#but he desperately needed to be in more episodes so he could have more of a character

[angelsfuzzyslippers]

Rambles about portraits and Octavia

So I spent a lot of time staring at this shot while I was working on art

Especially the portraits (even though I didn't draw them) and there was one in particular that really caught my eye:

This is a bit long so I'll stick my thoughts under the cut:

This portrait fascinated me because I couldn't recall seeing one like it anywhere else. We rarely (maybe never? I'm not sure) get portraits of Stolas and Stella together without Octavia and this one stuck out to me because of the posing - Stella is full-on leaning into Stolas's space, and it's often tough for me to tell when Stella is genuinely smiling with her beak, but there's unmistakable joy on her face. At first I almost wondered if this was meant to be an indication of Stolas trying harder to fit into a mold early in their marriage, be more like the type of Prince and husband Stella expected (and that might still be the case to a degree). But then I remembered we're actually in Octavia's mind/songscape, so these portraits more likely reflect how she sees her family. These could represent what she wants her family to be, but... I kinda wonder if instead they show what Octavia thought her family already was. We know from The Circus that Stella's mistreatment of Stolas was happening before he met Blitz. But I don't think Octavia knew. In Loo-Loo Land, Stella and Stolas are making no efforts to hide their dysfunctional marriage from her, but some of her statements later in the episode when she's having her heart-to-heart with Stolas ("Home doesn't even feel like home anymore, you ruined it." "When I was a kid and my parents didn't hate each other...") to me indicate that this dysfunction is somewhat new to her, a regular occurrence by that episode (as she doesn't bat an eye at the thrown plant), but not a long-term thing that she's accustomed to, and she immediately connects it with her father flirting with Blitz. I wonder if Stolas was actually doing a great job at hiding the cracks in his marriage - until Blitz came into the picture and suddenly he lost his grip on the facade. It would certainly help explain why Octavia repeatedly pins blame on Blitz, specifically, for their issues and why she's not as quick to place blame on her mother - from her perspective everything might've been fine until her father cheated, and her mothers aggression comes across as legitimate upset instead of long-term abuse. No idea how true any of this is, just some possibilities I was mulling over! Either way she and Stolas desperately need an honest conversation 😭

[rnadett]

@transsweets Sorry, Guys u clearly missed a LOT from my analysis.

1. It was never just Caitlyn. It was Vi’s and Jayce’s agreement too. Vi knew exactly what The Grey was, and Jayce specifically designed her weapon for a strike mission. Loris’s, Steb’s, and Maddie’s weapons were all built for the same purpose—to strike.

Do you really think Jayce was like, "Yeah, I have no idea why you need these weapons designed like this, but sure, I’ll do it—no questions asked"?

Second: Margot and Chross, with their "Game of Thrones" in the undercity, harmed more civilians than the gas itself ever did. If it had continued, it would’ve been a full-blown catastrophe for the people living there. Margot’s clients were mostly high-influence figures in Zaun—primarily criminals and other gang members—because they were the only ones who could afford her services. Also, Zaun is HUGE. Pls look at the map! And yes, that ties directly to the meaning of my first sentence. >>

Ekko didn’t intervene or say anything against the gas, even though he was still there when they started using it. The Firelights knew everything happening in Zaun, especially something as big as clearing out Zaun’s (Ekko's) number one issue—the Chem Barons’ turf war, which caused the massive influx of refugees. That's an agreement because:

Ekko would’ve been the first to storm out, especially on Vi, if he didn’t agree with it.

I broke down every point, and now you’re just bringing it back up without actually reading. Every single character interaction (even if it didn't happened directly but you have a feeling for it) in Arcane has meaning—even if you "miss" it. Also, if the gas was the worst thing in Zaun, then why wasn’t it in any other part of in the whole later? Why didn’t it linger in other areas? Pls, just rewatch the episodes.

Also, why didn’t Sevika bring it up again beyond Vander’s statue? She doesn’t mention a word about it. If this had been Caitlyn’s greatest crime against Zaun, she would’ve used it to rally the Zaunites to her side. Instead, the central point of her speech was that there were Noxian soldiers in Zaun—something, yes, Caitlyn allowed.

Also, I never excused the use of the gas, nor did I ever say it was the best thing that could happen or that they should be thankful for it.

All I'm saying: It prevented a bloody war that would have been far more violent and brutal than the one that killed Vi and Jinx’s parents.

Sometimes I feel like people have more sympathy for the Chem Barons because of the whole "what they’ve been through made them like this" narrative, but you completely ignore the fact that they hurt and kill civilians along the way, becoming oppressors to innocent people. This completely misses the point of the series—that there is always a choice in what kind of person you become, (even if you're in an oppressed group) and it’s never too late to change for the better.

It’s okay if ppl can’t forgive Caitlyn’s actions, even though she was willing to die for them. But I smell hypocrisy, especially when they say things like "Jinx never killed civilians." No, she just stood by Silco’s side and helped maintain his power while he got half of Zaun addicted to Shimmer, causing quicker and longer suffering. Good souls can only be exploited and driven to desperation for so long. (also with my slides, I never made Jinx dirty - My slides didn't meant to be a Pro Cait and Anti Jinx post... )

I lost my father to drug addiction—he ended up like the people in Zaun, just skin and bones. We fell into debt trying to get him from one therapy to another, (or what is the right word in english..) so I can relate to that aspect. And yet, I can still sympathize with Jinx and even Silco, despite the fact that they likely ruined countless families forever I can completely see every part of it, even the parts of Silco’s rule that weren’t shown—like how Silco might have sent his goons to collect money from families because, for example, the father was so addicted to Shimmer that he bought it on credit. Later, they’d try to collect the debt from a 10-year-old child who opened the door for them. You can imagine the rest.

Because everyone who upholds that system shares the guilt.

As Ekko and Vi said, under Silco’s rule, it was the worst for civilians. But at least Silco had a brain. The Chem Barons’ power war, like the one after Vander died, would’ve lasted so much longer and caused even more devastation.

How interesting that the strike team never targeted Ekko who didn't exploited civilians?

Also, what do you think who gave them the info that they should strike Margot's place?

It was most likely Vi's suggestion since the topside - thanks to Marcus- still didn't anything specific about the Chem Barons.

Ekko AGREED to use The GREY to neutralize the Chem-Barons.

Here's the analysis:

False, one-page or one-sentence ragebait posts always spread faster than detailed content, even though, to get an accurate picture, it's important to examine the details, not just take something out of context without meaning. If you're interested, you can find more in-depth analyses on my profile, such as why it was Heimerdinger, whose 200 years of neglect and inaction created the entire conflict between Zaun and Piltover.

Thank you for reading it!

[galactichoneybee92]

Helluva Boss Season 3 Predictions

So now that I've spent the past week or so recovering from Sinsmas, I'd like to take some time to think about what's coming in the next season. Strap in: This post got WAY longer than anticipated. Spoiler warning for absolutely everything.

We are going to have ample time to concoct theories since Vivzie already confirmed that there will be a considerable wait for the new season. However, she did also confirm that we will be getting more shorts to hold us over and also that the extended wait time is in order to facilitate a more regular update schedule once season 3 premiers. We haven't gotten any further information on what that schedule might look like but I'm hoping for weekly releases instead of monthly so, you know, fingers crossed.

While season 2 was incredibly heavy on the Stolitz arc, Vivzie has stated that season 3 will be more focused on exploring some of the other characters. I'm sure Stolitz isn't going to disappear and that some of the episodes will still be focused on the progression of their relationship (I've seen some people saying that the Stolitz arc is over and like...respectfully...no? They're not even officially together? They have so much ground left to cover) but it would be nice to flesh out the rest of the characters in this universe.

One of the big plot points will of course be Millie's pregnancy. Now let me just say now, I'm already so incredibly sick of the "Millie cheated" theory. As if that's the only reason that a woman could be nervous about an unplanned pregnancy. Be so fucking for real. As for how I think they'll handle it, I think there could be some interesting juxtaposition happening between Stolas losing his child and the M&Ms gaining theirs. Millie is clearly very anxious about the pregnancy and I would personally love if there was an episode devoted to her trying to find ways to talk to Moxxie or Blitz about it but never quite finding the words, and in the end it winds up being Stolas who is able to help her. Out of all of IMP, he's the only one who has not only raised a baby, but did so while he was very young and probably very apprehensive about it. For all that he loves his daughter, Octavia was very much conceived out of obligation rather than either he or Stella feeling ready to bring a child into the world and I just think that it could be a good bonding moment for the two of them.

Right now IMP very much feels like the gang + Stolas, and I desperately need there to be more time devoted to Stolas getting to know the rest of IMP better. I think bonding with Millie could be an excellent first step (Step 2: Him and Moxxie bond over musical theater. Millie and Blitz are always trying to pawn Moxxie off on each other when it comes to watching musicals with him and I think it would be really great if he could have a musical theater bestie who actually enjoys them. And lets be real- There's no way you can watch Stolas's entire little musical production in Mastermind and come out thinking that that dramatic little fuck wouldn't love a good musical)

Speaking of Octavia, I would love to explore her character more. I have a lot of thoughts and opinions on her that I will probably explore in another post but while she does frustrate me, I do love her. Additionally, I'm very interested in what Stella and Andrealphus have planned now. They succeeded in getting Stolas out of the picture, his titles have passed to Andrealphus until Octavia is of age, but that has to be soon, right? Octavia was 17 in season 1 and while I'm not sure how much time has passed she has to be coming up on 18. 18 was the age that Loona was going to age out of the foster system so it's apparently the age of majority in Hell, the same as on Earth, so that would be the age that she would inherit her father's titles and estate. What are their plans for her then?

I think it's very possible that they will continue with their plan to have Stolas killed now that they no longer need him. Would they go as far as to try and kill Octavia too? What would happen if they did? What is the line of succession? Octavia clearly doesn't have any children so would Andrealphus get to keep everything?

Stolas and Stella were engaged as children, but so far we haven't seen anything about an arranged marriage for Octavia. If Stolas had to marry in order to secure a "precautionary heir", wouldn't Octavia need to do the same now that she has inherited everything? I wonder if we will get either a birthday episode (Octavia dealing with having her 18th birthday without her father- Stolas dealing with missing his daughter's 18th birthday) or an arranged marriage plotline (Maybe Stella announces her daughter's engagement on her 18th birthday?)

This next theory is really out there but bear with me here and remember that they're strongly based on European royalty: What if Andrealphus tries to marry Octavia to secure the title for him and his sister.

Overall, I think an arranged marriage arc could really do a lot for Octavia's character in regard to her perspective on Stolas. Right now she only really views Stolas as her father, not as person in his own right, independent of his relationship to her. She only sees the ways in which he's failed her and not any of his own personal struggles. Furthermore, she had the quote from Sinsmas, 'You don't love mother and you don't love me- You love him." Which seems to imply that she thought her parents loved each other??? Stolas has mentioned on several occasions that he did his best to give her a normal life and I wonder if that included hiding the fact that he and Stella hated each other. It leads me to believe that maybe she thinks that they were happily in love until he met Blitz and then that was the catalyst for their marriage falling apart instead of their marriage having always been rotten at the core.

But what does that have to do with Octavia having an arranged marriage? Well I could see Octavia being very against it and Stella saying something like "Oh please, I had an arranged marriage when I was your age" and Octavia discovering the truth of the matter. She expressed surprise that her parents didn't marry for love and then Stella is like "Me? Love Stolas? Don't be ridiculous."

I mean naturally the wedding never happens- Stolas and IMP are able to interfere and save her from going through with it and maybe in the process repair her relationship with Stolas. Maybe they could steal her away and if she's staying with them she might be able to see all of the ways in which Blitz isn't some evil father-stealer like she's imagined him being. It sets it up for her to see them being soft with each other and maybe compare it to her memories of her parents and how they were never affectionate like that. Maybe Stolas will do something dorky that Stella would usually mock him for but instead Blitz will just roll his eyes and think it's cute and they might laugh about it together. And then Blitz would definitely make her smiley face pancakes in the morning (because he's nothing if not a girl-dad) and I could definitely see him remembering that one time in Sinsmas that Stolas mentioned that rats were Octavia's favorite snack and being sure to hunt some down for her.

Other unrelated small things I would like to see:

Blitz gets Stolas a little plant for the apartment.

Blitz gets some glow in the dark stars for the ceiling.

I'd love to explore Loona's character some more. How old was she when she went into foster care? Why was she there? Was she surrendered as a baby? Was she taken by whatever passes as CPS in Hell? Did she have any other foster families before Blitz? Why didn't they work out? Was she returned for behavioral issues or something? What's the story there? We got a little bit in Seeing Stars but not nearly enough and I would love to flesh out her backstory.

What about Loona's love life? She clearly had a crush on Vortex in season 1 and was disappointed to find out that not only did he already have a girlfriend but that that girlfriend was Bee- one of the seven deadly sins. Not someone she could compete with. Now me personally? I think that Bee has 2 hands and is the god of gluttony- she could definitely handle a 3-way polyamorous relationship. But that's just me. I don't actually have any sort of canon evidence to back that theory up, it's just more like a fun head canon: Let Loona Have a Boyfriend AND a Girlfriend 2025. (But if they introduce a new love interest for her? That's fine too. I just want my girl to be happy)

Finally, there has to be more about Barbie in season 3. Now I'm not super in love with her character like some of y'all are (This fandom has the unique ability to see a character with 30 seconds of screen time and LATCH ON like no one's business. See: Vasago) but she's an important part of Blitz's past. I think that a Barbie episode could be a good opportunity for Stolas (And Millie? And Moxxie? And Loona even? How much does IMP even know about Blitz's past???) to learn more about Blitz's past and trauma while also fleshing Barbie out as a character.

I feel that there are 3 major relationships that Blitz has to resolve in one way or another before he can properly heal from the events of the fire: Fizz, Barbie, and Cash. Him and Fizz have worked through their issues and are back on good terms and I feel like Barbie is next since we have actually met her in present day. Alternatively, we have no clue what Cash has been up to since the fire or even where he is now which leads me to believe that Blitz will probably be confronting him last, if at all.

That's all I've got so far but please, if you've read this far, drop a comment or a reblog with you own thoughts and opinions. Tell me what you think of my theories and share your own in return! We've got a long wait until the next season so we might as well scream about it together :)

[magnoliapromenadegalleria]

TLDR:

-People have a hard time connecting with Kant because his main motivation, Babe, is not around much.

-Kant and Bison are both guilty of lying to one another. Interested to see how they navigate their relationship now that they are both on to each other.

I've had this thought in my head since last week, but never got around to writing it down. I think part of the reason people, not me because if Kant had one fan it would be me, have such a hard time getting behind Kant's reasoning and motivation, is because we aren't that familiar with the object of said reasoning. Babe is Kant's motivation. He's the only family he's got as far as we know, and he's Babe's guardian. It's not only a question of if Kant doesn't do what Capt. Crunch does he will be sent to jail, it's if Kant doesn't do what Capri Sun does he will be sent to jail, and Babe will most likely go into the system because there's no one else. That's simply just not an option. Kant wasn't stealing cars because he liked the thrill of it, he did so because he needed to take care of his brother, and he was desperate. We joke that Kant is a terrible criminal, but I think that's the point? From the pieces that we can grasp, he was/is a criminal out of necessity after his parent's sudden death, and not just for the thrill of it. He wouldn't be in his current situation if he was great at it.

When you write it out like that, I think it makes one more empathetic to his plight but the problem is we don't really know Babe. I wrote in a previous post that Fadel and Kant are the same in different fonts. Both are protective of their brothers and will do anything to protect them, but the stark difference is we know Bison. He's a fleshed-out person and we feel bad for him. We don't know Babe. We know that he likes Shakespeare, he gets bullied, and he's Kan't brother. That's it. We go episodes without seeing him, and his absence leads one to forget that he's the main reason Kant is doing any of this at all. He just looks like a sleaze trying to stay out of jail.

With each episode, it is becoming clear that Kant is failing horribly with not becoming attached to Bison. He lies and has a healthy amount of fear of Bison, but his gestures are honest. He can't help it, he's been into Bison since before he knew what he was. He's not just sweet on Bison because he has a role to play, he's sweet on Bison period. With them living and working in such close proximity anyway, they were bound to be a thing.

But.

That's not what happened, and he can't even fully explore his feelings because this cop is threatening him and has put him in an impossible and dangerous situation with no resources or protection, Bison is a killer, and he's stressed out by both. There's definitely nuance and reasoning there with Bison, but baby boy is still incredibly lethal. Kant's head has got to be stronger than his heart and his other head, and as much as he likes Bison, he loves his brother abundantly more, and that's reasonable. He also does not know Bison. I wrote something last year while watching Only Friends about Sand and Ray's relationship that I think can be applied here. Kant and Bison are not getting the same insight into one another, for clear reasons. They're open with each other, but they are not completely honest with each other for, again, reasons.

Kant is lying to Bison, but Bison is also lying to Kant. Kant knows Bison is lying to him, but being a sweet-faced assassin is a pretty big omission. Bison is under the impression that he's killing bad people, but Kant isn't privy to that and only knows that under that pretty face with dreams and an artistic spirit with a love of cats lies a killer. Someone who could kill him and his brother and not think twice about it. Obviously not, but Kant does not know that. Someone who just as easily lies to him about a big part of his life, and with a lot more ease. Bison doesn't want to be an assassin anymore and wants to live his life, but as far we know he does not lose sleep over any of his kills, and that's still scary. Again, nuance there, I got a whole thought process on other mother raising children to be disposable assassins, but this post ain't that!

It's been touched on many times that Bison knows there's something up with Kant. He is a perceptive little thing, so there's no way he doesn't know Kant is not being truthful. Fadel has pointed out and Bison does not listen. Bison knows. Deep in his bones he's always known, but I think he didn't want to believe it because he's fallen for Kant. That may not have been the initial goal, he just wanted freedom and Kant's hot, great motivators, but dammit if he didn't fall for the guy. I have a similar theory about Kant. Let me explain, don't touch the mic, let me explain. Kant knows Bison's other occupation. Capt told him what was up and he hasn't been completely comfortable around Bison because he knows this information, but I don't think it really clicked for him until he went into Bison and Fadel's secret room. Not because he didn't believe it, but because he didn't want it to be true. I think he wanted Capt. to be wrong about this because he's fallen for Bison too, and not only that, he's falling deeper despite all that. Which is a terrifying revelation. And Bison protected his brother twice now? Kant might be better at keeping himself than the other three, and he might be lying to himself out of self preservation, but he's just as gone. Now that both know about the other, I'm so ready for them to finally be truthful and truly lay themselves bare without deceit between them.

...This got away from me, but whatever.

One last thing! I think this scene above is after all truths and betrayal are out in the open because that looks like a taxi, probably stolen, Kant looks like he might be wearing some sort of uniform that hides his tattoos, and Bison is wearing a hat to hide his identity. Okay, I'm done.

[bumblecrisp]

the problem i have with arcane viktor isn’t that he’s no longer the machine herald we know from league, it’s that it is no longer a story ABOUT viktor. it’s a story about the arcane. ok does that make sense. stick with me here

viktor in s2 is taken over by the arcane. transformed by it. changed by it physically and mentally. it literally cleaves his mind in two to realize its form in his body. right? and that’s great! that’s genuinely really cool! BUT.

old lore viktor is taken over by OBSESSION. his own desire for improvement, for perfection, his hunger for progress. that is IMPORTANT. it is important to his character, it is very very important to me that we understand that viktor in s1 is by all appearances progressing along that path. viktor is dying, viktor is out of time, viktor is DESPERATE. he wants to save his own life, but crucially not as a selfish act. he sees himself as a VESSEL FOR PROGRESS. ok? that is so so important. viktor does not value his life as a human life, he only needs to remain alive so he can be a VESSEL FOR PROGRESS. i am dancing around yelling and waving my arms. this is SO crucial to his character and its like . so poorly handled in s2 it makes me INSANE i mean neurodivergent. i get that they were trying to do some evangelion thing but AAAAAARGGGGH they’re so WRONG about him.

ok? ok? do you see where i’m going. viktor is a desperate desperate man with a brilliant mind and shaking hands and he is working and he is working and he is out of time and he is going to do whatever the fuck it takes to give himself the chance to save his people. he is going to replace his flesh with silver and steel for sinew and platinum in his veins and he is going to tear out his own heart and replace it with a machine just for a little more time. he is absolutely selfless, and he is extraordinarily arrogant. ok? ok?

he is exceptional. he is a zaunite prodigy. he is the only hope.

he is a genius. he is a genius. it has to be him. his gears are softly turning and he is going to save his people. no matter what cost. no matter what cost. he is going to save his people no matter what cost.

and that is lost, in s2! it is so important to me. one of my favourite champion stories. and it’s gone. poof. what they have in s2 is just echoes. one-off lines about uniting the people, tossing out a “glorious evolution” to humour the old fans. it’s heartbreaking! he’s gone! the thing arcane fans don’t understand is that this isn’t just a rushed storyline, it’s a fundamental change to his character! don’t even get me STARTED on the whole thing with skye. the POINT!!! is that he makes SACRIFICES in the name of progress - himself! others! it’s all necessary evils for the greater good! they are so wrong about him im gonna lose it!!!!!!!!!

s1 viktor was beautiful, perfect, a wonderful WONDERFUL representation of the human he used to be, everything was in place, and then the whole character was sacrificed for a narrative tool to force a piltover/zaun reconciliation speedrun so they could keep it to nine episodes. it’s genuinely heartbreaking.

anyway. i should probably stop yelling at the wind and go write some fanfiction huh

[thecoolerliauditore]

I've seen alot of takes from both toxic fh truthers and fh shippers that Scott will never ever get over Jimmy and will obsess over him until he dies forever which. I don't fault anyone for asserting considering that fucker has two jokes and one of them is lolol remember fh But. I think there's something to be said about how Scott has shown time and time again he really is not in love with any personal qualities Jimmy possesses (quite the opposite actually, he seems to find Jimmy obnoxious more often than not during third life including when Jimmy is not really even doing anything) but is rather entranced with the romantic fantasy that Jimmy brings.

Jimmy is, after all, young and pretty and in love and someone he feels relies on him and lets him feel useful so it's not hard to assign him as husband and leave it at that. I don't think Scott is quite in love with Jimmy tbh but I do think he's very much in love with his husband (jimmy). If that makes sense.

With that in mind, I think it's then fascinating when you look at the universes where FH assumably never existed or where he is able to find a replacement for his romantic fantasy relationship. Witchcraft Scott has Milo and Rat Scott has his weird platonic(????) thing with Owen and Pirate Scott focused on his brother instead, Scott tends to actually move on pretty well and adjust to being more. Chill.

Now then if I said last life Scott almost got to this point with his thing with GGG and Pearl specifically challenging his worldview. And then he fucked it all up. Then

[coolauntlilith]

Every now and then I replay the first episode of VLD and I wonder why I thought it be a good show lol

[creamflix]

EPISODE 9 — VIRGINITY LOSS & RIDING ! — featuring gojo satoru & geto suguru content warnings: established relationship, lots of praising, oral (f. receiving), overstimulation, finger sucking, virginity loss, riding, soft dom gojo, soft dom suguru — kinktober masterlist ♰ general masterlist

GOJO couldn't tear his eyes away from you, the sight of the ring on your finger, sparkling faintly in the dimly lit room, making his chest tighten.

he’d thought the word would never suit him — ‘husband’ sounded far too domestic for someone like him, but looking at you now, lying on your back beneath him, breathing softly as his lips brushed along your collarbone, it was the only title that made sense.

“god, i still can’t believe it,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and teasing. his fingers trailed down your sides, slow and deliberate, memorizing every inch. “you’re mine now. all mine.” his tone had a possessive edge, but his touch remained gentle, worshipping.

your breath hitched as his lips found your neck, sucking lightly before pulling away to look into your eyes. “you’ve always been mine,” you teased, the smirk tugging at your lips a small victory, knowing how easily you could push his buttons.

satoru chuckled, the sound low and almost dangerous, but his eyes betrayed nothing but pure adoration. “yeah, but this is different,” he murmured, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “now everyone knows. everyone knows you belong to me.”

the weight of his words settled heavily, but it didn’t scare you. in fact, it thrilled you — the way he claimed you, the way his touch felt like it was branding you as his own. his hands slipped lower, fingers tracing the curve of your waist as he leaned in, his mouth ghosting over your lips.

“i’ve been waiting for this,” satoru admitted, his voice softer now, almost vulnerable. “for so long.” he kissed you, deeply, as if trying to prove a point. and in that kiss, you felt his need, the raw intensity behind every stroke of his tongue, every gentle bite of his teeth against your lower lip.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he whispered, pulling back just enough to let his words sink in, his breath mingling with yours. “how you make me lose my mind.”

he was always like this, cocky and full of himself, but the way he looked at you now — it was different. there was no arrogance, no smug grin, just… devotion. an unwavering, undiluted love that made your heart race.

“you love me that much, huh?” you teased again, though your voice was breathless, barely able to mask how he made you feel.

“more than you’ll ever know.” his hands gripped your hips firmly, fingers digging in just enough to leave a delicious sting, and his lips quirked into a grin. “but i’ll show you. i’ll show you how much you mean to me. how good i can make you feel.”

he shifted, positioning himself between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours as his lips hovered above your stomach, trailing lower and lower. every kiss, every touch felt like a silent promise, an unspoken vow to always make you his.

“you’ve been so good to me, baby,” he murmured, his voice laced with praise, fingers slipping between your thighs. “my perfect little wife, always so sweet for me.”

your body trembled under his touch, the praise sinking in deep, and your eyes fluttered shut as his lips brushed over the inside of your thigh. he chuckled, feeling your reaction, his ego swelling as he pressed soft kisses along your skin.

“see? i knew you’d be perfect for me,” he purred, his fingers moving in teasing circles. “always knew. even back then.” his voice dropped, becoming darker, more serious. “but now… now, i get to ruin you. make sure you never forget who you belong to.”

his words were filthy, but they had you unraveling, each syllable seeping into your core as his fingers finally pressed into you, slow and deliberate. your back arched, and satoru’s name spilled from your lips, breathless and desperate.

gojo’s eyes never left yours as he brought his fingers to his mouth, your slick coating them. with a deliberate slowness, he licked each finger clean, his tongue tracing along the length of his digits, savoring every drop. his gaze was dark, intense, and it sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your belly all over again.

“sweet as always,” he murmured, voice rough with desire. “you’re perfect, baby.”

before you could respond, he slid those same fingers between your lips, gently guiding them into your mouth. his eyes locked on yours as you sucked on them, your tongue swirling around his fingers. the low groan that rumbled from his chest told you just how much he loved the feel of you, warm and soft around him.

“fuck, that feels good,” he breathed, his hips shifting slightly against you, his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh. he pulled his fingers from your mouth slowly, savoring the wet heat before letting his thumb caress your bottom lip. but then, his expression shifted, the teasing glint in his eyes fading just a bit, replaced with something more serious. his breathing slowed, and the air between you thickened, heavy with anticipation.

“baby,” his voice dropped, more sincere now, a quiet edge of vulnerability you didn’t hear from him often. “are you ready for this?” he asked, his tone careful. “i mean… really ready?”

the question hung in the air, the weight of it settling over both of you. you knew what he meant. this was something the two of you hadn’t done yet — something that went beyond just being together, beyond the teasing touches and playful kisses. it was the final step, the ultimate form of giving yourself to each other. your first time, and his.

you bit your lip, heart racing as you looked up at him, the nervousness you felt mirrored in his gaze. he wasn’t the ever-confident, cocky gojo satoru in this moment. he was just… satoru, your satoru, and he was asking you to take this next step with him.

he leaned in, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his hand cradling the side of your face with such tenderness it almost broke your heart. “i want it to be with you. only you.” his voice was barely above a whisper, full of sincerity and emotion. “but if you’re not ready, we can wait. i’m not rushing you.”

the softness in his words, the way he always put you first, made your chest tighten. this wasn’t just a physical thing for him; it was more. it was his way of showing you that he loved you, that he was willing to give you all of him, completely.

you swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest, but there was no hesitation when you spoke.

“i’m ready, satoru,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the flutter of nerves. your hand came up to cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently over his skin. “i want this. with you.”

he let out a shaky breath, a mix of relief and anticipation flooding his features as he kissed you, slow and deep, pouring everything he felt into that kiss. “i’ll take care of you,” he promised softly against your lips, his hands moving to slowly undress the rest of you, careful and patient, as though he was unwrapping the most precious gift.

“we’ll take it slow,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his lips trailed down your neck, “and if you need me to stop, you just say the word.”

the trust between you felt palpable, like an invisible thread tying you together, and as his lips moved lower, trailing kisses down your bare skin, you knew this moment would stay with you forever. this wasn’t just an act — it was a confession, a promise, something only the two of you would share.

satoru's hands slid lower, his touch gentle and reverent as he positioned himself above you, his gaze searching yours for any sign of doubt. there was none. you were ready for him, for this next step, for whatever came after. and as his lips found yours again, everything else faded away — there was only him, and the love you shared, stronger and more certain than ever before.

satoru’s breath hitched the moment his velvety tip slid past your entrance, and for a split second, his mind went completely blank. the warm, tight embrace of your walls was everything he had imagined - no, better. it felt like heaven itself was pulling him in, and he had to clench his jaw to stop the groan from escaping his throat too quickly. he blinked, dazed, barely able to process the overwhelming sensation with just the tip inside you.

“fuck,” he whispered, voice strained as his forehead pressed against yours, white strands of hair sticking to his damp skin. he hadn’t even moved, hadn’t even begun to feel the full extent of you wrapped around him, and already, his body was betraying him. it was so good that his brain short-circuited for a second, a wave of pleasure so intense that he had to remind himself to breathe.

his hands gripped your hips, trying to ground himself, his eyes squeezed shut as he focused on not losing control. he hadn’t even begun to truly enter you yet, but the way your body hugged him made it nearly impossible to think straight. what the hell’s gonna happen when i’m all the way in?

you gasped his name, your voice breathless, and satoru’s eyes shot open. your hands were clutching at his shoulders, and you looked up at him with a soft concern that made his heart swell. “‘toru... are you okay?”

that question nearly sent him over the edge right then and there. the way your voice trembled, the way you said his name — it was pure, unfiltered sweetness, like you were worried about him when he should be the one making sure you were alright. you were making this so much harder for him, and the way your body trembled beneath him didn’t help.

he chuckled softly, though his breath was shaky, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. “you’re asking me if i’m okay?” his voice was hoarse, struggling to maintain his usual composure. “baby, you feel so damn good I’m trying not to lose it here.”

his fingers dug into your hips, keeping himself steady as he slowly pushed forward, sinking in just a little more. every inch felt like torture, a blissful, agonizing kind of torture, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from groaning too loudly. the way you fit around him — it was like you were made for him, every part of you molding perfectly to his shape, and he could feel his restraint slipping with every breath.

“i knew it’d be good,” he murmured, his voice strained as he kept himself from thrusting all the way in, “but this —” he swallowed hard, fighting the urge to just give in and bury himself inside you. “this is something else.”

his forehead pressed harder against yours, the heat between your bodies intensifying as he whispered against your lips. “you’re killing me, you know that?”

your breathless moans were making it worse, each sound sending another shock of arousal through his system, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge of losing control. i can’t finish too soon, he told himself, struggling to keep his mind focused on anything but the way your body felt wrapped around him. what kind of husband would i be if i did?

he forced himself to stop, his hips trembling as he held still, buried just halfway inside you. his chest heaved, his breath ragged as he kissed you, the desperation in his touch clear. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with need. “so fucking perfect, i don’t know how much longer i can hold back.”

he needed to move, to bury himself in you completely, but he couldn’t — at least, not yet. just a little more, he thought, fighting to keep his control intact, even as your name spilled from his lips in a quiet, reverent whisper.

when you whispered for him to go faster, satoru practically whined, his lips brushing against your skin as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. your words sent a pulse of heat straight through him, and his hips twitched in response, aching to give you exactly what you wanted. but there was a problem, one that satoru didn’t quite know how to confess. if he went faster — if he gave in to that pace — he wouldn’t last. not with how perfectly you enveloped him, how snug and warm you felt around him.

“baby,” his voice came out strained, almost desperate, as his fingers dug into your hips, holding you firmly in place. he couldn’t help the soft groan that escaped his throat, his mind foggy with the overwhelming sensation of being inside you. he wanted to go faster, to drive into you like you were begging him to, but the tightness of your walls around him made it impossible to think clearly. it was too good — you were too good.

how could he tell you that? that speeding up, giving in to his primal urge, would mean a higher chance of losing himself too quickly? the last thing he wanted was to finish before he could truly savor this — savor you.

“i want to,” he admitted, his lips trailing up your jaw, voice thick with restraint. “god, i want to so bad.” his hips rocked forward slowly, and even that was almost too much. “but if i go any faster, i don’t know if i can hold out.”

his breath hitched, his forehead pressing against yours as he closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but how incredible you felt. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured, biting his lip as he thrust shallowly, savoring the sensation of your walls hugging him in all the right ways. “i don’t want this to end too soon.”

it was the truth — every second inside you was pure bliss, and he couldn’t get enough. you were pulling him in, making him want more, crave more. your body was so inviting, so snug, that it made him feel like he could drown in the pleasure. how could he not want more?

“fuck,” satoru groaned, his voice dropping lower as his grip on you tightened. “you don’t know what you do to me.” his movements remained slow, deliberate, as he tried to pace himself, but the desire to pick up speed, to give in to the growing need for release, was becoming harder to resist. every soft sound you made, every call of his name, only pushed him closer to the edge.

“you’re making it so hard for me,” he whispered, his tone laced with frustration and affection. “i don’t know how much longer i can keep this slow.” he smirked slightly, his lips brushing yours in a teasing kiss, as his hips ground against you in an agonizingly slow rhythm. “but i want to make it last. i want to feel you for as long as i can.”

his resolve was crumbling, though, and he knew it.

the second satoru admitted his fear of finishing too early, something in you shifted. the vulnerability in his voice stirred a new kind of thrill within you — one you hadn’t expected. you wanted to push him, tease him, see how far he could go before he snapped. the way his breath hitched when he said he might not last much longer sent a spark through you, igniting a dark, almost sadistic pleasure that made you want to see him lose control completely.

you leaned forward, lips grazing his ear before sinking your teeth into his shoulder — not too hard, but enough to make him wince, his body jerking in response. the sound that left his throat was almost a whimper, and you felt his hips stutter, his attempt to cover it up with a moan only making it more obvious. you heard him. felt him.

“fuck,” he hissed, his breath shaky as his hands clutched your hips even tighter. your name spilled from his lips, strained and broken, as he struggled to keep some semblance of control. but you could tell he was right on the edge, teetering between holding back and completely falling apart. and the way you bit him? that only made things worse. or better, depending on how you looked at it.

you grinned against his skin, biting down a little harder as he drove himself into you, his movements becoming more erratic, more desperate. each thrust was deep and unsteady, his usual confidence crumbling right before your eyes. and you loved it.

he whimpered again, his voice trembling as he tried to keep the rhythm, but you could feel the way his body tensed, the way his breathing became shallow and ragged. you knew he wouldn’t last much longer — he was barely holding on as it was.

“shit — baby — ” his voice cracked, and before either of you could even react, his hips bucked sharply against yours, and suddenly, his resolve shattered completely.

satoru gasped, his head dropping to your shoulder as he thrust deep one last time, his body convulsing as he came hard, hot ribbons of his release filling you. his hips jerked uncontrollably, every muscle in his body tensing as he rode out the waves of pleasure, gasping for air as he bucked against you, his movements wild and unrestrained.

“fuck, fuck —” he groaned, his voice breathless and raw, his grip on you bruising as he clung to you like a lifeline. the sensation of his hot, sticky release spilling into you, coating your insides, had him practically trembling, his body still shaking with the aftershocks as he pressed his forehead against yours.

his breath was ragged, his chest heaving as he tried to recover, but the look in his eyes was one of sheer exhaustion and bliss. “you... you did that on purpose,” he muttered, a weak grin tugging at his lips as he kissed you, his voice still breathless from the intensity of his release.

even though he was spent, there was no mistaking the spark of mischief that danced in his eyes.

you couldn’t help but laugh as you looked at satoru’s flushed face, still recovering from the intensity of his release. “how was that for a first time?” you teased, the playfulness in your tone undeniable.

but satoru didn’t immediately answer. instead, he shifted, his eyes dropping to the mess between your legs. with a soft groan, he lowered himself, settling between your thighs as his gaze locked onto the aftermath of what you two had just shared. small blobs of his cum clung to your folds, some of it slipping out and beginning to drip down your thighs. his eyes darkened at the sight, his expression growing more serious, more primal.

"fuck," he whispered, almost to himself, his fingers brushing lightly against your sensitive skin. he looked up at you with a lazy grin, his usual cockiness returning full force, despite the exhaustion still weighing on him. “i’d be damned if i let any of that go to waste.”

his words hung in the air, dripping with intent as he licked his lips. “so, what’s it gonna be, baby?” he asked, his tone dangerously playful as his fingers traced teasing circles on your thigh. “i either clean you up with my tongue…” his breath was hot against your skin as he dipped his head closer, lips hovering just above your slick folds, “or i fuck all of this back into you.”

he shot you a wicked grin, his blue eyes gleaming with mischief and lust, as if the answer didn’t really matter — he was going to enjoy either option. his lips brushed against the inside of your thigh, and you could feel the heat of him, so close to where you needed him most.

“so... what’s it gonna be?” his voice dropped lower, his gaze flickering up to meet yours, his fingers lightly grazing over the mess he left, a teasing promise of what was to come.

a rush of heat surged through your body at his words, igniting something deep inside you. the way satoru’s voice dropped, teasing and full of promise, had your heart pounding in your chest. your breath hitched, barely able to hold back the whine that spilled from your lips.

“just — anything with your tongue, ‘toru,” you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. your thighs instinctively tried to close around him, but his strong hands held you in place, spreading you open as he gave you that signature grin of his — cocky, mischievous, and entirely in control.

“oh, baby,” he chuckled, his breath warm against your sensitive skin, “i’ll show you exactly what this tongue can do.”

and then, without warning, he dove into your folds, his mouth hot and relentless as his tongue swirled around your entrance, lapping up every bit of the mess he’d left behind. the sensation was immediate and overwhelming. your body jolted at the sudden contact, a sharp gasp escaping your throat as satoru devoured you, his tongue dragging over your slick heat with a precision that left you writhing.

“fuck — ‘toru,” you moaned, your hands fisting into the sheets as his tongue worked you over with a hunger that bordered on feral. he wasn’t gentle — he was ravenous, his mouth pressing against you with an intensity that made your legs tremble. he teased and taunted, his lips brushing over your swollen clit only to pull away and return to your entrance, sucking and licking until every last drop of his cum was cleaned from your folds.

but he didn’t stop there.

he groaned low against your skin, his tongue pushing deeper, his hands gripping your thighs as he spread you wider, angling your hips so he could bury his face further into you. “god, you taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his voice muffled against your cunt as his tongue dipped in and out of you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

your back arched off the bed, your fingers scrambling to find purchase in his hair as he ate you out like a man starved. the pressure was building, intense and almost too much. but satoru didn’t slow down — if anything, he pushed harder, his tongue fucking into you, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking hard, making your entire body quiver.

“you’re shaking, baby,” he murmured between licks, his tone teasing, but there was something darker in his voice, something that told you he wasn’t even close to done with you yet. “you like that, huh?”

you barely managed to nod, your breath coming in ragged pants as he continued his assault on your senses. the pleasure was dizzying, overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that. it was the way he was relentless, the way he stuffed you with his tongue, as if he was determined to make you feel every inch of it, to push you past the point of pleasure and into something else entirely — something bordering on painful in its intensity.

it was a pleasurable pain, though. the way his tongue worked inside you, the way his hands gripped your hips and forced you to take everything he gave you — it was too much, and yet not enough all at once.

your stomach clenched as the pressure built, his mouth working you closer and closer to the edge until the sensation almost hurt in the most exquisite way possible. every drag of his tongue, every pull of his lips had your body tensing, your thighs trembling with the need for release, but satoru wasn’t giving you that yet. no, he wanted to take his time — wanted to push you to the brink and keep you there.

“fuck, satoru — please,” you whimpered, your hands tugging at his hair, your body teetering between pleasure and pain as he pushed you further and further. your cunt ached from the way his tongue filled you, stretching you in ways that left you gasping, your body trembling from the sensation.

he chuckled darkly against your folds, his hands pressing your thighs even further apart as his tongue delved deep inside you again, swirling and licking, relentless in his pursuit to break you.

“not yet, baby,” he growled, pulling back for just a second, his lips shiny with your arousal. “i’m not done with you.”

and then he dove back in, his tongue fucking into you with renewed intensity, his lips and teeth grazing your clit as he pulled you even closer to that line, keeping you teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, between ecstasy and something darker, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

after what seemed like an eternity of being overwhelmed by his relentless tongue, satoru finally lifted his head from between your legs, his lips wet and shining with evidence of his handiwork. his blue eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he gazed up at you, his trademark smirk plastered across his face.

“how’s that, baby?” he teased, voice thick with amusement and pride, as if he hadn’t just pushed you to the brink of overstimulation.

his white hair stuck to his forehead, damp from sweat, but that didn’t stop him from looking impossibly smug as he leaned down to plant a soft kiss on your inner thigh. you twitched at the contact, your body still trembling from the intensity of what he’d just put you through.

with a wink, he looked up at you, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin along your thigh. “a little payback,” he said playfully, clearly satisfied with himself for the way he’d worked you over. he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, his lips brushing against the skin as he continued to pepper lazy kisses up your leg.

you could barely form words, still reeling from the intensity of it all, your breath shaky as you tried to catch it. satoru’s teasing grin only widened as he sat up, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling back over your body, settling his weight on top of you.

“told you i’d show you what my tongue can do,” he whispered against your lips, kissing you softly. the taste of him, of you, lingered on his lips as his hands wandered down to your hips, massaging the tender skin there.

"think you can handle more?" he asked, eyes darkening slightly as his grin shifted into something more dangerous, more enticing.

with SUGURU, you felt like you were on top of the world — your partner, your lover, your everything. his presence alone made you feel weightless, like nothing could pull you down. little did you know, though, that you’d soon be literally on top of the world with him, straddling suguru and watching his dark eyes devour every inch of you as you rode him.

“that’s my girl,” he murmured, voice rich with affection as his hands found your hips, grounding you. his fingertips dug into your skin, pulling you down onto him, guiding your movements with a gentle but insistent grip that made you shiver. his hands slipped up to your waist, one sneaking up your back to pull you closer, his touch reverent yet possessive. “you feel so good… you’re perfect like this.”

your cheeks flushed at the praise, warmth flooding through you as you moved in sync with his guidance. suguru’s gaze stayed locked on you, his eyes full of admiration as his thumbs rubbed circles into your skin. he tilted his head back, sighing deeply, his lips parted as he took in the sight of you on top of him.

“so beautiful, baby,” he murmured, voice thick with awe and desire. his hands roamed up and down your body, groping and squeezing, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, each caress claiming more of you. “you don’t know what you do to me.”

you leaned into his touch, letting him pull you closer until your chest was pressed against his. suguru wrapped an arm around you, fingers tracing the curve of your back as he leaned in, pressing tender kisses along your collarbone, up the side of your neck. every kiss sent tingles down your spine, making you arch into him, his lips warm and soothing against your flushed skin.

“you’re doing so well for me,” he praised, his hand trailing back down to squeeze your hip, pulling you flush against him as he let out a low groan. “just like that, baby… so good.” his other hand came up to cup your cheek, guiding your face toward his as he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. “my perfect girl.”

the sweet endearments poured from his lips with every thrust, each one making your heart race. he’d never sounded so tender, so in awe of you, and it made you feel like you truly were on top of the world, held up by his adoration and strength.

“look at you,” he murmured, brushing his thumb over your cheek, his voice full of pride and affection. “you’re everything i could ever want.”

the moment he felt you slow down, suguru’s hands tightened on your hips, grounding you as he rocked his own up to meet you, pressing deep. the upward thrust of his hips made your eyes roll back, and a faint, breathless moan slipped from your lips, your body tightening around him involuntarily. the friction, the stretch—it was almost too much and yet exactly what you needed, igniting a warmth deep in your belly that only suguru could give.

“what’s this, baby?” he teased, his voice a dark, honeyed whisper that sent shivers down your spine. “do i really have to do all the work here?” he grinned, one hand drifting up to gently flick your nipple, earning another soft gasp from you as you blinked, trying to focus on him. “didn’t you say you were gonna take care of me tonight?”

“i am—” you managed, voice barely above a whisper, but you trailed off, feeling the heat pool between your legs as his thumb brushed across your sensitive skin, his hands now trailing up your sides, leaving your skin tingling and sensitive to every touch. his gaze was heavy, adoring, yet clearly amused as he took in the dazed look in your eyes, his tongue flicking over his lips as he chuckled.

“oh, i know you are, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your nipples with deliberate slowness, watching your back arch in response. “just seems like you’re getting a little… distracted.” his tone was low and teasing, and with another thrust of his hips upward, he ground deeper into you, drawing out a soft, breathy moan. “mmph…”

you bit your lip, trying to stay focused, but each gentle thrust from below and the way his hands molded to your body, groping and teasing, left you gasping and clutching onto his shoulders. his hands stayed busy, one pinching a nipple while the other skimmed over your waist, making it nearly impossible to keep your rhythm steady. every time you slowed, he was there to fill the gap, his hips meeting yours with just enough force to jolt you back to reality.

“c’mon, baby,” he whispered, his voice a warm caress against your skin. “thought you wanted to take care of me?”

suguru’s grip tightened around your waist, his patience fraying as he watched you try to keep up. he knew he wasn’t making it easy for you—he was big, girthy enough that you could feel every inch stretch you, pulse inside you. seeing you struggle, cheeks flushed and brows knit in concentration, only fueled his desire to take control.

“alright, baby,” he murmured, that dark, low voice holding a hint of amusement as his hands slid down to your waist, fingers splaying out to hold you steady. “guess i’ll help you out a little.”

before you could respond, he lifted you slightly, pulling almost all the way out, only to bring you crashing back down onto him. his hips met yours with a solid, breathtaking thrust that made you cry out, your body tightening around him as he set a pace, guiding you up and down on his cock. each motion left you gasping, your body jolting from the force of his movements.

“fuck—sugu,” you moaned, barely able to keep up as he held you firmly, his thrusts deep and relentless. each time he bottomed out, a shiver of pleasure shot through you, toes curling as he buried himself to the hilt, stretching you until you could hardly breathe. the obscene, wet squelch of your bodies meeting filled the room, echoing each time he guided you back down onto him, more consistent, more indignant.

“that’s my girl,” he muttered, almost to himself, watching you take him in again and again, his jaw clenched with satisfaction. “so good for me—look at you.”

your hands scrambled for purchase, finding his shoulders as you leaned forward, resting against his chest while he continued to drive himself into you, the broken moans tumbling from your lips only making him grip you tighter, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he pushed you down onto him, again and again.

his voice dropped to a husky murmur, thick with pride as he watched you struggle to keep up with the rhythm he set, your body soft and pliant under his guidance. "look at you, baby," he whispered, brushing a hand over your stomach, his fingers tracing the bulge pressing up beneath your skin with a dark fascination. “taking all of me… mmph, look at that—feel that?”

you nodded shakily, breaths coming in short, uneven gasps as you felt the shape of him, impossibly deep. the sight of that bulge sent heat rushing through you, making it hard to focus on anything but him as his voice washed over you.

“god, you’re doing so good for me,” he continued, his hands pressing down on your waist, keeping you steady as he filled you up with each roll of his hips. “riding me so well—even if i am doing all the work, huh?” his laugh was low, teasing, as he pushed up into you, coaxing another whimper from your lips. “ah—there you go.”

his praises wrapped around you, each word sending a wave of pleasure coursing through your body. “taking me so well, sweetheart,” he groaned, his voice filled with awe as he watched your body struggle to accommodate him. every movement was slow, deliberate, each thrust pressing the bulge in your stomach up, forcing you to feel just how deep he was.

“my perfect girl,” he muttered, his thumb stroking over the bulge as he thrust up again, making you gasp as he pressed even deeper. “don’t know how you’re doing it—but you’re handling me so good.”

your gaze was fixed on him—his dark hair fanned across the pillow, those lust-filled eyes glued to you—and that was all it took to tip you over the edge. a high-pitched moan tore from your throat as you came undone, your release spilling over his toned torso with a wet splash. his lips curled into a soft smile, cooing softly as he ran a hand up your back.

"there you go, baby,” he murmured, clearly pleased. but he wasn’t done—not even close. without missing a beat, he snapped his hips up with renewed intensity, filling the room with the sharp, wet slap of skin meeting skin as he drove himself deeper, faster.

“ah—ahh!” you gasped, barely able to catch your breath as he continued thrusting into you, your entire body jolting with every movement. you clung to him desperately, your nails digging into his shoulders as your own noises slipped from you uncontrollably, each one blending with the rhythmic smack, smack of his hips crashing into you.

drooling onto his chest, your mouth was parted, and you could only manage breathy whimpers as he buried himself to the hilt again and again. he pressed a hand to the small of your back, drawing you closer with each upward thrust, his own low, satisfied groans mixing with the wet, messy sounds of your bodies.

“god, listen to you,” he praised, his voice a raspy murmur against your ear. “taking me so well, baby… just like that.”

as his pace quickened, you felt his hand slip between your bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive, swollen clit with an expert touch. “c’mon, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice thick with need as he began flicking and circling your clit, drawing out a gasp from deep within you. he kept up the rhythm, each touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you as he held you close, his thrusts hitting deeper, rougher.

“ngh—sugu!” you cried out, feeling the wave build impossibly fast under his touch. he watched with dark, focused eyes, his fingers relentless as he teased you, bringing you closer with every flick and press of his thumb.

“that’s it, let go for me,” he coaxed, his voice low and soothing, his own movements becoming ragged as he teetered on the edge. you couldn’t help it—the pleasure overwhelmed you, crashing down in a shuddering, breathless release, a high-pitched moan spilling from your lips as you clenched tightly around him.

“fuck, baby—” he groaned, his hips jerking as he finally let go, filling you up with a deep, satisfied growl as he spilled inside, his release warm and thick, making you shudder with each pulse. his fingers slowed, soothing your overstimulated clit with gentle strokes, holding you close as both of you caught your breath, wrapped up in the lingering warmth of each other.

still buried deep inside you, suguru looked down, his gaze darkening as he noticed the little trickle of his release escaping from where your bodies were joined. he tutted softly, his fingers trailing down to scoop up the creamy slick before bringing his hand up to your lips. his eyes held a playful glint, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he tilted his head.

“we can’t be wasting anything, can we, baby?” he murmured, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip, pressing gently until your lips parted. “open up for me… there you go.”

obediently, you parted your lips, his fingers sliding in, and you wrapped your mouth around them, tasting the faint saltiness of him as he watched you intently. his fingers moved slowly, pushing just a little deeper as you sucked gently, your tongue swirling around each digit, savoring the warmth of his release. his breath hitched, and his other hand tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer.

“good girl,” he murmured, voice low and rough. “can always count on you to take care of me.”

coming up next . . . soft & anniversary sex ! starring sukuna ryomen and nanami kento ♰ — comment to be added to taglist ♡

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[nanaslutt]

Thinking about inexperienced Choso accidentally doing the knee thing during a makeout sesh

ʚ cont: afab reader, making out, dry humping, sexual tension, dirty talk, teasing, first time orgasming (Choso), cumming untouched, cumming in pants (Choso and reader)

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

You lay back against Choso's hard chest, his head on your shoulder and his arms wrapped around your torso as you lay on your bed together, catching up on some show the two of you have been watching. After watching about 4 or 5 consecutive episodes, the familiar "Are you still watching?" question showed on the screen, making you sigh.

"Whoever created this idea sucks, of course I'm still watching." You mumbled under your breath, beginning to lean your body off of Choso's to reach for the remote. Little did you know, Choso had been aching to kiss you all day. He knew the two of you usually ended up sharing kisses when you were alone like this, and each time it happened only increased his neediness for the next time you were together as he began to expect it as he did now.

Choso kept his arms tightly wrapped around your torso, preventing you from leaning forward. You were jolted back against his chest, your eyes going wide when you realized you were stuck. A smile grew on your face when Choso plopped his forehead down on your shoulder, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he blushed furiously, hoping you would catch on to what he wanted so he didn't have to say it.

You turned your head to face him and cupped his neck with your warm hand, pressing his face against you. "Cho, how am I meant to move when you hold onto me so tightly, huh?" You teased, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. Choso's eyebrows furrowed against your skin when he felt the familiar touch of your lips on him. He tentatively raised his head and looked into your eyes, his cheeks already a deep crimson red, eyebrows furrowed in a desperate look.

You kept your hand on his warm neck, feeling his pulse race under your fingertips. You smiled and licked your lips, staring back and forth between his eyes. Choso's breath was already picking up as the tension began to grow between the two of you. Choso swallowed hard as he looked between your eyes and your plush lips, looking like they were begging to be kissed. 

You leaned in ever so slightly, lips grazing against his, your body feeling hot when his arms tightened around your body as you did so. "Tell me what you want Choso." You whispered, your hot breath tickling his lips. Choso's lips were parted slightly expectantly, his breathing now more audible. "I wanna kiss." He replied, his fingers curling into your shirt that covered your stomach. 

You bit your lip, your nose tapping against his as you continued to tease him. "Yeah? You wanna kiss me?" You whispered, turning your head to the side as you readied yourself. Choso's eyes fluttered softly as he nodded, his eyelids already feeling heavy even without touching you. Choso let out a noise of surprise when you pressed your lips against his. His thighs twitched ever so slightly with the need to press his legs together, but you were between them, so he couldn't.

Choso felt his brain turn to mush as you massaged your lips against his, soft barely there sounds getting caught in your throat making him go crazy. Choso never broke the connection even when he released your body in his arms and slowly slid out from behind you, maneuvering your body so you were against the pillows he was just laying against. They were warm with his body heat, feeling welcoming as Choso placed himself between your thighs, on top of you.

Your chest rose and fell heavily as he dragged his large hands up and down your body, your shirt riding up as he played with your sides, touching you everywhere he could. Choso loved kissing, the sensation of his lips intertwining against yours combined with the feel of your body and the sounds you made when you kissed him took over his brain completely, trampling over and pushing out any and all other thoughts.

You wrapped your legs around his waist instinctually, making Choso whine at how good your body felt against him. His hands itched with the need to touch you higher up each time he caressed your torso. Your chest rose and fell heavily against him, your back slightly arching off the bed each time he overpowered his tongue with yours, making you feel dizzy.

Choso was a bit shy when it came to intimate activities, up until he was actively participating in them, then his instincts took over and he became more confident. You and Choso had been dating for a few months and had never gone past heavy petting and kissing, but you would be lying if you said your body didnt ache to go further with him.

You placed your hands on his shoulders and slowly slid them around to his back, grabbing the nape of his neck with one hand while your other disappeared under the collar of the back of his shirt. Choso's eyes rolled back in his sockets at the touch, even though his eyes were closed. He felt that same familiar ache build itself up deep in his stomach, and the position he was in was giving him no relief.

His pelvis was close to being pressed against yours, but it wasn't, leaving his unknowingly throbbing cock to twitch against the confines of his boxers with little to no friction. You lightly raked your nails over the skin of his back, feeling his hard muscles under your hands as the kiss increased in fervor, getting more intense. 

Choso took it upon himself to adjust his position a bit, sliding one of his legs to the side a bit so his pelvis was against the bed and the underside of your thigh. You smiled against Choso's lips, feeling how needy his tongue was getting against yours. You were caught off guard when you felt a strong thigh press firmly against your cunt, making your lips separate from his in an embarrassingly loud whine. 

Choso stopped kissing you to look at your expression, worried he might've hurt you. With furrowed eyebrows and a fucked out expression, you reached both hands between your bodies and pressed them agaisnt his thigh, trying to ignore how hard you were throbbing against his leg. "I'm sorry, are you okay?" Choso gasped, not yet realizing what had happened. 

"Choso, your knee." You whined out breathlessly, pressing against his thigh again, silently begging for him to let up before you lost control. You were already holding back enough. Choso's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he looked between your bodies to see his thigh tightly against your cunt, and your hands pressing above where you were connected. 

Choso immediately pulled his leg back and apologized, slotting his leg back to its original position. You saw the muscles in his jaw bulge out under the weight of his teeth as he looked away in embarrassment, worried he had ruined the mood. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to.. touch you there." Choso apologized, darting his eyes back over to yours every so often.

You wrapped your hands around his neck and pulled him against your shoulder, forcing his head to be buried in the crook of your neck. This abrupt action surprised Choso, he placed his hands on your hips and waited for you to speak, focusing on how loud your heart was beating against him. "No, it's okay. It.. it felt good." You whispered, turning your head against his ear, your lips grazing his skin.

Choso felt that same familiar heat build-up in his tummy again at your confession, it was getting unbearable. This is usually where the two of you stopped when he felt a little too worked up for his own good. But this time, he didn't want to stop, he wanted to see where this would go. "It felt... good?" He questioned, staring at the bedsheets in front of him as he lay on your shoulder.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear that sent a shiver down his spine. "You can put it back if you want." You suggested, making Choso shut his eyes and take a deep breath. He didn't know much about pleasuring others or even himself, but he knew the type of "good" you were talking about was much like the one he felt when he pressed his crotch against the sheets, or your leg when you kissed.

Choso pulled his head up from your shoulder and brought his face agaisnt yours, a hair length away from your lips. You grabbed his face and looked into his eyes for a moment before you pulled him against you by his cheeks, forcing your lips together in a kiss. The kiss was just as needy and hasty as before as the two of you opened your mouth against one another in a sloppy makeout. 

Choso swallowed hard before he started moving his leg again, trying to remember the position he had it in. When you felt his thick thigh press against your throbbing clit again, you gasped into his mouth, a sound he eagerly swallowed up, his face growing redder at the sound.

You felt dizzy as your back arched against him, your hands once again wrapping around his neck for support. You squeezed your legs around his thigh and relished in the feeling of your clit getting stimulated from the pressure alone. Choso could feel he felt something twitch against his leg, but he had no idea what it could be, all he knew was that it made his own problem feel ten times worse.

Choso started kissing you more intensely, his own cock being stimulated against the sheet and the underside of your leg once more. You whimpered into his mouth, your hips twitching agaisnt him, ever so slightly rubbing your cunt against his leg. "This feels really good." Choso gasped into your mouth, feeling the heat in his tummy boil up within him.

You nodded, making a sound of agreement into his mouth. You felt like you were seconds away from cumming, you couldn't believe how aroused you were. Your whole body burned with pleasure and arousal as you sloppily kissed into Choso's mouth, the kiss being more tongue and teeth than anything.

You felt that familiar pressure build up in your abdomen, making your thighs twitch and your body curl against him. Choso increases the pace of his kissing, his lips now moving jerkily and unceremoniously against your thigh. "Choso-" You whined against his lips, both of you now panting and whining into the other's mouth. Choso felt like something was going to happen, and he didn't want to stop, he needed to feel whatever this was leading to.

His fingers dug into your hips as his lips started parting against yours, as did your own against his. Both of your moans and pants grew silent as you gasped against the other's mouth. It was only still for a moment before the two of you came crashing down. Your body shook with pleasure as you came in your panties, your abdomen curling in against Choso and twitching as you orgasmed on his thigh.

Choso's head fell into the crook of your neck as he came, hot spurts of cum being released into his pants. With each rope of cum he released, his hips would cant involuntarily against your own. Choso groaned and gasped against you, his head going numb as sheer, white pleasure wracked through his entire body and overwhelmed all of his senses. 

The two of you gasped and whined heavily as you came down from your highs, fighting to catch your breath and recover. Your bodies were limp against each other, but you still held each other tight, not wanting to separate just yet. "That felt so... so good," Choso whined into your neck, a shiver wracking down his spine. You nodded against his shoulder, raking your hands through his messy hair. "Uh-huh...so good." You replied, equally as fucked out as you nodded dumbly, breathing heavily with Choso's full weight resting against your body.

[meiieiri]

𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: so she tells him not to cry over the injustice of a life cut too short for at the end of all this, she’ll only be a dream.

pairing: ex-husband!toji fushiguro x terminally ill wife!reader | song inspo: soon you’ll get better, cancer

warnings: heavy angst, terminal illness (primary bone cancer, stroke and MS), mentions of divorce/past infidelity, allegories to cheating, major character death. please read at your own risk. | a/n: this was so heavy for me to write, i started writing at 2 in the morning, and it’s 6:34 now.

word count. 3k~

“Why can’t you do anything right?”

Toji should have noticed, he laments as he takes a sip of his cognac. He should have sensed that something was wrong sooner, maybe that way, he wouldn’t be begging to borrow some more time to make things right. Your fingers were trembling that day — the first time you ever ruined his morning coffee — your hands shaking uncontrollably as you washed the mug with a sorrowful look on your face, your eyes glossy with the tears you were desperately trying to hold back.

He shouldn’t have been so harsh, he realizes that now. Breakfast had been burnt to a crisp and ruined, sure, but nothing could compare to how he constantly ruins the one beautiful thing that has ever happened to him, who haphazardly spilled her smoothie on him when they first bumped into each other in Shinjuku just after he finally cashed in enough money with Shiu to get his laundry done.

Toji, whose senses have now been honed to pick up on the slightest of your sluggish movements and your pained and suppressed hisses, hears the bedsheets rustling and he instantly gets up before you could even force yourself out of bed. “Hey, hey, easy now.” He catches you before you could fall backwards onto the mattress, your skin appears cold and clammy, your thinning muscles stiff as a board — you must be having one of your episodes again. “What do you need?” he asks, his voice heartbreakingly gentle for the first time in months.

“Water.”

Your husband nods, swinging his feet over the edge of the bed, hurriedly making his way to the dining table which was now kept in your bedroom so you aren’t forced to move around too much. The sound of water splashing into the glass fills the air and you feel another stabbing pain coarse through your joints.

Toji gingerly brings the glass of water to your lips and you sighed, an exasperated yet amused smile on your face. “I can do it, babe. Don’t worry.” Why did that sound like you were trying to convince not just Toji but yourself? You bring your bony hands to grip the glass and it takes everything out of your husband not to break into a fit of sobs when he sees your hand violently shaking with effort just to keep the glass steady.

His larger hands close around your defeated one. “I-I…I can do it, I did it yesterday. Y-you saw me.”

“Shhh, I know, it’s okay.”

You bite your lip to distract yourself from the anguish of realizing the truth behind the doctor’s words. Everything you feared was finally becoming your and Toji’s bleak reality.

“It’ll be a painful decline.”

Funny how you’re the one fighting to extend your life but Toji feels like he’s already gone ahead and passed on. Just a few minutes earlier, you were overjoyed to see him again. You didn’t think he’d see your text thinking that his new girlfriend must have asked him to block your number, and you most certainly didn’t expect him to arrive when you asked for him via a brief phone call to drive you to the hospital for your monthly checkup since he took the car with him when you separated. He made up a bullshit excuse when Yuko asked where he was going in such a hurry and he makes it to your old shared apartment to see you sitting on the driveway looking thinner and sicklier than ever — your eyes were sunken, and your cheeks were hollow.

Yet in spite of that, you gave him the brightest of smiles, waving shyly to him as he steps out of the driver’s seat. “Happy morning!” you smiled, greeting him with your signature good morning tagline which he used to happily wake up to everyday. There wasn’t a scintilla of resentfulness in your demeanor, and you genuinely looked so happy to see him for the first time since he moved out.

“How long?” Toji asked the doctor, his heart twisted into knots when he hears you happily humming in the MRI room as you put your clothes back on, oblivious to the solemn mood in the other room. You already knew what was going on, but you’ll just continue pretending that everything’s alright and that this is nothing more but a case of fatigue so as not to inconvenience Toji.

“A year, maybe even less.”

“And…you’re saying it’s best if she simply…doesn’t get the treatment?”

The doctor sighs heavily. She’s seen many cases like this before, but none as utterly hopeless as yours. Even if you did start the treatment, the lesions in your spinal cord have already entered the most severe stage, you were already exhibiting signs of autonomic nervous system distress — the tremors, the uncontrollable stuttering of your words, the growing loss of balance — and as if that wasn’t enough, the doctor also discovers that you were suffering from primary osteosarcoma.

There was no way to cure you now that it’s too late.

“I suggest we just focus on keeping her comfortable. The only thing left for us to do now is to bring her home. I’m so sorry.”

“You’re so fucking embarrassing. I can’t bring you anywhere.”

By some miracle, you and Toji went out one night around four months before the divorce proceedings. He went home that day, exhausted beyond all belief from another mission, but he was in a good mood. Yuko was out working late tonight, so, he decides to take you out to your and his favorite izakaya for some yakitori.

Some time during the night, after downing three full bottles of sake together, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. “I’ll be right back,” you told Toji, tipsily kissing him on the cheek as you hop off the bar stool in the direction of the women’s room.

You couldn’t tell if you were staggering from the copious amounts of alcohol you ingested, but your legs were beginning to feel heavy, and for some ominous reason, you were slowly losing all sensation in your left leg. You try to hold onto one of the izakaya’s shōji panel decor pieces to regain your balance, but it was a futile effort in the end. Your knees suddenly buckle, and a sickening crack tears through your tibia as you fall to the ground.

“Are you alright?!”

Toji picks up on the commotion instantly and he sees the izakaya patrons crowding around the hallway leading to the restroom. He quickly makes his way over and a look of disgust appears on his features when he sees you crumpled on the ground and the mortifying sight of you having relieved yourself on the floor, tears of embarrassment staining your cheeks at the thought of your body suddenly malfunctioning like this.

Muttering out an ignorant apology for his seemingly drunk wife, he roughly picks you up, growing increasingly infuriated with you when one izakaya employee offers him a damp cloth to dry out your urine with. It was funny how quickly other people came to your aid — people whose names you don’t even know — while your own husband seems very reluctant to even touch you right now. He doesn’t speak to you on the way home even as you apologize while he’s loading you into the car, grimacing when the leather seat gets wet. “Toji, I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened—“

“—Save it.”

What he should have said was: “Are you okay?”, “It’s alright.” or better yet, “I still love you.”.

At present, Toji decides on a whim to take you to Yokohama’s famed bayside today. It’s only a two hour drive from your place in Tokyo and Toji figures you must miss going on road trips by now with you cooped up at home all the time. “Toji, are you sure this is a good idea?” you murmured nervously as the car pulls to a stop by the bayside promenade. What happens if you can’t control yourself again? There doesn’t look to be a lot of public restrooms nearby.

Toji plants a reassuring kiss to your nose. “Babe, you remember what the doctor said, spending some time outdoors can do wonders for your health. Besides, didn’t you always love the coast?” He brings your hand to his scarred lips, rubbing his thumb against the soft skin before stepping out of the car to retrieve your wheelchair from the trunk.

“I know but what if I have another accident?” you said worriedly, rolling down the car windows so he could hear you. “What if I embarrass you again?”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about you.”

You’ve lost all control of your lower extremities three months ago, rendering you unable to walk and feel when you need to relieve yourself. Toji struggles with the wheelchair for a bit and a flash of sadness fills your heart when you see him take a few deep breaths to calm himself down. He wasn’t angry, he was devastated. He looks wistfully at the boardwalk, a distant gaze trained on the sea. He remembers when you used to walk down this very lane, his hand protectively around your waist as you happily take selfies. He could still hear your fond giggles the last time the two of you went here.

“Why don’t you ever smile when I take pictures of you?”

Toji shoos away a pigeon from stealing a bite of his ice cream sandwich. He feigns an unamused look when you try to take another picture of him on your phone.

“Come on, I’ve been trying to get a shot of you all day! You still have to take pictures of me so I can post it on my Instagram feed!”

Your ever moody husband pinches off a small piece of bread and feeds it to the nosy pigeon. “You and your precious feed,” he bemoans jokingly.

“Please? Just one picture!“ you playfully nudged him. Truthfully, you just wanted to see him smile for once, a genuine one and not one of those lopsided smirks he usually gives you when he’s teasing you. “Please?” you pout knowing he can never say no to that adorable face you make when you really want him to do something or worse, buy something for you.

Sighing, he turns to look at your phone’s camera lens and you blush when a smile slowly illuminates his usually stoic face. Your thumb hovers over the stop recording function, not realizing you’re taking a video, but you can’t seem to press it. “What’s taking so long?” he holds the smile like he’s some cartoon character and you snap out of it.

“Oh shoot, it’s a video!” you laughed, and you begin to run down the boardwalk, eagerly getting away from Toji who demands that you delete it immediately. Of course, you’re no match for his borderline inhuman speed attributed to his athletic physique and he catches you by the waist, playfully swinging you over his shoulder like you’re a sack of potatoes.

Now, your giggles have gone silent.

Toji realizes now he should have indulged you more over the course of your relationship and subsequent marriage. Had he known that you won’t even make it to your third wedding anniversary, he would have allowed you to take as many pictures and videos of him as you’d like, he’d swallow his pride and he’d give you the brightest of smiles so you could happily post him on your social media accounts with a heartwarming caption about him being your “smiley hubby”.

More than that though, he should have taken more photos of you, mostly stolen candid shots, of course. You can’t catch him being all soft on you now. He still has a reputation to live up to after all. But more than that, had he known that your illness was intent on stealing every scrap of you from him, he should have made more effort in preserving all these memories. He should have kept everything from those toll tickets on your late night drives together when the two of you just needed a quick escape from the world, to receipts from your trip to Tokyo Disney Sea on your first wedding anniversary, and even simple convenience store receipts.

Toji should have kept everything down to the smallest of memories knowing one day, that’s all he’ll have to remember you by.

He opens the passenger seat’s door and he effortlessly gathers you into his arms, being extra careful with your fragile form as he sits you down on the wheelchair. He opens the backseat and he pulls out two different colored blankets, one sea-foam green and the other, rose pink. “Take your pick,” he smiles at you and you chuckled softly, pointing to the rose pink one. He happily covers your legs with it to keep you warm, stroking your cheek when you whisper a bashful ‘thank you’.

Suddenly, the wind picks up and your hair-clip that’s holding your locks in a low bun comes loose, and your head turns in the direction of where it flew off to. Toji is quick to take out his phone and he snaps a quick burst shot of you, your hair blowing in the wind, under the coastal spring weather. You turn to look at him and your face falls when you see him burying his phone in his pocket. Since you fell ill, you’ve become insecure of your appearance, banning your husband from taking pictures and videos of you altogether. “Toji, I thought I said no pictures.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The next day, you serendipitously find your photo on your Instagram handle with the caption: “Y/N — Yokohama, Spring, 2024” and when you swipe left, another picture, well to be more accurate, a screenshot of the video clip you accidentally took of him captioned: “Toji — Yokohama, Summer, 2022”.

“You don’t have to stick around for me. Please just go, I’m sure Yuko must be looking for you right now.”

Yuko, his new fiancé, had been blowing up his phone the entire day with texts demanding to know where he is and if he’s going to make it to their date that night. It’s 7 PM now, and Toji still hasn’t shown up to confirm their restaurant reservations. The damn witch will surely cuss him out when they see each other again, but for some reason, even if he tries, he simply cannot bring himself to give a flying fuck. Your immunologist and oncologist stepped out for a bit to allow you two a brief moment of privacy which had now stretched to an expanse of five hours since your results came in.

The air in the room is thick and heavy, not a single sound can be heard. Inside however, underneath this tough exterior he was projecting, Toji is throwing a fit, screaming at the sky like those broken men in those shitty Netflix romance tragedies he used to callously make fun of.

“Why didn’t you call me sooner? You knew, didn’t you?”

Toji’s bites his cheek trying to keep a lid on his emotions. He knows the answer. He just wants to hear you say it out loud. You hated him. You wanted nothing to do with him after he cheated on you with some girl he met at a bar in uptown Shibuya. That’s why you didn’t tell him, he didn’t deserve to know. “Shit,” he whispers harshly, crumpling the medical abstract in his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? Was it because you hated me? Is that it? You didn’t think I’d worry about you?”

You screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. You didn’t hate him, not even when you have every reason to. He abandoned you, left you to waste away and to die and yet, even now, you can’t bring yourself to resent him for the simple reason that he is the literal love of your life, the reason behind your smiles, your happy mornings and passionate midnight hours. “At first, I thought I was fine, maybe just fatigued or something.”

“Don’t lie. You knew something was going on and that something in your body was seriously fucked up.”

“And we weren’t married anymore so, I didn’t think it was right to tell you…I wanted to though, but I didn’t want to intrude on you and Yuko,” you said meekly. Even in your greatest hour of need, you were still thinking of him, putting him first even when he doesn’t deserve it. “I-I…I don’t hate you enough to worry you, to make you feel that you could have done something to prevent this. Because I’m telling you right now, regardless if you were faithful or not, I was bound to get sick anyway. You couldn’t have done anything to change that.”

“But I could have been there. I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have downplayed everything.” He says this as if he wants to shake this noble, self-sacrificing bullshit attitude out of your system. “I’m your husband. I should have been there.”

You flash him a heartbroken smile at his little slip-up, so, even now, he was still referring to himself as your husband, not your ex-husband. “To see me waste away? Babe, I don’t want you to see that.”

You begin to feel tears streaming down your face, the emotions you were experiencing now flowing like a free river after an entire dam is destroyed. Toji watches you unravel before his eyes and his bottom lip begins to tremble. What has he done? Dear god, what has he done to his poor, poor wife?

“I want you to remember me healthy, I want you to remember me as myself not this…sickly pitiful woman you’re unlucky to call your ex-wife…besides, after all this, I’ll only be a dream.” A mere passing second in his life. “And believe me, my life wasn’t so bad.”

He loses it at that.

“Just stop this, Y/N! Stop acting like you’re not scared shitless of dying, like you’re not gonna have regrets once all this is over! Stop pretending that things are gonna be alright one day because it won’t! Not when I’m now being forced to accept that you won’t get better, not when I’ve wasted so much time putting you through hell and back instead of taking care of you like a proper husband should, and certainly not when I’m suddenly supposed to learn to say goodbye and to live without you! Because fuck that, Y/N!”

You are left speechless at that.

Toji was never one to lose his cool, even during your worst arguments, he may slide a few snarky remarks here and there but Toji Fushiguro…never yells, and he doesn’t sob either.

You hesitantly stand up and walk over to him, crouching down in front of him as he covers his tear-stained eyes with his right hand while the other is crumpled around your medical abstract. Taking his left hand, you gently remove the medical abstract from his grip, and for the first time in so many months, you feel one another’s warm skin against each other. You press your forehead to his hand as you wept with him.

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be a dream. I want you to be real.”

“Can’t you be bothered to clean up in here?!”

You wake up from your nap, you’ve been battling muscle and joint pain the entire day, the slightest of movement causing you to double over in agony and because of that, you weren’t able to clean the apartment today. You slowly get up from the couch, being extra cautious not to make any sudden movements. “Well?” Toji presses, his lips curled into a scowl.

“I’m sorry, I was feeling a little tired,” you sighed heavily, picking up a broom to sweep the living room floor despite the excruciating pain you were in. Toji rolls his eyes, handing you a Manila envelope. “What’s this?” you asked softly, peering inside.

“Divorce papers,” he shrugs nonchalantly. Everything stops, even the very rise and fall of your chest halts into an uneasy stasis. “I already signed them. I just need your signature then, I’ll move out by tomorrow.”

You must be dreaming. That’s the only logical explanation to all this. You’re asleep, in a deep REM sleep, utterly oblivious to the world. This wasn’t happening. But you could feel the rough surface of the brown envelope, and you could still feel the agonizing stabs of white hot pain throughout your body. Glancing at Toji, you see him texting someone with an eager look on his face that screams: “I’m free.”.

Instantly, it dawns on you.

“Will she make you happy?” you asked, putting down the broom to look around for a pen but Toji pulls one he stole from the law firm office out of his pocket.

“She will,” he answers simply.

And you are indeed grateful that he is completely upfront about finding another while the two of you are married. It would have hurt much more, you silently remind yourself, if he had just upped and left without another word leaving you to wonder what went wrong between the two of you. This was Toji’s final act of mercy in your marriage, and he’s not opposed to honesty and truthfulness either. Not once did he try to change his phone’s lock-screen passcode, nor did he try to conceal the identity of the woman who was texting him every night while you slept fitfully next to him. It was almost as if he wanted you to find out, like he wanted you to know so you could back off yourself.

But if there’s one thing Toji loves about you, it’s your unending faithfulness to your promises, to your marriage vows, and your willingness to endure anything he threw at you. You never checked his phone, you never brought up his affair, you never got angry with him. You just kept silent, simply content with giving and giving…and giving while he milked you dry by taking, and taking and taking, tearing you to pieces bit by bit without hearing a single complaint fall from your lips.

You were a devoted wife, through and through.

And it bored the hell out of him, on top of your recent mishaps, he was done. Done with everything, and done with you.

“Okay.”

Come morning, he takes everything he owns with him and promptly proposes to the girl he’s been seeing for the past year. Two weeks later, your divorce is received by the Tokyo Family Court and is summarily approved and finalized. From that moment on, you and Toji went on your separate ways never to look back, you were each other’s yesterdays, and the love that existed between the two of you was nullified in favor of acquaintanceship…or so you thought.

“Y/N, I’m home!” Toji calls into the house as he comes back from your neighborhood’s pharmacy. You look up from the book you were reading, smiling ever so slightly at your husband who seemed to have a wonderful sparkle in his eyes. “Hey, kid,” he kisses the top of your head when he reaches your wheelchair.

“You seem happy,” you remarked positively.

“Well, for one, they replenished their stocks today and I managed to get you your steroids and painkillers so you’ll be able to sleep easy tonight,” Toji smiles, taking out the items from the pharmacy’s paper bag. “And I got you this neat memory foam cushion for your wheelchair.” He fluffs it up as a form of demonstration before placing it behind your back.

When he sees you smile, a sense of relief washes over Toji. You reach towards him, and he pulls you into an embrace. “Thank you,” you said, pure sincerity dripping from your voice. “For everything you do.”

“Anything for you.” He suddenly moves back and reaches into the tote bag you lended him. “Oh, and wait, before I forget, I have another surprise.”

You laughed airily. “Another surprise? Now, you’re just spoiling me!”

He pulls out a piece of paper from the tote bag and he places it in your hands as your eyes quickly scan over the document. Your breath hitches in your throat when you realize what it is. Did Toji really—? You couldn’t believe it. “A marriage pre-registration,” you said in awe. You read it again just in case to make sure that this wasn’t a figment of your sick body’s imagination, that this was real, that Toji genuinely wants to make everything right again. Your fingers skim over your typewritten names. “It has our names…we’re really—“ You can’t even finish your sentence without bursting into happy tears. “Are we—?”

Toji nods, gazing into your eyes, and as emerald and (E/C) clash for what seems to be an eternity lost in one another, he plants a kiss to your temple, coming up to embrace you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“We are. The Tokyo Family Court, as far as I know, will approve our remarriage once we file this. So, you have to get stronger, okay?” He’s begging you at this point, despite your rapidly deteriorating condition. “Strong enough to see me fix everything. Strong enough to be there on our second wedding, strong enough to say our vows again.”

Your hand comes up to stroke his cheek from behind, and he nuzzles into your neck at your tender touch.

“I will. I promise.”

But you never really get to say your vows. Not comprehensibly anyway.

“Babe, can you say that again?”

Toji crouches by your bedside as you look at him apologetically. You were causing him trouble and pain again which is the last thing that you want to give him especially when’s fought and worked so hard to care for you, to keep prolonging this borrowed time you’re on. “To-ji. Toji.” You gaze at him apprehensibly, not really believing you can do it without crumbling.

“Come on, babe, you can do it. Say my name, please…Toji. I’m Toji.”

“Toooji-“ you slurred sadly. At this point, your Multiple Sclerosis has reached its end stage and has taken…everything from you: your ability to walk, your ability to control your muscle spasms and other bodily functions…and now, coupled with an unexpected stroke, your ability to speak. And you and Toji know that time is almost up, with you having come to accept it, while your husband still held onto hope. Your fingers gently graze over his face as best as your spasms and tremors allow you, starting from his forehead to his eyes, his nose, his cheek and finally, his lips, as if you’re memorizing it one last time. “Lo-ove you-“

Toji sniffles, and your fingers instinctively catch his warm tears. “I love you,” he whispers brokenly. “I do. I love you.”

You feel yourself tearing up as you’re forced to watch your beloved cry. And the worst part? You can’t do a thing about it. “D-oon’t c-cry—‘m okaay. Promi-miise…e’everyything ‘ill be okaaay.”

“Y-yeah,” he chuckles, trying to crack a joke even as hope dwindles. “You’ve been nothing but a fucking champ this entire time, you know? I’m so proud of you. So…so…proud that you’re still here.” He strokes your hair as you tread between the realms of the conscious and the unconscious. “Do you wanna go out today? The weather’s shit though. You’ll probably catch your death out there.” At the mention of the word ‘death’, Toji stops, falling into an uncomfortable silence.

You smile weakly at him. “Tiiredd—“

“You’re no fun,” Toji gently flicks your nose and you scrunch it up in displeasure. “Sorry,” he chuckles, holding back an entire waterfall of tears. He knows it’s today. It has to be. You woke up today without your usual ‘happy morning’ greeting, and you refused to drink anything, much less eat anything. “You tired? Any pain?”

You shake your head. You’re as comfortable as you can be for the first time in months. Hospice nurses say humans are built to live the same way they are built to die, no person in this world has ever had the uncanny privilege of being able to look up ‘How to die?’ on a quick Google search and actually find a Wikihow on the morbid subject matter, nor is there anyone else who can teach another how it’s done. It’s just something humans know how to do without a manual, deeply ingrained in the very fabric of human existence is the fear of death, the fear of what comes after, the fear of a nothingness that could follow after living such a vibrant life. Your life was short, barely spanning thirty years, but you lived well: you fell in love, you got hurt, but you fell together again. Now it all has to come to an end, Toji will just have to take care of the rest.

And you weren’t scared.

Or at least you can’t look scared, if you were to be more accurate, you have to look strong and ready to accept the cards you’ve been dealt with for Toji’s sake. When he feels your hand start to slacken, Toji intakes a sharp, shaky breath of sheer panic. “Not yet, Y/N. Please. Not yet.”

He climbs into bed with you, bringing you closer to this desperate man you call yours. There was no getting better anymore, there was no miracle he could hang onto, no deity he could beg for death to spare you, no pill bottle he could pray to. He knew that from the start. But what he witnessed these past months, you’ve been the braver one between the two of you, you knew how to make the most of the rhythm this cruel world gave you and you graciously took him along to dance to the last song of the evening with you.

“There’s still hope. Just keep your eyes open. Just keep them open.” He presses his lips to your forehead, his delusion getting the better of him. “We’ll just keep trying…you can’t leave. You have to stay. You have to.”

“Thaank yoou—“ you softly told your Toji, your voice shrinking in decibels as you become a little drowsy, sinking into the warmth of the requiem of a life well spent.

Toji listens to you, his lips pursed, intent on making this final act of love — a love that is strong enough to say goodbye — a memorable one. And should the afterlife exist, he wishes to send you off with a smile, with the reassurance that he’ll be alright even if that was far from happening.

“Toji.”

“I want you to be real. And I don’t care if we’ll live on borrowed time. Another extra second with you…is enough to last me my entire lifetime.”

[honeydewandcake]

“Shrimpo, you’re pathetic”

This was based on the note found in Shrimpo’s room! I have so many theories and speculations on everything in his room it’s actually making me go crazy

Read more if you want to listen to my insane ramblings!! ↓

So I have so many things to talk about —

Firstly, the punching bags and holes in the walls. Shrimpo’s hatred towards everyone is always usually verbally, but in his room there’s proof that it’s physically too. This leads me to believe a lot of things:

— Shrimpo is somewhat strong, at least strong enough to break through the walls.

— Shrimpo tries to at least control his anger. He could easily beat someone but he limits himself by only being a verbal bully. He must relieve all his more aggressive emotions in private in his room.

— The wardrobe in his room is partially blocking holes he presumably made. This could either mean that he is embarrassed or he’s trying to hide it to avoid getting in trouble.

Overall, it’s clear that Shrimpo’s anger is a lot more than people might have expected

Secondly, the papers. There’s plenty of other toons that also have crumpled paper in their rooms but to me Shrimpo is the most interesting. Shrimpo is definitely not the type who writes, but the note and trash says otherwise. A few things I immediately think of is:

— Shrimpo can write, but everything he writes is always deemed “not good enough” by him and thrown away.

— Shrimpo is either willingly writing things or being forced to write by others (possibly as a required thing by directors and such).

— The note on his desk can tell a lot about him. The fact that he only writes about the things he hates is expected, but the way it continues is more interesting. He repeatedly writes “hate” over and over and it gets bigger. To me, this looks like Shrimpo having a mental breakdown. It’s not uncommon for someone who’s venting out their frustrations to repeat a phrase or word, but the fact that it gets bigger makes me think Shrimpo is writing it more desperately. He could have been writing to relieve stress but it only made him more frustrated, causing a slippery slope into a terrible episode. If this was in writing and not text, I expect his note to be sloppier than it seems.

— Shrimpo’s discarded paper can mean anything, but the thing I immediately think of is ideas or failed writing. Someone in a server I’m in brought up the idea that the reason why Shrimpo has only posters of himself in his room is because he’s reminding himself of all his flaws. Maybe his writing helps him cope with that or he’s trying to come up with ideas of how to be better.

Shrimpo’s room also has many knocked over furniture. He has multiple desks, traffic cones, trash cans, and a coat hanger.

— This supports my theory that Shrimpo is a lot more aggressive in private. He knocks over furniture out of frustration, imagine someone flipping a table because they got upset at something.

— Shrimpo’s room could have been a storage room. It seems to be more bland (could just be Shrimpo not liking decorating) and it has a lot of useless things. Really, the only thing that makes sense for a room is the desk, wardrobe, and bed.

— A confusing thing to me is the airhorns in his room. Shrimpo could be using these or they just came with the room. If he did use them, it would probably be on other toons as a “screw you” signal.

Sorry I talked so much, usually I don’t like doing this but I needed to yap for a good 5 minutes about my favorite toon. I love you Shrimpo!! No one could make me dislike you!! I will make many, many more theories for you. . . .

[luviisabella]

“You got your hair done ?” his biceps leaned against the door frame, he was just admiring as you sat in your chair staring into the vanity.

“Mhm” you softly smile as you brush your eyebrows before looking for your lip pencil.

There was a moment of silence, it was just him in awe of you. There was nothing Bakugou loved more than when you got your hair done. Braids, locs, trying new wigs too, all of it, he loved it.

This time you had knotless goddess braids, butt length, and God was he losing it watching the way the braids sat so pretty against your melanin skin in that tight black dress. Every part of you he needed and craved.

You smiled seeing how your lip gloss came out, you placed your products away neatly before getting your and pushing your chair in and grabbing your hand bag.

“Leaving ?” You could hear the desperation in his voice, the want to hear you say “no I can stay”

—

“You know I have to, it’s Mina’s birthday and she invited me, she’s also my best friend.”

You gently slipped your feet into your heels before stepping into them and standing to get a feel.

“We probably won’t be out long either since Kirishima had a little ‘gift’ for her later” you smirked knowing exactly what he meant.

Bakugou groaned.

You walked over to him and placed your hand on his chest before cupping his face with your hand and giving him a kiss to his right cheek. Your lip gloss leaving a tinted stain that you knew he wouldn’t mind.

You look up at him and softly smile

“Promise to come back as soon as I can so I can cuddle you and give you all my attention.”

He huffed and looked away, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

You stepped beside him and began walking out of the door before pausing and turning back, seeing him take a couple steps to you before pausing and taking in your figure.

“If you’re still up I can give you my own little gift too.”

He smirked at the idea he was getting and you were implying.

“Oh yeah ?”

“Mhm”

You turned back towards him and smiled, he was going to walk towards you until you placed your hand up as if you were signaling him to stop.

“By the way..”

You slightly lifted up your dress, enough for him to raise his eyebrows in surprise.

“Im going commando.”

(Mina didn’t even bother questioning the fresh hickey on your chest when you arrived THIRTY minutes late)

—

Got the idea from a friends episode with Rachel and Ross.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Since you've mentioned Scarlet Lady in one of your posts, what's your opinion on it?

I've mentioned before that I'm a big Scarlet Lady fan, which is the only reason that I'm comfortable answering asks like this one. I don't publicly criticize the content of hobby creators. That's wildly inappropriate! Punch up, not down.

The linked post was a general discussion of the adaptation process and how @zoe-oneesama did a fantastic job, so for this one, I'm just going to do some general gushing because I do actually like praising and enjoying things!

Scarlet Lady's chosen format (comic) allows it to have this wonderful conversation with canon where it can rely on the framework of canon to tell it's own story while also using canon for jokes and meta commentary. This means that Scarlet Lady is about as close as fan content can get to a direct reboot because it's able to have moments like this one from the comic's first post:

[Image description: Adrien standing in his room after transforming into Chat Noir for the first time. He is beaming and his eyes are shining with excitement as he exclaims, "This is gonna be awesome!"]

A single picture that communicates everything we need to know about Adrien getting his miraculous. When I've done this same thing in fanfic, I had to write out the full scene because that's how novels work. You have to give the full picture. With a comic, you can just quickly acknowledge this thing that we all already know and then move on to the new stuff. A picture really is worth a thousand words! (Or, in my case, more like two thousand...)

This allows Zoe to keep the same akumas that we get in canon without her story feeling like a boring rehash because she can focus on what's different in her version. A novelization of the same content would have to show both the stuff that stays the same and the stuff that changes for it to be coherent. That's a lot less fun to read and write. It's why I basically never revisit canon akumas in my own stuff. It's just too derivative for the written word.

This is one of the big reasons that I loved Scarlet Lady. Because it was able to have that more directly conversation with canon, it was able to take canon and say, "hey, why don't we embrace the tone that you established in season one and retell the story with that vibe?" That's something that I desperately wanted to see, but that is totally unsuited to my chosen artistic form. It couldn't be a novel. It had to be a comic.

If you want to know what a true formula show version of Miraculous would look like, Scarlet Lady is it. It does everything that Miraculous should have done:

Sticks to a lighthearted tone where nothing is ever super serious

Keeps Gabriel entirely unsympathetic

Has slow character development and background hints at a bigger plot as the only serial elements, allowing the individual episodes to be their own story while never feeling incomplete or rushed

Allows characters other than Marinette to shine while keeping Marinette as the clear main character

Makes Adrien narratively important

MAKES THE LOVE SQUARE CUTE SO I CAN ACTUALLY SHIP IT

Understands that Lila and Chloe can't coexist as antagonists

Reverses the love square, which is the best way to tell their story. Yes, I will die on my "love diamond" hill. It's a good hill. Come join me. I'll bring cookies.

I could keep going, but you hopefully get my point. While Scarlet Lady is certainly not the only way to do a formula version of canon, it's proof that a formula version does work! You don't have to go the serious route for Miraculous to be successful.

I want to take some time to gush about the ending, but I don't want to spoil it, so I'll put that gushing under a "read more" in case anyone hasn't seen it. I'll finish out this less spoilerish section with this:

I feel like some people are surprised when they learn that I love Scarlet Lady because - as some of you have probably picked up - it is quite different from my ideal version of canon. I'm not sure why that would stop me from enjoying a thing, though. It's important to remember that our personal ideals are not the only way to tell a good story. There are lots of ways to take what canon gave us and make something wonderful! It's part of the reason that I enjoy being in a fandom.

If I only wanted to see my ideal take on canon, then I'd stick to writing/imagining my own stories. But I don't want that! I like seeing alternate takes, too. Scarlet Lady is one of my personal favorites. It's completely different from anything that I'd ever think to write and that's why I'm so glad that it exists! I like being entertained just as much as I like creating my own entertainment and I don't want to only read stories that look like something I'd write. That's boring!

Spoilers below:

I've mentioned before that there are many, many ways to properly handle Chloe's character and Zoe did such a good job with her take on that! Chloe isn't absolved of all the things she did wrong, but she's also treated as a young woman with the ability to change.

While the comic bares the name of Chloe's alter ego, she was the never the main character. She never went on a journey. The story kept her to her shallow season-one self: a petty brat who just wanted attention. It did this because that's who Chloe was in canon and who Chloe needed to be for the comic to work.

The first time we see any complexity from Chloe is in the comic's final few episodes, which was absolutely the right call for Zoe to make! In a recent post, I talked about how the end of a formula show is the only time when you can break the formula in catastrophic ways and that's what Zoe did. She kept Chloe static until it was time to end the story and that's when the formula breaks. That's when Chloe gets depth because, once she has depth, the formula doesn't work.

That depth is not used to redeem Chloe, but to show us that there's hope for Chloe. That this petty brat who we've been dealing with has some serious issues and needs help. Help that she's going to get far away from the people that she's hurt because her issues aren't an excuse for what she's done. They don't erase the harm that she caused. At the same time, understanding her issues makes us hope that she can be better now and Scarlet Lady took a moment to give us that hope. To show us the START of Chloe's true story.

That is the kind of ending that I have wanted to see in so many properties!!! It was so wonderful to finally get one that did this right. A story that understood that full redemption to the team and damnation to death/suffering are extremes on a scale of possibilities. You don't have to go to extremes! You can fall in the middle and the middle is a perfect, natural place for Chloe to land in this kind of story. Fully redeeming or even fully damning Chloe simply doesn't work in lighthearted formula content. It's too big a lift as canon has already demonstrated.

I also loved Zoe's take on Emilie. I've mentioned that I don't like evil Emilie in part because it makes her revival feel like the start of a new story. She's back and she'd bad, so we have to take her down now! But I don't want that. I want the story to end when Gabriel is stopped. Zoe does this by giving us an Emilie that is another perfect middle ground. She matches canon's uncomfortable implications without feeling like a true villain who is a threat to society.

[gffa]

"When you lose everything, you're finally free." is an absolutely perfect line, because it's nonsense with everything else Qimir tries to lure Osha with in this episode. He plays on how she feels like she loves people too much, like oh she loves people and that makes her a bad Jedi (never mind that Jedi have always said that loving people is a good thing), she loves people who will never love her back, implying that if she became a Sith she could love people all she wants, she could be with people who love her back the way she wants them to love her back. But then follows it up with losing everything is freedom, which means having no connections to anyone is freedom to him, having no one to care about is freedom to him, having no one to love is freedom to him, and, yeah, that's the Sith philosophy right there. You say that you'll be able to love people, except you hurt all those you love because that's what the dark side does. You live on fear and anger and hate, you try to clutch onto them so tightly that you break them and yourself, you lose them because you refuse to ever let go, that's the message of Star Wars, that you need to be able to let go when the moment comes, you can't own someone, you can't live and die based on that love consuming you. The Sith philosophy is saying, come to the dark side, you'll be free. But that freedom is a freedom from everything, it's a freedom that has nothing, no one to love, no one to share things with, to only ever desperately crave more and more and more, but nothing is ever enough, nothing ever satisfies. It sounds alluring because the freedom to do "whatever you want to do" sounds great--right up until you don't owe anything to anyone and thus they don't owe anything to you and suddenly you have nothing. But, hey, you're free right? Man, no thanks to that.

[no-144444]

farm girl- o.piastri

summary: what's a better way to a guys attention than shouting at him for being too slow?

pairing: oscar piastri x fem! clarkson farm, farm-hand!! reader

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You weren’t the biggest fan of Jeremy’s reality show, but you enjoyed working the farm, so, as per your agreement, you wouldn’t be featured in episodes as much as possible. You were so far removed in fact, that you didn’t even know that someone else was driving the tractor when you shouted for them to ‘stop being shit’ at driving it. 

“Y/n!” Jeremy shouted. “Stop being rude!”

“What?” you scoffed. “I swear to god, if Finn doesn’t fucking speed up I’m going to-” you started, but stopped yourself when you saw none other than Oscar fucking Piastri in the driver’s seat with an embarrassed and guilty smile on his face. “Sorry,” you offered, internally cursing yourself. “Continue on!” you announced before turning back and continuing on with more of your duties. 

Oscar looked after you as you walked, an amused smile on his face. “Who’s that?”

“Y/n, one of our farmers,” Jeremy explained, a chuckle on his lips. “She’s… fiery.”

“She’s damn good at her job!” someone from off-camera chimed in, making everyone chuckle. 

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As his day went on, he caught glimpses of you. You were tending to animals, or showing someone around, or just generally being beautiful and mysterious. He was desperate to know more. He asked a million questions about you, and he was sure everyone was aware of his not-so-secret crush on you.

“You should ask her out, she likes F1,” Jeremy advised as they sat down to lunch. “You’re one of her favourite drivers.”

He still got surprised when people knew him, forgetting sometimes that he is, in fact, a public figure. “Yeah?”

Jeremy laughed. “Yeah,”  he scoffed. “Kids these days…”

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅

When his day of hard labour came to an end, he made it his plan to seek you out, humoring Jeremy’s theory. 

“Hi,” he smiled, standing just behind you. 

You startled, jumping up from whatever it was that you were doing and cursed. “Fucking hell! Announce yourself!” You let it slip before you could really stop yourself, but you didn’t feel all that bad, he should have announced himself. 

He laughed. “What did you think I was trying to do?!”

“Scare the shit out of me?” you scoffed. “I don’t know.”

“I’m Oscar,” he held out his hand to be shaken. “Nice to meet you.”

You took his hand,shaking it quickly. “Y/n. Sorry about the whole…  tractor thing.”

“Nothing but a bruised ego,” he chuckled. “So what do you do around here?”

You shrugged. “A bit of everything, I guess.”

He nodded, and you both stood in silence for a minute. 

“Did you need something?” you questioned. “-Not to be rude, or anything, I just… I've got to get back to the rest of my stuff so… yeah.”

He smiled, enjoying the fact that you were as awkward as him. “Can I get your number?”

You stared at him for a second, then you broke out into one of the most beautiful smiles he’d ever seen. “Why?”

He stepped closer to you. “I think you’re really pretty,” he explained. “And I want to get to know you more.” 

You nodded. “Give me your phone.”

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[pizzabookbuying]

gosh I’m a LITTLE heartbroken