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moonchildxoxx · 5 months

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Fated Encounter

Author’s note : hey guy it’s been a hot minute life’s been hell lately but here’s a little something until I have another prompt done which please send them in I’ve lost my whole inbox except 2 requests

When So’lek arrived to the resistance main camp he was told that someone from the Omatikaya clan had come to speak to get more information and they were outside in one of the caves waiting for him. When he arrived to the cave the female had a fire going cutting some fruit . Without looking up she spoke “ you are the one leading the resistance on the western frontier?” Spoke the female

“Yes , how did you find our location?”So'lek asked. “The Aranahe pointed me in the right direction “she answered. She offered him some of the fruit she was cutting. He leaned back in his seat and picked at the fruit she had given him as he considered her answer. “ we wish to work with your group out tactics are working but it would be better if we worked together “ It made sense why she was here then.

"How long are you staying?" He asked, getting more and more curious about her purpose being here . “ a few days at least to go over what we have been doing and what are your groups plans So'lek nodded again. This answer didn't completely satisfy him, but he decided against pressing her further for the time being.

”This fruit was very good, thank you." He picked out another piece of fruit and bit into it. She finally looked up at him but did not answer him He could tell she was still watching him. "What are you looking at?" he said with his mouth full of fruit.

"You look familiar, " she spoke softly.

So'lek raised an eyebrow as he swallowed the fruit. "How so?" He didn't quite believe her. How could he look familiar to her?

Maybe she has seen another Na'vi like him. He waited for her answer, his eyes focused on her.

“The first attack of retaliation against the sky people’s mining” she spoke

So'lek's face completely changed. A new level of seriousness overcame him as he remembered the event she was talking about. "You were there?" He said, trying not to raise his voice.

The thought that someone he knew could still be alive after all this time never even crossed his mind. But he didn't want to get his hopes up. She might be referring to someone else.

"Y/N?" So'lek repeated the name with a solemn expression on his face. He looked at her with a hard stare, waiting for her to continue.

She removed paint off her face revealing the scar that went from the middle of her forehead to the tip of her left ear.So'lek looked shocked as her face was slowly revealed. It could not be.

"Y/N?" Is that you?" he said, still stunned. He sat up a bit straighter as he tried to get a better look at her face.

He hadn't seen her in years, so he didn't immediately recognize her.His voice was shaky as he spoke. What if it wasn't her and he was imagining things? That mark was just like her's, but he hadn't seen that mark in a long time.

Their eyes locked as she processed what she was seeing. He looked just the way she remembered. It couldn't be a coincidence. She had to make sure before getting her hopes up.

"Say the word you used to say to me when we were kids." She asked her voice barely above a whisper So'lek was stunned. He was not expecting her to recognize him so quickly. Her eyes were now tearing up as she looked at him.

He wasn't expecting her to ask him that though. He cleared his throat. "hi'i txe’lan." He whispered back to her. The name he has always used with her. He couldn't believe it either. All this time and she has returned. It was all he hoped for for so long. "It is you." He said after a moment.

After he spoke she let out a small gasp. He watched her expression shift as she confirmed that it was him. She couldn't hold in her emotions any longer as tears begin to fall. He had to wipe away his own tears as he looked at her.

"It's really you," she said as the tears continued to flow. "I lost hope that I would ever see you again," she continued, her voice choked. "But you are here." So'lek looked at her in amazement as tears freely fell down her cheeks. He too started to tear up again at her words. He had thought her lost for so long.

He slowly moved closer to her. The feeling of having her near was overwhelming in the best of ways. "Y/N it is really you." He embraced her, wrapping his arms around her, holding her close, taking in her familiar scent. "I've missed you." He whispered in her ear before pulling away. He looked at her, trying to see the same friend that he had a childhood with. All the time they had played together. When their world had still been peaceful.

"I've missed you so much " she spoke lowly she raised her hand gently caressing his cheek

He looked down at her as she caressed his cheek with her soft hand. So'lek's eyes were locked on to every feature of her face, taking in every detail of her appearance again after so many seasons. He took a step closer, slowly pulling her hand towards his mouth so that he could kiss it. "After so many moons without seeing you." So'lek paused. He had so many things to tell her. He leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"I can't believe you remember that name ." He said softly after kissing her hand once again.

"I'd never forget oeyä tstew txe'lan" she replied

He gave a light chuckle as he heard her say those words again. She was remembering their childhood. "You remember it?" He said with a smile. He looked back at her and took her hand in his. So'lek thought back to the days when they would get lost in the tall bushes of their forest.

Where they would run around and play. Where the rest of the world didn't matter because it was just them against the world. "I never thought I would see you again." He said to her. "Not after those years."

"I stayed with the Omatikaya after I heard no word from you, their Olo'eyktan offered me a chance to join them, so I took it" He listened intently when she started speaking about her time with the Omatikaya clan and how she came to be here. "I tried to find our clan after the battle." So'lek said. He looked away as he recalled the painful memories. The images of the battle replayed in his mind. The death of his friends and family constantly flashed on his mind when he least expected it. "It's been too many moons without you." He said.

I’m sorry So’lek but I need to return meet with the rest of my group but I will come back okay?" She spoke. So'lek was surprised to hear that she was headed back so soon. He had so many things he wanted to talk to her about.

He nodded at her, "It's okay...when will I see you again?" he said, still a bit confused.

"Please remember to come back."So'lek held onto her hand, not letting go. "I've missed you."

"I will come back" she promised

So'lek looked a bit sad as she talked about needing to leave again. He wondered why she was already heading back to her clan. But So'lek reluctantly backed away and let go of her hand after she gathered the horse's reins. "Then I will see you soon." He said to her while staring at her softly. He looked away for a moment. Her visit had been a pleasant surprise, yet so quickly she was about to leave. He only wished he could have seen her for longer than just a day.

"Take care of yourself." He said to her. She had just returned and was already taking off again, just like how they lost each other all those seasons ago.She mounted her ikran and flew off.

Later that night she returned her belongings strapped to her ikran. So'lek was sitting outside his shelter when she had returned in the late night. He was looking at the stars when he noticed the sound of her ikran. He rose to his feet and approached her as she landed her ikran on the ground. "Y/N!" He called as he ran up to her. The sight of her was such a welcome sight at night. She had only spent a day with him, but seeing her was as good as gold. "I didn't think I would see you again so soon. What brings you back?" So'lek said with a big smile. "you did not really think I was going to leave you after being apart for so long now did you?" He chuckled as he looked at her. He was still surprised to see her again. He could hardly believe it. "Did you accomplish what you needed to?" So'lek asked, wondering about her trip.

"Yes and I also thanked them for accepting into the clan but it was time for me to find a new adventure "

So'lek nodded. "A new adventure you say?." So'lek was intrigued by this. "And what adventure would that be?" He slowly raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "Ma Solek being with You, did you really I would leave your side once I found you again oeyä tstew txe'lan ?" So'lek looked touched by her question.

The old familiar nickname that she always called him during his childhood. It was like he was a kid again hearing the nickname and her gentle smile.

He looked back at her and gave a faint smile. He was glad that she remembered and gave him a nickname again. "Ma Y/N. I didn't, and I don't want you to go. I want to be by your side, to be with you again in every season," so'lek said to her. "Good, now how about you tell me how you ended up with the all the way out here?".

He cleared his throat before continuing. "After all these moons of searching and not finding you or our clan, I settled down on the edge of the Aranahe land ." He took a deep breath.

He hesitated to tell her what had happened. "Then...one day this group came up to me . They were searching for more Na’vi to help the western frontier resistance. And I had no one else to turn to." So'lek explained.

"You felt a need for revenge and joined the resistance " she finished for him

So'lek froze in place at the mention of revenge. That word was like a dagger to his heart. It was painful to admit it aloud to her. But he couldn't deny it when she guessed it right. He slowly turned away and looked at the ground, ashamed to admit what happened next. All the time his heart was hardened and his soul taken over by the anger within him. "Yes, revenge is all I lived for at one time." He said without looking at her. It was a hard truth to admit aloud. He didn't want to tell her this.

She pressed their foreheads together. So'lek felt her forehead against his. He closed his eyes and sighed slightly. He looked back and returned the gesture to touch their foreheads together. Their bond was stronger than he could have imagined.

He looked back at her and smiled.

"Ma'Y/N." he said quietly. He had never been this close to her in their childhood. He was grateful for this moment now. So'lek just wanted to cherish the feeling of knowing she was next to him again. “ I am here “ she spoke gently

So'lek nodded to her words. He had her by his side again, the same feeling he felt during their childhood. They didn't need to talk about the past right now, He continued to smile as they were close to one another. They could continue to spend time together. So'lek looked down at her again. It felt like a dream. This moment being back with her. She chuckled softly just happy she had found him again So'lek looked back at her again. Seeing her laugh made him smile again.

He gently caressed the side of her face with his knuckles and pulled her closer to him slowly.

He wanted to hug her for all the seasons he lost without her. He wanted to feel her close to him again. So'lek just wanted to forget about the past and look at her. His long-lost friend, now so close to him again.

A few nights later So'lek and Saren were inside his shelter after it rained. He was cooking some dinner for him and Saren. The smell of food filled the room. They both sat in front of the fire that So'lek lit up on the side of the room. It was a cozy moment, them both sitting down on a rug in front of the fire.So'lek was smiling and looked over at her. This could be their chance to talk about what happened during their time apart. As She helped him prepare the meal she gently hummed a song from their clan one he had not herd another voice singing in almost two decades. So'lek was sitting on one knee as he cooked the ingredients. He listened intently to Y/N humming. His ears picked up every single note. He looked over at her again before slowly walking over to her. So'lek listened to her humming. It felt like he was at the gathering of hunters and hearing his people again. He continued to listen until she stopped humming. So'lek took a seat next to her and just listened to the sounds of them both breathing. "Ma'Y/N," he said while staring at her.

“What is it is my heart" she answered softly. So'lek held her hand and looked her directly in the eyes. He wanted to say so much, but he didn't where to begin. "Y/N...!..." He hesitated before speaking but knew that he had to. He couldn't keep it all inside of him anymore. So'lek then spoke the words he had kept inside of him for so long. The words that he didn't speak so many seasons ago. "I love you." He said quietly, looking away for a second as he spoke from his heart.

She moved to his side gently putting her hand against his cheek making him look at her " ... you love me ?" She whispered softly Solek nodded and looked at her again. His heart started to race a bit, but he knew it was right to say this to her. "Yes, Y/N...I have been in love with you for so many seasons." He said, softly touching her face. "I'm sorry I didn't say this to you sooner." So'lek couldn't hold back his feelings anymore. After all these years, he no longer feared what would happen if he told her. He knew that he wanted her by his side forever.

She learned forward kissing him her hand never breaking contact with him So'lek was surprised to feel Y/N's lips against his. It was not what he was expecting, but he welcomed the feeling of her touch. The sound of their breathing mixed together in a pleasant way that he had never heard before. He pulled her closer to him, allowing their chests to touch as their lips continued to meet. So'lek gently put his hands around her waist, wrapping them around her in an embrace.

Her presence against him felt natural and So'lek wanted to keep it that way. She pulled away once out of breath resting her head against his " I love you too ma So'lek " So'lek took a deep breath once their lips separated. He stared into her eyes and watched her, the flames of the fire making her face glow. He had wanted to tell her for so long, but he feared what she would say in return. But now he knew that she felt the same way after all these moons. So'lek wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer to him again. He brought his face closer to her and nuzzled her neck gently. "I love you." He whispered again to her softly.She caressed him, So'lek felt Y/N’s touch and he enjoyed the feeling.

He brought his face closer to her neck and started to kiss her neck. The warmth and softness of her skin caused a soft smile. She caressed him So'lek felt Y/N's touch and he enjoyed the feeling. He brought his face closer to her neck and started to kiss her neck. The warmth and softness of her skin caused a soft smile. So'lek kept his eyes closed as he slowly continued to kiss her neck. He enjoyed the feeling of her on his side. He felt so happy knowing that she loved him back. So'lek continued to kiss Y/N's neck as he held her close to him. He brought his lips lower on her neck, leaving small pecks on her skin. His hands caressed her body, running up and down her body. He pulled himself slightly back so that his eyes met hers. "Kiss me Ma'Y/N ." She smiled moving closer to him kissing along his neck and his throat So'lek felt her lips kissing along his neck. It was almost ticklish yet felt nice at the same time. He enjoyed the feeling of her touch. His body trembled slightly at the feeling of her lips against his skin. She had made him feel different that night.

So'lek put a hand on her face and looked into her eyes. He wanted to appreciate this moment with her forever. The fire burned softly next to them, and he could feel the heat of the flames.

He pulled her even closer to him. wanting more of her touch. "Tell me what you want ma Yawntu

" She murmured.

So'lek looked at her briefly, feeling a little bit of a blush on his face. He chuckled softly and looked her in the eyes.

He smiled to her words and was silent for a moment. He thought it was best to tell her how he felt that night. "I want you Y/N..." he whispered softly while gently touching her chin.

His heart raced at the thought of her knowing what he wanted exactly. He had enjoyed spending every season with her next to him.

She was his first and only love.

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#avatar 2009 x reader #avatar frontiers of pandora #so’lek #so’lek frontiers of pandora #jake sully x reader #neteyam x reader #tsu'tey x reader #avatar 2009 #avatar movie #tsu'tey x y/n #jake sully #ao’nung #lo’ak x human reader

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arafilez · 3 months

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☆ ⼂ PUNCH THE WALL ﹗

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ skz ot8 x any reader ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤangst, estb. relationship ㅤ warnings arguing, moderate cursing, and anxiety attack ㅤ﹢ㅤ0.2k per member wc ㅤㅤ pt 2 here ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ og request ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤOMG YOU TAKE REQUESTS YESSS OKAY how about skz reaction to their s/o punching the wall (and immediately regret it)in the heat of an argument - anon

◗ ៹ BANG CHAN ›

“Let’s sit down, and talk this out properly,” Chan says getting tired of the argument with each passing second. It is tiring how you are bringing up every small topic just for the sake of arguing.

His eyes widen the moment your fist lands on the wall and cringes at how you instantly wince from the pain. He remains still, watching your breath become more even.

You stare at your palm in shock not realising why you did it anyway. You are not that type of person at all.

“There are better ways of subsiding your anger,” Chan speaks up, slowly taking your hands in his and inspecting your knuckles. “Let’s get you a painkiller,” he whispers, kissing your cheek and you nod looking down.

“I don’t know why I did that,” you stutter out barely and he smiles handing you the tablet and shrugs saying, “Anger is a strong and restless emotion, it is important to learn how to control it. For example, you can tear up some paper into small pieces and make sure all pieces are small.”

“I will work on it,” you smile lightly and he nods encouragingly, “I know you will, darling.”

◗ ៹ LEE KNOW ›

You can’t do this anymore, if he retaliates one more time you might just punch the wall. Minho’s words pass by your ear and you feel a quick blood rush and punch the wall behind you.

The pain takes over immediately as you press your hands to your mouth as a whimper passes out of your throat. You can’t believe you just punched a wall. You never do that.

You hear Minho’s footstep coming towards you and he holds your hand inspecting your knuckles quietly. You keep your head down, ashamed, knowing you have crossed a line while he makes you sit on the couch. Taking out the first aid kit, he slowly dabs an ointment around your bruised knuckles. You watch him carefully and let out a quiet sigh before looking up at him.

“Don’t apologise, you gave yourself enough punishment,” he chuckles and continues, “Things like these happen. Doesn’t mean you are a toxic partner.”

“Thank you,” you reply, a sob choking your throat, “for everything.” You let out a weak smile and he smiles back lightly pecking your lips to cheer you up.

◗ ៹ SEO CHANGBIN ›

The picture frames rattle loudly as your fist lands on the wall and suddenly the room becomes quiet. The tension is thick as you open your fist and your hand rests where you have just punched while Changbin stands in a distance.

You are not this kind of a partner, you never are. Then why did you do that?

“You will beat me in punches in a gym,” Changbin’s voice enters your ear and you look at him mouthing, “Sorry.” He walks towards you and slowly takes your fists in his hand and continues, “Come on that one was funny.”

“Changbin I am so sorry,” you start crying, over sensitive from all your emotions and frustrations and the way you just expressed it. He holds you close and then hugs you till your sobs subside and turn into small whimpers against his neck.

“We all have bad days,” he whispers and continues, “But next time talk to me, don’t keep it to yourself.” You nod rapidly hugging him tighter, the regret now slowly being pushed to the back of your mind at his comfort.

◗ ៹ HWANG HYUNJIN ›

You give one last look to Hyunjin before your fist hits the wall in anger and you pant in rage. Regret takes over your feature almost immediately and you turn around to look Hyunjin frozen in his place and his eyes widening in shock and fear. Your resolve falters in a fraction of a second and you take a step towards Hyunjin.

“Hyun I swear-“ you start only for him to harshly cut you off, “Save it.” You slap your hand over your mouth to stop a sob escaping your mouth. You can’t believe what you did, this is not you.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Hyunjin exclaims and you open your mouth trying to explain yourself but he stops you telling, “Apply some meds and we will talk when you are calmer.” Saying that he leaves the room, making you rethink your decisions again and again.

◗ ៹ HAN JISUNG ›

Jisung’s breath fell short and the room felt like spinning as soon as he sees you punch the wall. He gasps loudly, holding the table near him and his vision starts to blur. He can feel the anxiety attack coming and he can do nothing about it.

You regret as soon as you did it but looking at Jisung the feeling worsens and you run to him. You hold him in your arms and whisper out, “I am so sorry baby.” You walk him slowly to the couch and he slumps down, gripping the couch handle rather strongly and you wince. Slowly unwrapping his fingers you hold them and look him in the eye.

“It’s me and I am sorry,” you whisper and hand him the water bottle as he shakily takes a sip from it. Panting slowly his vision clears and he finally sees your tear-stricken eyes and hugs you as you repeatedly say ‘sorry’ over and over again.

You love him so much, hand you wish he can forgive you which unknowingly maybe he did.

◗ ៹ LEE FELIX ›

Imagine you are minho 😭

“Oh shit,” you curse loudly at the wincing pain in your knuckles as you punch the wall and Felix’s eyes widen but he doesn’t move from his place. You hold your fist and press your lips together but the whimper doesn’t go unnoticed by Felix who grabs a painkiller and a bottle of water.

“I didn’t mean to-“ you start but your boyfriend cuts you off saying, “Sit down.”

“Okay,” you oblige and he hands you the water bottle which you gladly take sipping on it lightly. His eyes scan your feature full of remorse and he rubs his hands over your knees whispering, “Relax, it’s alright.”

“It’s not and you know it,” you choke out and look away unable to look at his kind eyes. “Let’s talk about it, yeah?” he proposes and you nod smiling lightly and his eyes light up at your acceptance.

◗ ៹ KIM SEUNGMIN ›

“Kim Seungmin,” you snarl at him, “I am warning you.” Seungmin’s indifferent sigh angers you to your last extent and you look at him straight in the eyes and punch the wall beside you. You quickly retreat your hands as soon as you do it, shock and remorse washing over your features.

You look at him and see him stare back at you, mouth parted and eyes holding annoyance as he speaks, “So you talk with your hands now.” You shake your head lightly looking away, ashamed of yourself. A scoff of disbelief leaves his mouth and Seungmin pokes the inside of his cheeks eyeing your figure.

“I am sorry,” a sob escapes your throat as you say it out loud and Seungmin’s features soften for a millisecond before he exhales and says, “We will talk when you are ready.” And not punching walls, he thinks but refrains from saying it out loud and leaves the room while you sit on the floor and a stray tear escapes your eye.

What have you done?

◗ ៹ YANG JEONGIN ›

The pent up frustration about everything in life and Jeongin’s childishness gets the best of you and you punch the wall behind you. Your knuckles make a cracking sound at the force. You immediately get back from your trance and stare at Jeongin who is rooted at his place.

“Jeongin I-“ you try, but your voice falters when you see him take a step back, his hands folded against his body protectively. Hurt crosses over your features and you open your mouth to speak and make him comfortable.

“Just fucking listen-“

“No”

“Innie-“

“I said no,” Jeongin yells at you and a pin drop silence falls around the room.

“Don’t come near me, we will talk later,” Jeongin’s voice held remorse and fear and you exhale slowly nodding at him. You watch him leave and regret takes over your features.

ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ ara's notes ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤtysm anon for requesting this, i hope you like it, some of them have open endings and unsolved arguments 'cause i suddenly love writing that lmao. tysm for the people who are reading and the blr notes. ꔫㅤㅤ ❜ [ taglist ] ㅤ⋆ ㅤ@haneagerr @jeonghanfr ㅤmain mlistㅤ skz listㅤ navi ㅤ add to taglist

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luna-rainbow · 8 months

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The shield-bearer vs the gun-wielder

(Unmarked GIFs are credited to @lost-shoe - miss you 😭)

One frequent interpretation of the Steve-Bucky dichotomy sees Steve as the protector and defender with the shield, while Bucky is the aggressor and assailant wielding a gun or knife or even his metal arm. It's hard to shake that impression when we remember just how savage Bucky can be as the Winter Soldier, whereas Steve notably did not carry a weapon after CATFA. Promotional stills where they appear together reinforce that image, with Bucky often appearing with an offensive weapon (or holding his arm up offensively) while Steve holds his shield defensively.

But the picture of Bucky stepping in front of Karpov made me rethink. Despite Bucky's loss at the new super soldiers' hands a moment before, he is remarkably restrained in what he does as he leads Karpov out of the cage. I am not against the meta that suggested he gained some satisfaction at striking back at the new super soldiers, but he stuck to his goal of guarding Karpov instead of getting swept up in the adrenaline and joining the brawl - as other guards in the background did.

Bucky is a protector. I know there are already lots of meta about this: from the moment we meet him in the back alley, Bucky is using himself as a human shield between Steve and the bully. He puts himself at Steve's back when he's rescued from the Hydra facility and he picks up the shield to protect Steve on the train. Even that one scene of Bucky being a sniper in CATFA, he shot the enemy to protect Steve. As Bucky, his acts of aggression happens when he's protecting someone (usually Steve).

So it's interesting to re-examine the violence in CATWS. Yes, Bucky/Winter Soldier is capable of extraordinary ferocity in taking down Fury and Steve and Nat, but he's also someone who sits there placidly when Pierce's maid startles them. Proactive attack isn't his instinctual state - and that becomes clearer when we see more of Bucky in CACW. He waits until violence is upon him before he retaliates: whether in Bucharest, or in the German airport, or finally in Siberia with Tony.

And on reflection, even in this climactic CATWS scene, the visuals are consistent with Bucky’s modus operandi — he is placing himself as a human shield between his enemy (Steve) and what he needs to guard (the Helicarrier behind him). The trail of destruction he leaves behind on his way onto the Helicarrier is frank reminder of how capable of violence he is, but this moment on the bridge holds a curious stillness. He is waiting, but not as a predator waiting for his prey, but rather like a lone guard’s final stand against inevitable doom. And perhaps — his aim was never on taking the most number of lives on the airfield, it was to disperse and disable anyone who might interfere with the Helicarrier’s launch.

Bucky's focus during the first part of the fight with Steve seems to be more on the drive Steve is carrying rather than on killing Steve. Killing Steve only comes after the Helicarriers fail (which begs the question: was Bucky specifically instructed to stop Steve without killing him and then kill him afterwards, or did Bucky have enough presence of mind to hold back for as long as he could?) Even as the Winter Soldier, Bucky seems most in his element when protecting something behind him.

On the converse, we have Steve, whose symbol is the shield, and I think it misleads (maybe even intentionally on Steve's part) the audience and his enemies into thinking that Steve's strong point is defence.

But it's not. I wouldn't call Steve an aggressor (and I'm not a huge fan of the angry chihuahua fanon), but he is far more proactive in his actions and a lot more aggressive in his attacks than the shield might suggest.

Even this memorable image, which seems to suggest Steve is on the defense against Bucky's raging attack is actually the opposite -- Steve is rushing Bucky from the side, and Bucky's punch serves to stop Steve in his tracks (i.e. it’s Bucky's self-defense against Steve's attack).

Our first meeting with Steve establishes him as a challenger - he challenges the recruitment rules, he challenges the disrespectful guy in the cinema, he challenges Colonel Philips and Hydra and the Red Skull - and eventually, he goes on to challenge Loki and Tony and Fury and Pierce and SHIELD in the modern world.

We don't see Steve carrying a weapon in the modern era (except for maybe brief moments of him using a weapon in Avengers) and it's easy, for the audience but also for Steve’s enemies, to forget that Steve uses the shield as an offensive weapon. Sure, it serves its function as an actual shield, but Steve hurls it as a projectile weapon intended to incapacitate so many times I won't be able to list them all so I'll just let this picture speak for itself.

Even at their first reunion, Bucky is running away to avoid a confrontation with the witness (Steve) while Steve is chasing after him to confront the sniper.

And I think this describes their different traits to a tee - Steve is like the bloodhound with a keen nose for trouble and doesn’t rest until he’s chased it down, while Bucky is like the guard dog who patiently sits by his family until commanded to fight or provoked. That's not to say Steve is always picking fights, but rather he's got an intuitive awareness of where the source of the conflict is and has no qualms putting himself into the fray. It’s also not to say that Bucky is always avoidant or apathetic, but rather he tends to watch and wait unless it threatens those he cares about...and that is probably deserving of its own meta to discuss how their separate upbringings make Steve and Bucky different in their confrontation readiness.

"I thought you were more than just a shield," Batroc says, so Steve clips his shield back on his harness and dukes it out with his fists.

Of course Steve is more than his shield, because the shield is just a piece of disguise for who Steve Rogers really is - someone who's always assessing the world around him (rather than hiding behind the shield) and ready to challenge the injustices (rather than waiting for the fight to come to him).

The real dichotomy between Steve and Bucky is that Steve is a natural challenger, who first picks up the shield to help him undertake a single-man offence on a Hydra base. When he wakes up in the modern world and sees that the imagery of the shield is entrenched with his identity, he uses that symbol to mask his fiery defiance while turning the shield itself into a weapon that works both in offense and defence. Bucky is a natural protector, who had picked up fighting and later weapons for defence and self-defence. Hydra then turned his loyal temperament and his skill set into “the fist of Hydra” - capable of both protection and targeted destruction.

They seem to have chosen (or been assigned) a weapon that is opposite to their instincts, but it’s also why they work so well together as a unit. Steve's convictions and idealism give Bucky the impetus to take up arms, and Bucky's constancy and protection give Steve the confidence to forge ahead.

The man who attacks injustices with a shield, and at his back, the man who defends him with a gun.

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #stucky #bucky barnes meta #steve rogers meta #stucky meta #long post

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junosmindpalace · 4 months

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AGAINST ALL ODDS

☾ ft. satoru gojo

☾ sfw. a back and forth between you and satoru gojo has led to this very moment.

the scoreboard hasn’t been very well in your odds ever since you’ve met satoru gojo.

you gave into his antics the first day you met him when he made an irritating comment about you looking weak and unassuming. you took the comments personally and retaliated; rookie mistake, but a mistake nonetheless. despite your outburst about his bad mouth and self-entitlement, you could get no reaction out of him. and so, point one went to gojo.

you threw the first punch when he dared you to take a swing at him, taunting you about how much you craved to and how much of a wuss you were that you didn’t. you missed and got in trouble with yaga for attempting to start a fight. point two to gojo.

still, without your knowledge, you’ve been able to accumulate some points on this metaphorical scoreboard. one day while looking for suguru on the training grounds, satoru finds you as well, fighting against him in an intense battle. you slash through his curses, dodging and weaving through his attacks with a concentrated expression, and satoru is almost mesmerised as he watches your display of agility and power. you finally get your first point.

this sort of unspoken back and forth has gone on for some time, with you occasionally giving into satoru’s antics and accidentally subjecting yourself to the humiliation it brings, and satoru finding himself humbled by your sharp wit.

by now the score is tied, and it’s been a long battle to see who would be the tiebreaker…

today, however, the heavens remind satoru that he alone is in their favor.

“suguru, pass me a marker.”

satoru takes extra care in making sure the rest of his body doesn’t move an inch as he extends out his arm to do a beckoning motion, smirking at his own ingenious idea. suguru only gives him a deadpan look as he eyes his friend and you, leaning against him asleep, standing by the classroom's doorway, about to head out to report on a mission.

“you know, i actually like Y/N.”

“i do too! we’re just having some fun. i’ll do something to Y/N, Y/N’ll do something to me—well, try to at least.”

suguru raises his brows in doubt, flickering his gaze between the two of you before sighing and pushing himself away from the doorframe, departing with a final: “i’m not enabling you." before disappearing behind the wall.

satoru huffs in annoyance at his friend’s lack of cooperation, resolving to reach for it himself. “fine, then.”

his eyes dart back and forth as he takes the most absolute care not to let this once in a lifetime opportunity go to waste. he quickly leans over to grab a whiteboard marker and then immediately straightens when he gets ahold of it. he lets out a breathy, victorious laugh when he looks over at your still unconscious figure and yanks off the cap with his teeth, reaching over to draw some unflattering images on your skin that would surely last a day or two, and surely get him even higher on your list of truly intolerable people.

but he finds himself coming to a sudden halt when you adjust yourself on his shoulder, tilting your head slightly lower, hair falling over your eyes and brows subconsciously creasing in slight distress over being disturbed in your slumber.

and satoru feels bad.

what’s he got to feel bad about? you’d probably punch him and call him a pervert when you wake up and take notice of your somewhat intimate positioning. he goes back in with his marker.

again, you halt his actions, this time by letting out a small disgruntled noise, burying your face deeper into the crook of his neck.

it almost feels like you were challenging him, and he feels like he's losing. the right side of your face was still open for him to scribble whatever sort of crude word or drawing he wanted, but for some reason the left side smushed against his arm was willing him still.

he couldn't help but think, as you relaxed again, that you look so peaceful. he’s never seen you so so delicate looking, and it stirs a mixture of emotions in his stomach that burn in his face. he can only stare in wonder, a slight bit anxiously, as he brings a cautious finger to move the hair out of your eyes. his fingertips brush against your temple for only a moment, but the ghost of a smile lingers on the corners of your lips at the gentle touch anyway.

satoru gojo alone is the honoured one, but then again…the gods are fickle.

just as he had before, he ever so carefully closes the marker and sets it on the desk beside him, and lets out a long, shaky exhale as he clasps his hands firmly in his lap. his eyes shine as they glance over and linger at your face, yet quickly he redirects his gaze and pursues his lips.

it’s only ten minutes later when you stir awake, and satoru, who only seconds previously was lost in his own head, straightens in alarm. you groan a little as you come to and lift your face to ground yourself back into reality. when your gaze eventually meets satoru’s, wide eyed and somewhat unintelligible, you quickly jump away from him.

“what the hell were you doing on me?!”

“you were on me.” satoru smirks, and immediately melts back into his typical casual and insolent demeanour, and your face only burns in embarrassment when you realize you can’t refute.

“well why didn’t you push me away?”

“oh, you just looked so tired and, you know—“ satoru pretends to yawn, stretching his arms over his head. “i felt bad disturbing your peace. did you know you drool in your sleep?”

“oh you are so—“

“ah, so you did wake y/n.”

both your heads shoot up toward the door where suguru stood with an arm casually propped up against the doorframe. your mouth opens and closes for several seconds before you manage to ask, horrified, “how long was i out?”

“i don’t know. you were asleep when i left, and it’s been about…fifteen minutes? since then?”

you quickly turned back to look at satoru accusingly, but he only raises his brows up and down in a suggestive manner. you turn away from him in your embarrassment, and scold the black-haired sorcerer instead.

"and you just left me alone with this guy? you could've woke me up!"

you drop the subject fairly quickly, and satoru can't help but feel grateful, because he’s having a hard time keeping the racing of his own heart under control. he gazes downward at the floor, slightly bashful and uncomfortable with himself when he, unwillingly, reminisces on the tingling sensation he felt as you laid against him.

the tie breaking point finally goes to you.

#an old draft i'm posting since i'm going back to school #and have no clue when i'll next have the motivation 2 write...#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen oneshot #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #jjk fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo oneshot #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru oneshot

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sseastar · 4 months

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✶ small things ; wang yixiang.

info. nicholas x reader. fluff. can be established relationship or friends to lovers. description. nico and his habits towards you in your friendship / relationship. just nico being a cutie and a menace. a cute menace. warnings. play fighting. physical touch. listen to. love 119 by riize

accidentally tickling you + the need to keep doing it.

you know that clip of nico just touching the exposed skin through fuma’s ripped jeans? and fuma getting ticklish because of it and stopping nicholas’s hands, but nico’s hand keeps gravitating back to it? i feel like nico would do this with you. initially, it’s usually just him gently grazing the skin on your arm or neck or knees with his nails or fingertips. the moment you squirm away, something in nico’s brain tells him that he needs to keep touching that same spot unless you really tell him to stop (you usually don’t). he also squeezes your leg or thigh just to make you jump. and then commences the game of you trying to catch nico’s hands before they can touch you again but still playing along because of course you will. you always have.

playful attacks when you’re teasing him.

there’s a video of nico just like, fake tickle attacking gaku during one of the &audition episodes that i just saw recently and my first thought was just nicholas going for your waist whenever you tease him for something. you tease him a lot whenever you get the chance because he, of course, does the exact same to you. so it’s no surprise to you anymore when you just kind of quickly scoot away after teasing him because you know what’s coming, and sure enough, nico’s hands just shoot quickly towards your waist after you like, talk about an embarrassing moment he had.

it used to just be something he had to decide to do (he knew whatever you were saying was a joke so that was his choice to retaliate) but at some point it just became second nature for him to start wiggling his fingers towards your sides. is it because he’s just gotten used to it? or is it because his hands know his need to hear your laugh? you may never know. nico also finds joy when he just brings his hands relatively near you and your giggles just fall out of your laugh without him even touching you.

feeding you.

with nico looking as if he would be a tsundere, the way he holds out food to the members without looking is so characteristic of that. there’s a couple of clips of him feeding harua by just holding out ice cream or tanghulu to his mouth without even looking. something about that melts my heart because it’s like he wants people not to make a big deal but he’s just too caring for me to ignore.

nico does the same thing to you. just holding his drink up to your lips if he knows you like his drink better than your own. holding up food combinations he wants you to try (like when he fed harua the seaweed) and patiently waiting for your opinion. if you can’t decide which dish you want to order, he would order both and let you pick which one you would like better. and of course, cooking you sausage wherever and whenever you want.

poking your cheek + tapping your chin.

i’ve seen nico do this a lot to euijoo and taki (especially in the scent of you behind). it seems to be his way of teasing but with affection, because he had done it after reviewing their scenes in the mv. i think it’s his way of saying you did well, i’m proud of you, and i think you’re absolutely adorable, but i’m gonna do this little cat scratch thing because i’m too shy to actually tell you (so lino-coded i love this).

nico will just randomly tap underneath your chin or poke your cheek, usually when it comes to times when you’re being complimented or getting flustered. he thinks you’re adorable with the way you suddenly can’t make eye contact and can only let out a stuttering ‘thank you’ and so he just has the sudden urge to make it worse by doing the whole underside of the chin gentle tap with his fingertip or knuckle.

making random sounds to get your attention.

i’m sure we mostly all know about nico’s “ooh sexy joo” clip, and if you don’t, you’ll probably find out soon. but something tells me that the way he hypes up euijoo and the sounds he makes along with it translates to you as well. a lot of times, when he’s bored and you’re not paying attention to him he just starts making those ‘oooooo’ sounds that he was making during their photoshoot behind. it’s kind of difficult to ignore the fake ghost sounds your best friend is making but it’s come to the point that if he isn’t making these sounds when he wants your attention, then something’s wrong and he’s probably jealous of someone grabbing your attention instead of him.

it’s not rare for you to be trying to finish an assignment at your desk with nico just sprawled out on your bed, limbs hanging off the sides of your mattress. when he senses you’re almost done, nico starts to make these sounds or just starts to hum your favorite song unconsciously, reaching over to you to play with your free arm or your hair, hoping that it’ll help speed up your progress on your work. spoiler alert: it doesn’t, but you don’t have the heart to tell him otherwise.

his tired clinginess in the morning.

just blank nico in the morning. tired baby will just go up to wherever you are, cooking, getting ready, brushing your teeth, whatever. he would just go up to you and cling close as he��s waking up, not with arms around you or anything but just standing with his chest pressed to the back of one of your shoulders as he watches what you’re doing, eyes unfocused and head slightly dipped towards you - he might not be a morning person but being around you makes it better.

sometimes you get surprised despite getting used to this habit because one moment, you’re in the kitchen pouring milk into your cereal. when your turn back from the fridge after putting the carton away, nico’s just standing silently behind you, not reacting to the little laugh you let out at your surprise like he usually would (he loves your laugh). instead, you simply take a spoon and drop it into your bowl as nicholas just brings his body close to yours and lightly presses his chest against your back. he watches you eat over your shoulder, simply opening his mouth when you bring up the spoon to it, and nuzzles his head into your neck as he chews, basking in the little pats you give to the side of his head and face.

hiding his face from or behind you.

as intimidating as our lovely boy can look, nico is just a shy baby when it comes to being teased or excessively complimented. you love how he gets when this happens and so sometimes you purposely praise him over and over again just to get him flustered. at these times, nicholas just hides his face from you so that you can only see his eyes (like in the ‘our diary - acrobatic’ video when k said it was his turn to do the last challenge and he hid his face behind the mats). the giggle that leaves your mouth only causes his heart to stir even more, and he tries his best not to giggle back as much as he feels like he needs to. he has a dark image to protect lol.

if someone else makes him shy and you’re near him, he goes immediately to take your arm and hide his face behind it with the cute high pitched nico laugh we love. more often, nico just steps behind you and plants half his face on your shoulder, again only leaving his eyes to be shown. euijoo had once said that nicholas one of the most important people in his life so casually, and the next moment, nicholas had already left your side and had his face hidden behind your shoulder. so cute.

⌕. author’s note ; did i disappear again? yes i did and i’m so sorry! i did have a lot of motivation to write over break but never had the time because of family plans, but! i am still working on current wips and starting to work on &team works! thank you for waiting!!

as always, please leave feedback and reblog with tags as it’s the most important thing when it comes to motivating writers on here! without feedback, i have less motivation to keep writing so pls pls pls do not just like and empty reblog! it gets very draining and unmotivating to see when that happens!

⌕. taglist ; @enhacolor @soobin-chois @koishua @chrysbibi

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spdrvyn · 25 days

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Perhaps a request for Miggy x scientist reader? Reader is a a former Alchemex scientist who used to work with Miguel. They have been working in spider HQ ever since the beginning of spider society. Both of them have been too busy to realize the bottled up feelings and emotions that is about to burst….

breaking beakers

miguel and a reader that's been by his side since day 1. since the treachery of alchemax, you've been loyal to miguel and his cause for protection of the multiverse. read bit by bit how your relationship with miguel develops, even if it's only something as simple as helping him administer rapture.

angst. drug usage (rapture). panic attack. absolutely love this request! i've never written a story where the reader was already a part of miguel's past so this is new and exciting for me. thank you, anon! i put my own twist, i hope you still enjoy reading ♡

dividers by @cafekitsune

breaking breakers

When you got paired up with your workplace's assigned asshole, you were more than concerned for your career than ever.

Miguel wasn't easy from the start. Arguments were one after the other, followed by complete silence in the lab due to the inability of either of you to take accountability. You had never really heard him talk or engage in conversation properly unless it was to scold or correct you for making, according to him, a quintillion mistakes.

It stretched you thin, you were close to asking the higher-ups to give you another partner, but you knew that they would ignore your protests so you put up with it. Besides, talking smack with your friends outside of work helped. Though, you knew that they were getting a little tired from it as well.

After a particularly harsh argument with him, you couldn't retaliate with anything witty to say. You sulked in your own corner of the laboratory for a while, until Miguel silently placed a small, steaming hot cup of coffee on your desk.

That moment had triggered the beginning of your actual relationship. Sometimes, the room would still be strung tight with tension, but it was better than awkwardly hanging around each other and waiting for yet another fight to start. It slowly turned into Miguel giving you rides home, Miguel buying more than just coffee for you, and Miguel staying at your place after he dropped you off.

Then he quit.

Or did he get fired? Liberated, in corporate terms. You didn't know the full story, you got a new lab partner one day, Miguel was gone, there was no coffee on your desk anymore. There was no comfortable silence.

It was difficult to get a hold on him with the moments that followed, you knew well that he had a tendency to brood, but never for this long. He didn't leave you on read, your messages weren't even going through. You searched his name up on social media and found nothing, a thousand other Miguels but not your Miguel. You reached out to his brother after a lot of thinking, but he couldn't come up with an answer either because his family didn't know where he went either.

Perhaps it shouldn't have upset you as much as it should have, Alchemax viewed their employees as expendable toys. You didn't mean to get attached to him, but you had breached that line very long ago ever since the first shouting match. He was your friend now, no corporation was going to get between at least trying to talk again.

When you had gotten a message from an unknown number, there were only two possible answers. A telemarketer or Miguel. Likely possibilities, a fifty percent chance for either. You thanked God that it was the latter.

The power that was held in that conversation had changed the trajectory of your life forever. Miguel helped arrange a time for you to meet, the second you caught sight of him, it erupted a feeling in you that you just couldn't bring yourself to describe.

He still looked like him, but otherwise different. His face looked more sunken in, eyebags, lines you hadn't seen on his face before. He was definitely taller, his physique was more built as well. What caught your attention the most though was his eyes, crimson red and deliberately drained of light.

Miguel, what happened to you?

It was a long, overly extensive talk. You shouldn't have broken down over it, the events that lead up to his timely demise at his job. It wasn't your place to cry over his misfortunes, but he looked like he didn't have it left in him to cry so you took that place for him. Alchemax was your breeding ground for innovation and evolution of human society, a little shady around the edges, but you knew that you'd still be helping people in the end. After this, your hopes in that place had been quashed. Clearly if they were heartless enough to treat one of their top geneticists like this, they wouldn't be any better towards the safety and care of the populus.

So you quit your job immediately. Miguel invited you to Spider Society and you gladly agreed, you were in no position to really decline. Besides, it was a good way to get you back on your feet again. You had become acquainted with the people that passed by in what used to be headquarters back then, Miguel trusted them with his life it seemed (despite him not being able to admit that himself though).

You'd find yourself in HQ more than in your own apartment at that point, you enjoyed being there. You had closer friends, Spider-People were better company than mad scientists anyway. You helped Miguel make this new, exciting thing from foundation to the top. It helped you become more social, it made you more comfortable opening up to people again.

You just didn't know that it was doing quite the opposite with Miguel.

You had blamed yourself for not noticing sooner, for not picking up the details that he wasn't doing as fine as he thought he was. When you found the doors to his office locked, you already felt your heart begin to race. You called out to Lyla and she was more than willing to answer back, "He's going through something, he hasn't really been taking his Rapture doses recently and-"

"Let me handle it," you said, firmly. "I can help him. I can fix it."

Lyla looked at you, just looked. She didn't feel, she wasn't supposed to feel exactly. She could act like it, her programming allowed her that at least. She made perfectly calculated decisions and perfectly calculated reactions to them, when she noticed a problem, she was supposed to fix it.

You weren't as accustomed to Lyla as other people, but you were aware of that as well. In spite of that, she still managed to be the light in conversations most of the time. Literally, when it was the dead of night, just you and Miguel strewing and caking together more reports, she'd find ways to make it more entertaining.

That means if Lyla looked at you like she did, with so much uncertainty and inner conflict. It was like her code turned to beat like a human heart, you could hear it in the swift moment of silent she'd left you in. The hiss and whir to Miguel's office doors reeled you back in, Lyla sighed. She shouldn't sigh, she never sighed.

"Do the right thing," she wished you off. God, I hope so, you thought to yourself.

It was dark, obviously. You were used to it, ever since Miguel told you about how sensitive his senses can get, you didn't really mind at all. There was still light that peeked from the corners, a small monitor here and there, maybe a secret window you just didn't know about. It was cozy sometimes even to evade the blinding sunlight and stay in the darkness with Miguel. But that's not at all what it felt like when you entered. It did not embrace you, it suffocated you.

There was no accompanied noise either, no beeping from a monitor, no whirring of a machine, and no idle chatter with him and Lyla like there would always be. It was the purest form of silence, the sound of your breathing and the small pats of your shoes against the cold, metal ground was all you could hear.

Miguel's platform was placed high up, there was absolutely no way that you could get to him without using a web shooter. Unless you could somehow convince him to lower his platform, which you really didn't want to do in the case you might accidentally say something stupid.

"Miguel?" You yelled, stupidly. Though, it would be more stupid to try and propel yourself up to the height of his platform. One option results in humiliation until the end of your life while the other option could result in the end of your life. You weren't really looking forward to experiencing the latter.

You thought you heard him mumble something, but before you could call out his name again, he answered back. "Get out."

The absence of cruelty in his tone was prominent to you already. He didn't have the heart to speak so coldly to you in the first place. No, he sounded scared, fearful, whether it was of you or himself, you were yet to find out the reason why. The priority right now was to talk to him, properly.

"Are you sure about that? I have a, uh, really important work file that I need you to review! The multiverse is at stake here, Miguel. Come on!"

Silence. For a few seconds. Before you heard the unmistakable click and whir of his platform, it makes its slow descent down towards you. Miguel begun to enter your vision, he had a chair pulled up and he was hunched over on his desk. Rare, you knew he liked to work when standing (oddly enough).

"You're a bad liar," he grumbled, not even facing you as he said it. You sighed as you stepped onto the platform, placing your hands on your hips.

"I wasn't lying, but your doors were locked and Lyla told me that there was something going on here." Miguel mumbled something else under his breath that you couldn't catch, he simply goes back to what to whatever he's doing. Which you really couldn't allow, but you couldn't push yourself into this. With him, there was always some sort of process.

You took the moment to observe your surroundings, it was unbearably messy in here. A feat that he'd somehow been able to achieve despite being way past the age of papers, there was clutter everywhere. From beakers, liquids of mysterious origin pooled around from here to there, and even... Blood?!

Your attention had snapped back to Miguel and that's when you had started to notice, how his shoulders rose and fell faster than usual, his hands ruffled in his hair, the rapid successions of his breath.

"Miguel," Shock the process. Shock waiting. He clearly wasn't okay, you knew that to the fullest now. In three short strides, you were already by his side. "What's going on?"

He shook his head. Okay, you didn't want to press him too hard into talking, but this wasn't something that you could leave alone. Hesitantly, you placed a hand on one of his shoulders. He flinched, so did you, but right now, you needed to be the strongest person in the room so you kept your hand there.

You tilted your head to the side, just so you could see his face, but he avoided your gaze. What entered your sights however was a discarded needle gun, yet to be picked up, and a few claw marks on the table.

So this was the Rapture that Lyla was talking about. You hadn't a single clue what it was when she mentioned it, you pretended because you thought that she'd lock you out if you hadn't. Even then, there isn't much you could deduce aside from the fact that it was a drug Miguel had to take. You heard very little about the Rapture studies back in Alchemax, it was very classified, and you wish you would have pried more.

"Do you need help with that?" You asked, trying to keep your voice as level as possible. Your thumb drew small circles into the muscle of his shoulder, his hands fell from his hair to his sides. He slumped back against his chair with a big sigh, and he nodded.

Shakily, you picked up the gun. There was no seat for you to take, so you decided on sitting on the table. When you leaned down, the nanofabric of Miguel's suit had dissipated, revealing the fullness of his arm to you. You attempted to steady your hands over the exposed skin, Miguel doesn't even wince as the little needles pierce through.

It will probably take a little while for the vial to empty out. You stewed in the silence with Miguel for a while, you'd usually use this as an opportunity to make conversation, but judging from his current state, he probably isn't one for talking.

You released the breath that you were holding in when it was finished, you set the device for the side. Your hand remained on Miguel's shoulder the whole time and it tightened as you asked, "Is there–"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I'm just-" Miguel took a deep breath. "I'm- not ready to talk about it right now. It's a lot, sorry for bothering you."

He still wouldn't look you in the eye, you looked down to his hands and saw him tugging and pinching at the fabric of his suit. He'd calmed down a little now at least, but still. You couldn't help but feel like you've failed somehow, you tried to put on what's supposed to resemble a smile to him. "Okay, that's fine."

When he dismissed you and let you (told you) to leave him alone, you promised yourself that you'd wait. You'd wait for him to be ready.

But maybe he never will.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 x y/n #hurt/comfort #tw drug use #tw panic attack

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vampyrsm · 7 months

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‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER NINE | KANGITEN

‣‣ Synopsis: Our tale continues with unbridled rage that comes to life as a sea of spider lilies, only to be washed away by an ocean of blood. Tensions are high, and emotions are raw - just what will transpire between two people who were fated from the start to rip each other apart?

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 14k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, cursed energy usage, extensive fight scene, descriptions of wounds/attacks, threats of violence/death, female reader, smut (biting, very minor blood play, marking, orgasm denail, oral f!receiving, sukuna has two cocks, DP, assplay, anal, fingering f!receiving, spit as lube, no protection, double creampie).

Grief was such an undignified name for what you were feeling at this very moment. It was much too hot to be described as the ice-cold grief that often consumed people whole until they were nothing but a husk of their former selves.

Instead, it burns hot in your throat, tingles at the tips of your fingers that tighten around the hilt of the sword until you can feel the fabric of tightly woven cloth start to twist beneath the pressure. The ringing in your ears grows until it’s deafening, drowning out the rational thoughts in your mind that what you’re about to do is surely to end in the cold hands of Death.

There’s a sudden flood of cursed energy, and it’s not yours. Sukuna pushes it out first and it slices into the length of your back, it doesn’t do any damage — it was a warning. Do anything and you’ll die.

You had never been one to listen to the whims of a man.

Your own energy flushes out of you much too quickly, a flash of pain that frazzles your mind but you push through. Your fingers slip down the hilt of the blade until your thumb and index finger press to the handguard and unsheathe the blade in a subtle click. The energy that hisses out of the sheathe only fuels your own.

One of Sukuna’s arms is drawn back as if he were about to unleash an attack in retaliation to your own, but he’s completely frozen in a state of suspended animation. You see the twitch of his eye, his muscles working overtime to try and overpower your technique so he didn’t get hit.

But he couldn’t have anticipated the burst of energy that came with unsheathing your father’s blade mixing with your own. You were across the room in under a second, the silver of your father’s blade is just a blur in comparison to everything else. It slices through Sukuna’s midsection with no resistance, the blood that sprays from his wound is slow to appear.

The edge of the blade is coated in a thin line of red, blood that hasn’t even begun to drip down onto the floor. You find yourself standing behind Sukuna to his right-hand side, your head lowered just in time for your cursed technique to release.

The spray of blood is violent, coating half of you as well as saturating the once pristine tatami mats beneath your feet. Sukuna sucks in a harsh breath that mixes into a feral growl, you don’t doubt his teeth are bared and his claws poised to rip out your throat.

But he didn’t expect the world to suddenly shift around him in a deafening boom, wood shattering around him before that wood turns into stone and he finds himself thrown unceremoniously through his courtyard and the wall that cages it in.

You step through the carnage you’ve caused, the wall that separated Sukuna’s room from the outside wall is entirely annihilated. Remnants of the shoji door are scattered by your feet along with pieces of rock and gravel that had been upended in your two-pronged attack.

In truth, you hadn’t expected it to work like that but when you unsheathed the blade it was like another set of hands had laid themselves upon your own. Even now you can still feel them pressing down on the top of your shaking hand that holds the hilt so tightly.

Sukuna recovers quickly from the attack, his four arms aid in throwing his body forward from the man-made hole he had found himself in and he moves just as he did the first time you saw him. Fast. Ruthless. This was nothing like the time when you had trained with him, you were facing an entirely different beast once again. This was a beast who had a single goal on its mind; to kill.

Your foot shifts backwards along the ruined wooden porch, your upper body twisting just so with a hand on the handle of the blade as you prepare to embrace the oncoming attack. Your lungs expand with the deep breath you take, the cursed energy that surges at the tip of your blade bolsters itself.

There’s a vicious snarling yell that rips from Sukuna’s throat as he nears your static position. Just as the edge of his cursed energy presses into your own, you push off of your toes and the speed at which you move is imperceivable. You move before Sukuna can even realise that you’ve vanished from the spot you are in, not until you’re face to face with him.

You wonder what he must see when you meet his eyes, does he see the face of all those innocent people he had slaughtered? Or perhaps he sees the face of the man he dared to steal this weapon from? But whatever he sees unnerves him, all four of his eyes are wide at the sudden proximity and his body moves out of reflex.

The blade slices through the air where his head once was, your feet skidding through the divots where Sukuna’s body had previously been thrown through. This time, however, Sukuna is ready for the second part of the attack and brings all of his arms up in an X-position to cover his face and the core of his body.

The violent gust of wind that followed your speed was enough to shift him a few steps backwards, small shattered stones finding home in his flesh from the force they hit him with.

“Lucky,” you mutter to yourself once the wind blows by, you turn to look at Sukuna who is glaring at you over his shoulder. “You should’ve lost your head.”

Sukuna’s upper lip lifts in his trademark snarl, displaying those sharpened fangs that no doubt yearn to be buried into your liver. Even from here, you can see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Your gaze shifts away from his eyes when he turns to face you eventually, and you latch onto the deep laceration on his cheekbone. You had nicked him.

“Next time, I won’t miss.”

“Bold of you to assume you’ll live to see a next time.” Sukuna lowers his stance slightly, all four arms exposing his chest. His kimono had been severed into nothing but strings of fabric that laid around his waist where the obi-belt held everything together.

You don’t give him the chance to recuperate his energy, you move towards him. The air shifts with the sudden pulse of cursed energy that pools in your legs, and your hand slides to the handguard to release the blade from its sheath once again. However, there’s a change in Sukuna’s energy.

He draws his arms up to protect his body once again, his speed starting to match your own despite the use of your technique. His eyes too track you more clearly.

“Now that I know what your little trick is, it won’t work on me so easily.” His words from just the previous day sting more than any weapon could, it slices through your impenetrable need to destroy the man before you. He was adjusting to your technique.

Your blood sings with the realisation. You never doubted Sukuna’s battle prowess, if anything you were astonished that you had managed to lay your sword against his skin a handful of times but something about this felt so different. The way his eyes tracked you was akin to that of a wolf who had spotted a rabbit in the clearing. You were now his prey.

His arms don’t budge when you enter his space, nor do they move when you continue to slash your blade against his skin. You expect the spray of blood but instead, you watch as he heals the wounds the second they appear – he was defensively holding onto his cursed energy. You had to do enough damage to stop whatever he was planning on doing.

Sukuna’s eyes still manage to track you effortlessly even when you utilise your technique as you had once seen your father do. At the time, you figured it was just your childish imagination making up the fact you saw three of him but now you understand. You understood just how he did it. But even with the mirage of your body splitting into two different versions of yourself with how quickly you move, he watches.

A slice of a blade against his neck, against his bicep, the back of his legs — nothing. It does nothing.

It feels like dread that starts to build in your stomach, you failed. His eyes sharpen at the dip in your energy, and he doesn’t miss the chance to act on it. A hand shoots out when you’re midway through your next dash, your cursed energy sputters the second his hand lays itself around your throat.

He slams you ruthlessly into the ground, it cracks beneath the pressure before it splinters further when he pins you beneath the weight of his immense cursed energy. You can feel the bones along your back and shoulders scream in agony whilst they’re being crushed between two immovable forces.

Your fingers ache when they tighten around the blade still in your hand, and Sukuna doesn’t miss the movement with one of his lower eyes. He manages to throw his body back in time, the tip of the blade scraping painfully along his second face.

But even still with the space you created, your body hurts far too much to move even a muscle. Your legs feel numb from the tops of your thighs, no doubt Sukuna had crushed part of your spine with the force he threw you down.

“That’s all you got?” He sneers from his spot across from you, glaring at you in the small crater he had created with his cursed energy. “Weak.”

His words brand themselves into your skin, show you for the failure that you are. It feels childish to have tears pricking in the corner of your eyes, stinging against your bruised and bloodied cheeks. How dare he call you weak whilst staring at the grief on your face.

“Fuck..” You breathe the word through gritted teeth and you don’t miss the way Sukuna’s face cracks into a violent grin. His fingers stretch at his sides, veins bulging in his arms as he watches you valiantly try to push yourself up from the floor. “You.”

“Such a filthy mouth for a simple sword-bearing whore.” He goads effortlessly, and it makes your jaw clench until your teeth ache.

You suck in a harsh breath, focusing on trying to figure out a way to get out of the predicament you were in. Your energy burns so hot in your chest, stinging at your wounds and yet the negativity resting on your soul does nothing to ease your pain. Your brain scrambles to scour through the information you consumed just hours prior.

What did that madman spout about reversal in those books? Something about your energy, that energy is made up of negative emotions. So surely if you reversed those feelings, turned that negativity sitting in your stomach to a positive emotion… Your eyes closed briefly, sucking in a shaky breath before you sank into the memory that brought you genuine happiness.

You remember the warmth of the sun on your face, the water that rushed by your feet along with the koi fish that your father had recently purchased. Your father was sitting next to you, his own head tilted skyward as he watched the flitting orange leaves float through the sky on the summer breeze that rolled through. You remember the warmth of his words when he told you how proud he was to know you were excelling in your classes.

That day whilst seemingly insignificant to some was the first time your father had acknowledged you as more than just his daughter — he saw you as someone who could go far in a world designed to fit only men. You were his pride.

Your eyes reopen to the darkened sky above you, and there’s a warmth that coats the entirety of your upper body.

“Oh… someone’s been doing their research.” Sukuna comments from the sidelines, but you can’t focus on him when you feel that same warmth stroke its way down each notch of your spine until it all clicks back into place. Everything made so much sense now, reversing cursed energy would bring out positive results… of course it would.

Now you know how Sukuna felt atop the world. Untouchable. Your own smile grows on your face, eyes shifting to stare directly at Sukuna who tilts his chin up at you, appraising you. The ground vanishes from beneath your back, and the blade in your hand twists effortlessly until it’s ready to strike once again.

Sukuna’s eyes widen at your sudden approach, his body weaving out of the way of your blade once again. Your feet slide along the loose gravel floor until you dig your heel in to spin back around to face him. The blade in your hand drips with blood, mixing with the dirt. You watch as he raises two of his arms up to press them together but… his hands never touch.

Instead, they lay dormant on the floor at his feet.

“With death comes the gratitude for life. I understand now.” You breathe the words, a cloud of warmth billowing from your mouth.

The growl that rips through his throat shakes the foundation of the building behind you, small rocks bouncing on the floor from the pure ferocity that builds in his chest. His body moves down suddenly, and one of his remaining two hands presses into the ground.

It splits beneath his fingers in a spiderweb pattern, the cursed energy that bursts through is violent–and fast. It explodes upwards once it reaches your feet and you’re forced to reinforce your body with your own cursed energy to take the hit. It doesn’t stop you from being thrown backwards however, your back colliding with the ruined wooden porch that lined the outside of the temple.

Sukuna’s laugh booms in the area when he finally stands back up, your eyes blurry from the force of impact. You watch as he flicks his arms out at his sides and in that same easy movement, his hands reappear.

“We’re just getting started, little one. Stand up.” His shoulders roll, the crack of the bones in his neck is loud in the silent aftermath of his attack. “GET UP!”

And so you do. You get up from the rubble, uncaring for the cold that now bites at the exposed skin of your ripped and torn kimono. The cold is nothing in comparison to the rage that still burns so brightly in the core of your soul.

“Good! Good… now we can have some fun.” Sukuna’s tongue drags along the points of his fangs, eyes wide and manic as they scan over your body as he anticipates your next move.

Everything you had thrown at him so far had bounced off of his skin effortlessly, he had clearly adapted to your technique by now and knew what to expect from you. You needed to do something that would catch him off-guard, but what? There was nothing left, you could throw your sword at him endlessly and he would only bat it away to then crush you the second you got too close.

Sukuna’s rumbling growl has your eyes snapping up just in time to see one of his arms raise, but instead of having his hand curled into a fist he has his hand flat, palm facing skyward – as if he just threw something at you. You feel it before you even see it, it’s almost invisible but you can see something slice through the air towards you.

Uneasiness coils in your stomach, your wrist twists the blade in your hand until it’s in front of you. The sharpened edge of the blade points in his direction, in the direction of the attack and you brace yourself for the impact. The cursed energy in the blade blossoms with your own, reinforcing your stance until it feels like not even the strongest earthquakes could shift your position.

“Ha!” Sukuna exclaims when the attack collides with your sword. You feel Sukuna’s cursed energy bend around the barrier you had formed around yourself before it splits into two separate attacks. The building behind you explodes into shrapnel, wooden chips flinging out in every direction.

Your chest heaves with the effort of holding your own against that attack, your energy bleeds back into your body and you can feel the drain that so many wrote about in those books. You overexerted yourself, your cursed energy was dwindling quickly. Sukuna seemed to notice it too, because he lowered his stance as if he were about to sprint at you.

However, he doesn’t move a muscle when he watches your sword fall to the floor with a clatter. He doesn’t dare to breathe when he watches enraptured when you do the one thing that simply feels right at this very moment. Your cursed energy would no doubt be completely depleted after this but if the stories were true… You would win.

You don’t think, and instead only let your instinct guide you; let the lingering cursed energy of your father mould your hands together—

Your hands join as one, palms facing the other whilst your fingers interlock with one another except for your little fingers and thumbs. Instead, you press both your little fingers together as well as your thumbs.

“Domain Expansion: Warrior’s Valour.”

The ground beneath your feet shifts, endless upon endless amounts of red spider lilies pop up from the once destroyed ground. A sea of red ebbs at your feet, and Sukuna stands at the opposite end of the flowing river of crimson flowers, his eyes lock with your own once you lift your head to look at him.

You hadn’t expected it to work so cleanly, you can feel the rigidity of the barrier that encases the both of you within a world of your own creation. There’s a power that surges through you now that you’re caged into your domain with him, you understand now why this was considered the pinnacle of a sorcerer’s technique — it was designed to ensure you won.

Your hands drop from the gesture you had performed, and you find no weapon to grab onto.

“You killed my father,” you breathe, letting the very words that angered you loose from your chest. Sukuna all but exudes smug pride at the fact he had gotten such a response from you.

It only serves to anger you. There’s an audible slash that cuts through the air.

Sukuna falls forward, knees crumbling beneath him. The blood that sprays from the back of his legs paints the already-red flowers in a deeper shade. You understand now how it works, the domain was just an extension of your technique.

“Consider me impressed,” Sukuna comments with what sounds like genuine passion attached to his voice. His head is lifted enough to still look you in the eye, two of his arms are holding up his body from crumbling completely to the floor. “However. You’re sloppy.”

Another pang in your chest and another slice appears on Sukuna’s body. This time on one of the arms that’s holding him up, he falls forward until his elbows are holding him up. He laughs, a little breathless, almost giddy if anything, and you watch when he rears his body back suddenly despite the force of your cursed energy slowing his body down to hold it in place.

The two arms that weren’t holding up his body or injured come together, his pinky fingers fold against one another, thumbs touching to his index fingers and the rest of his fingers join together to form a point. His hands raise just before his face, eyes closing momentarily and then—

“Domain Expansion: Malevolent Shrine.”

You feel your own cursed energy crack and burst from the pressure of his own. The air rushes out of the domain you had formed, the flowers drown in a sea of blood that laps at the soles of your feet.

Every single time you had faced death before pales in comparison to what is before you, Sukuna seems further away and his hands remain held together. The shrine behind him is magnificent, grand and so like the one you had been tasked to clean at the previous temple.

You can’t sense the barrier that you had previously formed, in fact, you can’t sense anything at all. His own domain is so different to your own, no doubt he had forged a powerful pact with himself to ensure his technique prevailed above all others.

He really was the King of Curses.

“What’s with that look on your face?” He comments from across the lake of blood. “Have you come to realise you are no match for me?”

The area around you is painted in a deep cardinal shade, the mountains that shrouded the ancestral temple belonging to Sukuna look even more foreboding in the red tint. The power that bleeds from Sukuna is awfully suffocating, more than it had ever been before, it holds you in place and demands your full attention.

Sukuna clicks his tongue, eyes narrowing when he sees you making no move to advance upon him. His energy surges up suddenly, and it feels like hands come up from beneath the murky water at your feet and shackle you down to ensure you can’t evade what is to come. The air becomes dense, malleable, and when you breathe in, all you can smell is the stench of blood that follows Sukuna around like an old friend.

Your body braces for the impact, the muscles that could still move tense up and ready themselves for the killing blow. This was it. You had failed to avenge your father, had failed to fulfil your goal of honouring his name — you had failed as a Samurai. So you don’t move, you stare at the cold face of death across the sea of red and you wait.

…But the blow never comes.

Instead, the water melts into the ground, the shrine vanishes as if it never existed and the red tint over the sky is washed away with a gentle breeze. Sukuna stands across from you still, but on his face is a frown that only shows his displeasure for how the whole thing turned out.

Why didn’t he kill you? He had you right where he wanted.

His gaze shifts away from you finally, glaring off towards the horizon. Although there is a distance between you, you can feel the confusion that shrouds him. You doubt that he has ever faltered at the chance to kill someone.

So you use his confusion to your advantage. You swipe the discarded katana from the floor, your fingers tighten around the hilt and with the remaining cursed energy you surge forward. The energy explodes around the blade, lashing out at the air and it’s enough to cause Sukuna to snap his attention back to you.

He draws up an arm, the flash of his cursed energy is blindingly bright and yet it draws you in closer and closer until your blade collides with it. There’s a moment of tension before it snaps like a string pulled too tight, your arm is flung backwards painfully until the blade is launched into the darkness of the night.

Sukuna doesn’t miss a beat. The arm he used to defend himself with comes out to grab at your throat, those long clawed fingers dig into the flesh of your neck before he lifts you from the ground effortlessly. Looking down at him you can see that even with the sudden flare of energy, you still managed to break through.

There’s a deep laceration across the unmarred side of his face, the side where his real face resides. It reaches from his jaw and up to his eyebrow, forcing both of his eyes to close lest he wishes to flood his eyes with the blood that pours from the wound.

The breath that billows from his nose reminds you of the ancient stories of dragons, he looks beyond furious. He sucks in a harsh breath only to blow it out, the strain on his body is otherwise unnoticeable. His hand remains around your throat as he holds you up above the ground, unmoving – as if he didn’t know what to do with you.

Your fingers brush along the bare skin of his arm, brushing along the thick band of tattoo there and his uninjured eyes flick down to watch closely. Then he switches his attention quickly to the single band tattoo that’s branded into your skin. It feels like there’s electricity beneath your fingers when your hands wrap around his forearm to try and leverage yourself free from the choking hold.

Another harsh exhale of breath through his nose before the breath is ripped from your lungs, held hostage by a mouth that feels so foreign pressed to your own. He consumes your panicked gasp so greedily, as if your breath holds the elixir to eternal life itself. Sukuna kisses like he fights; with a sense of dominating regality that you can’t help but concede to.

The way his fingers curl around your throat, sharpened claws designed to rip apart muscle and sinew as if they were nothing. His breath is like fire when he exhales roughly through his nose, and then uses your own breath to refill his lungs. He’s so awfully greedy with how he consumes you whole, a type of hunger that can only be described in one way — carnally.

Two of his unoccupied hands come to grasp your waist, the warmth of his skin against yours through the rips of your kimono only adds to the fire that burns beneath your skin. He grows bolder with each passing second, his lips continuing to move with yours until it becomes nothing but a messy clash of teeth and saliva.

His growl rumbles beneath the hands you press to his chest, feeling the sticky wetness of both sweat and blood alike. Your fingers glide through it effortlessly, smudging it into the hardened planes of his body. You paint the blood against his skin, pressing your fingertips against him until your knuckles ache from beneath the pressure.

But you weren’t trying to push him away, no, you were trying to convey that you understood this primal need that was building up in his chest. That you understood the growling pleasure that rippled through his throat when you slid your tongue along the fangs that had threatened to rip you asunder so many times.

Maybe it’s just the adrenaline of the fight that keeps you from screaming and yelling at him to let you go. Maybe that’s why you lean more into him, trying your hardest to tell him you too wanted this.

This being an unknown ache in your chest that yearns to be touched by the man before you. This being something that feels so forbidden but so good. It’s intoxicating; to let go of everything that had clouded your mind in a red tint.

Sukuna occupies your mind flawlessly, as he seemed to do so for the last few long weeks, and now is no different. His sharpened canines clamp onto your bottom lip with a rolling growl, one that sounds like it was dredged up from the depths of hell. He doesn’t let go until you feel the flesh pinch and give way, the blood trickling into the cracks of your lips.

He’s shameless in the way his tongue replaces his teeth, dragging it along the fat of your bottom lip to then simply suck it into his mouth to ensure he got every drop of blood possible. Your nails dig into the muscle of his chest, dragging down until you leave behind red welts that are sure to turn into deep scratch marks come morning.

Yet Sukuna doesn’t stop you from idly injuring him, if anything, he continues to encourage it. His own claws dig into the flesh of your hips, squeezing until your flesh pools painfully between his fingers. It serves as a good distraction when he forces his tongue into your mouth, a muscle so much thicker than your own that you practically choke on it.

Here, with his tongue part way down your throat, you can taste the fury that sits dormant on his tongue. It lashes and curls against you until you’re forced to give in, it demands your subservience.

Your hand slides up along the sullied planes of his chest, up to his throat where you can feel the bob of his Adam’s apple when he swallows another futile gasp that you attempt to take. Slowly your fingers slide up further until they’re cupping the underside of his jaw, the muscles jumping with each aggressive passive of his tongue and you wonder briefly if he’s so blinded by his pleasure that he cannot see what’s coming next.

It happens far too quickly for Sukuna to stop it. Your fingers dig into the thickened muscle of his underjaw and you push his head away to see the red of his eyes swallowed whole by the black of his pupil. His lips whilst swollen are tinted in a deeper shade of pink that’s no doubt the blood that still beads on your bottom lip.

You can feel the struggle of his windpipe as he continues to try and suck in air despite you pressing so harshly against his throat. He doesn’t seem to care about the lack of oxygen, nor does he seem to care that you’re pressing harder and harder until you can feel the muscle starting to weaken to give way to the pressure.

Instead, he grins. A manic smile that spreads the blood on both his teeth and lips alike. “Do it,” he attempts to growl the world, but it sounds choked. “Kill me or I will devour you.”

It’s an ultimatum that in the past would have had you moving without hesitation — if you hadn’t had a taste of the power on his tongue or the vehemence of his passion, then perhaps you would’ve killed him. Instead, your nails dig vainly into the tightened muscles of his jaw, your lips smear across his own when you lean in.

You don’t miss the way his eyelids lower the closer you get to his face, and you definitely don’t miss the lump in his throat that he attempts to swallow despite the hold you still have on him. You wonder why a man as powerful as Ryoumen Sukuna is giving you the choice of what’s to happen next, you’re certain he could take what he wanted from you even if you tried to fight against it.

And yet. He nudges his nose against your own in a way that feels far too intimate for the predicament you find yourself in. It jolts your heart into a rapid pace, you don't want to feel any type of emotion for him at the moment other than blinded rage, a type of fury that can only be taken out on another person whilst pressed to their skin.

So it’s you who bites the others lip, your teeth aren’t nearly as sharp as his – you weren’t designed for the hunting of humans, but you still bite down as hard as you can. Sukuna’s grin falters for a second, and you wonder if those eyes of his are going to roll back with the pleasure he’s trying to suppress.

His blood tastes bitter against your tongue, tainted by the darkness that courses through his veins so freely. Sukuna doesn’t stop you from returning the favour; dragging your tongue along his bottom lip until all you can taste is copper. Instead, he groans, a rumbling sound that vibrates against the loosened hand at his throat and the flutter between your legs is inevitable.

“Good choice.” He speaks against your lips once you release him, this close you can see the specks of different shades of brown and red in his eyes – a beautiful array of maroon that has you so mesmerised you don’t register that he’s moving. A hand comes up beneath your thighs to shuffle you around until they’re wrapped tightly around his waist.

He wades his way through the destruction of your spat, uncaring for the shattered wood that only splinters further under the weight of his heavy footsteps. The chill of the wind is replaced by the chill of a partly dilapidated bedroom. You wonder if he’ll comment on how you destroyed his own sanctuary – destroyed years of scripture before he could even defend himself.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he dumps you onto the large bed you had found to be your own over the last few days. There’s debris that lays dormant around you, specks of old wood and shredded paper yet it doesn’t distract you from the looming beast at the foot of the futon. His arms shift slightly with every deep inhale he takes, his nostrils flaring and eyes roving down the length of your body.

You looked like you had been put through the paces, your kimono was hardly a kimono anymore and the blood that stained your skin had grown tacky over time. It’s unnerving how still he grows when he’s watching, a predator that’s adapted over the years to not alert his prey when he’s about to pounce.

Without much preamble, your fingers pull at the obi-belt at your waist until it’s tugged and untucked. Your kimono then has nothing to stop it from slipping away from your thighs, your stomach, chest, all on display for the man over you. His eyes track the movement flawlessly, all four eyes working hard to ensure he doesn’t miss the way your nipples peak in the midwinter cold.

Much like a creeping predator, he doesn’t say a word when his knees sink into the futon on either side of your legs. He wordlessly crowds you up along the bed until your head is pressed into the pillows. Two of his hands press into the softness of the futon on either side of your shoulders, holding him up above you whilst the other two arms are free to feel what belongs to him.

First, it’s the brush of a knuckle against one nipple, barely a touch before he traces that same knuckle along the supple soft skin of your underboob. He admires your body as if it were the finest china, as if it held the secrets to life just like his beloved collection of literature.

That same hand travels down along your body, pressing between the dips of your ribs a little harder as if he’s trying to find a weakness; a place to burrow himself deep inside of you and perhaps never leave. It’s oddly romantic, sensual yes but it brings a warmth to your face that not even your late-husband had ever achieved.

You can’t help but wonder just what he might be thinking about, if anything at all. He seems rather content with just running fingers along flesh that gives way to just a little pressure. The warmth of his finger transfers into the warmth of his palm when he presses it to your ribcage, his fingers expand nearly the width of your entire side.

He was truly gigantic; a beast that had you laid out in front of it as if you were its meal. You definitely feel that way.

A huff of breath from his nose finally breaks the silence that settled over the two of you. Your ears prick at the sound and you look up to meet his gaze immediately. He’s staring at you with an odd look in his eye, no doubt something complex bouncing around in his mind as he decides on what to do next.

He was a miraculous beast. Each of his moves were planned and coordinated, everything was set into motion underneath his guidance and plan and yet you had thrown him for a loop. You had not only challenged his power but then beheaded his bloodlust in one fell swoop. It wasn’t something a man like Sukuna could ever plan for, and here he is, turning over a myriad of different ideas whilst he watches your chest expand with each breath.

His thoughts are abruptly cut off however when you decide it’s your turn to touch him. Your hand is tiny in comparison to his chest, pressing into the pectoral muscle that acts as a shield to the thing that keeps him alive. You can feel the faint beat of his heart beneath the tips of your fingers, hammering away as if its only wish is to break free and rest in the palm of your hand.

Your fingers trace along the black tattoos that mark his chest, following them up until you reach his neck. Even there, the muscles are so thickly corded that you can’t help but question if you ever really had a chance at succeeding in killing him. He was designed for survivability, brutality, you never stood a chance.

But despite all that, despite all the muscle and raw strength, he caves in easily to the press of your fingers on the back of his neck. His body descends down onto yours until your stiffened nipples rub against his chest. With him so close to you like this, you’re once again gifted the chance to see his eyes and the many shades of cerise that reside there.

“Kiss me,” you demand albeit rather breathlessly, and Sukuna’s lips crack into a familiar grin that holds far too much heat and desire.

“Why?” He questions, though his face inches closer to yours with the insistence of your fingers pressing into the nape of his neck. “Why should I kiss you?”

He’s playing with his food, there’s no doubt about that and it makes your stomach clench. His lips hardly brush against your own, his breath so warm against your kiss-parched lips.

“Please.” You break and beg, and that grin grows impossibly wider; more fiendish. He won so easily and you can’t find it within you to care. Not when he presses his lips against yours.

It’s different to the fervent kiss that he had initiated outside, instead, it’s slower, more consuming. His lips move with yours so effortlessly as if you two were lovers who had practised this same dance for a millennium. Sukuna is the first to break away, smearing his spit-slickened lips down along the edge of your jaw until he finds himself a home against your neck.

Here he lays kisses against the scar that had appeared after his first attempt on your life. His tongue is smooth when it moves up along the marred flesh until he’s pressed just beneath your ear, his breath wet against the shell of your ear when he parts his lips to speak to you once again.

“You should’ve killed me.” His nose presses into the skin beneath your ear where he inhales deeply, and the kisses that lay against your skin once again muddy your words in your brain. You want to refute his claim, that no, you wanted this more than his death — right?

It comes far too quickly. A clamping of sharpened fangs that re-pierce both scar tissue and flesh. It’s an agonising pain that straightens out your spine and draws your muscles taut, and Sukuna does nothing to stop your hands that push against his chest because truthfully, you will never outpower him.

Whilst your brain is addled with the pain of his teeth sinking in until you swear you can feel him nicking your artery, there’s a smoothness between your legs. It makes you jolt in place, the broadness of the wet muscle that touched you is jarring. You hadn’t even realised that he had managed to wrangle your legs apart until they sat high on his waist, two hands holding your thighs steadfast against his stomach.

His stomach — that wet thing you feel is the tongue you had seen so many moons ago. You had noticed he refused to show you that mouth again, most likely because it was a weakness to him that you were capable of exploiting. The mouth on his stomach is ruthless in the way it devours you without shame, the width of his tongue is enough to cover the entirety of the wet heat between your thighs.

It presses with the right amount of pressure against your clit whilst the tip of it wades it through the sticky mess that’s quickly becoming out of hand. Sukuna doesn’t release your throat for some while, his groan is muffled against the skin he’s no doubt destroying with his teeth.

Your toes curl uselessly against the air, the heels of your feet digging into the muscles along Sukuna’s back when he presses his body further into your own — in turn, pressing the tip of his tongue against your entrance until you give way to it. It’s thick, long too, and he has far too much control over the way it writhes against your walls in hopes of bringing you to orgasm.

The moans that tumble from between swollen lips are hard to stop, especially when he figures out just what makes you jerk your hips beneath him when his tongue daringly flicks upwards inside of you. Your hands, unsure of what to do with them, find their way into his hair. Bruised fingers curling roughly against the pinkish strands until you’re tugging on them; hard.

Only then does Sukuna break his hold on your throat, a large hand immediately coming up to press against the ruined skin and it burns in an oddly delectable way when it mixes with the pleasure between your thighs. He hovers over you, lips so close to yours you can practically taste the blood on them.

“Cum.” He demands. An easy command for you to follow when you feel the familiar glowing warmth that seeps from his hand and into the wound he had reopened on your neck. His energy curls around your body so tightly, squeezing your lungs for all they’re worth when you suck in a harsh breath to only release it in a staggering moan.

You can’t help the way you yank on Sukuna’s hair, nor can you control the erratic jerking of your hips against his stomach when his tongue continues to wring out every last drop of your orgasm. It washes through you in violent waves, like the sea breaking on craggy rocks.

From the corner of your bleary eyes, you can see Sukuna’s own eyes narrowed in your direction; watching every move you make, observing the way you break apart for him so easily with just a mere flick of his tongue. His face turns back towards your neck once again, and for a moment that pleasure fades into an inkling of fear. He could kill you, right here and you’d do nothing to stop it from happening.

But he lowers himself down once again, the warmth of his breath rolls across the scar that had been healed once again. It feels raw, sensitive in the way that it would if it were an open wound but you don’t feel the pain of it. So you don’t scream when he drags his hot tongue against the scar, nor do you push him away when those long licks turn into languid kisses and nips.

The tongue between your legs doesn’t stop, however, but it does slow just enough to give you a second to breathe. He’s unashamed in the way he drags the second tongue through the thickening slick between your thighs, dragging it against your swollen lips until he finds that small bundle of nerves.

That too is swollen, and far too sensitive, and you can’t help but squeak under his ministrations. Sukuna chuckles lowly at the sound, the laugh just a vibration against your throat before he migrates his lips to the unmarred side of your throat. He hovers there for a while, contemplating perhaps if he should destroy this half of your neck too — to have his mark on you wholly.

The bite doesn’t come. Instead, you feel one of his wandering hands move downwards until he finds the sticky wet heat for himself. The tongue that had been devouring you retreats in favour of his hand, those thick fingers you’ve seen tearing muscles apart presses languidly against your clit.

They’re thick, thicker than your own fingers that’s for sure and you shouldn’t be surprised at any part of him being bigger than yourself. And yet, you still crumple your face in a mixture of sharp pain and pleasure when one of those fingers slips between your lips and plunges into your still throbbing pussy without so much as a warning.

Sukuna leans himself just back enough to devour your expression, his eyes are half-lidded, carnal lust clouding the usual bloodlust you usually saw there. He watches the way your eyebrows crumple together when he starts to fuck you with his finger, slowly, coaxing you back into that breathless panting state that he had you in just moments ago.

His finger curls and it’s a tight fit already, it presses against your walls so harshly that you jolt beneath him. It’s hard to see past your fluttering eyelashes, but you think you can see the growing grin on Sukuna’s face when he starts to roll his wrist just a little faster; fucking you with his finger until the squelching grows louder.

That same finger withdraws slowly, and the whining begging is on the tip of your tongue before it gives way to the shuddering moan that bubbles up through your throat. A second finger bullies its way into you, the stretch burns violently, a head-spinning kind of pain that has you stuck in a state of delirium.

“Good girl,” he coos, and it’s not nearly as condescending as you would expect from a man like Sukuna. Instead, it sounds like genuine praise, and that has your eyes finally rolling to the back of your head. He takes the chance to nose his way into your throat, dragging the tip of it up along the sweaty expanse of it. “Give me one more.”

It’s the only warning you get, if you could even call it that. His fingers are much more relentless now that he’s shoved two inside, they curl and scissor deep inside of you until you can feel small rivulets of your arousal dripping down the backs of your thighs and ass. Your hands clamp useless on his biceps, nails crushing into the skin until you feel it give way to the pressure.

Sukuna doesn’t flinch at the pain, doesn’t even hiss. Instead, he groans — a deep rumbling sound at the back of his throat. It pushes out a hot breath down the clammy skin along your throat, and sticks to the spit he smeared into the mixture of blood and soot that sat there.

The pace in which his hand moves is dizzying, all-consuming pleasure that has your chest tightening with each attempt at breathing out just to centre yourself. There’s no doubt that you’re hurtling towards an explosive orgasm, much stronger than the one you’d been given previously from the tongue that was now idly running itself up and down the back of your thighs to ensure nothing was wasted.

“S–” You suck in a harsh breath that tapers into a broken moan when he presses a thumb to your clit, manoeuvring it in a smooth circle until your stomach grows tight with tension. “Sukuna!”

“What is it?” He goads, leaning out of the space of your neck to look down at you with a predatory glint in his eyes. He knows exactly what you’re feeling, can feel the way your walls are rhythmically clamping down on his fingers in an attempt to stave off the orgasm that was no doubt going to drain you for all you were worth before anything had even happened.

You’re not sure if you can get the words off of your tongue, to let him know that you’re on the brink of a devastating orgasm. Your tongue feels like heavy lead in your mouth, and your lips are stuck slightly ajar with laboured panting breaths. Sukuna all but watches with lust-filled amusement, four eyes working to lap up each and every expression.

You’re close. You’re so close, it’s right there, just within grasping reach and when your toes start to curl and your back arches just so—

It’s ripped away from you.

Sukuna stills his arm, and in turn his fingers become idle whilst buried deep inside of you. The stretch doesn’t burn nearly as much as the flame in your chest at your potentially ruined orgasm. You meet Sukuna’s gaze, and he’s grinning at what must be the visible burning rage in your eyes.

“I asked you a question.” He replies to your anger, and you wish you could will your arms into moving; just so you could slap him across the face for taunting you with your own pleasure. “Answer me and I’ll give you what you want.”

Perhaps if you weren’t being stretched open on thick fingers you would’ve had a smart retort to spit back to the grinning monster. It comes far too easily to bend to his whim, to let your mind slip away from rationality and give in to the pleasure he promises you.

“Please,” you breathe, head fuzzy and tongue thick in your mouth. “Please fuck me.”

Sukuna’s eyebrows raise a little, but his grin doesn’t falter even through his surprise — he hadn’t expected you to give in so quickly, nor did he think you were asking to be fucked so quickly.

Those same fingers shift just slightly, a quick and cruel curl to press against that overly sensitive spot. You jerk under his ministrations, your nipples rubbing harshly against the smooth planes of his pectoral muscles. You can’t fight the glare you give him when he chuckles at your plight, and you lose the chance to slap him when he leans fully out of your space.

He kneels before you, your legs slung uselessly over the tops of his thighs and hips. His fingers slip from you with a slick noise that has heat burning in your chest and roaring in your ears, it’s obscene just how well he seemed to know your body when it was his first time using you in such a way.

You watch in near-quietness, panting in awe when he drags those same fingers into his mouth, the tongue in his actual mouth isn’t nearly as large as the one that continues to lick at the juices on his stomach. But he still uses it in a way that has you squirming, he sucks the mixture of creamy juices free from his fingers all whilst staring down at you from his newfound position.

A set of arms that aren’t occupied now start to untuck his own obi, a quick movement that has him lashing the fabric across the destroyed room so that the ruined kimono falls away.

Your stomach drops and swoops.

Truly, you should’ve expected that maybe there was more to him than what meets the eye. You should’ve known a man with four arms, two faces and two mouths would also have two cocks. You were naive to believe he’d be… ‘normal’ below the belt.

Your surprise must be something worth laughing at, as Sukuna nearly snorts at the expression on your face. One large hand loops around both shafts, pressing them tightly together before he rolls his wrist to stroke up and down in smooth motions. You can see two thick black banded tattoos on both of his cocks too.

“If I knew this would get you to shut that pretty mouth of yours, I would’ve fucked you a long time ago.” Sukuna sneers down the broadness of his nose, long fingers speeding up whilst he strokes himself. His eyes drag down your body before they settle between your thighs, observing the way you’re spread open for him so prettily — like a meal waiting to be devoured.

Instead of invading your space once again, a pair of hands wrap themselves around your calves and tug you higher up on his thighs. Here you feel the sticky tip of his cocks press against your silky slit, both heads rubbing up and down with the easy roll of his wrist. Sukuna’s eyes naturally all dart down to watch the mess he’s creating, watch the way your pussy continues to drool for him when he presses his cockheads against your swollen clit.

A shot of panic races up and down the bumps of your spine when he dips both tips down towards your entrance, and your fingers only just brush against his chest in the hunched-over position he’s in. It’s not a push nor is it a scratch, and yet Sukuna’s head snaps up to look at you quickly as if you had done both of those things.

“It’s not going to fit,” you wet your lips, blinking away the blurry fuzz that’s settling in your brain. “I can’t take both.”

His gaze flits back down towards your pussy, and you half expect him to ignore your concerns and stuff you full but surprisingly he doesn’t. Instead, he adjusts his grip just slightly on his cocks, grasping one of them fully to guide just the one to your awaiting entrance.

“You will,” he counters, his thighs spreading just slightly to ensure you’re spread to your widest. “With time. You’ll learn to take both.”

And even with just an easy roll of his hips, and the press of his thumb against the topside of his cock, he slides into you with great effort. His fingers were nothing in comparison to the mushroomed head of his cock and the natural thick girth that followed. It has your fingers gripping uselessly onto the dusty futon beneath you, and your toes curling in the air.

Sukuna isn’t better off either, you can see the way his stomach concaves slightly with each deep breath he has to take to ensure he doesn’t lose his mind the further he sinks into your awaiting pussy. The hands that were clamped around your calves have slipped to your thighs, pushing your knees further into your chest.

You feel so exposed beneath him like this. Split apart on one of the cocks belonging to the very man who had killed your father, it’s a sickening thought and still, it has you clamping down on him the further he pushes into you.

Finally, Sukuna’s facade breaks and he hisses through gritted fanged teeth. “Relax woman.” He snarls, the tips of black claws dig into the fat of your thighs.

“Too much, ‘s too much.” You slur with a tapered-off moan when he gives an experiment roll of his hips to see if he could truly fit every last inch of himself inside of you. Your hands push uselessly at his chest when he starts to fold himself down over you, crowding you into the bed so all you can hear, smell and see is him. Him. Him.

One of his free hands comes to grab at your wrists, enveloping both of them with just one palm and he shoves them into the bed above your head. Now you truly do feel exposed. Your entire body is open for him to do as he pleases, and you can see that realisation settle into his eyes when they glimmer with thoughts that no doubt would bring you both pleasure and pain.

His second cock rubs devilishly against your clit, and the underside throbs with a thick vein that begs for more than just a gentle touch of both your clit and pubic hair. The sensation has your eyes rolling limply in your head, and you don’t doubt that it only aids in ensuring you’re as wet as humanly possible for the monster of a man who huffs out heavy breaths atop of you.

Sukuna sounds like he’s been gravely wounded once he does finally bottom out inside of you, the groan is a rumbling growl that shakes through your entire body in turn. The sticky tip of his upper cock lays against your belly button, drooling with arousal.

You can’t see the outside world anymore with how he hunkers down over you, the broadness of his shoulders blots out the night sky. His face is just mere inches away from your own. His breath, hot puffs of air against your sweaty and once-bloody cheek. You’re fairing no better, your own breath mingles with his own until it becomes impossibly warmer between the both of you.

The harsh stretch has already begun to bleed into blissful pleasure, it no longer burns in an unpleasant way but rather it’s all the more enticing. You want to feel that stretch in the morning, whenever you shift your thighs you want to feel the length of him still buried there in phantom memory. But Sukuna is steadfast in the position he holds over you, large lungs sucking in greedy breaths as if he’s teetering on the edge.

You roll your hips, and it earns you a vicious snarl that you’ve seen on the faces of dogs and wolves alike. His upper lip reveals those sharpened canines that had only moments ago ripped apart your neck before he healed you. It’s a warning, of course, to keep still. But you don’t listen, you roll your hips again the best you can beneath the mass of his weight.

“Enough…” He growls the word, sounding much more like the demon he portrays himself as.

But you whine in response, seconds away from pouting. “Move.”

His upper lip twitches again in annoyance, all four eyes narrowed in your direction as if he’s contemplating something. Then his nostrils flare, and his shoulders roll just enough for you to know he’s made his mind up on something.

The next roll of his hips is aggressive, borderline violent. The tops of his thighs smack against your thighs and ass, and the squelch of his cock burying itself once again in the depths of your pussy is awfully loud. Almost loud enough to blot out the half-scream-moan you let out.

His pace from there on out doesn’t falter, not once. His hips roll effortlessly until he’s fucking you so deeply that you can feel him battering against your cervix; as if he’s trying to push himself impossibly deeper. It’s painful but it’s the type of pain that blends so beautifully into pleasure that you can’t stop your eyes from fluttering to a near-close.

“Is this enough for you?” He snarls through gritted teeth, sweat beading along his temples and dripping along the pinkish strands until they stick to his forehead.

You can’t form a reply on your tongue, far too lost in the throes of pleasure that your tongue is useless in your mouth. You can only gasp and moan when he starts to fuck you in quick yet deep thrusts, not fully pulling out in lieu of fucking up into the overly sensitive spot that has your back arching.

His hands on the underside of your thighs adjust their grip, instead, he pushes your legs into the crooks of his elbows before planting his hands solidly onto the bed. Sukuna manoeuvres his body over yours, effectively folding you in half until your lower half is nearly higher than your head. It’s much harder to breathe like this, even more so when he lets go of your wrists so he can wrap a thick hand around your throat.

There’s a moment of stillness, so he could feel the rhythmic clenching of your pussy around the thickness of his cock. His secondary cock still lays against your pussy, pressed so harshly against it that you can feel each time it twitches and throbs with yearning.

His nostrils flare when he levels you with a stare; a look that you’ve come to recognise as one he wears when he’s about to win a conquest. He looks fierce, regal, every part the King of Curses you’ve come to know him as. You half worry that maybe he’ll squeeze the life from your throat instead of fucking you. Those long fingers donned with sharp claws tense at your throat, squeezing ever so slightly in silent threat.

He’s the one in charge here. And he wants you to know that.

“Perhaps this’ll be enough to satiate you.” A snarling of words.

Then he’s moving, again, but this time it’s with a different purpose. It’s still to fuck you, yes, but he’s asserting his dominance over you entirely. His cock slides deeply at this angle, hitting against your cervix and g-spot almost simultaneously. It’s intoxicating, suffocating in the best type of way.

His cock throbs deep inside of you, twitching with each and every pulse of your own silky walls when they clench uselessly around his cock. Nothing would stop him from fucking you like the beast that he is.

“Cum,” he growls, leaning down into your space even more until it feels like your legs may just snap beneath his weight. “Cum for me.”

You couldn’t disobey him even if you tried. His hips roll smoothly, as he has clearly mastered the art of fucking a woman to completion. As if the pleasure of his extra cock rubbing against your clit wasn’t enough, he draws a free hand to press his cock a little harder against your clit – to ensure the friction was so infuriatingly good that you couldn’t help but moan.

And moan you do, it comes in the form of his name. “S-Sukuna!”

The orgasm is violent. As is the nature of things when you’re being fucked by a man-turned-monster. He keeps you locked into position, not budging when you start to buck beneath him and cum for him. It’s quite different to the first, it comes too quickly; too aggressively that you can’t stop the sudden burst of your arousal.

The tongue on Sukuna’s stomach is quick to loll out, dragging itself along his lower stomach where you had squirted. Then it does something that has your swollen pussy clenching impossibly tighter around the cock buried deep inside of you — the thick stomach tongue drags along the shaft of his free cock, savouring each and every last drop of your own release before it vanishes back into his stomach.

It’s absurd. Should make you shiver and look away in disgust at just how he’s modified his body but instead it’s nothing but alluring; something you want to get to know more intimately.

However, Sukuna doesn’t grant you that. Instead, he abruptly withdraws his cock from you in such a way that it has you clenching around nothing. He releases you from the harsh mating press he had you in, his hands tenderly handling your legs so they’re stretched out fully.

It’s an awfully intimate touch, something that has your stomach flipping with more than just the fading bliss of your previous orgasm.

But then those hands grab at your waist, and your world is twisted until you can see nothing but the bloodied and dusty futon. He moves you as if you were nothing more than a doll to him, and perhaps in comparison to him; that’s all you were — a doll, something he could break with just a flick of his wrist.

The thought has you wishing your pussy was clenching around his cock instead of air.

Those large hands on your waist don’t remove themselves, instead, he caresses the thickness of your hips. Presses his fingers into you until your flesh spills between thick fingers, it’s impossible to try and think what he may be contemplating when you can feel two cocks twitch impatiently against the dripping wet heat between your legs.

Sukuna shifts his position behind you eventually, propping himself up on one knee whilst the other foot plants itself next to you. The fronts of his thighs brush against yours, and only then do you realise he’s lowered his body down enough so that he’s aligned with you. A spare hand smooths down the length of your spine, gradually increasing pressure until your face is pressed into the futon.

“Be good, and hold still.” He commands, and there’s more movement behind you. That hand that had guided you downwards shifts up, tangling within your already dirtied strands, uncaring for the blood that has dried and matted there.

The entirety of his palm engulfs the back of your head, his fingers nearly reaching the front of your hairline. You knew Sukuna was massive, gigantic in every way but it’s something entirely different when he has his hands on you. It’s a gut-clenching realisation that you were truly nothing but a gnat when it came to fighting him.

The only free hand left comes between the two of you, grasping at the base of both of his cocks until the tips of them knock almost painfully against your clit. It has you jolting beneath the pinning grip Sukuna holds over you.

Those hands on your hips suddenly grip you tighter, and it’s a second of confusion before you feel the stretch. The stretch of both his cocks in one hole. Automatically it has you clenching impossibly tighter around him, your painful back arch deepens until it feels like you’re going to hurt yourself.

Sukuna hisses through gritted teeth, the hiss turning into a guttural growl. “Relax.”

You can’t. You can’t relax when he’s forcing you to split around both of his cocks. The hands at your hips slip back slightly, grasping at your ass until he’s spreading you wide without any care for how it may make you feel awfully exposed.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he growls again, “Did your husband not fuck you?”

No. He didn’t. You want to snap at him for bringing up your late husband when he’s trying to fuck you full with both of his cocks, but your tongue knows only one thing — to aid you in moaning through the painful pleasure.

Sukuna however seems to know the answer, as he laughs meanly. “Of course not.”

Finally, Sukuna halts in his conquest to stuff you full on both his cocks. You can tell he’s only halfway in, the warmth of his thighs is too distant for him to be buried to the hilt. The grunt that escapes Sukuna is nothing but pure frustration. You can only glance over your shoulder awkwardly at him, and you watch the grin that grows on his face when he formulates his next plan of action.

There’s a quick sudden wet sensation against your ass, his jaw working quickly to ensure that the spit that drops from his tongue is plentiful. He hunches himself back over your body slightly, the angle forces you to take more of his dual-cock painfully whilst also ensuring his stomach presses against your ass.

“No. No man would know how to handle you, you’re too good for them.” The tongue you’ve quickly become acquainted with returns, it presses lewdly against your asshole. Ensuring the tongue is dripping with spit, wriggling it against you feels so foreign – so wrong, and yet it has your jaw dropping to release the most obscene moan of the night.

It makes Sukuna grin down at you. “There you are.”

The tongue shoves harder against you, pressing until that tight ring of muscle gives way and you can feel the thickness of his secondary tongue stretching you wide — wide enough for his cock. His hands still gripping your ass continue to spread you impossibly wider, his body pressing forward just a little more so that he could stuff you further with his tongue.

But as quickly as he had begun, driving you to the brink of insanity with how much control he had over his second tongue, he pulls back. His body shifts, and you’re suddenly free of both of his cocks. It draws a pitiful moan from your cracked and dried lips, and Sukuna only snickers at your predicament.

The tip of his upper cock presses against the tight rim of your ass, teasing there for a moment whilst he returns the lower cock to the still-clenching hole of your pussy. He uses the width of his large hand to ensure he can hold both of them steady whilst he guides them inwards, you expect it to be just as painful…

Instead, it’s anything but. It’s enough to make you drool into the sullied sheets, enough to have you even pushing your hips backwards to aid in ensuring he’s buried to the hilt deep inside of you sooner rather than later.

And it’s here that you finally hear Sukuna moan, not the guttural groans or growls that he’d been giving you since this started. But a genuine moan. And it has your toes curling painfully. You wanted more of that; to hear the man behind the vicious teeth and hardened muscle — you wanted Ryomen.

The warmth of his thighs finally brushes against the back of your own, and you feel beyond stuffed — any more, then surely you’ll burst from the pressure. With each passing second you can feel your brain slowly emptying of any rational thought; all to be quickly replaced with a mantra of Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna.

It’s a brief pause, a moment of respite from the overwhelming pleasure — for both of you. You can feel each of Sukuna’s fingers flexing and squeezing against your hip, the way his hips shift just slightly as if it was an automatic response to fuck you. It’s mind-numbing how good it actually felt, to be stuffed by not one but two cocks.

Then, he moves. It has you gasping into the sheets, sucking in not enough oxygen that only makes your head feel even fuzzier. You deepen the arch of your back subconsciously, your chest presses uncomfortably into the futon beneath you and yet the change of angle; the way both of his cocks bully themselves deeper into you — it has you both moaning.

You don’t even realise you’re whimpering, blabbering nonsense as Sukuna continues to fuck you mindlessly. His hand on the back of your head slips away from your scalp, careful to not painfully tug on the strands of hair that are still coated in blood and dirt. It’s filthy, to be fucking the way you are, and yet it’s the best sex of your life.

That hand instead slips downwards, long fingers curling around your throat until you can’t breathe. His pace quickens, both of his cocks now slick with your juices and spit slip in and out of you without any resistance at all. Loud, filthy, squelching sounds are the result of your shared pleasure.

His heavy balls slap aggressively against your clit, each slap sending miniature bolts of lightning shooting down your spine until they buzz at the back of your skull. The lack of oxygen and sharp bursts of pleasure have your vision darkening.

Sukuna, clearly more aware of what he’s doing to you than you realise, releases your throat for a moment to let you gasp for breath — and with it, comes the most violent orgasm of the night. It has you squeezing so tightly around both of his cocks that Sukuna lets loose one of the most indecent groans you’ve heard all night.

It has you clenching tenfold, unable to control the waves of pleasure that continue to roll down your body to the very tips of your toes. Sukuna’s hands slip away from your hips and up to your waist, whilst the one at your throat glides along your shoulder until he’s feeling along your arm.

Slowly, he lays his weight down on top of you until you’re forced to buckle beneath him. Your stomach presses into the futon, and your legs are forced to stretch naturally down the bed. Now atop of you, Sukuna grasps both of your hands with his own and pins them into the sheets just above your head.

It’s quite the stretch on your body, almost painfully so. But you don’t air your complaints, instead, you simply press the side of your face more into the bed so you can eye Sukuna who’s hovering oh-so-close to you. He looks how you feel; fucked out. His eyes are hazy, and his lips are swollen as if he’d been biting on them to stop himself from moaning.

The new position has him reaching deeper than you thought possible, you can feel every inch of him, every throbbing vein and every twitch of his cock – he was close, you could feel it.

Sukuna adjusts his position slightly over you, bringing his knees back under him solidly. This close you can feel his body heat, an all encasing warmth that has sweat pooling in the dip of your spine and along the back of your neck. He looks impossibly huge like this, all glistening bunched muscles with rings of dark tattoos that should scare you; as they are the markings of a monster.

But it doesn’t. Not at this very moment. It feels too… intimate, for you to feel scared of him. Instead, it swirls something unfamiliar in your stomach, something you had never felt with your husband in his failed attempts to produce an heir. It’s odd. It doesn’t mix well with the contempt you should be bubbling with for the man over you, but still, it has you melting beneath him until both of your bodies meld together perfectly.

His hips roll effortlessly despite the shift in position, but ultimately you could feel the sloppiness behind each thrust. He was much closer than you realised, and that has you propping your hips up just slightly, pushing back into the man who groans his approval into your ear.

“You’ll be the death of me,” he admits in a breath, his voice deepened with the lust that continues to drive his hips forward with a loud slap of hips against the fat of your ass.

Being this close, he’s able to bury his nose into your hair, inhaling deeply whilst his body does the work for him. Muscles that were already tensed and tight like the string of a bow grow tighter, his stomach feels like rock each time it brushes against your lower back.

“This warm, tight pussy…” He groans crudely, nose pressing harder into your hair. “It’s mine. Only mine.”

His fingers had slipped between your own from where they pin you to the bed, and they squeeze you in rhythm with each of his thrusts. His breathing grows ragged; huffs of air and deep groans lost in the way he buries himself further into the mess of your hair.

“Only yours.. Always yours–” You try to breathe, sucking in a harsh breath when he ruts particularly hard. “Ryomen.”

The hands at your waist tighten suddenly, elongated claw-like nails digging into your flesh — and it’s your only warning before he meets his end. Sukuna spills himself deep inside of you, pressing himself as far as he can into you in this position. You can feel the heat of it, burning at your insides as it continues to spill from both of his cocks. It’s an intense feeling, though it doesn’t have you feeling disgusted or even annoyed at the fact he had spilt himself inside of you.

You moan with him, pushing your hips back just slightly with a soft clench of your velvety warm walls. His own hips buck into yours in response, and the rumbling growl that rolls down the expanse of your back from how closely he’s pressed to you is warning enough — don’t push your luck.

Neither of you move for a moment, bathing in the after-sex mystified air that still floats around the both of you. Sukuna keeps his nose buried into your hair, nosing his way across until he passes by your ear and ends by your cheek. You can hardly keep your eyes from fluttering shut at the proximity of him.

As he hovers there, so close that you can count his eyelashes and feel the harsh breaths still billowing out of his nose, you have no idea what he might be thinking. But the thoughts are brushed away when he lays a gentle kiss so unbefitting of the man against your cheek, it’s hardly there – a ghost of a kiss, and suddenly he’s out of your space.

The squelch of him withdrawing from you is disgusting, enough to make you hide your face in the crook of your arm in an attempt to cover your embarrassment. Except, Sukuna has other plans. All four hands are on your body, scooping both you and your tattered kimono up into his arms.

“What are you doing?!” You yelp at the sudden shift in height, and you’re jostled in his arms until your hands press into the sweat-slicked planes of his chest.

“Someone got brave and destroyed the majority of the room.” His words are almost enough to re-spark that fire in your gut but the ache in your body forces it to remain a smouldering flame. “I have other rooms. Not as grand, but somewhere you can rest.”

You suppose he does have a point. You had destroyed the room in near totality, the cold mountain breeze suddenly makes itself known again. It sticks to the quickly drying sweat on your body, and that alone is enough to have you leaning into Sukuna to sap the warmth from his skin.

He doesn’t say anything about it, doesn’t even make another snide remark about what had transpired before… that. Instead, his fingers curl a little more into your skin to ensure you’re pressed into him as much as possible. The walk to the room Sukuna speaks of isn’t too long, thankfully, you dread to think about where Kenjaku might be.

If you ran into her on the way to the bedroom… you don’t doubt that she’d ridicule you for it. A flashing memory of her skin tearing appears in your mind, the slick sound of skin separating in such a way has you turning your face into the thick muscle of Sukuna’s shoulder.

Again, Sukuna says nothing of your movement. Instead, he uses one of his lower arms to grab the shoji door handle to slide it smoothly open, ducking beneath the threshold and closing the door behind him.

True to his word, the room is smaller than the one you had torn apart with your cursed energy. But it’s just as regal, the futon bed here is also on a raised platform and is as massive as the one you had been fucked on. Sukuna moves with fluid steps, shifting down onto his knees to smoothly deposit you on the bed.

You want to talk to him. You need to. You can’t brush away the hurt with sex, and you don’t want him to think he had gotten away with it — he hadn’t. You’d never forgive him for what he did, would you? Your lips part, and Sukuna takes steps away from you and towards a chest you hadn’t noticed on the way in.

“Sukuna,” you call out for him, and he makes a point of ignoring you as he digs through the chest to pluck out two different haori. “...Sukuna. We have to talk.”

The black haori is dropped into your lap, and he turns away uncaring for your words. You watch the smooth planes of his back flex with the movement, and he throws his own grey haori over his shoulders before you can see the muscles of his thighs and ass—

“Tomorrow.” He counters instead, turning back to look at you. An eyebrow raises at you in expectancy, and it has you moving to wrap yourself in the silky material. It’s much too big on your body; it’s one of his own personal haori. The sleeves drag along the bed, pooling around you when you settle to look back up at him.

He’s still staring at you, daring you to defy his order and continue on your conquest to get your answers tonight when neither of you was in the right headspace for it.

“Sleep, Y/N. I don’t want to fight you again.” He uses his name like a weapon, it digs into your ribcage and presses into your stuttering heart. You’d never heard him say your name before, always a pet name. You assumed he didn’t even care enough to know your name.

It has you quickly glancing down at your cupped hands, still coated in a layer of blood and dirt. You wished you could’ve bathed before sleeping. But you don’t want to fight Sukuna, not yet, he had successfully drained you of your energy in not just the fight but everything that came after.

So you slide further back onto the bed, pushing down the futon sheets as you go until you’re beneath them. Sukuna remains stationary near the entrance of the room, strong arms crossed over his chest. Once you settle into the bed does he move, turning towards the door and only confirming your suspicions that he didn’t plan on sleeping in the same bed as you.

“Stay.” You say quickly. And as expected, or rather unexpected, Sukuna stills. His hand remains frozen against the door, waiting, you realise – he’s waiting to see if you mean it. “Sleep here with me.”

“I told you. I don’t sleep–”

“Please.” You implore, shifting the sheets back to show that you meant it. He stares at you over one shoulder, eyebrows scrunched together as if he couldn’t quite understand you. You wait for the refusal, the snarling curl of his lip and the blatant disgust that comes with the prospect of something so intimate.

But Sukuna drops his hand from the door, and he turns to face you again. His footsteps are measured, calculated, as he makes his way to the other side of the bed. You don’t say anything, perhaps out of fear that he’d turn tail and run before he actually went through with it. You only lay down when he does, watching as he lays on his front with all four of his arms tucked beneath the pillow to support his head.

Now you understand why he needed the bed space; his arms.

You can’t help but stare at him, however — he looks uncomfortable. Out of place. He’s not facing you, opting to face the other way. Most likely to avoid your prying eyes. So you turn over, your back now exposed for Sukuna to strike if he so wished it.

But you don’t expect him to. Something tonight had transpired, something that changed a part of both of you. You can’t deny that your heart thunders in excitement at the prospect of laying with him, even if it sours when you remember just what had occurred before you were pinned beneath him on his bed.

He killed your father.

Yet he had gone to great lengths to hide that sword from you, why? You didn’t take Sukuna as a man to hide away the fact he won a fight. Especially a fight against someone who was so powerful; not just with cursed energy but the title of Shogun wasn’t something to sneeze at.

You’d get your answers. You’d find out the truth as to why Sukuna had killed your father, and why he hadn’t told you about it.

But for now… you relax into the futon, burying your face into the softness of the sheets that lack the distinct smell you’d grown to enjoy in the previous bedroom. Except, when you breathe deep, you find that the smell is much stronger with the source directly behind you.

And that’s enough to lull you to sleep, to close your eyes and let the worries of what’s to come slip away… for now.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #banner artwork is official game art for ghost of tsushima made by ian jun wei chiew

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david-talks-sw · 11 months

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More George Lucas debunking misconceptions about the Prequel Jedi:

"Anakin killed the Jedi in retaliation. They failed him, betrayed him and didn't allow him to have a relationship, so he killed them all."

"[In Revenge of the Sith] The controversy is going to be that people expect some horrible, horrific thing to happen to [Anakin] that caused him to [become Darth Vader]. It's much subtler. It's something that everybody faces— when you're looking at yourself, you can see your good and your bad, and say, "Is this a selfish choice or is this a compassionate choice? And once I get something, what would I do to keep from losing it? Would I make a pact with the devil to keep it?" - Entertainment Weekly #785, 2004

"… some of the people had a hard time with the reason that Anakin goes bad. [...] They wanted a real betrayal, such as, "You tried to kill me so now I'm going to try and kill you." They didn't seem to understand the fact that Anakin is simply greedy. There is no revenge." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 188

"The rest of the Jedi have dogmatically forgotten how to love out of fear of having attachments, Qui-Gon is the only one who knows that you can love people selflessly, without getting possessive."

"The fact that everything must change and that things come and go through his life and that he can't hold onto things, which is a basic Jedi philosophy that he isn't willing to accept emotionally and the reason that is because he was raised by his mother rather than the Jedi. If he'd have been taken in his first year and started to study to be a Jedi, he wouldn't have this particular connection as strong as it is and he'd have been trained to love people but not to become attached to them. But he has become attached to his mother and he will become attached to Padmé and these things are, for a Jedi, who needs to have a clear mind and not be influenced by threats to their attachments, a dangerous situation." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

"Obviously, it’s a progression. But in [Attack of the Clones], you begin to see that he has a fear of losing things, fear of losing his mother. And as a result, he wants to begin to control things, he wants to become more powerful. And these are not Jedi traits. And part of this is because he started to be trained so late in life, that he had already formed these attachments. And for a Jedi, attachment is forbidden. You can love people, but you have to love them unconditionally, in terms that you can’t hold on to them." - CNN, “Countdown to the Clones”, 2002

"The Jedi are trained to let go. They're trained from birth. They’re not supposed to form attachments. They can love people - in fact, they should love everybody. They should love their enemies; they should love the Sith. But they can't form attachments. So what all these movies are about is: greed. Greed is a source of pain and suffering for everybody. And the ultimate state of greed is the desire to cheat death." - The Making of Revenge of The Sith, page 213

"Ultimately for a Jedi Knight, it’s very easy to give up. One of the things they give up is marriage. They can still love people. But they can’t possess them. They can’t own them. They can’t demand that they do things. They have to be able to accept the fact, one, their mortality, that they are going to die. And not worry about it. That the loved ones they have, everything they love is going to die and they can’t do anything about it." - Celebration V, Main Event, 2010

"The Jedi in The High Republic are the Jedi in their prime/heyday. By the time of the Prequels, they've become political and dispassionate/prohibitive."

"[In Phantom Menace] you see the heyday of the Jedi, when they are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, sort of like the old marshals out West. And there's thousands of them." - Vanity Fair, 1999

"We've actually never seen real Jedi at work, we've only seen crippled half-droid half-men, and young boys that had learned from these old people. So to see a Jedi in his prime fighting in the prime of the Jedi, I want it to be a much more energetic and faster version of what we've been doing." - The Phantom Menace, “Fights”, 2001

"Jedi Knights aren't celibate - the thing that is forbidden is attachments - and possessive relationships." - BBC News, 2002

"[When Obi-Wan talks to Anakin about politicians, we learn about] the Jedi’s disenchantment with the political process, due to the corruption and the ineffectiveness of the Senate." - Attack of the Clones, Director’s Commentary, 2002

"The Jedi aren't really allowed to be involved in the political process. They're [present in the Senate when Palpatine is given emergency powers], but they can't suddenly step up and say, "No, no. You can't do that." They have to let the political process go." - Attack of the Clones, Commentary Track #2, 2002

#this was in my drafts for a while #and I noticed I hadn't shared 3-4 of these quotes yet like -the EW one -the 'disenchantment' one or -the CNN one #so I figured I'd do two birds one stone; update it quickly with the new quotes & share it #george lucas #jedi order #long post #collection of quotes #star wars #in defense of the jedi #pro jedi

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dorcas4meadowes · 2 months

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Hiii!!! This is my first time really leaving a request but imagine being like best friends with Clarisse but also dating Luke and her dating Chris bc like gossiping about them, double dates, the entire dynamic would be fire

Double Dates

Pairing - Luke Castellan x reader!Zeus

Warning - alcohol, light fighting, kisses

W/c - 4k

(Pretend weather affects inside chb, this sorta drags on, but i plan to make a pt 2 with more double date energy)

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The woods were decorated with pinecones and screams.

Misery and Kleos sounded almost indecipherable, so you didn’t attempt to assist or applaud the shrieks. The atmosphere held both despair and glory, the bizarre feeling almost painful since you gained neither.

You hesitated to continue with Clarisse’s order to stay on the outskirts of the forest. The only fight you met from a handful of Demeter kids who were focused on decaying vegetation, the win was disappointing.

The path you trailed left a strange configuration, the ground exposing your depleted performance through the snow underfoot, many prints leading in circles. You trudged through the silent woodland and listened to the creak of tree limbs and distant bird chatter, all unnerving through the stillness.

Your breath rose like smoke as you watched it spiral above you to the sky which was darkened with clouds. The dim light made it difficult for you while you cautiously stepped over broken logs, your path only met with an end of secrecy and the border rive, which had frozen over delicately.

Perhaps you were hoping for chaos, so when a sudden sound of leaves rustled it startled your intrigue. The disturbance led you to hit your spear against the blanketed ground, the impact causing an abrupt burst of energy to illuminate the forest's demeanour and electrify your weapon.

You held it out in front of you, your head swiftly turning to a figure which emerged from the shade of a pine.

“Look, I don't want to hurt you”.

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend's concern, “I have no worries Castellan”.

You both remained still for a few seconds, studying each other's stance and hold, his mere presence made you aware of your entire body. You took a swift inhale before you stepped in his direction. You went first, but his move to block your attack was fluid and precise. Each defend and bout almost choreographed.

You obstructed his hit and retaliated quickly which he caught with the edge of his blade. He began to step closer and push your spear and so it held above you, his lips toying with his stupid smirk.

With one arm he kept both your weapons up and with his other he took the helmet from his head and shook out his sweaty curls and pushed yours away as well.

But as he challenged you with one hand his grip depleted, beginning to shake from the impulses which your weapon emitted. He was strong, but not enough. He kept nearing closer, your arms drifting further above you, his nose just brushing against yours.

“You forfeit?" he whispered, his lips grazing against yours with each word.

He expected a weak response - words to fuel his glory - but instead a soft kiss was pressed to his lips, followed by a quick pull away from your weapon and leap of your body as he staggered forward. Your spear pushed against his armour which had him on the ground. With a swift kick you pushed the sword out of his disorientated hands, and stood in front of him with a hand on your hip, your other on your weapon.

“On your knees Castellan?”, your head tilted to one side, his lips opened to speak, but they closed when a racing body leapt across the ice another behind it eagerly.

Clarisse screamed words which were inaudible, but with the blue flag crumpled in her hands and a victorious smile etched onto her face, you took no time in cheering, the conch matching your excitement.

Chris stood beside her panting and flipped you off, you gratefully responded with your finger before turning back to your boyfriend who’s shoulder still had a twitch from the electricity.

“You surrender?” you asked, leaning down to him a little to emphasise your poise.

“Never”.

Unexpectedly a pile of snow was launched at your chest plate causing sleet to fall down your back and into your bra, the rush of cool making you shriek. You immediately began to throw whatever was in reach at Luke, his laughs only excelling.

You didn't exactly know when you toppled into the snow, but when you couldn’t feel your fingers and your clothes were drenched, the cold only emphasised your desire for a shower.

The showers never afforded much privacy, even though your body remained a mere suggestion - apart from your shoulders - you found discomfort in knowing you could catch someone's gaze at any moment. So you waited promptly until the stalls were vacant, except for friends you could tolerate.

It was almost an established procedure that Luke would shower prior to you, then hold you in company while you did so.

His head leant against the wooden timbers, his curls dampened by the rising steam, his barely audible words competing against the chorus of water. Some days he would join you, but you wanted soap to drip trace your body instead of his hands.

It was rare you could come by hot water, so when the infrequent heat left the tap you merged yourself in the soothing rhythm. The drips were like summer rain and fell onto your skin in all the right ways.

“Baby, it would be nice to get out,” Luke said and continued his last sentence.

“We went out when the twins threw that party”.

“That was months ago, plus Clarisse is going”, his response was inattentive as he grew amused by the veins on his own arm, flexing mindlessly.

“Is she?” you asked.

“She’s going if you’re going, and Chris is going if she goes”.

“Couldn’t we watch a movie instead? I saw a new trailer, Jennifer's body. I think it’s about a cheerleader or something”.

“We do that every night”.

“How long do you plan on staying at this thing for?” you asked, as a bar of soap slipped from your hands.

“A few hours maybe”.

“I have to watch the Apollo kids get sloppy drunk for a few hours!”

“You don’t have to, Beauregard will be there and you can dance with her, and for one i’ll be there”.

You turned the shower off and asked Luke to hand you your towel which wrapped around your steam obscured body.

“I’ll think about it,” you said.

“You will!”

“Maybe”.

You knew you would go, but you found pleasure in listening to him beg.

_____

The dining pavilion echoed with conflicting chatter and a vengeful distraction on Herme's table.

“Uno!” Clarisse screamed, oblivious to the trembling campers who caught her adrenaline shattering gaze.

“You can’t end the game on a colour change”, Luke enlightened her.

“Fuck you i won”.

“He’s just mad we won to capture the flag” you spoke, looking in the direction of Chris who flicked a card at your forehead.

“We felt bad for always beating you, it was more of a let”.

“Your excuses numb me Rodrigues” you mocked, reshuffling the cards which were sprawled over the table. You push each set on the wood and begin another fretting game, watching everybody’s twitching features.

Pick up two

Pick up four

“Suck it Castellan!” Clarisse shrieked, watching his slowed response.

“Just pick up baby, you aren’t always going to be on top” you teasingly spoke, leaning over and patting his hand.

“I -” he gave up on his sentence and picked up 16 cards to his already enormous hand.

You won this round, Chris next and then Clarisse again, but uno could only progress for so many rounds before it became too repetitive.

“Let’s make this interesting, the winner gets a week off chores” Chris suggested, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m in, the stables stink like ass” you said, placing your stack in the middle for Clarisse to shuffle.

“I’m down” she agreed, your boyfriend’s smile only answering your question.

Once the challenge was set the game had become theatrical; Clarisse’s screams, Luke’s laughs and both you and Chris’ unspoken glances.

As the game advances Chris’ hands grew to contain an abundance of cards, the absurd sheets all falling when Luke yelled.

“Uno hah!” the final card hit the table and you couldn’t help, but groan.

“Watch your back Castellan” Clarrisse snarled, abruptly standing up to ease her steam. “Yeah Luke, wouldn’t want anyone to hurt you” you said, kissing him on the cheek then leaving back to cabin 3, with the promise of meeting him within an hour.

The Zeus cabin was consistently desolate, the stale air defeating the little number of inhabitants. The interior was a constant reminder of the gods' disinterest in your life, the vacant bunk beds and unclaimed spaces proved that you were an anomaly, but mostly a hazard.

The empty cabin smelt of pine and leather and despite your heavy usage of perfume, the lingering scent never seemed to fade. It was almost as if it were trying to silence your existence.

There wasn't the hustle or rush in your cabin as many others had to experience, only the hum of electricity and the quiet reflection from the open sky.

Despite your initial hushed greeting, your sister brought relief to the quiet, her steady presence in your life reassuring your every move. Thalia had grown from your half sibling to becoming your chosen family, you were tied together by blood, but her fondness for you never felt transactional, she made you feel appreciated for simply living. The only adversity with your sister's company is the loose chops of hair that would float around your cabin from her irrational trims, but ignoring the material difficulties - and her slight narcissism - you loved her, you always would. So did your friends, Clarisse admired her and they shared an unspoken respect for each other, she didn’t mind Chris or Silena and Luke were hers before he was yours. She was not jealous of your relationship, but she felt that she was losing him to you, the one person she could trust to not complicate her life, taking who meant most to her.

The addition of your companions and hers meant that your docile cabin was filled with bursts of spirit once every so often, but when the sky darkened and the temperature plummeted it was just Thalia and you, her words gentle and actions soft. You were the one person who she would protect from the brutality of the world, the one person she felt vulnerable with.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?” Thalia asked, she gently hit the top of your head and moved towards the door with a bag slung over her shoulder.

“Mhm'' you agreed, watching her leave. Something that would never change would be her avoidance of goodbyes.

The air that gasped at Thalia’s departure was swiftly content with the arrival of Clarisse, your friend perched on the edge of your bed fastening a clasp of gold around her neck.

“You drinking tonight?” she asked.

“If I plan to leave with my sanity, then yes” you replied, shrugging your jacket over your top. The camp shirts were comfortable, but they didn’t exactly exude “lets get drunk and make mistakes”, so events usually held a casual attire.

She made a low hum, “I could use a break”.

“I heard Beau’s gonna be there tonight”, you plucked at an invisible string that entwined Silena and Clarisse. “I know, I heard she’s hooking up with Beckendorf”.

“Heard you finally hooked up with Rodrigues”, you teased at the new found information that she shared over a piece of toast. She threw a shoe at the back of your chair and you turned with a grin. “How is that going?”

“Yes” she mumbled.

“Yes?”

“He’s shit but he’s nice”.

“He’ll get better, they usually do” you smiled.

“Please don’t tell me you're referring to Castellan”.

“No, he was always a good shag”.

“Block my ears please”.

“You asked”.

“I did not!” she defended, swiping lipstick from your desk.

“Where do you go anyways?” you questioned, you were eager for the answer since you never found any privacy. Whether you were stealing kisses behind stone sculptures or bent over in your dark cabin you always seemed to get interupted, any mood which arose immediately decreasing.

She replied with one word “Showers”.

“You ever get caught?”

“Twice, but people learn to piss off pretty quickly”.

You caught her eye in the mirror and couldn’t help but laugh, because in a matter of moments you were immersed amongst the Dionysus cabin which held sweaty bodies and flashing lights, Clarisse leaving your side swiftly to down shots which piled up seamlessly.

On either side of the floor stood pulsating stereos that only added to the distraught atmosphere. The cabin scraped up surprisingly well from its usual mess, but the strung lights and table of drinks could not pull away from the crowds.

These parties always proved to be tedious.

Nobody could hold their liquor and the room was swarmed with drunken mistakes. Within ten minutes you had observed your friends humiliate themselves willingly and drag one another into private corners, everybody seemed eager to confess their secrets which you listened to absently, their breath laced with cheap alcohol.

Many of their vicarious actions humbling any pedestal you placed them on.

“No you listen to me, i - i know it’s dumb, but he has nice eyebrows” Silena slurred, hovering over you.

“Beau you don’t know him” you explained, trying to impede your words into her intoxicated mind.

“But I love him!” she exclaimed rather loudly.

“How about we get you back to your sisters” you suggested, setting your drink on the table beside you. You hitched her arm over your shoulders and searched for Drew who always seemed to be alert, letting her fall into her arms.

“Maybe you can stop baby sitting and enjoy yourself”.

You turned to your boyfriend, “perhaps i could if this cabin weren’t filled with idiots”.

“Are you calling me an idiot?” Luke asked as he slid his hand through yours.

“Yes”.

“You will never have fun if you don’t let yourself”.

“I never will then”.

“Not with that attitude”.

“Your personality fatigues me”, you pestered and rolled your eyes.

“Loose some layers and come dance with me” he suggested, taking a few steps towards you.

“It’s four degrees outside”.

“Not in here it’s not” he said, his fingers slipping behind the neck of your jumper and trailing down so the zip fell with each moment.

You wouldn’t admit to it, but his touch sent sparks down your spine and any excuse for him to be touching you, you would both utilise.

He leant closer and brushed his lips against your ear, placing your jacket over his arm.

“I love these little lace up tops'”, he whispered, his words fighting against the rising voice of Shakira. His hands toyed with the strings of your shirt before pulling you towards the crowd of campers whose arms were strewn above their heads.

Lucky you were born that far away so

We could both make fun of distance

You shifted weight on your feet and loosened a little to “wherever whenever”, stifling a laugh as Luke spins you around and into his arms, attempting to ease your rigor. You didn’t want to enjoy yourself, but you couldn’t help but find a steady sway in your hips as Luke guided them mindlessly, his hands on the bare skin of your back.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

Can't you see? I'm at your feet

The flashing array of lights only made it more tempting to seek out comfort in Luke’s body, the blue hue making him appear angelic which wasn't far from the truth.

Whenever, wherever

We're meant to be together

From the sheer number of people dancing your bodies were pushed together, his hands tight against your ass to keep you close. His placement was intentional so when he turned you they could travel to your hips with ease. You skimmed your body against his, his lips peppering small kisses along your neck as you pressed yourself further into him.

Lucky that my lips not only mumble

They spill kisses like a fountain

You let your head rest against him as he nips below your ear, his fingers pressing into your hips firmly, you were sure you were branded. You couldn’t help but feel completely and utterly blissful (horny is the right word) allowing his hands to turn you so you features eagerly brushed against one another.

His head drops to the space between your neck and shoulders while a hand travels up your side, one still swaying you gently. His fingers fold under the hem of your top and progress to cup your breast in his hands, his fingers pressing into the fat. It doesn’t take you long to assist his grip back to your waist, but once he hangs loosely around your middle you feel as if you know all there is to Luke Castellan, the soft curls only the start to him.

Le-do-lo-le-lo-le, le-do-lo-le-lo-le

At your feet, I'm at your feet

You didn’t care considerably for the music, but it seemed to completely cease when a hand landed on your shoulder, trying to tug you away from your boyfriend. It took little time for Luke to notice the hand and for you to turn, to only have your nerves ease when the grip belonged to Clarisse who drunkenly pulled you close to her, laughing, holding you affectionately, not caring for Luke’s groans from the loss of you.

After a few sweaty dances both you and Chris found solace in the contents of red solo cups, both attempting to empty the liquor fastest. You threw the liquor down your neck ignoring the burn, watching him mirror your movements, but even then, that didn't last too long, your body - with the assistance of Silena’s hands - were being pulled over the people who were gathered around the carpeted floor in a circle.

Chris was to your left in and you both looked for one another for an answer, but when a bottle was placed in the middle of the group by a child of Hecate, it gave you your response.

They went first, spinning the empty bottle and met a child of Hermes in the centre for a quick snog before it spun again and spun until it came in the hands of Luke.

He leant forward and breathlessly spun it swiftly. You watched it pass you and Clarisse and anybody you would be comfortable for your boyfriend to kiss until it landed on a pretty girl from the Hephaestus cabin. She smiled as she leant forward and so did Luke,

Moments before he planted a generous kiss on her lips his eyes met yours for a split second then closed. The more she explored his lips the more her hands wandered, pulling at a few curls at the nape of his neck, touring with the strands which were yours.

You could feel yourself blink and by the time they pulled away giggles slipped out of the girls lips and you felt like you were going to gag. You rolled your eyes at their persistence, but you let your gaze linger on the girl who seemed cheerful.

The glass continued to spin, people meeting in the middle numerous times until it caught at the carpet facing your knees. You looked up to the person you were soon to meet and when you did your lips tugged into a grin.

Enzo you believed his name to be, a son of Aphrodite, very renowned for his soft lips and gentle touch, that which you were eager to know. You could admire one's beauty, but you felt no need to act on your impressions, so when you could - free of charge - you would.

Enzo dark curls fell over his eyes, framing his face carefully as he neared closer to you, his lips instantly falling onto yours when his hand snaked around your neck. He moved differently - his lips that it - it was nothing like Luke. Enzo was harsh and he had no hesitation as if pouring his soul through the press, you felt like you had known him in several languages and multiple lifetimes.

The room blurred a little after you pulled away, a swift last kiss pressed to your cheek as if bidding his farewell. You smiled at his warmth and then moved to your seat, watching the already spinning bottle at the hand of Silena.

“Had fun?” Chris whispered to you, watching a daughter of Iris pull Silena into a messy snog.

“I suppose so”.

“My brother looks riveted,” he said, his tone teasing.

“When does he not” you replied, turning to his impending gaze on you.

“What” you mouthed.

“Nothing,” he mused, it wasn’t nothing, but you were too intoxicated off of your dances and a few drinks to be concerned.

When the game disbanded and were relocated it took very little to persuade you of much, so when the offer to play just dance arose you had no hesitation in amusing yourself with the game, Clarisse and Chris beside you.

Out of the humming centre lay a few old couches which are where you flickered through songs on a wii and paused at “wannabe” by the spice girls.

The first few beats of the song played and you instantly began mirroring the characters on the screen, mimicking the choreography.

You carelessly moved your body and couldn’t help, but laugh at Chris who was never graced with the ability of rhythm. You danced and allowed yourself to disregard any priorities you held, letting them drip off of you like the sweat that beaded on your lower back.

“Hey Y/n!” Clarisse yelled over the chatter and music.

“Yeah?” you responded, breathing heavily as you danced the last few moments of the song before falling against the couches behind you.

“Call me a daughter of Hermes, but I'd love to travel in your bra”.

You giggled at the joke, “call me a son-”

“Son?” “- of Poseidon, but there’s a tsunami forming between my thighs” you laughed, leaning over to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

“Call me Kronos’ but i would love to eat you up” Chris teased as he slumped next to Clarisse snaking an arm around her.

“Oh um” you stirred, thinking of a comeback.

“Maybe I am the daughter of Athena, because I would love to strategize how to open your legs,” Clarrisse slurred, making you breathless from her stupid jokes.

You leant into her side, her arms around you and Chris, she had two hands after all, but so did you, your grasp empty of Luke.

“Where’s Luke?” you said, not caring of your volume, recalling what felt missing.

“Probably moping”.

“About what?”

“Global warming i don’t know” Chris confessed, causing you to push yourself from the couch and to search for your lost boy.

Your head buzzed and your limbs ached, not particularly from movement, but lack off. You staggered through the room and allowed yourself to take your time as you lazily surveyed the following in front of you. Mist glazed your sight, so every step felt like a game of charades, hoping you would not fall against the wrong body.

“Luke” your voice croaked, pulling a hand to your mouth when a hiccup left your lips. “Luke” you repeated, your legs weak under you as you trailed through the bodies and dropped possessions.

“Need help angel?”

You were close to the door when a boy from the Apollo cabin steadied you, “I - i where’s Luke?”

“He’s outside I believe”.

“Thank you soldier” you saluted the blonde.

“You sure you’re ok getting there”.

“Impertantly” you slurred pulling away from him and using the door frame to push yourself out of the hustle with a groan. “Luke” you slurred, the last letters elongating, “hide and seek, i see”. You passively rubbed at your eye with your hand, your make up cascading across your cheek with each swipe. “It’s ok, I'm not going to eat you”.

Your words fell like your body did against a plush landing of greenery. “You’re not Luke'', you hit the grass and recoiled as shocks sent through your fingers and sparks threatened to spread against the green. “I hate you” you spat, letting the grey fog in the air drag a body towards you.

The voice spoke, but you couldn’t decipher their words, but their touch, it was one you would recognise blindly. Luke was not immune to your sparks, but found pleasure in the shocks as it proved your consciousness. He ran his hands across your sweaty forehead and did not flinch as you reached to pull yourself to him, melting in his arms.

“Let's get you to your bed hm?”

Luke indulged in alcohol but knew his limits, unlike you who drank till senseless.

“I’m not tired” you whined, morosing with the thought of your bed.

“How about a walk to take the edge off”.

“No” you denied his other request.

“What do you want then”.

“You”.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

this was sitting in my drafts and i probably will re write <3

@prettyinsatiable @daisydark @creamsweets @auttumnsayshi @ashr0 @y0urm0m12 @2hiigh2cry @niktwazny303

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagines #luke pjo #pjo x you #pjo x reader #riawrites

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