Sukuna Series - Tumblr Posts

The last night of love

( ♡ ) pairing : Basketball player!Sukuna x fem!reader

( ♡ ) warning : f!reader, NOT PROOF READ , kinda cringe, college years, sex, explicit content, toxicity, smoking, friends with benefits, a bit of angst, idk bro 😭

( ♡ ) a/n ✏️ : I feel like making a series of basketball player Sukuna because I very much miss wattpad 💔

You sat cross-legged on your dorm bed, surrounded by a mountain of textbooks and notes. The room smelled faintly of stale coffee and the sweet scent of vanilla from the candle flickering on your nightstand. You sighed and rubbed your eyes, your brain feeling like a soggy sponge. The clock on the wall ticked away the hours of the early evening, each second a gentle reminder of the impending deadlines and tests that loomed over you.

Your phone buzzed on the desk, interrupting the quiet rhythm of your study session. You leaned over, your heart fluttering slightly as you saw a message from Sukuna, the basketball team's captain. His profile picture, a fierce dunk in mid-air, filled the screen. He had never messaged you directly before, despite the numerous times you’d seen each other around campus. Your curiosity piqued, you tapped the message. It was a simple invitation to watch the upcoming game together.

Your cheeks flushed as she read his words. Sukuna was known for his cold, aloof demeanor and his tendency to keep to himself. For him to ask you out of the blue was as surprising as it was thrilling. Your mind raced with the implications of the invite. Was he just being friendly, or was there something more behind his sudden interest? You bit your lip, weighing the pros and cons of saying yes. On the one hand, it could be a chance to get to know the enigmatic basketball star better. On the other, you already heard the rumors about his reputation with the ladies.

The game night arrived, and you found yourself dressed more carefully than you had in months. You wore a fitted thank top that highlighted your curves, a sweater over it so you wouldn’t get cold and your favorite pair of baggy jeans. As you made your way to the college gym, the excitement in the air was palpable. The thump of sneakers on the wooden floor and the murmur of the eager crowd grew louder with each step you took.

You spotted Sukuna from a distance, his pink-red hair and towering figure making him impossible to miss. He was surrounded by a flock of his adoring teammates, his sharp eyes scanning the crowd.

Your eyes met, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fade away. Sukuna's gaze was intense, his red eyes seeming to pierce through your very soul. He gave you a crooked smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes, and gestured for you to join him. The crowd parted like a sea, allowing you a clear path to the star player. As you approached, you could smell the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to his clothes — a stark contrast to the freshness of the gym.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you took in the full force of his presence. His body was a testament to his dedication to the sport, muscular and inked with intricate tattoos that danced across his skin. Despite his reputation, you couldn't help but feel drawn to him, his confidence and charm an allure you hadn't encountered before. You took a deep breath and stepped into the unknown, your heart racing with a mix of nerves and excitement.

The game was intense, the air in the gym thick with the scent of sweat and the squeak of sneakers. Sukuna's team played with a fierce precision, and he was the undeniable center of attention. Each time he scoredred, the crowd erupted into a frenzy of cheers. His movements on the court were fluid and powerful, a dance of athleticism and raw talent. You found herself unable to tear your gaze away, your eyes following him as he weaved through the opposition with an ease that seemed almost supernatural.

At halftime, he made his way over to you, a towel draped around his neck, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. His smile was genuine this time, and you couldn't help but return it. He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "You're not like the others," he whispered. "I can tell." His words sent a thrill through you, and you felt a strange sense of pride.

The second half of the game was even more electrifying. The score was tight, and the tension in the air grew with every passing minute. You felt it in your chest, your knuckles white as you gripped the edge of your seat. Sukuna played like a man possessed, his eyes never leaving yours for longer than a fleeting glance. When the final buzzer rang, and his team emerged victorious, he turned to you, a look of pure triumph in his eyes.

The crowd spilled out into the hallways, and amidst the chaos, he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the celebration. His grip was firm, but not painful, his touch sending a jolt of energy through you. "Let's get out of here," he murmured, leading you out of the gym and into the cool night air. The stars above twinkled, and the sound of distant traffic was a comforting hum as you walked towards the quiet parking lot.

" [name] ," he said, stopping you in the shadow of a large oak tree. "I want to show you something." His voice was low, the vibrations of it sending a shiver down your spine. You nodded, your curiosity piqued. He led you to his car, a sleek sports model that gleamed under the moonlight. He unlocked the door with a beep, and you slid into the leather seat, feeling the thrum of the engine beneath you.

The drive was short, the silence between you filled with an electric charge. You pulled up to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of town, the headlights cutting through the darkness. He turned to you, his eyes smoldering. "Ready?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr. You nodded, your breath hitching in your throat. What were you getting yourself into?

Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, the only sound the distant echo of both of your footsteps. The walls were lined with basketball hoops and worn out graffiti. It was clear that this was where he came to practice when he wasn't playing in the glaring lights of the college gym. Sukuna took your hand again, leading you to the center of the space. He leaned in, his breath warm on your face. "This is where I come to escape," he said, his eyes searching yours for something.

The air grew heavy with anticipation as he let go of your hand, stepping back to pick up a basketball from the floor. He began to dribble, the rhythmic bounce of the ball a mesmerizing beat. With every movement, his tattoos rippled and shifted, telling a silent story of who he was beyond the cold, hard exterior. You felt a strange connection to him, as if you were seeing a side of him no one else ever had.

He passed you the ball, and you took it, the leather cool and smooth against your palm. Sukuna's gaze was intense, and you could feel his eyes on you as you took a shot. It swished through the net, a perfect arc of motion. He smirked, a hint of surprise and admiration in his expression. "You're good," he said, his voice gruff. "But not as good as me."

The challenge in his tone was clear, and you felt a competitive spark ignite within you. The two of you played one-on-one, your bodies moving in a dance of speed and power. The game grew more intense, each shot a declaration of your growing attraction. With every pass, every block, the tension between you grew stronger until it was almost palpable.

Your breaths grew ragged, the sweat on your brows mixing with the scent of the old gym. Sukuna's eyes never left yours, and you could feel his gaze like a physical touch. When you finally scored the winning basket, you dropped the ball and stepped back, panting. He approached you, his movements predatory, the air crackling with energy.

"You're different," he murmured, reaching out to trace your jawline with his thumb. "I want to know more." His voice was low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew what he was asking for, and a part of you was terrified. But the thrill, the excitement, was too much to resist. You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding. "Show me," you whispered.

Their kiss was explosive, a culmination of the tension that had been building since the moment you had met. His hands were everywhere, exploring your body as if he owned it. And you didn't stop him. His touch was intoxicating, his strength and dominance a heady cocktail you hadn't realized you craved. As you broke away, gasping for air, you could see the desire in his eyes, a mirror to your own.

Sukuna's hands took pulled off your sweater, and it fell off your shoulders down to the floor. Then his found the hem of your top, and he began to tug it upwards. You raised your arms, allowing him to peel it away from your body. The cool air kissed your bare skin, and you shivered as his eyes raked over you. His gaze lingered on your chest, a smug satisfaction playing on his lips. He leaned in, his mouth tracing a line of fire down your neck, and you gasped as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin.

The world outside the warehouse ceased to exist. All that mattered was the heat of his touch, the taste of him on your lips. He was a storm, and you were willing to get swept away.

Without a word, he picked you up, his arms like steel bands around your waist. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you to a mat he had laid out earlier, his intentions clear. The anticipation was unbearable, your body thrumming with need.

As he laid you down, the mat cool beneath you, you knew you were crossing a line. But you didn't care. Not with the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Their clothes fell away, piece by piece, until all that remained was skin on skin. Sukuna hovered above you, his tattoos stark against the moonlight streaming in through the dusty windows. He was beautiful, terrifying, and utterly irresistible. His hands traced your curves, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and you arched into his touch, craving more.

He kissed you deeply, his tongue delving into your mouth as if seeking a hidden treasure. His hands roamed further, cupping your breasts with a possessive hunger that made you moan. Your own hands explored the planes of his muscular back, feeling the power coiled beneath the ink.

You felt your body responding to his touch, your core pulsing with desire. Your reached down, your fingertips brushing against his hard length. He hissed through his teeth, his hips jerking in response. The sound of zippers and fabric hitting the floor filled the quiet space. The anticipation was agonizing, a sweet torment that made you ache for him.

Sukuna's eyes never left yours as he positioned himself between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the promise of pleasure that awaited. With a deliberate slowness, he pushed into you, filling her completely. You gasped, your eyes rolling back in your head as you took in the sensation of him inside you. He was thick, stretching you in the most delicious way.

Your bodies moved in a rhythm as old as time itself, a dance of passion and power. He was relentless, his strokes deep and sure, each one sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. You clung to him, your nails digging into his back, urging him deeper. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the moment.

Your orgasm built slowly, like a crescendo in a symphony. You could feel it coming, the tension coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. And when it finally broke, it was like a dam bursting. You cried out, your body convulsing around him, the pleasure so intense it was almost painful.

Sukuna groaned, his own climax following shortly after. He collapsed on top of you, his weight a comforting presence as you both panted for breath. The world spun around you, a dizzying kaleidoscope of colors and emotions.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, with a chuckle, he pulled away and lay beside you, one hand resting on your hip. "You're mine now," he murmured, his voice a dark whisper in the night. The words sent a thrill through you, a mix of excitement and trepidation.

You looked at him, your heart racing. What had you just done? Sukuna was notorious for his conquests, leaving a trail of broken hearts in his wake. But as you stared into his red eyes, you knew you didn't care. Tonight, you had been claimed by the basketball star, and you felt more alive than you had in years.

Your bodies were slick with sweat, your breathing still ragged. You lay there, entwined, basking in the afterglow of your encounter. It was a moment of pure, unbridled passion that neither of you wanted to end. But as the reality of their situation began to sink in, you couldn't shake the feeling that you had just entered a game you didn't fully understand the rules to.

Sukuna reached for a cigarette, lighting it with a flick of his lighter. He took a deep drag, the embers glowing red in the darkness. He offered you one, and you took it, the bitter taste a strange comfort as you sat up, feeling the cool air on your bare skin. You took a drag, the nicotine hitting your lungs like a punch.

"So, what happens now?" you asked, your voice a little shaky.

He took his time, blowing out a plume of smoke before answering. "Now," he said, "the real game begins." And with that, he leaned in and kissed you again, leaving you with more questions than answers. But for now, you were content to let the mystery unfold, one steamy encounter at a time.

Your nights grew into a pattern of passion and power plays. After each victory on the court, Sukuna would claim your body in his own private games, pushing you to new heights of pleasure you had never dreamed possible. You found yourself craving the thrill of his touch, the way he made you feel alive and desired. In the quiet moments, you would trace the intricate designs of his tattoos, each line a story of his pain and triumph.

Your encounters were raw and uninhibited, a delicious blend of lust and dominance. You had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet you reveled in it. With every touch, every whispered word, you gave him more of yourself, and in return, you took more of him. You were two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly, creating a picture of desire that no one else could understand.

But outside the warehouse, your lives remained the same. He was the untouchable star, and you were the sweet girl next door. You kept your secret hidden, the only evidence of your trysts the lingering scent of his cologne on your clothes and the faint marks his hands left on your skin. It was a thrilling game of cat and mouse, and you were surprised at how much you enjoyed playing it.

But as the weeks turned into months, the cracks began to show. You found yourself falling for the man behind the tattoos and the arrogant smirk. The one who whispered sweet nothings in your ear and held you close in the aftermath of your passion. But you knew that in his world, love was a luxury he couldn't afford, a weakness to be exploited.

The tension grew, each encounter more intense than the last. You could feel the storm brewing beneath the surface, the inevitable collision of your worlds. And when it finally hit, you weren’t sure if you were ready for the fallout.

One night, as you lay tangled together, his heart hammering against yours, you looked into his eyes and whispered, "What are we?" His smile was sad, a knowing look in his eyes that told you more than words ever could. "We're a secret," he said, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. "And secrets have a way of coming out."

Your heart sank, but you didn't argue. Instead, you kissed him, your body speaking for you. You knew that you were playing with fire, but you couldn't help but want to be burned by his flames. And so, the dance continued, each step fraught with the danger of discovery and the sweet agony of desire.

Your worlds were destined to collide, and when they did, it would be explosive. But for now, you were content to live in the shadows of his love, basking in the warmth of his touch and the promise of passion that awaited you every time he called your name.