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#Do you ever just think about these two in the anime and be like. man. who let them be this good
violetarks · 5 hours
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“baby keep talking, but nobody’s listening!”
anime: jujutsu kaisen
characters: gojo satoru, choso, fushiguro toji
summary: they find you on a date with someone they've never seen before, but they don't need to look for long to see how bored you were. deciding for you that it would be the first and only date you ever went on with that man, they come to your rescue.
warnings: afab! reader, she/her pronouns used, reader is on a date with a man, said date sucks ass (trying to regulate what y/n eats, snarky comments, egotistical, rude to hospitality workers), shoko/itadori/shiu help set you up on a date but they suck at it
↣ gojo satoru
"satoru, you have to get out," you huff at him, crossed arms over your chest. he sat on your cough, flicking through tv channels. "my date is coming here in ten minutes!"
"you mean the stranger that shoko met at the mall and said would 'totally be your type'?" he says, looking over his shoulder to you. you raise a brow. "c'mon, blow him off. we need to finish 'the last of us'!"
"don't you dare watch it while i'm gone, satoru, or god so help me—" your phone rings, interrupting your threat. you answer when you see the number of your date. "hello? oh, yes, this is y/n."
you begin to walk to grab your keys and your bag, satoru following after you when you suddenly stop.
"oh, uh... you want to meet there?" you say, tilting your head, "no, that's fine, i'll leave now. see you—..."
"he's not coming to pick you up?" satoru questions, watching as you take out your car keys.
"he's actually already there. and he's ordered for me." you say with a bit of doubt in your voice. satoru can hear it. "it's fine, i should go now. don't you dare watch that show, i will kill you. see you, satoru."
the whole time you're gone, he can’t do anything. he’s sitting in silence for an hour, not even looking at his phone. he felt angry at himself.
so he followed you, obviously.
he looked up the restaurant you had mentioned to him before and saw the pictures posted online. it looked like such a nice first date place. and that boiled even more jealousy in him. of course he had to follow you.
and luckily he did; you looked miserable.
he takes out his phone as soon as possible.
“you know how many calories are in that meal?” your date said after the waiter left your table, “way better for you than what you wanted.”
you had just told him your favourite dish in the menu. and he told you he ordered you just a salad. while he got two meals because he was ‘bulking’.
when shoko showed you his instagram, you had to admit that he was cute. he was fit too, and you did your fair share of exercise. he had a nice smile and he also posted photos of his dog. but that couldn’t shield you from what was right in front of you.
you found out he was a model for a magazine you’ve never heard of, and while that was impressive, it was his whole personality. you asked about his pet, and he somehow turned it back to his career and how he did a fireman themed calendar last year. you’d think he was surely more than that, but it didn’t seem it. you had barely talked about yourself. it didn’t look like he was interested anyway.
“hm, what did i do today?” he thought out. you cringed at the way he tapped his chin, pretending to think. “i hit the gym at 5am, walked my pet for an hour and a half, took some photos for my resume since i’ve got a new deal coming up, and spent time from then to now just at the studio.”
you were waiting for him to ask about your day. he doesn’t.
“and you know, i’m actually the most valued model at my studio. they always call me for shoots, i’m always first on their list. you’d think i could catch a break every so often,” he chuckles out, rubbing up and down his arms. you hold back from rolling your eyes as you sip your water. “but it’s hard being so… handsome.”
you stare at him and fight the urge to roll your eyes once again.
"what about you?" the moment you've waited for comes a little too late. you're not even interested in speaking about yourself.
"well, i did some grocery shopping this morning—"
"what did you buy?"
"me and my friends are having a movie tomorrow, so i just bought some snacks for us," you explained for some reason, "chocolates, popcorn, chips—"
"junk food?" he scoffs back, "no, no, you don't need all that. you oughta' bring it back and get some fruit. way better for you."
you down the rest of your alcoholic drink you had ordered (the one thing he did let you choose) and look away.
that is when you feel a hand rest on your upper back.
"excuse me, ma'am," you look up and widen your eyes when you see satoru standing before you. he's wearing a white button-up, black slacks, dress shoes and a black waist apron. you freeze up. "the gentleman over there asked me to give you this, already paid for."
you look over to where he was pointing. nanami sits in his own suit as he waves his hand at you, pained smile. satoru places a mojito in front of you. your date stands up.
"the hell? doesn't he see that i'm here?" he scoffs as he stands up. his chair screeches against the floor, which collects everyone's attention in the restaurant. "he's insulting me! what a prick! i'm gonna fuck him up!"
"hey!" you stand up as he begins trudging over. satoru places a hand on your shoulder to stop you, and you see nanami roll his eyes and stand up as well, ready for the fight. "what are you two doing here? and why are you dressed like that?"
"i'm the ultimate undercover agent, of course," he replies. he begins pulling off his apron and dropping it on your seat. he hooks his arm with yours and smiles. "let's get outta' here."
"but my date—"
"he's fine," you watch as nanami dodges one of his punches with and irritated face. "nanami will take care of him."
you let him whisk you out of the restaurant while everyone is watching the two men fight (not really). satoru walks you to his car and starts the engine. you see nanami's car behind his.
"did you seriously bring him along to get me out of that date?" you chuckle as you stare at him. satoru purses his lips and looks away. "thank you, satoru. you didn't have to."
"you're welcome, gorgeous," he responds to you, "i could tell from the phone call that he wasn't all that. wonder what barrel they fished him out of."
you let out a small sigh and look out the window. you were embarrassed; this was the first date you've ever been set up on, and it went horribly. you knew you should've left earlier, not wait until satoru came along. he was your saviour for today, you had to admit.
but what was even worse, you seemingly let than man talk to you like that. you could chalk it up to just being friendly and giving him the best benefit of the doubt, but deep down you know you would never have let that slide with people you know. hell, yaga could speak to you that way and you would still give him an earful.
"don't be sad, y/n, now we can go to yours and watch our show," satoru attempts to cheer you up. he flashes you a smile. "i promise, i won't eat all your food."
"you're a liar, satoru." you laugh back.
"seriously though, that guy was a wreck. why did he keep talking about calories and stuff?" he mumbles out with a disapproving shake of his head, "i had to shut him up somehow. i should've just spilt the drink over him."
"oh god, what about the food? i didn't pay for my meal."
"you mean the salad you didn't want? i cancelled it for ya'."
"why aren't you this nice all the time? you usually bully me." you claim in a joking matter. satoru pouts at you. "i appreciate this, a lot. i guess guys who only ever think about themselves aren't my type."
there's a quietness in the car as he turns on his indicator. you enjoy the little noise coming from the radio, a song that you've heard quite a lot.
"you know, yuuji, nobara and megumi?" he clears his throat.
"yeah?" you respond to him in confusion.
"yeah," he hums with a nod of his head, "i think 'bout them a lot. they're good kids."
"they are," you agree with him. it takes you a few seconds before you look at him again. "satoru, that's not what i meant."
"so am i your type?"
"oh my god."
"answer the question, y/n."
↣ choso
"yuuji?"
"yeah?"
"do you know who this is?" choso shoves his phone into his brother's face.
"uh, that's y/n." yuuji responds in a bit of confusion. the two of them were sitting in a new restaurant with ramen on their tables. choso’s sat nearly untouched for the past ten minutes as he flicked through some pictures you sent to a groupchat with him in it. yuuji was halfway through chewing noodles when choso asked him about the photo you sent a few minutes ago. “why? she looks good.”
“no doubt,” choso mutters in response as he zooms in on the other figure in the picture you took of your reflections in the window, “i mean him.”
“oh, that’s the guy who me, nobara and y/n saw last week at the movies,” yuuji responds, “he asked y/n for her number, so i think they’re out together right now.”
he looks at yuuji in disbelief as the pink-haired boy starts slurping on the soup. it takes him a few seconds to properly react.
“are you serious?” choso says a little loudly. people turn to stare at the pair. “you let him get her number?”
“what? he seemed cool and y/n didn’t seem to mind that i gave it to him.” yuuji holds his hands up in defense as choso angrily glares at the photos on his phone screen. “you said you weren’t gonna’ make a move on her anyway!”
“that doesn’t—” a groan leaves his lips as choso holds his head. he lets in a deep breath. “okay, it’s fine.”
“i’m sorry, choso.”
“no, it’s my fault, i did say i wasn’t going to ask her out,” he tells yuuji, who slowly goes back to eating, “i… i missed out, i guess.”
yuuji frowns as the guy in front of him sadly eats his food.
“you know…” he begins with a small smile. choso looks up to him. “they’re just out for lunch nearby. y/n told me where they were going. we could—”
“yuuji! hurry up!” choso has grabbed his jacket and is rushing to the door before yuuji can reply, “we might miss them!”
yuuji scurries out of restaurant after he gobbles down his ramen. it isn’t too far of a drive, actually. it took about 15 minutes to get there and choso had easily spotted your car in front of a cozy cafe. he parks next to it and almost ducks when be notices you in the chair facing the window, facing the two of them, with your date sitting in the booth — your favourite spot. choso always let you sit in the booth side.
choso clutched onto the steering wheel with gritted teeth. yuuji looked towards you to get a better view.
“huh… she looks annoyed.” yuuji points out.
“this guy…” choso grunts.
inside the cafe, you had taken a few photos of your food and your drink. you’re glad yuuji suggested this place, you loved the service and the food here. the servers were always so nice and helpful and quick, and the food was amazing too.
it was obvious to you that your date didn’t think the same.
“god, everything in here is so…” he begins as he examines the design on his waffles. he cringes a little. “girly.”
“it’s just a bunny design,” you point out as you sadly stir the cat-shaped foam into your hot drink, “it’s cute.”
“it’s embarrassing,” he reiterates. you purse your lips and sip your drink. the delicious taste was enough to make you forget his sour tone. until he speaks up again. “can’t believe your friend told us to go here.”
“i love this cafe,” you state, “everyone here is so nice.”
“the service is slow and they gave me the blueberry waffles instead of the normal ones like i said,” he complains. you set your drink down and hold back from rolling your eyes. “i don’t care how busy you are, you always check five times that the order is correct.”
you don’t even reply to him after that, only trying to enjoy your meal that you paid for. he wasn't helping at all. you thought that because he was so charismatic when talking to yuuji that he was probably a good catch, but you couldn't have been more wrong. maybe he was just putting up a front in order to score you. you really shouldn't judge a book by its cover anymore.
"hey. over here," he begins to snap his fingers and nodding at a server with four full plates of food. the guy looks over frantically, obviously under pressure. "i wanna' ask you something."
"ah, right, give me a second, sir—" the guy was trying to distribute the food with the customers who he was serving.
"i told you, slow service," your date scowls towards you. could you be any more embarrassed right now? the server finishes off his task before coming over to you two. before he can even ask, your date is holding up a nearly empty cup of coffee. "this is the most bitter coffee i have ever had in my whole entire life."
"oh, well, you ordered an americano, sir," the poor server explains, "they tend to be bitter."
"what? no, no, no," the guy in the booth starts shaking his head, "i ordered a flat white."
"you..." the server begins. he was the one who had taken your order too.
"you ordered the americano, actually," you pointed out. the guy raised a brow at you, unamused. "it's okay, you can just order a flat white—"
"god, i did not order an americano." he claims.
but you distinctly remember him saying 'americano' for his drink. and the server repeated the order back to him before it was confirmed annoyedly. you stare down at his nearly empty cup.
"y'know what? just put the flat white on the tab, i will pay for it." you sigh out as you rub your neck.
your date looks more pissed off as the server leaves.
"he was wrong, you don't have to pay for another drink." he mutters out.
"it's nothing, don't worry." you retort and stare back down at your food. you didn't have an appetite anymore and a few minutes pass in silence.
the flat white comes out after such a long time of waiting. your date drinks it quietly, but you notice that he makes a face to show he doesn't like it. you quickly excuse yourself to go and pay at the counter for your food (he insisted on splitting the bill since he didn't like the place) so that you don't have to hear him bicker about it.
"hey," you turn behind you to see choso standing there in a baggy hoodie, a bit nervous, "fancy seeing you here..."
your eyes flicker to outside, where you see yuuji waving at you from choso's car. a smile lands on your face.
"nice to see you, choso," you mutter back as you fish out your wallet. the cashier rings up your total and you press your card to the reader. "how was your lunch with yuuji?"
"good. we cut it short to save you," he bluntly says. you blink as he glares at your date. "i don't like the guy you're with."
"me neither," you sigh out, "i think this is the last time i'll see him. but i gotta' tough it out for the rest of the date."
"you could just leave now." choso adds. he looks at you with furrowed brows.
"ah... i'm not that confident—"
"a takeaway box and takeaway cup, please," choso asks the cashier. she had been sitting there and silently agreeing with you that the guy you were sitting with was a total jerk. "thank you."
he places them in your hands and pushes you gently towards the table.
"who the hell is this guy?" your date scoffs and glares at choso, who does the same back.
"look, i'm not really having a good time on this date," you say as you play with the takeaway boxes. choso hastily takes them from you and fills it with your food in an organised matter. "i think this is the farthest we go. please enjoy the rest of your food, though."
"you serious? ditching me for some jackass?" he accusingly points at choso who wears a shit-eating grin on his face. "this is bullshit!"
"calm down, god..." you groan and rub your temple, "i just don't like you, you're so rude."
"me? you're the one who dragged me to this shithole!"
"shut your mouth before i drop you right now," choso scowls as he pushes the guy back into the booth seat. everyone was watching now, quietly thanking choso for showing up and dealing with him. "grow up, man. you act like a child."
choso grabs your hand and tugs you out of the cafe. you both thank the service with your takeaway in hand. yuuji gets out of the car with a wide smile once you two get closer.
"so, how did it go?" he asks with wide eyes.
you throw your keys at his chest.
"you're driving my car back to my apartment as punishment for setting me up with that asshole," you say with a small frown. you all knew you didn't really blame him, though. "never giving my number out to anyone ever again."
yuuji apologises thoroughly before getting into your car and driving off in the wrong direction. choso opens your door and gives you the food. once he's inside the car himself, he starts it up and begins driving.
you rest a hand over choso's on the middle console.
"thanks, choso," you sigh out, "i should've done that earlier."
"it's fine, y/n, i just wished i came sooner." he replies.
you stare at the side of his face, how irritated he looked just thinking about your date. a smile settles onto your lips and you brush your thumb over his knuckles. he falters and looks back to you for a second before muttering a 'what'.
"i'll take you out for dinner as a thank you," you state, which makes his ears go red, "you're a sweetheart, choso."
"i... uh, yeah, i'll go out with you," he mutters, "thanks..."
the laugh you let out is worth ruining thousands of your dates.
↣ fushiguro toji
"have you ever been to france?" the conceited finance guy in front of you asks, fixing his tie. he wears this smirk on his face that proves that he just knows how rich he was. he wasn't coy at all. you force a smile and shake your head slowly, trying to enjoy your meal at least. "really? that's a shame. i've been plenty of times before, and i've gotta say, the best part is..."
you begin to zone out, sighing to yourself as you move your pasta around on your plate haphazardly. he had chosen such a nice italian restaurant to absolutely ruin your perception of this guy after the first ten minutes of talking to him. you look to your watch, showing it had been only two hours since your date started.
cursing out shiu in your head, you cautiously look out the window to the sky. it wasn't that dark yet, but it felt like your night had been taken away. your mind wanders to yesterday to your conversation with shiu.
shoe
you're getting picked up at 5 tomorrow
y/n
am or pm?
shoe
???
shoe
don't show him how stupid you are, he's a rich guy. maybe he'll bring you to a yacht
y/n
why would i want to be on a yacht for our first date? is he nice?
shoe
he's rich, y/n. that's all that matters.
sometimes, you wonder how he managed to meet all these people. but then you remember that assholes attract assholes. they move together in flocks.
you stare at your red wine and tap your finger on your cheek.
"what do you think about it?" he questions, getting your attention again. you look up to see his smug face. did he really want to know?
"oh, me?" you asks, sitting up straight. you had no idea what he had been saying for the past 15 minutes.
"well, who else would i be talking to, silly?" he says in this mocking tone.
'yourself, it's who you've been talking to all night', you internally say. you had wasted such a nice outfit too. it was such a shame.
"mmm, well, it's a bit—" you begin, only to get interrupted.
"it's insane, isn't it? how could you lose so much money in only a year?" he barks out a laugh, as obnoxious as he was. the table shakes as he bangs his fist against it, waiters and guests looking towards you two. "it's absolutely preposterous! i would never make such a decision like that."
you chew out an awkward laugh before turning to your wine, sipping it.
unknowingly to you, toji was waiting in the car outside the building, getting a good view of you and your new date. he cursed shiu in a huff; not only did he set you up with someone, but the guy was a total prick. he couldn't have done a worse job, and he was broke. he pulled his seat back, watching him with pointed eyes. that guy's mouth hadn't stopped moving ever since you entered the restaurant.
and you? you looked gorgeous, your dress hugged you just right, so much so that he was jealous. toji knows it should've been him to go and take you somewhere like this.
he snaps when the guy calls the waiter over, complaining about his half-eaten food and causing a scene. you looked so uncomfortable. standing up, you excused yourself to the bathroom. and toji is quick to get out of the car.
"he's such an asshole." toji claims as you exit the ladies room. you freeze, pressing out the creases of your dress before walking closer to him at the end of the hall.
"when did you get here?" you ask, hand on your hip, "and how do you know he's an asshole?"
"been watchin' the whole time from the car," he tells you, watching as you widen your eyes and tilt your head at him, "what? couldn't help myself. shiu said you were on a date with some rich guy, 'n i had to see it."
"yeah, well, remind me to kill shiu. he's got the worst taste in men." you sigh out, crossing your arms as you lean against the wall with him. he peers at you. "you know he asked to try every single wine they had before we ordered? and he complained about the merlot not being darker. not only that, he saw my plate and said 'are you gonna' eat all of that?'. the dickhead!"
"that shit looked good." he commented, shaking his head, "who wouldn't finish that food."
"right? ugh, i hate him so much. and he hasn't even asked me about myself other than my name. he explained to me his 'entrepreneurship' and dropshipping. wanted to clock him in the face." you complained more, only fueling toji's own hate for the man.
he lifts himself off the wall, grabbing your arm and dragging you with him. "go 'n get your things. we're gettin' out of here."
"what? what am i supposed to say to him?" you mumble, stumbling behind him, "where are we going?"
"don't say anything to him. if ya' feel bad, pay for your own food." he explains to you, hand moving to rest on your back, "i'm not lettin' you waste that pretty little dress on someone like that guy."
you stare at the back of his head before falling into step with him, stopping at the table with your date. he does a double take once he sees toji, slowly standing up.
"who's he?" he asks, scanning him up and down.
"none of your business." toji retorts, looking down at him.
you begin to grab your purse when he holds out his hand to you. "where the hell are you going?" your date asks you.
"here. for my food." you say, handing him a fifty. the note flutters onto the table in front of him, which he stares at in awe. tugging on your jacket, you stare back at him with furrowed brows. "good luck in life."
with that, you turn around and begin to walk to the exit. behind you, toji sticks his tongue out at the other man and follows after. his hand finds your back once more and you wait to cross the road, sighing out to him, "thank you, toji. saved me."
"no problem." he replies, opening the door for you.
"how did you get in my car?" you ask, sitting in the driver's seat.
"don't ask." he tosses you the keys, making you wonder even more. he gets into the other side, looking back at you. “we’ll hit up that restaurant downtown. the one you always talk about wanting to go to.”
“but you said you don’t like their cuisine.” you claim, starting the car.
“it’s the only place i know that’s fancy.” he explains, looking out the window.
“sweetheart, i wouldn’t say that’s fancy—”
“do you want to go out or not?”
you laugh, reaching out a hand and holding his. he gives a small smile before looking back at you. “thank you, toji.” you say, stopping at a red light. you glance at him, sincere look in your eyes. “it means a lot that you care.”
“jus’ saving you from being stupid as fuck.” he tells you, making you roll your eyes and snatch your hand back, “could ya’ not tell he was a tool when he didn’t knock at your door? motherfucker waited in his car.”
“my god, you’ve been watching since then? toji!” you jokingly reprimand, looking at him for a split second, "i should've known from the start though... he was on his phone the whole time, in the car ride. on bluetooth speaker too."
"i woulda' jumped out the car." he retorts, shaking his head, "we should jump shiu."
"we really should." you laugh, smiling at him, "maybe for our next date."
toji can't help but roll his eyes. he knows deep down that you were hoping shiu was going to set you up with him instead. he can see it on your face, a smile that is pushing through on your lips. you're secretly happy that it was toji who 'ruined' your 'date'.
"i say that because i know you can't pay for dinner."
"did you think i was paying for this one?"
you scoff back, elbowing him, "you leech."
"you know you love me." he says it teasingly, but he knows better than anyone that you actually do.
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itneverendshere · 2 days
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school spirit and all! - soccer!frat!rafe cameron blurb (+18)
warnings: smart!reader (doesn't take shit) x bimbo!rafe <3; pope being an absolute menace (a smart one tho); mentions of sex but no actual p in v okay; written in lower cap bc i enjoy exploring the way i write and put sentences together lmao; this shit is football and y'all can argue with a wall <3 IT PAINS ME TO WRITE SOCCER Y'ALL BETTER APPRECIATE IT !!!
ps: this is just for fun cause someone asked me to post it (it was just a draft😬)
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you’ve never been one for academic sports spirit.
what’s the point? okay, your school as incredible athletes, that’s good, but why the fuck would you kiss and praise the ground they walk on? you’re a fantastic student and no one gives a shit. why do they get all the glory while brainiacs get zilch?
the double standards piss you off. somehow academics always take the backseat to sports. maybe that explained your dislike towards jocks like rafe cameron.
up until sophomore year, you’d only heard about him, saw him occasionally around school. it was understandable why people talked about him so often. he looked like he’d just been ripped off a page of an abercrombie and fitch catalog, and apparently – you’d never attended a game to check – he was the best player on the team, playing forward. but, unlike many, you didn’t form an opinion about him until you met him. the veridic? total pain in your fucking ass.
ever since you two were paired in a class project together, an annual class at that, he suddenly took an interest in you, like you were some sort of exotic animal he’d never encountered in his life, only because you wouldn’t flirt with him. outrageous, never done before. for the first four months, it was just him laying on the cheesy pickup lines and you rolling your eyes so hard you thought they'd pop out of your head. eventually, rafe dialed it down and you were able to be civil, perhaps friends. if you could call it that.
wich is why, as his friend, you’re starting to lose your fucking patience. the season was not going well for his team. at all. there’s little to no chance they’re going to be able to win the championship.
not that you care, but apparently the whole school does. everyone seems to be on the verge of a meltdown.
“i swear to god if they lose to standford next week–“
“pope, will you kindly shut the fuck up? it’s just soccer.”
“just soccer?”
you let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at pope who looks at you like you’ve just shot someone, “can we study? peacefully?”
"it’s not just soccer! it's about school spirit, camaraderie, y’know?"
you raise an eyebrow, unimpressed. "camaraderie? please. more like a bunch of testosterone-fueled egos chasing after a ball," you retort, disdain evident in your tone.
“you don't know what you're talking about. and i'm being dead serious, cameron’s been on edge lately. never seen him like this."
you lean back in your chair, crossing your arms. "yeah, well, losing does that to people. don't why you're complaining soooo much" you sigh, "i’m the one who has to put up with all the brooding and pouting.”
pope’s quiet. too quiet. you can picture the gears turning in his brain as he blankly stares at you. nothing good ever comes out of that.
“what?” you press, wondering if you have to break the school spirit out of him.
“you should fuck him. after or before, don't care. but you should."
you recoil, nearly tumbling out of your chair at pope's suggestion.
your eyes widen in disbelief, your mind struggling to process what he just said. for a moment, the room spins around you, and you feel like you’ve been thrust into some surreal alternate universe.
“what?! pope?" you finally manage to sputter, acting like you're about to go into cardiac arrest, "the fuck's wrong with you?"
“don’t look at me like that,” he merely shrugs, “that man is depressed. he needs to get laid if he’s going to win something.“
you hardly think a guy like rafe is not getting laid every other day, but that’s irrelevant. your jaw drops, stunned by his audacity. "are you kidding me? you don’t even like him!”
“but i like winning!” he whines, all but pushing his books aside to place in his elbows on the table, “and he’s so obsessed with you it hurts watching. he’s like one of those little crusty white dogs always running after you.”
you shake your head in disbelief, "he does it to be funny, okay? he’s not actually interested.. t's just a joke”
your best friend only laughs, a raucous, almost maniacal sound that echoes through the room. he clutches his stomach, "just joking?" pope gasps out, his laughter still bubbling to the surface. "oh man. you're hilarious, honestly, wow."
you stare at him, lips set in a straight line, feeling like you missed the entire joke. "what's so funny?"
pope wipes away a fake tear, trying to compose himself. "he almost ripped a new one to jj after he pulled that stunt last semester.”
your eyebrows knit together in skepticism. “and? i still don’t follow.”
rafe and jj couldn’t stand each other. both are incredible athletes and everyone always gushes about how great they are together on the field. outside, however? not so much. they don't mix. ever.
“and?! why do you think jj randomly talked about you in the locker room?”
“because he’s a horny creep and got a kink for fist fights with undressed men?”
you love jj. really, you do. but sometimes he’d win a lot more if he just kept his mouth shut or thought before speaking. you've lost count of how many times that boy has been suspended.
pope leans in, his tone low and conspiratorial, “cameron practically threatened to rearrange jj's face if he ever mentioned you again.”
you narrow your eyes, “nop. you’re making that up.”
pope shakes his head, a grin playing on his lips. "nah, i'm dead serious.”
your mind races, trying to piece it all together. while your brain always clicks instantly in class, feelings...emotions are a little more complicated to grasp sometimes.
"wait, so you're saying he actually cares about me?"
he nods, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "yep.”
“seriously?”
pope chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "head over heels. you’re our school’s only hope.”
your brain's on overdrive trying to process pope's bombshell revelation. rafe cameron, the big-shot jock, actually giving a fuck about you? it's like some twisted plot line from a teen drama. you didn’t see this one coming. but then again, you hardly pay attention to anything outside academics.
“so what? ’m supposed to fuck the mediocrity out of him?”
he grins, clapping you on the shoulder, “there’s that school spirit!”
you slap his hand away, “oh fuck off. ‘m being serious.”
he’s still grinning like he just cracked the code to life. "come on, hear me out. it's like a strategic move, y’ know? boost his morale, boost the team's performance. win-win."
you roll your eyes, not buying into his scheme. "yeah, because my sex habilities are definitely the key to winning soccer games."
he shrugs, undeterred. "it's not like you'd be doing it for him. it's all about the greater good."
you scoff, rearranging your notes for the millionth time, "this isn't some feel-good sports movie."
it’s not like you never thought about rafe. sure, he's a yapping idiot around you most of the time, but every time you need help or an extra hand, he’s always the first one to offer. that has to count for something, right?
“the ball’s in your court.”
yeah it is.
truth to be told, you’ve been sick and tired of rafe acting like a loser over soccer. what was the point in whining about it if he wasn’t going to try and do better? god, you'd never seen him like this before and it's been irking you to beyond. even more now that pope mentioned it again.
at this point, you just want to march up to him, shake him and make it come to his senses. you can’t even remember that last time he tried to hit on you. that’s how bad it is! the memory is buried under the weight of his brooding.
so maybe….maybe pope's onto something, y'know? maybe there's more to it than just you and rafe. and yeah, okay, you're not exactly thrilled about the idea of hopping into bed with him, but only because you’d hate the attention that comes along with his name.
but...a part of you is weirdly intrigued. not because you're dying to be his next conquest, but because you're just done with watching him drown in his own misery. maybe this could be the wake-up call he needs. a swift kick in the ass to snap him out of his funk.
you wouldn’t be doing out of selfish reasons! school spirit and all. you’d be doing everyone a favor. and you wouldn't need to blame it on yourself if things went downhill.
you had pope for that.
which is why you’re standing in front of rafe's room in his frat.
a jock and a frat boy? charming. you’ve certainly hit the jackass lottery. but you’ve been here before. he always saved the day when the library was packed or when your roommate was too busy fucking her boyfriend in your dorm room. this was weirdly your safe place to work.
taking a deep breath, you rap your knuckles against the door, trying to ignore the butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. it's not about you! get a grip.
the door swings open, and there's the fucker, all brooding and rugged, like he just walked off the set of a sports movie. you roll your eyes at the cliché, but there's something weird about the way he looks at you. or maybe the tight wife-beater is doing a number on you.
you still notice the bags underneath his swollen eyes.
there's a flicker of surprise in him, like he wasn't expecting to see you, out of everyone in this school, standing there and you can't blame him; after all, you're not exactly a regular visitor to the frat house, only when your academic needs force you to.
“hey?”
“you look like shit, cameron.”
rafe's eyebrows raise in surprise at your blunt remark, “uh, what?”
you roll your eyes resisting the urge to scoff. "can i come in or are you going to stand there looking like an idiot all day?”
rafe chuckles, stepping aside to let you into his room, “come on in.”
you step inside, taking in the cluttered room with a mixture of amusement and mild disgust. it was never this bad before, you know rafe’s a clean freak and this? this is not him. but it is exactly how you imagined a frat boy's room would look like—dirty.
there’s laundry strewn across the floor, empty beer cans littering the desk, and a distinct musky smell lingering in the air. you shake your head in disbelief, shooting rafe a disapproving look.
"what are you? a divorced forty-five-year-old man?”
rafe laughs at your comment, though there's a hint of embarrassment in his expression as he scratches the back of his neck. "yeah, i know. sorry about that."
he’s doing worse than what you realized and it tugs a little at your heartstrings.
you raise an eyebrow, unconvinced by his apology. "sorry doesn't cut it, cameron. you should be ashamed of yourself.”
"okay, fair point. i'll clean up, promise."
“not just your stupid room. i mean your whole attitude. you've been moping around like a loser!”
rafe's expression shifts, defensiveness crossing his features. "hey, ‘m not—"
"don't even try to deny it," you interrupt, not backing down. "everyone’s noticed. you’re pissing me off.”
you don’t know why you’re suddenly so tempted to give him the scolding of a lifetime, but there’s just something about seeing someone with so much potential and drive wasting it all away without a fight. it’s not like him.
and by the kicked-puppy look on his face, you can tell he's not used to being called out so openly. but you're dead set on breaking through to him, no matter how awkward it gets.
“see! you’re just staring at me like—like, a fucking idiot!”, you fire off, frustration lacing your tone. the irony of the situation isn't lost on you. “will you speak for gods sake? for more than five seconds? i spent months trying to get you to shut up and now you do?”
rafe's stunned expression makes you second guess your approach for a moment, but you push the feeling aside, knowing you can't afford to let sympathy cloud your purpose here.
“why are you mad at me?”
you can't believe he's still clueless after all this time.
"why am i mad at you?" you repeat incredulously, feeling the irritation rising your my chest. "seriously, rafe? have you even looked in the mirror lately?"
he blinks at you, his confusion evident, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes.
"you've been moping around like the world's about to end.”
rafe's brows furrow even further, and for a moment, you wonder if he's playing dumb or if he genuinely has no idea what you’re talking about. "i don't—uh, i don't understand," he finally stammers out, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
that’s it.
you’re gonna pull the feelings card and hope it doesn’t backfire.
“do you like me?” you blurt out, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.
rafe snorts as he lifts his finger to scratch his face, “course i do. pretty obvious.”
for a second you get a glimpse of the real rafe and it soothes you inside.
“and you want to fuck me?”
you’ve never seen him look so gobsmacked in his life, you’d laugh in his face if it wasn’t such a serious matter.
“what?” he stammers, his cheeks flushing slightly. you can’t believe the rafe cameron is blushing. over you.
you let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through your hair. "do you want to fuck me? do i need to spell it out for you?”
he opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out, and you can't help but feel a twinge of satisfaction at finally catching him off guard, “’m sorry? is this—are you…is this for punk’d?”
"punk'd? seriously, rafe?" you snap, incredulous that he would think this is some sort of prank, “it’s 2024.”
rafe's cheeks flush an even deeper shade of red, and he stammers again "no, i mean— i just...didn't expect you to— uhh”
“yes or no.”
rafe blinks at you before breathing out, “yes.”
“okay. so win your next match and you will.”
he looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, exhaling through his nose, trying to keep his agitation to a minimum. “what?”
“i’m sick and tired of this version of you. i need you to win, and if this” you gesture to the both of you with your hand, “is your motivation, then we’re doing it.”
"y’serious?" he takes a step closer, his demeanor suddenly more serious, “me and you?”
you nod firmly, crossing your arms over your chest as you tilt your head up to look at his features, “dead serious. and it’s not just you and me. it’s for the team, and for the school spirit or whatever nonsense pope keeps going on about."
rafe lets out a small chuckle, a hint of his usual cocky confident demeanor returning. "is that so? can't say no to that kind of motivation."
“i figured.”
he reaches out a hand, his fingers lightly grazing the strands of your hair, eyes fixed on your lips. "are there any rules?”
you swallow hard, feeling your heart race at his touch. “no, just win.”
rafe's lips curl into a playful smirk— the money-making smirk that makes you want to punch him and kiss him, not necessarily in that order — as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your ear.
"never would've guessed you'd be the one to offer yourself as my motivation, though," he murmurs, his voice sending a shiver down your spine, "i'm surprised."
you try to maintain your composure, but his proximity is making it increasingly difficult to think straight. "just doing what needs to be done," you manage to stammer out, trying to sound perfectly unaffected by his words.
rafe chuckles softly, his hand still lingering in your hair as he leans back slightly to look at you. "my pretty prize, huh?" he says, his tone teasing as he brushes a strand of hair away from your face.
you feel a flush spread across your features at his boldness. you blame him entirely for this side of you. without thinking, you reach up to brush your fingers against his cheek, tips pressings against his skin lightly.
“just win the fucking match, cameron."
rafe's nasty smirk widens into a heart-stopping, soul-gripping grin as he leans in closer, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours.
"consider it done."
239 notes · View notes
peaches-and-creamm · 3 days
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LOVE LANGUAGES!
a/n: thanks 🎥 nonnie for requesting sm! means a lot! hope i do ur requests justice 🙂‍↕️
also i read throu this once and saw how much i did acts of service/gift giving LOL
and nonnie if you're seeing this i'll most likely do the other request you asked for!
featuring: Megumi, Nanami, Toji, Yuta, Toge, Yuji, Satoru, Suguru
warnings: breeding kink in suguru's, fem!reader in suguru's and gn!reader everywhere else!
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MEGUMI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
quality time with a sprinkle of words of affirmation!
✎ it's no secret Megumi prefers the idea of "together alone", aka just sitting in the same room each of you doing different tasks or even just scrolling on your phones. (you don't even have to be near each other, honestly-)
✎ one of his favorite activities to do with you is when it's later at night and you're sitting nearby him while he just rambles on about random facts he finds interesting.
✎ the fact you'll just sit there, smiling at him like an idiot while you hold him close to you as you listen to every word he says- even asking him questions about whatever it is he's talking about makes him feel all fuzzy.
✎ at this point you know every little thing that's going on in his book he sometimes likes to read outloud to you, saying his theories or random things that happen to contradict themselves in whatever it is he's reading currently.
✎ a lot of the time he'll awkwardly just clear his throat and apologize for rambling, but each and every time you compliment him by saying you love his voice as he speaks about anything he's passionate about he thinks he falls harder for you(if that was even possible-)
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NANAMI'S love language would be🥁🥁
acts of service/gift giving!
✎ Kento really appreciates coming home from a long day and being surprised by the fact the kitchen was clean when he was supposed to be the one doing it- or the smell of something cooking in the kitchen flooding his nose the second he opens the front door just, he just. he really likes it, ok?
✎ He knows he isn't able to be there for you a lot of the time (missions, teaching, ect.) so if you ever come home and he's somehow there before you you best believe there's some sort of little trinket on the table waiting for you.
✎ He's not one for pda all that much but you bet your ENTIRE ass that if he sees you after a long day he doesn't care where you two are because he is about to just hide in your arms while you rub at his back.
✎ And god forbid if he ever returns home and sees how excited you get to show him some random trinket you saw in the store- handing it to him and claiming it reminded you of him. He's literally teared up before over this- (don't call him out though he'll deny it-)
✎ Has an ENTIRE shelf just dedicated to random shit that you've gotten him, and if anyone even looked at it wrong he'd almost get offended (once again, don't call him out-)
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TOJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
acts of service and gift giving! (home made gifts bc bro BROKE!)
✎ ok so we know the dude's kinda a jackass but he does NOT skip out on just randomly giving you just absolutely HIDEOUS homemade gifts.
✎ like? how does he even MAKE them so ugly ?? isn't he good with his hands....??
✎ anywayyy, he'd probably kill anyone(like, actually kill them-) if they ever tried insulting the fact you gave him an ugly stuffed animal that you said reminded you of him
✎ like "why does a grown ass man have a stuffed animal of an ugly monkey...?" then boom, they just got punched in the face
✎ do NOT interrupt this dude when it comes to anything you need. he may be pretty 'cold hearted' but he strikes me as the kinda guy to just stand in front of you if you even slightly squinted from the sun.
✎ he'd get a fucking plank of wood if there was a puddle so you don't ruin those new shoes you've been so excited to get.
✎ so tldr; he'd grovel for you for SURE- and if anyone questions if he loves you they're going home with a black eye 🥰
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YUTA'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation/physical touch!
✎ ok let's be completely honest here- the dude's just everything starved. So when the two of you started dating (with A LOT of long months of convincing Rika to not obliterate your entire bloodline-),
✎ he was basically just all over you- though it did take a while for him to actually realize it was OK to want to touch you, that you actually liked it, that you weren't just pretending to enjoy it to spare his feelings or something.
✎ as much as he loves going out on dates with you (he'd spend all the money in the world just to see how your eyes sparkle whenever he buys you a new dessert you've been wanting to try-)
✎ his ideal thing would just be the two of you- his head on your chest listening to your steady heartbeat as you caressed his hair- your nails scratching at his scalp every now and then.
✎ and there's been MANY times he's just started crying into your chest while you hold him- just because you remind him how much you love him, how proud of him you were- you would go on and on for hours if it's what he needed to hear.
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TOGE'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation!
✎ he just needs to know it's okay that he can't talk to you- that it's okay that at night when the two of you are alone holding each other close that it's enough that he's just there with you.
✎ toge loves whenever you compliment him- especially when it's about the marks on his face/tongue.
✎ the way you'll pull down the zipper of his uniform just to plant a kiss against each of his cheeks makes him melt.
✎ compliment him on literally everything please! he loves it so much and it means so much to him- like way more than you could imagine
✎ sometimes(ok, basically nightly-) he'll just be laying in bed, flushed face in his hands while he repeats the compliment you'd given him that particularly made him want to just get on one knee and propose on the spot
✎ I stg this guy is just a big baby- hold him and tell him it's ok and that's all he needs to make his day better tenfold.
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YUJI'S love language would be 🥁🥁
physical touch!
✎ I feel like it's so obvious that if you spot him from the corner of your eye you better believe he's about to full sprint to you in excitement and squeeze the ever loving SHIT out of you
✎ he's a spinner for sure- picks you up, spins you around just to hear how you giggle before complaining about how he's making you dizzy
✎ there's rarely a moment where he doesn't just want to squeeze the hell out of your cheeks, and he just fuckn LOVES to squeeze both his and your cheeks together while he tightly hugs you.
✎ if you're in bed together his face is always buried in your shoulder, laying gentle kisses against your skin.
✎ if he isn't being gentle and loving with his kisses he just grabs you by your cheeks and just SMOTHERS your face with kisses.
✎ also he thinks it's really funny to steal some lipstick from either you or nobara just to run up to you and put a FAT kiss against your forehead- leaving a hard to get off mark lasting for hours
✎ he insists on using the waterproof ones because he thinks it's funny to see you walking around with a mark on your forehead because of him-
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SATORU'S love language would be 🥁🥁
gift giving(as if that wasn't obvious enough- rich lil asshole)
✎ he does NOT care where you are, what you're doing- NADA
✎ he's runnin' up to you just to shove a shopping bag in your face and proudly putting his hands on his hips while he waits for you to open it.
✎ a few times you were too busy to open one of his gifts and he literally just opened it right in front of you and went "LOOK! LOOK, IT'S THAT BRACELET YOU WANTED- LOOKKK!" like a toddler trying to get his mom's attention.
✎ it always ends in a giggle and a "you need to stop buying these things, you're enough of a gift as is."
✎ he'll pretend to listen but at this point you know better than to believe he'll genuinely stop giving you random shit that reminded him of you.
✎ like what do you mean this ugly shirt that was WAYY too expensive that's also too big reminded him of you??
✎ what do you MEAN you had a mental breakdown because the shirt is a light color and you spilled wine on it and there was a stain that didn't want to come out-
✎ so tldr; DON'T LOOK AT SOMETHING IN THE WINDOW OF A SHOP. HE WILL BUY THE FUCKING STORE-
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SUGURU'S love language would be 🥁🥁
words of affirmation/gift giving receiving-
✎ he's on his hands and knees for you- NOPE- don't care if he's supposed to be the leader of this wacky ass cult- you're the only person who's aloud to even remotely give him any sort of order to do somethin'
✎ he likes to give you gifts also, but barely to the extent of Satoru- he prefers handmade gifts over anything store bought. But that's just because he's used to everyone buying him whatever he wishes.
✎ so it's a really nice change of pace whenever you bring him a new origami animal you've been trying to master.
✎ he even has a little table by where he sits up on the little stage, your little art projects resting on them as "beautiful decorations done by my lover."
✎ ^ that's what he says anytime someone asks them about it. he'll happily ramble about how excited you were to gift him each one.
✎ he's addicted to praise, it's actually kinda crazy at this point-
✎ you made a breakfast a small child could've made? he's kissing the ground you walk on for blessing him with a meal in the morning-
✎ plus- if you ever do anything for the girls just know he's about to give you an amazing gift- that gift being his cock while he overly praises your motherly actions.
✎ maybe he'll make you an actual mother just to see how much your loving actions change..
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M.LIST!
168 notes · View notes
bullet-prooflove · 2 days
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Pretty Young Thing: Angel Reyes x Reader (NSFW)
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Tagging: @kmc1989 @witches-unruly-heart @keyweegirlie @trhett21 @annetje @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @thatonesexycancerian @weiwei02100 @anime-weeb-4-life @harperdoodle @cheyrenee @fanfic-n-tabulous @deliriousfangirl61 @@daydreaming-belle @est1887 @thanossexual @creativitybeware @librarian1002 @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @wnbweasley @spookyboogyuniverse @skyesthebomb @spaghettificationandpretzels @joyfulfxckery @nu1freakshow @thebaileybugle @legally-a-bastard @bonsaijoons @justreblogginfics
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It’s Taza’s fault.
Ever since the other man had revealed that he preferred ass over pussy, Angel can’t stop thinking about it. He’s done anal before, but he’s always been the giver, never the receiver. What makes it worse is that Taza refuses to any of his questions.
“What does it feel like?” He’d asked the other man as he slide into the seat across from him and Taza had laughed before saying.
“Why don’t you talk to that pretty, young thing of yours and find out?”
He broaches the topic whilst the two of you are doing the dishes in the kitchen. Felipe’s playing with Valeria in the living room, so he knows he won’t be overheard.
“I can’t get it out of my head.” He mutters, his hip bumping against yours as the two of you lean back against the work surface. “What if I’m missing something? I mean a lot of guys do it right? So, it must feel good.”
“Do you want to try it?” You ask him, drying the last plate before handing it to him.
He bobs his head from side to side in indecision, it’s a big step even for Angel.
“Let’s experiment a little first.” You suggest. “Go slow, see if you like it.”
It starts with a finger. The two of you are getting hot and heavy later that night, trying to keep things quiet because Valeria is in the next room and Felipe down the hall. You’ve become savants at it at this point, your trysts stifled by hands and pillows. You’re a tease tonight, it’s becoming more and more frequent over the last few weeks because since you’ve been shot you need to regain some assemble of control and if Angel’s honest, he needs to lose it.
When your lubed up fingers trace around his hole, he’s surprised to find he likes it. It’s a sensitive area and you’re an expert at reading him, you can tell he wants a little more from the way his hips arch trying to take your finger. The sound he makes when you enter him, it’s loud and you have to clap your free hand over his mouth to silence him. He gets off on that because his Reina, she always takes care of him, she knows exactly what he needs.
“Touch yourself.” You command and fuck, if he doesn’t obey.
You take him apart slowly, adding another finger, stretching him as you brush over that deviant little spot the one that makes his hips buck and his dick twitch. You can tell he’s close, his movements become more frantic, his breath more ragged. The ecstasy, it’s intense, more intense than Angel has ever felt before. It tears through Angel like an IED exploding through his synapses. Your palm presses down over his mouth even harder as Angel becomes completely untethered.
“You liked that.” You murmur after you’ve washed up, your lips brushing over the corner of his mouth.
The two of you are tangled up in one another, your fingertips ghosting along his cheekbone as he holds you close.
“Felt good.” He mumbles drowsily. He feels so relaxed right now, so loved so cared for. It reminds him of the days before the shooting, before Valeria, when the two of you were just a little wild. It’s been a while since he’s had that feeling, that he hasn’t felt burdened by the weight of his responsibilities.
“You want to try a little more next time?”
He smiles against your mouth, his lips claiming yours.
“I’ll book a hotel.”
***
It feels like the first time that Angel took you to bed. You take care of him the same way as you did back then, with teasing caresses and heated lips that chase over his erogenous zones. It leaves him relaxed and wanting, his dick leaking as you kiss him everywhere but the one place, he needs you too. He whines when you pull away, unwilling to relinquish the contact. You shush him, your lips brushing over his sweetly as you smear lube over the black strap on you’re wearing.
“Don’t worry my Angel, I’ll give you what you need.”
You love seeing him like this, so wanton, so desperate. You enter him slowly, and he takes you inch by inch until the toy brushes over his prostate and he moans like a fucking whore. You dip your head low, your mouth covering his as your thumb ghosts along the line of his jaw. It grounds him, anchoring him in the moment as you begin to move in languid strokes, each one leaving him breathless.
There’s a relief in the sensation, to be the one taken, instead of taking. He didn’t realise how much he needed it until this moment, how much he craved it.
“Harder.” He mutters. “Fuck me like you mean it.”
“You’re sure?” You ask him and he takes your hand, guiding it up to his throat.
“Remind me who I belong to, Mi Reina.” He whispers. “Make me believe I’m yours.”
You absolutely ruin him.
You fuck him hard, your hand squeezing his throat until the edges of his vision turn black and his cock throbs. Everytime, you release him he whines because he can taste nirvana, it’s there just out of reach but you won’t let him touch it.
“Please…” He pleads as the ecstasy surges up through his veins, setting every single one of his nerve endings ablaze.
“Oh Angel, you beg so pretty.” You tell him, that sinful smile crossing your features. “How can I deny my good boy anything?”
Those words…
He feels the flush creeping up his cheeks because Angel, he’s never been the good anything. It taps into something deep inside his psyche, heightens the intimacy as your hand drifts down to his cock, your thumb spreading pre-cum over the tip. You jerk him off in time with your thrusts, each one taking him right to the precipice.
The air rushes out of his chest as the pleasure hits him, it overwhelming, the way it tears through his synapses like a wildfire burning up his sanity. He’s loud when he comes, so fucking loud the guy in the next room bangs on the fucking wall. Angel doesn’t give a shit because the euphoria that’s racing through his system, it’s like a narcotic.
He whines as you withdraw from his body, he feels empty and overwrought in the moment but then you’re back by his side in an instant, the toy discarded. He moans as your hands trail over his sensitive skin, soothing and tender. You kiss his lips and he’s flooded with a sense of security that he has never felt with any other person.
The next day he sits down across from Taza as the other man flicks through a newspaper with his reading glasses on. He glances up, taking stock of the expression on Angel’s face, before a smile ghosts across his lips.
“You tried it.” He says, turning the next page.
“I owe you a beer.” Angel mutters, sliding one of the two bottles he’s brought over towards Taza. “You know for the advice.”
“Why don’t you talk to that pretty, young thing of yours and find out?”
Taza smiles before he picks up the beer and takes a sip.
“Honestly Angel, you don’t owe me a damn thing.”
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61 notes · View notes
nthspecialll · 13 hours
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We have all seen the edits and drawings of Dutch with "I'm your man" by Mitiski, more specifically with the lyrics "you believe me like a god, I betray you like a man," but it is not just those lyrics that fits Dutch and practically the entirety of the gang.
(Warning I am not a huge Mitiski fan so I will just take the lyrics as they are without any deeper meaning and compare them to red dead to give them a deeper meaning)
While the whole "you believe me like a god" might make it sound like the "me" also sees themselves as a god as well or at least superior to the other party, that is not the case.
"You're an angel, I'm a dog
Or you're a dog and I'm your man."
This part hints at confusion between standing of the two parties. The "I" isn't sure about what their position is with the other party, either the "you" is an angel and themselves a dog, someone lesser, something lesser, or the "I" is a man and the "you" a dog. The "I" never put themselves as something eternal, they never claim to be unworldly or godly, instead they willingly put themselves underneath the "you" and only above them in the same way a man would an animal, a dynamic that while it might hold love also is clear on who is in control.
Dutch and Arthur's dynamic is constantly changing. On one hand, Arthur is a workhorse, the one Dutch sends our for his dirty work, the one Dutch knows he can control and make him do anything, on the other hand we have their family dynamic of Dutch saying that Arthur means more to him than what a son would and acting as if he is the best thing ever.
"You believe me like a god
I'll destroy you like I am."
While the "I" never sees themselves superior, the "you" puts the "I" on a pedestal, making them their god and the "I" takes advantage of that and destroys the "you." This is similar to Dutch and Arthur. Dutch was not a good man ever, while he and the others did do their Robinhood act, they were never good men, they killed, they robbed and they ruined, but Arthur saw Dutch as a god or a father more than a mere mentor and Dutch ruined Arthur for that in the end.
"I'm sorry I'm the one you love
No one will ever love me like you again."
The "I" knows they are bad, they know they are ruining the other and they know that they will never get the loyalty that the "you" gave them again. While this might not seem like Dutch and Arthur, it very much is in the end.
Dutch in the end when Arthur is dying seems angry, frustrated and conflicted, because while he is seeing his son dying, he knows there is something he does not know. While he feels angry that Arthur did what he did, he never did think Arthur was a "betrayer", he thought John was, he thought John was talking to the Pinkertons and had convinced Arthur that Dutch was bad. He felt sad that Arthur was dying because of John and his manipulation and he knows he will never find the loyalty Arthur gave him again from anyone, and he is right, even in 1911, he has yet to find someone like Arthur.
"So when you leave me, I should die
I deserve it, don't I?"
I am of the firm belief that Dutch spent a long while alone after Arthur's death because the newspapers while talking of him, do not mention another gang, only the old one, and in red dead one they speak as if Dutch's gang is fairly new which would also explain why the Agents were suddenly able to locate him, because he became active again.
This could be to lay low, or it could be because he was thinking over what he had done and what had happened, and considering how much Arthur meant to him it wouldnt be strange to say he might have spent some years in self hatred or pity.
"I can feel it gettin' near
Like flashlights comin' down the way
One day you'll figure me out
I'll meet judgment by the hounds."
This is where it gets a bit more tricky because I believe the "you" changes here, where "you" were Arthur before, it can now be seen as John.
In 1911 John is hunting down Javier and Bill, something Dutch no doubt knew and heard about, while he might have hoped to be able to defeat John, he would have known that John would come for him and he would be able to "see him come near" as he kills off the two others. Dutch knows one day John will be his end, one day John will figure him out and he will have to face the consequences of his actions.
"People always gave me love
Others were never to blame after all."
This is quite obvious how it comes to Dutch, they gave Dutch everything, they gave him their lives to lay if he so wish and in the end it was not their fault that the gang split up. No it was not Micah's fault, while Micah did manipulate, he never forced Dutch's hand, even without Micah Dutch would have lost himself down the road, it was in the end Dutch's fault.
"You believe me like a god
I'll betray you like a man."
John loved Dutch, maybe even more than Arthur, after all John is often seen as Dutch's son while Arthur is seen as Hosea's, not just by the fandom but the characters as well. We see characters call John Dutch's golden boy and his pet. It was also Arthur who had to convince John and truly let him see what Dutch was doing, to let him know that the concerns he had were true.
Dutch removed the noose from John's neck when John was twelve, saving him like a miracle, yet Dutch shot at John in the end like he was no one special, just another man to be put in the ground.
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descendant-of-truth · 5 months
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Tumblr media
"What I want... is to stay here."
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vixenicks · 29 days
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gonna be annoying in the tags
#i have never understood the character = actor thing#like genuinely i dont fucking get it at all#if anything i think it both discredits the actors effort and the people that actually created the medias efforts#actors very rarely have anything to do with the characters creation nor do they have anything to do with a character outside of portraying#them like tbh i feel like its a massive insult to the work that goes into acting and writing#plus i just dont really care for actors personally#but thats just a me thing#idk!!! charlie cox does not equal matt murdock he had nothing to do with creating matt murdock#or like cillian murphy as jonathan crane#i dont like jonathan crane because he looks like cillian murphy i just like jonathan crane#like yeah he did a great job with acting in the trilogy and portrayed him great#but cillian murphy doesnt have any of the traits i like in jonathan crane idgaf about that guy aside from like two roles hes done#i dont know man#i just feel like itd be shitty to put months or years into the creation of media#into method acting and portraying these characters with the help of writers and directors#just for characters to not be acknowledged as seperate from their actors#idk. like jonathan crane is played by cillian murphy they have the same face whatever#but that is in no way shape or form the same guy at ALLLLL#idk. also fucks with fandom portrayals of characters#i.e booktok white women projecting poorly written smut onto every middle aged man ever#like you dont look at animated media and equate that character to their VA why would you do it for live action shit#you dont look at writers work and equate their characters to themselves#uuugggggghhhhh#plus i think the film idustry in general tends to give actors too much credit for the creation of media#not to say actors do nothing because they definetly do im interested in acting myself#but brother they r not the ones that direct and write and edit and sound mix and all this other shit#skyler posting#soigh#anyways
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crow-with-a-book · 2 months
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I got to meet Amir Talai this weekend! And Kaiji Tang, Ray Chase, and Lex Lang which was actually really neat.
Like social anxiety is just man I could never have the confidence to do this. Also me: small talk with voice actors because hey they're just people. It's so weird.
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keeps-ache · 24 days
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mm i Neeed to go the beach
#just me hi#wauhuhh !#something about just drifting around in water that i am slightly scared of that really makes my brain whir happily lol :>#i am slightly scared of it for two major reasons: 1) fish. lord the fish why are they so scary 2) sometimes i think i'll drown and they jus#won't find the body. which is less rational than the fish so that's why fish is my number 1 fear at all times lmao#/i think out of all the animals on the planet i am the most scared of ordinary fish. not even the deep sea stuff hfbshv#cuz look they're so far down there you Have to assume they look funked. and also they prolly don't like human meat. so it's cool#but regular fish?? some of them eat birds. they eat birds dude. what would they do to me if they knew how to use harpoons??#also they for SURE eat corpses so we loop back to fear no. 2 really just being fear no. 1 hbfhs#/see i'm not even that scared of the animals my parents are determined on exploding. like man if i get eaten that was prolly bound#to happen anyway. i Know how that goes. i know what mauling is lol#i am the only person in this house who will walk around outside on a moonless light w/ no flashlight because if i was sposed to be dead i#can guaranteE there are much better opportunities. funnier ones‚ too#/just looked it up bobcats are SHY little guys. they are just shy babies. except for when they have rabies :)#shy rabies babies <3#/anyway back to the fish. i don't like how there are some that specifically like to eat human skin. mmm no i have never liked that ever not#one little bit. makes my skin crawl hghfsh#i don't care what it does or can do that is NOT cool lil dude ;w;#/hang on i'm googling 'weirdest things fish eat' because i want to scare myself i guess hbfhvbsf :'3#they're only showing me weird fish!!! no !! tell me about a fish that's living exclusively off of plastics!! or car tires !! come on !!!#these guys are just funky looking. and just Kinda funky looking. though this humphead guy is funny lol :)#he looks scary but with a charm that i can't deny#his forehead. and mouf. this guy is awesome#and of course he's endangered because the world is exploding. but it's so cool he exists :D#//anyway fish are scary. and miss humphead is Huge so goofiness aside he's also scary hhfbvs#also why do some of those motherfunkers swim close to shore and bite at you. those guys suck so bad#that's only happened to me so many times but enough for me to have a fear that has lasted for over half a decade lmao#//and anywho i'm running out of tag space lol :)#we're going ot the park!! i'm going to skate :DD !!#i wanna get good at my old stuff again hfsh - so bye! bye !! toodles !!!
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lesbiansanemi · 2 months
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WARNING FOR ANIMAL DEATH/MUTILATION IN THE TAGS
I think I’ve figured out why it’s the stuff with my cats that gets me the most viscerally upset when it comes to my roommate and I think I need to tell him why that is… we had a talk and he apologized for a lot of stuff but I just feel like I need to explain why I react so intensely to him hating my cats/wanting me to get rid of them
#like there’s the obvious things I’ve said before that ANY pet owner would feel the same about obvious#but like. okay I love cats. I’ve loved cats my WHOLE life#not just cats but animals in general#animals were baby’s first special interest#and I grew up on a farm and I had usually at least 8 pets at a time growing up#that I got money for by doing odd jobs and you know as a child you can spend all your money on your hobbies#and I love animals so I had pets#specifically I always had at least 3-4 cars#*cats#my mom’s first husband hated cats… fucking DESPISED them#and he talked about hating them/getting rid of them all the time#and. well. when I ever did anything to really piss him off#(which you know as a nine year old could be something as simple as breathing too loudly or some shit)#he would kill them#that man killed probably like 20 cats#cuz even after I was old enough to process ‘don’t get more cats bad things will happen to them’#my mom would bring home cats cuz she ALSO loved and wanted cats#even when I would beg her not to because I knew they were going to die#she never cared because in that moment she wanted cats#and obviously this was awful and damaging#and now that I live on my own with my two cats who are my BABIES that I love and cherish#my roommate talking about hating them and wanting them gone….#yeah it’s uh. um. hitting some really specific nerves#obviously I do not think he would EVER EVER do something like that#because you know. he’s not an insane control freak who hates me and animals#it’s still hitting those nerves#and yeah I think I need to tell him that for us to start coming to an understanding#like i get you don’t LOVE my cats you don’t have to#but you can’t talk that way about them… or I’m going to get VERY upset and defensive#kaz rambles
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dexaroth · 6 months
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godddd i WANT to like minecraft so much but theres fucking nothing going onnnnn the biomes are boring the geography is def better than was before but still theres so little variation and even then the core gameplay is just. nothing. the inventory management sucks so much ass ive straight up stopped playing vanilla without bundles and the way you progress in many areas is so dumbb like teehee go find a jungle biome that could be 200 blocks or 20000 blocks away from spawn just so you dont implode of anger trying to build something decent without wasting time on countless dirt pillars. oh and also the only things that look good are structures from the outside because furnishing stuff is practically impossible since theres no furniture. lolz
there are of course many mods that adress this sort of thing but each take it in a new direction and sometimes you just want a branch of the river yknow?
ive been trying to find datapacks for this sort of thing but it doesnt seem like they can accomplish much so it leaves everything to need to be mods.. sigh
#ive said it before and ill say it again. with the amount of creativity minecraft allows it should not be the type of game you need >#>to pump full of mods to flesh out#literally the most basic thing. a pixel. now make it 3d. it doesnt get easier than that to add things to! for fucks sake!!#i keep considering learning how to make datapacks or resource packs to add my own stuff to it#but then i remember. whats the point in building a house if danger can be avoided entirely by spamming torches everyone#literally the only two things you ever need to worry about is a basic ass food meter -> just kill animals#and health -> make everythign sun bright and have an automatic beef cooker for if you do lose health#AND THEN WHAT MY GUY. THEN WHAT!!!!!!!!!!#god everytime i think about mc i feel like making a mod myself but then it loses any personal value bc you know how everything works#and you'd have to test the shit out of it too so at one point it solidifies in your memory and poof. it aint new anymore#i hate this game with the fiery passion of someone who knows how great it could be. it hurts so much. *whimper*#i was gonna say it almost surpasses the pain i have for what watchdogs could have been but wd is a much smaller scale#and its like. sad. but i genuinely feel angry at how basic minecraft is. i look at it and go are you fucking kidding me. what the fuck man#is it too much to ask for a survival game where building a house has a fucking purpose and isnt a painful process to achieve. fkin hell#dextxt
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werewolfbneimitzvah · 1 month
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vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.
First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.
Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.
And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?
And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.
a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.
Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.
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kentopedia · 5 months
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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.
so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.
still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.
the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.
he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.
because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.
it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.
naturally, no one came back twice.
he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.
though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.
by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.
by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.
on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.
he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.
“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”
“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“
but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.
“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”
a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”
though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.
“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“
“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”
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birdantlers · 9 months
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A heartfelt and grievously expanded-upon update to this—please, please read the whole thing if you can. reblogs much appreciated.
(DISCLAIMER, for all who are saying reasons like abusive parents/legal stuff/toxic ex/triggering memories/page got deleted/job/stalkers/bullying/[[insert any other shitty life thing]], This is not concerning that—personal safety & health ALWAYS comes first, and is worth more than any media ever could be. This is my biggest reason for defending that autonomy. I would be a hypocrite to say I hadn’t deleted triggering posts of mine or ones that got me in trouble with my family.)
it genuinely makes me sad and kinda upset when someone purges all their old art off the internet like. barring harmful content what if someone liked that. What if someone would have. And now nobody will ever know and it's just gone. even people's old invader zim askblogs or whatever getting deleted feels like a micro alexandria to me and that's just something I made up. I wasn't even thinking of a specific one it just stresses me out. Is this the autism I don't get why nobody else seems to freak internally abt it like I do. I see artists whose blogs I've never even looked at go like "man so glad I deleted all my old stuff it's so clean" or saying they throw out art from when they were kids I'm like. how are you not hurling. How is that not distressing that is literally your tree rings why would you do that. I want to see what's out there. people want to see it I promise someone out there likes it
...don't they??? Does everyone get quietly irrationally upset by this as me, or is this just hyperfixation/autism/some amalgam of the two. I'm not a hoarder or obsessive compulsive or anything like that so i wonder..
Anyways. reblog if you had a favorite amateur youtube animator in your childhood whose channel got nuked without a trace one day that you still think about.
I wanted to attach this video because it condenses my point very well. A TLDR of sorts. Please watch the whole thing, it genuinely changed the entire way I think about art as a concept.
(2nd vid is "Subjectivity in Art")
“The moment your art touches an audience, the ownership shifts in an irreversible way. [They're] not having an art experience with you and your intentions. They're having an art experience with the art object.
“You can't just burn your past; it's not even your past to burn anymore. It's other people's history as well. Whether or not you like it, that art is already bonded to somebody's soul, and if you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it.”
The digital age makes it very easy to distance or detach yourself from the impact your work has—be it art, fanfic, videos, even memes. Online content is as important to people now as any other media, if not more. But it's also by far the easiest, fastest, and most effective form of it to erase from public access. Media so unbelievably important to people and in general. Yes, you—with the 2010s purple sparkle dog speedpaint. I still think about that speedpaint all the time, because it was the first time i learned that you could draw on a computer, and I thought it was cool as hell. I still do.
I do wish there was a stronger culture of preservation and consideration for this, because every time I see people talk about snuffing their stuff because it doesn't personally resonate with them anymore, I just think ...what about all the people it did?
I've seen lots of people saying "get over it, it doesn't even matter," but it fucking does. It does matter. Even if I didn’t make it, even if I don’t have to deal with being the one who made it, even if I'm naturally inclined to be distressed by it—It still matters. And there’s nothing you could ever say to suddenly make it not matter, because there’s nothing you could ever say to make it not matter to me.
Don't devalue the act of creation. Don't dismiss something you made. It's out there, in people's thoughts and hearts and souls, and that is real. Even if you don't know it. Especially if you don't know it. Especially in a world where physical media is being snuffed out, the internet is constantly dying without any physical remains to recover, social isolation is rampant, and simply because independently produced content online is still media.
Fanfiction can hold equal or greater significance to someone as a book, but you can’t unpublish a book. Authors don’t have a button that can vaporize every copy of their work across all time, but fanfiction authors do. I’m not counting people who download fics either—when you buy a book, that transaction is over. But online, you have the power of unending transaction that can be terminated instantly at your will. The process of publishing fanfic vs. publishing a book may be different, but people’s connection to the art is the same intensity.
So yeah. I do get depressed about the Internet being a constant Alexandria, but the times I get the most depressed is when I click someone's page and see that all their work is gone because they're ‘curating a new aesthetic’ for their page or some shit. Or weeding out all the "ugly" art. Or just went on whatever the hell 'thrill deleting' is, because they just get a kick out of it.
Fuck it—yeah! It upsets me! I’m not wrong to say that. I’m saying it!
Under the cut, because it got long as shit! Also don’t worry the ending is way sappier and more ‘beauty of human nature’ vibe so it’s not all doom and gloom lol
What if that was someone's favorite art of that character. What if someone read that 'cringe oneshot' on the worst day of their life. What if that Warriors meme vid is still burned into a college student’s mind despite being gone for 10 years. What if it's actually not just you and the ones and zeros you rent out to the world—secure in knowing the original will always be on your computer for you to do whatever you want with it.
I really, deeply wish there was more of a general awareness of this, because even though social media can be used like a diary, that’s functionally the opposite of what it is. It’s social media. When you post, it’s no longer in a vacuum, even though you can’t see the real humans that content touches—often deeply.
Media is history. You shouldn’t burn that history just because you personally believe it isn’t worth saving.
Because it’s no longer just your personal opinion. It’s no longer just your personal work. it’s. history. Memory of media is not a suitable replacement for the media itself. If it was, we wouldn’t save anything at all. Nostalgia is an agent of that. The definition of nostalgia is grief for moments of the past that are inaccessible, and the biggest balm for that pain is accessing a physical reminder of those moments. That opinion of yours is no longer personal. It’s weighed against uncountable people across all time that your thing is ALSO personal to. People who would, and will mourn its absence.
How many times have you joined an older fandom only to discover that some of its most popular works are gone? How many times have you routed through random blogs looking for scraps people hopefully reblogged? how many times have you used Wayback machine desperately praying that a fan fiction or a YouTube video will be there? How many times do you look up crunchy old vines or YouTube videos or anime AMV‘s? How many times do you remember old fanfic.net sex that impacted you in middle school, only to shake your head and go ‘probably no point even looking.’
i mourn the absence. No, people can’t and shouldn’t have their agency over what they post revoked, but they should be conscious of that weight. If you’re reading this and getting extremely annoyed, and you’re not in the pink text above,,,, good.
I honestly do hope it gets under your skin. I hope it sits with you. I hope you feel it every time you hit that button, and whether or not you do hit that button—if you hesitate, if you remember this, even spitefully, I’ve done my job. I am howling into the void. And I may not want an answer, but I do want my anguish to be heard and remembered. Because it isn’t me just being melodramatic.
I know I sound that way writing so much, but if my favorite writing YouTuber can drop trow this week and go, "yeah, sorry, all my video essays from less than a year ago that you listen to in the car all the time? I'm "rebranding" my content so i deleted them. besides, my personal views don't really agree align with the analyses i did, or the techniques i taught in them anyway. Sorry if some of the literal tens of thousands of you used them, but I don't want to feel shackled to having youtuber "classics" tied to me”
….then i guess I'm just going to have to sound dramatic! That fucking sucks! Hours of work and knowledge gone! This was a new channel too. It’s very likely there’s no archive of any kind, because who would think someone who worked hard enough to write, record, and edit hour-long videos, would just turn around and nuke it all? I definitely didn’t see it coming, but I did just start a new screenwriting class a few weeks ago, so I’ll tell you at least one person is REALLY missing those fucking videos right now. Because a lot of them were about specifically screenwriting, which I know jack shit about. and that specific person’s pace, editing, and style of breaking down information was the best suited style I found that I could focus on and absorb. There’s no replacement for that. No alternative for his individual perspective. his jokes. his opinions.
No, they may not resonate with him now, but in this decision, he’s put up a big middle finger to everyone who might have. And he has like 100k subscribers! Those are confirmed supporters! Imagine how many silent and untethered observers are feeling this loss right now. Imagine how many will not have it in the future.
If he never posted them at all, we wouldn’t know we had it. It wouldn’t be a loss. But we did. We did have it. Until he decided that no, we didn’t, because he just happens to be the one out of millions of individuals holding the button to burn it in a hundredth of a second.
His personal work, the attachment I had to it, and the ways that it helped me are now just ripped away. I am one person out of millions, literal MILLIONS of people who saw and liked this content before it vanished. The soul has been ripped, the access severed, and by CJ’s (and my) definition, the art is functionally dead. Not for the YouTuber or anyone else lucky enough to save a link or download, but everyone else. From this point until the end of time, even if people even two weeks from now don’t know it. Even if someone who stumbles upon his channel today, doesn’t know it.
We only mourn the concept of Alexandria because we had some kind of scope for what was inside. Yes, maybe you got self-conscious and deleted your 12 year old deviant art account. Do you know who else is doing that?? THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS of other twenty somethings who ALSO feel self-conscious about their old socials. Art. Fanfic. One direction fan videos. anything.
Suddenly, an unquantifiable amount of information from your age group—an entire age group in 2012, is. gone. And we will NEVER know what’s been erased from that history. We will NEVER know what could have been significant to us ten years from now. Twenty years from now. A hundred years. A thousand.
You could have deleted a fanfic that would have been someone else’s new go-to panic attack distraction tomorrow. You could have deleted a video someone used to laugh at with their friend who died yesterday. When you delete something, you risk tearing a hole in unknowable personal histories.
The Internet isn’t just a big library of Alexandria. It’s a library containing libraries. And those libraries have their own libraries in those libraries have their own as well. libraries inside libraries, inside libraries, ad infinitum. To conceive the amount of destroyed history on the Internet is crushing.
And I just can’t help but I ask myself how in gods name people can choose to contribute to that, instead of reposting everything to trash heap alts titled “hall of shame” or some shit.
You can offload to alts. Put up disclaimers. Make password locked blogs, or dropboxes, or anonymous imgur dumps. Anonymous reuploads. Orphan fics. Make a playlist or linktree of unlisted videos. Cut off the watermarks. Delete all references to it on your main. Make a dedicated unlisted playlist. make a google drive. Make new portfolio sites. Delete any questions you get about it. Change pen names. Pretend it never existed.
Give a heads up.
Something.
But don’t. kill. the media.
The knowledge that our stuff is going to forever be tied to us is a cross we have to bear, but the responsibility that comes with putting it out there in the first place, can’t be ignored.
Anyway. I'm not trying to start conflict. This is not a bash on anyone, nor a call for witch hunts. Or anon hate, or blocks and unfollows or anything of that nature. I'm not wishing ramifications or hate of any kind on anyone who does wants to do any of this.
I'm also not guilt tripping— I am not saying that you should feel bad. I AM saying why it makes me feel bad. That’s not guilting, it’s a dialogue. One I personally feel is long overdue.
It's me yelling into the void: please consider the real people on the other side of the screen before you hit that button. Realize and know that whatever you're about to erase from history could be the most important thing in the world to someone.
Art is an experience. It's why we revisit it. If art and history simply lived in the matter and code of media, we would only need to look at it once. We wouldn’t put things in museums. We wouldn’t build libraries. We wouldn’t look up vine compilations.
If you're able, consider (and I do mean consider, this is not a call to action) not destroying that. And don’t shrug it off as some pretentious asshole venting on Tumblr. You only need to look in the notes and tags to see that it isn’t just me. it’s never just me, or you, or the pixels.
And even if you do shrug it off, then at least recognize that what you make matters. Whatever you think about it, if it’s out there, that's not your discretion anymore. If a tree falls in the woods and even one person is around to see it, it fucking mattered. Because it happened. Don’t mulch your tree rings if you don’t have to. Because if enough people do it, a whole forest is gone. Media is history, no matter whether you think it’s worth putting in a museum, or only has 30 notes.
Thousands of years ago, a child named onfim doodled on his homework. They’re crude, and everyone has the wrong amount of fingers, and they’re also priceless archaeological artifacts recognizable throughout the world.
the only thing separating Onfim’s doodles and your MS paint Pokémon doodles is time. The only thing separating your old MS paint Pokémon doodles from being a priceless artifacts, thousands of years in the future is time. Your creations are already priceless artifacts. No matter what you do, don't ever, ever deny that. It isn’t blowing up your own ass, it’s artistic and anthropological fact.
The mundane and the supposedly unworthy are often the first things lost to time, and that’s why they’re so precious. That’s why artists who were before their time are scorned first only to be celebrated later. Do you think they knew that was going to happen?? What if they nuked it? Many probably did! But now that’s happening exponentially and instantaneously everywhere, WITHOUT the artist having to destroy their only copy—which makes it way easier and more dismissable.
Sometimes, If you’re revolutionary enough, people will make an effort to preserve your work, but recognized and thoroughly recorded work is rare compared to unrecognized and thoroughly recorded work.
Sometimes something is beloved enough that it would be impossible for it not to go down in history, but even then it isnt a guarantee, and it’s rare. But if van Gogh burned all of his paintings in a fit of despair before his death, we would have no van Gogh. Because he wasn’t respected as an artist in his time, but that wasn’t what defined the worth of his art. The people after him did, because his art was still there for them.
If you rip the art away, you're ripping a bit of the soul that has adhesive contact to it. If you belittle your art, you belittle the very real relationships and emotions and revisitations people have with the media. You defy the inherent worth and weight of a creation. you created. That's effort. It's passion. No matter how flippant or unskilled or worthless you think it is, it matters. Because at the end of the day, you could have chosen to make nothing at all, and you didn't.
Muting notifs
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yuujispinkhair · 11 months
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Tribe leader/Viking Sukuna headcanons
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After seeing this fanart, a sweet anon sent me this prompt: "Imagine that you are a simple girl in another tribe who attracted the leader Sukuna who at that moment came to negotiate with the leader of your tribe, he became interested in you and decided to make you his wife and cooperate with your people. So you left with him and began to live with him and give birth to his heirs."
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Thank you so much for sending me this! When I saw the art, I was thinking of something along those lines, too! The picture reminded me of the tv show Vikings, so the following headcanons take place in that time.
Pairing: Viking!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Smut + fluff Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, arranged/forced marriage, virginity loss, blood, breeding, pregnancy, slight lactation kink, having children, miscarriage (Sukuna comforts reader afterwards. He doesn't just want her because of the heirs she can give him), general mentions of violence and human sacrifices. All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.
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+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared for his ruthlessness in battle and his strength that seems almost god-like. All the other tribes try to stay on his good side and forge alliances with him instead of giving him a reason to burn down their towns.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who looks so intimidating when he comes to visit your settlement. Tall and broad-shouldered with all those buff muscles on display and the bones of his enemies decorating his clothes.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you can't take your eyes off when you and the rest of your tribe gather in your leader's throne room and watch the negotiations. He sends shivers down your spine, but not just in a fear-inducing way, if you are honest. He is so enticing. Powerful and intelligent, and so attractive.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a beautiful man. His face is too pretty for a warrior. Not even his scars and tribal tattoos can hide his beauty. A smug smirk lifts the corners of his lips, and his voice is calm and confident. He moves gracefully like a big cat, beautiful but deadly. He is the most stunning man you have ever seen, and you hang on every word that falls from his lips as if he carries ancient magic in his voice.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose icy blue eyes scan the crowd slowly, glittering like two precious jewels in the firelight illuminating the crowded room. Your breath catches in your throat when that intense gaze lands on you. You feel like a small animal trapped in the gaze of its hunter. Should you lower your head to show him your respect? Or will he take affront if you dare to look at anything else but him?
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes the decision away from you when he smirks at you and laughs softly before he turns his attention back to your leader.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who announces his conditions for a peace treaty in a confident, demanding tone. The voice of a man who is used to getting what he wants. A man who knows he is too powerful to get turned down.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who suddenly points a long tattoed finger at you and speaks the words that will flip your whole world upside down, "And I want her."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your heart drop with his demand, but all you can do is stare at him in a mix of fear and excitement. A murmur runs through the crowd, and already, several hands are pressing against your back, shoving you towards Sukuna, making you stumble and screech as you are about to fall at his feet.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who catches you before you hit the ground, his muscular arms holding you easily, an amused smirk lighting up his handsome face, light blue eyes glittering in amusement as he drawls teasingly, "Aww, someone's eager to become my little wife, huh?"
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you sit on his lap that evening when a big feast is held in his honor and to seal the peace treaty with your tribe. You barely dare breathe, full of fear as you sit on his strong, muscled thighs, gasping when one of his large hands wanders under your skirt to squeeze your thigh possessively.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has two of his men stand guard in front of your door so no one will attack his future wife or maybe to prevent you from sneaking away. But you aren't even sure you want to run from him. Who are you here in your current tribe anyway? Just another orphan who grew up to help on one of the farms. Isn't this new role much more important? To be the bride of Ryomen Sukuna? To be a means that allows your tribe to prosper and ensures peace and trade with Sukuna?
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large hand has a firm, unrelenting grip on your arm as he leads you to his horse the next morning. But he lets you say goodbye to all your loved ones, taking their blessings and well wishes with you before your future husband helps you onto his horse.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is such a rough man, but whose hands are surprisingly gentle when he lifts you onto the back of his giant horse. He sits behind you, his firm muscles pressing against your back, rippling with every move he makes. His muscular buff arms cage you in, keeping you captive or keeping you safe. You can't tell which one of the two it is.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes a conflict rage in your chest. On the one hand, you are scared of this dangerous big man who has the power to just demand to have you as if you are some cattle. On the other hand, you can't deny that small hidden part of you that feels excited that such a powerful and attractive man desires you enough to want to make you his wife.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes your pulse flutter nervously when you feel his strong arms around you and hear him order his men around with his low, velvety voice, telling them to find a good resting place for the night.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses you roughly on that first night. His large hands that cup your face are calloused, but his lips are warm, and his tongue is soft and so skilled when he pries your mouth open and licks into it. It's nothing like the shy, clumsy kisses you shared with the boys in your settlement. Sukuna is a feared warrior, a powerful tribe leader, someone who people believe is actually the son of a god. And you can feel all that in his kiss. Deep and intense, making your head spin and your body brim with a desire you have never felt before.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rides with you again the next day and trails teasing kisses down your neck to pass the time during the long ride. You are sure he is fully aware of what he is doing to you. How he makes your heart race and makes a mix of fear and arousal throb in your veins. Especially when he grabs your chin to tilt your face up and capture your lips in a heated, wet kiss, licking unashamedly into your mouth in front of his men, showing everyone that you are his.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who whispers in your ear, "Are you scared of me, my little wife?" and then breaks out in loud, barking laughter when you exhale shakily and tell him, "Only a fool wouldn't be scared of you... but maybe I am also flattered that you picked me, my lord."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who still chuckles while his tongue licks a lazy stripe up the side of your neck, and he huskily tells you, "I am not a lord. I am a god. And I saw a goddess right there in that shabby throne room. I had to take you with me. It was a sign from the gods. You will give me such strong and beautiful children. Together, we can conquer the whole world."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who forces himself to keep his hands off you before your wedding night as a show of respect to the gods, but who lets you feel his desire for you when he hugs you from behind and presses his hardness against you once you have moved into his house.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who has you dressed in the finest garments for your wedding day. A beautiful red dress lined with gorgeous white ermine fur that was specifically made for you. Your neck, wrists, and ears are decorated with glittering gold and precious gemstones.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who makes you squeal when he swoops you up into his muscular arms and carries you into the ceremony hall, accompanied by the loud cheers of his people. Your hand is shaking when you exchange wedding rings with him, but you stay brave, speaking your vows and taking Sukuna's heavy sword when he offers it to you as his promise to protect you.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who sacrifices several of his enemies to the gods to ask for their blessings for your marriage and your fertility. He looks scary with the pattern painted onto his face with fresh blood. But at the same time, it makes him look feral in a way that makes an unknown heat throb between your legs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shares his food and mead with you on the decadent feast held after the wedding ceremony, where you sit on the throne next to his. One of his strong arms stays wrapped around your waist the whole evening, and the deep glances he sends your way make your skin tingle with anticipation.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who takes your virginity that night, making you cry out in pain when his thick cock splits you open for the first time. But his lips silence your cry, and soon you make other noises. Loud moans of pleasure fall from your lips as your new husband moves inside you with deep and sure thrusts that hit a spot inside you that makes you scratch the broad muscles of his back and arch up against Sukuna's huge body. Your cunt throbs around his cock as you find the sweetest and most intense release you ever had.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who afterward pushes two of his long fingers into your used cunt to push his seed back into you, leaning down to kiss you savagely and murmuring in your ear that he wants to see your belly hard and swollen with his heirs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who paints his clan symbols on your face with a mix of your virginal blood and his cum, telling you that you are his forever and that you are blessed by the gods now too after taking his seed into you.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is so proud when you show the first signs of pregnancy.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who becomes extremely protective and possessive now that you carry his heir. Who worships your body every night, cupping and kissing your swollen breasts, licking at the drops of milk that already spill from them, telling you it tastes like the nectar of the gods.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose large rough hands caress your swollen belly gently, who kisses it, and talks to your unborn child, telling his son, as he predicts, that he will be born under the blessing of the gods. That he will become a great leader and a god himself one day.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is triumphant when your first child is a boy with pink hair and a strong build and loud voice. A future leader just like his father. The first heir of many more to follow.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is feared by everyone but treats his wife and newborn child with a gentleness that surprises you. He asks you to let him hold your baby and carry him in his strong arms. And the way Sukuna looks at your child tells you that he doesn't just see little Yuuji as an heir but as someone who has Sukuna's heart.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose hungry and proud gaze follows you for days until he has you under him again, fucking you with hard, deep thrusts, moaning loudly, and pumping you full of his seed over and over again. "You gave me such a strong heir, my love. I know you'll give me so many more."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who rushes to your side when you have a miscarriage during your second pregnancy. Who hugs you to his broad chest, wipes the sweat and blood off you, and cradles you in his arms.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who kisses your tears away and reassures you when you are scared he will kick you out if you won't give him more heirs.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who shakes his head and tells you, "I mourn our unborn child, but I thank the gods for not taking my beloved wife away from me too. You are more to me than just a vessel that gives birth to my heirs. You are my wife, my companion, the one who the gods sent to me as my soulmate. I love you. Even if we have no more children, I will never take a new wife."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who you see in a new light after the reassurance and love he gave you on that day. And suddenly, you find yourself falling in love with your husband, too. You treat him more tenderly. You caress his soft hair when the two of you cuddle in your bed to keep each other warm. You kiss the tattoos on his face and smile at him, your heart fluttering when Sukuna smiles back at you and pulls you into a slow, tender kiss. You will never forget the happiness in his eyes when you tell him you love him too.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who fucks you thoroughly that night until the two of you are sweating and rolling around on top of the warm furs, kissing and caressing each other needily while he fills you with his hot seed until you are overflowing from it.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is delighted when you give birth to your second child, and that child looks like the perfect mix of the two of you. He grins at you and tells you that this is clearly a child of love, conceived on the night you confessed your love to him.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who is actually a caring husband who truly treasures you. Who likes to spend his nights with you wrapped under the warm furs, making slow love while he kisses you deeply, rolling his hips with those slow, languid moves that make you sob his name and come undone so sweetly on his cock. 
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who likes to hold you in his strong arms afterward, with your head resting on his broad chest and your small fingers tracing the tattoos on his chest and abs. He loves to talk to you for hours every night, telling you all about his day, about his current worries and plans, about political things and battle tactics, trusting you with all his secrets.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, whose love fills you with warmth even on the coldest winter days. Your heart is held securely in his strong hands. And you know that no one will dare lay a hand on you or your children in fear of Sukuna's wrath. His strength and power make you feel safe here in your new home.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who teaches you how to enjoy sex to the fullest. Who teaches you how to ride his cock and his face. Who teaches you how to take from him too. Because he is your husband, and that means he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who trusts you with ruling in his place during his absence. Who declares that anyone who disrespects you will get sacrificed to the gods.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who keeps you on his thick, strong cock all night before he has to leave for one of his various exploration trips or battles, savoring you to the fullest. Making sure to fuck you so good that you will still feel him for days after he set sail.
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who pulls you into his arms one last time before he boards the ship, kissing you deep and long. And there is this burning love in his blue gaze when he tells you, "I will do anything in my power to come back to you, my love. I have the gods on my side. But if, for whatever reason, they should decide it is my time to enter Valhalla, then I want you to know that I will wait there until you join the afterlife, too, and I will come find you, no matter where you are."
+ Tribe leader Sukuna, who luckily doesn't go to Valhalla and always comes back to you with more scars on his gorgeous body but with the same love in his eyes.
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AAAHHH I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! This became much longer than I intended, but I really miss the show Vikings, and I love Viking!Sukuna to an insane amount, so it is what it is ;) This was, once again, very self-indulgent, but hopefully, some of my fellow Sukuna lovers will enjoy it too! Thank you so much to the nice anon who sent me that prompt!
Please let me know what you think. Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
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dilfsfordinner · 7 months
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honeymoon- nanami kento x wife!reader
a/n- in preparation for this week’s episode, this is my ode to my husband
warnings- fem!reader, unprotected sex, praise, missionary pos, mating press, belly bulge, nanami has a big d, implied breeding kink, fluffff
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Nanami Kento had been dreaming of a vacation. Somewhere with sand and palm trees, warm weather, the ocean, you. Now it would take a lot for him to admit this because he’s not a dreamer, per se, especially with his strict work ethic, but the amount of times he had to catch himself during a shift from drifting off in a fantasy about sleeping in or relaxing on the beach, you could say he had started to reflect his child-like self.
Except every single one of those dreams could not rival the feeling of experiencing his honeymoon with you. He’d gotten what he wanted. A private villa, surrounded by greenery with a whole rainbow of colors blessing the space. Red, orange, pink, and especially white flowers would pop out from the dense leaves of the tropical garden that was essentially your front yard, their sweet perfume just light enough to not be too overbearing. The villa was perched in a cluster of palms, the white-sand beaches of the Caribbean literally at your disposal by a pathway from your bedroom, its wood-lined trail leading down to a private oceanside cove of sand and the most vivid aquamarine water you’d ever seen.
It had been five days since the two of you had arrived at your little oasis, 120 hours of complete and utter relaxation accompanied by sheer happiness. You could barely contain your excitement for the trip when he’d announced the surprise destination a month before your wedding, and that giddiness you were once feeling was multiplied tenfold. Kento Nanami was finally your husband. The man you had fallen for was now tied to you legally and emotionally, the two of you matching with the golden bands placed upon your fingers, yours just a tad bit more extravagant with the stone you had dreamt of forged perfectly into the smooth metal.
Your favorite gift you had received though was once again from your husband. It had been given on the day of your wedding, a little white, bow-tied box placed in your hands before the reception. Upon opening it, you were met with a pretty bracelet, a twisted chain of pure platinum so uniformly perfect, you knew your husband had picked it. Your favorite part however, was the tiny charm hanging from the chain, a cursive “k” inscribed into the precious material, a clear sign of your newly wed’s hand in the purchase. “I’m yours now,” he had whispered into your hair, kissing away a stray tear from your cheek before helping you clasp the delicate chain around your wrist.
For days you had thanked him any way you could for his kindness, the two new additions he’d gifted so beautifully thoughtful, gifts that certainly garnered a lot of attention, especially when it came to some.. exerting activities.
It was like the atmosphere had turned you two into animals, your bodies sore from the endless (sorry for lack of a better word), fucking, the tension so thick you could feel it heavy in your chest, the warm, salty breeze flowing through the mesh, white curtains of your bedroom doing nothing to help calm your lustful state.
It was nearly dusk and your current session had started about an hour ago, any and every position you could think of already tried, your body turned and flipped a multitude of times before you were placed on your back again, thighs pushed up against your chest, your legs falling over your husband’s broad shoulders.
Your throat was dry from the fountain of moans constantly spilling from your mouth, Nanami’s name starting to sound like an imaginary word from the amount of times you’d choked out the syllables. Don’t be too embarrassed though because he was just as knocked as you, his skin flush from exertion, sweat dampening his blonde locks, and his usually cool tone of voice had turned desperate, your own name a slurred grumble or groan every time he felt you clench around him.
Your silky, white nightgown had been discarded long ago, the little scrap of fabric on the floor reminding you of what had started this escapade in the first place. The memory of Nanami’s eyes darkening when you’d emerged for bedtime had your stomach tightening and eyes squeezing shut. You’d known him for who knows how long and he still managed to make you feel like a horny teenager with just one look.
“My perfect wife,” he panted into your neck, heavy cock nudging your deepest parts, you could feel him in your belly, could even see him in your belly, the area below your navel molding just slightly into the shape of his cock every time he would push into you.
Your skin was glowing from the last remnants of sunlight reaching through the gauzey curtains, the ocean waves gentle as they crashed along the shore, wrapping you in a cocoon of pure passion, the current moment so perfect and loving, one of Nanami’s hands snaking into your palm to ground you, the other resting beside your head as he kissed the tender curve of your neck.
He was a warm lover. Caring, romantic, a listener. Someone who focuses on giving instead of stealing pleasure. That’s why it was so easy to give him your trust, to open yourself up to him emotionally, and physically. Someone who easily outshined anyone when it came to choosing who to share your remaining years with.
Your ring fingers clinked together when he pushed into you with a particularly needy thrust, the golden bands once again twining as his fingers curled over your own in a firm lock. “Only yours,” you whimpered out, voice almost breaking from your very vulnerable position, your chest compromised as your legs were propped up, the backs of your thighs fitting against his chest, folding over his shoulders at the knees.
Not only did your words drive him crazy, but the little jingle he would hear every time his hips connected with your own had his eyebrows knitting with some primal need to actually make you his. The bracelet he’d gifted you had ended up clasped around your delicate ankle, the silver charm glinting his initial in the low lights, every little reflection catching his peripheral, spurring him on. You had done it on purpose. You had known he would have you folded sooner or later and you knew how much he loved to mark you, that piece of jewelry a literal signing of his name on you.
Your mouths latched onto each other, hurried kisses ending in heavy breaths against each other’s face or neck, eventually your foreheads being the place of rest as he continued to fuck you with every ounce of energy in his body.
“-love you, s’much,” you murmured, voice lilting with the rising pleasure in your core, his thick length prodding every ridge you had to offer, that spongey spot of nerves catching his head with every pass, eliciting a gasp from your lips, Nanami’s jaw clenching as he held himself back from completely plowing into you, your approaching climax drawing a rush of liquid from your twitching cunt, trickling onto his thighs.
“I love you,” he kissed you this time, his strong hand fisting the sheets beside your head, the other still clutching onto your hand as he knocked the breath from your lungs, his cock feeling like a full-blown spear impaling you, the only thing keeping you sane being his mouth on you, and the sweet-nothings groaned from his lips.
***
It was dark by the time you two had truly finished with each other, your body curled up in Nanami’s lap as he lounged with you on the large chairs placed outside the curtains of your bedroom, the moonlight bouncing off the waves as they continued their trek across the shore.
His nimble fingers traced gentle shapes on your back, your upper body covered by his blue shirt, dwarfing your form in a pool of fabric, Nanami modeling your “half-nakedness” with only a pair of boxers, his strong legs visible to your very sleepy, but eager eyes.
Some type of tropical, cricket creature hummed a pretty song, coaxing your eyelids to flutter, your body sinking further into your husband’s hold, your cheek nestled gently against the soft curves of his collarbone, his heartbeat steady in your ear.
Taking note of your drifting consciousness, Nanami smiled down at your curled up form, fingers slowly letting up on their brief massage session to brace his hold. “Let’s get you to bed,” he murmured, kissing the top of your hair with such tenderness you almost agreed to get up and listen, but he was just so warm and cozy.
Pretending to not hear him, you put on your best sleeping face, mouth opening slightly to really pull it off, the tiniest of snores leaving you in a very convincing manner. Silence followed your antics before a rumble vibrated from the chest of the man you lied on, a soft laugh leaving him as he took in your ‘sleeping state’, a laugh that had your lips twitching, a smile almost breaking out on your face.
“What a shame.. the Mrs. has fallen asleep on me,” he sighed, voice filled with faux sorrow, and when he relaxed back into the chair, you thought the victory was yours, nuzzling back against his chest to comfortably relax again. That was.. before your world was turned upside down, a yelp echoing from your throat as Nanami hoisted you over his shoulder, your bottom cradled by his large hand as he smiled that stupid smile of his and trekked back into the bedroom, all fatigue gone from the two of you, replaced with the teasing air of aching want.
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