at a much slower rate than Joel; it makes him grind down on his back molars.

Tommy immediately shakes his head, slick oiled curls tousling as he does so.

“No. S’not what I meant. I love Maria n’ I wanted to marry her. Just feels… different now, y’know? Like, to how it would‘ve been back then. Means somethin’ more than just vows now, I think. Somethin’... profound.”

“Profound, huh?” Joel snorts. He never thought he'd hear Tommy say something like that. Didn’t even know he knew the meaning of the word.

“Yeah, like serendipity or some shit. Wasn't lookin’ for it, n’ there she was. She makes me a better man, Joel.” Tommy says quietly.

He glances briefly at his brother’s eyes, the same dark eyes they share from their mother, and then back to the tie. “Ya lady do that for you?”

“Mm. She does.” Joel agrees, his fingers buzzing slightly at the thought.

“Shit, what did ya do with this thing?” Tommy chuckles, as he fights with the knot.

“I dunno. First time I’ve ever had to wear one.” Joel grits.

“Ya tellin’ me.” Tommy snorts.

Joel remains quiet, thoughtfully contemplating. Thinking about back before the outbreak, and what it would’ve been like if he’d married you whilst you were both still young and fresh faced. When he might've known how to tie a fuckin’ tie by himself.

And of course, he had intended to, even brought a ring; spent ages picking it out, but he never got to give it to you.

You’d left.

He briefly wonders what happened to that ring, where it is now on the planet.

A season of what ifs and unanswered scenarios plague his thoughts with spiked edges. Would you have even said yes back then? Would you have lasted, or would a quick divorce have followed?

He knows it’s fruitless to try and unpick it all whilst Tommy battles with the knot that now feels tighter against his throat, but Joel’s always been a brooding thinker, much to his detriment at times.

But he can't help but think about the journey that’s brought him to this day - the years of separation from you, the trials faced, the things he’s done in the darkest chapters of his life. The loved ones he’s lost along the way.

Sarah’s face flashes in his mind, her soft eyes and gentle smile beaming at him, and he bows his head, sighing.

“Y’alright?” Tommy asks.

“Yeah,” Joel mutters.

He takes in a slow, deep breath, steadying himself against the swirl of emotions he can already feel lingering in the dark corners, brewing, flexing their claws ready to tear deep gashes in his skin. They never really leave.

Tommy finishes manipulating the tie and he taps Joel’s shoulder affectionately when it’s done.

Joel turns to the small, chipped shaving mirror to get a better look at it, and hums in a mirthed satisfaction. “It’ll do.” He supposes.

“M’happy for you, Joel.” Tommy says, and Joel glances up at him through the mirror. “Ya deserve it, some peace. A good woman to come home to who’ll rub ya feet.”

“She hates feet.” Joel states rather po-faced.

Tommy smiles, breaking into an airy chuckle and so does Joel. The chortles between them sounding so foreign despite their intensity as they mutate into wheezed laughter.

And then Joel does something he feels like he hasn’t done for a long time, and should probably do more often.

He pulls his younger brother Tommy into a tight, binding hug.

“I love ya, man.” Tommy says.

“You too.” Joel mutters.

“C’mon, let’s get ya married.” Tommy states, clapping his back like thunder.

Tables adorned with scavenged tablecloths showcase a humble feast of canned goods, preserved fruits, and perhaps a few hunted game offerings in the Tipsy Bison.

The survivors of the commune, dressed in their best makeshift attire, share muted stories, laughter, and the precious company of one another, forming a close-knit family that has thrown up two fingers in the face of adversity as they pack out the chairs just outside the bar, some standing at the back of the makeshift aisle as the whole commune comes to bear witness.

The nip in the air has them huddling in coats and scarfs, but the atmosphere is incredibly warm and inviting.

Guthrie stands at the head of the trellis, bible in hand and in his smartest pressed shirt ready to officiate in a world where laws are just spoken words now instead of legal documents.

But it doesn’t matter, because in matters of the heart, it's more than binding.

Tommy and Joel wait in front of him. Maria sits with her baby bouncing on her knee, cooing quietly. Max looks on from the opposite side of the trellis, wearing an excited grin that makes his jaw ache.

Hands clasped in front, Joel’s fingers twitch as he clears his throat nervously.

“Not long now, brother.” Tommy says, clapping him on the back again, and Joel swallows thickly through the heavy wind of it.

As Joel stands at the makeshift altar beneath the trellis arch he’d spent days carving intricately, adorned with the dried flowers collected by good natured souls, the weight of the moment presses upon him.

The air, usually filled with the festive sounds of the commune, now feels dense and stifling around him. The tie feels tight once more at his throat as he swallows with a now dry, grazed windpipe.

The trepidation that’s lingered in the corners of his mind crystallises into an overwhelming wave of anxiety. And he hears that little voice creep up again from behind his shoulders.

She’s not coming, Joel. She doesn’t love you. She could never love you.

His heart races, the sound echoing in his ears like a distant drumbeat. The gentle flutter of muted conversations around him and the soft whispers of the cool, crisp breeze seems to amplify, creating a disorienting cacophony that pierces his eardrums.

Joel's breaths become shallow, each inhale a struggle against an invisible force tightening around his chest. Each breath in seems to scrape against his throat, the air refusing to fill his lungs with ease like it once did.

Joel's hands, usually steady and weathered by years of survival, betray him as they tremble uncontrollably. Eyes fixed on the path where you’ll soon walk towards him, Joel feels the world closing in, seeming to warp and contort, and the edges of his vision blur like a watercolour painting in the rain.

The trellis arch, once a symbol of hope and new beginnings containing his blood, sweat and tears, now seems to loom overhead, threatening to crush him; its shadow dancing with an unsettling rhythm.

The vibrant colours of the flowers mutate into a disorienting palette, dying and crisping before his eyes, and the string lights flicker like lightning, their glow suddenly too harsh, too bright.

Dizzy, he sways as he clutches at his chest, and feels Tommy pressing up against him, like a weighted tackle.

“Joel! Joel!”

His voice is distant, sounding further and further away as Joel spirals, the ground coming up fast; his knees cracking against it.

She could never love you, Joel! Not after everything you’ve done!

Rampant beads of sweat form on Joel's forehead, his hands clammy as they tightly grip on the edges of Tommy’s jacket as he wheezes.

The weight of the moment, the culmination of years of separation and the scars etched into your shared history, bare down on him.

The fear of losing this newfound happiness seizes him in a vice grip until it chokes the life out of him and it all goes black.

Told you Joel.

Told you that you were going to die alone...

He wakes to the sound of continual beeping in his ears.

Beep-beep-beep-beep...

Heavy headed and with a really dry mouth, he sits up to feel a hand pressing gently against his bare sternum.

Following the path of it, the arm adorned in faded lace, he finds your face, pressed tight in its worry and concern.

He did it, he let you down. Completely and irrevocably, just like he knew he would.

“Slowly,” you ease, as he sits himself upright against a pillow that feels like it's barely there.

“Don’t fuss, m’alright.” Joel sighs, glancing down at his chest, shirt open and no sign of his damned tie. “S’all this?” He tweaks at the wires curiously stuck to his chest.

“They thought you might have had a heart attack.” You say, gravely.

“What?” His eyes widen and snap to yours.

“It was a panic attack, Joel.” You say, softly. “You’re okay.”

He frowns, his eyes shying away from yours. He feels your fingers knotting into his hand, thumb stroking reassuringly over the thick gristle of his knuckles.

“I ruined our day,” he mutters through clenched teeth.

“No. You didn’t." You shake your head. "Hey, look at me.” You sway.

“I can’t. M’not supposed to see ya yet.”

“Joel. Look at me.” You press, delicately.

Slowly, he finds the courage to face you, head on, and he can’t believe what he sees. You, staring at him with the same adoration you’ve had etched into your features since the very beginning.

From that moment your eyes met when you were flighty, little things, when the world was kinder and had less teeth.

The same way you looked at him when you bumped into him outside The Tipsy Bison all those months ago, stunting him and making him believe that a bland, beige thing such as a miracle could really exist.

You, looking at him with those same adoring eyes when he made love to you again, after all those years that had passed between you. Decades of swampy regret and missing pieces that no-one else could really fit into or fill; connected with you again on some other level that could only transcend his mere understanding.

And he knows he's undeserving. That even though he shouldn’t listen to it, that insidious little voice is right. He doesn't deserve you looking at him like this.

But he never wants you to stop.

“Ya look… so beautiful, darlin’,” he chokes out.

You smile and pat his stacked chest. “You scrub up pretty well yourself, Mr Miller.”

You lean forward and place a kiss on his temple, just below the spikey, flower-shaped scar.

Joel closes his eyes, savouring the feel of you, your breath settling into his pores. Inhaling the smell of fragrant soap on your skin; the scent of the lavender perfume that’s made in the commune and dessciates the pillows in your bed.

“Ya got all prettied up for me.” He says looking up at you, fingers brushing against the side of your cheek with a dusting of powder to accentuate your skin tone, and a light sheen of highlighter that makes you glow. “Ya glowin’.” He confirms, awestruck.

His lips find yours, tasting the balm on them. Your fingers scratch in the waves behind his ears; his once slicked back hair now ruffled and fluffy again behind his ears.

“Everyone knows? They saw, I-”

You smile, softly. “It’s okay, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Joel. They were all worried, because they care about you.”

He frowns again and squeezes your hand. “M’sorry. Don’t want ya to worry.”

“Too late. You’re stuck with my worry.” You smile.

“S’not too late, ya know.” He says, tentatively with a small voice.

“Too late for what?”

He sighs heavily. He turns towards the machine that’s beeping annoyingly in his ear and jabs at a button, but it doesn’t silence it.

“If you even think about saying what I think you’re going to say, you’ll be spending months in here, Joel. Multiple broken bones.” You warn and he shakes his head, unable to contain the small smirk that threatens to tear up the corners of his mouth.

“M’not gonna say it.”

“Good.”

“But, it’s not too late.” He reminds you anyway with a gruff peep.

“Is that what you want?” You question, your heart is already trying to make a run for it out of any orifice that will allow its escape.

“God, no.” He looks at you sincerely, eyes deep and reassuring in their richness. "I always want you."

“Then stop being a dork.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes. “Dork…”

You squeeze his hand and he places his other on top of them both.

“What’d we do now?” He queries and you can still see the weight he carries behind his eyes.

“I have an idea. Can you walk?”

Joel nods as he pulls off the sticky patches from his chest, and the infernal beeping finally stops.

Ashen comes to a halt at your gentle command, and Joel helps you off after dismounting the tan stallion that he rode with you up to the outpost those few months ago.

Since then, settling into a gentle sway of life in the commune had been a constant that you never knew you needed, or missed so much, as you began building a new life with Joel by your side.

But there was a mild fidget in you that couldn’t be settled; a part of you that always remained on alert, and Joel sensed it in you because that same sense lingered in him too.

Life experience had taught you both not to rest so easily, to leave a limb out of the tub and not fully submerge; to leave a backpack stocked with supplies by the door in case you had to go quickly in the night.

Old habits die hard.

But shared with Joel made them easier to accept, to shoulder the weight equally instead of alone. It could be left placed and fuzzy, in the peripherals to fade out for a while, but it was always there.

You both walk a few paces up a short incline, your dress is covered by a coat and scarf, and Joel’s shirt has been rebuttoned with a sweater and a coat of his own thrown over the top.

You feel the heavy weight of the handgun in your pocket, knocking against your thigh. Joel’s own is holstered to his waist under his coat.

The wind is a little harsher in its nip up here, but the view is worth it.

Looking down into the valley, the Wyoming mountains spread out in the distance with their snowy caps like shark's jaws on the landscape; the commune seems like a tiny dot in the centre of the horizon.

“It’s beautiful, no?” You say wistfully, as the wind pulls tendrils from your styled hair that stick to your lips.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Joel says, his arms wrapping around you. You feel him plant a kiss on the side of your cheek and it warms you, from your toes up.

“Look,” you say to him, and you pull him gently with you towards the shelter of a large tree, its branches, almost shed full of its leaves, swaying rhythmically in the breeze.

Under the canopy of the majority of its stripped branches, your fingers place Joel’s onto the rough ridges of the bark, trailing them towards some carvings.

“What's this?” He asks as he studies the letters.

“You made the trellis for me, for us in our garden. Well, this is my wedding gift to you.” You say with a warm smile.

Joel runs his fingers over the letters, a familiar S as he reads the name Sarah carved into the wood. Underneath, another name is carved. Kelper.

“This is what ya did with my “missin'” tools, hmm?” He queries with a cocked brow.

You grin coyly. “If I told you my evil plan, you'd have put the kibosh on it.”

“S’like ya know me so well,” Joel nods. “Ya came out here by yourself?” He frowns.

“I’m a big girl, Joel.” You remind him and he reluctantly nods after gritting his teeth.

He glances up to see ribbons fluttering in the breeze, and reaches up to feel their silkiness between his fingers.

“Ya did this, for me?”

You nod. “This is the highest tree in the valley. I’ve been all over this valley the past few months trying to find the perfect one. I was safe… Sal was with me.” You assure him when you see his nostrils flare.

You turn to look at the names on the tree. “They’re both looking down on us, Joel. From all the way up here. Sarah and Kelper.”

“Darlin’,” he says, as your eyes mist over.

He reaches for your hand and pulls you in close. He looks at the names on the tree, smiling into your hair as he imagines Sarah indeed looking down on him and smiling proudly.

At least, he hopes he’ll be able to make her proud going forward - the past, he’s doubtful about that.

“Ya amaze me every day.” Joel says.

“I just wanted a place that was ours, to remember them. They should both be here today. And this way... it’s like they are.”

Joel nods. “Marry me, here.”

“Right here, now?”

He nods as he strokes your arms. “Yeah… feels perfect. With them.”

You smile at him, wondering how you made it. Wondering how life, despite it's cruelty, had given you this perfect morsel of happiness.

“Have you got the rings?” You ask him.

He fishes into his jeans pocket and opens his palm to reveal two gold bands. Both a little misshapen from years of wear.

“I wonder who they belonged to,” you say, smiling at the metal hoops looking so dainty and small in his gargantuan palm.

“Two people that were very much in love, I reckon.”

“Yeah. They were. Utterly mad for each other.” You agree.

“Probably drivin' each other mad too,” he smirks.

“You like it when I keep you on your toes.” You remind him starkly and with a brewing grin.

“Mm-hm.” He murmurs. “Like a hole in the head.”

You reach into his palm and take the bigger ring and take his opposite hand in yours.

You glance at the tree for a moment, smiling, remembering. Then you look up at Joel. Look at the man who carried you on through this world, even if he wasn’t physically there for most of it.

“Joel,” you begin, letting the words flow freely. “I never thought in my wildest dreams we’d be here. I never thought that all those years of fighting, surviving… enduring. I never thought that they’d lead me back to you. Fate sure is a funny thing, isn’t it?”

“I sure as hell ain’t laughin’.” He says and you smirk.

You place the ring on his thick finger, sliding it all the way down. “I love you.” You say looking at him. “I’ve always loved you. I will always love you, until I die. And even then, I’ll still love you, Joel.”

Blushing, he smiles. Then he takes your hand, the remaining ring poised at the tip of your finger.

“Darlin’... I don’t think there’s anythin’ I could say that would make it feel truly real. Still feels like a dream sometimes. But then I wake up, and ya there beside me. And I don’t know how that happened, not really. It’s somethin’ I just can’t even wrap my head around, y’know?” His voice carries a blend of warmth and sincerity.

“I know.” You smile.

“Two lucky son’s o’ bitches. But you’re real, you’re here. I found ya. God willing, I fuckin’ found ya again. And I promise to cherish ya, darlin’, in all ya strength n’ vulnerability. Your stubbornness-”

You giggle and he smiles, tucking a wisp of wayward hair behind your ear.

“You're my home in this unpredictable world… I love ya, darlin’. Not just for who ya are, but for who we've become together." He gulps, holding back a choke as you watch his eyes glisten.

"Ya make... ya make me a better man. The kind of man I wanna be for ya. M'bound to ya. Ya have me bound to you, forever.”

“Joel,” you say as your own eyes water, and he bends to kiss you, taking your lips in his as the wind whips around you both, and pulls you tight into his warmth. Pulls you deeper into his heart.

I knew he was a good man, Goose.

You glance over Joel’s shoulder to see Kelper standing there leaning against the tree grinning at you.

You smile, nodding gently at your old friend before closing your eyes, tears falling from them like tiny diamonds scattered over Joel's shoulder, and clinging on tighter to him.

Joel inhales the scent of your hair, holding you hard in his arms as the breeze billows around you both and he swears he's never been more elated, more satiated in his bones and flesh.

If he were to die now, he would die happy, and it's a thought that now comforts him, whereas for so long, it's been one that terrified him.

He lets himself bask, lets himself wander further into this pastel dream and stay there, ruminating for a few more moments in the calm bliss of your arms.

Dad.

He’s roused, eyes snapping open as he hears the familiar voice; a voice he had thought he had forgotten, and then a face he was convinced had slipped his mind also is there, smiling at him.

Familiar eyes, that scent of coconut shampoo filling his nose, and frizzy hair that he could never tame in the way she liked when she was smaller, billows in the wind.

Sarah, his daughter, is smiling at him, clear as day, a few feet in front, and he feels it lurch in his chest.

So do you, as you feel his body stiffen under your embrace, and he steps forward, confused to be met with nothing again.

“Did you…?” Joel murmurs out, his voice lost on a confused gasp.

You turn to see what he’s looking at so intently, but there’s nothing there except the whisper of the wind.

“You alright?” You ask, pulling away from him to look at his face, eyes staring a little way down the hill and filling with water that he frantically blinks away.

“Yeah.” Joel turns to you, stunned and speechless for a few moments. The familiar, expected stab in his heart rearing its ugly head fails to ice him over.

Instead, he feels awash with a sincere warmth, from where it emanates, he’s not entirely sure.

“Y’know what? For the first time in a hell of a long time, I really think I am.” He says.

You smile at him as you nuzzle into his neck.

“Jesus…” he mutters as he wraps his arms back around you. “Thought I saw I fuckin’ ghost for a minute there.”

You smile, knowing that he saw what he needed to. The same as you do when you need it.

He rubs at your back. “S’getting a little cold, we should head back soon.”

“Can we stay up here, just a little while longer?” You ask gently, as you both watch the winter sun setting slowly behind the mountains.

“We can do whatever ya want, darlin’.” Joel murmurs, smiling into your shoulder.

By the time you and Joel made it back, the celebrations had moved into the Tipsy Bison as the expected snow started to billow from the sky.

Candles flicker on the tables, creating an intimate atmosphere that contrasts with the harsh wilderness beyond the commune's borders. Handcrafted Christmas decorations and salvaged ornaments add a touch of festivity to the surroundings, creating a unique blend of the old and the new world.

As the night unfolds, Joel and you move through the crowd, your smiles radiant with the joy of your unity as everyone wants a piece of you both.

The celebrations carry on with a mixture of traditional and improvised festivities - a dance floor, a communal song led by Max and a beaten guitar, with a surprisingly melodic voice which awes you at his secret talent. Guthrie dances with you, twirling you around as you smile and clap.

The large Christmas tree in the corner twinkles with gold, glittery lights that reflect in your eyes as Joel looks into them as he sways gently with you.

Impromptu speeches that celebrate love, survival, and the strength of the human bond follow with laughter, and Tommy leads a toast to the both of you with minimal embarrassment for Joel, much to his relief.

But despite the laughter, the warmth, you catch Joel’s face a little later, and the familiar need for a moment of respite creeps over his features as the frown tugs further at his smile somewhat as the night moves on.

His smile hides years of pain underneath it, convincing you he's fine when you ask him. Some days, he believes it himself.

But he doesn't want to spoil this for you, drag you away, but he also wants to have you to himself; be selfish and attenuate that need that flourishes hot in his veins.

He searches you out as you’re engaging with Sal, Max and Guthrie, and catches your eye, quelling everything loud around him.

In the middle of the chaos, there’s you.

You know him too well, even after three decades of separation, you can still read him without words, and you decide too, that you’ve had enough of smiles and wine.

You both slip out, leaving your expanded family and friends to celebrate as late as they want without you both.

In the secluded corners of your home, away from the festivities, you and Joel allow the weight of your tumultuous journey to fall free from your shoulders and leave it outside.

The echoes of the after-party seem distant, drowned out by the heavy thrumming of your heart in your ears.

Once inside the warmth of your shared home, the safety and privacy of the walls Joel had built once upon a time with his bare hands, those hands of his take to your waist and pull you towards him as he attaches himself to your lips.

He dips and slants, moaning softly against your mouth; pulling your head closer to his with a giant, swamping hand, slipping his other around you and drawing you closer against his taught body that always has a slight tremble to it.

Behind him, the lock on the door clicks shut as you reach for it. Your heart rate speeds up as you melt into him, skin melding together like melted candle wax.

You and Joel are very alone and very close, pushed up tight against one another; bodies reacting and heating up. His broad chest crushes into your own as you feel the increase in his heartbeat against your own rib cage.

You run your hand down his chest towards his groin, searching out that thick hardness you can already feel pressing against you.

Then, you feel him lifting you; arms swooping under you and pulling your feet off the floor.

“Joel!” You squeal as he heaves and steps forward.

"It’s tradition.” He says, stepping forward quickly towards the bedroom.

"Your back!" You wail, giggling.

You cling on around his neck, and he clumsily falls with you onto the bed laughing.

Your hands find his face as he lays on top of you, staring intently into his deep brown eyes.

“What?” He questions as you trace his lips with your fingers, watching as he kisses the tips of them.

“You’re so fucking strong. Do I ever tell you that?” You say with awe.

“Sometimes… not nearly enough.” He chuckles.

“Lay back, old man.” You say, winking at him.

“Oi, less of the old.” He says as you shuffle out from underneath him.

“It’s hot.” You say.

He watches you crawl over him. “Ya wanna be in charge do ya, darlin’?”

“Mm, is your back gonna let you lead?”

He scoffs, and then nods in defeat, retreating hastily backwards on the bed as you straddle him.

“Didn’t think so…” You smile, as you kiss him.

He slips his tongue inside your mouth, the remnants of a few whiskeys in celebration lace his gums.

His hands slide down your waist to cup your ass, squeezing it; pressing you against his crotch as you kiss him deeply, leaning over him. He breaks off, burying his face in the soft column of your throat that feels clammy already with anticipation.

He licks the salt of it, scraping his teeth against the soft perfumed flesh there, licking and nipping, sucking it between his lips hungrily.

"Ya too good to me, darlin’."

You keep your eyes on his face, noticing the way the tip of his tongue teases the middle of his upper lip as he looks hungrily at you. How his Adam's apple bobs with each thick swallow in anticipation.

How those deep, trusting eyes lance at you as you unbutton his shirt.

Joel watches as you trail wet, lingering kisses over his skin; skin mottled with freckles and silvery hairs, a liver spot here or there.

How you kiss and lick each scar delicately that he bears; the one on his hip from where he was shot at on outbreak day. The one where he was gutted trying to save Ellie from raiders.

He shivers as you explore every weak spot he’s ever had, birthing new life into the dead skin.

Watches keenly as you run your tongue around his nipples, sucking over them gently as he hisses in response. Shudders as you kiss down the centre towards his navel, swollen with age around his tummy that you lavish more affection and desire all over, running your cheeks against it.

Joel hitches his breath as you unbuckle his belt and free him from his jeans.

He’ll never get tired of watching you do that, of taking his throbbing, thick cock so slowly and hungrily into your mouth; hearing you whine in satisfaction as you taste him again.

Feeling how it tingles down to the root of him as he slides down your throat and packs you out until you can’t breathe.

He’s moaning like a dying man as you suck him with eyes that meet his with unspoken praise and worship.

He reaches down, weaving through your hair, letting it fall free of the pins that held it precariously in place all day. Combs through it as you lick up the length of him and suckle on the head of his cock, feeling it throughout your own body, the heat travelling in the streams of your arteries.

“Take this off,” he says tugging at the hem of your dress, and you’re soon naked on top of him, bodies growing warm and slick together as you kiss deeply and grind subtly against one another.

“Too long since I was inside ya.” He laments into your ear in a hot whisper.

“It’s only been a couple of days, Joel.” You smirk.

“Too fuckin’ long.” He corrupts.

He runs his thumb over your stiff nipple and cups your breast gently inside his warm palm. "Ya so beautiful, darlin'." He breathes.

He reaches down between your legs and slides his finger against your clit, watching as you jolt with the gentlest of brushes.

“So sensitive, aren’t ya?” He cajoles.

“Mmm,” you nod, hands on his chest as he slips in; finger stroking inside your wet folds.

He pulls out and slips another one in, marvelling at how you arch and mewl above him as he pumps slowly.

You wind you hips, pushing against his fingers as he fucks you keenly with them. Pressing deep against the right spots and stroking you closer with each curl of them.

“Look at you, so fuckin’ beautful.” He groans. "All for me, all mine."

“Joel, I’m gonna come,” you moan, fingers gripping into his chest meat as you feel yourself bunching tight already.

Grabbing his cock, he guides his engorged head between your puffy, wet pussy lips in place of his fingers.

“If ya gonna come, ya come on my cock, darlin’.” He pushes in gently, thick head notching into you slowly, letting you suck him in. Sliding slowly and purposefully so you can feel all of him.

Savouring, appreciating, falling further with you.

“Joel!” You gasp, the pinch of him still present as he enters; a sensation that’ll never falter.

He reaches up, mouth grazing over your breast, nipple between his teeth and gently sucks as you slide down the full length of him, taking him in deep, where he belongs.

Joel belongs inside of you.

He pulls you up, large hands crossed around your lower back as he lifts you up and down on his cock, sliding almost the full way out, leaving just the head precariously lipped inside you, until he brings you back down onto the full hilt of him, bottoming out each time he does it.

He grunts with you; warm breaths pelted into your skin like ink blots where they spread, staining you with him.

He begins slow, measured thrusts up into you; you push back, grinding with him, the tightness of your hole now slickly wonderful around his thick cock. He draws out a few inches at a time before pushing in deep, to the sound of plentiful, needy whines from you.

“Fuck, ya feel so good around me, darlin’,” he groans into your chest.

Laying back, giant hands caressing your breasts, he lets you work, lets you take control. Watches keenly, as you ride him deeply, with a heated fever as the sweat starts to slick down your back.

His hips push up to meet you when he senses you’re losing it, losing your control as your gasps pitch higher, becoming more frantic in their raspiness as your cunt tightens around him.

“Joel!” You gasp like you’re sobbing; the cadence stripped from your throat as he grunts in agreement with you at how good it feels, how good it feels to have you on the end of his cock soaking him with all the pleasure that he feeds you.

And it’s something he’ll never tire of. He’ll never want to stop giving you this, giving you all of him.

“There ya go, darlin’...” He ushers. "Ya close, ain't ya?"

“Mmm, yeah…” You can feel it, that glitter starter to gather under your eyelids, the bones in your spine pulling tight and ready to crack open the moment that hot bolt travels down it and into your core.

He winds you tighter around that spool, the slack almost unbearable. Your toes curl inwards, your thighs shake and your whole body tenses up.

"Come for me!" Joel growls, encouragingly.

Over and over he fucks into you, his fingers digging into your hips where they’ll leave bruises that he’ll kiss later.

Your voice is shaking as you stutter incoherently, a babbling mantra of his name. “Joel, Joel, Joel…”

“Ya keep sayin’ my name. This cock s'makin’ ya feel really good, hmm?” He grunts into your face.

“So good, Joel… Oh my God, don’t stop!”

“Are ya gonna come for me? Ya gonna come all over my cock, darlin’?”

“Yeah… I’m coming. I’m coming, Joel! Fuck!”

A warm, desperate shudder pours out of you at his command; your entire body convulses, fingers gnarl around his skin. You cry out, your lungs disintegrate into mottled dust as it leaves you; punching that glitter out of your back once more into the air for you to breathe in and choke on the metallic fragments.

“That’s it. Give it to me… All over me. Like that. Don't stop comin’."

His lips chase yours, brushing sweetly against them with a peck and smooch to remind you he’s still there; your tether, no matter how high you fly above him.

You clutch onto his shoulders, nails digging into the tanned skin as he pushes you back down on his cock, filling you up again. The constant symphony of his pants fill your ears, that subtle weakness in them; that tremor at the back of his throat as he draws closer to his finish.

“That, right there… fuck,” he grunts.

“That feel good?” You groan as your hips swivel intently.

“Yeah… s’way ya look at me like this.” He moans.

“How do I look at you, Joel?” You breathe.

“Like ya love me.” His voice cracks at the sound of it in the air. The realisation, the acceptance, The finality of his being.

“I do love you. I love you so fucking much.” You gasp.

“I love ya too, darlin’. Fuck, do I love you! Shit!” He strains, his muscles pulling tight, the tension in his jaw locking.

“Come for me, fill your wife up, Joel.” You urge.

"Fuck!"

He yanks you towards him, face tumbling into him as he catches you in a kiss as he whines against your lips as he comes deep inside you. Soft whines flow from his plush mouth into yours as he twitches and empties.

His thrusts gently still to an eventual stop, feeling the warmth of his spend flooding around his cock inside you.

He kisses you intently and for what feels like a lifetime, just connected to him; breathing him in down into your respiratory system where he'll always stay.

You stroke away the sweaty, grey curls from the sides of his face and temples, and he smiles at you; a smile he saves only for you, with glittery eyes.

You glance at the clock on the bedside table reading just after midnight, and smile excitedly at him.

“You know what day it is today, right?” You query with a grin, resting your chin on your hands as you lay across his chest, still connected with him inside you.

“Right now, I don’t even know my damned name.” Joel breathes with a heavy chortle.

You feel him slip out as he laughs, the wet warmth of him dripping out of you. “Jesus, ya kill me.”

“It’s Christmas Day.” You whisper to him, and he runs his thumb against your lower lip, watching as you kiss it gently.

“Well then, Merry Christmas, Mrs Miller.” He smirks, crushing you further into his chest.

You beam back at him, finally understanding your place in the world.

Finally understanding why you endured and survived as you take his hand in yours, the glint of your mutual wedding rings reflecting in the dim glow from the string lights outside the window.

You know it was to get to this exact moment, right here, where you're in Joel’s arms again, and nothing can get you anymore. Nothing.

Smiling, you lean up to your husband’s face and kiss him gently on the lips.

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

The End

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Thank you for taking the time to read my story; it really means so much to me. I'd love to know your thoughts, and I'd really appreciate a re-blog so others can enjoy this story too. Thank you so much 🖤

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Tagging everyone who was tagged in the original series.

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#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller #pedro pascal characters #joel miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #christmas stories #five days series #jett's writing

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wonwooslibrary · 7 months

Text

svt as boyfriends ♡ jeonghan edition

member: yoon jeonghan genre: fluff, bullet points, established relationship word count: 668 summary: jeonghan's boyfriend things <3 warnings: none! author's note: i totally forgot to write this oops but heeeey it's done and it's jeonghan's turn! school has been a lot so i'm sorry that I haven't been posting as much </3 I'm trying to write more in my free time so we'll see :O

I feel like Jeonghan would be the “silent boyfriend”

Jeonghan gives the perfect college boyfriend vibes and I love that for him idk

Quality Time

Jeonghan slays so hard at quality time

As I said, Jeonghan gives college bf vibes and it’s totally because of his love of quality time!

When you are doing work, he’d totally agree to sit with you somewhere on campus or in a local cafe to study with you and help you memorize terms for your next exam!

If you don’t go to school, he’d totally help you with your work projects too!!!

If you don’t have work projects either, he’d just be there for you if you are having a rough day, just as someone to lean on and to listen to you talk <3

He’s so caring I love him

He would also definitely love to go on night walks with you when it’s late! He would totally find a spot where y’all can see the stars and take you there so you can stargaze and share some snacks

Words of Affirmation

Jeonghan is totally a “sweetie” or “baby” kind of guy and you cannot change my mind about it at all

I can imagine Jeonghan coming home from a long practice or something and finding you in the living room. He’d sit next to you on the couch and lean against you and be all like, “Hi baby, how was your day?”

(I’d actually scream pls)

He would always say sweet things to you like “I missed you, baby” or “I love spending time with you” aaaaaa

Jeonghan is a compliment machine so never think he would keep his thoughts to himself

“Sweetie, I love the outfit you wore the other day! It looked perfect on you”

(sobbing)

Physical Touch

Jeonghan obsessed with little or light touches

Loves holding hands when you’re waiting in line for something, or resting his hand on your knee when you’re sitting together on public transport

And of course don’t forget about the back hugs when you’re doing something like dishes, brushing your teeth or literally just standing and texting your friend back

Head pats !!! Loves just patting your head and combing through your hair slightly

Y’all would be the couple that I strive to be a part of in my dreams

Just imagine Jeonghan being a cuddly bf :(

Acts of Service

Helping you brush and do your hair!!! He definitely knows how to braid so imagine all the cool stuff he could do

And if you have short hair, don’t fear: he’s got the butterfly clips all prepared just to be silly

Definitely helps you with chores when you are busy or need to just take a break from existing

Likes driving you places, even if you are a better driver and also enjoy driving

He just likes making sure you get places safely and also don’t have to stress yourself out from how bad the traffic can be

He also just likes letting you be in control of his radio

Gift Giving

He would totally go to your favorite cafe or bakery in the morning and get your favorite treat and bring it back while you’re still sleeping so when you wake up, you get something amazing from him !!!

Spoils you all the time but instead of it being jewelry or something expensive, he just gets you small trinkets

Totally buys you pins for your bag when he goes literally anywhere

Also loves to get you little decorations for your place: including stuffed animals, one being an extremely soft lamb that you decided to name Mareep, like the Pokemon

Now, for something like holidays and your birthday, he would get something more sentimental, like matching bracelets or something!!!

He would want to get something for the both of you that he can still wear during practice, photoshoots and when he’s filming literally anything

Even if the audience doesn’t know what it symbolizes, he would know and that's very soft boyfriend of him <3

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actuallysaiyan · 5 months

Text

Kiss you once and then some more And wish you a Merry Christmas baby(Boss!Kento Nanami x Fem!Secretary!Reader)

warnings: smut, mentions of drinking, lots of Christmas imagery, office party setting, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, nipple play, power dynamics, boss x secretary, creampie finish word count: 2.6k pairings: Boss!Kento Nanami x Fem!Secretary!Reader summary: the holidays are coming up, and all you can wish for is to be able to steal a little kiss from your boss while under the mistletoe. when you volunteer to help out with the annual Christmas party, you realize your boss never got the chance to decorate his office. just a little mistletoe won't hurt, will it? a/n: This is an early Christmas gift for all of us simping so hard for Kento Nanami and wish we could find him under the tree on Christmas morning. Special thanks to @beneathstarryskies who has been fuelling my love for Kento even before I started watching JJK

It was always crazy to you how fast the office changed after Halloween. Down came the pumpkins and paper craft decorations of witches on broomsticks and sheet-wearing ghosts. And with them, people started decorating for Christmas fairly early on in November. People who were bored out of their minds would spend their time cutting up paper to resemble snowflakes, others would buy very fancy yet tacky decorations to dress up their desks. You weren’t above them, most certainly not. Your own desk was properly decorated for the season. You even laid out a bowl of candy canes and chocolate for those who stopped by your desk before going into work or just leaving for the day.

The one person you truly wished would grace your presence was your boss, Nanami Kento. He was a very busy man, so he often didn’t have the time to stop and chat. With him being so busy all the time, and especially more so around this time of year, you were always eager to help him out with anything he needed. Kento regularly looked to you for the help he needed, but your relationship never went anywhere further than a professional one. Nobody would ever find out how much you were pining for him. Not even he knew your true feelings for him, or so you thought.

And as the days ticked on and November became December, you found yourself giddy for the holidays. It was always a hustle and bustle and things were tense in the office days leading up to Christmas Eve, but it was exciting for you. You balanced your time between Christmas shopping and working hard to make sure the big project for the office was going off without a hitch. Despite everyone else wigging out with stress, you were the glue to keep everything together. You were the first person to bring someone a steaming mug of coffee or tea when they desperately needed it. You were the one who kept all the files neat and tidy, ready for whoever needed them. And you were always the one who brought a little extra food for those who were staying late most nights.

A Christmas staff party is announced, and you’re the first one to sign up to make sure the thing goes well. You’re in charge of bringing food and drinks. Your heart flutters with joy when you see your boss’ name written on the RSVP list. He was going to finally get a chance to relax and mingle with the rest of you. You wonder if maybe you could manage to get him to give you a little kiss under the mistletoe. With thoughts of a possible office romance blossoming, you spend the next few days plotting and planning.

The afternoon of the Christmas party, everyone gets to go home early. You managed to pack a bag of things for yourself considering you decided to get ready here since you were in charge of preparing and catering the food and drinks. With most of the appetizers and drinks premade the night before, all you had to do was find a table suitable to hold everything. With that taken care of, you made your way to the women’s locker room. The water pressure isn’t nearly as good as the one in your apartment, but you know you need to take a shower.

With yourself clean, you begin getting dressed and fussing over your hair and makeup. As you’re getting pampered and pretty for your boss, you call one of the local pizza places nearby and place a large delivery order. Everything was coming together perfectly. You hoped that Kento would see just how hard you’ve been working on not only this but everything else leading up to this day.

It’s just past 7 pm when the first few people start arriving. Some of those who volunteered to set up games and other activities are the early ones. Then as the hour ticks by, you notice that the party is almost in full swing. Still, no sign of Kento anywhere. You figured he would probably be showing up anytime soon. Yet as everyone is full tilt into party mode, you find yourself longing to see your boss.

You have a drink, mingling with your colleagues by the punchbowl. Your eyes keep darting all around the room, but to no avail. He’s not here, and as it gets a little later, you worry maybe he was just too tired to join the festivities. You decide to take a little walk around the office, hoping to spot him as he’s coming in.

After a quick trip to the bathroom to freshen yourself up and touch up your makeup, you pass by Kento’s office. It’s so dark and lonely in here. You realize he hasn’t even put up any decorations. It makes you a little sad to see this. So you go to your desk and fish out a mistletoe decoration. Once you’re back in Kento’s office, you begin trying to affix the cute little decoration to the ceiling.

“And just what are you doing?” a deep voice calls from the doorway. Your heart nearly stops.

“Oh! Nanami-san! I’m just trying to spread a little holiday cheer.”

He smirks at you, and his eyes follow your gaze to the ceiling. The little mistletoe hangs just above you, almost as an invitation for him to come press his lips against yours. You jump a little as the sound of the door closing startles you. Kento moves closer to you, a smile on his face.

“Please, just call me Kento. No need for formalities here.”

Your cheeks redden at his words. But you nod and smile, asking him how he’s enjoying the party. You notice a flute of champagne in his hand. So he is trying to mingle and enjoy himself. He takes a sip of the effervescent drink.

“This was exactly what I needed. I’ve been too focused on my work lately.”

You smile sweetly, “I’m glad you can take the chance to relax. You really deserve it, Kento.”

He loves the sound of your voice. Especially when you’re saying such sweet things to him. He downs the rest of the champagne, and then he approaches you. Without warning, he reaches up to help you pin the mistletoe to the ceiling. Your cheeks burn at being so close in proximity. He smirks at your reaction, then he cups your cheek softly.

“Does this mean I can steal a kiss?”

Your heart stops for a moment, only to begin racing. You can barely think of the right words. A soft “yes” falls from your lips before he presses his lips to yours. The entirety of his being is invading all your senses. He smells like fancy cologne, and his lips are so soft and plush and his broad frame feels so good against your smaller body.

When he pulls away, you’re breathless. He chuckles softly before he leans back in for a second kiss. This one is hungrier, and your brain finally catches up to what you’re doing. You press yourself against him even more, your lips moving in tandem with his. His large hands glide up and down your sides, admiring the velvet dress you decided to wear.

“Did you get all dolled up just for me?” he asks, his lips now nipping and kissing the tender flesh of your neck.

You breathe out, “yes…just for you.”

He knows you’ve been pining for him for so long. If he said he hadn’t found you so fuckable the moment he met you, he would be lying. How often he had to hide himself in his office just to push back lewd thoughts almost every day. Kento was basically obsessed with you, but he didn’t want to ruin your professional career by pushing things further. Tonight was the exception. When he saw just how much work you put into this party and your appearance, he knew he had to make his move.

His hands slide up your sides to your breasts. He cups them, squeezing slightly. This earns him a soft mewl from you, and it makes his cock twitch in his expensive dress pants. Kento had also made quite the effort to make sure his appearance was perfect just for you.

“That’s my good girl,” he murmurs against your skin.

You gasp when he pulls the top of your dress down, revealing your bare breasts to him. He doesn’t even really give you time to react before he’s dipping his head down to capture one of your perky nipples into his mouth. You’re melting under his touches, and your knees are buckling from the ministrations.

You look down at him, your hands shaking as you reach out to cup his head. This keeps him affixed to your tits. Your fingers card through his beautiful blond hair, then your nails rake against his scalp. He shudders at the sensation before he turns his attention to your other nipple.

“I won’t lie.,” he says as he suckles on the bud. “I’ve been thinking about this moment for months.”

You feel your cheeks turning crimson, “Nanami-san! T-that’s so filthy.”

You feel him spanking your thigh, a lewd but dark look in his eyes as he looks up at you. You know you must have pushed some buttons just now. He looks even more determined than before.

“Didn’t I tell you to call me Kento?”

You stammer out a few excuses, but he just shuts you up with another searing kiss. As he kisses you hard, his hands begin to peel off that cute little dress you put on just to impress him. He tosses it behind him, then pulls you closer to him. Your soft skin smells of peppermint and vanilla; a decadent mixture to delight his senses. He groans as his fingers tease your clothed cunt, finding you so wet already.

“I think you’ve been fantasizing about this just as much as I have been.”

His words make you blush even more than before, but you can’t help but agree with what he’s saying. It was true, you both had been thinking about this moment for a long time. And now that it was finally happening, you could barely calm your little racing heart.

“So wet just for me…” he mentions as he lets his fingers push back your panties.

Your eyes screw shut in pleasure, and you let out a shaky breath as Kento expertly rubs your swollen clit. You knew he’d be good at this, but you never thought he’d know the perfect ways to get you off. Then his fingers slide down further, prodding your tight little hole. He smirks as he feels just how much you’re dripping for him. There’s hardly resistance as he slips two of his fingers into you, his thumb rubbing your nub.

“Such a dirty little secretary you are. I bet you want me to bend you over this desk and take my frustrations out on you, don’t you?” He asks as he presses his face into the crook of your neck. His breath is so hot against your skin, and his teeth graze your pulse point.

You can’t even answer him properly. Your mind is just buzzing from all the lustful heavy petting that’s going on. He loves the way he’s rendered you into a moaning mess already and he hasn’t even fucked you. Despite knowing he should be getting you ready for his cock, he knows you both don’t have all the time in the world. Eventually someone will come looking for either of you.

With both of his hands, he pushes you against the desk. You squeal as he rips your panties off and shoves them into your open mouth. The taste of your own arousal makes you clench around nothing.

“Just be a good girl and be quiet. I promise, I’ll make you cum.”

You don’t need any more convincing than that. He spreads your thighs with his knee, and you begin to hear the sounds of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping those fancy dress pants. You attempt to turn around to see how big his cock is, but Kento is quick to push your head down against his desk.

There’s the unmistakable sound of him spitting onto your cunt as he spreads your asscheeks. Then you feel the tip of his cock prodding your tiny hole. You know already that this will be quite the stretch. Kento groans as he slides into you slowly, savoring the way your cunt is already trying to milk him for everything he’s got.

The moment he bottoms out, it’s like something snaps deep inside of him. He begins pumping into you at a breakneck speed, his hands tangling in your cute little updo. Animalistic grunts and growls rumble from his chest as he lets out his frustrations on you. Meanwhile you desperately white-knuckle the desk beneath you as the tip of his cock bullies that spongy spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. Already you’re so close to your own peak and he’s barely been fucking you for a few minutes.

He leans in to press a kiss to your shoulder, pushing his cock deeper into you. You’ve never had anyone quite this deep inside of you before and you can feel your legs about to give out.

“I wanna take my time with you, pretty baby. But we’ve gotta make this quick.”

You moan in response, your cunt gripping onto him even tighter. He grunts as he begins slamming into you faster and harder. The desk beneath you begins to creak and slide against the floor, making it obvious to anyone around what you two are up to. But anyone would be an idiot to even dare try to interrupt you two. You’re in heaven and you never want it to stop.

Your eyes snap shut as you feel his fingers rubbing your aching clit. Just a few more thrusts and you’re falling off the edge. Muffled whimpers and mewls fall from your panty-stuffed lips. Your thighs are shaking as you begin creaming all over that fat cock of his. He tugs on your hair, pulling you flush against his chest as he continues to fuck himself deep inside you.

He growls as his own orgasm hits him hard. Shot after shot of thick, sticky cum paints your insides. You whine as you feel his cock throbbing with every pump of cum he shoots inside of you. Eventually, he slows his pace to a stop and you’re both panting. You spit out the panties onto his desk, and Kento pulls out of you. He turns you around so you’re facing him, and he’s got the most smug look on his face you’ve ever seen.

“Guess this means you’re all mine, hm?” He asks, two of his fingers pushing his cum back into you.

You whimper, “O-of course, N– Kento…”

He smirks at your response. Kento reaches for the soiled panties and he helps you slide them back onto you. With a soft kiss, he helps you back into your dress as well. The moment you try to stand, you feel just how shaky you are. Kento chuckles softly, stuffing his softening cock into his dress pants.

“Don’t worry,” he murmurs as he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head. “You can lean on me for a bit.”

He takes your hand in his, and while you lean against him, he leads you back out into the party. Almost nobody seems to think anything weird about this, they are all just happy to see the both of you at the party. You two share a few drinks and mingle and as the party begins winding down, Kento leans in to whisper in your ear.

“Merry Christmas, pretty baby…”

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its-time-to-write · 9 months

Note

hello i have a request for an idea i literally cannot get out of my head: jamie and a partner who is really into knitting/crocheting and they knit him something as a gift and the fluffiness that ensues xxx

this was a v cute ask!! Here you go!

glitter on the floor

Knitting is a luxury, something you only do when you have a good chunk of time set aside. You’ll pull out a project while watching a movie and each time without fail, Jamie Tartt will give you puppy dog eyes and ask, “Is that for me?”

It never is.

That’s because you’ve been working on something for him for Christmas, and you’re pretty sure it’s your best work yet.

You and Jamie are planning on having a tiny Christmas celebration, just the two of you, before he’s off to Manchester and you’re on a plane to your parents. You’re going to put on matching pajamas and sit by the Christmas tree and eat a shit-ton of snacks, because you’re both adults who can do what you want, and what you want to do is gorge yourselves on everything you definitely shouldn’t have.

So here you are, a week before Christmas, all cozy at home exchanging gifts and giggling about what comes after presents, which may may not be a variation of sexy Christmas that you stole from Keeley.

“Open this one next,” you say, handing Jamie a particularly interesting package.

You’re grinning, but there’s something sinister in your eyes. Jamie’s not sure what to make of it because it’s Christmas, or at least it almost is, so why are you looking at him like a cat that just ate the family goldfish?

He hesitantly takes the proffered package, perfectly wrapped in forest green with a bright white bow. He unwraps it carefully, sets the ribbon aside, and opens a box to reveal-

A sweater.

He exhales a little. Oh good, it’s just a sweater. But your eyes are still gleaming so he’s sure there’s more to it, especially because you’re practically vibrating from the effort of keeping yourself from laughing.

Jamie pulls the sweater from the box and it unfolds, revealing the fact that it is a couple sizes too large for him. But you’ve obviously made it so he’s going to like it anyway.

“Turn it around,” you say before he can give you his appreciation. Jamie complies, to reveal words stitched to the front in flowing script.

this is our Get Along sweater

“Ask me what it’s for,” you command gleefully and Jamie’s pretty sure he’s never seen you this silly, so he bites.

“Alright, what the fuck is this for?” he asks, matching your grin.

You have to bite back a laugh. “Ok so remember how we talked about you being an only child? But I had siblings and our parents had to figure out creative ways to discipline us? One of the ways was a ‘get-along’ shirt. The two of us who were fighting had to wear the same shirt until we got over it. Sometimes it took like three or four hours. And one time, my mom managed to get three of us in one. It was hilarious.”

“Sounds like,” says Jamie. “Doubt you were in it very often. So is this for you and me, then?”

You sniff. “As if. Putting on clothes never solves our arguments. It’s for you and Roy.”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Jamie’s saying, “Fucking hell,” and you’re in stitches.

“I already told Ted about it,” you manage to gasp out. “I’m really only showing it to you right now, because I’m dropping it off at Nelson Road as soon as the holiday is over.”

“Christ,” is all Jamie can come up with. His only consolation is that he can’t imagine how Ted could force him and Roy into this sweater. He might be more susceptible to caving, but Roy? No way.

(In this moment, Jamie overlooks Roy’s fondness for you, as well as Ted’s extreme stubbornness when it comes to enforcing new policies he just made up.)

Ted sends you a photo of the sweater in action a week after they return.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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homesweetgoodneighbor · 6 months

Text

As the holidays speed towards us like a bullet train, here are more ways to support/survive the fiber artist in your life. (You might as well print and save these, because we fiber artists will never learn our lesson.):

DO:

Make them stop each day before they hurt themselves. @gootspatrol made mention of this in a comment and I added it to a reblog, but I want to say it again because it is fucking IMPORTANT. All fiber arts are pretty much repetitive stress injuries waiting to happen. People think our crafts are easy peasy and have no clue that even "easy" things can also injure a body if done too much for too long. Do not work through the pain, folks. It absolutely will come back to haunt you.

Tell them to step back and work on another project if they are getting frustrated with the one they are currently working. I promise you we ALL have multiple projects going. Sometimes a project is just being fucking argumentative, and the situation devolves into such cussing and threats that anyone overhearing will be sure you live with a serial killer. Putting it down and doing another for a while, or at least until that one also becomes the bane of our existence, always helps.

Remind them their bladder exists and isn't meant to be ignored. Yes, I know that sounds silly, but many fiber artists already have ADHD, and we are notorious for ignoring bodily processes. Forgettingto eat is one thing, but much as we'd love to, we can't will our bladders to go away.

From time to time gush at how amazing their project is looking. Your fiber artist will always invariably say "It sucks sweaty donkey balls. I want to set fire to it, but I spent too much damn money on it." Ignore that. They say that because none of us can take compliments. Inside we are squeeing that you noticed. (Note: Be genuine or say nothing at all. We can sense false praise faster than a cat can hear the canned food being opened.)

Be a buffer towards those who do not understand. Tell those who dismiss your loved one's work as anything other than "hard work filled with love" to fuck all the way off. Do feel free to be creative when doing so. You will immediately be a super hero and probably prevent that other person from having their brains ripped out through their nostril by a crochet hook.

DON'T:

Laugh when we say "Next year I will start earlier/make less/buy gift cards instead." Yes, we know we are just kidding ourselves and living in denial. It's a design flaw in a fiber artist's nature. Just hug us and move on.

Have a calendar counting down the days to the holiday they are working towards. Do not even mention time. Doing so will send them spiraling into an almost barbaric berserker frenzy. They will become the whirling dervish of the cartoon Tasmanian devil with fiber and notions being flung about. There is high probability you will be sucked into it and put to work. Unless you feel up to being conscripted into detangling a ramen noodle pile of yarn, sorting thread, or being used as a dress form dummy every ten minutes, just keep your mouth shut.

Play the "Let's mess up their counting by nonchalantly telling a story of our ancestor in 1583 who had 5 goats and worked 50 hours a week and made 100 clocks that told 20 different times..." Look, fiber artists are willing to do something that is so repetitive as to be injurous. Do you think a few more of such actions to turn you into a tasteful decoration will discourage them? Remember: we work with fiber, and a noose is nothing but a bunch of fibers twisted together and tied into a neat knot. Don't fuck with us.

Love y'all! Please take care of yourselves! Be safe and I hope to see lots of pics of finished projects!

#fiber arts #fiber crafts #crochet #knitting #embroidery #sewing #hand sewing #weaving

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ashensgrotto · 5 months

Text

Never Had A Friend (Like Me) - Part 3

Original art piece by pfbatakopd on twitter (Used only for Header. Do NOT REPOST ORIGINAL ART)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (You Are Here)

YandereSoulmate! AU:

Part 1 (Am I Feeling Love?)

Part 2 (Protective)

Part 3A & Part 3B (Poor Unfortunate Souls)

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto X F!Reader

Word Count: 9,105

Synopsis: A chance for redemption comes in the form of a wish…

Author’s Notes: Ok, here we go. I received an anonymous message in my inbox for the next part of the Yandere!Soulmate series and I was actually going to work on it - but with the arrival of GloMas, working on the next part of ‘Raison D’être,’ wanting to finish “Weren’t You Aware, Angelfish?”, AND the holidays, time got away from me and I forgot about Scarabia’s segment for a short while.

However, because you all seem to enjoy this and want to know if the tako has redeemed himself - I figured I would work to get this part done. Now, warning - Pompefiore’s part is going to take a bit of time to complete because I will have to wiggle my way through my memory bank and replay a few parts of it (which is approx 76 chapters in length for those players who haven’t made it that far into the game yet) since I’m working so deep into Ignihyde’s chapter right now (which is a doozy - I’m still in chapter 67-tower 1, oof help).

This one is also going to be split into three parts - I promise it will not be a long wait for the second & third parts as this is my Christmas gift to all of my readers <3

Thank you all for your continued support!

Notes: Last part of 'A Friend like Me'!

Pompfiore's part will take some time to go through - I'm likely going to be busy up until the second or third week of January, hence I will be taking a short Hiatus from Yandere!Soulmate AU to focus on a few other projects. I will also be updating Raison D’être in the next few weeks after the holidays have passed.

Thank you everyone for your continued support and I will see you in the next story!

Warnings are as follows: yandere behaviors, manipulation, imprisonment, & hypnosis

***

Can your friends do this? Can your friends do that?

Can your friends pull this out their little hats?

Can your friends go - POOF!

***

Azul shook his head as he pulled himself up off the ground after landing, brushing himself off. He took in his surroundings, noticing that he still seemed to be within the Scarabia dorm, but unsure of where. Sands still surrounded him from all angles - making him feel more like a mer out of water than anything else - and a noticeable chill hung in the air, cold enough to make out the fiat traces of one’s breath as it hung in the air. Azl’s eyes shifted around as his mind began to refocus. Where was he? And… where were you?

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)!” he spun around before hearing your grunt as you pulled yourself up from under a pile of sand and fur.

“Owww…” Grim clutched at his head, his eyes screwed shut as he moaned softly, “I really can’t catch a break around here…”

“I feel that…” you sigh, sitting back on your knees, gripping your lower back as you wince in pain.

“(Y/n)! Are you alright?!” Azul moved quickly, his breath coming out in pants as he knelt beside you, his gloved hands tilting your head up to examine you.

You were covered in sand and were shivering from the cold, your teeth chattering as you took in deep breaths. Your face had a cut on the forehead and your eyes seemed a little hazy, dazed from the landing. You steadied yourself against Azul’s hold, the warmth of his gloves warming your cheeks.

“I’m alive… barely. It felt like he knocked us into next week and then some.”

“It would appear that he flung us some distance. Are you two alright?”

“Fine - given that we were knocked to the ends of the earth,” you answer as Azul pulls you up with Grim in your arms, “Where’s Jade? Floyd? Kalim?”

“Over here, shrimpy!” the tuba voice of Floyd spoke a little ways away as he approached, his arms wrapped around himself, “Brr! It’s seriously cold here. It’s like we’re under the ice floes or somethin’.”

You feel a shudder rattle through you as Azul wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close to keep you semi-warm under the covering of his overcoat. The temperature here was noticeably different from when you were in the Scarabia dorm - it would seem that at the edge of the desert dorm was freezing like the inside of an icebox.

Jade was crouched beside Kalim, the ex-headwarden of Scarabia, rubbing his forehead as the others approached, “Where am I?”

“Good, you’re awake,” Jade sighed in relief, “I believe we are at the edge of the dimension that contains the Scarbia dorm.”

“So… Jamil literally did send us to the ends of the earth,” Grim chirped in surprise, before glowering, “When we get back there, I’m going ta let ‘im have it-”

“How, though?” you asked, “We don’t have any carpets, or brooms.”

“And with this cold, I doubt Kalim and (Y/n) will last long out here,” Azul nodded in agreement.

“It’ll be a slog,” Floyd shrugged, “but walkin’s our only way back.”

“Floyd,” Azul growled, “we spent quite a bit of time in flight before we landed here. It could take hours - wait, more likely days at this rate - to trudge back on foot. And… I can’t take another minute of you with that voice. I’m tearing up the contract and annulling it.”

“O-oh c-come on, Azul,” you shiver, trying to be light-hearted, “H-he’s h-having f-fun.”

“Having fun, my ass, (Y/n),” Azul grumbled, “That voice is annoying me - even more so than his normal one. Back to the old voice, Floyd.”

“Aww… but I like bein’ all baritone.”

A snap of his fingers and the contract disintegrated, leaving Floyd clearing his throat as his normal voice returned to him.

Kalim let out a soft sniffle then, “Jamil… I trusted you.”

“Hey, you cryin’, sea otter? Your tears are gonna freeze over, ya know,” Floyd asked.

“It’s all my fault…” Kalim sobbed a little harder, “I drove Jamil to the brink without realizing it. The real Jamil would never do such things! He’s a good guy… always helping me… giving me a shoulder to lean on… and… and…”

Azul rolled his eyes. Before he could open his mouth however -

“Isn’t th-that the a-a-attitude r-right there what d-drove him to th-the b-brink?” you asked, your voice shaking still from the cold.

“Wh-what…?” Kalim looked at you in awe.

“Yikes, (Y/n) - you do go for the jugular sometimes…” Grim spoke up from his spot.

“I’m with shrimpy on this,” Floyd agreed, turning toward Kalim, “Sea otter, you’re… TOO nice. It’s kinda grating.”

“Grating?”

“Yes,” Jade nodded in agreement, “If I were betrayed in the same way you were - I’d lash out with a torrent of unmitigated verbal abuse to break them down mentally, then bind them and drag them beneath the waves. The way you blame yourself and to excuse Jamil’s behavior is… a tad galling.”

“Galling? Really? Kalim asked this as if it was a compliment, “But… Jamil would never betray me…”

“News flash; he did,” Floyd shouted.

“A-And the w-way he w-was m-making you out to be the b-bad guy and get you expelled is even m-more nerve-wracking,” you explain, “H-However… I d-do understand why Jamil d-did it.”

“Huh?” Kalim and Grim looked at you in shock.

“Allow me to explain,” Azul adjusted his glasses, “Kalim - you carry yourself like a goody-two-shoes, laughing off conflict with a flippant word or two. Those remarks, however, are barbs on the skin to those that are calculating and twisted - Jamil and myself being prime examples. They might seem like nothing, but to us - it makes us go crazy and push harder to see you reach your breaking point.”

“And w-when you d-didn’t, Jamil t-took alternative m-measures,” you finish.

“You seem to really know the inner workings here, (Y/n),” Grim commented, looking up at you.

“T-Takes one t-to know one,” you answer, looking at Azul.

“I would argue, though, that in Kalim’s case,” Jade spoke, clasping his hands behind his back, “that it might be simply a case of naturally innocent disposition.”

“So… what you’re saying is… that Jamil’s… a bad guy?”

“Extremely,” everyone says in unison.

“In that case,” Kalim stands, resting his hands on his hips, “I’d better get back fast! I have to punch Jamil and yell ‘Traitor!’”

“You ought to make him march to the oasis and back ten times,” Grim growled, his ears falling behind his head.

“That, and we’ll need to bring him to his senses fast,” Azul agreed, “If we don’t, his magic reserves will run dry and his life could be in danger.”

“And thus that puts us back where this whole conversation started,” Floyd grumbled, “How’d we get back? Walkin’?”

“If there was a river, we could swim back,” Jade commented, looking around, “Though, it appears the rivers here are all dried out.”

“So, lack of water is the problem?” Kalim asked with a knowing smile.

“Of course,” Azul answered, “Floyd and Jade can easily outpace brooms and magic carpets for that matter when they’re in their true forms. However, we can’t exactly restore a river - even my own magic wouldn’t be able to -”

“Maybe you can’t, but I can!”

“What?!”

“‘Oasis Maker’!” your eyes widened, “Kalim! T-That’s it!”

“What do you mean?” Azul asked, looking down at you, “I thought Grim said it was only a glorified waterspout.”

“‘Oasis Maker’ allows me to produce an enormous volume of water with just a smidgen of magical power,” Kalim explained, “If I make you a river, you can get us back to the dorm, right?”

“T-that’s… your signature spell?! That’s insane!”

“It’s pretty useless when you have running water, though,” Kalim shrugged.

“Some countries don’t HAVE that sort of infrastructure!” Azul shouted, “Great Sevens, Kalim! Your power would make you nothing short of a HERO to those people! That’s… that’s… ABSURDLY marketable!”

“Azul!” you smack his cheek light, returning him to the task at hand.

“Kalim, if you would oblige us?” Jade asked.

“Of course! One river coming right up!” Kalim smiled, closing his eyes as magic began to encircle him, “Then water you shall have… and I’ll make it cool and refreshing for you! Respite in the scalding sands, a never ending party. Dance! Sing! Oasis Maker!”

***

The dorm was still cloaked in darkness by the time the group returned, sneaking into the lounge.

The students of the Scarabia dorm all encircled Jamil, who lounged before them in the headwarden’s chair as he ordered the students about, each of them still entrapped in a puppet-like state.

“The good thing is that he hasn’t gone too far to the point of no return yet,” Jade commented, looking over the banister before turning to the group, “Azul - do we have a plan?”

“We’ll have to snap Jamil out of his trance as you’ve done to me,” Azul answered, “But we also need to get close enough for both Kalim and (Y/n) to reach him.”

“Huh?” Grim asked, “What do you mean?”

“I agree, it would be too dangerous for (Y/n) to get involved with this,” Jade answered.

You looked over at Jamil, a feeling and the same urge slowly growing within you.

“You feel it, then?” Azul asked you softly.

You turn and give him a slow nod, “I do.”

Azul huffed - he had little choice in the matter. He turned to the others, “Here’s the plan - (Y/n) and Kalim will take this side of Jamil while Jade, Floyd, and I distract him. Grim - I’m expecting you to form a barrier to keep unwanted guards out of the way.”

“No worries, Azul,” Grim gave a mischievous smirk of confidence, “Grim the Great is at your service!”

“Do you think we’ll be able to pull it off?” you ask quietly.

“Trust me, angelfish,” Azul winked, “You know what to do.”

The group split, hiding themselves among the crowd of students, slowly inching forward toward Jamil.

“Haha! That’s it… go on,” Jamil’s twisted voice spoke as he sat back in his chair, closing his eyes, “keep singing my praises.”

“I never realized what a gallant figure you cut.”

“You oughta LIVE on a throne…”

“Your intelligence is beyond compare.”

“There’s royalty, then there’s you.”

“You look so strong and powerful!”

“Jamil, Jamil, he’s our man, if he can’t do it… GREAT!”

Jamil bolted upright at the sight of the five exiled students standing before him, “Wait, it’s YOU?! I sent you to the ends of this dimension! How did you get back so fast?!”

Kalim stepped forward, a hand in front of you while Scarabia’s headwarden staff was clutched in his hand, “I filled a dry river with water and we swam back.”

“Not that it was a cakewalk,” Floyd growled, “I’ll tell ya - I’m pretty worn out!”

“Tch,” Jamil tsked darkly, “Now I see… you used Kalim’s signature spell. And here I’d written it off as a worthless gift only good for watering plants or filling a pool.”

“Heh - you clearly don’t appreciate Kalim’s power for what it is then,” Azul shrugged, gripping his cane tighter.

“Jamil - I now see what you’ve thought of me all this time. There can be no question now - you are a coward and a traitor!” Kalim shouted, “Face me in combat! I’ll win back the housewarden seat you’ve stolen from me.”

“You accuse me of stealing?” Jamil stood, the overblot power growing around him, “You’re the one who stole everything from me! Now you shall witness my true power! Cower before my might! Phenomenal… cosmic… power!”

A fire bolt was flung and everyone ducked as the puppet dorm launched forward.

Grim blew a wall of fire up, preventing the students from getting involved and kept his guard up should any of them attempt to bypass the barrier. Floyd and Jade shot forward, pens at the ready and spewed fire and flora at Jamil’s attacks, Azul following close behind. Kalim worked from the side, keeping you behind him as he waited for his opening.

Azul dodged an attack, gritting his teeth, “Sevens! How much power has he been hiding all this time?!”

“I refuse to give up!” Kalim shouted, a wave of water mixing with Azul’s ice shield forced Jamil further back, the overblotted vice warden now taking on the defense.

Suddenly, Jamil’s power made everyone lose their footing, the group falling to the ground, “You little fools… you thought you could defeat the most powerful being on Earth!”

“Jamil! Snap out of it!” Kalim begged, looking up at his friend-turned-enemy, “You have always been powerful! You don’t need that darkness to prove otherwise!”

“You don’t understand!” Jamil shouted, “You always had to be the best! You always had to be better than me! I could never outdo you! I. Wasn’t. ALLOWED. TO! I was FINALLY going to be free… to be number one…”

As Jamil raised his hand, a figure darted to him… and another resounding ‘smack!’ echoed in the room as Jamil fell back.

“Jamil!” Kalim rushed forward, but was held back by Azul.

“Kalim! Wait!” Azul shouted.

“Azul? What’s going on?” Jade asked as he and Floyd watched on.

You stood before Jamil - eyes locked on each other as tears suddenly began to appear in Jamil’s eyes.

“Jamil…” your voice was soft, barely above a whisper, “I’m so sorry you had to endure that life… to be forced to hide your true self behind the pretense of incompetence, to always be… second-rate. I know that pain of wanting to be number one, too. Life… has truly been unfair to you - but this is not the way to fight back. You fight back… by simply being you - show your true strength in your magic… in your abilities. Then… you’ll get the recognition you want and deserve.”

Jamil’s features shifted before them, an arrangement of anger, frustration, fear… and sorrow. He bowed his head and the darkness slowly receded from his form.

Azul and Kalim moved quickly - Azul to your side and Kalim to Jamil’s. Kalim leaned over Jamil’s form as the vicewarden slowly reawoken.

“Ngh… Where am I?”

“Good,” Azul smiled as he sat with you at Jamil’s other side, “You’ve regained your senses.”

Kalim started to sniffle before large fat tears rolled down his cheeks - the regained housewarden pressing his face into the carpeting as he cried Jamil’s name, “I-I’m so glad you’re alive… so so glad…”

“Must you always be so dramatic?” Jamil sighed, sitting up, “I’m fine.”

“I… I never knew… how miserable you were all this time *sniff* *hic*. A-All this time… I never knew *sniff* just how much I put you through… So, l-let’s just stop. We can stop holding back on account of our social status.”

“Um… what?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly as Kalim explained - relieved that the two could act as rivals for the spot of number one and - to be equals. Azul arched a brow at you in silent question.

“Azul - mind if I talk to you?”

“Not at all, angelfish.”

He followed you out into the hallway, away from mischievous eyes as you took a breath and gave the headwarden a small smile, “First and foremost - I want to thank you for your help. I know that it normally isn’t like you to poke your… tentacles in other people’s businesses unless there’s a deal to be had.”

“(Y/n),” Azul gave you a smirk, resting his hand on your shoulder, “If you recall when you first came here, I said I would take responsibility for you.”

“You also promised to get me home,” you reminded him.

“Yes - I did. The point I’m trying to make here is that… regardless of if you’re in Octavinelle or not, I will still want to protect you - to make sure you’re safe,” Azul answered, “Have I not done just that? Does this not prove that I’m more than willing to at least be there when you need it most?”

You let out a sigh and nod, “I suppose so.”

Azul nodded, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, “(Y/n), I want to be there for you, to help you… will you at least allow me a second chance to prove that I’m more than what I appear?”

You look at Azul wearily, your gaze shifting a bit before meeting his eyes again.

His sea blue eyes, framed by the semi-rimmed glasses, still held a possessive desire within them - however, hope also burned within. He could have turned you away when you had initially asked for help, he could have ensnared you in a bubble - take away your voice - or even turn you into a mermaid again… and yet he didn’t. As you looked into his gaze, it seemed all Azul wanted… was another chance.

You let out a soft sigh and nod, “I think you should, and I believe you do. I would prefer to rewarm myself back up to you - which means I would like to stay in Ramshackle with Grim.”

Azul nodded, as much as he wanted to argue. He needed to get you to trust him again - which meant he would have to work extra hard to earn your favor again, “Very well. If you would like - I would be willing to help give you a few things that would help with the accommodations greatly. Whatever you wish, I will make it happen.”

“And what will you get out of it?” you ask, already knowing that Azul was looking for something.

“Your time,” Azul answered with a smile, “To be honest, the students of Octavinelle miss working with you. I know the headmage has you running ragged with janitorial duties, but if you could work a day or two in the lounge - I will consider it more than enough payment.”

“And, during my shifts, you’d be able to talk with me while we’re working.”

“Correct,” the headwarden nodded, “Does this seem like a fair deal to you?”

You nod in agreement, “More than, thank you.”

Azul offers a gloved hand, which you took with a shake.

The first steps to amending the bridge were in place… as well as the first steps toward an unknown trap.

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une-femme-de-lettres · 1 year

Text

Festive Spirit

Pairing: Ghost x Reader (mutual pining only) Word count: 3880 Warnings: none, just pure fluff Summary: The Task Force 141 is forced to lay low after a particularly demanding mission. There’s no going home for the Holidays this year but you want to give your boys some of the festive spirit of the season. Note: I just love them so fucking much!! And I’m a sucker for domestic fluff so there you go! Link to Masterlist

“Hey…” Your voice is quiet as you enter the small kitchen where Price is busy filling a mug with hot water. Your eyes dart to the window above the counter top, soft white light is projecting onto the ceiling of the rundown apartment you are currently staying in. It snowed again last night.

“Slept in today, Shells?” he asks with a smile, handing you the mug he just filled and completed with a bag of tea and three sugar cubes. You smile back and take the object, enjoying the feeling of warmth seeping through your fingers.

“Just had a rough night,” you say, making your way to sit at the table, grabbing a spoon while passing by the counter. “That’s all,” you finish in a smile. You’ve not been spending the calmest nights lately, memories of your latest mission still running around your mind, keeping you awake and alert at all times. This added to the fact that at least two of your teammates have been keeping the whole place filled with their snoring every night. Speaking of which…

“Where is everyone?” you ask curiously, watching Price sit at the table, on the chair opposite from you, with a light grunt.

“They went out for a run,” he says, making you huff. In that weather? So it is true that 141 members have a death wish…

“You stayed?” you ask Price matter-of-factly, your spoon clinking against the walls of your mug as you calmly stir the sugar into your hot beverage.

“We need to stick together as much as we can, just in case, while we’re laying low,” he explained, making you nod slowly.

“Right,” you reply, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. “How long until we can return to base?”

“Not for some time, unfortunately,” he sighs, looking at you with a sorry expression. He lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m gonna have to spend another Holiday season stuck in a safe house with a bunch of riled up guys.”

“Yeah,” you laugh in turn. Truth is, having to spend this time of year with your colleagues was not the best case scenario, but they were somewhat like a family to you still. So might as well enjoy the turn of events and make the most of it. Especially considering what you have gone through these past few days.

“Well, about that,” you start, your voice slightly quieter as if you feared some of your teammates might still be in the next room, able to hear your conversation. “I wanted to talk to you,” you say, watching Price sit a little closer to the table, attentively listening to you.

You proceed to explain to him what you have in mind. You want to celebrate the holidays in some way, and the best thing you’ve found would be buying a small gift for everyone along with a few decorations to bring the festive spirit into your temporary habitation. A nice home-cooked meal would be nice too, but that is definitely a plus, if you manage. Progressively, you see his face light up with a warm smile, making his eyes squint ever so slightly. Wrinkles appear around them.

“That’s…” he starts, contemplating your proposition, “I’ve not even thought about it, that’s very thoughtful of you,” he says and you have to keep yourself from smiling too much. Your heart beats faster at the prospect of carrying out your little plan.

“Well, you know this mission’s been rough on all of us so…” you explain, a few images projecting inside your mind. You try to cut them out, looking over at him. He gets up slowly, approaching you as you take a sip of your beverage.

“You finish your tea and pack what you need, I’m gonna get the car ready, yeah?” he says, cocking an eyebrow. You smile.

“Thanks John.”

“S’ nothing,” he replies, chuckling and patting the top of your head before exiting the kitchen, leaving you to figure out more details about your plan.

The location of your safe house is a rather small city. But it has a pretty extensive retail park at the edge of town with a large range of mainly chain stores. Perfect for what you have to do.

The place is bustling with activity, with people getting ready to celebrate Christmas Eve tonight. People buying last minute gifts. People gathering supplies for the five course meal they’re about to feed their families. And people simply shopping or wandering around town just to kill some time before tonight.

You visit a pound shop first. You have a pretty good idea of what you’ll be able to find for your teammates around here. But you still ask Price for advice, just in case. He knows them better than you do after all. You also take the time to gather a few decorations to cheer up your space, garlands, a comically small Christmas tree and a few ornaments. Price follows you closely, offering to carry the stuff you collect along the way. You don’t have that many things so you dismiss his help with a grateful word.

Still unable to think of anything else but your job for a day, you also take advantage of your little adventure to stock up on a few supplies in other stores. Mainly food but also various consumables and material that you could use in intervention, just in case you have to get back on the field immediately.

By now, a couple of hours have passed and Price suggests you get lunch somewhere. You stop at a chain fast-food restaurant. It would definitely be better for discretion to eat in the car or grab take out to eat home but you still have a few things to grab here after lunch and Price is not about to let you freeze to death in the middle of a parking lot. You take a seat in a small booth in a corner of the restaurant and quietly eat your meal.

You start a nice little conversation with Price that ends up with him talking about a few of his past Holiday experiences. He talks to you about how he had to spend Christmas Eve at Credenhill with the boys one year. And how Soap had forced Ghost to put up decorations in the base’s common room with him then. He even managed to get Ghost to wear one of those Santa hats, over the mask, of course, for maximum effect. He then stops for a second and wonders. You look at him curiously and he smiles, preparing his question for you.

“What’s the best Christmas present you ever got?” he asks, amused at the memories forming in his own mind. You chuckle, your eyes darting to the food in front of you as you think about it.

“I was ten, I got my first camera,” you finally say excitedly, still trying to gather up the few memories you had of that time. “It was one of those Polaroid camera things,” you explain, mimicking the object with your hands.

He can’t keep his eyes away from you, you’re talking about it with a bewildered expression on your face. It warms his heart.

“I took that thing everywhere, everything I saw I would photograph,” you sigh. “And I would hoard the pictures in my room, some weren’t even legible but I just wanted to keep them all,” you finish with a chuckle and a shrug.

“You’re a photographer,” he says matter-of-factly, leaning back in his seat. He tries to hide a fact that he is delighted to learn more things about you. Or even just to hear you speak so openly, especially when you’ve been so quiet and reserved lately.

“Well I kind of stopped with the years, and with work…” you explain with a sad smile. Price moves the conversation to another light topic and you keep conversing quietly until you’re both done eating.

Your search then continues in other stores. At some point, Price leaves your side to get to another store, designating the car you came in as your rally point. It’ll give you time to go to your last destination. You still needed to get a gift for your Captain.

Once you’re both back at the vehicle, you ask him for one last stop at the Tesco store nearby. You still want to get some sort of meal ready for Christmas Eve but the kitchen in your safe house won’t exactly allow for extensive cooking. You end up settling for a bunch of frozen pizzas that you’ll be able to cook in the small oven there. Good enough…

Of course by the time you’re back, the boys have returned from their little training session but you manage to sneak what you’ve bought inside without raising suspicion. You pretend to have a mild headache to retreat inside your room for the next hours. Price, your partner in crime, plays along and checks up on you from time to time, making sure to also keep the others busy so they don’t question your absence too much.

Price’s whole ‘We forgot to get a few things this morning, boys…’ spiel seems to have worked as he manages to make your teammates leave the safe house long enough at the beginning of the evening for you to put up the decorations and start the pizzas. You quickly decorate the main space as you don’t know how long they’ll take to come back from their supply run.

You place the small pre-decorated tree in the centre of the coffee table in front of the couch. You surround it with the wrapped gifts and you see Price smile at you from the corner of your eyes.

“Is one of those for me?” he asks with a chuckle. You stand up from your kneeling position on the floor and get back to hanging the tinsel garlands on the wall with tape.

“Don’t you dare peeking, Price,” you threaten and he laughs it off.

As the clock is ticking, you only feel your heart beating faster and faster, making you slightly out of breath. You can’t help picturing the events of the night ahead and you often have to snap out of your reverie to focus on your current tasks.

You know your teammates are returning when you hear their heavy footsteps in the stairwell outside the apartment. You jump up to wait by the front door impatiently. Price looks at you from inside the kitchen, his heart already melting at the sight.

Soap is the first to enter the apartment, shoulders and head covered in a light dusting of snow. You smile at him as his eyes widen with at sight before him.

“Steamin’ Jesus, Lass… what’s all this?” he mumbles under his breath.

The others soon follow. Ghost stays behind for a moment, closing and locking up the door. Gaz takes a moment to look around at the decorations, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“You did all that?” He asks and you shrug.

“Might have gotten someone’s help…” you say with a mischievous smile and a quick look back at Price. Gaz gives a knowing look and nod in the older man’s direction.

Your eyes are on Ghost, then. He looks in slight awe before your desire to have them spend joyful Holidays in your small safe house. But a very light shade of sorrow tints his gaze. You feel your heart sink inside your chest ever so slightly.

“Happy Christmas, boys…” you mumble, your throat unable to let out louder words.

Soap hugs you tightly and thanks you sincerely. The gesture puts joy in his heart in that time when he can’t be with his own family. Gaz does too, before his gaze meets the coffee table and the presents laid on it. He laughs, you really went all out.

You join Price in the kitchen while Soap, Ghost and Gaz get rid of their snow-covered outerwear and put away the supplies they just bought. You notice from your spot inside the small room that Soap has found the red and white Santa hat you got earlier. He excitedly puts it on his head, before the disapproving looks of his teammates, especially Ghost’s. But he doesn’t care because he can see how it makes you smile, and that’s all that matters to him.

The cheap pizzas start smelling really good and you can’t stop smiling in anticipation. Price teases you for it but you know from the look in his eyes he’s currently the happiest man on Earth.

You end up all sitting around the small coffee table, either on the floor or on the couch. You suggest Price sits on the couch - it’s better for his hips - and he curses at your insolence. The pizzas join your little reunion and you start eating eagerly.

Some anecdotes about past Christmas experiences are exchanged just like earlier today when you had lunch with Price. Soap tells you about his own side of the story and even Ghost joins into the conversation. He looks way more excited than earlier but he can’t help adverting his gaze every time your eyes meet him, making him pause for a second before speaking again.

After your meal, you quickly debate opening the gifts in the morning as is tradition, but you end up settling for unwrapping them tonight. No one says it, but everyone knows why.

Price is the first to get his present. You insist on giving it to him first as he was the one that helped you make this day truly count. You can see his face turning a very light shade of red when you hand him the gift from your spot on the floor. He can’t help but smile.

He smiles even wider, if it were even possible, when he takes a black woollen beanie hat out of the box. The wool is soft against his fingers and the colour is a deep shade, discreet and elegant.

“Just in case you want to get rid of that old bucket hat…” you say under your breath, suppressing a laugh. Soap chuckles and, for a split second, you’re sure you can hear Ghost let out a small laugh too. Maybe your senses are playing tricks on you.

“Oh come on, it’s not that bad!!” Price replies, looking slightly offended. Gaz raises an eyebrow and cocks his head.

“It’s pretty bloody ugly, mate…” Soap says with a dramatic squint in Prices direction.

Price still thanks you warmly, even after your little show of humour. Soap’s gift comes next. You hand it to him from across the table and he eagerly takes it, unwrapping it quickly. You didn’t know Soap that well so you asked Price for what to get him. Your heart beats faster as he opens it, you hope he’ll find it nice.

He unwraps a small dog plush toy. A German Shepherd with a small keychain so he can keep it on his equipment, you thought. The animal looks cute, with big blue eyes, it reminded you of him a little when you got it.

“I was told you really like dogs,” you explain shyly. Price starts laughing silently and Soap looks up at him with an angry look.

“Oh that’s funny now,” he says sarcastically with a nod. Your expression falters as you get it. Soap hates dogs - they scare him shitless, in fact.

You feel played and frown at Price. But suddenly your eyes are wide and on Ghost again as he laughs along with Price. He looks over at Soap who’s sitting beside him, thinking for a second. You can see his eyes fill with a mischief you’ve rarely witnessed on him. It suits him.

“Maybe you’d prefer half of it?” he asks Soap. The sergeant’s shoulders drop again.

“Come on, L.t…” he says under his breath, making Ghost and Price laugh harder. Your eyes remain on Ghost for a moment, his eyes slightly squinting with the smile hidden under his mask. He looks happy, he looks… cute?

With this, Soap moves to sit beside you and give you another hug as a thank you. He whispers in your ear that he absolutely love the small toy, no matter what the others might say. Your heart flutters inside your chest.

After Soap’s comes Gaz’s present. You hand it to him like you did for the others and he smiles gently. He looks around at his teammates while opening it, curious of what little trick you had in mind for him. He takes a second to read the cover of the book he just unwrapped.

“10 subtle ways to prove your superiors wrong without getting fired,” he says, you smile when he looks at you. “Nice one, Kid,” he says with a chuckle. You know of his aversion for blindly following orders and respecting stupid regulations. Doesn’t really sits right with him, does it?

“Is this directed towards me?” Price asks tentatively, casting a suspicious look towards you.

“Nah, it’s for higher up, Captain,” Gaz responds, winking at you.

You’re glad he gets it. This is a stupid gift, you know it. But again, every one of them is some kind of joke. And they wouldn’t have liked it any other way.

Ghost’s turn finally comes. You can’t help but feel a little shier handing the present to him. You try to look at him in the eyes. He looks back.

“Ghost, here’s yours,” you say quietly and he nods.

“Thanks.” His voice comes out colder than he would’ve liked. You swallow a small lump in your throat.

Inside the package is a pair of black socks with a white skeleton feet print on them. They match his gloves and his mask. You tilt your head slightly.

“To keep you warm,” you add quietly as you see his eyes going from the socks to you, widening ever so slightly. You swear you can see his cheekbones raise slightly under his mask.

A heavy silence stretches between you all. This one’s meant as a joke too, but it’s way more than that to him. And the words you just let out are proof that you care more for him than you actually realize. You notice that only now that you spoke them.

“They were leftover from the Halloween section…” Price’s playful voice breaks the silence and you turn to him, trying to silence him with a gesture of your hand.

“Shhhhh, stop!” you exclaim, extending your arm to try and hit him in the shin before turning to Ghost again. “Don’t listen to him,” you say, pointing at Price.

“It’s true though,” Price continues, making the others laugh. Of course they were on clearance after Halloween season was over but you don’t want that fact to make this gift seem any less thoughtful. Ghost doesn’t see it that way. He speaks to you sincerely.

“Thank you, Shells,” he says with an amused voice, making you pause for a second. “For everything you did today,” he continues, putting the socks down on the table with the discarded wrapping. You feel the urge to look down but your eyes move around instead, looking at each and every one of your teammates.

When you finally turn to Soap, who’s still sitting beside you, his eyes are curious.

“You don’t have a present, Lass?” he asks and it dawns on you only now. You were so caught up in getting them their gifts, you didn’t even think of getting one for yourself.

“I guess my present is… this,” you assure them with a smile, gesturing towards the whole space you sitting in. Price chuckles at your enthusiasm but shakes his head. He knew that would happen. He knows you all too well.

He slowly takes a small box out from behind him on the couch and nudges at your elbow with it. You look surprised when you look back at him.

“There ya go, Kid,” he says with a gentle smile, “picked it out while you were on your own,” he explains with a shrug. Of course he did…

You open the box slowly and discover a small Polaroid camera. The others look curiously at it and back at Price. You can’t keep your eyes off of your gift, memories coming back to you instantly.

“They still make those?!” you ask excitedly, feeling the pang of nostalgia inside your heart. You can’t help smiling goofily, your limbs trembling slightly with the rush of emotions. You stand up and move towards Price. “Thank you so much,” you whisper as you hug him tightly.

“S’ nothing,” he responds, letting you go so you can explore the small object. Gestures come to you naturally, muscle memory kicking in quickly. Load the film - tweak the exposition - activate the flash - press the shutter button. You want to try it so bad.

One idea comes to your mind, then. You look over at everyone from where you’re standing. You would want this moment to last forever, but it won’t. And the closest thing you can’t think of is this.

“I want to take a picture of us,” you say, looking at Ghost. ‘There’s no picture?’ ‘Never…’ “If you’re all okay with it,” you say hesitantly hugging the camera close to you. You can see Ghost’s eyes moving to you. They’re gentle.

“Hell yeah,” Soap says, standing from his spot on the floor.

“I’m in.”

“Sure…”

Gaz and Price talk in turn. Your eyes are still on Ghost. He looks at his teammates fondly and nods.

“Why not?” You feel your heart grow lighter inside your chest and smile excitedly.

You take your seat in the middle of the couch, between Gaz and Price. Soap rapidly moves to the armrest, sitting on it awkwardly and leaning towards Price to make sure he’s in the shot. He pulls the Santa hat down onto his head slightly and smiles.

Price wraps his arm around your ribcage to pull you closer and Gaz motions Ghost closer. Ghost mirrors Soap position, only he doesn’t lean in as much. He tries to look over at the camera lens as you extend your arm as far as you can. You press the small red button. The flash practically blinds you and you can’t help laughing.

The film rolls out of the camera and you take it out, looking at it for a moment and leaving it aside to cure. While it does, you start another animated conversation with the others and you attempt to take more pictures of you and Soap, or Price and Gaz... Soap insists that you take one of him with his gift, you happily oblige. The apartment gets filled with laughter, loud voices and colourful curse words. The first picture you’ve taken still sits on the small table behind you, colours slowly getting brighter.

And when the picture is finally legible on the white film, you will be able to see how Ghost doesn’t in fact look at the lens and instead watches you intently from the corner of his eyes. And you will be able to tell just how gentle his eyes really are when he is looking at you - only you.

Taglist : @stressyanddepressyfoodservice @fatedeniedhope @cabreezer0117 (I probably need to redo that taglist cause I don't think it's up to date, sorry if I missed anyone...)

#cod mw22 #cod mwii #cod mw2 fanfic #ghost cod mw2 #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #john soap mactavish #captain john price #kyle gaz garrick #reader insert #ghost x reader #ghost x you #mutual pining #christmas eve #domestic fluff #task force 141 #call of duty mwii

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