#and some gears 😮‍💨 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

halcyone-of-the-sea · 2 years ago

Note

First off I LOVE your writing, I’m so happy you’re taking requests again so, may I please request something with Ghost? Like the reader is part of the 141 and Ghost has a soft spot for her and is very protective of her and both having feelings for each other but not saying anything bc both think the other one deserves better or just something like that🥹😮‍💨💖🙏🏻 feel free to keep practicing smut for this one!👀✨

You’re awesome 🥰💞

Blood Was Its Avatar

PAIRING: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Getting close to you was never his plan, but when he can't stop his self-protective instincts from pushing you away, will he be able to repair your strange friendship? Or will his body have to speak for him? (18+)

WORD COUNT: 8.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, blood, wounds, stitches, death, smut, p in v, throat f-ing, degradation, dom/sub dynamics, implied pain kink, hair pulling, hate sex? but not really?, semi-clothed sex, vulgar language, fluff at the end, etc. just pure filth.

A/N: This is sub-par because I was up until 4 in the morning today and didn't have the energy to edit in-depth lmfao, but enjoy Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

All of Ghost’s problems started and ended with you. He was impressed with that fact, actually.

They call you ‘Masque’ on account of the mission from years back, ‘07 Ghost recalls easily. When you’d been pinned down and surrounded, the dead bodies of your unit all around your feet. You’d chosen to act while the others had been yelling orders over the radio—rooting around the pooling blood on the ground and slathering your face with it; your body.

You pretended to be dead.

Quick thinking, Ghost had told you with a glint in his eye when you’d gotten back, those whites of your eyes ten times more noticeable. Like the moon hanging around a crimson-drowned sky.

You’d cursed him out and said of course it was, quoting some poem from Edgar Allen Poe as a joke.

“Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the redness and the horror of blood.” The Masque of the Red Death. Your claim to survival apparently, as you had just read it a day before.

Ghost said you were bloody fucking crazy and found his eyes darkly watching the way you smirked at him. How the dried blood on your lips would splinter at your loud chuckle as you both entered the C17.

As he knew—all of his problems started and ended with you. Today was no different.

“Damn! Lookin’ good today Ghost, are those new gloves I spy?” You were always so…bubbly.

“Masque,” the masked-man greats blandly, not even sparing you a look as you enter the meeting room. The screen on the far wall was hooked up to Price’s computer—broadcasting its news out into the dim lighting with images of mayhem and a loop of a video containing the bombing of an embassy building in the Netherlands.

Profile pictures stain the screen of wanted subjects; captured or killed in the crossfire made no difference here, anyone could see it.

You drop down into the seat beside his own with a huff, body shed of your usual black gear, and wearing casual fatigues instead—your tags jump on your chest and Ghost sees them glint in the light.

Your face shifts into a smile, prodding with a bump of your elbow. The Lieutenant turns and glares dryly while you carry on, “I asked if you got new gloves; they’re nice.”

“Needed ‘em.” Ghost drawls, seeing no way out of this as he glances around at the multitude of other free seats. No one else was here yet, and Price had needed to step out for a moment to grab another report from his office one floor up.

A small grunt echoes from his throat before his eyes dart back to yours. Shifting in his seat, his lax posture tenses before loosening.

Raising a brow at Ghost, you stifle a laugh.

“That’s it?” He blinks at you slowly, those bright blues trapping you as they shine out from his skeletal visage; his great body hidden under layers of Kevlar and thick canvas cloth. Like some weird and deadly present. You tease him, “No attempt at a conversation, Ghosty? That hurts.”

You sarcastically put a hand to your chest.

“Then suffer.” Ghost states like he’s reading the newspaper, stretching out one of his wrists by rolling it until it cracks the joints. Where was everyone else? “I’m not fuckin’ talking about bloody gloves, Masque.”

“It’s called a conversation starter!” Under the mask, he raises a dull eyebrow. You glower at him, but the smirk on your lips shows how much you enjoy this.

“For who? Could have jus’ stayed quiet, then.” Scoffing, you roll your eyes and indulge him—pointedly going silent. Almost immediately an awkward nothingness covers the room with its metaphorical blanket and Ghost’s muscles slowly go stiff as he crosses his arms slowly over his chest. You bite your lip and stamp down a snort.

A minute spreads like molasses. Two. Three. Five.

“Alright,” Ghost growls, breaking as you pick at your cuticles, humming horribly off-tune to a point where the Lieutenant’s ears were ringing and annoyance faired. “Fucking hell stop it, just say something already to shut up that noise. Sounds like my damn brakes squealin’.”

You stop and laugh loudly, elbowing him again as he jerks away with a low grunt. Blue flashes, and his heart pounds.

“Jeez, Lieutenant, is my humming that bad for you?” The air rolls with tension.

“More effective than torture.” Ghost utters, his Manchester drawl violent and thick as it coats your ears. You take no offense—you’d been doing it on purpose, anyways; always the one to exploit cracks in the concrete. You'd found out a lot through your studies of the man beside you. Mostly, all of the small tics and unique qualities that made Ghost such a strange character.

On the battlefield, the large man was resilient and patient. He could wait in one spot for days if he had to, sitting for a perfect shot. Nothing could break the line of purpose and authority he had over the units he was placed in or his fighting spirit. Gunbattles, torture, you name it he’d survived it.

But he disliked anything below scalding hot tea, detested his objects and packs being messed with…and clenched his hidden jaw at small, repetitive, noises.

Low, horrible, humming, tapping fingers, tongues clicking over and over. You had no idea why, but the sight of making this experienced and handsome man glare at you with annoyance made your face heat up.

You chuckle in the meeting room, eyes crinkling up at him before you reach for one of the pens and notepads on the table. Clicking the bottom, you shrug and start to scribble nothing into the side margins as blue ink bleeds like foreign blood.

“What’s Price got for us today, then?” Your voice echoes, “We shipping out with the others or going Black again?”

The Captain usually paired the two of you up for Black Ops for a reason—Ghost the strategic mastermind to your reckless bloodlust. Push and pull.

Missions were rarely a failure.

Ghost sighs, finally getting the sensation of control back into him. “Black,” he begins, “least for us. Old Man’s sending Garrick and Johnny out in hopes of drawin’ a few bastards out first. Netherlands. We slip in the back—off the books, ‘course.”

He watches you from the side of his eye, gaze following your pen as you sketch out a small stick figure with a skull for a face. Ghost stifles a huff as he scratches at the side of his face.

“Well, of course,” you slyly tease, glancing at him before looking back to your pad. “Are we getting any soldiers?”

“None. Just us.”

“Ooo,” Ghost watches your lips curl and feels his body slowly still. “Sounds like fun.”

“It sounds like I’m going to have to babysit again,” you laugh again and dark blue seems to spark with some strange emotion. Ghost clears his throat and takes down a breath.

“Oh, please,” you chuckle, “I’ve saved your hide a few times before, Ghosty, be nice to me.”

“Nice isn’t in the job description, Masque.”

“Well, it isn’t for you, grumpy. I think Johnny and Gaz are lovely.” Your nose tilts up teasingly as Ghost grumbles like a cat. “But that’s alright, I like you anyways.” Winking, you go back to your pointless scribbling as footsteps echo from the hallway.

Ghost stares, his hands on the armrests slowly clenching into fists as he studies your expression. His eyes slid over scars and blemishes he’d already looked at a million times over, seeing in his mind’s eye the stains of blood and that every present smile—the burn of your presence beside him like a brand in his stomach. You never seemed to let him get too far away from you on Ops, but it wasn’t some form of obsession. It was worry; he’d seen it.

You didn’t like it when you couldn’t see his back ahead of yours. Ghost guessed it had to do with your lost unit. He never pressed it.

In fact, he’d noticed himself not eager to see you off himself. Had spent many a night in the onsite gym after missions because of it, where he’d given you the cold shoulder after. He didn’t like that feeling. That hesitation.

Ghost knew only to trust people as much as he had to…so why did he like when you said nice things to him? His jaw clenches, shoulders rolling to dispel tension as he rips his eyes away from your body as if you were fire incarnate. Your head perks up at the sound of talking voices getting closer to the meeting room.

Soap and Gaz enter a few moments later and Price shuffles in behind them. You smile warmly and greet them, shifting the notepad closer to yourself nonchalantly.

Ghost grunts and stays stationary, straightening up when he realizes he's slightly leaned toward you during your conversation. His new gloves pull taunt over his knuckles and he suddenly wants to rip them off.

—

You begin to wonder when you’ll be free from blood coating your fingers but know deep down you never will be. At least, not if this was how you’d be getting covered in it.

Sitting inside the hotel bedroom, you slowly extract a blood-coated bullet from Ghost's large thigh, grimacing when he grunts from over you. You’re in between his legs, kneeling, as the metal finally breaks free from the skin barrier—the entry wound is small but nonetheless dangerous. His pants were cut from thigh to knee, a long spit that showed pale, scarred skin.

Keeping a tight grip on the forceps, you hum under your breath in satisfaction.

“No bullet fragments—lucky you.”

Ghost forces out, “Yeah, feelin’ proper lucky.” You chuckle, moving back and dropping the bullet to a food plate you’d put on the floor. Shuffling, you take up the rag placed over your upper arm and bring it back up. Patting the gushing wound, you frown and think back on the events that got you here as the Lieutenant shifts and bites his tongue.

The intensity in his blue eyes burns into you, lungs deeply inhaling with a silent breath. Your fingers tingle, but you diligently press the fabric to the wound and try to ignore the heat from Ghost’s flesh or how his legs flinch with every trail of your nails. His muscles are pure iron around you, and you’re suddenly very aware of the position you’re in.

Swallowing stiffly, you sigh and notice him slightly shiver when your breath caresses his upper leg. You stop immediately, lips going tight.

It had been fifteen minutes earlier when Soap and Gaz had set up in a far more open and less secluded hotel three blocks away—directly across from the base location for your gaggle of targets. As planned, you and Ghost would be off the books and go in when they were too distracted by the Sergeants’ in plain sight.

Fire was supposed to be the cover story. Go in, take care of business, and set the place alight after the area was clear of civilians. But no one was counting on the targets being surrounded by three more friends.

Of course, guns lead to bullets and bullets to flesh. You can still hear the ringing in your head when Ghost had jerked you to the slide and shoved you behind the far wall—skull snapping back to look in horror as his leg exploded with gore.

Fucking bastard had been distracted by you and hadn’t had time to dodge. That wasn’t Ghost, but then again, Ghosty wasn’t quite the same, was he? Least, not to you.

“You’re a fool, you know that?” You huff, something swirling in your chest as your gloves peel the layer of cut pants farther down to see better. “You should have looked after yourself.”

“And what?” Ghost grumbles, letting you do what you wanted to him. “Let you get fuckin’ shot, Masque—you have a bloody death wish?” His last word comes off with a growl as you press tighter into his thigh.

His hand instantaneously snaps out to grasp the back of your hair tightly with an instinctual low groan. Naturally, a small whine exits your lips in retaliation.

You both freeze and the room jumps up to a hundred degrees; your lower body flips as your skin burns a million degrees. Fingers still, you feel your breath hitch when his calloused fingers scrape your scalp, your hair in his expansive palm. It was a pure reaction you knew, and when you’d asked him to let you help out with this problem you had thought this might happen—he’s a soldier after all, just like you.

But he hadn’t denied you. If anything, since six missions back, you were the only person who he wanted to work on him. He’d never said why.

You look up at him from the side, eyes wide with shock and embarrassment. Ghost’s heart skips beats before he clears his throat, snapping his hand back immediately and slamming it to the mattress. A second of strained silence settles where you both try to forget what the fuck just happened.

“Keep bloody going then,” He says, deep and grating to a point where you shove down a shiver. Your head feels light off of his scent, and you have to ask yourself why you’re feeling so feverish all of a sudden.

You bite your lip and nod, hand moving away to grab at the sanitized needle and thread with your forceps—dropping the rag back onto your forearm to let it hang. For once in your life you’re left mute by his actions.

Mute to the fact that you’d liked them.

Your face burns like a hidden fire; epidermis alight with the strength to rival the flames the two of you had started fifteen minutes ago. Lungs stutter and hands inside the gloves go clammy. It’s only after you were halfway done with the stitches that you mutter words.

“Shouldn’t have taken that bullet, Ghost.” He had been stone still the entire time, hands clenched beside him and his thighs like rocks. Feet firmly planted. It was like he was barely breathing, too.

Ghost blankly stares, staying quiet as you continue.

“You were distracted. That never happens.” His form was almost entirely shadowing you; great spanning shoulders from above tight like a looming statue. You dig the needle deeper with a push of the forceps, threading through yielding skin with quick punctures. He doesn’t even flinch.

Ever since ‘07, there was an obvious aversion to partners stemming from you. You distanced yourself from forming close bonds with those who you hadn’t already known. In many ways, Ghost and the others of One-Four-One were the closest you could get to people now.

Ghost, you admit, was far closer than all the others combined.

But this sentiment was known—both the aversion and the care you held. The Lieutenant wasn’t good with words, but he knew how to read you better than anyone; the way you carried yourself. He knew you didn’t like it when he got hurt in front of you.

Ghost had to ask why he even bothered to shove you out of the way, regardless. You would have been fine. So why had his eyes gone wide and his iris flared with a dead glow when he’d seen the gun swivel in your direction? The man grunts at a deep dig from your sutures but you continue to mutter to yourself as he glares at the far wall, venom-like.

His sin was that he had grown to care about you. His burden and his curse.

This couldn’t continue.

Ghost looks down at you with a sheen of distanced nonchalant-ness and when you lent back with a sigh of your lips, his body moved. You blink in surprise as you feel his muscles bunch and before you know it you’re being grabbed harshly by the arms and lightly shoved to the side.

“Ghost!” You snap, eyes narrowing dangerously as he stands to his feet—blood training down his thigh and kneecap before disappearing back under the stained cargos. “What the fuck?! I’m not done with it.”

Attempting to stomp closer, he swivels his head to you as his spine goes formal. Your feet stall from under you and your veins pump faster, forceps and slick gloves freezing mid-air.

You blink. He’d only ever looked at you like that when you’d first met.

Blue is a silent sheen of ice and cold death; black sockets behind his mask are more like voids holding chilled sapphires.

Why was he looking at you like he didn’t know you? Once more you say, confused and suddenly small, “Ghost?”

“Enough.” His voice was monotone and barky, the tone final. Your fingers tense at the sound. What…what was this? “You need to get your head back on, Masque. I can’t watch over you like a bloody Private every time you get stiff-legged, copy?”

Your jaw slackens. Inside, your heart smashes itself into your ribs in a violent pang. There’s a moment of complete and utter silence in which Ghost remains standing with concrete tied to his feet. He sees the flash of confused hurt in your eyes, the way your muscles jump for a moment.

A suffocating wave of regret strikes him, but he felt like he had to do this—keep up boundaries. Even if his throat was closing in an attempt to make him shut up.

Ghost’s accent makes him sound harsh and unforgiving. “Price’ll need us back in fifteen. Get your shit together.”

He bends down and snatches bandages with a quick hand, beelining to the bathroom and closing the door with a firm hand. Blankly, you stare at the barrier as the wall rattles; face burning—unable to speak beyond a small sound in the back of your mouth.

The two of you stay separated for the remainder of the time, not speaking, and not moving from your respective areas.

When Ghost finally leaves ten minutes after he’d pushed back the self-loathing and guilt, freshly bandaged, he finds your stuff already gone. He glances around the area slowly, taking in the wails of the fire trucks from blocks away and the neighboring rooms of the hotel as residents speak in mutters from behind walls. The air is cold and lifeless.

He grabs his things in total silence, swallowing down saliva paired with long breaths. Ghost’s eyes remain tight. Body wound and coated in rigidity that could rival a rhino’s armored plates.

Mind whirling, but still ever mute, he leaves the hotel and heads to the coordinates Price had given the two of you alone. The absence of your warm body beside his was more jarring than anything he’d expected to experience.

Ghost didn’t want to admit how many times his eyes trailed to the empty concrete at his left.

—

When you lose something in someone, you tend to lose it hard. Thus still, that was the case here. Ghost and you always jabbed at each other—it was in your nature to do so—but this was different. The Lieutenant could be cold, but…never to the extent to shove you away from helping him with his wounds.

Both of you always did that with the other, if that be physically or just being in the same room, while getting fixed up.

If Ghost didn’t want you around for whatever rage-inducing reason, you weren't going to grovel or beg. The sudden switch-up still stabbed you in the heart though.

On the second week, it got easier.

You passed by Ghost without a single comment, shifting into the meeting room once more. He grunts as you shimmy through the door right before him, his feet halting before he runs into you.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Masque, you lost your bloody eyes or something?” You don’t answer, blankly walking to the end of the table and taking the single chair with steady steps; sitting down and dragging a notepad to your general area.

Blinking, you look up at the projection and skim the small details they give over.

Ghost stares from the doorway, clenching his jaw. After a moment, he slips inside and slowly strides to the table.

The days had been difficult for him, struggling to re-situate himself to his isolation after you’d been with him for years. Sure he had Johnny, Gaz, and Price, but you were…

Ghost places a veiny hand on the back of a chair about four down from yours, knuckles white as he’d shed his gloves not five minutes ago. His eyes stay stuck to the tabletop, hips shifting. He hadn’t thought it would be this hard to push you out. Not only physically but mentally.

He found himself thinking of your face at night. Like a phantom, it would snap into his consciousness when the lights went out and the shadows got long. Your smile and your skin. How your fingers would gently press into his flesh when you were threading a needle through him—shivers of pleasure and pain intertwined by the scrape of your nails.

Ghost’s hand tightens on the chair, and you spare him a tense glance as he seemingly fights within his mind.

The Lieutenant wonders at your willpower and your drive. He spent the weeks hating that he had gotten what he wanted, and then he hated himself more because of that fact. It was good to keep you away from him. Not only for himself but for you.

You both were becoming too….attached. Ghost would have none of it. It had bled over into him using his own body to protect yours that was just…was just…

“...Those new tags, then?” You look away from the screen and shift your gaze to him as his voice bounces.

Around your neck, the new reflective metal of your new dog tags glint. Your heart skips when he speaks to you, but he still doesn’t look your way.

“That an apology?” Deadpanning, your unimpressed gaze glares into his face as his hand strangles the chair.

The room returns to strained silence. You huff.

“Pretty shitty one there, asshat.” Ghost’s shoulders roll under his gear, a great sigh quickly exiting him. Everyone had noticed the tension over time—it was becoming a detriment to the team.

The Lieutenant’s blue eyes darken, and in his body, a great heat was beginning to burn. Just looking at you provoked lucid and vulgar thoughts, and as the dim light from the projector makes shadows on your face, Ghost traces them with a chained desire. Being away from you was a physical pain to him, but he also knew that being around you was worse.

All of Ghost’s problems may have started and ended with you, but they also grew in his own head. They’d been there in the back corners ever since he’d given you your nickname; found out he liked the way your face was wet with spilled blood and sweat. Your body. Your hands on the hard flesh of his upper thigh…trailing up...

Ghost’s pants get tight as he stares without saying anything. Watching you scribble on your notepad. Glaring.

“Why can’t I get you out of my fucking head?” Your ears twitch at the low growl as if coming from a beast; seconds later, your brain catches up to process the words. Your pen stops its pointless scrawling just as your breath does. Ghost spits out, seeing your form straighten in the chair, “Every bloody thought, you’re right there!”

His boots stomp to the floor, and before you know it a hand is trapping the back of your head, fingers carding through hair to angle your chin up. Your breath gasps out as your wide eyes lock on Ghost’s, his hold tight but not uncomfortable; as if he knows the perfect amount of pressure to make your blood surge and your pupils expand.

You stare into volatile blue with silver flecks, a skeletal mask stained from dirt and blood. Ghost’s thumb digs into your scalp.

“Answer me, Masque,” he grunts, accent so thick you momentarily struggle to string the words together in your stupor.

Ghost’s nose is close to yours; breathing in each other’s air as the temperature rises. Your throat bobs with a swallow. Below you, you feel your legs clench together as the Lieutenant's fingers lightly pull on your roots when you don’t respond—small sparks of electricity run down your spine that make it straighten instinctually. A soft purr flies from your lips; face on fire as your lashes flutter. Your hands clench at the dull pulse in your lower body.

The Brit’s dead eyes stare down at you, glinting; studying you deeply with growing satisfaction in his heart and tension in his boxers.

You both glare half-lidded, panting, and flesh heated.

“Is this your apology?” He tightens his hand and you bite your lip, small whine meeting his ears as he represses a groan at the sound. Your voice was breathy but smug.

“You fucking wanted this, you naughty little beast,” Ghost growls, moving even closer to tower over you. “You’re playin’ me.” You mold into him as you still sit in your chair, your chin set onto his upper abdomen as the midsection of your breasts presses into his crotch; brushing against his hardened bulge firmly.

You shiver at the feeling, your core leaking out slippery fluids to stain through your pants one second at a time. Every twitch of his fingers leaves you wanting to arch into him. Feel him.

Ghost feels your hands go to wrap his open thighs, nails digging into the back of his pants as his mouth opens under the mask to force out air.

“You liked me in between your legs, didn’t you?” Your tiny, teasing, voice serenades him as he quickly begins to lose control of his composure.

“Shut it,” Ghost grunts, mind yelling at him to move away, “Shut your damn mouth.”

Those pupils were so wide his eyes were almost entirely black, feral chest moving quickly.

“I already know why you snapped at me…” One of your hands travels back to the Lieutenant’s front, skin tingling at the scratch of a belt and the rough fabric of his cargos. You leave it over his crotch and add a tight amount of pressure; mouth lightly opening at the weight and size of him as Ghost grunts deeply, thighs jerking forward.

Blinking at his glassy eyes you breathe out into thick air and the veiled threat of something more. His hand in your hair is so tight that you feel your pulse under the tendrils—you enjoy every second of this cat-and-mouse game.

After all, no one knew who the mouse was yet.

You rub your hand up and down and watch Ghost’s clothed dick, feeling his muscles straining to keep himself in control. He lets you continue as he watches with a clenched jaw, his pants getting gradually wet with precum; hips twitching.

“...You can’t get enough of me touching you, can you?” Your statement ignites something immediately, and you’re being grabbed by your shoulders and forced to your feet.

Staring wildly, you cringe at the soaking patch under your clothes but let Ghost place your backside on the table. He presses into your hips to keep you there—legs opened and feet planted to the floor below on their tip-toes.

The man breathes like a lion, nose in front of yours. You slightly smirk at the far-off haze in his eyes, lust and pleasure blending and bleeding into the almost bruising hold he uses to press you down.

He watches you for a minute or two—taking in your scent and the rabid instinct that infects the both of you now that everything was on the table.

You knew you were right; he knew you were right. Licking your lips you look down and stare at his blatant hard-on hungrily. Your brow raises slowly.

“You going to let me take care of that, Ghosty?” He’s up and locking the door after he slims it shut.

“This is it,” Ghost grunts, “one time, Masque. That’s fucking it, you hear?”

“Awe,” You cue, swishing your legs as he stomps back over, hand grasping his belt and whipping it off with a flex of his forearm. Your core tightens, hips trying to press back into the table. “That's so cute. You think once is enough.”

A hand captures your jaw, “I said,” he breathes, the other hand going to shift up the bottom of his mask up to his nose. You gasp at the sight of blond stubble and milky scars. A strong jaw wound like a spring. Ghost’s musk invades your nose and you feel your palms so clammy. “...Shut it.”

Hard lips slam into yours.

Like some game between the two of you, your mouths fight one another with aggressive grunts stuck in your throats, sharp inhales of air between partings. Ghost’s lips mold and conform to yours, clinging around the supple flesh—there’s a deep-rooted intensity, a hunger, and a desire mixed with sweet stubbornness. The tang of metal and old canvas opens to you just as your mouth does when his teeth bite down at your skin.

Quickly sucking down breaths, you feel his tongue push past layers and slip into your awaiting clutch; Ghost groans lowly and explores as his hands bare down into your hips, one making its way to grip at your hair again. Your own dig into his waist as he leans over you.

He latches onto your hair and peels you back from him, tongue sliding out of your mouth as he moves to nip at your chin—angling your head whichever way he wants to. Your skin burns as the man bites down at your neck, hot saliva stuck to your lips as your chest pants fast with a low whine at the mixture of pain and bliss.

Below you, your legs are wide to allow Ghost to stand between you, his firmness leaving your hips canting at every hickey he leaves behind and how he shivers into you as you move against him. It was addicting to him—your taste and how your flesh yields to him as he clamps down on it ruthlessly and rapidly. In no time he’d traveled the length of the area behind your ear and down the swell of your shoulder; shirt pushed back by his nose.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, eyes glassy as you blankly stare into the far wall over the Lieutenant’s shoulder; your panties are soaked through and the evidence can be felt. A long whine exits your chest when Ghost licks at the deep marks he left behind, blown eyes coming back to stare at you head-on as if in a trance.

His lips are red and swollen, mouth open with silent, fast, breaths. His large chest moves quickly over yours. He orders you in a hoarse voice; strained, “Get on your knees.”

Licking your lips your widened gaze stays locked on his, the hand in your hair tight and keeping you away from slamming your mouth back to his. The air is electric, both of your bodies yielding to one another's even if you don’t realize it.

As much as you wanted to scoff and roll your eyes at the comment, to make him apologize to you for what he’s done, you realize that your body has already complied with the request. Slipping off the table, Ghost watches like a hawk and backs up two steps—feet splayed as you move for him. Your knees slowly lower you down to the floor, connecting with the carpet as you sag, fists clenched and shaking.

There’s a small, heart-pounding, pause. “...Good girl.”

Your jaw drops at the smirk on Ghost’s face and those flashing dead eyes of his, blood thumping with a newly ingrained need. You swallow and feel your throat bob; legs shifting to push back the inner-body itch that grows by the second.

“Now you can listen to me, yeah? Such a slut for it.” Ghost’s hands slowly trail to his pant’s zipper, sliding the piece down the teeth with barely audible metal on metal. Your fingers twitch at every small pop; how the zipper itself had to move forward with the strain of his sizable erection. You can’t even look away from it—how his pants are stiff against tense thighs and the sleeves of his shirt are rucked up to show the black ink of tattoos.

Ghost had tattoos.

When the teeth had run out and the man’s hands grappled for the waistband of both his cargo and his boxers, you’d found out you’d been staring the entire time, pupils so wide they matched Ghost’s and the black stain of his face-paint.

“Fuckin’ hell, Masque,” he grunts, knuckles white and going still, “bet your pretty little cunt is soaked and I ‘aven’t even shown you my bloody dick yet, eh? Well, the thing’ll ‘ave to wait, I’m puttin’ that mouth to good use first. Teaching it who to listen to.”

You startle back, blinking away the burning heat on your cheeks that leaves you uncharacteristically stuttering at the vulgar degradation. But Ghost doesn’t notice, doing what he can to move the various straps along his thighs and his upper hips to be able to free himself quickly—eager and dripping to be down your throat.

The throat and mouth he’d fantasized about for ages.

Stiffing down a whiny moan, you finally see the veiny girth of Ghost’s cock as it comes free over the top of the tight white cotton of his boxers; a happy trail extending up his visible abdomen when his wrist snatches it out.

“Put to good use?” You breathe out, “Christ, you’re going to make me fucking mute, Ghosty.”

“Well, Sweetheart,” he breathes a sigh of relief as he plays with the leaking tip with his thumb. Your hands itch to brush against your achy clit, the pressure in your chest almost enough to make you sob at the sheer nothingness. Sweat glistens over your forehead. Eyes glare at you as you watch thighs tense and loosen. “That’ll be fine by me. Don’t need you speaking when I’m paintin’ your damn cunt with my cum, do I?”

Jesus, you both were in the fucking meeting room. Going to fuck in the meeting room.

You lick your lips and stare as Ghost stalks close again, gripping your chin and opening your jaw with his thumb and first finger. His dick was right in front of you, and you can smell sex and sweat like an animalistic aphrodisiac as it coats your brain with lust as you moan out.

Your arms tense with a want to reach and touch it, watch as Ghost falls apart below the twist of your wrist. It was so addictive you feel yourself clench at the visual, your body shivering violently.

“Oi, fucking focus.” Your tongue sneaks out and licks Ghost’s finger and he feels his grip tighten on you with a puff of hot air. “Little brat.”

He stares into your mouth and breathes deeply as a smirk peels the edges of your lip. Blue swirls with anticipation.

“Keep it open, then.” Ghost’s hand drops from you and you easily keep your mouth open as his hand goes back to his cock, grasping it firmly as the other finds the top of your head. You shiver and shift your thighs under you, your body striking like a drum to oxycontin and adrenaline. “That’s a girl…” The Lieutenant growls, and the tip of his dick slips into your saliva-dripping mouth with hidden fever. “Fuck.”

Your eyes flutter at the taste, letting him maneuver your face closer to the base as your hands snap to his thighs—nails digging in and eliciting a sharp inhale as you press into the two-week-old wound under his pants. Ghost curses under his breath but watches in flooding pleasure at the image of his cock disappearing farther and farther into you. Inch by inch you tell yourself to breathe through your nose; feeling the make of his veins and the mushroomed tip traveling farther and farther back.

Moaning in the base of your neck, Ghost instinctually jerks his hips at the sound, feral grunts trapped in his chest. Your eyes go wide with the prickle of tears, not from pain but from the surprise as you gag. His hold on your hair tightens and you mewl as he continues to lose himself to the feeling of your wet heat.

He was so big it was like your throat was ripping new sinews just for him, and you reveled in every moment of the feeling of his predatory gaze.

“So bloody tight for me—can’t wait to be in that cunt of yours…can’t be better than this. Have to test it.” He talks more when he’s horney.

Slightly gagging again at the sheer size, his palming hand presses you deeper and you take him as well as you’re able, still space between your nose and his pelvis as your knees dig harder into the ground. Ghost groans gutturally, head slightly lulling back and panting like a dog, looking down at your red eyes and far-off gaze. Your hands kneed his upper thighs and he smirks slowly.

Without another word and with sweat staining him under his uniform, bits and bobs from his gear start to clink together and dance as his hips set a rough pace; you find your head being puppeteered back and forth with his thrusts as your scalp flames from his hold. Tears burn immediately.

“Yeah, that’s it—such a good little slut for me, Masque. Gettin’ it down, fuck,” Ghost pants, as you hollow your cheeks, back arching into you and leaving your nostrils flaring to take down air for your spasming lungs. The sight above you was sinful.

Your Lieutenant in full gear, pants and skin-tight boxers stretching and shoved down just under the clutch of his crotch. With every back-and-forth motion, the zipper grazes the underside of your engorged throat as every vein can be undoubtedly seared into your esophagus like a brand.

Ghost’s eyes flutter and flinch, but never once does his hazy gaze leave your mouth as he continues to jerk your head back and forth. Saliva drips drown your chin and the nearly painful burn in your navel lets you know how true this was a relief not only for Ghost but for you as well. You wanted to touch yourself, but you can’t stop touching the Brit—not for a second. Shit, you think you could fall apart just by looking at this; you were sure Ghost was thinking the same thing.

“Look at that, makin’ such a fucking mess of you.” His abdomen tightens and rolls with every jerk and rut, and your eyes roll back with a deep whine in the back of your throat when he hits the back of your throat. Sweat splatters down your temple as the air is steeped with animalistic desperation. Ghost whines thickly in answer and seems to speed up as your hands claw at his thighs. “You like that, pet? Huh? Being my little cock-sleeve.”

Your nails dig deeper into his flesh and he shivers wildly; eyes flash at the sight of himself disappearing into you and exiting just after as the slap of wet skin reverberates. The tension in his chest increases and he starts to desperately kneed at your hair.

“If I’d known you’d take it down like this, I’d-I’d have made you hate me sooner, yeah?” Tension fizzles up his jaw and you know he’s close by how he bites down into his lip and tilts his head back.

Instinctual tears travel down your sweat-slick face, the thought of being used like this vulgar and as dirty as the sounds that echo in your throat and strike down your spine.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost gasps, and his pace stutters as he twists your locks. Your teeth graze along his flesh as you dig your thumb into his wound to steady yourself. Whining loudly, the action seems to get to the man using your mouth for his pleasure, as not three rough thrusts later the warm feeling of his cum splatters the back of your throat in thick, hot, spurts.

Choking for a moment, the widening of your eyes meets Ghost’s fluttering lashes from above. His free hand goes behind you to slam onto the tabletop; back curved over you as he shakes and sputters as he rides out his high.

Cum drips out of the seams of your stretched lips, and with a deep breath through your nose, your hand lowers from Ghost’s thighs as you carefully pull your face back from his pelvis. The sensation of his cock leaving your mouth and bringing saliva and his fluids with it was animalistic at best, they spill to the floor and off of your chin like a small river.

Licking your lips, you swallow what you can and try to catch your breath as your chest rages. Blinking rapidly, your eye twitches as you bring a hand up to your sore and ragged throat, Ghost’s heaving body stiff and hunched as he stares at the table blankly. Sweat dribbles down the side of his nose, sneaking out from under the top side of his mask.

There’s a long minute of nothingness as you both try to breathe and understand the gravity of what you’ve both done. And then you both lock eyes and stare.

The air stills over as Ghost’s large pupils stare at the mess on your face—seeing it drip down your throat as you tilt your chin up to him. His chest purrs like a cat and you don’t even think he realizes that he does it.

Two seconds later you’re being manhandled up to the top of the table, backside hitting it as a hand goes to your belt. Lips connect with yours and groan at the taste, the clinking of metal hitting your ears as you submit to his prodding tongue as it licks along your inner flesh.

Your fingers snap to trail around Ghost’s neck, moaning into him as he slips his hands into your pants, pulling back and ordering, “Up.” Eager and filled with lust, you raise your legs and he rips them down to your knees, dragging you closer to the edge.

“Good girl.” He smirks, black-smeared eyes creased. If you could speak you’d tell him to shut up and fuck you already.

Your slick skin meets the air and you gasp, Ghost’s hands waste no time trailing up the flesh of your hips, pitching to make you jump. Glaring, you try to drag him back into you but he’s built like stone, clicking his tongue. When his fingers collect the fluids that drip out of you, you whimper at the stimulation—two calloused fingers getting entranced by that as they stop at your clit. You stare desperately into amused blue eyes as he pressed deep, your thighs tensing as they jerk.

“Any more of this and you’ll stain the table, won’t you, Sweetheart? I get you this worked up, yeah? Bloody hell.” You pant, and lines form on your forehead at the indecent circling of his fingers; not being gentle as he sees your mouth open and your lungs gasp. Sharp spikes form in your thighs, and they move in tandem with Ghost. “Look at that…”

Deep chuckles mock you, but you both know this has to be fast—and with how worked up you were, it would be.

“Alright, then, brat,” Ghost takes his hand away and you whimper before he grunts and grips you by the shoulders. Your lust turns to confusion. “Suppose you did well. Let’s make this quick, eh? Got work to do.”

Flipped around, you squeak as your clothed chest meets the table, ass presented as your feet scramble to connect with the floor. Surprised, you whip your head to the side to stare back at a highly smug Ghost as one of his hands goes to grab onto your supple flesh, massaging it before it sneaks to your hip.

“Easy with it, I’ll take care of you, Masque.” In little to no time he’s lining himself up with your dripping pussy, so wet it’s easy except for the fact that he’s huge enough to make you mute by a blowjob. Your back arches into the table with a long moan as the length slowly spears you open, instinctually widening your legs as best as you’re able.

Closing your eyes, you press one of your hands to your mouth to stifle your noises, thighs spasming as Ghost curses under his breath; gear clinking into each other.

“So bloody tight.” With a swift thrust and a knock of your pelvis to the edge of the table, your eyes burn with the feeling of holding Ghost in your most intimate area and the knowledge that he would completely wreck it for anyone else. Your lungs fight for air, but a long mewl exits your fingers as the man shakes over you with restraint. “Christ.”

Tight wasn’t the way to describe it—you were like a fucking noose. Your sensitive walls know every vein and bulge, the scrape and dig, far more intimately than your throat ever could. Like a carved stamp, they’re reforming to Ghost’s dick every second.

Tapping the side of your forehead to the table, the man can’t help himself anymore and starts to thrust into you; feral squelching and fluids staining the top of his pants. Your face burns, the rocking of the table hypnotic as your toes fight to stay on the ground. The sensation of being so full truthfully made your mind go blank, fingers twitching as Ghost continued to palm at your hip—his other hand going to press into your spine, keeping you stapled to the table.

His gear slammed and rubbed into your ass, bruising it no doubt, but you found you didn’t care at all. Pleasure rocked down with every ruthless intrusion.

“Can feel ya ‘round my cock,” you keen at the words, tears dribbling down the side of your face as you try to hold back sobs of pleasure. Ghost increases his pace, rabid slapping echoing off the walls as he feels his sole focus on your mind-shattering bliss. “Can’t have ‘em hear how loud you are, now, can we? Can’t let ‘em know I’m shagging you in their meeting room like a little fucktoy, eh?”

He angles his hips higher, pushing your farther up the table as his hands only drag you back. Every moment leaves your core tightening even more; molten heat pooling as the edge gets closer.

Footsteps echo down the hall outside, but both of you are too focused on the other and the ache that only increases like a pair of cuffs. Your mouth lets loose insistent gasps and moans while Ghost breathily groans at every other interval of his ravaging cock as it brushes your cervix.

You whine loudly, spine arching and legs desperately trying to close. Ghost chuckles and your reaction spurs him on—hitting that same spot over and over again as you sob.

“Right there, yeah? That it, Masque?” You nod rapidly, and the Lieutenant's grip tightens with a loud grunt, “Fuck, that’s it, bloody slut.”

The coil in your gut gets tighter, shining with desperate shakes of your body and the numb way you try to meet Ghost’s thrusts before you entirely lose the plot of reality.

“You’re close,” he breathes, feeling your pussy trying to keep him in, slick trailing down the insides of your thighs and transferring to the Brit’s clothes. His boxers were soaked. “C’mon, then. Don’t disappoint me, Masque. Lemme see you cum on my cock before I fill you up like the good girl you are, yeah?”

Your body spasms, thighs tensing and toes curling at the floor; fingers scratching down the table as you press over your mouth harder in a last-ditch effort to remain in control of yourself. The coil snaps and suddenly you’re digging your forehead into the wood below you, orgasm ripping through you like a knife as cum paints Ghost’s dick as he continues his relentless chase of his second release.

“There it is, fuck, look at all that, Love. Paintin’ me like a naughty fuckin’ portrait.” Ghost gasps, a hand coming up to connect to the table by your head, feeling you completely flood his pelvis—he doesn’t stop even when you whine in overstimulation, fucked-out eyes wide and mouth dripping drool into a small pool. The milky ring at his root grows and grows. With a loud moan, he looks down and watches the vulgar sight rabidly, pounding into your heat as his own end gets closer and closer.

“Shite,” His forehead hits your spine, taking the skin into his teeth and biting hickeys as his open mouth leaves trails of saliva. “Took me so bloody well, cunt was made just for me.”

His body shakes and with one last shove from his hips, he spills into you with a loud whimper muffled into your flesh. Teeth biting down so hard that you moan in turn, the spent releases dribble out of you like a stuffed bird. You feel his chest atop you as he places his weight slowly down; the fast-panting mirroring your own.

Sweat connects the two of you as it bleeds through your clothes, the smell in the air and the scent of delirious sex staining your bodies.

Your mouth remains open and hoarse, scraped dry. Ghost above you moves delicately as he pulls back up, moving back to peel your messy hair away from your blown eyes. After a moment his small voice hits you—the accent deep.

“All good?” Your eyes slowly rove to him as he kisses your forehead, shivering violently as he slips out of you; the wet drip of cum hits the carpet in the still silence as you whimper at the feeling. “...Masque?”

Dull concern emanates from his tone and you blink back. You clear your throat and utter in a torn voice, “...P-pretty good apology, Ghosty…S…shit.”

Smugness burns in his orbs, but the roll of his eyes hides it quickly. The puff of his chest couldn’t be hidden from you, though.

His hands reach down and hike up your panties and cargos—both items completely wrecked. The large splotch on Ghost’s own clothes showed you that you weren't alone in that aspect.

As he carefully flips your limp form back over and pulls you up by your arms, you groan in annoyance but shut up when his hands go to zip your zipper and clip back your belt.

“Couldn’t have had a revelation in your barracks room?” You huff, itching at your throat. “You’re buying me cough drops, you ass.” The state of your voice was laughable. Anyone would know what happened if they spoke to you.

Ghost sighs and begins with his own clothes, stuffing himself back into his boxers and growling at the chilled fluids on his pants as he pulls them back up. He goes and retrieves his belt before walking back.

“Acting like you weren’t beggin’ for it.” He slides you a smirk before he grabs onto his mask and begins to cover his jaw.

Your hand snaps out and stops him. Ghost startles, eyes flashing before his muscles stiffen. You raise a brow and he slightly calms.

Scoffing, you lean in and place a final kiss on his lips—a tinier and tender kiss. Gaze wide, the man stares off as his heart starts to beat fast again at the firm press. After you’re done your hand goes up and grasps the fabric yourself, carefully re-shrouding the mystery of a man with a smile.

He watches blankly.

“We okay?” You ask, tilting your head as your lower body aches when you shift on the table. “I miss my annoyingly gruff Ghost. This new one’s a jerk.” A small laugh graces your ears, and it makes you beam. “I know why you did it,” you admit, and hold out a hand between your bodies. “But pushing me away will only hurt the both of us. Let's try this, Ghost. Please.”

“...You’re makin’ it seem like a good deal, Love…is it?” He holds out a hand of his own, large and scarred hands that had gripped you so tight before utterly loose and awaiting.

“No clue,” you admit with a smirk, “Wanna figure it out?” Ghost watches as he always does and always will, searching into your eyes for any hint of hesitance or denial.

“Always liked a challenge.” He grunts and encompasses his hand with yours. You squeeze it and nod, chest light as your normal breath comes back.

“You know what a real challenge is? Trying to take down your fucking dic—” The meeting room handle jiggles and you both snap into action.

Ghost tosses you your notepad and you slide a shoved-away chair his way on shaky legs, slipping into a free seat with failing knees. You both sit side by side on the opposite side of the table, shoulders bumping and faces hot not three seconds later. Ears twitch at the sound of a key entering the slot.

You try to act normal and begin messing around with your notepad, stealing a pen from Ghost’s gear as Price opens the door. At the sight of the two of you, he pauses and stands in the doorway.

“Ghost…Masque.” With a squint, Price looks around the room slowly, confused at the rod-straight spine from his Lieutenant and the way you awkwardly scribble nothing onto your pad.

“Price,” Ghost utters as you look up and fake smile, waving as you tighten your hips under the table in an attempt to hide the evidence spilling out of you.

The Captain continues to stare, scrutiny in his eyes, for at least a full minute.

“Problem, then?” The Lieutenant asks. Price’s lips thin and he gains a sheen of deep annoyance. You groan under your breath and knock your head to the table at the next comment.

“In the fucking meeting room?!”

TAGS:

@emerald-valkyrie , @anna-banana27 , @blueoorchid , @cryingnotcrying , @writeforfandoms , @homicidal-slvt , @jade-jax , @frazie99 , @elmoees , @littlemisstrouble , @alpineswinter , @phoenixhalliwell , @idocarealot , @lavalleon , @facelessmemories , @h-leigh, @20forty9 , @glitter-anon-asks , @emily-who-killed-a-man , @neelehksttr, @aeneanc , @escapefromrealitysm , @i-d-1-0-t , @pparcxysm , @hawkscanendme , @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney , @sanfransolomitatm , @maelstrom007 , @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet , @pheobees , @glitterypirateduck , @uselsshuman , @fan-of-encouragement , @halfmoth-halfman , @ghostlythunderbird , @I-inkage, @pukbadger , @kopatych11 , @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop , @knightofsexyness , @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons , @330bpm-whiplash , @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu , @tiredmetalenthusiast

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dontyouworrydaddy · 2 years ago

Note

First of all, let me tell you about how much I love your blog and your writing style. Your fics quality is top notch and I giggle like an idiot every time I see a new post from you. So, if it's ok with you can you write about our favorite COD men (including daddy Konig and Simon) whose SO keeps getting texts from her asshole ex - some of them begging to take him back and others borderline threatening, like "who's that dude you're dating now? You think you can replace me that easily?" etc. And our boys accidentally see these texts. How would they react to that situation? Thank you so much :)

𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒

Task Force 141 (+König) x fem! reader

You have no idea how much I appreciate these kind words. Like you literally just made me CRY because I‘m so happy to hear that. You guys motivate me to keep writing fr🫶🏻🫶🏻😭 I love you so much and I‘m so thankful to you! 🩷🩷🩷🩷

Also I love the idea oh my god. I can imagine them being super mad at him and be like as soon as she’s sleeping I‘m gonna haunt that mf and be super caring and not leaving your side until you’re okay again. AHHHH I have so many ideas I can’t put them all into words😮‍💨😫😫

I hope you enjoy this fanfic! Thank you again for the kind words, I really do appreciate it❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

➽───────────────❥

König

König found himself in a situation he hadn't anticipated. As he and you went about your daily lives, a series of text messages from your ex started flooding your phone. König couldn't help but catch glimpses of these messages, each one more distressing than the last.

I know you miss me

I still have that red dress from you…

You can stop acting like you don’t need me anymore and just come back ;)

You date insecure guys now? Wow Y/N… I mean I knew I was the best for you but I didn’t expect that low from you

I saw you the other day… You got a lot sexier ;))

I miss you so much baby. I love you…

They were filled with toxic words, attempting to undermine the happiness you had found with König.

Upon stumbling upon these messages, König's usually calm and composed demeanor wavered, replaced by a mix of concern and protectiveness. He couldn't fathom why someone would target you in such a hurtful way and it stirred a fire within him that burned with a fierce determination to shield you from harm.

His grip tightened around his phone as he confronted you, his voice laced with worry. "Schatz, what is this? Who is sending you these messages?" His eyes searched yours, a mix of anger and concern burning in their depths. But he wasn’t angry at you. He was more angry at himself because he feels like he failed as a boyfriend. His only mission is to make you feel comfortable and it feels like he failed at it. Because you didn’t talk to him…

You took a deep breath, realizing that the time had come to open up and share the painful truth. "It's my ex. He's been unable to let go and now he's trying to sabotage our relationship. I've been trying to handle it on my own, but it's becoming overwhelming."

The weight of your words settled between you, the gravity of the situation sinking in. König's protective instincts kicked into high gear as he reached out, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "Liebling" he whispered, his voice filled with determination, "You don't have to face this alone. I'm here for you and together we'll navigate through this storm."

His words were like a balm to your soul, offering solace and reassurance in a world that felt suddenly tumultuous. You found strength in his unwavering support, knowing that you didn't have to battle your ex's toxicity alone.

With each new text that appeared on your phone, König became even more resolved to protect you. He devised a plan to confront your ex, making it clear that his attempts to sow discord and threaten your happiness would not be tolerated.

But König's reaction wasn't solely driven by anger. It was driven by love and a deep understanding of the pain you were experiencing. He knew that these messages were more than just words on a screen…they were emotional daggers that pierced your heart. And he will make sure that your ex will never bother you again. Trust him.

Simon Riley

In the midst of it all the chaos he‘s been through, there was you, a source of light and solace that gave his dead life light. The two of you navigated the challenges of life together, an unwelcome presence lingered, threatening to disrupt the tranquility you had built.

But you were constantly tormented by text messages from your ex Josh. The messages were a relentless barrage of mixed emotions, ranging from desperate pleas for reconciliation to menacing threats aimed at undermining your newfound happiness. It was a constant reminder of a past you were trying to move beyond. It was always him trying to manipulate you into leaving Simon and go back to him.

One fateful evening, as you lay beside Simon, your phone illuminated with yet another message from your ex. Simon, ever vigilant and protective, caught a glimpse of the text and as soon as he read the words "I still think about you when I’m on my bed alone", anger flashed in his eyes. He knew about your crazy ex.

Concern etched across his face as he realized the torment you had been enduring in silence. You turn your phone around and looked up at Simon. So many emotions were written on his face that made you tear up.

Carefully, Simon pulled you into his arms, offering a comforting embrace. His touch was gentle, his voice soothing as he reassured you that you were safe with him. In that moment, he became your shield, determined to protect you from the darkness that lurked in your past.

As you drifted off to sleep, exhaustion finally claiming you, Simon's heart swelled with a mixture of tenderness and anger. He couldn't bear to see you suffer any longer. Resolute, he rose from the bed, leaving you in peaceful slumber and made his way to confront the source of your personal torture.

Due to his Job, it was easy for him to find out where he was living. And with determination etched upon his features, Simon found himself standing outside your ex's residence. He had no intention of resorting to violence, but his presence alone was enough to unnerve the cowardly individual who had been preying on your vulnerability.

As the door swung open, revealing your ex's face, a mix of surprise and fear washed over him. Before he could utter a single word, Simon's voice rang out with authority. "Leave her alone mate. If you ever come near her again, you'll regret it. And I‘m not a man to play fucking games with"

Josh felt the weight of Simon's unwavering resolve, cowered beneath his gaze. Fear clouded his eyes as he stammered out a half-hearted apology. Without further hesitation, Simon turned on his heel and walked away, leaving your ex to contemplate the consequences of his actions.

Meanwhile, back at home, you stirred awake, finding Simon by your side, his gaze filled with comfort and love. Wordlessly, he climbed back into bed, pulling you close, and kissed your forehead with a mix of gentleness and possessiveness.

"I won't let anyone hurt you," Simon whispered, his voice filled with a fierce protectiveness. "You're safe with me. Always."

In that moment, you knew that Simon was not only your lover but your guardian, a force that would go to any lengths to shield you from harm. And as you drifted back into a peaceful sleep, your heart swelled with gratitude, knowing that you were truly cherished by the man who would stop at nothing to keep you safe.

John MacTavish

You felt a mixture of frustration and fear as your ex continued to invade your life. The messages ranged from desperate pleas for reconciliation to thinly veiled threats, designed to unsettle and intimidate you. The constant reminders of your past were enough to make anyone's heart race and palms sweat.

One chance. Please baby.

Are you really dating a scottish man? You‘ve sunk so low.

One evening, as you and John were relaxing together, the barrage of texts became too much to bear. With a heavy sigh, you pulled out your phone, revealing the string of toxic messages that had invaded your peaceful sanctuary.

I will have you back, I‘m waiting baby.

John's eyes widened as he read the manipulative words that spilled across the screen. Without hesitation, John wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. He understood the fear and turmoil that consumed you and he was determined to be your shield, protecting you from the pain of your past. His voice, laced with a mixture of concern and determination, filled the room.

"Baby" John spoke softly, "I won't let him hurt you anymore. You're safe with me, and I'll do whatever it takes to ensure that."

His comforting words and his strong embrace provided a temporary respite from the torment. As exhaustion claimed you, sleep finally descended upon your weary mind and body. Unbeknownst to you, John's resolve had been steeled.

As you slept, John quietly slipped away, his footsteps echoing with purpose as he made his way towards your ex's location. The darkness of the night seemed to amplify the intensity of his emotions. Anger simmered beneath his stoic exterior, a force ready to be unleashed upon the person who had dared to threaten the newfound happiness he shared with you.

John's arrival sent a shockwave through your ex's world. The smug arrogance that had permeated his messages quickly evaporated as he realized the true extent of John's determination. Fear replaced bravado, and he attempted to escape from the formidable soldier who now stood before him.

But there was no escape. John, fueled by a protective instinct, pursued your ex relentlessly, his presence an indomitable force that left no room for evasion. "Text my girl ever again and oh boy you wish your mom never gave birth to you" Cornered and overwhelmed, your ex succumbed to his fear and fled, leaving behind the remnants of a broken ego.

As John returned to your side, a mix of relief and admiration washed over him. The confrontation had served its purpose: to ensure your safety and send a clear message to anyone who dared to threaten your peace of mind.

You awoke to find John by your side, his features softened by the moonlight that filtered through the window. His eyes met yours, filled with a blend of tenderness and determination.

"He won't bother you again," John assured you, his voice unwavering. "I'll always protect you, no matter what."

In that moment, as you gazed into the depths of John's unwavering devotion, you knew that you were not alone. With him by your side, you felt a renewed sense of strength and security.

John Price

You had tried to move on from the toxic relationship that had left scars on your heart. But your ex refused to let go, bombarding you with text messages that ranged from desperate pleas to borderline threats. Each message chipped away at your sense of peace and security.

One evening, as you sat with John, sharing the burden of your past, a notification flashed across your phone screen. The words that appeared before you were a cruel reminder of the darkness that still lingered.

Who's that dude you're dating now? You think you can replace me that easily?

Your heart sank as you realized John had caught a glimpse of the message. The look in his eyes, a mix of concern and anger, mirrored the tumultuous emotions raging within you.

John's voice was steady, but determination laced his words. "Baby, I can't stand by and let this continue. He needs to understand that his behavior is unacceptable and that he must leave you alone."

A mix of fear and relief washed over you, knowing that John would go to such lengths to protect you. You nodded, your voice barely a whisper. "I want to move on and leave this behind. But it’s getting so difficult" All night he did nothing but hold you as you cried because the memories kept adding up. And John did nothing but kiss and hold you the entire night.

The next morning, as the sun painted the sky with shades of gold, John prepared to leave for what appeared to be a simple grocery shopping.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly as you waited, anxiety and anticipation mingling within you. Hours passed and just when doubt threatened to seep into your thoughts, you heard the familiar sound of John's footsteps approaching the door.

His face bore the signs of a confrontation, his eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and determination. John took you in his arms, holding you tightly, as if to shield you from the remnants of the past that clung to your spirit.

"He won't bother you again" he whispered, his voice filled with an unyielding resolve. "I made it clear that his actions were unacceptable. He knows the consequences if he dares to cross that line." and you knew that he went over and made it clear to him to never text you ever again.

Tears welled in your eyes, a mix of gratitude and relief streaming down your cheeks. You gazed into John's eyes, overwhelmed by the love and protection he offered so selflessly.

"I don't know how to thank you, John," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "You've given me a sense of safety and peace that I thought I had lost forever."

His grip tightened, his voice a comforting reassurance. "You don't have to thank me, my love. It's what love does. It protects and empowers. I won't let anyone hurt you, not while I'm here."

Kyle Garrick

You stood there, reading the text messages that illuminated your phone screen, each word like a dagger to your heart. The messages from your ex, filled with desperation and anger were a painful reminder of a past you desperately wanted to forget. His words were like poison, seeping into your thoughts and threatening to unravel the happiness you had found with Kyle. The man you want to share your life with.

Just as you were about to put your phone away, hoping to bury the unsettling messages deep within your mind, you heard a gasp from behind you. Turning, you saw Kyle, his eyes fixated on the screen, his face a mix of concern and anger.

"Love?" he murmured, his voice laced with sympathy and a fire burning within, "I didn't realize you were going through this. I'm so sorry."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him, the pain of the messages threatening to overwhelm you. But Kyle, ever the steadfast protector, closed the distance between you, wrapping his strong arms around you in a comforting embrace.

His words, infused with a fierce protectiveness, resonated within you. As he held you close, you felt a sense of safety and reassurance wash over you, erasing the fear and uncertainty that had plagued your heart.

Days passed and Kyle prepared for his next mission, a dangerous assignment that would take him away from you for a while. But before he left, he made a promise to himself, and to you. He would confront your ex, ensuring that he never dared to disturb your peace again.

As he set out on his mission, he carried with him the weight of your trust and the burning desire to protect you from harm. And when the time came, bruised and battered, he sought out your ex, determined to make him understand the consequences of his actions.

Face to face, Kyle confronted the man who had caused you so much pain, his eyes ablaze with an unwavering resolve. Your ex, taken aback by the sight of Kyle's injuries, cowered before him, realizing the severity of his actions. He pleaded for mercy, promising to leave you alone for good.

Kyle’s voice filled with an authority that brooked no argument, made it clear that any further harassment or threat would be met with severe consequences.

When he finally returned home, weary but determined, you met him at the door. The weight of the past seemed to dissolve as he enveloped you in his arms, the warmth of his embrace erasing the remnants of fear and doubt. In that moment, you knew that together, you could face anything.

After seeing him all bruised up but with a smile on his face, you couldn’t help but jump into his arms. In his embrace, you found healing. The scars of the past fading into insignificance compared to the love that bloomed between you. Together, you would face the challenges that lay ahead, fortified by the strength of your bond and the knowledge that no matter what, you were not alone.

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empresskylo · 2 years ago

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would you do headcanons if price was readers boyfriend?! 🫶🫶😮‍💨

↳ yuuhhh i gotchuu 🫶

⋆｡°✩ CONTENT WARNINGS | afab!reader, she/her pronouns used, feminine pet names used, smutty content at the end

cod masterlist | main masterlist

♡ such the gentleman. he asked you out on a proper date when he realized you both were feeling something for one another. even tho it’s really hard to do/find the time whilst working, he managed to do something cute for you.

♡ possessiveeeee! even before you were dating, when he knew he liked you, he’d act all possessive over you. all the other men knew to stay away from you or they’d get on price's bad side (they’re so dramatic). so even now, he likes to have his claim over you and makes sure everyone knows you’re his.

♡ that doesn't mean the men didn't tease him a lil bit--and by men, i mean gaz. he would team up with you a lot, or be a lil extra touchy with you in front of price, just to see him get pissed. but price couldn't really do much about it because you two weren't dating and you didn't even know he was into you like that. ♡ gaz looked at you, smirking, and you felt one of your eyebrows raise. he walked closer to you and decided to help you get situated for your upcoming mission. he was giving you a hand in securing your tactical gear, making the process go faster, when price approached. "I think she's got it." gaz looked up at him and gave him a knowing smile. "just trying to speed things up, cap." price's jaw tightened, having no choice but to keep moving unless he wanted to explain just why he was annoyed at gaz doing something so innocent as helping you.

♡ speaking of being possessive, he is also very proud to be with you. he doesn’t find the need to keep your relationship a secret even if he knows people will judge you both for it (you’re so much younger, he’s your superior, etc). he wants everyone to know.

♡ and he’s not afraid of some pda. he’ll give you little kisses randomly that catch you off guard (especially if you’re a soldier under his rank). there have been times when the others teased you about it. obviously, price didn’t care, but you always got flustered. “i’ll be back at the barrics,” price directed to you and soap who both gave him a curt nod. price leaned down towards you and before you could question him, he placed a kiss on your lips. he smirked when he pulled away, your eyes wide, your face warming. price turned to leave and soap burst into a fit of giggles. “ugh, how old are you?” you asked soap irritated, but your cheeks were inflamed and your heart was racing with something similar to embarrassment. ♡ he’s possessive, but not in an over-the-top way. like he’s not gonna freak out if he sees you talking to another guy, or if you’re wearing something skimpy. my guy is secure in himself (maybe even a little too much sometimes) and he knows no one is quite as good as him. he doesn’t worry about you leaving him.

♡ uses all the pet names for you. you were honestly impressed he managed to find so many to call you. love, doll, baby, sweet girl, baby girl, princess, lass, honey, babe, little one, brat, pet, kitten (you may have threw a shoe at him when he called you that), queen, lovely, sweetness, sweetheart, sunshine. the list goes on.

♡ he also began to call you such random shit that makes you laugh. munchkin, cutest lil lady, little foot, shorty, pipsqueak. (basically anything silly that gave off dad energy)

♡ keeps polaroids of you in his wallet <3

♡ had your name engraved in his favorite knife. also has your name engraved on a simple silver bracelet that he always wears.

♡ speaking of jewelry, he got you a locket with a picture of the two of you in it. you gave it to him to wear once when he was gonna be away from you for quite a while. he never took it off.

♡ he likes to get you flowers all the fucking time. roses, peonies, tulips, the whole lot. you’ve run out of places to put them.

♡ has been known to squat when he sees you getting tired and refusing to move until you get on his back so he can carry you.

♡ whenever he wraps his arms around you--usually when he’s spacing out--he pulls you into his chest and rests his chin on your head. his fingers will fiddle with the hem of your shirt and give you goosebumps at the tiny tickles on your skin.

♡ really likes to cuddle. he’s always reaching for you when you sit or lie down together. he wants to pull you into him. he likes to be the big spoon. you always wake up tangled in each others arms.

♡ he always lets you wear his clothes. he actually prefers it when you do. you sleep in his t-shirt. you’ll wear his hoodies. if it’s cold out he’ll take his coat off and wrap you in it. or sometimes he’ll let you wrap your arms around him and then he’ll wrap his coat around the both of you.

♡ he always falls asleep first. he'll have you pulled into his chest as you both watch tv and honestly, like 10 minutes will go by and you'll say something and he wont respond. when you tilt your head up you notice he's already out cold.

♡ and even tho he's asleep, like a superpower he can sense when you move away from him. so if you try to get up, his grip on you tightens and he'll pull you into him, rolling over with you trapped in his arms.

♡ he is always up first too. and he will often times bring you breakfast or coffee in bed. if he has to leave before you, you'll wake to find a hot coffee or tea sitting on your nightstand waiting for you.

♡ he is obsessed with your hair. he's always stroking it, or tucking it behind your ear. he likes to run his fingers through it when you're cuddling or when you're hugging him tightly. he loves when you let him wash it too.

♡ you asked him to brush it for you once while you were getting ready one day and he was just standing there watching you. he did so and was very gentle and took his time. ever since then, he loves when you let him brush your hair. it's such a random but intimate act for him.

NSFW CONTENT BELOW

♡ pleasure dom! he is super dominant in bed but is also really in tune with your body and making sure you're always enjoying yourself. he gets off by getting you off.

♡ he’s really good at making you come. like, you'd think he made it his life's mission to make you feel good. and seeing you in pleasure is what always gets him going. he cant finish unless he watches you finish first.

♡ he’s so good at what he does that he’s been known to get you off over your clothes. it takes him no time at all to make you come if he wants. usually he likes to drag it out tho. and he likes to overstimulate you.

♡ nights will oftentimes consist of you fully naked while he fingers you, having already orgasmed once, and him still fully clothed. something about that power dynamic drives him crazy.

♡ he softly degrades you. “look how fuckin’ desperate you are for me, love” “this what you’ve been thinkin’ bout all day? my fingers thrusting inside you, hm? nothing else going on in that pretty little head of yours.” “oh, com’on princess, you know you have to come at least twice before i’ll give you my cock. so are you gonna be a good girl and come on my tongue one more time? yeah, i know you can handle it.”

♡ likes to hold your hand during sex. he’s eating you out? his hand is laced with one of yours. you’re sucking his dick? he grabs your hand and traces patterns aimlessly, trying not to come too fast. he’s fucking you missionary? either one or both of his hands are locked with yours. he’s fucking you from behind? he’s pulled you up against his chest, covering your hand resting against your stomach with his own.

♡ he likes when you give him blow jobs. and he enjoys praising you during it, watching as you clench your thighs from his panting words.

♡ you’ll have his cock in your mouth and he’s muttering how good you feel. he hunches over, his arms lazily resting over your shoulders, his forehead resting against the top of yours. he’ll groan and grunt, “fuck, baby, that feels so good.” “god, don’t stop, love.” “look what you do to me.” “i’m gonna fuck you so hard after this, baby.”

#cod #cod headcanons #ghost cod #fluff #angst #cod mw2 #john price x reader #john price cod #john price smut #smut #captain price smut #captain price #john price headcanons #john price #captain price headcanons #captain price x reader #price x reader #john price x you

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lay-z · 3 days ago

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I just liiive for sub Ghost because he just turns into a puppy (a 6'4 puppy but still). He will whine, whimper. Cuddle him and he will melt. Follows you anywhere. And if you give attention to someone else he'll get veery close to you and put a hand on your hip because he's yours and you are his owner.

Anywayyy hope you are ok, sending you support.

~🍓~

sub!Simon is just so—ugh 😮‍💨🥴

Imagine domming him in his office while visiting him on base.

He's all geared up or in his fatigues, barking orders at some rookies like the scary Ghost he portrays to the public while you're standing back, watching with a sweet smile, already daydreaming about making him whimper with the barest of your touch, cooing praises into his ear until he cums way too fast with a flush on his pale cheeks. Fucking lovely. 🙂

#🍓 anon #cod ask #sub!simon riley #simon ghost riley

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

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NOOOOOO!!!

But that toxic!price that leaves money after sex... omg it was devastating (probably has other women too)😮‍💨

he cycles through others like one does pants but you're the one he comes back to. he'll literally be done with one, like still tying the laces of his shoes as he texts you if you're up.

if you are, you resist, telling him that you're no one's back up plan. depending on how upset you are, he either coaxes you into letting him see you. just for a cuddle, love. missed my girl.

or he begs. shamelessly so. how you're all he could think about while in urzikstan (surprisingly not a lie) and you're always his first choice. (implying he has choices.) please let him make it up to you, he'll do whatever you want. (except stay over when you ask him to 😭)

if you're asleep, he lets himself into your home and slinks into your bedroom like a shadow because he wants to make sure you're home and not out with some undeserving bloke.

god help you if you're on a date. seriously. he will embarrass anyone involved. brings in the goon squad in full gear just to have the unsuspecting victim physically removed from the property before they all sit down at the nice dinner table. if you wanted company, you could've just said so.

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a66-1 · 1 year ago

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HI OMG i just read all your stuff and theyre so GOOD AGHH!;!3)2):&;&??? and for any requests how about another docile!simon because hes SOO CUTE IM IN LOOVEE or a childhood!best friend 😮‍💨😮‍💨

crying and throwing up bc AHH

tysm omg..

it's giving I should do both of these

Childhood bestfriend!Simon (who's a docile soul) x Reader.

a/n: major fluff ❤️

what was a661 listening to? (Homesick by Noah Kahan, Sugar Sweet by Benson Boone, Young Blood by Noah Kahan, Like Real People Do by Hoizer)

Unedited and not proofread

Simon and you go way back, and I mean way back. You knew this boy since he learned how to tie his shoe. (Unsurprisingly you had to teach him because what the heck are you doing to the laces?)

You lived slightly south of Manchester, and only really saw Simon when your parents met up every month or so, but you and Simon were essentially locked at the hip when you two were around each other. Pinkies bound together as you walked around the pond, watching the swans swim in the water. His smile was always so.. Soft. Never a big, excited smile. One where you knew he was comfortable.

His older brother always scoffed at the two of you, opting to stick by his parents and yours as they sat on a bench, as they talked amongst themself. Simon Unhooked his pinkie from yours as he bent by a few rocks, looking through them.

"Hey, come 'ere." He gestured you over. You crouched next to him. He picked a few weed flowers, and plopped on the ground to tie the bottoms together. When he was done, he handed them to you.

"There! For you. They're really pretty." He smiled softly, as you took them. You laughed quietly, and hugged him.

"Thank you, Si." You said quietly, before pecking his cheek. You heard your mom yell at you to get your hands off eachother, as you two are only 8 and 10.

You two separate, and walk back over to your parents. Simon had a pink hue to his cheeks, but nothing he couldn't not excuse as sunburn.

Once you got in your rickety car back to your house, it's not like you knew you'd never see him again. You were packed and already on the plane 3 weeks later.

The absolute meltdown you had in the airport had your mom threatening to ductape your mouth shut, and you're pretty sure you cried all the way to America.

You lift your head, noticing your spot in line has moved up, again. You shift forward, a basket of food in your arms. You got your own places little over a year ago. Freedom feels.. Great, actually, nobody is on your ass and you can freely drive anywhere without a 'where tf are you??' text.

You get to the register, and give a polite nod and 'I'm good, and you?' Your accent still catches a few people off guard. Fucking hell, this state is absolute shit sometimes. Just because some people aren't the same as you, you don't gotta be weird about it-

It's not even like it's heavy, it's just slightly there. Growing up with the most British parents in a very not British town has got your accent all odd, but if anyone from Manchester heard you, they might be able to decipher you.

You take your bags and walk to your car, loading it. Just one more thing in the list... Ah, the pet shop. The place isn't far, so you lock your car and start your walk on the way there.

A few Military officers stand a block away, across the street. They don't look quite American, in all actuality, isn't that the flag from-

You abruptly run into someone. Fuck. God, why don't you keep your eyes open every once in a while? You take a step back, rubbing your nose. Crap, they had a hard fucking chest, because your nose feels half broken.

"My bad, I'm so sorry-" You glance up to notice an military officer. You stand straighter, noticing the Union Jack flag. The guy has gear on, and a.. Ghost mask? A bavaclava, I'm pretty sure, and some eye black.

"It's.." He squints, pausing, before continuing, "Fine. It's fine."

That's an accent if you've heard one. God, it's familiar as crap, you know you've heard it before. Which parents had that accent again? Sounds like.. Jack's parents were more west...

"You uh.. You from here?" He gruffly asks, "Can tell you got an accent."

You shake your head, "I was born in Manchester, moved when I was 8, give or take."

His eyes widen this time, before cursing. He turns to the group of men further down, and throws a hand signal. They nod, and continued a conversation they were having.

"Oh? I had a friand who uh.. Who.." He hesitated, but he slipped off his mask.

"Who did that too."

You stared doe eyed at him. "Simon?"

That blonde hair is impossible to forget. You choke on a laugh, before grabbing his face. His nose is definitely different, but it looks like shits been broken.

"Holy shit, it's you." He smiled. Fucking hell, his smile.

"Jesus! What're you doing here, I mean- I-I never thought we'd-" You cut yourself off with a laugh, before hugging him tightly, your hands curling into his hair. He swiftly hugged back, rocking you softly. Goddammit, he looks good.

Good, good.

"Oh lovie, you can't understand how happy I am, I remember how you left and.." He stares at you quietly, and frowned. "Never really made another friend like you again."

That made you frown, "Si, you should've made friends! I was just the example!" You throw in a smile, to show him your joking.

You both find yourself laughing together, your hands back on his cheek, his hands on your hips. And.. Some reason naturally, you drifted closer and.. Kissed. Neither of you hesitated, it was swift and you kept his head against yours, and you made sure the kiss was good.

He was good.

You both pulled away, a soft look shared among you too.

"Are we gonna brush past that, or.." He laughed, and hugged you again, swinging you around once. You yelped, and hit his shoulder.

"Put me down!!" You squealed, laughing.

Price glanced over to the two of you, Soap turning as well.

"Tha' there mus' be tha' Bonnie he mentions," Soap nods slightly, smiling for his friend.

"Sure is. I knew he'd take this mission cuz' o' her." Price chuckled softly.

You carded through his hair softly, looking in his eyes.

"I missed you, Si."

AHH THE IINSPO FOR THIS HAD ME SENT WRITING THIS.

Never seen something like this so I feel accomplished not having a clue how to keep going.

TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT!!

Request to get more fun stories like this!

Bye babes!

-a661

#simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon riley x you #simon fluff #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost x you #ghost x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost fluff #simon riley call of duty #call of duty x reader #ghost call of duty #mw2 ghost #a66-1 asks

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prkhaven · 4 months ago

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loll i just read the jayhoon anon work and? why did the person eat? and they aren't a writer? BUT i need YOU to write a drabble on jay with the whole curly wavy hair and him eating reader out bc HESSOFINEIMAKILLMYSELFBUTPLEASEPLEASEPUT HAIRPULLINGHISWAVYHAIROMLIMINSANEFORHIM.

thank you anon and that’s what i’m saying! they did so well and says they aren’t a writer like wow amazing work there😮‍💨

and jay with the permed hair changed lives (it certainly changed mine) but you ask you shall receive

warnings: smut minors do not interact, in the car, oral (f rec.), sweet/dirty talk, kissing, nicknames (baby and good girl)

─────────୨ৎ──────────

When Jay came to pick you up after his hair appointment, you expected him to return back to you with the usual undercut and shortened hair.

You didn’t expect to see the fluffy curls resting on his head as he looked at himself in the sun visor, plucking at the hair with a light frown until he heard the click of the car door snatching him from his reflection.

Quickly he jumbled out of the car and hastily made his way around the car, closing it shut before reopening for you to step into the passenger seat. He closed the door behind you before calmly walking back.

The black sleek of his button up and trousers blended perfectly, the jewelry hanging from his wrist as he lightly tapped at the hood, his head looking around making sure it was safe to cross before opening the driver’s seat.

He looked over at you with a smile, his hands resting on the gear shift and steering wheel, “You look lovely today. Our reservation is in a few but I was thinking about-“ He couldn’t finish his sentence when you pulled his head and smashed your lips onto his

Letting a surprised yelp, his hands instinctively held your waist tightly as you hummed loudly into the kiss. “Who did your hair?” You pecked at his lips

Jay smiled widely as he accepted your kisses, “My usual stylist wasn’t there- Had to go with someone new”

“Drop your old stylist” You kissed at his jaw, tracing the sharp outline of it

He hummed as you softly sucked at his skin, his rough but smooth hands ran up your side as he weakly nodded, “Alright”

And somehow not even 5 minutes later, in a secluded area that Jay rushed to way too quickly that you were sure he almost ran a red.

The car was parked, passenger seat pushed as far back as possible as it leaned into a tilt while Jay sat in front of you, your panties pushed to the side as he messily lapped around your folds.

You whined loudly as your hand tugged at the curls of his hair, loving the feel of the soft bumps in his hair as your fingers curled around the strands. “Like my hair?” He chuckled rumbling out the vibration throughout your entire body

Your body arched off the seat as you weakly nodded your head before your mouth fell slack as he took a long stride all the way up to your clit. He tugged at the bundle of nerves with his teeth making your yelp.

“I need words- You know how to use them like a good girl” His hands ran up your leg with a smile, “Don’t disappoint me baby”

Lips quivered as you harshly pulled at his hair more, your eyes barely opening as you paid attention for the tussle of the curls. “Absolutely love it” You chuckled

Pleased with your attempted response, he hummed before placing a soft kiss onto your bud before softly sucking on it. Your chest rumbled a pleased sigh as you felt him gently rubbing the folds apart for him to tease at your entrance.

“Don’t tease- Please” You pleaded but he only smirked as he glided his tongue down the strip, splitting your folds apart for him to collect all the slick possible

He didn’t respond to your words only focusing on sucking at one side of your folds as his thumb found a resting point of your clit, softly rubbing at it.

His tongue glided all around, mixing your arousal with his saliva, some of it dripping onto the leather of his seats but it couldn’t think of a better polish for it.

The wet sounds mixed into the confined car, the windows fogging up as your hand weakly raised up to dragged down the window leaving your print in its wake.

“Jay” You called out his name as you watched him, his fluffy head moving around as he allows himself to get lost in the taste of you

“So sweet- Absolutely love you” Your heart fluttered at the words as you squealed when you felt his hands spread you apart even more as his tongue protruded into your hole

He flicked his tongue back and forth, scraping at your gummy walls for all the excess fluid that was trapped. Your squeals grew more, “I’m gonna come- Jay” You warned trying to push yourself away from his head—not wanting to make a mess

Make the biggest mess in his car and he’ll thank you for it.

He sucked harsher, his thumb working even faster, tracing the figure eights on the nerves. The tugs on his hair grew harder as you singled out the strands that were more curly than the others until your ignited a loud moan to rip out of you.

“Make a mess on me baby” He hummed as he helped ride out your high by placing kisses all over your spasming pussy, his eyes watched how you clenched around nothing

He saw how your eyes felt heavy but you tried to look at him and his disheveled hair, the curls sticking out in all directions from the constant touching. The frizz of it made your heart flutter.

The lower half of his face drenched in you as he placed one finally kiss at your core, a softer approach than how it ended. His thumbs rubbed softly as he looked up in between your legs.

His eyes looked up to you, the mess of his hair nearly reaching his eyes as you weak to brushed them away to see him—your finger once again curling the strand to make the bounce of the curl to show even more.

He chuckled softly as he leaned back even closer, an evident mischievous smirk on his face.

“Wanna move it to the back seat?”

——

#lily’s ask #anon #jay with curly hair is for the books

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solradguy · 7 days ago

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tbh everything you said about Unika I agree with, but funny enough it's how many people felt about Sin for the longest time. We're all aware GG's storytelling is some of the most scattered I've ever seen a piece of media, no one can access Vastege, or is willing to find a copy of Judgement, or hunt down and translate so many japanese exclusive drama CD's, side stories, and interviews. And many people never played Overture, and even if you did, this angsty new dude comes out of NOWHERE. I'll always be bitter at Daisuke for off-screening Ky and Dizzy's romance, and all the initial family drama over Sin's birth. We are force fed the meat of this sudden "super important" characters interpersonal drama, then it's slowly resolved in Xrd, all without us seeing how it STARTED, and it pisses me off to no end. This is the full-blooded son of some of the two most important characters in all the lore. Even his goddamn relationship to Sol comes prepackaged instead of earned, when Overture could've EASILY had flashback levels devouted to telling the story of Sin's entire childhood in short but effective fragments. The excuse of legal troubles with Sega at the time only goes so far, especially because they never bother revisiting it when Arc DOES buy back their characters. Sin has since grown a lot in player's perceptions since those days, and I'm personally super fond of him now compared to how ticked he used to make me feel, but even now I find myself thinking of all the ways he should've been better. Ultimately the point I'm trying to get to is that it feels like Arc Sys never learned ANYTHING from Sin's sloppy and forced inclusion to the story, and that they're repeating everything again with Unika, only this time there's no legal barriers and no excuses. Which makes me so sad, because if they handeled it right, this could've been the most hype I've felt for a new character in ages, instead of just confused and annoyed 😮‍💨

Oh yeah I totally understand where GG lore people like Ed Chang and the others in the Gear Project group in the early 2000s were coming from when they talked about how Overture sucked because of what it did for Dizzy and Ky, and how Sin came out of nowhere. If I had been into GG's lore back then I probably would've been mad about it too. Idk if I'd've left GG like the Gear Project group mostly did after Overture, but it definitely would've taken some fun out of it, I think. It was definitely compounded back then by the lack of access to official side media too. Western fans didn't even have the short stories from the Material Collection when Overture released.

Like you said, it sucks so much more this time around because we can't even blame it on things like the Sammy-Sega merger holding 90% of the legacy cast hostage, or rushed development, or anything like that. It's just Overture back in 2008 again but worse, and I'm bummed about it too!! Like leading up to this point I was so optimistic about Dual Rulers haha!! It looked like it was gonna be great! The animation is gorgeous, they got the guy from the novels writing it, the cast and team seemed excited about it... Idk... I don't know how they proofread the script and decided having Unika be a significantly less interesting Sin was going to be exciting for anyone. We didn't even get 8 tie-in short stories this time...

I wanna be hopeful that the remaining 3 episodes will maybe make things better but I think it's cope at this point lol

On a brighter note, we've got basically all the scripts from every GG on the wiki now (Judgment is there!): https://guiltygear.wiki.gg/wiki/Category:Scripts

And fan translations for just about everything else: https://solradguy.neocities.org/ggmasterpost

We're missing Vastedge in English, and the two light novels, but Lightning the Argent (novel) is almost fully fan translated into English and we've got pretty detailed summaries of Vastedge in English too. The Butterfly & Her Gale (novel) is kind of left out in the cold... Idk what the status is like on that one's translation

Dual Rulers might ultimately end up being kind of disappointing lore-wise, but overall the state of GG lore accessibility has never been better, even if a detailed guide is still required trying to figure out what order to go through it all in lmfao

#asks #long post

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kestalsblog · 7 months ago

Text

I wish writing communities didn't often give me a sense of utter alienation and pessimism toward writing. It's not that I think I'm a better writer than anyone else; I love reading other people's work so much. It's brought me incomparable joy, and I pride myself on my ability to be a true cheerleader for others without a trace of writer's envy.

But whenever I've attempted to join an actual group to meet other writers, whether online or in person, I felt such artificiality that I couldn't continue. It's almost like it's staged - we're all waiting for our turns to speak, like we're in some kind of class trying to use the right buzzwords and say the do's and don'ts of "good writing," like there's always something competitive lurking in the room, some need for perfect approval. It makes me look at my own writing advice posts on here and hate them because what initially start as attempts at genuine communications over my love for writing turns into the same damn soulless traps I feel everywhere else. I've fortunately had much better luck with genuine expressions of love for writing with a few people at a time rather than groups, but it still makes me sad.

I'll never forget this one group I tried to join that met at nights in this weird old building. I don't think the people there were bad at all, but I couldn't connect to them. They wouldn't stop debating what was "believable" in people's stories every single meeting. Picking apart sentences to determine if it was realistic enough or not. One freezing night, I was walking there and suddenly realized I couldn't stand it anymore, so I just ran off into the woods nearby to climb the trees instead. I was most likely the problem.

EDIT: This is absolutely not directed at the lovely people I talk to on here. I'm talking about actual groups geared toward writing I've joined 😮‍💨

#writeblr #writing community #writers #writing #writers on tumblr #kestal #text post #i truly love writing #so im very sad this happens #writing groups #i think what i want is impossible #a sense of absolute connection #isnt that what makes us writers in the first place usually?#but the limitations of language #blah #this is not directed to anyone on here🫶 but my sad past encounters LOL

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winterchimez · 2 years ago

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Forbidden | Ji Changmin

SUMMARY: you have been separated from your childhood best friend, Changmin for years. so when you both finally reunite on a mission together, he is no longer the childhood friend you have once come to know of, and things were going to take a turn for the both of you.

PAIRING: spy Changmin x spy f!reader

GENRE: ex-bffs to lovers au, angst, crime, suggestive

WARNINGS: nc-17, violence, mentions of gambling, mentions of human trafficking, kissing, making out

WORD COUNT: 3,168

A/N: here is the 3rd entry from my 100 followers event, and this was requested by my 妹妹 @sungbeam 💕 the way you chose that specific prompt lmao i knew i had to deliver some ✨good food✨ for you, and i hope it was worthy of your taste miss beam 😮‍💨 (it might be a bit rushed so i humbly apologise i wrote this in one sitting)

“Agent Y/N, reporting in.”

You knocked at your boss's door and stood there enthusiastically, awaiting your next mission.

It has been a while since you were deployed on field missions, hence the excitement you felt when you received a code entitled “S-Rank”, which indicated the highest rank of difficulty of missions that only a selected few are allowed to participate in.

You have been with your current agency for a few years, and through hard work and determination, you rose up to one of the higher-ranking agents in the field. With that, you are mostly deployed on the field, dealing with many missions that are far more gruesome and dangerous, which could eventually cost you your life if you weren’t careful enough. But you were a fighter—a soldier equipped with wits and extraordinary martial arts skills.

As a result, you have been placed on training duties where you were assigned to train the new recruits to prepare them as they make their official debut on the field. Not that you were entirely mad about it, since martial arts was one of your fortes, but you surely miss being on the field and on an actual mission.

Hence, you couldn’t contain your excitement for the day, and you couldn’t wait to gear back up and return to your comfort zone.

Your boss—Director Ji, was pretty pleased with the number of upcoming recruits that were going to officially join the team, as several agents were currently abroad to fulfill their own missions. In other words, your company desperately needs potential ones who could take on field missions.

This time, however, he hands you a red folder with all the necessary information about the mission. You knew what the red folder exactly meant—ones that could indeed cause a life or death situation, and there is no room for even a single mistake for this one. Usually, these were given to the elites, not even to higher-ranking agents like yourself.

The Elites are the best of the best, and they excel in every possible scenario or situation that they are in, no matter how brutal the mission may be. They do not engage much with the other agents except for the director himself, as they are often sent away far abroad to handle much more trivial matters at hand.

If your director has handed you such a folder where it’s not meant for you on a usual basis, that could only mean one thing. You were to step in as a substitute and be paired with at least one of the members from the elites and fulfill the mission as swiftly and hassle-free as possible.

As you were about to turn back and take your leave, your director stopped you just in time to inform you that this mission requires some more training than usual, and you were to be paired up with one of them to prepare for the big day.

Training with one of the elites? Obviously, how could you ever say no? It is definitely a dream come true for you as you have always admired them from the shadows. Enthusiastically, you nodded and agreed with the offer as you stepped out of the room.

“This is going to be so much fun.”

“I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you.”

The brunette shoots you with that cold and blunt statement, and in return, you give the male the biggest frown of the day.

As much as you were enthusiastic the entire morning as you prepared yourself for whoever would join you for the mission, the excitement immediately died down when the infamous elite member, Ji Changmin, stepped foot into the training room.

Your ex-childhood best friend.

Both you and Changmin go all the way back to kindergarten, you both were literally neighbours up till high school. You have spent both of your childhood together, to the point that you both knew exactly what were the biggest insecurities each of you had, even knowing how many crushes you had and how you both are hopeless romantics.

But as Changmin and his family moved away after graduating high school, you both lost contact with one another, never speaking or keeping in touch for many years.

Until you graduate from university.

Somehow, you have managed to stumble upon the Director’s Ji company, which he has been operating secretly for many years—thanks to one of your seniors who recommended you to him. He was more than delighted to take you in, knowing how you eventually pursued criminology and eventually keen on the idea of becoming a spy yourself.

That was when you were reunited with Ji Changmin. You were beyond ecstatic when you first saw him in person again. You wanted to run into him, give him the biggest embrace, and take in all his scent—one you have missed so dearly after all these years.

But the male eventually shut you off before you could do anything. He was nowhere near like the Changmin you used to grow up and love—he was now cold, often very stern, and would work alone instead rather than with others.

Because of that, you have never gotten the chance to talk things out with him, and you realise that it’s best for you to keep a distance from him now.

Never in a million years would that day come so soon for you both to reunite on a S-Rank Mission.

His simple yet cold statement immediately ruined your mood, and you were about to fire back at the male. But he was already prepared with his gear and gloves, waiting for you to join him on the training mat.

Given his demeanour, you knew that dragging his time would be a fatal mistake right now, and you had no choice but to equip yourself with the necessary items and join him as fast as you could.

As you make your way to his way, you can’t help but notice his appearance. His hair was parted to the side, and a little scar was situated right on his left cheek. He was wearing a simple black tee, but you couldn’t help but notice how buff he had gotten and how the shirt was clearly a little too tight for him.

The way his biceps were clearly so toned than ever, and god. The veins—

“When will you stop ogling and get yourself together?” He shoots you with an unfriendly look. Clearly, his patience is running out.

“Fine. God, what an impatient man you have become.” You blurted out by accident, eyes widening as you just realised you had let out your frustration and most inner thoughts. You looked up to meet the male face-to-face, only to realise that he was not bothered by that comment at all.

He has dealt with much worse before, this is nothing to him.

As you finally got into your position, you raised both of your now balled-up fists and stood in a defensive mood, ready for whatever moves the male would lay upon you. Unfortunately, you were a bit too slow to notice the swift movement he had made, and immediately, you were on the ground, groaning as you felt a slight pain upon your lower chin.

“Just so you know, I won’t go easy on you just because you are a girl. I’ll have you know that the enemies we deal with on S-Rank missions are far more murderous and barbaric than you have ever encountered. They could potentially become your worst nightmare. If this is how you will act on the field, I’m afraid you will lose your life within minutes.” Changmin spat, and boy, did it hurt as hell.

Angered, you got back up on your feet as you repositioned yourself again, trying your best to keep up with his swift movements this time.

This training went on for quite a while, and never once did you manage to land a blow on Changmin himself. Instead, you were constantly attacked at your blind spots and always on the ground, trying to find your way back up again.

God, this is going to be a hell of a ride.

The intense training with Changmin lasted for a few days, and the amount of bruises you have gotten thanks to him was uncountable.

Every day, you would return home and find yourself sitting by your bedside, applying an ice pack and ointment to each and every one of them. It has been quite a while since you have felt like this.

Humiliated and defeated.

This only happened when you were still a rookie, as you were training with your superiors then. Ever since you made your debut, you have done nothing but win in all the physical battles you have dealt with, both on and off the field.

“I could teach you how to fight, but I wasn’t equipped to take care of you.”

His words constantly echo into your mind, and you just can’t seem to get it off as much as you wanted. No matter how cruel they seemed, you knew his words meant well for you.

This is a S-Rank mission, for goodness sake, Y/N. It is either you defeat the enemy or be defeated yourself.

Taking in a deep breath as you closed your eyes, you just mentally prayed and hoped that all of the intense training with your ex-childhood best friend has at least done something for you and that you will be well-prepared as you both head into your designated location for tomorrow night.

Let’s just get this done and over with.

The both of you arrived discreetly at the location, equipped with a radio earpiece to receive necessary transmissions from one another to keep each other in the loop as you both parted ways to scout around the area.

The target of the mission was to infiltrate one of the largest and most well-known casinos in the heart of Seoul, The Grand Palace, as it is believed that the area itself was used for human trafficking, which explains the sudden disappearance of a handful of women in their early 20s over the past few months.

According to the information you both were given, as written in the red folder, the CEO of the casino, Mr Kim, was the mastermind behind all of this and had his men surrounding the casino at all times to prevent information from spreading while keeping his gambling business on the run.

Both of your mission was to infiltrate the control room—download all of the necessary information that could potentially expose the hidden and true business the casino was making money from. And, of course, to get the girls out of there once and for all.

Changmin suggested taking on the latter as he knew the area would be armed with more enemies to keep the girls out of reach. It was best suited for him to take on the role of doing the dirty work instead of you potentially. In return, you were to get to the control room and bypass the security, download the necessary data, get out of there, and pass it on to the FBI, who were already armed and ready for your signal.

So that was precisely what you did, with no room for arguments this time. It was kind of a maze to navigate to the control room, especially when the casino was filled with many individuals and the place was dark as hell. Yet, you had to bypass everyone while being undetected. To the best of your abilities, you eventually reached the destination, and sure enough, you were met with your worst nightmare.

Tons of red light laser security filled the room way before the entrance to the control room.

You were flexible, to say the least, but there is no way you could bypass all of these on your own. Whenever you were met in such a situation, you always had your superior or partner to figure it out together. But time was ticking, and you had no choice but to do it all alone this time.

As you slowly bent through each of the lasers and eventually made your way to the last one, you breathed in relief that there was no one around to notice your presence. But your happiness did not last for long, as you missed out on one of the lasers that was situated close to your right ankle. Sure enough, the alarms have begun going off.

Panicking, you tried your best to figure out an escape route as quickly as possible. But given the room's darkness, it was impossible to notice anything in particular.

That is until a lightbulb dings in your mind, and you look up to see a slightly ajar air vent.

It’s now or never.

With the equipment you were geared up with, you somehow managed to quickly get into the vent right before security guards came pouring into the room, trying to find the culprit behind all of this.

You began trying to calm your fast-beating heart down, that is, until you felt a pair of warm hands cupped over your mouth.

“Have they not taught you well how the very first rule of becoming a spy is not to get caught?”

That voice. It was Changmin.

You turned behind to find the male looking very displeased, and he was still cupping your mouth, not letting it go as he was convinced your breathing would definitely blow up both of your covers. Frustrated, you tried your best to fight against his grip, loosening yourself from him and yelling back at him silently.

“Look, laser securities was not my best forte.”

“That’s not a valid excuse, Y/N. You literally had one job, and you failed at doing so.”

You scoffed. “Really, Changmin? After all these years, you suddenly show up in my life again, only to turn into this cold-blooded spy with zero empathy left inside of him? Has becoming one of the elites affected your ego that much?”

Then, there was a slight pause. Changmin’s face then darkens as he scooches closer to you. “Don’t you dare say it as if you knew what I have been through over the years that we were separated from one another.”

Clearly, you were not backing down this time. “Oh yeah, then tell me. All the bullshit you went through made you turn into such a heartless individual.”

In the blink of an eye, Changmin cups his hands around your mouth once again as he pushes you down on the surface of the vent. He is now crawling up against you, moving in closer to you.

“You take that back right now, miss Y/N. I swear if I ever hear one more word from you—”

“Then what?” You muffled.

Then it all happened. Changmin did what he knew was best to shut you up. As swiftly as he often portrays with his martial arts abilities, he removes his hand from your mouth and plants a kiss directly onto your lips. The whole thing was aggressive and messy, as one would say, he was now kissing you messily, trying by all means to keep your mouth shut as the enemies were still down below.

On the other hand, you were far too taken aback by what happened, and your eyes were now as wide as they could ever be. Somehow, your body did not reject his touch or the kiss, in fact, you actually liked it.

Was it because you were too deprived of having him close to you? How badly you have missed him so much?

And how you never got to confess to him that you had feelings for him right before he left all those years ago.

This kiss was a dream come true for you. And you were not planning to let him go anytime soon. Instead, you moved your hands to tangle in his hair as you opened your mouth slightly to allow for more room for the both of you. Changmin then lays one of his hands on the side of your waist while the other travels up to one of your breasts, giving them a light squeeze. Adding to the tension, he then makes way for his tongue to enter your mouth, trying his best to devour up all of the elicit moans that you were letting out to keep this whole make-out session as quiet as possible.

And god, how much he loved hearing the moans coming out from you.

Neither of you planned on stopping anytime soon because this all felt so good. It was as if you both had longed for each other and now that you finally had, you were not going to let him go just yet.

Finally, after minutes, the both of you were gasping for air when Changmin realised that nobody was in the room anymore. The coast was clear, and both of you were safe enough to return and continue the mission.

Trying your best to steady your breathing again, you decided to shoot the male with a little tease. “You treat all of your ladies like this?”

“...Shut up.”

It did not take you both long enough to be able to infiltrate the control room. With your abilities, you both managed to knock out all of the individuals in the room cold while you went to the main system to download all of the information needed to expose the casino. As ordered by Changmin previously, you wasted no time leaving the premises as soon as possible to get help from the FBI.

While you were doing that, Changmin made his way to where the girls were kept captive and defeated all the guards on standby on his own. He then managed to free them all and escorted them out, where the police and medical assistants were already waiting for them.

At the end of the day, the mission was a huge success, and the mastermind and his team were eventually placed behind bars, facing life imprisonment as punishment.

After returning to your headquarters a few days later, you were then promoted to joining the elites by Director Ji himself, as he was pleased with your performance. However, there was one strict rule that these agents were to follow.

Never engage in personal matters with one another.

Before you could think about it further, your phone buzzed and you exited your agency, feeling slightly excited as you made your way into the black vehicle already waiting for you.

As soon as you opened the door and entered, you stared at the male with one of his hands on the steering wheel while the other came up to cup your cheek.

“Say, won’t your dad eventually discover all of this?” You questioned with a concerned look on your face.

Changmin then leans in to give a peck on your lips.

“Who says he needs to find out about it?”

masterlist

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squintyeyedjoel · 1 year ago

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Through Your Eyes | Part 3 - In the Blink of an Eye (Joel x Reader)

A/N: So this is the rest of what was chapter 2, but I broke it up to keep chapter 2 shorter, and good thing, too, because I ended up adding a lot more. 🤣 Also, I know in canon the garage is a separate building, and I have a plan for that, so bear with me, please.

I do not own The Last of Us or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Oooo, this one’s a doozy as well, but in a different way than the last one. So many things. (Let me know if I miss anything.) 😮‍💨 Some more original characters, lots of canon violence and swearing, (this one is a big one. Like a lot. There’s a hefty amount of swearing.) mention of attempted sexual assault without detail, Reader is a badass. We round it all out with obscene amounts of fluff and humor between it all, sweet moments, and just soft things. It’s me. I can’t not. No use of Y/N.

Word count: 13,464

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for reading over this however many times it’s been now and fangirling over it when I was having my down moments. You’re the reason this still exists.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Masterlist | Next

Xxx

The next morning, your little band of six was up with the sun and making sure the horses were ready. Starting out with over fifteen, this smaller party felt like a speck of dust in the wind compared to the massive herd you were before.

Joel had introduced you to the remaining members, people he personally trusted, which from your brief time with him, you knew meant a lot.

First was an older man named Jack, closer to Joel’s age with graying hair and a laugh that was infectious. He was a whisperer when it came to the horses. Well, any animal, really. You could have sworn you saw a butterfly land on his fingertip when no one was looking earlier this morning.

He looked over both shoulders so slightly you almost missed it, but he did a double take when he caught your eye, a small smile spreading up one side of his face as you both watched the small winged creature take flight once again. Jack held his index finger it had been perched on up to his lips in a bid for your silence, to which you only pressed your lips firmly together and gave a single stilted nod to try not to draw attention toward either of you.

It didn’t work.

“What’re you doing?” Joel asked from your right, drawing out the words skeptically to match the raise of his eyebrows in question.

“Nothing,” you offered quickly, fastening your backpack closed and gathering the last of your gear before heading over toward your horse. Once your back was to him, you grimaced. That was much too fast to be convincing.

“Uh-huh. Sure,” he drawled sarcastically, mumbling something under his breath when you didn’t acknowledge him. Something along the lines of, “She ‘nd Ellie’ll be the death’f me.”

It was Jack’s whiskey that had helped Jane’s wound yesterday. He hadn’t hesitated offering his little hip flask out of a secret pocket on the inside of his jacket as soon as he saw the state she was in.

A man pulled you gently off to the side before you could make it over to Jane, Joel following quickly after you less than a step behind.

You didn’t know his name, just that he seemed trustworthy, and slightly tortured. His eyes held a closed off level of pain you’d seen all too often since outbreak day, once or twice in your own reflection, and you knew not to judge how a man chose to fight his demons.

So it was no surprise to you when he offered the stainless steel little demon chaser he obviously kept with him at all times, primed and ready. The liquid sloshed a little inside as he quickly tugged it from his hidden pocket. It was dented in a few places, worn and obviously loved. It had seen better days, but that was kind of the point…. It saw “better” days in order to help you see some better days yourself.

Or to help you sleep through them.

Whichever helped most.

It was the apocalypse.

Who were you to judge?

“Take it,” the man said, holding it out, his hand shaking slightly as he gripped the lifeline with just the tips of his fingers in a hesitant extension. “She needs it more’n I do.”

“Y’sure?” Joel asked, as you eyed the tremble of the man’s fingers. “Withdrawal is no joke, Jack.”

The man who you now knew as Jack’s features curled up in some sort of shame, then determination. He bounced the flask slightly in a renewed offer toward the two of you, his extended hand more firm as he worked hard to calm the tremors. “Neither is being stabbed. What she’s going through is worse than a few uncomfortable nights for me. I’ll survive.” Try as he might, the flask started to vibrate slightly, and he looked down at it like it had betrayed him.

And in a way, you guessed it had.

Reaching out to gently cradle his hand in both of yours, the tremors seemed to still for a moment. Holding his gaze, you took the flask from his grasp, not missing the way his grip tightened just a little before releasing it.

Withdrawing his hand back to his side after a delayed moment as if he had been shocked by some electric current, curling it into a tight fist and quickly stuffing it deep into his jacket pocket, Jack smiled brightly as he looked between the two of you. “Jus’ don’t shoot me when something crawls up my ass in a few days, Joel.”

“No promises,” the elder Miller grunted with a small grin, turning and ushering you toward Jane to make sure no one else interrupted you along the way.

Next was a younger man named Liam, who looked to be around Will’s age. Despite being new to patrols or going on runs and all they would entail, he was eager to learn and an excellent shot.

Turns out he’d also come from Texas, though was much younger when everything had happened, probably only twelve or fourteen years old on outbreak day, so you assumed he and Joel hadn’t crossed paths until later, somewhere closer to Jackson.

And you couldn’t help but feel like maybe Joel was playing a little bit of a favoritism card for his home state, allowing the much younger newbie to tag along with all the other more experienced travelers when he still had so much yet to learn. (You couldn’t blame him if he was. It was yours, too, after all.)

It wasn’t until you heard Liam mention how his family had worked for Joel’s contracting company ‘once upon a time’ - to which Joel had walked past grumbling something resembling, ‘I ain’t that old’ - that things started making a little more sense.

Less of the home field advantage, and more of the home grown kind.

It was becoming clear that Joel was a family man, although to be honest, that was obvious from the start. What you were coming to see was that family wasn’t all just blood.

And that was a decision he made long before the apocalypse.

That was just Joel Miller.

That was his DNA.

If you found yourself in his fold, you’d be okay.

Taken care of.

Even when the world went to shit and he ran into your kid thousands of miles away across the country when everyone was fighting against infectedâ€¦.

That boy would have a home.

You watched with a smile as Joel helped Liam adjust something on his rifle, then braced it on his shoulder and looked through the sights down the barrel with one eye squinted shut, before lowering the weapon and handing it back to the younger man.

Liam copied Joel before pulling away only a step to meet the elder’s gaze, and they shared some quiet words. Some muttered joke drifted to you about old eyes before Joel lightly cuffed him along the back of the head with a smirk and a smartass as he turned to leave, Liam grinning with a chuckle as he turned and secured his rifle to the side of his mount.

With your own grin pulling up your features, you turned slowly and surveyed the rest of the group as you stroked your horse's mane. “I think we may just make it, old girl,” you mused quietly, turning a skeptical eye on your mare when she chuffed at you. Rolling your eyes, you looked back to the group, and mumbled under your breath, “If Joel were a horse…. You’d be it, darlin’.”

The last newcomer to you was a woman named Kate, about your age, and a walking encyclopedia of every living thing in the forest. What you could eat, what you couldn’t, what was medicinal, what was flammable…. Before the outbreak she had been a nurse, and her skills were invaluable to have around on an excursion like this.

She had offered to help with Jane, but Will only let her supervise. No one could pull him away from the wounded seamstress. Under any other circumstance you would find it endearing, but at that particular moment, you found it anything but.

You tried to speak calmly, but the man was trying your last nerve. “Will, she knows what she’s doing. Let her help.”

He lifted his eyes to look at you from where he knelt on one knee on the other side of Jane, and you swore you saw tears brimming in them. If he blinked, you were pretty sure they would fall. But he hadn’t blinked as long as you’d been looking at him, which struck you like a bolt of lightning when you realized how long that had been. It was almost as if he was afraid to close his eyes. Like if he did, she would be gone when he opened them againâ€¦. Even if only for a second.

“I’m not moving.” He pulled his gaze higher to meet the sympathetic face of Kate. “But she can supervise.”

You began to argue again, but Kate put a hand on your shoulder. “That’s fine. I can do that.” Her voice was soft and soothing. “Let me go grab my kit, and I’ll walk you through it, Will.”

He swallowed roughly and nodded once, not looking directly at her, his eyes falling back down to look at Jane who hadn’t woken up since she’d passed out at the raider camp.

“You’re lucky she’s unconscious, or else she’d be giving you an earful right now,” you sighed, letting your weight slump back onto your seat. Resting your forearms on your bent knees, you studied Will cautiously as your head lolled to the right with a tired huff.

“I’d gladly take that over this silence right now,” Will said so quietly, you almost missed it. He held one of her hands in his own, so fiercely and yet cradling it so delicately, you couldn’t even begin to hope to describe it should you have to.

He maneuvered so her head was in his lap, and he peered down at her with a look you thought had died off on outbreak day. Something so tender, so soft, contentedâ€¦.

Come to think of it, you’d seen it on Joel a few times, usually when he was looking at Ellie, or Tommy, though the last was short lived.

Occasionally when he would look down at his watch, though that fluctuated between pain and this sense of peace and contentment.

Almost always when he was in his shop, tool in hand and project on the table.

And sometimes, when he thought you weren’t looking…. Like right now…. He had this look when he’d steal a glance at you.

Stealing your eyes over Will’s shoulder, you met the eyes of your current housemate, and instead of darting away like they usually did, he held your stare as he absently tended to his horse’s tack.

“It’s weird to see her so quiet….”

Will’s soft words pulled you back to the matter at hand. And you could have sworn you saw Joel grin in your peripherals.

“You’re gonna wish you never said that,” Jane mumbled, groaning as she rolled her head to the side, her face screwed up in pain. “Once I start going, I don’t stop.”

You grinned. “It’s true. She doesn’t have an off button.”

Jane reached out and whacked your arm. “Be nice to me. I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not,” Will said around his broad grin, maneuvering her head off of him so he could get beside her for a better view. The smile he gave her then was nothing short of brilliant. “Not if I can help it.”

Speaking of….

“Joel? Where’s Will?”

He smirked with a gentle shake of his head. “Don’t worry ‘bout it.” Gripping the reins of his horse, he clicked the side of his mouth quietly as he got near the creature's head, stroking it softly with one hand as the horse nickered at him.

You led your horse over toward him, reins pulled tight as the giant, powerful, dapple gray wonder named Delilah balked, digging into the earth and tossing her head side to side with a discontented snort.

She’s as stubborn as he is. Fact, I’m pretty sure they planned this. Conspired and everything.

“I plotted nothing with your horse,” Joel mused quietly, amusement heavy in his tone as you realized you said the last part out loud. “Only thing Delilah and I conspire ‘bout are sugar cubes n’apples.” He shrugged. “There’s the odd carrot talk here n’there, but….”

Joel sighed before you even really got moving, as if he were anticipating the whole thing. His head tossed back as he peered up at the sky as if to ask why.

Dropping the reins you closed the last few feet between you and Joel, arms coming to cross over your chest once you landed behind him. “Well, I’m gonna.”

Joel sighed again, resting his head against his horse’s, who let out a soft contented bray, before pulling back to look at you. “Will’s okay,” he said softly. “Now, leave it alone.”

“How do you know?” You swiveled to follow him as he walked over to gather your horse’s reins, shushing the large mare until she, too, was nickering at him, then he led her back over to you.

Joel shrugged, pulling his face tight in amusement as he placed the horse’s tack back in your hands. “Jus’ do.”

“If you don’t tell me….”

He mounted his horse with a groan. “I patrol with the man. I just know his little quirks, okay?” Looking down at you from atop his mount, Joel’s expression was unreadable as his horse stepped back and forth, eager to get going. He reached out to pat the back of the large chestnut’s head, muttering calming words. “Shhhh…. Calm down, Old Beardy….”

“Your horse's name is-”

“He’s not in trouble…. Yet,” Joel cut you off, sitting up abruptly, slightly wide eyed on the back of Old Beardy. “But if he keeps pesterin’ Jane like I think he’s wantin’ to,” his eyes narrowed in on you ever so slightly as he leaned back over his horses head to offer soothing circles of comfort on the side of his neck, “that could all change very quickly….”

You scoffed, arms across your chest cinching tighter. “Really?” They rearranged to your hips as you leaned toward him with each word, most likely for emphasis, but you weren’t entirely sure. “Was that a not so subtle dig at me to stop pesterin’ you?”

Joel shrugged, one shoulder going slightly higher than the other, as he sat back upright astride his horse and an amused grin started to pull up one cheek. “You said it. I didn’t.” With that, he nudged his horse forward, moving past you at a slow walk, and you could tell he was trying hard not to smile.

Xxx

Without Will here, the group traveled in relative silence. After a while, it became unbearable for you, and you steered your horse to sidle alongside Joel and his steed.

“Ellie told me Tommy was your patrol partner.”

Joel nodded. “Mmm-hmm. Usually is.”

You watched a butterfly fly in front of you, smirking as you glanced at Jack and found him already grinning in your direction. “So what changed?” You focused back on Joel and the road ahead.

Joel sighed, adjusting in his saddle. “He’s gonna be a daddy soon.” Your eyes bugged out of your head, making him chuckle. “Yeah, that’s ‘bout the same reaction I had.”

“Same reaction we all had,” Jack chimed in, making everyone laugh softly.

“I dunno. Seems like he’d be a good dad,” Liam posed.

“What makes you say that?” Kate had turned in her saddle to face the youngest of the group, her eyebrows nearly in her hairline.

“It’s just a gut feeling.”

“A gut feeling,” Jack agreed distantly, staring straight ahead. “And by that you mean the thought of it makes your stomach turn.”

As Jack passed by on your right, you reached out and shoved his shoulder lightly.

“What?” The man protested, looking at you wide eyed. “It’s true! Ain’t no way the words Tommy Miller and Daddy ever came up together naturally….” Jack grimaced as he turned back to face forward again. “‘Least not in any way I care to think about.”

“Watch it,” Joel warned teasingly. “That’s my baby brother you’re talking about, asshole. He may be a stick in the mud and about as sharp as two spoons trying to pick up pudding-”

Your face twisted in confusion as Joel took a breath. “Um, spoons could easily pick up pudding. That’s not an insult. You must be tired.” Joel turned his glare on you, and you simply grinned around it, continuing on. “I think you were going more for something like spoons trying to cut through stone?”

The group all snickered behind you as the two of you simply stared at one another, amusement hiding deep in your expression while annoyance clearly painted his.

“I concur with Liam,” you agreed instead after a moment. Joel huffed and turned his gaze on the young man who only shrugged in response before he was looking back at you.

“A Miller man an actual daddy,” you mused quietly, smiling softly as you stared straight ahead. “I don’t think the world could handle the awesomeness.” Looking back over at Joel, you expected to see him grinning at the playful banter, but instead he looked somewhat sad.

The same expression he had when he looked at his watch sometimes.

In fact, he glanced down to it now. It was brief, but you caught it.

It wasn’t the look Will had had with Jane. This was that sad, forlorn expression, like he was missing something. Like a piece of his soul was gone.

But as quickly as it came, it went.

Without a glance your direction, he pulled his eyes up to the path ahead and squinted as the horses pulled into another clearing and sunlight shone directly on his face.

“Yeah,” he finally gruffed, clearing his throat as he purposefully looked at the forest around him. “He’s gonna be great. Anyway….” He nudged his horse faster, seeming to head for the next pocket of tree cover a few yards away. But you weren’t that dense and could tell he was just trying to get away from the conversation, so you followed suit, falling into step beside him once again.

Joel sighed almost imperceptibly when he heard your horse's footfalls lining up with his own once again. You could have sworn his eyes rolled slightly, too, now that they were not squinted in the shade of the tall trees. But he went on regardless. “Maria’s been sick a lot more the further the pregnancy’s gone, so…. Told him t’stay home.”

Nodding, you kept your gaze forward, allowing Joel a respite from prying eyes. This was all a tender subject, and you still didn’t know why, but you could respect that. “Well, it looks like Will is a good one to take his place,” you mused quietly.

Glancing over, you saw how Joel’s expression brightened again, his eyes casting down to the ground like a bashful kid. “He’s alright.”

The group made it a decent ways, a handful of miles between all of you and the former bandit camp now that there were fewer of you, plus you didn’t have the cart to slow you down.

Even so, you still missed Jane and Will. They both added a quiet energy to the group even if they never said a word.

But they both always said plenty.

Joel had the group stop at an abandoned cabin on the very edge of the forest, letting the horses rest and grabbing a bite to eat from what was packed. Everyone was settled in and halfway through some sandwiches, when suddenly you could hear muffled galloping through the cabin walls. It was approaching rapidly in the distance, back in the direction you had come from.

The whole party sat up abruptly, food long forgotten as they reached for their firearms and listened closely.

“Everyone stay inside,” Joel mumbled quickly, striding over to the small fire in the cabin's hearth and setting his cup of water on the mantle, swapping it for his rifle already resting there, always within arms reach.

Jack and Kate cocked their rifles, clicking them over to safety and resting them across their laps while they remained in their seats by the fire, watching Joel head out the door. Once the elder Miller had passed the threshold, the door softly latching shut behind him, Jack clicked his safety off. Kate arched a brow at him, and he shrugged.

“Better safe than sorry.”

Kate rolled her eyes. “And if it’s nothing? And you get jumpy? What then?”

Jack huffed quietly at her whispered admonishment. “I don’t get jumpy.”

Casting her eyes down to his still trembling hands pointedly, she pulled her eyes back up to meet his and arched a brow. “Maybe you don’t, but that leftover whiskey in your system sure does.”

Flipping his hand under the barrel over to grip the armrest of the chair in an attempt to stabilize himself, Jack glared at Kate, but quickly turned the glare down to his hand when the tremor instead began to rattle the loose wooden pegs holding the seat together.

“Point taken,” he grumbled, flicking the safety back on before sitting on his practically vibrating palms, his rifle braced across his thighs. After a moment he hurriedly grabbed the rifle and rested it against the stone fireplace in front of him, sitting back on his hands and adding a bouncing knee to the routine. He looked at Kate and shrugged. “It’s gotta work its way out somehow.”

Turning away from the two by the fire, you spotted Liam still asleep in one of the long abandoned bunks in the cabin corner, and you couldn’t blame him. An actual mattress that hadn't gone to hell was hard to come by. You smiled faintly after remembering how he had plopped in it within five seconds of entering the structure.

“Anyone wakes me sooner than morning, clickers are gonna be the least of your worries,” he said, flat on his back and eyes already closed, followed by a contented sigh as he melted into the slightly redeemable box spring.

The dust particles that had filled the air in a violent swirl when his back hit the mattress had finally begun to settle. They floated through the lazy sunbeams that danced through the remaining cabin windows, dirty as they were, reminding you of lazy weekend afternoons back before the outbreak.

A lawnmower going down the street.

Kids laughing in the cul de sac.

The smell of barbecue from somewhere nearby, or just a fire as people stood round to watch it for fun in their back yard with a drink in hand and relax.

Not to rely on it for warmth like now.

For food.

Usually outside and in silence for fear of what lurked just out of sight.

You hadn’t thought about these things in so long….

Since before moving to Jackson.

Before Joel and Ellie….

Shaking your head, you shut your eyes to quit staring at the dust particles long enough to focus back on the matter at hand.

Liam. Hoofbeats. Focus.

Looking back at the peacefully sleeping young man, you grinned slightly. Shifting your weight side to side once, you sighed heavily through your nose.

Sorry, kid.

After absently adjusting the strap slung across your shoulders of the rifle you’d stolen from the raiders, tugging where it pulled tightly at the center of your chest, the weapon a heavy reminder at your back, you walked quietly over to him.

Gently nudging his shoulder with your left hand, you then held the index finger of your right up to your mouth to indicate silence as he stirred and began to ask what was happening in a bleary voice.

Liam turned his head toward you, his face screwed up like you had a flashlight trained on his face in the darkest of nights. “Who dares to distur-” The hand rubbing one eye froze mid swipe, and he stared at you with the other eye that was still exposed.

Suddenly fully awake, his palm trailed up to rest on his forehead as he blinked a few times then looked wide eyed around the cabin and saw everyone with their weapon either in hand or at the ready.

He sat up abruptly, his hand falling to his lap soundlessly as he continued to scooch closer to the edge of the mattress, miraculously avoiding every traitorous squeaky spring in the thing.

Once at the edge, feet still propped up on the tiny cot, he reached down seamlessly into his open backpack resting on the floor against the foot of the cot closest to his head, and pulled out a machete, bringing it up to rest on the bed beside him as he gave you a single nod.

It was a very Joel thing to do.

A snort of amusement pulled your attention back over your shoulder where you saw Jack looking on with a grin, nodding in approval. “Kid’s got the right idea,” he said just above a whisper.

“I learned from the best,” Liam mused around a grin.

“Yeah, Joel’s really been passing on some gems,” Kate said, looking slyly at Jack, and snorting in amusement when he turned a disapproving glare her way.

“The kid wasn’t talking about Joel,” he groused. “He’s my patrol partner, Kate. He meant me.”

“I actually meant Tommy.”

All three sets of eyes turned to Liam, before quiet snickers of laughter went around, the younger man beaming at the attention.

“Nah, I’m just joking.”

“We know,” Jack coughed softly, eyeing the door of the cabin when Joel still hadn’t returned, clearing his throat.

“I meant Ellie.”

This time the laughter was a bit louder and unrestrained, but still quiet. A thump on the cabin door was heard, then it swung open and Joel popped his head in.

“Hush!” He hissed to the four of you, the continuous growing sound of approaching hooves filling the following silence of his deathly stare. “You four are louder than a horde!”

The cabin door shut silently, but it might as well have been slammed with the finality it gave. The four of you exchanged looks.

“‘Least we smell better than a horde, though.”

Jack’s off handed comment made the rest of you snicker quietly as you tried to follow Joel’s request.

“Speak for yourself,” Kate grumbled. “Most of us do, ‘nyway.”

Jack and Kate shared another little stare off as the tension of the impending approaching hoofbeats grew closer.

Meanwhile, Joel had slinked around the side of the cabin outside for a better vantage point before the newcomer on horseback could get any closer. You were able to track him through two of the cabin’s windows before you lost sight of him. If he stayed on the path you’d last seen him on, then he would have made it just behind a pile of firewood and out of sight when the rapidly approaching horse crested over the tiny hill and came into view.

His footsteps were virtually silent, only the foliage crunching underfoot could give him away, and he was careful to not let it. Aside from one or two traitorous twigs that helped you all in the cabin follow his movements once he was past the windows, he was like a ghost.

Suddenly his footsteps shuffled carelessly, every leaf and twig breaking under his weight and being kicked to the side with little to no effort to mask his steps as he slid to a stop at the same time you heard a second male voice.

It was familiar as it yelled, “Woah, woah,” overlapping the sound of a horse breathing heavily as the galloping came to a stop. Then a thud as someone hopped onto the ground from a height, you guessed from the back of the horse, the foliage underfoot crunching from the impact.

You were so concentrated trying to place the familiar voice that had called out to the horse, you missed the pair of returning relaxed footsteps back toward the cabin. The low, muffled voices exchanged a murmured conversation you couldn’t quite make out even if you were paying attention.

The cabin door suddenly swung open, and there stood Joel, a grumpy look on his features, followed by an amused looking Will.

“Told ya he was fine,” Joel grumbled, holding your wide eyed gaze.

The other three members of the group let out a collective sigh, of what you assumed was relief, all of them stowing their weapons once again and settling back into the comfort and warmth that had been interrupted.

Will stayed outside to tend to his horse while Joel came back into the cabin, grumbling something about not signing up for this the whole way back to the fireplace.

As Joel passed behind Jack, he pulled the chair the older man was seated in back, making his friend reach out to stabilize himself before looking up at Joel skeptically. “And you do smell like a horde. Go use the rain barrel out back and clean up, ya ass.”

“It’s the shakes,” Jack mumbled, staring at the floor in embarrassment as he got to his feet before heading for the door. “They make me sweat somethin’ fierce.”

“Then use this as ammunition to never let the whiskey get you this bad again, Jack.”

Pausing halfway to the door, the older man looked up to meet Joel’s piercing expression, the embarrassment on his own melting away into determination. The two men held each other's gaze for a moment before Jack nodded once and headed out the cabin door.

“I’ll go with him. Make sure he’s okay.” Kate stood up, slinging her rifle across her shoulders and grabbing Jack’s from its spot still against the fireplace. “After everything, I’d prefer someone watch my back, too. Only fair I watch someone’sin return.”

Joel nodded and watched her follow after Jack. When the front door opened, you could see Will tending to his horse out front before it closed again and cut off the outside world. He, Jack and Kate traded muffled words before Will came inside, swiping his sweaty brow in the crook of his elbow with the sleeve of his outer flannel layer.

Once he got settled into the cabin, hogging a space by the fire despite a look from Joel as he adjusted to make room, and several pieces of beef jerky from the main stash despite you and Liam staring him down pointedly, an overly excited Will explained everything.

Hold your horses I’m getting to it! How he rode all morning …. Can someone pass me some water? I think I swallowed a bug on the way here …. after sneaking out of Jackson …. Jerky has never tasted this good …. to try and catch up with the group once again after …. Man, whoever built this fire did a good job. It is hot! …. after Jane ‘threatened to maim him’ if he didn’t get ahold of her sewing machine. Shouldn’t be too difficult.

He had a starstruck look in his eyes the whole time, and you were pretty sure it was because he was living out his secret agent dreams by sneaking out of town and back to the group, but it was especially evident when he talked about Jane, making you smile.

Does he realize he would have done it if she hadn’t even asked?

He was wrapped around her finger already.

Kate and Jack had come back in by now and were in their seats by the fire once again, watching Will with bemused expressions.

“We had to get out before dawn so the council wouldn’t put a stop to it. Things are crazy since we got back and those raiders wouldn’t say a word. Became freaking mimes.” Joel snorted in amusement.

“Security was doubled instantly after we told them about the threats, so I had to pay off the south gate watchmen. By the way, Joel,” he turned toward the older man, “they get to choose their next three patrols.” He shrugged at the exasperated look from the elder Miller. “Was all they wanted. I told them they had to be done within the next three months or no deal, and they said fine.” Joel arched a brow.

Will took a deep breath, wincing slightly like he didn’t particularly want to relay this next part.

“Spit it out,” Joel growled, adjusting in his seat in front of the fire to face it, holding his hands out toward the flames.

“The council aren’t too happy that you didn’t come back with everyone.” He looked around the room. “Any of you.” Then back at Joel. “But especially you, since you’re partially in charge of security, n’all.”

“Well, ain’t that nice,” Joel mused quietly, the side of his mouth ticking up as he continued to stare at the fire.

“They mentioned a disciplinary hearing once this is all sorted out.”

Everyone in the cabin groaned at the mention of more politics.

Everyone but Joel. He just grinned, rubbing his hands together in front of the flames. “Well, I think Ellie said it bestâ€¦.” He looked at you, then Will. “They can bite me.”

“Speaking of Ellie,” Will grabbed his backpack where it rested at his feet, pulled it into his lap and unzipped it, digging into its contents with purpose. “She was real worried ‘bout both of you when she heard what happened.”

He looked up, his hand withdrawing from the bag and gesturing between you and Joel with his index finger, then went right back to rifling through the bag, making one side of your mouth pull up slightly at his antics. “So she sent these with me.” Pausing in his search, he shut his eyes in exasperation and tilted his head back toward the ceiling. “Don’t ask me how she knew I’d be leavin’, before you start yellin’, Joel,” Will disclaimed preemptively, his voice tired already as he focused back on the bag, returning it to the floor and withdrawing two items. “Girl’s got a mind of her own.”

Will extended a hand to each of you, the one for Joel holding an old revolver that the man looked at fondly, his eyes softening as he took it from Will’s hand, and tucked it into the back of his pants. The younger man reached back into the bag and pulled out a bandolier lined with bullets for the gun that you’d seen Joel using his reloading press to make out in the garage a few times.

Ammo could be hard to come by, depending on the caliber, so when Joel happened on some reloading equipment on a patrol, he’d been ecstatic. It didn’t matter that he’d thrown his back out trying to get the heavy gear home. Stubborn as he was, he made it work, he and his horse somehow tag teaming the equipment all the way back to Jackson from who knows where. He had not allowed Will to touch it the entire way back, some stupid childlike claim waging between them like finders keepers or something along those lines - you’d stopped listening with a roll of your eyes as they’d bickered the whole way into the garage with the equipment.

“Come on, Joel. I helped you get it here!” Will’s voice carried from the garage, his breathing heavy as he tugged the makeshift sled the equipment was on the last few feet over the threshold.

“I said no! Now drop it,” Joel groused, the following silence after a loud clatter almost deafening.

“You said ‘drop it’,” Will said nonchalantly.

Joel’s hiss could be heard clearly all the way in the kitchen where you were doing dishes. “I meant the topic, not the tools….”

“Well, maybe I could think more clearly if I hadn’t just trekked thirty five miles with all that weight-”

“It wasn’t thirty-”

“Felt like it-”

“You’re acting like a child-”

“And you’re acting like a grouch-”

“Don’t test me, Will.”

“But grouch is nothing new for you, Joel.”

“Oh, just fuck off.”

“Make me.”

“Oh, I will….”

“Boys!” When you walked into the garage, the two of them were nose to nose, chests puffed up and about to bump into one another in a ridiculous display of strength. “Stop it. You’re both idiots.”

They both turned their heads to look at you.

“He thinks-” Joel started, overlapping Will’s “I didn’t-”

“What did I just say?” Your hands went to your hips in admonishment, brows knit together in an unimpressed glare.

Joel turned back to Will, a heavy puff of air passing through his nose before he smiled. “Fine. Finders keepers.”

Will scoffed in protest as Joel peeled off to start unloading the equipment.

“That’s not fair!”

“I said what I said. Now don’t touch my stuff, idiot.”

With a shake of your head, you left them to sort out their nonsense, letting the garage door close behind you and muffle their bickering as you headed back to the kitchen.

The night before you left, you’d seen Joel and Ellie out there together, working with the press as he taught her the basics of reloading. You wondered how many of those she’d made herself as you watched him take the bandolier delicately, holding it in both hands out in front of him like you would a newborn child. Practically cradling it.

The look in his eyes as he ran them up and down the lines of bullets, surveying each shiny casing, was much the same as that of a parent looking at their brand new precious offspring just after they’d entered this world. It was a look once adopted that never really left. Something a little precious, awestruck, filled with wonder and love, and a hell of a lot of pride.

You were ninety percent sure he was thinking about Ellie, and not the ammo, though.

Well, more like eighty percent.

Will cleared his throat to pull your attention back to him, jostling his hand still held out to you.

“Sorry,” you mumbled, looking down at the offering.

You saw your yellow fanny pack being extended to you, partly deflated and sagging as Ellie had obviously removed all your tools you wouldn’t need on the trip.

When you took it from Will’s hand, an unexpected weight inside caught you off guard. Unzipping the main compartment once you’d clipped the belt around your waist, you pulled out a pocket knife you had seen Ellie flipping open and closed almost daily.

She was never without it.

….Except now….

….Because she’d sent it with you.

The room began to swim behind your unshed tears as they threatened to fall, but you blinked them away rapidly. This wasn’t the time for that. Nor was it the time for that thing catching in your chest as you traced the tip of your index finger over the worn housing of the blade.

After a moment, you looked up at Joel, and saw the surprise on his face before his eyes pulled up from the familiar pocket knife to meet yours, something like fondness taking over his features as they softened. “That’s her most prized possession.”

“Besides the garage,” you shot back, trying to speak around the emotions building up in your throat, clearing it in an attempt to rid yourself of them. A wet chuckle took their place as you held his gaze, your grip tightening around the pocket knife protectively.

Joel snorted, shaking his head gently as he looked back down to the bandolier. “Don’t start.” He slipped the ammo belt over his shoulders and across his chest, adjusting it minutely like a man would a tie on Easter morning.

It struck you for a moment how much life had changed since outbreak day. Men used to adjust their ties and now they adjusted their weapons.

These were thoughts for another day.

Setting the knife back in the main compartment of your pack, you dug out the rock Joel had given you to rest against your black eye from your jacket pocket, and really looked at it for the first time since he had given it to you.

It was smooth, almost perfectly round, yet flat enough to hold in the palm of your hand easily. A rich dark gray, almost black with white streaks running through one part of it that made it look slightly off kilter. As it caught the firelight, the white streaks glimmered slightly. They were some sort of crystal, barely the width of a sharpened pencil, yet still they decided to shine.

You wanted to be like that rock. Solid and steadfast, it knew what it was, until sometime when it was forming, something else came along to meld with it and left a mark, a scar, a blemish, and yetâ€¦. It was still beautiful.

Glancing up, you saw Joel already watching you curiously, his brow raised in amusement. Unable to hold his gaze, you shook your head slightly before looking back down to the bag, and tucked the rock in the main compartment right beside the pocket knife like you’d meant to do before you’d gotten distracted.

The sound of the teeth stitching closed as you zipped the bag shut once again acted as an anchor to your wayward mind.

“I’ll protect it with my life.” Looking back up, you caught Joel’s eye, and something unreadable passed across his face, his gaze fluttering down to the bag, then back up to meet your own, before turning to Will as they started in on another topic.

Holding out a hand to halt the conversation, eyes shut tight in confusion, you stopped them. “Wait, wait, wait.”

Ignoring Will’s exasperated sigh, you forged on. Opening your eyes, you peered at him with furrowed brows as you lifted only your index finger, gesturing to your left a few times. “Back up.”

He lifted his eyebrows at you in question. Bobbing your finger slightly as you continued for emphasis, you arched your own brows curiously. “‘We’?”

Faintly, in the distance the same direction Will had come from, you heard a wagon wheel squeak as it rolled closer toward the cabin.

After only a moment of exchanged looks in hesitation, Will refusing to give away anything, you all piled outside to see who the newcomer was. Just cresting over the little hill before the cabin came a horse with a rider moving at a casual pace, the cart from before that had taken Jane and the raiders back to Jackson being pulled along behind them.

Everyone smiled while Joel groaned and cradled his head in his hand when it was clear it was pulled by none other than Tommy.

“You guys have all the fun without me,” the younger Miller yelled good-naturedly.

Joel groaned a bit louder, starting toward the cart with determination. “Raiders n’infected’ll hear us comin’ a mile away with that wheel. What’d you do?”

Tommy scoffed. “First your hinges, now this? Why d’you always assume it’s me?”

Once Jack, Liam, and Kate saw who was atop the cart, and that he and Joel were quickly slipping into their usual ways, the three of them wandered back into the cabin, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes as the two men continued to bicker.

Will, however, stuck around for the show. He was a firm supporter of Miller Entertainment. So long as there was something to see, he’d be there.

Oblivious to the reactions of the others, Joel continued towards his brother, taking the reins of the horse he was atop as Tommy hopped off. “Because it is always you.” He handed the reins back to Tommy as he went to inspect the wheel quickly before they both returned to the now dwindling group.

“Well, you’re fucking welcome, y’old fucker,” Tommy grumbled teasingly. “This wasn’t my idea, anyway.”

You smirked. “Jane got to you, too, huh?”

He looked at you with wide eyes. “That woman is frightening.”

You and Will laughed, as Tommy looked between you with the same, wide eyed look of fear.

After a quiet moment filled with your dying laughter and Joel’s grumbling as he glared at the wheel, Tommy turned back to his brother. “I just want you t’be happy, Joel.”

Knelt beside the wagon wheel, inspecting it up close now that they were beside the cabin, Joel didn’t even spare his brother a glance. “Then leave me alone, you ass.”

Tommy unhooked the horse, and you led it over beside Will’s where the two men started taking the gear off of them to rest for the evening.

After a long moment of messing with the wheel, Joel turned his head up to Tommy from his perch on the ground, wide eyed. “Who’s watchin’ Ellie?!”

Tommy looked down at his older brother, hands on his hips, unphased. “Herself.”

With a shake of his head, Joel got to his feet and paced in a small circle with his hands on his hips. The two Miller’s looked like carbon copies of each other, and it made you grin. “They’re all doomed. All‘f Jackson….” He rounded on his brother, both of them squaring off with hands on their hips and a stern, stony expression. “What were y’thinkin’?”

You laughed. “You may not have your garage to yourself when we get back, Joel. She may take matters into her own hands.”

After turning his hard glare on you, he turned back to the wheel, wrestling with it for a moment and finally yanking out a small twig caught up in the mechanism, before standing back up and dusting off his hands with a dry, tight grin. “For everyone’s sake, she better fuckin’ not.” He nodded to Tommy. “‘specially him.”

“Why me?” Tommy scoffed.

“You’re th’idiot that left a teenager unattended in my house,” he groused.

“There’s not much she can-”

Joel just leveled a glare on him. “‘member when y’threw that party when mom ‘n dad were out of town, and I was watchin’ you?”

Tommy huffed. “That was so long ago, Joel, and she’s way different ‘n I was. She ain’t the social butterfly like me,” Joel snorted, “anyway, it’s Jackson in th’middle’f a goddamn apocalypse. What the hell is she gonna do that’d be so awful?”

They shared a look, something unsaid that had Tommy’s expression shifting to some sort of understanding. He softly amended, “I’m sure she’s fine, Joel.” He clapped a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She’s stayin’ with Maria, anyway.” Tommy grinned at Joel’s groan. “I’m not entirely useless, big brother. I thought’f all that. Maria’ll make sure she gets t’school n’eats n’bathes….” That understanding passed over his face again, turning it to something soft, along with his tone. “She’ll be a normal kid, it’ll be fine.”

Tommy’s tone took on a teasing nature. “Besides,” he smirked. “That girl offered t’take my patrol shift for a week if I told you she was on her own.”

Joel’s eyes went wide as he stared at his brother, the shit eating grin on Tommy’s face only growing wider.

“My guess is for that very reaction.” He pointed at Joel, wagging his finger gently. “But of course I said like hell. She ain’t goin’ on patrol. No fuckin’ way.”

Joel visibly relaxed, his eyes closing in relief before they flew open and back on his brother with a skeptical brow raised. Waiting.

“So instead,” Tommy went on, smile only broadening, “she offered t’take my shift muckin’ out the stalls in the stable for a week. Somethin’ ‘bout ‘it’s all shits and giggles, but now instead it’s shits for giggles’…. I don’t know. Half the time when she speaks it’s like another language.” He was grinning like a fool by now. “Reminds me ofâ€¦.” That same look of understanding passed between him and Joel again, only this time something heavier seemed to carry underneath. His voice softened. “She’s a good kid, Joel.”

As they sat in their shared moment, you decided after a minute to break the silence. “Too bad you didn’t tell him, then,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

Tommy turned to you. “What d’you mean?”

You couldn’t help the smirk. “I didn’t hear anything ‘bout her bein’ on her own.” You turned to Joel. “Did you?”

He was grinning softly. “I didn’t hear nothin’. What ‘bout you, Will?”

Looking over at Will, you saw him grin like a cat with a canary. “Not a peep.”

Tommy sighed. “You bastards.”

“Takes one t’know one, ya idiot,” Joel hummed under his breath, turning toward the tack for the horses that had been set on the wagon to move it under the makeshift barn that had been set up for the evening.

“You’re so mean,” Tommy groused half heartedly as Joel passed by, pouting his lip out in an attempt to garner sympathy from his big brother who just turned to him and wrinkled his nose up at him in disgust. The younger Miller mimicked the face and lightly shoved the shoulder of his older brother, causing him to stumble sideways.

“Boys!” You called out, grinning when they snapped their heads your way in unison. “You’re how old again?” Turning toward the cabin, you called over your shoulder toward the men, “I’m just sayin’…. But just for shits and giggles….”

“Ah, shaddup,” Tommy called over the laughter of the other two.

The rest of the party had just stepped out of the cabin to see what all the fuss was about, when suddenly there was a very high pitched yet muffled sneeze from behind you.

Knitting your brows, you turned to Kate who had just walked past. “Bless you?”

She looked just as confused. “That…. Wasn’t me.”

You turned to Joel. Only making it as far as to open your mouth and take in a breath before he cut you off.

“Ha ha, very funny, darlin’. Wasn’t me.”

Another attempted assasination of a sneeze sounded from the back of the cart under a tarp, and all eyes went to it, staring in disbelief.

Liam was the first to break the silence after a long moment. “Did that tarp just sneeze?”

A very quiet and muffled, “Ow,” came next, and you’d know that voice anywhere, no matter how squeaky it currently was.

Your feet were moving before your brain was fully processing what you were doing, carrying you toward the cart.

Jack was quick to chime in behind you, with an entirely necessary, “Did that tarp just talk?!”

A second female voice, this one much younger and sarcastic came from under the tarp, dry and droll, “Nice going, blondie.”

Joel’s eyes went wide. They pulled up to meet yours where you now stood on the opposite side of the cart.

He moved so fast, you could have sworn he had super speed. He was on top of the wagon wheel and ripping the tarp back to reveal your stowaways before you could even blink.

To be fair, you were only half a second behind him, ripping the tarp off the rest of the way from the other side.

In the dying light of the day, Jane and Ellie blinked up at the two pairs of eyes peering down at them from around the edge of the cart, looking justifiably sheepish at the attention. Five more sets of eyes appeared slowly, trickling in as they realized what was going on, only adding to the squirming of the two stowaways.

You were the first to break the silent little stare off. Holding the gaze of your friend, you hissed quietly, “What are you doing here?! You just got stabbed! Are you crazy?!”

Jane wasted no time in coming to her own defense. “I told you!” She tried to sit up quickly, and hissed when her wound protested at the movement. Before you could even reach out to offer help, Ellie was quick to help her sit up fully, putting Jane’s arm over her shoulder to ease her into the right position slowly. She spoke through a grimace, “I want that sewing machine, and I’m gonna get it!” Her eyes opened fully, her voice strong. “Come hell or high water.”

After you let out a strangled puff of air through your nose in aggravation, hand still held out to help coming back to land on the edge of the cart with a smack, all eyes turned to the teenager beside her.

Ellie merely shrugged, Jane’s arm still over her shoulder rising and falling with the movement. “I’m just here for the show.”

Xxx

Your small party sat outside around a campfire, milling about as the evening wore on, tending to the horses and other menial things before everyone was set to take off in the morning.

Will would not leave Jane’s side. He was her human crutch. Literally. He helped her hobble around, and from the look on her face, she was about to shove him to the ground and run, damn whatever happened to her wound.

He was a sweet boy, but a girl needed to pee in peace, stab wound or not.

“Are you going to chew my food for me, too?” She snapped as he broke a piece of beef jerky down into smaller pieces for her to eat.

He just stared at her for a moment, frozen.

“I’m injured, not broken.”

Will nodded after a long pause, looking down to the jerky in his hands as they rested in his lap. “You’re right. I’m sorry. This is just really tough stuff and I didn’t want you to hurt yourself trying to rip it apart.”

Jane sighed. “No, I’m sorry.” She rested a hand on his shoulder. “I appreciate all the help, I really do. I’m just a really independent person, and this…. All this needing help…. is driving me nuts.” Her hand fell down to rest on his. “Maybe we can compromise?”

He looked up and met her eyes with his own, smiling broadly. “I’d like that.”

Jane nodded once. “First things first,” she popped a bite sized piece of jerky in her mouth from the pile in his hand. “I get to pee without an escort.”

“But what if-”

“Will, I swear to God, don’t make me-”

“Fine! Fine, fine,” he held his hands up by his head in surrender, jerky flying every which way as he forgot he was holding it. He peered at it on the floor in disgust. “Oops?”

Jane had a sour expression on her face, her nose wrinkled up. “That’s yours now. Mmmmâ€¦. Floor jerky. Yum.”

You’d tried to return the pocket knife to Ellie now that she was back, but she wasn’t having it.

“Since you’re here, go ahead and take this….” Unzipping the main compartment of the fanny pack, you extended the pocket knife she’d gifted to you toward her.

Ellie lifted a hand, shaking it as she took a step back. “No. I don’t need it.”

Cocking your head to the side in question, you bent your elbow but kept your hand out, letting the pocket knife rest in your palm between the two of you. “You need something to protec-”

The teen pulled out a machete from a belt along her hips you hadn’t noticed before. Holding it sideways, she tilted the blade side to side, letting it catch the dying light of the day and the errant twinkle of firelight. “Liam already hooked me up. I’m good.”

You snorted. “But this is yours-”

“And now it’s yours,” she countered. “….for now.” Her cheeks flamed pink. “I want that back.” A look of determination came over her features as she jut out her chin to look down her nose at you. “So you better not die, Miss Fanny.”

Grinning, you tucked the knife back into your pack. “I’ll do my best, Sparky. I’ll do my best.”

Ellie grimaced. “Sparky?”

Zipping up your fanny pack, you looked up at her through your lashes. “It’s what you remind me of.” Once the knife was secure again, you lifted your head to look at her fully. “A spitfire.”

Her grimace deepened. “But Sparky? That’s like what you name a dog or something…. Or elderly men like Joel.”

Joel, who was only a few feet away tending to the fire sighed heavily, obviously listening in, before he chuckled lowly.

“Then what do you suggest?” Your arms came up to cross over your chest, weight shifting to rest on one leg as your hip popped out to the side.

“I dunno….” She looked at Joel. “He’s The Contractor,” she said it in a ridiculous voice, making you giggle, “so can’t I be something cool like that? Like, I don’t know…. The Lumberjack…. The Carpenter….”

“You have to do all those things to get those names, smartass,” Joel chimed in, not even bothering to turn around and face the conversation.

Ellie stuck her tongue out at him.

“The Artist….” You offered, smiling when you saw the lightbulb go off behind her eyes. Nodding once, your grin grew when her own started up her face. “The Artist it is…. Sparky.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sour look her face instantly took on.

Tommy leaned back in his spot beside Joel with a loud groan, a mischievous grin starting up his face. “I just call it like it is. She’s Trouble.”

Ellie gasped, whipping her head over to look at him as her arms came to cross over her chest defensively. “And after I didn’t lump you into old man Joel territory over there.” She gestured to the elder Miller with a bob of her head before setting her sights squarely on the younger sibling once again.

Tommy shrugged demurely.

She glared at him, the ferocity of her expression causing you to chuckle softly as Joel let out a low whistle. “You’re dead to me, old man.”

It had dwindled down to just the two Miller’s, Ellie, and yourself. Everyone else was inside the cabin, tucked in and tightened down for the night.

“Come first light, we need to get out of here,” Joel mumbled as he leaned over at the waist, poking the fire with a long stick to rearrange the logs that had turned to coals before adding a few new fresh ones. He turned his head to peer over at you, then set his gaze squarely on the redheaded teen who sat across from the two of you, palms extended toward the fiery heat and her eyes studiously on the flames.

“The council isn’t gonna take long to put two ‘n two together, and I want as much distance ‘tween us when they actually do so we can just get this damn thing over with.”

Rising to his full height with a quiet groan, he didn’t even seem to register Ellie slapping her palm to her forehead and rocking her head back and forth in disbelief as he glanced down at you where you sat against a log to his left, his face twisted slightly in trepidation. “…. I didn’t mean-”

“No, I agree,” you nodded once, pulling your eyes from staring at the fire to look at Ellie in amusement before lifting them all the way up to meet his with a small smile. “Bleeding heart Miller over here probably got the town on red alert.” Bobbing your head to gesture across the flames where Tommy leaned against another fallen log beside Ellie, you grinned at Joel’s haggard sigh as he took his brother in.

Ellie turned to look at the older man with a disapproving scowl, one side of her upper lip curling back as her eyes swept him from head to toe. You could see every Joel mannerism she had picked up on as she surveyed the younger Miller, and it took everything in you not to comment on it.

Turning back to the subject at hand, you tilted your head to the side as you took in the sleeping giant.

Tommy’s legs were outstretched with one crossed over the other easily at the ankle, hands clasped loosely in his lap, and head tilted back as snores that grew with each attempt tumbled out of his lips.

“Not to mention they’ll raise the alarm when they notice Ellie and Jane’re missin’, too,” you added, watching Tommy begin to mutter softly in his sleep. You tried not to let Ellie’s wide eyes that snapped to you affect you from going on, not able to bring yourself to meet them. “Not to mention Will.” You looked up at Joel as you spoke softly, his own gaze meeting yours. “Tommy’s one thing. All four of ‘em?” You shook your head as your gaze fell back to land on Tommy. “All four of ‘em’s gonna set off all kinds of bells.”

“Not to mention a missin’ cart,” Joel grumbled, turning toward Tommy with a scowl that made the corner of your mouth tug up just slightly. You noticed in your peripherals it had Ellie grinning, too. “Which requires a horse….” He tugged off his gloves from tending the fire and tucked them into his back pocket with unneeded aggression, shaking his head. “Stealin’ all kinds ‘f’things, aren’t we, little brother?”

Joel sighed yet again, this one quieter and more to himself than anything, before taking a step over towards his sibling and kicking the bottom of his shoe with the toe of his boot. As Tommy sat up abruptly with a snort, making Ellie choke back a laugh, Joel eased to the ground beside you with a groan he tried to hide behind tightly closed lips. “Get up, mighty warrior. Get inside with the others. I’ll take first watch.”

“Wasn’t asleep,” Tommy mumbled dejectedly, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand.

Ellie scoffed. “Dude, you sounded like a buzzsaw ate a bear. You were totally one hundred percent snoring.” She got to her feet, brushing off the front of her pants, then the seat.

“You were sawing logs, cart thief. Now get.” Joel jerked his head backwards toward the cabin. “‘nd keep an eye on Trouble here.”

Ellie glared at Joel, but quickly turned her attention onto Tommy, helping him to his feet. “Come on, Uncle Tommy.”

“Told you not t’call me that, weirdo,” Tommy grumbled, blinking too many times against the firelight as his eyes still adjusted to being awake.

The teen threaded her arm through his and helped to stabilize him, starting toward the cabin. “That goes both ways, asshat.”

“Y’know what? You’re rude,” Tommy mused, pulling away just enough to look down his nose at Ellie.

“And you’re old. Now come on, cart thief.” She started to pull him back toward the cabin, looking over her shoulder and winking at you. She looked at Joel and offered a small salute before facing back forward and giving the man a tug that sent him stumbling forward slightly. “Beddy bye is just a mere few steps away.”

Tommy mumbled something nearly unintelligible, but you thought you caught the name Sarah, not missing the way Joel stiffened at the word, staring into the fire in front of him, and Ellie looking back at the two of you over her shoulder with a somewhat panicked expression.

The teen focused on Joel for a long moment, her features pulling into something sad, then determined as she looked at Tommy and finally yanked him toward the cabin, pulling him along by his ear until they were safely inside.

As Tommy slowly got to his feet and ambled toward the cabin with Ellie, you smiled, always enjoying their banter. They obviously loved each other despite how they bickered.

And whatever this Sarah talk was, clearly it was something important, but it didn’t feel like the right time to ask about it yet. Maybe someday.

Joel glanced down at his watch briefly and cleared his throat before tugging the sleeve of his jacket down to cover it. Once the material was over the broken dial, he placed his palm over the shattered face through the fabric and rubbed it gently back and forth for a moment, staring at the flames before softly shaking his head as if coming out of a fog. He lifted his hand off the watch and set it on his thigh, his fingers gripping his flesh a little too tight and dimpling the denim under his touch.

It was then you made the connection that Sarah had to do with the watch. Somehow. And you knew that had to do with home. Texas. Back on outbreak day. The thing he missed the most.

You didn’t like where this was going.

Catching Joel’s eye, you leaned back into the log once again. “Mind if I join you?”

He just blinked for a long moment, making you grin and settle back into the log even further, letting your head loll back slightly. “Let me clarify. Mind if I stay?”

Simply shaking his head after a minute, Joel turned back to the fire after staring at you for a beat too long. “Don’t mind.” He was mumbling. “You’ll probably be bored silly, but so’ll I, so, I guess that makes me selfish.”

You snorted a laugh. “No, no. It makes you human.” Turning to the flames, you felt a different heat on the side of your face as you noticed his eyes on you again out of the corner of your field of view. He stared for a moment too long to be deemed just a friendly curiosity before Joel cleared his throat, looking down at his boots before his gaze quickly pulled right back up to you, painting your skin in varying shades of heat as you felt his eyes trace over your features once again.

Something about that heat was much preferable to the little pile of coals inches from the tips of your shoes. Much more comforting, too, considering where your mind kept wandering to. “Can’t quite get to a place my mind’ll let me sleep, anyway. Not after everything….”

He nodded in understanding, and you saw his face turn back towards the embers after a last lingering moment of taking you in. The trail he had traced on your skin with just a look still felt warm and pleasant, but now began to cool under the loss of his attention. You found yourself angling slightly to lean just a bit closer to him to try and make up for it, catch just a wave of body heat. It wasn’t working.

“How’d y’learn all that?” When you arched a brow at him in question, Joel pointed back toward where everything had happened with the raider scumbag, and the general direction of Jackson.

Turning your eyes from him to the fire, you stared at the flames as they crackled. “I don’t want t’talk about it.”

“That’s fine,” he drawled softly, lowering his hand. A moment passed before an even quieter, “But that don’t come from nothin’.” He jerked his head toward the direction this time. “We’ve all got our demons. Hell, I’ve got too many t’count.” He turned back to the fire as you turned to look at him again. “N’most’ve us’ve killed our fair share. That’s just life now-”

“No,” you interrupted him, focusing back on the heat of the flames and away from the fire in his eyes as they landed on you once again. “That I’ve never done.” You waited a moment before adding a quiet, “Least not yet.”

A memory, sparkly and worn, something you’d viewed time and time again as it haunted your every quiet moment, awake or in the dead of night began to tiptoe behind your eyes.

A voice you’d rather forget drifted to the front of your mind, clearer than anything else, as if it were right in front of you yet again.

“This is just how things work now.”

Night seemed to be its favorite, though; when your defenses were at their lowest. It’d come slinking in like a thief, ready to steal your sleep, your sanity, your time….

The rest of a phantom conversation began to play in the theater of your mind, unbidden and loud, consuming anything else in front of you in favor of its wicked games once again on repeat.

“I said no.” Your voice was weaker than you ever wanted it to be as you struggled against hands that had always been helpful, but now they only sought to keep you still. Angry tears threatened to crack your resolve with every word.

The next thing you knew his gun was out of its holster and in your hand aimed at his stomach. How it got there, you still didn’t know. It must have jumped.

Telekinesis.

Something.

It’s the only thing that makes sense. Because the alternative is that you grabbed it voluntarily, and that was a road you were not willing to travel down.

A sneer of disbelief colored his face as he held his hands up in surrender, looked down to the gun, then to you, eyes narrowing as he chuckled softly in amusement.

“You wouldn’t.”

He moved toward you, whether to move the gun or move you, you didn’t know.

You’ve analyzed it over and over again for years, and this is the point where it always goes black, blissfully giving you a respite from the rest of the gory details.

The echo of the hammer on the revolver cocking back in prime to shoot echoed in your mind then just as much as it did now. You remembered how the sound filled you with a grim satisfaction, a smirk crawling up your face now that was too terrified to even try then.

Blissful darkness continued to fill the next moments as you were lost in the memory, absently staring at the fire in silence, until a resounding phantom gunshot echoed around the walls inside your head when Joel said your name, making you jump.

When he said it again, the concern swelling in his voice made your breath stutter.

Blinking the darkness away, you saw the fire once again come into focus in front of you, and out of your peripherals, Joel leaning forward beside you, tilting his head to the side in question as he tried to catch your eye. His features were drawn cautiously.

Pulling your knees up closer to your chest as a chill ran down your spine that was from anything but being cold, you gave him a sideways look before turning back to the flames. “I’m fine.” You wrapped your arms around your legs to hold them tightly to yourself.

“Y’look it,” he teased.

Cutting your eyes his way, you found Joel smirking slightly at you, but his eyes still held concern as they studied your face, then made a run up and down the length of you, pausing on your hands briefly.

That’s when you realize you’d clenched them into fists so tight, you had indentations from your nails on your palm when you released them. With a sigh, you turned your stare back to the fire. “I’m fine, Joel.” Repeating the words didn’t help for some reason, so you continued on. “I…. I’ve never killed anyone, but….” Tilting your head back and pulling your knees tighter to your chest, you looked up at the stars. “I’ve come damn close once‘r’twice. Too close.”

“You don’t have t’talk abou-”

“The first person I lived next to in a QZ,” you started, smiling gently at his attempt to give you space on the topic. “He didn’t like the…. What did y’call it? Smelly noise?”

Joel scoffed in amusement, meeting your gaze as you lowered your eyes back onto him before staring toward the fire again absently.

“Came over after about a week t’tell me so, and I guess somethin’ in the way I said hello sounded like an invitation-”

The man stiffened beside you. “Y’know that’s not-”

Reaching out, you rested your hand on his forearm. “I’m kidding, Joel. I know I didn’t do anything, the man was just a pig.” You looked at him. “But thank you, though.” Turning back to the fire to find the words again, you took a deep breath. “Long story short, he tried somethin’, told me it was just the times we live in now, so I grabbed the gun he was wearin’ and threatened to teach him how no means no.”

A snort of laughter left Joel along with a gentle shake of his head as he too stared at the flames, giving you the space to finish your story.

“He didn’t think I would do it.” You went silent. The next time you spoke, even you could barely hear your own voice. “I probably should’ve. He went on t’do it to many others after me. Joined FEDRA. Should’ve seen that one comin’.” Clearing your throat, you shook your head and went on, voice a little stronger. “I shot him in the foot. Well, first I fired a warning shot to the side. He made some stupid comment about how he likes them crazy and lunged so I….” You made a finger gun with your left hand, pointed at Joel’s foot to your right, and imitated a shooting sound. “He gave me so many nicknames after that. So colorful. You crazy bitch, and-”

“I think I can paint a pretty clear picture, no need t’go on,” Joel said softly. His voice was gruff, not towards you, but the situation you’d found yourself in and the man with no name.

You nodded. “He’s why I left. After he joined FEDRA, he made my life hell. Made sure I got less ration cards, blacklisted me, caused all sorts’f problems. So I used what I had left t’pay someone to smuggle me out’f the QZ.”

“Nothing’s happened out here?”

“You mean outside the QZ?” He nodded. “No. I mean besides some infected, but I don’t count them. They’re technically already dead; it's just the fungus at that point. If we’re splittin’ hairs.” Looking out at the tree line, you sighed forlornly. “I used t’love mushrooms.”

After a second of silence, Joel burst out laughing, a low gravelly sound rumbling from deep in his chest. It vibrated you from your spot next to him, your very bones seeming to resonate with him. He was under your skin, and that made you smile.

“Y’know,” he started after a minute. “I just heard ‘bout the most Texan come out’f your mouth in the last five minutes than the whole time I’ve known you.”

“The most….?”

“‘I’ve come damn close once‘r’twice,’” he mimicked your words from earlier, emphasizing you’re lackadaisical grammar.

“Pfffft,” you blew out a huff at him. “Did not,” you countered, pushing his shoulder slightly.

“You’re slippin’” he teased with a grin, watching the flames.

His smile was contagious. “I’m just comfortable, is all. Comfortable and tired.”

“Oh good gracious, there it is again.” He looked at you mischievously. “Tired.” He drawled the word ridiculously now.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “I do know how to shoot a gun, Joel.”

He nodded once in understanding. “Yes, ma’am.” Quickly turning his eyes back to the fire, he glanced back up at you only once briefly, the side of his mouth twitching up before his eyes fell back down to the wall of heat.

As you sat around the campfire, it had dwindled down to just the two of you. You watched him as the firelight reflected in his eyes, a small smile continuing to pull up his face as he stared into the flames.

“What?” He asked after a minute, pulling only his eyes up toward you, his head still angled down. “I got somethin’ on my face?”

You snorted. “Besides your age, which you wear brilliantly, by the way? No.”

“Ouch,” he chuckled. “Thank you? ….I think?”

Grinning, you leaned your shoulder into his before sitting back upright. “You’re welcome.” Despite having sat back how you had been, the sides of your arms now brushed one another’s, and neither of you made an effort to move.

“So.”

He finally turned his head to fully look at you. “Yeah?”

“Why are you so opposed to Ellie moving into the garage?”

He sighed, glancing over his shoulder toward the cabin before looking out across the small camp toward the tree line. “Ugh, not you, too.”

“Is there something you’re worried about, or is it just…. Puttin’ your foot down?”

Joel heaved another sigh, eyes darting back and forth along the trees as he stared at them absently. “It’s…. I don’t know.” He paused, letting out a breath before taking another deep one as he started again. “We…. We went on a really, uh, tough trip together to get here. To Jackson, I mean. All the way from Boston. It’s been a rough road for her.”

“For the both of you, it seems,” you offered quietly. He looked at you and you shrugged. “You traveled together. If it was hard for her, it was for you, too. That’s just how it goes.”

“Yeah, I….” He looked at the flames. “I guess so.” He smiled softly before it faded. “I guess I just don’t want her that far from me.” He looked down at his hands, fiddling with his fingers, the tips of them dancing along the band of his watch before he closed his hand around the worn fabric. “Not yet.”

“It’s five extra steps, Joel.”

“I can keep an eye on her better down the hall.”

“You walked across the country together, a few more steps won’t break you.”

“You don’t know that,” he objected quickly, somewhat defensively, meeting your eyes again with his own as a dry chuckle painted the last of his words.

Smiling softly, you leaned further into his side slowly as you looked into the dwindling flames. “No, you’re right. I don’t.” He began to relax, his shoulders rolling forward as his weight slightly melted into you, staring at the flames once again himself. “But I’d like to think I’ve come to know you.”

Joel froze, his body tense once again as he listened to you go on.

Looking up at him through your lashes, you saw the firelight dancing across his face, sending him into all kinds of shadows. It could have been a trick of the light, but he looked almost nervous? His eyes were definitely apprehensive, and once you noticed that, you lowered your gaze down to his lap where his hand was once again digging into the fabric of his jeans.

“I don’t know what or who happened to you, and I’m not asking for details, that’s up to you. What I am saying is….” reaching up and across, you rested your left hand on his left forearm where it continued to press into yours with each deeper breath either of you dared to take. A small smile worked its way up your features as you saw his hand relax and unclench against the denim, his palm coming to rest on your knee instead. “You’re on a supply run for a teenaged girl to get paint. And to me?”

You turned just enough to catch his eye, finding his gaze already on you. When you realized that, you had to really think to remember what you wanted to say, swallowing roughly to remember how words worked as your eyes flicked between his own, your voice now something incredibly soft. “To me that paints a beautiful picture.”

Joel scoffed, his eyes studying your face for a long moment before he turned back to the fire that was now mostly coals, and started laughing. The sound started quiet but grew with each new round until it was a truly ruckus thing. “That…. was truly awful. And you say my puns are bad.”

You grinned as you sat back upright, pulling your knees tighter to your chest so you could rest your chin on them. He kept his palm on your leg, letting it ride just a bit above your knee and squeezed. “I have a bad influence. My roommates? Awful. All the time. Horrible, horrible puns.”

“Oh, really?” He arched a brow at you, giving your leg still in his grip a small teasing shake.

With a sigh, you tilted your head to the side to rest on the backs of your hands on your knees, studying him and trying to keep the damn smile off your face. “Yeah, they think they are so funny, but it’s really sad.”

He tilted his head back, looking down his nose at you in amusement. “Well, maybe you should teach them a thing or two.”

You grinned. It was inevitable. “Yeah. Maybe I will.”

Xxx

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