#yeah one rifle outta do it

[70sscifiart]

Rudolf Sieber-Lonati’s cover art for Larry Brent #159, an installment in a long-running German pulp horror series

#Larry Brent #Rudolf Sieber-Lonati #eye #yeah one rifle outta do it #horror

[gogogodzilla]

day 19, 69ing

john hancock x reader warnings: nsfw 18+, drug use, sex while high, teasing, dirty talk, fingering, hancock calls reader sunshine kinktober ☠︎︎ main masterlist ☠︎︎ read on ao3

To Hancock, getting high was second nature. He was always popping one chem or another on your travels. You didn’t mind. Whatever he had to do to get through the day.

You ventured through the gritty streets of Goodneighbor, looking for your friend. You had a surprise for him, after all. The raucous sounds of the Third Rail on a Saturday night graced your ears, and you found yourself being pulled there. 

You nodded to the security guard and descended the steps. Smooth jazz and the low murmur of voices greeted you as you entered the bar. A grin fought itself onto your features as you spotted, through the cigarette smoke and lively conversations of the patrons, your favorite Mayor seated at the bar, talking to Whitechapel Charlie. 

You sidled up next to him, leaning on the bar, nodding to Charlie as you sat. “Room for one more?” 

“Look who decided to finally show up,” Hancock drawled, pushing his tricorn hat back to let his eyes rake over your form.

“The super mutants trying to kill me didn’t seem to care that I had a date tonight,” you retorted, chuckling a little at your joke. 

You and Hancock weren’t exactly together, but you couldn’t deny that you felt strongly toward him. The lingering glances and semi-sexual remarks while you were traveling were enough of an indication that Hancock liked you too. 

The usual grin on his face widened at your reply. He rubbed his chin, a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Date, huh?” 

You leaned into his space, emboldened by his gaze on yours. “Yeah, although it’s a little crowded in here,” you titled your head, glancing around the room and its various patrons. 

“Why don’t you and me get outta here, sunshine?” Hancock suggested as he slid from his stool and offered you an arm. 

You stood and took his arm, “Thought you’d never ask, mayor.” 

You were giddy as you made the short walk to the Old State House. While on your adventures out in the Commonwealth, you’d found a bottle of Day Tripper. It was popular back in your day for those attempting to escape the troubles of their everyday life, and you didn’t think that Hancock had ever tried it before. 

Fahrenheit nodded to both of you as you entered the old building from her usual place at the bottom of the spiral staircase. Her gaze danced between the two of you for a moment before Hancock led you up the stairs. 

You sauntered toward one of the couches in the middle of the room, and Hancock shut the double doors to his room behind him. Your heart rate picked up at the telltale sound of the lock clicking. You took your seat and patted the cushion next to you. 

He sat next to you, eyes dancing across your features. “There’s another reason why I was late,” you mentioned as he reclined and threw an arm over the couch. 

He hummed, turning his head to look at you. You rifled through your bag before your hands wrapped around the blue-green bottle. You pulled it out and handed it to him. 

He took it from you and raised an eyebrow as he read the label. It was white and covered with flowers. From what you’d heard about the effects, you assumed that the label was supposed to reflect how you felt while you were on it. 

“Where’d you find this?” 

“West Roxbury Station, out by University Point. I wasn’t lying about the super mutants trying to kill me,” you laughed, giving him a half-shrug. 

His mouth curved into a smile, “You’re somethin’ else, sunshine.” 

You inched closer toward him, your heart fluttering in your chest. “I thought we could try it together,” you divulged, biting the inside of your cheek. 

His grin grew wider, “Didn’t take you for the partying type.” 

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” you replied, coyly. 

Hancock kept his eyes on yours as he undid the orange top of the bottle and shook out two small pills into one of his hands. 

He picked up one pill, “Open up, sunshine,” he ordered, smirking. 

Your breathing hitched before you opened your mouth for him, allowing your tongue to stick out over your bottom lip. Hancock held out the pill for you pinched between his thumb and pointer finger. You met his gaze as you leaned forward and you wrapped your lips around his fingers. His thumb escaped your lips to cradle your chin and his pointer finger stayed trapped within the wet confines of your mouth. 

You were a little surprised at the boldness of your actions, but the thought was quickly replaced by much more obscene ones as you swallowed around Hancock’s finger and a soft growl escaped him. 

He retracted his hand and popped the remaining pill into his mouth. He reclined against the red cushions of the couch, waiting for the effects to kick in. Slowly, the world around you began to transform. Color intensified and became more vivid, time seemed to slow, and the air around you hummed with energy. 

Hancock chuckled as you looked around the room, “Welcome to my world. Ain’t it a trip?” 

A laugh bubbled in your throat, and your eyes met for just a moment. Warmness spread throughout your body like the heat from the good whiskey Charlie served on special occasions. Hancock’s eyes were half-closed and the corners of his mouth were turned up in a lazy grin. 

You watched as he slowly sat up and tugged off his coat, also feeling the warmth that felt like it was humming under your skin. His shirt shone like a beacon in the light of the nearby lantern in your drug-induced vision. It was like your limbs were moving on their own as they reached out and stroked the fabric on his bicep. 

His breathing hitched in his throat as your fingers trailed up and over his shoulder to the bare skin of his neck. Something inside you ignited as soon as your fingertips dragged over the column of his throat, and it felt like your entire being was being drawn toward him. 

You crawled toward him, settling yourself on his lap as you cradled his face in your hands. He chuckled as he gripped your thighs, keeping you still. 

“I… need to touch you,” you murmured as you leaned forward and nuzzled into the crook of his neck. It wasn’t enough. 

You moved your face upward, eyebrows furrowed. “Need to taste you,” you practically begged as your lips ghosted against his. 

He leaned forward, and your lips collided. Your movements were clumsy, the drug making your muscles uncooperative. Your senses were heightened, and you could taste a hint of the liquor Hancock had earlier on his tongue. You groaned against his lips, which were rough and marred against your own. You wondered if other parts of him tasted this good. 

You pulled away and a small string of saliva connected the two of you. You moved to press sloppy kisses along the column of his throat, letting your tongue drag over the skin there. Hancock’s hands wandered over your body, squeezing and kneading wherever you could. He probably would’ve ripped your vault suit off of you if his limbs were working properly. 

“Wanna taste you, sunshine,” he rasped out as he grabbed your hips and ground them against his hardened length. You whined at the sensation as arousal coursed through your veins. 

“Lay back,” you ordered, shoving his shoulder lightly. Hancock followed your orders as you stood on shaky legs. You slowly peeled off your vault suit, thankful for the zipper, and Hancock palmed himself as he watched you through lidded eyes. 

You tugged your underwear down and kicked them to the side. You were practically drooling at the sight of Hancock before you. His shirt was open, exposing his scarred chest to you. He had unbuttoned his pants and freed his cock from its confines. He slowly stroked himself as you neared. 

In your drug-induced haze, an idea struck you. You straddled Hancock’s face so you could easily lean down and take his cock in your mouth. You could both taste each other that way. 

His hands moved to grip your thighs as you hovered over him. His breath fanned against your core and you shuddered, rocking your hips slightly. 

“All for me,” Hancock breathed against you, a hint of astonishment in his voice. 

You nodded as you reached down and began to slowly stroke him. “Only for you,” you slurred, tongue heavy in your mouth. You were already drunk on the feeling of him. 

Your grip around his cock tightened as he took you in his mouth. Your thighs squeezed around him as he devoured you, swiping his tongue through your folds before moving to circle your clit. 

He bucked his hips, reminding you that you had a job to do. You pumped your hand slowly before swiping your thumb over the tip of his cock, gathering the precum dripping from there. 

Hancock groaned against your core as you stroked him, sending vibrations through your body. You rutted your hips against his face, chasing your high. 

Hancock dipped his tongue into your entrance, and you leaned forward, moaning. You swirled your tongue around his red-hued tip, and your eyes practically rolled in the back of your head from the taste of him. 

Hancock’s grip tightened on your thighs as he brought you even closer. Moans escaped him as you slowly bobbed your head and clenched around nothing. 

You hollowed your cheeks around him, taking him even deeper than before. Your movements became sloppy as you neared the precipice. Hancock’s mouth wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced before, and coupled with the finger he slid inside you, your release was rapidly approaching. 

He quickly added another finger and pumped them inside you while he sucked on your clit. You moaned around his cock before relaxing your jaw to take all of him. 

Hancock’s tongue circled your clit once and then twice, and then you were coming undone above him. Pleasure wracked through your entire body in waves, and your thighs began to shake. Hancock continued his efforts, allowing you to ride out your high. 

He tensed under you before coming with a strangled groan. You pulled away and watched as white tendrils coated your hand. You continued to stroke him until pleasure veered into overstimulation and he tapped your thigh. 

You slowly slid off of him, both coming down from the high of your orgasm and the high from the drug. You giggled a little as you took his sash and cleaned him off. You didn’t expect your plan to work this well. 

“I’m glad we did that,” you whispered as you lay on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. 

Hancock chuckled, “I should party with you more often.”

#fallout 4 #fallout #john hancock #fo4 #sole survivor #john hancock x sole survivor #john hancock x reader #kinktober #no y/n #reader insert #kinktober 2023 #john hancock fo4 #john hancock fallout 4 #hancock x sole survivor #love that my 100th post is this one #john hancock smut

[galaxysgal]

just started s10 when tami is pregnant asf so now i’m thinking about lip with a lovey needy pregnant gf 🧸🩷 ((not edited + been awake 24hrs+))

“good morning baby,” you croon, watching lip come sleepily down the stairs. he runs a hand through soft, messy curls and waves to franny, who had started giggling the moment she saw him. you sat at the table with her while debbie was in the shower, filing out your crossword and letting franny ask you questions she had about her new baby cousin in your tummy.

“what uh-, fuck, what time is it? how long’ve you been up?” lip asks, rifling through the cabinet for a half-eaten, half-stale box of cereal. he’s tired, you can see the dark circles from across the room. you’d made the decision to let him sleep in, leaving him in the morning with a sweet kiss on his cheek before drawing the curtains and shutting the door.

you shrug, “about noon… been down here since seven. this baby sure is a gallagher, ‘cause he’s real hard headed and stubborn,” you say, playfully pointed at your baby bump.

“baby gallagher,” he mumbles, almost in awe as he pours two bowls of cereal.

you stand, one hand on your back to ease the constant weight of your pregnancy belly, and make your way over to lip. he smiles knowingly as you hold out the fruit basket to him, and takes a banana to cut up in your cheerios. just the way you like it.

he’s thoughtful in that way, knowing what you wanted, what you needed, understanding you in a way no one has before. while lost in thought you feel his arms wrap around your middle, hands resting gently on your baby bump. then, you feel your son kick right under lip’s hand. sure, there’s discomfort attached, but it’s all worth it when you look back at the sweet smile on your boyfriend’s face.

“hey buddy, how ya doin’ in there? hm?” he murmurs down toward your tummy.

“he’s been rowdy this morning,” you confess. you’d barely slept because of your son’s constant kicking. “i think he’s ready to be outta there, aren’t you little man?”

lip laughs softly at that, moving to finish slicing up the banana for your cereal. “you should’ve woke me up. i could’a helped try and get ya comfortable or somethin’,” he tells you, turning his head towards you with concerned eyes.

you just shake your head with a dismissive smile. “you needed the rest, lip. i let you sleep in.”

“hey, look at me will ya?” he says, reaching a hand out to guide your cheek. you meet his eyes, seeing him softly search your face. “you gotta rest too, mama.”

you shrug him off, but fall in at his side as grabs the milk from the fridge. “baby keeps me up, then i think about all the shit i gotta do and-“

“nuh uh, none of that, we’re in this together yeah?” he says bluntly, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“of course,” you respond with a kiss to his cheek. his skin is still warm from sleep, and you breathe in the scent of tobacco and cologne.

lip nods, satisfied. “there we go, end of discussion. you wake me up next time, you hear me?” he says playfully. he turns around to grab the shaker of cinnamon but you reach out and catch his sleeve, pulling him in so your faces are nearly touching.

“thank you,” you murmur to him, hand coming up to stroke his cheek. “and i love you. so, so much.”

you can feel lip heat up at your words, but he kisses you softly instead. the two of you are so close together, the world falling silent as you lived in this brief, shared moment.

“yeah, yeah,” he murmurs, laughing softly, but after a moment his shifts into a genuine expression as he adds, “i love you too. so much.”

end.

#i’m high asf and sleep deprived but i needed to say thjs #tbh this could be nonsense k didn’t rlly proofread #and also i’m so fucked up rn !! #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher fanfiction #lip gallagher x oc #lip gallagher x y/n #mags writes #🍃 posting #shameless fanfiction

[slutforsnow]

billy with sassy!reader?

reader always talks back to ppl and accidentally does it to billy and he's not to found of it.

Watch Your Mouth, Darlin'

Tw/CW: will get suggestive!!

A/N: Ofc!! I'm not good with sass so this may end up being a bratty!reader instead of sassy!reader so apologies if it comes off as that 🥲 she/her reader :]

"What? I'm just saying,' if a man can't bring a woman pleasure, then he can't call himself a man until he does!" She exclaimed to Jease, throwing her hands up in exasperation.

"Oh yeah? What would you know about pleasure then, darlin' cause I reckon you've never had a taste," Jesse retorted jokingly as he loaded his rifle.

"And I bet you've never had a woman to pleasure, Evans," She sassed back, crossing her arms over her chest with a triumphant smirk on her face.

Billy simply shook his head, chuckling to himself. He enjoyed listening to Jesse argue with his girl because no matter what he said, she'd always find a way to sass him back and shut him up. He found it funny at times, but at others, Billy had to teach his girl how to behave when she stepped outta line.

"Alright, settle down, princess, he gets it," Billy called, chuckling as she opened her mouth to continue.

"Mmmmmm..." She hummed, letting an evil grin grow onto her features, stealing his hat off his head. "Why don't you come and make me, cowboy?"

The gang let out a couple of snickers as she teased her lover, knowing this could go one of two ways. Either you gave in willingly or Billy would fuck the sass out of her and they'd have another sleepless night due to her moans, mewls, and screams of pleasure.

"Princess, you know the rule. Dont make me have to fuck that attitude outta ya," Billy warned as she teasingly put the old worn and torn hat on her head.

"So? I can do whenever I want," She retorted, smirking and hopping up onto a hay bale only to regret it moments later. Billy had stood up quickly, scooping her up onto his shoulder. One arm around her legs and his hat in the other as he carried her in her into the large house they were staying in to lay low for a while.

'Shit.' She thought, realizing he was being serious and she attempted to try and wiggle free. "Billy, I'm sorry-"

"Too late, now you gotta learn to watch your pretty little mouth, darlin," He told her, laying her onto the bed and setting his hat on the nightstand. She was in for a long night.

Tags: @hearts4court @snows-wife @delusionalbunni @kiraflowersworld @victory-scream0462 @curled-hair-red-lips @morallygrayboys @phoward89 @etfrin @xoxo-eyeballs @acidaciruela @thereeallink @graciouslyc @wanda-maximoff-enthusiast @firstworldproblemthings

#billy the kid #billy the kid smut #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #billy the kid x sassy!reader #afab reader #fem reader #billy the kid gif #billy mccarty #billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid icons #billy the kid imagine #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid suggestive #william h bonney x reader #kid antrim #kid antrim x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coryo smut #coryo snow #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x reader smut #tom blyth x oc #tom blyth x you #tom blyth imagine #tom blyth #coryo x reader smut #coryo x reader

[mykneeshurt]

Breath work

Am I a ghost simp? Damn right baby, since I played that menace back in 2009. All the edits on tik tok have gotten me feral and frothing at the mouth. He could break my neck and I’d thank him, so have a quick one from me (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

I have other ideas I’m working on, but I work full time so please bare with ✨

Feedback always welcome, I DO NOT own the mask line we all know and love, it was too good not to put in here. I DO NOT own any of the characters mentioned. I do not own the gif, credited on the tag line.

Warnings - breath play, vaginal sex, rough, unprotected sex, quick sex, no minors! Get outta here.

I tried to keep him the silent type, and everything he says I said to myself in his accent first lmfao to see if it sounded good 😂

The first time you met Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was when you were introduced to Task Force 141, as a new Special Forces Sargent. The rest of the team welcomed you with open arms, keen to get to know you. John ‘Soap’ McTavish and you soon become good friends. But Ghost? Nothing. He barely even acknowledged you. You were all currently at base in Herefordshire, training whilst waiting for your next mission instructions.

Your down time was spent at the firing rage letting off some steam. It was early November so there was a chill in the air. As you led on your stomach lining up your target you took in a deep breath to steady your aim. Squeezing the trigger the shot fired and the butt of the gun kicked back into your firm shoulder. Bullseye. Smiling to your self you sat up on your knees taking in the clean morning air. ‘Not bad’ a gruff voice rang out behind you making you jump. Spinning around you saw Ghost stood before you, his intimidating frame casting a shadow with the morning sun.

‘Not bad?’ You asked completely offended, who does he think he is? He barely speaks two words to you and now he’s critiquing your marksmanship? You got to your feet in a huff and barged past him, placing your rifle on the table. He stood arms crossed against his wide chest, his biceps bulging underneath his khaki jumper. You stood drinking him in, all of him. He stood at roughly 6’2, towering above you and you 5’5 medium build. Thick strong thighs sat under his tight cargo trousers begging to be touched.

He let out a small sigh ‘yeah not bad, could do with brushing up on your breath work though.’ Was he actually doing this? You were a special forces Sargent who specialised in weapons? Sure he was good, you’d seen his record but was he as good as you? Surely not?

Scowling at him you crossed your own arms closing off your body, ‘fine, you can show me. Seeing as I’m clearly not up to your standard.’ Grabbing your rifle you walked back over to him slamming it into his chest. Fuck, you thought to yourself, his chest was rock hard. You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you let go of the gun, catching his gaze.

If you’d have known any better you’d say you saw a slight movement in his eyes indicative of a smirk. Ghost led prone on the floor, his right knee bent parallel to his hips. His ass looked phenomenal in that position, it was only when you heard 3 rounds go off did you avert your gaze back to the target. Damn, fucker was fast. Seeing him do that in the flesh was … something else. He peered over his shoulder at you, the white skull detail was stark contrast the black paint he kept on around his eyes. ‘Try again, I’ll help you’ he gestured.

Rolling your eyes you led next to him on the floor, you’d never been this close before. Your left arm brushed against his as you took hold of your rifle, your hip in line with his as you brought you knee up to position. You took aim as Ghost took hold of your shoulders slightly altering your position. His grip was firm, his large hands encasing your shoulders with ease. He trailed his hands to your ribs ‘breathe in’ he commanded. Taking a breath in to steady yourself was torture, you felt like you were going to explode. ‘Hold it here’ he said as he gripped your chest, your heart was pounding at his touch. As you held your breath at his desired depth you squeezed the trigger, one, two, three times. Hitting the bullseye again but this time it felt cleaner.

‘Better.’ He said finally letting go of your ribs. You let out a shaky breath, ‘thanks, sir.’ You mumbled, feeling him slightly tense next to you. If there was one thing you had noticed about Ghost, it was his eyes. Dusky blue peering out of his black skull balaclava which he never took off. They always seemed so empty, glazed over and yet always full of emotion. He never outwardly showed much emotion during missions, he and Soap were close and he trusted his team. Soap always told you about his great sense of humour, but he was yet to share that with you. You were nearly always paired with Gaz or Captain Price in the field.

Ghost got to his feet before helping you up, his firm grip on your hand and the ease he pulled you up with further made your heart pound in your chest. He’s your lieutenant, your superior, you shouldn’t be having these feelings … these thoughts. Your mind wandered to what his hands would feel like around your thro … ‘alright love?’ Ghost asked interrupting your train of thought. Flustered you let go of his hand and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. ‘Oh, yeah, sorry, not with it today.’ Your hair was normally slicked back into a tight bun, as per regulations. But no one bothered you out here this early, so you’d wear your hair in a loose plait instead.

‘That was a good shot, hold your breath just like I showed you. You’ll be making cleaner shots in no time.’ You smiled up at him through your thick lashes. ‘How did you know I was down here?’ He visibly tensed, staring with his arms crossed across his chest, staring right at you. ‘I always know where you are.’ He replied bluntly.

He took a step forward closing the space between you, his gaze never faltered from yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and you instinctively took a step backwards. ‘W … what?’ You stammered, surprised but not afraid.

He reached forward and grabbed your belt pulling you into him, you slammed into his firm chest. He snaked his hand to the back of your neck, his gaze becoming suddenly more intense. You placed your hands on his abdomen, your nails firmly gripping his jumper. You could feel his breath beneath his mask brushing over your flushed skin. Short shallow breaths escaped your lips, as you searched his eyes for any clue of what he was thinking.

Nothing.

‘Simon?’ You stuttered beneath your breath ‘what are you doing?’ His hand cradled the base of your skull and neck, his thumb and forefinger adding slight pressure. His eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and back again, pupils dilated. Yet he still seemed un phased by what he was doing. You licked your dry plump lips, all moisture seeming to have escaped your mouth. His eyes flicked down again, if you hadn’t have been concentrating you would have missed it. His gloved hand still gripping onto your belt as he pulled you closer still. He brought his head to your ear ‘I 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 want to know where you are’ he growled.

You clenched your thighs together, his deep voice ricocheting through your body. The tension between you two was building, something had to give. It was a matter of time of who would break first. His clean but musky smell invaded your nostrils further heightening how aroused you were. You looked up at him with doe like eyes, lips slightly parted.

‘Take it off’ you asked looking at his mask.

‘Negative.’

‘Why? Are you ugly?’ You smirked.

‘Quite the opposite’ he replied, sounding amused. Slowly you creeped your hand up his chiselled body, searching his eyes for any objection. As you got to the base of his mask you slipped a finger under the fabric, the pressure of the back of your neck increased. His eyes never straying from yours, fuck this guy is intense.

You slowly brought your other hand to the bottom of his mask and began to roll it up. His defined stubbled chin and full lips came into view. Slowly you traced your thumb around his lips, before slowly dragging your thumb on his bottom lip. Managing to get a glimpse of his white straight teeth. His grip on your belt tightened, so much so you could hear the crunch of the leather. His breath smelt like mint as it caressed your face. You traced your thumb again, this time placing your other hand on the side of his neck. His pulse felt steady, almost relaxed, because of course it did. His skin was warm and soft to the touch, as you grazed your nails along the back of his neck. You broke eye contact first, glancing at his lips, silently begging him to make to make the first move.

Without warning he dropped his hand from your neck to your ass and lifted you with ease. Coaxing you to wrap your legs around his waist, which you did without hesitation. He took a few steps before your back met with the brick wall of the shelter with a dull thud. The thud caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips whilst you tried to catch your breath. As your lips parted Ghost met them with his own, his kiss tasted of pure desperation. Desperation to taste you, to feel you, to claim you. His other hand still cradled the back of your head, where he placed it to stop it from hitting the brick.

He led the kiss, opening your mouth with his, his tongue meeting yours as he tightened his grip in your hair. Breathless he pulled away ‘fuckin’ hell’ he muttered. Another moan escaped you as you caught your breath, tightening your legs around his waist. Begging for some friction to release the tension. ‘Dirty fuckin’ bitch’ he growled before reclaiming your mouth. He lightly tapped your thigh for you to get down, he lowered you to the floor not breaking the kiss.

As he kissed you, you heard a belt buckle rattle before he pulled your plait, forcing you to look at him. ‘I wanna see how good your breath work really is.’ He slowly wrapped his belt around your neck before pulling it tight, ‘that’s it’ he whispered in your ear in a low tone. He pulled the belt tighter until you had just enough room to inhale. You gripped his forearm, feeling his muscles tighten and he gripped the belt. Each fibre rippling under your fingertips. ‘Don’t touch the belt sweetheart, or I’ll stop.’

Nodding, he turned you around and pushed your torso into the red brick. He pulled your elbows behind your back holding them in his firm grip. His free hand slid under your top, his gloved hand grazed your skin. You just about managed to squeeze your vocal cords together ‘the glove … off’, you panted. Ghost placed the tip of his gloved finger on your lips, as you bit the tip of the glove he slid his hand out. Placing his hand once again on your stomach, this time the sensation of skin on skin burned through you.

He undid your belt and popped open your trousers, slowly working his hand inside. His fingertips brushed over your black lace panties, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He yanked your trousers down just below the crease of your ass. A sharp blow hit the right cheek before he pulled your panties down also. He pulled your hips back into him forcing you to stand at an angle, your cheek pressed into the wall. You could feel his gaze burning into you, ‘fuck … me’ you groaned through gritted teeth and a constricted throat. He caressed your thigh ‘patience love.’

An eager but exasperated moan left you as you looked over your shoulder at him. Silently pleading. He’d pulled his mask back down over his lips, once again becoming Ghost, looking back at you through hooded black eyes. Without warning he cupped your pussy, your eyes rolled back from the much needed touch. He let out a grunt of approval before sinking a finger into you. You arched your back into him, this wasn’t want you wanted, what you needed. What you needed was for him to fuck you.

Sensing this, he lined up his cock and thrust into you. Forcing you to take him in one go, it was the most pleasurable burn. Breathy moans filled the morning air between you. He steadied your hips with his hand as he quickly established a firm pace. Letting go of your elbows you placed them on the wall in-front of you for extra support. The shape of your body in this position drove him crazy. The defined muscles of your back peeking out from the bottom of your top, tensing with every thrust. He grabbed your wrist, guiding it down to your clit, instantly understanding you began rubbing firm circles.

He unexpectedly let out a small whimper from underneath his mask, he was close. ‘Good girl’ he praised, ‘just like that … fuck.’ You were close too, the pressure began building, your muscles becoming tighter. Hoarse moans left your throat, the belt feeling tighter and tighter. You came just before he did, clenching around his generous sized cock. He slid his hand under your top grasping at the untouched skin of your chest. ‘Please don’t stop’ you gasped, desperate for air. The pleading tone in your voice sent him over the edge. He came in your still pulsating pussy, filling you with his cum. You looked over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed, meeting his eyes with a filthy smile on your lips as he filled you up.

His rhythm slowed until he eventually stopped, making sure every last drop was inside you. As he pulled out he watched as yours and his cum dripped out of your pussy slowly. Not being one for waste he trailed his finger up your thigh to push it back in, the feel of his finger sliding back in was bliss. He undid his belt from around your neck as you pulled up your trousers, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Your face still flushed you looked up at him ‘not bad Riley, but maybe I can help you with your technique.’

#fan fic smut #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #smut

[meowmeowriley]

Anybody else see that art on Twitter of Soap as an Animal Crossing villager, and then the other art of that Soap sitting on Doom Guy Ghost's shoulder? Anybody else feeling so incredibly normal about it? Anyway. Have this.

***

"C'mon uncle John, would it kill you to smile? Pretend you wanna be here?" Soap was doing his best, he really was. He loved his nephew, and when his sister Isla said he couldn't go to the convention because it was too far away and he didn't have an adult, well what are uncles for?! But he hadn't taken into account that 1) he's never been to a cosplay convention and 2) he's seriously out of his depth when it comes to the colorful characters around them. If anyone asked he'd be mortified to admit that he'd spent the better part of his leave following his nephew around, taking pictures of him with characters from various video games and anime. No, he'd be keeping this experience to himself.

"I'm not not enjoying myself." Andrew rolled his eyes. "I just don't know any of the characters. I haven't played a video game in ages, and I've never watched anime." Plenty of other soldiers did watch anime, and there was nothing wrong with that, he'd just never joined in.

Andy snorted. "What was the last game you played, old man?" Soap resented that. He wasn't even thirty yet.

"I dunno, Halo maybe?"

"The original?!"

"Think so." Soap said with a shrug.

"So the year I was born. Got it." Yikes.

Suddenly Andy was excitedly pointing at a large man in green and gray armor, in the middle of a crown. "Oh you have to recognize that guy!" And did he ever. How could anyone not recognize Doom Guy? And he was holding the BFG.

"Ohhhohohoho yeah. I know Doom Guy." John had nearly forgotten how much he'd loved the Doom games as a kid. "And before you say it, those games are old, even for me."

"They redid the games in 2016 and 2020. It's relevant again." Oh. And with that Soap was once again being dragged toward some random person in a costume.

Something this guy was getting right was that he wasn't speaking. He'd nod, wave, aim his gun, but he didn't utter a word. Soap couldn't see a thing through the helmet visor. I wonder if he can even see outta that?

The guy caught sight of them, evidently he could see, and tilted his head while looking down at Soap. "That things pure dead brilliant." He found himself marveling at the BFG in the man's armored hands.

It looked like it was actually made of metal. And it actually glowed! How the man had gotten the green lights to work, he was dying to know. Trying to configure it in his head, he nearly missed when the man held it out slightly for him. "Can I?" He asked, just making sure. Oh he'd kill for something like this in the field. Pure devastation. Doom Guy nodded and John took the gun. Holding it, it was a hell of a lot lighter than he'd imagined. The fuck is this thing made of?

Andy popped up beside him. "Can we get a picture with you mate?" To that, Doom Guy nodded. Maybe Soap would tell people he'd been here, he wanted a picture of him holding this gun hung up at his desk.

Andy backed up, people kindly stayed out of the way as the picture was taken. Doom Guy posed, crossing his arms over his massive chest. Soap held the gun as best he could like he would a rifle. Not aimed at anyone, but ready. "We're good." Andy called. Doom Guy  held up his hand to stop him, then stuck out one finger and swirled his hand around. "Huh?" Andy thought for a moment. "Another?" Doom Guy nodded and gave a thumbs up. Really taking his character seriously. Who were they to deny him, this was cool as fuck. Soap readied himself to take the next picture, giving the camera a feral grin, just like the first, when Doom Guy placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned down.

"Enjoying the convention Johnny?" Startled at the use of his name that he knew he hadn't given the man, he whipped around, instinctively pointing the gun in his hands at the chest of the other man.

Then it dawned on him. "Ghost?!" He asked incredulously. There's no fucking way.

The man in question began laughing. He reached up and removed his helmet. Shaking his head, Ghost's messy, dark blonde hair flew in every direction.

Unlike Las Almas, he wasn't drenched in sweat, there was no grease paint, and light brown hair was longer and curled slightly. Shit he had freckles. Shit he was cute. Dangerous thoughts, John.

"I didn't think this was your kinda thing, Johnny." Ghost said with a crooked grin that perfectly framed his crooked teeth.

John was no saint. He'd been flirting with Ghost since they met. Secretly really wanted to have sex with him, but he'd only seen the man's face that one time, and now his mind was going a million kilometers an hour trying to take in every inch on display. Thoughts both pure and impure ran through his head, and the only thing that managed to make its way to his mouth was "Where'd you get this thing?" Normally he was a better flirt, but normally he was flirting with the visage of death. Not a pretty man with freckles. Well he was, but not really.

"I made it." Ghost shrugged, armor clacking as his shoulders rose and fell. "Same as the suit. It's all EVA foam and 3D printing."

"You made this?!"

"Yeah? I made my masks too. What, you think I bought those?" Ghost smirked.

Andy had jogged back over. "I took a video, so we could take screenshots." He handed the phone over to Ghost.

"I'm absolutely keeping this, Johnny." He said as he typed in his number and sent the video to himself. Damn, Andy got Ghost's number before he did.

"Johnny?"

"Shut it, Andy." He warned. "We work together. Never in a million years thought I'd see him out here though."

"I go to any convention I can make. It's fun. I have other suits. Isaac Clark from Deadspace, Master Chief from Halo. I like to wear them and make people smile. I don't get to do that often." He seemed lost in thought for a second, face darkening. Just as quickly as it had happened, the expression was gone. "You go to conventions often?"

"First one. But I could be persuaded to go to more." John smiled his best flirty smile. Andy snickered, and earned himself an elbow to the ribs.

***

Now I desperately wanna see Soap at a con dressed like Isabelle while holding the super shotgun.

#please someone draw this #please please please #im begging #ghostsoap #cod mw2 #call of duty #ghoap #fanfic #soapghost #text post #convention fic

[writerseclipse1]

[four seasons of love] chapter 1: a welcome arrival

a joel miller x reader series by @writerseclipse1

|| next || fsol masterlist ||

warnings: reader is in her 30s, joel in his 50s, abby in her 20s, mentions blood, injury and murder, small description of (canon-typical) physical violence, guns and other weapons, lmk if i missed anyt.

summary: jackson is stunned by an unexpected yet certainly welcome arrival. the plan falls into place a little too perfectly, like two sugars in a plain, black coffee.

word count: 3.8k

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ a/n: first chapter done!! hope u guys like it <3

++++++

March 19, 2037

“I hate it here,” Mike grumbled under his breath, slinging his rifle over his shoulder to adjust the thin material of his shirt. He heaved out a sigh, cheeks tinted a slight pink as a cool wisp of wind—left over from winter—brushed over his face. From his left, he heard a snicker and, turning his head, he saw Eugene stifling his laughter. “What’s so funny?”

“I mean, if you hadn’t fucked up last patrol, you wouldn’t be here,” Mike scoffs at Eugene’s chuckling, the bitter man crossing his arms over his chest as he looks at Eugene with a less-than-pleased look yet this did nothing to ease Eugene’s chipper mood. “Do better at your job and maybe they might let you patrol Jackson next time.” Eugene bursts out in a fit of laughter when he sees the corner of Mike’s mouth curl up into a sneer, his mouth opening to retaliate. The retort dies in his mouth however, when the latter sees a figure from below, back hunched and a trail of blood at its feet, and Mike’s heart leaps out of his chest when it collapses right outside the walls of Jackson.

“What the fuck is that?!”

The gates open and half a dozen men clutch their weapons, laser focused and pointed at their target, ready to shoot on command and at will. Maria clutches a pistol in one hand and a scanner in the other, swiftly attaching it to the neck of the intruder. The apparatus lets out a ‘click’ before the screen turns green. The woman signals the group to advance, their feet trudging along the grass.

They crowd around it, one of them nudging the body with the butt of his rifle but backs away when Maria clicks her tongue and gives a pointed look. “What do we do with it, boss?” The woman pauses, weighing her options before she sighs and shakes her head, surveying the blood absorbed by the soil.

“We take ‘em in.”

++++++

“Whatcha waitin’ here for?” Tommy’s head perked up at the sound of his older brother’s voice. His lips form a half smile, meeting Joel halfway to give him a side hug, wrapping one arm around his older brother’s shoulder.

“Been a week of waitin’ but we got a newcomer comin’ outta the med bay. Found her right outside the walls,” Tommy mused, crossing his arms and leaning on the wall behind him, staring at the curtain that separated him and his brother from the newcomer, the doctor, and Maria, who he speculated was speaking to the newcomer. “If she was out there for ten minutes longer, she woulda been dead before we even got here, well, that’s what Nolan told us.” 

Joel acknowledged this with a huff, nodding as he let himself absorb his brother’s words, but something was out of place. “Hold on, where’s she gonna stay? As far as I know, we haven't built any new houses.” The older man already knew the answer but he still asked, praying that his guess wasn’t the case.

“Yeah well, about that,” Tommy grimaced at Joel’s sharp glare. “Now, come on, give the girl a break! She was just on death’s doorstep, be hospitable for once.” He nudged his brother’s arm but before the latter was about to counter with his inevitable refusal, he interrupted him. “I’m sure you know how it feels to be bleeding and alone. Wouldn’t want our guest to feel that way, do ya?” 

It stopped Joel in his tracks, looking at his brother with an unreadable expression, the gears turning in his head as his decision was swayed by practicality versus sympathy. In the end, the soft sigh that Joel lets slip out of his mouth was the source of Tommy’s satisfaction. The younger man patted his brother’s shoulder with a grin, nodding his head. “Thanks, Joel. And who knows? You might like the girl more than you think.”

Joel didn’t get to retaliate before the curtain was pulled back, revealing Nolan Matthews—head doctor of the infirmary—with a mask that certainly did nothing to cover his evident smile, the corner of his eyes wrinkling as he neared the two. “Good news, she’s alive and well, and definitely expecting a full recovery from all the injuries she sustained. It’s insane how she got here with all of it, though,” he turned to Joel. “Best keep an eye on her for a couple of days until she’s completely back on her feet. Just give me five minutes and then you’ll be allowed into the room.” Once again, the doctor gave Joel no chance to respond before he disappeared behind the curtain.

Tommy ignored Joel’s pointed gaze, a victorious smirk gracing the younger man’s face while his brother greeted him with a scowl. “So now we’re tellin’ the whole town that a girl’s gonna stay in my place forever?”

“Not forever, unless you want her to.” The groan that escaped Joel’s mouth did nothing to ease the smile from his brother’s lips. In fact, Joel swore Tommy’s grin just got bigger. “Come on, you have an extra room! It’s just until we get a couple more materials to make one for her, that’s all.” If Joel looked closer, he would have seen the way Tommy’s hand moved behind his back, his fingers crossing as he licked his lips. No way in hell would Tommy make a new house for just one person when someone else had a functioning extra bed. Plus, he thought he was helping his brother out. It’s been a while since Joel had mingled, maybe he just needed a bit of a nudge.

“You two done? She’s ready to meet you.” Maria’s voice cuts them from their internal squabbling, the two nodding their heads as they push themselves off the wall. ““Couple more materials” my ass,” Joel muttered to himself as he moved the curtain out of his way and entered the room.

Joel was the first one among the two that you laid your eyes on, your gaze staying on him longer than it should have before your eyes flittered to his brother. Maria cleared her throat, tearing your attention from the two imposing men. She introduced the pair to you, her lips spreading out into a warm and welcoming smile. “This is Tommy, my husband,” she held his hand, squeezing it in her grasp and you gave him a meek smile as he tipped his head in your direction. “And this is his brother, Joel.”

Joel’s gaze had been pinned to the floor the entire time but when he felt Maria’s hand on his shoulder, he looked up. He looked much younger than you knew him to be but the greying hairs on the skin of his jaw and the ones on the side of his head told you otherwise. A swift glance gave you the chance to peek through the hazel glaze of his eyes, telling you of the murders he’d committed, the hardships he’d gone through, and the love that had slipped from his hands. Like his brother, he nodded his head in your direction, eyes still piercing into yours. “Welcome to Jackson.”

The corners of your lips turned upward, your own name slipping through your lips as you looked between the three, your eyes eventually focusing on Maria as she started to speak. “Thing is, we don’t have your house ready yet, but Joel offered his spare bedroom for you to stay in until we finish. Is that okay with you?” If you paid closer attention, you would have seen Joel glare at his brother and the smug smile on Tommy’s lips but you only nodded, slightly surprised that you were still welcome in a settlement with about 300 people.

“Yes, of course. I’m just grateful you still have room for one more person,” your voice came out small, looking up at them with gratitude. Before you could react, Maria had engulfed you in a hug, her accepting gesture making you relax even the slightest, almost making you forget what you had come here for in the first place.

Almost.

“You’re always welcome here and there will always be room,” she smiled, helping you stand on your shaky legs. “Now come on, we’ll show you around.”

++++++

“Take your shoes off and put ‘em in the rack before you come in,” Joel’s gruff voice cut through the air as you followed him up the steps to the porch which was painted a light shade of brown. Heeding his request, you untied your boots and let the laces hang down the sides of the shoes and without another word, followed him into the house.

After you had finished your tour around town, Maria had insisted that Joel lead you to your “temporary” place of residence and show you your room. The sun hadn’t even set, its rays still shining down on Jackson without abandon but you felt the exhaustion of the week spent in the infirmary slowly come down on you like feathers dropping onto your shoulders.

The exterior matched the interior, with minimal furniture and a layout that was certainly easy to memorize. The kitchen and the dining area on your left and the living room to your right. Other than looking over his shoulder to see if you listened to his earlier request, Joel paid you no mind, letting you explore the house as you wish. Hanging your jacket on the coat stand and placing your boots in the rack, you headed to the living room first. You sighed softly at the warmth of the fireplace as your fingers ghosted over the brown, worn out leather of the couch and a part of you wondered just how many times he had accidentally fallen asleep on it rather than his bed.

A sudden ‘thump’ from your left drew your curiosity to the corner of the room. You took a second to appreciate the small library Joel had set up on a wide, wooden bookshelf and to also admire his slightly obvious affinity for reading. He didn’t seem like the bookworm type, especially if you took him at face value. A book laid on the ground and as soon as you picked it up, you wiped the dust off the cover with your sleeve. “An Idiot’s Guide to Space.” It made your eyebrows raise in curiosity, the pad of your thumb brushing over the somehow sleek cover of the book.

“Didn’t peg you as a space nerd,” his head tilted in the direction of your voice, eyes focusing on you as you kept your back to him. Smoke rose from the surface of his coffee, watching it disappear as he let the comment hang in the air for a while but you didn’t mind, not expecting a reply from him in the first place.

“‘M not. I’m into woodworkin’ and a lil’ bit of history but none of that—” he brushes it off with a wave of his hand in the air. “—whatever. But, uh, Ellie, she likes space so I’m tryna figure out half the things she says.”

“You have a daughter?” You would be lying if you said you were surprised.

“No, no.” Shaking his head, he wiped his hands on the towel that hung from the oven, idly walking toward you. “She’s a kid I came here with, saved her from getting eaten alive out there.” His footsteps got nearer and nearer and you felt your words die in the back of your throat when you felt his presence behind you, the scent of coffee and his natural aroma invading your senses. You made no move to turn, your eyes scanning the title of the book over and over until it was ingrained in your mind.

You snapped out of your daze when he cleared his throat and you looked over your shoulder, seeing a cup of coffee in each of his hands and you hurriedly returned the book to the shelf. Turning around, you carefully took the mug from his left hand, blowing gently before taking a sip. You peered at him from over the rim as you muttered a soft ‘thank you’, not noticing how he hid his face by sipping his own coffee.

Not long after, you found yourselves on the couch, a noticeable space in between you and him. Joel was never one for small talk but he gave himself the chance to indulge in it, just this once maybe. He found it comforting, talking to someone with no apparent knowledge of him and his actions prior to his new life in town.

“Five years huh?”

“Yep.” Joel would consider himself a quiet person so it was a surprise when all the questions you asked didn’t go unanswered. Some were short and brisk but you seemed to understand him, not pressing on the subject unless he elaborated further. “Time’s fast though, it’s the reason my back always hurts like a bitch.”

Your chuckle echoed through the otherwise empty house as you leaned over to put your now-empty mug on the coffee table, right beside where Joel put his. The embers in the fireplace crackled, the fire fizzing as it slowly died. A sigh escaped your lips, making Joel’s head turn and watch as you rolled your shoulders. “I guess that’s my cue to go to bed.”

“Alright then,” he stood after you, his palms pushing him up and he tipped his head toward the stairs. “Lemme show you your room.”

It wasn’t anything startling, a simple bed next to the window on the left and a small dresser on the right. You were just grateful for the clean sheets and the assurance of the locks on the front and back door. Pulling the handles, the dresser revealed a small pile of clean clothes that smelled like they were fresh out of the laundry.

“I traded a few things in for ‘em, don’t mention it.” He said, seeing your mouth opening and about to release a cluster of words of gratitude and ‘you didn’t have to’s. “‘Just wanted my first guest to be comfortable.”

“Well, I’ll rate you five stars on Airbnb,” you teased, biting your lip to suppress a smirk when he let out a hearty laugh, one you heard from Maria to be a “rare find these days” yet you find yourself chuckling along with him.

“Wait, you know what that is?” An excited expression graced his face, the corners of his eyes wrinkling and his teeth showing as his lips pulled up into a grin. His arm went up to rest his weight on the door, his free hand resting on his waist.

“I’m not as young as you think, Mr. Miller.” He extended a hand toward you and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, his laugh turned into a ghost of a smile on his face.

“Call me Joel.” The edges of your lips quirked up as you took his calloused hand into your smooth one.

“Nice to finally meet you, Joel.”

You learned two things that night: Joel was in his 30s when the outbreak began and he gets talky when he gets his coffee.

++++++

“Took you long enough,” the blonde's familiar voice echoed from behind you and you bit back a groan.

Sometime after the moon was high into the sky and you were sure that Joel had locked his door, you quietly slid out of bed and down the stairs, relief flooding you for the absence of a creaky staircase. Slipping your coat back on, you grimaced at the thought of soiling Joel’s living room before you ultimately decided to grab your boots and put them on once you got out the back door.

Sneaking out—of the house and of Jackson—was easy enough but navigating through the night without a flashlight made the hairs on your neck stand with every soft whisper of the wind. You remained on high alert, hands grasping your gun tight but you felt the tension in your shoulders relax when you saw the familiar shack, a dim glow lighting up the inside.

“Give me a break, he was a bit chattier than what you told me,” you muttered, slumping onto the couch beside Manny and Owen, giving both men a fist bump. Leaning back onto the backrest, you slung your ankle over your other knee and crossed your arms over your chest as Abby stayed standing, watching the small fire flicker inside the lamp. “What now, boss? Do I bring out the good ol’ golf club and finish the job?”

“Are you ridiculous?” Came her retort and you bit back a laugh at her annoyed expression. “If that was our plan, his brother might come after me and we’d all be dead. If you wanted me to get killed that easily, you could’ve said so.” Her braid swung over her shoulder as she stretched her neck.

“That was a joke, Abigail, if you couldn’t tell,” you could see her jaw tighten, as if she was stopping herself from bashing your head with a golf club. Her distaste for you was loud and clear and it was evident the feeling was reciprocated.

The plan was simple: infiltrate Jackson, get Joel to fall in love with you, lure him out of Jackson by pretending you got kidnapped, then Abby finishes the job in a ratty, old cabin without any witnesses, the same one you were in right now.

“And why me? She could do it herself if she really wanted him killed,” you mused as you glanced at Abby, crossing your arms as Isaac tries but fails to stifle a chuckle.

“No way in hell,” she snarled, her hands balling into fists from the top of the table. “Am I gonna get all lovey-dovey on the man who killed my father. If anything, the only time I’m gonna be laying my hands on him is when I finally get to murder that son of a bitch.”

“You’re also closer to his age than Abby.” Owen piped up, pushing himself off the wall he leaned on. You tried not to roll your eyes but it was difficult when he was being such a fucking tryhard.

“More important than that,” Isaac sent the two a pointed look, putting his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. “You’re my most valuable soldier, my right hand, if I may. If there’s anyone this self-proclaimed mission needs, it’s you.” Pride swelled deep in your heart and the daggers Abby stared into your skull didn’t go unnoticed, but it went without a response. 

“Alright, alright, let’s get things done,” Manny started, clearing his throat as he put his weight forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as the attention completely turned to you. “What happened today?”

Clearing your throat, your mind raked through the events of today as your teeth dragged over your teeth. “For one, it’s a miracle I got there in the first place,” your hand smoothed over the back of your neck, wincing when you felt a sting travel from your nape. “You did a number on me, Anderson, felt like I was on the brink of death when I got there.” Abby felt more than smug at your admission because making your life hell is her mission in progress, the side quest of her main task: getting revenge on Joel Miller. 

Before you started to traverse through the remote area the town was situated in, Abby insisted on getting you roughed up. Just a little to invoke sympathy in the people, but she beat the shit out of you so hard you even felt bad for yourself. 

“Just get on with it,” she said, a barely-there, shit-eating grin on her face but you only dug your nails into your palms, not having the energy to contest. “What about Joel?”

“Met him almost instantly, right after they let me out of my hospital bed,” you picked on the hidden bandages that were wrapped around your torso as your body started to throb from the pain you’ve been trying to conceal since you stepped foot in the town. “Then they told me I’ll be staying in his house until they get my house fixed up.”

Abby’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. She wasn’t, by all means, religious but she was taken aback at how Joel was being served to her on a silver platter, like someone out there wanted her to take what she’s been longing for. Not to kill Joel, but to avenge her father in the same way he was taken from her.

“One thing I noticed though,” your voice broke her out of her revenge-filled reverie, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “Was that it’ll take a while for him to fall in love with me, not that I’m basing it off on assumptions but he’s a quiet person in general.” “How long is “a while”?” Mel asked, coming out from one of the bedrooms with her hands on her hips, looking at you expectantly.

“Maybe a year if I’m right.”

“A year? We can’t wait around here for that long,” grumbled Abby, who was greeted with a groan from you. Massaging your temples with your thumb and middle finger and trying to prolong the coming of your inevitable headache, you offered an idea.

“Radio. You got one back at base and I’m sure they have one I can borrow,” you raised your eyebrows, expecting an answer from the blonde. “How’s that?” Her arms crossed over her chest and her knee bounced, a habit she had when she was lost in thought. Eventually, she spoke again yet her words were dripping with skepticism.

“Every Saturday at this time, you give us a weekly report with all the necessary details and, if you can, add in your ETC so we know when to strike. If everything is ready to go, the code word is “do not disturb.” Wrote all that down?”

“Ma’am, yes, ma’am,” you joked, mock saluting her as you stood, only rolling her eyes at you as you shrugged your coat back on and headed out, but not before bidding them a good night and wishing them a safe trip back to Seattle in the morning. They all watched as you weaved through the thick trees scattered in the forest, their attention never wavering, not until you disappeared in the darkness of the night.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for Abby to be losing sleep over this. It was something her brain did often, questioning her own methods and skills. This time, it settled on the fact that this mission would take a year to complete, more or less. Was it really worth the time?

Then again, she waited five years to kill him. Another year wouldn’t hurt, right?

++++++

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #abby anderson #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #tlou hbo #tlou 2 #tlou x reader #ellie williams #tlou joel #joel the last of us #joel x reader #maria miller #tommy miller #four seasons of love [joel m] #fsol #the tipsy bison

[anari3l]

A Shirt

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader // Words: 538 // Summary: The girls trick Reader into wearing one of Arthur's shirts // Humors of Whiskey Masterlist // Note: Yeah, I know this trope may be over done, but seriously, you should steal all of his shirts.

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

"God damn it, Arthur!" 

You yelled as you threw yourself behind a half-submerged log, covering your bare body with what was once a newly laundered shirt as shots rang overhead. Mary-Beth and Karen ducked behind a tree, half-dressed, scrambling for cover and the pistol laying on top of a pile of laundry. 

What had started as a calm swim while working on laundry, a few miles down the coast of Flat Iron Lake from Clemens Point, had turned into a stand-off between a group of Lemoyne Raiders and Arthur. 

"Get outta the damn water!" Arthur hollered as he rounded a tree, ducking as a bullet blew off a chunk of the trunk's wood beside his head. 

Cursing under your breath, you pulled the shirt onto your shoulders, glad it covered you enough to crawl up the bank to your own rifle. Laying in the tall grass, you fired down at one of the Raiders, too drunk to find cover behind a tree.

"This our land, ya hear!" 

"You can't take us!"

You had to give it to them, those Lemoyne Raiders were persistent. 

Karen's scoff was loud enough for all of you to hear over the gunfire, followed by a laugh as she hit her own target square in the chest. 

Finally, the only sound in the air was Karen and Mary-Beth's whooping laughter as they danced out from their cover. You laughed as you pushed to your knees, looking down to the now dirty shirt you had thrown on. "Hey, pass me a shirt or somethin'," you said, motioning to the basket Karen was picking up from the water's edge. 

She tossed you a shirt as Arthur whistled, turning to the horses as the three of you continued to make yourselves decent. Finally, after finding a skirt and your boots, you tucked the oversized shirt in and grabbed your rifle. 

"Those raiders are relentless," you sighed, setting the rifle in the back of the wagon.

Arthur nodded, glancing up at you for a moment with a cigarette between his lips. "Yeah," he started, cutting himself off as he looked back to you. "That's my shirt."

You stopped, looking down at yourself. The shirt Karen had tossed your way was the worn-out blue shirt of Arthur's. You chuckled, placing your hands on your hips. "I think it fits me."

He shrugged, ducking his head slightly as he took the basket Mary-Beth held out to him. "I'll want it back."

You smirked, hitching up your skirt to climb onto the wagon. "I'll think about it."

*********

"You threw me that shirt on purpose," you accused Karen as you nudged up to her in the supper line later that evening. 

"No, I swear!" she laughed, spooning a portion of Pearson's stew. 

"Happy accident," Mery-Beth piped up from behind you. 

Karen snickered, leading your small group away from the cookfire. "But did you see his face when he saw you in it?"

"And a blush!"

You rolled your eyes, glancing over your shoulder to the campfire where Arthur sat hunched over his own plate of food beside Javier and John. "Y'all are crazy. How many times do I have to say there's nothin' between us!"

They just smirked. "Keep tellin' yourself that." 

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic

[rfsak2]

Spitfire, Pt. 7

This chapter was difficult to write, but I already have parts of the next chapter written so I’m excited. I’m also planning to post a little sneak peak of the next chapter. 

Drop me a line and like if you’re interested!

Spitfire, Pt. 7

Everyone always thought Daryl was the rough one. DarylxOC

Warnings: violence, emotions, injuries, smut under the cut, lots of bad language words, Negan

Part 6

“What do you think, Mitz?”

“Nothin’ good.” She held her rifle scope up to her eye and sighed. “Gotta be 300-plus.”

Rick nodded. “At least.”

She examined the east-bound exit of the quarry through her scope. “That isn’t gonna last much longer.” She passed over the scope to Rick, who in turn passed it to Daryl. 

Glenn sighed, squatting next to her. “I found the plans in the office. It’s a limestone quarry.”

“Limestone?”

“So it’s washin’ away more n’more with every storm.” Daryl passed the scope back to Mitzi.

“Jesus Christ.” Mitzi glanced up at Daryl. “Y’think we can get closer? Just to check.”

Daryl nodded. “If we’re quiet.” 

They walked through the woods bordering the quarry and worked quietly, slowly through the maze of cars left by quarry workers before the Turn.

Mitzi walked around the improvised semi-truck barricade. Daryl stepped up onto the cab to look through the window. “No keys.”

Mitzi picked something up from a tire and jingled it in his direction. “They’re here.” She set them back down. “Musta done this early on.”

Rick squatted to look under the truck. “Yeah. I don’t think it was the quarry workers either. They would’ve chosen a more stable area.”

A walker slipped around the side of one of the rigs and Daryl stuck his knife in its temple.

She stood on the edge of the bluff and looked down at the barricade in the bottom of the quarry. She squatted, holding her scope up. “The barricade down there is more stable, looks like. We’ll have to get closer to check. But I can see a couple sizable gaps. I’ll bet it’s leaking walkers like a mother fucker.”

Rick nodded, arms crossed over his chest. “So walkers are slipping out at that exit and the other exit is going to slip off the rapidly eroding cliff face.” He wiped his hand over his face and hissed when he accidentally tugged at one of his Steri-strips.

Mitzi chuckled. “You good, boss?”

“I forgot I had them.”

She stood and backed up from the edge. “Don’t know how. You’re more bandage than face right now.”

Glenn snickered. “What’s worse is that he was a doctor. Not exactly a prize fighter.” 

“That’s true.” Daryl bit his lip. “Ain’t no reason to be that beat up.”

“Don’t do that…” Rick frowned. “He was a big guy.”

“Ooh…” Mitzi wiggled her fingers. “A big doctor.”

Daryl shrugged. “He was big but he was soft. Coulda taken him.”

Glenn nodded. “Oh, easily.”

“Wouldn’t even take me that long.” Mitzi grinned. 

“Screw all three of y’all.” Rick pointed at the quarry and scoffed. “Why don’t you figure this shit out instead of takin’ the piss outta me?”

“Yes, sir!” She saluted. “Glenn, can you pass me those plans?”

Glenn spread the rolled stack of papers out on the ground and put a rock in the corners to secure them. Mitzi pulled out a folded up map of the area and spread it out above, securing it the same way.

“So this exit,” Glenn pointed out east then back at the map. “This exit goes east on Redding to Alexandria. This south exit would be safer. We wouldn't have to redirect them. Just march ‘em down Marshall Road.”

“Until we start rilin’ them up.” Daryl squatted next to her. “Then they just start pushin’ against the trucks, push ‘em outta the way.”

Rick nodded. “We want a trickle, not a flood.”

Mitzi examined the bottom exit through her scope and sighed. “I doubt there's a way to move those trucks quietly.”

Glenn nodded. “How do we redirect them safely, though? Keep them from marching right down to Alexandria?”

Rick frowned. “Do you think that we can just lead them?”

“Lead them how?” Glenn glanced up at Rick.

“With sound, maybe?”

Mitzi shook her head. “I was hoping for that but honestly, there’s too many of them and the sound wouldn’t be concentrated enough.”

Daryl nodded. “We wouldn’t be able t’just set speakers up n’run. We’d have to stay ahead of them and still risk the ones in the back gettin’ distracted and wanderin’ off.”

“Let’s just do that then?” Glenn pointed at the map. “Let’s just get people to lead them. Drive a car ahead of them.”

Mitzi shook her head. “It’s the same problem though. The one’s in the back will wander off.”

Rick nodded. “We can keep ‘em in line using sound. Any of them start wandering, we fire a shot or two, pull ‘em back.”

Daryl squinted at the map. “I can use the bike, it’s louder.”

Rick started nodding even as she was getting ready to protest. “That’s a good-”

“No, it isn’t.” Mitzi stared at Rick as if he had two heads. “If somethin’ happens, there’s nothin’ to protect you, baby. At least with a car, we can close the doors if somethin’ happens and we get surrounded.”

“Can’t surround me if they can’t catch me.” Daryl looked offended at the very suggestion. 

“Oh, so we just plan for the scenario we want now? No contingency-”

“This is something y’all can discuss at home, not here with over 300 of your nearest and deadest.” Glenn whisper-shouted. “Focus, please.”

Mitzi frowned. “Don’t know when you got so fuckin’ bossy, little brother.”

“Mildred Elizabeth.” 

“Fuckin’ fine.” She huffed and Daryl reached over to squeeze her shoulder. 

“It’ll be alright, Spitfire.”

“Y’better fuckin’ hope so. I won’t forgive you if you die. Dickhead.”

He chuckled and pressed a kiss to the side of her head.

**

“Now what I’m proposing, I know it sounds risky, but walkers are already slipping through the exits. One of the trucks keeping walkers in could go off the edge any day now. Maybe after one more hard rain.” Rick paused. “That exit sends them east. All of them. Right at us. This isn’t about if it gives, it’s when. It’s gonna happen. That’s why we have t’do it soon.”

One of the Alexandrians shifted nervously. “Isn’t that why we have walls? Can’t we just wait it out?”

“A herd like that will flatten those walls.” Mitzi spoke up, sitting in the windowsill by Daryl. “Walkers don’t feel pain. They will just push up against the walls until their combined weight pushes the wall over. Regardless, we will need to be out there redirectin’ them with sound. It’s best t’do as far out as we can so they don’t get anywhere near us.”

Carol nodded, still play-acting, eyes big and vulnerable. “This is- I don’t even have another word for it. This is terrifying. All of it. But it doesn’t sound like there’s any other way.”

Carter frowned. “Maybe there is. I mean couldn’t we just build up the weak spots? I could draw up plans. I worked on the wall with Reg.” He cast an anxious look around. “Construction crew, we can try to make it safe.”

“There are no strong spots.” Mitzi sucked on her tongue. “The exits were not strategically placed to begin with. The limestone was bound to wash away at some point and that point is now. One of those rigs is maybe half a foot from going over. Buildin’ it up might make it stable for a bit but it’s bound to fail at some point.”

“But if it buys us more time?”

“More time to do what? Sit around with our thumbs up our asses, hopin’ and prayin’ that the truck is still up and there aren’t 300 rottin’, walkin’ corpses headin’ our way?” Mitzi chuckled. “This world is not a wait n’see kinda world anymore. It’s move n’decide. We can’t leave this to be future-us’ problem.”

Rick nodded. “Even if it worked, the sound of those walkers is drawing more and more everyday. Building up the exits won’t change that.”

“Make it worse in the long run.”

“We’re gonna do what Rick and Mitzi say.” Everyone turned to where Deanna was looking out the window. “The plan they’ve laid out.”

Rick nodded. “I told you all, we’re gonna have Daryl leading them away.”

Sasha nodded and caught her eye, then nodded at Daryl. “Me too. I’ll take a car ride next to him. Can’t just be him. I’ll keep ‘em coming, Daryl keeps ‘em from getting sloppy.”

Mitzi smiled at Sasha. “Thanks, Sash.”

Abraham nodded in front of her. “I’ll go with her. That’s a long way to white-knuckle it solo.”

“We’ll have two teams. One on each side of the forest, helping to manage this thing. We’re gonna find a way to get Mitzi up above the treeline, so she can catch any walkers that get too far outta line. She’ll also man the radio keeping everyone on the same page.”

Tobin nodded. “There’s an old 50-foot bucket truck we can use. I think it’s still at the construction site.”

Carter frowned. “Why does she get to be up there?’

Mitzi snorted. “Get? Ima ‘bouta be 50 feet in the air in a bucket. One that likely makes a shit-ton of noise on the way up and down. You’re welcome to it if y’got the stones.”

Carter clenched his jaw and dismissed her with a flippant hand gesture.

Daryl sucked on his tongue loudly. “She’s made killshots at 3400 yards. Y’ever do that?” Carter colored and Daryl made a face, one hand landing on her thigh. “There y’go.”

“Daryl’s right.” Rick shot them a look. “Mitzi is a sniper. She’s the only one I’d trust to not accidentally hit one of us by accident.”

She grinned at Daryl and mouthed, ‘down boy.’ He rolled his eyes and squeezed her thigh.

“We’re gonna have a few people on watch from now on. Rosita, Spencer and Holly. So they’re out.” He paused. “So who’s in?”

They were a handful of hesitant affirmative replies, Michonne, Glenn, even Gabriel attempted to volunteer only to be shot down by Rick.

“No. Who else? We need more.”

“There’s gotta be another play.” Carter stuttered out. “We can’t just control that many.”

Rick sighed. “I said it before, walkers herd up. They’ll follow a path if something’s drawing them. That’s how we can get ‘em all at once.”

“So what? We’re just supposed to take your word for it? We’re all supposed to just fall in line behind you after-”

There was a lengthy pause and Rick stepped forward. “After what?”

Carter swallowed. “After you wave a gun around, screaming, pointing it at people. After you shoot a man in the face. After you-”

Deanna whirled around. “Enough!”

**

“Mitzi! What’s happening?”

“Dunno.” She turned and looked and set her rifle on the railing of the bucket. Looking through her scope, she lifted the radio and cussed vilely. “Alexandria’s under attack.”

“By who?”

“How the fuck should I know? I’m in a bucket 50 feet off the ground, two miles away.” She looked over the railing at the ground. “And I can’t get down.” 

“Why? Are ya pinned down?” Daryl sounded anxious.

“I’m not exactly pinned down but if I start the lift, there’s a good chance it draws anyone undead in my immediate vicinity. It’s a loud sumabitch. Fuckin’ goddamn it! We shoulda built a blind instead.”

“It’s okay.” Rick’s voice soothed over the radio. “You were right that it probably wasn’t going to be tall enough. You do what you can.”

“Like fuckin’ watch? ‘Cause that’s all I can do right now.”

“You are Captain Mildred E. Dixon.” Abraham’s voice crackled over the radio. “You can do a damn sight more up there than most people can do on their own two feet. Light ‘em up!”

“I agree.” Rick sounded more amused than he had a right to. “Assist how you can and get down when you can.”

She breathed deep. “Right. Guess I’m breaking that record after all.”

“I can turn around? If ya need help down.”

She smiled despite herself. “Nah, I’m good, baby. Y'all come back and get me when you’re done.”

“Y’sure?”

“Daryl, stay focused.”

“I’m fine, D. Promise. Upside, nothin’ can get me up here.” She chuckled. “Y’all just don’t forget me. We didn’t have time to set a car out here for me. If things get dicier, I’m hoofin’ it back”

“I don’t like this, Spitfire.”

“It’ll be okay. Love ya.” 

“You too. Stay safe, baby.”

She adjusted in the bin, putting her back against one side of the bucket and leveling her rifle with the other. “I’m gonna go quiet for a bit, y’all. Don’t be surprised if ya don’t hear from me.”

She set the radio down and braced her rifle against her shoulder. She looked through her scope and focused on the main gate. It was open which meant that she had more of a line of sight than she had honestly been expecting. 

She breathed deep, aimed at the forehead of someone she did not know. She paused, seeing the W carved there and cursed. She grabbed her radio.

“It’s those assholes with the W’s!” She threw the walkie back down, ignoring the responses.

She breathed deep, focusing on the W. She fired. The man crumbled to the pavement. 

She breathed out and ejected the shell, slid the bolt home. 

Breathe in.

A walker this time. 

Breathe out.

Fire.

Bolt.

She continued in that pattern for longer than she could keep track of. Someone turned, she saw the W. 

Breathe in. 

Aim. 

Breathe out. 

Fire.

Bolt.

**

She saw a fuel tanker come barrelling down the road and cursed. Her body felt heavy and hot but she dragged her rifle back up and aimed at the driver’s side of the windshield. 

She sighed and reached for her radio.

“Hey, baby.” She chuckled as Daryl slammed on the brakes.

“Spitfire?”

“Can ya get me down?” She looked down at the area around the truck. “I keep easin’ down, but every time I run it for longer than five minutes my friends come back. Ain’t gonna lie, feel a bit like a rockstar up here. I got groupies for days.”

“How many groupies do you have?” Abraham drawled.

“‘Bout twenty-thirty?”

“Not much of a fan club.” 

“Fuck you, Abraham Ford.” She chuckled. “They wander off and then come back, sometimes with more. It’s hard to track.”

“A’ight.” Through her scope she saw Daryl toss the radio over to Sasha and throw the truck in reverse. “Start the lift again. We’ll be there in a couple minutes.”

“Will do.” She breathed deep and reached for the control panel. Hoisting herself up, she started up the back-up power and started the lift. She counted the walkers as they meandered over to the truck. “Heads up, my fan club is in session and currently numbers around twenty-five-ish.”

Sasha’s voice came over the radio next, the tanker turning down the gravel road Mitzi was suspended over.. “You been up there this whole time?”

She laughed, her voice hoarse. “Yeah.”

“Jesus Christ. Mitz, you shoulda tried to get down earlier.”

“Have been tryin’.” She paused, briefly nauseous, her head spinning. “That’s the other thing, though. I managed to ration my water ‘til ‘bout four-five hours ago but I’m fuckin’ starvin’, still probably dehydrated, and I’m pretty sure I have sun poisoning or whatever. Wasn’t too keen on gettin’ down when I hadn’t quite figured out how I was gonna get home.”

“How about the truck you’re in?” Daryl suggested. “What kinda shape is it in?”

“I’ve been drainin’ the battery for sure, so that’s a problem, but not the only problem. The walkers crowd on all sides so I can’t clear it fast enough to jump down and get in the truck. Not as sluggish as I feel.”

There was some rustling over the radio and Sasha came back on the radio. “What about Rick?”

“Oh, that plan got fucked to hell. He, somehow, I dunno, was walking ahead of a couple hundred walkers. I imagine he had a similar kinda day to me. He’s checked in with me since getting home, but they’re pinned down. Can’t get out to come get me.” She waved weakly at them when they stepped out of their truck. “Hey, guys.”

They held the walkers at bay as she lowered the bucket down all the way. When it was flush to the truck, Daryl helped her climb out, steadying her as her knees wobbled under her.

He clenched his jaw and handed her down to Abraham as Sasha kept their way back to the truck clear.

Settled, rather tightly between Sasha and Daryl, Mitzi leaned over and jacked up the AC, accepting the bottle of water Abraham passed her.

“You have the worst sunburn I’ve ever seen.” Sasha pressed gently at Mitzi’s forehead. “You’re definitely dehydrated. I think I have an old candy bar or something.” She rifled through her pack, passing her an old snickers bar. “You’re gonna freckle like a bitch.”

Mitzi chuckled, her voice still raspy despite the water she had drank. She leaned heavily on Daryl, who was struggling to split his attention between driving and tsking at her as he anxiously assessed her condition, and opened her snickers.

Abraham, hilariously shoved up against the passenger window, hummed. “Why didn’t you shoot your way out?”

Mitzi reached down and opened her pack, tossing him three empty magazines. “We’re lucky the soldier in me thought to grab those. I was only bringing my rifle to line the bucket up correctly with the parade route. Wasn’t expecting to stay up there.”

Abraham glanced back at her. “You used all of these on the pricks that attacked home?”

She shook her head. “There weren’t quite that many of them. I took down maybe ten?” She shrugged. “I used the rest to take down the walkers that followed Rick home. They gotta be stacked ten deep around the walls by now.”

Daryl huffed. “Fuck.”

“Yep.” She looked over at Abraham. “Where the fuck did you find dress blues that fit your brick shit house ass? And why are you wearing them?”

**

“I want to be in here with him.”

Daryl started shaking his head before Denise could speak. “Spitfire, you need to lay down. There’s not another bed in here.”

Mitzi frowned. “Don’t wanna lay down. I’ll sit down, but I wanna be in here with Carl.”

Denise nodded. “I have an armchair that should be low enough to keep fluids flowing.” She glanced at Daryl. “Will that be okay?”

Daryl sighed. “Will it work just as good as if she was lying down?”

“Laying down would be better, for sure,” She paused and glanced down at Mitzi, a little pointed. “But I’d rather have her sitting and resting than having to force her to stay in bed.”

Mitzi looked up at Daryl. 

Daryl nodded. “A’ight. Where’s the chair?”

He brought the chair in and set his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her down. “You ain’t gonna leave this chair, Mitz, y’hear?” 

“I won’t, promise.” 

He pressed a kiss to her head, trying to avoid her sunburns. “Rosita’s gonna stitch me up, I’ll be back.” “Okay, baby.” She turned to watch him leave, chuckling when she realized he had set the chair at an angle that he could watch her as Rosita worked on him. Catching his eyes, she smiled and felt her body melt into the chair.

Denise buzzed around her, bringing over a broom turned into a makeshift IV pole and an IV bag of saline. Wrapping a tourniquet around her bicep, Denise started to palpitate at Mitzi’s elbow. 

She tsked, tapping at a vein. 

Mitzi looked down at her. “What?”

“I don’t know if it’s the dehydration or the tattoos, probably both, but your veins are impossible.” She released the tourniquet and moved to tie it around Mitzi’s wrist. She tapped at the prominent vein at the back of Mitzi’s hand and nodded, rubbing an alcohol wipe over the area quickly. “Quick pinch.”

Mitzi didn’t react, eyes on Carl. “Is he gonna be okay?”

Denise smiled and hooked up the IV. “I think so. His vital signs are more stable.”

Mitzi breathed deep and smiled up at her. “Thank you.”

Denise nodded. “Let’s look at your face.”

A few minutes later, creams applied and stitches tied, Daryl came and sat on the floor next to her. “He’ll be alright.”

She nodded and scratched over his scalp with her free hand.

Daryl looked back at her. “He’s tough.”

She smiled. “He is. Just like his daddy.”

Rick breathed heavily, looking up at them for the first time. “I think he’s tough like his auntie. You taught him most everything he knows on that front.” He smiled, exhausted and drawn. 

“I did, didn’t I?” She chuckled before shrugging. “I mean… I taught him a lot but not nearly everything.”

“You did.” He sighed. “Thanks for that, by the way. For treating him like your own blood. Helping me help him make it. Giving him a chance to grow up.”

She waved him off. “We ain’t gonna talk like that today, Richard. Carl is gonna live and keep growing up. No more morose shit.”

He smiled and nodded. “Sorry for leavin’ ya up there, Mitz.”

She shrugged. “Honestly, better than the alternative.”

Leaning over, she reached for Carl’s hand and squeezed it gently. 

**

“Mitz!”

“In here, babe.”

Daryl leaned against the doorsill. “Almost done?”

Mitzi smiled and batted her eyes at him. “Why? You walkin’ me home, stud?”

He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. “No. Gonna walk y’somewhere else.”

She arched an eyebrow and looked down at the pistol she was reassembling. “Ooh… color me intrigued. Where are we going?”

He shrugged. “Guess you’ll hafta finish up to find out.”

She shot him a comically suspicious look and set to cleaning up her work space, putting tools, solvents and now-clean rifles and pistols away. Wiping her hands on a clean rag, she moved to lean up against him and pressed a chaste kiss to his mouth.

“That all y’got?”

She smiled. “Olivia’s somewhere ‘round here. I already make her anxious, don’t need to add to it.”

“She likes ya better than ya think.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “Two of ya are just different. I don’t think she knows what t’say to ya.”

She shrugged. “Regardless, I don’t try to stress her out. Let her have her peace. She’s a nice woman.” She motioned to the door and turned to lock the armory behind her. “Lead on, Dixon.”

“A’ight.” He held the door for her and smiled softly down at her. “Missus.”

She smiled up at him and nodded at Jeannie, an Alexandrian she had recently been training on the rifle.

The woman smiled brightly at Mitzi and nodded back. “Hot date?”

Mitzi chuckled and looked up at Daryl. “Always.”

Daryl grumbled under his breath and made for the main gate. “C’mon.”

She chuckled and lengthened her stride to make up the distance between them. She hooked her hand in his elbow and stretched up to land a kiss to his cheek. “Love you.”

He hummed and smirked when, affronted, she pinched his side. He let them out of the main gate and into the forest. They walked in relative silence for ten minutes, Daryl picking his way through the tangled underbrush as Mitzi followed behind. 

He slowed their pace as they entered a small clearing, full of wildflowers. She smiled and looked up at him. “This really is a hot date, huh?” 

Daryl blushed and grabbed her hand, leading her further into the clearing. After making sure the area was clear, Daryl spread out a blanket he had stashed out here and they settled back against a fallen log.

She leaned against his shoulder and soaked up the peace and quiet.

After a while, Daryl dug something out of his pocket and passed it to her. She straightened and smiled. Pinched between his fingers was a wedding band set, a silver ring with a diamond and a matching silver band.

Taking it from him, she pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Daryl, we been married.”

He nodded. “Know that.” He shrugged and held up his left hand. On his fourth finger, sat a silver band. “I’ve been lookin’ ever since the prison, but most of the jewelry shops down in Georgia had been looted. Found one with Rick when we were out yesterday.”

She smiled and slipped the ring on her left ring finger. “There.”

“Looks good on ya.”

She leaned up and caught his mouth in a kiss, fisting her hand in his shirt as he deepened the kiss.

Pulling away, she smiled. “Should take this home, yeah?”

They made it home in record time, what had been a fifteen-minute journey, ending in their bedoom barely eight minutes later.

She pulled her shirt off over her head and framed Daryl’s face in her hands, drawing him down into a kiss. He slid his vest off, throwing it over a nearby chair and reaching back to pull his button up over his head without unbuttoning it.

Attaching her lips to his clavicle, she moaned, stepping in to press as close to him as possible. She moved to mouth at his jaw. “I love you, Daryl Dixon.”

He caught her lips and backed her toward the bed, tongue slipping into her mouth. Opening her jeans, he slid his hands down the back of her pants, palming her ass. “I love you, too, Mitzi Dixon.” He hummed and kissed her again, biting gently at her lips. He pulled away, wrapping his arm around her waist as she stepped free of her jeans. 

She pushed at his waistband fruitlessly and huffed when he wouldn’t let her push back far enough to get his pants undone. 

She looked up, prepared to fuss at him and tilted her head at his expression, soft and vulnerable. “What?”

He shrugged. “Never liked my last name until you started wearing it.”

She smiled brilliantly, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. “Never liked my last name until I started wearing yours.”

He chuckled and pressed his forehead to hers. He kissed her again, deeper, more intimate, swallowing her groans and holding her to him. She sighed as he moved them closer to the bed, her knees bending instinctually when they hit the bed. 

He urged her toward the head of the bed, moving to follow her down when her head hit the pillow. 

She stopped him. “Jeans, Dixon.”

He grinned and undid his belt, maintaining eye contact as he pushed his pants down and stepped free of them. 

She sat up on her knees and pulled him into a kiss, hand drifting down to ghost over the head of his penis.

He moaned into her mouth and pushed her back gently. He nodded at the center of the bed. “Wanna eat you out.”

She laid back, holding a hand out to him, and pulled him onto the bed next to her. Settling over her, he mouthed at the swell of her breast and ran a hand down over her belly. She arched into him and gasped when he sucked his thumb into his mouth before thrumming at her clit with quick movements. 

He pressed his forehead to hers and rubbed his fingers down over her core, pulling wetness up to her clit. He ghosted his lips over hers and maintained eye contact, tutting mockingly when her eyes grew heavy. 

“Keep lookin’ at me, baby.”

She breathed deep and locked her eyes with his, biting her lip when he eased a finger into her, thumb still thrumming at her clit.

He kept the pace deliberately slow, pulling away completely when she tried to rush the pace by rolling her hips into his hand.

She huffed, frustrated despite the building heat in her belly. She looked down, neck arching to get a look at his hand. He tsked, his free hand grabbing her jaw and redirecting her eyes to his. She gasped as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to her mouth, feeding another finger into her.

“Keep those pretty eyes up here.” He grinned when she whined in response.

“You never useta be a tease, D.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Y’bring out the best in me.” Eyes hot on hers, he sped up the motion of his fingers only to all but stop a minute later.

She let out another noise of wordless frustration. “Please, baby.” He hummed and she squirmed against him, trying to speed him up. “Please, what?”

She reached up and petted his face, pressing a kiss to his lips. “Just a little faster, baby, please.”

He cooed at her. “Not enough for ya?”

Shaking her head, she dug her fingernails into his shoulder. 

“That’s too bad, I’m havin’ fun.”

She whimpered and he rewarded her, adding a third finger. Gasping against the burn, she arched hard into him and held his eyes as her walls fluttered around his fingers. 

Moaning against her mouth, he laughed. “Guess it was enough. Or are you just that easy for me?”

“It’s you, baby.” She nodded, mouth open and gasping against his, eyes still locked on him. “You’re so fuckin’ hot.”

He grinned and sucked his fingers into his mouth. “Taste good, baby.” He kissed her hard and then dragged his mouth down her body, his eyes closing as he sucked her nipple into his mouth.

“My pretty baby.” He mouthed at her belly and then held her gaze as he moved to lick up her slit with one broad swipe of his tongue.

She moaned and reached for him, digging her hands through his hair. “Daryl, please.”

He pressed an ironically chaste kiss to her clit. “Say my name again.”

“Daryl.” She drew it out, almost rolling the r, back arching and toes curling as he treated her with little kitten licks to her clit. 

He pressed his face to her and worked at her earnestly, sucking her clit into his mouth and pressing his fingers back inside her. “Yer so hot n’wet, baby.”

She nodded, twisting her fingers, inadvertently pulling at his hair. Groaning, he rutted his hips into the bed. “For me?”

“Always for you.”

He shifted to lick down at where she was stretched around his fingers. “That’s right. All mine. My pretty little wife.” He muttered, almost to himself, and attached his lips to her clit again, angling his fingers so they battered up against that spot right behind her pubic bone. 

She arched so hard that he hooked his free arm around her hips, pinning her to the bed. A couple more hard thrusts of his hand and she seized up against him. 

Moaning his name, she collapsed bonelessly. “Fuck, D.”

He kissed her, laying over her like a heated blanket. “Pretty when y’cum.” She reached down to trail her fingers over his dick. He pulled his hips away. “Almost there. Just want y’to catch your breath.”

She smiled and nodded. “I’m good.”

He moved to lay next to her, arranging her back against him. “Not too sensitive?” 

She flinched minutely when he petted over her core lightly. “A bit, but sometimes that makes it even better.”

He turned her head to kiss her. “No rush though.”

She reached down, swiped her hand through her own wetness and wrapped her hand around him.

He moaned into her mouth and she pulled gently at him, pressing kisses to his jaw as his neck arched. 

“You’re so gorgeous, D.”

He pressed his face to her shoulder and groaned into her skin. Pulling away, he batted her hand out of the way and drew her leg back over his hip. They both groaned as he rutted himself up into her. 

The position required more of a grinding motion than either of them preferred, but it didn’t take long for the heat to build again. 

He reached up and cupped her breasts, using his hold on her to grind her harder back into him.

“I’m almost there, baby.”

He grunted, nodding against her jaw. “Me too.” He moved one hand down from her breasts and pinched her clit. She came with a shout of his name, Daryl following soon after. 

**

“So, how’d you get out?”

“One guard can’t cover two exits.” Jesus was smug, more smug than Mitzi thought he ought to be. “Or third floor windows. Knots untie and locks get picked. Entropy comes from order, right?”

“Right.” Daryl drawled.

He glanced up at Daryl as he came to stand next to her, all rolling shoulders and angry breathing. He shifted so Mitzi was behind him, cheek pressed to his bicep to peer around him.

“I’m not going to hurt her.” Jesus seemed vaguely offended. 

“I know you ain’t.” Daryl scoffed. “You couldn’t handle her on her worst day. I’m protectin’ you if anythin’.”

“From what?’

“Me, asshole.” Mitzi grinned, teeth bared. “I was lookin’ forward to the tapioca I saw in that truck, the one that’s now at the bottom of the lake.”

Jesus appraised her and seemed to come to the conclusion that they were exaggerating. “I checked out your arsenal. I haven’t seen anything like that in a long time. You’re well-equipped, but your provisions are low.” He sighed. “Very low for the amount of people you have. 54?” He asked Rick.

Maggie crossed her arms, Glenn leaning forward, pistol on the table, on her other side. “More than that.”

Jesus remained unconvinced. “Well, I appreciate the cookie. My compliments to the chef.”

“Yeah. She ain’t here.” Daryl rasped, still holding his revolver in his gun hand.

“Look, we got off to a bad start.”

Mitzi snorted. “Y’mean when you tried to rob us?”

He glanced at her then up at Daryl. “But we’re on the same side - the living side. Y’all had every reason to leave me out there, but you didn’t. I’m from a place that’s a lot like this one.” He glanced around the table. “Part of my job is searching out other settlements to trade with. I took your truck because my community needs things, and you looked like trouble,” Jesus looked at Mitzi and smiled. “Especially you.” He shrugged. “But I was wrong.”

“No, you weren’t.” Rick nodded. “She is trouble.”

She reached out and shoved Rick’s shoulder, flipping him the bird.

Daryl crossed his arms across his chest, leaning back against her. “Y’lucky you didn’t come ‘cross just her.”

Jesus looked mildly, playfully shocked. 

“Kinda wished she had been out there by herself.” Rick rubbed over his face. 

Daryl nodded. “Woulda road-hauled his ass.”

“We woulda had that truck.”

Mitzi grinned. “Guess I’ll start doin’ runs by myself then?”

“No, y’won’t.”

Jesus smiled, more genuinely. “You’re good people and this is a good place. I think our communities may be in a position to help each other.”

Glenn spoke up. “Do you have food?”

“We’ve started to raise livestock. We scavenge, we grow. Everything from tomatoes to sorghum.”

“Tell us why we should believe you.”

“I’ll show you.” He smiled around the table. “If we take a car, I can take you back home in a day, and you can all see for yourselves who we are and what we have to offer.”

**

Rick pushed off the desk he had been leaning against. “We heard the name Negan. While back, Daryl and Abraham had a run-in with his men. Who is he?”

“Negan’s the head of a group of  people he calls the Saviors. As soon as the walls were built, the Saviors showed up.” Jesus sighed. “They met with Gregory on behalf of their boss. They made a lot of demands, even more threats. And they killed one of us, Rory, he was sixteen years old. They beat him to death right in front of us. Said we needed to understand, right off the bat. Gregory’s not exactly good at confrontation.” He shrugged. “He’s not the leader I would’ve chosen, but he helped make this place what it is and the people like him.”

Maggie nodded. “He made the deal.”

“Half of everything. Our supplies, our crops, our livestock, it goes to the Saviors.”

“What do you get in return?”

Jesus smiled at Glenn, holding his hands up as if to say ‘this’. “They don’t attack this place. They don’t kill us.”

Daryl set his hands on the back of the couch Mitzi was sitting on. “Why not just kill them?”

“Most of the people here don’t even know how to fight, even if we had ammo.”

“Have you tried trainin’ people?” Mitzi sat forward. “You have the numbers and damn tall walls. With a little training, it wouldn’t matter if you had ammo.”

Jesus shrugged helplessly. “I was prepared to but Gregory forbade me.”

“Forbade?” Mitzi tsked. “That chickenshit just rolled on over, huh? Decreed that you couldn’t fight back. What a fuckin’ dick.”

Rick stepped forward. “Well, how many people does Negan have?”

“We don’t know.” Jesus sighed. “We’ve seen groups as big as 20.”

“Now, hol’up.” Daryl rasped. “So, they show up, they kill a kid, and you give them half of everything? These dicks just got a good story.” He paced around the couch. “The boogeyman, he ain’t shit.”

“Well, how do you know?”

“The bells and whistles ain’t necessary if you ain’t afraid and you ain’t afraid if you have real power.” Mitzi nodded. “They’re just bullies on a really fucked schoolyard.” 

Abraham nodded. “A month ago, we took his guys out PDQ. Left them in pieces and puddles.”

Daryl glanced down at Mitzi. She nodded. “You know, we’ll do it. If we go get your man back, kill Negan, take out his boys, will you hook us up? We want food, medicine and one of them cows.”

Jesus looked at Rick who shrugged. “Confrontation’s never been something we’ve had trouble with.” Rick turned to Mitzi. “What do you think?”

“I’m for it.” Mitzi crossed her arms over her chest. “There are a lot of unknowns but I think if we can get some answers, we can get it done, easy-peesy.”

Jesus nodded, still unsure. “I’ll take it to Gregory.”

After Jesus left, they walked out onto the balcony to get some air and take stock of the settlement.

“They have food. We don’t.” Rick spoke softly, still trying to convince the more reticent group members, namely Maggie and Michonne. “We don’t have enough of anything. Except us. What we can do.” He turned back to the group, nodding. “This is the trade.”

Maggie sighed. “It’s gonna cost us somethin’.”

Mitzi nodded. “Yeah, it will. But it’s something we’re gonna end up paying one way or another.”

“Are we sure that this is worth that price?” Michonne shrugged. “What if we wade into something we don’t wanna be a part of.” 

Setting her hands on her hips, Mitzi sighed. “I wasn’t getting the impression that Jesus was exaggerating. It lines up with what Sasha and Daryl told me about runnin’ into them.”

Michonne leaned back against the railing. “Jesus doesn’t come across as someone who’d lie to get us to do something for them.”

“These assholes had the cajones to stop a fuel tanker with motorcycles.” Mitzi rubbed at her face. “They’re gonna come for us and since everyone else is rollin’ over and showin’ their bellies, they are gonna expect us to as well. Best to get rid of them now.”

Glenn nodded. “We aren’t assassins though.”

“No, we're soldiers.” She smiled sadly. “Soldiers get paid to kill people, too.”

Glenn stared at her and reached over to squeeze her shoulder.

**

She settled next to Daryl in the pew, patting his thigh as he ran his arm along the back of the pew behind her.

Rick stood and began to explain the current situation to the Alexandrians that hadn’t gone with them. “We can work with the Hilltop. Maggie hammered out a deal. We’re getting food, eggs, butter, fresh vegetables. But they’re not just giving it away. These Saviors, they almost killed Sasha, Daryl, and Abraham on the road. Now, sooner or later, they would’ve found us, just like those Wolves did, just like Jesus did. They would’ve killed someone, or some of us, and then they would try to own us. And we would try to stop them, but by then, in that kind of fight, low on food, we could lose. This is the only way to be sure, as sure as we can get, that we win. And we have to win. We do this for the Hilltop, it’s how we keep this place. It’s how we feed this place. This needs to be a group decision. If anybody objects, here’s your chance to say your piece.”

There was silence before someone stood in the back of the church. 

Morgan shuffled, looking down at the ground. “You’re sure we can do it? We can beat them?”

Rick considered him quietly, before glancing down at Mitzi. “What this group has done, what we’ve learned, what we’ve become, all of us- yes, I’m sure.”

Mitzi nodded. “They aren’t like super soldiers or nothin’. I dealt with assholes like this all through my military career. You got a narcissistic leader and all the little worker bees he’s scared into doing his bidding. He strong-arm’s some people, intimidation, big shows of force, but he’s only holding on because of the fear. We can beat ‘em.”

Morgan seemed to be working himself up to something. “Then all we have to do is just tell them that.”

Rick stuttered, floored by Morgan’s naivety. “Well, they don’t compromise.”

“This isn’t a compromise. This is a choice you give them. It’s a way out for them and for us.”

Mitzi leaned forward, Daryl running his hand over her back. “Look, I understand, this is a hard thing to contemplate doin’, but we gotta. In order for what you’re suggestin’ to work, they have to believe that we can do it. As much, if not more, than we believe it ourselves. This Negan guy doesn’t know us from Adam. He is not going to believe us, just because we tell him so.” 

Morgan shook his head, still looking down. “We should try, though. Try to tell them.”

“Not if it risks our lives.” Mitzi stood. “I don’t know you that well, Morgan, but I have done what you’re askin’ us t’do. I have walked up to the warlord’s office and said, ‘surrender or we’ll kill you’.” She snorted. “And that was while I was wearing a US Army uniform, holding my rifle, the full authority of the US government behind my every word. It still didn’t go well, not consistently enough to make it worth it. It got people killed, people that didn’t need to die, and it will get people killed now.”

Sighing, Morgan turned to address her. “Why did you choose to do that, if you didn’t think it’d work?”

“I didn’t choose nothin’. My commander said ‘go and do’ and I went and did.” She threw her hands in the air, sitting back down. “My choice would've been to take them out with as minimal cost to my men as I could. Just like we need to take these guys out with minimal loss of our people’s lives.”

Rick nodded. “We try and talk to the Saviors, we give up our advantage, our safety. No. We have to come for them before they can come for us. We can’t leave them alive.”

“Where there is life, there is possibility.”

Mitzi’s jaw dropped but Rick beat her to it. “Of them hitting us.”

“We’re not trapped in this. None of you are trapped in this.”

“Morgan. They always come back.”

Morgan sighed. “Come back when they’re dead too.”

“Yeah, we’ll stop them. We have before.”

Morgan looked down. “I’m not talking about the walkers.”

Mitzi stood again. “The only time I have ever seen someone after they died, in the way I think you’re alluding to, whether it be in nightmares or flashbacks, it was when I didn’t act and the person or persons I failed to kill took out one of my people. I have regretted the deaths of a large number of people, but never the death of some wannabe dictator like this asshole.”

Rick breathed deep. “Morgan wants to talk to them first. I think that would be a mistake, but it’s not up to me. I’ll talk to the people still at home. I’ll discuss it with the people on guard now, too, but who else wants to approach the Saviors, talk to them first?”

**

“Mitzi will take point. It’s her plan and she is by far the most experienced at this.” Rick nodded to her and she stepped forward, hand holding Daryl’s loosely.

Mitzi sucked in a breath. “We don’t know exactly what we’ll find when we breach those doors. We don’t know what the layout of the building is, not exactly. So we’ll have to do this slower than we would’ve liked. We’ll draw out the guards with Andy. When one of them goes back in to grab the hostage we’ll move in, killing the guard that stays outside.”

“What if they both go back in?”

She smiled at Aaron. “They won’t. If they do, this’ll be much easier.”

He looked confused. “Why?”

“Because that will mean they don’t have a clue what they’re doing. One will stay out to keep an eye on Andy while the other goes in to get the hostage-”

“Craig.” Andy cut in. 

“Craig.” Mitzi nodded. “Once the second guard is dead, Andy and Craig, whose condition is unknown but not likely to be good, will take off back to Hilltop. At that point, we’ll breach.” She sighed. “Because we don’t know the layout, we’ll go room by room, splitting into teams to cover hallways as we come to them. Use your knife as long as you can but you will have to neutralize everyone you come across. We can’t risk them comin’ up behind us, dead or alive.”

“Neutralize?”

She shrugged at Gabriel. “Best word for it. I don’t have time to sugarcoat anything today. Kill them and make sure they don’t get back up. Points to remember: This is a buddy system sorta thing. One is trigger-ready, the other opens the door. Be as fast as you can but safety and quiet is more important.” She breathed deep, looking out at the assembled men and women. “This sucks and most of y’all ain’t never had to consider this before. I’m sorry, but we need us t’do this. Let’s get all of us home.”

Everyone nodded and Mitzi checked her magazine almost out of habit and slid it back in, toggling the rifle to automatic. 

Heath passed by her and she stopped him. “I’ve seen you shoot. You’re a good shot, but start bending your elbows when you aim. You’ll have more control and stamina. The tension should be in your biceps, not your elbows.”

He nodded, nervousness written all over his posture. 

She squeezed his shoulder. “Stay on me. I got ya.”

He wandered over to Glenn and she felt Daryl’s hand on her waist. He stood from the hood of the car and pulled her gently to him.

She turned and buried her face in his chest. Breathing deep, he pressed his nose to her hair. “You okay?”

She shrugged. “I know this is the right move, the only move, but I have a feelin’ we’re about to start somethin’.”

He nodded. “I feel it too.”

She breathed deep and stood straight, nodding as she squared her shoulders. She moved to leave and he stopped her, pressing a kiss to her mouth quickly. 

“Love ya, Spitfire.”

She smiled and knocked some of the hair out of his eyes. “I love you too, baby.” 

**

She stepped in front of Carl, clenching her jaw as the gray-haired dickwad that had been on their tail all day, held his hands up in parody of surrender. 

He grinned, standing to his full height as if that would intimidate her. “I’m just talkin’ to him, sugar. Don’t worry, I don’t decide who dies.”

She pulled her pistol from the holster and shoved it and the AK she had been using against his chest. She thanked whatever god applied that she had had the inkling to hide her M110 before leaving Alexandria.

He stumbled back, holding her weapons and the handgun he had taken off of Carl, jaw flexing as he decided how he was gonna react to her. In the end, he grinned and reached over her shoulder to flick at Carl’s hat.

“See? No harm, no foul.” He turned to shove the guns at some flunkie and smiled at them. “Okay. Let’s get her down and get you all on your knees. Lots to cover.”

Abraham, Sasha, Aaron and Rick lowered Maggie as gently as they could, helping her to her knees. Rick, shell-shocked and overwhelmed, gaped at the small army surrounding him. 

The head-prick approached almost politely. “I’m gonna need you on your knees.”

Mitzi grabbed Carl’s hand and drew him to the ground next to her. He moved to say something and she shook her head.

Once they were all settled, head-prick hollered at another flunkie. “Dwight! Chop-Chop.”

Her jaw clenched when Michonne, Glenn, Rosita and Daryl emerged from the van. Daryl caught her eye from across the group, pale and obviously wounded. 

Glenn was the last out, settling to his knees with a plaintive, “Maggie?”

Head-Prick smiled and backed up to the RV. “Alright! We have a full boat. Let’s meet the man.” He rapped on the side wall and moved away from the door. 

“Pissin’ our pants yet?” The man held a bat over his shoulder and grinned. “Boy, do I have a feeling we’re getting close.” He paced the length of the group, staring down into their faces. “Yep. It’s gonna be pee-pee pants city here real soon. Which one of you pricks is the leader?”

“It’s this one. He’s the guy.”

He sighed and approached Rick with slow unbothered steps. “Hi. You’re Rick, right? I’m Negan. And I do not appreciate you killing my men. Also, when I sent my people to kill your people for killing my people, you killed more of my people. Not cool. Not cool. You have no idea how not cool that shit is. But I think you’re gonna be up to speed shortly. Yeah. You are so gonna regret crossing me in a few minutes.” He grinned again. “Yes, you are. You see Rick, whatever you go, no matter what, you don’t mess with the new world order. The new world order is this, and it is really very simple. So, even if you’re stupid, which you very well may be, you can understand it. You ready? Here goes, pay attention.” 

He swung the bat down, pointing it over Rick’s shoulder. “Give me your shit, or I will kill you.” 

He chuckled and Mitzi dug her fingers into her thighs to avoid jumping clean over Sasha and wrapping her hands around his throat. 

“Today was career day. We invested a lot so that you would know who I am and what I can do.” He sauntered a few steps down the line and held his bat up pointing at Rick. “You work for me now. You have shit, you give it to me. That’s your job. Now I know that that is a mighty big, nasty pill to swallow, but swallow it you most certainly will. You ruled the roost. You built something. You thought you were safe, I get it. But the word is out, you are not safe, not even close. In fact, you are pegged. More pegged if you don’t do what I want. And what I want is half your shit. And if that’s too much, you can make, find or steal more, and it’ll even out sooner or later. This is your way of life now, the more you fight back, the harder it will be. So, if someone knocks on your door, you let us in, we own that door. You try to stop us and we will knock it down.”

He stopped. “You understand?” He held his hand over his ear. “What? No answer? You don’t really think that you were gonna get through this without being punished now, did you? I don’t want to kill you people. Just want to make that clear from the get-go. I want you to work for me. You can’t do that if you’re dead, now, can you? I’m not growing a garden. But you killed my people, a whole damn lot of them. More than I’m comfortable with. And for that, you’re gonna pay. So now, I’m gonna beat the holy hell outta one of you.” He brought the bat up, showing it to Rick. “This… This is Lucille, and she is awesome. All this, all this is just so we can pick out which one of you gets the honor.” 

He stopped in front of Abraham, who stared back at him, jaw set, shoulders pulled back. Negan smiled. “Huh.” Running a hand over his beard, he looked over at Mitzi. “I gotta shave this shit.” 

He sauntered over to Mitzi. “You related to Big Red over there?”

Mitzi stared back, unflinchingly, seething when he had the audacity to laugh. He squatted in front of her. “No answer, baby?”

She grit her teeth and vaguely contemplated headbutting the asshole. Daryl knew her too well, however, and shifted forward on his knees. “Spitfire. Don’t.”

“Spitfire?” He grinned. “What an interesting name. I’ll bet, with a name like that, that you have a classic red headed temper. Always did like a red headed woman. They are fiery, sexy, and so much fun.”

She didn’t answer, didn’t flinch when he pushed into her space, almost nose to nose with her. She stayed still, eyes on his, as he raised a hand to tug on a loose spiral. She stared back at him, head high, shoulders squared.

He looked up, ostensibly to address his audience, but Mitzi knew the truth. He had lost the staring match. 

“What is the probability that one group will have two unrelated gingers, much less two gingers like these motherfuckers? Tough as nails, I swear. Neither of them have fuckin’ flinched.” 

There was a small smattering of hollow laughter and he looked back down at her. 

“You are the toughest broad I have ever had the absolute pleasure to have on her knees for me. But I reckon that he might be a tad bit tougher than you.” He winked. “You’re prettier than he is, baby, don’t worry.”

She arched an eyebrow and her lip curled. “I ain’t.”

Part 8

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl #daryl dixon x oc #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon smut #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Mordechai Murdock

Masterlist

We were driving by that old house when we noticed an ambulance and cop cars surrounding the place. Dean pulls over and we walk out of the car and walk towards the house just as they bring out stretcher, which was covering a body.

"What happened?" Dean asked a man, who walked out of the house. "A couple of cops say a girl hung herself in the house." The man said and we look at him, shocked. "Suicide?" Sam asked. "Yeah. She was a straight A student, with a full ride to UT too. It just don't make sense." The man said before he walks away.

"Whaddaya think?" I asked the boys as I turned to them. "I think maybe we missed something." Dean said and Sam nods.

That night, we come back to the house only to see a police car parked outside and two cops were walking around. The three of us crouch down into the bushes. "I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there." Sam said to us. "Yeah but we still gotta get in there." Dean said just as I hear some whispers that didn't belong to us.

I peek out from our hiding place and see Ed and Harry creeping up towards the house. "I don't believe it." I groaned and the boys look over and see them, hunched over and wearing all sorts of gadgets, whispering and shushing each other.

"I got an idea." Dean said to me. Then he rises slightly, turns towards the cops and cups a hand to his mouth. "Who ya gonna call!" He shouts and we see Ed and Harry looking around, shocked. "Hey! You!" The cops yelled and the two idiots began to run away while cops chased after them, which made us laugh.

Seconds later, we make a break for the house and enter just as we break out the rifles. Dean pulls out a flashlight and looks around until he settles the light on that symbol. "Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killing me!" Dean exclaims in frustration. "I know! I've tried to rack my brain but....nothing." I said to him as he and I look at the symbol. "Come on, we don't have much time." Sam said to us and we follow him.

We go down to the basement and look around. I see a shelf with lots of jars full of something and apparently so did Dean. He spies the jars and picks one up for a closer look, the pale red liquid sloshes around inside.

"Hey Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this." Dean said and I shake my head. "What the hell would I do that for?" Sam asked him as he continues to look around. "....I double dare you." Dean said to him. Sam just shakes his head and looks away.

Dean grins then looks at me. "Hey, (y/n), I dare you to drink it." He said and I look at him. "Not just no, but hell no. You drink it." I said when suddenly a noise alerts us. We jumped then move toward a cabinet. At Dean's nod, Sam opens the door and rats squeak and run from the flashlight.

"Arghh! I hate rats." Dean said in disgust as he and I raise up our foot. "You'd rather it was a ghost?" Sam asked him. "Yes." Dean shouts then he looks over at me and his eyes widen. "(Y/n)!" Dean shouts. I turn around and see Mordechai coming at us with an axe. 

Sam and I shoot him a couple of times but he's still there. Dean shoots him again and Mordechai mists away. "What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?" I asked them. "I dunno. Come on. Come on, come on!" Dean shouts and we run.

As we run toward the stairs, Mordechai smashes his axe down, which catches the shelves and bringing the jars crashing down on Dean. Then Mordechai and Sam begin fighting. "Go! Get outta here!!" Sam said just as we run and Mordechai smashes the electrical box, making sparks fly everywhere. 

We bolt for the door and burst out and fall through the emergency tape. We roll down the steps and spring immediately to our feet and kept running.

Just as we make it out, we see Ed and Harry standing in front of us, holding up a camera. "Get that damn thing outta my face!" Dean shouts as he shoves them away. "Go go go!" I shout as we run off and head back to the car.

The next morning, we were at the motel racking our brains at what was going on. Dean was sitting on the bed drawing the symbol while Sam and I were reseaching. "What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me. This whole damn job's buggin' me. I thought the legend said Mordechai only goes after chicks." Dean said, annoyed.

"It does. I mean, he went after (y/n)." Sam said. "I know, but why me? Or you? Actually, scratch that last question. I already know the answer." Dean said and I roll my eyes as Sam shakes his head. "Hilarious." Sam said, sarcastically. "The legend also says he hung himself but did you guys see those slit wrists?" He asked. "Yeah." Dean and I said in unison.

"What's up with that? And the axe too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?" Sam asked. "But this mook keeps changing." I said and Sam starts to click away on his laptop. "Exactly. I'm telling ya, the way the story goes..." Sam said but then he stops and looks at his laptop.

"...wait a minute." He said, confused. "What?" Dean and u asked. "Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site. Listen to this. They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an axe before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity." Sam said and I raised an eyebrow at this.

"Where the hell is this going?" I asked them, as I rub my temples. "I don't know but I think I might have just figured out where it all started." Dean said and Sam and I look at him.

We make our way to the music store and enter inside to see Craig walking around. "Hey Craig? Remember us?" Dean asked and Craig's head drops before he turns to us. "Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions, ok?" He said, depressed.

"Oh don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all." Dean said then he flicks through some albums on a shelf then picks up an album. "You know I couldn't figure out what that symbol was and then I realized that it doesn't mean anything." Dean said to me and Sam as we slowly approach Craig. 

"It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult." Dean said and I let out a noise of realization. "That's where I've seen it." I said then we turn to Craig, who looks at us nervously. "Tell me Craig, you, uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people? Now, why don't you tell us about that house...without lying through your ass this time." Dean said to Craig as he glares at him.

"All right, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. Ah, I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls, some from some albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we...we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean I, I thought it was funny at first but...now that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear!" Craig explains to us.

"All right." Sam said, softly, then we began to turn to leave. "If none of it was real how the hell do you explain Mordechai?" I asked them once we get out of the store.

After we got back from the music store, Sam and I did some research about what Mordechai could be. After finding something that fit the description of Mordechai and matching some of the symbols, Sam went to go take a shower and I went into my room and got a shower as well.

When I came back, Dean was already back and in the shower and Sam was already dressed and gathering up his stuff. But I noticed that every now and then he would fidget and adjust himself. I kinda shrugged it off as Dean finally got out of the shower, all dressed up, and we head to the car to go find us something to eat.

"There you go." The server said to us as she hands us our coffee. "Thank you." I said and we make our way to a table, Sam was grimacing and adjusting his jeans. "Dude what's your problem?" Dean asked Sam. "Nothing, I'm fine." Sam said.

"You sure?" I asked, concerned.

"Yeah." Sam said.

"So, ahhh, all right keep going. What about these Tulpas?" Dean asked us. "Ok, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualised a golem in their head. The meditated on it so hard they bought the thing to life. Outta thin air." I explained as we come up to a table.

"So?" Dean said. "That was 20 monks. Imagine what 10,000 web surfers could do. I mean Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard." Sam said.

"Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?" Dean asked. "Maybe." I said while Sam looks uncomfortable. "People believe in Santa Claus -- how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?" Dean asked. "Cuz you're a bad person." I replied, quickly, and Dean glares at me as Sam pulls out his laptop.

"And because of this..." he said as he turns his laptop, showing us a photo of one of the symbols in the house. "That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this, not even knowing what it was. Now that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai...I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life." Sam explains.

"It would explain why he keeps changing." Dean replied as Sam grimaces and adjusting himself. "Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone." Sam explains. "That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work." I added. "Yeah because he's not a traditional spirit." Dean said while Sam continues to fidget. "Yeah." Sam said.

"Ok. So why don't we just...uhh ... get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?" Dean asked. "Well it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own." I said to him. "Great. So if he really is a thought form how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?" Dean asked, annoyed. "Well it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their home page." Sam explains as he continues to itch and fidget and shows us a footage from the previous night, which was of those two idiots filming Mordechai running towards the doorway.

"Since they've posted the video their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone." Sam said. "Hmph. I got an idea. Come on." Dean said as he gestures with his head. "Where we going?" I asked him. "We gotta find a copy store." He said and we rise up to go while Sam continues to itch

"Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something." Sam said and Dean starts to laugh as he walks away. "You did this?" Sam asked as Dean continues to laugh. "You're a friggin jerk!" Sam shouts at Dean. "Oh yeah." Dean laughs as Sam gathers up his things. "I'm sorry you have an asshole of a brother." I said to Sam. "Yeah, me too." He mutters as we follow Dean.

Later that day, we come up to this little trailer and Dean bangs his fist against the door. "Come on out here guys, we hear you in there." Dean yells at them. Finally, the door opens and the two schmucks stick their heads out then opened the door wider where we could see them in normal baggy clothes.

"Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging -- what a shock." I said, with sarcasm, and Dean smiles. "Guys, we need to talk." Sam said to them. "Yeah, um, sorry guys...and gal. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now." Ed replied.

"Ok well we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website." Dean said and Ed starts to laugh. "Man, you know, these guys got us busted last night, spent the night in a holding cell..." Ed said as he turns to Harry. "I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright." Harry grumbles.

"Why should we trust you guys?" Ed asked us. "Look guys. We all know what we saw last night, what's in the house. But now thanks to your website there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai." I said to them. "That's right. Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt." Dean explains.

"Yeah, yeah..." Ed said, disbelief. "Ed, maybe he's got a point, maybe...." Harry said but Ed shakes his head. "Nope..." he said then Harry turns to us. "No." Harry said, firmly. "We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth." Ed said.

"Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now --" Dean said as he starts to walk towards them but Sam and I grab him and hold him back.

"Dean--Dean, hey, hey, just, forget it, all right?" Sam said to him. "These guys...probably bitch slap them both, Sam and I could probably even tell them that thing about Mordechai...but they're still not gonna help us. Let's just go." I said then Ed and Harry took some double takes to us. 

"Whoa...whoa..." they said in unison as Dean turns to me. "Yeah, you're right." He said, in a defeated tone, and we start to walk away but I could hear Ed and Harry following us.

"What you say about...?" Ed said just as Harry said. "Hang on a second here."

"Wait...wait." Ed said, frantically.

"What thing about Mordechai, you guys?" Harry asked as they catch up with us. "Don't tell 'em, guys." Dean said to us. "But if they agree to shut the website down, Dean." Sam said. "They're not going to do it, you guys said so yourself." Dean said to us.

"No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it." Ed pleads to us and we stop then turn to them before Dean turns to us. "It's a secret, guys." He said before Sam turns to Ed and Harry. "Look, it is a really big deal all right." Sam said and I nod. "And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down." I said to them.

"Totally." Ed said, nodding. "All right." Sam and I said and we nod to Dean and he hands them some paperwork. "It's a death certificate. From the '30s. We got it at the library. Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound." Sam explains. "That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself." Dean said as Ed and Harry look up at us, shocked.

"He shot himself?" Ed asked. "Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of them." I said. "Matter of fact they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds -- it'll kill the sonuvabitch." Dean said.

Ed and Harry snigger gleefully then Harry spins and bolts back toward the trailer, Ed follows more slowly. "Harry. Slow your roll buddy. They're gonna know we're excited." Ed said and Dean, Sam and I exchange a knowing look.

That afternoon, the boys and I were sitting in a booth of another restaurant. I was sitting next to Sam, who was looking at his laptop, and Dean was sitting across from us. He reaches up to the 3D artwork of a fisherman holding a big fish and pulls the cord. The fisherman's mouth moves up and down and had an extremely annoying laugh that played..

I reach up and pull the cord to stop it then glare at Dean. "If you pull that string one more time I'm gonna kill you." I threatened. Dean, deadpan, stares at me while pulling the cord again. I immediately stop it, glaring at Dean. "You're gonna regret that." I said and he snickers. "Bring it on, princess." He challenged and I give him a dirty look.

"Guys, they posted it." Sam said as he moves the laptop around so we could see it. "We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms." Dean reads as Sam eats his salad. "All right. How long do we wait?" I asked Sam. "Long enough for the new story to spread, and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall iron rounds will work on the sucker." Sam replied.

Sam holds his beer out to us and we lift our own and tap them together. "Sweet." Dean said and he takes a long drink and Sam and I start grinning. Dean goes to put the bottle down but it is stuck to his hand. Sam and I crack up as Dean stares at it, confused. 

"You didn't." Dean said, stunned, as he looks up at Sam and we continue to laugh as Sam holds up the super glue. "Oh, I did!" Sam said as Dean shakes his hand while Sam, laughing, pulls the string to set the fisherman laughing again.

After distracting the two cops to get them away from the house that night, we enter the house on alert, guns drawn, then we begin a methodical search, staying back to back. Dean readjusts his gun hand. "I barely have any skin left on my palm." Dean said, snarky. "I'm not touching that line with a ten foot pole." I said and Sam nods. "Same here." Sam said.

Dean shines his flashlight in our faces until we wince, then moves into the other room. Sam and I follow him. "So you think old Mordechai's home?" Dean asked us. "I don't know." Sam and I said in unison.

"Me either." A voice from behind us said. The boys and I spin around and aim our guns, only to see Ed and Harry. "WHOA!! WHOA!!" Ed yelled and we sighed and lowered our guns.

"What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?" Sam asked them, angrily. "We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, ok?" Ed said when we heard the sound of knives being sharpened from the basement.

Immediately, the boys and I were back on alert as we face the basement door. "Oh crap." Ed said as he and Harry crowd close behind us. "Ah guys, you wanna ... you wanna open that door for us?" Ed asked us, nervously. "Why don't you?" Dean asked them.

Seconds later, Mordechai bursts through the door holding an axe, screaming. Sam, Dean and I empty our gun chambers and Mordechai holds on, then wavers and disappears into mist. We wait a moment, then we take off to ensure the other rooms are clear.

Then I run back into the kitchen room where Harry and Ed were looking around, frightened. "Hey! Didn't you guys post that B.S. story we gave you?" I asked them as Dean and Sam come in. "Of course we did." Ed said. "But then our server crashed." Harry explains. "Yeah." Ed said.

"So it didn't take?" Dean asked and the two men give him nervous looks. "So these guns don't work." I said. "Yeah." Ed said. "Great. Sam, any ideas?" Dean asked Sam. "We are getting outta here." Harry said. "Yeah." Ed mutters. "Come on, Ed." Harry says, grabbing Ed, and they run past us to the other room, Sam follows them.

"C'mon, I got an idea." Dean said to me and he starts to gather up some kerosene cans. "Are you sure?" I asked Dean. "What other choice do we have?" He asked and I nod then we started splashing kerosene everywhere.

"Guys!" We hear Sam screaming from the next room. We run in the room to see Mordechai having a hold of Sam by the throat and had him up against the wall.

"HEY!" We shouted and Dean holds up a spray bottle and lights the gas and a blast of fire appears. "Go go go!" I shouted to Sam as Mordechai let's him go. Sam runs past us, Dean and I follow then we pull Sam as he stops and leans over, holding his throat.

"Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him -- We improvise." Dean said as he holds up his lighter, flicks it, and throws it back into the room. It bursts into flame as we run outside.

"That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?" Sam asked as we get outside. "Well nobody will go in anymore. I mean look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty but it works." Dean said.

"Well what if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?" Sam asked. "Well -- well then we'll just have to come back." I said and we stand there and watch the house burn.

"Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just cuz people believed in them." Sam said and I shrug at him.

The next evening, Sam, Dean and I were hanging out by a picnic table at the trailer park when we see Ed and Harry carrying grocery bags. "I was thinking that Mordechai has a really super high attack bonus." Harry said to Ed as they get to their car. "Man I got the munchies right now." Ed said then he turns to the boys.

"Gentlemen." He greets then he turns to me and smiles at me. "Madame." Ed said as he winks at me. "Hey guys." Sam greets and Harry turns to Ed. "Should we tell 'em?" Harry asked his friend. "Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades." Ed said and Harry turns to us.

"So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer." He said. "Oh yeah, wrong number?" Dean asked and he and I chuckle. "No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it." Ed said as they place their grocery bags into a totally overloaded car. "And create the RPG." Harry said.

"The what?" Dean asked, confused.

"Role playing game." Ed said and Dean nods.

"Right." Dean said, like it was obvious. "A little lingo for you. Anyhoo, ahhh, excuse us, we're off to la-la land." Ed said. "Well congratulations guys. That sounds really great." Sam said. "Yeah. That's awesome, best of luck to you." Dean said and I nod at them. "Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent." Ed said and we all nod at each other.

"Later." Ed said and he and Harry get in the car and start pulling off. "See ya round..." Ed calls out and they head out.

"Wow." Dean mutters. "I have a confession to make." Sam said. "What's that." Dean and I said. "I, uh...I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer." Sam said, grinning, and Dean and I start to laugh. "Yeah well I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat." Dean said and the three of us began to laugh.

"Truce?" Sam asked Dean. "Yeah truce. At least for the next 100 miles." Dean said and I start to smile as the boys get into the car.

Dean starts the car and just as he does that, a large cloud of pink glitter flies out of the air vents and hits the boys in the face. "What the hell?!" Dean exclaims as he and Sam cough. "I thought you said truce?" Dean asked Sam, angrily. "I didn't do this!" Sam said and I get into the backseat and started to laugh.

Dean and Sam turn their heads to me as I pull out the empty glitter container and showed it to them. "You did this?" Sam asked me and I nodded. "Do you know how long this is gonna take to clean all of this crap up?!" Dean asked me, angrily. I laugh again and nodded. 

"But now you guys look fabulous!" I laughed, pointing at their glitter covered face. "I'm gonna kill you!" Dean growls and I lean forward and smiled, mischievously. "I like to see you try, Winchester." I said and I tapped his nose with my finger then lean back as Sam shakes his head and turns forward.

Dean glares at me once more before he faces forward and curses under his breath and we began to take off.

#fandom #fanfic #fan fiction #reader insert #x reader #supernatural #dean winchester #dean winchester x you #dean x you #supernatural dean #supernatural fanfic series #supernatural fandom #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #fantasy #tv show fandom #tv shows

[babygirlbdubs]

ethubs + 7? :D

handwritten / promised (x) (2336 words) (help)

cw// suggestive (heavy making out whoops)

-------

Kings rise.

Empires fall.

There is no peace, even in the jungle.

***

It started with murmurs in hidden meeting rooms and messages passed back and forth between the resistance leader and his allies. They needed more firepower. They needed more assistance. The king had a whole court. What did the resistance have?

Not enough.

It started with a trek through the underbrush in a desperate search for the result of a dream. Etho had been quiet about where he was living now-- not even Bdubs knew. Etho offered safety and intelligence and skill. He offered knowledge.

If only they could find him.

It started with a discussion in a small hovel, three voices explaining their cause, one silent as he listened. The king is a tyrant, they told him. The king has gone mad, they said. The king’s claim must be removed, they declared. All they’d need in return is his assistance when requested, and the precious solitude of his hidden base.

Etho could provide them that.

***

The basement of the Monolith is chilly, though Etho’s jacket keeps him warm enough as he rifles through the few chests left unemptied. The last of his belongings are packed away in shulkers, ready to be moved out to his new location-- far away from the political strife wracking Hermit Village.

“Etho? ‘S that you?” a familiar voice calls from outside the poorly-hidden door.

Etho’s vulpine ears perk, angling toward the greeting. His tail swishes against the ground lightly as he immediately recognizes his visitor.

“Bdubs!” Etho calls back as he stands from his crouched position. “Come in!”

Bdubs is already halfway through the door as Etho turns around, his eyes conveying the warm smile his mask hides away.

“What’re you doing back here? I thought you’d moved out to the jungle!”

Though it's said with a light tone, Etho can feel the pang of sadness tied to each word.

“Er… Yeah. I have. I’m just picking up the last of my things, is all! Don’t worry, I’ll be outta you and Ren’s hair soon.”

Sure, the words may be loaded as his smile falters, looking down to close the final shulker.

“Oh, well. I mean-- Ren’s moved into the Crastle now, so it’d just be--” Bdubs halts, mouth hanging open for a moment before he continues. “Well, technically I guess it’d just be you.” He clears his throat. “I’ve, um. Moved into the Crastle, too. B-But! If you wanted to stay here, you could!”

“Nah, Bdubs, you know I need my own space. There’s no room for all my ideas here.” The shulkers are tucked away. “Plus, the jungle grass is always greener,” he jokes with a soft laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his tail sways from one side to another.

“Yeah, yeah, you ‘n’ your grand plans,” Bdubs grumbles affectionately.

Etho lets out a chuff of laughter. “As if you’re any different, Kingmaker.” The title rolls off his tongue with ease. Where others might curl their lips around it as though it is poison, it almost sounds sweet in Etho’s mouth.

“I’m just doin’ what’s best for the server!” Bdubs stands a little taller with pride, though Etho’s gaze shifts to something almost despondent at the sight.

The distance between them is closed as Etho crosses the room tentatively, hesitating just in front of his…his Bdubs. “Some people disagree. Call him the Mad King…”

Bdubs’ nose scrunches up in distaste. “Bah! What do they know, huh? Ren’s doing great stuff!”

A slow exhale escapes Etho. “Just. Be careful, okay?”

Confusion crosses Bdubs’ face as he blinks up at Etho. “Yeah. Yeah, of course, Etho.”

Another moment of hesitation hangs heavy between them before Etho finally reaches up to his own face, peeling his mask down to press a soft kiss to Bdubs’ forehead.

I’m sorry.

***

Etho doesn’t speak to Bdubs much after that. A quick hello on the communicator on occasion. A horse left on Bdubs’ front step.

Bdubs speaks even less to Etho.

He’s probably busy, and Etho shouldn’t be fraternizing with him anyway. Bdubs is the enemy now.

The thought makes his stomach churn.

But he hears it over and over in Resistance meetings. The names Kingmaker and Hand thrown around with such disgust they may as well be curses. He hears of Bdubs’ devotion and loyalty and can only admire them. Even if it does burn in his chest to think too deeply on the implications of that devotion too long. Etho has heard Bdubs associated with distaste so often now it barely causes his ears to twitch anymore.

‘I know this must be hard,’ Impulse had said one night, and it’d taken everything in Etho not to snarl back that Impulse could never understand just how hard it is.

‘Yeah,’ was all Etho had managed back.

Time passes, and Etho wonders if he ever crosses Bdubs’ mind at all.

***

White locks of hair fall into Etho’s face as they loosen from the ponytail holding his overgrown hair back. The humid air of the jungle is something he’s used to, but it never stops making him sweat on the days where he labors over his builds. His mask traps the heat on his face, but with how volatile things have been as of late, he can’t risk an unannounced Resistance meeting catching him unaware. Impulse has swooped in from the sky without warning more than once already.

So, with the sun high and beating down on his back, it seems a perfect time to take a break. He wipes his hands on a nearby rag, redstone mixing with sweat on his bare arms as a reminder to properly clean up later. For now, though, he stretches his arms high over his head, his back arching as he walks toward his steadily expanding home.

The last thing he expects when he approaches his door is a barrel with a sign atop it.

ETHO.

His ears perk as he stares. Impulse was the type to hide a music disc inside with a message. Gem and Pearl would’ve left whatever items in his hidden mailbox for Resistance members only. Which only means… Ah. Someone else has finally found where he lives.

With narrowed eyes, he approaches, checking around for any signs of traps. His ears swivel, listening for any signs of people watching from the undergrowth, but all is normal. It’s… just a barrel with his name on it.

Shrugging to himself, he crouches down, his tail brushing the jungle floor. The barrel is opened, and the contents pulled out.

A clock. The time stopped at midnight.

Etho’s brows furrow, his ears flattening back. A clock. Bdubs is the only one who crafts clocks. Certainly the only one who’d gift a clock. Unless, of course, it was some kind of threat to Etho, but he doubts that considering… well… everything.

Running his fingers over the clock, however, he feels something scratched into the back. Flipping it over, it becomes clear what this is. Or, at least in part.

‘Crastle’ it reads in messy scratch. Handwritten.

A time. A place. A meeting.

***

The new moon hangs in the sky, hidden among countless stars. A good choice for a meeting Etho’s certain neither of them would want to be seen attending.

He rides in on a horse, black pelt nearly invisible in the darkness. Etho’s own hair and tail would be the most striking, but with barely enough light to see the path ahead, he doubts many would see him as more than a wolf in the woods.

Approaching the mountain upon which the Crastle towers, he can’t help but marvel at its beauty beneath the starlit sky. Everything Bdubs touches turns to gold. He’d said it once before, seasons ago, but it remains ever truer with each passing day.

His horse is left tied off at the base of the mountain, not suited to make the steep climb that awaits him. He pulls out his pickaxe and takes a deep breath of the cool air, the atmosphere in high contrast to that of the jungle.

An axe weighs heavy against his back. He knows very well this could be far more than just some clandestine meeting under cover of night.

He knows even better that he could never raise a blade against Bdubs.

***

“Bdubs,” he hisses into the dark as he hangs from the side of a balcony-- the only one illuminated by any light.

Silence greets him. Gritting his teeth, he adjusts his grip in the vines wrapped around his forearms and leans out to look at the moon.

Almost midnight.

. . .

“Etho?” a whisper finally greets back, followed shortly by the sound of boots against deepslate.

Bdubs. It’s Bdubs.

“Down here,” he says as he twists to face the balcony, tail lashing to keep his balance so he can pull himself up. He holds himself up against the railing, not wanting to cross the threshold without Bdubs’ invitation.

Etho didn’t realize how close Bdubs was to the railing, however, as he’s met immediately with Bdubs’ doe eyes mere inches from him.

“You actually came.”

The disbelief in Bdubs’ voice cuts Etho to the core. He tries a short laugh, tail swishing behind him a few times.

“Heh. Yeah. Was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me or something.”

A multitude of emotions cross Bdubs’ face in that instant, rolling like tumultuous waves before twisting over themselves and swallowing his expression whole. Bdubs looks as if he is drowning in them.

And then he is surging forward, hands reaching out, cradling Etho’s face to pull down his mask-- Etho’s breath hitches in surprise-- before his lips are on Etho’s in desperation.

If Etho weren’t perching over a deadly freefall, he’d melt into the kiss with reckless abandon. But instead, he hums softly into it, leaning into Bdubs while his hands grip tightly to the railing. He doesn’t allow himself to get lost in it-- not yet. But Bdubs’ hands are warm against his chilled face, and his lips soft and perfect as they lock against Etho’s.

But the kiss ends just as suddenly as it was initiated.

“You’re stupid if you think that,” Bdubs mutters against his mouth. “Thought about you every damn night.”

Etho would be lying if he said those words didn’t cause warmth to blossom in his chest.

“Well, I am the enemy, y’know,” he says, a facetious smile curling across his scarred mouth.

“Oh, shut up!”

Bdubs’ hands move down to Etho’s jacket, fists curling into fabric as the Kingmaker grips him tightly before helping to haul Etho onto the balcony in full.

“Y’know,” Etho starts, putting his hands over Bdubs’ before they can be pulled away. “At first I thought this might be a trap.” It hurts to admit, and the way his voice quiets gives it away. To think that Bdubs might do this just to catch him… just to make a dent in the Resistance…

His eyes betray what his words do not: I’m still not sure.

But Bdubs just steps closer still, gaze warm and affectionate as it meets Etho’s. “No. Never.”

“Promise?”

Etho doesn’t want to admit that his teasing smile is to hide his fears.

“I promise.”

It is the first time Etho has truly relaxed since all this began. And he relaxes right into Bdubs, dipping his head down to meet Bdubs in a kiss once again. He feels Bdubs’ grip on his jacket tighten, sending a chill through his veins. Etho’s hands release Bdubs’ to unbuckle the harness that keeps his axe secure, shimmying out of it and dropping it to the floor carefully-- just enough that the metal clinks softly against the stone.

That’s enough of a cue to Bdubs, who starts tugging Etho toward a pillar. The request is easy enough for Etho to fulfill, one hand cupping Bdubs’ face while the other finds his hip as he backs Bdubs against the column. Bdubs grunts softly but doesn’t dare break the kiss.

The pair’s lips move against one another hungrily, Etho quickly feeling greedy and tugging Bdubs’ bottom lip between his sharp teeth delicately. Bdubs gasps quietly as Etho breaks away to meet Bdubs’ needy gaze.

“I missed you,” Etho says in a low tone. It’d be a growl, if it weren’t so smooth.

“God, Etho. I missed you too,” Bdubs practically whines in return.

Etho’s eyes flicker across Bdubs’ face, committing each detail to memory. The starlight reflected in his deep brown gaze. The flush of his cheeks from the heat between them. The way his lips rest lightly parted, anticipating Etho’s-- ever patient.

And who is Etho to deny his silent request? Especially when it’s one so pretty.

Their lips lock together again, practiced kisses deepening with each moment until they are fully lost in one another, tongues and teeth familiar to each other. Etho presses against Bdubs, one hand reaching behind his neck for his fingers to find purchase in Bdubs’ curly hair. The other hand grips Bdubs’ hip tighter, enough that he wonders if there might be bruises in the morning. He doubts Bdubs would mind if there were.

And just as ravenously, Bdubs’ hands wander, unzipping Etho’s jacket to slide beneath. They roam his chest, his stomach, his hips-- pulling him closer-- before wrapping around to rake down Etho’s back. Etho presses him against the stone even harder, wanting nothing more than to be close to the man before him.

His mouth breaks away from Bdubs’ only to plant kisses along his jaw, tracing his jawline to his neck. Bdubs tilts his head to the side for Etho, who eagerly accepts the offering, tongue and teeth working to leave a mark. And then another. And another. Until Bdubs has a hand in Etho’s hair and is pushing him away just enough for his lips to brush against Etho’s ear.

“Stay with me tonight?” he mutters.

“Won’t your king be upset?” Etho murmurs back.

He can feel Bdubs smile against him.

“Tonight, my devotion is yours.”

#hermitshipping #ethubs #uuuhhhhhh ahahaha.... whoops i did it again #resistance au #i don't have much else to say except i may have been self indulgent in feeding my brainrot for this one #gestures vaguely #enjoy bestie #spooky.writing #fic #cw// suggestive #hc resistance au

[angry-trashcan]

I think it's only fair I send you one in return<3

❖ pick 2 fics and I’ll combine them somehow - hair holds memories and snakes and waterfalls<3 (ofc only if it isn't a bother)

♫ send a fic and i’ll make a 3-5 song playlist for you

braided lilac please 💞

Anything for you Wifey <33

❖ A gunshot pulled you from concentration on Wild's braid. Flinching only slightly from how close it was, you looked over to the source of the sound. Wind was laughing maniacally across the clearing, hands in the air, pistol in one. Twilight hit the back of his head at something he said which caused you to laugh a bit, bringing your focus back to the braid.

"That damn kid." Wild huffed out.

"He'll grow outta it I'm sure. He's only ever shot a gun a handful of times." You tyed the braid off and patted his shoulder, signaling you were done. "We best just keep 'em away from Sky's rifle."

Wild snickered a bit, looking over to the sleeping man. "Yeah him, not me though." Your attempts to stop him did nothing as the gravedigger grabbed the blue rifle from next to Sky's snoring body. "I don't get why he keeps such an eye on this thing. Sure it's a bit heavy and big, but it ain't no better than any other rifle."

"Wild-"

"Imma go shoot it." He made his way across the clearing, flowers flowing out of his hair when he reached the rest of the men who were doing target practice. Words you couldn't hear were exchanged before laughter and Wild taking aim at a bottle some ways away.

The sound that echoed through the clearing had you covering your ears and shocked Sky awake, sitting up and reaching for his missing rifle.

"Where is it-" His eyes quickly found it on Wild's chest. Who was laying on the ground trying to catch his breath.

The rest of the group was laughing hysterically around him, not even trying to help the probably out of place shoulder. You rolled your eyes before getting up and making your way to them.

"That's what I was tryin' to tell ya. Thing's got recoil worse than a rattlesnake."

"Thanks for the warnin', Y/N. 'Preciate it." Wild coughed out.

♫ Sooo I already have a playlist for Hair Holds Memories as a series 😅 it's here. But I'll give some that go more towards Braided Lilac specifically! (And link them all to be extra)

Dear Arkansas Daughter - Lady Lamb

Tongues & Teeth - The Crane Wives

First Love/Late Spring - Mitski

You're Not Welcome - Naethan Apollo

Lilacs - Waxahatchee

#giving Ceres a country accent just *feels* right #she needs one #actually. new canon that Ceres has a lil accent #this was so much fun akdbsk #ask game! #Ilysm Moss 💞 #my wifey <33

[sodabranch]

Halo here! Tbh, I wanted to save up more ideas, before hitting up the ask box again, but I felt a bit stressed. Realised that hearing your feedback = increased happiness = less stress. It's nothing serious, just past stuff bothering my brain :(

1. Justice, who's master just had a near death scenario. For instance, a forest giant is nearing the ship, and everyone else is inside the ship and ready to start. But one employee just outside the ship is about to get snatched, so Justice grabs its rifle and shoots the beast in the eye, distracting the giant and giving it ample time to pull them to safety. After they start the ship to get outta there, Justice is still clinging onto the employee, because it was so worried about nearly losing them.

Justice remaining clingy until bedtime, but still watched them carefully, and demands to accompany them the whole time next mission. Heck, would Justice insist they stay inside to do camera duty?

2. On the subject of Justice's original master(s) having kids in the house. Obviously, despite its eagerness to help with the chores, you'd want the kids to learn some responsibility. The question is, how well would Justice respond to being told to hold off on cleaning, and letting the younglings to it? Would it obey just fine, still insist on helping the kids, or secretly do a lot of the cleaning when the master isn't around?

~ Halo

You're for some reason always catching me on my free time. Anon to OP psychic communication...

Also dw about it! I really hope you can find some time to relax and that stress passes quickly <3<3!!! I'll always be here to hear anyone out

Justice would really be agitated after that encounter :(( yeah It would want to stick by your side until it feels confident enough to let you go by your own, still worrying about something happening again,, maybe being extra careful, checking on you more often. On that first night it would loom over you for most of the night, wanting to grab your hand to make sure you're really there

Definetely being more adamant about what tasks you perform... Still giving you freedom but please always return safely!

--

Alsooo that's funny,, I believe it would reluctantly follow the instructions given because yes, master always has the last word

Then just watch from the distance, seeing if there's anything it can help with;; opportunistic as ever,,

#ask #my guys #i love your asks they bring happiness to my world

[artdecosupernova-writing]

7 Snippets, 7 People

Rules: Post 7 snippets and then tag 7 people

I was tagged by @drabbleitout, thanks so much! and tagging (with no pressure whatsoever) @pertinax--loculos, @sleepy-night-child, @drippingmoon, @zmwrites, @sleepyowlwrites, @ashen-crest, and @druidx :)

Rebirth—

Thrive led them, the air ahead shimmering with a shield. The dilapidated wooden door to the building swung open and he instantly pushed forward, tossing several venevans back into the complex. Guetry and Osillo rushed in, engaging in the firefight first, taking out five of the checkpoint officers even before everyone else could catch up. Warren clocked one in the face with the butt of his rifle as they tried to jump him from around the corner, and the twins moved back-to-back through the fray.

Once Guetry and Osillo took cover behind consoles, Thrive became Warren's guardian, blocking him from stray bullets and providing the best vantage as Warren picked them off one by one.

"Why do you get the hot bodyguard?" Guetry shouted over the cacophony of energy rifles and gunfire.

"You have the breastplate, genius," Warren retorted, popping a shot into a venevan that blew his cover behind a wall.

"Yeah, that's really gonna come in clutch when a bullet pierces my fucking skull. Thanks, Cougar."

Eternal—

"I came to see you for two reasons," Thrive continued, the patient warmth returning to his voice. "First and foremost being that I wanted to check in on you and tell you that Warren and I have thought about you every day."

Guetry sniffed. "Thanks. I missed you guys."

"Secondly…and more urgently, I fear…I want a full evaluation in regards to you and your SCOT system since being untethered if I'm to make an informed decision about what steps I need to take in ensuring the Consortium has upheld their end of our agreement. I wouldn't," he warned suddenly, throwing a murderous glare and holding up a hand in the direction of a muffled commotion going on beyond the screen of the tablet. "My trust in your reports prior to this was close to nil, as I suspected you'd left out significant aspects of Guetry's wellbeing while untethered. Now that I've seen him firsthand and have as such confirmed my suspicions, I want it straight from the source."

"Sir," someone said through the intercom, "this is something you'll have to take up with the prison, as they've been reporting Guetry's condition and—"

"N-no," Guetry interrupted, and he fought to be heard over the arguing attendant. "Tha-hat's not true and you assholes know it. I had remote visitation with Co—with Co…with 'Sort officers weekly to talk about my cond—my condition. Hell, NodeSource checked in every so often, and I think you might be keeping them outta my reach under a pile of blood red tape, fuckers!"

"Easy," Thrive murmured, reaching forward to grip Guetry's hand. He watched him in an interim of quiet between the two of them as the muffled discussion continued in the background, attentive gaze falling over his profile as the tension melted away from his wiry frame. "You're safe."

Eternal—

Thrive broke concentration from ——— and slowly looked to the hillside, at the cresting army of eliyi, and Warren witnessed something happen that he couldn't accept, not for hours, not for days. The glow in his pupils pulsed, and he stretched a hand at the wall of eliyi.

All of them were dissolved instantly, all at once. Empty space as suddenly as a blink over the stone. The dust swirled in a weak cyclone with snow kicked up by feet that were touching the ground a second ago, faded to nothing but atoms in the wind.

The glow disappeared and Thrive glanced up at Guetry's shuttle, which had stopped directly overhead.

"Get in," Quincy said, holding a hand out to Warren.

Warren, however, was rooted to the spot. He stared at the hillside, where hundreds of eliyi had been just a moment prior, with nothing short of horror and disbelief, his limbs going numb in it. He turned his face to Guetry, who had gone still in the door of the shuttle, blown back by the event as well. They locked eyes for a second.

Thrive picked Warren up and tossed him into the shuttle, climbing in after him. The door closed as Thrive took over the controls. "We have five minutes," he muttered.

They took off, tense as the sky seemed to ignite into a massive fireball behind them. Warren, from the floor against the wall, watched in stunned silence with each second the ground got farther away. He watched the mountains disappear in the distance, and his blood ran cold as ——— appeared in his view in time for them to dock within the Laiori R'si.

"Go, go, go, go!" Guetry shouted as Emnophene and Osillo booked it from the shuttle bay. He was more serious than he'd ever been, hurrying everyone onto the main part of the ship. "Get us out of here, Varussa!"

Aurora—

The hair on the back on Warren's neck stood on end and he squinted, attempting to get a better look at whatever was in the darkness. Another object hit the viewscreen and he flinched, but it sped away before he could identify it.

Something felt familiar about this. A chill ran down his spine, followed by a sprouting of goosebumps all over his arms.

The things hitting the viewscreen began to pick up speed, bouncing off one by one until several of them began to plant themselves against the glass. It only became clear what they were when a pair of pale, unseeing eyes peered inside the bridge after their body slammed full-force at the center of the viewscreen. A gaunt face, long limbs, an extra joint on each finger. 

"Oh, god," Guetry muttered, short of breath. "...Oh, god."

Warren took a horrified step back and bile rose in his throat. He couldn't find words intelligible enough to say, and he couldn't peel his gaze away from the dead obhelian sliding up the glass, staring with lifeless terror right at him as it tumbled away and into space.

More and more of them stuck to the glass and fell away until the whole viewscreen was smeared with fuchsia blood and Warren physically couldn't watch anymore due to sudden lightheadedness.

"What in the hell is that?" Mercury demanded from the door.

Warren took a shaky breath, turning his attention elsewhere, his nausea increasing with each thump against the ship. "This is a hallucination Thrive experienced when he was thrown from Andromeda."

Emnophene and Varussa stared, twin expressions of revulsion on their faces behind their hands clasped at their mouths. Guetry's eyes welled despite his concentrated glare, and Mercury's jaw tightened, unable to look away.

Meridian—

The medics, with Thrive's and Mkeerkiq's guidance, were able to brace the spine enough to slide them onto a stretcher. Warren stayed with them until they'd been lifted out of the sinkhole.

"I gotta get back to helping more of your peers, okay?" he said, standing over the hovering stretcher. "You're in great hands now. They're gonna take you to a shuttle, and that shuttle's gonna take you to a starship, and maybe you'll be able to find friends or family aboard. There's even a chance we'll run into each other later."

Mkeerkiq seemed less afraid, now. "Thank...you."

On a whim he didn't fully understand, Warren reached over and stroked the side of Mkeerkiq's face. They closed their eyes, their relief palpable, and the medics carried them away.

Thrive motioned for him to come back into the sinkhole.

"Man," Warren grunted, ducking inside again. "My paternal instincts went off hard just then."

"I noticed." Thrive moved aside a large rock so they could pass. "In case I haven't told you this recently, you're an incredible father."

"And why was now the perfect time to tell me?"

Thrive peered around the dark sinkhole for signs of further distress. "Because I think you may have needed to hear it."

Meridian—

Thrive gently pushed his plate away from him. "I think I'll try to rest for a while."

Thoeala pressed a hand to Thrive's cheek. "You do feel chilled. The stress probably caused you to catch something from Efthim. You want me to call Gouna into the bedroom?"

Steadily getting to his feet, Thrive nodded. "That could be wise. Warren can attest that...I haven't been at my best since I lost…"

He blinked hard at the table and Warren stopped chewing. Thrive placed a hand palm-down on the marble to balance himself and the color drained from his face.

"Are you even gonna make it out of the room, dude?"

Thrive took a step back and went down hard, his shoulder catching a chair and splitting it clean in half on the way. Thoeala leaped out of her seat, running for the stairs along with a couple of the sentries, shouting through the hall for Gouna while Warren all but vaulted over the table to get to Thrive.

He was still awake, but disoriented, and Warren carefully made sure he hadn't cracked his head open.

"Hey, hey," Warren said gently, trying to sound calm for his sake though his heart was in his mouth. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

"Lightheaded," Thrive managed to say, staring up at the ceiling. His breathing came through shallow. "Lost strength."

Gouna hurried into the room ahead of Thoeala and the sentries, a supplies bag slung over his shoulder. Everyone else gathered at the bottom of the stairs, concerned and confused. He shooed the other sentries away so he could have access. "Symptoms?"

"He just said he's lightheaded and weak," Warren said. "When we left Efthim he said he felt pressure in his chest, but that went away after he and I—after he rested." He grimaced at the near slip-up, stroking Thrive's hair from his face. "I don't think it's come back since."

"Did he rest or not?" Gouna asked pointedly.

Warren rolled his eyes. "No."

Warpath—

He counted the patterns on the ceiling for a while as Cascidi cleaned up, anticipating his turn shortly after. When Cascidi entered the room again, drying his hands with a fluffy towel, Warren hugged a pillow beneath his chin and smiled at him.

Cascidi returned the smile. "So what's the protocol, Your Highness?"

Warren's smile dropped, as did his stomach. He found himself at a brief loss for words.

"...Am I going to be imprisoned for this torrid affair? Is the king going to draw and quarter me?"

Wincing, Warren lowered his head to the pillow. "You figured it out."

"Oh, I knew the whole time." Cascidi wrapped the towel around his waist. "Just as you've known who I am this whole time." When Warren narrowed his eyes in the midst of the following tension, Cascidi chuckled. "And the user becomes the used."

"I wasn't using you, not really." Warren pushed himself to sitting, drawing the pillow across his lap. "...Maybe a tiny bit. Negligible, really."

"And does His Majesty know about this?"

"Not this, specifically. Not yet. I've gotta tell him next time I talk to him."

"A royally open marriage, is it?"

"Sort of." Warren swallowed.

Cascidi seemed to catch his discomfort. He approached the bed. "A little trouble in paradise?"

"More like a little paradise in trouble." Warren sighed. "He's allowed me...demanded...that I have physical partners when we're apart for too long. As long as they're only physical and never with the same man twice."

"No falling in love, then?"

"Why, were you hoping His Eternal Highness and the High Immortal would throuple up with the Encryptic? That'd be a strange one, wouldn't it?"

At the predicted confirmation that Warren knew who he was, Cascidi's grin returned. "...Call me Jasper."

#tag game #lotta long snippets and lotta crazy moments here ✌🏽😜

[j3st3r-13]

bars,brawls and brotherhood

hey, @bedazzledroach i’m your valentines @gtavfest art swap buddy, i wrote about Trevor/Lamar platonic hangout. this is pretty wholesome in my view however there is mentions of referenced drug use and references to to sex lmao

hope you like it  and happy valentines day :)

pairing: platonic Lamar/Trevor 

word count: 2452 words

summary: Lamar’s bored and thats never good for anybody, especially Franklin as it leaves him to clear up Lamar’s mess, but one fateful night Lamar goes in search of a certain hillbilly to entertain him, Lamar shouldn’t be surprised to realise it ends up in drunken chaos

The bass shakes the dirty floor, and Trevor can still hear the strippers gossiping even over the shitty club music he has blaring so loud that Wade is starting to go deaf. He groans and adjusts his forever-stained sweatpants. He rises to his feet, slowly with his back cracking and re-stretching, maybe he was getting old… but he wouldn't retire like that fat fuck Mikey. 

Fuck him 

The meth head now risen to his full height began scouring the dingy office behind the unicorn for his trusty pipe. He looked under porn mags, fast food wrappers, and files, and rifled through draws. His fingertips brushed the cool glass, and he let his scared lips twitch upwards. He packed the bowl and lit up until the smoke filled all the cracks that fucking Mikey boy had left on his psyche. The meth made him feel whole and undamaged, the aura  of bliss was shattered in the back room by the shrill tone emitting from his cracked IFruit.

“What?” 

“Hey crazy, wanna get a drink fool?”

“You askin’ me on a date Lamar?” teased the now high redneck,

“Oh yeah, I'm gonna suck yo dick and everything.”

“Where do you wanna meet me, princess? Alleyway?”

“Fuck you, ill be at your titty bar in like 10 fool.”

Trevor's phone let out a beep signifying that Lamar had hung up, the psychopath took one last hit from the well-used pipe before strolling out to the bar with his usual swagger. Nikki was working the bar rather than the floor. She went red at the sight of him, no doubt last Wednesday? Thursdays? Team bonding exercise had been in her head, right at the forefront,  from how she gazed at him. Trevor sent her a sultry wink, dropped down onto the stool, and waited for his buddy. Nikki bent over to grab him a bottle giving him a goood view of her ass, and as she approached her boss he spoke with a hushed tone, “You wanna get outta here, Uncle T?”

“Agh, as much as I wanna sugar, I'm waiting on my buddy.” 

Nikki pouted before leaving him in the hopes to score some more tips from the other bewitched patrons. He watched her in action, batted eyelashes, licked lips, allowing good views of her bra… it was how she worked. How his ma worked. Memories of his mother flooded his brain until a firm hand landed on his shoulder and a laugh escaped Lamar.

“Jesus homie, I wanted to get out to hang out with some fool, but if you gonna be chasing these bitches then fuck, imma head back to my place.”

“They aren't bitches Lamar,” Trevor hissed before his anger simmered down and he spoke again with a lighter tone “could be like your and F’s Threesome, where your di-”

“Come on, homie you ever gon let that go!”

Trevor laughed at Lamar's reaction before gesturing for a beer for his “homie”  once the chilled bottle rested in the gangbangers grasp, he muttered, “what's cracking withchu you fucking weirdo?”

“You know, fuckin’,smokin’ fightin’, shootin’ you get it right buddy?”

“Course dog, I'm like a jungle cat, like a panther, I've got this magnetic thing that attracts people yanno?”

Trevor chuckled under his breath and assured the younger man that he fully understood, he finished the rest of his bottle, and then like magic, Nikki had replaced it in less than a second.

Lamar was quiet for a moment before almost awkwardly muttering “so, um since you all up in this mentorship thing/role model/inspiration tip with the homie franklin. I was wondering, you know, why don't you give an up-and-comer the game?”

“yeah…sure you know what professor t’s gon give you a lesson, loyalty- fuck everything else.”

“Like only going to burger shot?”

“Like your brothers are your crew, without them? You're nothing.”

“Well, Frank aint that good of a student if he leaving me on the road to hang with you motherfuckers.” Lamar shot back, clearly irritated by his homies becoming more distant so he chugged the bottle and was brought another by faithful Nikki. 

“Michael doesn't impart the same value system as me.”

“That clear ya weirdo, isn't that the guy that you love at first sighted?”

“Ohhh yes, my dear friend, that's the fat sack of shit I love at first sighted.”

“Fuck man, I dont wanna make you stop acting normal so you wanna get drunk as fuck”

“You read my mind.” With that Trevor called for a bottle of vodka to be brought to the two tattooed men, lamar and Trevor drank a good half the bottle while exchanging stories, quips, and insults. It reminded him of Micheal before the sun melted away his spine.

Trevor let out a shout of laughter at Lamar's reactions, the gangbanger had a much lower tolerance and was going a little green around the gills where Trevor was just starting to become a little unsteady.

Lamar fell off the stool and floundered on the floor like some sort of pissed fish, while the hillbilly howled with laughter. If Trevor did not own the bar then they would've been kicked out hours ago. Lamar cussed him out for not helping a “homie in need” before cracking up as well. Nikki raised a brow but kept the drinks coming in fear of invoking her boss's wrath.

Trevor sluggishly thrust out his hand and pulled Lamar off the dirty carpet before howling with loud laughter when Lamar stumbled and fell face-first into his chest. The gangbanger looked confused at his surroundings for a mere moment, before ripping his face away. 

“Do- dog you smell like shit!” Lamar hissed, the bite drowned in vodka and dopamine. Trevor winked and tossed him a cold- bottle of beer

That was a Mistake 

Lamar was far too drunk to catch the bottle, and the glass exploded onto the floor, with green glass shattering like shrapnel and cheap beer soaking into the carpet, unluckily for the two men something else exploded in their vicinity 

A man, wearing a horrifically ugly polo had stormed over and began yelling at the pair, spittle flying everywhere. “SHUT UP! Why the FUCK haven't you been kicked out yet!” ugly polo kept yelling even when Trevor's eyes had gone dark and the remaining humanity had fled to escape the oncoming bloodbath. His mouth split into a wide grin and his fingers absentmindedly grasped the bottle and prepared to swing. 

A smack echoed through the club, Lamar had smacked him full across the face and was now giggling like a schoolgirl.

Polo went bright red, and Trevor swore he could see steam coming out of his ears like impotent rage. There was a moment of peace and then the club exploded, and fights broke out like rashes, and chaos enveloped the men. Trevor flipped the bottle in his  grasp before swinging upwards and letting out a triumphant roar as it connected.

Polo crumbled and fell to the floor. 

Trevor's wild eyes flitted around him in search of Lamar. Lamar was fighting valiantly but due to his blood being 80% liquor, his swings were mistimed and wide. Wading through a sea of battles, Trevor balled up his fist and sent it hurtling into the men beating Lamar. 

A swift punch to the ribs had wanker one staggering away, and a strong headbutt had wankers twos nose exploding and spraying blood all over the two friends. Trevor pushed down the urge for bloodshed and scooped up Lamar. The gangbanger used him as a human crutch as Trevor dragged them outside.

The fresh air effect was instantaneous, Lamar sobered rather quickly while Trevor calmed as if the fire that violence fed had been doused with a bucket of serenity. Well as serene as it could get with Lamar spitting out blood right next to him.

“You alright down there buddy?”

“All those bitches lyin’ they want Lamar… they all want me … all of ‘em” rasped Lamar as he collapsed, falling onto the broken pavement outside the raging unicorn.

“I'll take that as a no.” mused Trevor as he dropped onto the pavement next to Lamar, resting his back against the bodhi's wheels he slung his arm over Lamar's shoulders and pulled him into a side hug, surprisingly Lamar didnt bitch about the Trevor Philips stench he just coughed before relaxing into it. If he was soberer this could have warranted a very cruel joke about him not showering but he wasn't throwing a fit so the pair remained quiet. Despite the fiasco that had just erupted he could fight the upturn twitch of his lips. He had gotten drunk with his buddy and fought straight after, the ideal Trevor Philips night.

“Whatchu smiling at you fuckin’ weird ass.”

“I saved you in there so I wanna be called sir knight trev from now on.”

“Kiss my ass white as shit knight.”

“Bend over princess.” Trevor thrust lazily in the air, making obscene gestures that would make any sailor blush, but his company was far from some old nun with a stick up her ass or some prude. His company wolf whistled badly and just encouraged it with a mouth that was more alcohol than spit, dripping blood over his green shirt.

Lamar laughed and instantly regretted it once pain shot through his ribs like fireworks. Trevor noticed and demanded to know why the wince, once told he’d been cracked in the ribs by another club goer the hillbilly raised a brow, laughed, and called him a pussy in all of about three seconds. The pair rested next to the truck alongside all the other dirt in the shit hole of a city. The rats were bigger than dogs; there was more plastic in women's tits than the sea; and the residents were fat sacks of lying shit snakes. 

Felt like home.

Sirens flooded his ears, and he lethargically raised his head so that red and blue flooded his vision. Trevor cursed and pulled his friend to his feet for the second time that night, before: dragging him to the passenger side; buckling him in; getting in his seat; buckling himself, and tearing out of the parking lot.

The Los Santos air had become bitter and cold while the moon reigned over the light-polluted skies. Lamar was incoherent and yelling, the driver laughed and swung the car around corners at alarming speeds to the joy of his passenger. Trevor sped around the cracked streets of Los Santos letting the bodhi roar and hug the streets like a koala and tree. 

A warm hand clamped down on Trevor's forearm, snapping him from his reverie instantly, his hazel eyes flitted over to his opposite seat, and let out a soft sigh the gangbanger looked uncomfortable, and slurred out “dog im gonna fuckin’ hurl if you dont cut it out.”

“Whatever you pussy,” Trevor stopped pressing so hard on the accelerator “where to dog?”

“Take me home… I ain't sure you knowin’ where the LD’s cribs such a go- a good idea…” he trailed off, seemingly slipping back into his own mind and ignoring Trevor.

“Are you fucking kidding! The nights just getting started we haven't even had an orgy or killed someone!”

“Dog what, you know what i'm ignoring that, take me to strawberry.” Trevor snarled and went to yank the wheel back to the heart of Los Santos. After realising Lamar gripped the wheel and yanked it in his direction causing the bodhi to swerve across all three lanes. Cursing Trevor rightened the truck and slammed onto the brakes. Eyes flaming like an inferno, he whipped around to face the drunken gangbanger.

“What the fuck Davis?!”

“Take.me.home! I ain't being your emotional support bitch, cause creepers pussy-whipped drive. me .home!” 

“You are fucking deranged!” hissed Trevor, shaking with a mix of rage that slowly was transformed into broken humour. He even began laughing at Lamar's shocked expression, he slammed his foot on the gas and tore away from his current resting spot. Lamar cursed and gripped the door handle as the bodhi raced down the narrow streets, overtaking cars and riding up on the sidewalks.

Trevor sped across a junction, disregarding the traffic lights and the other motors while the gangbanger yelled “when this CRAZY MOTHERFUCKER kills me I want all my shit going to chop! FUCK all those other fools! I dont want you anywhere near my whacked corpse YOU CRAZY FUCKER!”

“I thought you liked crazy driving?” giggled Trevor after Lamar had read his will out loud, and the psychopath raced across lanes.

“FUCK YOU!” cursed Lamar, while the two men argued the roads flitted by until the black man began to recognize his surroundings and their inhabitants. Completely sober and with his heart hammering as he had just snorted an entire bucket load of coke Lamar attempted to calm down with the knowledge that he wasn't far from home to comfort him.

Trevor swung the bodhi into Lamar's neighbourhood, and with a squeal of brakes and a very enthusiastic “ta-da” from the driver, they had arrived at Lamar's crib. The gangbanger punched Trevor in the arm before collapsing into his seat with rapid breaths painting his lips.

“Sooo princess… you gonna invite me in?” asked Trevor with an innocent expression that didn't match his character at all.

“Dog. you got me drunk as hell, started a brawl, and drove like a- like a - like THAT and you wanna be invited in?”

“You started that brawl actually, I saved you that's why I'm the white as-shit knight. So yes I wanna come in”

“Dog you crazy motherfucker… you got coke?.”

“Glovebox, princess, does this mean naughty naughty trevy can come in?”

 Lamar reached forward and dug through the glovebox, grimacing as his fingers grazed over used pornmags until he felt the square parcel, he pulled it out, and even in the moonlight, Lamar could make out the scraggly “coke” written in pink sharpie “Never call yourself that again, but yeah dog we can have a few lines.”

The duo left the car and began walking to Lamar's front door, Trevor tossed an arm over his shoulder and pulled him close as they walked down the front porch. Lamar didn't complain, just fished around his pockets for his keys.

The door swung open and the men walked inside, there were movie posters and a sexy girl calendar depicting the wrong month, Trevor tsked and muttered: “A few… yeah fucking right oh princess this night has just begun!”

Trevor draped himself over the couch, with his arm slung across the back and while Lamar began cutting some very generous lines, he couldn't help but agree.

#gtavfest #Grand theft auto 5 #grand theft auto v #gta v #Gta 5 #lamar davis #Trevor Philips #violence #tw drugs #refrences to sex

[burningflamescurse]

Part One

Injured

Alejandro Vargas x Fem!OC

—————————

Description: During a Mission in Afghanistan, With Medical Special Forces Soldier Alisha “Faith” Coleson, News Gets out that She was Shot, Mexican Special Forces Leader Alejandro Vargas has to Race to Find Her along with the 141 Task Force before her Enemies in Afghanistan do.

Warnings: Gunshot wounds, Shootings, Hospitals, Worried Alejandro Vargas.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She had Been Sent to Afghanistan to Find a High Value Target Suspect That went by the Name, “Jay.” Who’s Real Name was Kayla Soso.

The Woman had Done High Crimes For the El Sin Nombre As Well as Other Crimes in America and the United Kingdom, She was also Wanted for Making Missiles and Stealing from a Local Military Base in America as Well.

Alisha Was apart of the Mexican Special Forces as well, She was Alejandro Vargas’ Third in Command, a Sergeant Major As Well, also Being Known as His Fiance`’.

He was So in Love With her as was She With Him, She was also Somehow Best Friends With Sergeant John “Soap” MacTavish who was From the 141 Task Force in the United Kingdom.

She Smiled as She Looked at a photo of Alejandro as She Laid Low With her Sniper Rifle Looking on at Kayla’s Small Group She Had Acquired in Afghanistan.

She worked with a Female Commander on the Afghanistan Army Base who went by the Name, Talia Bishop.

“Faith, How Copy?” Talia’s Voice Came in from the Radio on her Vest amongst her Other Gear, She Shuffled on the Ground to Press her Thumb Against the button on her Radio to Reply.

“I Copy, I’m alright up here, Kayla’s Group Hasn’t made a Move Yet, No Sign of her Yet, I’ll keep you posted Talia.” She Said, Peeking Through the Viewing part of the Sniper Rifle.

The Radio Crackled Again, “Roger that Alisha, I’ll Be Your Eyes as well, the Tracking device on Kayla is Activated.” Her Voice Came Through.

She Pulled Out the GPS Tracker Out on the Sat Phone She had With her, a Red Dot Indicated Kayla’s Exact Location.

“yep, I see it, about 8 Clicks away from here, inside the Covert Facility.” Alisha Replied into the Radio on her Vest, She Looked at the Group through the Sniper Rifle Once More.

When She Saw a Man She had Heard Talia Speak About being Partners With Kayla and the Russian Mafia She Let Out a Breath.

He wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Talia, How Copy?” She asked into the Radio, it Crackled before Talia Replied into it, “Still here, Alisha you got News?” She asked.

“Not Anything Good i’m afraid, That man you were Telling me About Back at the Base.” Alisha Said When Talia Had a Moment to think She Spoke Next, “Chris Bradford?” Talia asked, “Yeah the American Fugitive that Made it all the way too Afghanistan.”

Alisha Hummed, “Yeah Well he’s Here, and Besides the fact a Couple Of Days Ago When we were Chasing him i’m pretty Sure He saw my Face, He’s Gonna see me.” Alisha Urgently Said.

Talia Let Out a Sharp Inhale Of Her Breath, “Alright Get Outta There Before Chris Finds Out, Now.” Talia Ordered.

“Affirmative.” She Replied, Slowly Moving up from her Spot Cursing herself When She Accidentally Knocked a Rock Down from her Hiding spot.

It Hit one of the Crates Below Causing Chris To Turn Sharply, Looking Straight at Alisha His Eyes Staring at her A Moment before his eyes Widened in Recognition Motioning to the men and Women around him to Start shooting.

“I know Her! Take aim and Fire! Kill her!” Chris Shouted, Bullets Sprayed and Before she Could Move Directly out of the Line Of Fire Two Bullets Hit her, One In her Shoulder and One in her Stomach.

She Rolled away as fast as she Could With her Sniper Rifle, But She Also Crashed her Leg into a Sharp ended pipe With a Deep Laceration on her left Leg Because of it.

She Let Out a Yelp as She Stopped rolling Multiple of the Enemies Coming towards Her, She Quickly Got Up Running as fast as She Could with her Injured Leg Towards the Woods Of Afghanistan.

Chris was about to Send men after her when Kayla Placed a Hand on his Chest Stopping him, “No, My Women Will find her Eventually but let her bleed Out for a While, She Will Die Soon but not Before they Find her.” Kayla Said, Motioning for a few of her women to Chase after The Wounded Soldier.

Meanwhile Alisha Ran with a Limp as The Radio On her Vest Crackled Some More as Talia’s Voice Came Through, “Alisha? How you Copy? Alisha!” Talia Said But the vest had Fallen off as She Had to Get Rid of it as to not Weigh her down as she Ran.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back at the Mexican Special Forces, Talia had Contacted Alejandro and Rudy to Explain to them the Circumstances of the Mission.

“Alisha Had Noticed the Man we were Hunting, Chris Bradford, Was There and Working with Kayla Soso, Who are Both in Kahoots With El Sin Nombre and the Russian Mafia, I had ordered her to get out of there Since Chris had Saw her Face Earlier During the Chase. It was then That She Accidentally made Some Noise and Chris Ordered his Men to fire at her and Kill Alisha, My Guess is She was Injured and Tore off her Vest and Radio so it Wouldn’t Weigh her Down and is Now on the Run With Kayla’s Enforcers After her.” Talia Had Explained to them on a Call, it was Alejandro’s Phone in his office, Rudy was There as well.

“How Injured are we Talking about here?” Alejandro Asked, Honestly worried about how Much Blood Loss was associated With this.

“I’m Looking at the Limited Camera Footage Right now, it Looks Like it’s Pretty Bad, She Took one Round to her Shoulder And another to her Stomach, Her Leg Looked to be Lacerated With a Sharp broken Pipe that She Crashed into.” Talia Explained, “Camera Footage ends there.”

“So She’s Injured, and Will Most Probably Be Delirious from the Blood Loss Eventually and on the run from Kayla’s Enforcers.” Rudy Summed It All Up.

Alejandro Thought For a Moment, “Let’s Get Assistance from the 141 Task Force, we will Need their Help to Find her.” Alejandro Decided.

“Right. I’ll see you guys There.” Talia Replied Ending the Call, Alejandro Could only Hope that Alisha Could Hold on a Bit Longer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was Feeling the Effects Of the Blood Loss Rather Quickly, She had No way Of Contacting Taila or Alejandro Since She had to Get Rid of both her Vest and Radio.

Alisha Stopped at A Tree Leaning on it, She Panted feeling blood Seep from her Wound Even Faster.

She Slowly Pressed her Hand to It, Yelping in pain When it Stung Really badly, “Alright Come on Alisha, You have to Move Faster or Else Kayla’s Women are gonna Find you.” She Whispered to herself, Finding the Strength to Continue on, Until She Found as Secure and Safe Spot To Rest.

She Wondered if Talia already Contacted Alejandro at the Mexican Special Forces Base, but Her Thinking was Cut Off by Kayla’s Enforcers Shouting out a Few Yards away from her Spot.

“Come on! She went this Way!” one of the Women Shouted, footsteps Hurdled down the Slope She had Just Passed, She Quickly Stated To Run from the Tree as fast as She Could, Sweat Rolled Down her Face, it was also Pale from the Blood Loss.

Alisha Limped and Limped until She Finally Collapsed by a Short Slope, She Groaned Now Scared of Loosing her Own Life as The Blurry Figure of Kayla Came into View, “Ah You Poor thing, Too bad your With the Mexican Special Forces.” Kayla Said Before Motioning to her Right Hand Woman, Melody.

“Take her back to the Base, We’ll see how long it takes for her Little Boyfriend to Come to her Rescue.” Kayla Ordered Before walking off to a Male figure who was Most Likely Chris Bradford.

Melody and another Woman Lifted her Up as Alisha Finally Passed Out, She’d Done all She Could to Escape, but Now she Needed to Rest, Save up her Strength.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The 141 Task Force and Mexican Social Forces Were now in Afghanistan, “Hermosa, How Long Had you been Chasing Chris Bradford?” Alejandro Asked Talia Who Crossed her arms Over her Chest.

“For about Three Months Now, He was in America as First, he was arrested for Breaking into a Covert Military Base There, he was in the FBI’s Custody until he Escaped to here.” Talia Explained, “I was Called in to Assist, Amigo.”

“What about Kayla Soso?” Soap asked Next, Talia Sighed, Going over to her Monitors Pulling up everything they had on Kayla Soso.

“Kayla is wanted for Crimes in Multiple Places, here, in Las Almas, in America, the United Kingdom, and Russia.” Talia Started Out, “When She was Caught here, I Called in Alisha, Laswell Said She was the Best, She also had intel from a Local source that Kayla was apart of the Russian Mafia Along with Chris Bradford and were closely Working with El Sin Nombre.” Talia Explained.

“And Where is Alisha Now?” Ghost Spoke Up, Talia Sighed, “We have No Idea, When she Tore her Tactical Vest and Radio off She also Disabled the Tracker on the Gear as well, But we Do know She is injured and on the Run, It’s Very Possible they Kayla has already found her.” Talia Said.

Price Sighed.

“Listen this is a Mission to get one of Our Very Own Back, let’s Do her Right.” Price Ordered.

Everyone Nodded Agreeing.

They Started to Grab Their Gear and Weapons to get Ready to go Out and Search for her.

“I’ll Send you the Location of Kayla’s Base on you’re GPS’.” Talia Said Before they Left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alisha was Leaned up against a wall in What Would Be a Kitchen in Kayla’s base, She was Still Actively Bleeding Out from both of her Wounds and the Laceration on her Leg.

“See Chris, I told you my Men Would find her.” Kayla Said, Chris Rolled His Eyes, “You are a Child in an Adult’s Body.” Chris Mocked, One Of Kayla’s Medics That was Forced to Work With them, was Checking her Pulse Periodically.

“Kayla, She’s Fading, her Pulse is weak and Theady.” the Medic Said, Her Sleeves were Rolled up as She Also wore Medical Gloves As Well.

“Patch her up the best you Can, Can’t allow Our Prisoner to Die Can we?” Kayla Said, before Walking Out Of the Room as Chris Leaned back on the wall to Watch them.

The Medic Worked on Packing the Wounds With Guaze the Best She Could, it Wouldn’t Stop the Bleeding Or be a Permanent fix but at least it would Slow it Down until her Team would Arrive, She also bandaged up the Laceration the best she Could as well, She had Limited Supplies to Work With.

“There we go.” She Said Finishing up, She Turned to Chris, His Eyes were Downcast Away from The medic and Alisha.

“Chris, What is your Relationship with this Girl?” The Medic asked Raising an Eyebrow at the Terrorist in front of her.

“She Saved My Life, Malia.” Chris Told Her, “When I was Still a Civilian, Before Kayla was Blackmailing me, She Saved my Life when I was on the Brink of Death, I just wanted her to Stay Out of Kayla’s line of Fire, You know She’ll kill her Malia.” Chris Said.

Malia Nodded, “I Understand.” She Replied.

Chris looked back at the Unconscious Alisha With Bandaged Wrapped ‘Round The Wounds as best as Malia Could Manage, “Will she Be Okay?” Chris Honestly Asked.

Malia Sighed, “That All Depends in her Friends Back in Las Almas, Right now her Chances are Slim, She’s Actively Bleeding Out from Two Gunshot Wounds and the Laceration on her Thigh Needs sutures, Which of Course Kayla has ordered me to only use our Supplies for her People, So I can’t Do it.” Malia Said, Crossing her Arms as She Bent Down to Check her Pulse again.

“They need to get here fast or Else She’s Not Gunna make it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They were finally Arriving Silently at Kayla’s Covert base, all Ready to infiltrate the Building to Rescue their Missing Operative, Talia was Joining them in the Field for this One.

“Alright Guys, According to Thermal Scans, Two Female Guards are at the Entrance, we need to Take them out Silently before they warn Kayla Of Our Presence.” Talia Announced, Besides Soap Waiting to Bust down the Door.

“Okay, Ghost and Soap, Take them Quietly.” Price Ordered Stepping back from the Door as Ghost Kicked it Down.

They Moved in immediately Shooting the Two Female’s dead, and Silently Lowering them to the Ground and Taking their Weapons.

“Alright in the Kitchen area there are three Bodies, One Looks To be Chris Bradford, Another is an Unknown Medic on file and the Other is an Injured Body most likely Alisha.” Talia Said.

Alejandro Sighed, “well let’s Not Waste anymore time, let’s Go Hermosa.” Alejandro Said and They all Raided the Kitchen, Chris immediately Raised his hands in surrender.

“Please Help her, I’m Done Helping Kayla.” Chris Said, Talia Raised her Rifle at Chris’ head, “Why Did you help her in the First Place?” Talia asked.

“He was Being Blackmailed, Threatened with his Sisters’ Family, same as Me, but She Threatened to Terminate my Pregnancy.” Malia Spoke Up Raising her hands up as well.

“Your Pregnant?” Price Asked, Lowering his Weapon as well, Malia Nodded, Pressing her Hands Against the Bloodied Bandages over the wound on her Stomach.

A Mangled Cough Escaped Alisha’s Mouth, as Blood Spilled from her Lips, “Look I know you have to Arrest Chris for his Crimes, and i’m sure he wants to Redeem himself, but She needs Help.” Malia Said.

“I’ve Kept her Alive for this long but She’s Fading Fast.” Malia Added. She was Still Pressing her Gloved Hands to the Wound on her Stomach.

“Laswell, We need Emergency Evac Now to The Mexican Special Forces Base in Las Almas.” Ghost Said into his Radio, it Crackled before She Answered, “ETA is 3 Minutes, Just Hold On a Little Longer Ghost.”

“You’d Better Have a Good medic on that Base.” Malia Said, Crouching So She Could Tighten the Tourniquet on Alisha’s Shoulder Wound.

“Yeah. You.” Alejandro firmly Said, Malia Squinted her Eyes, “No I Can’t Leave, Kayla—” Malia Started to Say but was Cut off by Rodolfo, “is no longer in control of you or Chris Bradford, You’re Coming With us.” He Said.

Everyone Nodded Their heads Firmly to Confirm this, Malia Stared for a moment before Motioning towards them, “We need to Carry her Out.” She Ordered.

Ghost, Soap, and Rudy all Worked To Carry Out Where The Evac Helicopter was above a Small Medical Team was There as well with a Stretcher for the Injured, Chris had his Hands Behind his Back in Handcuffs.

Once they we’re all in board, Malia Worked with the Small Team Of Medics They had on board, “she Took a High Velocity round to her Stomach and Shoulder, She also has a Deep Laceration on her Left Thigh.” Malia Explained, She Pointed to a Athletic Male with Undercut Blonde hair, “You What’s Your Name?” Malia Asked, his blue Eyes Looked Up.

“Liam.” He Replied, She Quickly Nodded Directing him, “We need Vitals Now, Blood Pressure, Heart Rate, and Oxygen Level.” She Ordered Pointing to a Couple Of Medical Bags on the Floor Of the Helicopter.

Liam Nodded Reaching into the Bag Finding a Blood Pressure Cuff Connected to a Small machine, A pulse Ox monitor Clip on as well as a Cardiac Monitor that was Mobile.

Malia then Looked up at the Other Female Medic of the Team, “And you are?” She asked, the Female had Light Brown hair that Faded into Dirty Blonde to her Shoulders. Her Eyes Were Dark Blue as they Stared into Malia’s Own Hazel Eyes.

“Katie.” She Replied, Malia Nodded Handing her the Supplies to Stay an IV, “Start an IV in her Right inner arm, She Needs Fluids and Most Likely A Blood Transfusion once we get back to Base.” Malia Ordered.

Katie Nodded and Started to get to work, Turning Alisha’s Right arm over to Start the IV, Luckily She had Quite Large Veins So it was Easy to Stick her with the needle.

Malia Opened a Cabinet in the Helicopter finding Three bags of Fluids, She Grabbed all three hanging one on the Small IV Pole Hook on the Stretcher, “Katie Got That IV in?” She asked.

Katie Finished Taping it to her hand With Some Gauze, “Finished.” She Proclaimed, Malia Hooked the IV into the Bag of Fluids, Adjusting the IV perfectly before allowing the Fluids to Transfer to her.

“Alejandro! What is Alisha’s Blood Type?” She asked, “Hermosa, her Blood type is B Negative!” He Called back.

Malia Nodded knowing to look for B Negative blood When they were at the Base.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Malia Finished Stitching up the Stomach Wound, After Fishing Out the bullets from both her Shoulder and Stomach she Stitched them Both Up Now the Only thing Left was the Laceration on her left thigh.

A Small Team Of Medics was Formed, Malia, Katie, Liam, and a Nurse by the Name Lacey.

And Now they were in the Infirmary, As Malia Stitched up her Thigh, “Katie how much CC’s Of Morphine are we Giving her?” Malia asked.

Katie Looked at the IV Drip, “We Gave her 15 CC’s 20 minutes ago.” Katie replied, looking at the logs of medicine they had on file, “Give her 26 CC’s of morphine, she’s been in enough pain already.” Malia ordered, Katie nodded, Liam and Lacey stood by just in case Malia needed their assistance as well.

Katie injected the morphine into her IV, “26 CC’s of Morphine is in.” Katie announced, finally malia finished stitching up the laceration on her left thigh and placed a big white Gauze packed bandage on it. 

“Alright, Liam, hang another bag of B negative blood and another bag of fluids, run another line for the blood transfusions Katie.” Malia ordered, “and what are you going to do?” Lacey asked Malia who sighed, “I’m going to go updated Alejandro and the 141 Task force of Alisha’s condition.” she announced before walking out of the infirmary room. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Malia found them outside of the medical part of the mexican special forces base, “Alejandro!” she called out seeing the man lift his head up as the medic walked closer to them, “Malia, Hermosa, How is she?” Alejandro asked, rudy was behind him along with Ghost, Soap, Price, Gaz, and Talia.

“well, I extracted both bullets without a hitch, I stitched up the wounds pretty easily though her stomach was a messy one, and the laceration was also stitched and bandaged.” Malia announced seeing Talia let out a breath of relief. 

“Right now she is on fluids and having blood transfusions to replace the blood she lost out on the field.” Malia said, “but She still hasn’t woken up yet, I am concerned that with how long she was left untreated on the field and with the large amount of blood she lost, well she needs to be transported to a military hospital, one here that i used to work at, that has more supplies i can use.” Malia said. 

“You know the one in Los Almas?” She prompted, Raising an Eyebrow as to prompt Alejandro to answer her or say something of anything, “Mhm, the one about 7 Clicks from here.” Alejandro replied. 

“Yes but we need to get there fast, If we wait any longer there is a possibility she could slip into a comatose state, a coma.” Malia stated urgently. 

Price nodded his head, “Load her into my truck, I can get her there fast enough.” price ordered, Malia only nodded hoping it wasn’t too late for alisha, that she wouldn’t slip into a comatose state. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

they had gotten her to the military hospital in time to run a few Neurological tests on Alisha to see where her Brain state was at, the Military neurologist that ran the tests was named Kory, a female veteran medic. 

“You were right to rush her here, Luckily her brain is not in a comatose state, Just in an exhausted state due to her injuries and the major blood loss.” kory had Stated, Malia nodded listening to the doctors diagnosis, “It will take a couple of days but after her body gets the much needed Rest it needs then she will start to wake up.” she finished. 

“What about her Status in the Military?” Price asked knowing that sometimes during severe injuries that had happened Shepherd had a habit of discharging People from the military.

“I’ve already spoken to General Shepherd about it, the injuries she sustained aren’t severe enough for a discharge from the military, she will be able to stay in her current job.” Kory reassured them. 

they all let out a sigh of relief, they all knew how much Alisha loved her job. 

“Thank you Kory.” Malia said, She nodded and then walked off but not before placing a comforting hand on the medic’s Shoulder, “welcome home, Hermosa.” Kory said as Alejandro looked on in shock. 

“you’re from Los almas?” Alejandro asked and Malia nodded, “Yeah, Kory and me, childhood friends, entered the military together as both Soldiers and medics 10 years after that Kayla kidnapped me and threatened my unborn Baby after killing the father.” Malia explained.

A Nurse Came Out of the Room Alisha was Set up in, “Mi Verda, I Finished changing her Bandages, you are all allowed to see her.” She Said, Her Mexican Accent Showing in her Face.

“Thank you Hermosa.” Malia Thanked her as the Rest filed into the Large Private room of the Military Hospital.

Alisha was Laid up in the Bed Multiple IV Wires Running from her Right arm, and Her Face Looked Absolutely Exhausted, it was Pale and Dark Eye Bags were underneath her Eyes, a Line of Sheen Sweat Ran on her Forehead.

“She’s Running a 106.5 Degree fever, The longer she Laid out there bleeding the Out, the Higher the Chance was for infection to set into the Wounds.” The Nurse Gently Reminded them.

“She’s On Fever Reducers and Morphine Right?” Malia asked, the Nurse nodded, “Hermosa, Kory Never Judges your Medical Expertise.” The Nurse Replied.

“She is also on Antibiotics for the Infection, She needs lots of Rest.” The Nurse Said Going over the Doctor’s Orders.

The Nurse left without another Word, Leaving the Group to Mull over Alisha’s Condition, Malia Placed a Soft hand on Alejandro’s Shoulder.

“I’m Sorry I Didn’t Help her Fast Enough, and I Know this Isn’t the Best Time Alejandro, but I need to go Rest in my Own Cot, all this Stress isn’t Good for my unborn baby.” Malia Said, her Eyes Flickering with Exhaustion from both working to Save Alisha’s Life as well as Carrying the Baby while Doing it.

“We Understand, Amigo.” Rudy said.

“Yeah Just Keep me Updated About her State, Thank you So Much for Bringing me and Chris Home.” Malia Said, She was Aware Chris did Some Bad Things But all in fear of His Sister and her Family.

“Chris Bradford lived here as well?” Talia Asked, Shoving her Hands into her Empty Pockets, Malia Nodded, “Apparently So, me and Kory just Don’t remember him, and he Says Alisha Saved his life when he was a Civilian and Injured in Los Almas, the Mission to locate Hassan When Kayla was Supposedly Hiding him?" Malia Prompted, Alejandro Nodded, A glint in his Soft Brown Eyes Upon Remembering that mission.

“Yeah, I Remember that one Hermosa, we had a Few Civilian Casualties and injuries, Alisha wanted to go help the injured while the rest of us looked for Hassan and Kayla.” Alejandro Said, Malia Nodded.

“She Took Chris Back to a Safehouse in Los Almas, Nursed him back to health and Sent him off, this was after I was Taken, Kayla Found Him Shortly After, and took his Sister and her Family Hostage to Control him.” Malia Told them.

Talia Shook her Head, “Well during his Trial the judge might just give Chris a Plea Bargain Due to the Circumstances.” She Mentioned.

“Listen Alejandro I hope the Best for You and Alisha, Call me When She wakes Up.” Malia Said Lesbian.

“Of Course, Hermosa.” Alejandro Said as She left.

Now they all just Had to wait, it was all up to Alisha Now.

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