#shading makes no sense but trust
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hu-arts · 3 months ago
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Femween day 7 : Halloween party!!
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sillyfudgemonkeys · 5 months ago
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Me when they confirm in Roku's 2nd novel that Ta Min has had the hots for Roku since school started (or sooner) but didn't say anything because of Sozin or something, and thus perpetuating the Ta Min/Rangi and Sozin/Yun parallel:
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katsdoodles · 7 months ago
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The snilerrrr
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dark-side-blog3 · 9 months ago
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What are your favorite sub-genres of horror?
Psychological horror and comedic horror are my favourite sub-genres; Creep (2017), Barbarian (2022), The Watcher (2022), Tucker and Dale vs Evil (2010), and Ready or Not (2019) are some of my favourite horror movies. I love Renfeild (2023) too, but that's really more of an action comedy that happens to have a vampire and gore, no matter what streaming services will try to tell you. But if a meringue is a cookie, then Renfield can be a horror flick. Just barely.
My Bloody Valentine (1987) and its reboot in 2009 with Jensen Ackles are my favourite slasher!
And of course, I'll watch some new stuff from abroad, new extremity, natural disaster horror, death games, splatter, popular new releases, or stuff that gets recommended to me, but if I'm on my own and looking for something, I'll usually pick a psych horror or a horror comedy!
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trentcrimminallybeautiful · 2 years ago
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Sorry. I meant cis ted.  I would never baby girls transman that would be offensive.
???? yeah i mean. i kind of figured you probably meant cis ted, i was saying I got distracted on the topic of feminization kink. also i mean. yeah it CAN be offensive but i was talking about how me, as a trans man, enjoys feminization kink on a trans male/transmasc character (in this case trent, sorry) bc i project a lot😩 and it's fun specifically because of the inherent contradictory na--i mean i did explain this? didn't i? i. sorry??
#please tell me im not about to get a bunch of anon hate for . [checks notes] having a kink#anyway i only like it done a certain way like. im not into misgendering or whatever its more just like. ohhh idk how to explain it rn#Again. Headache#but like. its ABOUT the contradictory nature of it its ABOUT how it#ironically--perhaps paradoxically--is validating of my/his gender#and like i mean. aftercare. praise kink anyone? good boy? love that shit. validation.#like. it's just. a guy can enjoy being feminized. and a trans guy is a guy#with as much wide variety as cis guys#and sometimes hes into that! and not necessarily in the specific Misgendering way but just. in the regular way. like a cis guy might be. yk#sources: I Am Into It And I'm Transmasc#anyway tldr IM babygirling trans trent bc id like to masculine enough to be babygirld.#plus ngl it just plays into my Complicated Gender Feelings#one of my ideal genders (i collect them like a dragon#im fluid i think but i lean very masc but in different shades?) is like#i want to look like a boy in girl's clothing if that makes sense. masculine enough that i could wear a dress and people would think#'guy in a dress' not 'lady' but still like. you know. wearing the dress.#and this plays into that--being masculine enough that you can be feminized and still be recognizably a guy? or know that you are still like#you and your partner still Know and Perceive you're a guy? you know?#the security of that in your own gender + safety/trust in your partner + it's FUN it's just fun#idk how else to explain it man but it's literally me projecting my personal feelings#also idk what emoji that is it wont load for me rip#ANYWAY sorry to derail thats why i did it in the tags. im just like#honestly not as interested in ted getting railed which--again not that it's not valid but it's also like 90 percent of the fan content for#the ship and like. again that's not invalid or Not Canon or something im just more interested in WRITING about trent getting railed#bc i have blorbo disease and my own preferences yknow?#askbox#anonymous#if i get like. Cancelled over this. im going to. like. walk into the sea
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popculturealchemy · 27 days ago
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. who are you talking to . . . why are you writing this . . why are you typing that . why do you study people this closely . . . eyes on me. feeling like crawling . not supposed to see this far . . thats cheating . . I see you better with my eyes closed . I never needed this info . . dream state . 2d . eyelids pulsating . third eye . body tingling. . feeling . eye looks like a muscle. . close up . flexing . . pretending to see shit . . explaining . . explainations explaining other explainations . . thoughts needing expanding . writing in the past present tense . languages . . . culture . glue stick words structure to my bones . . . . shape making sense . not terrified . brain experiment time . . . first human . . to look inside . . . cut body . never seen that 3rd dimension . . . blood metal . . . organs
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fungi
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muscles flexing
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Inner worlds supporting inner worlds
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ecology
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exchanging
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help me out
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one standard
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focal points different
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culture to culture
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new grammar
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never happened
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used to
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used to
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used to used to
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what ever used to means
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I don't have to do anything
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life always feeling in danger
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body hurts when trying to help myself when i'm by myself
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have to write things down
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brain working
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people trying to erase
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feeling l ike a target
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might be perception
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confidential
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am I cooked.
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feeling cooked.
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wow-an-unfunny-joke · 3 months ago
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I want to get like an important style job. Like senator or some shit. So I can show up to meetings and stuff full on emo and just act like it’s nothing.
Like dyed hair, makeup, more formal style clothes that still have the vibe, ya know?
I want one be able to do that
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sqoa · 3 months ago
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cw stalking
☓☓☓ stalker!satoru likes exploiting his heightened senses to learn everything and anything he can about you. he doesn't even need to be in the fucking room to know that you're sitting with your thighs pressed together because you're still thinking about the letter he slipped under your door that morning.
the letter, in which he wrote the dirtiest details about yourself that not even you picked up on. like how when you're really horny you become restless and can't keep still for too long, or how when you cum your eyes squeeze shut and you almost look scared of the pleasure you're giving yourself. which he loves, because your fear is an aphrodisiac to him.
but you figure whoever it is that's stalking you is only stabbing a guess at what could be true. because there is no way he's someone you've fucked, because you don't fuck on a whim. the only other explanation you can come up with is that he's been in your home, either to install cameras or slip into the shadows late at night when you're touching yourself. which is a ridiculous thought, so he must be assuming.
until you come home from a particularly gruelling day to find a small box on your pillow.
it's black, and wrapped in a blue ribbon that looks hauntingly familiar to the shade of blue—you shake your head. with trembling hands you open the box to find three things. one of which is a baby blue vibrator, the same shade as the ribbon and a certain set of eyes you often think of when you touch yourself. you also find a smaller box with a note attached.
'a promise, until you trust me enough to replace it with the real thing, doll.' it reads, and doesn't make sense until you open the box and find a ring inside. expensive looking and glistening under the moonlight coming in through your window. it fits your ring finger perfectly when curiosity bests you and you slip it on. You should be panicked, locking your doors and calling the police but there's a horrible ache in your lower abdomen that has you awful restless, and you realise that perhaps your sweet-tongued stalker knows a little more about you than you do yourself.
weeks of gifts like this go by, from sex toys to expensive meal deliveries each night, you're starting to feel more like a sugar baby than a victim. and still, you haven't even given in to your stalker... you've been too scared to touch yourself, to put the box of toys he's gifted you to use, because each night as you fall asleep you dream of vile things done to you by a man you can't see the face of. you worry that if you give in, let him watch you fuck yourself stupid on the toys he brought you, you won't want to hate this. to hate the way he calls you his doll, like you're a toy to be played with, in a home he somehow has access to despite how many times you change the locks.
it's not until you're on a mission one day, alongside satoru gojo. you're in an awfully tight space together, stuck in an abandoned warehouse and boxed in by curses that you're sure he could handle in the blink of an eye if he wanted to. but you're here, pressed chest-to-chest and breathing in the scent of his sweat and cologne mixing together—sugar on his breath.
and you're just so needy, after weeks of denying yourself in hopes of boring your stalker away. you have to press your thighs together, satoru's hard abs against your stomach is too much: and the way he looks down at you, laboured breath and glossy lips parted... you have to look away. but when your gaze meets the ground, you catch a glimpse of something that you hadn't noticed before.
a ring on his finger, one that matches yours—hell, it even looks cut from the same gem.
and his voice is poison. "you've been hiding from me haven't you, my doll?"
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exeggcute · 6 months ago
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none of this is new info, but you know I have the "loves to write lists and compile links" disposition, so I thought it might be helpful to share some of the tips I've seen about how to make sure you're sharing legitimate palestinian evacuation fundraisers and bundle all those tips into a single handy reference post.
this is a spreadsheet of legitimate ("vetted") fundraisers on tumblr.
this post explains how the people who maintain this spreadsheet confirm the legitimacy of each fundraiser they add.
this podcast episode ("yousef and the fourth move") explains why evacuation fundraisers are often organized by people who don't live in gaza and/or who may not be immediate relatives of the people trying to evacuate. it's part three of a series about a man named yousef and his family; parts one and two aren't required listening for part three to make sense, but if you have a few hours to spare then I wholeheartedly recommend listening to all of them.
this is the process that I personally have been using to check whether a particular fundraiser has been vetted:
spreadsheet method
open the vetted fundraisers spreadsheet.
inside this spreadsheet, open the "find..." menu. on a windows computer, this shortcut is ctrl+F. on a mac, this shortcut is cmd+F. on a mobile device, click the three dots menu in the upper right corner of your screen, then select Find and replace.
search for the last name of the person or family in the fundraiser. you may get several results because last names obviously aren't unique; keep hitting "next" until you've looked at all the results.
if you find an entry in the spreadsheet that has the exact same name and whose gofundme link leads to the same fundraiser associated with the blog, it's legitimate. if you don't find an entry in the spreadsheet that matches the blog's fundraiser, that does not mean it's a scam. try the next method below!
tumblr search method
copy the username of the tumblr who originally posted the fundraiser and/or sent you a message asking you to boost the fundraiser. (for example, username123)
paste this username into tumblr's search bar.
for best results, click the All types drop-down menu, then select Text. since the search page is often dominated by asks sent by username123 (which people then answer and tag with their username), this helps narrow things down a bit.
look to see if any people who are not username123 have made posts confirming that username123 is legitimate. this includes people who've reblogged fundraisers and added notes, people who've compiled masterlists, and people sharing hyperlinks to other posts confirming a fundraiser's legitimacy. if the message seems to be "yep, looks legit," then it's safe to assume it's legit.
this is not a comprehensive list, but here are some of the usernames I've seen associated with "yep, looks legit"-type posts and who I've come to trust by association. (disclaimers: I am not mutuals with any of the users, and not all of them do the vetting firsthand, but the ones who don't vet posts themselves still seem to be careful about what they share and therefore are a good lead to follow. also, don't bug these people to vet fundraisers for you unless they've specifically indicated that they're open to that.)
90-ghost
el-shab-hussein
nabulsi
appsa
northgazaupdates
retvolution
communistchilchuck
neptunerings
a-shade-of-blue
shimamitsu
neither of these methods yielded anything definitive; what now?
it may just be too early to tell. unless a trusted source has shared overwhelming evidence that a particular fundraiser is a scam (which seems to be a very very rare occurrence), the best thing you can do is ignore it. don't report their blog as spam, because there's a good chance it's a legitimate fundraiser who just hasn't been vetted yet.
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satorena · 9 months ago
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❛ # MÉNAGE À TROIS ! ❜
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ᡣ𐭩 featuring. g. satoru x reader x g. suguru
☆ warnings. explicit content. foul language. thrēēsome (mmf). getting caught in the act. ceo!satoru and secretary!reader make a comeback. jealous gojo. ceo!suguru but he’s a pervert. crēāmpie. fīngerīng. oral (f+m). backshots. afab!reader. feminine descriptions used.
ᡣ𐭩 serena's note. can be read as a stand-alone but it’s basically a continuing to unprofessionalism !
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“are you—mmph, insane?!” you’re hoping your words are convincing enough to draw him back to his senses, despite them jumbling out your mouth and right into his. pressed up against the door of the empty bathroom, your legs are spread apart in favour to be supported by a strong thigh. big hands slide from your lower back to your ass, and squeeze, forcing a moan out of you. “we’re in public— we’ll get caught!”
when gojo does give you space to breathe, a thin string of saliva connects from his bottom lip to yours. he pants heavily, lips shaded a hue of cherry red as the corner of his mouth tugs into a sadistic smile, “yeah but don’t that make it more excitin’ though?”
you blink at him, the thought having already crossed your mind. you weren’t in any position to oppose as you’d even gone commando to a formal business dinner all due to your perverted boss’ orders. but a lot would be at stake here— you both could lose your jobs if caught, and you’d most likely be labelled a whore for the rest of your career. naturally, that was the last thing you wanted, and yet—
“quit overthinkin’ sweets,” you’re pulled out of your train of thought when his bulge grinds against your core. you gasp, eye lids fluttering shut as a rush of heat spreads in your gut. you feel his hands grip your waist and drag your hips forward, angling your body at a perfect position enough to force a whine out of you.
he leans forward to seal his lips with yours yet again, and you foolishly kiss him back. gojo pulls away too quickly for your liking, though his lips trail from the corner of your mouth to trail hot kisses at your jaw, to the slope of your neck. “promise we’ll be quick, don’t worry ‘bout it.”
“b-but,” you stammer, head thrown back against the cold surface of the door as your fingernails claw to the fabric of his expensive blazer. you try to recollect your thoughts, perfectly aware of how risky this entire situation could be. you do not get wetter because of the idea of getting caught—no way, you’d rather blame it on the stimulation of your clit rubbing against muscly thighs. “i could lose my job! or worse, we could lose our jobs—”
“‘m not gonna let that happen.” gojo cuts you off sternly, hand leaving the dip in your waist in favour of cupping your jaw. his index raises your chin, enforcing eye contact between you both to ensure his certainty. there isn’t a shred of doubt in those cerulean orbs, gaze intensely strong as opposed to your shyer one.
the arm at your hips snake around the perimeter of your lower back to hug you snugly against him. you’re entirely at his disposition— body trapped between the door and his much larger frame towering over you, and you hate the way your chest tightens at the unreadable look on his face.
“ever.” he repeats more firmly, before planting a short kiss onto your lips. you’re taken aback from the intimacy behind the kiss, as if he really were trying to reassure you you had nothing to worry about it. he might’ve been reckless and utterly stupid, but when it mattered, he really could be reliable. “do ya trust me?”
“yes.” you answer honestly, and the grin he offers at your response confirms every shred of doubt you’d had in mind. of course you’d do this— you were as much unprofessional as he was.
“that’s my girl.” you jolt at the firm blow landed on your ass. when your lips fall into an annoyed pout, he’s quick to kiss it away, beaming at you like a child on their way to a candy store. “now go face the mirror f’me— needa apologize for not properly treating you right the last time.”
you’re sure he’s referring to your last encounter in his office when he’d decided to punish you for bad mouthing him by skipping oral, if the way he hiked your dress up to your hips, kneeled on the floor and spread your pussy lips apart said anything. you shiver from the cool air he breathes at your aching cunt, fingers gripping the ceramic sink before you.
“shitttt,” you moan, head lolling forward when you feel his tongue swipe from your clit all the way near your rear end. gojo latches his lips onto yours, and feasts like a starved man. he rotates his tongue into motions he knows will have your knees buckle the way it does, flicks it at your a swollen leaking clit, and fucks it in and out of your clenching hole. “f-fuck, satoru, oh my goddd!”
he groans loudly into your cunt, big hands gripping an asscheek each as he divulges into your core. you’re a slippery mess, and you can’t imagine how soaked his face must be by how sloppy he tugs and nibbles onto your labia, drinking up any fluid you have to offer him. he makes it nearly impossible to keep alert of any upcoming visitors— any time you attempt to regard the door, just a peek over you shoulder, he plunges his canines into the flesh of your ass and spanks at your cunt. it’s as if he wants you to completely trust and rely on his word.
“nah uh princess.” you feel the impact of the coolness of his rings against your warm folds, mixture of saliva and your juices splurting as he spanks you. you feel your thighs trembling as you whine, eyes rolling to the back of your skull from the pleasurable pain. “you’re offendin’ me over here. focus on me—not that damn door.” if you didn’t know any better, he was definitely pouting with a mouth full of your cunt.
how ridiculous.
“‘m just tryna w-watch out for the doo—ooohh!” his tongue finds its way to your clit and you officially give up. completely surrendering yourself to his disposition, you let your guard down and allow him to ravish you whole.
it’s proven difficult to keep your eyes on yourself as you watch your reflection through low lidded eyes— gloss smeared on your swollen lips as fat tears build at your lower lash line. your neck and chest littered in love bites, areas that are incredibly visible to the public. and under any other circumstance, you would’ve made a big fuss about it, but you simply couldn’t care with gojo’s index and middle finger pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.
you’re irresponsible and foolish, and admittedly shameful as you feel the infamous knot of arousal in your core tightening. your knees feel wobbly, and you’re moans tune into a higher pitch as you claw the marble sink. gojo reads your body language well, his pace steady as he simultaneously finger fucks your cunt while lapping at your bundle of nerves.
you shoot him a look behind your shoulders, the sight of your boss on his knees aiming to please you admittedly quickening the process, “s-satoru, fuuuck, ‘m gonna cum!” you whimper, bottom lip tugged into your teeth. you remove your death claw grip on the sink in favour of carding your fingers through a set of fluffy hair.
he cocks a brow behind snowy locks, cerulean eyes peering at you with sheer intensity. he knows you’re close, could’ve guessed from how tightly you clamped down on his tongue, and he’s aiming to give you the best damn orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life because you deserve it.
it takes one, two, three jabs of his fingers at that spongy spot against your muscles for the dam to break. and it all happens too damn quickly to register—your eyelids beginning to shut close as your cunt squirts onto gojo’s face with the addition of an indifferent suguru geto at the bathroom door—
wait. wait wait wait.
your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets as you’re quickly drawn back into reality, “oh shittttt— shit! w-wait, toru, hol’on a second ‘m— he’s right there— fuckin’ hell!”
it’s like he’s doing it to fuck with you, deliberately ignoring your pleas as he swirls his tongue deeper into your high. it takes a forceful grab of your fingers at his scalp to remove him away from your cunt, and even that makes him moan.
his skin is botched red and glistening wet in your arousal, a childish pout resting on his shiny lips. he looks like a child who you’ve confiscated his jar of cookies for overeating, “what’s the rush, princess? y’re kinda killin’ me here, ‘m not done with you just yet.”
“so is she the girl?” geto shuts the door behind him, back resting against the flat surface. he cocks his head to the side and presents his infamous smile— the one you’ve seen briefly in the hallways as you passed by him, on your way out of your boss’ office.
“hmm?” gojo tilts his head to the intruding voice, and when his eyes fall onto his colleague, he lazily shrugs his shoulders, as if his appearance had been the most natural thing. “oh, suguru—what’re you doin’ here?”
“they’ve sent me to come find you both as the closing speech is soon commencing,” geto pushes himself off the door and takes long strides towards you both. “though i did have my suspicions— turns out i was right. satoru, you fuckin’ whore.”
your heart beat wildly against your chest. your mind raced a mile a minute, thoughts in turmoil as you fought between the fear that settled im your gut from being caught by another worker but simultaneously feeling your cunt ache at getting caught by another worker.
“heyyy, that’s fuckin’ rude,” gojo squints his eyes at his friend, a firm hand raising to spank your ass. you jolt from the impact as you squeal, your face heating in embarrassment at the situation. “she isn’t the girl, she’s my girl. there’s a difference and you oughta learn it.”
geto waves a hand around as if to dismiss his complaints. “yeah yeah, sure.” the ravenette stops before you, and for the first time you notice just how much tall he is too. a large frame sitting in an expensive tuxedo towering over your bent form, leaning forward to sit at an eye-level with you.
your lips part, as if to weakly defend yourself from the shameful situation you’ve found yourself in, but before words can escape your throat, you feel his knuckles grazing along the slope of your jawline. the gentle touch begins at your jaw and trails down to your chin, where the pad of his thumb then fondles at the corner of your mouth.
there’s a hypnotic look in his eyes— a seductive gaze stuck in the endless pools of purple as he stares you down. despite still being clothed, you feel naked beneath his gaze, and yet you can’t find yourself looking away, even when he hooks his thumb into your mouth.
“hi beautiful. mind tellin’ me your name?” geto asks, the melody of his voice so honeyed that you can’t help the automatic response you give him. he chuckles, pulling his thumb out of your lips and swiping the wet digit against your bottom lip.
“gorgeous name for a gorgeous beholder,” you’ve heard that line before, most likely from your boss, and if it ever came out corny then, then it certainly didn’t feel corny now. “tell me y/n, has satoru taken care of you properly?”
gojo interrupts, taken aback by the nerve of his friend’s assumption of him. “what— of course i have! who do you take me for?” you can hear the whine through his words, though you were still entirely stuck in a trance by the man before you. “baby, tell ‘im i took good care of ya!”
“mind if i take a look?” geto cocks his head to the side, the tip of his nose grazing yours. blinking, you suddenly realized the proximity of the man before you, warm breath fanning above the dip of your cupid’s bow. “promise i won’t take too long. feel free to say no.”
and rationally speaking, you should’ve said no. you should’ve taken the outing and tell him it was unprofessional and entirely risky since you’d already gotten caught by him, and had it been any other worker, you would’ve surely been black balled for the rest of your career days. and yet, the way his touches felt comforting and safe, fleeting from the back of your neck down to your arms and chest, another around your torso—
oh fuck it. “yeah, g-go ahead.” you nod instead, your mind telling you one thing but your pussy telling you another.
“whaaaaat?! y/n!” gojo complains, but geto’s quick to smile at you, going as far as calling you a ‘good girl’ before quickly shoving gojo out of the way. he crouches down as gojo rises to his full height, one hand holding onto your cheek and spreading it as the other grips onto the back of your thigh.
you suddenly feel very aware of the situation at hand, and lower your head in shame, teeth nibbling onto your bottom lip. you feel like a slut— your pussy casually being inspected by another high figure at your workplace, meanwhile your boss leans against a nearby wall with his arms crossed over his chest and a deep frown on his face.
“not bad satoru.” geto teasingly praises his friend, the grip on your cheek spreading the flesh further apart, as your sticky cunt squelches in result. your lips then follow suit as they spread, and geto abandons the hold on your thigh in favour of swiping his thumb to collect all of your juices, before popping it in his mouth. “mmhm, she’s all wet and sweet too. can’t believe you were holdin’ out on me man. i feel betrayed.”
“ever considered the fact i don’t want to share her with anyone? much less you?” gojo retaliates, pushing himself off the wall to stand beside you. your brows furrow at his words, eyes following his steps before he plants himself at your side.
geto chuckles, an sleek eyebrow raising up, “oh?”
gojo ignores his friend in favour of directing his attention towards you, pushing your hair away from your face and behind your ear. you blink at him through thick lashes, tilting your head into the warmth of his palm at your cheek, “if you don’t want this at any time, just lemme know and i’ll kick his ass, yeah?”
“wait.” you hold onto the wrist near your face, and his blue eyes follow the point of contact before returning to your eyes. you suddenly feel bashful as he stares at you as if you were the only girl in the world. “wanna suck you off too. . . y’know, as a payment for earlier.”
“yeah?” his smirk returns to his face, fiddling with a piece of your hair between his fingers. you roll your eyes despite the smile that crept at your own lips. “i dunno sweets, it’s startin’ to sound like you’re in love with me or somethin’.”
“not even in your wildest dreams, satoru.” you scoff, grabbing the hand that played with your hair to rest it above the mounds of your chest. the fleeting touch of his fingers against your perky buds through the thin material of your dress has you humming in pleasure. you watch as his eyes light up like a child on christmas day, the smirk on his lips stretched even wider as he cups onto your sensitive flesh.
gojo pushes the material of your dress aside to free your tits, watching the recoil as your bud comes to contact with cooler air and instantly stiffens. “oh come on—you can admit it princess, y’know i won’t hold it against you.”
you lick your lips, “give me a break toru— hngh, fuck!”
“oops, my hand slipped.” geto comments, running his fingers up and down the entrance of your folds. you can tell by the sound of his voice that it was definitely not an accident, as he dips his fingers in and out of your cunt, drawing out moans from you.
you fail to see how gojo frowns, a bitter look on his face as his best friend snatches your attention away from him. it’s soon replaced by admiration when your face contorts into that beautiful look you make whenever you’re completely over washed with pleasure— and even if it isn’t him offering you that euphoric feeling, he feels his cock twitch in his slacks regardless.
“toruuuu,” you call out his name, your gaze unfocused as you stare him up with doe eyes. you watch as he gulps, completely enamoured by you. “whip it out already, need it in my mouth.”
you giggle as he wastes no time, fumbling with the belt at his slacks before dropping them to his knees. he pulls out his cock from his dampened briefs, dick standing tall in arousal. veins decorated the sensitive skin all over, his mushroom tip a raging red as it dribbled pre cum. you could feel your mouth salivate at the look of his dick alone, balls hanging heavily full of cum.
he tightens his fist around the perimeter of his cock, dragging it down from the base all the way up to his tip, a guttural moan heaving from deep in his chest. he’s taunting you, and you shamefully feel your cunt dampen at his wanton sounds, “ngh, you ready baby?”
from behind you, you hear geto’s slacks also fall down to his ankles as he pumps his own hardness right against the cleft of your reddened cheek. he taps the tip of his dick against your soft flesh, watching the recoil of your ass bouncing on his cock, panting heavily as his words come out breathily, “you—shit, good to go, y/n?”
you nod eagerly, legs spreading for stability as you bend your upper body forward. your hands grip around the firm muscle of gojo’s thighs, and your nose nuzzles in the bush of snowy pubes, his musk clouding over your senses in a familiar way. your tongue lolls out as it rolls over the sensitive skin of his ballsack and sucks, and gojo whines, hand immediately flying to the back of your head to grip at your hair tightly.
you can feel the tip of geto’s dick pushing past your first ring of muscle, and you attempt to relax the muscles of your body at the intense intrusion of his penetration. he’s fucking girthy— much thicker than gojo, though not as lengthier. he’s stretching you out in ways that has your limbs liquify in heat, fingernails clawing deeper into gojo’s pale skin.
“fuck, shit, you gotta loosen up f’me baby— you’re too tight,” geto grunts, hands gripping tightly at your waist as he lurches forward. your stomach tightens in lust as your thighs tremble, the intrusion of his cock balls deep in your cunt melting your brain. he’d just bottom out, and you already felt on cloud nine.
“feel s’good, ngh fuckkk—mmph!” your mouth is suddenly full, the familiar taste of saltiness resting on the pallets of your tongue. you hear gojo above you moan pathetically, hips already rutting desperately into the warmth cave of your mouth.
you’ve sucked him off plenty before and so you know just how he likes it— sloppy and tight. you hollow your cheeks and stay mindful of your teeth, as you relax your throat muscles and let him work his magic.
“there’s my good girl, fuck yeah— y’know jus’ how i love it, dontcha?” gojo smiles down at you, thumb grazing at the dent in your cheek. he drags his thumb over the outline of his cock against your face, “what a fuckin’ beauty, shit, keep doin’ great for me, hnghhh, ‘m gonna bust soon.”
“already?” geto teases, thrusts languid as they match the pace of his friend’s. his hips meet the curve of your ass in hypnotic bounces as your ass ripples off his pelvis, and gojo’s quick to roll his eyes.
“fuck you,” it’s meant to come off as an insult but when you take him even further down, a gag tightening around the length of his cock, it trails off into a desperate moan.
“no thanks, ‘ve got your pretty little secretary here.” geto hisses when your pussy clamps down on his cock. he feels sweat begin to collect at his hairline, and focuses on the grip of your folds latching at his dick desperately.
you feel a firm blow at your ass cheeks, your muffled whines echoing in the room at the stinging pleasure. you attempt to run away from the impaling dick in your stomach, but you feel geto’s hands grab at your hips, stabilizing your limp body before a hand rises up and pushes your back into a curve.
“and where do you think y’re goin’?” geto tuts, hips angling at a new position, one that draws a broken mewl from your sore throat. every moan resonates against the dick stuffed in your mouth, and the sounds travel from gojo’s tip all the way to his stomach, as he feels his balls tighten.
“oh god baby, y’can’t do that to me!” gojo mewls, matted locks glued to his forehead from excessive sweat. you feel his droplets trickle down to your forehead, dribbling down your face and combining in the mixture of fluids leaking from your lips.
you feel his dick twitching in your mouth, a telltale that he’s bound to bust his load in no time. you release a hold from his thigh to cup at his balls, gently fondling with the sack as you bob your head forward to match his pace. saliva pools from the corner of your mouth and dribbles down your chin to the floor.
geto leans forward, chest pressed against the arch of your back. his breath is warm and tickles at the column of your hickey-littered neck, and the stretch of his girthy cock spreading the tight muscles of your rim has your stomach knotting in foreign pleasure.
his hand creeps in between your thighs, fingers toying with your aching clit as his lips graze at the shell of your ear, “love havin’ this clit of yours played with?” he purrs in your ear, lips ghosting over the goosebumps of your skin, and despite being gagged, you nod your head frantically in response. he’s bottomed out, balls deep inside your cunt, grinding his hips and rubbing his cock into areas you had yet to explore. “such a good slut f’me, ain’t that right?”
“for me– ngh, me too!” gojo argues childishly, quivery pink lips falling into a pout. he runs the pad of his thumb against your cheek, hooking his fingertip at the corner of your lips, thus painfully widening the hole of your mouth.
tears quickly build up at your lash line, vision blurring when you feel geto pull back up, landing blow after blow on the planes of your ass. the harsh impacts and rough thrusts has your backside ricochetting against his pelvis, your pussy clenching uncontrollably. the sensation was one that left you speechless– besides gojo’s lengthy cock occupying your throat. it was most definitely an uncomfortable stretch, but every now and then, when you’d feel the coolness of geto’s rings trailing down your inner thighs and the pad of his fingers soothing the ache at your clit, it easily subsided into pleasure.
“shitttt, just wan’ stay in your mouth forever,” gojo whines loudly, head thrown back with his brows cinched. he’s completely forgotten about your own comfort, fucking into your mouth for the sake of his own pleasure. you watch as his abs contract, chest heaving deeply, adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 
another gag rips out of your mouth when gojo abruptly plows into your mouth, your nose all the way to his snowy white pubic hairs. he moans all prettily, hand clutching tightly at your hair at the back of your head, before pulling away and repeating the same motions, “hell yeah baby– just like that, fuck.”
with tears now streaking down your cheeks, your mouth salivates uncontrollably as you clamp down on suguru’s cock, balls heavy with cum as they slap against your clit.
“shit—fuck, hold on,” geto hisses, thrown off by gojo’s sudden pace. purple orbs trail at the curve of your back all the way up to your bobbing head, when he’s hit with an idea. you fail to see it, but the smirk he shoots at his best friend is enough to telltale. you can only realise they’re up to no good too late, when gojo mirrors the smirk before him.
“match my rhythm and watch how quick she’ll cum.”
and embarrassingly enough, you feel the knot in your stomach tighten when you’re pounded into roughly from behind. their pace now much quicker and rougher, your broken moans turn into gargles around gojo’s shaft, and in an attempt to run away from the overwhelmingly thrusts stretching at your pussy, you instinctively move forward, only to choke around a twitching dick. you then realise their plan, when you try to pull away from the mushroom tip stroking at your uvula and wind up back into geto’s possession, balls deep in your cunt.
well shit.
they treat your body as if it were a fleshlight– a mere toy for their own pleasure, and you couldn’t deny the objectification of your body at their dispense had your body tense in straight arousal. the bulge in your throat and musky scent of gojo’s bush overwhelming your senses, and the thickness of geto’s shaft tearing your hole apart had you coming undone quicker than you’d like to admit.
“oh yeahhh,” geto whistles, never letting up his pounding as you leak through your pussy like a faucet. “look at that pussy go– clenchin’ down on me like a whore. y’fuckin’ love it when we slut you out like this, hm? our very own cumdump– shit, gonna fill you up nice ‘n good.”
“that’s my pretty baby— mmhm, swallow every last drop, mkay?” you feel your mouth being filled with warm spurts of cum, thick ropes shooting down your throat as gojo groans. “s’good for princesses like you, fuckkk, better open wide.”
✧.*
“i’m. . . gonna get goin’ now. you two stay back.” you tug at your dress, fixing your appearance with a nod before exiting the bathroom.
the two friends are left in the space as they run water against the heat of the skin, cleaning up any trace of mess they’ve left behind. the silence is incredibly loud, despite the faucet leaking water into the sink.
“she’s cute. i see why you like her.” geto comments, rolling his sleeves up before pumping his hands full of soap. he clicks his tongue against his teeth, “definitely piques interest.”
“suguru.” gojo deadpans, staring him down through the reflection of the mirror. geto looks up and returns the stare, though the crease of his cheeks through his smile sets gojo off wrongly. he can tell what his friend is thinking, and he doesn’t want to play this game— not with you.
“don’t. . . please. just don’t.” gojo breathes out, chest rising up and down. he doesn’t realize his fists are balled tight, nor that there’s a frown on his face. “she’s different, and i really like her. if you consider yourself my friend, you won’t.”
geto eyes him through slanted eyes, washing off the suds of soap on his palms before turning off the tap. every second passes by agonizingly slow for gojo as he watches his friend move. his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his chest uncharacteristically tight.
he walks to the paper towel dispenser, before drying his hands and shoving the paper down the garbage. gojo’s eyes trail his every move yet again.
finally, purple eyes meet his and they curve into that infamous smile— one that could send chills down your spine if not on his good side.
“yeah, i got you.”
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thank you @nantoji for beta reading 🙂‍↕️.
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snaileer · 1 month ago
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I’m a Size Medium, Thanks - 2
Part one: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/766471879423885312/im-a-size-medium-thanks
Danny stares into the eyes of what has got to be the grumpiest looking 12-14?10? How tall are children?- year old he’s ever met. And he grew up with Sam!
Danny looks back through the door, hoping to everything that an adult walks through. He is disappointed.
“Well?” The boy snaps, foot tapping.
“Uh, can I help.. you?” Danny says, voice ticking up. That’s what you’re supposed to say at a job right? Or maybe the kid wasn’t supposed to be here, “Do you need to call someone…?” He hopes not, he doesn’t know how or if the shop has a phone, and his… well his is wired through a realm of the dead so enough said there.
“My name is Damian Wayne.” He says primly. And expectantly.
Danny looks outside again, past the neon sign he specifically hadn’t turned on, then back at the Damian kid, blinking. There’s no way this was that ‘Mr.Wayne.’
The kid rolls his eyes impressively well then drops his glare back onto Danny, “Has this absurd incense burned away whatever meager sense you were born with? I am here to have a so-called ‘reading’ with a medium.”
If Danny hadn’t seen this Damian kid walk in with three whisps of shades wrapped around his arms, Danny would have questioned why, but he did, so he doesn’t.
He does, however, say: “Aren’t you a little young… to be like.. talking about death or something?” Though honestly, the incense is a real concern, Danny hadn’t even lit any today, Claire had just left it burning and the whole room was saturated.
“Will you fulfill your job description or not, you peasant?” The kid grits out.
Danny would really rather not. Like really rather not. But nOoo, here he was, waiting for a portal that could show up at any time, pretending he was a medium for a 7 year old just because he could talk to ghosts.
Danny sighs and drags himself around the counter to go into Claire’s weird little seance room. Maybe the fumes will kill him before the embarrassment does.
The kid follows.
Danny drops himself into Claire’s chair with weirdly plush armrests for still being so uncomfortable.
“Alright then, let’s get this over with. I’m Danny, the -ugh- medium. Whatdya wanna know?” Danny says as he kicks his leg out to hit a shade getting agitated and grabby by Damian’s feet. They got way too much of a spiritual boost from this room for Danny to be comfortable with it.
Damian watches him with a raised eyebrow, still not sitting down, “Aren’t you meant to lead the seance?”
Danny’s lip curls in distaste, he huffs a sigh and lets his shoulders drop, opening his mouth to tell this 9-year old something easy about one of his shades and be done-
He spots a sticky note stuck on the crystal ball.
-Danny, don’t forget, the showmanship is important! I trust you know how to meet expectations! Happy first day!
- Claire <3
Danny feels his face go deadpan. He was going to have this woman committed. That’s what he was going to do. She could be studied for the degenerative cognitive effects of being freaking bazonkers.
Danny plucks the note off the crystal ball and crumples it, letting the trash drop to the abyss that is Claire’s plush carpet.
He sighs, looking back up at Damian. The kid snaps his head towards him from where he’d been poking around the curtained walls- weirdo- but Danny beats him to the snappy comment.
“You got any spiritually charged items? Or like… something?” Danny says, taking a guess, he can make the thingy glow, say some nonsense, get paid, and close.
Damian narrows his eyes at him, but slowly moves to sit in the other chair, perched on the edge of the seat. He pulls something from his pocket and sets it on the table.
Pearls.
It’s a clump of shiny white pearls.
Absolutely dripping in ectoplasmic blood stains. So lovely.
Does Claire have biohazard gloves because oh gosh-
Danny hesitantly reaches for the pearls, lifting the strand between two fingers as he looks between it and the 12 year old. “You sure this is what you want to ask about?”
The kid’s glare turns challenging, mocking, “What? Admitting you are nothing but a charlatan?”
Danny grimaces, “Not quite. I mean…” He looks at the pearls again, then at the shade trying to hack away at the kids neck, “There’s definitely someone or something attached to this it’s just… not .. yours.”
“Tt,” the boy clicks his tongue at him, “and how exactly would you know that, charlatan?” Damian levels a mocking look up and down at him.
Danny’s eye twitches as he grimaces a smile, “Part of the job-“ brat. Danny doesn’t say that. Danny can’t say that. Danny has to deal with death obsessed TODDLERS who want to talk about some rando’s gruesome murder just so he can eat tonight. Or find somewhere to sleep. He doubts this will be enough for both.
Maybe if he’s dramatic enough.
Alright get to it then, Danny.
He sighs, dimming the light with Claire’s little remote- he is not so far gone as to turn them green like she had- and actually focusing his energy on the pearl necklace.
“What are you-“
Danny holds up a finger at Damian to silence him, which surprisingly works. He closes his eyes and starts trying to absorb the vibes of ectoplasmic remains as slowly as he can.
Feelings of course come with it and- well what’d ya know, he can definitely feel this attached to a ghost somewhere in this city.
“It’s a woman’s… younger than she should have been when she…”
He can hear Damian scoff, “Obviously, anyone could tell me that.”
Danny rolls his eyes under his eyelids, debating the merits of opening one to glare at him when his eyes are definitely glowing.
“She’s still here but-“ Danny says instead, trying to pull on the connection wandering out into the streets, “She can’t come here here.”
“What do you mean?” The boy snaps.
Danny tries to focus harder on it himself, he’s never done this before, tried to find or communicate with a ghost from an object… it was like Pointdexter and his mirror.
“She’s stuck somewhere… somewhere more important.. it’s dark and narrow and Danny mentally rears back as images flash into his mind. Accompanied of course by a woman’s scream.
An alley. A gun. A man stepping in front of her to protect her- no not her- a kid- Damian- not Damian- looks like-
Danny opens his eyes and drops the necklace. There’s barely any ectoplasm left on it.
Fine with him, he never wants to touch it again. But yuck that means he absorbed it!! Oh ewwww-
“Well?” An impatient voice asks and- oh yeah that’s right, the rude ass kid.
Danny pushes the pearls across the table with a finger and looks up at him, “Woman in an alley, that familiar to you?”
Damian’s eyes narrow, “Anyone who knows who I am could tell me the same.”
Danny snaps, “I don’t-!“ This is a child Danny, a child, he takes a deep breath, “Well she was scared for the kid, and now is… proud of him? There’s a lot of concern there, but she still watches him I guess, so that’s all I got for ya.”
Damian scrutinizes him for a minute, silent. Darn, weren’t mediums supposed to be vague as heck so that anything could apply and the person would find their own meaning? But did it count if he was just translating the vibes off a shade half a city away?
“This is…. acceptable.”
Danny nearly sags in relief and moves to stand, “Cool, then-“
“Wait.” The kid holds up a hand, “You said something regarding a disparity in the proposed ownership of the apparition you believed to be related to this jewelry.”
Danny blinks at him dumbly.
Damian scoffs again, “That the apparition attached to this necklace was ‘not mine,’ as you said??” He snarks, putting air quotes up.
Danny slowly sinks back down into the chair. “… Well yeah I mean..” does he tell this 8 year old about the slightly murderous shades he’s got around him? “You have… you have a couple… apparations… yourself. Not related to the pearls that is.” Danny says hesitantly, eyes skipping over said shades.
Damian jerks his head to follow his eyes and Danny shirks back, eyes back on the kid.
“Who are they? Tell me now,” Damian demands, standing to loom over the table.
Danny puts his hands up in surrender, “Whoa, I don’t know about that, they don’t really seem too happy with you-“ Another one tries to slice his hand through Damian’s neck, “I think you did something to them or made them angry at some point. I don’t really think you should try to contact them-“ Danny winces, that could end very badly. Thank goodness for limited ectoplasm access.
Meanwhile, his answer seems to have only made Damian more upset, his eyes wide as he stares down at Danny.
Suddenly the kid turns and stamps towards the door, leaving Danny to hurriedly push the chair out and chase after him to the main room.
Except-
When he gets there Damian is already shooting hushed insults at a man standing amongst the crystals.
The man looks vaguely like Damian, black hair, blue eyes, lithe build, and oh also- surrounded by shades of course.
These ones seem less vicious at least.
Please don’t be here for him. Please don’t be here for him.
Danny really doesn’t want to try and fake his way through another hour or however long it’s been of that.
“Hey there! I’m Dick, Damian’s brother!” The man says suddenly, pushing Damian aside and coming forward with a cheery grin, “Thanks for humoring him!”
Danny tilts his head to see Damian’s scowling face behind the man. Right.
“Uh huh… I’m Danny.” He says, trying not to be distracted by what he’s pretty sure is a baby elephant’s ghost behind him.
“You’re the medium right? We were just so interested to see if that old family heirloom would have anything or not. We-“
“We?” Damian cuts him off with a scoff, “I will meet you in the vehicle Richard. I will not spend another minute in this house of charlatans.”
They both watch as the kid turns and stomps out the door, uncrossing his arms only to open the door and stomp out. The stupid bell rings merrily.
This time it’s not Danny who sighs.
“I wish he wouldn’t say things like that,” Dick says wearily, “I grew up in places like this.” There’s a note of nostalgia to his voice. Danny just eyes the bowl of ‘fertility’ crystals warily, what kind of place??
Dick must see him do it because he huffs a laugh, “I grew up in a circus originally,” he explains, “So psychic places always just kinda remind me of my auntie’s tents.”
Danny glances at the elephant shaped ghost again, “Wow that makes so much sense actually.”
The guy raises a confused eyebrow at him.
Danny coughs awkwardly, waving it away, “So, money?” He claps, “I’m guessing you’re paying since Damian is…” Danny trails off, opting not to make a final guess on age and embarrass himself.
Dick laughs again and they go over to the counter, “Yep, here-“ He pulls out his wallet, rifling through cash before pulling some out, “Cash only yeah? This should be enough.”
Danny stares at the stack of slightly rumpled bills, “But- huh?…” that was… that was so much…
“Oh I added extra since I’m sure he probably said some things he shouldn’t have, don’t worry about it.”
Dick is already halfway out the door when Danny reloads and jerks upwards, “Wai-“
Could Danny really stop him? Should he? He needed this money but… he stops to count it. $20..40..60..80..100..120….140……160….180……….$200.
Danny blanches. He lurches for the door, no way he can take this much money just for basically acting as a glorified ecto-translator.
Danny stops in his tracks as he steps outside the shop and spots Dick and Damian speaking to a third, much older person, over the hood of a sleek black car.
This person, of course, also has several, several, shades around them.
What the hell was wrong with this family?
Damian turns and glares his way.
Oh ancients what if they were part of the mob or something.
Danny spins around on his heel-
And smacks straight into the glass door of the shop.
Ow.
Danny rubs his nose as he fumbles around for the door handle, acutely aware the death covered family was probably staring at him.
He grabs the handle and pulls-
Danny freezes, hand on his sore face stopping. He opens his eyes as he yanks again. Nothing.
Oh heck, he just locked himself out didn’t he?
No please no, they were so definitely still staring, no way they weren’t. Danny pulls again and it finally-
He looks at the door handle in his hand.
Then at the door still closed in front of him.
Then back at the door handle.
Just the door handle.
Crap.
Danny nearly weeps, clumsily fitting the door handle back on and still adamantly refusing to look and see if Damian and his absurdly rich family has left yet. Other people on the street are also starting to stare. The same reason he can’t just use his powers.
He finally gets the handle back on and gingerly lets go of it.
Ok. Deep breath.
Claire warned you about this. With a sticky note, but all the same. Extra key is taped on the bottom of the fire hydrant right outside the shop. You’ve got this.
Danny turns, kneels, and frantically begins trying to find the key on the absurdly dirty fire hydrant.
His hands come away black with grime, but thankfully he has the key.
He puts it in the lock and turns it, hearing what may very well be the newest sound of his nightmares: a snap.
Most specifically the sound of the key snapping in Danny’s very hands.
Danny stares at the half of the key still held between his fingers.
Did he do something to this city? Was this his fault? Could he not just sit in a closet and wait for the portal to open and go home?
Danny sags against the door, and resigns himself to his fate. Maybe he can go get food… with the money he left on the counter. Great.
Danny peeks his eyes sideways and catches the guy, Dick, finally getting into their car.
Okay, just a tiny bit just a bit. Danny holds the key again, focuses on the lock in the door jam and….. intangible!
He yanks the door open and jumps inside, door closing against the flutters of quickly fading shades on the street.
And more than one scream at them but hey that’s not his problem.
Mostly.
Danny revels in the cool lighting of the shop, glaring at the stupid broken key in his grimy hands. He drops the useless bit of metal on the counter, pockets the cash and wipes his hands on the backside of one of Claire’s million wall curtains.
It leaves a black stain that basically disappears when Danny folds the fabric over it.
Oh well.
Technically the shop was still open.
And technically, Danny didn’t know if the lock did or didn’t work right now.
He moves to find whatever storage closet Claire used to store her absurd number of crystals.
He finds it- finally- and using the keys he left in the store to begin with, he is able to unlock the perfect place to sleep tonight amongst several packages of…. Some kind of incense powder… or something. He doesn’t really care because that plan of hiding in a closet till the portal opens? Yeah, Danny’s putting that into action right the frick now.
He bends down to start to lay out his sweatshirt over the cardboard bed-to-be.
A bell rings in the distance.
Danny is going to destroy that bell on the door, he swears it.
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agnireed · 1 month ago
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IN THE DARK
summary 🏹 you end up with daryl after the fall of the prison and the isolation starts making you see the older man differently
word count 🏹 6.7k
warnings 🏹 large age gap (reader is 21), daryl is very conflicted in his feelings, using sex to cope with grief, non descriptive smut, daryl doesnt talk much
the blazing campfire was doing very little to thaw the complete icy cold your heart was currently struggling with.
you’d never felt a loss as substantial as this, something so monumental that you couldn’t even process it’s reality. there was no chance you were going to be able to fathom the grief you were carrying now that the prison had fallen along with the majority of your group, now and possibly forever.
your only reminder of what you once had was currently sitting across from you, eyes pointed down at the dirt instead of the fire that was painting his tan skin a deep and earthy shade of orange.
daryl hadn’t spoken a word since you had ran from the prison together and you’d almost grown concerned about the state of your hearing until you finally settled down and focused in on the crackling of the flames and the chirping of the bugs around you.
you had nearly missed him in the initial chaos, running any direction your body carried you without rhyme or reason, simply attempting to flee from the sounds of gunfire and the building roar of walkers. you’d barely made it into the tree line outside the gates when you heard heavy footsteps behind you, spinning around with your knife up only to drop it completely when you saw his concerned face.
he had spared a pained look back at the burning prison before approaching you and wrapping a hand tightly around your wrist, giving you a grunt that let you know it was time to go.
that was the last noise you’d heard him make and the silence was starting to drive you crazy now.
you kept watching him with the same heavy gaze and you didn’t falter even when he was finally looking away from the floor and making eye contact with you. his body locked up even though he could already feel you watching him before he confirmed it and you cocked your head curiously.
daryl hadn’t been somebody you’d put much thought to until this exact moment where he was potentially the last person on earth.
he’d been in the group before you and he was there when rick found you, standing just a few paces behind him with his crossbow permanently drawn and aimed at you like you were a threat with your shaking knees and carved broomstick.
it had made slightly more sense when you were brought back to the small house they were temporarily shacked up in and greeted by the sight of a largely pregnant woman and a small child standing in the doorway.
you didn’t take his precaution personally and it wasn’t long before you were joining the group and finding the prison together, the trauma of clearing it and losing people in the process finishing off the bonding you all needed to be able to trust each other.
he was always somewhere off in the distance watching as people had hushed conversations or heavy glances passed through the hallways, eyes observing and seemingly waiting for something that you weren’t sure of. you’d heard from carol bits and pieces about his past and you quickly learned how skilled he was in numerous areas that you couldn’t begin to understand but your knowledge didn’t go far past that.
you imagined he felt similarly about you and you were more accurate than you even realized.
daryl was aware that you were quick on your feet and silent in a way that even he feared occasionally. sometimes you’d appear behind him or other members of the group and the sudden sound of your voice would almost make him jump.
you had the same youthfulness that beth and maggie carried but the similarities between you stopped there, something much heavier weighing down your shoulders than the sisters could relate to.
he was looking away from you again and you wondered if he was thinking about the same thing you were right now, pondering over how ridiculous it was that you two were paired up out of everybody inside those walls.
on one hand you were extremely grateful to be in the company of somebody that could undoubtedly handle himself but then there was the silence.
the silence was the exact thing that was driving you to stand up from the warmth of the fire and sigh softly before turning on your heels and venturing off into the darkness of the woods around you.
you knew it wasn’t the best idea to go wandering around in the dark so close to where the flames of the prison were still raging and drawing swarms of walkers but you could almost feel the grief taking over any sense and rational left inside you. you felt dead already and there was only a slight warmth going through your blood when you heard the sounds of daryl stomping out the fire behind you.
it was easier to hear him like this, back pressed against a tree as he tried his best to track you in the dark.
you could hear occasional twigs snapping under his heavy weight and ever so often your ears caught a frustrated grunt as he struggled to find you. the human sounds were almost addicting after the prolonged mute period he was presenting you and you held your breath when you heard him nearing you finally.
it must’ve been impossible by now to locate you but you figured somebody as experienced as daryl could atleast tell that you were still nearby, even if it was as simple as feeling your presence.
you’d managed to stay still long enough that your eyes adjusted to the dark just the right amount to be able to make out his frame passing you, shoulders wide and sturdy as he froze in place and looked around frantically again.
you could see the way his chest was rising and falling with trembling breaths, undoubtedly feeling some sort of fear from how shaky his inhale sounded. you knew he wasn’t fearful of his own fate and your head cocked at the idea he was potentially afraid to have lost you.
there was a slight lapse of judgement on your part as you took an instinctive step towards him and although your foot made no outward noise, his head snapped up and in your direction. you wondered if he could see you there now, pressed against the tree and starting to meet his heavy inhales.
neither of you spoke still but then he was turning around fully and walking towards you again, seconds from passing you once more before your hand was reaching out and wrapping around his elbow.
he flinched at the sudden contact but his body lost most of the tension when he realized the hand on his skin was warm and very much alive, understanding it was you before he could even see you.
he took a step sideways and now he was standing in front of you, chest still heaving but now you could tell it was from a much different emotion. he was furious with you for disappearing and yet he still hadn’t said a word, not even about the fact your hand was still touching his arm.
you could see his face clearly now and you were sure the same was true for him, gaze looking over the part in your lips as you took small breaths and the way your eyes seemed wider than normal as you stared up at him.
you’d never been this close to the older man before and you certainly hadn’t touched him outside of the occasionally helping hand up or light grip while riding on the back of his motorcycle. your hold on his arm had turned into your fingers slowly moving up and down in a soothing manner, head cocking again as you waited for him to pull away from you.
he didn’t but you could almost see the struggle in his eyes, locked onto yours almost unintentionally like he just couldn’t bring himself to look away.
your hand smoothed it’s way up his arm even further, taking a few seconds to squeeze and rub at the tensing muscles of his bicep. you were suddenly reminded of his strength, something that was easy enough to ignore when you were able to chalk it up to being a young girl with hormones that didn’t have a place to go.
it was simple enough to be entranced by the sight of him digging graves or working on his bike in those sleeveless shirts he was so fond of, an older man already gruff to the world long before it had fallen apart.
you were able to feel little guilt for staring longer than you probably should have, always fixing your gaze back to where it was supposed to be as you busied yourself with the task for the day or just quick enough to avoid getting caught watching him by somebody else.
it was strikingly obvious now that there was no more distractions and certainly nobody who would be able to judge you.
you could feel his eyes still on your face even though yours was locked on the sight of your hand wrapping around his arm, letting it remain there for a few seconds longer before you were moving it up to his hair. he finally released a sound at this and the low grunt that fell from his lips lit up a heat in you that felt almost dangerous.
every part of you was suddenly screaming that you needed to do whatever possible to keep that heat growing higher and higher, pushing it until it was hopefully reaching the painful ice that had completely taken over your heart.
he was tenser now but not enough that he could stop you from softly pulling his head down towards your shoulder, feeling his hair touch your skin at the same moment you were turning and whispering into his ear. the desperation caused you to speak despite the overwhelming risk that he would leave you there alone with the dying heat as soon as he remembered who he was in the dark with.
“you can touch me too” your voice was so quiet that you almost didnt hear it but you knew he had judging by the way his entire body locked up at the way you practically purred.
you let him lift his head just enough that he could look into your eyes again and you felt another surge of panic at the hesitation his face held, your free hand immediately landing on his chest and rubbing downwards on his stomach to try and distract him from the obvious issue with what you had just said.
another thing you had learned about daryl since meeting him was that he was a good man.
rude and abrasive were the easiest words to describe him but it was undeniable that he was one of the best hearts your group could offer. he was devoted and loyal and there was very little he wouldnt do for the people he cared about.
all this had been something you admired a few months ago but now you were overwhelmingly frustrated by just how good he was proving to be. you could think of many men that would kill to be in the postion he was in now, alone in the dark with a young girl who was clearly longing to feel just about anything.
it made your nose automatically scrunch up to imagine any of those men here with you now instead of him and he mustve misread your sudden expression because you could feel him going to pull away from you, a panicked breath leaving your lips as you tugged him back harder than you had meant to.
your back was hitting the tree harshly and you barely had time to wince at the bark cutting into your shirt before he was falling into you, clearly unintentional. he froze up again when he heard the gasp you let out at the feeling of his chest pressing against yours and your hand in his hair tightened automatically.
he surprised you by not pulling away or distancing himself and you met his gaze again, giving him an encouraging nod as you gently tugged at his arm in an attempt to pull it away from his side. he gave in to your small nudges but still didnt touch you like you were longing for, instead just watching you as you let out soft whines and tried to get his hand to rest against you in any way.
“please.” it was the softest plea you could muster and the sound went directly to his defense, crumbling it almost completly as your wide eyes started to tear up. he was completely baffled that you were being brought to tears from how needy you were, desperate to be touched by him to the point that you were nearly forcing it.
finally he was caving in just enough to attempt to calm you down and you let out a shaky breath when his hand was landing on your side, feeling the dip of your waist and averting his gaze from yours now that he was responding to your advances.
your mouth parted again when he was squeezing your side almost absentmindely, massaging the soft flesh and letting out a low noise from the back of his throat when you tugged him impossibly closer. he was tightly pressed into you now and you could feel his entire body encaging yours against the tree, legs shifting to allow him more access to slot himself between them.
your hand was nearing frantic as you gripped his wrist and forced him to touch you more, sliding it over your lower back and angling yourself until it was touching your ass. he tensed up again but the high pitched whine you let out was almost enough for him to forget the issue at hand, worsening when your head was landing on his shoulder and your hands were gripping his upper arms like you were losing your balance over a simple touch.
he couldnt help himself now, it was simple human curiosity that led him to squeeze your ass in his first direct move. the action pulled you against him even more and slightly lifted you off the ground from the accidental force of it, another grope instinctively following when he felt your heavy breath against his neck and the way you shivered.
your hips were moving in small waves now, one of your hands back in his hair so you could force his gaze to meet yours again.
he seemed so cold as he watched you and the lack of emotion on his face did nothing but light the fire in you even more as a new desire to make him feel good emerged, his hand still gripping your ass while the other settled smoothly on your waist.
your shirt had ridden up as it got stuck against the tree bark and you felt the rough skin of his thumb smooth over your bare side, a cry leaving you at the feeling. he automatically shushed you and it was the closest you’d came to hearing his low voice in days, eyes watering as you nodded obediently and bit your lip in an attempt to stay quiet.
he was fully groping you now and your hips were rocking against him at a pace that was stealing the breath from your lungs, even more so when you were lifting your leg and resting it against his waist easily.
his core was pressing against yours and even though he wasn’t moving, he wasn’t stopping you either. you were practically using him for your pleasure and the thought made you cry out again.
this time he didn’t have to shush you because you were using your grip in his hair to pull his mouth to yours, whining as soon as your lips connected. he tensed up but you almost sobbed at the idea of him not responding to your advances and thankfully he did.
his mouth moving against yours was more intense than anything else you’d done and now the whines were impossible to hold back, forgetting about the loss you were feeling or the fact you were completely exposed to the world around you.
any potential danger wasn’t on your mind anymore and all that mattered was that you weren’t alone and you were still alive, heat fully building now as you kissed daryl and relished the feeling of his hands on you.
then it was gone as quickly as it came and you felt yourself completely ice over when he was suddenly gone, head so dizzy you almost thought he just completely vanished before you realized he had just stumbled backwards into the dark in front of you.
you knew he hadn’t left you, both because he would never do something like that and also because you could hear his raspy breaths a few feet away.
there was no confusion flooding through you because you knew exactly why he had stopped kissing you, the same reason he was currently storming off back towards where your abandoned fire was still dying out.
you waited a few seconds before you followed him, just long enough that you could still hear his footsteps without risk of ending up anywhere near him.
you weren’t stupid and you understood the mistake you had just made, especially with somebody as testy as daryl. you’d seen the way he locked up whenever carol rested her hand on his shoulder and it was obvious that he considered everyone he met a threat until given valid reason not to.
and then there was the issue of him being a good man.
daryl may come from a bloodline of men who would have no issue pressing a girl over twice their age younger than them against a tree but he wasn’t proud of that gene pool and he wasn’t going to start joining them now.
you felt guilty as you watched him from the tree line, throwing the half burnt logs roughly back onto the ashes with his face turned up in frustration and possible disgust. you didn’t join him even when the flames were back and a cold shutter was running over you, staying there in the shadows and longing for another warmth.
——
any hope of daryl choosing to forget about what happened and act normal was quickly lost when he woke you up by tossing a few loose rocks in your direction.
you had jumped awake and frantically searched your surroundings for any threat, freezing when your eyes landed on him standing there and glaring at you. he had looked the exact same since the fall of the prison but his shoulders were rigid with something else now.
you weren’t at all shocked by the fact that he hadn’t left you there, still feeling assured in knowing he wouldn’t do that to you no matter how upset he was with you.
he stood there, frozen in place, as you quickly gathered your little belongings into the small backpack you’d managed to grab during the chaos. there was an air of impatience around him that you didn’t want to test so you went as fast as you could and looked at him expectantly when you finished.
there was no mention to where you were going and you didn’t bother asking any questions, following him back into the woods blindly.
daryl walked for hours with no rest and you used all of your willpower to avoid requesting a break, keeping your exhausted pants and breaths for air as quiet as you could. he never once glanced back to make sure you were keeping up and there was periods of time where you almost lost him due to the distance between you.
at first you thought you were somehow managing to catch up every time but you quickly realized that he was stopping to wait for you.
the guilt you had felt was subsiding now as you assumed he was punishing you. you glared daggers into his back and started to purposely take your time, dragging your feet over noisy piles of leaves and sending decayed logs sprawling across the forest floor.
it took him a few hours to start sending glares back in your direction once he pieced together that your clumsy actions were clearly intentional. you both were furious with the other without really knowing why and the heavy emotion partnered with exhaustion was getting to you quicker than you realized.
“damnit girl pick up your feet.” his voice ripping through the forest completely threw you off your pace and you genuinely nearly tripped over a loose branch. straightening up just in time to see his concerned expression snap back into a glare.
“maybe if we took a break i could.” you were quick to argue back like the fact this was your first conversation in days wasn’t clouding your mind and he scoffed at your excuse.
daryl knew you well enough to know you weren’t the type to be clumsy when you were tired and that the crease in your eyebrows wasn’t a common sight. he was finding it hard to think of a rebuttal that wouldn’t reveal that level of familiarity and he settled on a mean scoff.
“do you even know where we are going?” your hands were thrown out from your sides in frustration and he watched you as you let out a humorless laugh. “is this your entire plan? walk ourselves to death?”
the jabs may have been just your anger spewing out whatever you could think but it was hitting him somewhere he didn’t know you could access. it wasn’t lost on him that you were looking to him now the same way everyone looked towards rick, although one life was way less of a responsibility than what the sheriff had taken on.
although he was beginning to question if that was true.
his lack of answer seemed to annoy you further and you wish you could’ve stopped yourself from talking but the embarrassment from his rejection and overall exhaustion was clearly affecting your impulse control.
“if you’re going to bore me to death at least let me get a drink first.” your tone was so harsh that he almost didn’t recognize it and his lip turned up in a snarl.
“ain’t even old enough to drink.” he was mumbling and turning to continue his mindless walk into the trees but you were quick with your reply.
“you know damn well how old i am daryl.” your sentence was harmless enough but the way you said it made his skin crawl, heavy implication that he had put thought into your young age.
you were embarrassed as soon as you said it especially since as far as you were aware, it wasn’t true. you had no knowledge to the fact that daryl had spent countless nights thinking about your age and wondering if you thought about him that way too. he had caught you staring a few times and watched a little harder next time you were in the room, lingered a little longer to try and gauge your thoughts.
you were a completely mystery to him and now it felt like he was an open book to you.
did you really know how hard it was for him to be around somebody as tempting as you? was it that obvious that guilt was eating him alive for even considering a world where you’d want him as badly as he did you?
his body was frozen in place as your words hit him harshly and you were so focused on your own humiliation that you didn’t even consider his strange reaction.
“look can we just…” your voice was breaking and trailing off in a pathetic way that only furthered your embarrassment and you sighed. “can you look at me?”
at first you thought that he might ignore you all together, actually wondering if he’d just stand there like that until you gave up and wandered away to find your eventual death. you let out a breath of relief when he was turning halfway to glance at you and the conflicted look on his face was different than the anger you had expected.
“im sorry that i made you feel weird but you’re the only person i have left.” you were talking without thinking and it was the first time he heard you sound so unsure of yourself, shifting in place restlessly. “i really don’t want to fight with you.”
he didn’t say anything for a long time but the fact he hadn’t immediately gotten defensive was enough for you to feel a little relief and it was only furthered by the small head nod he gave you.
“better move. suns setting.”
——
you hadn’t noticed the sky turning into a pale orange when he had mentioned it but he was as accurate as always and in less than an hour there was a dark haze obscuring your vision again.
this time daryl was more proactive and it turns out he did actually have a plan and he wasn’t just walking in circles, leading you through the woods until you were reaching a small town that was more accurately just a few run down shops and a bar.
the place looked properly picked over but daryl wasn’t stopping and looking in any of the windows or broken down cars, clearly more focused on settling down for the night rather than finding stuff to take along with you.
you almost laughed when he was leading you towards the bar at the end of the street, almost forgetting what you had said about wanting a drink to cure your boredom.
you knew there wouldn’t be anything left over on the inside but the irony was still apparent as you climbed up onto a stool and tapped impatiently on the bar top. daryl was somewhere behind you, messing around with the door locks and pulling tables in front of it to block the entrance.
you looked over your shoulder to see him glancing at you, possibly half amused at the way you rolled your eyes and checked a non existent watch.
he surprised you by actually crossing the room and getting behind the bar, searching through the cabinets and drawers for actually helpful things but also coincidentally allowing you to continue having your fun.
“so… bartender.” your voice was higher than normal and you’d suddenly gained a much thicker southern accent than your usual light drawl. “im new to town. anything fun to do around here?”
he was finally turning to look at you and you watched him curiously as he tossed an abandoned washcloth over his shoulder like he’d been drying glasses, your gaze growing heavier when he put both of his hands flat on the side of the bar and leaned slightly forward.
“pretty dead this time of year.” his voice was low and his face was as emotionless as always but his joke surprised you into a loud and sudden burst of laughter, laying your head down flat on the wood for a few seconds.
you’d never necessarily considered daryl funny but the vibe had certainly shifted from your harsh argument earlier and you couldn’t help but smile at him when you finally picked your head back up, resting your chin on your palm.
he didn’t speak for a while but he didn’t seem like he was planning to shy away from your gaze. maybe daryl was more confident after the sun had set, the bar barely lit outside of a few oil lamps he had apparently flicked on while you were playing pretend.
“what if this was how we met?” you didn’t feel stupid as you spoke even though a few hours ago you would’ve willingly ran into a tree before asking something like that to him. he didn’t respond but you noticed his grip on the bar tightening until his knuckles were white. “would you be at a bar like this?”
at first he didn’t respond and once again you felt that fear creep up, the isolation of his silence lingering in the back of your mind. then he was chewing on the inside of his cheek before shaking his head.
“nah.” it was low and gruff but it was something, almost everything to you and you were leaning even further off your seat and into your palm. “ain’t paying for shitty beer.”
you nodded at his answer and it actually made a lot of sense to you that he was the type of guy who’d rather drink at home but you wanted to pout at the fact he wasn’t playing along with you and your overactive imagination. he could see the disappointment flickering across your face but your eyes were lighting up before he could try to fix it.
“but we are here right?” you start slowly like you’re trying to paint the same picture for him that you’re able to see, maybe with some music playing instead of the sounds of walker growls in the distance. he doesn’t say anything and you take his silence as permission. “and im sitting on this stool, babysitting some shitty beer.”
you slightly mocked his accent as you repeated his words back to him and he scoffed out a laugh at the sound of your thick and over exaggerated recreation of it.
your mouth turned up at the sound of him laughing but it quickly seized when you were sliding your jacket off your arms.
daryl knew what you were wearing underneath, he’d felt the warm skin you were showcasing last night around this time even and yet he still wasn’t prepared for the image of it. he’d seen you in less if he actually thought about it but the small tank top wasn’t necessarily the point rather than the picture you were successfully painting now.
he could actually imagine the two of you at the bar in some other world, you dressed in something that would keep his eyes on you while you pretended to like the drink some asshole had ordered for you.
it was easier to forget the fact you hadn’t been able to drink before the end of the world and this was probably your first time in an actual bar when you were looking at him like that.
he wondered briefly if you meant to be as intimidating as you were sometimes, especially now as you smoothly slid off the stool while keeping your eyes locked on his. you answered his silent question by stopping to flick off one of the oil lamps as you walked towards his side of the bar.
the process continued as you disappeared with the light just to come back again under the glow of the next lamp before once again darkening it
there was a sane part of him that was screaming about this not being the time or the place, reminding him how much was constantly at stake. this was dangerous, you were dangerous and in more ways than one.
especially now that all the lights were off and you were suddenly right in front of him again, not quite as dark or close as it had been yesterday but enough for him to understand that you were once again wanting something from him that he could not give.
your hands were back on him and smoothing over his chest and arms, a repeat of events but this time there was confidence in the way you were moving. you barely hesitated before tangling your hand in his hair and pulling him closer to your lips and he didn’t resist the movement, staring down at you with that same blank look on his face that drove you to insanity.
he flinched back as far as your hands would allow when you went to kiss him, rocking on your tiptoes for a second before landing flat on your feet and pouting.
“it’s only us left in the entire world.” your whispered statement was as much reality as it was an exaggeration but he understood the point you were making before you spelled it out. “nobody will ever know.”
it was ridiculous how much your demeanor shifted under the thinly veiled mask of darkness.
this time when you were making an attempt, he was allowing you to kiss him. the pace of it was feverish from the beginning and you felt slightly smug with some solid proof that he had been wanting this as much as you had, regardless if that had started last night or long beforehand.
he wasn’t needing a guiding hand to touch you anymore and you sighed into his mouth when his rough hands were on your lower back, pulling you into him harshly like he had momentarily forgotten his own strength.
that wasn’t something you were capable of and your entire body felt like it was on fire as you remembered the things he was capable of, the things you’d seen him do to protect the ones he cared about. it wasn’t lost on you that you were included in that and your mouth felt bruised and swollen when you momentarily stopped kissing him in favor of pressing your lips along his jaw.
“god you could hurt me.” your voice was a single breath and he was opening his eyes to look at you, making brief eye contact whenever you came up from his hot skin. his gaze was heavy and alarmingly emotional, almost like he was fearing what you would say for one reason or another. “but you won’t, such a good man.”
you could tell the praising words bugged him so you didn’t object when he was grunting and kissing you again, affectively shutting you up while sparking your interest in putting your tongue in his mouth.
he was painfully curious where you’d learned to kiss so dirty, the idea of you wasting it on some idiot highschool boy getting under his skin for some reason. you were simultaneously hoping you were doing everything right and pushing yourself backwards up onto the counter to try to seem more bold.
your hands were clawing at the wood to try to get a good grip and hoist yourself up but luckily he was paying attention, easily lifting you by your waist and placing you there like it was nothing.
daryl still couldn’t see you but now he could feel your legs wrapping themselves around his middle and pulling him forward until his core was pressed against yours, drinking in the sound of your whines when you realized the position you’d put yourself into.
now you could feel that he was turned on and the knowledge was dangerous to your growing ego, still longing to hear another sound from him or to get him to fully snap and take you like you wanted.
his silence remained steely and you figured he wasn’t going to dare speak and risk putting himself too presently in the situation, bad enough that he was kissing your lips and pressing you into the bar top like some horny teenager.
he knew he had a responsibility now and before the end of the world, a moral code that didn’t stop just because the laws did. he knew you were legally an adult and aged even more by the things you’d had to go through but it didn’t stop the fact that he was over twice your age and the only person you had left, something that was settling uncomfortably in his skin.
is that the reason you were doing this, slipping your hand down the front of his chest until you were tugging at the rough leather of his belt?
“stop thinking so much.” your voice was still as breathy as it was before but it sounded firmer now, wanting him to hear your words. he rested his forehead against yours as you undid his belt and the narrow glare of his gaze was making your head spin. “i want this, want you.”
daryl tried his best to heed your advice, listen to the pure lust dripping from your voice as you told him what any man would want to hear from something as beautiful as you. he ducked his head into your neck when you finished removing his belt and he tried not to be too hasty as he roughly pulled down your low rise jeans.
he weirdly hadn’t put much thought behind what you’d look like without clothes despite his concerning amount of time spent fantasizing about different scenarios.
maybe you’d find him stupid if you knew he more often pictured you sending a youthful smile his way or grasping onto his hand when you were scared rather than what it would be like to take you to bed (or the top of an old bar counter).
you’d most likely laugh in his face if you knew how badly he wanted to protect you, feeling a heavy darkness low in his gut at the thought of you in danger.
he was thinking this like your hand wasn’t back in his hair while you did your best to pull his jeans down with your heels, pulling him back into a kiss and trying to bring him back to the present moment. you were slightly pained at how much he was clearly overthinking but you were too far gone into your desire to let it stop you from having him.
it was easier for him to get out of his head when you were whining louder and louder as he entered you, tugging at his hair and clawing at his back to hear another pained grunt from him at the feeling of your nails on his skin.
there was a lack of words from both of you now even though you had plenty to say, longing to catch your breath long enough to tell him how good he felt. or rather ask him about what he was feeling, coerce him with your tightness so he was less likely to regret what you were doing.
you wanted to make sure he knew that you weren’t settling for your idea of the last man on earth, detail how much you liked the lowness of his weathered voice and how rough his hands felt as he fumbled to grab onto any bare skin of yours he could find.
there was no part of you that was ignoring the clumsy way he dragged you closer to the edge of the counter as you both started to reach your peak, desperation causing an obvious fever in him that was making him act more impulsively.
no regret surged through you as you finished around him, bringing him back into another bruising kiss with slower rocks of your hips to try to urge him to come undone too.
daryl was completely frozen after and you almost didn’t want to open your eyes to search the dark for the look on his face, preferring to stay in the hazy moment with him still inside of you and not yet closing back off at the realization of what you’d done, what he’d done to you.
his age was showing again in the way he was still careful with you afterwards despite his inner turmoil, pouring some of your last bits of water onto the cleanest rag he could find to help clean you up and even pulling you further off the counter so he could button your jeans for you.
it was almost romantic if it wasn’t for the hovering knowledge that what had happened was technically a mistake by all moral standards.
you’d instinctively reached for his hand as he cleared his throat awkwardly and went to back away from you, letting it linger between your two bodies as you slid off the bar and stood there in front of him.
the ashamed look on his face was expected but he was mildly surprised to see the wide eye stare you were sending back, peering up at him like he had hung the moon and the stars that were lighting your faces through the dusty windows.
you had plenty of time for him to shut you out and deal with the inward battle about the lines you’d crossed together but you weren’t going to give up that easily, squeezing his rough palm and following behind him like it was completely typical behavior for the two of you.
your heart was thawed out knowing he’d come around eventually, even if it was only in the late hours of the night where it was easiest to pretend you were the last people on earth.
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marblehazel · 10 days ago
Text
Teething
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dbf!Joel Miller x f!Reader
Joel was crowned as The Trusted Adult to accompany you to your wisdom teeth extraction appointment. Chaos ensued.
Tags: no outbreak, age gap, most likely exaggerated effects of sedation, sexual themes
Word count: 3.1k
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The skies were painted with shades of copper and lilac when you arrived home. A familiar pickup truck was parked in the driveway next to your dad’s own F-150, and you slipped your way through the narrow passage between the two to get to the backyard through the narrow side alley of your house, sticking twigs of overgrown shrub brushing against your arm.
Laughter bounced against the pillars supporting rusting canopy adorned with vines and wildflowers, echoing around the tiny dining area. Around the table were three men you could discern blindfolded: your dad and his friends, Joel and Tommy Miller. The three looked pretty scruffy, which made sense since they most likely just got out of work before they decided to have some beer and smoked ham time at your house. As usual.
Tommy made a comment about a boat and your dad and Joel burst out laughing again, almost shaking the earth with the lethal combination of old men’s simplistic jokes and immense vocal cords abilities.
They hardly noticed your presence until you put both hands on your dad’s shoulders, kissing the top of his head. He smelled like barbecue smoke.
“What’s so funny?” you grin. Joel greeted you with a polite nod, while Tommy put down his beer can to wave at you. “Hi Joel, hi Tommy.”
“Sweetheart!” your dad slightly twisted his torso to meet your gaze. “Tommy was telling us about his recent fishing trip. How was today?”
“Okay-ish,” you patted his shoulders once more before letting go and starting to make your way towards the backdoor, leaving the men to their fishing jokes again. “Have fun, guys.”
“Oh, before I forget!” your dad clapped. “I am so sorry, but I won’t be able to take you to the dentist this Thursday. They want me in San Antonio to overlook—”
“Daaad,” you groaned, although your face showed nothing akin to annoyance, just sorry. “I’ll see if my friend can take me.” you tried to comfort him, even though knowing your friends, you’d have a bigger chance of losing your teeth in a car crash than in the operating room.
“What’s happenin’?” Tommy furrowed his brows. “You okay?”
“I’m having my wisdom teeth removed,” you pointed at your cheek, the approximate area where the third molar of your upper right side of jaw was growing sideways. “One popped out and it’s growing weirdly, so I got an x-ray and it turned out all four of them are developing in such shitty positions, so, they’re taking them all out.”
“All at once?!” Tommy gasped, to which you nodded as you purse your lips.
“More cost-effective, or whatever.”
“Ouch.”
“I’ll take her,” all eyes went to the source of the voice: Joel. He was staring directly at your dad. “I’m free Thursday.”
“‘Ppreciate that, man, but—”
“Really?” you beamed, prancing your way towards his seat and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Joel!”
The man raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat while Tommy laughed. Your dad shook his head slowly at your endearing antics, his eyes meeting Joel’s as they silently said ‘Thank you, and sorry’.
The next time Joel’s gray Ranger pulled up in front of your house, you had been waiting on the porch with a smile worthy enough to be on a billboard advertising toothpaste.
.
The fog in your head started to clear just enough to let you notice the figure sitting by your side. Joel’s broad shoulders took up half the room—or at least it felt that way in your dazed state. His arms were crossed, and his brows furrowed as he watched you with what looked like mild concern. You blinked a few times, your vision wobbling like you were looking through a fishbowl. You couldn’t really register where you were or how you ended up here yet.
“Hey,” he straightened his posture up the second he realized you were awake.
“Whoa,” you slurred, pointing a wobbly finger at him. “You look good.”
Because he did. That was the first thing you noticed about him. You couldn’t remember if it was exactly true, but a voice in your head told you that Joel always looked good. You believed it. And he did right now, with clothes all ironed, beard trimmed, hair combed. Joel wouldn’t admit it, but he’d even put some styling powder on his hair today.
His lips twitched, and he scratched at his beard, unsure of the appropriate response to give. “Uh, thanks. How are you feeling?”  
You ignored the question. “Does my dad know you’re here?”  
“Yeah,” he said slowly, leaning closer. “He was there when I said I’d take you here, remember?”  
“No.” You deadpanned, voice thick and blunt. Your tongue scraped against your gum, and it touched some soft, fibery, wet cotton balls. You almost gagged.
Joel sighed. “Alright. Uh, pain anywhere? Are you comfortable?”  
You tilted your head, as if trying to access some hidden inner truth. Then, with startling conviction, you announced, “Sweaty.”
He quickly raised from his seat, reaching for a handkerchief in his pocket to wipe your forehead with when you suddenly choked into tears. You could barely get the words out through the swollen jaw, numb tongue, and spiky throat. “I miss my daddy…”
You felt like the saddest child in the world. You didn’t know where your dad was, but most importantly, your brain wasn’t able to assess where he might be. But he wasn’t here. And that alone was enough to send you spiraling into agony.
Joel looked around awkwardly, clearly out of his depth. “Sweetie,” he said, reaching out to pat your cheek gently. “I’m here.”
You blinked up at him with wide, glassy eyes, your bottom lip trembling. “Where is he? Did he sell me to you?”  
“What?” if only you were sober enough to see the expression on his face. 
Tears continued to pool in your eyes, spilling down your cheeks. “What am I supposed to do, being sold to a person like you?”  
“Person like me—What’s that supposed to mean,” Joel withdrew, seemingly offended momentarily before he realized he was talking to a group of at most six brain cells, half of them blackout drunk.
“Hot,” you sniffled. “Hot like you.”
Joel freezed. His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment before he muttered, “O…kay. Uh, let’s call for a nurse, okay?” He stood up and looked toward the hallway.
“I don’t even know how to be a housewife!” you lamented, gesturing wildly toward a painting of sand dunes on the wall. “You’re going to dump me in the middle of a desert!”  
“Honey,” Joel said, his voice strained but calm. “Nobody is dumping or selling anybody, okay? Just—wait here. I’m gonna go get a nurse. I’ll only be gone for, like, five seconds.”  
You watched him disappear behind the wall, your lips quivering as you began counting on your fingers. “One… two… three… four… five…” You looked up at the hallway, waiting for Joel to come back as you realized how alone you were in the room. You didn’t want to be alone. The fluorescent light was hurting your eyes and the air smelled like a dentist’s office. You were in one, but you didn’t really register that. Panic set in like a tidal wave. “Joel?” 
“Joel! JOEL!” You thrashed in the chair, trying to swing your legs over to touch the ground, ready to bolt after him like some kind of lovesick lunatic. It was hard, like you were learning controls for a video game for the first time, and your limbs didn’t move the way you wanted them to. Joel returned with a nurse moments after. She was holding a clipboard and if not for the mask hiding her expression, Joel would have seen that she was wearing a smile that looked dangerously close to a laugh.
“You’re back! I thought you were leaving me…” your voice cracked as you reached out toward Joel with snot running freely down your upper lip. “I’ll be a good wife from now on, Joel, I promise.”  
“Oh,” the nurse said sweetly. “Sounds like someone’s still a little loopy.”  
Joel ran a hand over his face, mortified. “Sorry about that.”
“It’s alright,” she smiled at him before checking on you. “Definitely not the worst I’ve witnessed. You’ll be okay, won’t you, sweetheart?”
You nodded.
She asked you to open your mouth, and you attempted to talk to Joel the entirety of it, moving your heavy tongue around, making barely coherent noises. At one point you reached for his hand and he took it.
“Hoew, wa ho hayhee hee hahee?” which would translate to ‘Joel, was our wedding in Bali?’, like Joel would’ve been able to decipher it. He just played along in hopes to shut you up.
“Yes, yes, of course.” he cupped your hand in his.
“Okay, now bite down with pressure, okay?” the nurse said softly after pulling the blood-soaked cotton balls out and replacing them with new ones. You did as she said. “That’s good. Thank you.”
“No, thank you.” you smiled at her. “You’re so nice.”
“And you’re so nice, too.” she said as she gathered her clipboard and metal tray. “We’re all clear here, you are free to go home. If you prefer to wait out until she’s not so disoriented anymore, please use our waiting room since we have to clean this one before the next patient.”
“Thank you.” Joel nodded politely at her.
“Any more questions you’d like to ask the doctor?”
“I think we’re all covered. Thank you for everything. Let’s go, sweetie.” he helped you stand up, and the second he let go your body leaned, craving to touch the floor. Both him and the nurse reached out to you, crashing their heads in the process.
“Ow!” she yelped.
“Sorry, sorry. I got her. I’m really sorry.” he slightly bowed down as he held you steady, one palm planted on your ribs just below your breasts.
“Sorry,” you parroted, utterly oblivious to what just happened.
“It’s alright,” she laughed lightheartedly as she reached down to fix your shoelaces. “There you go.”
“Thank you again. We’ll stay out of your hair now.”
.
After what felt like eighty years, Joel finally got you on the passenger seat. He could feel his lifespan shortened significantly, and his back hurt so much trying to crouch to your level as he guided you across the parking lot. He should’ve just carried you—would’ve been much quicker and better for everyone involved.
You touched the dashboard, feeling the texture underneath your fingers like it was the first time you got in a car. Joel closed the door next to you and scurried his way around the car hood to the driver’s side, sighing when he got in.
“Joel, what’s your favorite pie?” you asked as he leaned over to put your seatbelt on, hand fiddling with the belt when it got stuck and you instinctively ran your fingers through his hair. 
“Pecan,” he muttered, body getting tense under your casual yet intimate touch.
“Oh, I had pecan pie at my house recently.” you withdrew your fingers as Joel straightened up and put his own seatbelt on. “We’re like, soulmates, or something.”
Joel started the car. “Yes, that was me. I brought the pie to your house.”
“Wow, you’re so kind.” you smiled, eyes tearing up, as if bringing you pie was the equivalent of saving all kittens in the world. Joel rolled his eyes and shifted the gear from neutral, and the two of you slowly moved out of the office parking lot to the road.
You cupped your own swelled cheeks, feeling the spherical cotton balls nested between your jaws. “I don’t like these, Joel.”
“Yeah? Wanna take them out? Do you think the bleeding has stopped?” his eyes ran between you and the road in front of him back and forth, getting ready to merge onto the highway.
“My mouth is so full,” you whined, and you fished one cotton ball out, all wet and slightly red, before rolling the window down and throwing it out. It bounced on the dry concrete behind you briefly before it got run over by another car.
“Hey, no littering! And keep your arm inside, my fucking god, d’ya wanna lose it?” Joel yelled, one arm leaving the steering wheel to pull your hand into the car and close the window back up, almost taking up the lane next to you. A semi-truck passed through and the driver honked their horn, deafening. You snarled at it while Joel mouthed a quiet ‘fuck’.
“I still got more inside,” you pointed at your open mouth, like Joel couldn’t tell from your slightly muffled voice still.
“I know, but either keep it in your mouth until we get home, or find some—I don’t know, plastic bag to keep it in, alright? Try the glove box.” he points at the compartment in front of you. You fiddled with the handle, and when it opened it revealed a little toolbox, a pocket knife, a folded map, and two dusty condoms from God knows when.
“Joel, what is this?” you pinched one out for Joel to see, voice thick with betrayal. “You’re cheating on me.”
Good fucking god. Joel snatched the thing out of your hand, shoving it back into the glove box before slamming it closed. He shouldn’t have been panicking like you were actually his bride and he’d been two-timing you after work, because you weren’t, and the only thing that had been in touch with his dick in the past six months was his fist. “I don’t know how it got there. It’s from a while ago.”
But the damage had been done. You covered your face with your hands, eventually took the remaining cotton balls out and let them go onto the floor mats. Joel winced.
“What should I do? Is my blowjob not good enough?”
Joel was the most uncomfortable he had ever been his whole life right now, and he once witnessed his friends’ parents hitting it crazy style with the same banana pudding that was served at dinner smeared everywhere when he was there for a sleepover, so that was saying a lot.
“You have never—what are you fuckin’ doing?!”
You had leaned over as much as your seatbelt allowed you to, fingers reaching to unbuckle his belt. “I’m gonna show you how good I c—”
Joel lost control of the steering wheel as he tried to shoo you away, but you latched your palm around his bulge like leech. He accidentally turned the truck too much to the left, switching lanes without warning, and abruptly hit the brakes for a split second when he thought he was going to crash into a Camaro, almost slamming you forward if not for the seatbelt. Three cars honked at the two of you as they passed, one was generous enough to give you the finger.
He pushed you back to your seat, both of you huffing and puffing. There was silence for about thirty seconds until Joel composed himself.
“What the fuck did they put you under, because I need some,” he muttered under his breath before speaking clearer. “Put your hands on the dashboard. Now,” he commanded, eyes flicking between you and the road.
“Why?” you mumbled, your fingers twitching like they might reach for Joel’s belt again.
“Because I said so,” Joel grunted, shifting in his seat to try to hide his hardening length, jaw tense as he kept one hand firmly on the wheel. “You wanna be a good wife, don’t you?”
You blinked slowly. Joel was right, you wanted to be a good wife.
“Yeah,” Joel continued, eyes narrowing slightly, still focused on the road. “Only good wives put their hands on the dashboard.”
“Really?” you laughed, the sound drifting lazily out of you. But you planted both palms on the dashboard anyway, sunlight pouring on the back of your hands, warming them up. 
“Yeah—yeah,” he muttered. “Look it up.”
“I can’t, my hands are on the dashboard,” you frowned, chin pointing towards your splayed fingers.
Joel rolled his eyes, letting out an exasperated sigh. “You just have to believe me, then.”
You thought of it for a second before nodding. “Okay. I believe you.” 
He glanced at you, eyebrows lifting. “You should. You’re my wife.”
Your head tilted, a lazy grin spreading across your face as you processed the words. You’re my wife. Somehow that was the most beautiful string of words you had ever heard. “Am I a good wife?”
“Sure. You got your hands on the dashboard. Guess that makes you a good wife,” Joel said. Your loopy grin was infectious despite his best efforts to stay stoic.
“I’m a good wife,” you repeated to yourself, beaming.
There was a beat of silence before you leaned slightly toward him, eyes bright, head swaying with the motion of the truck. “Are you a good husband?”
Joel’s grip on the steering wheel tightened for a split second, his gaze flicking to the side, then back to the road. “...I don’t know. Do you think I’m a good husband?”
“Yeah,” you said immediately, so sure of yourself as you gathered the evidence in your hazy brain. “You took me to the dentist. You got me pecan pie.”
Joel scoffed, his hands tightening on the wheel. “Driving and pies, guess that’s the key to a successful marriage.”
.
By dinner time you were already out of your groggy state, although the pain started to creep back in despite the painkillers that you just sat in the living room with a frozen pouch of CapriSun pressed against your cheek. Joel hadn’t said much but he did stay until your dad got home.
He had hoped you blacked out and didn’t remember anything from earlier. He wasn’t sure if he could live knowing you were able to remember that you were so eager to put your mouth on him, on top of you calling yourself his wife, on top of you casually admitting you found him hot.
And because he got hard in the car. He didn’t know if you saw it but for his own peace he would like to believe that you didn’t.
Joel was a little bit grateful that Tommy wasn’t there because he would never let this die.
He would never let this die himself.
When your dad set some burritos for Joel and applesauce for you on the counter, Joel was ready to go home and get drunk while pondering in the shower.
“You’re leaving already?” you licked the applesauce, tasting it innocently, and Joel had to remind himself that licking applesauce was not a sexually enticing act.
“Yeah, working early tomorrow. Get well soon.” he stood awkwardly as he pocketed his keys.
“Thanks a lot, man,” your dad got up to give Joel a hug with his back facing away from you, and you stared Joel dead in the eyes as you mouthed playfully: ‘Husband.’
His lips twitched. Seemed like he would never know peace ever again.
684 notes · View notes
cumironi · 2 months ago
Text
FILM 01. OOPS! WRONG ROOM!
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☆ sum. because of yuuji’s stupid prank, you decided to give him the taste of his own medicine and prank him in the middle of the night. but, because, sometimes, in the middle of the night you lack common sense, you accidentally climb the wrong room and end up in his older brother’s room.
warning. non-sorcerer au, fluff, harsh-words (curse, etc), crack, sukuna accidentally slap you :').
☆ , DECEMBER, WHEN WINTER FINALLY COMES
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11 PM.
you stand in front of the two-story house, a determined look on your face and a backpack slung over your shoulder, weighing heavily with the tools of revenge you brought along. the night has fully settled, with the sky draped in inky darkness, only broken by the faint glow of the moon. a cool breeze brushes against your face, making you pull your jacket tighter around yourself as the branches of nearby trees sway and scrape against one another, filling the quiet night with an eerie creaking sound. in the distance, the faint chirping of crickets echoes through the silence, adding to the sense of stillness.
you glance at your reflection in the darkened window of a parked car, catching sight of your hair in the moonlight—a sickly shade of blue that catches your eye and makes you clench your fists. “yuuji itadori,” you mutter under your breath, teeth clenched. the anger flares up in your chest again, hot and insistent. it was all his fault. that idiot and his stupid pranks. you’d thought you could trust him, that he was just being nice when he suggested a “fun” hair treatment. but now, thanks to him, your hair looked like a mess, a ridiculous blue that was nothing like the color you’d agreed on.
tonight was the night for revenge.
you sling the backpack higher on your shoulder, its contents shifting slightly, and mutter to yourself, “say goodbye to your precious hair, you fucking bastard.” you know yuuji’s going to regret the day he ever thought of pulling a prank on you. your feet carry you to the side of the house, stepping lightly over the grass as you survey the windows. in all your visits here, you realize you never actually paid attention to where yuuji’s room is. that oversight might slow you down, but it won’t stop you. the anger bubbling in your chest is more than enough to keep you focused.
determined, you scan the side of the house, eyeing each window in turn. your gaze falls on a room with a tiny balcony, faint light seeping through the curtains. you pause, hearing muffled laughter. a grin spreads across your face—of course, that has to be his room. the laughter sounds like yuuji’s, and who else would be awake and laughing at this hour? you take a deep breath, suppressing a triumphant chuckle of your own.
carefully, you approach the thick, sturdy tree beside the house. its branches stretch outward like bony fingers, offering you a path up toward that balcony. your fingers brush against the rough bark as you grab hold of the lowest branch and hoist yourself up. the tree is old, its bark rough and uneven, making it easy to grip, but the branches are high enough that you have to stretch and carefully pull yourself from one to the next. the creak of wood under your weight fills the air, and for a brief moment, you freeze, afraid that you’ve made too much noise. but the house remains silent aside from the faint sound of yuuji’s laughter filtering through his window.
one branch at a time, you climb higher, your heart pounding harder with each step. the wind catches your hair, making the blue strands sway in the breeze, reminding you exactly why you’re here. the closer you get to that balcony, the more your grin widens. this is it. you’re almost there.
as you near the last branch, excitement pulses through you, but it’s quickly overshadowed by a rush of fear as your foot slips on a patch of moss. in a split second, you’re thrown off balance, and your heart skips a beat. you gasp, feeling yourself sway, and instinctively, you blurt out, “oh shit!”
your hands fly to the trunk, gripping it tightly as you hug the rough bark, holding on for dear life. your heart hammers in your chest, pounding so hard you can hear it in your ears. you take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, the reality of what almost just happened sinking in. the cold bark scratches against your cheek, but you don’t dare move, frozen in place, caught between relief and lingering fear.
after a few seconds, you force yourself to loosen your grip slightly, taking a few deep breaths to calm your racing heart. glancing up, you see the branch you were aiming for, just a bit higher. it’s within reach, but now, your legs feel a little shaky. the thought of slipping again makes you hesitate, but your anger and determination to get back at yuuji push you forward.
with renewed caution, you carefully adjust your footing, triple-checking each step, and finally manage to reach that last branch. once you’re stable, you let out a sigh of relief, silently thanking whatever luck you have left. hugging the trunk one last time for reassurance, you shift your focus back to your mission—yuuji’s room is just within reach.
at least that’s what you thought.
finally, you reach a branch that stretches close to the balcony. it’s a little risky, a bit of a jump, but you’ve come this far. you steady yourself, crouching on the branch as you judge the distance. taking a deep breath, you lean forward and make the jump, landing on the narrow balcony with a soft thud. you quickly grab hold of the railing to steady yourself, glancing at the window to make sure your entrance hasn’t been noticed.
through the gap in the curtains, you can just make out yuuji lying on his bed with his back on you, his phone in hand, laughing at something on the screen. completely oblivious. perfect.
you reach into your backpack, pulling out the can of temporary neon green hair dye. it’s obnoxious, bright enough to be seen from space, and will make yuuji’s hair look ridiculous. it won’t be permanent, but he’s going to have a hell of a time trying to wash it out. satisfied with your plan, you pop open the lid, taking a quick glance through the window to make sure he’s still distracted.
you carefully, silently ease the window open just enough to slip inside. his laughter continues, completely oblivious to the danger creeping up beside him. your footsteps are soft as you step onto the carpeted floor, your eyes locked on yuuji as he scrolls through his phone, still chuckling to himself. you can’t help but roll your eyes—of course he’d be laughing when he’s about to get pranked himself. irony at its finest.
but. . .
your heart stops as the person on the bed snaps around, and before you can even react, a startled scream tears from his lips. his hand flies out in reflex, catching you square across the cheek and sending you sprawling back onto the carpet with a sharp, stunned yelp. pain radiates from your cheek, your vision blurring slightly as you clutch the spot where he struck you.
“oh, fuck!” you groan, the sting spreading across your face. you struggle to sit up, blinking away the dizziness. the reality of the situation hits you hard as you finally look up and realize… this isn’t yuuji.
no, it’s his older brother, sukuna.
he sits on the bed before standing up in quick motion, his eyes narrowing as they bore into you, a mixture of irritation and dark amusement flickering in his gaze. his face is almost identical to yuuji’s, but the atmosphere is entirely different—cold, intimidating, and absolutely confused.
sukuna’s eyes rake over you, taking in your presence in his room. it quickly changes from surprise to annoyance. “what the hell are you doing here?” he snaps, tossing his phone aside. he crosses his arms over his chest, the muscles in his forearms flexing. “and how did you even get in here?”
you can feel the tension in the room growing palpable. he’s clearly not happy about your unexpected entrance, and your cheek is still throbbing from where he hit you. you swallow hard, struggling to find your voice amidst the adrenaline still pumping through your veins.
sukuna’s eyes are fixed on you, his brows furrowing as he takes in the sight of you, sprawled on the carpet. his irritation is apparent, but there’s also an underlying hint of curiosity, like he’s trying to figure out what to make of this unexpected intrusion. “care to explain what you’re doing in here, sneaking around like a damn rodent?” sukuna growls, his voice sharp and impatient. “yuuji didn’t invite you here tonight, did he?”
sukuna stands there, hands planted firmly on his hips now, sharp eyes taking in every detail of your appearance. he recognizes you vaguely; he’s seen you hanging around his house on occasion, always with yuuji and his usual group of idiotic friends. though he’s never bothered to learn your name or really acknowledge your presence, your face has become familiar enough to him that he can place you instantly. he watches you carefully, as though trying to piece together why you would take such a risk to sneak into his room, of all places, with such an audacious plan.
your head shakes in small, hurried movements, your hand still pressed against your cheek, trying to muffle the sting from his slap. “n-no… yuuji didn’t invite me,” you manage, your voice barely above a whisper, the words tumbling out awkwardly as you bite your lip to keep from wincing aloud. your fingers press gently against the sore spot, feeling the heat rising under your skin where his hand had connected.
“i thought you were him,” you admit, the explanation sounding weaker with each passing second. sukuna’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes flicking from your cheek to the blood at the corner of your lip. he just stands there, one hand on his hip while the other falls flat on his side, eyes narrowed, sizing you up like he’s assessing a stray cat that’s somehow wandered into his territory.
sukuna’s eyes narrow, watching every move you make, his irritation not softening in the slightest. he moves to sit on the edge of his bed, crossing his arms over his chest once again, looking down at you with a mixture of annoyance and mild interest. his gaze flickers from your swollen cheek to the faint trace of blood on the corner of your lip.
“you thought i was yuuji?” he repeats, voice laced with disbelief, as if the very idea of being mistaken for his younger brother is an insult in itself. “how do you even confuse the two of us?” his tone drips with condescension, his gaze searing into you as you struggle to sit up, holding your cheek to ease the throbbing pain.
the adrenaline is still making your head spin, and your cheek stings with every slight movement. “i don’t know, i…i just came to prank him,” you mumble, voice barely above a whisper as you bite your lip, trying not to whimper at the soreness radiating from where he slapped you. “i thought you were him.”
sukuna scoffs, clearly unimpressed with your explanation. he stands up, towering over you, placing his hands on his hips once again as he gives you a once-over. “right. and now you look like a kicked puppy,” he mutters, almost like he’s annoyed that he feels the slightest bit of guilt over the reflexive slap. he rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated sigh, as if your injury is an inconvenience to him.
“you’re bleeding, you know,” he says with a grimace, nodding toward your lip. “might want to do something about that.”
your hand flies up to your mouth, fingers brushing over the blood at the edge of your lip. you wince as the pain flares up, and sukuna watches with an unreadable expression as you dab at the spot, failing to hide the pained hiss that escapes your lips.
“for someone sneaky enough to climb a damn tree and break in, you’re pretty fragile,” he comments dryly, his eyes still fixed on you as if trying to make sense of the situation before fixed to the spray hair dye beside you on the floor for a second. “what the hell were you planning to do, anyway? spray yuuji’s hair while he’s sleeping and hope he’d just laugh it off?”
you nod, feeling a little foolish now under his intense gaze, the can of hair dye still lying on the carpet where you dropped it. “it was just supposed to be harmless fun,” you mumble, glancing down, feeling a bit exposed under his scrutiny.
sukuna’s lips twitch into a smirk at your explanation, his annoyance softening into amusement, though it’s laced with a hint of disbelief. “harmless fun?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow. “so, you thought it would be funny to sneak into our house and mess with my brother while he’s sleeping?”
his tone is sharp, the words falling from his lips with an edge that stings more than the slap, his eyes never leaving you as you sit there, holding your cheek. it’s obvious he’s not buying your excuse, but he’s too damn entertained to show it.
you let out a long sigh, resigning yourself to the ridiculousness of the situation. shifting to sit cross-legged on the carpet, you look up at him, feeling a spark of defiance flaring back up. “did you see my hair?” you ask, gesturing at the strands of blue cascading down your shoulders. “it’s all yuuji’s fault.”
sukuna’s brow arches, his smirk widening as he watches you, clearly intrigued but still not entirely convinced. “is that so?” he drawls, folding his arms as he leans slightly against the bedpost, his gaze never leaving you. “and what exactly did he do that made you think you could just break in here?”
you roll your eyes, the memory of yuuji’s previous prank making you scowl slightly. “oh, he thought it’d be hilarious to dye my hair neon blue while pretending to help me dye my hair,” you explain, crossing your arms in annoyance. “i was just trying to get him back. didn’t expect the wrong itadori to be here.”
sukuna lets out a scoff, a sound that might be a stifled laugh. “so you wanted revenge, huh?” he says, his smirk growing wider. “and you thought breaking into our house and sneaking into my room was the way to do it?”
he steps closer to you, his eyes scanning over your figure, that smirk still dancing on his lips. “you’ve got guts, i’ll give you that,” he mutters, his voice a mix of annoyance and grudging respect. “but damn, couldn’t you have chosen a less idiotic plan?”
as sukuna takes a step closer, the sudden shift in his expression sends a jolt through you. instinctively, you scoot back, clutching at the fabric of your clothes as if that’ll somehow guard you from the piercing intensity in his gaze. the smirk on his lips is still there, but there’s something in his eyes—something unreadable—that makes your heart skip a beat.
“w-what are you doing?” you stammer, trying to sound firm, though your voice betrays you with a slight tremor. you don’t break eye contact, refusing to let him see any weakness, but your pulse is racing.
sukuna chuckles, low and dark, as he watches you. “relax,” he drawls, tilting his head with that infuriating smirk of his. “if i wanted to kick you out, i would’ve done it already.” he pauses, gaze flicking over you once more, as if he’s sizing you up. “just curious, that’s all. you break into my house in the dead of night, sneaking around like a cat burglar, and then you get all jumpy when i walk up to you? if anything, i should be the one asking what you’re doing.”
you grit your teeth, trying to steady your breathing. “i… i told you, it was just a prank for yuuji. i didn’t expect you to be here.” you try to keep your voice steady, hoping the indignation overshadows the nervousness bubbling under the surface. “and can you blame me for being cautious? you slapped me as soon as you saw me!”
his gaze softens, just for a moment, like he’s remembering the slap—and the faint tinge of guilt flashes across his expression before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. he gives a half-shrug, still smirking. “maybe i overreacted,” he admits. “but you barged into my room.”
sukuna lets out another scoff, this time a little softer, almost amused by your obvious discomfort. he takes another step closer, closing the distance between you even further, and again, you involuntarily shrink back. the smirk on his lips grows wider, as if he’s enjoying how unnerved you are, despite your best efforts to hide it.
“relax,” he repeats, his voice a low, taunting rumble. “i won’t bite.”
his eyes never leave yours, studying your every reaction keenly, like he’s trying to catch every flicker of emotion that crosses your face. “you’re trembling,” he comments, a hint of mockery in his voice. “why, are you afraid of me?”
a pause as he crotch down, leaving just a few inches between you. his hand reaches out, moving towards your face, and you reflexively flinch at the unexpected touch. sukuna pauses, his fingers pausing just a breath away from your skin, before brushing over your swollen cheek. “does it hurt?” he asks, his voice surprisingly gentle, almost concerned.
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest as you muster up a dry, sarcastic tone. “what do you think?” you snap, meeting his gaze without flinching this time, though your cheek still throbs from the sting. his fingers linger on your cheek for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if contemplating something. the concern in his voice had surprised you, but now you’re more annoyed than anything, wondering if he’s just toying with you for his own amusement.
sukuna’s lips twitch into a faint smirk at your response. “feisty, aren’t you?” he murmurs, clearly amused by your defiance. “guess you’re not as fragile as you look.” you huff, trying to ignore the way his hand feels against your skin, warm and oddly gentle. “did you expect me to just sit here and whimper?” you fire back, arching an eyebrow at him. “maybe you should work on your welcoming skills.”
he chuckles, a low, rumbling sound that sends a shiver up your spine. “i don’t usually have uninvited guests,” he replies, his smirk widening. “especially not ones with the guts to talk back.” the tension between you both lingers, charged and heavy, as his hand falls away, leaving you to realize how close he is, still crouched in front of you.
sukuna reaches into the drawer by his bed, pulling out a small box and setting it on the carpet in front of you. you watch as he opens it, revealing a surprisingly well-stocked first-aid kit—cotton swabs, antiseptic wipes, bandages, and more.
“what… are you doing?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. the idea of sukuna, the one who slapped you moments ago, now tending to your wound feels too surreal. sukuna doesn’t answer immediately, his eyes focused as he pulls out a cotton swab and some antiseptic from the small box. he glances up at you briefly, his gaze unreadable, before he dips the cotton in the antiseptic. “hold still,” he says, his voice quieter, almost like he’s trying not to scare you off.
you feel your brows knit together, watching him suspiciously. “what are you doing?” you ask for the second time, shifting slightly as he leans in closer, his intense gaze making it hard to look away.
“what does it look like?” he says, a slight edge of irritation coloring his tone, though he doesn’t break eye contact. “i’m cleaning up the mess i made.” he reaches toward your cheek, you instinctively tense up, but his touch is unexpectedly gentle. the antiseptic stings slightly as he dabs it onto your skin, and you can’t help but wince. he moves the cotton swab across your cheek, waiting a beat to make sure you won’t pull away.
“don’t be a baby,” he mutters, though there’s a faint trace of amusement in his tone. you roll your eyes, trying to keep your composure. “maybe if someone didn’t slap me…” you mumble, unable to resist throwing some sarcasm back his way.
sukuna lets out a snort, his lips twitching into a half-smile. “maybe if someone didn’t sneak into my room in the middle of the night,” he retorts, the edge to his voice lessening slightly as he continues tending to your wound. “can’t blame me for being startled, now, can you?”
his eyes are fixed on your face, his expression serious and focused as he works, and you struggle to keep yourself from reacting to his touch. despite his previous aggression, his movements are oddly careful, almost as if he was worried about causing you more pain. “i’m taking responsibility, aren’t i?” he retorts, but his voice is noticeably softer than before.
he continues to clean up the wound on your cheek, his gaze never leaving your face. his touch, despite the initial start, is careful and precise. there’s something almost tender about his actions, but his expression remains composed, revealing nothing more than mild annoyance. “you’re surprisingly docile when you’re quiet,” he notes, the corner of his mouth twitching with amusement.
sukuna’s eyes flicker up to meet your gaze, the hint of a knowing smile on his lips as he continues to gently apply the antiseptic, his touch both tender and precise.
his words take you by surprise, the uncharacteristic compliment causing your cheeks to flush slightly. you open your mouth to shoot back a retort, but for some reason, the words don’t come as easily as they did before. “i… just don’t want to give you another reason to slap me,” you manage to stammer out, trying to sound defiant but instead finding yourself a little flustered.
sukuna lets out a chuckle, his eyes narrowing amusedly as he sees your flustered reaction. “you’re not as tough as you act,” he says, a hint of mockery in his tone. “i’ve seen scared rabbits with more backbone than you.”
he stops applying the antiseptic and sets it aside, his hand moving to grab a small bandage from the first-aid kit. his gaze drops back to your cheek, his expression strangely serious as he carefully applies the bandage. “you lucked out that i was in a good mood,” he adds, his voice quieter.
you roll your eyes, letting out an exaggerated scoff as sukuna’s words sink in. “oh, i feel so honored,” you reply sarcastically, the dry bite in your tone impossible to miss. you lift a hand to feel the freshly placed bandage on your cheek, not sure if you’re more irritated by the sting or by the smug expression he’s wearing.
with a glare, you turn to really look at him, noting for the first time just how much he resembles yuuji—the same face shape, the same strong build. but the similarities end there. where yuuji’s face is open and kind, sukuna’s is sharp, his features only intensified by the black tattoos and those unsettling deep crimson eyes that seem to pierce right through you.
your gaze holds his, and you let out a low murmur, almost daring, “so... what would you do if you weren’t in a good mood, then? eat me?” you quirk an eyebrow, attempting to match his intensity, though there’s a part of you that’s not entirely sure if you’re joking.
sukuna’s lips twitch at your sarcastic response, his smirk widening as he watches your reaction. his eyes follow your hand, watching you touch the bandage. he notices the hint of irritation in your expression, but he seems to revel in it, his gaze sharpening as you meet his eyes.
at your question, his smirk turns into a wolfish grin, his eyes gleaming with an almost feral glimmer.
“maybe,” he replies, his voice dropping to a purr-like grunt, “if you keep testing my temper, who knows what i might do.” he tilts his head slightly, studying you with a mix of irritation and mild amusement.
sukuna’s smirk widens and his eyes roam over you with that bold, shameless look, you can feel your cheeks heating up against your will. his tone is low and teasing, each word laced with a dangerous, sultry undertone that makes your stomach flip.
you feel your cheeks flare up, and you can’t hide the way your body reacts to sukuna’s bold comment and the way his gaze trails over you with that dangerous glint. that smirk of his only gets wider, more amused, as he takes in your flustered expression making your stomach crunches. it’s like he’s toying with you, fully enjoying the effect he’s having.
when he drops his voice and mutters that sultry, “i’ll make sure you feel good, though,” it sends a shiver through you, one that you quickly shake off. ignoring the warmth rising to your face, you roll your eyes and lift your foot, giving him a swift kick to the shoulder. it’s not hard, but it’s enough to send him sprawling back onto the carpet. “ugh, fuck off, you pervert,” you huff, crossing your arms as you glare down at him.
sukuna’s eyes widen slightly at your unexpected kick, stunned for a moment before he lets out a laugh, his body thudding against the carpet. he lands flat on his back, a mix of surprise and amusement on his face. he doesn’t sit up right away, just lies there, the smirk on his lips growing wider as he looks up at you, obviously finding your reaction very entertaining.
“pervert, am i?” he quips, raising an eyebrow as he runs a hand through his hair. “big talk from the one sneaking into my room at night, hm?” the smirk still on his lips as he gazes up at you, his eyes narrowing in a way that’s both infuriating and captivating.
sukuna pushes himself up to leans on his two elbows, looking up at you with that infuriating smirk still firmly in place. “seems i touched a nerve,” he purrs, his voice smooth and low. “all i did was say i’d make you feel good. you can’t honestly say that was perverted.” he pauses for a moment, his gaze flickering up and down your body in a way that feels almost like a caress. “i wonder,” he continues, his voice dropping to a murmur, “what other buttons i could push to get those cute little reactions out of you.”
your eyes widen as his words sink in, a mix of embarrassment and irritation flaring up inside you. with a gasp, you instinctively cross your arms over your body, as if shielding yourself from the weight of his gaze. “are you serious?” you sputter, heat creeping up your cheeks.
you quickly gather yourself, and before he has a chance to react, you reach out and give his shoulder a solid shove, enough to make him fall back onto the carpet with a thud. “you are such a pervert,” you snap, your voice laced with annoyance as you glare down at him.
sukuna lets out another laugh, unbothered by your shove. he lands back on the carpet, his body sprawled out once more. he doesn’t make any move to get up again, just lies there with that irritatingly smug expression on his face.
“you’re so sensitive,” he teases, his tone mocking. “i haven’t even done anything, and you’re already blushing. makes me think you secretly like it when i talk dirty.” he props himself up on his elbow, tilting his head with a smirk. “or maybe it’s just my charming presence.”
your eyes narrow at him, cheeks burning as you bite back the urge to say something that might fuel his ego even more. “shut up,” you snap, your voice laced with irritation as you glare down at him. sukuna’s smirk fades slightly as he looks at you, a curious glint replacing the usual cockiness in his eyes. he studies you for a moment, almost as if he’s seeing you in a new light. then, with a slight tilt of his head, he sits up, resting his elbows on his knees.
“what’s your name?” he asks, his voice a bit softer, though there’s still that edge of intrigue. you blink, taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanor. it’s rare to see him ask something so straightforward without a teasing or mocking tone. for a second, it feels almost... genuine, like he actually wants to know.
“why?” you retort, trying to keep the edge in your voice despite the way his gaze makes your heart race.
he chuckles, leaning back slightly. “can’t a guy be curious?” he shrugs, his eyes not leaving yours. “i see you hanging around here often enough. figure i might as well know what to call the bold little intruder.”
there’s a playful glint in his eyes, but underneath it, there’s something that feels almost… sincere. you look at him with a mix of suspicion and surprise, narrowing your eyes as you try to gauge his intentions. why was he suddenly so curious? sukuna’s never exactly struck you as the type to care about formalities, much less asking someone’s name without some ulterior motive. but, still, under that sharp gaze of his, you feel a small sense of obligation to answer.
“…it’s y/n,” you mumble, the words slipping out almost involuntarily as you avert your gaze, feeling oddly self-conscious under his stare.
at the sound of your name, sukuna’s smirk softens into a slight smile. “y/n,” he repeats, testing the sound of it on his tongue. the way he says it makes your stomach flutter, like the smooth sound of a purr. the syllables rolling off his tongue like a low, appreciative rumble. there’s something about the way he says your name that sends a small shiver down your spine.
he eyes you for a moment longer, his gaze unreadable as he studies your face. his expression is surprisingly soft, the usual sharp edge of mockery missing from his eyes, replaced by a subtle warmth. “y/n,” he murmurs again, almost to himself. then, he grins. “a pretty name for a pretty girl.”
the compliment takes you off guard, your cheeks feeling warm under his gaze. you open your mouth to retort, to brush off his comment with some snarky response, but the words get stuck in your throat. sukuna clearly notices your reaction, his smirk widening into a cocky grin. “mmm, cat got your tongue?” he teases, his voice low and silken. “can’t handle a little praise?”
you feel your heart race as sukuna’s gaze lingers on you, his words lingering in the air like a heavy, unexpected compliment. it catches you off guard, and for a moment, you're left speechless, your mind struggling to come up with a response. you try to brush it off, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays the effect his words had on you.
“shut up,” you manage to stutter, but the words come out far softer than you intended. flustered, you quickly grab the nearest pillow and hurl it toward him with surprising force. it smacks him in the face, but you’re already on your feet, desperate to put some space between you and him.
“god, you’re such a pain,” you mutter, though it’s barely audible as you try to walk away, still feeling the sting of his compliment on your skin. sukuna lets out a low, amused chuckle as the pillow hits him. he sits up properly, grabbing the pillow from his face and holding it in his lap. his eyes follow you as you hurry to put some distance between you, a small smirk playing on his lips.
as you mutter your frustration under your breath, sukuna watches you with a mix of curiosity and satisfaction. your flustered reaction to his compliment, the way you tried to flee, only piqued his interest further. “aww, where are you going?” he calls out teasingly. “come back here, don’t be shy.”
you pause mid-step, glancing back at him with a raised eyebrow, trying to ignore the way his amused tone makes your pulse quicken. crossing your arms, you tilt your head and give him a skeptical look, masking your own lingering embarrassment with a cool expression. “are you enjoying my company now?” you ask, your voice laced with dry sarcasm. “i thought you were annoyed that i showed up unannounced.”
sukuna grins at your reply, leaning back against the side of the bed, his demeanor relaxed and at ease. he holds the pillow up in one hand, absently tracing the edge with his fingers as his gaze locks on you.
“can’t it be both?” he responds, his tone nonchalant. “i’m annoyed at your lack of respect for personal space, but i gotta admit, you’re not entirely unpleasant to look at. or be around, maybe,” he pauses for a moment, his eyes flickering over your figure. “and it was kind of funny watching you squirm just now.”
you let a slow smile spread across your face, folding your arms as you tilt your head, watching him with a mischievous glint in your eye. “oh? should i stay a bit longer then?” you say, your tone light and teasing, each word a subtle challenge.
sukuna lets out an exaggerated groan, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance as he pushes himself up to stand. he shakes his head, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “don’t push your luck,” he mutters, but there’s a flicker of something almost playful in his voice that undercuts the warning.
you let out a soft chuckle, uncrossing your arms and let it fall down to your side “oh, come on,” you say, a teasing smile playing on your lips. “i thought i was at least ‘not entirely unpleasant’ to be around. maybe you’re warming up to me.“
sukuna’s eyes narrow ever so slightly as you respond with a smirk of your own, a flicker of amused irritation crossing his face. he lets out a low scoff, not quite able to hide the hint of amusement in his voice.
“don’t get cocky,” he retorts, the warning tone in his voice contradicted by the playful glint in his eyes. “just because i called you pretty doesn’t mean i don’t find you irritating.” he takes a step toward you, his gaze never leaving yours as he crosses his arms across his chest. “and i never said i was warming up to...” he trails off, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a moment before shifting back up, meeting your eyes with an intense look. “i was just stating a fact,” he continues, his voice lowering to an almost whisper. “you’re not bad to look at, that’s all.”
you roll your eyes at him, letting out a small scoff. “asshole,” you mutter, crossing your arms defiantly. but before you can get too comfortable, you feel sukuna’s hands on your back, firm and insistent, as he starts to nudge you towards the window you came through.
a pout forms on your lips as you drag your feet, resisting slightly. “come on,” you whine, looking up at him with a mock hurt expression, knowing it’ll only irritate him more. “i still want to stay. you’re such great company, after all,” you add with a smirk, your tone dripping with sarcasm.
he lets out an exasperated sigh, his grip on your back firm but not rough as he tries to shove you out. “don’t push it,” he growls, his patience clearly thinning. you can see the twitch in his jaw, and the way his eyes narrow, as if he’s seconds away from throwing you out the window himself.
but you just laugh, twisting around to look up at him with a mischievous grin. “why are you so eager to get rid of me, huh?” you tease, leaning back slightly to stall his efforts. “is it, maybe because you just can’t handle my charm?”
sukuna’s eyes narrow at your relentless stubbornness, his grip on your back becoming even more firm as he tries to guide you toward the window. but you resist, planting your feet like a stubborn mule, and his irritation only grows. as you whine and pout at him, throwing sarcastic jabs at his expense, sukuna grumbles, his patience stretching thinner with every word you speak. he leans in, his face close to yours, his eyes locking onto your defiant gaze.
“your charm?” he mutters, his voice low and laced with annoyance. “more like your irritating persistence.” he gives you another forceful shove, pushing you closer to the window. “just go,” he says, his voice carrying a hint of finality. “before i change my mind and shove you out myself.”
you cling to the railing, balancing precariously on one leg as you tilt your head up at him, a playful pout on your lips. even with half your body hanging out the window, you’re determined to get one last rise out of him. batting your eyelashes dramatically, you lean in, giving him an exaggerated, innocent look. “are you sure you won’t miss me?” you ask in a sing-song tone, your eyes glinting with mischief. you can see his jaw tense, his eyes narrowing in frustration as he glares at you.
sukuna’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching at your relentless stubbornness and irritating persistence. he's tempted to throw you out the window right then and there, but your dramatic pose and exaggerated puppy dog eyes give him pause. “oh, please,” he mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes. “you’re a headache, a nuisance. what would i miss about you?”
he’s clearly trying to hold back, to keep his emotions in check, but your audacity and lack of fear continue to rile him up. his eyes dart to the window, considering whether it would be better to simply push you out and be done with it, but there’s something about the cheeky sparkle in your eyes that makes him hesitate.
you let out an exaggerated sigh, clutching the railing as you give him your best pleading look. “come on, sukuna,” you whine, batting your eyelashes, “can’t i at least leave through the front door like a normal person?”
his expression darkens, an irritated smirk tugging at his lips as he leans in, his hand pressing firmly on your shoulder to keep you steady but clearly inching you closer to the edge. “you’re leaving the same way you came in,” he mutters, his voice low and laced with annoyance. you can’t help but grin, finding his exasperation oddly satisfying. “aww, don’t be like that,” you tease, “i thought maybe you’d warmed up to me by now.”
his jaw tightens, and he gives you another nudge, his patience clearly wearing thin. “i’m this close to tossing you out myself,” he growls, but there’s a flicker in his eyes, almost like he’s holding back a reluctant smile. with a little laugh, you swing one leg back over the windowsill, making a show of dragging out your departure. “fine, fine,” you say, raising your hands in mock surrender. “i’ll go. but i know you’ll be thinking of me after i’m gone.”
“out!” he barks, finally giving you a proper shove that sends you stumbling backward onto the balcony. as you regain your balance, you can’t resist flashing him one last smirk, blowing him a kiss just to rile him up one more time. his eye twitches, and he slams the window shut with a huff, leaving you on the balcony—but not before you catch the faintest hint of amusement in his expression.
sukuna stands by the closed window, his hands clenching into fists, his jaw taut with irritation. he glares through the glass, his eyes fixed on your smirking figure. the last bit of patience he had snaps as you blow him a kiss, his expression darkening further. he slams his hand against the window, the sound echoing through the room. “get lost, dammit,” he mutters to himself, his voice carrying a hint of frustration.
you roll your eyes at his dramatic display, taking your sweet time as you turn toward the branch you used to climb up. “seriously,” you mutter under your breath, half amused, half exasperated. “he’s such a bipolar jerk.”
with one last glance over your shoulder, you see him still standing there, fists clenched and glaring daggers through the glass, as if you’d somehow infiltrated his inner sanctum and messed with his world. it almost makes you laugh—you can practically feel the annoyance radiating off him even from here.
“goodnight to you too, sukuna,” you mumble sarcastically, stepping onto the branch. as you begin to make your way down, you hear a faint, frustrated huff from inside. with a small, victorious smirk, you descend, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having left him riled up and flustered in his own room.
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tubbytarchia · 1 year ago
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Etho doodles in which I let my inner dinosaur nerd take over 😔 and also have no idea how to shade
Get it cause he's old and washed up haha... ok but actual raptor Etho hybrid justification below cut
To be honest the main reason was because I really wanted a hybrid in the mix who wasn't some furry creature and a reptile or amphibian or smth instead. Etho still ended up feathered but whatever it's close enough! But for ACTUAL reasoning:
He does feel damn ancient, like an old deity of the mcyt space that no one can dislike. Dinosaurs are the same!! They're old but still thought of with great fascination and fondness, everyone loves dinosaurs...
Dinosaurs are ever so mysterious, as many advancements as we make there's still so much we don't know. Just as we know jackshit about mister Kakashi skin man. Also, there are so many incomplete skeletons out there. I didn't have a particular species in mind for Etho, because where's the mystery in that? He can be one of those 5% skeleton 95% speculation dinosaurs like this guy!! Missing jaw and all
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"I'm a runner, not a protector" - so, a raptor, or more specifically the Dromaeosauridae family, which literally has "running/runner" in its name
But! I'm always a fan of stuff going against its nature, especially in this case! Etho states he's not a runner yet protects his allies rather fiercely even in total silence. Eg refusing to kill Cleo in SL or to give away Tango's location during the LimL manhunt, same for Grian in SL. He was a bit flaky in 3L I think? And he only started to have genuine care for allies in LL with Bdubs? Though he is still very much a runner in many cases like during the LL Wither fight. Research also strongly suggests that most if not all raptors were solitary hunters, and the way I see Etho (through my shamefully limited watchtime of his POVs...) he feels a lot like someone who ultimately only trusts himself at the start even if he's pleasant and allying with others, and doesn't seem to think he can carry his weight in groups though he doesn't voice this a lot. That's just how Etho is, very composed, but it feels like there's an insecurity there, showcased especially in SL but again I haven't seen almost any of his POVs in full so maybe I'm talking out of my ass!! Sorry ethogirls I'm only a sidegig ethogirl myself... But yeah tldr to me he gives off the vibe of an otherwise solitary animal struggling to find 100% sure footing in a pack. In whichever ways he does go against his nature, its not usually made a show of
At the mention of a raptor, a lot of people will probably think of the glamourized Jurassic Park Velociraptors. But those awesome guys from the movies are actually the size of chickens. In general though, dinosaurs tend to be a bit.. exaggerated in media, despite how inherently fascinating they already are. And I think it fits Etho because we all know how the Lifers seem to fear and mancrush on him when he's just some dork with perfect capability to become pathetic at a moment's notice. Still, he's a clearly skilled player and still respected without question Etho's not some killer machine like some people make dinosaurs out to be. He's just a fellow creature fulfilling his role in the ecosystem 👍
dinosaurs are cool
The hook-like sickle claws on the feet... something something fishing rod
I swear I'm not turning all my Lifers into hybrids I'm not!! Still plenty normal humans in the mix I swear....... But Etho is such a radical dude, I really wanted to do something more for him. The whole Kitsune thing that I often see associated with him is really cool. I don't actually know the reasoning for it but I assume something something naruto, but also, him being this ancient mythical cryptid who people know so little about, you know? It makes SO much sense. So anyway I turned him into a dinosaur instead rawr
As a herbivore advocate I also considered stuff like the triceratops (known for how they protect themselves and their own) but nah the raptor symbolism...
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coralinnii · 3 months ago
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"Eyes are Windows to the Soul"
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↳ Admiring your Dark Brown eyes
feat: Idia ❋ Sebek ❋ Kalim ❋ Trey genre: fluff note: no pronouns were used for reader, set before Book 7 (mostly because I haven’t finished it yet),
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Idia grew up sheltered in a sterile world, filled with LED lights and sleek metal walls. Shades of brown were not common in his daily routine, so he didn’t have a lot of opinions on it. 
In a world of neon blue and cold silver, your brown eyes ironically stood out in Idia’s world. 
Your eyes remind him of fluffy brown kittens, filled with warmth and mischief. You remind him of those adorable teddy bear prizes in claw machines that everyone covets. You were everything he dreams of holding, but often out of reach.
That is until the two of you grew closer, then he sees your eyes in the ice-cold colas he’s chugging during long grinding sessions with you. He feels a tingling sensation when he sees your eyes in the dry autumn leaves crunching beneath his feet whenever you drag him out to “touch some grass” 
Your brown eyes remind him of everything fluffy and warm, of fuzzy feelings and snugness. 
Your eyes give off energy, but it’s not scary or overwhelming at all. Rather, it’s soft and enjoyable like a refreshing drink on a hot day.
You seem so out of place in his old world, but Idia couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore.
”Uggh, that cat is just too cute, what a sensory overload! Huh, when did brown cats become my fav? I-I guess kinda recently?”
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Sebek holds himself with prestige and integrity, a well-kept man with honor to uphold. 
But his experience is filled with the great wilderness, with the natural and unbending beauty of the forest. He proudly recalls his childhood living close to the world of fae and nature. 
You were a human. Your upbringing was nothing like his own, a pair of opposites with nothing in common
But, when you look at him with your sweet brown eyes, Sebek sometimes feels lost in nostalgia. In your eyes, he sees the beautiful trees of his homeland, he sees his beloved worn-out books in his bookshelves passed down by his grandfather. 
Not only his childhood memories, Sebek feels the same feeling of familiarity in his current lifestyle. He’s reminded of the joy and excitement he feels when he trusts his whole self to the majestic brown horses in the campus wooden stables. 
Is it because just like his trusted steed, your warm brown eyes effortlessly shine with so much strength?
Lost in your eyes, he recalls feelings of comfort and home, a connection to what makes Sebek…himself. Though he may not admit it, the stubborn young man finds solace just by staring into your eyes.
"Do I ever feel homesick? Of course I do! I simply… haven’t been feeling all that distant from my homeland as of late”
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Kalim is not only surrounded by shades of brown, but also reds, yellows, greens, and everything else in the large spectrum of color. His world is bright and vibrant, never a dull moment for the boisterous heir. 
You fit right into his life, adding more happiness to his routine. Your existence gave off a sense of wholesome, sweet fun. You join him in his highs yet keep him grounded when he flies too close to the Sun
To anyone else, Kalim lacks nothing in terms of riches. He is financially blessed for generations to come, and Kalim is not ignorant enough to deny otherwise. 
But lately, whenever he watches you, he ponders on what the word “rich” truly meant to him. 
Some would call your brown eyes pretty but rather plain, but regardless Kalim would catch himself swimming in the hue of your irises. 
In your eyes, he sees the deep color of expensive cognac that many would gift his parents, he sees the color of flawless leather prized by countless merchants, and he sees the color of fertile soil that nurtures and feeds his country. 
If someone were to ask his opinion, Kalim would say that richness and pricelessness could be defined by your eyes. Kalim may have an abundance of gold and silver but there is no price that could compare to the look of pure love in your exquisite eyes.
"Have you ever seen a chocolate diamond before? They’re really pretty with a wonderful shine. I really like them, I’ll show you one someday!”
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While he isn’t against dabbling in certain subjects and interests, Trey has a pretty solid idea of his future, to become a patissier and to either inherit his family's bakery or start his own business. 
Trey doesn’t see himself as anyone extravagant nor does he really want to be. Sure, he may be in a prestigious school, and he may hold an enviable position as a vice-Housewarden, but the green-haired senior holds himself more modestly. 
You knew well of his humble dream, and he appreciated the way you would support him however you can, be it a taste tester for new recipes or assisting him in the kitchen before a busy unbirthday party. 
In this close proximity, Trey is allowed more chances to glance your way, especially your eyes. 
He sees the resemblance in your eyes the color of the chestnuts you collected with the mischievous freshmen, the first day he noticed how cute you were. He’s reminded of warm brownies and cookies he would bake in secret just for you, all to see those very eyes sparkle. He imagines a brick house in the same shade as your eyes, where he’ll live out his peaceful life with you.
In your warm brown eyes, he feels reassurance and security. Trey doesn’t need a lavish lifestyle or a grand plan. All he could wish for is a life where he could bake cakes and pay taxes with you.
“I’m not exactly the most romantic with words, but I do like your eyes. They remind me of…my oven. Ah, that sounded a bit…” 
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