🪷 [ It wasn't in my plans before, but I really want to comfort these boys ]
🪷 [ Cuties, I see your requests and don't forget about them. I'm going through a little stressful period right now, so it may take a little longer than I wanted, but I'm already working on it ]
◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇
ㅡ Suo, Sakura, Umemiya
Suo
Sincere care for him
Everyone knows that Suo is strong in every sense. He is also smart, restrained, independent and confident.
It is not uncommon for people to admit such thoughts in his direction as 《 He is strong/smart/hardy, he will cope 》, waving away unnecessary worries.
But not you. You've never neglected it and it came from the heart. You knew that Suo was far from weak and admitted it, but it never affected the level of your concern for him. Yes, he is, but this does not mean that you can take less care of him, referring to the fact that he can do it himself.
Strong people can take care of the difficulties outside and also take care of themselves. But if they can, it doesn't mean that it's easy for them.
You always paid attention to his comfort in one situation or another, did some small and inconspicuous things that actually made a big difference.
Starting from the way you imperceptibly put a cooling compress in his furin jacket pocket before patrolling on a hot day or a a small pocket warmer in winter, and ending with silent hugs at the right moment to maintain peace in his soul.
It wasn't just a superficial concern, it was about his feelings.
At first, he somehow automatically shielded himself from it, it was his defense mechanism. He didn't want to admit that he needed it in any way, he didn't want you to think that he had at least some weaknesses to know the truth.
However, time and your perseverance have done their job. Over time, Suo began to accept your truly deep concern, letting it into his heart and passing through it.
And believe me, it made his heart blossom.
Sakura
Listening and hearing
Sakura, as a person who has spent his whole life alone, is not used to conducting dialogues and generally having any long-term relationships with people.
That's why, when he first caught himself telling you about some hobby of his with a desire, and at that time you were really listening attentively to him, he felt this terribly strong and strange feeling in his chest.
Of course, at the same moment he fell into a stupor, and then he got angry because he was confused. You still don't understand why he abruptly stopped talking, flushed red in annoyance, and then abruptly said goodbye and ran away.
Poor boy, for him, these feelings seem especially strong. Because it was the first time for him.
You knew it was very difficult for Sakura to open up to people. That's why, when he started sharing his thoughts with you or telling you something, you immediately put all the worries in your head aside and focused on Sakura.
You wanted him to feel heard so that he would understand that you want to hear and listen to him
And it was at such moments that the young man's heart seemed to melt like ice under the warm rays of the spring sun.
God, you really make this boy happy.
Umemiya
Special intimate moments between you
When you are alone, he's lying on your lap, and you're stroking his head.
It is this moment that permeates Hajime's heart and soul with sparkling threads that touch his most sensitive and vulnerable points.
At this moment, he feels as if he is transported back to childhood, when he was still a carefree, happy, beloved little boy, surrounded by family love and a sense of childish lightness.
Once he had lost this happiness, these incredible sensations, but now he had found them again. In a different form, but the same happiness.
He is lying on your lap, and your fingers are tangled in his white hair while you stroke him and at this moment Umemiya feels this warmth again, he is sincerely loved again, he is again childishly carefree and happy, he is home again.
summary: even while doing an interview, Dominik always defends you,no one disrespects his mami.
A/N: oh hell yeah I love jealous and respectful latinos like whatever you say beautiful 😍😍😍😍
⋆ ˚。⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭
⋆ ˚。⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭
Dominik was always going to defend you,always,not letting anybody talk badly about you.
And you got another demonstration of this while he was doing an interview.
Being a backstage worker at raw,you two always managed to meet each other,and both of you knew that you liked him and that he liked you. So one day,he mustered enough courage to ask you out,and since then you all didn't even split.
Today you couldn't be at his side in the spanish interview,since you had to stay home because you weren't feeling really well,but you still watched it on youtube.
At the beginning,Dominik and the interviewer talked about all that wrestling stuff,about the judgment day and about Dominik's relationship with his father,the usual.
Until,the interviewer started asking your boyfriend about you. How did you two met and how did you two get together.
Dominik was so overprotective of you,and he wanted everyone to respect you. That's why he was almost going to punch the interviewer when he said you were "rica" which means "hot" but in a kinda disrespectful way.
Your eyes widened,already feeling pity for that interviewer.
"What did you say?" Dominik asked,daring the man in front of him to say it again. (he looked insanely hot while doing that you must say).
"No,no,but it's with respect." The interviewer tried to defend himself,shaking his hands in front of himself,but Dominik wasn't having it.
"With respect to whom?"
"To you,obviously. And to her too." The guy said while acting confident.
Oh you were fearing for his life.
"But I want you to say it one more time. What was it?" Dominik asked the interviewer, and said guy looked at the staff behind the cameras,trying to escape form this situation.
"I said that she's pretty,she's good lookin-" The guy got interrupted by your boyfriend.
"No,no,no. You said the word that starts with an R. C'mon,say it again,I didn't hear you." Dominik got closer to the guy while having a plastic red cup of water,and you already knew what he wanted to do.
"I said r-rica" Poor guy even started stuttering,while Dominik stood up from his armchair.
"Don't even dare talking about my mami like that ever again,saying that she's hot and she's pretty. Know your place and stay there,pedazo de mierda." Dominik said while still standing up,and after he finished talking,he throwed the cup of water on the guy,wetting him and the microphone.
"Don't even think about inviting me or my girl for an interview ever again,understood?" The interviewer nodded,while trying to remove the water that got in his eyes.
Dominik glared at him,and he started walking away from the set,ready to go home to his mami.
At home,you watched the whole thing and your mouth was wide open.
"Damn,that was hot."
⋆ ˚。⋆𔓘⭒๋࣭
It was 1 a.m. when you heard keys giggling and the main door opening,and you already knew Dominik came back home.
"Mamacita! Where are you?" Dominik shouted from downstairs,you assumed he was in the living room,and you got up from your shared bed to greet him.
"Mami! Did you see the interview? I destroyed that dumbass with punches after they finished recording." He said while smiling,as if he really had fun.
"Dom,you're insane!" You exclaimed while giggling,and your boyfriend came to you and gave you a soft kiss.
"I had to defend my mami,didn't I?" He asked smirking,while holding your waist with his huge hands.
"Oh,you had to,DomDom. That was one of the papi-est things you ever did." You said chuckling,while wrapping your arms around his neck.
TBH the best case scenarios in my mind for Fit's lore ending on Thursday are either:
Madagio has mercy. They know what it's like to lose everyone they love, and seeing what's happening on Quesadilla Island is just a reminder of everything they loved and lost. Madagio releases Fit, and he reunites with Pac e Mike and Richarlyson, and they're all able to leave Quesadilla Island.
Or:
Madagio and Fit destroy the Federation together. Fit goes full 2B2T mode and there's nothing left of the Federation once they're finished. Madagio and Fit finally have their revenge. (And then maybe Fit can reunite with Pac + all his loved ones and they escape the Island, or reclaim the island for their own since the Federation no longer has any power over them).
Bonus: A very unlikely but "Wouldn't it be fun?" scenario would be Pac and Mike flying down on a fully-grown dragon Richas and rescuing Fit from Vacuus Island and they fly away and live happily ever after.
Please pray that a complicated billing situation will be sorted out and covered by my insurance. It's for an ambulance ride I had in June for a panic attack. Some of you might remember me panicking about it a few months ago when I got the statement.
okay hot take time with tumblr user designernishiki yet again.
i really don’t get the hype over majimako like. at all. I’ve tried to wrap my head around it but every time I just end up so confused how it’s such a popular pairing and wondering if we played the same game like?? they had no chemistry, barely even knew each other (and what they did know of each other was almost entirely built off desperate traumabonding) and people treat the pairing like it’s the most deep, romantic thing in the world despite there being like. nothing there. at least romantically speaking. it’s honest to god baffling to me.
their most iconic “romantic” image together comes from a scene where makoto wants to fucking run away from him because she wants to find lee, who she fully trusts and who’s in danger (and probably also because majima’s literally just admitted to initially planning to murder her.) and he has to hold her there so she doesn’t get herself killed by running (literally) blindly into the street or something. how on earth is that a romantic scene.
their little sort-of date consists of majima being kind and sympathetic to her, sure, maybe even displaying some surface level feelings, but she’s completely preoccupied because of the massively important issues going on at the time with the lieutenants who wronged tachibana, she’s more or less probably plotting their deaths in her head during that scene, and in the end she purposefully has him run to get takoyaki so she can flat out Leave without him stopping her. because she has other priorities and is Not In The Headspace For A Soft Sentimental Escapade to say the absolute least.
Whatever they were, they were not In Love, they didn’t have time or circumstances for that, or to get to know one another as Actual People rather than as incidental liferafts in the midst of a sea of traumatic, nightmarish events. majima attached himself to her and felt strongly about her safety and eventual return to normalcy because she reminded him of himself and wanted her to have the pleasant civilian life he couldn’t give himself. on her end? honestly I don’t think she felt that connected to him at all up until the end, namely up until when he fixed her watch. and even then “romantic” is not even close to the word id use for what she was feeling– in fact I think that waters it down, if anything. I mean like fuck she was there bringing flowers to her brother’s grave in the spot where he died in front of her i really don’t think this was about romanticism, it was about compassion and selflessness and wishing her good luck in her new, free life, while expecting nothing from her in return. he cared about her and her outcome in life deeply and this would be the case regardless of any romantic feelings for her.
Anyway I didn’t mean for this to turn into an essay and somehow I could go on for longer but I absolutely do not need to. I just. am so secure in my thoughts about this and sometimes seeing how people talk about this relationship and it’s supposed deep romanticism makes me feel like I’m losing my mind or played a completely different game or something ngl. don’t get me wrong, ship whatever you want I’m not saying it’s problematic or something it’s just. bizarre to me how popular and sensationalized it is. and a little frustrating how applying this overdramatic romantic narrative to them can so often water down a dynamic that’s way more nuanced and interesting on an individual character level.
Just wanted to say that I have been thinking of you and pre-emptively empathizing with the nonsense you are no doubt being flooded with and the psychic damage it must be causing. Keep stanning the king ignore the weirdos <3
thankg u.,, i feel like ive been trapped in a fuckign . Torture Labyrinth these past coupl days . but. wwe will. We Will Yet Persist onwards w/ our hand on the left wall till we;re either out or at the center i swear 2 fucking GOD,
I love pov!! I love povs so much!!! I love to see stories of why and how the "bad guy" got to where they are! Bonus points if from their pov they are the good guy!
I would LOVE to see a show/movie that starts with us following the regular hero backstory and see the character grows and becomes a better person and all of that, and later have corruption arc, but not from some evil dude doing something to them, but from the inside and all that occurred to them, the bigging of a hero and a villain are often similar with little differences from their lifes and the environment around them it's so fucking interesting and i would LOVE to have it as the show's "twist"
A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.
So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.
Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.
When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.
One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"
He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."
And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.
I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.
So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.
Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.
But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?
All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.
I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.
This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.
In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.
One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.
Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.
Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."
In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.
On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.
In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.
Would it have hurt less if at the end of everything I was lowered into those rose bushes, to my bloody painful end, I miss her everyday, would it have been different.
kinda funny seeing that last queued tf post with me gushing in the tags abt the comic bc i havent felt joy or even an emotional connection reading mtmte for a while
☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.
summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.
wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)
cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.
an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls
☆ NANAMI
nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.
but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.
“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.
as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.
"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.
“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.”
you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day.
he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass.
“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.
“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg.
“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”
suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.
you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”
“really?” you question coyly.
“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”
“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.
“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”
“wha—”
“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”
you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you.
nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy, “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.
you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.
“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt. “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”
“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”
“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”
“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”
“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.
“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”
“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”
“wha—”
“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”
“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out
“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.
“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.
“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”
“thanks for the live show.”
☆ TOJI
“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.
“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further.
you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.
“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.
“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”
you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”
“am too,” he mutters like a child.
“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.
“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.
“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”
he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.
his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you.
he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy.
“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.
“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”
“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.
“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”
“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”
“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.
“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.
“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”
“ugh you’re so gross.”
“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.
“if you insist.”
he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”
“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.
☆ GETO
you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching.
“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it.
“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”
“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.
“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”
he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?”
"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."
“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”
“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?”
he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”
“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.
“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?”
your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto.
you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”
“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear.
he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun — down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.
his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace.
geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.
but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.
“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.
“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”
“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.
“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”
“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.
“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.
“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.
“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.
“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.
“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.
“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”
“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.
☆ GOJO
“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”
“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”
you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy.
it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever.
you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’
“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.
“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”
“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”
“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”
“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.
for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him.
“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it.
“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.
“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.
“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.
after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”
“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”
“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”
an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS
Your au's for Ghost have me absolutely feral, specially now that I found the viking content. I'm a sucker for big cold man with a sweet angel for a wife 🥺
There's just so much angst potential, imagine the wife was this doe eyes lady that dreamt of love and read all the sweet fairy tales just to end up married to a brute that thing romance is dumb. Then she tries to make their relationship work in a more traditional sense but the attempts fail 🥺🥺🥺
It could be very angsty or a beauty and the beast type of situation where he tries his best for wifey.
beauty and the beast yes please and thank you or alternatively: lady and the tramp
c/w: fluff, mentions of smut, i’m bad at writing romance leave me alone i’m heartless
he’s always known you as his wife. from the second price dropped you in his lap like a stray kitten, mumbles of clan alliances and blah blah blah. you didn’t really have an opinion nor say about the whole situation. but you didn’t seem displeased with the arrangement your father made with price
it never really clicked in his brain that before you were his wife, you were once a little girl with a head full of dreams. hopes of growing up and finding a good man. one who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear at night, building a home and family with you, treat you like the darling thing that you are
and now here you are, the other half of this viscous soldier. a man who has never known a gentle touch in his life. his romantic experiences consist of going to the brothel and picking the first woman he sees to relieve the stress of battle. he never planned on taking a wife nor starting a family
you never complained. not once. even when he shut down your attempts at affection. you took it on the chin and moved on. perhaps you understood that you could definitely have it worse. simon is by no means a good man. but he certainly isn’t a cruel one either
he’s never laid a disrespectful hand on you. never allowed anyone to treat you as anything other than his wife. the same can’t be said for a lot of women put into these kinds of arrangements
he started to figure you out in bed one night. after being intimate together, he was sat up in bed, candlelight illuminating his sweaty chest as he pants to catch his breath. a flask of ale in his hand as he gulps it down
your form is splayed out in his lap, your legs tangled with those thick tree trunks he calls thighs. the covers are bunched up around you, barely concealing your naked bodies to anyone who might decide to intrude
it never makes him jump when he feels your nails dig into his back and claw down the muscle when he fucks you. or when your teeth bite down on his shoulder to cover your moans when he hikes up your skirt in the dark alley behind a tavern. but when your fingers gentle dance over the scars and tattoos littering his sweaty skin, he feels the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up
goosebumps prickle up and down his body when your lips graze over the large scar slashed across his burly chest, tongue flicking out ever so slightly to taste the sweat resting there,
"what're you doin'?" he grunts out, taking another sip of the ale. your eyes flick up to him, almost surprised that he's actually talking to you. you shrug your shoulders lightly, cheeks heating up slightly from his blunt acknowledgement of your affections
“appreciating what was gifted to me by the gods. your body is a blessing, husband…” you whisper so quietly he almost didn’t hear it. but he did
you considered him a gift. a blessing, even. from the gods themselves. simon almost wanted to laugh. another part wanted to tell you to stop, stop with these childish fantasies. but it soon made sense why you never gave up your attempts of coaxing approval from a man so afraid to love
somewhere, deep down inside of you. that little girl is pleading with you, begging you to make her dreams of finding true love come to life. telling you that you’re the only one who can do it. without you, she has no hope
perhaps it can’t hurt to indulge you. just this once.
This preview for the next ep of summer house mv…. jasmine, girl……….. shouldn’t you have known this man’s mindset before you married him??? Like, what was the rush on marriage before truly learning him? Or y’know maybe actually being ready for the life changes that commitment brings?
this year's prompts were chosen through a suggestion poll (in which we recevied 2,281 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where over 1,000 people voted for their favourites. the top 29 make up the core prompts, and a mixture of the next most popular - and this blog's personal favourites - have become the alternates
i’m so excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and hope they’re inspiring enough to trigger a whole month’s worth of creativity for you! if you have any questions, please check out the blog's faq before sending an ask, or check out the previously asked questions on the blog!
please note: this year, notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form that will be released closer to the end of febuwhump.
full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:
FEBUWHUMP 2024 PROMPTS:
DAY 1: helpless
DAY 2: solitary confinement
DAY 3: "bite down on this"
DAY 4: obedience
DAY 5: rope burns
DAY 6: "you lied to me"
DAY 7: suffering in silence
DAY 8: "why won't it stop?"
DAY 9: bees
DAY 10: killing in self defence
DAY 11: time loop
DAY 12: semi-conscious
DAY 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"
DAY 14: blood-stained tiles
DAY 15: "who did this to you?"
DAY 16: came back wrong
DAY 17: hostage situation
DAY 18: too weak to move
DAY 19: "please don't"
DAY 20: truth serum
DAY 21: unresponsive
DAY 22: "you weren't meant to be there"
DAY 23: presumed dead
DAY 24: "i'm doing this because i care about you"
DAY 25: waterboarding
DAY 26: "help them"
DAY 27: left for dead
DAY 28: "no... not like this"
DAY 29: not allowed to die
ALTERNATE PROMPTS:
is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!
ALT 1: human shield
ALT 2: "i love you"
ALT 3: found footage
ALT 4: human weapon
ALT 5: cpr
ALT 6: immortality
ALT 7: last words
ALT 8: killing game
ALT 9: lightning strike
ALT 10: last man standing
RULES:
SOFT RULES:
prompts should be answered in the form of whump
creators can produce whatever kind of media they want
you don’t have to complete all the prompts! you can create however much you want to
you can use the prompts after the event ends and can complete them in tandem with any other event
you can post on any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing those posted on tumblr
if you want to be featured on the hall of fame then you have until the 3rd of March to inform this blog that you completed all the days
if you have questions consult the faq before asking
HARD RULES: (specifically for being featured on the blog)
when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:
febuwhump (i’ll also be checking febuwhump2024)
the relevant day’s tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2…
nsfw (if relevant)
and any trigger warnings that may be important!
you can also tag the blog, @febuwhump
i cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog because I have no idea how many participants there will be. a random selection of works tagged in accordance to the rules above will be reblogged every day of february.
what do you get the man who already has everything for his birthday?
genre:
teeth-rotting fluff and comfort because no—i can't make his birthday angsty ok
note:
so this is my entry for the birthday boy <3 this takes place immediately after daddy-to-be, where the first years are still yuta, maki, panda and toge
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
Honestly? Satoru wondered about it a lot these days.
He already has everything he wanted—unparalleled cursed technique, a fairly happy life, a pretty wife, and just recently, a kid on the way.
But his birthday was in a week and it was as clear as a day that you were planning something for him.
“Come on, you can't fool me, sweets.”
He noticed that you had started waking up earlier than usual. Initially, he thought it was due to your morning sickness, but it turned out you were sneaking away to another room for an hour or two and only came out when it was around breakfast time.
Did you really think he wouldn't catch on? Satoru found himself torn between concern and amusement. He didn't want you to strain yourself—especially after your recent fainting spells—and yet a part of him was over the moon by the fact that you did it for him.
His eyes crinkled, twinkling with affection. “You're planning something for my birthday in the mornings lately. That's sweet, but you don't have to, really.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why are you so sure that it's for your birthday? I never said anything."
"Well, what else could it be? Unless you're cheating on me at six in the morning—"
"I have your spawn inside me, Gojo Satoru—"
"Don't call it ‘spawn’!" Satoru interjected with a theatrical gasp. "It's our very own little munchkin! Our love! Love!"
This was so ridiculous and you couldn't help yourself from giggling. And seeing you like that softened something inside him.
"Really, don't push yourself too hard," he said with a pout, resigned. "You need lots and lots of sleep."
"I'm not a baby, Satoru."
"Half of you is, so it makes you one!"
He was dramatic, but it was his own way to care because your husband was just wired that way.
You sighed, relenting. “Okay, okay… I know my limits. I will stop when I don't feel well, yeah? Besides, I won't have time to do it except in the mornings because I still have classes to teach.” It seemed like he wasn’t satisfied with your answer so you added, “Just so you know, it's something I enjoy too.”
"Hmph," Satoru huffed, eyeing you petulantly. "It'd better be good, or I'll spank you."
If it were physically possible for your eyes to roll a full 360 degrees into the back of your head and back, they definitely would have. "Oh, you will adore it, I promise."
Well, it wasn't a part of the plan, but now that he had asked for it, you'd definitely add a twist in his gift...
Satoru connected the dots instantly when he saw yarn and needles—what else were you doing aside from knitting?
His sweet wife, who woke up early just to make a handmade gift for his birthday—ahh, his heart could've burst. It was so cute and so you, the warmhearted being that you were.
He would go back early today, he decided, as he strolled the halls of the Jujutsu High with a cheerful tune. You were certainly waiting back at home and he would shower you with love and praise just for your efforts alone these past few days.
And so, he would have never expected that when he received a call from Nanami that afternoon, his world would utterly shatter in the most terrifying way.
“Gojo-san, please, you must come back.” Nanami was always steadfast even in the direst situations. And yet, now he was breathing hard, and panicking. “Something happened. You must go back to your residence—”
In that moment all he could think of was you and his baby. His entire world. Were you hurt?
He didn’t dwell on it—or rather, he couldn’t. His fingers went to rip his blindfold off as a sense of exponential dread creeped in and threatened to engulf him whole—a very, very strange, unfamiliar feeling to him—and he teleported back to his haven in a blink of an eye.
He had been ready to unleash hell, to see you lying on your own pool of blood, or anything. No, that was something he could never be ready for, but he would somehow make it right—
“Ooh, there he is!”
“Already?!”
“Nevermind—”
—and suddenly, he was swept into a whirlwind of confusion and commotion.
“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GOJO-SENSEI!”
Today is December 7.
It took a while for Satoru to discern everything, with his pulsating heartbeats and the rush of emotions that overwhelmed him. His eyes darted from each and every face who were suddenly in his house, searching for yours—
“Satoru!” you greeted him from behind Nanami, radiantly beaming, and only then could he finally breathe. You are safe—you’re well—
You had meant for it as a joke, a little payback for all the grievances he had caused you—and let’s not forget, Nanami—but you immediately regretted it when you had a look over the absolute terror in his heavenly blue eyes that you loved so much.
You had seen this once, before, when he proposed to you.
“Satoru.” You waltzed towards him, gently cradling his stunned face in your hands. “Hey,” you coaxed him with an apologetic smile, reassuring him of your presence.
Satoru looked at you squarely in the eyes, and as he fully took in the sight of you, he let out a shuddering breath and pulled you close with a firm arm around your waist and and the other around your back.
“You evil woman,” he murmured in your ears, and you could feel the slight tremble of his body and the way his heart was still thumping wildly inside his sturdy chest, which made you feel even more sorry.
“Whoa, that got you good, huh?” Panda remarked with a bemused grin.
“As expected,” Megumi snorted.
“Salmon! Salmon!”
“Ehh, that’s actually sweet…” Maki noted thoughtfully. “I would have never expected him to drop everything that fast just to go back here only after a suspicious phone call—”
“Of course he would!” Yuta rebuked with pride. “It’s his wife after all! And Nanami-san truly did a really convincing job at it!”
Nanami. Satoru casted a stern glare toward his junior, while the man in question awkwardly coughed. How did you even involve him in this?
Nah, he would deal with him later.
Despite the scare that got him good, your little plan commenced as it should. The closest of his friends and students were there to throw him this silly birthday party, as well as shower him with a plethora of gifts.
You had managed to round up his students to write birthday wishes for him in a scrap book filled with various photographs throughout the past year. This is sweet, he thought.
And one note tugged at his heartstrings the most:
Thank you, sensei, for everything — Yuta.
If anything he did ever made an impact on those young sorcerers, then Satoru was wholeheartedly glad. He wanted them to grow and made their own path in this unforgiving world, and their gratitude stirred a profound sense of relief within him.
“Here.” He was genuinely surprised when Megumi abruptly pushed a long, thin box toward him next, shyly averting his gaze. “Happy birthday.”
A fountain pen. It must have costed him some. It was strange, but Satoru felt oddly emotional.
The kid was barely six when he first approached him. He was prickly and sour and definitely wasn't welcoming. And then, he had matured right before his eyes. Satoru couldn’t help ruffling his hair vigorously and snickered, disregarding the scowl directed his way.
Nanami extended his well-wishes, and even though he still had a score to settle with him later, he was happy to have him here. Shoko couldn’t come but she left you with a recorded message.
“Happy birthday, Gojo, idiot,” Shoko was grinning in the video you played. “I'm sorry I can't be there, but my wish is for you to tone down your antics. We could all use a bit less of that.”
The two remaining reminders of the bluest spring in his life. Something pricked his heart at the stark reminder that they were not whole—and if only that someone was here, they would—but the fact that these two thought of him was enough.
And now, at last, it was time for your gift. Satoru thought he knew what it was, but as he carefully opened the ivory box, a profound sense of warmth still washed over him.
Mittens, with the color of freshly fallen snow, lay in the box—two pairs in total. One was remarkably tiny, seemingly tailored for a baby, while the other was notably larger, undoubtedly meant for him.
You. Him. The baby. By this time next year, there would be three of you. The happy picture of all of you together in near future was a gift in and of itself. You two are his everything.
Satoru went by his instincts and grasped your arm, crashing his lips against yours ardently, beaming with the broadest grin. He paid no heed to the squeals and disapproving glances from everyone around, as he felt entitled to do so—declaring his love boldly so you would know… that he was utterly, hopelessly in love with you.
That he was grateful for you in this otherwise dreary life.
And that if there were any other lives he might live after this ended... then he hoped the heavens would always bring you back to him—and for you to always choose him just like this, no matter what.
Epilogue
“So you really did call Nanami at six in the morning.”
Later that night, just before bed, your husband was still holding a grudge on you for frightening him back in the day, evident by the permanent purse of his lips.
You shrugged, buttoning the last button of your sleepwear. “I did… but it’s for greater purpose, so… yeah.”
“I can’t stand this. I’m suing you for collateral damage.”
You almost laughed. “Pffft—what? What damage—”
“My fragile heart! You can’t do that to me and expect I won’t charge you!”
“Well…” You noted with a meaningful smile. You couldn’t say you didn’t expect this, because Satoru always got pouty whenever he was irked in one way or another, and so in advance, you had actually been prepared for this.
You caught him off guard when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around his neck, your fingers teasing his undercut. It was a nice change of pace, seeing the faint blush coloring his cheeks as he steadied you by your waist.
“…what if I say… I still have one present left for you?”
So, what did you get a man who already has everything for his birthday?
Your whole heart, of course.
And if you were in the mood for an additional surprise, a brand new pair of lacy lingerie you had under your pajamas might do the trick.