Agent Whiskey / Jack Daniels - Kingsman: The Golden Circle
One-Shots
"Petals" (Jack Daniels x F!OC)
"Something Sweet" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Departure" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"After Hours" (Jack Daniels x GN!Reader)
"Fright" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Swing" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"The Perfect Fit" -(Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"A Preposterous Thing" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Homeward Bound" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Restless" (young! Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"The Lodger" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Dessert" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Chasing The Sun" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Afternoon Intrusions" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"A Lesson Learned" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Closing Time" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Bound" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
"Disciplinary" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader)
Multi-Chapter/ Series
"Jack-mas Christmas Drabbles" (Jack Daniels x AFAB/ F!Reader) COMPLETED
"Fallout" (Jack Daniels x F!Reader) ONGOING
Crossovers
"Three's A Crowd" -(Jack Daniels x Joel Miller x F!Reader)
"Breaking the Barrier" (Jack Daniels x Joel Miller x F!Reader)
Ginger Ale - Kingsman: The Golden Circle
"Paint The Town Red" (Ginger Ale x F!Reader)
~~ Artwork incoming ~~
Harry Hart - Kingsman: The Secret Service | Kingsman: The Golden Circle
"Ricochet" (Harry Hart x F!Reader)
Check out my main masterlist here, and my A03 for more ♥
September 27th, 2016. The morning the world would remember.
This is a long one, I warn you. TW for violence and everything you'd expect in a apocalypse.
The night was clear in Houston on September 25th, there was a full moon and a few stars could be seen shining through the light pollution. Despite the sirens of police cars, ambulances, and the chatter of people it could be considered peaceful. As peaceful as a hostage situation involving a terrorist named Hassan, who happens to have an active missile, could be.
A gentle breeze passed Ghost as he prepared to speak into his radio. It was a warm night, not too hot to be sweltering in all his gear though. The temperature was comfortable, even the air felt clearer on the rooftop he was stationed upon as he took a deep breath. He'd just taken the shot on Hassan and prevented him from throwing Soap out the window to his death.
“All stations - Hassan’s down. Enemy KIA .”
Ghost releases the button, ending his transmission and looks out towards the city. He could hear the amount of sirens increasing as time passed but couldn't understand why. It was as if something was happening all across the city. He assumed they were reinforcing the barricades around the building Hassan was hiding out in but couldn't be sure.
He shrugged and looked back towards the building where Hassan’s body now lay. They were able to stop the missile from launching, potentially saving thousands, and with Hassan's death the mission was finally over.
On to the next.
Ghost thought as he lowered his rifle and prepared to leave the rooftop. Knowing this mission will be just another chapter in his life with the military.
“Officials are saying a power surge is to blame for an explosion over downtown Houston last night due to severe winds leaving thousands of residents in the dark. Electricity is expected to be restored by this evening.”
“In other news there has been a massive surge of people being admitted to local hospitals due to…”
Ghost turned his eyes away from the screen and looked down, no longer interested in what was being said, the reporter's voice fading as he turned his attention to the newspaper in front of him.
‘CRAZED WOMAN KILLED HUSBAND AND 3 OTHERS’
They should have left the city by now, be preparing for the next mission, it was all Ghost knew. He hated being idle.
The waiting. It drove him mad.
The flight he and the rest of the 141 had been delayed in the early hours of the 26th upon further notice. With the sudden spike in cases regarding this mysterious infection across south America, they are being told to stay put by officials. They want to make sure no one on the team has symptoms. ‘It's too dangerous right now’, they said. They have to ‘wait until the city is more stable’, they said.
Bollocks.
Now he was sitting in a bar on the outskirts of the city, sipping his whiskey while waiting for Price. He'd been working around the clock all night and morning with officials to get leave to fly.
Ghost knew in his gut that it was only going to get worse, and the constant delays were making him nervous, that combined with the heightened military presence. The longer they stayed in the city, the more at risk they were of becoming trapped here. He knows there is more going on than what is being reported, and the higher ups preventing their departure tells him that.
While Ghost was still deep in thought as Price walked in with a smile on his face, sitting down next to Gaz at the bar with a slip of paper.
“I've done it lads, finally got the go ahead to fly. Tomorrow, 5.45am sharp.” Price says, sliding the confirmation letter to Gaz and Soap.
“About fucking time, thought they were sending us on an involuntary vacation.” Soap scoffs, picking up the paper and looking at it before handing it to Ghost.
Finally broken from his thoughts, Ghost side eyes his team as he takes the paper to give it closer inspection. He looks back at the screen, observing the reporter now talking about sports and has a disturbing feeling that they won't be making that flight. However, he quickly brushes off the thought and decides to be practical.
“Where we off to next then?” Ghost asks after a while, turning his gaze away from the screen and onto Price.
“Flights taking us to DC. Laswell will be waiting for us there. She has some information regarding Shepard and the Shadows. There's…something else, but she said it was best told in person.” Price states, taking a sip of the whiskey he ordered.
“Hopefully this sickness going around will be sorted by the time we get to DC.” Gaz says, looking worriedly at the newspaper on the bar.
“I'm sure it'll be fine son, probably some daft kids gotten into a new type of drug and gone crazy. All these delays have been a pain in my ass. They made me work for this piece of paper. When have we ever been denied a flight.” Price jokes, taking back the paper and waving it around a little.
Price downs the remainder of his drink and stands up, turning to his team he puts a ten dollar bill on the bar.
“Best not to worry about it, we've got other problems we need to deal with. Go get some rest lads, we need to be gone as soon as that plane’s ready.”
As he leaves, the rest of the group decide to sit at the bar for a couple of hours, talking about the past missions and next mission to track down Shepard. Soap and Ghost crack jokes back and forth as Gaz groans with disapproval. Walking back to their hotel. Ghost watches the influx of police cars and ambulances pass them with increasing suspicion but is distracted when he observes Soap trip a little.
He calls him a lightweight as he strides ahead, leaving Soap stuttering out scottish curses behind him.
The 141 team all settle in for the night, oblivious to what awaits them in the next hours.
Even before he joined the army his instincts alerted him of the tiniest of sounds.
He could sense a disturbance before anyone.
Growing up with a father like his made him learn young to never be caught off guard, even when sleeping. He has lived his life always on edge, the tension in his body never fully leaving. So when a distant scream is heard he's already up and ready to face whatever danger is waiting for him. He glances at the digital clock on his bedside table as he adjusts his skull balaclava and dons his tactical gear. It reads 1.40am.
His phone begins buzzing on the table, picking it up he looks at the caller ID before answering.
“Price? Everyth-”
“Simon! Listen to me, find Soap and get to the front of the hotel. There’s som-” Before Price could finish the phone cuts, loud beeping cutting into the silence, leaving Simon in disbelief.
He never calls me by my name unless…
Fucking hell.
Ghost thinks to himself, checking his handgun and tactical knife before equipping his throwing knives. As he moves towards the door, he gives one final look over his room, not wanting to forget anything. He likely won't be coming back. Once he is satisfied he opens the door, sweeping both sides of the hall cautiously. Proceeding further down the hall towards the room Soap’s staying in. As he moves closer he hears muffled crying coming from one of the rooms at the very end of the hall. Suddenly, he hears banging and the cries turn to screams as the noise gets louder, as if people are fighting inside the room and pauses for a second.
One of the doors on the left swings open and a woman in a nightgown turns towards him. She's covered in blood and makes to run towards him but is stopped as a man runs out and grabs her, biting her ruthlessly on the neck. As she falls to the ground, the man follows, never letting up on the attack. Ghost readies his weapon and aims towards him.
“Oi! Over here! Get off her you wanker!” Ghost shouts, glaring down his sights, thinking the man will back off upon seeing he’s armed.
Just as he gets the words out Soap’s door opens, rubbing his eyes as if he'd just been woken by the noise. The man gives up on the woman and turns his attention to Soap, bearing no mind to the threat he’d just received from Ghost. Uncaring of the gun currently being pointed straight at him. The man is solely focused on Soap.
“Bloody hell..a man is just trying to get some sleep in he- Jesus!” Before Soap can finish his sentence, the man lunges at him snarling with blood pouring from his nose and eyes. Soap attempts to push the attacker away but the man doesn't let up.
“Soap!” Ghost shouts as he takes a shot at the man. Hitting him in the head, killing him instantly. Soap takes a moment to analyse the scene around him, now fully awake.
“You okay, Johnny?” Ghost asks as he moves closer, glancing at the woman on the floor, looking for any signs of life.
“I'm okay Lt. The bloke was stronger than he looks…” Soap jokes, checking himself for any wounds.
“Get your gear, we need to move.” Ghost says whilst looking down at the man he'd just shot, he was skinny looking. Someone Soap should have no problem subduing.
“Rog.” Soap confirms, moving into his room to retrieve his equipment. As he is doing this he notices he left the tv on, it shows a reporter at a nearby location being told to evacuate the area. Not long after an explosion goes off, cutting feed from the news channel.
Ghost feels the shockwave of an explosion, it must have been nearby.
Shit. They need to get a move on.
“You feel that?” Soap asks Ghost, exiting his room.
Ghost is crouched down next to the woman's body, checking her pulse. He stops and stands up, trying not to dwell on the thought that he could have done something more.
If he'd been better…she might be alive.
“Affirmative. We are meeting the Captain and Gaz at the front of the building, you see more of these things you shoot to kill. Got it? This one’s gone. Let's move.” Ghost gestures to the woman's deceased body before moving down the hall towards the stairs with Soap hot on his tail.
As Ghost and Soap made their way to the lobby, they glanced around at the scenes unfolding around them. It could only be described as chaos, people were crying, shouting, making phone calls that wouldn't go through. Trying to make sense of what was happening around them. Ghost looked at one couple arguing about luggage, some opted for leaving it all behind. Their main priority was to leave the city as fast as possible, and in Ghost’s mind he agreed. If the city was able to fall this quickly with there being the military presence he saw, it means the situation is far worse then he could have imagined.
As they got outside they looked around for any sign of their Captain and Gaz, however, all that could be seen were cars driving erratically. People looking lost, confused and distraught. Some were looting and fighting as police cars passed them, not interested in the petty crime going on but instead focused towards whatever was unfolding in the inner city. Suddenly, a black jeep came speeding towards them, screeching to a halt beside them. Price was in the driver's seat and Gaz the seat behind him.
“What you standing around for, get in!” Price shouted, leaning towards the passenger door and opened it.
Ghost jumped into the passenger seat and Soap sat next to Gaz in the back, the radio of the car humming in the background as Price drove off. The people around the hotel became smaller and smaller, Ghost watching them from a side mirror until they faded away from sight completely.
He couldn't help but wonder what would happen to them, he's given a thought to civilians before, he became numb after seeing so many casualties. It shocks him that he's thinking about them now, he thinks it must be because the situation is different. These people aren't caught in the crosshairs of terrorism or war, this is against something else entirely. His attention turns as Gaz speaks up.
“So…have you seen one of them?” He asks lowly, staring down at the seat in front of him.
Ghost looks at him through the rearview mirror, Gaz appears to be more distant than he's ever seen, though always appearing calm and collected. This was a different kind of calm, unevenly so that Ghost wondered if Gaz was fully present at all.
The hell happened before he and Soap reunited with them?
It wasn't the time or place to ask however, they needed to get to safety first.
‘Them.’ He must be referring to whatever attacked Soap and that woman earlier. Before Ghost could answer, Soap replied.
“Them? I was attacked by a civy earlier, acted like some animal…thought he was just some pisshead at first. Ghost shot him.” He leaned over to give Ghost a gentle pat on his shoulder in thanks as Price looked back at him in alarm.
“You were attacked? Are you injured?” He asks hurriedly, trying to keep his attention on the road whilst looking over Soap.
“Nah, just some bruising...So what's wrong with them, I'm guessing there are more to cause all this.” Soap settled back in his seat as he looked outside towards a house on fire. Price looking noticeably more relaxed as he attempted to explain.
“Don't know, some bloody infection causing people to go crazy and attack anything on sight. This one family was found all torn up in their home…Christ.” Price shakes his head, recounting the details he heard on the radio moments before picking Ghost and Soap up from the hotel. There was a grave silence in the car, mulling over the information.
‘Attack on sight?’ Ghost thought, sounds like that film he saw when he was younger. 28 Days later…now that he thinks about it there are some similarities. Are all these people infected with a new type of virus?
“So what's the plan, wait it out until our flight? If we head to the airfield now, what's the likelihood of them taking us to DC?” As Ghost posed the question to Price, he noticed a family alongside a crashed vehicle. Looking distressed, the father waved his arms, signalling for Price to stop. Instead, Price drove around them as he addressed Ghost’s question.
This came as a surprise to Ghost, usually Price was the first to offer aid to civilians, going beyond the line of duty to ensure their safety. Something Ghost often criticised, believing Price’s compassion to be a weakness the team could often not afford. If he was passing a desperate family so easily it could only mean…
“Zero, they have grounded all flights. The last communication I had told me the situation had changed, they want us to sit on our fucking hands while the US military sort it out. Great job they're doing. And it isn't just happening here. East and West coast are dealing with the same shit. They've got military blockades on every highway, no one is leaving this city.” Price stated as he looked back towards the family he'd just passed. Soap was looking at him with frustration whilst rubbing his hand over his head.
“We are the military. This makes no fucking sense.” Soap said in a grumble, bouncing his leg, becoming increasingly irritated.
“None of that matters anymore. We need to find our own way out.” Gaz suddenly uttered, having been quiet throughout most of the conversation. Ghost and Soap turning to look at him, speculating as to what was going on in his head. As Ghost observed him, he felt that Gaz’s words and shift in deminor carried an ominous tone.
This wasn't going to be easy.
“We will, son. We need to get to DC, Laswell is waiting for us there. I was informed that the infection hasn't made it that far.” Price commented as he slowed to a stop behind a string of cars, their tail lights stretching far beyond view.
The group sat and observed the view in front of them, watching what must have been hundreds of cars standing still. People were desperately trying to escape the fate of those that dwelled inside the city. Many were growing impatient, including a man from the car in front, deciding to leave the safety of his vehicle to question the hold up. As he throws his hat on the floor in anger, he fails to notice the approaching danger.
Appearing from the darkness of the left side of the road were two bloodied people, crying out in pain as they ran towards the disturbance. The 141 looked on as one of the infected bit the man standing beside his vehicle. Throwing him to the ground before hitting him repeatedly over the head with his hands. The other infected opted to attack the passenger inside the car, the door being left open. Whoever inside was defenceless, they screamed into the night, hopelessly crying for help.
The team watched on in horror as the infected seemed to tear into the man with brute force, clawing and gnash away as his flesh. Having noticed its new prey, the infected stopped its assault on the man and looked up towards the team. Deciding to attack without a hint of hesitation, it started sprinting towards the 141’s jeep, face twisted into a bloodied snarl.
Without knowing how this sickness spread and with near to no information about, fighting them head on was a bad idea. Ghost decided. They need more intel before engaging with them full force.
“Captain.” Before Ghost could finish his word Price reversed and turned towards a side street, the infected pounded its head into the left back window where Gaz was sitting.
Price sped away from the gory scene with the infected running behind, reaching its hand out in a desperate attempt to reach them. As he navigated down various side roads he was forced to come to a stop. The road was partially blocked by a crashed bus and people pouring out from the small opening. Not wanting to hit anyone, Price waited for an opening, slowly making his way around the bus.
Meanwhile, Ghost was scanning the droves of people emerging past the bus, they appeared to be running away from something. Cautiously looking back every now and again, assessing the area for a danger beyond the bus.
Fucking hell…we drove right into the belly of the beast.
Before Ghost could warn his Captain, they passed the bus and from the corner of his eye he saw a stream of light. He braced himself for impact.
“On your left!” Gaz shouted, giving Price enough time to swerve so the truck hit the back of the jeep, forcing it into a wall and knocking everyone forward with a sudden jolt.
After a couple of seconds, the ringing in Ghost's ears finally stopped as he sat up. Looking around for any hostiles before turning his attention to his team. He could hear some groaning but initially appeared to be fine, probably just recovering from the sudden movement. Smelling the leak of fuel, Ghost looked back and noticed a small fire growing from the truck behind them. Price coughed a few times before addressing his team.
“Everyone out! Out!” He rasped, opening the car door and stumbling out onto the pavement. Gaz follows suit and moves to assist him, hooking his right arm over his shoulder while looking around.
“Keep up, Soap.” Ghost orders as he opens the right door, Soap right behind him. Noticing the groans of an infected, he readies a throwing a knife. He sees one jerk towards him, its movements erratic. He released the blade, hitting it between its eyes and stopping it dead in its tracks.
He goes to retrieve his blade, Soap sticks close, observing the infected closer with a hesitancy. Soap looks at it like he's worried it will jump up and resume its attack, after assessing that it’s no longer a threat he moves to walk closer to the wrecked jeep. Attempting to find a way to reach Price and Gaz. Suddenly Ghost reaches out with an arm to stop him, Soap looks at him in confusion when the jeep and truck burst into flames, effectively cutting them off from the two standing on the other side.
Ghost lowered his arm looking down the street at the people running, he knows he and Soap can’t wait around much longer. They don't have the equipment to deal with a threat on this scale and can't see a way to reach their teammates.
They are going to need to run.
He turns to address Soap when he hears Price call out to them over the blazing fire.
“Ghost! Soap! Get to Westbury, it's a small neighbourhood outside the city, we will find you there! Move! Move!” Price’s voice fades, indicating the two were moving away from the jeep, leaving Ghost and Soap to continue without them.
Through the crackling of fire Ghost could hear the wails of the infected getting closer, he knew they couldn't stand idle any longer. He moved to get Soap’s attention, with a determined glint in his eye. He and Johnny were going to escape this shit hole, find Gaz and Price or die trying.
“We stick together Johnny, cut through some alleyways to avoid the larger groups. Don't fire that gun unless you're backed into a corner. Can't be drawing more of them to our position.” Ghost firmly states taking out his combat knife and gun.
“Roger that Lt.” Soap says, matching Ghost’s action with a serious look on his face.
Ghost nods once before turning away from the burning cars and runs ahead, following the crowd of people desperately fighting for their lives. Soap is close behind, letting Ghost take point and focuses on watching their backs. As they run down the street, buildings are on fire, cars are out of control and people are being attacked as they flee from nearby buildings. It seems as though the world has burst into flames in the span of a couple of hours.
Eventually they reach the end of the street only to be cut off by a large crowd of infected approaching from the left and the right. People are screaming and crying from all directions as they try to make sense of what is going on around them. Ghost backtracks and notices a small alley with a fence, it can hold them off for a while.
Buy them some time at least.
“Shite…these things everywhere.” Soap remarks as Ghost opens the fence, they both enter the dimly lit alley, scanning for infected. Ghost closes the gate and presses forward.
“Stay sharp, these fences won’t hold them for long. Catch your breath and get ready to run.” Ghost says in a low tone, noticing a lone infected feasting on a corpse.
He holds up his hand, signalling for Soap to stop and readies one of his throwing knives. Whilst the infected is distracted he aims and watches the blade reach its mark, killing it. He motions for Soap to follow quietly, as they pass the two bodies they notice more infected on the other side of the fence. Moving slowly and quietly, they are able to pass without alerting any of them to their presence.
After moving past the view of the nearby infected, Ghost and Soap come across a small bar, seemingly quiet from the outside. Ghost cautiously opens the door whilst Soap watches the alley they'd just passed. It appears empty but Ghost never lets his guard down, checking every corner as he walks forward.
Soap moves silently behind, gazing at the untouched bottles of liquor on the shelves and abandoned drinks littering the bar. The place appears to be a time capsule, untouched by the destruction going on outside.
“A whole bar to ourselves. What do you think, Lt. Shall we throw a party?” Soap jokes
“I'll be sure to invite the local infected, wouldn't want them feeling left out.” Ghost says dryly, appearing bored but secretly appreciating the small banter.
They pause near the exit door as Ghost once again addresses Soap.
“Another trek, once we are far enough away we can pick off any stragglers. Then we find a vehicle and make for the rendezvous.” Ghost relates his plan to soap.
“What if there's a hundred of them out there?” Soap asks lightly, trying to defuse the seriousness of the situation.
“We carve a path through them.” Ghost simply utters, as if it's the most obvious answer. Soap smirks at him before replying.
“You really are out your mind, ey Lt.” Soap rolls his eyes, expecting Ghost to say something along those lines.
“Thought we've been over this MacTravish. Now enough chatter, stay focused.” Ghost cuts the conversation as he opens the door.
As they cautiously make their way over to a broken wall with yellow tape blowing in the wind, Ghost takes in the false peace that appears before him. For the first time since everything started the world looks normal. There doesn't appear to be any infected and the noise from the chaos seems more dull…distant, he's able to take in the breeze and the night sky once again. It feels like a trap, he can't help but tense up, as the small reprieve feels unnatural.
His instincts soon prove him right as he watches a young man jump the wall with more infected following close behind. Deciding not to wait around, Ghost and Soap make a run towards the broken wall and down a slope where a turned over ambulance lay. From the broken vehicle an infected man wearing hospital scrubs crawls out to pursue them. With them being far enough away from the city and only a few infected following. Ghost makes a choice.
“Once we reach the top of this hill, we engage the hostiles! Copy?!” Ghost shouts back towards Soap.
“Copy, Lt!” Soap replies, clutching his handgun.
As they make it to the top, they turn with their weapons raised towards the approaching infected. However, just before they shoot another gun goes off. Mowing down the infected as Ghost and Soap hit the ground to avoid the bullets, when it's over they resume their defensive position. Turning back towards whoever fired the gun, a man in military garb and a gas mask looks them over, keeping his gun trained on them.
“Stop right there!” The stranger shouts, looking tense and keeping a firm grip on his weapon.
Ghost and Soap take note of this, Soap opting to appear friendly to the man raises his hands and tries to negotiate. While Ghost carefully re adjusts his grip on his handgun, ready to act in case things go south.
“Easy pal, we've had one hell of a night so if you could just take us to your Cap-” Before Soap could finish the stranger shouts again.
“I said stop!” Soap stops walking towards him and glances at Ghost whilst the stranger goes to talk into his radio.
“I got two civilians in the outer perimeter. Please advise.” As the stranger finished talking, Ghost went to correct him. Ghost realised that to him, they must appear as the typical civilian. He and Soap were dressed casually, not wearing the typical military fatigues often seen.
“Were military mate, just like you.” Ghost levelled him with a stare, observing as the man appeared to deflate a little upon receiving a response though his comms. He seemed reluctant as he went to speak again.
“Sir, they say they're military…but…yes, sir.” The stranger paused for a second, looking at the ground before resetting his gun sights onto Ghost and Soap.
“You've got to be taking the piss. You don't want to do this, lad.” Soap looks at the man with a scowl.
The man is hesitant, though he has no idea if they are with the military, he seems reluctant to follow through on the order that has been given. Ghost decides he needs to act quickly, he's not about to take any chances, not when they are so close. The stranger mulls over his orders whilst keeping his sight on Soap. Failing to notice the wraith standing off to the side. Ghost takes the chance whilst he's distracted and raises his handgun, firing once at the man.
He falls backwards onto the ground dead as Ghost and Soap move to stand over his body, they are both silent for a couple of seconds. Soap then bends down to pick up the rifle and any remaining ammo whilst Ghost withdraws into his thoughts. Checking it over, looking around to make sure the area was clear of enemies. For the first time all night, they were fully alone.
For the time being.
Ghost looked down at the poor sod laying in the dirt, blood starting to pool out from his wound. He didn’t want to kill the bloke but he knew the longer he let him contemplate his orders, the more obvious the outcome would be. From the military's point of view, they need to stop the spread of infection, no matter the cost. The cost being him and Soap lying in a pool of their own blood, along with anyone else caught trying to leave the perimeter they've set up.
No exceptions.
He thinks about Price and Gaz.
Did they make it out? Are they still among the burning buildings of the outer city?
However, he can no longer ruminate in his thoughts as he hears the rumbling of a plane in the distance. He and Soap identify the location of the object making the sound and watch the aircraft fly lower and lower before plummeting into the ground. A ball of fire and smoke stretching out into the night sky, a reddish glow creeping from the crash site.
“So, that's why they grounded all flights.” Soap commented, watching the smoke billowing from the plane.
Ghost watched on, for the first time in a long time. He thought about the future, something he'd never done since before the murder of his family. Since their deaths he'd run on autopilot, living for the moment. Waiting for the next mission.
What was his mission now?
The world had changed in the blink of an eye and Ghost wasn't sure if it would ever recover from whatever was making all these people sick. He wasn't sure the rules that made the world make sense, civilised, even applied anymore. It was as if he'd been dropped into an unfamiliar environment where only madness and mayhem existed. However, Ghost was good at adapting, it's what he trained for. He looked towards Soap, he decided something.
He and Soap were going to survive this fucked up world and find the rest of his team.
(Aaaand begin opening credits, its long but I wanted to get the setup right. The next will be more interesting as the reader is introduced. I hope people like this, and the characters aren't too ooc. They are a lot harder to write than expected. I won't be posting anymore chapters on here bc it will be a long series, I should get my A03 account soon so everything will be on there. I'll keep everyone updated. Please interact if you like this so im not thinking im delusion for writing it, my brain is still telling me no one wants this rip. Anyway, enough rambling bye!)
I can't stop thinking about this crossover and it's driving me nuts.
Imagine being captured by Negan's group while on the hunt for the woman who killed your gf's dad.
This dude would not stop making sex jokes at you,and your girlfriend HATES it.
The two of you somehow manage to escape after a while of being held captive, but now not only are you hunting her father's killer,but you're also being hunted by Negan's people.
I love my brain sometimes.
If I think of this hard enough I might make it an image, either this,or Ellie being a Savior and capturing Reader while she's out scavenging.
It's pretty fucking noticeable I'm a huge fan of tlou and twd.
Genre: slice of life, smut, romance, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to lovers, TLOU AU, minors dni
Summary: Javier, a former member of the Federal Disaster Response Agency in Kansas City, is haunted by the guilt and violence he indirectly caused by not taking action when he should have. After fleeing Kansas City in the aftermath of Kathleen's violent overthrow of FEDRA, you and Javier seek refuge in an abandoned train in the middle of a forest.
As you and Javier turn the train into a living space and learn to navigate the dangers of a post-apocalyptic world, you gradually overcome your differences and form an unlikely bond. But when your pasts catch up with you, you must confront the demons that haunt you and make a choice that could mean the difference between life and death. Will you choose to protect each other and find a way to build a new life together, or will the ghosts of your pasts tear you apart?
word count: 4.3k
chapter summary: new dynamics, new outlooks. the story comes to an end.
warnings: cock worship, oral (male receiving), ass play, anal sex, spit as lube, dirty talking
a/n: this is the last chapter of this series but there will be an epilogue coming very very soon. thank you to everyone who joined me on this journey and I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it xx
Railhead - The end of a railroad line where trains can be loaded and unloaded, often in a remote location.
You’re proud, to say the least. Looking back at the train, your chest swells with indescribable emotion. The outside might look rusty and dusty—something Javier was adamant about so no one would want to come take a closer look—but the inside was where your efforts truly shined. Through the windows, you catch a glimpse of the plants you potted in old cans you cut into two and one semi-intact clay pot. A fence surrounds the train, booby-trapped just in case someone lurks nearby.
Javier comes out and stands next to you, he’s chewing on a long-stemmed dandelion. His signature aviators nestled above his head.
“We fucking did it. An actual living place,” his shoulders raise slightly, the corner of his lips twitching into a smile. “I can’t believe we actually did it without killing each other.”
You roll your eyes and come to stand in front of him. His eyes drop to your lips, then smoothly travel back up to meet your gaze. You smile playfully as you quickly pluck the dandelion from his lips, closing the distance, you slant your lips together. As always, he’s hungry. He cups your waist and pulls you flush against his body, slipping his tongue between your wanting lips. You groan loudly, your stomach doing somersaults as he tilts his head and deepens the kiss. Every part of you is humming with delight.
But then Javier suddenly parts, and you’re left aching.
“Hey—”
“I got a surprise for you.”
You blink before answering, “A surprise?”
“Si,” he chirps quickly, brown eyes shining. He holds your hand and pulls you towards the entrance of the train. “Follow me, querida. I’m sure you’re going to appreciate it.”
“Hmmm we’ll see.” Javier sits you on the tattered couch and disappears into the makeshift bedroom—your shared bedroom. “How did you even manage to get me something?” you call out. “We literally go everywhere together.”
“I have my ways.” then he adds. “It’s handmade.”
Handmade?
He appears from the narrow threshold, he’s holding a small box, “Here,” he says, placing it on your lap. “Maybe you’ll complain less thanks to this.”
“Charming as always.”
You carefully lift the lid, a pair of intricately crafted insoles catches your eye. Javier watches you intently, his full attention making your heart stutter. The insoles, are fashioned from what seems to be a combination of salvaged leather and repurposed fabric.
“I—Insoles?” you gasp, tears prick the corner of your eyes. You lift your gaze and your brows furrow as you meet his. “I don’t remember mentioning I had shitty insoles.”
“You didn’t have to.”
The edges are neatly stitched with a weathered thread, showcasing the craftsmanship that went into it. You notice the tiny details, like irregular patterns and faded hues, hint at a past life.
Javier grins, leaning in as you inspect your gift. "I found an old leather jacket and some sturdy fabric in one of the abandoned buildings. Thought it might make your life a bit comfier. And hopefully—it’ll make my ears hurt less."
“Don’t ruin the moment, Javi.”
“I don’t want you crying. I can’t handle you crying.”
“Aw, big scary Fedra soldier afraid of some happy tears?”
“Didn’t say I was afraid,” his lips touch your forehead, you lean into the heat of them as he takes a seat next to you. “I just don’t enjoy being the person who put them there.”
“You do know what happy means right?”
He waves a hand, “Tears are tears, perla. I’d rather see you smile and laugh.”
Looking back down, you run your fingers over the textured surface. It’s soft, resilient. The insoles seem to mold to the contours of your hands, promising a snug fit when placed inside your old boots. The scent of worn leather and a hint of dust lingers.
"Try them on," Javier urges, his eyes gleaming with eagerness. He nudges you slightly with his shoulder.
“Alright alright. Just give me a second.”
You slip the handmade insoles into your shoes, a surprisingly pleasant sensation envelops your feet. You sigh pleasantly and your eyelids flutter.
“That good, huh?”
“Oh, shut up.”
Javier watches your reaction closely, "So, what do you think?"
"Handmade indeed," you muse, a soft smile breaking across your face. "You always find a way to make things special," quickly, you lean in, your kiss taking him by surprise. “Thank you, Javier.”
He holds you by the hip, hands gradually moving lower to your backside. A shudder runs up your spine, your breathing becoming short-paced.
“Say my name again.”
“Javier,” you repeat, a bit more breathily this time. He stands up, the sudden movement making your head spin. He’s not touching you anymore. Instead, he’s just staring at you, his eyes like charcoal.
“Again.”
“Javier.”
His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, he pushes you towards him, close enough that you feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. You inhale sharply.
“Where do you want me to fuck you?” he asks. “The couch or the bed?”
“B—Bed,” you stutter. When he clicks his tongue with disapproval, you say, “I want you to fuck me on the bed, Javier.”
“That’s my good little troublemaker. My sweet thorn.” Before releasing you, he keeps you still, his fingers digging into your neck. “Before I fuck you,” he groans. “I want you to suck my cock, baby. I want you to get it nice and wet, want you to fucking worship it. Understood?”
You nod in a daze. Javier smiles, a bit of softness showing in his irises. His hand dropping from your neck, he kneads the plump flesh of your ass. “Then I’m going to worship this gorgeous ass. Does that sound fair to you?”
You swallow thickly, not sure what to say when your head is swimming in deep arousal.
“Yes,” you whimper. “That sounds fair.”
The way to the ‘bedroom’ is a blur of quick kisses and rapid stripping; some part of you doesn’t want to remove your boots, you want to continue to appreciate the insoles he made for you, but sadly, you end up kicking them off.
“Lay down,” you say, taking back some of the control. While Javier pulls down his pants, you suck the skin above his collarbone, tracing the bone underneath with your tongue. A soft whimper reverberates in his throat, dragging your lips up, you kiss his bobbing Adam’s apple. “I haven’t even begun worshipping your cock and you’re already a mess?” You palm his erection, grinning at the way it twitches in your palm. “Are you going to come as soon as I wrap my lips around you, Javier?”
He grunts and grips your wrist, “Don’t start a war you can’t finish.”
You know the words are meant to be a lighthearted tease, but they affect you more than you anticipate. You look down at his scar, almost ashamed at the cruel past that ended up binding you two together.
He must’ve felt it because he lifts your chin, forcing your gaze back to him, “We’re not in a battle anymore,” he reminds you. “There are no wars. And even if there were any, I have no intention of joining when I’m desperately in love with you.”
Love.
He’s in love?
With you?
“I want to witness the beauty the world still has to offer. . . with you.”
Your eyes go wide, your pulse skyrocketing in your veins. Your chest heaves. Love. A feeling so foreign that you thought you’d never be on the receiving end. Love. An emotion so complex that sometimes it felt you were the only one capable of it. Love. The emotion Javier feels for you.
Love. The emotion you feel for Javier.
You don’t say it—mostly because you’ll get choked up if you do—but you do kiss him with every bit of emotion you feel towards him. You breathe him in. Inhale him. You feel his lashes on your skin as he closes his eyes, feel the thud of his heart against your own chest.
Love.
What an amazing thing it was.
And a cruel thing you were only able to find after the world ended.
“Get on the bed,” you say, softer this time. Javier complies, the bed creaking in protest at his weight. You strip down completely. Your underwear and bra left on the floor. You want to be bare. You want to be safe. And you are safe, with him you’ll always be.
“I love this pretty cock,” you mutter, kissing the side. The muscle in Javier’s jaw tenses, his teeth coming together. You lick up to the tip and wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the ridge. Before he can get comfortable, you drag your lips back down, following the vein that throbs violently under your soft flesh, you take one of his testicles into your mouth. You suck on it slowly and release it, blowing a bit of air over the spit-slicked skin.
“Fuck,” he growls, hips jerking. “Fuck fuck fuck—That’s it baby, that’s it. . . Shit—”
Javier’s head falls back, his dark locks a mess above the white-ish pillowcase. You dip your tongue between the crease of them and flattening your tongue, you lick the underside of his cock. His breath comes in short, fast pants. You take him into your mouth, sucking him halfway until the tip touches the back of your throat. You feel your nipples tightening, your pussy soaked from pleasuring him. Javier cradles the back of your head for dear life, thrusting into your mouth with shallow thrusts. You let him. You’d let him ruin you, you’d let him tear you apart and stick you together again.
A series of moans and groans drop from his lips. Saliva trickles down his length, going down his thighs. Moaning around him, you grip the meat of his legs and push yourself down. He sinks into your throat desperately, his breath hitching when your throat convulses around him.
“Fuck,” he breathes, pushing you off his cock. “I don’t want to come yet but your mouth is too damn tempting.” You look up to him with a grin, he reaches towards you, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “Next time I’ll fuck this pretty mouth so well you won’t be smiling about it.”
“I’ll hold you up to that, you know.”
“Good.”
Javier pulls the pillow under you while he guides you to all fours. Suddenly you’re feeling too exposed with your ass in the air. You chew the inside of your cheek and look down at the sheets. He flattens his palm above your spine, his hand moving all the way down, he stands on his knees right behind you, his cock wet and heavy above the swell of your ass.
“Just say the word and we’ll stop.”
“No, I. . . I want it, I’m just nervous because I’ve never actually. . .” you trail off, your cheeks flaring at the thought of speaking openly—which is hilarious when you think about it because this man has literally seen the worst of you. “I’ll tell you if I need to stop. Promise.”
Javier seems satisfied by your answer and playfully slaps your ass. You imagine him smiling, stoked to have you in a way that no one else has. He parts your cheeks, you hear the sound of his mouth as a string of saliva drips right onto your hole, Javier hums, and with a thumb, he smears it over. Your breath hitches. He hasn’t even done much, yet you’re already dizzy with the vicious way your heart beats in your chest.
Javier spits again, a pleasurable shudder crawls up your spine. Your nipples tighten. Goosebumps rising across your skin. He slowly pushes in a finger, he stops shortly after, examining the way your back tenses at the pressure. With his other hand, he caresses your spine. It’s soothing and you relax into his touch.
“Wish we had lube,” he murmurs. You hear the rustle of sheets as he moves. “But hopefully this’ll be enough to loosen you up, querida.”
His lips are nothing short of sin. You groan at the touch of his tongue, the velvet muscle swirling around you. He groans at your taste, pulls you closer by gripping your waist. You go willingly. Gathering spit in his mouth, he pushes, your body jolts as he wiggles his tongue inside.
His hand moves down to your clit, rubbing slow circles over the swollen nub. You feel your arousal growing, your body responding to his touch. You moan and squirm, unable to control yourself. It’s too much but also not enough all at the same time. He kisses where he’s been fucking you with his tongue and presses the same finger inside. This time it slides in with ease but he stops half-knuckle deep.
Your body tenses when he swipes over your clit again.
“How are you feeling?” he asks, mouth moving over the plump flesh of your ass.
"Amazing," you gasp, your body tingling with pleasure.
He moves his hand away from your clit and you whimper at the loss of his touch. But before you can protest, you feel him pulling out. Slightly turning, you see him licking his fingers, getting them wet. His hair is a mess, his beard thicker now that time has passed. Your heart swells and your lashes flutter. A beat later, your eyes meet. Javier makes a show up sucking his fingers, smiling around them.
“Are you enjoying the show?” he asks, pressing both fingers against your hole.
Instead of words, a choked-out sound drops from your lips. Your head falls back, your body arching as he pushes them deep.
"Relax, mi amor," he says, his voice gentle and reassuring. You wince at the stretch, but his spit makes it easier, and soon his fingers are sliding in and out of you, stretching you open.
Javier leans over you, his body covering yours. You feel his hard length against your back, and you know that he's just as turned on as you are. His fingers begin to move faster, scissoring and curling inside of you. He moans with you, precome dripping down your back and onto the sheets. Your body begs for more and more and more—
"Please," you gasp, meeting the thrust of his fingers. "I need you inside me, Javier."
“How can I ever say no when you beg so sweetly,” he rasps, chest heaving. “Mi dulce perla.”
He pulls his fingers out of you and you feel a sudden emptiness. But it's quickly replaced as he lines himself up with you and slowly begins to push into you. You gasp as he stretches you wide, he stops mid-thrust, waiting for you to adjust. Slack-jawed, you feel sweat beading at your temple. Javier finds your clit again, playing with it until you’re a soaking mess over his fingers, your body squeezing him tight. A loud groan trembles within his chest and he rocks forward, his cock filling you completely.
“Fuck, you feel amazing,” he says, voice hoarse. “I could go on like this all day long—until the day I die.”
You want to quip back at him, maybe mention that there’s no way he can go that long, but you lack the ability to form sentences. An elongated groan slips past your lips instead and you swear he smiles, without even looking you can sense the mischievous smile curling at his pretty, plush lips.
Javier starts thrusting into you, slowly at first and then building up speed. His hands caress your body, over your back, and down your hips. You can hear the sound of his lower abdomen slapping against your ass, along with both your moans filling the air. His cock hits all the right spots inside of you, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You grip the sheets, desperate for something to hold onto as he hammers into you, the wet sounds growing and growing with every move.
You feel a sudden intensity building within you, rising higher and higher with each thrust of Javier’s hips. He lets out a low growl, his grip on your hips tightening as he pounds into you harder. You can’t help but moan loudly You’re feeling overwhelmed but in the best way possible.
Javier leans down and whispers into your ear, “You look so fucking sexy like this, taking my cock in your ass. You enjoy it don’t you—my sweet filthy girl.”
His words, along with his cock pounding into your tight hole, send you over the edge and you come with a loud cry, your entire body trembling. Your clit throbs as your cunt squeezes around nothing, pulsing viciously as your orgasm is ripped away. You clench around him and Javier’s movements become erratic. Suddenly, he stills, his body tensing as he reaches his peak. You feel him release inside of you, filling you up as he continues to thrust into you, prolonging his orgasm. Your eyes roll and your lids flutter, your own release washing over you as you come undone with him. He stays buried inside, both of you panting and catching your breath, until he finally pulls out.
Javier collapses onto your back, his chest heaving as he catches his breath. You both lie there for a few moments, basking in the aftermath. He eventually pulls out of you and you move to lay on your side, feeling his spent trickling down the back of your thighs, you face each other.
He strokes your cheek gently, looking into your eyes with a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. “You were amazing, mi vida,” he says, still trying to catch his breath.
You smile back at him, “So were you,” you reply, running your fingers through his hair. “Though sadly, I don’t think we can do that again for a while. I’m going to be feeling it for days.”
Just as he opens his lips, a sudden chill settles over your sweat-slicked body and his eyes drop down to your naked body with worry. “Are you cold?”
“A bit,” you admit unwillingly. You slightly stir, attempting to reach for the blanket. “Winter is finally coming, huh?”
Javier leans in and kisses you softly, his lips moving against yours in a slow, loving dance. You feel a warmth spread through your body, then you feel it on the outside as he reaches down, grabbing the blanket for you.
“It is.”
“Is there a reason we’re outside in the middle of the night?” you grumble, hugging yourself, you follow Javier’s footsteps. “It’s fucking freezing.”
The crisp night clings to your skin, freezing everywhere it touches. You miss the heat of your shared bed, the heat of another body against yours. With narrowed eyes, you glare at the man who is not slowing his steps. Javier takes your hand into his own, forcing you to move faster. He’s been secretive ever since he woke you—and it was definitely not pleasurable to be waken up in the middle of the night, especially in this day and age.
“Javierrrrr,” you whine, throwing your head back. “It’s cold. . .”
“You’ll thank me, I promise.”
“Fine. I trust you,” you chew on your bottom lip and smile. “But mainly because you made me new insoles.”
He turns to you, eyes round and simply adorable, “Are they keeping you warm?”
“They are.”
The two of you continue your journey through the night, and as you walk, Javier's hand remains firmly clasped around yours. The crunch of leaves beneath your feet echoes in the quiet darkness, a lullaby that once again makes you wish you were in bed instead.
After what feels like an eternity, Javier leads you to a small clearing. Your eyes go wide when you notice the soft silver beams cascading onto the patch of ground underneath The air is still, and the world seems to hold its breath, the only sound being the faint rustle of leaves.
Your breath catches as you step into the open space, your hand slipping away from Javier’s. A field of flowers had bloomed in various shades, their slender stems standing proud. The delicate petals reflect the silvery light. They remind you of stars, their petals pointed instead of round like you’re accustomed to.
A gasp escapes your lips, and a radiant smile spreads across your face. Your head snaps to Javier, "What are these?" you ask.
Javier's gaze shifts from the flowers to you, and in that moment, the world fades away.
“I have no idea what they are,” he answers, finger moving over his bottom lip. “But they only bloom at night.”
Your heart swells, “They’re beautiful. Thank you”
He steps closer, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your cheek. "Don’t mention it,” he brushes your lips together, the warmth of his breath making your melt into the earth. “Besides, they’re pale compared to you.”
“No need to charm me further,” you grin. “You already have me.”
“Do I now?”
“You do.”
As you share a tender kiss, the first snowflake falls. Then another. The world quiets down, and as you pull away, you notice the first snowflakes gently falling around you. Breaking away you both look at each other, then up to the sky.
It's here – winter has finally arrived.
Surprisingly, despite the cold, you've never felt warmer. In that simple kiss and under the falling snow, there's a magic that makes everything feel just right.
The day was warm, the sun bright. Small petals flew further away from the green grass, colorful flowers moving left and right with the soft caress of the wind. The grass tickled your bare ankles. You felt lucky to have found some regular shoes. If not you would have to wear your boots that made your feet feel like it was in a sauna. The lovely weather felt like a joke. It wasn’t the reality you lived in, just a mirage of the life before—though even then, it wasn’t quite perfect was it?
Your grip tightened around the straps of your bag. If you listened close enough you could hear the clatter of all the guns you were meant to smuggle in. The FEDRA was cruel in Kansas City. It was like the boogeyman stories but real.
You took a deep breath, your eyes scanning your surroundings one last time. It was like a spitting image of a Van Gogh painting. The world was still alive. It wasn’t infected, it didn’t know about the monsters that lurked on the surface.
Turning around, you continued to walk uphill, your chest starting to ache from both the heat and the constant walking.
Then you saw him.
A FEDRA soldier.
Your eyes momentarily went wide. He wasn’t looking at you, He was fidgeting, constantly looking around as if he was waiting for someone. Worry made a home in your gut. You didn’t think you had the strength in you to fight anyone off today. You just wanted to help the people and get rid of the weight of the guns.
The vest he wore looked like it dug uncomfortably into his chest, his rifle slung over his back, and pistol snug on his hip. You wondered if he would use either one on you—
Your eyes locked on one another.
Your breath halts in your chest, your heart ramming angrily and fearfully against its boney cage.
He raised a sole eyebrow, eyes narrowing. He was assessing you, trying to see how much of a threat you were.
“Who are you?” he asked and pulled out a cigarette pack from his back pocket. “You’ll get hurt if you wander around much, hermosa.”
You swallowed, “I—I’m just walking by,” you paid careful attention to make your voice sound meek and frightened. You lifted both your hands in surrender. “Please don’t shoot.”
He lit his cigarette and made no move toward his weapons. You eyed him nervously. FEDRA was not to be trusted.
“That wasn’t my question.”
“I just want a place to stay for the night. I was hoping to take refuge here for the night and leave first thing in the morning.”
The soldier looked through his lashes and he shielded the tiny flame with his hand. When the cigarette finally came to life, he took a deep breath then looked up to the sky.
“I really want to trust you. You have a kind face,” he said, sounding tired. “But your bag is making me doubt you.”
You froze, “Please. You can trust me.”
“And that’s all everyone needs during the end of times isn’t it?” he asked, not really wanting an answer. “Someone they can trust.”
He lowered his gaze, looking back at you, he sighed. His gaze lingered on you for an uncomfortable long amount. Your feet were glued to the soil, heat blossoming all over your skin. He had a kind face too. In another life, you might’ve even fallen for eyes.
The soldier suddenly blinked as if hitten by electricity, something he saw bothered him and you worried he saw right through you. Saw that you were a firefly, that you were carrying a shit ton of weapons. But he didn’t say anything.
“Go.”
“Go?”
He looked away, “Go before I change my mind. I have someone I need to meet anyway.”
So he was waiting for someone. Briefly, you wonder but quickly shrug the thoughts away. You had a mission.
You mumbled a thanks as you walked past him, your arms brushing in the process. As you left, you tried not to think about the electricity that circulated you, about the brown eyes and the tired look in them—
You tried not to fall for the possibility of a happy ending. Tried not to look for him when the chaos ensued, when Kathleen took over.
We are slowly moving towards rock bottom with poor Frankie as he tries to get a handle on his addiction and his own demons.
I'm about to update the warnings for the next chapter. If there's something you're very sure you don't want to read about, please heed them. And if you don't want spoilers, please send me a DM and I'll tell you if you need to worry or not. I am moving towards something very dark and I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea and that's absolutely fine!
Series Master List
Chapter 33- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.9k
Another week passes, and you think maybe Frankie does better although his nightmares are still ever present, he gets moody sometimes and he’s always too tired, but slowly you think, maybe, you see an improvement. At least he stays away from Joel, you know that. He comes with you to the radio office in the morning or goes straight to someone who needs help fixing something, sometimes he goes scavenging for spare parts, or trades for them at the market, but never outside the QZ. When he’s done he comes by the radio, or you meet him and the guys at the bar. Often Tommy joins you, sometimes even Joel. Pope tells you he’s asked Joel if Frankie has tried trading for drugs again and Joel says he hasn’t seen Frankie at all.
It’s been four weeks since Frankie came clean to you all, and the warm spring air seems light to you, even in the QZ. The ever entrepreneurial manager of the bar, Liz, has somehow managed to turn the grimy backyard into a ‘beer garden’ of sorts and now you’re all out there, sprawled in an assortment of patio furniture around a white plastic picnic table.
Will keeps glancing at the door, Diana hasn’t turned up yet and even though she’s not late, you know Will is on edge until she gets here, just like you are before Frankie turns up.
There’s been an increase in Firefly activity and FEDRA is on high alert, meaning random stops and checks in the street were now commonplace. The group you’d first only heard about through the scattering of graffiti throughout the QZ, had started making noise. Suddenly they’d recruited more people, were spreading their demands for a more just rule of the QZ, and almost every alley wall had their ‘slogan’ hastily spray painted across it; 'If you're lost in the dark, look for the light’.
More than once you’d been approached by them, random women mostly, striking up conversations about FEDRA’s unjust methods and harsh control of the QZ. You knew the guys had also been approached, their reputation as men who knew how to handle themselves and any gun placed in their hands, made them prime targets for Firefly recruiters. So far all attempts had been shut down, getting involved in rebellions was something they’d done back in Delta Force and they were done with that.
Will’s eyes flick to the door leading out to the backyard again as it swings open, but this time it’s Frankie. He’d gone inside for a round of drinks and he stumbles across the threshold, nearly spilling the tray of glasses he’s holding.
“Jeez, Fish,” Benny laughs, “How many drinks did you have before I got here?”
“Only one,” Frankie grumbles, carefully watching his steps as he crosses the yard and sets down the tray on the table.
“The old man can’t take his alcohol anymore,” Tommy jokes, the two youngest men of the group chuckling together as Frankie rolls his eyes and hands you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you, his hand drifting to your thigh almost by its own accord.
“You feeling ok?” you ask him in a low voice as Ben and Tommy continue celebrating being the youngest, and he nods, taking a sip of his drink before he gives you a quick smile.
“Yeah, I’m good, just tired, didn’t sleep great last night again,” he answers and you put your hand on top of his, braiding your fingers between his.
“It’ll get better, Frankie,” you soothe him, “you’re doing great.”
Frankie looks at the whiskey swirling around his glass and gives you a weak smile before he takes another sip and looks over at Pope who’s asked Will something. You keep glancing at Frankie when he’s not looking. You know something isn’t right, but you can’t push it, not yet. He’s too tired, too sluggish even though he seems to be doing better. Pope had said it might just be the withdrawal symptoms, and it’s been only two weeks. But you feel blind, you can’t do anything but trust him, if he’s still using, you won’t know until it’s too late. So you scan his face, watch his moves, hoping and praying he’s being honest with you all and that he’s just fighting withdrawal symptoms.
You lean back, taking a sip of your own drink, when from the street a loud explosion suddenly rocks through the air, making you all rush to your feet and turn towards the entrance to the bar. Shouts can be heard from inside and the sound of breaking glass.
“Come on,” Pope says, “we need to get out of here!” He runs to the door, Frankie’s hold on your hand tightens and you follow him and next to you, you hear Will curse loudly.
“Fuck! Diana is on her way here, I’ve got to find her!” He wrenches the door open, everyone inside is on their feet, facing the front door and someone is carefully looking outside. Just as Will crosses the room, heading for it, the door swings open and Diana runs inside, covered in dust, coughing. He’s on her in a split second, carefully cupping her cheeks.
“Honey, please tell me you’re ok! What happened?”
Diana coughs again and nods, “I’m ok, I think, the explosion was pretty far down the street, I just got pushed by the blast.”
Will is running his fingers over her head, scanning her body for any injuries, before he pulls her into a hug.
“Thank fucking god,” you hear him mumble.
“We should get out of here,” Pope says, the bar is emptying now. The other patrons are filtering out through the door, looking down the street before hurrying off. When you’re all out on the street you can hear the rumble of FEDRA trucks approaching and the blaring of their alarms.
“You guys should come over to our place, it's the closest, gonna be a bitch to get home now,” Frankie says.
“I’m gonna head over to my girlfriend,” Tommy says, “she’s just a couple of streets over, gonna make sure she’s ok.” He waves a quick goodbye before he takes off, jogging down a side street.
“C’mon,” Pope starts walking towards your building. You walk fast, getting out of the way of more and more FEDRA soldiers moving in, heavily armed and looking ready to take down anyone they don’t like. You feel relieved when you make it inside, everyone piling into your apartment, it’s bigger than Pope’s. Just as you’re about to step inside, one of your neighbors comes up the stairs.
“Did you hear the explosion?” he asks and you nod.
“Yeah, we were at the bar, do you know what happened?”
“Those damn Fireflies, they blew up a truck! Blew a big hole in the street!” He shakes his head as he starts up the next flight of stairs, “FEDRA’s going to be worse than ever now, mark my words!”
You sink down on the couch in the crowded living room, Frankie sits on the arm rest next to you and you put your arm around his waist, leaning into his side.
“Fucking Fireflies,” Pope grumbles, “I know they’re trying to make things better but what the fuck do they think blowing up trucks will do?”
“FEDRA will crack down even harder now,” Will says, handing Diana a damp washcloth and helping her clean the dust off her face and clothes. “Have they even been successful in other QZ’s?”
Through the radio, and overhearing people’s messages, you knew the Fireflies have spread over most of the US. From almost every QZ came reports of their activities, usually hiding dissent at how FEDRA ran the QZ’s, it was clear that FEDRA wasn’t doing a good job anywhere.
“I haven’t heard anything of them having any major success,” you reply, “at most they manage to disrupt things, and from what little people say, FEDRA cracks down hard on everyone, not just the Fireflies.”
“How does FEDRA respond?” Pope asks and you shake your head, grimacing.
“Not well…extended curfews, harder punishments, even death penalties, harder controls of medicine and food, checkpoints across the QZ, a couple of places even have public executions, I heard they do hangings in Kansas City.”
“Great,” Benny sighs, “It’ll be fucking Arlington all over again if they keep this up.”
“You can’t blame them though,” Eve says, she’s sitting on Benny’s lap, “FEDRA are fucking fascists, the Fireflies want to over throw them and have democratic rule.”
“Yeah, sure, FEDRA are a bunch of fascists, but when has bombing city streets ever helped?” Benny asks and Eve just shrugs.
…
The next day FEDRA trucks drive through the QZ, blaring an announcement from loudspeakers in the truck beds.
“The criminal gang known as The Fireflies is now classified as a terrorist organization. Any citizen found collaborating or participating will be tried and convicted.”
They drive through the QZ all day and before long you feel a headache throbbing behind your eyes as you sit at the radio. There’s less people stopping by today, most are too scared to go out unless they have to.
“Joy came by with a message for her brother,” Sean says as you share lunch in the office. “She said a FEDRA officer told her they are going to execute anyone found to be a Firefly member.”
“That’s terrible,” you say, “FEDRA’s trials are a joke already, now they’re going to execute people based on those?” You shake your head and scrape the last of the thin stew up with your arepa.
“They’ve put up checkpoints everywhere,” Sean sighs, “It feels like this is only the beginning.”
“Not only checkpoints, I was stopped three times in the street by soldiers on my way over here this morning, everyone is a potential terrorist in their eyes now.” .
Your lunch is suddenly disturbed by a door slamming open down the hall and shouts from the few people waiting for your lunch break to be over. Heavy boots come stomping down the hallway and you throw a worried glance at Sean. The door of the office is only half closed but now it’s thrown wide open, slamming against the shelf behind it with a loud crash. Two FEDRA soldiers step inside, their rifles pointed at the floor thankfully, followed by an office and two more soldiers.
“On your feet!” the office barks, “Up against the wall!” You’d already flown to your feet when the door slammed open, now the soldiers advance on you both with their guns raised and you back up against the only window in the room.
“Where are your records of incoming and outgoing messages?” the office asks, his voice rough as he pushes the papers on the radio desk around.
“We-we don’t keep any records.” Sean stutters, “Sir,” he adds.
“Why not? What are you hiding?” the officer, his name tag says Ambrose, barks, “All incoming and outgoing messages must be logged.”
“Only civilians use this radio, there is no rule saying we have to keep logs of their messages.”
“New rule, from now on you have to keep a log of all messages,” the officer sneers, “Check those shelves for contraband, you two, check those boxes.” He directs the soldiers to the shelves and boxes that line the wall and they start rifling through the content. You know they only contain spare parts for the radio, nuts and bolts, a few wires, but the soldiers go through it like they’re expecting to find drugs and weapons, every piece is pulled out and left scattered on the floor.
“Please, be careful with that, they’re spare parts for the radio,” Sean protests as one of the soldiers knocks over a box of equipment.
“Shut up old man, or I’ll toss ‘em out the window,” Officer Ambrose snarls, “you’re lucky we’re letting you keep ‘em to start with.”
“They’re parts for this particular amateur radio model,” you interject, “they won’t work with the more powerful army issue radio FEDRA uses.” Frankie had taught you that when he helped Sean find some of the parts in an old AV shop a few blocks away.
Ambrose looks at you and you see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, “You’re Morales’s wife,” he says, “you and him hang around with the Millers and that other beaner, Garcia.” He looks you up and down, “No wonder you work there then, that’s how they get their information.” You feel your skin run cold, if he’s saying what you think he’s saying, then FEDRA knows about the smuggling.
“She works here because she’s an excellent radio operator and she knows this machine better than even I do!” Sean protests, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.”
“Start keeping those records, old man,” he snarls, still looking at you, “Or we’ll come back and smash the radio and your office to pieces. And just a warning; I catch as much of a whiff of Firefly activity here, you’re both going to the scaffolds.” He barks orders at the soldiers and they step outside, marching behind Ambrose down the hallway. Sean and you are left surveying the mess they’ve left behind, the content of the shelves and boxes scattered across the floor. With a deep sigh you bend down and start putting things back, checking for damage as you go.
It takes you the rest of the afternoon to tidy the office while Sean handles the people still waiting to receive and send messages. He writes down the messages people send, and the ones received, putting all the scraps of paper in a box. If FEDRA wants to read what people talk about, they’ll have to sort through it themselves. Although Sean does raise the suspicion that maybe FEDRA will try to listen in on what the radio receives or broadcasts, it means you’ll both have to be much more careful in the future.
You head back home, feeling rattled by the day’s events, together with the checkpoints and being stopped in the street, FEDRA’s presence in the QZ is starting to feel oppressive. You remember how quickly it escalated in Arlington, praying it won’t come to that.
Frankie hadn’t been past the radio office today, he’d been helping a friend of Sean’s clean out and repair an old open fireplace in exchange for new boots he desperately needed, his old ones falling apart. When you open the door to the apartment you see the new boots neatly placed inside the door and heavy snoring comes from the living room. You look around the corner and smile, Frankie’s on his back on the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other across his chest, mouth agape while he snores, loudly. He’s not usually a heavy snorer but he hasn’t been sleeping well, often waking up tired and groggy. You kneel down next to him and put your hand on his arm, he twitches but keeps snoring, his nose wiggling over his mustache, making you smile. He looks younger and softer than he has in years when he’s sleeping like this, relaxed without nightmares. He must’ve decided to take a nap on the couch after coming home so you leave him sleeping. You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen to start making dinner.
The arepas are waiting to be fried when there’s a knock on the front door. You hear Frankie stir but he doesn’t wake up and you peek out before you open. Pope’s standing outside, a bag of groceries in his hand.
“Hey,” he says as you let him in and take the bag from him. “I brought some of the groceries I got with my ration cards, your cooking is better than mine,” he grins as he toes off his unlaced boots.
“Thanks,” you peer into the bag, spotting some stuff that was definitely not obtainable with ration cards, Pope, Will and Benny had made sure you had more than enough even though Frankie wasn’t smuggling and always seemed to make excuses to fill your pantry. “I’ll cook for you every day if you bring things like this,” you say and pull out a side of pork, something you hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Frankie’s living the good life I see,” Pope chuckles, spotting him, still stretched out on the couch, snoring lightly now.
“He’s not sleeping great at night, he must’ve been really tired,” you look over at him and smile, he mumbles and turns on to his side, back to the room. “I should probably wake him up now though, or he won’t sleep tonight.”
“You get him up then, I’ll put this stuff away,” Pope takes the bag from you and goes to the kitchen while you go over to the couch and kneel down, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and leaning your chin on his shoulder.
“Hey, Frankie boy, time to wake up,” you whisper, running your hand up and down his side and he mumbles incoherently, still firmly asleep. “Frankie, baby, wake up, or Santi’s gonna eat all your dinner,” you tease, shaking him lightly. He must be really tired, usually he wakes up the second you touch him, now he only mutters and rolls over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes.
From the kitchen Santi starts rattling plates around; “C’mon, pendejo, despiértate! I’m fucking starving!” he yells and Frankie finally stirs enough to peel his eyes open.
“Cállate…” he mumbles while he blinks the sleep from his eyes.
“Hey baby, wake up,” you smile, pressing your lips to his scruffy jaw, “you’ve been sleeping for hours I think.” All you get in response is a grumble and you take his hand, pulling him up to sitting. He rubs his hands over his face and blinks a few times again, his eyes are red and he looks pretty out of it still.
“Are you feeling ok, Frankie? You look pretty terrible.”
“Thanks,” he mumbles, giving you a weak smile before he yawns, “I slept like shit last night and I was fucking tired all day but I had to help with that fireplace, got ash fucking everywhere.”
“Your eyes are really red, did you rinse them?” you ask and he nods.
“Yeah, but I only had water, I hope it was clean enough.”
“C’mon, dinner’s served,” Pope calls from the kitchen and you give Frankie a hand up.
“The other’s aren’t here yet,” you say, “Will and Benny are coming over with Diana and Eve.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pope replies, “Will asked me to tell you that FEDRA is putting a new curfew in place, 6 am to 6 pm. It won’t come into effect until tomorrow but they didn’t wanna risk being outside with FEDRA soldiers looking to jump the gun any chance they get.”
“But that means we won’t be able to have dinner together at all!” You sink down in your chair with a grumble, “Fuck FEDRA.”
You start serving the stew, Frankie’s got his head in his hands on the table, giving you a tired smile when you place the bowl in front of him.
“Thanks.”
“Speaking of FEDRA assholes, an officer came by the radio today with a bunch of soldiers and turned the place upside down, luckily they didn’t break the radio,” you say, serving yourself. You see Frankie’s eyebrows furrow.
“What did they want?” he asks.
“Anything, I think,” you reply. “First they asked about logs for in- and outgoing messages, which we don’t keep of course. So they told us we have to from now on and I think they want to see if there’s any mention of the Fireflies from other QZ’s.”
“And they think you’ll write that down in a log book?” Santi says, shaking his head, “they’re more stupid than I thought…”
“I always just assumed they were listening in on the radio. That can’t be hard, it’s just regular amateur radio.”
“You give FEDRA way too much credit, cariño,” Frankie says while dipping his arepa in the stew, “they don’t know shit unless they have someone who actually was a radio operator before the outbreak. And I doubt it.”
“There was something else, more worrying,” you say, “the officer, Ambrose, recognized me as your wife. He made it sound like he knew about the smuggling. When he saw that I worked the radio he said ‘so that’s how they get their information.’ “
“We haven’t used Sean’s radio for setting up trades for years,” Santi frowns, “he couldn’t know about the smuggling through that, he’s hasn’t been in the QZ long enough.”
“So that means he knows about it some other way, but he doesn’t know how you get the information,” Frankie replies, “but how does he know?”
“Yeah, that’s worrying,” Santi says, tapping his fingers on the table as he furrows his brows, “I’ll have to talk to Will and Benny, see if we’re missing something. Or someone.”
The three of you fall silent while you finish dinner, it’s not until you’ve all sunk down onto the couch that Santi speaks again.
“I’m thinking we should probably be more careful with our runs, go less often, even if FEDRA aren’t getting nosy,” he says, opening the bottle of whiskey he’d brought. “Runs are getting more and more risky, not just getting out without FEDRA noticing, but also getting through the area around the QZ.”
“More infected?” Frankie asks and Santi nods.
“Yeah, people who are trying to get to the QZ are getting infected before they get here. And if they can’t, or don’t want to, kill themselves, they just add to the ones already there.”
“Please Santi, please be careful,” you plead with him, “it was always dangerous, if it’s even more now then maybe it’s best to stop.”
“Don’t worry, we have some ideas,” he says, smiling at you. “We’ve got a contact with FEDRA who’s willing to make sure certain supply trucks don’t get checked too thoroughly. I need to make sure he’s reliable and then we can start bringing in goods that way.”
“What’s Joel and Tommy doing?” Frankie asks.
“Still looking for someone to partner up with, don’t think they’ve found anyone yet though.” Santi replies, “And as far as I know, they’re still going outside pretty regularly.”
“I guess they have to if they want to meet up with the guy from Concord,” you say, “he’s the one supplying the oxy right?”
“Unless they found someone else, yeah, it’ll be the same guy.”
Santi stays until he sees Frankie yawn and your eyes starting to droop closed, the day catching up with you both..
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, get some sleep, both of you,” he winks, “no pre-bed activities, you both look like shit.”
“Thanks Santi, always the charmer,” you mock scowl at him as Frankie yawns again, wide enough to make his jaw pop.
“Night, hermano, see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, getting to his feet. After Santi’s left he locks up and follows you into the bathroom.
“I need a shower,” he mutters, his eyes half closed, “should’ve showered when I got home but I was too tired.”
“I need a shower too,” you say as Frankie begins to peel off his clothes and he gives you a tired smile.
“Please shower with me, hermosa,” he says, holding out his hand as he kicks off his jeans, “No funny business, I promise.”
“What if I want some funny business?” you smirk at him as you unbutton your own jeans but poor Frankie just shakes his head.
“I’m sorry, I’m so tired, cariño, without the pills the nightmares are kicking my ass,” he says, turning on the water and letting it run warm, “I’m not being a very good husband.”
“Don’t be silly, Frankie, you’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” you smile, dropping your shirt in the hamper and stepping in after Frankie, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. The warm water runs over you both and you sigh as it soaks over your tired muscles. Frankie just hums in response, hanging his head and letting the water run over him, until his brain catches up.
“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he says with a snort, turning in your arms and putting his own around you. “You have nothing to compare with,” he smiles down at you as you blink up at him through the water.
“Am I the best wife you’ve ever had?” you ask with a coy voice that makes Frankie chuckle.
“Hmm…let me think about it,” he says, stroking his beard while you playfully poke his ribs and he smiles again, “Best wife I’ve ever had, best human I’ve ever known, you’re perfect in every possible way,” he says, bending down and running the tip of his nose along yours, gently nudging your cheek before his lips find yours. You moan into his mouth as he makes you open up for him, his tongue slipping along yours, tasting you and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless.
“I thought you said no funny business,” you mumble against his lips when you finally break apart.
“I’m just kissing my wife,” he mumbles back, the heavy weight of his cock making itself known between you.
“Does your dick know that?” you ask, sliding your hand between the two of you and closing your fingers around the thick length, even with the warm water from the shower, it feels hot in your hand. Frankie groans and you feel his hips jolt, thrusting into your hand as you start stroking him.
“Let me take care of you, Frankie,” you mumbled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his neck, your tongue slipping over his wet skin. You can feel the rumble of his throat under it as his cock twitches in your hand. “I want to taste you, feel that heavy weight of your cock in my mouth as you come.” You pull back and look up at him, his eyes already closed, his head tilted back, “Say it, Frankie, tell me what you want me to do.”
“Cariño,” he moans, “please, I want your mouth, suck my cock.” His hips jolt again, he’s holding back from fucking into your tight fist but you can feel him grow increasingly hard under your light grip. You give him a final kiss on his throat before you make him back up against the shower wall, he drops his head back with a dull thud. The harsh bathroom light is on and you take your time as you drop to your knees, admiring his thick and long cock, the shower has made it wet and slick, the head swollen and weeping. Looking up at him, blinking through the shower water, you see that he’s still got his eyes closed, but his breaths are rapid and strained. Still watching him you stick out your tongue and run the tip lightly over the slit. The effect is instant, a strained groan rumbles from him and it makes you smile, you love the sounds you can pull from him when he lets himself focus only on what you do to him, without him trying to make you feel good at the same time.
The water makes your hand slide easily up and down his shaft while you take the head into your mouth, tasting the salty drops leaking from him as you make sure your tongue licks over every part of, tracing the ridge and veins, circling the head with warm lips. He bucks into you, his heavy groans louder as your hand closes more tightly around what’s not in your mouth, he’s already close, you can feel him swell and twitch in your mouth. Pulling back a little you glance up at him and see him looking down at you, open mouth and glassy eyes. Like always when he concentrates his tongue rests on his bottom lip, the pink tip peeking out. He’s breathing heavily and his hips start to thrust lightly almost of their own accord. Still looking at him you let him slip out of your mouth and lick a wide stripe from the bottom of his cock, all the way up along the underside, your hand gliding down and gently cupping his balls as your mouth envelops him again, adding pressure, sucking him in between your tight lips.
“Fuck, bebita, please…” he moans, almost a pained expression on his face, “don’t stop, I need your mouth,” he’s kept his hands by his sides, fist clenched, but now he cups your cheeks, caressing your skin as you take more of him, deeper into your mouth, his blunt head nudging against the back of your throat. His moaning is downright filthy, a panted whine as he squeezes his eyes shut. You increase the pressure, tightening your mouth’s firm grip around his slick cock, letting it slide in and out of your mouth as Frankie’s breathing grows erratic.
“Don’t stop,” he groans, “so close, fuck, your mouth, hermosa…”
You breathe in and take him as deep as you can, your nose nudging the wet curls at the base of his cock, you can feel him spasming as you swallow around him, heavy on your tongue. Your mouth tightens around him, sucking firmly along the whole shaft and with a sudden, loud groan he comes, his hips bucking his cock into your throat, making you gag as you breathe through your nose. Hot liquid fills your mouth, dripping out on the sides as you suck him through his climax. He’s moaning above you, incoherent strings of Spanish, filth pouring out until his cock begins to soften in your mouth. You let him slip out, gently wrapping your hand around it and cleaning him off.
“I might pass out,” he mutters, breathing heavily as he tilts his head back, trying to compose himself, “Fuck me, I needed that, cariño.” He opens his eyes as you stand up, placing a soft kiss on his little belly before he can kiss your lips.
“Best wife I’ve ever had,” he mumbles and you giggle against his mouth.
“I know,” you smirk, “thought I’d remind you.”
“Thank you for the reminder,” he smiles back.
…
The next day things in the QZ get worse. As you walk to the radio with Frankie you can hear the new announcement from FEDRA; Going outside the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Entering the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Bringing in illegal contraband is now punishable by death. Collaborating with the Fireflies is now punishable by death. A special military court will be set up to deal with all violations of these rules
There are soldiers everywhere, check points every few blocks and everyone is on edge. Frankie holds on tightly to your hand, both of you keeping your heads down as you hurry through the streets. Life in the QZ was never easy, but now it feels like a police state, much worse than Arlington when it all blew up. Frankie looks worried when he leaves you but he’s got work in a different sector.
“If I can even get there, so many fucking check points,” he grumbles, looking over his shoulder as another FEDRA truck rumbles past.
“Be careful, come back if it gets too crazy,” you say, reaching up and giving him a kiss.
“I’ll see you soon, cariño,” he gives you another quick kiss before leaving.
He makes his way towards the eastern section, down towards the docks, passing through two check points on the way. It takes time but he’s only a little bit late when he knocks on the usual door. After a minute a window above him opens up and Tess looks down at him, her long auburn hair tied back. Lowering her gun she raises her hand in a wave.
“I’ll be right down.”
“What happened to Georgie?” Frankie asks as Tess lets him in through the locked front door.
“He got caught coming back,” she say with a scowl, “fucking idiot took a wrong turn in the tunnel and popped up right in front of a patrol.”
“They’ve made that punishable by death now,” Frankie says as he follows her into the empty hotel she and Georgie use as a base, “they were announcing it all over the streets when I came over.”
“Yeah, I heard. He was caught a couple of days ago and is still in lock up as far as I know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they hang him.” Tess sighs as she unlocks a door to her makeshift office, a small room tucked away at the end of the building behind signs reading ‘Entry prohibited - Bio-hazard’.
“I hope he makes it, he’s not exactly a good friend but I can trust him and he scares the shit out of people.” She holds the door open for Frankie and he steps into the familiar little space.
“I need a favor from you,” she says as she closes the door behind them, “You know Joel Miller.” It’s a statement not a question and Frankie nods, his hand closed around the stack of ration cards he has in his pocket.
“Since Georgie’s most likely gone, I’m going to need a new partner. Georgie had the connections for bringing in most of what I trade. Some connections I can take over, but most he handled on his own. Can you set up a meeting with him? I know he and his brother have been looking to partner with someone,” Tess opens a small safe, making sure to not show Frankie the combination, and pulls out two small baggies. “You still want oxy and ambien?”
Frankie nods, “Joel really doesn’t trust anyone, you sure you wanna work with him?” He gives Tess his ration cards and she hands him the baggies before she counts the cards.
“From what I hear, he might not trust people, but he won’t sell me out to FEDRA,” she replies, sticking the cards in her back pocket.
“No, he wouldn’t do that, and as long as you know his loyalty is only to himself and Tommy, and you can handle that, he’s good to work with, knows his shit.”
“How come you don’t work with him anymore?” Tess asks, ushering him out of the door again.
“My wife doesn’t want me smuggling anymore, I’m all she’s got,” he says, a twinge of guilt eating at him as they walk back through the hotel, “she’s all I’ve got,” he adds.
If Tess notices his uncomfort, she doesn’t mention it, “Must be nice having someone like that, something like that,” she says, “How long have you been with her?”
“Since before the outbreak,” Frankie replies, “we’d been dating for a year when it happened.”
“You’re lucky, both of you,” Tess opens the front door again, leaning against the frame after Frankie’s passed through it. “Both of you still alive, together, must be nice,” she says again and there’s something she’s not saying, Frankie recognizes the undertone of grief in her voice, and he nods.
“Yeah, we’ve been lucky, but we’ve lost people too,” he’s got his hands in his pocket, his fingers closing around the pills in the bags. “If I can introduce you to Joel, what’s in it for me?” he asks and Tess raises her eyebrows. She’s surprised it took him so long to ask.
“Discounts,” she smirks, motioning with her hand to his pocket.
Frankie nods and starts leaving, “I’ll talk to Joel, see if he wants to meet with you.”
“Thanks Frankie,” Tess gives him a wave as he walks away.
…
It doesn’t take Frankie long to get hold of Joel and tell him about Tess but the situation in the QZ deteriorates and plans are put on hold. The Fireflies attack the checkpoint into the sector where you live the day after he meets with Tess and for a few days it’s impossible to leave. You can’t get to the radio or to Will and Benny’s places, there are soldiers everywhere and all there is to do is to stay inside and lay low. You’re both starting to get worried about the situation in the QZ.
“I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we should make an emergency exit plan,” Frankie says one day. “A plan to quickly get out of here if things go bad.”
You nod, looking down at the street through the window. There’s another patrol going down the street, heavily armed. There’s no curfew during the days, you were free to go outside. But as you watch the patrol stop two women walking down the street, searching their clothes and bags, it’s clear FEDRA isn’t letting anyone walk the street in peace right now.
Frankie comes up behind you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he puts his arms around your waist.
“I’ll talk to the guys, see what we can do. We hid a working car just outside the wall, that’ll get us away from Boston at least.”
“All seven of us?” you ask, looking back at him. He sighs and shakes his head.
“No, all seven of us won’t fit, but we’ll figure something out.”
“Maybe we should just try to find some abandoned farm somewhere remote, live away from everyone else,” you say, leaning back so that you can feel his solid chest behind your back, “just risk it out there rather than in here with FEDRA, it just keeps getting worse and more and more oppressive.”
“Maybe the Fireflies will be successful,” Frankie mumbles, watching the patrol disappear around a corner, “turn things around.”
“You really think so?” you ask, he can hear the doubt in your voice.
“No, not really,” he sighs, “but I like your farm idea, fuck everyone else, just you and me.”
“It’s always just you and me, Frankie, even here. The others are like family but not like you, not the way you’re my family.”
He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he tightens his grip on you, you can feel his warm breath on your skin. He doesn’t say anything so you just stand there while he breathes in your scent, memorizing it, as if he wouldn’t recognize it anywhere already.
…
The morning the checkpoint reopens he leaves before you’re out of bed, gently dropping a kiss on your cheek while he rouses you, sitting on the bed.
“I need to see Miguel about some spare parts, the clinic needs to fix some medical equipment,” he mumbles, his lips close to your skin while you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles and untangles himself, “I’ve got to go, cariño, I’ll see you this afternoon, I’ll come pick you up at the radio.”
He makes his way through the checkpoint and over to Joel’s place. Tommy’s already there and Frankie leads them to the meeting spot he’d agreed on with Tess before the check point was bombed, hoping she’ll come back at the same time. Appointments were often postponed or interrupted in the QZ so there was a habit of just turning up at the same place, same time a couple days in a row and hoping for the best if you didn’t hear from the other person.
Tess is there, waiting, when the two Miller brothers and Frankie scramble up to the second floor of a partially bombed building. Joel grumbles about having to ‘drag and climb a fuckin’ dumpster’ but stands up straight and gives Tess a once over when she pushes herself off the dilapidated office desk she was leaning against.
“This is Tess Servopoulos,” Frankie says, “Joel and Tommy Miller,” he points at each man.
“Nice to meet you, Tess,” Tommy says, holding out his hand to her and she takes it with a smile.
“Same, your reputation precedes you,” she replies, holding out her hand to Joel too, who accepts it and gives her hand a firm shake.
“Only a good reputation, I hope,” Tommy chuckles, easing the tension in the meeting, although Joel still stands rigid, putting his hands into his jeans pockets after shaking her hand.
“Frankie says you’re reliable and know your shit,” Tess says, eyeing Joel's silent form like she’s trying to gauge him. She knows he’s the one she has to convince and he’s doing his best to look as standoffish as possible.
“We’ve been smuggling pretty much since the outbreak,” Tommy replies, “been in Boston for about five years now.”
Tess nods, “I’ve been working with Georgie for about six years, here and there, but he got caught by FEDRA last week.”
“Yeah, Frankie told us, bad luck,” Tommy nods but Joel scoffs.
“Bad luck…he got sloppy, if that’s the kind of operation you run, we’re not interested, darlin’,” he says and Tess narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth but closes it again, biting back whatever retort was on her mind.
She turns to Tommy instead, “I know you used to work with a few other guys, why are you looking for a new partner?”
“Our cousins have a thing about not smuggling drugs,” Joel replies, cutting Tommy off, “that a problem for you?”
“Smuggling ‘em? Not at all,” Tess says, glancing at Frankie and he does his best to not look at Joel. When Joel asked how Frankie knew Tess he said he’d traded with her for spare parts for the radio. It was true, he had traded with her for parts, but only once.
Joel looks at Frankie, connecting the dots, as Tommy gives Tess a rough outline of how they usually operate, what they can get their hands on.
“You ok with that, Frankie?” Joel asks him, “Tess trading drugs? You got a handle on it?”
“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” Frankie looks up at Joel and wills himself to keep his eyes steady on the older man, “it’s fine.”
Joel gives him a slow nod, “Ok, as long as you’re fine with it.”
But Tess frowns and looks at Joel, “What do you mean?” she asks, eyeing him, “Why would Frankie have any problems with me trading drugs? He buys them from me.”
Tommy raises his eyebrows at this piece of information and looks at Frankie who tries to square his shoulders and look like he’s in control.
“They’re worried I’ll get addicted,” he says, “I got pretty bad PTSD after I left the army and when shit gets too dark here, it comes back,” he shrugs, feigning a casual attitude he doesn’t feel, “but I just need the shit to sleep, the nightmares never really went away and the pills help with that, that’s all.”
He knows he’s not telling the whole truth and Joel certainly knows that, but Frankie meets his eyes and refuses to look away, willing the man to understand that he’s got it under control.
Tess gives him a hard stare as Frankie tugs on his ball cap and crosses his arms. “Ok, as long as you’ve got a handle on it, I don’t have any issues, I’m not your moral compass, we all do what we need to do to get by. And from what I hear, you guys sell drugs too?,” she looks over at Joel who nods.
“Yeah, but I stopped selling to Frankie a while back, and we stopped working together, what we did triggered his PTSD.”
“I’ve got it under control now,” Frankie says, he can feel the familiar panic creeping through his nerves. If Joel tells Tess to cut him off he has nowhere else to go. “Since I stopped with the smuggling I’m fine, it’s just the nightmares that give me insomnia, I just need the drugs to help me sleep on nights when it gets bad. But it’s less now, hardly ever.” He’s lying through his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and his poker face on, but he’s not sure he manages.
“I don’t give a fuck, Frankie,” Joel says, “I’m not selling to you, mainly out of respect for your wife and Will and Benny. But like she said, I ain’t your moral compass.” He turns to Tess again, “Either way, that doesn’t affect our potential partnership. Since Frankie trusts you, maybe this can work, but I need to talk to my brother in private first. We’ll let you know in a couple of days.”
Tess nods and shakes both Joel and Tommy’s hands before the two men leave. Frankie and Tess follow after them, jumping down onto the dumpster.
“Your wife’s not gonna come after me for supplying drugs to you, is she?” Tess asks as they reach the ground.
“No,” he shakes his head, starting to walk away.
“She doesn’t know, does she?” Tess has crossed her arms over her chest and is giving him another hard stare.
“She does, she knows I take them to sleep,” Frankie tugs on his cap again, he knows it’s a nervous gesture and Tess just shakes her head.
“You’re a shit liar, Frankie,” she says as she gives him another hard look, “Just keep it under control, ok?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s under control:” He raises his hand and gives her a wave, “I’ll see you around, I’ve got to get going.”
“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Frankie.”
…
Despite Joel’s mistrusting nature, he agrees to start working with Tess, on a trial basis. Frankie finds out a few days later when he asks Tess for an actual spare part for the clinic.
“Joel’s a piece of work, but I prefer that to someone who throws his trust at anyone, that’ll get you killed,” she says, taking the ration cards the clinic had given him in exchange for a pristine looking piece of equipment. Frankie doesn’t know what it does exactly but he knows the one in the machine is broken and he’ll fix it somehow.
“Joel knows his shit,” Frankie says, tucking the equipment into his backpack, walking back through the hotel with Tess. “Thanks for the part, Diana will be happy, the machine is important to them.”
“Sure, let me know if you need anything else.” She gives him a wave as he leaves.
When he meets up with the rest of the guys later at the bar he tells them about Joel’s new partner.
“I’m surprised Joel’s prepared to work with someone else,” Benny leans back on the couch and kicks out his long legs, “Tommy says he’s turned down both Miguel and that guy Robert.”
“It’s a smart move,” Will replies, “FEDRA is all over the place, he’s gonna need an extra pair of eyes for any bigger trades. We’re gonna need to be real careful too, it’s no longer just a few nights in FEDRA lock up. They’re actually going through with fucking executions.”
“As if dealing with raiders and infected wasn’t bad enough, now FEDRA wants to kill us too?” Benny huffs, “Half the stuff we bring in goes to soldiers, for fucks sake…”
Pope nods and takes a sip of the bar’s homemade whiskey, grimacing at the taste, “They were setting up for a hanging when I came over, three guys caught in condemned buildings. If FEDRA’s already suspecting us like your girl said, Frankie, then we should probably lay low for a few weeks. We’ve got the supplies we need for now.”
“What about the trade we have planned, we’ve got stuff coming in from Worcester, that deal Will and I set up? We’re gonna need to receive it and get it stashed as soon as it comes in.” Benny looks over at the others.
For years their best contact had been a FEDRA soldier in the QZ, and through him Benny and Will had made a connection with a FEDRA officer in the Worcester QZ, the man’s brother in law. It had taken months but a convoy of FEDRA trucks were due to come over from Worcester, together with the officer and a number of much needed supplies hidden among the official FEDRA shipments. Thanks to Boston being a much bigger QZ the guys had been able to offer him a large stack of ration cards in exchange for a number of in demand items.
Pope nods at Benny, “Yeah, we have to handle that one, we won't be able to postpone it.” He glances over at Frankie, “I hate to ask, hermano…” he says, “but we could really use your help, just as a look out, for that trade now. You think you’re ok to do it? I hate to say it, but you still look like shit.”
Frankie shrugs, “I still don’t sleep great, the nightmares are a bitch, but yeah of course, if you need me, I can do it.”
“Are you sure, Frankie?” Will asks, “I don’t want you doing this if you don’t feel ok, we’re not risking your recovery for this. The three of us will just do it as usual.”
“If you need me, man, I can do it. And it’s just as a lookout right? That’s just keeping an eye on things, making sure no FEDRA patrols are around?”
“Yeah, we’ve set up a lookout point near the location and we got some radios. All you’d need to do is sit there and radio me if anything happens.” Pope says, glancing over at Will who nods.
“Talk to your wife first though, we don’t want to cause any family drama here, make sure she’s onboard with it and thinks you're ok to do it.”
“Yeah, I’ll talk to her tonight, I’ll let you guys know tomorrow,” Frankie says, putting down his glass and getting ready to leave. “I’m picking her up from the radio office in a little bit. What day is this happening?”
“Thursday,” Pope says, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll talk it through.”
“Ok, yeah, I’ll talk to her, but I feel good, I can do that, I wanna help you guys anyway I can,”
“Appreciate it, man,” Benny says, Frankie drops his hand on the younger man’s shoulder as he’s leaving and Benny gives it a quick squeeze, looking up at Frankie. “It’s good to know you’re doing better, Fish.”
Frankie gives him a crooked smile and a wave to the other two and heads out the door of the bar.
…
Frankie’s waiting outside the radio when you step outside, Sean’s taken over the radio for the evening and you’re stretching out your back after a long shift hunched over the dials and notebooks. You see him before he sees you, leaning against a barrier on the other side of the street, watching a group of children playing on a makeshift playground in a small park. They’ve all got the rough looking hand me downs the orphan children of the local FEDRA school wears and there’s two elderly ladies in FEDRA uniforms keeping an eye on them.
Frankie looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and his ordinarily tan skin is ashen and gray. His curls are still brown but his scruffy beard is mostly silver now, as you watch his hand comes up and absentmindedly rubs across his jaw, scratching at the short hairs. You’d spent some time last night giving his beard and hair a trim, giggling as he wriggled his nose when the hairs tickled him. Sometimes he was back to his normal self, relaxed and soft around you, sleeping better without nightmares, even cracking jokes and messing with Benny when you met up with the others. But you could see that he was struggling still, the good nights were far apart and most mornings he moved like a sleepwalker, taking time to come back to life. In the evenings he stumbled to bed and was fast asleep as soon as he’d curled himself around you, sometimes the nightmares would plague him but he couldn’t wake up, you’d shake him and he’d be trapped in his nightmare. When you finally managed to rouse him he’d be disoriented and panicky until he fell asleep again, almost instantly.
Now you walk across the street as he watches the kids take turns on the makeshift tire swing. You know which one of the children he’s looking at; a young girl, about five, with the same dark curls as Lucía. She’s hanging on to the swing, shrieking with laughter as another girl spins the tire around, her hair whirling around her head as she throws it back and giggles.
“Hey Frankie,” you say as you come up to him, he turns around as you sneak your arms around his waist, pulling him out of his silent reverie.
“Hey cariño,” he says, giving you a kiss before turning back to the park. The girl had gotten off the swing and was running towards the slide. “She reminds me of Lucía,” he mumbles, glancing over at you, “makes me wonder what she’d look like now.” You give his waist an extra squeeze as you watch the girl shoot down the slide and run around to climb back up to the top.
“She’d be fifteen now, too old for playgrounds,” he gives a small smile, “although, I don’t think she’d ever get too old for swings, she loved them.”
The little girl has climbed to the top of the slide for a third time and is standing up, waving at someone.
“Come here! Ellie, come on the slide with me!” she calls, waving her arm and a younger girl hurries across from the swings and climbs the stairs, her short legs struggling with the big steps. The older girl instructs the younger to sit down in front, and together they slide down, their high pitched giggles carrying in the clear spring air. It makes your heart clench, the sound and the image so normal, reminding you of the times you’d been at the playground with Frankie and Lucía.
“C’mon, we should get moving,” Frankie says, pulling his eyes away from the dark haired girl as he takes your hand. His mood is subdued on the way back to the apartment. You tell him about your day and he hooks his arm around your shoulder, listening as you walk through the crowds. But he remains silent, lost in his own thoughts when you stop talking. When you get back home he toes off his shoes and goes to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as you fill a pot of water.
“Joel and Tommy are gonna partner up with a woman called Tess,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Tess has been helping me get spare parts for the clinic and she asked if I’d introduce her to them.”
You look over at him, you can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s not done. And he confirms it as he drops his gaze, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.
“Pope and the guys asked if I could help them out on a trade, as a lookout, but they wanted me to talk to you first, make sure you’re ok with it.”
“Tell me about it,” you say, turning to lean on the counter as he comes over and stands next to you.
“They’ve got a connection with this guy in Worcester, he’s bringing in supplies on a FEDRA truck, as part of a bigger convoy. They need me to be the lookout when they meet the men inside the QZ. I won’t go outside and I won’t be near the actual trade, just be the lookout.”
“Do you feel ok about it?” you ask and Frankie nods.
“Yeah, I wanna help them with this,” he says, turning a bit so that he can look at you. “FEDRA is patrolling more and they need me to warn them if there’s a patrol approaching.”
“Your nightmares are still really bad though, and sometimes I can’t even wake you up from them, Frankie. If something happens, is it gonna trigger you even more?”
“If something happens and I’m not there to keep watch, that’s gonna be even worse,” Frankie shakes his head, “They need my help with this. Once they’re done with this they’re gonna lie low, FEDRA’s hanging people over the smallest charge now, but this trade is too big and they can’t postpone it.”
“And you’ll only be lookout, away from the actual trade?” you question and Frankie nods again.
“They have a lookout point nearby, I’ll have a radio and just contact Santi if something happens, that’s it.”
You lean against the counter while Frankie looks at you, waiting for your answer, for your approval. It makes you realize that he hasn’t done that before, let you make the decision. He’s told you about the plans, listened to your opinion and adjusted the plans and made changes so that you would be more comfortable about letting him go. This time, when what he’s been asked to do really doesn’t seem all that dangerous by comparison, he’s leaving the whole decision up to you.
“Ok, if you think you’re ready for it, I trust you Frankie, you should help them.”
“I do, I feel strong enough to do this, thank you cariño,” he steps in front of you and grabs your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter so that he's standing between your legs. It makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers.
“When is it?”
“Thursday…was your skin always this soft here?” he’s running his nose down your neck, pulling back the scruff of your hoodie and burying it just above your clavicle.
“You’re distracting me, Frankie, I had more questions,” you laugh, his tongue comes out and licks a warm strip across the ridge of the bone.
“I know, that’s the point,” he mumbles against your skin.
“Much as I love this horny version of you, you should try and get as much sleep as possible until Thursday, I know how tired you are.”
“Take me to bed then,” he chuckles, still buried against the crook of your neck, leaving a burning trail of nips and kisses up your throat.
“We haven’t even had dinner,” you laugh as he tries to make you hook your legs around his waist so that he can pick you up, “Let me make dinner and then I’ll take you to bed for dessert.”
“My favorite kind of dessert,” he smiles, pulling back from your neck to kiss your mouth, making you part your lips for his tongue.
“Why don’t you take a nap on the couch while I make dinner, Frankie,” you say when he starts working his way back down along your jaw, “because at this rate, we’re never getting dinner,” you have to giggle when he starts pushing up your shirt, his warm hands palming over your back.
“Too horny to take a nap now,” he chuckles, but he stands up and lets you slip off the counter. And when you start pulling out ingredients he gives your butt a final squeeze and does go to the couch. It doesn’t take long before you hear his soft snores, when you look over he’s face planted on the couch, one arm dangling off it, the other under his head as a pillow.
…
The trade is set up to take place after dark, and after curfew. Sunset in May in Boston is late so Frankie and the guys make their way to the meeting spot well before the curfew comes into effect and bunker down to wait for darkness. In an off limits building, an old office building near the QZ wall, Pope, Will and Benny have set up a secluded spot for the trade. Now the four of them are in the building across the small square, up on the fifth floor, inside a spacious apartment with a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood, the lookout point.
The sun is slowly sinking below the horizon while they wait for the agreed upon hour. Benny’s brought an old battered pack of playing cards and they’re killing time by playing rounds of poker. Frankie curses when he loses yet another game, thankful they’re only playing for the silver cutlery Pope found in the apartment's kitchen. The utensils clink as Will drags them across the dining room table after winning his seventh game.
“Fuck, Will, teach me your ways,” Frankie grumbles, he’s down to two spoons and one knife.
“Skill, Catfish,” Will chuckles, sorting his cutlery into neat piles, “And years of counting numbers.”
“I just keep getting shit cards,” Benny mutters, tossing his losing hand onto the table with a snap of his wrist, making them scatter. “Your turn to deal, Pope.”
Pope gathers the cards and quickly deals again, “I’m winning those spoons back, Will, just so you know.”
“Whatever you say, man, you’re happy to try,” Will chuckles, straightening out the six large spoons he’s got neatly lined up along his eight knives and eight forks. “Just need to get Frankie’s two spoons and I’ve got a full set.”
After two more rounds, Frankie kicks back his chair and throws his arms up in defeat, “I’m fucking bust.”
“It’s alright, Fish, Diana and I will be thinking about you when we have dinner tomorrow,” Will smirks, sliding the spoons over to his side of the table.
Pope looks at his watch and out at the dark night sky, “We should get going, scout the area again and position ourselves.”
Benny gathers the cards and they all pack up. Frankie makes his way out to the large balcony wrapped around the corner of the building and scans the square and the surrounding streets.
“All’s quiet out there,” he says in a hushed voice as he comes back in. Pope grabs his radio and turns it to the pre-agreed frequency and tests the connection.
“I’ll radio you when we’re in position, make sure the connection is clear,” he says, clipping it onto his belt as Frankie does the same with his radio. “And don’t forget our contact is going to signal you when they cross the square.”
“Yeah, I know, it’s all under control,” he nods, waiting while the three men pick up the equipment they’d put by the front door when they came in. Even though it was a trade, old habits die hard, and they all had concealed handguns and backpacks with extra gear. Frankie secures his own gun at the back of his pants and triple checks the battery on the radio before picking up a battered pair of binoculars.
“Alright, ready to go?” Will asks and the other two nods. “Radio us if there’s anything irregular, Catfish.”
“Stay safe, I’ll see you at the rendezvous soon.”
Frankie locks up behind the guys as they leave the apartment and hunkers down on the balcony. He’s dragged out some of the less damaged couch pillows and propped them up along the railing and floor, making a nest where he’s hidden from sight. Through a small opening he can scan the streets below, laying flat on his belly with the binoculars in front of him. His nerves are making him jumpy, he’s not used to being without the sleeping pills this long, and it adds an extra layer of stress to the usual laser focus he has during a mission. Even though he’s ‘just’ the lookout he feels the familiar tingling in his spine as he scans the street.
The radio crackles to life on his belt and Pope’s voice comes through; “Catfish, we’re in position. Do you copy, over?”
“Loud and clear, Pope. I’m in position, over.”
“Maintain radio silence unless necessary, over.”
“Wilco, out.”
He clips the radio back on to his belt and settles down. There’s still about thirty minutes left before the other party is due to turn up, but both Will and Pope like having plenty of margins to work with. He glances at his watch and calculates in his head how long it would take for one of the oxy tablets to kick in. He needs something to sooth his nerves, it’s like he can feel every seam and stitch on every piece of clothing he’s wearing, scratching and grating against his overheated skin. Even his hair is itching where it curls over his ears and he swipes off his cap and pushes it back. Just one oxy, to take the edge off, let him focus while he waits.
He swallows it dry, almost regretting it as the bitter flavor coats the inside of his mouth. But soon he feels the effect, his body goes loose, the scratching stops. He watches two men hurry across the square, stopping to give a one handed wave three times up towards Frankie’s balcony. The trade is underway, he leans back against the wall.
It’s so quiet up here. The QZ is always so noisy, so many people in such a small space, up here he can’t hear anything, it’s so peaceful.
All the people are gone. It’s only him. Up here.
And these pillows are so soft, they feel like clouds against his face.
Only him high up in the sky with no noise.
Just soft pillows and soft clothes and darkness behind his eyelids.
Pairing-Joel miller x f!reader x Francisco Morales
Summary-You were a bartender at Joel’s place and everyone knew you were his but when you meet Francisco Morales you wonder if there’s room in your heart for one more.
Chapter summary-Frankie finally takes the plunge and stops disguising his feelings for the both of you.
WK-4.9K
Character Link
A/N-I split this into two parts because I don’t want to rush what will unfold between the three of them. I promise you the smut you’ve been waiting for is just around the corner I just want to give these three a chance to build something.
[Series Masterlist][Main Masterlist]
Not beta read
Chapter IV- XXX part I
You shuffle into the kitchen to make coffee again. You could get used to Joel sleeping in and relaxing. You’re mindlessly wandering around in his comfy flannel thinking of your conversation with Frankie.
He seemed to want to open up to you towards the end of your walk and you had to hold onto that little sliver of hope that you weren’t imagining his attraction to you.
The heavy shuffle of footsteps alerts you that he’s awake. He slides up behind you molding his hands to your waist under his flannel. The cool counter top against your stomach paired with his hot breath on your neck sends shivers down your spine.
“A mysterious woman keeps wearing my clothes and making me coffee.” He’s kissing your neck as you lean back into his bare chest. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that.”
“I keep waking up to a mysterious man snoring next to me.” He spins you and you wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t think my man friend would appreciate that.”
He kisses you slowly, his tongue prodding your mouth for entrance. It didn’t matter the time of day he was always desperate for you. There was so much passion in his movements. His hands wander the back of your thighs as he cups your ass pulling you further into him.
“Man friend?” He says against your lips before pulling away.
“Boyfriend didn’t have the same ring to it.” You chuckle as he narrows his eyes at you. You don’t think anyone besides his brother ever saw this side of him. It pains you and warms your heart all at once.
“How did things go last night?” You shrugged your shoulders as you dropped your head.
“You wanna try that again?” He tilts your chin up with his finger and mimics your movements. “That wasn’t much of an answer.”
“It went okay I guess.” He shakes his head at you as he reaches behind to grab his mug.
“Be patient, Shine…he’s got some walls built up just like you and I did.” He takes a sip of his boring black coffee and hums under his breath.
“I seem to recall me breaking down your walls in a matter of days.” You love teasing him about how easily he fell for you after your first meeting.
“Well I didn’t say that I don’t have faith in you. It won’t be much longer with the way you are behind that bar.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He winks at you from behind the mug and it never ceases to amaze how the smallest things he does could have you weak in the knees.
****
Your day continues as it usually does, clean the house,shower and get ready for the night. It didn’t bother you having normalcy that some may have deemed boring before the outbreak. Boring was a lot better than being worried about how you were going to eat or sleep or if you would even survive the day.
Joel told you he would be late again tonight so you were looking forward to another chance at getting to know Frankie.
It was exciting going to work knowing you had a little family there waiting for you. People who genuinely cared and who shared the same life experiences as you.
When you enter the bar it’s not as cheerful as the previous night. Ben sends you a polite smile as he pulls you into a tight hug. Charity is behind the bar chatting with Frankie but Will and Santi are know where in sight.
“Hey hon,does he want the usual?” She shakes her head at you as she glances over at Frankie.
“I wouldn’t go in there right now.” She gestures towards the hallway that leads to his office as she finishes wiping down the bar.
“If you don’t figure out where it went, they will help you figure it out!” Joel’s booming voice echos from the back as your eyes go wide.
“Told ya babe.”
Two men not much older than you and Ben come out from the hallway with their heads hung followed by Santi,Will and Joel.
His face is grim but he postures when he sees you leaning against the bar. Frankie stands from his laid back position and tips his head towards Joel. It was cute to see how flustered he got in his presence.
Benny closes and locks the door behind them and bounds over to join everyone. Charity doesn’t hesitate to greet Santi with a kiss on his cheek and Joel just rolls his eyes at the two lovebirds.
“What was all that about?”
Joel cups your face and kisses you on the forehead. “Nothin’ you need to worry your pretty little head about.”
You don’t miss the look Frankie gives you as Joel pulls away -longing.
“It’s gonna be a busy night folks. I don’t need to tell the ladies what to do.” He winks at you and Charity. “Boys keep your eyes open, Ben don’t rough ‘em up too much.”
“You.” He points to Frankie. “Keep our girl safe.” He’s already heading back to his office as you try not to stare at his broad shoulders.
Our? Was that intentional? Was it accidental? It makes your face grow hot and you can see the red creep up Frankie’s neck as he makes eye contact with you.
“Yes Mr.Miller.” Joel turns on his heel and clears his throat as he looks at him, leveling him with his dark gaze.
“Yes Joel.” The tension lingering in the air is bound to snap soon.
“So I guess I’m the only one not in love.” Ben slides up behind you whispering in your ear.
“Jesus Ben, you have to stop doing that.”
“Listen sweetheart, you’re the only one I can sneak up on apparently so I’m gonna take full advantage.”
Frankie bristles slightly at the pet name. Sometimes he wishes he could be as fun and carefree as the younger man. It’s a little selfish of him to be envious of someone who didn’t get to live and love as much as he did before the outbreak.
“I’m not worried about you finding love, it’s your brother I’m worried about.” You gesture over to Will who is sitting in his usual seat for the night going over something he has scribbled down on some old notepad.
“This is his love.” Ben doesn’t elaborate as he saunters off to the front door to resume his post for the night.
****
He never offered many details but Joel was always right. It was very busy and you didn’t have much time to think about Frankie. There were a lot of new faces and some old ones mixed in. It was always thrilling seeing the reactions of people who had been through so much just now entering the Boston QZ. The laid back nature of the bar was a nostalgic reprieve for so many.
Frankie’s gaze remains fixed on you as you make your way around. His heart races as his breath catches in his throat. The dimly lit bar seems to fade into the background, leaving only you in his line of sight. Your eyes lock for a moment, a silent conversation passing between you that only the two of you can decipher.
You exchange stolen glances and accidental touches as you brush past him at the end of the bar. Frankie’s internal struggle becomes more evident. His body wavers between you and the remnants of his better judgment. He knows he should resist, that giving into your luring presence might lead to unforeseen consequences, but he’s given up on trying.
“Hey Rico suave, you want to do your job?” Santi’s voice pulls him from his thoughts as he sees some guys at the end of the bar hassling you. Shit
Frankie heads toward the trouble brewing. His presence commands attention, and there’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere as he approaches them.
“This isn’t the place you want to cause any commotion and definitely not with her.” He has his hands placed on their shoulders and from an outsider it looks gentle but you can see the squeeze he gives and the authority in his tone demands respect.
They pay their rations and leave without any more commotion. You know it’s his job but his actions speak volumes to the depth of his connection to you.
As you busy yourself with your tasks at hand and all the patrons you can feel his eyes tracing your every move. The weight of his gaze is both exhilarating and unnerving. With every passing second the intensity grows, drawing you both closer to a point of no return. The unspoken understanding that something significant is about to unfold hangs in the air.
As you’re all winding down for the night Charity comes over for her nightcap tea,exhausted from helping you and performing for the rowdy crowd. You silently prepare her tea as she sends you and Frankie knowing glances.
“Spill it.” She leans in close so only you can hear.
“Santi said the latest run was stolen. Obviously Joel is pissed and he thinks it’s Cain’s men.”
Frankie can only hear bits and pieces not wanting to eavesdrop on the conversation but definitely intrigued. He notices you stiffen at the mention of the name he’s never heard. Your whole demeanor changes in the blink of an eye.
“I’m sure it’s nothing, babe we’ll deal with whatever happens.” She’s trying to be strong for you but you can see in her eyes she’s rattled too.
You spend the rest of the night finishing your tasks in peace as you ponder what his sudden interest in anything that has to do with Joel means.
****
You and Frankie seem to be repeating your night's previous activity as you walk in silence. He keeps looking over at you as you’re lost deep in thought.
The sounds of the city are doing nothing to drown out your racing thoughts. The mention of Cain had you on edge from the moment his name left Charity’s mouth.
You barely register Frankie’s fingers brushing yours as you subconsciously interlock your hands. You walk like that for a while before he breaks the silence.
“I didn’t mean to call you a job.” He nervously bites at his bottom lip as you wait for him to continue. “Last night…I said I was just doing my job.”
You weigh his words apprehensive of how you should continue the conversation.“I know your job is important to you and I know you take it very seriously.”
“I just got nervous when you asked me to come inside.”
“Do I make you nervous?” You’re still aware of his hand locked with yours and you give it a gentle squeeze when he doesn’t answer.
“Can I ask you a dumb question?” His shyness makes you giggle. “I’m sure it’s not dumb but go ahead.”
“Why don’t you live above the bar?” He notices your apprehension at the question. If you want him to be open with you then you have to reciprocate.
“It was fine at first but he didn’t like the way people noticed where we came and went. He said it made us too vulnerable.”
He listens with rapt attention as you tell him about the runs Joel used to do himself for supplies that he would hand out to people who needed it more than him. There was a time when he wasn’t so generous and this was his way of repaying that debt.
He was shocked to hear about Joel’s brother although you didn’t go into much detail about him. ‘That’s not my place’. Frankie understood that you had to draw a line somewhere.In the end he got that it was safer for the both of you to live further away from where all the business went down.
“Apartment 15 holds a special place in my heart though.” His laugh echoes off the brick walls.
“Joel insisted I have that same apartment. He said the light hits it just right in the morning and the moon casts a perfect light at night.” It warms your heart that he would give him something special that you could both share.
“You know…Joel wasn’t always this way…he was all grunts and hard edges when I first met him.” He shoots you an inquisitive look as he rubs your hand with his thumb.
“Is that what you do? Smooth the edges.” Your heart is beating fast again as his voice drops an octave. You’re not imagining the suggestive tone the conversation is now taking.
The question lingers in the air as Frankie halts his steps. He nods behind you and you realize you’ve made it to the bottom steps of the townhouse. The conversation flowed so easily and you were so wrapped up with his hand held tightly in yours that you didn’t notice how close you were to home.
Neither of you has made a move to let go as he stares into your eyes. He looks like he wants to say something but can’t find the right words.
“Do you want to come in?”
“I shouldn’t.” You could call it here and walk up the stairs but he’s looking at you with those chocolate brown eyes that say something else.
“I didn’t ask if you should…I asked if you wanted to.” He nods his head once and looks up to the moon shining bright above you both.
You lead him up the stairs still holding his hand. His palms start to sweat and you can feel the anticipation building around this moment. As you enter the room he pauses taking it all in. The space was so you with little hints of Joel. A large wooden bookcase lined the wall and an old but nice leather couch was centered in the room.
He could tell it was decorated by you with old scratched paintings left behind and Knick knacks picked up by Joel on various runs to make the space seem lived in. A far cry from the bare apartments above the bar. The tall brass lamp casting a soft glow along the wall which opens into the kitchen. The front lined with brick and a large bay window that lets all the natural moonlight in.
As he takes it all in he finally notices you, a sudden wave of shyness has come over you as you stand there fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. You exuded such confidence in the bar that it almost didn't occur to him how innocent you were.
He takes a step closer to you as he trails his hands behind your arm. His touch feels electric as he leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips. He pulls away momentarily to look into your eyes for any sign that you want this to stop.
He senses no hesitation from you as he walks you backwards and your knees hit the couch. You lean back as he crowds over you, his leg pins you down as he holds the rest of his weight on his arm. A soft warm breath fans across your face as he captures your lips again. His hands are everywhere, as he moans into your mouth grinding his hips into you.
You chase his kiss as he pulls away, biting down gently on your bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to do that since the day you walked into that office.”
You brush his soft brown locks back from his face as you catch your breath. “I’m glad you finally did.”
He sits up slightly seated between you and shifts his thighs to spread yours further. His fingers work slowly to unbutton your blouse and you can feel heat rising in your core with every inch he takes. His large palms grasp your waist as he plants kisses along your neck, lower and lower until he reaches your navel.
His tongue is hot on your stomach as he licks a stripe along it, nipping his teeth at the button on your skirt. A desperate whine leaves your mouth as he shushes you against your body. Goosebumps ignite at the feel of his lips on you and his hands pushing you down into the couch.
“Patience mi Luna.” He teases as he bunches your skirt up, too impatient himself to take it off.
He brushes his thumb along your soaked panties and growls at the feel of your slick through the soft cotton. He’s barely touched you and it’s a kindle to the burning flame of your desire for him. He kisses your thighs as he gets closer to where you need him most.
Your noises are driving him crazy in all the right ways but he wants to take his time with you, time that he’s forgotten completely about as he’s consumed by your existence and your intoxicating need for him.
“Can I taste you?” You nod your head, unable to form words.
“Please do..” A deep familiar voice sounds from behind him and he freezes. You sit up and see Joel with a smug grin on his face leaned against the front door.
Frankie practically flips you off the couch as he clambers to his feet. “I’m…I..shit.” He’s standing there as Joel walks to you planting a kiss on your sweaty forehead.
“Enjoyin’ yourself Shine?” There’s a playfulness in his tone that Frankie is too scared to pick up on.
He heads towards the door without looking back. “I’m really sorry, I should go.” The door slams before either of you have a chance to speak and you flop your head back in frustration as Joel looks down at you and laughs.
“That one’s skittish.” He’s still laughing as you adjust your skirt and sit up. He sits down next to you and pulls you into his side. You’re still reeling from the moment with Frankie and can’t tamp down the feeling of almost having what you wanted.
“You scared him away.”
“I did nothin’ of the sort.” An exasperated sigh leaves you and you’ve just about had it with Joel’s laughter as it reverberates through your body.
“Don’t worry Shine…I’ll fix it. First I want to talk to you about somethin’ before this goes any further.” He rubs his hand down his jeans, whenever he’s nervous he does it.
“You know I like Francisco.” You nod and wait patiently for him to continue. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable with anything.”
“What do you mean…specifically?” You want him to say it just so there’s no doubt in what he wants.
“I mean between me and him.” You bite your lip at the thought of them together.
“I know you want him, and I’m fine with it. It actually turns me on to think about you doing things to him that you would do to me.” He looks at you then directly with fire in his eyes. Your fingers play with hair at the nape of his neck sending chills down his spine. Any hesitation he had before has been squashed with your admission that you want all of it.
You lean in close to whisper in his ear.“Maybe you could show me what you would do.” His cock twitches at the thought of all of you together. Not yet
“You know I’ll always take care of you.” He leans in and sinks his teeth into that spot on your neck that makes you putty in his hands. “But i'm not finishin’ another man’s job.”
****
Your night was left in limbo and the subsequent morning as you thought about what Joel said. It was clear Frankie wanted you but if he didn’t want things with Joel then everything was off the table and you would just have to live with that.
You tried to shake off that uneasy feeling as you walked to the bar, you never thought it necessary to have an escort until Frankie arrived. It felt like eyes were on you the whole way to work but you pressed on in hopes that people knew not to mess with you. Joel would burn down the QZ to find you if anything happened and he took care of Fedra soldiers well enough that they didn’t mess with you either.
You open the door but aren’t greeted with your usual hug from Benny. He’s seated at a table with Santi and Will. It’s eerily quiet as you notice Charity behind the bar.
“Joel wants to see you in his office, babe.”
“Okay.” You head towards the hallway as you look over at the table. All worried eyes are on you.
“Umm…Frankie’s been in there for a while.”
“What’s a while?” She shoots you a look and you can tell she thinks it’s bad. You know it’s been a long time since she’s found someone to care about and it kills you to think you may have jeopardized her chance at love.
You will your feet to carry you the rest of the way as you take a deep breath and open the door.
Frankie is seated in the chair across from Joel’s desk. Both men seem very relaxed as he turns to look at you. It doesn’t appear to you that you’ve walked in on any uncomfortable conversation or Frankie being reprimanded.
They both smile at you so sweetly and endearing in their own way. It’s odd and makes you feel slightly uneasy.
“Come here Shine.” It’s polite but a command nonetheless. You walk over to the desk and you can feel Frankie’s eyes on you. His laid back posture in the chair is a veritable difference to his sudden departure the previous night.
You start to round the desk but Frankie catches your wrist and spins you towards him. He stands and surveys you as he pushes you against the desk. A sharp intake of breath and you’re abruptly laid out on top. Had you paid close attention you would’ve noticed all the items missing from Joel’s usually cluttered space.
All you can see is the ceiling until Joel comes into view just above your head. He runs his thumb along your jaw as Frankie trails his hands up your thighs and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this exposed.
The grating sound of the chair on hardwood is all you can hear over your beating heart. Frankie tucks his fingers in the waistband of your panties as he slowly slides them down your thighs, his calloused hands pry them open slowly as he drags you to the end of the desk.
He hums to himself as you're unable to disguise the heat that’s been building in your core. “She’s so wet.”
“She always is.” Every move is calculated and deliberate, every move just like Joel’s and you’re aware of how it’s already been set in motion.
“Can I taste you?” Your brain is dizzy with arousal and you can only think of speaking his name as if asking for permission. “Joel?” A breathy response leaves you as your chest rises and falls.
He tilts your chin back awkwardly as he looks down at you. “Francisco asked you a question.”
“Yes.” The answer will always be yes if it means they will take you a part methodically and masterfully planned.
A disturbed sound leaves your lips as Frankie strokes your slit with his tongue. You attempt to look down but Joel’s finger is still placed on your chin keeping your gaze locked on him. You’re a whimpering mess as he feasts on you like a man starved.
He circles your clit with his tongue and you almost crush his head with your thighs. His broad shoulders nudge them a bit further apart as two fingers dip into your entrance, he starts a slow deliberate pace as he works you open.
You look up and no longer see Joel’s eyes on you, he’s fixated on the ways Frankie’s making you squirm and the sweet noises he pulls from you as you bite down on your lip to try and stifle your moans.
Frankie’s not sure he’s ever felt like this. He’s got a taste and now he won’t ever turn back. The sounds you’re making and the way Joel looks at him he thinks he’s finally found home. Your hands grip his hair as you pull him further in and he drinks every drop you’ll give him.
“Frankie…Joel.” You’re gasping for air as the familiar pressure builds.
A fresh wave of slick coats his tongue as he pumps his fingers deliberately, hitting that spot you know will have you seeing stars. You clamp your hand over your mouth as a deep growl rumbles in his chest. Your pussy is crushing his fingers as he picks up the pace.
Joel gently grabs your hand interlocking it with his as he leans down close to your ear. “They can’t hear you in here, Shine.” Yes they can
You’re teetering on the edge and you want more, you need more. He sucks hard on your clit as he presses down on that bundle of nerves and you’re a sobbing mess as you come undone.
“I knew you wanted a taste from the moment you laid eyes on her.” Frankie pulls his fingers out and stands between your legs. He leans over you and yanks Joel towards him as you watch their tongues dance above you. Joel lets out an obscene moan as he tastes every remnant of you on Frankie.
Your dreams couldn’t compare to the erotic display in front of you as the two men embrace. It takes your breath away as you finally seize hold of the missing piece.
They break away from the kiss and look down upon you and both have a look of admiration in their eyes. Frankie pulls your skirt down as Joel helps you sit up and if not for their hands on you you’re sure you’d fall over. He wraps a steady hand around your waist and helps you off the desk as he drops to one knee to slowly pull your panties back up, securing them in place.
Much to his delight he knows any meetings in this office will surely be his favorite and you’re sure they will be your demise.
“I believe you both have jobs to do.” Joel sits back in his chair with his hands behind his head and you hear Frankie huff out a laugh.
You start to respond but Frankie grips your chin between his thumb and forefinger and captures your lips in a fervent kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue as it dances with yours.
Everything he does seems to make you breathless.
He takes your hand in his as he leads the way out of the office. “Come on mi Luna, time to get to work.”
****
You don’t make eye contact as you head straight for the bar, busying yourself with tasks that you’re sure Charity has already completed. It couldn’t hurt to double check.
Frankie posts up at his usual spot at the end of the bar with his leg propped on the sink as he winks over at Santi.
“What the fuck was that.” Benny looks over at Will who can’t seem to hide the smirk on his face.
I was loosing steam on this and then got a really sweet message in my inbox. Just remember if you really like a story, any comment or reblog keeps the writer writing. Sometimes it gives us that push to just keep going. 🤍
warnings: all disturbing theme's common to the Handmaid's Tale, will specify chapter by chapter. canon divergence. the apocalypse is more recent because i chewed up the timelines and spat them out.
summary: When civilisation fell in the wake of cordyceps, another rose from the ashes. The Republic of Gilead took the opportunity while the world wasn't looking to rebuild, kidnapping travellers and children to restore the birth rate and create their ideal society.
coming soon, ehehehe :D... read something else while you wait?
