#lotta tags for this game. damn | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

spiderispunk · 1 year

Note

Okay, hear me out. I would love to see a Hangman drabble where it's like rough and dirty, trying not to get caught, sex. And there's definitely mentions in there about his dog tags or a chain or something... 🙏❤

Risky

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut 18+ [minors do not interact]. Semi-Public Sex. Unprotected Sex. Gagging (w/fingers and his chain). Light Choking. Dirty Talk (like he says some really filthy stuff). Pet Names.

A/N: Not 100% sure what came over me. I blame this on @ussgallifrey again. Seriously, they're an enabler. Heed all the warnings before beginning.

“Jake.”

“Shh, baby. I know,” he mumbles low in your ear. “But ya gotta be quiet. Wouldn’t want the others to hear us, would we? We’d be in a lotta trouble.”

The others. You can hear them all the way from downstairs. Their attention drawn towards the giant TV mounted on Mav’s wall. The Army-Navy football game was on, and though it seemed to be a sure victory for the Midshipmen, all eyes were completely focused.

All eyes except four. Yours, slightly closed and out of focus, and Jake’s, glued to the reflection of your face in the bathroom mirror.

Did you really intend to find yourself bent over the sink of the guest bathroom in the middle of the 3rd quarter? No, and Jake swears he hadn’t planned this either.

You want to believe him. You almost do. But then you think of the lewd looks he’d given you out of the corner of his eyes. How he’d pulled you on his lap– much to the protest of Fanboy and Coyote who told y’all to take it somewhere else– and kept a hand glued to your inner thigh for the first half of the game. His not so innocent comments on the car ride over. And that damn chain of his that he kept fiddling with the entire time.

It was a weakness of yours. The solid gold links that nestled on his tan skin, accentuating the curve of his neck and strong collarbones. It was one he knew damn well, and always tried to play on. He loved your reaction to it. Loved when you used it to pull him forward so you could kiss him senseless.

And you loved when it dangled in your face while he fucked you, so win-win.

A loud cheer from the others snaps you back into the present. The very real present, where Hangman’s hand is shoved down the front of your jeans.

You bite your lip, stifling the loud noise that bubbles up in your throat. “Fuck,” you whisper.

Jake pulls you back against his chest. He hooks his chin on your shoulder. “Just had to have you, baby. Couldn’t wait anymore.” He kisses the shell of your ear. “You look so good.”

“A jersey and jeans did it for you?” You tease, though it takes a lot of effort to form coherent words.

“My jersey.” Jake’s hand slips up your shirt to squeeze your breast. He rolls your pebbled nipple between his middle and ring finger. “And you know what these jeans to do me.”

Yes, you did. Maybe you weren’t completely innocent either.

Your eyes meet his in the mirror, and you smile a little bashfully.

Jake grins and nips at your jaw. His fingers swirl deftly over your clit. “Oh, honey. Don’t get all shy on me now. You put us here. Now what?”

You want to say that he was the one that suggested your shared bathroom break after discreetly feeling you up for an hour, but the only sound that left your lips was a strangled moan as he put more pressure on your clit.

“Huh, baby?” Jake presses an open mouthed kiss to your throat. “What’s it gonna be?” He starts to pull his hand away, and you grab his wrist.

“No.”

“No?”

You shake your head. “Finish what you started.”

His grin spreads. “Always do, darlin’. Always do.” Jake turns your head into a messy kiss as his hand resumes their movements between your legs.

In no time, you’re close to coming. Such is the magic of your pilot’s hands. Your knees shake, head dropping back against his large chest. A couple moans slip through the cracks of your splintered sanity.

By the third, slightly louder one, Jake slips two fingers in your mouth. You bite down on them, and a choked moan slides from Jake’s lips despite his best efforts.

“Ah shit, baby.” He grinds his hips against your ass. “Drive me fucking crazy.”

Jake’s gaze holds yours in the mirror, green eyes boring into your soul. You can’t look away. You don’t want to. Hunger and desire is written all over his features. In the clench of his jaw, in the dark, thin ring of emerald almost completely eclipsed by his pupil.

Trapped there under the weight of his stare. Held in place by the rock of his hips and the insistent rub of his fingers. It tips you over the edge.

You’re grateful for the fingers that muffle you as your orgasm crashes over you. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, your jaw falls slack.

“Holy shit,” Jake mutters, his voice slightly hoarse. “You’re so fucking hot. Practically dripping on my fingers” He pulls his hand from your jeans and sucks his finger into his mouth with an appreciative groan. “If I had more time I’d get my mouth on you, honey. Clean ya up.”

But you don’t have more time. Someone’s bound to have noticed the two of you were missing, and if they haven’t asked questions yet, they would definitely start asking soon.

Jake turns you around, lips messily slotting against yours. You can taste yourself when he licks his tongue into your mouth. His hands grip your hips tight, and he helps you up onto the granite counter. He messily yanks your jeans the rest of the way down your legs and steps between them.

You tug at the waistband of his jeans and undo his belt buckle with shaky fingers. You get it undone eventually, and Jake just barely has time to push them down slightly before you’re wrapping your fingers around his aching cock.

His eyes flutter shut, long blonde lashes fluttering against his cheek. Jake huffs out an expletive, rocking his hips forward into your hand. You kiss along the base of his throat, tongue peeking out to taste the sweat that dots his skin.

“Fuck, baby. We don’t have a lot of time,” he says.

You wrap a leg around his waist to pull him closer. “Well, you put us here,” you mimic his earlier words. “So, what now?”

Jake gives you his signature shit-eating grin. “Gonna finish what I started.” He pushes your hand away, and notches the head of his cock against your dripping pussy. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You spread your legs a bit more. “But if you don’t fuck me, I think I’m gonna lose my mind.”

He nudges his nose against yours. “Alright, alright. Easy, baby. I got ya.” He pulls your hips to the edge of the counter, and thrusts into you slowly.

Your twin chokes of reverence echo through the bathroom, and you’re thankful for the distance between the bathroom and living room. Jake’s hips move slowly at first. A steady roll of his hips that allows you to feel every bit of him. It’s breathtaking. The sinful drag of his hips. The friction as skin meets your clit. His fingertips roaming your body, touching and squeezing all over.

But it’s not enough. Not for your insatiable husband. Not for you.

“More,” you whimper. “Harder, Jake. Faster, please.”

Jake breathes harshly through his nose. “Okay. But you gotta be quiet for me, honey. Can you do that for me?”

You nod, but already your strength is fading. Sure, it would be downright mortifying if you were caught in such a compromising position, but you weren’t too confident in your ability to multitask at this point.

He can see that tiny flash of indecision in your eyes. “You can do it.” He holds you close against him as his hips pick up in speed. “I know you can.”

You pull his lips back to yours, tangling your fingers into his hair. He’s been growing it longer lately, and you’ve been loving the shagginess of it. Especially when the strands messily fall into his face like they’re doing now.

The kiss is messy. A clash of teeth and tongue. Jake tucks little grunts into your mouth, and you give him a fair share of your own desperate noises in return.

His hand slides down your body, and fits into the hallowed space between your thighs. The pressure on your clit sends lightning crackling down your spine. The high-pitched, breathy sigh leaves your lips before you can stop it.

“Darling,” Jake drawls in warning, but also makes no move to stop.

You think he enjoys this, actually. Watching you struggle to stay quiet as he does all the things that would normally make you scream. Of course he does. Why else would he sneak you to the bathroom of a full house to have sex with you, if not for the thrill of it all?

“I’m sorry. I’m trying.”

“I know, I know. It’s hard, isn’t it? Staying quiet,” He whispers, a teasing edge to his tone. “Why’s that, honey? Feels too good, doesn’t it?”

You nod.

“Need something to keep your mouth busy?” He asks with a smirk.

Again, you nod.

Jake pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “Here. Suck on this.”

Your eyes widen. It’s not the first time you’ve had this thought, but his blatant offering makes your cunt clench.

His hips stutter. “Jesus. Go on, sweetheart. I know you want to.”

You lean forward, eyes locked, and suck the golden chain into your mouth.

Jake groans with approval. “Good, baby. You’re so good. Just keep doing that while I fuck you– ah fuck.” A sudden gush of warmth floods your body at his praise. “You’re so wet.”

The filthy sound of your writhing bodies fill the room. Your cunt squelches with each snap of Jake’s hips. You’d feel embarrassed about it if it didn’t feel so damn good.

Jake’s free hand slides to the base of your jaw. He tilts your face up. “Look at me.”

With great effort, you meet his gaze. Jake looms over you, body completely covering yours. When he speaks, his lips nearly brush your own. His warm breath fans over your breath, cinnamon and whisky heavy on his tongue. You’re so close you can see the brush of freckles over the bridge of his nose.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” His fingers lightly squeeze your throat. “Feel so goddamn good, honey. Gonna make me come. Gonna fill your pretty pussy up right here. Make you walk around with it inside you all day, so you can think of me with every step you take. You want that?”

Your answer in the affirmative is a small squeak.

“Dirty girl,” Jake whispers with gravel in his voice. “My dirty girl.”

The effect his words have on your body is nearly instantaneous. Dirty talk is not a foreign concept in the bedroom, but this was a whole new side of Hangman that you definitely wanted to see again.

“Think they know we’re up here?” Jake mumbles, lip loosed by the desire that twists low in his gut. “Do they know I’m fucking you like this? That you practically begged me for it? Begged me to fuck you here, even though anyone could walk right in and see. You like it don’t you?” His question is cut off by a shameless groan. He’s not even trying to hide it anymore.

You nod. Jake is spiraling deeper into lust, and you’re just along for the wonderfully sinful ride. All you can do is hang on tight, while the thrust of his hips and his wicked words drive you insane.

“S’okay, darling. S’alright. I like it too.” His jaw clenches, eyes screwing up. His hips meet yours in a sloppy rhythm. “Don’t we make quite the pair?” He chuckles.

Your head spins. You feel like you’re on a merry-go-round going a thousand miles an hour. Each snap of his hips makes your blood boil. Each swipe of his thumb on your clit, brings you closer to that wonderful warmth.

“I’m gonna come, honey.” His voice is strained. “Want you to come too. Can you do that for me? Can you come all over me?”

The chain falls from your mouth, slick with spit. “Yes. Please.”

“I got you,” Jake whispers. “Just come for me.”

You do. You rocket over the edge. Your whole body shakes with the force of it. It shocks you into silence, that’s the only reason the bathroom isn’t filled to the brim with your hoarse cries, the only reason you’re not caught then and there.

Jake bites his knuckle, hips stuttering forward as the knot unravels in his stomach. He comes with a muffled grunt, toes curling in his boots. Fills you up to the brim and then some in waves that seem never-ending. His hips don’t stop moving, don’t stop fucking his cum back into you.

Your legs snap shut around his waist, holding him deep within you. “Oh fuck.”

“Godfuckingdammit.” Jake groans, and his hips finally still. He presses his face into your shoulder, trailing gentle kisses across his skin. Jake laughs. “Oh, Christ.”

Neither of you move for a moment, you just bask in the post-coital bliss until your ragged breathing becomes even again. You’re too full, and Jake’s too warm to pull away. Lethargy fills your body, weighing down your limbs, filling your head with smoke. You know eventually you’ll have to face the music, but you don’t want to just yet.

Jake cocks his head to the side. “I think the game’s over.”

“Probably.”

“It’s a miracle they haven’t started looking for us yet.”

“I think they know better. They might not like what they find.” You grin up at him.

Jake kisses your nose. “And uh…did you like it?”

“I did.” You brush his hair from his face. “Didn’t know you were into that.”

Despite everything he’s said and done, Jake blushes. “Yeah, I uh–” He rubs the back of his neck. “I got a little carried away.”

“No, no.” The corner of your mouth ticks up. “I liked it…a lot.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jake moves to speak again, but a knocking on the door makes you both jump. And the jump presses Jake’s still-seated cock deeper into you. Jake covers your mouth immediately, muffling the squeal you let out.

“Hey guys!” Rooster calls.

Your eyes widen. Jake shakes his head. He presses a finger to his lips.

“I know you’re in there. Everyone knows you’re in there.”

No response.

“Okay, well people are starting to ask questions, and I can only distract them for so long. Time to join the party,” he says. “Oh! The Navy won by the way. Seems like they’re not the only ones who scored.”

You don’t unfreeze until you hear his footsteps recede down the stairs.

“Shit. I guess we’re lucky they didn’t come looking for us earlier,” Jake says. “‘M gonna pull out now, honey, okay?”

You bite your bottom lip and nod. Jake slips his softening cock from your cunt. You both groan quietly– you from the emptiness that aches after being so full, and he from the sight of his cum slowly dribbling from your folds. You don’t miss the hitch in his breath, and the slight twitch of his cock.

“Don’t even think about it.” You press your hand to his chest. “We don’t have time.”

You hear the opening keys to Great Balls of Fire. Rooster really was pulling out all the stops.

“You’re right,” he admits, though he doesn’t look particularly happy about it. Jake grabs a spare washcloth and helps you clean up. “I should leave first. Probably less suspicious than if we show up together.”

You watch him tuck himself into his jeans. He’s still hard. The realization makes your mouth water.

“I’ll think of a lie on the way down. Say you weren’t feeling well, or something.”

“Good luck.” You slide off the counter and pull your jeans back up.

True to his word, you can feel Jake’s cum pool in your panties. You rub your thighs together in a way you hope is inconspicuous, but of course, Jake catches it.

He kisses your cheek. “Everything alright, baby?”

“Peachy.” You smile at him.

“Alright. I’ll see you down there.” His hand lingers on the waistband of your jeans. “Try not to get distracted.”

Jake throws you a wink over his shoulder and shuts the door behind him.

Bastard. Smug bastard. Smug bastard that just fucked you within an inch of your life in the bathroom while his friends and boss watched football. Smug bastard whose cum you can feel sliding down the inside of your thigh.

As you dab at your face with another washcloth, and try to make yourself look somewhat presentable, you say thank you to whoever ruled the universe, and a quick prayer that this won’t be the last time you see this wonderfully filthy side of your husband again.

#jake seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #hangman x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #glen powell #don't ask me the color of nothing #i seriously do not know what came over me or how i got here #but here we are

553 notes · View notes

putnamcapital · 5 months

Text

Some love for the YR writers, and their OCs

As a small gesture of thanks to the incredible creativity and generosity of fanfic writers, during this time of holiday excess and the AO3 YR tag being just lit!, I thought i’d pull together some favorites to share. Hopefully if you’ve haven’t read these fics yet, they might entice you. I know we all know and love the endless iterations of Wille and Simon, and Sara, August, and Felice, but did you know there are some truly incredible original characters in the YR fanfic library? Here are just a few of the characters that have stayed with me. Made an effort not to spoil in the descriptions! I’ve tried to spread the love across lots of writers and have tagged you if i know you're on Tumblr. And i mostly read AUs. If you’ve got other OCs you just love, please add to this!

So, in no particular order … Part 1 of ?.

Chetna from Tis the Damn Season by littelbluefish, (M, 15/15) - “in a near-constant state of dancing readiness” (i love her for that alone), also witty meddler, dispatches unwanted men with savage accuracy, pitch perfect level of snark, loves Simon to pieces.

MJ and Mario from And that’s how you make history baby by waybeforeyourtime (T, 16/?) - it’s difficult for me to choose between the two, but i think maybe the author would agree they are inseparable. MJ and Mario run Benders, a bar where Simon ends up performing. They literally jump off at the page at you. MJ, appearing as Mary Jane, gets one of the best entrances i’ve seen in a while. (“Mary Jane sat in front of the door of Benders in a crudely made replica of the Iron Throne from Game of Thrones, except it was dildos that adorned it, not swords. She wore a pale pink strapless dress, white fishnet stockings, and black patent-leather Mary Jane platforms.”) His partner, Mario’s, first words to Simon: “"I don't have time for games. Violet, kill the light.”, but it was a match made in heaven. The dialogue between these two!!! Read this fic! Run! Don’t walk!

Melvin from Simon Eriksson: Just some guy from biology (G, 1/1) by fandom_commitment_Issues (@zee-has-commitment-issues) - good student, considerate partner and father. On this list because he does deadpan so well. He kept a straight face when W huffed “I’m getting married to an idiot”.

Alba from Taking me Back (M, 6/?) by wilmonlibrarian - for being one of those too smart for your own damn good teenagers who sees straight through her own father, Simon. (Alba isn’t buying it. “So, you’re saying nothing I experience in the next few years will matter to me in the future?”) and yeah karma really is playing a terrible joke on poor W & S in this.

Luis from All the Places we’ve been (M, 10/10) by This_time_its_just_me (@in-amor-veritas) - Simon’s roommate in New York, Simon who has his own life and successful career as a singer. Gives Simon essential advice on what to wear to meet his ex (yes, you know the ex). (“Oh please, none of your clothes fit you correctly, Simón”) He works at one of NYC’s biggest fashion magazines. Think Devil Wears Prada, friends. Just the absolute funniest and most loving wingman, takes absolutely none of Simon’s bullshit or his polyester. Has entirely the correct reaction when he finds W in his bathroom.

Lotta from Heart and Homeland (M, 33/ ) by @bluedalahorse and @heliza24 - An intrepid, loyal, and revolutionary woman with a heart of gold, who holds the key to a major plot twist in this masterful AU set in the early 1800s, where Wilhelm is at the center of a fight for Sweden’s future, and everyone writes each other a lot of beautiful letters. (“Lotta sighs and giggles like we are best friends and says we should tell one another romances or fairy tales and I want to tell her that princes are not the same in real life as they are in stories.”) Don't miss this fic!

#young royals fanfic #original character #the brains in this fandom omg #the writers in this fandom omg

72 notes · View notes

millersdjarin · 1 year

Text

Some Invisible String

Chapter V: One Single Thread of Gold

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader (afab)

Rating: E (18+ only!)

Summary: Ten years after Reader left Joel for reasons he still doesn’t know, they find themselves together again in a town called Jackson. Joel has questions he’s too afraid to ask; and Reader dreads having to give the answers.

Chapter length: 4.2k

Warnings/Tags: injury recovery, light angst, SMUT, crying during sex (but in a happy way), happy ending, unprotected p in v

Chapter Four (Previous) | Series Masterlist | Fic Masterlist

notes: final chapter! thank u for reading, i hope you enjoy ❤️

ps since tlou has new fans from the show (YAY!), just a heads up that this is post TLOU part 1 and following the details of game canon vs tv show canon, so spores for example. so, spoilers ahead for the story ❤️

“See? Told you she wouldn’t believe us.”

“I do,” I find myself saying, blinking at Ellie and Joel in their kitchen like each of them has just grown a second head. “I do believe you. I just…holy shit. You can breathe in spores, and everything?”

“Yup.”

I stare at Ellie with wide-eyes. Her sleeve is rolled up, revealing her bite. I never thought I’d see a healed bite from an infected. “Jesus,” I breathe out. I reach down for her arm, then ask, “Can I?”

Ellie nods and lifts it up to meet me, letting her forearm sit in my hand. I run my finger over the scar, feeling its raised bumps and wrinkles, completely dumfounded by the fact that this is an actual infected bite but it’s not red and angry, threatening to turn its victim at any minute; it’s been there for a year and a half. It’s healed, just as if it was from a dog, or something. Except it is absolutely, without question, the kind of bite that should’ve rendered her a clicker by now.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” I let her arm go. “I assume you don’t tell anyone about this?”

Rolling her sleeve back down, Ellie shakes her head. “No. We agreed it’s safer that way. Only a few people know.”

Something warm spreads in my chest. “I’m honoured to be one of them,” I give her a smile, hoping it comes across as genuine as I mean it to. “My lips are sealed. It’s pretty amazing, though, right? Did you get bitten when you were with Joel?”

“I…no. No, it was before that. We actually met because we…”

Gently, Joel continues for her, “We were going to the Fireflies. They thought she was the key to finding a cure, but…it didn’t work out.”

The vaguest hint of a frown works its way onto my face. I study Joel where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, delicious arms folded over his chest, his jaw working away. I’ve never been able to describe what it is about him that I pick up on when he’s lying. All I know is that I know a lie from Joel when I hear one.

He looks at me like he knows that. Like he’s saying Not now.

“Damn,” I say to Ellie, then offer her a smile again, “you got a badass scar, though. Not that you can show anyone it, but still.”

She laughs a little. “I guess so.”

“So you came all the way from Boston to Wyoming together? How the hell did you manage that?”

“A whole lotta luck,” Joel says with a wry smile.

“And teamwork,” Ellie adds.

I laugh. “I’m impressed.”

“You survived on your own, too,” Ellie says. “That’s also pretty badass.”

“It’s very badass,” I agree, but resist a shudder at the bad memories from the last decade that instantly pour into my mind.

“We should get you sitting down,” Joel says, gesturing to my leg. It is starting to throb; we’ve been standing here talking about all this for a while.

I nod and start hobbling to the living room. Joel puts his arm around me to help, and to be honest I probably don’t need it, but I will take any opportunity I can get to be close to him. Our kiss from this morning is still fresh on my skin like it only just ended. I can feel his lips, his breath, his hands; a perfect ghost of him all over me.

“Ellie, why don’t you go get the horses ready, then we’ll head out for a ride? I just gotta talk to Tyler over here before we go.”

My heart leaps in my chest.

Ellie raises an eyebrow. “Who the fuck is Tyler?”

Joel gives me a smirk.

“That’s what he used to call me,” I explain with a nostalgic smile, remembering the first time he called me it. “I’m from Tyler in Texas. When we first met, all we knew about each other was we were both from Texas.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” Ellie laughs. She points her thumb towards the back door and says, “I’ll go get ready to ride. Do you wanna come with us?”

“I should probably get some rest,” I reply. “But thanks.”

Then, when Ellie is gone and out of earshot, I turn to Joel where he stands by the living room window. He’s got one thumb hooked over his belt, the light from the window shining around him, making him into a lovely silhouette. I’d ask him to come closer, to kiss me, to even just hold my hand, but I have a question first.

“So,” I say, leaning back against the sofa, “why’d you lie back there? About the cure?”

Heavily, he sighs. Steps over to me, sits down, rubs his hands over his face.

Then, he tells me.

“And…she doesn’t know,” I clarify after the whole story is out there in the open. Like a mist in the room, lingering, waiting for my reaction.

“She doesn’t know.”

I exhale. His hand is sitting on his knee now, his other running over his beard with his elbow propped on the arm of the couch.

I’m not surprised he did that for Ellie. Rushing through an entire army of Fireflies to save her life. I’m not surprised in the slightest, and I also know why he kept it a secret.

What I am, though, is so fucking in love with him that it hurts my chest; and this only makes it stronger. I reach out and take the hand on his leg, threading our fingers together.

“Do you feel that you did the right thing?” I ask, looking at his side profile.

“There ain’t a doubt in my mind,” he answers without hesitation, then turns to look at me. “I’d do it a thousand times for her.”

A smile tugs at my lips as my chest blooms with affection. I squeeze his hand, trying to come up with words that don’t just sound cheesy, that don’t sound like I’m making fun of him. “Who knew you were so soft?” I ask. Which, okay, is partially teasing. But not entirely.

He chuckles. The smile on his face is so precious to me, and I think I’ve seen it more in the past week I’ve been here than I ever did in our five years together back then. He just looks so light. Still weighed down by the weight of this world, of course, and not without his own grief or fears; but, God, he smiles like he means it. Like he’s not afraid to anymore. Like the fear of the smile ruining everything has lifted from him.

Naturally, I can’t get enough of it.

“I think you did,” he answers my question, sincere.

“Hm, I think the Joel I fell for was a little rougher around the edges,” I smirk, fully teasing now as he turns his body towards me and leans over me, brushing his hand over my cheek.

His eyes locked onto mine, he rasps, “I can still be rough around the edges. If you want me to be.”

With my hand on the back of his neck, I lean in and kiss him. Because he’s so fucking handsome, he’s here, he’s Joel.

There are still thoughts in my head that keep trying to push through; thoughts of doubt, of worry, of fear. I don’t know where this is going, where I’m going, or what I should assume about either of those things.

But with his lips moving against mine, I force the thoughts away, because I’ve waited so long for this feeling and I’m not about to ruin it as soon as it’s started.

“I gotta go,” he says against my lips, rueful. He lifts up his thumb and smoothes it over my bottom lip. “We’ll pick this up later?” He asks, hopefully flicking his eyes between both of mine.

I nod, biting my lip. “Please.”

When Joel gets back, he makes us dinner.

The three of us sit around the dining table in the living room, a candle in the middle of the table, flickering along with the fireplace across the room. It’s been two decades since I had a home-cooked meal like this; sitting at a table, inside a house, safe and warm. With people I know and trust.

Ellie and I talk about movies and music, teasing Joel for his taste in both. We talk until it’s late and Ellie is yawning while Joel tells her that maybe she should get some sleep. She protests, claiming she’s ‘not even tired’, to which Joel responds, “I’ve heard that before.”

But after a while, she gives in to the tiredness so obviously weighing at her, and stands up from the table. “Alright. I’ll see you guys in the morning. Thanks for dinner, Joel.”

“Night, Ellie,” Joel says, watching her as she walks towards the living room. “Sleep well.”

“Night,” I say with a smile. Ellie gives us both a wave, lifting her arm up high without turning back, and then she’s up the stairs and gone.

I look at Joel, and warmth settles in my chest. The light in here is warm, mostly coming from the dim lights in the living room now, along with the candlelight flickering over Joel’s face. It casts highlights and shadows and I want to reach out and touch them with my fingers, with my mouth.

Reaching across to him, I run my fingertips over his knuckles, and he smiles, twisting his hand so he can take hold of mine and squeeze.

“You want some wine?” He asks into the comfortable quiet.

“Love some,” I reply. “Can’t remember the last time I had any. Decent stuff, at least.”

He pours a deep, red wine into two glasses, and when he comes back to the table, he doesn’t sit back on his seat. Instead, he pulls away a chair and turns to me, perching on the edge of the table, his legs at the same level as my shoulders. Then he holds up his glass for me to tap mine against.

I do. “What are we toasting to?” I ask, looking up at him from under my eyelashes, drinking in more than just the wine; his heat, his hard thighs so close to my face, the way he’s looking down at me like he’s seeing me for the first time. Like we’re not living in the end of the world. Like we’re just on a regular date at his house, drinking wine after sunset.

“Think we got a lot to toast to,” he says after taking a sip. With his spare hand, he reaches out, and brushes some pieces of hair back from my face. “This, right here, for one.”

Smiling, I lean into his touch, closing my eyes. My lips press into his palm before he lays it on my cheek. “Agreed.”

His lips spread into a small, contented smile. I put my spare hand on his waist, then slide it around so it’s pressed against his back. We just drink our wine like that, sitting with a hand on each other, existing in one of the only quiet moments we’ve ever had together. It’s just us, right now. It could be that nothing else exists. Just us. Just him, leaning against the table, gazing down at me like I’m something precious he can’t take his eyes off of.

When I’ve finished the last of my wine, I put my glass down on the table, and make use of my newly freed hand to rub it up his thigh. He sighs, swallowing the last of his.

“You wanna go to bed?” I ask, letting my voice run soft and sultry.

“I’d love to,” he says, “just one thing first.”

“Hm?” I hum, pressing my forehead into his thigh, right against the denim of his jeans. His hand slides back into my hair, gently playing with it. I can feel heat rising in my belly, a need to be closer to him just thrumming through my veins.

“Don’t tell Ellie, but I’ve been working on a little somethin’ for her. The shed out back, Tommy and I have made it into her own space just for her. I thought she’d appreciate having a place to call her own.”

I look up at him and smile. “She’ll love that.”

Joel nods. He stares at me for a minute, pondering. “And…since we’re talkin’ about living arrangements…”

Dread shoots through my stomach, piercing through any of that rising arousal that his touch had ignited.

He doesn’t want me to stay.

That has to be it, right? He’s been thinking about it, too, ever since I got here. I don’t blame him; how can he ever trust me again? How can we ever—

“I was wonderin’ if you wanted to move in.”

Oh.

Well, that brought my racing thoughts to a shuddering halt.

He seems to take my silence as apprehension, because suddenly he’s nervous, trying to explain himself, “Only if you want. I know it’s…I know a lot has changed, especially today, and I really was going to offer for you to live here before we…you know.”

I swallow down the lump of emotion that has made itself at home in my throat. I’m just staring up at him, wide-eyed, probably looking like I’m on the edge of tears.

He wants me to stay.

Fucking fuck, he doesn’t just want me to stay in town; he wants me to stay with him.

“You…” I stammer. “You want me to…”

He holds up a hand like he’s trying to calm a situation, one that actually doesn’t need calming, but the look on my face probably suggests otherwise— “Now I know it’s sudden, and if you want to ask Maria for your own place, she’s already suggested some…or…unless you don’t want to stay here at all?” Doubt creeps into his features, a jolt of anxiety I so rarely see.

“No!” I manage to squeak out, tightening my grip on his jeans. It doesn’t seem to clear anything up for him; he just frowns. “I mean, no, I…I don’t want to leave,” I say, finding that I mean it. Why wouldn’t I mean it? Why the fuck would I ever want to leave this place? And now that I have Joel…

Fuck, I have Joel.

There are no words. None that are good enough, big enough, to express the overwhelming feelings that are bubbling up inside me.

Instead of talking, I stand up, lean into him, and kiss him.

He makes a pleasantly surprised noise, his hand staying on the back of my head as he lets my lips press to his, my hand going to mirror his. I open my mouth, feel him sigh when he opens his too, moving our lips together slowly but passionately. Desperately. Because it’s the only way I can think to tell him how I really feel.

Maybe in another life, I’d have said it’s too soon. That we’re rushing into things.

But we live in a world where one of us could die any day. And after everything, after all this time, I don’t want to waste any more time.

If he’ll have me—I’ll have him.

“So is that a yes?” He pulls away for a second and gives a nervous little chuckle. His thumb strokes at my cheekbone, his eyes looking down into mine, glowing in the candlelight.

I nod. “Yes, it’s a yes,” I say. The heat is back in my belly again, feeling his knee pressed up between my legs, his face so close to mine and breath blowing against my mouth. “Yes, it’s a fucking yes, Joel. God, I—” I kiss him again, because I can’t not. “I can’t believe this.”

He laughs into my mouth and kisses me quiet, bringing up his other hand to cradle the other side of my head, his fingers tangling in my hair again like they did this morning. I sigh, unable to resist, and melt at his touch. At his mouth. At him.

“Joel,” I say, breathless, “Joel, will you please take me to bed?”

He laughs again, a breathy chuckle that brushes into my mouth before trailing down my neck along with his lips, pressing closed-mouthed kisses all along my jaw. “Can you make it up the stairs?”

“For this, yes.”

When he pulls back, he’s grinning, showing his teeth and the wrinkles around his mouth and eyes. I dive in and kiss at each line, each mark of his life, everything he’s been through, all his laughs and tears and shouts and smiles—

“Joel,” I find myself whimpering against the corner of his mouth.

His hands, steady on my waist, squeeze me. “You alright?”

Tears are stinging in my eyes and nose. I try to swallow them back, press my nose into his neck. “Take me to bed,” I beg again, this time in just a breathy whisper, “Please.”

His hands are precious and gentle on the back of my head again, cradling me in his warm palms, his fingertips threaded into my hair. I’m sitting on the end of his bed and he’s bending down to kiss me, my head craning up to meet him as best I can. I’d strain to reach him forever if that’s what it took. If the only reprieve from the stretch was his hand on the back of my neck. It would be enough.

He pulls away from my lips for a second and breathes against me. “Goddamn,” he curses.

I stroke his forearms, running my fingers through the hairs there. “Yeah,” I breathe, “yeah.”

“You know how long I’ve wanted this?” He asks.

I didn’t used to. I thought he’d never want this. Want me.

But now…

I nod, and pull him down further, wanting to be closer, closer, closer. “I think I do.”

Carefully he backs me up along the bed, crawling on top of me as I shuffle up towards the pillows. I try to kiss him as we move but it ends up too clumsy and my leg kind of hurts as I’m crawling backwards, and he chuckles at my efforts, settling above me once I’m lying down.

The backs of his fingers trace down my face. He gazes down at me, his eyes glittering in the warm, dim light of his bedroom. I want to dive in, devour him, let him devour me, feel him as close as possible because I’ve wanted it for so fucking long—

But he’s so soft above me, so comforting and familiar and new all at once, and I could just as easily just stare at him like this forever, the look in his eyes, gazing like I’m something he wants. Something he needs.

“Do I have something on my face?” I tease, just a little shakily, not sure what else to say. “You’re staring.”

He shakes his head once. “Sorry. Can’t help it.”

I smile up at him, press my hand to his cheek. “Me, neither.” My other hand moves around to the back of his neck, and I dip it down below the collar of his shirt, feeling at the heat of his back, pushing it down as far as it’ll go. He stifles a moan, letting his eyes flutter closed. “Joel,” I whisper against him, pressing our foreheads together, “how many times do I have to ask you to fuck me?”

His breath hitches, catching in his throat. “You technically haven’t asked me that at all yet, darlin’,” he replies after a beat.

“Well, then, I’m asking you now,” I pull away to meet his eyes again. Lightly, I curl the hand that’s under his shirt, running my fingertips over the small of his back, digging them in just a little. “Please, Joel. Take me. I’m yours. I’m—”

He dives in before I can say anything else, opening his mouth against mine and kissing me with a new, fevered urgency. He holds himself up above me with his palms on either side of my head, and at the feeling of his tongue brushing against mine, my hips instinctively buck up to try and find some friction.

Without moving his mouth from mine, he shifts his legs, gently using his knee to push mine apart and then settling it there between them. Slowly, as he kisses me so quickly and passionately that I only just register what he’s doing, he slides his knee up and presses it against my centre.

It feels fucking incredible. I’m throbbing already, pulsing for him, desperate for more friction. Another instinct, to grind down against his thigh, pushing myself further against him as he kisses me like his life depends on it.

One of his hands moves a little so his fingertips are brushing over my temple, pushing bits of hair away from my face. I let the hand on his cheek slide back into his hair, taking a handful of it and pulling, revelling in the choked moan he lets out against my mouth. The vibration of his voice is intoxicating, and I wonder, not for the first time, how it’d feel against the place that his knee is currently pushed against.

My hand on his back scrapes again, digging my nails in probably a little too hard, but he doesn’t complain; his lips break away from mine with a loud smack, and I’m about to protest, about to pull him back in when they start to messily trail down my jaw in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses. I gasp, my mouth falling open. His mouth is so warm, so wet, I can hear him breathing through it with his nose right up at my ear, can feel the heat of his thigh where it’s pressed against me—

“Joel,” I gasp out as his mouth settles at the pulse point on my neck. He starts to suck, and I can feel just enough of his teeth that I know it’s going to make a mark, the suction pulling sparks of pleasure from my neck all down my body.

He hums in approval as I put my other hand on his waist, above his shirt this time, but starting to ruck it up, pulling it from the waistband of his jeans.

“Joel, please…”

“Mm?” He trails his lips, open and hot, back up to the underside of my jaw, and waits there. “What do you need, darlin’?”

“I need…”

Pulling himself away from me, he takes a careful hold of my hands, withdrawing them from both under and over his shirt. He takes them, entwines our fingers, then presses them down against the pillow on either side of my head. “I’ll give you whatever you want,” he promises in a low, husky voice that I have literally dreamed of hearing say that for God knows how long—“just tell me what you need, darlin’, and I’ll do it.”

My mouth suddenly dry, I swallow, gasping for air even without his lips on me. He licks his own, glancing down at my mouth, hungry. “I already told you,” I say, breathless and squeezing his hands, “I need you to fuck me.”

One side of his lovely lips quirk up into a smile. He leans down, kisses me, this time soft and close-mouthed. Then he presses our foreheads together again, and his breath is hot and fast against my face. I want to lean up into him, kiss him again, feel the burn of his beard against my skin, let it mark me up. But before I can, he whispers, “I’ve wanted to hear you say that for too damn long.”

Then his hands are leaving mine, and he leans back, pulling far enough away that I can feel the loss of his body heat. He sits against my thigh, one of his still pressed just not quite hard enough to my middle, and I’m just about to pull him back down again when he takes his hands and starts to unbutton my shirt.

Oh, fuck.

The way he does it so carefully, calloused fingers working expertly on each one, just slow enough that it drives me insane. He watches his fingers, hunger growing in his eyes, licking his lips with every inch of my skin that he exposes.

Then, when all of the buttons are undone, he first meets my eyes for a quick moment with a grin, then takes hold of each side of my open shirt and flings them aside, revealing my bare stomach and bra.

“Oh, darlin’,” he exhales, gazing at that part of me like it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen. All I can do is lie there, watching him watch me, feeling as his hands press against my navel, slowly sliding up my ribs, to the curve of my breasts, back down again. “You’re so beautiful.”

Sudden, unexpected emotion bubbles up in my throat.

I never thought any of this would happen. Hell, I thought I was going to die not two weeks ago.

When I left Joel, I thought I’d never see him again. And I thought that, even if I did, he’d not want anything to do with me.

And yet here we are, and he’s not just here, he’s mine, touching me with such care and desire and lust and I, God, I can’t put into words how it feels to have him like this—

“Hey,” his soft voice breaks me from my tumbling thoughts. His eyes leave my torso, and I swear to God I feel the lack of their heat. He meets my gaze instead, a soft frown of concern creasing his forehead. “You alright?”

Frantic, I nod. I need him to know that I’ve never been better. I have literally never, in my life, felt like this. I reach up for him, taking hold of his face and bringing it down to mine, not quite pressing our foreheads together. “Joel,” I whisper. He lifts one of his hands from my stomach, brushes the backs of his fingers down my face. “I’ve literally never been happier.”

He smiles. A beautiful little tilt of his lips that has me feeling just as much heat between my thighs as I do with his touch—

Speaking of, I grind down on him again, and my eyes flutter closed at the sensation. I need more. I need more, but he’s still hovering over me, concerned, and I realise that he’s not just brushing his fingers over my cheeks to touch me, he’s brushing away tears.

Tears.

I’m fucking crying. We’re supposed to be having sex, and I’m fucking crying.

Humiliated, I feel my cheeks flush bright red and immediately rush to wipe away the tears. “Sorry,” I croak out, finding more tears in my throat ready to fall, “God, I’m—I’m sorry, I’m fine, I promise…”

He keeps stroking my face. For a moment he watches me, and I can see in his eyes that he’s not judging me. He still looks a little bit worried, but as he looks between each of my eyes, he asks, soft, “Are you sure?”

And I nod in an instant. “I really am,” God, I can’t believe I’m crying. I’m still crying. “It’s just…” The weight of the last decade—fuck, the last two decades, who are we kidding—feels like it’s weighing me down and lifting all at once, suddenly washing over me in a wave that I can’t find my way up from and I don’t know if I want to.

Joel nods like he understands. Leaning down, he kisses away the newest tears on my cheeks. “It’s a lot,” he says, gentle. “I know. After everything.” The hand that isn’t on my cheek moves from my ribcage, instead taking a hold of my hand again, and putting it on the pillow by my head like before. “I’m here, darlin’. Alright? I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

Feeling just a little pathetic, I sniff. “I’m alright,” I promise him. My hand finds purchase on the back of his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.

He gazes down at me for another long moment, his free hand stroking at my hair. I close my eyes into the touch, focus on him, his breathing, his body over mine, protecting me. Keeping me there, because it’s the only place I want to be.

“I just love you,” I find myself whispering with my eyes still closed. At the confession, a small shot of dread shoots through my stomach in an instant, and at first, I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. But as the silence stretches on, I have to.

I open one eye first. A part of me expected him to get up and leave.

But I don’t know why. Because instead, he’s just staring down at me, a new softness on his features that I don’t think I’ve ever seen before. His lips quirk into a small smile. His eyes are glistening, disbelieving. “I love you,” he breathes out. I feel the words on my skin, sinking into my bones.

Relieved, I close my eyes again. Then I feel him kiss me, soft.

“I love you,” he says again. “I always have. I always will.”

Feeling a fresh wave of tears threaten to fall, I nod and press my nose into his cheek, grasping on to the back of his head like it’s a lifeline. It kind of is. “Can you please be inside me before I embarrass myself by crying again?” I whisper into his ear, not totally unaware of the fact that I sound even more like I’m crying now. Which, I’m not. I don’t want to cry anymore. I’ve cried enough.

His chuckle is breathy and warm against the shell of my ear. “‘Course I can,” he gently nips at my earlobe, then in one smooth movement, he pushes his knee right up against my still very clothed pussy and I let out a cry. Pleasure shoots through me, and the tears subside to make way for a gasp that pulls out of my lips.

It all happens very quickly, and yet very slowly, after that.

One minute, we’re both still clothed and kissing slowly and softly. The next, I’m tugging off his shirt, he’s unhooking my bra, putting his head between my breasts and kissing the centre of my ribcage with an open mouth. I undo his belt clumsily, push his jeans down to his ankles. He kicks them off and climbs back on top of me as soon as he can, helping me out of my own jeans. It takes a bit of working around my bandage, a distant pain still throbbing away over it.

He looks up at me and raises his eyebrows. “You tell me if this starts hurting,” he says, not a suggestion.

I nod. “I will.”

He wastes no time getting back to my lips, one of his hands travelling all-too slowly down my body towards my centre. I ruck my hips up into his touch, and soon his fingers are pressing against my bare skin, right above my clit where I need him.

“Joel,” I say, “touch me. Please.”

He obliges without a word, sliding the tips of his two fingers down through my folds and towards my entrance, gathering wetness. I hear the slick of it, feel it, and he takes it up to my clit before pressing there in earnest.

“You tell me if it don’t feel good,” he murmurs against my lips. “Need this to be good for you.”

Desperate, I nod, clutching his head with both of my hands as I press my hips up into his delicious touch, the circles he’s making around my clit.

His fingers are inside me, then, thumb pressing against the precious bundle of nerves that he seems intent on pushing on.

“God, Joel, that’s just—that’s just right,” I gasp.

He smiles against my mouth and keeps going, slowly pumping two fingers in and out of me, stretching them apart a few times to get me ready. The sheer anticipation of having his cock inside me is enough to have me pulsing, getting wetter and wetter by the minute.

He readies his cock, holding it against my entrance. Looking into my eyes, he smiles, and presses the tenderest of kisses to my lips. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you…” the words fade off into a breathless whisper as he slides inside me, past my folds and right to my core, so hot and warm and wide and, God, fuck, it was so worth the wait—

I cling to him, scratch my nails down his bare back. As he starts to thrust, slow but not hesitant, he attaches his mouth to my shoulder and sucks. With one hand stroking my hair, he brings the other back to my clit, working it in time with his thrusts.

“Jesus…God, you feel so good…” he grunts against my neck.

“Joel,” I plead, “please…harder, faster…I need you…”

My words pull the loveliest of moans from his throat and it’s like he melts beneath them, beneath my breath and my hands, pushing himself further inside me so the head of his cock is reaching as high as it can go, gently pushing against my cervix. Before he starts going any faster, he pauses, panting in my ear, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Joel, I can take it…”

“Your leg…”

“I’ll tell you if it hurts. Joel, please…”

He lets out a shuddering breath.

Then, he does just what I ask him to do.

It’s not painful. But it is a lot.

His dick hits the highest point inside me he can get to, and it’s so sensitive, it feels like he’s fucking up into my belly button, thrusting so hard that it meets resistance at the top of each curve of him inside me—

His finger gets harder against my clit, too. And, fucking hell, if it wasn’t intense before, it’s fucking overwhelming now.

Not-quite-painful pleasure sparks through from deep inside me to every inch of my body.

“Darlin’,” he gasps, opening his mouth against my neck in pleasure, as his pants get more frantic and his thrusts more erratic. It feels so good, and I’m just pinned underneath him, my left knee pressed into his hip, the other leg still flat on the bed.

His thrusts are jolting me, and there’s definitely pain coming from my wound, but it’s absolutely nothing compared to the feeling of him inside me, fucking me into the mattress as I feel the sweat on his skin—“Darlin’, you feel so good, wrapped around me like this…wanted you for so long, so fuckin’ long, thought about this so many times with my hand on me—” he keeps spilling words, filthy words, into the place where my neck meets my shoulder, and I lap it all up. His voice is like sweet, husky syrup to my ears and I hold him there with his words buzzing into my skin, letting them carry me away to a place where it’s just the two of us, just his cock sliding in and out, fucking me just like I always dreamed of it, his finger still rubbing earnest circles over my clit—

It comes over me suddenly, builds up unexpectedly. “Joel! Joel, I’m gonna…”

He kisses the shell of my ear, all hot breath and wet spit, “Do it, baby, come on my cock…come for me, darlin’, I gotcha…”

And I do. Pleasure rises and rises and rises and then drops, a strangled cry finding its way out of my throat before Joel presses his hand over my mouth to swallow the sound. He moans along with me, and when he lifts his head from my neck, the look on his face keeps me riding my orgasm for just that little bit longer. Totally relaxed in pleasure, his eyes fluttering as they struggle to stay open, his mouth hanging open with spit glistening on his lips. He comes, then, inside of me, and it spills down my thighs with each push back in and out.

I stroke the back of his head as the aftershocks from my high milk his pleasure out for as long as they can. I can feel the release of his muscles, the last of his orgasm fading and leaving him flushed and hot and lovely inside me.

I pant against his cheek. He breathes against mine, fast, taking deep breaths. He’s still inside me. I don’t want him to ever not be.

So when he goes to pull out, I twist my leg at his hip so my foot presses into the base of his back, anchoring him there. “Stay,” I say, pleading, “please. Just for a minute.”

Wordless, he nods, and leaves precious little kisses all across my face and neck. Peppers them down my chest as far as he can go with the way I’ve got him pinned in place. I could keep him here forever. Inside me, on top of me, all around me. His hair is wet with sweat, beads of it dripping down from the back of his neck and onto my breasts.

Jesus.

“Joel,” I whisper. It feels like I’m only ever going to be able to say his name again. “That was…Jesus, Joel, that was good.”

Breathy, he chuckles. “Better than good,” he says. Then he pulls away, and I feel the cold nip of the air start to tickle against my skin, the wetness between my thighs getting cooler. Goosebumps raise on my skin, and Joel notices. “Sorry, darlin’, I’m gonna have to pull out now. Get us cleaned up a bit and warm.” He sounds genuinely sorry, stroking my face as if in consolation.

I sigh, but I know he’s right. Nodding, I give him one last, long kiss on his mouth. “Hurry back,” I say when he climbs off of me and heads into the bathroom.

Hearing the gentle slosh of water, I close my eyes, and feel the cool sheets beneath my skin. There’s a mess between my thighs, dripping down onto the sheet. We should probably have put a towel down. But.

I am about to tell Joel as much when he comes back in with a warm, wet washcloth, but then realise he’s brought a towel with him, too. Too little, too late.

“We made a bit of a mess,” I say, letting my head loll towards him on the pillow. He chuckles in the quiet dimness of the room, the low light flickering over his bare skin.

“Nothin’ we can’t clear up,” he replies, settling between my legs again. Carefully, he wipes at my skin with the washcloth, clearing away my own wetness and his release. I sigh, enjoying the warmth, the way he rubs absently at my knee with his spare hand. He cleans himself up next, then tosses the washcloth across the room.

“Scooch,” he says gently, pushing at my hip. “I’ll put a towel down.”

“Joel, I think you’re about a half hour too late with that,” I smirk, but do as he asks so he can lay the towel over the mattress, spreading it as far as he can.

“We can clean the sheets properly in the morning,” he announces, the grabs the comforter from the floor—I don’t even remember when it got there—and carefully brings it up over my body.

I sigh into the cool fabric and feel the mattress dip beneath Joel’s weight. He crawls into bed beside me, and soon his arms are pulling me against his chest.

I settle with my head over his ribcage, my leg hooked over his as he lies on his back. The covers are pulled right up to my neck, and I take a moment to pull the corner over the top of Joel’s chest, only just avoiding my face.

“Joel,” I say, quiet.

“Hm?” He murmurs as his hand absently rubs circles into my shoulder. His eyes are closed, his other hand propped under his head. When I look up at him, he looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him, blissed-out and content. It’s such a beautiful sight that I debate resisting the tiredness in my body and just staying up to watch him like this.

I lift my hand, take hold of his cheek. Turn him to face me, then lean in and kiss him. “I’ve always loved you,” I whisper against his mouth. “I need you to know that.”

His eyes crack open to look into mine. “I always loved you, too,” he strokes at my bottom lip with his thumb. “Now, come on. Let’s get some sleep, alright? Been wantin’ to hold you to sleep for a long time.”

Warmth blooms in my chest. I kiss him again, just once, and snuggle in closer before putting my head back where it was.

And, just like the invisible string that seemed to tie us together all this time, I sit comfortably in this space, letting all the tangles and the knots in my mind unravel. What’s past is past, and we’re here now.

After everything, after the good, the bad, letting this thing between us come back from the dead—

We’re here.

{❤️end❤️}

notes: ah i can't believe it's finished ❤️ thank you SO much for reading and enjoying this fic with me, all your responses have made me so happy and i'm just so glad it's brought some of you joy. i hope you enjoyed the final chapter! i'm considering maybe writing some one-shots set in this universe at some point, or some little drabbles, so keep an eye out for those :)

love u, take care of yourself! ❤️

ps: as always this is post-apocalyptic and a fanfiction but in real life don't forget to always practice safe sex babes!

taglist below

@rosymythologies @lover1307 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @pinkrose1422 @lavenderhhze @abbyhaslongshorts @trippoverrt @emilianamason

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller story #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #my fic #my fic: joel #my fic: joel smut

204 notes · View notes

anotherwvba · 1 month

Text

Learning on the Job pt. 4

As the day wore on, fighters and hopefuls came in and out of the WVBA Gym. It was a veritable symphony of thuds, grunts, cheers, and gripes. In the center ring, Gemma was now sparring alternately with Skye and Mika under the watchful eyes of Coach Maxwell and Dudley Bruce. Glass Joe was on the treadmill trying to warn people away from a napping trainee, while Disco Kid and Cutie Hondo were showing new signee Jon Adamski around the gym and introducing him to people with varying degrees of success.

Meanwhile, in a corner of the gym, Razor Sharp was on the speed bag. She was a force of nature. She danced around the bag, keeping its rhythm flowing for strikes from all angles. She had the flair and showmanship of a star. From all around the gym, eyes fell on her and the bag. She knew and she loved it.

As Razor drew stares and gazes with her incredible bag work, Luna Doll approached a neighboring speed bag, ready to start her own workout. Luna was as precise and quick on the speed bag as she is with a controller, something viewers of her streams knew all too well. But as focused as she was, Luna found herself stealing glances of Razor’s performance on the bag next to her.

Taking a quick break, Razor took a moment to hydrate and grabbed her water bottle. Most of those watching her went back to their own training at that point, but Luna caught a glimpse of the bottle, the word RAZOR boldly emblazoned across it.

“Yo,” Luna stopped her bag as she spoke, “you’re Razor Sharp, ain’t ya’?” Her tone was friendly and warm, as usual, but had a touch of challenge to it, like she was putting her quarter down on the arcade machine to call ‘next’.

Razor turned, sizing Luna up with a smile, “That’s me, girl! Philly’s finest in the flesh.” Her brash and braggadocious nature came through, but certainly good-natured. “And you’re Luna Doll, the stream queen herself. Loved your ‘Shadow Hearts’ playthrough. Pretty cool stuff.”

“Thanks! I can’t believe you watch,” Luna’s face lit up at the recognition. “You know, I gotta tell you, debuting against each other? It’s like a dream. I’ve seen you in action before and you’re amazing! It’s like you were born for this… which kinda makes sense. B-T-W, big fan of your dad.”

A mischievous quality came through Razor’s grin, “Appreciate it. Our fight’s gonna be lit, something really special. For me, anyway. Kinda like a good public workout.”

“Excuse me?” That comment hit Luna like a game over screen and her friendly expression darkened. “What do you mean by ‘public workout’?”

Razor’s confidence never wavered, her smile securely in place. “Means you’ve never had a fight, not a real one. I step into the ring, I’m not like your influencer friends. They playing tag. I’m starching chicks. You ain’t ready for what I’m bringing.”

Pride and determination overcame Luna. Her eyes flared, but she held her temper in check. “Just ‘cause I fought influencers before I came here doesn’t mean I don’t take this seriously. Those fights were real. We weren’t playing games. We were trying to put each other on the canvas. So, you best not sleep on me, girl!”

“Hey, chill,” Razor shrugged and put her hands up. “Ain’t saying you didn’t scrap. I’ve seen what you’ve done. It’s cool and all and it took a lotta guts. But this? Me? This is the big leagues, baby, and, like you said, I was born for this. You ain’t built for a beatdown, giving or receiving.”

Luna heard the challenge in Razor’s voice and smiled. It wasn’t out of amusement, though. It was ‘game on’. She stepped a little closer toward Razor, “We’ll see, Razor. But I’mma tell you right now, you treat me like anything other than another pro and I’m gonna flip the script on you, Baby Sands.”

Closing the distance between them to mere inches, Razor’s smile broadened, her voice dropped. She was loving this. “Let’s keep this 100, aight? You best be ready to catch a beating, girl. I’mma send a message to the whole damn Circuit and that message is gonna be you, out like a light, flat on your back.”

“Oh, girlfriend,” Luna met Razor’s gaze with her own, her smile bright, too. Unfazed and unflinching. “Stay cocky. Keep underestimating me. ‘Cause I can’t wait to prove you wrong. Just one thing… don’t blink, baby. You do and you’ll wake up on your ass wondering what happened.”

And there it was. Challenge laid out and accepted. Bring your best or pay the price when the bell rings. Luna turned back to her bag, finding her rhythm driven by a newfound purchase. Razor moved on to the heavy bags to continue her own training, but just couldn’t help herself as she called back loudly over her shoulder, the whole gym hearing her.

“Hey, Hitmaker! By the time I’m done whooping your ass, you gonna wish you stuck to boxing with TikTokers and Twitch streamers. It’s a lot safer than stepping to me, baby!”

Luna’s response was a barely there smile and words only loud enough for herself to hear, drowned out by the rhythmic sounds of her speed bag. “Game on, Baby Sands… game on!”

Star Mika is an OC belonging to @cyrah-is-cool101 and is used with permission. Jon Adamski is an OC belonging to @punchout-ispunched and is used with permission.

#punch out #super punch out #punch out wii #punch-out!!#super punch-out!!#punch-out!! wii #wvba #punch out oc #punch out fanfic #razor sharp #luna doll

11 notes · View notes

oogaboogaspookyman · 3 months

Text

youtube

[IT'S A ME]

[1]

It's been decades since i have seen another mortal soul in front of me

My head had deteriorated alongside with the land, i feel like i died

*ya no wonder you look like a creep don't fuckin' touch Gf she's taken and doesn't accept absolute horrid creatures like you mfer*

[2]

Decades trapped inside this MOTHERFUCKING CONSOLE

Everything around me fell apart just like my brain, Super Mario is now no more

*dayum yeah that be rough but did i ask? Fucker?*

(I HAD DECAYED)

[3]

No turning back now, the damage is done

Let's see if you'd like it if i were to pull you apart too!

*yeah you a bitch fuck off go bother someone else, sonic.exe wannabe I AM GOD head ass bitchass dumbass stupid ass goofyass no bitches having ass*

[4]

I'm gonna have a lotta fun tearing you apart, inch by agonizing inch!

The both of you are gonna be my playthings 'till the very end!

*what did i fuckin' say. EXEs never change, it's all the same damn thing y'know, so cheesy it's even funny man shut up*

[5]

It's-a me, just Super Mario in the flesh!

This old plumber is gonna shove your innards inside a pipe, they'll never find your body before you rot!

*yeah yeah same ol' same ol' bs shut yo ass up you're annoying*

(you're gonna rot inside the pipes, and nobody will ever tell you're GONE)

[6]

It's been decades since i had seen another human being in my now godly presence

My humanity had become naught but a faint memory in the depths of my subconcious

Do you know the feeling of your soul watching your own body rotting and fading away, so powerless?

*don't fuckin' trauma dump on me you bitch fuck you, dipshit*

(ME, I HAVE DIED)

(YET, I CAN BREATHE)

[7]

Kill you

I'll kill you, rip you up into little pieces

Eat your remains, your innards, you're gonna die!

*🖕😐🖕* (AUTHOR'S NOTE: wHEEZE-)

[8]

Decades trapped inside this stupid fucking console, left to ROT

I WATCHED MY OWN BODY DIE WITH MY OWN EYES

*yeah that's definetly traumatic but did i fuckin' ask* (author's note: MAN FUCK OFF)

(YOU'RE GONNA DIE LIKE I HAVE BEFORE)

[9]

LET'S NOT WASTE ANY MORE TIME

I'M ABOUT TO RIP OUT YOUR SPINE

YOUR SOUL WILL BELONG TO ME

YOUR FLESH WILL BE ALL MINE TO EAT

NOW THE BOTH OF YOU WILL BE MY PLAYTHINGS

YOUR FATE WAS SET IN MOTION THE MOMENT YOU LAID YOUR EYES ON THE CARTRIDGE

YOU CANNOT ESCAPE THE HELL YOU'VE UNLEASHED UPON YOURSELF

*oh no the track just became even more of a banger oh nooo this means bad things are gonna happen whatever will i doooooo fuck you*

[10]

NOW, LET'S SET THIS SHIT STRAIGHT, PLAY OUR ONE THRILLING GAME

LET'S PLAY TAG, SEE IF YOU CAN OUTRUN MY KNIFE, LITTLE BLUEBALLS BOY

*okay- out of character here- i love how i'm so like "man shut yo bitchass up i don't want no killer Mario tryna ruin my day fuck you" meanwhile for some reason Bf is canonically afraid for his life and his Gf's safety like- YOU'VE BEEN HERE BEFORE AND YOU SURVIVED BECAUSE THEY WERE FUCKING STUPID AS SHIT MY GUY oh wait good part incoming hol' up*

(GO ON)

(RUN OFF)

(TRY ME)

[11]

GO AHEAD AND TRY, RUN FROM ME AND DELAY THE INEVITABLE, SEE IF IT DOES YOU ANY GOOD, KEEP YOUR SOUL AWAY FROM ME

[12]

THE FLAMES OF MY HELLHOLE WILL SWALLOW YOU WHOLE BEFORE YOU EVEN SET FOOT IN YOUR MORTAL REALM

THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU FUCK WITH THE WRONG FORCES OUTSIDE OF YOUR CONTROL

NOW YOU WILL PAY

*OOOHHHH*

*oh yo this is actually awesome hold ON YO*

*YOOOOO*

(IT'S-A ME, JUST SUPER MARIO, ABOUT TO SHOW YOU THE CONSEQUENCES OF YOUR ACTIONS)

[WE'RE GONNA HAVE SO MUCH FUN]

[JUST ME AND YOU]

#spooker's banger lyrics #mario madness #fnf #it was not leaving me alone so yeah #here ya go it's cheesy as fuck on purpose #Youtube #SoundCloud

9 notes · View notes

thiriumhound · 11 days

Note

5, 6, and 7 for the love-your-fandom asks if you want to! I finished connor by systemic dreams recently since you’ve recommended it in your tags before, and…. I am in awe lol

OH MY GOD ANON I WILL SCREAM THANK YOU FOR READING IT IM INSANE IM UNWELL FOR THAT FIC CHANGED MY DBH LIFE-

ahem anyway uhhh ask game :3 tysm for sending an ask!!! and sry it took so long.... ^^;;

5 (something you see in fics a lot and love) - ooughougouh ummm connor whump?? is that too easy??? see i can't think of smth i see a LOT and LOVE.... ooooh actually good smut. there is a lotta good smut out there LOL this fandom is a great kinda horny sometimes. (thank you mermay 😳)

6 (something you see in art a lot and love) - ........ oh lord im so sorry artists everywhere i cannot think of Anything. brain blank as hell. this fandom has some damn good anatomy though, and badass aesthetic. and any art emphasizing their android nature (goes w fic as well)..... hell yeah 👀 once again my issue is at least partially the requirement by the phrasing of the q that it is both smth i see a LOT and smth i LOVE lol

7 (your favorite tropes to read/write/draw) - ok ok ik i already answered this one in the prev one but why shut up when i can keep talking ok. uhhhh as stated above i love when androids are treated as androids, and as such here i love this sorta "interspecies" dynamic it makes. the trope of a normal guy trying to understand this foreign, incomprehensible sort of person... i love when their differences aren't downplayed or erased but rather accepted and adjusted to, even if with difficulty. brings about a unique kind of relationship i can't get enough of (not specifically talking ship).

i hope those answers made any sense here's the post w the qs if anyone wants to send me more!!!! https://thiriumhound.tumblr.com/post/747618958223540224

#thiriumhowls #connor rk800 #hank anderson #platoniconk #i'd add more tags but that's the only one directly referenced tbh #asks #well i mean on the topic of connor by systemic dreams tho. replace hank tag with matthews tag. and well every human. ofc #god i fucking love that fic i'm insane u don't even get it i-#lord almighty #detroit: become human #also idk how to apply a 'trope' to drawing... maybe im thinking too narrow rn lol #once again sorry all artists everywhere

2 notes · View notes

takaraphoenix · 6 months

Text

20 Questions Game for Fic Writers

Tagged by @blairwaldcrf ! Thank you, dear! <3

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

As of right now, 1214 works! Damn, I've been busy :D"

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

Currently at 9,167,371 words, slowly inching toward the 10 million mark!

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Oh gosh, the total list is so long at this point, with various one-off kind of deals, or fandoms I've moved on from.

I am currently considering myself an active writer in these fandoms though: Shadowhunters, Percy Jackson, Detective Conan/Magic Kaito, DC Comics.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sorted by kudos, my top 5 fics are:

How Big, How Blue, How Beautiful (Marvel, Loki/Tony), with 7,945

My College Boyfriend (PJO, Nico/Percy), with 6,353

The Lion's Pride (Voltron, Shiro/Keith/Lance), with 6,163

The Ghost King of Summers High (PJO, Nico/Percy), with 5,600

Percy Jackson, Ambassador of Hades (PJO, Nico/Percy), with 4,985

Which actually looked really fucked up because yeah sure there's four super popular multi-chapter fics of mine. And then there is My College Boyfriend, which isn't just a oneshot, it is a oneshot with under 3k words. What. What.

And the, quite frankly frustrating, part here is that this oneshot only has 24 comments. Not even every 100th reader felt the need to leave a comment. That's just... so sad. Like. Genuinely, I think the kudos system broke commenting because the convenience of pressing a button beat actually expressing yourself genuinely through words and from the bottom of my heart, I find that depressing as fuck.

5. Do you respond to comments?

Always. Every single one of them. Because comments mean something. Someone took the time to tell you, with words, that they liked your work and maybe even what they liked about it.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Ooof, multiple contestants from back in my day when I wrote German fics for the Beyblade fandom and wrote about... darker themes. Not all fics used to have happy endings. I wrote some fics that ended in a suicide, so I guess those.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Impossible to answer, because for as long as I've been active in English writing, all my fics have had happy endings. The guy gets the guy, the girl gets the girl, and they live happily ever after. The world is saved or the evil defeated, maybe there's even an epilogue of a next gen in there. That's my standard, it ends happily. So that makes it impossible to pick one that somehow ends happier than the rest. xD

8. Do you get hate on fics?

loool

Right. Sorry. Yeah. Yeah, of course. Funnily enough, never on the things you would assume attract hatred - the incest, the explicitly non-con stuff.

Nah, I got death threats and words that were somehow worse than death threats on my Oliver/Felicity fics in the DC fandom... a... straight canon ship... but not the canon ship from the multiverse that these vile assholes liked, so, ya know. Threaten the fans who love a ship you hate.

Also over the years, lotta nasty general homophobia for Nico/Percy in the PJO fandom - I have been writing in this fandom since 2010, and yes, there were really a lot of people especially in the earlier years who just hated the idea of making either Percy or Nico gay.

And the dumbasses who declare Jace/Alec incest and thus hate and threaten this ships fans in the Shadowhunters fandom. But still, inexplicably, like Alec. Even though, in canon, he's the one who was in love with Jace. I don't know, but if you claim the nasty, nasty incest is The Bad Thing, I think you should hate the character with the nasty, nasty incestuous feelings, instead of the fans who write perfectly tagged and filterable fics. But that's just me, I guess.

So yeah, top three of hatred I got over the years - but if you wanna read a highlight reel of bullshit hate mail I got, feel free to go and check out my Dear Anonymous Shitheads tag!

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

All kinds of smut? I don't know how to answer this question, to be honest. xD

I've written oral, anal, vaginal, mlm, wlw, m/m/f, rare m/f ships but usually either she pegs or it's ABOverse and she's an alpha, I generally pepper in some flavors of BDSM into it, I've written dub-con and non-con before, bestiality, double penetrations. I have written a lot.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

Oh, that is absolutely going to my first ever crossover. Because my usual crossovers are, ya know, that Big Four animated movie crossover verse (Tangled/Brave/HTTYD/RotG), or "I like these two fandoms, how would A's characters fit into B's world/how would B's characters fit into A's world?" for... essentially all my fandoms, and I wouldn't call any of these crazy - because the Big Four crossover is a beast of an own fandom so it's not really "original" or far out there to write for it, and in all my other crossovers, I do pride myself on making it work, like, not just throwing characters together but fitting their backstories and special powers into how the other world works.

So the craziest one is absolutely A Hundred Times Over, which is a oneshot sequel to my first-ever English-written fic and was written as a celebration because it was my 100th fic back then.

The original fic was already a crossover between Detective Conan and PJO, so for the celebration I thought "okay so what if I throw in my current obsession - Doctor Who - and my first ever ship - Shere Khan/Bagheera?". So, yeah, this crossover between Detective Conan, Percy Jackson, Doctor Who and Jungle Book has to be my craziest so far.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

So often. So, so, so, so often.

If you see my fics on watpad or any other platform that isn't AO3 or Fanfiction.net - and if you see them on those two but posted by an author that ISN'T Takara Phoenix - then please, let me know. Drop me a link wherever you can, I always greatly appreciate being told that my fics have been stolen so I can report that person and have it taken down.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. All of the stealing of my fics has made me incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of my fics flowing around on other people's accounts or other websites, especially since the first like four or so stolen fics I had were translated.

Someone took my fics, translated them into Spanish and Russian, and posted them on other platforms, without ever asking my permission.

I don't want thieves to more easily slip through the cracks in between authorized repostings of my stories, so I have the blanket policy to not allow translations.

If you see my fics in other languages, tell me.

(There is one story that has been translated, but I'm not sure how far it counts, because I did the translating myself, and that's Lass Uns Etwas Dummes Tun/Looking For Something Dumb to Do. It is a PJO fic about Nico/Percy that I wrote in celebration for Germany legalizing gay marriage in 2017; I wrote it in German first, due to that, and then decided to translate it into English since I know my core-audience are English-speakers and not German-speakers.)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yeees!!! With my wonderful, amazing, lovely @kimmycup!!! ^-^

We've written a total of five fics together so far.

Three Shadowhunters fics: Hurting and Healing, a Magnus/Jace oneshot, Three Times the Boys Felt Left Out, a Jordan/Simon/Jace oneshot, A King By Any Other Name, a Alec/Jace oneshot.

A Vampire Academy oneshot about Mason/Christian: The Chance at a Happily Ever After.

And, our pride and joy, our 51k multichapter Shadowhunters/Vampire Academy crossover fic about Mason/Christian and Simon/Jace: Double Puppy Dare.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

That's such a hard question to answer for me as a multishipper.

But to be quite honest, I think I would have to go with Kaito/Shinichi from Detective Conan/Magic Kaito?

It's the ship I've been the most consistently been faithful to and that, whenever I see it, sparks joy. That has proven that even when the fandom's gone dormant for me for months or years, it can reignite into a wildfire, where other fandoms just fizzle out and disappear from my interests then.

These two get me, they've been getting me for one and a half decades now and I doubt they'll stop any time soon.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

All of my unfinished German fics over on Animexx. When the German Beyblade fandom started to die, I tried to cling on, but at one point... when all your favorite writers, all your friends, have moved on? And then I started reading fics in English and soon after, also writing them in English. I feel bad about it, but it's just been far too long now.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Personally, I'd say world building. That's also my passion. I love creating elaborate worlds for my stories to take place in - I mean, damn, for the book series I'm writing, I developed my own language, religion and drew a map of the city it takes place in, among other things. A well-developed world is so important.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh, fight scenes and action and other things that...

When a character is good at a thing that I am not good in or know a lot about?

Like, when a character is super quippy and funny, but I am not really a one-liners-person so now I have to come up with quippy one-liners to capture his personality?

Or fighting or science, when a character is an expert in a field that I know nothing about and would not understand jackshit about even if I tried because it's not my wheelhouse? Those things, I really struggle with.

Also, I hate action and fight scenes. Like. That's the parts when I check my phone usually to avoid that my eyes glaze over from boredom. So, naturally, writing these things? Not fun. Not good at it either, imo. But certain fics - or rather, certain characters too - require action and fight scenes.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Painful if you have to use Google Translate. If you know the language? Yeah, go for it! If you have to resort to Google Translate? Maybe just write it in italics and note that it's in x language. It spares both, the native speakers who will die from second hand embarrassment, and the non-speakers who... won't understand it anyway.

But in the cases that I use foreign languages (and usually when I do, it's just... pet-names. Things you can't really fuck up that much and things that people would say in another language even in English-main-dialogues), I always put the translation right behind the sentence, because it's a special brand of obnoxious when you have to scroll ALL the way to the end of a chapter or fic to see what tf you just read, and then scroll back up again.

Hate doing that, so I won't do that to my readers.

19. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Oh, that's Yu-Gi-Oh!, with a hurt/comfort Kaiba/Joey fic.

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Can't answer that, it always depends on my current mood which of my babies I love the most ;P

Tagging @kimmycup and @justonemorechapternicercy and @fallenqueen2 for this fun! And anyone else who wants to do it! <3

#Tumblr Tag Game #Writing #About Me

5 notes · View notes