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#Oh I still have that band shirt
vegaseatsass · 2 months
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DFF 11 spoilers
I still refuse with all my heart to believe that Non is dead, but in the version of events where this is true - so the version of events Tee believes is true - Tee "rescued" Non by delivering him into labor that killed him, like he watched Non work himself to death before his eyes, but first, his response to Non's life-threatening wounds, the idk, potential internal bleeding, whatever is going on in Non's body that has him so run down he can't yell at his bully without nearly collapsing from coughing, was to. Hand Non a first aid kit and be like "you know what to do, right?"
lmaoooooo TEE. A whole mess of a young man.
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muirneach · 1 year
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also i hate what tiktok has done to alt. ppl r like ‘yeah i dress alt’ and it’s like well the way u ppl talk this could easily mean at least 7 different subcultures. most of it is diet punk or diet emo. sometimes a mix. but i think at this point it really just means ‘not basic tm’ ie the general small shirt big pants look that is in. anyways i wish they would have a sense of subculture and community like a normal person. and to stop disparaging the good name of alternative music and fashion
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rosesradio · 7 months
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#i’m kind of really heartbroken right now#so i had tickets to the hot freaks concert and went tonight—which i don’t mind posting on here because i live several hours away#so basically i drove to the venue for several hours and stopped like once for food#it was my understanding that windsor was opening and then the hot freaks and then the happy fits i guess but i didn’t know the exact times#we were running a bit late bc of the road trip and walked in at 7:25 (the show started at 7) and i got to see the tail end of ‘boyfriend’#& i was like ‘oh okay i just missed their first song’ but then they walked off stage and my heart dropped. i missed everything#and yeah it’s on me because i must have had a misunderstanding about how the show worked#i’d never even heard of a show where an act performs for 20-25 minutes unless it’s like a variety show or something#i did cry about it already and just tried to have a good rest of the night since we’d already driven for hours#i got to meet the band at the merch table which was really cool and they gave me a free signed CD & sticker & friendship bracelet because—#they felt bad for me. which was very sweet (i also bought a shirt)#i know i should be grateful i was even able to go to the concert. and i still had fun but part of me will always be heartbroken#because financially/geographically it’s not smart to go to another show even further away just to see a 25 minute set when i’ve already got#the merch & all. plus i can listen to them on Spotify#i can only hope they come to a location closer to where i live#but there’s no guarantee because they’re so underground. they only resurfaced because of stupid tiktok & they’re only popular enough to be—#half of an opening act. so they could potentially never go on tour again#if i had more of a platform i would boost their music more but i don’t#i know it’ll be okay. it’s just a lot of things have been going shitty lately and i thought this would make me feel better and it just—#went to shit#tw vent#rose.txt
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orcelito · 2 years
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I unpacked A Box. I'm trying out this new thing called unpacking One Box per day. So that I can finally get all this shit unpacked. I moved here a YEAR ago and im only making an effort to unpack now.
It happens.
#speculation nation#IT WAS THE STORAGE I DIDNT HAVE THE STORAGE FOR UNPACKING#i yell as if i didnt have plenty of space for clothes in my dressors that went unused lmao#i unpacked a box of tshirts and jeans today that's been sitting in my room for at Least 9 months#yesterday my headache made me not wanna unpack BUT the day before i unpacked the box with all my pocket knives in it#at this point most of my boxes left r clothes. tho i do have a box of assorted electronics (mostly my wii & wii games)#and a box of kitchen stuff. and a box with some random closet shit.#Not normal clothes tho. my kenma cosplay is in there (i know bc tally dragged that wig out SEVERAL times)#almost definitely cant fit into those shorts anymore bc they were tight on me at 17 and my hips have Definitely grown#but i could maybe wear the jersey 🤔🤔🤔🤔🤔 i still love him so like Maybe#me unpacking my tshirts was like 'oh i forgot i had a p4 shirt! oh i forgot i had an evangelion shirt! oh i forgot i had-'#i have a p4 shirt. evangalion. 2 kingdom hearts. 2 legend of zelda (1 of which is botw specifically)#uhhh theres also flcl. AND also some band tshirts#found my one ok rock tshirt!!!! cant believe i went to a concert in 2017 & only really became a fan AFTER in 2021#it's a cool fuckin shirt tho. i also saw set it off in that concert as the opener. which i had Zero idea who they were then lol#oh i also have a bob ross tshirt. AND a gay cat tshirt. as in 'proud owner of a gay cat'. also some cat theme shirts that are gay.#uhm i have a lot of tshirts i have and barely wear bc i only wear my uniform shirts when going out lol#but at least i remember they exist!!! and they r easily accessible again. Yes.
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area51-escapee · 2 months
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Sometimes it really hurts to remember that time my mom more or less stated her and my dad were embarrassed to be seen with me but what makes it better is knowing I’ve only gotten more embarrassing as I’ve gotten older
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puppykento · 1 month
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whipped - husband!nanami x fem!reader [drabble]
a/n: my first time writing nanami purely bcs every time i think about him i start shaking violently
cw: 18+ content, domestic fluff, soft, counter sex, he bites you once
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You're sitting next to the sink on the bathroom counter, your wedding band placed next to you as you lather your hands up in shaving foam. You rub it onto Kento's lower face and throat, covering every inch of skin that tends to sprout prickly, blonde stubble. His large hands are resting on your waist as he stands between your legs, your thighs squeezing his hips.
"You're giving me that look again, Ken." You say with a small smile, rinsing off your hands in the water-filled sink before grabbing his razor, gently gliding it along his face, being careful to catch all the hairs without pulling on his skin.
"What look, angel?" He replies, his eyes locked onto your face as you shave him, fondness overtaking his gaze. That look is the exact one you mean, the one where he acts as if you hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. Like you're the only girl he's ever seen. You shake your head softly at his words, clearing the razor from the foam and hair that's built up before gliding it along his skin once more.
"You're whipped." You tease, a cheeky smile coming to your face as you drag the razor through the foam once more. With a wet cloth, you clean the left over shaving cream from his face, running your fingers along the skin to make sure it's smooth before gripping his chin lightly, tilting his head up to expose the sensitive flesh of his throat. The movement makes him grunt, and you can feel his cock filling out against your thigh.
"Mhm. My wife is so beautiful. Any man with sense would be whipped." He breathes out, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallows down the lump in his throat from being so close to you, his grip on your waist tightening until his hands have bunched up the fabric of your shirt.
"Ah, is that so?" You reply, letting out a breathy laugh as you put the razor down, rinsing off any last traces of hair or shaving foam from your husbands face before patting his skin dry with a towel. He nods, leaning down to press a kiss to your jawline, trailing them down your neck before he sucks a mark into the skin right above your shirt collar.
"It's a fact, dear. You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid my eyes on." He murmurs between kisses, raising your shirt before pulling it off, pulling back to do the same to his own shirt. He lets out a soft whimper as your fingers trail over his toned stomach, his muscles tensing at your touch.
"Need you, pretty girl." He whispers against your skin, his cock twitching against your thigh and rock hard. You'd only been wearing his shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties. He slips his pyjama pants down along with his boxers - just enough to free his erection. His breath hitches as the cold air hits his arousal heated skin, his hands shifting to grip your thighs and spread them, his fingers digging in slightly. You shiver at the cold of his wedding ring against your flushed skin, letting your head thump back against the wall.
"I'm all yours, Kento." You reply softly, your eyelids slightly hooded as you watch him slip the fabric of your panties to the side, his free hand gripping the base of his cock before he slides forward, a low moan spilling from your lips as he presses into your entrance inch by inch. He pulls you more towards the edge of the bathroom counter so he can reach deeper, the head of his dick meeting your cervix as he buries himself to the hilt inside of your tight heat.
"Oh, fuck, baby... she's soaked." He moans, his brows pinching together as he stays still for a moment, taking in how your walls squeeze his length, sucking him in. He'd never leave if he could help it. He reaches down to gather some of your slick and use it to rub small circles into your clit. "This all for me?"
All you can do is nod, gasping as his thumb rubs your swollen bud. His hips start to rock into you gently, his head hanging back as pleasure overtakes him, low groans and sounds of pleasure leaving him. Strands of blonde hair hang lose as he picks up the pace of his thrusts, dangling in front of his eyes as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips.
"Pretty pussy made just for me..." His words are punctuated by a particularly rough thrust, his cock bumping against your sweet spot just as he brushes his thumb against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps, your orgasm rushing through you as you clench around your husband's dick.
"Shit." He grunts as he feels you cum, your arousal coating him. His movements grow more sloppy, his cock barely leaving you before he's burying it deep inside of you once more, his mouth hanging open as his on orgasm builds inside of him. "Mmph... my wife's milkin' my dick so well."
His head drops into the crook of your neck as he cums, biting down on your skin gently as he snaps his hips forward, shooting ribbons of white into your cunt. His teeth release your flesh after a moment and he presses a tender kiss to the bite. He pulls away and gives you a sweet smile, his hands moving to your hips as his thumbs gently stroke your skin.
"I love you so much, Ken..." You say softly, leaning forward to press your forehead against his, your arms coming up to loop around his neck.
"I love you even more, my angel."
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
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Geto Suguru
TW: noncon/dubcon, bullying, harassment
fem reader
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Thinking about bully Suguru and how he’s not like other bullies…
How sweet he is with you – all gentle smiles and soft-spoken words pressed against your skin in wet kisses when he tells you how much he adores you.
How he holds you tenderly by the wrist, taking you with him wherever he needs to be as though you’re some type of assistant who needs to stay glued to his side.
How he seats you on his lap in front of everyone in class while waiting for the professor to arrive, or at lunch, or during breaks and free periods – brazenly nuzzling your neck with ever-so-soft lovebites, licking the marks to soothe them afterward.
How, when you try to avoid him, he hooks two slender fingers under the band of your skirt, pulling you between him and the lockers with an arm placed above you, leaning over you until the hallway lights all seem snuffed out. His palm is splayed over the entirety of the small of your back, playing with the soft skin before diving further until he’s fingering the frill of your panties – making your breath short.
He’s still got that smile on his face as he looks down at you, cooing, “Come on~ don’t be like that~ you don’t want me to embarrass you in front of all our peers, do you?”
Your hands, placed flat on his chest, now curling his white shirt in small trembling fists – bowing your head away from his dark leer with a quivering pout on your lips.
The words are stuck so deep in your throat – they only come out when his fingers dive beneath the silk band they’d been playing with. “N-not here – please, Suguru…”
“Oh? You know of a better place?” He suggests, brushing his lips down your temple until tickling your ear with his breath.
You whimper, “I have class…”
To which he just chuckles. “I’m sure you can skip it.” Whispering hotly, “After all, I have a much more important lesson to teach you.”
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redsray · 2 months
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Batkids playing any kind of board game but make it extra competitive because whoever wins gets to choose what Bruce wears for the next gala.
Bruce, in a sparkly top and skinny jeans:
Reporter: Ah, who chose your outfit tonight, Brucie?
Bruce: That'd be my eldest, dear!
Dick, behind him, full into the gala persona: Flattering, isn't it? He should wear it more often, don't you think, sweetheart?
Reporter, flushed: Oh, absolutely.
Bruce (to Dick): Get a new fashion style. Please.
Dick: Never.
Reporter: Who would be responsible for your wardrobe tonight, Brucie? It's certainly a statement.
Bruce, head to toe in a pink suit and Hello Kitty accessories: Gorgeous, isn't it? All the credit will have to be given to Jason, though, I'm afraid.
Reporter: Your second son, if I'm not mistaken?
Bruce: The very one.
Jason from across the gala hall, trying to not cough up his drink with laughter:
Tim, next to him: He's pulling it off, though. Little spins and everything.
Jason: Still ridiculous. That's Batman right there, Timbo.
Tim, snickering: The Dark Knight, huh?
Bruce, dressed in a collared white shirt, sweater and skirt, looking like he just came out of a light academia novel:
Reporter: Wow, Brucie. Who do we thank for that wonderful outfit choice?
Bruce: Ah, flattering, is it not? Tim's choices when it comes to fashion are wonderful, if not a bit simple.
Tim, nodding from behind him: Only the finest satin skirts. Charming, right?
Tim, to Bruce: Don't call my style simple, Mr. all I wear is black.
[Jason handing Dick $10 in the background because Bruce does, in fact, pull off a skirt.]
Reporter: Oh lord, what a gown! Who influenced your fashion choice tonight, Brucie?
Bruce, in a long green and black gown with gold accessories, nothing short of royal-looking: I fear only one person I know could choose an outfit as gorgeous as this one.
Damian, proudly next to him, in a smaller, matching gown: Only the most exquisite. You lot in this flimsy country cannot compare.
Bruce: Yes, Damian has a fine taste in fashion. He gets it from his mother.
Damian, quieter: Well certainly not from you.
Bruce, dressed in an elegant white dress shirt, long black pants and a corset with red accessories, a fan in his right hand:
Reporter: What an entrance! Anyone to give credit to for the wardrobe, Brucie?
Bruce: That'd be my daughter, she certainly shines with her choice of clothing.
Cass, grinning with a matching fan: Very pretty.
Bruce: Thank you, Cass.
Reporter: Woah, that's certainly new. Any reason for this choice of clothes, Brucie, dear?
Bruce, in a snapback cap, loose jeans and a band t-shirt, complete with rings and a chain around his neck: Well, all of my children are creative, but... Duke might just take the cake for this one, love.
Duke, losing his absolute shit next to Jason, Dick and Tim: You look great, B.
Steph doesn't usually go to galas, but she participates in the game nevertheless. If she wins, god help Bruce, because it's a gamble with her. He either ends up wearing a gorgeous outfit with eccentric and trend-setting accessories or literal checkered pyjamas. Worst yet, he has to say he picked it himself, since he can't directly blame Steph.
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clubkira · 6 months
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DEAR FUTURE HUSBAND .ᐟ
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oh future husband, better love me right!
premise. the nhk gives it’s viewers a peak into the love lives of the jnt’s lineup, interviewing the future wives of the jnt to crack the secret to a happy relationship ❤︎
content. haikyu!! jnt / f!reader. (atsumu miya, rintarou suna, wakatoshi ushijima & shoyo hinata). fluff. somewhat decent relationship advice. downbad fiancés. healthy relationships(!!). suggestive moments. petnames.
soundtrack. dear future husband : meghan trainor.
part two can be read here.
dear future husband m.list. // hq. masterlist.
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ATSUMU MIYA.
“after every fight, just apologize.”
“Relationship advice?” You repeat, sitting across from the NHK interviewer, mic strapped to your shirt as a camera filmed your living room. She nods, smiling while holding a microphone of her own.
“Yes! Tell us, what is the secret to a healthy relationship?”
You tilt your head, “Well, I guess I have some advice to give.” Your fingers drum against the armrest of your couch as you sit in thought, contemplating on what to tell the reporter, “hmm..”
Atsumu sitting beside you laughs, his arm slung comfortably over your shoulder, “I have some advice I’d like to give as well.”
You turn to him with a grimace. “I don’t want any young viewers following whatever is about to come out of your mouth, ‘Tsumu.”
He looks at you offended; reeling his arm back to his side, shock spelled out all over his face. “Excuse me, I’m great at romance. I romanced you, didn’t I?”
“Unfortunately,” you jest, with Atsumu exclaiming in protest, “But this isn’t just about romancing someone, ‘Tsumu. They’re asking what makes a relationship a healthy one.”
“So?” He shrugs, “A healthy relationship is one that’s full of romance.”
“I apologize for him,” you playfully tell the interviewer, ignoring the look Atsumu gives you in response, “He’s not the best at this sorta stuff.”
She merely giggles, “No worries, the players are allowed to give their own opinions as well.” Atsumu puffs his chest out, “See, babe? She said I can talk too.”
“Yeah well, just make sure to cut out whatever he says in the final broadcast,” She lets out a snort at your jab, hiding the smile that creeps onto her face behind her microphone while Atsumu shoves your shoulder in despair.
“Awe, c’mon! I’m not that bad with relationship advice!” He pouts at you, looking like a kicked puppy when he does so, “What makes you think I’m so bad at this, do you actually want to marry me, babe?”
Your eyes soften at his saddened tone, feeling slightly guilty you link your fingers with his, eyes full of love when he smiles down at your intertwined hands.
“Of course I do, ‘Tsumu.”
The camera crew awes as you turn back to face the cameras, still holding Atsumu’s hand firmly in your own, running your thumb over the smooth cut diamond ring studded band he wears on his ring finger.
“The advice I have to give viewers is; Apologize when you are wrong,” you tell the interviewer, “No matter your pride, no amount will replace your relationship. It’s never worth sacrificing your loved one just for the sake of winning an argument.”
“Uh huh, you’re one to talk about that, babe,” Atsumu rolls his neck, “You never apologize first, it’s always me who has to for you to talk to me again.”
“What are you talking about?” You look at him confused, “I’m the one who initiates the apology conversations, you’re the stubborn one out of us.”
“Nuh-uh.”
You groan, “Exactly.”
Atsumu pulls his hand out of yours, placing it on your thigh instead before facing the cameras. “But, she is right. Do not ever choose a winning an argument over your partner. It ends badly.”
“You would know,” you snort, “You give me the longest silent treatments until I coax you out of it with kisses.”
“Can we cut that out of the broadcast, please?”
You purse your lips to hide the oncoming smile until Atsumu leans forward, a handsome grin on his face as he looks directly into the rolling cameras with a newfound confidence.
“But, y’know. I do always apologize in the end, ‘cause my girl’s never wrong.”
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RINTAROU SUNA.
“make time for her.”
“You see this girl?” Suna jabs a thumb in your direction from across the kitchen, leaning against the marble island lazily as the camera team nods. “Yeah, she gets constipated if I don’t give her enough attention.”
Your head perks up immediately as you shoot him a halfhearted glare, “Do not.”
“See, she’s doing it right now.” He ignores, drinking from his glass of water before setting it down on the counter, ignoring the little gasp you let out at his actions.
Rolling your eyes, you smack his arm before sliding a coaster under his drink, “Don’t scratch the marble, Rinnie. I just bought this island.”
The camera team silently giggles at the short interactions between you two, with Suna sticking his tongue out at you and in response you give him a middle finger before he turns back to face them, “Can you believe her?”
Scoffing, you enter the camera frame beside him, “Don’t bring them into this, Rinnie.”
“Don’t tell me what to do.”
“I’m your fiancée.”
Suna opens his mouth to argue before shutting it promptly, “Good point.”
One of the crew members holds a sign from behind the cameras, indicating to get the interview back on topic. “Why would you ever ask her for relationship advice?” Suna chuckles, “I was the one who made the first move.”
“The interview is for the fiancée’s of the JNT, Mr. Suna,” the interviewer reminds him, “But the players are welcome to voice their own opinions as well.”
Suna stretches his arm behind his back with a yawn, a sliver of his abdomen peeking out from underneath his home shirt before disappearing quickly, “Well in that case, allow me to voice this opinion—”
You slap a hand over his mouth before he can begin, “Nope, didn’t you hear them? This is my interview, Rinnie.”
“Buhf dey shaid I can shpeak too, affhole." Suna glares from behind your hand, removing it from his mouth with a groan. “Did you even wash your hand? Tastes gross.”
“Why did you lick my hand?”
“We’ve done freakier things than that and that’s what you’re worried about?”
Your words get lodged in your throat, sputtering out hurriedly, “This is going on T.V, Rinnie!”
He looks to you with a smug smile, “Yeah, and I can’t wait to rewatch this interview and see your reaction again later.”
Your fists clench momentarily before taking a deep breath, relaxing yourself and facing the cameras with a smile. “Anyways, some relationship advice I’d give to anyone watching; make time for your spouse.”
Suna nods along to your words, “Mhm, I think that’s the most important thing in a relationship.”
“Shut up, Rinnie.”
“Ouch,” he fakes a stab through his heart, monotonous eyes but a playful grin on his lips. “I talk for two seconds and you tell your dear fiancé to shut up?”
You shake your head towards him jokingly, continuing to talk to the interviewer, “A healthy relationship means you spend time with your loved ones, and your spouse should be the most loved person in your life.”
The reporter nods, “I see, I see, what do you suggest to our viewers the best ways to spend quality time with their lover?”
“In bed.” Suna chimes in immediately, earning another smack on the shoulder from you. “What?” He looks at you with a knowing grin, “Oh, you— I didn’t mean like that, oh my god you’re sooo dirty minded.”
He chuckles, “I meant like cuddling, laying in bed together, watching movies. Y’know, wholesome things.”
“Nothing is wholesome with you,” you exasperate, speaking from personal experience. “But yes, those are great ways to spend times with your lover. They’re good times to bond with them, or just relax and unwind after a long day.”
“Yeah, after a gruelling day of practice, it’s nice to come home and lay in her arms,” Suna motions to you before leaning his head on your shoulder, his grin now replaced with a small but gentle smile. “She’s all I want to see after practice.”
“Wow,” you tease, leaning your head atop his, “and where did you learn to be so smooth, hm? Are you just playing it up for the cameras, Rinnie?”
Suna snickers, hands crossed over his chest relaxed, “I would never,” he says before mumbling close to your ear.
“I just, really like to spend time with you.”
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WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA.
“treat her like a lady.”
“My fiancé is out right now at the gym,” you inform the NHK station crew, their camera men follow you inside your house for the opening shots of the broadcast. “Make yourselves comfortable while you wait.”
The interviewer settles himself on a seat at your dining table as you reach for the vase of flowers atop, moving into the kitchen to pour the old water out of their vase, careful to not spill any over your kitchen counter as you refill the container with fresh water from your tap.
Refreshing the water, you carefully place the flowers back into their vase before rearranging them neatly, coming back out of the kitchen to place them back on your table and adjusting them accordingly as the interviewer watches amazed.
“Those flowers are very lovely,” he notes softly, almost as if any louder of a volume would disturb the plants, “Did you fiancé happen to get them for you?”
You smile, “yes, he did,” recalling the first time he got you a bouquet, on your first date many years ago.
“‘Toshi knows I love flowers.”
The soft click of the lock to your house causes you to perk your head up in familiarity, the frame of your fiancé’s figure coming into view as you see him placing his shoes down beside your door before coming inside.
“Welcome home, dear,” you call out to him from the kitchen, one of the camera crew’s members break off to film your fiancé as he enters the home. He drops his gym bag to the floor beside your couch, removing his jacket and hanging it on your coatrack before passing through the halls of your shared home to get to you.
Ushijima shuffles his way into the kitchen, passing by the camera crew and approaching you from behind, hugging you as his hands are wrap around your stomach, head dropping into the crook of your shoulder.
You lean into his touch, his freshly showered hair smells of the shampoo the two of you use.
“Are you showing them the flowers I got you?” He asks, eying the pretty arrangement of flowers on the table. The cameras zoom in to take a closer shot at the flowers, noting the vibrancy of the colours and the lack of thorns adorning the stems.
You and the reporter nod, Ushijima lets a small smile settle on his face. “She told me they were her favourites,” he tells the reporter.
“Hm,” he hums before turning to you, microphone extending outwards. “is that your relationship advice for the viewers then? Giving your loved one gifts?”
You shake your head quickly, “Oh, no! No, that’s not my advice— Of course, do get your partner gifts if you know they’ll enjoy them.” Ushijima straightens up, hands snaking around your waist to stand beside you as the cameras pan out to record the both of you in the same shot.
“‘Toshi just really likes to get me little things,” you smile, reminicing on all the times your eyes barely glazed over something in a store front before he was scrambling inside the shop to buy it for you, despite your pleas.
“But gifts do not have to be expensive,” You reassure the viewers again, “just little trinkets that remind you of your partner will be enough.”
Ushijima nods before lifting your hand up to the camera, showing off the engagement ring with a large diamond displayed proudly atop it. “Yes, but I do like to splurge when it comes to her.”
You retract your hand quickly, warily eying your fiancé, “‘Toshi! Don’t make the viewers think they need to buy people’s happiness with expensive gifts!”
His head tilts unsurely, “My love, do you not like the ring I got you?”
“I-I do! When did I ever say I didn’t?”
His eyes crinkle slightly in concern, “Then why are you hiding our engagement ring from the viewers?”
“Because,” you sigh, “I don’t want young, inexperienced lovers to think they need something like a huge, flashy engagement ring to be loved by someone.”
“But you deserve the best,” he rebuffs, “There is nothing I wouldn’t buy for you if you asked.”
“‘Toshi.. this isn’t really helping our case…”
The reporter turns to Ushijima, “Even though this is a special for the JNT fiancées, the players are allowed to give their own insight.” He informs your soon-to-be husband, “Do you have anything else to add for our viewers?”
Ushijima thinks for a moment, silent in thought as you look to your fiancé, and the sight of his matching engagement ring twinkling under the bright studio lights filling your home catches your eye all too quickly.
“Do you have anything you want to say, ‘Toshi?” You nudge his shoulder slightly when he continues to remain quiet, an encouraging smile on your lips.
He nods, bringing the hand with your ring on it before giving the intricately cut diamond a kiss, his piercing eyes gazing deep into yours, causing your face to heat up fervently at his wolfish grin.
“Treat your partner the best that you can, like the lady she is and deserves to be treated as.”
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SHOYO HINATA.
“don’t forget your anniversaries!”
Shoyo’s leg bounces feverishly as the reporter speaks to you casually, unable to contain his excitement at being asked to join you for this broadcasted interview special.
His grin is wide, beaming whenever you sneak small glances at him whenever the reporter looks down at their cue cards of start up questions to ease into the conversation, before the real topic is brought up.
“Do you have any relationship advice for our viewers?”
You’re about to speak until Shoyo interrupts you, quite literally flying out of his seat while brightly smiling as his hand grasps yours with a tight grip, “I do, I do!”
The reporter chortles, smiling at his tactics, “Thank you, Mr. Hinata. But this interview is specifically for your fiancée.” Shoyo’s face sullens lightly until he speaks again, “But you’re allowed to give your own thoughts when she’s done.”
Shoyo slumps back into his seat dejectedly as you rub his back comfortingly, “Sorry, Sho. But just let me speak first, okay?” His pout is replaced instantaneously at your words with the usual smile he holds when around you, “Alright, baby!”
You look towards the reporter, hand still clasped in Shoyo’s securely. “Here is my advice for a healthy relationship; Don’t forget your anniversaries.”
Your fiancé’s mouth hangs open in shock at your words, head whipping to face you with a hearty laugh, “That’s what I was going to say!”
The look of shock that spreads across your face amuses him, staring at you expectantly for a few moments before you too erupt into laughter, shoulders shaking in surprise as the two of you cling to each other for support, with Shoyo nearly falling off the couch with how hard he cackles.
He clings onto your shoulder to stop himself from tumbling, which in turn causes you to laugh harder as you try to pull him back up as Shoyo calls out for you to ‘save him’.
“Baby, I’m falling!” Shoyo shrieks while howling with laughter, “Grab my hand!”
“You’re already grabbing my hand, Sho!”
Cameras stationed around your living room pan to zoom in on Shoyo’s joyful face when he fools around with you, the grip he still holds on your hand as clear as day as you jokingly attempt to rescue his bumbling self.
The out of frame reporter looks to the two of you happily, the fact that you both seem so absorbed in each other and have forgotten about the interview portion of the broadcast is surprisingly heartwarming for both the crew and the viewers watching the broadcast.
Once the two of you manage to calm down, you shyly look back to the NHK crew with a timid smile.
“Sorry,” you apologize to your interviewer, coughing as you try to hold back another bout of laughter when you catch Shoyo smiling at you again, attempting to contain his giggles. “We got a little- uhm, carried away.”
“It’s no problem,” the reporter chuckles, “I can see the two of you are very much in love, so is that the advice you wish to tell our viewers on how your relationship with each other is so healthy?”
You and Shoyo nod simultaneously, “Yeah, don’t you ever forget your partner’s anniversaries!!” Shoyo sternly but playfully warns the viewers, “I’m serious, guys! Anniversaries are important!”
“What anniversaries should our viewers be aware of when it comes to their lovers?”
This time you speak up, “Well, the major and most well known ones of course,” you begin, listing off the ones you can recall at the moment.
“For example; first month together, first year spent as a couple, birthdays could also count I suppose—”
“Did you know I proposed to her on our fifth anniversary?” Shoyo interrupts excitedly, the same happy and bright smile on his face shining when he proudly pulls up his hand to show off the ring on his finger, “I was so caught up in the moment, I forgot to put the ring on her finger after she accepted!”
Recalling that memory brings warmth to your cheeks, “Yeah, he literally forgot about the ring in the box until I asked him about it later.”
“But in any case,” you circle back to original topic at hand, noticing the way Shoyo’s smile dampens a little when you switch back so quickly as you shoot him an apologetic smile, you don’t want to waste the reporter’s and NHK crew’s time any longer.
“Don’t forget your anniversaries, people! They’re a big deal for a ton of lovers!”
“Th-that’s right!” Shoyo piggybacks off your response, “And if you do forget, you better apologize a lot!”
The reporter nods, turning their attention to your fiancé. “And do you have any final thoughts for our viewers on how you maintain a healthy relationship with your fiancée, Mr. Hinata?”
Shoyo smiles deviously at the open ended question he’s been dying to answer this whole time; his hand creeping teasingly up your thigh to the small of your back as he leans in real close to you with a knowing wink, the flushed expression displayed on your face at his actions encourages him even more to continue.
His eyes glint with amusement, the mischievous grin on his lips is firm even in front of several strangers and cameras rolling in real time, footage of his behaviour being broadcasted to the entirety of Japan this very second.
And without shame or guilt, Shoyo smirks.
“Make your anniversary nights real special for her, trust me on that one.”
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reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
© property of shoyostar / thomae 2023. all rights reserved.
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moechies · 8 days
Text
sugu breaking your fever 〜(ゝ。∂)
“how d’ya feel pretty?”
“still feel like shit.”
you whine into his chest, the warm compress that once laid on your tummy is held in place by the man.
“y’know.. i heard that orgasms break fevers.”
“what? can’t be, s-stop it.”
“mm what’s the harm in trying?”
“c-cus i’m sick sugu! don’t wanna get you sick too. s-s okay, i’ll get better so—“ your quieted by a cough, followed by the man pressing the glass of water towards your lips.
“doesn’t seem likely pretty. c’mon, let me finger you at least, hm?”
“y-you’re so weird, sugu.”
“that means yes, right?” he slithers atop of you, looking down with a sly grin that you can’t help but flush at. he presses kisses to your hot skin, whining when he nips at your sensitive neck.
“s-sugu, ‘s hot.”
“hmm.. air conditionings on gorgeous..” he teases.
he lifts your shirt, releasing your tits, giving them a light grope. you whine at the sensation of his cold hand pressing against your hot flesh, a slight buck in your hips that yearns for more.
“don’t rush, pretty. we have all day.”
he leans in between your thighs, slim fingers that come to toy with the band of your panties. he presses a harsh kiss to your sticky clit, twitching from the attention.
“needy girl.” he snickers, whistling when he pulls the crotch of your panties to the side. he watches your feverent cunt pulse with need, cute clit swollen and aching for more.
“s-sugu, stop staring.!”
in a short attempt to close your thighs, to prove some decency to the perverted man, you’re met with a gentle slap to your inner thigh. you mewl, anticipating more as he drags a gentle finger through your slit.
“mm, say you want it. tell me ya want my fingers inside, honey.”
“s-sugu don’t tease please.. y-you were the one that said you wanted to give it t’me..”
“mhm, know what i said. now tell me, you want it right?”
you huff, but at last you fall into the man’s trap, “yes s-suguru, wan’ it. want you inside, y-your fingers, please.”
“mm, good girl.” he hums against your thigh, a singular digit slipping into your moist cunt.
“s-sugu..!” you moan with surprise.
“see? if you’re good, ya get what you want, right?”
“y-yes..!”
“now take it gorgeous.” he slips another finger along side his first, curling himself against your sweet gummy walls. you flinch at the sensation, every moment he’s inside of you pushes you towards your high.
he comes up to face your ecstatic expression, smothering your hot skin with gentle but sloppy kisses. you flinch at the sensation, body sensitive due to your cold. it’s all so intense, better, even.
“suguru, p-please..!”
“mhm, patient sweet girl.”
“need t’cum, pleasepleaseplease.. daddy..”
“oh? how dirty, baby. thought you were feeling sick. y’asking for more now?” he chuckles.
“mfgh, d-daddy please.. gonna cum..!”
“yeah? want daddy t’make you cum?”
“yesyes, please..!”
and you do, back arching from the intense sensation, your boyfriends fingers covered in a heavy slick; a sight he’s definitely not new to.
“there you go baby. good girl, such a good girl.”
he pulls himself out gently, wrapping his lips around his own digits, sucking your cum off his fingers. the entire time he stares into you, a teasing smirk spread across his expression.
“stop doin’ that sugu.! ‘s gross!” you whine, flustered from the eye contact he forcefully holds.
“taste so sweet baby.” he teases once again.
he unlatches himself with a ‘pop!’ bending over you to press a heavy kiss onto your lips. he can’t help but laugh when you moan into his mouth, overwhelmed.
“sugu.. tired..”
he presses another kiss onto the soft of your cheek, leaving your side to clean you up for bed.
upon cleaning you up, his heart softens at your sleepy expression and soft snores, pressing a final kiss onto your forehead before slipping besides you.
bonus . . ♡
the morning after is so much better. the sunlight beams through the curtains , the blankets laid on top of you two is just warm enough. doubt him all you want , but turns out his dumb little factoid proves to be true !
but of course he didn’t listen , and now he’s caught your cold.. whining and tugging at your sleeve for you to take care of him , to ride his pain away and make him orgasm so that his fever breaks too.
“y’have to return the favor princess.”
“no, you perv!”
“please, you owe me baby.”
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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month
Note
JJK men doing the bicep trend. Their s/o will tie a pink string on their bicep and once they flex it’ll break off!!!
Doing the ribbon around biceps trend with JJK men
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Pairings: Gojo x fem!reader; Nanami x wife!reader; Toji x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader
Word Count: 1,8k
Synopsis: Tying a ribbon around your boo's biceps and watching how they flex it off? Hell yeah.
Notes: not proofread, Sukuna's part is a little short because I wanted to get this out today, I'll have my knee surgery tomorrow so sorry for ignoring your comments and messages, I'll get back to you when life gets a little easier lol, totally love and appreciate your interactions, I hope you have fun with this!
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Gojo Satoru
„Come here babe, I need to show ya something real quick.”
You can’t help but yawn, annoyance dripping from every pore. Oh, your boyfriend is definitely too fit for the fact that it’s still dark outside. What time is it? If he woke you over a strange video he saw on TikTok again…
“Can’t this wait like…4 hours longer?”, you try to resist his urgent wish, shielding your tired eyes from the harsh light of the lamp above.
“I might forget until then. Hey, do you have like a band or something lying around in the bathroom?”
A…band? Your eyes dart towards him, nothing but sheer excitement written on his face. What on earth is Satoru up to now?
“My pink dress has a satin band around the waist I guess”, you mutter.
Maybe this is all he wants. Yes, he just grabs the satin band and goes straight back to sleep-
“Thank you babe!”, he shouts over his shoulder while opening your wardrobe with so much enthusiasm that the door almost falls out of it.
You flinch, rubbing your temple in a desperate attempt to keep yourself together. You love your boyfriend with all your heart, appreciate this childish side of him more than anyone else. But not when you have an important mission tomorrow and had maybe 2 hours of sleep…
“This better be something important, Satoru”, you mumble through your fingers, a sigh escaping your lips.
“Okay babe, ready to see something really big?”
“I swear if you slap your d-“
“Look at me!”
His insisting tone forces you to remove your hand from your face. There he stands, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers paired with a tight black shirt.
And a pink ribbon wrapped around his biceps tightly.
“Now watch.”
With one flex of his veiny biceps, the ribbon opens itself, your pink satin band falling to the floor while he looks at you expectant.
“I have one question”, you begin, eyes still resting on his delicious arm.
“Go ahead babe.”
“How on earth did you tie that ribbon yourself?”
He opens his mouth, nothing but pure outrage written on his face.
“Is this really everything you’re thinking about!? I just gifted you my strong arm!”, he barks overdramatically at you.
“You’re the best present ever”, you purr at your fuming boyfriend, gently stroking his arm when he finally gets back into bed.
“But if you wake me over something like that ever again, I’ll murder you.”
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Nanami Kento
“Why are you looking at me with those eyes, darling?”
You blush immediately, the day dream of that trend you saw earlier on your beloved husband not leaving your mind. Kento with a bow around his strong arm. Kento flexing his arm in front of you, causing the ribbon to open up.
…Just like your legs.
“You’re daydreaming again.”
You force yourself to look up at him only to find out that he’s already looking at you, soft eyes lightened by a spark of curiosity.
“It’s just…I saw that trend online and it kinda…reminded me of you…”, you mutter, embarrassment crawling up your veins.
You’re acting like a horny teenager over a man you call your husband for several years by now. Kento is the epitome of a gentleman, the most elegant male being walking on this earth. How stupid to even consider wrapping a ribbon around his biceps…
“Don’t be embarrassed, (y/n). Tell me what’s on your mind. What exactly is this trend about?”
He puts the paper he was reading aside and wraps his fingers gently around your chin, slowly but surely making you lose your mind. It should be forbidden for a single man to be this captivating. Should you…Just tell him? Your imagination runs wild, breath getting stuck in your throat by the simple thought of him actually doing this…
“Tying a ribbon around your biceps and opening it by tensing your arm”, you blurt out.
His eyes widen just the slightest. Oh no, does he think you’re weird, desperate, pathetic? You should really stop roaming around social media late at night-
“Why not trying it, then? Even though I don’t think I’m strong enough to untie a ribbon with my muscles.”
Wait…Did he really say yes? You blink over and over to make sure he’s not messing with you until he gets up and grabs a roll of ribbon from your cabinet before cutting off more than enough of the black band. Before you fully realize what just happened he takes off his dark blue shirt, naked skin getting exposed to the dim light of the room.
And your merciless gaze.
“Would you mind helping me out? I can’t tie a bow on my own with just one hand, darling.”
You force your mouth to stay closed, keep your palms from getting sweaty. This is your husband, goddamn.
Your husband, wearing nothing but his work pants. Your husband, holding up a black band, waiting for you to wrap it around his strong arm only because you couldn’t stop imagine him doing a stupid internet trend. Out of instinct, you follow the invitation of his stretched-out hand, fingertips pulsating against his firm muscles while you tie a perfect little bow.
Until he flexes his muscles, forcing the band to untie itself in slow motion. His beefy arm, veins threaten to pop open any given minute. How is it possible for a man to be in this shape when relaxed? Your gaze is fixated on his delicious sight in front of you – so focused that you don’t notice his other hand grabbing your chin before it’s too late.
“It seems like you’re enjoying the view”, he comments softly.
“Just because you are the view, Kento”, you clarify with a small smile, allowing him to drag you into his strong arms.
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Toji Fushiguro
“You want me to do what?”
You grab his arm tightly, doe eyes making it hard for none other than Toji Fushiguro to focus. What did you see on the internet again? “Ribbon around bicep”…What the hell?
“I want you to tie a pink ribbon around your bicep and pop it open with your beefy muscles”, you explain briefly.
“Come on babe. Why can’t I just wrap my hand around ya neck instead?”
“Tempting”, you purr, finger gliding over his firm chest delicately slow.
“But you’re the perfect match for that trend. Now sit your ass down and gimme your arm.”
Just before Toji is even able to press his longing lips against yours, you shove him onto the couch and position yourself on top of him, pink ribbon dangling from your fingertips.
“C’mon (y/n)”, he groans, pouting like a little child when you slap the hand that tried to dig into your butt away.
“Hold still. I need to concentrate”, you instruct him.
“Promise we’ll fu-“
“DONE!”, you scream out, the sheer excitement radiating from your voice making him stop mid-sentence.
His eyes follow your gaze, revealing a wonky-looking bow tied around his biceps so firmly that it might burst any minute.
“And now you want me to do what?”, he questions.
It’s hard to keep himself from smiling when you sit in front of him grinning like an idiot. Is that really all it takes? A fucking ribbon wrapped around his biceps? What a strange thing you are.
But still…
You look so breathtakingly gorgeous that he can’t keep up his annoyed façade.
“Flex your muscles babe!”, you instruct him, index finger poking into his biceps.
Fine, he’ll do you the favour. Slowly, he lifts up his arm before popping open the bow with ease, watching the shocked expression on your face.
“That trend was totally made for you, Toji!”, you shriek, your eyes still fixated on his arm.
“Let’s do that again.”
“I know something better.”
All it takes is a swift motion for you to lay underneath him, your hot breath escaping your lips in shock.
“I’m next, babe”, he breathes out.
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Bonus: Sukuna
“Why did I even agree to do this…”, the king of curses mumbles while you’re busy tying another ribbon around his arm.
“Hold still, I’m not done yet.”
“You already tied this one three times, (y/n). I’m getting impatient.”
“Oh, I know you don’t. Deep down you enjoy me caressing your arm”, you reply with a cheeky grin, carefully forming another bow around his fourth arm.
Tying a bow around a single arm already sounding inviting, but the stinging fact that your lover has not only two but four arms to offer for this delicious trend…There was no way in hell for you to resist this opportunity.
“Really deep down”, he grumbles.
“I’m done. Now stand still and don’t move until I say so”, you bark at him while taking a few steps back.
“Watch how you talk to me or I’ll-“
“Shut up Sukuna, your threats don’t work for me. Okay, flex your muscles in three, two, one…”
Out of instinct, he lifts up his four arms and pops open every ribbon you tied so laborious these pasts minutes. Damn, he really feels like an idiot, standing in front of you shirtless with pink ribbons falling from his arms. But that look on your face, the way you clap your hands in sheer excitement, that phone…Wait.
“Did you film this, brat?”
You blink a few times, the smile on your face disappearing as fast as it came.
“Maybe I did”, you reply, quickly turning on your heels and sprinting away.
“Delete that right now!”
“I will watch this every time I go to bed!”
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Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @luwumii @tachiharazsstuff @kentocalls @cheesemachine44 @ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299@busyreader17 @4pgletter @okay-it-is-ivy @iluvtoru @starlightanyaaa
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stevieschrodinger · 7 months
Text
Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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queenimmadolla · 2 months
Text
𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝
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Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.
Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.
a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!
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Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.
  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.
  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 
  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.
  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—
  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 
  She’d been the result of a very similar event.
  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.
  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.
  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.
  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.
  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 
  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 
  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.
  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.
  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 
  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).
  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 
  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.
  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”
  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.
  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.
  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.
  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.
  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”
  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.
  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.
  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 
  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.
  Speaking of making Penny do things…
  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.
  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.
  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.
  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.
  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.
  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”
  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 
  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.
  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.
  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.
  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”
  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.
  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 
  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.
  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.
  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.
  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.
  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.
  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”
“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”
“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”
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divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡
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emo-batboy · 10 months
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Battinson on SNL
Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀
SO
To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”
But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.
Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨
But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.
They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.
So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.
He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?
Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.
It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:
OPENING MONOLOGUE
It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.
To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.
Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”
It’s working. The audience loves it.
Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.
Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.
There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.
Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!
(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)
SKIT #1
Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)
The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀
Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.
Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.
PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”
He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.
PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”
SKIT #2
For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.
It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.
He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.
Yes, he IS sparkly.
Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”
Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.
Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”
Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”
Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.
SKIT #3
The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.
Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another. 
Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.
Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."
Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.
At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”
This time, the mic bit is a bit different.
Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”
Board dings! That was the #1 answer
Brucie Wayne for the win
SKIT #4
Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”
The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…
But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.
Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”
A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…
We hear some generic hero music play…
And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume
(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)
Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”
Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.
Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”
He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”
CLOSING SEGMENT
Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.
Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)
News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”
News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”
News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”
It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!
News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”
And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.
The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.
Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.
THE END
LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D
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deargojou · 2 months
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╔══ஓ๑ 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 ๑ஓ══╗
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∷ 𝙿𝙰𝙸𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶 ⋯ Gojo Satoru x F!Reader
∷ 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝙴𝙽𝚃 ⋯ 2.2K // Fluff. Pet names (baby + angel).
∷ 𝚂𝚄𝙼𝙼𝙰𝚁𝚈 ⋯ He proposed to you in his dream, and when he wakes up, you’re officially his—to his confusion and delight.
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Gojo slowly blinked open his eyes, gradually emerging from the haze of sleep. He became aware of the warm weight pressed against his side and looked down to see you nestled close, head pillowed on his chest as you continued to slumber. A small, content smile pulled at his lips and he brushed his fingers through your hair, careful not to wake you.
As he admired you in repose, he noticed your hand resting over his heart, fingers loosely curled. The morning sunlight streaming in through the curtains caught on something shiny adorning your ring finger—a delicate band topped with a sparkling gemstone.
His brow furrowed slightly. He didn’t remember proposing, yet here you were wearing what could only be an engagement ring. Carefully, trying not to wake you, he lifted your hand to get a better look at the ring. It was a simple but elegant diamond solitaire on a silver band.
Definitely an engagement ring.
Gojo racked his brain, but he couldn’t recall buying it or asking you to marry him.
A feeling of panic started rising within him. How could he have proposed and not remember it? That didn’t make any sense.
He loved you more than anything, of course, he wanted to marry you someday. But he would never forget something so important.
He glanced back down at your sleeping face, now feeling utterly confused. Where did this ring come from? Did you somehow found out about the ring he hid and decided to just wear it? Or was this some kind of prank? None of the possibilities made sense.
Still puzzled, he sighed and softly set your hand back down and pressed a light kiss to your forehead before carefully extracting himself from your embrace.
You mumbled in your sleep and clutched at the spot he had vacated, making him smile fondly. He tucked the blankets more snugly around you before quietly slipping out of the bedroom.
In the kitchen, Gojo busied himself making tea with tons of sugar cubes and breakfast, all the while turning over the mystery of the ring in his mind. The sizzling of smoked beef and the aroma of fresh tea eventually lured you from bed.
You padded into the kitchen dressed in one of his t-shirts and wrapped your arms around him from behind. “Morning,” you murmured, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.
He turned in your embrace and noted the ring still prominently displayed on your finger. “Morning. Sleep well?”
You nodded and smiled up at him. “Like a rock. You?”
“Just fine.” He caresses your cheeks, letting his fingers trail along your jaw. “I couldn’t help but notice your ring this morning.”
“Huh?”
“Where did you get that ring?” he asked.
Your brow furrowed. “What ring?”
Gojo lifted your hand, displaying the diamond ring for you to see.
“Oh…” you finally realize what he’s talking about, softening your eyes as you gaze at the ring. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”
“It certainly is. Now, would you mind reminding me when I gave it to you? My memory is a little fuzzy on the details.”
Your eyes widen in surprise. “You mean… you don’t remember proposing to me?”
He shook his head apologetically and laughed somewhat nervously. “I wish I could say I did. I think I’d remember proposing to you.”
You just stare him for a long moment before you dropped your gaze. “I see,” you said quietly.
Immediately, Gojo tilted your chin back up with a knuckle under your jaw. “Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you, baby. I just… I want to remember something as important as asking you to marry me, and it’s bothering me that I can’t.” He caresses your cheek ever so gently. “Talk to me. Help me fill in the blanks?”
You stare down at the glittering diamond on your finger, a slight pang in your chest at the realization that he doesn’t remember proposing to you. You take a deep breath and offer him a comforting smile.
“It’s okay that you don’t remember,” you say gently. “I know you’ve been so busy with work lately. Honestly, I’m just happy you found a chance to surprise me at all.”
You reach to squeeze his hand, hoping your understanding will reassure him. You know Gojo loves you deeply, his forgetfulness doesn’t change that. Still, you had hoped the moment he asked you to be his wife would be seared into his mind just as indelibly as it is in yours.
Gojo frowns, clearly bothered. “I’m so sorry, baby. I wish I could recall every detail. Asking you to marry me should be the most unforgettable moment of my life.” He brings your hand to his lips, brushing a feather-light kiss over the ring. “You deserve to have a fiancé who cherishes that memory as much as you do.”
You shake your head, touched by his remorse. “You do cherish me, even if the specifics slipped your mind this time. It’s really okay.” You squeeze his hand again. “Now, tell me more about this lovely ring. Did you pick it out yourself?”
You try to steer the conversation to lighter topics, but Gojo remains preoccupied. As you chat over breakfast, his responses are distracted, his gaze drifting frequently to the ring that has become a symbol of his perceived failure.
Later, as you clean up the breakfast dishes, he comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. “I’m taking you out again tonight to recreate our engagement, exactly as it should be remembered,” he murmurs. “I won’t rest until I’ve made this right.”
You turn in his arms and cup his face in your hands. “Satoru, please don’t beat yourself up over this. I already told you, it’s okay.” You search his eyes, trying to convey your sincerity.
He covers your hands with his own and turns his head to kiss your palm. "It’s not okay with me," he says seriously. “You deserve the proposal you’ve always imagined. I want to replace this memory with one we can both cherish.”
“It’s okay, love. Really. You must have been tired when you—” and he doesn’t let you finish your word.
“No excuses,” he interrupts. “Let me make it up to you today.”
Seeing how important this is to him, you nod reluctantly. “Alright. If it will make you feel better.”
His expression softens. “It will. Trust me.” He kisses you tenderly then sends you off to pamper yourself while he makes plans.
Before you can protest, Gojo whisks you back to bed, insisting you relax while he pampers you all day. He brings breakfast on a silver tray—pancakes drizzled in syrup, mixed berries, and sweet tea.
Wrapping you in a plush robe, Gojo ushers you to the room, where he’s arranged for a massage therapist, manicurist, and hairstylist to spend the afternoon primping and relaxing you. Once you’re thoroughly pampered, Gojo presents you with a gift box.
“Just a little something to complement your existing beauty,” Gojo murmurs.
You start to protest the extravagance, but Gojo silences you with a kiss. “No complaints, let me spoil you today.”
He also takes you shopping and encourages you to pick out anything your heart desires, no matter the price.
At dinner, take you to the most exclusive 5-star restaurant in town. The maître d’ promptly escorts you to the best table, overlooking the cityscape.
He orders a bottle of non-alcoholic champagne (since he can’t drink), and you dine on lobster, filet mignon, and decadent desserts. He insists on hand-feeding you chocolate-dipped strawberries, stealing occasional kisses between bites.
Over dessert, he presents you with a beautiful new silver bracelet to complement your ring. He promised again that he would re-propose soon with a memory to cherish.
“You are too much sometimes. How could I repay you?” you sigh, basking in his treatment.
“Just you by my side is more than enough. Oh, maybe some late-night stress release would be nice,” he bites his lower lip with a playful wink.
After a romantic dinner, Gojo takes you back to the beautiful park fountain where he first asked you out. Under the shimmering lights, he drops gracefully to one knee and pours out his heart, confessing his unwavering love and asking you once more for the honor of becoming his wife.
“My beautiful angel, will you do me the extraordinary honor of becoming my wife? I promise to love, cherish, and adore you every moment of every day for the rest of our lives. What do you say, baby?”
Without wasting a second, you answered. The delight on your face when you say yes again makes his heart swell.
This time as he slips the ring onto your finger, unfallen tears make his eyes glossy. He remembers vividly selecting the perfect diamond, picturing how it would look adorning your hand.
He stands and gathers you into his arms. “Thank you for giving me a second chance to get this right,” he murmurs against your hair. “I’ll never forget a single moment of this night for as long as I live.”
You cling to him, your own eyes misty. “I know you won’t,” you whisper.
Gojo tilts your chin up to meet your gaze. “You’re so beautiful, baby… I love you."
He seals that promise with a long, deep kiss under the glow of the fountain, leaving you both breathless.
Once you both pull away, you smile up at him, but then begin to giggle. He looks at you in confusion as your giggles grow into full laughter.
“What’s so funny?” he asks with a perplexed smile.
You take a moment to compose yourself before answering, amusement dancing in your eyes. “The truth is, you didn’t actually forget our proposal.”
“Huh?” He looked more confused than ever. “What do you mean?” he holds your face firmly like he’s searching for an answer behind your laughter.
“You did it in your sleep!”
His eyes widened in surprise. “What? I sleep proposed to you?”
You grin and nod, taking his hands in yours. “Yes! That night, you suddenly shook me awake in bed. Your eyes were closed but you took my hand and started rambling this utterly romantic speech about how much you loved me and wanted us to be together forever. Then you pressed the ring box into my palm and mumbled something adorable like ‘Be mine always?’”
You have to pause as another fit of giggles takes over while he just stares at you, dumbfounded.
“Naturally, I said yes,” you continue, “because awake or asleep, I’ll always accept your proposal. You slipped the ring onto my finger, gave me a sweet kiss, and then promptly rolled over and started snoring!”
Now you’re laughing so hard there are tears in your eyes. Gojo remains frozen for a beat before breaking into laughter too.
“I proposed to you in my sleep? And have no memory of it at all?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Well, that certainly explains my confusion this morning.”
You nod, still grinning. “I realized you must have done it in your sleep, but I didn’t want to say anything at first. I thought your dramatic distress over forgetting was too adorable!”
You dissolve into giggles again. Gojo chuckles and pulls you into his arms. “You find my suffering amusing, do you? You act all sad and pouty when in reality you knew about this?” He tickles your sides playfully, making you squeal.
“How was it being spoiled, hmm?” He showers your face with kisses as he tickles your side. He said that as if he doesn’t spoil you often already.
When your laughter finally subsides, Gojo gazes at you tenderly and brushes a tear from your cheek. “I’m glad one of us will remember the actual proposal, even if I was unconscious about it.”
He pauses before speaking again, “Though now I’m wondering if I should redo it a third time?”
You smile and wrap your arms around his neck. “I think twice is enough, don’t you think? Or do you just want another excuse to propose to me?”
You lean in and kiss him sweetly. Gojo hums against your lips. “You’re right as always. I wouldn’t change a thing about how we got here.”
He holds you close, admiring the ring on your finger. “Well, we’re now officially engaged to be married. That’s all that matters.”
You snuggle into his embrace, heart overflowing with love. “So, tell me, what were you dreaming that night when you proposed to me,” you ask with a giggle, finding the situation weirdly funny.
“Oh!” His eyes widened. “That must have been some dream I had.” He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “I guess my subconscious wanted to make our engagement official before my conscious mind caught up.”
You laugh and hug him tighter. “Clearly your heart knew what it wanted even if your brain didn’t yet.” You pause. “But what made you decide to propose in your dream? We’ve never really talked about marriage.”
Gojo wraps his arms around you. “Honestly? We were on a romantic getaway in my dream. We’d spent the whole day exploring together and I was just overwhelmed by how perfectly happy I felt with you.”
He smiles softly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “I looked over at you watching the sunset, and it just hit me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, making you this happy. I realized at that moment that I couldn’t imagine a future without you as my wife. So dream-me proposed on the spot.”
Your smile at his tender words. You cup his face and kiss him again. “Well, I’m thankful for the dream-you were brave enough to ask before real-you.” You grin playfully and chuckle. “Yeah, you might as well be begging dream-me to re-propose in your sleep.”
You snuggle closer. “Maybe we should just let our dream-selves get married too, so both versions of us can be happy.”
He hums thoughtfully. “Not a bad idea. We could have a double ceremony. One dream wedding and one awake.”
“And I can’t wait to spend forever with you, whether you’re awake or asleep when you ask.”
Gojo laughs and kisses the top of your head. “I promise I’ll stay conscious for the actual wedding ceremony,” he teases.
“We’ll see. Maybe sleepwalking Satoru will surprise me again.”
As he gazes into your eyes, his expression becomes serious. “Mmm, marrying you for real is my dream come true. I can’t wait to call you my wife.”
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upsidedownwithsteve · 3 months
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Best friend steve showing you how to finger yourself but it’s just so goofy and unserious but like soooo hot
18+
(characters are high but all consensual.)
Honestly, if anyone had had to ask, you weren’t sure how you would have explained it. How it started, whose idea it was, how the topic of conversation even came up.
But there had been a joint rolled, some of Eddie’s special strain and then you were a few puffs into a second shared with Steve before your shorts were lost at the bottom of his bed.
You were both giggly about it, eyes half lidded and lazy but that all changed when you’d stripped, the boy’s eyes going a little wide, pupils blown as he looked at all the skin on your bare legs.
Your t-shirt covered you for the most part, a ratty old band shirt that had a hole in the collar and it hung just past your underwear, a pair of stupid pink things with a bow on the front.
Less than sexy. This wasn’t sexy.
It was— it was?
“Like this?” You asked, a little breathless, a little embarrassed, but there was laughter in your throat and you weren’t sure what you were even asking because Steve couldn’t even see what you were doing. “Fuck, this is stupid.”
You were against his pillows, the film forgotten in the background, the bowl of popcorn and gummy worms spilled on the floor. Steve was still at the bottom of the bed, sprawled out on his side as he watched you, the dopey smile on his face turning slack because you had your knees hiked up and your heels pressed to his sheets. Your hand was down the front of your underwear, clumsy fingers searching for something you’d told him didn’t really work for you.
You don’t know why you’d told him that.
Steve adjusted himself, his growing cock pressed to the mattress as if he was supposed to hide the fact he was turned on. He wasn’t really sure if you’d be more offended if he wasn’t. He didn’t know the rules when it came to getting yourself off in front of your best friend. So he kept it a little light, laughed breathily and asked:
“You’re such a dumbass. Are you even touching your clit?”
His words buzzed through you, a simple question but bordering on the dirty talk you heard on the late night channels that you always kept at a low volume. You squirmed, shrugging, unable to take your eyes off of Steve. He was watching your hand move, fingers swiping through your folds under the soft cotton and you felt yourself get a little wetter.
You wondered if he could see, if you’d have a little damp patch between your spread legs.
“I think so?” you claimed. “I don’t— it’s just, it’s too slippy to feel anything properly. They didn’t teach us this is sex ed, you know.”
Steve inhaled sharply, breath stuck in his throat like a chokehold. You watched his cheeks burn, a pretty pink glow across the high points of them and you wondered if he’d move closer, if you asked. His hand was lying near your ankle, fingers twitching.
“No, I know— shit, uh—“ Steve swallowed audibly, shifting again, hips moving uncomfortably and you wondered if he was hard, if he was turned on too. “Just— move in circles, be a little softer, Christ, babe. You’ll… you’ll feel it.”
So you did, two fingers exploring slowly, up and down between your spread folds, moving a little higher until you jumped, the pads of your middle and pointer touching a little bump that made your leg jerk.
You laughed, feeling stupid, feeling floaty, bone lazy and searching for another type of high. You crinkled your nose, lashes fluttering as you touched that spot again and again. Slow circles, soft and timid.
“Oh,” you murmured, mouth parting.
You were still watching the boy.
Steve pressed his lips together, watching you back, gaze flickering from your hand underneath the pink cotton to your face, the pretty way your eyes went hooded and dark.
“Yeah? Feel good?”
You nodded, grinning at Steve’s words, head feeling dizzy at the sensation that was building, a hook in your stomach that was pulling tighter and tighter. A laugh bubbled from you, elated, high. “Yeah, s’feels good.”
You thought you heard Steve let out a soft noise, a moan, maybe. He swore, head falling slightly, his forehead bumping the bed before he went back to staring.
“Will I come?” You asked, still smiling, still feeling buzzy. “Like this? If I keep doing this?”
You were squirming again, chasing your fingers and Steve was watching open mouthed. He’d moved, finally, the rock hard evidence of your show evident in his jeans. Steve was too far gone to try and hide it now, the length of him aching and when he dragged the heel of his palm over himself, you keened, eyes tracking the movements.
“Yeah, fuck— yeah, just keep doing what feels good, okay?” Steve voice was hoarse, wrecked sounding, pretty sounding. “You’re doing real good, babe.”
The phrase made your hips lift from the bed a little, fingers boring down a little harder now, confidence growing and the laughter leaving your throat as Steve kept rubbing over his cock, looking at you like were made of gold.
“Holy shit, that’s really fuckin’ hot,” he croaked, “you gonna come, yeah?”
You nodded, head tipped back into the pillows, bones nothing but liquid heat now as your fingers slid messily over your clit, your underwear stretched out over the back of your hand. You wondered if Steve could see anything, if the elastic in the stupid, pink cotton had given away enough for him to see the wet folds of your pussy, if he could see the way you were spread out and desperate.
You wanted him to keep talking. You just didn’t know how to ask.
You keened, back arching, fingers fumbling and face scrunching up in frustration. Your foot slipped, nudging at Steve’s arm and he caught your ankle, wide palm wrapping around it as he held you, keeping you grounded. His thumb ran over the bone there, delicate and making you shiver.
“There you go,” he murmured and he laughed when you did, disbelieving and drunk sounding. “That’s it, huh? Fuck, you’re so good, so good. I can’t believe you’re gonna let me watch you come.”
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