#pulled towards each other under the same sky ❤️

[jobean12-blog]

Up for a little game?🤭🤭

How would you meet:

Mob!Bucky, Vampire!Bucky and/or Barista/Baker!Bucky

And how would they ask you out. Or would you ask them out?

Bloody Kisses

Pairing: Vampire!Bucky Barnes x female reader

Word Count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky finally makes you his.

Author's Note: SYDNEY! I've had Vampire!Bucky on my mind with all these new pics of him looking so yummy and then you sent this and I was like eeeeeeee here's my sign! So this is how you would meet and he would definitely be the one making all the moves. Vampire AU is an absolute favorite of mine so I can never get enough of it! Thanks so much for thinking of me and sending this little thot in! Hope you've had a lovely weekend and you enjoy this! HUGS!🥰❤️🥰Thank you all for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!

Warnings: Bucky is irresistible in every way and he wants you. Mentions of blood, tension, some softness.

You’re mid conversation when you sense the change. It’s as if the stale air has been sucked away and replaced with something more tangible, something seductive.

Natasha’s eyes are focused on whatever is beyond your shoulder, toward the entrance of the hall.

Everyone around you seems to be looking in the same direction, so you place your drink down and turn.

A man stands just inside the arched doorway, his black jacket draped over his shoulders, the garment fitted perfectly and accentuating their broad width. His long fingers splay against the lush fabric, a gold ring glinting under the light of chandeliers, and his covetous blue eyes focused on you.

“Do you know him?” Natasha asks.

“No,” you breathe out, nearly swaying on your feet. “But I’m going to make sure I get to know him.”

An inexplicable awareness races across your skin coupled with a heat only he can set ablaze. He approaches and your pulse quickens, the urge to run into his arms something you need to fight against.

He wears all black, from his tight-fitted turtleneck down to his shined shoes and his strong jaw is shadowed with dark hair but his skin, it glows, smooth and soft.

When he walks toward you, he moves with such a sensual purpose that you notice the other women around you swooning.

But he makes no sign that he notices. His eyes stay trained on you, hungry and determined.

Without removing his gaze from yours, he takes your hand in his and brings it to his lips, turning it over and kissing the inside of your wrist, savoring the rapid pulse of your blood.

His lips linger there, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment before they open and he smiles, turning your hand over to kiss your palm and then finally, each of your fingertips.

“You taste divine,” he whispers.

Your breath catches in your throat at the forwardness of his words.

You barely hear Natasha’s gasp, this man’s very existence consuming your every thought and somehow you know it’s the same for him. He’s oblivious to anything but you.

He speaks his name, hushed and soft along the shell of your ear, before he pulls you away from the crowd.

“Walk with me?” he asks as he leads you toward the glass doors at the back of the room.

You nod and fall into step beside him, taking his offered elbow.

The fragrance of the night hits you the moment you step outside, the lush gardens on the estate in full bloom and the full moon bright and silvery in the dark sky.

“The stars are beautiful tonight,” you muse as you look up.

“Mm,” he hums, and you bring your eyes back down, feeling the weight of his stare.

It’s hard to look away and you easily fall deeper into an intimacy that you can’t seem to recover from.

“And yet you shine brighter than any,” he murmurs, tucking you closer and brushing his thumb across your bottom lip.

You tremble in his arms, the feeling heady and addictive.

“How come I’ve never seen you before?” you ask as you walk deeper into the gardens.

“And yet it’s as if I know your heartbeat better than any melody that has touched my ears.”

You would swoon if you didn’t have the strength of his arms around you, but some part of your head still remains clear enough to say, “that didn’t answer my question.”

He just smiles and plucks a white flower from the nearby plant as you pass it and holds it under your nose.

“It smells amazing,” you whisper.

“Queen of the night,” he explains. “It only blooms under the cover of darkness and often wilts with the rising sun.”

Your mouth dips into a frown as you look down at the beautiful flower. “So, we can never see it bloom in the sun?”

He takes the stem from your hand and tucks it into the breast pocket of his jacket.

“No,” he says, tucking two fingers under your chin and bringing your gaze to his. “But the night offers so much to be in love with and yet, never asks for anything but our company.”

You let his words sink in and a small smile teases your lips.

His fingers trace their outline, his touch delicate but completely consuming.

Your lips part with a gasp and you feel his body tense against yours, his gaze wandering over your face and down the delicate column of your neck.

His fingertips fall, slowly tracing the outline of your throat and his thumb presses against your wildly beating pulse.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lifting his dark lashes to look you in the eyes.

“No,” you whisper and press yourself closer.

He releases you and pulls you further down the path, bathing you in the shadowed recesses of the overgrowth of plants.

Your back hits the stone wall, the feel of the cool leaves brushing along your skin.

His features look stronger here in the shadows, hard, thrown into sharp relief under the obscured glow of the moon. His cheekbones resemble carved stone, his eyes dark, his lips lush and exaggerated.

He gives you no time to hesitate, gripping your neck, his palm cool and steady while his thumb presses to the hollow of your throat.

It’s possessive and sends a silent thrill up your spine.

A smart girl would push him away. Pretend she’d rather be somewhere else and run for the safety of the light, the safety of the crowded party. r

Instead, you lift your chin and meet the slight dip of his head, your noses brushing and your breath catching.

“I don’t usually meet men like this,” you say. “I hardly kiss on the first date.”

You swallow and close your eyes, opening them again to find him smiling down at you.

“I know,” he says, unbothered. Undeterred.

He licks his lips before he kisses you, innocent and soft. You moan into the kiss, swallowing his mumbled whispers of praise.

Your skin tingles and a heat builds inside your chest, pushing down into your belly where it pools low, down between your legs. You want him so badly you feel restless and urgent, a need you can’t explain clawing in your throat.

You dig your hands into his hair, holding him to you, barely letting him move a breath away.

But it’s all a ruse. He pulls free of your grip easily, the power he holds undeniable, and looks at you with a passion burning in his eyes.

“I have waited a lifetime for you,” he murmurs against your mouth, trailing his lips along your jaw.

Your head falls back against the wall, exposing the soft skin that flutters violently over the flow of your blood.

He kisses softly under your ear, once, twice, and then slides his mouth lower, sucking on your skin until you’re arching into him. The first pierce of his fangs is nothing but euphoria and when he begins to gently suck you cry out his name.

The sip is barely enough to satisfy him and with a great effort he pulls away, lips stained red and blue eyes anchoring yours.

“And all the lifetimes we’ll share will never be enough.”

His words make little sense to you now, your entire existence being slowly devoured by his every touch.

When his large hands grip your hips and he drags you into him again, you go willingly, the sharp sting at your throat setting you ablaze.

This time he doesn’t hold back, drinking you in until your pulse slows, and your eyes begin to dim. You fall limp in his arms, and he gently releases you, trailing a delicate finger along your cheek before he cuts into his wrist and holds it above your parted lips.

“Drink,” he whispers.

You’re weak at first but with his gentle coaxing you suck harder, your strength returning as the taste of his blood moves through you. Revives you.

A feeling like you’ve never experienced before fills all your senses, throbbing in your lips and fingers, in your very skin. And when you meet his eyes once again it’s with new sight, his long fingers reaching up to trace your cheek.

“You,” he whispers, brushing his bloody lips along yours, “are mine for eternity.”

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Sunset Serenity (Fluff)

Rise!Leonardo x reader

A/N: My first ROTTMNT x reader!💚 It’s a short one, but I thought it was a cute idea to start out with. I have so many ROTTMNT ideas, and hopefully I’ll get to write on the soon❤️💙💜🧡

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Warnings: None💙 (other than my horrid spelling)

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The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the forest. The turtles, along with you, decided to take a break and enjoy a peaceful evening by the river. The four turtles and you found yourselves perched on the edge of the riverbank. The gentle murmur of the water and the fading sounds of the world around you created a serene atmosphere.

As you sat next to Leo, you couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty of the setting sun. The sky transformed into a canvas of warm hues - a breathtaking masterpiece that mirrored the colors in Leo's eyes. Those god damn eyes, that you had found yourself staring at more times than you’d like to admit.

"So, how will everyone rate my forest idea?" Donatello asked, breaking the peaceful silence, resting on the sun bed and sipping on a cool drink that had emerged from his battle shell. “Great? Fantastic? Absolutely genius?”

"It’s awesome!”, Mikey chimed in with a grin. “But I gotta say, this sunset makes this day so much more awesome!”

“It really does”, Raph said, his eyes fixed on the horizon, resting on his shell with a content smile.

Leonardo nodded in agreement before he turned to you, a soft smile on his face. "And how about you? How's your day been?"

You returned his smile, appreciating the concern in his tone. "It's been great, Leo. A bit hectic, but moments like these make it all worth it", you said, remembering the absolute chaos that had been the four brothers finding a good place to set up camp in the forest.

Leo hummed at that answer, his eyes lingering on you for a moment, before he turned back towards the sunset.

The turtles settled into a comfortable quiet, each lost in their thoughts as the sun continued its descent. The river reflected the changing colors, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of peace wash over you.

The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, leaving behind a canvas of stars above your heads. The turtles and you stood up, stretching after the peaceful interlude, getting ready to head back towards the campsite. But you lingered for a moment, looking at the stars above you in awe.

Leonardo noticed this and stayed with you, watching as his brothers left, their laughter slowly disappearing between the trees, as the night settled around you like a comfortable blanket. Leo stood and looked at you for a moment, taking in your beautiful features. Your hair, your skin, your eyes, your nose, your lips. Leo could not deny the feelings that had blossomed between the two of you. Ever since the Kraang invasion, something had shifted between you and him. Your friendship had grown stronger in a way that he had never tried before. Lingering eyes and need to be near each other. And now, as he stood alone with you under the stars, he felt bravery wash over him. After the things he had been through, what he was about to do felt easy yet extremely terrifying.

In the soft moonlight, he took your hand, his touch gentle yet firm. You looked from the stars to his eyes, finding the same sparks in them as you had done in the sky.

"Thank you for being here with me", Leo whispered, his eyes locked onto yours and his thumb softly stroked your hand.

You smiled, feeling the unspoken emotions between you, just like you had done so many times these past few months. "Anytime, Leo. I wouldn't want to share this moment with anyone else".

In that quiet, intimate space, surrounded by the soft sounds of the river, Leonardo leaned in. The distance between you disappeared, and your lips met in a tender kiss. It was a moment frozen in time, a culmination of unspoken feelings and shared dreams.

As you pulled away, Leonardo's gaze held yours, a genuine smile still plastered all over his face. "I don't know what the future holds, but I do know that I want you in it".

You smiled at the slider, your hand holding onto his neck. “Good thing that I aren’t going anywhere, Leon”, you said, pulling him in for another sweet kiss under the stars.

[somekndofnature]

No Other Way #24

Hello all! So, please be patient with me, I have a little bit to say before we get to the actual story. I’ve got another one for the domaystic2022 prompt list. I’m determined to finish before the end of the year. 

I’ve decided to go back and add the number in the title of these posts so people can tell which ones they’ve read or not. I hope that helps @shikonstar I can totally understand why it would be frustrating. (I’ve been loving reading your tags by the way; makes my day 😁) (as does the tags and comments from all of you❤️ I totally haven’t expected the warm reaction these shorts have received.)

Once I finish with this challenge, I’m going to split the entire story up by fandom on AO3, but I wanted to wait until I reach the finish line. I hope you all understand; my neurotic brain won’t let me change up the formatting of each chapter in the same collection too much before I reach that goal. It would drive me insane and completely derail me.  

Anyway...I hope you all enjoy my first story about human Inuyasha. I hope to delve a little deeper into this in my longer story but here’s a taste. I won’t deny that hanyou Inuyasha is my favorite, but I love the idea of him being a little more emotional and irrational on his human nights. There’s a bit of role reversal in this story. Inuyasha gets into some trouble and Kagome comes to the rescue.  

I quoted the song that this story is based on in this fic because it just felt so apt for the moment. If I had a Spotify, I would add the actual song at the bottom but I still haven’t signed up for it. If you’re interested, go listen to No Other Way by Jack Johnson wherever you get your music. It is a really tender and bittersweet sort of love song, very relevant to the joys and struggles of an every day life shared with another person and a love that endures all of them. 

Okay...that’s enough rambling from me.  I hope you enjoy the story. It is non-explicit, sfw.   

Day 24: alt. What’s that burning smell?

Fandom: Inuyasha; modern MMA AU

Pairing: Inuyasha/Kagome

Rating: G

AO3

Resolve is Just a Concept That's as Dead as the Leaves

Kagome hurried home and glanced up at a dark moonless sky, trying to shake off the lingering frustration from her work day. When she had taken the part-time position at the student library, she had never expected to be so labor intensive. Nor had she expected to get home this late. She looked at her watch; it was nearly nine. Good thing she had remembered to text Inuyasha and tell him she would be running late. She could just imagine the amount of grief he would have given her if he had waited at her bus stop that long.  

Her pace quickened as she approached their building and hit the button for their apartment, hoping Inuyasha would buzz her in. Nothing happened… 

Kagome frowned; he had to be home. He hated leaving the apartment on his human nights.  She pressed the button again, holding it down for a little longer. When she was answered with silence, she dug into her purse, searching for her keys in the bottomless pit. Groaning when she couldn’t find them, Kagome pulled the bag in front of her and held it open under the muted light. There at the very bottom her keys shined back to her; illusive little jerks. She yanked them out and waved the key fob over the lock, pushing through the door.  

Kagome headed toward the stairs, bypassing the mailboxes. She could check it later. Right now, she was a little more concerned about why Inuyasha had gone suspiciously silent. That was never a good indication; either something had gone horribly wrong or…he was sulking.  

She couldn’t really blame him for being so morose on the nights that he was human. In her mind–and only in her mind–Kagome likened to a condensed version of her monthly cycle, when she was cranky, emotional, and just didn’t feel like herself. Not that she would ever dare to voice that comparison outloud; she could just imagine Inuyasha’s reaction. Still, it helped her have more patience with him. She could endure his grumbling and extra prickliness for a night. More often than not, they ended up snuggled on the sofa, watching TV or playing games until the wee hours of the morning, amid his muttered complaints about being weaker, slower, tired. 

Kagome sighed and slowed on the last flight of stairs, rolling her sore neck as a mild exhaustion crept over her. Maybe she could coax him into a few hours of sleep tonight. Kami knew she needed it. 

She pushed through the entrance to their floor and immediately knew something was wrong. A worrying smell was growing stronger the closer she came to her apartment door. Kagome shoved the keys into the lock and it opened into a cloud of smoke.  

“Inuyasha!” she called, abandoning her bags in the entryway and letting the door slam closed behind her. “Inuyasha! What’s that burning smell?” 

“Nothing!” She heard him shout from the direction of the kitchen.  

Kagome coughed and waved a hand in front of her face as she rushed towards the sound of his voice. “Inuyasha!” 

She rounded the corner, eyes going wide at the six inch flames billowing up from the pan on the stove. Inuyasha stood on the opposite side of the kitchen at the sink, sprayer in hand ready to flip on the water.  

“No, no, no,” Kagome cried out as she snatched the lid off the counter and dropped it over the skillet, flipping off the burner in the process. 

Grabbing a towel, Kagome scooted the pan off the heat, holding the lid tightly in place. When it was clear that the fire was smothered, she released a held breath, but it was too soon to relax. The shrill sound of the smoke alarm was still ringing through the apartment and her head.  

“Help me open the windows,” she shouted at Inuyasha over the din.  

He nodded back at her, jaw stiff as he stomped to the balcony door and slid it wide open. Kagome did the same to the two windows in their bedroom and grabbed a couple pillows off the bed before joining him at the open door. She shoved one into his hands and together they fanned the smoke out of their apartment. After several long minutes, the excruciating noise went quiet.  

Kagome blew out a relieved breath before tossing a smile to her partner that he didn’t return. “Well, that was an exciting welcome home.” 

“Exciting?” He scowled at her, his dark gray eyes hard and flinty. “What about that was exciting? I nearly burned the fuckin’ place down!” 

“It was an accident,” she replied in an even gentle tone. “They happen–” 

“Yeah! To humans!” 

“To everyone,” she assured him, trying her best not to let his sharp tone ruffle her. “Why should you get to be immune?” 

He dropped his gaze and growled under his breath, sounding less guttural than normal but no less formidable. 

“Inu–” she whispered while reaching out to him.  

He shrugged off her touch, snatching the pillow from her hands and disappearing into the bedroom. 

Kagome sighed and wandered back into the kitchen to assess the wreckage. There were black scorch marks surrounding the stove, but it looked like the cabinets above and ceiling received the brunt of the damage. They would probably both need a new coat of paint. 

There was water everywhere. It looked like Inuyasha had been battling that blaze for at least a few minutes before she arrived. Kagome shook her head; why didn’t he just grab the fire extinguisher from under the sink? That’s what it was there for! Her brow twitched in irritation but she took a deep breath, striving to be more understanding. He must have been panicked and just a little bit scared; the thought made her heart ache.  

Inuyasha returned a few seconds later, eyes still downcast and contrite hands held behind his back. Kagome looked him over with fresh eyes. The inky black bangs around his face were more scruffy than usual, a few strands no doubt falling victim to the flames. His dark red shirt was streaked with black and had several holes, revealing patches of irritated skin beneath.  

“Inu?” she asked gently. “Are you hurt?” 

“M’fine,” he mumbled, hunching his shoulders. “I’m sorry about the–” 

“I don’t care about that,” she interjected, as she crossed to his side. “Are you okay?” 

“I said I’m fine!” he snapped without looking at her. 

Kagome pursed her lips, trying to rein in the retort crawling its way up her throat. “Then can I see your hands?” 

His scowl deepened, hiding more of his arms behind his back. 

“Inu, please? I just want to make sure you’re alright.”  

After several long moments he complied, holding his hands out in front of her. Angry red burns streaked his arms but his hands were the worst. White blisters had already formed all over his palms, several torn open and oozing clear liquid, no doubt thanks to his admirable efforts to help. He must be in so much pain. 

“Puppy,” she breathed, tears already gathering in her eyes. 

“It’s fine,” he replied in a sullen tone, already trying to hide the injuries from her again. “It’ll be gone tomorrow.” 

Kagome wordlessly grabbed his elbow, leading him towards the sink, and flicked on the tap. She drew his damaged and trembling hands under the water, cooing in nonsensical reassurances as she cupped some liquid in her palms and poured it over his arms as well. Inuyasha released a relieved breath, the tension in his clenched jaw dissipating the longer she held him under the cool stream.  

“Little better?” she asked, rubbing her damp palm across his back in soothing circles.  

He nodded, lips still tight in a thin line.  

“Come on,” she said, giving him a gentle nudge. “Let’s get you patched up.” 

“But the kitchen–” he protested, giving a significant glance to the destruction surrounding them.

“Is not as important as you.” She slipped two of her fingers into one of the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him in the direction of their bedroom. “Don’t argue, puppy.” 

Perhaps sensing that she would not would not be swayed, Inuyasha acquiesced and allowed her to lead him to the bed. 

“Arms up,” she instructed, helping to remove the remnants of his ruined shirt. 

Kagome pulled it over his head, sending the heavy weight of his long dark hair falling down his back. She dropped his shirt to the floor and frowned, brushing her fingers near the reddened skin on his chest and abdomen. It was nowhere near as bad as the burns on his hands and arms but it would still sting.  

Kagome leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss next to one wound. “Poor baby.” 

“Stop fussing.”. 

“Hush,” she chided. “It’s my job to fuss over you when you’re hurt. Now sit down, I’m gonna grab some medicine and bandages for those burns.”

“Keh,” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You’re wasting your time. They’ll all be gone in the morning.” 

“Well there’s no reason you need to suffer for the rest of the night.” 

He met her eyes in a silent challenge. 

Kagome raised a dark brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Inuyasha, sit.” 

He ground his teeth together but still dropped onto the mattress.

She nodded and spun on her heel, rushing into the bathroom and grabbing the well-used first aid kit. When she returned, Kagome bit back a tender gasp at the familiar picture he created, slouched on the bed with a petulant frown etched in place. He looked years younger, more like the vulnerable boy she grew up with, instead of the strong and fearless hanyou he was now. 

Her brows drew together in sympathy as she approached, placing the kit beside him and flicking it open. Kagome dug out a tube of burn cream, hoping it would be enough to soothe some of his pain.  

“Lemme see your hands,” she said, squeezing out a line of medicine onto her fingers.  

Inuyasha lifted his palms up for her inspection and winced as she slathered the cream on his skin with featherlight strokes. It wasn’t until she worked her way up to his wrists that he finally released a pained hiss.  

“Shh, shh, shh,” she cooed, gentling her touch even further as she finished up his arms. “It should start feeling better in a few minutes.” 

Kagome wiped away the last of the cream from her fingers before grabbing a few packets of special bandages and placing them over the worst of the blisters and charred skin. As she pulled out a roll of linen gauze and knelt in front of him to start wrapping his arms and hands, Inuyasha broke his silence. 

“Why am I more angry than you?” he asked in a quiet tone.  

Kagome didn’t look up, hiding a small smile as she continued about her task. “Because the apartment doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re okay. Because you’re embarrassed and probably telling yourself that it wouldn’t have happened any other night.” 

“It wouldn’t have.” 

She shrugged. “Who knows?”

“I do,” he insisted. “If I had been able to smell right, I would have known that something was burning sooner.” His leg started bouncing in agitation. “I only left it alone for a few minutes. By the time I got back, it was already on fire. Then, I sprayed some water on it to try and put it out, but it just got bigger.” 

Kagome gave a sage shake of her head as she tucked the end of the gauze around one wrist and switched to the other hand. “Never throw water on a grease fire. That just spreads it around. You want to smother it…or you could have used the fire extinguisher.” 

“I’m a fucking idiot!” he bit out, glancing heavenward. “How the hell did I forget that?” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. It happens in the heat of the moment, Inu.” 

“But I put that there…for you.”

“Yes, I remember.” 

“Because you’re the accident waiting to happen.”  

She took a calming breath, finishing up the last of her work and tucking in the end of the wrapping. “How sweet of you to remind me.” 

“But that’s exactly what I’m talking about,” he said as she stood to her feet. “Shouldn’t you be more smug?” 

Kagome tossed him a confused look as she gathered up the trash and threw it into the small bin by the dresser. “What good would that do?” 

“I don’t know,” he replied. “It would put me in my place, that’s for damn sure.”  

She scoffed, stepping between his spread legs to run her fingers through his hair. ‘Inuyasha, do you really think I’m so petty? I don’t want to put you in your place; I just want to help you. I don’t feel smug or angry or any of the things you seem to think I should feel. I feel worried about you.” She lifted one of his hands, placing a kiss against the bandages. “I hate it when you’re hurt.”

“Keh, stop blubbering,” he muttered. “I’ll be fine.”

‘I know, but that doesn’t stop you from hurting now,” she explained, grabbing up the burn cream again. “Stand up, I need to get your stomach.” 

Inuyasha stood to his feet, waving her away. “It’s fine, that’s not as bad.” 

“Be still and let me put this medicine on, Inu.” 

He grumbled but didn’t fight her as she swiped it onto his tender skin, the muscles jumping at her touch.  

“Better?” she asked, screwing the cap back on the tube and packing the first aid kit away. 

“Yeah, yeah, I told you I’m fine, woman.” 

“Don’t snap at me. I’m trying to take care of you.” 

“Toss me a new shirt then.” 

Kagome rolled her eyes and reached into the dresser on her way back to the bathroom, pulling out a fresh one from the drawer before throwing it at him. Inuyasha caught it from the air just as stepped through the door, putting the kit back in its place beneath the counter. By the time she returned he was fully dressed and pulling his long black hair from beneath his collar. 

She approached him, smoothing her hands over his chest. “There, you’re all taken care of. So now, we can worry about the kitchen.” 

“I’ll clean it up.” Inuyasha wrapped his arms in a loose circle around her waist.

“We will clean it up,” she corrected, rising on tiptoe to plant a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Then we can order out for dinner. Sound good?” 

He nodded, still seeming a little down.  

“Come on,” Kagome said, plucking at his shirt. “If we tackle it together, we’ll be done in no time.”

It still took them over an hour before they finally decided that it was the best they could do without a much needed trip to the hardware store. The cabinets and ceiling were still stained a blotchy black brown and the burnt  pan was dropped into the sink to soak. Kagome was still hopeful that they might save it.  

Inuyasha remained quiet and downcast, only speaking when it was strictly needed. It took a monumental amount of restraint not to prod at him, checking the urge to ask if he was okay every few minutes. She knew it would drive him crazy but Kagome only grew more unsettled the longer the silence went on.  

It wasn’t until after dinner, when they were cuddled in bed in the wee hours of the morning that she finally began to relax. Inuyasha was lying between her spread legs, arms resting at her sides, and face nuzzled into her cleavage. He took a deep breath and released it on a weary sigh, mumbling against her skin.

‘What was that?” Kagome asked.

He lifted his head, resting his chin on her breast bone. “Thank you…for rescuing me.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Inu.”

“Of course I do,” he replied, watching his finger trace patterns into the skin over her heart. “You saved my ass.” 

“Well, you’re saving mine enough,” she said, threading her fingers into his hair. “Sometimes, it’s nice to be the one protecting you..”

Inuyasha’s eyes slipped closed, leaning his head into her touch. “What’re you saying? You want me to burn down the apartment more often?” 

“You didn’t burn anything down,” Kagome chuckled. “It was really more of a charring.”

“Thanks,” he said in a dry tone, moving his head around until her fingers found the right spot. “I’m sorry, these new moon nights are such a pain.” 

“You’re not a pain,” she soothed, tenderness swelling in her heart as she scratched her nails through his hair just behind his human ear. “You’re still my puppy, even when you’re human. I’ll always take care of you, Inu.” 

Wide gray eyes glanced up at her. “I love you,” he whispered, vulnerability layering his voice.

“I love you, too,” she responded immediately, coaxing him to lay more comfortably against her chest. “Try and relax, puppy. Everything is fine and there’s only a few more hours until sunrise.” 

Inuyasha settled his weight more firmly against her, releasing a contended groan. 

Kagome went back to drawing her fingers through his glossy hair, singing out a soft melody. “Now, please close your eyes, baby, please get some sleep. And know that if I knew all of the answers, I would not hold them from you know all of the things that I know. We told each other…there is no other way. Mmm-mm-mmm.” 

Inuyasha sighed, breaths growing deep and even the longer she sang. Kagome held him through the rest of the night, soothing him back down every time he became restless. By the time the light of dawn graced their windows, both hanyou and human were snoring softly, tangled together in a dreamless embrace.

[xxcatzladyxx]

? x Reader | Past love | Modern AU

Hello everyone! ❤️

Here is an new oneshot. It's a little sadder. I didn't know who to assign the oneshot to at first. But I found a scapegoat. You can definitely read out who it's supposed to be about.

Have a good read!

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It is evening. The sun bathes the sky in a warm orange. You spontaneously decide to go for a walk to clear your head. Lately, nothing seems to be going right for you. At work, your boss is all over you. He is never satisfied with you, and you feel like you are working for your colleagues. Privately, things aren't much better for you either. Every date you have ends in chaos. You only meet idiots. Your motivation has packed its seven things and left you in the lurch. Your apartment looks like a pigsty. Your laundry basket is overflowing with clothes, your sink is piled high with dishes and your apartment has been taken over by spiders. You don't even recognize yourself anymore. When you look in the mirror, you are looking into the eyes of a complete stranger. Pale, sallow skin, bags under your eyes and tired eyes greet you every day.

You are already walking a few laps in the park when suddenly a little girl comes towards you. She has long black hair and dark blue eyes. She reminds you strongly of someone you have banished from your memory for quite some time. The girl runs straight into your arms. She looks up at you with heavily wept eyes. She cries her heart out. She wipes her eyes with her hands. It is no use. Like a river, tears run down her cheeks, which are already softened by all the salty water. You crouch down in front of her and gently stroke her hair.

"What's the matter, little one? What are you doing here at this hour? And why are you crying?" you ask the girl in a calm, gentle tone, so as not to scare her. She sobs loudly.

"I..I lost my father and I can't find him," she says through her tears. You take her gently in your arms and gently stroke her head. Her tears stop with each passing second. She gradually calms down and you offer your help in finding her. Hesitantly, she reaches for your hand.

After half an eternity, you find her father. Your breath catches in your throat. You know him. You have actually banished him from your life. However, your fate has other plans. God does not mean well with you and has apparently found fun in tormenting you. The young man before your eyes was your first great love. But that is not it yet.

"[y/n]!" he shouts. You stand rooted to the spot. Why is he calling your name?

"Daddy!" the girl next to you calls back. You understand instantly. She has the same name as you. So he gave her your name. Your heart tightens painfully.

"You have a very nice name!" you say to the little girl. You let go of her hand, turn and leave. She reaches out her hand to you. A soft 'wait' escapes her lips. You don't hear it anymore. Your father reaches her and pulls her into a warm embrace.

"There you are. I was so worried about you," he says, hugging his daughter closer.

"Daddy, where did the woman go? I still want to thank her. She helped me look for you," the girl asks as she looks to her father with her big blue eyes.

"What woman?" he asks, confused. He looks around the area to see if he can see one. But to no avail. You're already out of sight. The girl describes you perfectly and raves about how nice you were to help her without hesitation.

With your description, almost everything falls out of the young man's face. Had he really missed the chance to see you again? Did you even want to see him again? After everything that had happened between you two? He knows he's not an easy character. You felt you were the only one who took him as he is. And what did he do? He disregarded your feelings. For a woman who had raised him over and over again. The woman with whom he had fathered a daughter who now bears your name. Maybe giving her that name hadn't been such a smart idea after all. He was going to regret it even more bitterly than he already did. The daughter's mother was not at all pleased with the choice of name. She had left him as a result and now lives as a single father.

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I hope you like it! Any requests? Write me. Please also with a scenario. I don't bite.

Read you next time!

Your Wolfi 🐺

[weiying-lanzhan-fics]

Let Me Lose My Shadow by Harleydoll

So sweet, adorable, and soft! 🥰❤️

Quotes:

A shadow passes over Wei Wuxian’s laptop, and he stops typing, fingers poised over the keys. In his periphery, he can see a sky blue messenger bag, and he smirks, a flirtatious remark already forming on his lips. Before he can utter a single word, though, Lan Zhan lifts Wei Wuxian’s legs up by his crossed ankles, sits down on the couch, and settles Wei Wuxian’s calves in his lap. His own silver laptop is opened and balanced on Wei Wuxian’s shins, and while Wei Wuxian continues to gap at the absolute audacity of his actions, Lan Zhan appears entirely focused on his homework.

“Lan Zhan!”

No answer. Wei Wuxian eyes him over the edge of his own laptop, taps his toes together to get Lan Zhan’s attention. “Lan Zhan!”

Lan Zhan’s eyes slide towards Wei Wuxian, then back to his screen, and Wei Wuxian pulls a face, which Lan Zhan deliberately ignores.

“What, you decide to use me as a lap desk and won’t even say hello?”

Another sidelong glance, an almost imperceptible twitch at the corner of Lan Zhan’s mouth. “Hello, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian stares at him for a long moment, incredulous. Is this really the same Lan Zhan from the last couple of weeks? The one that avoids physical contact with everyone, especially Wei Ying, at all costs, and whose ears burn bright red when Wei Wuxian flirts with him? Is....is this him flirting back?

————

Wei Ying orders for them both, and then slips under Lan Wangji’s arm and hugs his waist, bringing them flush against each other while they wait.

“You seem a little on edge. We can take this to go, if you want.”

Lan Wangji nods, grateful, not for the first time, how quickly Wei Ying has become attuned to his moods. “I need to shower. Change.”

Wei Ying walks him back to the dorms, and when Lan Wangji asks him to come up, he stumbles and trips over his own feet. Lan Wangji catches him just before he falls, ears pinking. He should want to be alone right now. There is no reason for Wei Ying to be in his room while he completes his morning routine, other than that Lan Wangji is not yet ready for them to be apart.

For the first time in his life, being alone holds no appeal to him. He craves Wei Ying’s company, his proximity, his light. It’s strange, and new, and a bit alarming, to be honest, but he takes comfort in knowing that Wei Ying is just in the other room while he runs the water for a shower.

He emerges forty-five minutes later, hair still damp and pulled back into a loose, low ponytail, yesterday’s clothes traded for comfortable linen pants and a sky blue t-shirt beneath his white cardigan.

“Feel better?” Wei Ying is sitting cross-legged on his bed, sketching away in his notebook, and he glances up to beckon Lan Wangji over.

M, 56k

Summary:

Lan Wangji has always been good. He is a good nephew, a good brother, a good student. He excels in all of his classes, he obeys the etiquette of his household, and he does not speak out of turn.

Good, Lan Wangji has come to realize, is just another word for boring.

Or, Wei Wuxian just wants to do cute fall shit with Lan Zhan <3

[milla-frenchy]

The only fic where I wanted them to kiss, more than I wanted them to fuck (even if I wanted them to fuck, of course 😏 because it's raider, right? 🖤)

When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed. 

I don't remember if I ever said I loved this dog, but I love him ❤️🐕

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black. 

I love your writing 🖤

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

I felt bad for both of them, for different reasons. She wanted to please him, and he's hurt? about Tommy

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

I had to quote this entire paragraph because… it's incredible how much it says about Joel, via Carter. How much Joel loves sweet pea, would do anything for her. You have no idea how much it made me emotional to read this. So, thank you SO MUCH for writing this. I love him even more now (yes, it's possible, even if I didn't know I could). I would defend this man against the whole world if I had to.

the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.  

I feel you, sweet pea 😁

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips.

No way, Jill you bitch 😮😦😤

his eyes sparkle [...] It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.  

Good boy, baby, I love you raider 💕💕💕💕💕

“That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands. 

Excuse me but wtf man? What makes you think you're in charge here?

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,”

I love you so much baby pea 💕💕

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself.

Yes and it's beautiful 😏🫠❤️😎 (loved how she didn't want Joel to touch her, the same way he didn't want Harold's blood on her 🖤)

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?”  “Makin’ it. .  .” 

I could have fn cried when he repeats what she said, at this moment, Toxic 🥹

In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go. [...] the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.

🫠🖤🖤🖤

You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him. 

Fuck that's so hot (also, he let her ride him, holy shit!)

He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head.

Oh my fn god... 🫠🫠🫠

You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back. It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.

Fuuuuck I'm gonna cry it's so sweat and so hot, I can't 🥹

You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest.  He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.  

Fuck, fuck, fuck 🖤🫶 (omg can't believe I wrote all that...)

Bodies.

7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader

reader has no physical description, pics are for mood

raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut) SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but it recovers, and Joel takes a big step. xoxo A/N: Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. This would be too long but I appreciate so many of you. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs. WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel. LMK if I missed any.

The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear. 

Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts.  The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed. 

-

Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black. 

“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts. 

Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.

“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him.  The look on his face makes your stomach turn. 

“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.

“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.

You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”

Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.” 

Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground.  His face becomes studious. 

“What,” you ask. 

“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.  

A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”

"Yeah," you whisper.  Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you? 

Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”

You perk up. “You think?” 

Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly. 

“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”

Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family. 

You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name. 

Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”

“--Rifle??” You crack a smile. 

“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle. 

“What about Bullet–”

“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back. 

As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself. 

—--Carter—--

The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day. 

You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.

The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going. 

Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back. 

“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl. 

They drop their backpacks and put their hands up. 

“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks. 

The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile.  “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.” 

Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings. 

“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder. 

“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun. 

Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.” 

They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much. 

Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel. 

-

"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel. 

"What do they want," Joel grumbles.

"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."

Joel nods. 

“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.” 

Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?” 

“Not heavily,” Carter answers. 

“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”

“You got it,” Carter says. 

—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---

You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day.  When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside. 

When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”

Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .” 

“Jill,” she pipes in. 

“Ron,” the man nods at you. 

A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious. 

Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.

Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention. 

Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.”  Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.” 

Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused.  “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.  

“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all. 

“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily. 

“Thanks,” Carter mumbles. 

Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs. 

"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log. 

Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left. 

Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up.  He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.  

Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses. 

Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.

“You can’t be serious,” you snap back. 

“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”  

“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.

“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.” 

“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust. 

You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap. 

“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!” 

Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.

Carter protests, “It’s not–” 

“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama. 

“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants. 

“Lemme see it,” Ron demands.  He stands up and points his gun at Carter.  He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.

“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster. 

Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”

“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground. 

“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs. 

“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.” 

You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.  

Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected.  Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind. 

Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head.  Jill screams. 

It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun.  You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat.  She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings.  You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits. 

“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her.  Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle. 

“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing.  “Go inside.”

You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it.  Then he turns his attention to Jill.  She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic. 

“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her.  “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.  

But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow. 

Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore. 

“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping. 

You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel. 

Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside. 

-

For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved. 

Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears. 

Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter. 

“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.

“Where's Joel?”

“Haulin’ a body.” 

“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”

He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.” 

“You promise?” you try to choke back tears. 

“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.” 

You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest.  He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water.  “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you. 

“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water. 

—--

You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty.  You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.  

You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away.  How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.

You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name.  “You okay?” 

You sniffle.  He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink. 

You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away. 

He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters. 

You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?” 

“Makin’ it. .  .” 

Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other. 

Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”

He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.” 

“You said people can’t see it.”

“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”

“Like what?” 

Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”

You nod.

Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.

“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?” 

“Sorry.”

“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks. 

“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.

“I just wanted you.”

“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”

“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist. 

“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”

“You think that's what she wanted?”

“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”

“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil. 

“Fire's out and we’re outta gas.  Gonna be cold either way.”  

You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings. 

“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum. 

Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand. 

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin. 

It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back. 

He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?” 

The coldness stings.

“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.

Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her. 

Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you. 

Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching.  When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.

After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.”  This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?

Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel.  You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.  

Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered.  You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?” 

You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.” 

“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”

You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs. 

“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.” 

Your chest flutters with butterflies. 

He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head.  He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.” 

The front door opens and shuts. 

“All good?” Joel yells. 

“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn. 

“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells. 

Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed. 

-

Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows.  He sits on the closed toilet seat again. 

“What is it?” you ask. 

“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you. 

He looks at the object in his lap. 

“It's for me?”

He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .” 

“Lemme try it on.”

He searches your eyes. “Really want to?” 

You nod.

He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh. 

“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.  

He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.

He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”

“I love it.” 

“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.” 

You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker.  “Let's go to bed.”

—-—--

You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go. 

It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart. 

You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you.  He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it. 

-

You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

That means you're doin’ it.  

You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs.  You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?” 

“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.

“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know.  But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely.  Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience. 

You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.” 

You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed. 

“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly. 

You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.

You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle.  “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause. 

You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can. 

You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t. 

Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.  

“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”

“Is it good?” you ask. 

“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him.  “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”

“Wanna make you feel good.”

“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”

You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.  

“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”

“I'm gonna finish what I started”

“That’s right,” he nods. 

His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him. 

—

Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs.  Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open.  He growls, “God damn.”  You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already. 

He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair.  You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him. 

You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you. 

You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock.  His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.

You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it.  So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest. 

“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie.  He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely. 

“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs. 

His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.

You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head.  You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up. 

Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.” 

You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours. 

“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.” 

You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.

“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you.  Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs. 

He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.” 

You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours. 

As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.  

Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest.  You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back.  It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.  

“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak. 

“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock.  His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.

When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones. 

-

After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.” 

You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest.  He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.  

Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring. 

----

----

----

----

So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.

I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.

Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon

[softliebgott]

— scottie dog

about: hello my friend 🤗 can i request "i got you something! i remember you mentioning it before...i hope you like it" with martin? THANK YOUUUUU❤️❤️ — @tvserie-s-world

warnings: i’m a lil rusty 🥹, gn!reader, war angst

word count: 683

aldbourne, england

chalk hills, rolling like an unsettled ocean, hugged the idyllic wiltshire village. enthralled, webster said he thought he’d passed out on a hollywood movie set, but england wasn’t for everyone.

along the village street you sat on a stone wall, watching jeeps pass, soldiers eating lardy cakes, carving into trees with their bayonet knives, and knocking on locals’ doors asking if their pants could be washed. dick winters walked down toward the field in his dress uniform, brasses shining.

you didn’t like being so far from home. every time you remembered how far, you shocked your own body, mere thoughts being thousands of volts. innards trembling, and warmth unable to grab hold of you, you tormented yourself with how aware you were. the world was at war. who would win? will i die? how long will i be fighting?

you tried to distract yourself by naming the colors in the morning sky.

sunrise, orange juice spilled onto the blue fabric of the sky, peeked over its blanket of green with tired eyes. sunrise remembered greeting life every morning with warm colors, but now it had to say goodbye too often each day. life bled from hundreds, thousands; too much red for the earth like too many strawberries for a stomach.

only the sunrise would see how many bodies were left behind, and you wondered who would get to go home. who would be the lucky few?

but this wounded world was still giving moments of wonder and joy. you had found someone.

the hell of camp toccoa bonded both of you like complimenting colors being sewn into a picture. you and him had felt the same needle, the hand gripping it being sobel’s. he had an image of the perfect company of soldiers, and it didn’t matter how much he twisted or stretched beyond limits, because it worked in the end. the screaming eagle would trademark history, and you were proud to wear it even if you were just a small thread among others.

you saw him, johnny martin, the man who opened the sun in your heart. he walked toward you, arms tucked behind his back. the sun gilded his eyes, and he smiled ear to ear, disarming you completely.

“hey, cookie.”

you held your chin high, smirking at what he was hiding behind him. “what have you got there?”

he revealed a tawny box tied with thick string. “i got you something. i remember you mentioning it before...i hope you like it.” he handed the gift box up to you.

“johnny,” you said, taken aback. “you shouldn’t have. you didn’t use your jump pay did you?”

he rested his arms on the stone wall, leaning forward. “it was worth it.” he winked.

eyeing him playfully, you pulled the bow, unraveling it and removing the box’s lid. your heart fumbled with its beats, and you had a telltale pinch in your eyes. inside was a stuffed animal, but it was much more than that. it was your childhood.

as if picking up a day old baby, you gingerly took the black scottie dog out. the bell on the yellow ribbon tied around the neck spoke in a clear, melodic tone—as though in greeting after so long.

vision blurred, a lump bobbed in your throat. you had lost your scottie dog years ago, and as a child you used to carry it everywhere. you had believed it was alive in some way. on cold nights, you’d tuck it under its own blanket. you’d brush the fur from its eyes, thinking it couldn’t see otherwise.

even when your love left its fur matted and eyes scratched and cloudy, you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

“i found it in an antique shop in the village,” johnny said.

“johnny martin.” gripping the scottie dog, you hopped down from the stone wall and wrapped your arms around johnny’s neck, molding yourself to him. “i’ve already won this war by having found you.”

he buried his face in the warm curve of your neck, lips warm against your skin. “and i’ve won the world.”

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