#i could've done so much more i had to stop myself

[todayisafridaynight]

IW fr just felt like yokoyama's cope for killing Aoki off and then regretting it

im not saying yoko shouldve ryuji'd aoki but im just saying maybe the aoki-lives truthers were onto something if not copium but serving a warning for what was to come

[whispering-kavka]

the struggles of today proved to me that i might indeed be a little mentally unwell

[insomnya777]

elaborating because i can and a couple people asked me to and we all know that all i need is a little encouragement to get me going

under the cut because i'm a grade-a yapper and this is going to be LONG. like super long. i've pulled up lyrics and songs and everything. <- your final warning

1. joel as sabrina

so no one really disagreed with me on this one and i don't think anyone will just because of the fact that he references her in his videos but like. i'm still going to talk about it because i want to and this is my blog and You Can't Stop Me!!!!!

if you don't know sabrina carpenter, basically just know that she's charismatic & confident & hilarious & gorgeous. plus like all of her songs are sooo him! they're fun and light and always a hit!!! but also can be scathing if they need to be!!!! her humour especially reminds me of him (as a character) because it's like ironic and self-aware but also flirty and silly but also a little twisted and a little mean. in particular i think that the cocky (not the word that describes it best but it's the only one i can think of) side of herself that she shows during her concerts reminds me a lot of joel with his whole "oh i'm so tall and handsome" bit he's got going on

literally like i don't know what more i can say to this. my dude has multiple of her songs in his playlist, he used espresso in his video, and also one of his tools on hermitcraft is named after a lyric. it's canon guys 🙏

songs that i think are the most him + specific lyrics:

espresso — i can't relate to desperation, my give-a-fucks are on vacation

read your mind — oh, i'll be laughing when you say that you really have changed, finally found your way, 'cuz i'm close to your face

tornado warnings — i deserve an hour in a week to focus on my thoughts, not so obsessed with yours i can't hear myself speak

lonesome — if i fall in love with all my problems, will they leave me too?

things i wish you said — nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks i'm fucking rude

bed chem — who's the cute boy with the white jacket and the thick accent?!

don't smile — don't smile 'cuz it happened, baby, cry because it's over

good graces — baby, you say you really like it, being mine, so let me give you some advice!

2. grian as taylor

okay this one is VERY personal to me. i am so unhealthily attached to him as taylor. you're probably thinking: but, nya, he literally canonically has an alter ego named after ariana grande! and i raise you this point: i simply do not care

all jokes obviously. i can see why people see him as ariana! especially in her new album, i've listened to it a lot, and i definitely can see some songs that remind me of his character - cough, cough, we can't be friends (wait for your love) - but i've got to say that ariana to me has always been scar (or maybe even a bit of jimmy? undecided) but that's a post for another time

now why i see grian as taylor! i have three main reasons for this actually. as an og swiftie and an og grian fan i may be a little bit biased but just. ignore that. thanks

first of all, i think that they're both kind of starting points, if you get what i mean. most hermitcraft/life series fans start with grian, and then eventually branch out to other creators. similarly, a lot of people listen to taylor swift/know her songs the best out of the genre she specializes in/within the audience her content is aimed towards

secondly, they're also both the most popular within their own branch, and i think they're both the type of artists/channels that you can enjoy without really being a Fan of. almost mainstream (? don't know if that's the term that would work for grian but you get my point). like you don't have to be a diehard grian fan to enjoy his videos, you can just decide one day to pick up one of them, watch it, then never think of it again. does that make sense?

third, i think they both have a lot of variety within their content. taylor's music ranges between emotions and styles, just like the videos that grian makes fluctuates in theme. he's on servers like hermitcraft, where we see him interact with other people and show off his building skills and just be silly. then he's in the life series, which is the total opposite, and then he was also in evo, which is also very different, and so on. his characterization also is very different from author to author, which is, of course, to be expected, but i haven't really seen other people in this particular fandom get characterized so differently to this degree. (it's not a bad thing!!!! i love it i think it's actually sooo fun & interesting that we can take this character and morph it into what we want. like most people don't even realize they're doing it you can only really pick up on it if you're looking for it)

songs that i think are the most him + specific lyrics:

castles crumbling — and you don't want to know me, i will just let you down

begin again — thinking all love ever does is break, and burn, and end

22 — happy, free, confused, and lonely at the same time

call it what you want — and i know i make the same mistakes every time, bridges burn, i never learn, at least i did one thing right

the archer — 'cuz all of my enemies started out friends, help me hold on to you

don't blame me — for you, i would cross the line, i would waste my time, i would lose my mind

hoax — stood on the cliffside, screaming "give me a reason"

this is me trying — and my words shoot to kill when i'm mad, i have a lot of regrets about that

my tears ricochet — you know i didn't want to have to haunt you, but what a ghostly scene

mad woman — what did you think i'd say to that? does a scorpion sting when fighting back? they strike to kill, and you know i will

the prophecy — please, i've been on my knees, change the prophecy. don't want money, just someone who wants my company

3. jimmy as olivia

i'll be real with you, i have considerably less reasons for why i've chosen this. it relates a lot around his interactions with other characters instead of just him as a character + i've taken a few creative liberties here so. cut me someeee slack!

my main reason for this is that jimmy is just the epitome of teenage girl to me (just like olivia). that's probably a little bit of projection on my side because i, myself, am a teenage girl (which i don't know if many of you know? but yes i am a teenager) and jimmy's probably my favourite which leads to me kind of distorting his character a little. but. i don't know. something about the not being taken seriously, the refusal to give up, the insistence that this time will be different just hits me so hard/is relatable. not to get all serious on you

i will say this, though - while sabrina as joel was about both sabrina carpenter the person (or the person that the world knows) and also her music, i think for olivia as jimmy, it's mainly about the music. but you can also relate her relationships with other people (what we know of them, at least) to jimmy's with scott tango grian whatever. i think they do parallel each other pretty well, but, again, that's another post

i also think that jimmy's a lot more sour, not so much guts. olivia's first album revolves around that idea of heartbreak, jealousy, angst. i think his character usually revolves around themes like that. guts, olivia's second album, to me, is a little different. she's grown as a person, reflecting, and she's a lot more confident, too. it shows in her music. i think that jimmy (especially in the life series) is overall very, very sour coded, but then again, there are many songs on guts that definitely can be related to him too.

songs that i think are the most him + specific lyrics:

love is embarrassing — jesus, what was i even doing? 'cuz now it don't mean a thing, god, love's fucking embarrassing

ballad of a homeschooled girl — each time i step outside, it's social suicide

the grudge — i'm so tough when i'm alone, and i'll make you feel so guilty, and i fantasize about a time you're a little fucking sorry

teenage dream — when are all my excuses of "learning my lesson" gonna start to feel sad?

brutal — all i did was try my best, this the kind of thanks i get?

jealousy, jealousy — their win is not my loss, i know it's true but i can't help getting caught up in it all. comparison is killing me slowly

favourite crime — one heart broke, four hands bloody

1 step forward, 3 steps back — i hate that i give you power over that kind of stuff

THE END!!!!! i hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this and let me know your thoughts 🫶 always up for some debate!!!

if joel is sabrina carpenter coded (& he is trust) then grian is taylor and jimmy is olivia rodrigo. no i will not be taking criticism but i am fully willing to elaborate

[churipu]

STRAIGHT TO VOICEMAIL 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. cursing, mentions of death, gojo being sad and angry, 2006 gojo geto shoko.

note. for some reason i feel angsty today and i just saw this prompt on pin, just had to write it lol.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call — your very last call.

"i could've fuckin' saved them, suguru." gojo blankly stared at the ceiling, his head thrown back onto the couch's rest; he was conflicted, he didn't know what to do. it was as if his motoric abilities had just stopped all of a sudden.

"satoru . . ."

"i could've fuckin' saved y/n." the white haired male mumbled out, his face scrunching in frustration.

gojo has dealt with death. a lot. the concept of death isn't a stranger to him anymore, not in this world — and to think that he'd actually be alive to experience deaths of his loved ones, thinking he could have done so much more made him hate himself.

god, gojo hated crying in front of other people. the aura in the room was palpable. nobody spoke —nobody dared to speak— and the only sound resounding was the vague ticking belonging to the clock hanging on the wall.

"i could've fuckin' saved them," the male repeated for the third time, his voice breaking that he had to inhale sharply to stop himself from breaking down right there.

gojo pushed himself up, placing his palms above his eyes, pressing down on them harshly; he lets out a loud sigh, "where the fuck did it all go wrong?"

"y/n was killed in action . . ." god, gojo wanted to rip his hair out when yaga called him in privately to say that. the male had lost count of how many times the statement repeated in his mind.

frankly, it's haunting.

out of all the news he could have received today, he never expected to hear your death lulling into his eardrums. so soon. so many things swirling in his mind all at once that even he, deemed the strongest, felt the sensation of losing. he felt weak.

"hi, 'toru — you're probably busy since my call went straight to voice mail, but 'm just saying . . . i love you, and i miss you. so much." there was a slight pause and your breathing shallowed into the mic, every single detail in your last moments were graved in that file, "'m not sure if . . . i'll be back as soon as i promised, but, i just want you to know that whatever happens. happens."

there was a slight static before your soft voice recoiled back into the mic, "i've never broken any promises to you, but this might be the very first time — and just know that i've never wanted to do this, i fucking hate myself for this," your voice broke slightly, "'m bleeding. a lot. but 'm trying to stop it just like how ieiri taught me. and i think 'm doing shit at it . . . i don't know what happened, and how it happened; but 'm not doing okay."

"i don't want to die, 'toru." you whispered into the mic, hoarse and weak — feeling the life drain out, "i really don't want to die . . . i have so many things i want to do with you, and suguru, and ieiri . . ." you murmur out, inhaling sharply but it all ended up with you coughing out in pain.

"remember that time i said i wanted to open a pet hotel . . ? i don't know if you think i was joking, but i was really serious about opening one," you began to mumble out, all in random directions — none of your words make any sense anymore, and you could barely keep yourself awake.

"i don't want to die, please," you pleaded, desperate for life. no matter what you did at this point — the light inside of you was almost out, and you can't do anything about it, "fuck. i hate this. so much, 'toru."

"i want to see you again. i miss you. i miss you so so much," you softly murmur out, " . . . i love you. i love you so much, satoru."

and everything ended right after. including you.

gojo has never loathed himself more than when he missed your call. your. very. last. call.

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Ok so Harry has a tendency to blatantly state out loud just how much the Dursleys don't give two shits about him (to the point that the people around him think it's just a typical teenager over exaggerating their complaints), but... Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

Also like, I know that the way the Dursleys treated him plays a huge part in the way Harry behaves and views himself- specifically him not thinking an adult is a reliable source of help and protection + his disastrouly low self esteem + how he doesn't respond to Snape's everything (which is the exact opposite of what James would have done) ... But what are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows? (Someone once mentioned that they hc that when feeling extreme emotions Harry tends to skip out on food and may have nearly wasted away in his second year had it not been for Ron and Hermione- which is also why they act so much like Harry's bodyguards)

Yep, Harry put no effort into hiding his abuse. He literally told anyone who would listen. By 5th year, he was making jokes about it to Ron and Hermione who seemed used to it.

Now, you've raised a few questions and I'll try to answer them to the best of my ability.

Does he realise that the way he is being treated by them is wrong?

I think he does. Most of his comments about his relatives' treatment definitely sound like Harry is very aware that he shouldn't be treated like that.

“I told you, I didn’t — but it’ll take too long to explain now — look, can you tell them at Hogwarts that the Dursleys have locked me up and won’t let me come back, and obviously I can’t magic myself out, because the Ministry’ll think that’s the second spell I’ve done in three days, so —” “Stop gibbering,” said Ron. “We’ve come to take you home with us.” “But you can’t magic me out either —” “We don’t need to,” said Ron, jerking his head toward the front seat and grinning. “You forget who I’ve got with me.” “Tie that around the bars,” said Fred, throwing the end of a rope to Harry. “If the Dursleys wake up, I’m dead,” said Harry as he tied the rope tightly around a bar and Fred revved up the car. “Don’t worry,” said Fred, “and stand back.”

(COS, page 31)

“It was cloudy, Mum!” said Fred. “You keep your mouth closed while you’re eating!” Mrs. Weasley snapped. “They were starving him, Mum!” said George. “And you!” said Mrs. Weasley, but it was with a slightly softened expression that she started cutting Harry bread and buttering it for him.

(COS, page 39)

But Harry wasn’t going to stand for this. Gone were the days when he had been forced to take every single one of the Dursleys’ stupid rules.

(GOF, page 33)

“Excellent,” said Lupin, looking up as Tonks and Harry entered. “We’ve got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we’re ready. Harry, I’ve left a letter telling your aunt and uncle not to worry —” “They won’t,” said Harry. “That you’re safe —” “That’ll just depress them.” “— and you’ll see them next summer.” “Do I have to?” Lupin smiled but made no answer.

(OOTP, page 54)

“You don’t seem to need many qualifications to liaise with Muggles. . . . All they want is an O.W.L. in Muggle Studies. . . . ‘Much more important is your enthusiasm, patience, and a good sense of fun!’ ” “You’d need more than a good sense of fun to liaise with my uncle,” said Harry darkly. “Good sense of when to duck, more like . . .”

(OOTP, page 657)

It seems Harry is very much aware that the way he is being treated is wrong. the younger Weasleys and Hermione are clearly aware of that too. Harry calls the Dursleys' rules stupid, he knows the Dursleys aren't treating him the way they should and that he doesn't have to take it. That he shouldn't have to take it.

Harry is kind of a best-case scenario of an abused kid and Dumbledore was so lucky Harry ended up functional enough for his plans. It could've so easily gone down differently.

Honestly, I'm enraged on Harry's behalf at how Arthur, Molly, and Lupin (and every other adult) just completely ignore his mistreatment. He really does just state plainly what's going on and has Ron, Fred, George, and Hermione backing up everything he says.

What are the other ways in which he got affected and it shows?

I do like when Harry's approach to food is affected by the Dursleys starving him, that being said, there isn't really any book evidence for it. It's an interesting headcanon to explore though. His low self-esteem, willingness to endanger himself, and his thinking that adults be counted on are definitely effects seen in the books. As for other things we do see in the books:

1. Harry is actually really quiet. He doesn't speak as much as Ron and Hermione and he's pretty awkward with social interaction. He mimics Ron in many ways since he never had any friends before him.

His approach to studying is one of the ways he mimics Ron socially. Harry actually read their school books before 1st year, he found Hedwig's name in a History of Magic. And he planned to study at the beginning of Philosopher's Stone. Then he meets Ron and realizes no one in Gryffindor except Hermione actually studies, and she is hated for it. So he didn't bother studying either, even though he planned to because he wanted to fit in.

2. Harry isn't great at emotional regulation, specifically anger. Harry is a pretty angry character and throughout the books, he actually has moments when he completely loses himself to a sense of anger.

A boiling hate erupted in Harry’s chest, leaving no place for fear. For the first time in his life, he wanted his wand back in his hand, not to defend himself, but to attack . . . to kill.

(POA, page 339)

“Madame Maxime!” said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. “Zey are saying zat zis little boy is to compete also!” Somewhere under Harry’s numb disbelief he felt a ripple of anger. Little boy?

(GOF, page 275)

Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . .

(GOF, page 300)

If Dudley’s friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him, and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn’t want to lose face in front of the gang, but he’d be terrified of provoking Harry. . . . It would be really fun to watch Dudley’s dilemma; to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond . . . and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, Harry was ready — he had his wand . . . let them try . . . He’d love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell —

(OOTP, page 11)

He does calm down the older he gets. But he definitely has a lot of anger in him.

3. Harry, in general, has a disrespect for authority. I assume this is an extension of his distrust of adults, in that no teacher or nurse ever helped him. Harry is so anti-authority and anti-orders, that he can resist the Imperius Curse decently from the first try.

Harry just doesn't do orders or authority. Actually in the earlier books, and even in books 6 and 7, Harry has his doubts about Dumbledore. He repeatedly tells people he's Dumbledore's man, but in his head, he has doubts. Like he has for any other adult with authority over him.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!” he hissed. “He’s not as gone as you might think!” Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle, wishing rather than believing it to be true —

(COS, page 282)

“Because the Ministry of Magic’s still after me, and Voldemort will know all about me being an Animagus by now, Wormtail will have told him, so my big disguise is useless. There’s not much I can do for the Order of the Phoenix . . . or so Dumbledore feels.” There was something about the slightly flattened tone of voice in which Sirius uttered Dumbledore’s name that told Harry that Sirius was not very happy with the headmaster either. Harry felt a sudden upsurge of affection for his godfather.

(OOTP, pages 82-83)

He's very distrusting of adults and authority, but also his peers. He doesn't tell Ron and Hermione everything in the earlier books because he is very slow to trust. Which, makes sense for someone who grew up like he did.

4. His occasional impulsiveness is an extension of his issues with emotional regulation, I think.

5. I think Harry's cunning Slytherin streak is a result of his abuse. The Dursleys' mistreatment taught him to sneak around, to lie, to be clever. It taught him to keep a blank face when being yelled at because if he reacted it'll make it worse.

He learned how to insult the Dursleys in ways that go over Dudley's head. His little way to rebel.

6. His response to pain as well. We see it with Umbridge and the blood quill for example:

He let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Harry’s right hand, cut into his skin as though traced there by a scalpel — yet even as he stared at the shining cut, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before but quite smooth. Harry looked around at Umbridge. She was watching him, her wide, toadlike mouth stretched in a smile. “Yes?” “Nothing,” said Harry quietly. He looked back at the parchment, placed the quill upon it once more, wrote I must not tell lies, and felt the searing pain on the back of his hand for a second time

(OOTP, page 267)

Harry can hide his pain and not react to it, and he does it well. He learned from the Dursleys that she wants to see his pain, and he isn't going to give her what she wants. Instead, he grits his teeth through it and doesn't react externally.

Even later in the book when Umbridge threatens with the Crociatus Curse, Harry just braces himself for it, not planning to break (in later books too, Harry is very willing to get hurt and just deal with it). He is willing to take torture without reacting, and I think this is something he got from the Dursleys.

These are the some other things that came to mind regarding your question. There are probably more that I can't think of now that I might add later. Harry is who he is in part because of his nightmare of a childhood. So many facets of his personality just link back to it.

[urprettylittlething]

In The Shadows

Purge Alternate Universe

Yandere - Gojo Satoru x Reader x Geto Suguru

A/N - Okayyyy I've been working on this for like a week and it's the longest I've ever written for one thing, I had a shoulder injury which is mostly healed up now during the week which hindered my progress a little because I originally really wanted this to get out nearer Halloween time, but oh well TT at least its here now right? Lmao, but I hope you guys enjoy it, I tried my best and lowkey kind of hate it, I wished I could've done more or something, but if you have any ideas around this for a possible part 2 let me knoww, although no promises ;) Consider this a massive thank you story, I now have over 100 followers and the likes and reblogs and comments, you guys, I'm crying, I love you all so much <333333 I love interacting with you guys and your comments on my stories or in my inbox <3333 you all make my day ilysm <3 :( AND IM SORRY I COULDNT HELP IT, they're kind of really mean so its more harsh yandere than the soft you all wanted :( I couldn't help myself its a purge AU TT, but I promise ill make something softer in the future <33 sorry this is so long omfg, but let me know your thoughts pretty please &lt;3 and if you actually read all of this ily

summary - Another purge night is here and you think your safe and sound, but let your guard down and you'll find yourself bound.

warnings - purge, mentions of 'off screen' murder, actual 'off screen' murder, kind of gore but reader doesn't see it, blood, rope, reader gets tied up, gags?, tape over readers mouth, they're actually kind of really mean lol, especially Geto, descriptions of panic, anxiety, overthinking, stalker situation kind of, swearing, crying, brief hair pulling, if there's any more let me know ml <3

genre - Oneshot

wc - 7.2k

~spelling and grammar fixed already~

Edit - the top photo 6/11/23

The tip tapping of fingers on keys echoed around the silent room. The occasional footfalls of people around her walking up and down. Picking up books to further aid their studying would slip past the music playing in her ears when they were loud enough.

Every time she would hear someone being a little too loud for the library they were in she would glance up and shoot a half-hearted glare their way.

They’d never see her but it was the thought that counted. A barely audible sigh escapes her as she brings a hand up to massage her cold fingertips into the throbbing skin at her temple. 

Nervous nibbling was occupying her teeth and lips, chewing away the flesh and creating tender spots her tongue would soon soothe. 

She’d been staring at the same empty document for two hours now. No more than two sentences she was able to come up with before she’d erase them in a fit of frustration.

Abandoned textbooks lay closed behind her laptop, she’d deemed them no use around thirty minutes in, but she couldn't bring herself to get up and search for better ones. 

She was antsy, not able to focus on her assignment due in a week's time. Her brain was all fogged up, too many thoughts going through her mind and yet she's not able to focus on a single one.

The purge was tonight. March 21st. And it was currently 1pm. 

Why did she even bother to come to the library in the first place? Was she hoping to distract herself even just a little bit before she had to hunker herself down in her dorm for twelve hours? 

Maybe. Yes.

Was it working? Absolutely not.

She was too skittish. Overthinking everything that had the potential of happening later and things that have previously happened. 

‘Someone's not going to come and try to kill me just because I forgot to return their pen that one time, right?’ 

The amusing, albeit a little dark, thought did make the corner of her lips twitch just the smallest amount. 

Taking off her headphones after stopping her music, she closes down her laptop and starts to move it into her bag. 

She spares a quick glance around the few tables next to hers as she stands with the library's books in her arms. Her eyes locked with a man sitting roughly two tables down. Slumped back in his seat.

Gojo Satoru. Bright white and fluffy hair paired with a set of dazzling blue eyes. The ones currently peeking over the tops of his round shades that had slid down his nose as he tucked his head down slightly. 

Sitting in front of him and abstracting her view of Gojo only slightly is who she assumed was Geto Suguru. Two peas in a pod and never seen without the other. The long black and silky strands of hair tied up in a half up bun was a giveaway to who he was as well.

Both of them were originally from Tokyo, Japan. Coming over to America over five years ago. Or at least that's what she’s heard from around the place, not knowing them personally. They were the most popular boys in school when she had joined a little over a year ago and they still held the title strong.

She doesn’t think she's ever really interacted with them. At Least not on any kind of personal level. Sure, maybe from a few friends of friends or passing each other in the hallway and being polite to her upperclassmen, but nothing all that memorable. 

Which is why this prolonged eye contact is sending a very noticeable shiver down her spine. The smallest twitch of a smirk on his face and she was breaking eye contact, gulping down the pooled saliva in her mouth as she turned around and hastily made her way in between the towering bookshelves.

Leaving the library after stacking the books she’d previously taken back on the shelves, she hastily makes her way down the long corridors. Keeping her head down, her hands clutched tight on the strap of her bag. She passes very few people in the hallway.

Even after pushing through the doors and trekking her way to the dorms at the end of the path, there were very few people loitering around outside. Some of the people she passed looked like they could be stoned, not that she could really blame them. Some looked a little too relaxed and happy and some were just trying to get to their destination as quickly as possible. Like her.

As the doors came into view, and then the stairs, she slowly began to relax, her fast pace lessening up. Successfully getting to the safest place she could for when the purge would start. 

It was also a massive relief that her two good friends would be staying with her during the twelve hours of horror. Last time she was by herself there had been multiple scares throughout the night. Nothing too big but something she didn’t think she could handle alone again. 

Reaching her door on the third floor she fiddles with her keys for a few seconds before her door clicks open and she pushes her way inside. Closing the door and locking it again for good measure. 

It was 1:43 pm.

A few minutes after she had arrived back at her dorm did she realize she still needed to pick up some food items. Being a broke student meant she had essentially nothing in her cupboards or her fridge. And if she was ‘hosting for the purge’ this year, it meant she had to stock up at least a little bit. 

‘Imagine trying to hide from a killer and your stomach growls, I think I would just die on the spot.’ She thinks, the smallest smile gracing her face. Humour is usually her way to cope in situations like these. It’s either that or panicking and she’d rather try to save that for the main event.

With a heavy sigh and hesitation weighing her limbs down, she slowly puts her shoes and jacket back on. She can make this quick. In and out. Easy peasy. 

With a quick jump while shaking her limbs out to get rid of her last minute hesitation, she quickly opens her door and steps out before shutting it behind her. No going back now. Locking the door behind her, she starts making her way back down the stairs and out the doors, walking in the direction of the food store. 

Her nerves were still playing up though, eyes darting this way and that as if trying to find a reason for her to panic. ‘It’s okay, the purge hasn’t started yet, all those things are still illegal.’ Is what she keeps telling herself while taking a deep breath. But the fact they won’t be in a few hours was still cause for some panic. 

Arriving at the store, she wizzes around, collecting any good looking snack and throwing it in her basket before hastily paying and leaving. The heavy plastic carrier bag hanging from her fingers gave her reason to think she went a bit overboard. 

Her quickened steps and accelerated breathing were all she could hear for a while. Her walk back to her dorm was supposed to be a quiet one, less and less people were loitering around meaning less and less noises to distract her. 

Especially from the new set of footsteps that have appeared behind her.

As soon as her mind clocked the extra set of footsteps there, it went into overdrive. ‘Who is that? Are they following me? No, you're being delusional, they're just trying to get back home. But are they? They just appeared out of nowhere. Are they going to try and kidnap me? Rape me? Stuff me in a van? Drag me down a dark alleyway and murder me?’

Her mind was racing, steps quickening and breathing silenced under the new threat. ‘Oh god, what if they’re stalking me? Waiting until the purge starts to come and slaughter me? They’re going to kill me. They’re going to kill me. What should I do? What should I do? What should I do?’

And then they were gone. 

It barely registered in her mind that the fast paced footsteps from behind her had vanished. A sharp breath escaped her before her head whipped around on a desperate whim. No one. Not a soul on the path behind her. 

Her shoulders sank with relief and a watery laugh broke free from her trembling lips. ‘I’m losing my mind.’ She thought. Even though that feeling in her gut had faded, it never fully disappeared. Her racing heart never slowed and neither did her footsteps. 

Y/n hurried back to her dorm, almost running through the doors and up the stairs to fumble with her keys and quickly burst in. Double checking she locked the door behind her, and then checking every other lock on her third story apartment. Only when she had made sure they were all secure could she finally relax. 

Her body shivering and hands shaking from the after effects of adrenaline. Her breathing is still a little shaky as she pulls a bunch of pillows and blankets into her tiny living room. Pushing her chair and sofa away to make more space as she lays everything out as neat as she could, making the floor a comfy space for her and her two friends to crash for the purge. 

She empties the snacks from out of the plastic bag and piles them in a nice little corner near the TV. A small stack of movies there for when they’re all waiting for the purge to start. Some cards in a pack were also placed there. 

The three of them are wanting to be as quiet as possible while the purge is going on. Everything locked, curtains drawn, lights off, TV with no volume and only subtitles, quiet games to play in case they got bored, etc. 

They weren’t taking any chances. It was doubtful anything would happen, since nothing really ever did in the dorms. No student here would go as far as murdering somebody, everyone mostly stayed inside, not wanting to risk anything. She only knew of a few people that have snuck out before to rob a few stores, or do some petty revenge like smashing someone's car without getting into trouble.

But overall, it was best to remain quiet. They didn’t want to get murdered because the TV was turned up too loudly and attracted some wrong attention. 

It was 5:15 pm.

This is the time her friends arrived. Knocking some made up code on the slab of wood before messaging just for good measure that it was really them outside. 

After unlocking the door and letting her two good friends inside her dorm she swiftly closes and locks it again. Relieved greetings transpire as well as nervous whispers about the purge and some small gossip of who they think would actually go out this year and who are likely to stay inside. 

The three of them start to make their way around her dorm, closing all the curtains and double checking the locks on all the windows and doors. Especially the balcony and front door. 

After they’ve secured the apartment, they turn off all the necessary lights, flicking on a few electrical lanterns and setting them up around the living room, but away from the windows. They’ve left one lantern in the bathroom and one in her bedroom, both turned off, just in case of emergencies.  

The three of them settle in a spread out pile on the blankets she put down in the living room. Some snacks are passed around already and a movie is slotted into the TV, playing as background noise mostly while they talk.

Erica, a sassy but kind of dumb girl, with choppy shoulder length hair that had been bleached and dyed a light green. She's donned in a crop top and sweatpants, comfy.

Don, a friendly giant, very kind in nature but also a little muscly. He has short black hair and a sculpted jawline. He also came in sweatpants and a baggy white T-shirt, also comfy.

Her two very good, and only, friends here. They’re in a few of her classes and all regularly hang out together. 

“So,” Erica begins after her mouthful of powdered donut. “Who do you think is going to actually purge tonight? Like, actually actually. My moneys on them two hotties in my class.” She finishes, wiggling her eyebrows..

Don hums around his half empty soda can. “Yeah, honestly I wouldn't be surprised if they did.”

Y/n pipes up, “Wait who?” sitting up against the sofa behind her, getting comfy like she's about to hear the gossip of a lifetime.

“Oh, Em, G! You haven’t heard of it? You’ve seriously been, like, living under a rock or something.” Erica says jokingly. Picking apart pieces of her donut and eating them. 

Don perks up too. “Really? You haven't?” Y/n shakes her head in denial as Don shrugs. “I get it, it’s mostly stayed in our class, hasn’t spread much further than that.” He says before crawling forward and rummaging around for more snacks.

“So get a load of this right!” Erica sits up too after finishing her donut. Waving her hands excitedly as she tells her latest gossip. “You know them two really hot upperclassmen right?” She draws out her ‘really’ and waits patiently at the end of her sentence for the other girl's confirmation. 

When she nods in slight confusion, Erica continues, “There were some major rumours in class that the two of them were late this one day because they were beating someone up. And I don't mean like a few slaps or hair pulling, I mean punches. You know?”

Y/n nods again, this time with furrowed brows and Erica continues, “At first, I didn’t believe it, obviously. But then, the two of them came into class and I swear there were blood stains on their clothes. Blood stains! Not to mention all the plasters and bandages all over their hands! I just had to believe it then! Wouldn’t you?”

After the end of her long rant she slumps back against the front of the sofa and mumbles incoherently to herself shaking her head while pouting.

Don, who had been listening silently, pipes up, “It was true, I was actually there for once.”

Y/n’s eyebrows raise in disbelief at what she had just heard. Fighting, here? She couldn’t help but to doubt it, if only just a little. Stuff like that has never happened here. Or at least while she had been here. It was just unheard of.

And for an attack so vicious to result in blood being drawn, then there must have been somewhat of a good reason for it. That was the conclusion she came to.

“I mean, there had to have been a good reason for it.” Y/n says, “They’re pretty nice people aren't they? It is Gojo and Geto were talking about here, right? They’re really popular here too.” Her eyes darted between her two friends, looking for more answers on this unexpected juicy gossip.

Erica sighs wistfully, “No, it got shut down pretty quick, which I guess is why so little people have heard about it. God, would I pay to see them fight though. Their muscles must have looked amazing.” 

They stop talking about it after that, Don getting distracted by the snacks and whining about how she didn’t get his favourite. Erica smacking him with a few pillows and complaining how he’s getting in the way of her movie she was barely even watching. 

Their playful banter did little to distract from her inner turmoil. A small shiver went down her spine again. The memory from earlier in the library resurfacing in her mind. Gojo staring her down, the creepy walk back from the shops and now learning the two had at the very least helped in injuring someone.

It could just be because it was purge day, but everything was beginning to creep her out and she was overthinking again. ‘What if he wants to attack me next? What if all of those things were connected and someone really was following me home? What if he wants to kill me? What if both of them want to kill me? Have I ever done anything to offend them? I haven’t, have I?’ She knew these were far fetched and ridiculous, but she couldn’t help but think of them anyway.

Her spiralling thoughts were halted when a stray pillow smacked her in the face. “Oops, haha, sorry.” Erica sheepishly apologized, bringing her hand up to smooth down Y/n’s ruffled hair. Don was laughing in the background.  

Y/n was stunned for a few seconds before replying, “Oh, don’t worry. How about we put something else on? This movie is kind of boring.” crawling across the piles of pillows and blankets to reach the stack of movies.

This caught the other two’s attention, eagerly rushing to the stack as well to try and get first pick. Arguing for a few more minutes before settling on a movie they all loved. Snuggling back into their original positions.

This was how the next few hours went before the announcement appeared.

It was 6:59 pm.

At exactly 7 on the dot, the TV went black before turning blue, the government announcing the commencement of the purge. Big bold letters and ‘Emergency Broadcast System’ and ‘This is not a test’ were displayed on the screen.

They were all quiet as it played out. The mood quickly turned sombre.

“Weapons of class 4 and lower have been authorized for use during the Purge. All other weapons are restricted.”

Don gulped.

“Government officials of ranking 10 have been granted immunity from the Purge and shall not be harmed.”

Erica huffed.

“Commencing at the siren, any and all crime, including murder, will be legal for 12 continuous hours.” 

Y/n shivered.

“Police, fire, and emergency medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7 am when The Purge concludes.”

She released a shaky breath. The announcement ends with “...A nation reborn.” before stopping. The screen turned black again.

No one moves or says anything. Each of them were frozen in an array of emotions. Fear being the most prominent. 

The silence stretched on for minutes. Eerie in its wake, not even being able to hear other people in their dorm rooms like she normally would.

Eventually, after releasing another shaky breath and rearranging herself with trembling limbs, they all snap back into the present. 

Don coughs and Erica shuffles awkwardly. 

“Cards, anyone?” Y/n meekly speaks up. The other two nod as they sit in a small circle. 

It was 7:36 pm.

This was when the first explosion of some kind was heard by them. Each of them froze in the middle of playing their mostly silent game of cards. The noise was distant, but the impact remained.

A scream from a few doors down echoed in the silent space.

They waited with baited breath for any follow up, but when nothing happened, they slowly relaxed. Each of them assumed it was the explosion that must have scared someone. Sometimes it’s better to think of the positive, rather than what that scream could have been for.

A few minutes later a siren bellows in the distance, a few car alarms wail.

Nothing too bad, but knowing that it could mean someone was being murdered out there didn’t give them any ease.

It was 8:02 pm. 

This is when the banging starts. Y/n thinks it could be a few doors down again. Erica thinks it’s below them and Don thinks it’s above them. 

Wherever it was, it was concerning. 

Erica releases a small nervous chuckle. “Maybe someone is just having a good time?” A fake smile plastered on her face to try and mask her worry. Even she didn’t believe her little theory. Not during a time like this, during The Purge.

It was a few minutes later, after they had quietly resumed their game, that footsteps were heard.

Clacking down the hallway. 

1, 2.

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

1, 2. 

They were walking at a leisurely pace. Taking their time. Strolling down the hallway and getting closer and closer.

All three of them looked towards the door, as if someone were to burst in at any moment.

The footsteps slow before coming to a stop. Right outside her door.

The three of them hold their breath, bodies flinching when a light knock rings out into the open space.

Complete silence.

Another knock.

None of them had even noticed the earlier noises had stopped, too focused on the potential threat now right outside the door. Seemingly wanting someone to open up.

Three pairs of eyes dart between each other. Silent questions trying to push their way out without being heard. A few panicked half shrugs and furrowed brows with downturned lips later, another knock rings out.

This time it was a little louder.

Barely audible whisperings of ‘you go’, ‘no you’, ‘fuck no’, ‘who even is it?’ cut through the silence. No one wanted to ask the question. To even speak a hint of it lest it result in it coming true.

Eventually after a solid minute of panicked, almost silent, squabbling later. A frustrated and frightened Erica pushed herself up. Taking a very obvious deep breath. Eyes closed and silently mumbling to herself before taking a few steps over to the front door.

She tried to be as quiet as she could but each step sounded like it weighed a ton. Every creek and every wobble made to sound the loudest. 

Very quietly bracing her hands upon the door, she leant up on her tiptoes. Peeking into the peephole positioned in the centre of the door.

The two left in the pile of blankets still. Not wanting to even breathe in fear of disturbing whatever was happening in front of them.

A sudden screech of pure panic and fear tore from Erica’s throat. Flailing before landing with a harsh thud on the floor beneath her. Scrambling backwards on her hands and feet, keeping her eyes on the door the entire time.

The two startle and immediately jump up, laboured breathing hindering their lungs from the sudden scare.

“What the fuck? Erica what happened? What was that?” Don frantically whispered. His eyes were also locked on the door. 

Y/n also whispered to her, “Who was that? Erica?” her eyes locked onto her friend, not able to bring herself to look at the door yet.

“It was.. Oh god.. The peep..” Erica wheezed out. The fright took too much out of her with her frantic gasps for air.

A sudden bang echoed into the room. A few more followed before they all realized it was coming from the front door. 

Erica screeched and threw herself back into a standing position, rushing for the kitchen and grabbing any sharp knife her eyes first laid on.

Don stood frozen in fear. Not able to move or barely breathe from the looks of it.

Y/n wasn’t any better herself. Downright terrified. This was her dorm. Her dorm. Which means whoever was outside, was looking for her.

The banging persisted, the person on the other side seemingly determined to get in. This proved correct when the handle started turning whichever way it could. 

She didn’t even realize, terror clouding her senses because when she looked back to her two friends, Don had collapsed into himself, wheezing with little air entering his lungs amidst his panic. Erica was cornered in the kitchen, sobbing, tears flooding her cheeks and ruining her mascara she had in place.

The persistent banging stopped for a second. The faint sound of another pair of footsteps approached from the hallway outside. Muffled talking pursued but it was hard to make anything out, between her pounding heart, Erica’s sobs and the slab of wood in the way, didn’t make for easy hearing.

For Y/n, it seemed there was one second of complete silence. No sobbing, no voices, no distant alarms or explosions, no racing heart, no wheezing lungs. Before chaos sprung onto them.

Suddenly the people outside, because there was another person now, resumed banging on the door. But it didn’t seem like they were ‘just knocking’ anymore. No.

They were trying to break the door down. 

She could see it from the way the door groaned and creaked under the relentless kicking. She couldn't quite tell if they were using their feet, or an object, or whatever. 

All that mattered was that they were trying to get in. And they were going to succeed.

“Move! Hide! We need to hide!” She whisper-yelled. Rushing to Don and tugging on his arm to try and get him to move. He stared at her for a few seconds before his brain caught up, registering what was happening around him. The real danger he was in right now.

“Hide.. Oh god..” He panted, sprinting for the bathroom, the first place his eyes had landed on.

With Don now searching for a place to hide, she ran her way to Erica. Still trying to be as quiet as she could, in the little hopes that they would think she wasn’t here.

“Erica, we need to hide! They’re getting in!” She frantically whispered to her hyperventilating friend. Trying to shake her shoulders, even resorting to lightly slapping her face to try and get her attention. She was desperate.

“Please!” The sound of splintering caught both of their attention. Heads whipping towards the door starting to cave. She wasn’t all that surprised, that slab of wood was a shitty excuse for a door anyway.

Erica suddenly sprung up and dove for the piles of blankets in the living room. Trying to bury herself amongst them, taking the knife with her.

And now that all her friends had been taken care of, she ran for her bedroom. Trying her best not to stumble and fall in the dark hallway. 

As soon as her door came into sight, she gently opened it, gunning for her wardrobe tucked into the corner of the room. Not even looking towards the turned off lantern, she didn’t need them knowing her hiding spot from something so obvious. 

It was already messy anyway, so in her frazzled brain she didn’t bother caring where she tossed piles of clothes and shoes in her room.. They’d hopefully think it was like that in the first place.

After quickly clearing a space big enough for her to curl into, she did just that. Situating herself just right, back pressed against the side of the wardrobe, knees tucked to her chest and pressed against the boxes in front of her. She was sitting on old shirts she hadn’t seen for months.

Hearing the door breaking even further, she grabbed any clothes within her reach and threw them over herself. Shutting the door when she was mostly covered, she could have sworn she could hear laughter coming from the hallway.

A loud crash and splintering tore through the air. She knew it was her front door. And now they were inside. 

Her hands slowly went up to cup around her mouth, trying to muffle her breathing as much as she could. Her body froze. Even when she already began to feel muscle cramps settling in, she dared not move. She forced herself to breathe slowly. Every inhale a struggle along with a reminder that she was still alive at this very moment. Even if she was convinced she wouldn’t be for much longer. 

The thought brought tears to her eyes. The original shock wears from her body and settles into something akin to despair. 

Her throat started clamping up, muscles seizing and throbbing with the need to cry. 

It was the thudding of footsteps that shook her out of it. Snapping her half way back into a nightmarish reality. 

She gulped. Closing her eyes and straining her ears for any information they were willing to receive.

Just as she thought. Two pairs of footsteps. 

With every thud of a shoe or a spike in their muffled talking, her body would tremble. 

It remained like this for a few more minutes. The footsteps or talking occasionally pausing. 

It was during one of these silences, where a different sound was heard. She couldn’t identify the exact sounds, just ones of commotion. They were still all muffled. And then she heard muffled yelling. 

It sounded so dulled, between the walls and layers of wood and clothes, she could barely make out anything, her ears straining for any hint as to what was happening. Being left in the dark like this, literally and figuratively, was terrifying her. 

And then this horrible, awful noise carried its way between the cracks in the wardrobe. Crunching. Cracking. Stomps. 

That muffled yelling from before kept getting cut off. Eventually dwindling down into a barely audible groan. Those thuds never seemed to stop either. Never ending, crunching, cracking, and now wet thuds. 

Her brain was trying its hardest to process, to catch up with the information that it has been provided with. 

More footsteps, only one pair, accompanied with muffled laughter. And a more distinct sound traveling through the air. 

A scream.

Even more laughter, hurried footsteps and pleas of ‘no’, ‘please’, ‘don’ts’. 

It was now, with the wet stomps still in the background, her screeching friend, that eager laugh, that her brain had finally caught up.

She was going to be sick.

They’re hurting them. Killing them.

Her friends.

Her body moved out of its own violation. Shaky hands and feet kicking and pushing their way out of the pile of clothes. Wardrobe door swinging open with a creak.

She collapsed out of it. Slumped on the floor, dry heaving. Her lungs not seeming to take enough air in but yet holding in too much. She couldn’t function. Fear overwhelmed every part of her. As well as grief. 

Her ears were ringing and she was left gasping, drool dripping onto the hard floor beneath her as a result of her attempted vomiting. Eyes wide open, blurry when she tapped back into her mind. 

Tears, clouding her vision and dripping audibly on the floorboards below her. 

In the distance she could hear muffled talking. Two men, she could make out more clearly. Not only that, but squelching, wet, gooey noises seemed to mingle in the air. Gurgling was the next before silence.

A minute passed, maybe two before the footsteps started up again. Those goddamn footsteps. 

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

1.. 2.

But they were slower than before. Steady. Taking their time. 

And getting closer.

Her instincts kick in, blinking profusely to try and clear her eyes from the tears, looking up and darting around before landing on the space under her bed.

She wouldn’t have enough time to fix her spot back in the wardrobe. She couldn’t run past them, not even in her best state which she certainly wasn’t in right now. She had considered her bedroom window as an option, but it was locked, which would take time to open. Not even mentioning the fact she was on the third floor, so jumping out would break at least something important. They would be quick to notice as well, and if they came for her, it was likely they would decide to chase her down.

Under her bed seemed to be her best option at the moment, and she was running out of time. Scrambling as quietly as she could, she slid herself directly under her bed, trying to center herself in the middle of it, tucking herself into a tight ball.

The footsteps stopped right outside her bedroom door, she had enough sense to shut it on her way in, thank god. But that clearly wouldn’t be enough to stop them. 

Almost as if the person was teasing her, they slowly clicked the door open. The distinct creak she had grown accustomed to over the months making itself known. 

Her muscles are tense, tightening in the presence of her predators. 

In the dark space from under her bed and in her room, it was obvious when the light from inside the hallway started spilling in the more the door got pushed open. In the vague depths of her mind it registered that they must’ve either turned the hall lights on, had taken one of her lanterns,  or were carrying one of their own.

Her lungs were burning with the effort to keep her body running with the little air she was allowing them to have, all for the sake of trying to keep quiet.

It was all too silent once again, only for a second or two before the second pair of footsteps came towards her. A lot more hasty compared to the other ones. 

Her breath silently hitched, the new person pushed their way into the room, stepping past their company before a thunk was heard. The sound forced her body to startle, jolting her muscles and kick starting her trembling again. An uncontrollable reaction to the fear she was under, the unrelenting motions causing a deep ache in her ribs.

The sound of rustling was now heard. It seemed they were looking for something. ‘They’re going to kill me. They’re digging around for a weapon to stab me with, to bash my head in, to murder me like they did my friends. I’m dead. I’m dead, I’mdeadI’mdeadI’mdead-’

Her racing thoughts consuming her fear riddled mind failed in picking up the sound of the other pair of footsteps slowly creeping round to the end of her bed. 

The person paused, silently crouching down low before a pair of hands reached under.

The sudden tight grip on her ankles followed up by the sudden pull had her screeching. Pure terror flooding her veins. She had been yanked out from under her bed, lying sprawled on the floor and gazing up at the towering man stationed above her. 

Her lungs burned, seizing up before a sickening scream escaped her. Fuelled by genuine, unrestrained horror. 

They had found her.

One of her lanterns they had brought in illuminated his face in a haunting light. The darkened shadows stretching and contorting behind him to create the most grim image for her mind to paint. Not that it was far off.

A foot standing on either side of her hips, straddling her if it wasn’t for his standing position. Hands nestled comfortably back in his trouser pockets now they had done the job of retrieving her. A comfortable looking long-sleeved shirt adorned his figure. Dark splatters starting from the bottom of his shoes and creeping their way up his legs, tapering off into a few spots that painted one of his cheeks.

An easy smile softly ingrained on his face, followed by gentle looking eyes peering down at her if it wasn’t for the malicious spiral she found herself paralyzed in. Dark locks of hair extended down his back, past where she could see from her position, with the top layers sectioned off and tied back into a bun.

His mouth opened and he spoke. “Well, well. Look what I’ve caught for us Satoru.”

Satoru. The other man must be Satoru Gojo, and this was Suguru. Suguru Geto. The most popular guys she knew, the supposedly kindest. And then staring in the library, the walk back from the shops, the gossip her most likely dead friend had told her.

Her body suddenly felt like it was pumped full of adrenaline. Pushing herself up as fast as she could, using the bed as support all the while stumbling over her numb riddled legs. She took off, running towards the open door she so desperately wanted to pass through. 

A sudden arm snatched her from around her waist and she screeched. Pure instinct driving her at this point as she scratched and kicked and flailed in his, Satoru Gojo’s, hold.

The sound of something dropping before his other arm came round, collecting both her wrists in one hand of his. His grip tightened the more she fought. Her body pressed tight against his, her back to his front. His head situated itself on her shoulder, tucking over and pressing his cheek to hers even while she cried and panted and kicked.

She could feel his grin pressing against the side of her face. “Such a pretty little thing we have here. Can’t let her get away so easily now, can we? Not after all the trouble we’ve gone through.” The last part practically whispered into her ear as she turned her face as far away as possible from him. 

A little laugh boasted out from Geto. “Of course not.” He strolled over to them, bending down to pick up what Gojo had dropped in order to restrain her.

Rope.

Fucking rope.

The moment her eyes zoned in and processed what Geto was unravelling in his hands she tried to fight back even harder. Eyes flooding with tears that spilled down her cheeks. Short mumblings of ‘no’ being repeated over and over while becoming louder until she was yelling. 

“Please don’t do this! Let me go! Please, please.. Stop!” She shrieked while sobbing, convinced they were going to kill her or torture her or something horrible like that.

Gojo walked the two of them to the edge of her bed before forcefully pushing her down, manhandling her onto her front and bending her arms to rest pressing against her back.  

She sobbed into her ruffled sheets as she felt Geto fastening the rope tight around her wrists, the rough material digging into and pinching the sensitive skin. Raw and red marks already forming amidst her struggle. 

Her legs still hung off the bed, trying their best to kick and hopefully injure one or both of them, but she knew it was a losing battle. None of her landing blows made them falter in any way.

When her wrists were successfully restrained Geto kept them pressed to the small of her back while Gojo let go and reached down to grab her ankles. Pulling them up and bending her legs at the knees while they both worked in finishing the task of tying her up.

When they finally stepped back to admire the work they’d successfully done, Y/n deflated. Tears soaking into her bed in which she rested on top of. Her lungs still burned, having never stopped. The hogtied position she had been forced into leaving her nothing to work with in terms of escaping. Not that she could think clearly anyway. The distress she was under proved too much.

“Oh, Shh Sh Sh… There, there, sweet thing. Settle down for us now. We aren’t going to kill you.” Cooed, who she could only guess right now was Gojo.

Geto reached forward from his position of kneeling on the bed, gentle soothing pets stroking her hair. Her sobbing tapering off into hiccupped breathing even while flinching with every touch. “There you go, good girl. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

He pulled away from her, stepping down off the bed and heading towards the previously discarded bag on the floor Y/n hadn’t noticed before..

Y/n slowly turned her head round, no longer pressed into her sheets. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, swollen from all the crying she’d been doing. Little hiccups and groans left her while her lungs tried to recover. She’d given up struggling right now, it had done nothing but cause her pain as the rope dug and squeezed the skin of her wrists and ankles. 

Gojo piped up from behind her, only now feeling the heat from his legs pressing into hers causing her to flinch. “You know, this would’ve gone a whole lot easier if you had just let us in sweetheart.” She could practically hear the smug smile in his voice. “Look at where you are now, tied up all pretty for us. Ripe for the taking.” He pressed closer to her at that, voice practically dripping with need. 

She whined in fear and started squirming at his words. Panic flooding her senses again for just a second before a sharp tug to her hair had her yelping, halting her movements.

“I thought I told you to quit that.” Geto was back to kneeling on the bed in front of her, his hand gripping tight onto her hair, eyes narrowed. 

Her bottom lip trembled, breaths picking up with every second he glared down at her. 

“Don’t be so mean, Sugu.” Gojo said, a teasing lilt in his voice. 

Geto glanced back at him before humming and letting go of his harsh grip, her scalp burning in turn. “I suppose you’re right. She’ll have plenty of time to learn when we take her back home.”

Gojo hummed and she felt him leaning away from her, hearing him crouch down and fiddle with something from the bag as well. 

“Back home?..” She stuttered, voice hoarse and throat dry.

Geto looked back down at her, amusement painting his face. “Yes. Home.”

“Where..” She started, face formed in a twist of concern and confusion. “Please.. I.. Just let me go. I won’t- I won’t tell anyone, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I’ll do anything, please..” She gasped out, tears gathered freshly in her eyes again, voice cracking every few seconds. 

An amused eyebrow raised with the hint of a smirk at the corner of his mouth was all she got as a response. 

Gojo had come back, reaching round and fastening a strip of duct tape around her mouth in a sudden flurry of movement. Giving her no time to process what he had done until after he had done it. 

She cried out, the sound muffled thanks to the tape, worried eyes darting around in panic as she tried squirming again for the third time. 

Gojo pressed up behind her once again. “You’re not going anywhere, sweet pea! You’re ours now. We’ve had you picked out for a long time now.” The joy in his voice didn’t fail to put her on edge, his words doing their part in helping the tears gathered in her waterline to finally spill down her cheeks. Wetting the tape situated over her lips.

“He’s right.” Geto replied. Bringing one of his hands up to show what he had collected from the bag a few moments ago. The mobile phone in his hands glowed brightly in the dark room, the lamp from before having been moved, the light now dim.

“We’ll bring you back with us soon enough, but we still have a few more hours to kill before that. And why waste them.” Gojo said, the grin in his voice unsettling her, keeping her frozen in fear.

An easy smile pulled at Geto’s cheeks at that, head tilting to the side to gaze down at their pretty prey. 

“Well what are you waiting for then, Satoru?”

A pause. Smile pulling into a predatory grin.

“Have at it.”

[biblio-smia]

some fake dating with peter parker plzz<3

"Can I have your number?"

The horrifying question pulls you out of your work and into a waking nightmare as your eyes fall onto a boy, around your age, standing over your lonely library table, phone held out towards you expectantly.

You laugh, because it's your first instinct to, forced and too loud.

"Oh, I'm okay," you say nervously, hoping it's enough to wave him off.

The boy stands, stunned, wondering if you'd misheard. "I asked for your number," he repeats through his own forced laugh, inching closer to you, his phone only inches from your face.

Discomfort pricks at your skin as you bite your lip, unsure now of what to do. Your eyes stare directly at your now dim computer screen, your own reflection visible, your eyes not daring to look up at the stranger's.

As the screen of your laptop finally turns black you catch the glimpse of another stranger behind you before your head snaps to the shuffle of movement beside you. Another boy, this one tall and brunette, slides into the chair next to yours comfortably. Two pairs of eyes have fallen on him, yours particularly wide in surprise.

God, why you?

"Hey," he says with an easy smile, eyes focused solely on you. "Sorry I'm late." His hand reaches for yours, fingers linking together too naturally.

You recognize him now - you've seen him around campus a few times, definitely, but you're sure you've never spoken to each other before today.

"It's fine," you say softly, trying to wipe the shock off of your face to not flush all this new stranger's efforts down the drain.

"You could've just said you had a boyfriend," the boy standing over you scoffs, phone finally tucked away and arms crossed.

Words falter as he walks away - though your attention is brought back to your hand, still interlocked with a stranger's. Your intense gaze makes the boy next to you redden and suddenly retract his hand, nerves beginning to pick up now that he has no audience to act for.

"I'm so sorry," he begins immediately. "You looked really uncomfortable, I'm sorry if I made you more uncomfortable." His hands are raised in surrender while his knee bounces nervously, eyes glancing for a quick escape.

"That was pretty quick thinking," you offer with a small smile. "Thanks for getting rid of him."

The boy smiles back, just slightly. There's still guilt in his eyes as he looks over you and your makeshift work station, hands moving to grab his few personal items.

"I'm sorry, I totally interrupted your study session," he laughs awkwardly, shouldering the bag he'd dropped on the table so carelessly earlier.

"Well, technically..." The rest of your thought fades as you focus on the sudden flinging of a bag back onto the table.

Your eyebrows furrow as you tilt your head, ready to ask the boy why he'd thrown his bag back down immediately before you notice how intensely he's looking at you.

"I don't think it's safe for me to go yet."

Something about his gaze tells you not to look behind you despite how badly you want to; you're sure it has something to do with a certain guy from earlier.

"I can take care of myself," you defend.

"I'm sure you can," he says in a tone so genuine it catches you off-guard. "I just can't, in good conscious, leave until he does."

Your lips part slightly at how much care a stranger holds for your well-being. It's a little strange, but not in the way that makes you shiver; strange in a way that makes your eyes wide and your cheeks warm.

"We could leave first," you suggest, closing the lid of your abandoned laptop. "I'm pretty much done anyway." It was a blatant lie, but there was no way for him to know that. Really, your motivator was not wanting to hold up any more of his time; how indebted would you be?

"Are you sure?" He only moves to pick his things up when you nod, accepting the interlocking arm you offer with red cheeks. He walks with you out of the library, stopping a good distance away from the primary doors and hopefully, any onlookers.

"Thank you..."

"Peter," he all but laughs, finding too much humor in the fact that you don't even know his name. "Peter Parker."

"Thank you, Peter. That was very nice of you."

"I try," Peter grins easily at you, taking a few steps backward as he waves goodbye. "See you around?"

"Yeah!" You call, though it's not certain; you don't have his number (as ironic as that is). "I'll see you!"

As Peter's back turns towards you and yours eventually turns towards him, you can't help the tingling of your fingers where they had been interlocked with his.

Nothing is certain. As far as you know, you may not see him for another couple of weeks.

Your next meeting will just have to be written in the stars.

masterlist

[jabeur]

2 ppl liked this (grazieeeeee <3) i'm taking it as a yes so. basically how do i start saying no when i've been saying yes all the time????

ok but like if i genuinely ask you guys for advice will anyone listen to me orrrrr

[gguk-n]

Balancing Act (Daniel Riccardo x Jung Hoseok's manager!Reader)

No face claim. Pictures from Pinterest

Wishing Daniel all the best with his future endeavours 😭😭

Series Masterlist

{Reader's POV}

When I had joined BigHit, I has started working as an assistant to BTS's manager. He was a kind and helpful man, who made transitioning to the job so easy. The boys were also very kind and understanding. It was a blast to work with them honestly. Later, as I gained more experience I was assigned to other groups. I did miss hanging out with the boys; I missed Hobi the most.

After I had stopped working with BTS, that was when I realised that I had a crush on Hoseok. I told myself it was due to the close proximity or the fact that he was just kind, but he was kind to everyone. And I decided to bury those feelings since K-Pop agencies didn't take dating lightly. Even though I barely saw Hobi at this point, my heart would always beat really hard and I would find myself looking for him in common spaces.

Whenever Hobi had individual schedules, I was brought back. The first time I had to work with him after I realised that I love him was nerve wrecking to say the least but Hobi's energy made me feel right at ease and I've never felt so relaxed before. I practically became his personal manager after Hobi started having individual schedules. He was a joy to be around and his energy and laughter was infectious. The tiny crush I had denied having had turned into a full blown infatuation. But, what was I supposed to do when Hobi would smile and sweetly greet me, even going as far to get me coffee. I couldn't not love him.

I was travelling with Hobi for his performances and the final promotion shooting before he was supposed to go for his mandatory military enlistment when I realised I had to tell him. The major reason being that I felt like maybe he liked me. It was the way his eyes would look at me or the way he would softly utter my name. I just felt it in my bones, he liked me. Oh, how wrong I was.

"Hope, congratulations on a successful promotion and preparing so much for ARMY" I said patting his back. "Thanks. I couldn't have done it without you" he laughed his infectious belly laugh. "No no, you are very talented. You could've managed with out me" I insisted. "Nope, my english is so bad, I would've never left my hotel room if not for you" he reasoned. I smiled at him, this was the right moment. "Don't mention it Hobi, just doing my job. I wanted to talk to you about something" I said, it made my tummy rumble and knot up. "Sure" he said turning his full attention on me. I breathed in deeply before saying, "I like you a lot, I've liked you for a while. Will you go out with me?" I asked looking at my feet. I heard Hobi sigh, this wasn't a good thing; "I'm sorry, Manager Y/L/N." he mumbled. The last name hurt. "I've never liked you that way and I'm sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression. You are a good friend and colleague who I'm grateful to have but I don't feel that way" he apologised. I laughed dryly, "Yeah, it's okay." I sighed trying to hold back tears. "Let's still be friends. I don't want to lose a friend because of my stupid mistake" I croaked out. "You won't. I promise" he said trying to hug me. I walked back. "I have to give the company report on your schedule and stuff. Good luck with the military. I'll see you once you're back" I shouted out backing away. I had tears in my eyes as I turned the corner.

I may have cried myself to sleep for a few days after that but knowing Hoseok was leaving for the military and I wouldn't have to see him for a while made things easier. I knew I needed a change of scenery and pace so I took a few months off and went on a vacation.

I was in Spain when I met Daniel. He was charming, charismatic and easy to get along with. He would make me laugh and had great joy remembering how we met. "Excuse me" I asked tapping the tall man in front of me. He was wearing a hat and sun glasses. "Hi, Nice to meet you. Would you like a photograph or an autograph?" he asked turning around. I was so confused. "No, I just wanted directions. Can you help?" I asked. He tipped his sunglasses down his nose, scanned me up and down, "You are breath taking" he whispered. I felt a blush creep up my face. "Thank you" I mumbled pointing to a name on my phone, "Do you know where this is?" I asked. "Sadly, I don't but my friend does." he said calling his friend 'Carlos', he sounded Spanish when he spoke to me and gave me the directions. I thanked the two men and started walking in the directions when the taller man with an Australian accent ran up to me, "Hey! I'm Daniel and I don't know if this is crazy but you are so pretty and I just can't let you walk away so would you like to go on a date with me?" he asked. "Sorry, I'm trying to get over someone right now" I said apologetically. "Nothing better than a shoulder to lean on as you get over a stupid man" he winked. "Let's have a drink together. You can tell me all about your relationship woes and I will patiently wait for when you are ready to date me" he laughed. "I don't drink with strangers" I pointed out, walking away.

After that, I met him in Austria again. It was as if the stars were aligning and that's when I finally agreed to have coffee with him. He was a great listener and would give good advice. As I spoke to him and got to know him, we did end up on a date, a few weeks after Austria. I was continuing my trip in Europe and he had work in Europe, it seemed. It was only after a few dates, did he tell me that he was a Formula One Driver. I almost didn't believe him until I Googled him. I may have spent way too much of my time watching Daniel Riccardo funny videos and his interviews and his race highlights.

We decided to keep our relationship on the down low for a while since I did have to go back to work after my vacation. The vacation was the best thing I did for myself. Daniel would visit me if he was at a race near by which was many months later since he was in Singapore and Japan but I cherished every moment I got to spend with him. After his season was over, he was in Seoul to spend some of his holidays with me. I loved waking up to Daniel in bed or to a nice cooked meal when I got back from work. He would joke about being my stay at home wife and we would laugh as we enjoyed the meal. We would explore the streets of South Korea and even going on small weekend getaways so I could show Daniel around.

He did return to Australia to spend time with his family but we would constantly be texting each other or on call. After almost a year of dating, Daniel asked me to come to a race of his, specifically Spain since that was the country where we first met. I cleared up my calendar and I was off.

danielricciardo

Liked by y/n.y/l/n and 1,298,032 others

danielriccardo Happy 1 year baby!!🥰🥰I've never been happier than I've been with you!! I love you!!❤️❤️

y/n.y/l/n aww!! You make me the happiest. Love you too babe❤️❤️ landonorris both of you are like the otters that hug each other while floating away.🫢Congratulations btw❤️ maxverstappen1 congratulations to the cute couple❤️Hope you won't forget me Daniel🥲 user7 OMG!! They are literally the same version of each other🥹🥹 user8 I need a boyfriend like Daniel😭😭 user9 The photography skills😘😘 user10 It's so cute!! Congratulations on your 1 year anniversary❤️❤️

y/n.y/l/n

Liked by danielriccardo, uramyhope and 356,930 others

y/n.y/l/n Happy 1 year to the man who never fails to make my heart flutter!!😭😭Thank you for being the best boyfriend ever!!😘😘Love you more than I can explain🥰🥰

danielriccardo you're gonna make me cry.😭Love you most!!❤️❤️ y/bff/user both of you are so cute, I'm feeling very single😭😭 user11 I've known her since she started in BigHit, can't believe I might watch her get married😭 user12 both of them are happy viruses😌😌 user13 cutest couple on and off the grid🥹🥹 user14 Hybe should sign Daniel, he can be their model😏😏 user15 they are making me believe in love🥺🥺

After the Spanish race, I wasn't able to join him any other races due to work until that fateful call; "hi babe" I chirped. "hey" he greeted, his voice heavy. "What happened?" I asked. "Nothing" he hummed. "Don't lie to me" I reprimanded. "Nothing gets past you, does it?" he chuckled. "Nope" I grinned. "Now spill Danny" I prompted. "It's just.... they might be booting me by the next race" he sulked. "What? Are they crazy? How could they do that? Is this allowed? Can I file a complaint?" I rambled. He laughed. "No, and it's okay. It was gonna happen, I had a feeling" he said. "Now I feel bad, I should've taken time off to see my wonderful boyfriend race" I sulked. "It's okay, you can come to Singapore" he pointed out. "yes!! We'll celebrate!! It's your last race in F1 and we're going to go out with a bang" I said already making plans in my head. Daniel smiled at me, "I can't wait"

I flew to Singapore on Thursday; I will always regret not going to more of his races. We had a blast, there was a rumour going around that Daniel was leaving but there was no official announcement so he couldn't say anything. I spent the better half of the weekend consoling Daniel and trying to make the best of the situation. After the race and the interviews, we walked out of the paddock hand in hand, "I'm so proud of you. Being in a sport for 12-13 years and giving it your all. Being smart, talented and wonderful, being one of the best drivers and helping others learn from you all with a smile is hard, in any field let alone something like formula one. Being a friend when you are all competitors is a talent. I love you so much for doing so well" I said, stopping to cup his cheeks and kissing him. "I love you Y/N" he said in tears. "I love you more" I smiled. "No more crying, you are the best driver" I stated. "To you" he corrected. "And that's all that matters Riccardo" I pointed out. "yes it does" he hummed and started walking out hand in hand. "I'm gonna mooch off you now" he laughed. "I will gladly let you mooch off me" I smiled. "Love you Dan" I said taking his hand to my lips and pressing a kiss. "And I love you" he kissed my hand.

We were both saps but we were each others sap. I couldn't have hoped to meet someone better than him and some one who loves me more than him.

[nicksolemnlyswears]

WAYS TO COME UNDONE

this is part 2 of WAYS TO DESTRESS but can be read as a standalone

summary: coriolanus keeps his promise about making you squirt all over him. what better way to do it than in front of the mirror.

pariring: young! coriolanus snow x capitol! reader

word count: 4.3k

warnings: 18+, smut, cursing, fingering, sex in front of mirror, squirting, pussy spanking, p in v, use of safe word, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it people), I DESPERATELY NEED A CORYO IN MY LIFE

a/n: hi 🌚 many wanted this, myself included hehe. it took a turn towards the end where it basically wrote itself. i have no control over what tickles my brain. i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do. hopefully this oneshot shows more about the machinations of their relationship.

requests open ✨

From the moment Coryo showed you the racy clip of him using you while asleep, you have not been able to stop the waves of heat that consume your cunt.

You're a stellar student who always concentrates on the lectures and participates in class. Today, you find yourself in the back of the classroom, daydreaming about Coriolanus and his tongue. Focusing was out of the picture for you as you tried not to sneak your hand between your thighs and soothe the ache.

One of the many reasons your relationship works so well is that both of you are extremely perverted. Coriolanus has always been more in tune with that side of himself, but you needed assistance to bring that side out. Coriolanus saw it in you long before you did, and he patiently gauged it out and molded it to fit his crooked ways.

It's why Coriolanus using you while you were knocked cold has you acting this way. He pleasured himself when you were at your most vulnerable, and instead of feeling violated, you thanked him. You savor that instead of finding another whore to fuck his frustration out, he stays with you, no matter the state. If that makes you sick, then be it.

When your last class was over, you rushed to the apartment. You needed Coriolanus to stop this burning inside you. Sadly, he's a teacher's pet and workaholic who only managed to get home at eight at night.

He walks into the apartment calmly, humming under his breath while you watch him like a hawk. Coryo sees you on the living room couch 'lounging' and approaches you to leave a kiss on your head. Your eye twitches when he announces he's going to shower.

His upturned lips give him away. He's tormenting you. As if waiting for him all day wasn't torture enough. It could be worse, though he could've stayed longer at the lab. God knows he has a ton of experiments to work on.

With a huff, you follow him into the bedroom.

"How was your day, darling?" He asks, taking his clothes off.

He's like a masterpiece that has escaped a museum. His fair skin is unblemished except for the scars on his back that you've spent hours running your fingers over. Sometimes, he feels them burn, a reminder of what he's done in the past, but then you're there kissing over them to ease the pain.

"Long," you dryly respond, crossing your arms, inadvertently accentuating your chest.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Coryo says humorously, stepping into the steaming shower.

The foggy glass hides him from you, but you remain watching by the bathroom door. Despite your short answers, he continues to talk to you, successfully getting under your skin.

He's entertained by your lingering presence. Privacy is not in your vocabulary anymore. Coriolanus likes it when you get this needy. It's like an experiment where he tests how far you're willing to go.

It's not complicated; all you have to do is ask, and he'll give you the world, but you're too modest for your own good. It prevents you from coming right out with it. You could've had him the moment he stepped into the apartment if you had only asked.

You look at him hopefully when he steps out of the shower. Shamelessly, you take every inch of him. Coriolanus strong shoulders, his chiseled chest and abs, his pretty pink cock that hangs half hard most of the time.

He deprives you of it as he wraps a towel around his hips. Coriolanus approaches you, water droplets falling from his blonde hair and down his body.

Coriolanus is so close to you, and when you think he'll dip his head down to kiss you, he grabs your hips and moves you to the side to give himself passage into the bedroom. "'Excuse me."

You want to throw him with the vase of roses settled on the bathroom counter. You resist since you need him to be conscious for what you have planned. You're aware of how Coriolanus can read you like a book. So why isn't he asking about your mood or if you need anything?

He sits against the headboard, wearing only his pajama bottoms, his cock clearly outlined by the fabric. Coriolanus doesn't wear underwear to bed, he doesn't like the tight fabric when he's asleep. Having you hugging him throughout the night is enough.

With a huff, you strut over to the bed and straddle his lap. Expecting it, Coriolanus reaches for your hips, holding you tight onto him.

"Do it again," you say, placing your hands on his chest and provocatively arching your back as if offering yourself to him.

"What, darling?" He asks, quirking an eyebrow. He tilts his head towards you as if he didn't hear you properly.

You roll your eyes, annoyed. "Make me squirt," you say blatantly. It sounds wrong coming from your lips.

Coriolanus chuckles, shaking his head, "I said another time, darling. I'm tired tonight."

You punch his naked chest weakly, with your frown turning deeper. He grabs your hand midway through the air as you try to smack him again.

Amused at your boldness, he opens your palm and laces your fingers together. He kisses the back of your hand and holds it to his chest.

"You are mean and cruel, Coriolanus," you spit out, hoping to annoy him by using his full name. Maybe this will make him do it or at least provoke him to do something.

"You knew that when you accepted to marry me." His gaze hardens as he taps on the engagement ring on your fourth finger.

It glints delicately, catching people's attention and letting them know you're taken. He spent months searching for the right ring for you. Coriolanus had to find the perfect balance: nothing too simple where it would pass unseen but nothing too gaudy where you wouldn't wear it.

"I don't care how cruel you are to others as long as it's not me," you respond, cradling his jaw in your hand.

"Give me a good reason why I should do it," he asks, kissing your palm.

"I'll do anything, Coryo. I'll suck you off in the lab, cockwarm you in my father's office, let you tie me up, fuck my throat, anything! Hell, I'll even let you try anal again," you huff, winding yourself up.

You must really want it if you brought up anal. It's the one thing you've tried and haven't wanted to do again. You're pretty open to his suggestions, but that one is your hard limit.

He won't make you do it again. Seeing you needy like this is enough. Although he might take your offer of blowing him under the desk in his lab.

"You make a compelling case," he hums, looking at you carefully. You're flushed without him even touching you, and your nipples are hard under your nighty.

This isn't a whim, your body is visibly begging for him. Coriolanus has to pat himself on the back. This is all his doing.

"Coryo, you don't know how many times I've watched that video," you say as if to prove how much you need him.

"Kiss me," Coriolanus sighs, giving in.

You slam your lips against his, eagerly kissing him until you're breathless. Your fingers curl around his hair, tugging the strands and making him groan into your mouth. Taking the opportunity, you slip your tongue into his mouth, tasting him.

Coriolanus smacks a hand down on your ass cheek, leaving a red imprint behind. In retaliation, your teeth bite harshly onto his lower one, causing a drop of blood to surface.

"I love you, darling," he growls as his eyes darken with lust, and he cups your face with both his hands. You've turned so bold under his tutelage, stealing pages from the book he wrote.

"Yeah, I love you too, come on," you pant, taking off your night dress to reveal yourself to him.

"I've created a monster," Coryo murmurs, pawing on one of your breasts as he mouths the other one.

"Don't act like you don't like it," you moan, rolling your hips down on his bulge. Your lack of underwear is apparent as a wet patch forms on his pants.

Coryo involuntarily unwraps you from his body as he stands from the bed. You chase his lips with a whine when he pulls away from you. Coriolanus sets a chair in front of the floor-length mirror in the corner of the room, sitting on it and motioning for you to sit on his lap.

If he's going to give you what you want, he will do it his way. You need him to make you squirt, so he's going to have you watch so you never forget about the moment. He'll engrave in your brain how it was he who made it possible.

With his hands on your waist, he turns you to face the mirror and pulls you down to sit with your back to his chest. Just like a doll, he positions you with your legs propped up on his knees, exposing your dripping cunt.

"No matter what, you're going to look at yourself in the mirror, or there will be consequences," he growls into your ear, licking the shell of your ear and biting your earlobe.

"Yes, Coryo," you moan, excitedly biting your lip.

Looking at him through the mirror, you notice his wicked stare. He begins to roll your clit on his fingers steadily, earning a sigh of contentment from you.

He's memorized everything about your body. Each stage of arousal is burned into his brain at this point. It's how he knows you've been touching yourself today.

"How many times did you touch yourself?" He questions, digging his nose into your neck to smell the remnants of your lotion and perfume.

"Two before I left for university, one during lunch, and two when I got back," you admit between moans as your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

You were late to class because of Coryo's video. Still, your arousal persisted so much that you locked yourself in one of the bathrooms of the university and rubbed your clit till your legs shook with an orgasm. You walked out of the bathroom, ashamed of your behavior, but it got you throughout the rest of the day.

When you got home, you fell on the couch, pressing one of the decorative cushions between your legs. You rocked against it for nearly an hour, edging yourself to give Coriolanus time to get home. The last one was in the shower with the detachable head minutes before he arrived.

"Five times and one in public," he chides with a click of his tongue, "What do I do with you?"

Your confession is music to Coriolanus' ears, but you can't know that. So he delivers five sharp slaps down your spread cunt. He covers the reddening flesh with his hand, putting pressure on it to ease the sting.

"Ow, Coryo," you cry, digging your nails into his thighs where you are barely hanging on.

"You should've come to me. I could've helped you much more than your fingers," he tells you mockingly.

Uncovering your cunt there is a dash of red on your skin. Coriolanus didn't hold back with his slaps. It's hard to explain why, but you like it when he manhandles you like that. He makes you cry just to console you later.

"You're busy," you sniff, hiccuping when he gathers your slick to spread it over the stinging skin.

Coriolanus takes his studies and lab work seriously; you never wish to interrupt him in any way, no matter how many times he reassures you it's okay.

"I'm never too busy for you, darling," he responds, resting his chin on your shoulder. His touch returns to your clit, rubbing it round and round until you're moaning out his name.

Finally, Coriolanus slips his finger into you, giving you the relief you desperately want. Even if it is your pleasure, his fingers are better than yours. They are long and strong and know precisely how to curve to give you the pleasure you seek.

The relief that takes over you is so much that you let your head fall back with your eyes closed. In an instant, the fingers are gone, and another slap is deposited on your sensitive skin.

"Eyes on the mirror," Coriolanus reminds you. He wants you to see how he's the only one that can make you crumble.

His free hand, which had been wrapped like a vice around your waist, comes up to your chest to squeeze your breasts and nipples. His eyes darken as he observes how your supple flesh spills between his fingers.

"Look at how pretty you are," he whispers in your ear as he adds another finger into your dripping cunt.

A sense of bashfulness settles on your chest as you do as he says. You follow his hand as it trails down your sweaty skin, your face and chest flushed because of the heat. He traces your nipples with his fingers, and you watch how they turn hard in response. Next, he touches your stomach, his fingers ghosting your belly button from which he has licked his own cum from.

It's like your body harbors memories of Coriolanus Snow, from the multicolored lovebites in your chest and neck to the thick arousal that coats your thighs. Each one was caused by him, for him.

Sensing your mind is slipping, he lightly taps your thighs, bringing you back to focus on the body he considers so beautiful. He takes his wet fingers out of you and spreads your cunt even farther with them.

He traces your pearl, which is bright red, frustrated from arousal and the constant touching it has endured today. Then, your pussy lips that puff out as blood surges to it.

Coriolanus gathers the drop of slick that hangs from your fleshy pink opening. "See? All beautiful and all mine," he says. Only now does he allow you to turn from the mirror because it's to kiss him.

Remembering why you're in this position, Coriolanus slides two fingers into you, fucking them with precision into your g spot. No more teasing and prolonging.

"It feels so good, Coryo," you whine, holding onto his arm as your hips grind further into his hand.

"It looks good, too," he mutters, hypnotized by the way your cunt swallows his fingers. Not even your nails digging into his arm snaps him away from the pretty sight.

With hooded eyes, you keep looking into the mirror, waiting for the moment Coryo promised you. Coriolanus hand presses down on the spot above your mound. It's the key to make you squirt. His fingers bully your spot more forcefully, feeling your walls clench with an impending orgasm.

"Oh, fuck, C-coryo," you choke out, breathing heavily. It's like an orgasm is coming but so much better than the needy, desperate ones from today. It feels much more fulfilling.

"Relax for me," he prompts, slowing his pace. You're always so fucking tense even as he fucks you senseless.

"Ah, ah, ah," your moans staccato as you near your precipice and tears accumulate in the corner of your eyes.

It's a constant climb where you feel the excitement of nearing the top, and then suddenly, you slide back down. A sudden burst of pleasure consumes you as a gush wets Coryo's fingers and mirror. His fingers whip out and furiously rub your frustrated clit, causing a smaller gush to stream down.

Your mouth is ajar as you gasp, your hands bunching up the fabric of his pants. Your cunt visibly spasms as your orgasm prolongs itself.

"You did it, darling," Coriolanus sweetly says, kissing your cheek as he looks at you adoringly, "How did it feel?"

He touches you all over, spreading the drops of squirt that adorn your thighs. Your legs fall down limply as you relax back onto Coryo. He continues stroking your skin, looking at the beautiful, wet mess he made.

"I-I don't know, there was this just sensation of release like everything left my body," you say between pants as you try and catch your breath.

Coriolanus smirks and hugs you tightly, lost in his own world. It's like the post-orgasmic bliss affected him rather than you.

"Can we try again?" You ask minutes after, feeling the spark reignite by just thinking about the stream of fluid that came out of you.

"Whatever my darling wants," Coriolanus agrees, spanking your ass playfully when you get up from the chair.

You kneel on the floor to pull down his pants and find his leaking cock. Going straight for it, you suck him off like there is no tomorrow, swallowing around him and taking him deep till your nose rubs against his pubic bone.

Coriolanus doesn't allow himself to cum, even if his body screams at him to shoot his load into your warm mouth. Pulling you up from the floor, he pushes you towards the bed. You get on your knees and hands, shaking your ass for him cheekily.

Coriolanus has a feeling that today it will be a quick one. You're both too wound up to prolong this any further. His hand curves over your hip as he pushes his cock through your folds, wetting it. Without a warning, he snaps his hips, stretching your walls.

"Love your cock, Coryo," you moan as he fucks you harshly. "So big and thick and so deep," you mumble, acting cockdrunk.

You bury your head on the sheets, arching your back so your chest presses against the bed as you splutter nonsense. The tension of the day gets to you, and you allow yourself to go dumb on his cock.

"It's all yours, darling," he grunts, gripping your waist to push you back onto his cock. At this point, you're a cocksleeve to him as he chases his release. The sounds of his balls slapping against your clit are loud and obnoxious.

Keeping a steady rhythm, he fucks you until you're fluttering around him again. Coriolanus bends over your back, splaying his hand on your pelvis. He had promised he'd make you squirt again. It works as you drench his cock again, soaking the sheets and his thighs.

"Oh my god," you cry as your legs shake. You would've fallen flat on your face if it hadn't been for Coryo, who holds you up as he continues to push into you.

Tears soak the pillow you're hugging. It's too good. His cock is brushing repeatedly over your spongy spot. You don't want him to stop, ever, but you're so sensitive. It's a push and pull. You want more, but you're unsure if your body is up to it.

In a moment of lucidity, a wave of emotions grabs you and pulls you down. It snaps you out of your trance and hurts your chest. Shame, pleasure, desperation, joy, embarrassment, arousal.

Questions invade your brain. Since when have you been like this, letting yourself be treated this way? How are you not ashamed of yourself? This is not how a lady behaves. You're no better than a whore in a whorehouse. You should be ashamed of yourself.

"Rose!" You cry out with a sob as the shakiness localized in your legs spreads all over your body.

Immediately, Coriolanus stops all movement, startled by the use of the safe word. Your soft cries snap him out of his shock, and he, as gently and carefully as possible, pulls out of you.

Your whole body shakes as you cry, worrying Coriolanus to no end. He questions if he did anything that hurt you but comes up empty-handed.

"Darling, are you okay?" He asks, helping you sit up on the bed. He takes the clean blanket by the end of the bed, covering your body.

"Too-too much. I-I'm sorry," you hiccup, hugging the blanket tighter against you.

Coriolanus carefully respects your private space since he's unsure if you want or need his touch. He sits beside you, though, listening to anything you might need.

Humiliation fills your body. You were the one to ask for more and couldn't handle it, worrying Coryo about something that was not his fault.

"It's okay, nothing to be sorry about," he speaks with the softest voice he can muster, "Do you want me to bring you water?"

"Just hold me," you say as more tears trickle down your face.

So, he does. Coriolanus kisses your temple and runs his hand across your back until your sobs settle. He holds you close and whispers reassuring words in your ear.

You desperately want to tell him it's nothing he did. He wasn't being terribly rough or mean. You loved every moment of tonight until your emotions and unwanted thoughts got the best of you.

In your vulnerable state, the pent-up frustration of the day and the negative emotions you kept locked bubbled up and caused a sensory overload. Even now, you can barely speak, trying to regulate your emotions again.

"Don't go," you hiccup, reaching for his hand when Coryo stands from the bed. Terrified, he believes the same things your brain is feeding you.

"I'm not going anywhere, darling. Just looking for our clothes," he says, squeezing your left hand and kissing your knuckles.

Coriolanus grabs his pants from the floor and slips them on. Digging through the drawers, he finds one of his t-shirts and grabs a pair of your underwear. Your comfort is his priority, and he knows how comforting you find wearing his clothes. He helps you put the garments on, wrapping you back up on the blanket.

Leaning back on the pillows, he pulls you towards him, hugging you to his chest. You hug his middle, burying your head in his neck, falling asleep like that.

He stays awake, feeling the puffs of breath on his neck. Coriolanus hand keeps running up and down your back, under your shirt. It works to comfort himself as well.

You've only used the safe word twice, and both times, you had been doing worse things by far. He had understood twice and had been alert in any case. Today took him off guard, and it scared him.

Coryo debates on waking you the following day. He decides to do it to check how you're doing. You can decide if you want to go to university or not. He will walk you there personally if that is what you choose.

He wakes you by running his hand up and down your arm, softly shaking you out of your slumber, "Darling?"

"Mmm," you groan, your eyes fluttering open. He'd kept the curtains closed so they wouldn't bother you.

"How are you? Do you need anything?" Coriolanus asks, brushing your hair away from your face.

You stay silent momentarily, gauging your mental state, "I'm good. Am I running late?" You ask, sitting up on the bed.

"No, it's still early. Want me to walk you to school?" He asks, watching as you get up and head into the bathroom.

"Please?" You ask, turning to look at him before closing the bathroom door.

"Of course," he nods.

"Coryo, I think I know what happened last night," you speak loudly through the door, not a moment later.

"And what's that love?" He asks, standing by the door.

"I got my period," you say simply.

The blood staining your underwear is the reason you lost yourself last night. Your hormones must've been all over the place yesterday. It explains your sudden breakdown and why you were acting like a bitch in heat before that.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath. He's glad it's just that and nothing he did. He feels calm now as most of his worry is swept away. "I'll go make breakfast," he tells you before he heads out to the kitchen.

His worry is replaced by disappointment in himself. He lost track of your damn period because he was so busy at the lab. He has to share part of the blame. Ever since he started living with you, he noticed those subtle mood changes you got as your period neared and passed through.

First is the neediness, constantly touching him and asking to be touched. You got freakier when you were ovulating. Then there is the bad mood you get whenever he just as breathes the wrong way or places something where it doesn't belong. You try hiding it and holding back your scoffs, but he notices. Lastly, it's the tears. Your emotions are delicate when this time of the month comes around.

Last year, you got your period around the time of The Hunger Games and couldn't watch them. Tears instantly tracked down your face when you usually don't care. Coriolanus had to record them for you to watch later because you wanted to see everything that was implemented, thanks to him.

Because he recognizes how you get, he took it upon himself to make those days more bearable for you. Not to say he tiptoes around you, but he's gentler, more restrained. He tries not to be too mean. Had he known your period was right around the corner, he wouldn't have teased you today or made you wait for it.

He scolds himself as he pieces the puzzle together. That must've been why you took the sleeping pills the other day. You had an emotional day, and your overthinking mind didn't let you sleep.

Sensing he's kicking himself, you hug Coryo's waist from behind as he places the food on the table. "I love you, Coryo," you say sweetly, pressing a kiss on his spine.

Now, this is more in line with your normal, sweet behavior.

Coriolanus turns around in your embrace, hugging your shoulders and pulling you tight against him, kissing your hairline. "I love you so damn much," he speaks into your hair. "You had me worried last night," he admits, kissing your lips slowly before he lets you go.

"I don't know what happened. One moment, I was alright, and the next…well, you know," you shrug, sitting on the chair Coryo pulls out for you.

"Your emotions got the best of you. I know how that feels," Coriolanus nods, understanding better than anyone how it feels to lose yourself in the moment.

That day in the forest of District 12 will forever haunt him.

There we go! That was the part 2 I promised you! It took an unexpected turn but it felt right to me. Sorry it couldn't be kinkier :(

If you'd like to read more of this pairing you can also read The Mentor. It's a small prequel to this one shot set around three years back when they started dating. That being said The Mentor Pt. 2 is FILTHY.

If you liked it don't hesitate to let me know!

[lucy90712]

Can you do a imagine where gavi is pretending to be mad at y/n and y/n doing several cute tactics to make him happy and he is just secretly enjoying it🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🥺🥺🥺🥺

My last lecture today got cancelled so I was able to get home before Pablo gets home from training. Quite often he gets home before me and he usually leaves before me but we mostly get to spend the evening together even if I have assignments I will do them sat with Pablo. Our schedules can be intense but we have made things work so we always get to spend time together and when one of us is having a hard time the other does things to help out. We are a good team together which I think has helped us stay in a strong and happy relationship for the last two years. 

While I waited for Pablo to come home I had my laptop out and worked on an essay that I have for one of my classes. I didn't get to do that for long before the front door opened and Pablo walked in and threw his bag and shoes on the floor. Straight away I could tell he wasn't in a good mood something had annoyed him and he was trying to keep himself calm. He didn't notice that I was home at first but when he did I noticed the look in his eyes soften a bit as he never likes to take out his frustration on me which he's not perfect with but he tries and that's all I care about. Today I could tell he needed something to make him forget about today so I forgot about my essay and decided I'd make him his favourite snack to see if that would cheer him up a little bit. 

Pablo has always loved my homemade cookies so I made a batch as quickly as I could and put them in the oven as they only take 10 minutes to cook. While I waited Pablo went and showered and changed so by the time he was back downstairs the cookies were done so I put a few on a plate and gave them to him. He ate one of them and then halved the second to give some to me and I can't lie they were good but they didn't really seem to cheer Pablo up as much as I thought it would. Whatever happened while he was gone must've been worse than I thought as usually cookies does the trick but I'll have to get more creative today it seems. 

In the past when Pablo has had a bad day he likes to watch a sitcom so I thought I'd try putting Brooklyn nine nine on as we've watched that together before and he liked it. Today however it didn't seem to make any difference he just sat there staring at the screen not even smiling in the slightest. I would just ask him what's wrong but I've learnt the hard way that it's not always the best idea to do that as it can just make him more annoyed if he doesn't want to talk and it seems like he won't want to talk about whatever's bothering him today. As a sitcom wasn't working I thought maybe his favourite show might cheer him up but yet again it did nothing his eyebrows were still furrowed and he had a look of annoyance in his eyes. 

After that didn't work I tried every other trick I have up my sleeve from showing him tiktoks of cats I saved to cuddling with him as he loves to cuddle but none of my tricks seemed to work. That's when it hit me that he might be mad at me and that's why nothing I do works as he just doesn't want to be around me. I can't think of anything I would've done to make him mad but then again he can get mad over the most random things sometimes. Seeing as I couldn't make him feel better and may be making him feel worse I decided to just take myself upstairs and work on my essay to give him time to be on his own and hopefully be less mad. 

I tried working on my essay but I couldn't stop thinking about what I possibly could've done to make Pablo mad. We didn't fight before he left for training and we were texting before my lecture and during his break in training and he seemed fine then so I don't know what I've done wrong. Thinking about all of that just made me upset as I never like fighting with Pablo as he's not just my boyfriend he's my best friend too there is no one I'd rather spend my time with than him so when he doesn't want to be around me it hurts. Focusing on my essay went out the window quite quickly when tears started to fall from my eyes as I was so worried about whether Pablo will want to break up with me because I can't handle that right now. 

As my tears started to flow properly I had to stifle my sobs so Pablo didn't hear me as I don't need him knowing that I'm crying over seemingly nothing. That's when I heard footsteps coming up the stairs and I panicked thinking Pablo had heard me crying and was going to yell at me for being too emotional. As the footsteps got closer I desperately tried to wipe the tears from my face so if he comes in here I can try and pretend I haven't been crying. Just as I feared Pablo opened the bedroom door and of course he could tell I'd been crying as I know my eyes and face were still red and puffy. He didn't say anything just walked to the bed and sat next to me so he could pull me into his arms which I really didn't expect. I looked up at him to see if he still looked mad but he didn't his expression had softened and if anything he looked like he felt guilty. 

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to make you mad" I said 

"It's ok you didn't make me mad" he said 

"Then what made you so mad that nothing cheered you up?" I asked 

"Training was frustrating and the guys kept making fun of me so I was just in a bad mood then I came home and you made me cookies which did make me feel better but then I wanted to see what else you would do to make me feel better but I see now that doing that was a bad idea” he said 

"So you aren't mad at me?" I asked

"No not at all and I'm sorry that I did that I really didn't mean to make you cry in fact that's the last thing I wanted I can promise you I'll never even do that again I'll always communicate my feelings with you so this doesn't happen again" he apologised 

"You better not do this again" I laughed 

"I definitely won't and I'm going to make it up to you" he said

He started on making it up to me straight away by laying down and getting me to cuddle into his chest as he knows that's my favourite way to cuddle. That wasn't the only thing he did he also played with my hair as he knows that I like that and he gave me a lot of kisses which always make me happier. We spent most of the rest of the day cuddling the only time we stopped was when Pablo ordered food from my favourite restaurant for dinner even though I'd told him I'd forgiven him already he insisted that he still had more to do to make up for making me cry which he said he was going to do for the rest of the week which is fine by me if it means I get to spend quality time with him. 

[peppermintquartz]

Hi! If you're still taking prompts: Buck/Tommy, "You're the love of my life"

As the sun paints the clouds of Los Angeles a garish orange and pink, Tommy sits next to Evan on their bench on the front porch. Neither of them speak.

It's late enough in the season that it gets a little chilly once the sun goes down - chilly for LA anyway - and Tommy holds out the extra hoodie he brought out with him earlier. Evan takes it with bad grace, but he takes it and puts it on, so Tommy counts that as a step taken in the right direction.

There isn't much traffic in this cul-de-sac. A red Toyota drives past, its LED headlights glaring. Then they hear the eerie calls of coyotes floating in the air.

"I'd still do it," Tommy finally says. "Knowing everything, I'd still go in there to look for him."

Evan snorts. "Of course."

"You'd have done it too."

"Maybe." Evan folds his arms more tightly over his chest. "But I would have had Eddie watching my back when I do so. Not charge in solo like an action hero in a, a movie or something."

Tommy grits his teeth and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "There wasn't time. I'd have thought that you of all people would understand... You used to-"

"Don't you dare accuse me of being reckless now," Evan bites out. "I learned my lesson. You know I have. You could've died. For a pet turtle."

"Evan." Tommy takes a deep breath, blows it out. It's the same old argument since he got home three hours ago, and he is sick of it. "Chandra said the structure was still stable. I assessed the scene as well, I knew I would be safe enough, and Gus was not that far from me either. No one expected the tree to fall and the roof to cave in, but we got out of the way quickly enough. I got the turtle, I got out. Can we please stop fighting?"

He reaches for the hem of Evan's hoodie and tugs it lightly.

Evan sniffs. "I'd have hated writing your eulogy. A goddamn turtle."

"The turtle's name was Mr Speedy, if that helps with the eulogy." Tommy smiles and then yelps when Evan punches him on the shoulder. "Ow!"

Though he is still pouting, Evan's expression softens slightly. "Mr Speedy. That's so stupid."

Tommy grabs his husband's hand. "I won't ask my crew to take a risk that I can't take myself. And I will always, always try my damndest best to come home to you. You're the love of my life, after all."

"Liar," Evan says with a small smile. "The love of your life is asleep in his bed right now."

"I'm not lying, I love you both equally," says Tommy, kissing the back of Evan's hand. He nibbles on a knuckle and adds, "Make-up sex for tired parents?"

"I'm not that tired," Evan murmurs, leaning in for a kiss.

[somelegobird]

I got curious so I kinda

Total number of wishes made per season:

Pilot Episodes: 0

Rise of the snakes: 3

Legacy of the Green Ninja: 6

Rebooted: 0

Tournament of Elements: 6

Possession: 3

Skybound: 45

Day of the Departed: 0

The Hands of Time: 7

Sons of Garmadon: 1

Hunted: 0

March of the Oni: 1

Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitzu: 7

Prime Empire: 0

Master of the Mountain: 3

The Island: 0

Seabound: 1

Crystalized: 6

Dragons Rising s1: 7

Total wishes: 96

In this doc, the seasons are colour coded, I made a "Wishes per Character" list, the rules and guidelines I set for myself are laid out, and there's more interesting and specific graphs.

More specific lists below (Who said it, how it was said, and what episode it was said in).

Rise of the snakes

(Snakebit) Wu: I wish.

(Once Bitten, Twice Shy) Cole: I wish I had a sister like you.

(All of Nothing) Kai: Ugh. I wish I could see me now, because you all just got Kai'd.

Legacy of the Green Ninja

(Pirates vs Ninja) Garmadon:  I wish they were here to show these scaly idiots how it's done.

(Double Trouble) Garmadon: Ninja, today I wish for you to finally meet your match.

(Ninjaball Run) Ed: Oh, we're fine, son. Just wish I could say the same for the old jalopy.

(Ninjaball Run) Garmadon: I wish to rip open Ninjago and make an insurmountable obstacle that they can never surpass!

(Child's Play) Garmadon: I wish to create the power to make you young.

(Wrong Place, Wrong Time) Garmadon: I wish I could go back in time, and make it so the ninja were never formed in the first place!

Tournament of Elements

(Only One Can Remain) Karlof: Karlof wish he never sign up for this. 

(Versus) Neuro: I wish I could've done more.

(Spy for a Spy) Karlof: Karlof wish he had friend like that.

(The Day of the Dragon) Karlof: Karlof wish he could do that.

(The Greatest Fear of All) Skylor: I wish I still had the power to change.

(The Corridor of Elders) Kai: I wish I could say we're not facing an army unlike we've ever seen, but we have, and we know what they're capable of.

Possession

(Ghost Story) Jay: Uh, I wish Lloyd was here for that.

(The Crooked Path) Ronin: I wish it never had to come to this.

(Grave Danger Jay: Oh, I wish we had the Sword right about now.

Skybound

(Infamous) Nya: Aw, I wish we could, but duty calls.

(Infamous) Clouse: I wish for my Book of Spells.

(Infamous) Clouse: I wish...I wish to become mortal again.

(Infamous) Nadakhan: I wish it could be over soon, but right now, you're probably thinking about your last wish.

(Infamous) Clouse: I-I wish it all to go away!

(Public Enemy Number One) Misako: I wish to speak to someone in charge!

(Public Enemy Number One) Misako: I wish I hadn't said anything in the first place!

(Misfortune Rising) Clancee: I really wish he'd warn us when he did that.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: I wish I never saw my future.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: Then I wish...I wish I wasn't born in a junkyard.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: I wish I wasn't poor anymore and could give Nya everything she wants.

(Misfortune Rising) Nadakhan: I wish.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: I just wish I wasn't alone with you.

(Misfortune Rising) Lloyd: I wish Wu were here to guide us.

(Misfortune Rising) Kai: The only thing I wish is for you to take me back.

(Misfortune Rising) Kai: I wish you could take me back

(Misfortune Rising) Kai: I wish for all of it to go away!

(On a Wish and a Prayer) Zane: For my first wish, I wish that you'll not twist my words, nor find a loophole, but understand the true intentions of the words that I speak, and carry out your will as I've thoroughly instructed.

(On a Wish and a Prayer) Zane: I wish...I wish for it all to go away! 

(On a Wish and a Prayer) Flintlocke: We're acquiring so much land, I wish we had more hands.

(Wishmasters) Dareth: I wish I could tell you the mission is gonna be simple. It's not.

(Wishmasters) Cole: I wish Vengestone didn't stop our powers, but made them stronger.

(Wishmasters) Nya: I wish someone told me we were gonna use wishes!

(Wishmasters) Lloyd: I wish you were a lousy shot!

(Wishmasters) Cole: I wish he didn't have that sword.

(Wishmasters) Lloyd: I wish I was wise like Wu.

(Wishmasters) Cole: I wish us all out of here.

(Wishmasters) Nya: I really wish you hadn't said that, Cole.

(Wishmasters) Nya: Then I wish those clouds would stop us!

(Wishmasters) Lloyd: I wish for a sword!

(Wishmasters) Clancee: I-I wish them away!

(The Last Resort) Clancee: Oh, I wish...I wish...I wish I could see where she is right now.

(The Last Resort) Nya: I just wish I had a say in it.

(The Last Resort) Nya: And I wish we didn't have a lovestruck Djinn chasing us to the ends of Ninjago.

(Operation Land Ho!) Jay: I wish Nadakhan wasn't a Djinn! I wish Nadakhan wasn't a Djinn!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you wouldn't say that!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish to deal with you later.

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish I had those odds.

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish the swords away.

(The Way Back) Clancee: I wish you'd listen to me for once!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish...for my love to return.

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you gone!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you still! (directed at Zane)

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you still. (directed at Lloyd)

(The Way Back) Jay: I wish you had taken my hand.

The Hands of Time

(The Hands of Time) Acronix: Oh, how I wish my brother were here to see this.

(The Hands of Time) Nya: Sometimes I wish I was still Samurai X instead of a ninja.

(The Hatching) Jay: Kinda wish we hadn't busted him.

(A Time of Traitors) Kai: I wish I could ask you what this is.

(A Time of Traitors) Kai: Actually, I wish I could ask you anything.

(A Time of Traitors) Jay: Wish we had the rest of the team here to help.

(Secrets Discovered) Misako: I wish Wu could have seen this.

Sons of Garmadon

(The Jade Princess) Lloyd: I wish I knew. 

March of the Oni

(The Darkness Comes) Pixal: I wish the others could see this.

Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitzu

(Questing for Quests) Cole: I wish I understood what you just said, but I don't.

(Never Trust a Human) Aspheera: I wish to hear you say the words.

(Under Siege) Jay: Oh, I wish Lloyd and the others were here.

(Fire Maker) Kai: I just wish I still had my powers.

(Fire Maker) Kai: I just wish there was something I could do.

(Krag's Lament) Jay: I wish Kai was here.

(A Fragile Hope) Kataru: I wish I could give you some hope, but there is none in this place.

Master of the Mountain

(The Worst Rescue Ever) Vania: I wish I could go with you.

(Queen of the Munce) Murtessa: I wish you to be my king, for even though you have tiny arms and ugly human face, you have a stout heart and are a mighty warrior!

(The Son of Lilly) Vania: I wish you could stay.

Seabound

(Nyad) Nya: I wish we had more time, but we never seem to get a break.

Crystalized

(A Painful Promise) Aspheera: Wish I could help, but your ninja never came back.

(The Benefit of Grief) Dareth: I wish I were a Nindroid.

(The Benefit of Grief) Sally: I wish I could turn off my emotion meter.

(Christofern) Garmadon: I wish to understand it better.

(Christofern) Garmadon: I wish to see if there is any goodness in me.

(An Issue of Trust) Nya: I just wish we had better news.

Dragons Rising s1

(Beyond Madness) Lloyd: I only wish Master Wu was here to properly train them.

(Return to Imperium) Sora: I wish I was anywhere but here.

(The Last Djinn) Sora: I wish for you to help us kick these Howlers in their butts!

(The Last Djinn) Nya: I wish for the Howlers to be gone!

(The Call it Doom) Nya: I wish we could locate the missing Dragon Energy Core.

(Land of Lost Things) Sora: I wish I was.

(Land of Lost Things) Sora: I wish I didn't remember mine.

[nastyaromatherapy]

Empty Promises (18+)

You think bratty Ethan deserves a little punishment.

Written for (this) request!!

pairing - sub!Ethan Landry x mean!fem!reader

one shot length, 1.7k+ word fic

warnings: pegging, anal play, mommy kink, degradation, spanking, tbh could've been way filthier i rushed this

“You know the rules, Ethan,” you whispered to the boy, who you'd just found masturbating. His laptop was filled with porn links, he never thought you'd be home so soon. “No touching myself without permission,” he huffed, sulking on the bed. “That's right,” you congratulated.

“Do you do this every time I'm at work? Do you disobey me this much?” He was quick to shake his head, “No! I just couldn't help it today, it hurt s'bad. I’m sorry.” He whined, eyes glossy. “An apology does help your case a little.” He sighed with relief at that. He was a shit sub, getting punished more times than not.

“How about,” you start, starting to slowly pump his leaking cock with your fist, causing a whimper to slip out of his lips. “I touch you, and you can cum as much as you want, with permission of course. Catch is, you can't touch me. How's that sound?” Ethan writhed at your touch and sighed. “But I need you mama, it's gonna be so hard,” he complained. “Stop fucking bitching,” you snapped as you grabbed ahold of his hair. He groaned at the force.

“I'm sorry, mama,” he swallowed. “I'l- I'll take whatever you give me,” he pouted. “Fix your fucking face, Eth,” you ordered, making him sulk even more. “Why do you have to be s'mean,” he muttered, making you roll your eyes. “Because you don't fucking behave,” you said through gritted teeth, releasing your grip on his curls, making him fall back a bit. “But y'know what, fine, let's negotiate. What do you think you deserve,” you said reluctantly.

“To be fucked, by you,” he answered. You looked over to the chest drawer that contained all of your toys you had for Ethan. Paddles, ball gags, and of course, dildos and straps. You turned back to him, “You just say that cause you're a fucking whore. That's no punishment,” you tsked. "No, it is! You can use the big one that almost ripped me apart last time," he said as his voice grew quieter and quieter as his words went on, probably regretting what he was saying.

You tilted your head and nodded, open to the idea. “Okay,” you agreed. Ethan's pupils dilated as he watched you get up to rummage through the drawer. The dildo he was speaking of wasn't the longest he's ever taken, but the thickest. He bit his lip as you stripped off your blouse and dress pants, leaving you in your black vickies. “Can you prep yourself for me baby?” You asked, tossing him a bottle of lube.

His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he squirted the lube on his fingers. He groaned as he slipped a finger into himself, curling it and trying to distribute the lube. You tried to hide your smirk when you witnessed his poor attempt at fingering himself without you noticing. Nobody moans that much from lubing.

“So, you're already breaking the rules?” You asked after you finished harnessing the strap and attaching the girthy dildo. You turned to look at him cunningly, eyes narrow. “If I had known you'd disobey this early,” you started, sitting back on the bed with him. “I would've just got the paddle,” you shrugged nonchalantly. He whined, “No- mama, you can just use your hands! Please I swear I'll be good,” he cried as you got up to retrieve a pink, studded paddle from the chest.

“You're speaking in empty promises, Eth.” He muttered an, “I'm sorry,” and you sarcastically smiled before quickly faltering it. “All fours, bitch,” you commanded, standing above him as he slowly complied, his ass in front of you in full view.

You dragged the paddle in circles on his ass, making him let out a crackly sob. “Crying already? I haven't even done anything to you yet,” you chuckled. “Shut up,” he muttered before realizing his fatal mistake. “I’m sorry!” He said, scrambling to fix what he’d done. You fumed and quickly spanked him without hesitation, three times consecutively, a second long breather between each thrash. He whimpered as he kept muttering apologizes.

“The funny thing is, I didn’t even plan on fucking using this on you. I was just teasing,” you said, throwing the paddle behind your back as he continued to squirm from the everlasting stings.

You rested your forehead on your fist. “Can you ever just be good? Can I ever come home to a sweet boy, who’s eager, and willing, and doesn’t fucking brat out every five seconds?” You asked him rhetorically. “Because if you want to be a brat, I’ll treat you like a fucking brat,” you spat, making him wine.

“Please mama, just fuck me. I’ll shut up I swear!” He persuaded. You hummed and grabbed his balls. He whimpered at his vulnerability, extremely turned on. “I’ll fuck you like the slutty brat you are, Eth, and you’re gonna love every second of it, cause you’re mine.”

You released your hold on him and joined him on the bed. He got off of his fours to face you. He whimpered when you grabbed him by the hair again, your favorite move, and laid your lips on his. He smiled into the kiss, making you smile too. No matter how annoying he got, you always loved him. “I’m yours,” he admitted into the kiss, making you hum before pulling away.

“That’s a good boy,” you praised, the first time you got to say it in a while. You laid back on the pillows and toyed with the tip of your silicone, skin colored cock. “Can you suck me off, baby? Mommy would love that so much,” you said adoringly. He nodded and crawled in between your legs.

He was a bit hesitant to take you in his mouth, “I'm not sure I can, mama,” he whined. Your eyebrows furrowed, “Of course you can, cause you're a good boy for me, right?” He sighed, eyeing your cock before complying. He swallowed the head, letting out “mmhpfs,” around your artificial length. You moaned, both as a show for him, and because watching him do something so slutty turned you on so damn much.

“Mm, you feel so good sucking my cock pretty boy,” you moaned, making his hollowed cheeks flush a fuchsia from the compliment. You rubbed your thumb on the apple of his cheeks as you watched him take your thick cock in and out of his throat.

You reached down to slip the cock out of his mouth, making him whine with desperation. His oral fixation was pathetic. “Are you gonna behave?” You asked as you stood on your knees above him. He looked up at you and nodded. “Words, Ethan,” you softly demanded as you tilted his chin up. “Yes,” he whispered. “I'll behave.”

You smiled as he complied, hopping off of the bed. “Bend over the edge.” He submitted and did so, sprawling out, letting you view his ass that was slowly fading from the pink. You were calm as you got the bottle of lube to wipe on your cock, already covered with Ethan's slobber. You made sure to get it inside of him as well, since his feeble attempt at masturbation got the lubrication to be cut short. You curled your two fingers inside of him, making him writhe against the sheets with a whimper.

Even after you pulled out and only pressed the tip around his hole the room flooded with his noises, making you lose focus. “Eth I swear to god, I will use the fucking gag on you.” You barked, which made him quickly apologize and shut up. You lined the head up with his asshole before sliding in, leading Ethan to gasp harshly as he bit the sheets. His grunts were guttural as he was stretched so roughly, tears welling in his eyes. He knew that this was his punishment and that he was just going to have to take it, but it was gonna be a long couple minutes.

You finally snaked your way all the way into him, brushing at his prostate causing him to moan. He sobbed against the sheets as he was filled, the stretch immensely greater than anything else he's taken before. “’Hurts, mama,” he cried as you tore his ass apart. “Too big.” You tsked at him before slapping his ass with your bare hands, making him wail. “You asked for this, slut, and you're gonna fucking take it.”

His tears dripped onto the sheets which you reveled in, so desperately wanting to taste his emotional waters. “Fuck!” He screamed as he slowly started to accommodate to your girth.

His whines didn't stop as you slowly pistoned in and out of him, grabbing onto his hips for support. Soon, his whines turned into “uh, uh, uhs,” showing he relished in it. You let his newfound pleasure go unnoticed and continued to fuck him at the same pace, teasing the poor boy. You saw him trying to push back on your cock and you couldn't hold back a laugh, making his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Does the slut want more?” You cooed, causing him to whimper from the humiliation. “Yes,” he said just below a whisper.

“What was that?” You asked, having too much fun. “Please fuck me harder, mommy, I want more,” he cried, continuing to scoot his ass back onto you. “Was that hard?” You asked as you drilled into him deeper, picking up the pace. He moaned and expressed his gratitude as you repeatedly hit his prostate. “Thank you, mama.”

His cock twitched against the mattress, it ached from the prolonged abstinence of being touched. His eyes rolled back as he groaned and drooled all over the sheets, going dumb on your length. “Need to cum mommy, please let me cum!” He begged as his cock stained the mattress with his precum. You didn't respond and only kept fucking him at an animalistic pace.

“Please, please, mama let me cum, ’hurts s'bad,” he cried out, arching his back. “Where's it hurt?” You asked him, reaching down between him and the bed to stroke his cock. “Here?” You asked while milking him completely. He let out “mhms,” using everything he had in him to not cum.

You hummed as you watched him comply, a surprising feat for him. “Cum, Eth,” you whispered, making him scream and release his load all over your hands and bed. “Thank you, thank you,” he repeated as he breathed heavily from the orgasm, feeling empty as you pulled out of him. You continued to stroke him, prolonging his high as cum continued to spurt from his tip. “You're welcome sweet boy.”

[king-crawler]

HEY HI HELLO

Sorry for the random message here In the asks, it's ok if you don't see this or answer it since you probably got a lot already and I understand if you don't see this!/gen

But first of all, I just wanna say

I CANT BELIEVE I HAVENT WATCHED YOUR ANALYSIS VIDEO SOONER IM SO FUCKING LATE MAN

It's so well done and so fucking funny, I was literally smiling and cackling through the whole thing, it's shocking how similar our humor is

NOT TO MENTION THE END SCENE AREE YOU KIDDING HOW DID YOU MATCH THE LYRICS SO PERFECTLY TO THE FUCKING LORE ITS INCREDIBLE 😭💜/GEN, POS

It's insane how much dedication is put into it, let alone singlehandedly feeding turbo fans as myself

Genuinely thought it's so nice seeing more content for a hyperfixation I've had since 2012, and the fandom coming back along with this video Genuinely brings me so much joy as someone who's loved this movie since I was a kid

Sorry for the ramble but genuinely thank you for making that video, I can't wait to see what other stuff you do, wreck it ralph or not I WILL be tuning in/gen, pos

Okay second of all

The main reason why I'm sending this is because of sometning I noticed while rewatching a scene in the movie

Now, this might be me over analyzing as I usually do but it feels TOO. OBVIOUS.

SO

IN the kart bakery scene where vanellope and ralph go to bake a kart, they obviously make their way into the building and into the main room

You see all the Karts of course, and It pans to the one vanellope chooses

Which, at first glance you wouldn't really pay too much attention, especially when watching it for the first time, she's just picking the model she likes

..but looking back at the scene

Vanellope's kart model, how it was supposed to look, looks very

Familiar

Because the kart she chose..

...is a red and white kart

With stripes down the middle, with a very similar shape to a..certain persons kart. Now this might just be nothing, it's probably just like I said, and over analysis on my part

But the kart the chose looks WAY too similar to turbo's, not to mention the stripe is down the middle, just like turbo's car on the cabinet art of him

And vanellope could've chosen ANY kart

But it was that specific kart she chose, out of any of the karts

Not to mention in some of vanellope's concept art...

(Art made by Lorelay Bove)

..Vanellope's concept design and turbos designs strike SCARILY uncanny resemblances to each others designs

From the helmet and colors

All the way down to her GOGGLES having the SAME. YELLOW. TINT. that candy's have in the movie, which have the same effect here. There's no way that this didn't have the intent to mirror turbo purposefully

So with that in mind, the kart vanellope chose in the kart bakery scene being turbo foreshadowing, wouldn't be too out of place, nor would it be too far off

Turbo's foreshadowing was always prominent, even in the smallest details you wouldn't focus on, just like he's infecting this world as a virus, little by little, everywhere. You. Turn.

Aaaand that's basically all I have to really say

Sorry for the long ramble, I've been thinking of submitting this for awhile now, especially after I told a friend about this and they mentioned that this should be submitted to you

So I decided to go ahead and just do it, no matter how wild my comparisons might sound-

Anyways, I hope you have a good day, night, or what time it may be, and keep being awesome! I can't wait to hear back if you see this! Bye-bye! ❤️🏎🏆

P.s

I've been quoting these since I watched the video and haven't stopped

Thanks for destroying my humor even more-/pos

Okay bye bye now-

-skitters away-

NO YOU'RE SO FUCKING RIGHT OH MY GOD VANELLOPE WAS ALWAYS A TURBO PARALLEL??? CHAT IS THIS TRUE. IVE NEVER SEEN THAT CONCEPT ART OF HER TEEHEE THANKS FOR SHARING

also God. This is 99% just a coincidence with zero merit because its such a common gesture- but Ralph and Vanellope doing their thumbs up.. maybe Turbo parallels ?? and like the EXACT same poses too:

Vanellope having one hand on the steering wheel and the other doing a thumbs up while facing the camera.

Ralph hunched over doing the double thumbs up with the visor tinting his face yellow. EXCUSE ME HMMM?? WHAT THE FUCK??

NOW COULD I BE CHERRY PICKING? PERHAPS. but when Turbo has barely a minute of screentime, there's not a lot i can pick from, and things SURE ARE LINING UP... (I'm cherry picking)

SO SHHHHHH... ❤️❤️❤️❤️ LET ME HAVE MY LITTLE CONSPIRASCY

[l0ngschl0ngking]

Not the person I once knew

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary: past lovers reunite after many years…and then what?

warnings: SMUT (vaginal fingering, oral-m!receiving, protected p in v -i know, shocker-, biting, choking, overstimulation al liiil’ possesive!Joel -just a smudge-), ANGST, mentions of death and shootings, thoughts and mentions of suicide, cursing, Joel and reader being two idiots that cannot express how they feel and…fluff because I can’t help myself

word count: 10k ( yeah the zero is supposed to be there)

A/N: I am too jumping on the Joel Miller train. This fic actually has plot and it’s not just a straight up porn which is shocking :D. Also I am actually crazy - I have a week off from school and that’s why I write that much. I can’t stop - literally.

Your feet were aching – you've had to walk at least 20 or so kilometers by now – and the cold was biting your skin most unpleasantly – finding a good winter coat or any kind of winter clothes was not easy in this fucking Outbreak. You started to feel thirsty and tired and all you wanted to do was lie down and fall asleep – maybe death by cold wasn't the worst fate you could've endured.

Your mind quickly flashing to your group – you've killed most of them, the snarling of them still ringing in your ears, the smell of gunpowder lingering in your nose. You've done what you had to do – one of your guys got infected and infected almost all of the other ones – the ones that survived either left to fend for themselves which you thought was the stupidest thing ever or killed themselves – fucking cowards. Their blood stuck to you like a second skin – the smell of iron making you uneasy when you started to think about it. Maybe you should've killed yourself too. What was the point in surviving now, anyways? You didn't have a group anymore and you had no supplies anymore. Sure, you could eat the snow for water intake and try to hunt something – but you felt too exhausted for that. Your knees buckling – you fall into the cold snow – you hear something then. Voices, the sound of horses neighing and a…dog? Were you starting to hallucinate? You weren't though – the sounds getting louder and clearer – you quickly scramble to your feet and grab your pistol but you pale when you see how many of them are there – all of them looking more sure of themselves on their horses and with their guns raised on you. The dog barks at you, snapping and growling and you've never thought that you might die getting robbed and then mauled by a dog – though they did not look like raiders. Their clothes look clean and kind of new – compared to your worn and torn-off jacket at least.

Someone says something but you don't hear them – your gaze focused on the dog, your pistol pointing at the handler. You've always been a dog lover – before the Outbreak at least – but this didn't look like he wanted to be friends with you.

“Hey, I said drop your fucking gun or I'll shoot your head clean off!” One of them says – repeating himself – and you gulp dryly doing what he says – you were a fighter but also you weren't stupid. There were too many of them and even if you had good aim you wouldn't be able to shoot your way out of this. The guy who addressed you squints his eyes when you lower the gun to your feet – he gestures for you to kick it further and you reluctantly do so.

“Listen here, cowboy,” you sass when you see the cowboy hat on his head, “I was just passing by – my group is dead, they got infected and-” at your words everyone grips their guns a little tighter – the person holding the dog loosening the leash a little in his hands. “Whoa, whoa, I am not infected, I swear.” You sound desperate and you are – you probably should have blown your fucking head of yourself when you still had the chance.

“We will see about that.” One of them gruffs – you guess it's the one closest to you, the one on your right – and you have the urge to break his nose. Yeah, if you were in their position you wouldn't trust someone either but you are not – and you feel pretty fucking terrified – even after years of survival. “Release Buckley!” The first one – the one with that stupid cowboy hat – says and then you see the big ball of fur running towards you. Closing your eyes you pray that he can't smell any jerky on you – you know so he could nibble on your fingers a little and get a taste of you. The pain of teeth digging into you as you expected doesn't come and so you open one of your eyes – you see that the dog's tail is wagging and a grin slowly makes its way on your face. You slowly bend one of your knees - you are not getting any younger and pain shoots through your leg – but you ignore it and start petting Buckley. He's not that bad when he doesn't look like he wants to eat you alive.

A high-pitched whistle cuts through the air and then he is gone – heeling opposite to the person who previously handled him. They don't say anything more and start to slowly turn their horses on their heels when an idea comes to your mind – they look well-fed and clean, and you feel hungry enough that you would eat practically anything. The exhaustion creeps back up at you after the adrenaline wears off and you shout a quick “hey” - their heads turning in question. You offer them a little smile, kicking your feet into the snow and putting your gun back.

“You guys have a place for one more hungry stomach? I just want something to eat – maybe a few hours of sleep and then I'll be out of your hair. Pinky promise.” you grin and show off your pinky finger – you've always had a way of trying to make the situation lighter than it really was and now that you know they don't pose any tŕeal threat – for now at least – you get your hopes up. All of them share a quick look before the one with that stupid cowboy hat – who wears something like that in the middle of the winter – nods and your grin spreads wider. You grab one of the hands that reach towards you to pull you on a horse – and when you are finally on its back, you stroke its muscular thigh lightly. Maybe this day was not so bad after all.

When you arrive at Jackson it is almost noon. You raise both brows when you see the wooden heavy gait in front of you– the people patrolling their stations curiously looking back at you. When you asked them if you could come with them you didn't expect a whole fucking community of people in a small town with electricity and other necessities – your eyes wandering to the various small buildings that look like shops more so than something where you could take shelter. When you asked them if you could come with them you expected a flimsy building without windows in which you would hardly make a fire. You aren't surprised anymore why they acted so tough – families lived here, old couples and people of various ages. A small flicker of hope goes straight to your heart – maybe you could stay here – you were tired of fighting to live another day. And this looked like a great fucking place.

The guy that was riding with you dismounts the horse – helping you do the same and you pet the animal – thanking it quietly. People don't really look at you – at least not so openly as the ones that were taking patrol – they are doing their own things – some of them just crossing the street, others helping to build a new building – you wonder what that is going to be for – a group of kids runs right in front of you squeaking. They play and your heart aches – it's the first time you've seen kids be so carefree since the outbreak happened – it looked like their childhood was not ripped from them. One of the kids – a young girl no older than 6 – looks almost like Sarah – curly wild hair, big eyes and the cutest dimples you've seen adorn her face – and you feel a pang of hurt in your heart. Reaching for your necklace you squeeze the ring that is on it tightly in your palm – Joel and Sarah would love it here.

The man you've called cowboy asks you something and you turn to look at him – he's quite handsome but he is a lot younger than you for sure – he has this boyish innocence still written all over his face when you pin him with your stare. “Sorry, what did you say?”

“I will accompany you to the canteen. Tommy is already waiting there, a few men that were with us already informed him about your arrival.” He sounds formal. Too formal – as if his words were learned. Like a little boy scout you think. Images of Tommy Miller through your mind and you grin fondly at the memory of him – you could never imagine him being a leader of a community like this.

“Lead the way, cowboy.” You don't miss the way that the boy's ears gain a darker shade of red and so do his cheeks.

When he leads you to the canteen – you can't believe that they have a real freakin canteen here – you look around because you can't take it all in at once. Jackson looks like an old town from some kind of cowboy movie – maybe that's why the boy wears the stupid hat. A few people on the way politely greet you and you greet them back. When you arrive at the canteen the bo points to the man that has his back turned back on you and before you can thank him – has gone. The lights adorning the room are a nice touch – it looks old school here – old wooden chairs, and tables with plaid cloth scattered across the room, and you can see an old Coca-Cola freezer from the corner of your eye. Your steps are much lighter – even though you are still hungry and tired you're at least not cold anymore, the temperature here is not as cold as outside. The man that cowboy pointed at talks to someone – an older lady with a high-pitched voice with pretty blue eyes – and you wait before they end their conversation, standing to the side. The lady whispers something to him – you can see her lips moving but don't hear anything – and then the man turns and looks at you. If you have something in your hands right now you would for sure drop it.

Tommy fucking Miller was standing a few steps away from you. He looked older – of course – and his hair was a lot longer than you'd last seen him, the mustache he was sporting suited him. You saw the way he scrunched his brows together – as if trying to categorize you to one of his people – and then you saw the realization cross his eyes. His hands drop to his sides and when you whisper a hushed “Tommy ?” he was right in front of you – hugging you close to his body. The hug was desperate and you felt the tears you held back falling from your eyes – the palms of his hands soothingly caressing your back. After a few minutes or was it seconds he pulls away from you and you have so many questions but none of it comes out of your mouth – the lump in your throat not allowing you to. If he was here – alive and breathing – did it mean Sarah and Joel were here too? Or…No, you couldn't think that way. You had buried the memories of Millers a long time ago – but now, seeing Tommy here? He gave you hope.

“Wow-uh, I’d thought I’d never see you again, Doc.” The small nickname of endearment falling from his lips makes you sob and he softly grabs your elbow so you two could sit at the nearest table – a young woman quickly rushes to your side when Tommy gestures with his hand for her to come and he whispers something in her ear – just now you can see the few people scattered around staring at you curiously.

“Tommy-I-is-is Joel here too? And Sarah.” You grab the ring on your necklace tighter – you've been dreaming of this moment for too long – and he looks at your hand noticing the shiny thing attached to the chain on your neck. The engagement ring Joel proposed with.

“I-uh- I'll tell you everything but you need to eat first, Doc, alright?” You don't feel hungry anymore but you nod – noticing the look in Tommy's eyes makes you uneasy – but he offers you a smile and you offer one right back reaching for his hand – squeezing his hand in yours.

You sit and listen to Tommy talk – you aren't sure if minutes pass or hours – but your eyes nurn from all the crying and you feel your stomach drop with your heart multiple times during Tommy's story telling how he – they – come up here. How Joel was desperate to contact you – you were in Houston on a quick trip with your friends at the time, to look for the wedding dress – seems stupid when you think about it right now. How they killed Sarah – your sweet little Sarah, you thought of her as your own, you've lived with her for almost three years and that girl adored you and you adored her right back – you cannot imagine the pain Joel felt when she was killed right in his arms. Tommy tells you about Joel's suicide attempt too – how he didn't see any purpose in life when both his daughter and fiance were not around anymore, he didn't know if you were still alive. He tells you about his wife, how he got here – how he joined Fireflies for a while and you have the urge to punch him when he says that – you have a distaste for that motherfuckers. He tells you about Ellie – not much though – but enough to figure out Joel cares about that girl a whole lot. And most importantly he announces to you that both of them are here and you almost jump out of your chair to go and find him – but Tommy quickly grabs your elbow and stops you. He tells you about how Joel changed a lot – but so have you. When you tell him that he just shakes his head – you don't understand.

“Doc, I don't know how he will react seeing you after 20 years. He is not the person you once knew. I think you should sleep on it first.”

You want to protest but the sound of the door opening and the rushed call of “Tommy!” stops you. You look at who interrupted you and it's a girl close to Sarah's age. She has short brown hair tightened up in a ponytail and a pair of brown eyes. She has a scar across her brow and when she stops next to Tommy and mutters a quick fuck – you know it's Ellie. Joel's Ellie.

“I heard there's someone new in town and I was super curious – Joel told me to wait for him but then he started playing on his stupid guitar and-” he still plays on a guitar. That pulls a little smile on your face. The girl seems like she didn't even notice you and Tommy wants to open his mouth when Ellie seems finally acknowledges your presence.”Fuck, it's you. You're the new person.” Tommy scolds Ellie when she curses but you just grin at her attitude and seemingly “I want to know and also do know everything ” mindset.

“It's okay, Tommy. God knows I curse a lot too. Hi, Ellie.” She seems confused about how you know her name and you've missed talking to kids – God you have missed your job so much, after all, that's how you and Joel met. Sarah broke her leg and when the nurse told him you could finally see them he was more nervous than a mouse being chased by a cat. He was so worried about Sarah that he didn't even notice you ogled him after you were all done with Sarah – but of course, she did. She was a sweet kind and when they left she muttered to her father he should definitely ask you on a date – he just shook his head and told her not to be silly – you were too pretty for him. Turned out you lived close by and from their visit you've started seeing both Sarah and Joel a lot more outside your work. It was you who finally got the courage to ask the hot single dad out – you will never forget how he gaped at you seemingly not trusting his own voice to answer so Sarah quickly jabbed him in the ribs and said that: “he would very much like that” - he was talking her ear off about you even unknowingly so.

“Okay, how the fuck do you know my name and who are you because it seems you and Tommy are big buddies here. Just so you know he has a wife.” She says matter of factly and you think you like this kid a lot – you can see why Joel does too.

Tommy clears his throat. “Ellie, this is Doc.” He says and he doesn't even notices the fact he called you your nickname – you see the way Ellie's brows scrunch up in confusion. “She's a long lost…family.”

“What, are you like their sister? If so you for sure received all the pretty genes – though Joel never said anything about ever having a sister.” She's a lot more talkative than you thought she would be and you think it might be because she finally has a place that she can call home and not worry about stranger danger – at least not that much.

You chuckle. “No I am…” you look at Tommy to see if you can say who you are – though you don't know if Joel still thinks of you as his fiánce – after all, it's been 20 years. He just nods. “ I am Joel's fiánce” You can hear her gasp and say “holy shit!?” - most of the people in the canteen turn their heads to throw her a nasty look. Well, that much at being discreet

“You are Joel's dead fiánce? You don't seem that dead to me.” She mutters that last sentence as she starts inspecting your face and scrunches her nose at you. “You smell.” She states matter of factly and Tommy scolds her once again but you just shrug your shoulders at him.

“It's true, Tommy. No harm in being honest.” If Ellie knows about you it meant she must know about Sarah too and it also must mean Joel talked about you to her. That fact makes your heart build a little faster. Maybe…maybe he still cares about you – logically you know he does, he was a very loyal man back in the days too – but still, it makes your cheeks heat up.

“Joel will lose his mind! You have to see him like right now!” she sounds enthusiastic and you are too – seeing Joel after 20 years? You've been dreaming of this moment for so long…Tommy interrupts your little fantasy – clapping his hands he throws a look at Ellie and smiles at you.

“I think it's for the best if you showered first, Doc As Ellie said you don't smell so fresh and maybe a reunion with your husband would be a lot happier if you don't make his whole house stink, eh?” You regularly nod and when Tommy says you can shower at his Ellie says she will come with you – she asks you a lot of questions about yourself – where you grew up, what did you do before Outbreak, where did the nickname Doc come from – she says you are super cool when you answer her you were pediatrician before everything went to shit. She asks how you and Joel met and you answer her truthfully – you've never liked lying. Tommy just walks next to you and listens – you look at him from the corner of your eyes and see he is thinking – he always has this look on his face – his brows are scrunched and his lips are set in a thin line. Joel has that look too when he thinks about something or concentrates – it was your favorite quirk of his.

The walk is quick and you meet Mariah – she's sweet – she offers you clean clothes and when she closes the door behind you so you can take a shower – you exhale loudly. Knowing that Joel is here and that you will see him made your stomach twist in anticipation. Ellie hangs back downstairs with Mariah and Tommy and you can hear their hushed voices – you are pretty sure that they are talking about you. You want to quickly hop in the shower but when you do it's like heaven on earth – the first spray of hot water hits your sore muscles and you feel yourself start to relax. You haven't had a hot shower since the beginning of the outbreak and you missed it so badly. You try to scrub all of the grime and blood from your skin and hair but it seems like mission impossible and you stay in the shower for far longer than the 10 minutes you said. When you step out of the shower you look at yourself in the mirror – at your face and the bags under your eyes, at your body scattered with scars and the thought of Joel not liking what he will see quickly flashes through your mind but you push it away just as quickly as it came – this was a different world. You wrap the fluffy towel around yourself and sigh in bliss. The clothes Mariah gave you fit you and maybe it's that much of your style – but they are clean and smell like they were just pulled fresh out of the washing machine. When you come down quickly the banter stops between the three of them and you can hear Ellie say that “great, you finally don't look like shit”. She grabs you by the arm and leaves the house – dragging you through the streets of Jackson. She walks quickly for someone so small and you try to keep up with her – the new winter coat you wear is flowing behind you with the speed you are walking.

When you arrive at the house Joel and Ellie live you try to catch your breath muttering that you are not as young as you used to be – Ellie just rolls her eyes and steps on the porch which creaks under her footsteps. You like the house – at least from the outside – you imagined something like that when you planned to move with Sarah and Joel after you two marry.

“So, we are here. Take off your boots when you come in – Joel hates cleaning up the snow I leave behind when I come in and walk in boots through the house.” You nod but then she is pushing you in and you throw her a scared look.

“You are not coming with me?” You hiss and she just shakes her head as if it was the stupidest thing she has ever heard.

“No. Enjoy your time together. I don't want to hear you two fucking.” And then she shuts the doors behind you with a force you didn't even know a little kid could possess. Right after she do you hear a gruffed “Ellie I told you to wait for me we talked about -” he stops mid-sentence and you feel like all of the air in your lungs leaves your body when comes into the view, He looks older – but somehow more handsome then you've last seen him. The grey in his hair suits him, and the patches in his beard are now more prominent than they were before. He looks good – more than good. You don't know what to do or say. The two of you just keep staring at each other – he looks you up and down and you see his breath becoming quicker. You're the first one to break the silence.

“Hi, Joel. Long time no see.” You laugh quietly and the tears in your eyes leave your vision blurred. You're the one who moves first too and you hug him tightly – he changed over the years, he's softer and he doesn't smell like he did back in the days – but there's something about his presence that feels entirely like Joel and you grab onto his plaid shirt – squeezing it in your fists. You don't want to pull away – you never want to leave him again but when you feel him not responding to the hug you slowly pull away and look into his eyes. He's scanning your face and now you see tears in his eyes as well. The weight of his calloused hands is more than welcome and you close your eyes when you feel his thumbs slowly stroke your cheeks. The small escapes your throat and you nod when he quietly – oh, so quietly murmurs - “you are alive.”. You stay like that for a while – both of you don't dare to move in case this was all just a dream. You want to hug him again – to feel him against you but when you try to pull him closer to you he unexpectedly quickly pulls you away. You look at him confused and he wipes his tears away – he doesn't know how to act around you. It's been too long. He buried the memories of you and never wanted them to resurface. The knowledge that you are alive and here right in front of him hits him like a fright train. It scares the fucking shit out of him.

He clears his throat and avoids your gaze when he asks you if you want to sit – you agree hastily - you didn't take off your boots like Ellie said and you contemplate for a flash of a second that maybe you should - when you see the change in his stance and attitude. He's trying to distance himself from you and you don't understand why – wasn't he glad you were here?

You look around the living room. It's spacey and you hate that small painting of deer above the fireplace. You quickly scan the bookshelf and figure most of the books are Ellies. When you sit on the worn-off couch you expect that Joel will sit next to you – but he moves across the room and keeps standing. You are confused and you don't understand – you never expected your reunion to go this way. It stays quiet and you break the silence once again – he never was much of a talker anyway- you and Sarah kept the house full of laughter and it was never quiet thanks to both of you – and he never thought he would miss it that much.

“I met Ellie. She actually dragged me here.” You chuckle but he doesn't respond – this was such a bad idea. He tears your heart apart with his stoic stance and silence and doesn't even know it. But he can't bring himself to speak or move – he worries if he does you will disappear.

“Okay, I guess I will go.” He wants to tell you to stay here with him. But alas nothing comes out of his mouth – though when he sees the ring on your neck he gasps and you throw him a questioning look.

“You-you kept it after all these years.” You are confused but when you see where his gaze is trained you look at your engagement ring and smile. “Yeah, I-uh, I've never stopped thinking about you or Sarah you know.” He sharply inhales, he wants to tell you so much. “And every time I look at it I hear her annoyed voice scolding you on how you proposed.” You snort and he grins softly remembering your light laughter and Sarah's huffing on how un-romantic he was.

“Babe just another five minutes, please.” You grumble and feel him smile against your skin – his patchy beard scratching your neck. His hands squeeze your hips and your breath hitches when you feel his tongue flatten against your pulse point. He hums against your skin and nips at your skin – you try to push him away but he just grins wider and hovers above you.

“You know you said that six times now come on, want to take you somewhere nice. Promise I will make it worth it.” He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle at his antics – he was the one who slept in most of the time – but on days like this – where you feel exhausted from the previous night's session of amazing sex – you feel like you could sleep till afternoon. You slowly kiss the bald spot on his beard and one of your hands sneaks to the band of boxers – he grabs your hand quickly and shakes his head at you.

“Na-ah, won't work on me this time, sweetheart. You can't seduce me.” You just hum and kiss the spot between his shoulder blade and neck – gently scraping your hand through his already tousled hair. His eyes flutter close for a moment and it's now your turn to grin against his skin. You know you won.

“Mmm, I don't know but you left your girlfriend pretty unsatisfied last night.” You try to push the smile off your face when he quickly opens his eyes at your words – you know he never backs down from a challenge.

“Oh?” You hum and finally cup his semi-hard cock in your hand. He grunts and you smile, biting your lip when he slowly puts his fingers inside your panties. “So wet for me already baby, was three orgasms last night not enough for you, mhm?” He asks when he pushes two fingers inside of you and you gasp – arching your back and he squeezes one of your breasts – his now hard cock strains against his boxers.

“How do you know I-oh fuck. Didn't fake it?” you grit out when his fingers brush against the spongy spot inside of you – his thumb drawing circles on your clit leisurely. His eyes darken at your question and he hooks the two of his fingers inside of you – it feels too good and all you can do is just moan in pure bliss.

“Oh, believe me, sweetheart, I know. This sweet pussy grips me like a vice when you cum. Guess I need to remind you.” The other hand that was squeezing your tit now goes higher and he strokes your jaw – you grant his access to your mouth and he growls when you bite on his lower lip and your go to the back of your head when he speeds his hand – his tongue sliding into your mouth and when he pulls away you kiss the underside of his jaw.

“Guess you do.” he mumbles something alongside “such a smart mouth” before his hands grab you around your throat and put small pressure on it – you shudder and he just hums when he feels you close. “Gonna cum for me, won't you?” You just nod and when you finally do cum – you bite his shoulder, your nails scraping across his back. He pulls his fingers out of you and sticks them in your mouth – you hum around them and push him so he is the one laying on his back.

“I have to return the favor.” You throw him a cheeky look and he just mutters an “oh god” when you pull him out of his boxers – the tip already red and sensitive, leaking precum out of it. "Guess I will have my breakfast early."

An hour later Sarah is already up and grins at you. You bid her a good morning – you try to look presentable – you've already brushed your teeth, changed and you smile at her when you see that she made pancakes.

“Sooo, do you like the ring?” she asks and you stop pouring coffee into Joel's mug. He throws Sarah a quick look of “don't say another word, please” but she ignores him. “You know, the one dad proposed with?” your go slack-jawed and look at Joel who quickly scrambles to his feet from the chair and pulls you to him.

“What is she talking about, Joel? You ask and he uncertainly smiles and bends one knee – you see the little black velvet box and when he opens it you gasp – the ring inside of it is beautiful – simple and elegant and tears well up in your eyes.

“Oh my god, dad. You said you would propose before the sunset.” Joel shrugs his shoulders and keeps his gaze trained on you.

“That was the plan but were… preoccupied.” He grins at the last word and Sarah mutters a quick “gross” but starts looking for that old stupid camera to make wvideo of the proposal– hoping you would say yes. She thought of you almost like a mother and when Joel told her he wanted to marry you she squealed in delight.

“So whad’ya say, sweetheart? Will you marry me? Even though I am proposing in our kitchen and with my pajamas on.” You nod and he lets out a breath of relief – when he stands up you kiss him passionately.

“You won't get rid of me now that easily, Texas.” You whisper against his lips as he wipes your tears away.

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You couldn't wait for the new chapter of your life with Joel and Sarah by your side

Joel stays quiet for a long time after your confession and he almost misses you leaving – but he registers the door shutting softly. He falls onto the floor – putting his hand on his heart which seems like it will fall out of his chest any moment- his breath is quick and he can't seem to calm himself down. His ears are ringing and he registers the flow of tears after they fall on his cheeks and into his mouth – the salty flavor of them sits heavy in his mouth – and he wishes he could be man enough and run after you. But he doesn't – he stays sitting up on his living room floor the face of you haunting his mind alongside with the old memories

Tommy was right. Your fiánce was not the person you once knew. Joel seems to be avoiding you because you've been in Jackson for a week now and didn't see him at all. Not that you minded after seeing his enthusiasm – or rather lack of – at seeing you. You try to not think about it that much and throughout the day you occupy yourself – at night you cry a lot – Mariah always comes to your room and shushes you to sleep or if you are talkative that night she lets you talk. It's like having a girls' night but more…depressing. The people in Jackson are nice and you try to help everywhere you can. Whether it be with kids or at the canteen. Helping with sheep or horses – you often go and visit Buckley – he soothes your ongoing nerves. Joel will have to come out of hiding one day. And you are not ready for that. On the other side Ellie seems to hang with you a lot – the day after your meeting with Joel she almost tackled you to the ground when she forcefully asked what did you do to Joel – you have to give it to her, that girl got spirit and an undying loyal heart like the man she is living with. After trying to explain it to her –it was very hard because she thinks Joel can do no wrong really – and you are not saying he did, she gave in pretty easily and started hanging out with you.

You are staying at Tommy for a while – at least before you decide if you will leave which is very unlikely or they will try to find you another accommodation. She comes there every afternoon and brings her science books – you found an anatomical book in the library one day and kept it with you – and you try and teach her the various Latin words or show her where is what on her body – three days ago you two drew a life-sized human and marked bones on it and such. You've met other people too and learned that the shy cowboy's name was Henry – he asked you out and you admired him for his braveness but you told him you are probably closer to his mother's age than to be his girlfriend.

Tommy went and tried talking to Joel too but you both know how stubborn he can be and when you asked him how did it go he just shook his head low and offered you a sad smile. Today you wanted to help an old lady, Mrs.Grempinks - or something like that – with knitting. Her hands were shaking the past few days and she felt sad – you offered her help and she accepted – she doesn't need to know you do not know how to knit at all. At least it will maybe make her feel better that she is not the only one in the room with poor knitting skills. On the way to her, you come across Ellie and she lets out a relieved sigh when she spots you.

“Here you are I've been looking everywhere for you.” she empathizes the word everywhere and starts dragging you with her – where you aren't sure.

“Hey, Ellie. Slow down. Ellie!” you shriek when you figure out where exactly she is dragging you – to her – Joel's- house and you burrow your heels into the snow-covered ground.

“Joel isn't home and I want to show you something really cool – I've been working on it for the past couple of days after you borrowed me your anatomy book.” You want to protest and you turn around in the direction of Mrs. Grempkin's house but you don't have the heart to tell Ellie that you don't have time and Joel is not home and you would leave soon enough anyways – she will just show you her little project and then it's gonna be as if you never even put your foot in the house again. When she pulls you inside she again quickly closes the door behind you and dread overcomes you – oh no she didn't – she shows you the two keys in her hand and you know the other one is Joels. She locked you out.

“I am sorry but both of you are miserable and you have to talk it out!” There is nothing to talk about with Joel – he doesn't need your presence near him, it's been clear and you mouth a quiet “please, Ellie, don't do this” while you jumble with the handle. It's no use and you sigh thumping your forehead against the door. You quietly take your boots off this time and start looking around the house – looking for Joel to tell him what just happened.

You find him in his workshop – it's nice and you stay in the doorway while looking around. You see the various little wooden figures and you find it cute that he found something he can get lost in. The various guitars on the wall peak your interest – you've always loved when he played and his back is still turned on you while he focuses on his woodwork – you enter the room slowly and when you touch one of his guitars a low “hi” echoes throughout the room. His back is turned still but his hands stopped moving and he is sitting still.

“Didn't know you could hear me.” You say and he chuckles lowly.

“I'd be dead by now if I didn't hear someone sneaking up on me.” He says and you hum acknowledgment – when he finally turns to look at you your breath hitched because he is so effortlessly handsome it hurts. You cross your arms around your chest.

“I wasn't sneaking up on you.”

“Sure you weren't.” He throws you a grin and it's different than the last time you talked – or didn't really – to him. He is more relaxed and he actually looks like he doesn't mind seeing you in his house. It's quiet for a while but not that uncomfortable silence that suffocates. You look at one another and you take him all in – his aquiline nose and his full lower lip, his brown eyes and you look at the dip of his neck – licking your lips. It's suddenly too hot in here with the way his gaze burns into you.

“I am sorry.” He offers and you don't understand what for – or you do – you just want him to expand that sentence because you felt like a fool the last time you were here. “I am sorry for the way I reacted but I never thought I'd see you again and when you just appeared in my house I was overwhelmed with emotions I didn't know I could still feel. After Sarah died I-” He chokes and you are in front of him in a blink of a second – cupping his cheeks and he closes his eyes bathing in your gentle touch which he doesn't deserve - or at least he thinks so

“You don't have to tell me anything. Tommy told me and I-I am sorry what happened to Sarah. And everything you've been through, Joel.” You say and he opens his eyes and shakes his head – none of what happened was your fault and you shouldn't be sorry. He was glad you weren't with him when all of it went to shit because you'd probably be here by now. It's easy to be this intimate with him and you bask in the way he lets you touch – you expect him to pull away like last time – but he doesn't. Instead, he brings his lips closer to yours and searches for your gaze which drops when he licks his lower lip.

“I want to kiss you, sweetheart,” he murmurs and your lips are almost – almost touching when he says so. His forehead is pressed up against yours and your hands that were previously holding his face now move behind his neck – your nails scratch the spot behind his ear gently and he closes his eyes – whether in pure bliss or to hold himself back you don't know – though if its the latter you don't want that. “Need to kiss you,” he adds. You just nod your head in agreement – you wanted nothing more than to kiss him the last time you saw him.

“What are you waiting on then, Texas?” You tease and you feel him smile into the kiss – it's just a gentle press of lips – as if he was testing the waters. One of his hands grabs your hip – squeezing it – and the other moves behind your head and pushes you closer – he needs you closer. The wet press of his lips is more urgent now and his tongue licks your lower lip. You grant him access into your mouth and then the kiss becomes more urgent, more passionate, more desperate – Joel was always a good kisser and you always enjoyed just making out with him late at night to some bad movie that was on the TV. The hand on your hip moves lower and he cups your ass – you moan into his mouth and he hums, the other hand now stroking the hinge of your jaw. Your hands scratch his scalp and he almost but purrs – pulling away from you he plants butterfly kisses across your face.

“Bedroom?” The question seems silly – you need him and if you'd be any younger you'd jump his bones right here on the floor. But you are not so you nod and he pecks your lips quickly before he grabs your hand – squeezing your fingers in his – and leads you to his bedroom. When you enter it he closes the door more forcefully than needed and before you have time to look around he is pushing you onto the bed – your back hits the mattress and he grins – he hasn't seen this sight in over 20 years and he is enjoying every second of it. You sit up and pull him by the collar of his shirt. He is quick with it – his mouth on yours again and his hands start exploring your body – they go from your thighs up to your tummy and then higher – he squeezes your tits – you moan and his hands move higher cupping your cheeks tenderly. He pulls away and moves your hair out of your face.

“Need you so badly.” He pants – and you feel just the same. You feel him start undressing you but you want to make this last as long as possible. You push him away and he seems confused before you are pushing him on his back – your sit on his lap and you feel how hard he is under his jeans – you test the waters and grind down on him – your hands on his chest and he really wants to keep his eyes open but the feel of you on him makes him feel like he's fuckin teenager again that will bust his load into his pants any second. “Fuck, gonna make me cum before the real fun even begins and I am not young as I used to be. If that happens I will have to eat you out at least three times.” You grin and bend down to kiss his neck – your tongue leaving hot trails in its wake. He sits up with you and his hands fly to your lower back to support you. He surges forward – his tongue exploring your mouth, mapping your teeth with it and when you feel his hands trying to take your shirt off – you tug him by the hair roughly – his hips bucking up to meet yours as he moans your name brokenly.

“Slow down, baby. Want to appreciate you.” You push his chest so he will be laying again – he wants to protest but you put one of your fingers to his lips. The look he gives you is downright sinful before he is sucking it into his mouth – his teeth nipping it and you can't look away from his advances. His tongue peaks out and you feel the way he swirls it around your digit just like used to when he ate you out. You moan brokenly and put another one there and he bites into them softly. The small butterfly kisses you leave on his scar from his suicide attempt makes him drop your fingers from his mouth as he groans loudly – he feels so fucking appreciated and loved at this moment that it makes his head dizzy. “Need to see you, baby. Sit up.” He does and you unbutton his shirt slowly one by one while he kisses your jaw and your neck – sucking at it once in a while his tongue flattens out against your pulse point where he leaves a mark.

“Fuck, want you to take your shirt off too.” You don't have time to comply before he is pulling it over your head and you are not wearing any bra – the one Mariah gave you did not fit you – and he immediately reaches for them. He pinches one of your nipples while he sucks on your other one and you throw your head back – it always felt this good with him. Sex with him was easy and he was a generous lover. The only man that had ever made you cum. When pulls away he frowns when he sees the deep red scar close to your heart.

“Someone stabbed me but as you can see I am alive and well. Don't worry about it, We all have our own scars.” Your thumb slides across the one next to his temple and he nods – he is angry at himself though. Maybe if he was with you it wouldn't happen. Maybe if he'd try to look for you harder. Maybe…”Hey, Joel. You still with me?” You stroke his bicep and he nods before you peck him gently. “Strip out of these, will you? Want to suck your dick.” You pat his jeans-clad thigh and his jaw rocks forward. You sit on the bed and he makes quick work of his jeans and his boxer – his cock is bobbing with need and you open your mouth awaiting.

The first lick sends him into overdrive and he grips your hair and tries telling you to take him deeper – just a little bit deeper. You drool and the spit starts to cover his balls – it's messy and the sounds he makes sound like straight up from porn. His head is thrown back and he gets lost in the feel of you – your mouth – and he can't believe you are here with him. He feels his balls pull up tighter and he pulls it out quickly before he is bending down to kiss you – he doesn't register the surprised sound you make when he pushes his tongue almost all the way back down your throat.

You taste like him because you are his, his, his and the growing need he has for you makes him almost rip your new pants before he is working his fingers inside of you – the familiar wetness and tightness make him feel like he is 30 again – and you cry out. He drills into you and snarls when your nails dig into his forearm, his nose bumps against yours and he wants to kiss you but he concentrates on making you cum because he wants to be inside of you. To mark you as his. His to kiss and hiss to make you cum and his to love and his, his, his. He searches for that spot and his other hand sneaks onto your inner thigh – when he finds it – he can hear it from the high-pitched moan that you let out. He smacks you onto your inner thigh and you jump forward and try to get away from him. It's too much – his fingers, his groans and talks and his tongue that find its way into your mouth. He's too much and he can feel you are almost there – almost. He grabs your throat and his eyes watch your Adam's apple bob – his thumb putting slight pressure on it. The squelching sounds of your pussy make him double his efforts and he can feel you getting closer and closer with every pass of his fingers through your walls – your pleas echoing through the room. He knows you need more and he grins menacingly when he sees how your pussy glistens with your juices and soak his hand.

“Fuck, sweetheart look at you. Soaking me. You want to cum?” He knows you do and he is downright cruel when he slows down and you sob because you want to cum – you nod and he is not happy with that – swatting you against your inner thigh once again before repeating that question.

“Yes, yes, Joel! I want to cum, please make me cum!” You feel on a verge of tears and he kisses you softly before he continues his previous efforts – his thumb now circling your clit and it's the additional stimulation you needed. He curses when he feels you squeeing him and he works you through it – your vision goes white and all you can think about is Joel and how good he is – before you come back down and he is still working his way inside of you and suddenly its too much – you try to push him away but the hand on your thigh just grips you harder – the blunt nails of his digging into your thigh.

“Please, Joel, Too much, it's too much!” You cry out but it's like he can't hear you and he bites your lower lip, his fingers never stopping and you can feel him pulling another orgasm out of you – you can feel him grin against your mouth and murmuring “that's it, such a good girl for me, sweetheart” before you are cuming again. Your legs shake and the moans you let out die down when he puts his coated fingers of your cum in your mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head – he is kissing you and then telling you to “share with him” and it's so fucking nasty – a string of saliva connecting you both before he is wiping his mouth. You are sedated and when he reaches for something in his bedside table you don't really care. The sound of foil tearing makes you open your eyes and you see how he pulls the condom on his dick before he is crawling to you.

“Come on, sweetheart. You gonna ride me.” He says and you don't feel like you have that much of a choice – he is pulling you on top of him and before you know it he notches the head of his dick between your folds. You grab the base of him and slowly sink down on him – you forgot how fucking thick and big he was and you need a moment before you start moving. Your muscles are sore and your throat is dried up from all the moaning and screaming but when you look down to see Joel's blissed-out expression – you start to move slowly. He lets you ride him at your own pace – you are the one in control now and he's here only for the right. He strokes his thumbs o your sides and then opens his eyes he feels like he will come right there and then. Your tits bounce with every pass of his cock against your walls and the way your head is thrown back and your throat on full display – his fingers twitch as he has the urge to bring you by your throat and kiss you.

The leisurely pace only lasts for a while before you can feel another orgasm build inside of you – the hair on the base of his cock scratch your clit deliciously. You dig your nails into his shoulders – one of your hands grabbing his jaw when you kiss him – he lets you and his hands move from your hips to your ass – squeezing the flash in his palms. You moan when you feel one of his hands sneak toward your clit but you push him away – breaking from the kiss.

“I am the one that is now in control, Texas.” The smirk you give him makes his cock twitch and he nods – his Adam's apple bobbing when he gulps and you til his chin up as you sink your teeth gently into it. He holds onto you tighter – your pace unfaltering and he wants to cum – needs to – but not before you. His heels dig into the mattress and you pull back to stop moving as your hips start to sway in a figure of eight. It does nothing for him and he whines – whines – in protest. You tell him to “shut up” because you are so so fucking close and that's when he grits his teeth together – his patience runs thin. His hands grab the chain with his ring on it – the only thing you are wearing – and he pulls you towards him by it. The look you throw him is absolutely wrecked and when you are close to his mouth – you need to kiss him, want to taste him – he pulls his head away from you to put the ring between his teeth. That alone almost makes you cum and you can't look away from him – even when he grabs you by the flash of your ass – and start sinking you down on him. You are completely mesmerized by the ring in his mouth and before you know it you are cuming – he slaps your ass when you do and you jolt forward – the ring falling from his mouth when he tangles his tongue with yours.

He fucks you through it and he sits up – his heels planting into the mattress so he can chase his own orgasm – he puts the ring into your mouth now and if he could he would take a picture of you like this – his ring between your teeth while he fucks you silly and your gorgeous body putty in his hands. His balls slap against the meat of your thighs and he puts his forehead on your chest – you can feel the small droplets of his sweat roll down his forehead. He pants and you know he is close – his pace now frantic as he kisses your chest. His lips make their way to your throat and every pass of his cock makes your walls twitch. You feel every vein of his and the head of him pushes against your g-spot. You start meeting his thrusts – pulling him closer to your neck as the only thing he can now do is groan and whine. He can feel your quick pulse and the way your fingers tangle in his locks as you tug him by it – you are overstimulated but he doesn't want this to stop. Never wants this to stop.

“Come on, baby. Want you to cum in me,” You whine and he shakes his head – he doesn’t want to, he doesn't, he doesn't…and then he is cumming as he empties his seed into the condom. He thrusts up at you a few times as he pushes himself through the afer shocks – you can feel him twitch in you before his body goes limp and you fall on him. He strokes your shoulder blades and you listen to his slowing heartbeat – your fingers drawing little hearts on his chest. He slowly pulls out of you and grips the condom by the base of it to tie it off and he throws it into the trash can next to his bed. He pulls you closer to him and you hum – slowly drifting off to sleep exhausted and worn out.

“Love you, Joel.” You say against his neck when you kiss him there and his heart swells up at your confession. He unclasps the chain from your neck and pulls the ring on your finger as he admires it.

“Love you too, baby.” You almost don't hear him when he whispers it against your lips – but you don't need him to say it – after all Joel is a man of actions and not words. And you are perfectly fine with that.