#thread: hot chocolate

[nxttheendxfthestxry]

"I'm not good at hot chocolate. But chocolate in boiled milk is chocolate in boiled milk." Lyssa gestured to the three mugs on the counter. "Uh... yeah. Cinnamon is in the cupboard, whipped cream is in the fridge, marshmallows are in the bowl."

Fabian grins at Lyssa, chuckling at what she says and gently sitting Irene in a chair, nodding as he goes to get everything she'd mentioned. "I do appreciate this more than you know."

Irene immediately hops back down and goes to Lyssa, reaching up and tugging lightly on her shirt. "I saved this one for you!" She holds up a sucker she'd managed to snag out of her trick-or-treating bag when papa had sent Mariana home with it.

[arobinwithoutbatman]

@the-mocking-robin continued from [x]

Tim blinked as he handed the ingredients. Now, he wasn't the best at reading facial expressions and body language especially when he wasn't being Robin as Robin required him to be paying close attention to every tiny little detail, but Jason looked... tired. Really tired. Hm.

He's not really sure what to do about it so he's gonna leave that for the more emotionally competent in the family... AKA Dick.

"Nah, I picked up my favourite chilli chocolate cookies on the way for that kind of spicy kick. Can't have hot chocolate without cookies, it's practically illegal."

[lampllghter]

tags.

[crushmeeren]

omg but imagine secretly giving the mha boys aphrodisiac chocolate and seeing how they react..

No but you’re RIGHT…. ( ੭ ˙ᗜ˙ )੭

𝛏 Master List Link 𝛏

Katsuki would stare at you with narrowed eyes when you hold your hand out and offer the piece of chocolate to him, your gaze wide and innocent until he pops the candy in his mouth.

Katsuki would be in a meeting not too long after, jaw clenched and teeth creaking when his uniform pants get too fucking snug for no reason. His cheeks will flush bubblegum pink, biting the head off of some hero he can’t remember the name of when asked what’s wrong.

Why the fuck can he only picture you face down and ass up in the air?

Why does he have to sink his nails into his thighs to hang onto his last thread of self control and restrain himself from palming his stiff cock when he thinks of your pussy split open for him?

Why the hell is sweat running down his temples and along his jaw like a goddamn river??

He doesn’t know.

What he is certain of, is his plan to tackle you to the bed as soon as he gets home. To cum the second he slides his achy cock inside your tight pussy, and then to fuck you until neither of you can stand to climax one more time.

Eijirou would happily accept the chocolate, humming in delight once he begins chewing.

Eijirou would then be relaxing with you on the couch, using every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the movie you’re watching together. His cheeks would turn as scarlet as his hair and he’d try to hide his face with the loose strands when you glance at him.

He’d squeak out that’s he’s fine when you ask if he’s feeling feverish. He’ll clumsily cover his cock with large hands, knees knocking into one another when he tries to close his legs.

Eijirou would whimper in your ear “fuck, I’m sorry baby, I need your pussy. I can’t stop myself,” as he gives in to the heat churning in his belly and bends you over the armrest of your couch to fuck you like a dog.

You’ll babble and gasp it’s okay, crying out his name when he makes you orgasm for what feels like the hundredth time — only for his dick to remain hot and full after he’s already cum inside you so much that you’re sure you’re going to get pregnant.

Shouto would take a bit more convincing. He doesn’t ordinarily eat chocolate, but he’s willing to try it if you’re the one presenting it to him.

Shouto would be leisurely walking alongside you in the grocery store, occasionally making noises of agreement as you tell him about your day.

Shouto would suddenly freeze mid stride, becoming rigid in the middle of the aisle. He’ll blink owlish eyes at you several times when you turn back to question what he’s doing.

You’ll snap your fingers to get his attention when he starts to stare at the swell of your tits for way too long instead of listening to you, cheeks filling out with a blush when he meets your gaze.

The next thing you know, your half full grocery cart is abandoned in the aisle and you’re yanked by the wrist back to your car in the parking lot.

Shouto would mutter breathlessly “sorry baby, I can’t seem to control myself,” when he gets your pants off, leaving the material to dangle from one ankle before tugging you down to straddle his lap in the backseat.

He’ll unbutton his pants and shove them down far enough to free himself, not bothering with your panties and sliding them to the side as he sits you down on his cock and let’s out a low moan.

Shouto will match your every move, thrusting upwards harshly each time you sit down. He won’t give a single fuck if someone walks past the car, he just knows he needs your pussy to keep swallowing his cock until the insatiable burn in his lower belly subsides.

It takes…awhile.

[goldenstring6123]

hello ! wanted to say i really love your writing style and your stories for the characters ! I wanted to know if you’d write one for Love and deep space Sylus? A scenario where you’re both sleeping but you sneak away quietly to get something from the kitchen or for whatever reason but he stops you with his powers (the handcuffs etc) to bring you back to bed. I’m not sure if i’m making sense but something along those lines! please and thank you!

Sylus: Kitchen Sneaker

Warning: No warning. Fem!reader, domestic fluff (?)

Author's note: This is a fun domestic-ish prompt to write! I hope you like it my dear pookies <3

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Sylus was fast asleep beside you.

The man was a light sleeper for the sake of his own safety. According to him, even if the building was as secure as it could be, there were some instances where he woke up with a knife to his throat. However, ever since you began sharing the same bed, he had been sleeping like a log, which was good for him and the twins because they no longer had to deal with his hot head so early in the evening.

But it was bad for you. Simply because Sylus likes to hold you in his sleep. Sometimes his hand would be over your chest, groping your breast or squeezing in between your boobs, but most times, he would be holding your wrist, checking your pulse. How was this bad for you? Well, living alone for most of your adult life, you liked to indulge yourself in a midnight snack or two. With him holding you captive to the bed, his iron grip holding on to you, it was like you had a ball and chain around your body.

You've indulged Sylus for over a week now, but the intense midnight craving is overwhelming.

Tonight, it's food over Sylus. The man can wait. Food cannot.

You scooted his hand very, very, very gently away from your body. This man's hand is heavy and large. Sylus didn't move and continued to sleep peacefully, his exposed chest rising and falling calmly. The room was very cold, and you could even hear the blowing of the AC; it was at that moment that you realized how such small sounds seemed to be so loud at night.

With every step you take, you are holding your breath even more. Even against the carpet, the rustling of your feet seemed like it could stir Sylus awake at any second. Thankfully, you managed to traverse across the room like a spy. You even had to carefully close the door shut.

You used the stairs to get down to the kitchen, and while you were walking in the hallway, the chef was just about to leave, his satchel bag on his shoulder.

He and you made eye contact. You gestured to him to 'shush,' and he laughed.

"There's some leftover dessert and pasta in the fridge—feel free to eat it," he whispered, and you grinned, giving him a thumbs up. Greg is the best chef ever. You tiptoed to the kitchen, waving him goodbye. Your eyes landed on that double-door fridge that was whirring loudly.

Finally! You could taste that delicious panna cotta and aglio olio in your mouth. Your hands wrapped around the handle of the fridge, and as you tugged, the bright blue light of the fridge lit up your face.

You took the plate and settled it on the stainless steel counter. The next one was the small glass filled with chocolate and cream. You marveled at its delicate, savory look. You took a spoon from the nearby utensil holder and dug it into the soft texture, eager to get a taste.

Before it could land between your lips—

A cold whirlwind of black, scentless smoke wrapped around the fork. It flung out of your grasp, and before you could let out a peep, you, too, were flung away from the kitchen counter.

The man let out a grunt, his eyes low-lidded and foggy, clearly just woken up from his slumber.

"Pray tell," he gruffed, his voice an octave lower. "What are you doing in the kitchen? You're supposed to be in bed." Sylus let out a sigh while he brought you closer to him. He glanced behind you and saw the unopened plate of pasta and panna cotta.

"Never mind. You don't need to speak."

"I'm hungry! Don't you know you shouldn't get between a woman and her food?" you exclaimed while tugging at the thing around your exposed waist. You thrashed and thrashed, the straps of your nightshirt sliding down your shoulders. "Put me down and go back to bed! I'll be with you in five—no, fifteen minutes!"

His head was aching from all the noise you were making, and combined with the fact that you were out of bed by the time he woke up—to Sylus, it seemed like you were testing his patience. "Did you not eat enough during dinner time? You know you could've asked for second servings."

"I get midnight cravings on occasion, but when I'm sleeping over, you tend to weigh me down in bed," you explained, flailing your legs, which were a few feet off the ground.

"So, you're blaming me now?" Sylus raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. Of course, you were. It wasn't your fault you couldn't get out of bed, and it wasn't your fault that the chef made great food and desserts. He didn't like the look on your face but, regardless, put you down to the floor, his hand tugging your strap over your shoulders. His red eyes glazed over your bare chest, but he turned away, walking to that lonely plate of pasta.

"We're going back to sleep after you have your fill." Sylus unwrapped the plate and took a fork, twirling it and taking a bite. The oily, mild tinge of spiciness and Parmesan helped push him awake. He won't deny that the chef was good at his job—it was even enough for you to sneak out of his bed.

You mounted yourself onto the kitchen island, the cold marble surface cooling the bottom of your thigh. You took the panna cotta, and finally, the creamy and sweet flavor of chocolate and cream exploded in your mouth. Unconsciously, you nodded in approval of the taste.

Quietly, you ate in each other's company, occasionally making small talk. Sylus left the dish in the sink along with the fork, but when he turned to you, your nose was inside the refrigerator again. "Cake roll slice…" you uttered. The strawberry cake roll looked delicious inside the glass container.

Before you could even reach out to it, the smoke appeared at the very same spot, dragging you away from the fridge. Sylus closed the double-door refrigerator and crossed his arms right in front of you. A clear 'no' was plastered all over his face.

You let out a groan as he dragged you away with the smoky black and red rope around your waist.

When you got back to the bedroom, you expected Sylus to go right back to sleep. But instead, the man pulled a handcuff from underneath his pillow. How and why it was, there was a question you didn't want to ask him. Without another word coming out of his mouth, he chained it to himself and took hold of your wrist.

"No. You're not going to—"

He latched the real handcuff around your wrists and laid down on the bed, dragging you with him.

"Sleep."

The lights dimmed and flickered off at his word, and you just lay there, staring up at the canopy.

"I guess this is our bedtime routine now," you sighed.

"Sleep," he reiterated.

You seriously have no idea how you put up with this man.

Author footnotes: I also like to sneak out to the kitchen and eat but instead of sylus, It's my mom who sees me and then i get the clothes hanger beat up for staying up late at night lol.

Layout by me, using Canva premium | Do not repost |

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE ONESHOT- We Aren’t Over

VOTERS RESULT FROM MY POLL<3 XOXO ENJOY

Info: FWB gets jealous seeing you kiss another guy at a party after the two of you had called things off.

Word count: 4.5k

Tags: 18+, PURE SMUT, PIV, FWB, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink, Begging, Teasing, Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Good Sex

"You look so fucking sexy..."

large hands belonging to an admittedly handsome Ravenclaw student that you failed to acquire the name of gripped your hips; firmly pulling you against his tall body as his lips grazed your ear, hot whiskey breath washing over you, intoxicating you even further than you already were.

One hand slid around to your ass, gripping a palmful of the plump flesh over the fabric of your Slytherin uniform skirt. Your breath hitched in your throat as he nipped your earlobe, teeth tugging gently on your emerald earring, his voice a low reverberation down your spine.

"I'd love to rip that awful fucking uniform off of you and get a taste of what you're hiding under there..."

Your cheeks burned, warmth flooding you as you chewed on your lip, bringing your mouth toward his own ear now as the two of you could hardly hear yourselves think amidst the blaring music coming from the speakers in the out-of-control Friday night Slytherin party, green flashing lights blurring your vision further than the alcohol was as you squinted to try and get a better glimpse of his face.

In your intoxicated state, you couldn't recognize this guy for the life of you. The only thing that gave away his Ravenclaw status was his uniform.

"I'd be careful with your next words there, little Raven," you purred, your unsteady fingers finding his shoulders. "I promise you, you'll regret coming into my house and disrespecting my emblem like that..."

Gods, you were fucking hammered, but since you and your friends-with-benefits had called things off last weekend; you'd been desperate to find someone new to hopefully satisfy you just as well as he did--but admittedly, your hopes were low.

Not many boys knew your body like the back of their hand, or knew exactly how to drive you sexually insane, the way Mattheo fucking Riddle did.

"Is that so?" His grip on your body tightened, a deep groan leaving his throat as he pressed his lips to your jaw. "I'm not quite sure a poor little serpent like you is any match for a big bad raven like me..."

"You'd be surprised," you retorted, slowly threading your fingers through his thick brown hair. "It's been proven that even the most intelligent birds couldn't elude the cunning serpent's snare..." you tilted your head, smirking. "But go on, underestimate me...that'll be fun."

His eyes widened, the darkness inside his pupils boring into you, drowning you in their endless voids. Your stomach twisted as your sight locked in with his, and you took a moment to analyze his features a little better. Gods, he looked so fucking much like Mattheo.

Why was it that you could never seem to get that fucking guy out of your head?

You were convinced that you were going to die one day with his gorgeous fucking face still haunting you--those dark penetrating eyes, that devilish, seductive smirk--that messy mop of chocolate curls that sat effortlessly adorable over his forehead. Fuck, you hated him.

You hated him for fucking you so good you couldn't stop fucking thinking about him; even after the endless bickering and arguing the two of you had been going through over the last few weeks, causing a consensual end to your hookups--you hated him for occupying your mind even while you were pressed up against an undeniably sexy new guy, who clearly had a deep interest in you, who clearly wanted to fuck you until your legs gave out.

You should be happy right now, you should be overly fucking ecstatic, practically brimming with relief as the Ravenclaw guy leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and capturing your mouth in a sloppy, intoxicated kiss; his tongue slipping past your teeth as his hands gripped your ass with enough force to bruise--you should be completely fucking overjoyed as your lids fluttered shut, your mouths working over the others with a little too much desperation as you stood in the middle of the crowded common room, fervent fingers gripping onto each other as though your lives depended on it.

You should be happy, but you're not.

When you broke the kiss, the Ravenclaws brows furrowed, but before he had a chance to ask you to his dorm, and in a hopeful attempt at subtly saving yourself, you brought your lips toward his ear, trying to sound as sexy and inconspicuous as possible. "Why don't you get us some drinks?"

When he smirked, nodding in agreement, he graced your ass with one last squeeze before he spun around, making his way across the room and heading toward the bar station. You watched him as he went, and as soon as he had disappeared within the sea of inebriated bodies; you let out a long, exasperated breath; spinning on your heel to quickly make your way to the bathroom and away from that spot before he returned.

Sure, you felt bad for ditching him like that, but he was just as drunk as you were. He'd forget you even existed by the morning.

As you shoved your way through the endless amounts of drunk, sweaty bodies, you'd almost successfully broke through the crowd when a strong, firm grip wrapped around your wrist; hot breath washing over your neck as a tall body pressed against your backside--a height so towering and presence so intoxicating you already knew, without hearing his voice or seeing his face, that it could only be one fucking man.

"Where you headed, princess?" Mattheo's deep, husky drawl rolled through your eardrums like honey; a slow, thick, and admittedly fucking seductive pitch. "You're not really going to ditch that poor bastard after getting him going like that, are you?"

You turned your head, trying to glimpse him over your shoulder, fighting to hide your smirk. "I don't see how that's any of your business, Riddle."

"Ouch...one week without my cock and we're already back to second name basis, huh?" His grip tightened, his body heat enveloping you, his plush lips pressed tight against your ear. "I'm just surprised...you looked like you were enjoying yourself."

"Stalking me, are you?" You scoffed, trying to pry your wrist from his hold but he tightened his grip even further, other hand snaking around to your hip. "Is the big heartless Riddle boy jealous?"

He chuckled, and you could almost see the smirk on his lips. The feeling of his chest rumbling against your back did inexplicable things to your cunt. Gods, you hated how you were already fucking melting for him and you haven't even taken one single look at his face.

"Were you thinking about me?" He purred, teeth nipping at your ear, the arrogance in his tone igniting flames in your veins. "When his tongue was halfway down your fucking throat, were you wishing it was mine?"

"Give me a break, Mattheo." Your head was spinning, oxygen evaporating; but you knew you needed to play it off. "Don't fucking flatter yourself."

"You know you love the things I fucking did to you..." by this point his voice was a low growl, his tone so deep and dark in your ear it sent shudders skittering down your spine. "You know you'll search for me in every single sad sack you try to distract yourself with."

Heat flashed your face, his fingers digging into your hip with enough force to bruise. "Jealous of a Ravenclaw...must be a tough pill to swallow for the Slytherin prince-"

When his teeth sunk into your earlobe with enough force to basically tell you to shut up without actually saying it, you yelped--eyes fluttering shut as he tugged you back against him with added force.

"Keep talking, princess, and I won't hesitate to walk over there and rearrange his fucking face..." he spat the words through barred teeth, your bones shaking with the deep vibration. "Do you even know his name? Huh? Do you even know who the fuck he is?"

Gods, you were cursing yourself. As if you were about to fold for this man after he'd basically told you to fuck off and leave him alone no less than a week ago. Your brain knew, above all else, that what you were about to do was completely fucking wrong--but your cunt paid no mind to your brains protests. Your cunt wanted Mattheo Riddle.

"No, Matty, I don't..." you whispered, tilting your head to give him better access to you neck. "Lots of night left, though...I'm sure I'll be quite familiar with it when I'm screaming-"

He sunk his teeth into your neck now, forcing a sharp squeal from your lips--another commanding gesture to silently warn you that if you kept talking, he was going to fucking lose it. Part of you hoped he would.

"What have I told you about saying my fucking name like that, princess..." he growled, licking a flat strip up the side of your throat. Fuck, you loved that tongue. That skilled, tentative fucking tongue. "And if you keep talking like that, the only thing you'll be screaming is for me to stop when I'm beating his fucking face into the floor..."

His words made you fucking shudder, a full body tremor against his built chest, entirely unable to control yourself now. The need between your thighs was becoming more insistent by the second, and at this point--you were at a complete loss for words; your lips involuntarily uttering the one word you knew you'd never forget how to say, regardless of how speechless you were.

His name. "Mattheo..."

"There she is..." he murmured, the praise in his tone making your breath hitch in your lungs. "Aren't you glad you met me? I know you got me stuck inside your memory..."

Long fingers slipped under the fabric of your shirt, grazing over your stomach. Bodies were everywhere, drunk students around you paying absolutely no mind to the intoxicated sins the two of you were about to commit.

"No," you uttered, so quiet you weren't even sure if he'd heard it. "I want you out of my fucking head..."

He purred in satisfaction, revelling in the fact you'd finally admitted to missing him. "Should've listened to me, princess...told you I was bad for you..."

More heat swarmed you, your thighs screaming; begging in need. "We can't keep doing this...it's so wrong, Matty..."

"But it feels so right, doesn't it?" His hand around your wrist snuck down to your hip, his other pressed against your stomach; pulling you tighter against his crotch--your breath evaporated when you felt his aggressive bulge against your ass. "Feel that, princess? That's what you fucking do to me..."

He pressed his lips to your pulse, teeth softly grazing over it, and you mewled; head falling back against his shoulder, body melting into his own--surrendering yourself to his intoxicating dominance just as you've done time and time before.

"I hate myself for letting you do this to me..." you breathed, head rolling to the side as his teeth worked purple possession marks into your skin. "I'm so stupid for you..."

"That's it, admit it, baby...admit that you missed this..." his grip tightened, tone thickened with lust. "You're my little devil, you know I'd sin for you..."

At his words, your entire body ignited into pure fucking flame, magma replacing the blood that flowed through your veins; threatening to melt your uniform and leaving you in nothing more than a pile of ash at his feet. You were done talking, you needed his fucking cock.

"Are we gonna quit the talking and do something about it then, hm?" You purred, tilting your head back to meet his eyes for the first time; your head spinning as you drowned in the dark hurricane of their desire. "Show me how you'd sin for me, Matty..."

"I'll show you, baby, I'll fucking show you..." he said, wetting his lips as he held your stare. "Your dorm or mine?"

Music to your fucking ears. "Yours."

Without another word, Mattheo gripped your wrist, his hold like a snake, slithering around you gently at first; slowly increasing its pressure until he'd cut the blood flow, threatening suffocation of your lungs and leaving you with only hungry, primal desire--eradicating all thoughts of just how horrible of an idea you knew this was. He dragged you out of the common room and toward his dorm, not sparing you a single glance as he ripped open the door and pulled you inside; slamming your back up against it as it closed, one hand snaking toward the lock and clicking it tight into place.

When he paused, two hands finding residence against the wood on either side of your head; not moving, only staring, it was as though the rest of the world faded away--and all that was left was the cunning, messy brown haired boy in front of you. His presence filled the room, suffocating you, stopping your heart mid-beat. He loomed over you, toes centimeters from your own, chest so close that you both would touch with a deep enough breath.

You scanned his body, heart pounding, palms sweating from the impending reality of your desire, and he smirked, leaning closer.

"I don't think I can allow another man to lay a fucking finger on you ever again..." he whispered. "I don't think that perfect fucking pussy can belong to anyone fucking else."

"Since when did it belong to you, Matty?" You shuddered, deciding to test him a bit. "I thought we were just casual-"

"You think anyone else could fuck you stupid like I do?" You could practically feel his fingernails digging into the wood beside your head, the anger building in his eyes. "How about your exes? How'd they fuck you, huh?"

Your throat tightened. "Mattheo-"

"Say it." He growled, leaning closer--so close your noses brushed. "You want me to make you fucking cum, princess? Say that little pussy is mine."

Gods, curse your fucking insatiable need to get fucked. At this point, you were fully cognizant of the fact that this man could make you say damned-near anything if it meant he'd get inside you. Swallowing your ego, you met his stare--as intense as it had ever felt--and licked your lips.

"It's yours, Matty..." you murmured. "It's all yours."

Mattheo Riddle smirked. "That's fucking right."

Unable to decide between indignant and patronized, you eschewed both, and instead opted to hook your fingers into his belt, pulling yourself into him while you boosted yourself on your tiptoes to meet his lips with your own. Your kiss was hungry and demanding as you sought to memorize his mouth with your tongue. Mattheo's large hands cupped your face, fingers delving into your hair while he pressed into you, forcing you back tighter against the door.

You groaned against his lips, writhing underneath him while you slid your tongue along his teeth, seeking to know every part of him, needing him to want you--to fucking need you like you needed him. Mattheo drew in a breath through his nose and pushed deeper, like he wanted to fuse you with the door, and your hands shot into his hair, a shiver running through you as you felt how soft, how luxurious it was between your fingers.

Another soft groan rumbled in your chest, and--having distant, fuzzy deja vu of the countless encounters prior--you wrapped the curly tendrils of his hair around your fingers and yanked it.

At that, a deep moan left his throat, and he pulled back, waves of harsh breath crashing over him. His blackened eyes darted across your face, switching between your lips and eyes. "Fucking naughty little thing..." he huffed, smirking.

"For you, always," you murmured, and he groaned, wetting his lips as he leaned closer.

"Fuck-that's right...I love it when you're bad...you only act this way for me, huh?" His voice was a low purr, warm breath crashing your face. "That why you didn't fuck him? That why you ran?"

Chewing your lip, you nodded, and tugged his hair again, bringing him to your mouth once more.

He smirked against you and his hands fell to your hips, roaming the swell of your curves before gripping the underside of your thighs and hiking you onto the door. Immediately, the aching length in his pants ground into your center while his tongue fought its way into your mouth. Without you having to think, your legs circled him, and your hips were grinding back, pursuing any friction and heat you could find.

You peeled away to catch a breath, hands resting in his hair, and his lips went to work on your neck, suckling and nibbling the skin there.

"Matty...please..." you murmured, already begging for something, anything. "I need you."

Snuffing a groan, Mattheos grip bruised your hips as he bucked into you, grinding you against the door.

"You want me to fuck you, slut?" he said, breath hot on your neck. "Didn't get enough of my cock last time?"

"No-fuck-I didn't," you mewled, a slight embarrassment washing over you. "It's never enough."

Mattheo growled, his grip hardening to iron, and he licked a warm, wet line along your pulse. "That's right...that's what I like to hear..."

Sinking his teeth into your neck, he pushed off the door, walking over toward his bed as he held you against his chest. You watched the door get further and further away, lust building and growing in your chest as he nipped your jawline before grazing his lips over yours again, softly and briefly as he reached the edge of his mattress and laid you back against it.

When you hit the bed, he kept his mouth on yours while his hands left your waist; fervent fingers finding the fabric of your button up blouse and untucking it from your skirt, cold hands slipping underneath and groping your tits through your bra--a deep groan leaving his chest as you bucked your hips up against his crotch; wanting him closer, needing him closer.

His hands slid back down, finding the hem of your skirt and flipping it up your stomach, wasting zero fucking time before he hooked his thumbs around the band of your thong and peeled them down your thighs. The minute you were exposed, you heard the clatter of his belt buckle hitting the floor, and your pussy throbbed.

"Matty..."

Mattheo chuckled, the weight of his stare resting on your naked pussy; wallowing in your clear desperation for him.

"Look at you," he murmured. "So fucking wet." He released a long breath--he was testing his own patience, now. "This perfect body can't help but to crave me..."

You groaned as he teased your inner thigh with one hand, the other working to peel his shirt off his torso in one swift movement--exposing his hard, firm fucking abs and leaving him looming before you in just black briefs--looking as delicious and sexy as you've ever goddamn seen him.

As his long fingers ghosted over your folds, you arched, groaning when he brushed past it toward the inside of your other thigh; squirming in slight frustration, admittedly the teasing was absolutely getting to you now.

"Mattheo, I swear to-"

A firm, sharp smack to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh stopped the words in your throat; your stomach twisted as you watched Mattheo's eyes darken and lips curl sadistically.

"Is that how I taught you to ask for what you want?" He sneered, wetting his lips as he met your pleading eyes. "You know what I want to hear, princess."

You winced, swallowing your pride furthermore, until it was eroding in your stomach acid. "Please, Matty...please make me cum..."

His lips parted. "Good girl.”

His hum of approval was followed by the warm kiss of his fingertips along the sensitive lips of your pussy, feathersoft at first, and then one thick finger slipped between your folds, gliding between them, slicking itself with your wetness and grazing the swollen nub of your clit. That did it--blinded with relief, you cracked, moaning deep in your chest. Blood flushed your face, tingling your cheeks.

"You like that?" He brushed the bundle of nerves again, earning another shuddered groan. "You like the way I touch you? The way that pretty pussy responds to me?"

"Yes...Gods, yes..." you replied, the sentence coming without thought.

"That's right..." his free hand wrapped around the back of your thigh, tugging you closer to the edge of the bed, fingers swirling around your clit in tight circles, and you gasped, your mouth dropping in bliss, your rapid panting filling the steamy air.

"Fuck you're so sexy, my dirty little whore in her short little uniform skirt..." a stifled groan cut through his throat, and you shot a glance at him; one hand rubbing his strained erection through his boxers. "It took everything I had not to bend you over the fucking desk in class all week...fuck you know how to test me..."

You cried out, your pussy clenching, craving to be filled by him. "Matty, fuck-please..."

"Please what?" He growled.

Gods, curse him--curse him to bloody hell. You couldn't fucking handle this anymore. You knew he was punishing you, making you fucking beg and shatter and cry for it after what you'd done; and the way his fingers stroked your clit had you spasming, jerking--so close to cumming, you just wanted him inside you.

"Please." You banished all pride and ego and fucking common sense to the perimeter of your mind. Asylum. Just this once. "Please, fuck me...please."

"Tell me I'm the only one." He hissed, slipping a finger inside your wet, throbbing core; your back arching off the mattress as his thumb increased its pace on your clit. "Tell me you'll never let another man put his fucking hands on what's mine."

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. Your response was pieced together by the efforts of your need for release alone.

"Fuck-no, never, Matty...I'm yours...all fucking yours..."

He was staring at you, face blank, surveying you while you twitched and jerked underneath his ministrations. His focus switched between your pussy--desperately throbbing and melting against his touch--and your red, sweating face, jaw slack from your haze of pleasure. You chewed your lip--it was bruised by now, certainly--clenching hard, and he groaned, pulling his boxers down to let his thick, needy cock spring free.

"Cum for me, slut." He ordered. "Cum for me right fucking now."

As if controlled by a remote in his hands, a tidal wave of euphoria slammed into you, walls pulsing, body wracked with the convulsions of an aggressively pent up orgasm, vision whiting out as you threw your head back, a loud string of unintelligible curses flying from you. Mattheo hummed, hand working you to the end of your orgasm as his free one slowly stroked his cock, watching every tiny ministration of your face with an exasperated expression until he was certain you were past it.

And when he was, he wasted no fucking time before he gripped your ankles in his hands, staring down at you as he began to rock his hips; his hard, throbbing dick sliding between your slit.

"Tell me you want it," he purred. "Beg for it."

You groaned. "Please, I want it Matty…I want you so fucking bad."

With a goddamn suffocatingly arrogant and devilish grin, he braced himself as he sunk into your pussy; your wet walls swallowing his cock with ease as you let loose a long, satisfied moan--Mattheo sucked a breath in through his bared teeth as sheathed himself all the way inside your cunt, pausing there to feel you clench and adjust around him.

"So fuckin' tight..." he groaned, head bowing. "Fuck you feel so good around me."

Your eyes squeezed shut, your fingers finding Mattheo's hands until he gathered both of your wrists and pinned them above your head with just one of his, leaning over you to fuck you deep and hard as his free hand snuck down to your clit. Throttled cries of pleasure were leaking from you, your conscious slipping from reality as he pummelled your pussy like you deserved the pain.

"Fuck, yes," you practically screamed. "You fuck me so good Matty...so deep, fuck-" 

A deep snarl roared from Mattheo's chest, his grip on your wrists tightening while he fucked you deeper, harder, your body rocking from the power of his thrusts. You could feel his ragged breath on your face, knew without seeing him that he was above you, lips parted, pupils blown.

"Look at me," he growled. "Let me see those eyes as you fucking cum for me."

Groaning, you obeyed, lids fluttering open to meet his gaze. Mattheo was possessed, looking past you, through you, panting with every snap of his hips. You lost yourself in his stare, the rest of the room falling away, and his fingers moved faster over your clit, bringing you to that precipice once more. Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you imploded. Mattheo watched you, not even blinking once.

You thought you kept your eyes open, but you weren't sure, because you whited out, spasming and convulsing as your orgasm wracked your every cell, your every nerve, taking you to a height you'd never been to, never thought existed. Distantly, you were aware of your cunt drawing out Mattheo's climax as he cursed and dug his teeth into your shoulder, fucking you harder as he spilled himself deep inside of you.

You hadn't realized what had happened until your spirit returned to your body and you felt the burn of hot, wet tears streaming down your cheeks--evidence of your relief--followed by Mattheo collapsing on top of you, cock buried still inside your pussy, and both of you drank in lungfuls of air, starved for it, your brains fuzzy with the static of euphoria. You both laid there for a moment, rapt in the descent back to reality, until he pushed himself up and pulled out, holding you firmly in his stare again.

As he began to piece his clothes back together, you gathered your composure, pulling yourself up and off his bed, fixing yourself back to some form of decency. As you swallowed, watching Mattheo latch up his belt, he met your eyes again; the dark lust slowly fading, being replaced by an unspoken emotion you couldn't attempt to name.

"This isn't over." He breathed, moving back toward you. "We aren't over."

When your lungs hitched, you nodded, admitting to yourself that you already fucking knew you couldn't live without that. Without him.

"No," you whispered. "We aren't."

[acid-ixx]

"hostage situation"

series masterlist

nightwing, to his siblings: okay, so we have to be real careful because the joker and harley quinn are holding our baby sibling hostage and we can't put them in anymore danger.

nightwing, looks at red robin: i'm sure they have some traps laid around the lair so you'll be disarming it.

red robin, nods:

robin: then me and todd will be handling any spare targets, no?

nightwing: of course. cass, steph and duke will be guarding the entrance. babs?

oracle, speaking in the intercoms: this is the closest point of entry where (name) is being kept hostage.

red robin: security cams suggest there's more than just harley and the joker in the lair. a bunch of their goons are heavily guarding both the entrance and the exit. we should thread carefully.

oracle: there's no camera's where (name) is exactly at, but there's a specific room where it's shown that the two are often visiting.

batman, who had been lurking behind them: this is a priority mission. we can't afford to make mistakes.

robin, eyebrows raised: though, is it necessary to bring the entire family? me and my father could handle this entirely by ourselves.

jason, sighs: don't pretend like you weren't the first to suggest the entire justice league to come searching for them, kid.

batman: enough arguing, (name) needs all the support they could get after this. so on my count, we are to bust open the door.

dick: alright, everybody, prepare.

*meanwhile, inside the lair, in a makeshift "house"*

(name), sitting on a comfy chair whilst holding a cup of hot chocolate and a book in the other, sneezes: oh— did anyone mention my name?

harley quinn, already on her way to wipe their nose: oh my baby! is our baby sick?!

(name): no, i just suddenly sneezed?

the joker, in another room: i spy with my little eye, a child way past their bedtime~ c'mon babyboo, let's get you to bed!

(name): awe, but it's like, 10pm. i wanna read some more.

harley, about to pick (name) up: then let momma read the book for you in bed, cutesy pie—

*the door to the kitchen slams open*

dick, with his escrima sticks on-hand: surrender (name) to us now or—!

dick, absolutely befuddled: wait, what?!

damian, with bruce in tow: what's the hold up, nightwing?!

damian, about to jump right in front of dick before he was stopped by bruce's hand on his shoulder: what is... this?

bruce: ... explain the meaning of this, harley.

harley, holds (name) closer to her chest as she's equally confused: what do ya mean, bats? ain't it obvious i'm taking care of my child?

(name): uhm...

damian, visibly offended: what do you mean, your child? (name) over there is ours.

the joker, walks over to the room in a hurry: what's with all the commotion over here?! (name) is supposed to be in bed, harle— batman?!

bruce, with squinted eyes: don't act stupid, what is this all about?

nightwing, surveying the room: wait, why is (name) in pajamas?

(name), trying their best to shrug in harley's tight hug: i'm... supposed to go to bed...?

the joker, about to walk over to (name) before he's stopped by a batarang almost hitting the side of his head: hey! what's that for? i'm clearly not trying to attack my own child!

bruce: (name) is my child, not yours.

the joker, glaring at batman: well, it's not my fault they choose me over you!

(name) wayne, interrupting the two: uhm... i did technically disown myself from the family so—

damian: disown yourself?

(name): i have every reason to—

dick: look, baby bird, you don't know what's right for you, these guys are dangerous—

(name): i literally got nearly killed by some nobody criminals if not for harley saving me but okay, nightwing.

bruce, whose attention is now on (name): you almost got what now?

(name), rolling their eyes: i almost died, batman. now if you excuse me, i think i deserve a good night sleep tonight.

(name), looks at harley who still hasn't released them from the protective hug: can we?

harley quinn, facepalming in her mind as she stares back at (name): oh, i should've bought you to pam and selina instead.

[ghostgirl101]

I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||

A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha... Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩

You can't escape fate.

It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.

At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.

"You aren't resting."

Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.

"What troubles you?"

You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.

"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.

But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.

"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"

"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."

"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"

You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.

You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.

"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."

Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.

"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."

"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"

"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."

The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.

"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."

And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."

Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.

"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."

You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.

"Won't you tell me?"

Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.

"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.

"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.

"Not like you do," you answer steadily.

"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."

Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.

"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."

"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."

"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"

Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.

You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.

"A queen?"

"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.

"To being desired?"

You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."

"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."

You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.

"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."

"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."

"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."

══════════════⊹⊱≼ fin ≽⊰⊹══════════════

Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie

[munsonsmixtapes]

Saw your post for dirty reqs, what if eddie’s gf has a boring job at some kinda front desk. Eddie could come to see her and eat her out while a customer comes in or have her ride his lap while she has to answer a work call… just a thought :)

cw: oral (f receiving)

Another hour went by as you watched the clock on your computer. Business was slow as usual and you tried your best to keep yourself awake, the boredom getting to you. You had been texting your boyfriend Eddie in between customers and he had tried his best to keep you company, sending you nothing but filthy messages that warmed your cheeks.

Bet I could make you come right there with your boss in the other room

And that was one of tame messages. If you were being honest, the idea sounded intriguing. One, because you had been needing him all day. And two, because you had hated working there anyway and looking for a reason to either quit or get fired.

I need you, you responded and within ten minutes, he was at the door, striding in like he owned the place. He looked around the store to make sure that you were alone then made a beeline for your desk.

You had expected him to show up, but not that quickly. He lived at least twenty minutes from the shop so you assumed that he had been close by. He always seemed to be when you were working. The area wasn't exactly the safest so he just wanted to be sure that you were safe. And maybe he just liked the visit you sometimes to keep you company.

He leaned over it, a devilish smirk playing on his lips as he got closer, his lips ghosting over yours. He then captured them on a hot, searing kiss and you tried your best to keep quiet, but an involuntary moan fell from your lips. Eddie pulled away and rounded the desk, taking you into his arms as his tongue dipped into your mouth, wanting to taste every single inch of it.

"Fuck," he moaned against your lips. "Need to taste."

"You are tasting me, Eddie," you reminded him with a laugh.

"Not the part I want to be tasting, love," he smiled as he pulled the chair behind him closer. "Have a seat."

You quickly sat in the chair and Eddie got down on his knees, so grateful that you were wearing a skirt. He pulled the chair with him as he moved underneath the desk so that he was out of sight. Once he was under the desk, he sat up as best he could, spreading your legs and putting his head between them, his mouth latching onto your underwear as he licked and sucked on the fabric, trying to taste the slick that had leaked into it.

You were so wet and hearing your gasps made him so hard as thought about the two of you possibly getting caught. He always loved the thrill, loving the idea of someone catching you in the act, especially your boss who always seemed to come out at the worst moments.

You had done things like this more times that you could count, and you knew that it was wrong, but you couldn't help it. Eddie just had a grip on you that you couldn't explain. You would have done whatever he asked just because he was the one who was asking.

He'd flash you those chocolate brown eyes and you'd melt, automatically agreeing to what he wanted because that was just the effect he had on you. And you loved it. That he bossed you around told you what to do.

Eddie was making sure to take his time to make you beg for it, to make you whine just like always and it always got him off and for once this was all he was going to do. He was just going to eat you out, licking and sucking up every last bit of slick from your cunt until you were crying for him.

As soon as your whining began, Eddie grabbed onto the waist band of your underwear with his teeth and pulled it down quickly, putting them in his back pocket once he was done then immediately going in for your cunt, not being shy with his teeth.

But as soon as you were getting into it, your fingers threading through his hair, the front door opened, the bell jingling above the door to signify that someone had come in. You almost told Eddie to stop so you could greet the customer that was approaching the desk, but it just felt so good that you couldn't.

"H-hey," you greeted, putting a wide smile on your face as they approached the front desk where you were sitting. "How can I help you?" You asked and the customer told you that they were there for an appointment and you tried your best to look them up on the computer as Eddie's mouth moved to your clit, sucking on it so hard that you felt a moan at the back of your throat that you tried your best to hide by clearing your throat.

As soon as the tattoo artist the client had booked with had come to collect them and you made sure that they were actually in the designated room, Eddie went back in with his teeth, letting them slide against your cunt and you threw your head back against the chair, a loud moan falling from your lips and you had to cover your mouth so you wouldn't be heard.

"That's it, baby," Eddie urged with a smiled. "Just like that. Gonna scream for me? Want everyone to know how good I can make you feel." He then went back in, his tongue finding his way inside you and that set you off, a loud almost scream escaping your mouth and just when his tongue hit the right spot, it was a full on scream that you had to hide by covering your mouth once again.

Once you had come down from your orgasm, Eddie removed himself from you and you moved so he could get out from underneath the desk. He wiped your slick from his face with the bottom of his shirt before pressing his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth to give you a taste of yourself.

"See how good you taste, baby?" he asked with a whine before he pulled away. "I'll see you tonight, alright? Maybe in the back of my van and we can pick up where we left off?"

"S-sounds good," you stuttered with a nod and watched your boyfriend exit your place of work, wondering how you hadn't gotten fired or arrested for what you had just done.

[moonstruckme]

CONGRATS ON 7K!!!! I've never seen a blog that deserves it so much!

for the bake sale- id love apple pie number 14 (laddered tights). I'm not sure if poly! marauders is an option- if not James would be great!

hope you have an amazing day ☀️

Poly!marauders is always an option ! Hope you have an amazing day too <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 418 words

You hear Sirius’ quiet hiss, followed by James’ “now you’ve done it” before you can even look down. 

You see the chipped polish of your boyfriend’s fingernail at the epicenter of a new tear in your tights. 

“Sirius,” you sigh. “Really?” 

“I’m sorry.” He presses his hand over the tear as though to stop it from spreading. “You said these were supposed to be un-rip-able!” 

“That doesn’t mean you’re supposed to try to rip them.” 

“I wasn’t!” Sirius pouts at you. “I wasn’t, baby, I was just…I was…” 

“He was feeling you up,” James supplies. 

“I was admiring how your tights look on your legs. Through a tactile lens.” 

“Can they be fixed?” Remus asks, leaning over to see. The four of you are squished into a corner booth at a cafe. You and James had a craving for hot chocolate when the weather turned earlier this week, and you’d brought out your new tights for the occasion. 

“No, there’s no fixing them,” you sulk, cutting Sirius a look. “You owe me a new pair.” 

He manages to look chastised. James brushes his hand aside, poking his own finger into the tear. Like he’s pulled a thread, it snakes up the rest of your thigh. 

“Shit!” He pulls back.  

“It’s okay,” you say, though you sound dejected enough that Remus coos and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. “There’s really no way to keep it from getting worse.” 

“Oh, so when he does it it’s fine?” Sirius crosses his arms. “When did we get so blatant with our favoritism?”

“They’re already ruined,” you remind him. “Anything anyone does now is just speeding up the inevitable.” 

You take a long, slow sip of your tea while he sits with that, but when your boyfriend starts to look actually guilty you crack. 

“It’s really okay.” You offer him a smile.

“I’ll get you a new pair,” Sirius vows. 

“You don’t have to. I was only giving you a hard time.” 

He narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I know you were. But I want to anyway.” 

“You don’t have the backbone to be a very good tormenter, angel,” James teases you. Remus hums his agreement. “You give in too easily.” 

You scoff. “Like you can talk.” 

“Seal the deal with a kiss?” Sirius simpers at you. 

You roll your eyes. “Fine.” 

You lean towards him, but neither of your other boyfriends seems at all surprised when Sirius leans down to kiss your laddered tights instead. 

[muzansfangs]

How they eat you out.

Starring: Shunsui Kyoraku x f!reader; Unohana Retsu x f!reader; Zaraki Kenpachi × f!reader;

Format: short-imagines;

Warnings: nsfw, language, dom!unohana, dom! shunsui, dom!zaraki, sub!reader, switch!shunsui, oral sex (f!reader receiving), oral sex (unohana receiving), vaginal fingering, praise kink, overstimulation, male masturbation, size kink, creampie, dirty talk, vaginal sex;

Plot: they love you, they love you so much that giving you oral has become an art for them. But they all have a different style, their own unique way of doing it. How do they eat you out? What do they do to make you melt under their skilful tongue?

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Shunsui Kyoraku.

A master of seduction and the seven deadly sins, he would spend hours eating you out for hearing the sweet chant of moans and whimpers you sang for him. There is not a position you have not tried before, but his unrestrained thirst for you and his untainted desire to make you climax on his tongue made him opt for one that granted him the chance to palm himself and jerk off while exploring the depths of your core, coating his fingers and lips into his personal favorite nectar.

Kneeling in front of you, with your back flattened against the wall, Shunsui grasped one of your legs and draped it over his shoulder, his eye flicking up to check on you as he pushed the soaked fabric of your underwear to the side. Sex with him was intense, but never rough. He took care of you, led you safely towards the apex of pleasure.

"Let me taste you, please" he hoarsely pleaded you, your fingers threading the soft strands of his dark chocolate hair in anticipation.

You sighed, his hot breath fanning your wet folds making goosebumps raise on your thighs. Your reaction did not escape his eye, his mouth latching onto your skin and leaving a trail of wet kisses all the way up to your pussy. Yet, he did not dare to touch you directly, not until you gave him your explicit consent. He needed to hear it from him.

"Please, please, darling, please... Just say the word and I will lavish that pussy until you have no more strength to stand without me supporting you" he purred, teasingly kissing your bundle of nerves.

Electricity coursed through your veins, a shaky breath leaving your lips as you delicately pushed his head back towards your pussy "Feast on me. I'm all yours" you whispered, watching in awe as the Captain Commander grinned mischieviously up at you and proceeded in running his tongue flatly down your folds, before wrapping his lips around your throbbing clit.

Your knees buckled, a throaty moan ripping from your chest as you closed your eyes and lolled your head back against the wall. You knew that practice had made him this good, an ounce of jealousy always seeping into your mind whenever he masterly brought you to Heaven and back on Earth, now he was doing this to you, he was down on his knees to worship your body.

"Fuck! — you whined out, when a soft grunt erupted from his throat — Did I mention your eye-patch is hot?" you breathed out, enjoying the sight of your man spreading your labia with the fingers of his free hand while the other was wrapped around his shaft, busy relieving himself from the aching bulge driving him insane.

Shunsui delved his tongue into you, your fingers pulling on his hair a little tighter to brace yourself.

"Stop it or I will come in my hand..." he groaned, teasingly tugging with his teeth at your slippery folds. He perfectly knew what he was doing, but the sight of his dick in his hand was making you yearn for more.

You did not care if the act could be labeled as rude, demanding, or as a deliberate selfish way to assure yourself your climax, but you pulled his head back by his hair. Panting, quivering legs and a lustful gleam in your eyes you removed your leg from the top of his shoulder and motioned for him to stand up. The Captain Commander stood tall, his large frame a blanket of warmness enveloping you into his arms.

His hands rested flatly on the wall at your sides, caging you between it and his massive body. His stubble glistened in the dim light provided by the lamp on the nightstand and you cupped hos cheek in your hand, running your thumb over his cheekbone.

"Shunsui, I need more. Now" you murmured, your lips nipping on his earlobe as he glided his hands underneath your thighs and picked you up.

He did not say much, he simply rubbed the tip of his cock down your slick to collect your juices and he gradually, smoothly sheathed himself into you with a guttural groan. Your legs were tightly wrapped around his hips, once he began to thrust into you at a sensual pace, your moans sending him on Cloud Nine.

"I love you" he hoarsely said, gritting his teeth as he felt your walls clamping down onto him.

Your mind was fuzzy, but you had enough energy to cling onto him for dear life. Oral sex always led you two to want more and scream each others name at the top of your lungs. Because after all, when have you ever let him come in his hand? Never. He always busted his load into you.

Unohana Retsu.

Calm and collected, radiating a loving aura, she only showed her true colors to you. Not everyone knew about her past. If the stories about how she used to wield her sword to lead the Eleventh Division with pride and unadulterated cruelty had not come straight out of her mouth, you would have probably not believed them. It was hard for you to depict your girlfriend as a blood-thirsted woman who sat on a pile of corpses, crowning herself the queen of a despicable crew of professional assassins. Now, however, as you began to explore your intimacy, you could see some glimpses of her dark side.

The ferocity of such a beautiful and majestic woman claiming her place on the top of the food chain always left you speechless.

She was an attentive lover, overall. Albeit she never forced you to submit, she was pleased by the way you obediently obliged to her requests and never ceased to praise your natural predisposition to feed her inner cravings. Not selfish in the slightest, though, when it came down to oral she was so dedicated to the cause of bringing you joy and satisfaction that she did not hesitate to ask you to lay down on your back and let her give you an extrasensorial experience.

How? A passionate sixty-nine, naturally. Giving and receiving, according to her, allowed you the chance to focus on both your lover and on the warming feeling she provided you by swirling her tongue around your bundle of nerves meticulously. The remains of her former cold personality tended to resurface, whenever you engaged sexual intercourses. She rarely let you top, therefore she was the one to sit on your face during the sixty-nine.

She smiled softly against your dripping heat, the moment your thighs began to quiver. She knew exactly which spots to stimulate, when and how.

"You are doing such a good job. Your body is always so responsive" Unohana chimed, her breath slightly labored as she tried to restrain herself from moaning out your name at the way you sucked on her clit.

You did not answer, instead, you bucked up your hips to let her know how needy you were and how much you craved her touch. Sex with her was always so sensual it barely allowed you the chance to think straight.

She hummed at your shameless display of eagerness,  her hands gripping the plush of your thighs as she buried her mouth back into the warm cave of your pussy. Her tongue lapped at your folds viciously, leisurely when she flicked your clit, and she enjoyed how you started whimpering, neglecting the task at hand to give her pleasure as well.

"Oh my gosh! Babe, wait, if you keep on doing it like that I'll end up—" you piped out, your breath erratic as you tried to get her attention by squeezing her ass warningly.

But the First Kenpachi was not going to stop. Gently lowering her pussy onto your mouth once again, muffling your moans and whimpers. There it was, her real self, the wild woman she used to be.

"Coming?" she cooed, smiling against your pubes as you shut your eyes as nibbled at the glistening, puffy lips plastered over your mouth.

You could not take it anymore. Delving your tongue deep into her, you let it go. Waves of pleasure engulfed your nether regions and you released onto her tongue, as she let out a small whimper herself. Your juices dripped from her chin, her eyes fluttering opened while she straightened herself up, glancing at you from up above. Her braid undone, long and raven long hair draped over her smooth back. She looked dashing like that.

"My pretty girl is so good for me. — Unohana crooned, rotating her hips to create some more friction with your parted lips — Now, why don't you focus a little more and make me come too?" she asked you in a slightly darker tone.

Anything. You would have done anything for her.

Zaraki Kenpachi.

He does not eat you out, he devours you. You are his woman, for God’s sake, you deserve the best. Along with protecting you no matter what, this man would do literally anything to make you happy. Even though he does not waste any given chance to have you underneath him, so perfect and small compared to his large frame, Zaraki can somehow sense when you need some good treatment. What does it consist in? Having you sprawled over the bed, folded in half, your pussy ready for him to lavish and suck dry.

“It’s lunch time” he croaked out, as he pushed your legs to your chest and shot you a knowing look, prompting you to keep them up for him as he glided his index down your slick to tease you.

You two had such a chemistry in bed it was hard not to read each others minds. His fingers mapped out all the right spots your body with expertise, they explored you until you were left writhing and shaking under him. Although he was not known around for being a gentleman, he was far from being rough with you.

You trembled, when he slowly plunged his digit into you, the stretch already leaving you breathless, but it did not last for two much. He pumped it a few times into you, eliciting soft whimpers and whines from you that made his chuckle in amusement.

“Look at you. So small to even take my fingers, yet so wet you are dripping…” he noted, your cheeks heating up at his unfiltered remark.

You loved him.

When he removed his fingers, the man quickly shoved it into his mouth and made sure to savour your taste. His visible eye boring into yours as he grinned and buried his face down onto your cunt, his tongue lapping and sucking on your clitoris hungrily, air knocked out of your lungs temporary. Recovering from his assault was almost impossible for you, everytime was like the first.

“K–Kenny! O my God… Don’t stop” you whispered, your legs quivering as you struggled to keep them up from his to enjoy his feast.

“Keep them up” he groaned, delving his tongue into your core and causing you to gasp and grip the back of your thighs a little tighter to push them more towards your chest. But he knew you were struggling, he knew you needed help and he wanted you to focus on your pleasure above anything else.

Keeping his mouth busy on your pussy, messily licking and nibbling, he swatted your hands away and gripped your thighs roughly. Moaning loudly, as he kept your folded in half, you felt a familiar pressure coiling on your lower abdomen, your mind going blank as your orgasm washed over you violently, like a wave crashing over you.

Kenpachi truly had his own special way to kill you softly.

Author note.

Hello there! I’m so glad I managed to post this second part to ‘how they eat you out’. A third and, probably,last one is coming and it will include Shinji, Isshin and Grimmjow. I hope you have enjoyed this one! As per usual, likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @kr0wu @electronicwitchcollection @brittscafe @stygianoir @bleach-your-panties I dedicate this piece to you 💜

[fiber-optic-alligator]

I would LOVE to see a TFA!Megatron x human reader of some kind. I love him so much, such an intimidating and scary but fun version of him 🤭 I want it to be in the First Contact AU still, but why not sorta spice things up and make it have soulmates in it? Wouldn't it be cool to have a giant alien warlord from space destroying cities to find their soulmate? 😳🫣 lol if this idea sucks de bout it, but I'm excited to see your works that's transformers g/t related!

- ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST CHAMELANON! PLEASE ENJOY!!! God I love TFA Megs so much. He's so hot AUGH!

Be Careful What You Wish For

Pairing: TFA Megatron x Human Reader (Soulmate Au)

Word Count: 2961

Summary: Soulmates exist, and you have one. Proof exists in the form of soulmarks: a red thread-like tattoo imprinted on a person's arm. Only when one meets their soulmate and touches them will the soulmark disappear. Unfortunately, you have yet meet yours. After many lonely days wishing you would be reunited with your Other Half, a chaotic encounter with the leader of the Decepticons has you realizing one thing. And it is that soulmates persevere across time...and space.

Soulmates are real.

  Since you were a young child, this is what you have been told. Soulmates are real, and every person has one. The special red thread that connects two people twines between the left hand’s fingers, up the arm, snaking under the clavicle and ending directly over the heart. Bright like the blood running through your veins, it is your life force, your compass leading you to your Other Half, with your hand outstretched to touch theirs…and only then will the red thread disappear.

  You’ve spent hours staring at that red line, tracing the pattern it makes on your flesh. It’s been a constant presence throughout your life…and it has never gone away. No matter who you’ve met, who you have fallen in love with, who you have fallen out of love with, it is all the same. The thread remains, and you continue to carry a lonely heart within you.

  “Give it time,” your loved ones tell you. “You’ll find them. It won’t happen in a heartbeat. You need to be patient.”

  Yes, you know. Patience, after all, is a virtue. Plenty go about their lives and never even see their thread go away. An existence without your soulmate can be a perfectly happy one. But you want to know who your Other Half is. You want to be one of the lucky few who can be counted as soulfully complete.

  Sitting in a coffee shop with a hot chocolate cupped between your hands, you find yourself once again observing your thread. The morning is cold; you can feel the wind trying to bite you through the shop’s large glass window. People bundled in their coats, scarves, and gloves hurry by, heads down and minds focused on whatever tasks they have at hand. Looking out, you observe them with a blank stare, not really observing them at all.

  “Anything I can get you right now?” The older woman who owns the shop comes up to you, offering a plate of freshly baked cookies. “Chocolate chip? They’re right out of the oven!”

  You offer her a thin smile and shake your head no. She understands; she’s seen you forlornly watching couples pass by. Sighing, she sets down the plate. “You know,” she says. “I didn’t meet my soulmate until I was in my early 40’s.”

  You raise an eyebrow. She sees your surprise and chuckles. “I know, right? A little late to be meeting my Other Half. But hey, it happened. And now look at me! I’m living a good life, running a successful business, and I got to see my thread go away. Those are all things I never thought I’d get to experience. All I had to do was wait a little!”

  You cringe. Yes, waiting. It seems all you’ve been doing is waiting, waiting, waiting, all for a soulmate who might never come. You and your damn waiting.

  She notices your mood go sour and sighs again. “Listen, all I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t lose hope. You’ll meet your soulmate. I know you’ve probably heard this before, but…you need to give the world time to sort things into order. That’s all you really can do when you're dealing with the threads of fate.”

  You mumble a quiet “Thank you” and try to look appreciative, when you feel anything such. She says no more, but leaves you a cookie before heading off to tend to the other customers. You watch her go, then lift up your left hand. Your thread is vibrantly bright, showing no signs of fading any time soon.

  Yeah, you think sadly while you bite into the cookie. No hope lost whatsoever.

  You are walking out of the shop when it happens. The door’s little chimes clink together as you swing it open and bid the owner farewell. And then, a pain unlike any other hits you with the force of a freight train. It tackles you and makes you stagger, knees buckling and bringing you to the ground in a matter of seconds. Your heart starts slamming against your ribcage so hard you think a bone might crack. Pushing your hand against your chest, you pant and watch your vision swim as you attempt to get to your feet, yet fail and fall down once more.

  Multiple people help you up, each one asking if you are alright. You hold out a shaking hand as if to assure them, but no sound comes out of your mouth when you try to speak.

  Someone says, “Call an ambulance!” You want to tell them you are fine; unfortunately, you can’t seem to form any coherent words. All that rises up from your throat is a thin, wispy whimper.

  The chaos continues when out of nowhere, an explosion erupts further down the street. People scream and scramble back. The people holding you let go, and you nearly topple right over again. Shouts of panic and confusion fill the air, confirming that no one has a clue as to what is going on.

  Two dark shapes scream through the sky. You look up just in time to see a fighter jet fly past with a bomber plane following behind. For a moment, you think this is some sort of military aerial show-why such a thing would be happening in the middle of winter, you don’t know-but it’s the only conclusive argument you can decide on what you are seeing.

  But then the two planes start descending. They roar over the crowded street, then begin morphing and shaping themselves into creatures completely different from the disguises they previously sported. You recognize them: they are Cybertronians. Robots from outer space who have become borderline celebrities in Detroit since arriving here months earlier. These two, however, aren’t members of the heroic Autobots who help protect the city. They are Decepticons. The villains, the destroyers. The bad ones.

  The smaller of the two stretches his arms over his head. He laughs maniacally as he watches people run. “Look at them, Lugnut! They’re scurrying away like little ants!”

  The other Deception growls and pays no mind to his partner. “Silence, Blitzwing. Lord Megatron has a mission for us to complete. We must distract the humans while he finds the one he is looking for.”

  Blitzwing’s face swivels and changes into an icy blue expression. He surveys the humans around him with an air of disgust. “I don’t understand why Lord Megatron cares to capture one of these creatures. They are far too weak to be kept as pets.”

  “It is not my place to question him, nor is it yours. We are here to do as we are told and give our lord the time he needs to complete his mission.” Lugnut grabs a car and throws it into the air. It crashes down with a heavy slam, windows shattering, metal crumpling, alarm screeching out the vehicle’s pain. You watch in horror, unable to fathom that you have a front row seat to this show of destruction Detroit is about to face.

  Yeah, no, you think. I’m not sticking around. These Decepticons obviously have no regard for human lives. If you remain here, there is a high chance you will end up dead. You need to run, now.

  “You're not going anywhere, little one.”

  The voice is deep, and it pulses through your mind like a gong. You clutch your head and bite back a shout of pain. A strange feeling builds up in your chest. It makes your heart beat faster, and your thread begins to burn with an uncomfortable warmth you have never felt before.

  A third vehicle appears from the sky: a strange helicopter with two blades and a massive cannon mounted beneath its cockpit. Your hair whips back when it lands. The Cybertronian’s body condenses and rises, metal folding over metal, creating a gigantic figure with narrowed red eyes that immediately land on you the moment they open. Your jaw drops; this is easily the biggest mech you have ever seen. And you recognize him. Megatron, the feared leader of the Decepticon forces, and the worst bot you could run into right now.

    Lugnut drops to his knees and bows. “I serve you, Lord Megatron!”

  Megatron does not acknowledge him. He remains focused on you. You are finding it hard to breathe.

  Blitzwing walks over to the taller mech. “My lord, the Autobots will be arriving soon. What should we do?”

  “Continue destroying what you can.” Megatron’s voice is a deep rumble of thunder. You feel the wind get knocked out of you when you hear it. His voice. His voice. Why are you so focused on his voice?

  Your thread is beginning to burn. You slap your hand over your left arm and squeeze, hissing through your teeth. Megatron notices; he looks intrigued.

  “Have you found what you are looking for, master?” Lugnut asks.

  “Indeed I have,” Megatron replies. “And I don’t intend to let it escape me. Resume your orders. Keep the Autobots back for as long as you can. Once I have what we came here for, I will sound the retreat.”

  Blitzwing and Lugnut do not question him any further. You, on the other hand, are questioning everything. Why is this robot having such an effect on you? Why can you hear his voice in your head? And why, why is your soulmark on fire?!

  He’s here for me. There’s no solid confirmation that has been given to you about this, but you know deep down it is true.

  He’s looking right at me.

  Shit. Fuck.

  Your legs want to move. But your brain forbids it and forces you to remain put, even as other people go running by you, their screams mingling as one high-pitched wail while Blitzwing and Lugnut destroy anything they can get their hands on.

  Megatron remains still. He tilts his head with the air of a curious predator who is searching out the weak spots of his prey. You cannot drop eye contact with him. Something about his piercing gaze has you rooted to the spot in which you stand.

  Only when he begins lumbering towards you do you snap out of it and run with the rest.

  Everything is a blur for you. You nearly get shoved to the ground multiple times by the panicked masses who are fleeing. It feels like Detroit is crashing down. Police drones are flying in to fight back against the Decepticons, but you don’t think for a second they’ll do any damage against them. After all, they hardly ever do.

  “Don’t run from me, little one.”

  There is pain. So much pain. It is too much for you to handle. It causes you to collapse, clutching your head and writhing in agony.

  “You are so much more fascinating than the rest of your pathetic kind.”

  The ground trembles. Each step signals the robot drawing closer and closer.

  “Why can I feel what you feel? Why does my spark tremble with your fear? I don’t understand it. I need to understand it. So stop running, and come here.”

  You need to keep going. Grunting, you struggle to your feet and stumble forward in a haphazard fashion. You don’t even bother looking back to see if the robot is close. You just need to run. You need to hide.

  Your miracle appears in the form of a parking garage. Squirming under the partially closed grated gate, you find that it is abandoned; no one is in here with you, and the cars are all empty, abandoned by their owners. You retreat into a corner dark and covered with shadows. It should provide you with the necessary cover you need in order to hide.

  You remain in there for what feels like hours.  It goes awfully quiet outside. Any remaining civilians are long gone. Somewhere close, you think you hear the sound of mechs duking it out. Your breathing echoes off of the parking garage’s walls, giving you a further sensation of complete unease. Perhaps hiding in here wasn’t the best choice. Maybe you should have continued running with other people to a safer spot. Allowing others to be in your presence would endanger them…but now you are alone, completely defenseless to those who wish you harm. The robot who is currently stalking you can kill you without even thinking about it. By hoping to protect the city, you may have ensured your own doom.

  You hear stomping outside. Too loud to be human, too heavy to be an Autobot. Your heart tugs eagerly on its strings in an attempt to break free. It’s a mutual sensation of utter fear and strange wanting.

  “Where are you?”

  You see the massive head of the mech appear right underneath the gate. A shriek nearly escapes you, and you have to slap your hands over your mouth to quell it. A single roving red eye searches the garage, unblinking.

  “I am not known for my patience, human. If you do not show yourself, I cannot guarantee things will end up well for you.”

  The eye settles on you. It narrows and a low growl emits from the robot’s intake. “There you are.”

  You have no chance to react before Megatron’s hand smashes through the gate. You scream when his fingers curl around you. Tightly pressed against his palm, you struggle and kick your feet while Megatron slowly draws you out into the open.

  “Let me go!” you shriek. “Stop! Please!”

  Megatron growls again and gives you a warning squeeze. “Fighting me will get you nowhere. Cease this at once, or suffer the consequences.”

  Well, that’s threatening. You immediately go limp and snap your mouth shut. Megatron snorts, satisfied. He brings you closer to his face, studying you. You shrink back, flush with panic and terror.

  “What is your name, human?” he rumbles.

  You stutter out a barely coherent reply. “Y-Y-Y/N.”

  “Y/N.” He repeats it to himself. “Y/N…a fitting name. Tell me, have we ever met before?”

  “I…I d-don’t believe so?” you say.

  “Hm.” He regards you, turning his hand left and right so he can examine you from all angles. “How very interesting.”

  “W-What’s interesting?”

  “Your mark.” He pushes his thumb under your left forearm. “It’s gone.”

  You follow his gaze. Indeed, where your thread should have been-the thread that has been with you for your entire life, a presence in which you believed would never leave you-there is only bare skin. There isn’t a speck of red to be seen. The burning that accompanied it before is gone too, and now there is a sort of settlement weighing on your chest. It is an instinctive rush of fulfillment, like this was meant to happen.

  You feel faint. Nothing makes sense anymore when you look back at the robot. “You…You're my soulmate?” you squeak.

  “Soulmate.” Megatron stretches the word out into a slow drawl. “So that’s what your species calls it. Yes, you can say that. My kind has a similar phenomenon that affects us.” He opens his mouth and breathes in deeply. “You smell of fear. I can see in your eyes that you know me. So this city is aware of who I am, hm?”

  You don’t dare answer. You're way too terrified of how close his massive teeth are to you. You don’t want to think about what might happen if you find yourself between them.

  “There is no need to be afraid of me. Our sparks are linked. I would be killing a piece of myself if I were to eliminate you.” He sighs. “As disappointed as I am to discover that my sparkmate is a human, I can learn to work with it. I wish to know more about you, Y/N. I will know why fate tied us.”

  “I need to know more.”

  “What makes you so different?”

  “Foolish little thing, you cannot get away from me.”

  “I will get to the bottom of this.”

  His thoughts are loud and overwhelming. You shake your head and feel tears gather in your eyes. “Please…It’s too much. Your thoughts-”

  “Ah. Is that primitive brain of your overloading? I can hear it. Don’t think your thoughts aren’t in my head as well.” He rises to his full height. “I am sure we will both learn to get used to it. If not, I will have Shockwave create something that will bar my thoughts from entering your mind.”

  “Wait! Wait!” You look down. The ground is far away from you. Everything sways queasily when Megatron begins to walk. “No! Put me down!”

  “If you vomit on me, I will not hesitate to drop you,” the Decepticon says gratingly.

  “Y-You can’t take me with you!” you yell at him. “I can’t be your soulmate! There has to be a mistake!”

  “The spark doesn’t lie. Your mark is gone, and I can feel the completion you bring me. There is no question that you are my Other Half. What I want to know is why.” He shakes his head angrily. “It is a burden to have such a weak creature by my side. But I will learn to understand. Perhaps you can show me the few strengths humans possess. Do you think you can convince me to spare your race, little one?”

  He’s taking you. He’s not letting you go. You feel faint with horror at the realization that you aren’t getting out of this. Whether you believe it or not, this alien robot is your soulmate.

  You’ve gotten exactly what you wanted. But this isn’t how you thought meeting your Other Half would go.

  You hear one last thought from Megatron echo ominously in your mind. It sends shivers down your spine. “You are mine now.”

  After that, you pass out.

[amischiefofmuses]

A warm smile graced his features at that, it felt like it had been an eternity since she'd needed him like this, finally he had his little girl back and he was determined to ensure her dreams of redemption for sinners would come true. -- ❝I'm glad you let me stay.❞ He replied, settling back against the cupboards while Charlie made their drinks, content in their casual conversation. That was until suddenly it wasn't so casual. His smile fell, arms tightened around him just a touch as his gaze settled on the tiled floor. -- ❝Of course I do, more than anything.❞ Lucifer responded wistfully. All these years he'd pretended everything was okay, perhaps it was time he was more open. She'd grown since then, afterall, a young woman in her own right and he owed her at least some understanding of that whole mess. He'd been just about to step away from the counter and offer a hug, but the offer of the hot chocolate halted him. Long enough for those sighed words to break his heart. -- ❝But I have no doubt if she knew about all of this she'd be so proud, just like I am. You're doing amazing things, Charlie.❞

" Thanks dad, I'm glad you're here " she smiled. it was true, Charlie had missed home and family but she owed it to herself to try and navigate this life on her own first. The kitchen was huge, much bigger then Charlie thought they needed but beautifully designed and fully stocked with anything you could want. She gathered cups and began boiling the milk, Hot chocolate with water is a sin and well, she would know. " Do you ever think about mom ? " The question surprised her as it left her lips, Charlie had no idea where that came from and yet she was dying to know, Where her mother was and if they could repair whatever it was that broke? Charlie finished the hot chocolate and handed Lucifer his with a small awkward ' sorry I brought up Lillith ' kind of smile. Taking a sip of hers and burning her tongue she immediately set it down on the counter and took a seat on one of the many stools lining the middle island counters. " I just, wish I could tell her about all this " Charlie sighed

[xvysarene]

ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕥𝕙 𝕒𝕟𝕕 ℍ𝕠𝕞𝕖

Pairing: LADS Men (+ Caleb) x Fem!Reader Prompt: Husband material & domestic life Words: ~1.4k || 300-400 per LI Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Suggestive (if you blink), Established relationship A/N: Another request by my sis @brailsthesmolgurl. It's quite a challenge writing in this kind of short format, but I love how it turned out!

[ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST]

⊱ 𝕏𝕒𝕧𝕚𝕖𝕣

Xavier keeps a watchful eye, a beacon of reassurance in a world filled with uncertainty.

Regular check-ins during the day such as “𝑁𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔?”, “𝑇𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑈”, and “𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑈 𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑛?” are gentle reminders that he’s there for you.

Whether it be a hand on your back, positioning himself on the street side to shield you from the oncoming traffic, or ensuring your comfort before taking a seat, his subtle acts affirm his protective nature.

You won’t feel his watchfulness to be intrusive; he respects your boundaries and independence, believing that his role is to enhance your safety and well-being, not to control you.

Like a ray of tranquility amidst the raging storm, Xavier's composed approach keeps the frictions between you both from escalating.

The flames of anger will be extinguished, restoring harmony, unity, and equilibrium.

Evenings are reserved for cuddles, finding solace from the chaos of the outside world, enveloped in the warmth of each other's embrace.

Though you’re still hesitant to let him near the cooktop or oven, he has mastered the art of preparing hot chocolates for your downtime.

The soft grumbles escaping his lips as you pause threading through his hair brings out a chuckle from you.

Teasingly, you ask what his associates at UNICORNS would say if they witnessed the fierce hunter yielding to a head scratch.

When no reply comes, you assume he has fallen asleep. But in a sudden blur of movement, Xavier is on top of you, one hand firmly pinning yours down.

“𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑑𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝘩𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝘩𝑜𝑤 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑟𝑐𝑒 𝐼 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒,” the low whispered words and the scent of chocolate wafting off him sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

As you meet his smouldering gaze, you're reminded once more that beneath his calm exterior lies an untamed passion waiting to be unleashed.

His other hand has embarked on its journey, its touch electrifying, sending excitement coursing through your veins.

⊱ ℝ𝕒𝕗𝕒𝕪𝕖𝕝

Rafayel may be a maestro in allocating his focus and attention to several people at once, a skill developed by his job of entertaining the crowd.

But, when you’re by his side, you can be certain that his attention will solely be on you.

Unabashed physical affection—fingers interlacing with yours, an arm wrapping around you, or giving you a quick kiss—and the variety of nicknames (wifey, doll, babe, among others) he uses even in public leaves no doubt to others that you’re his.

And he’s yours.

“𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒, 𝐼 𝑠𝑖𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑡 𝑡𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑖𝑙𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤𝑙𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑤𝑖𝑓𝑒,” he'll interject, cutting off the words of anyone who seemingly ignores you, letting them know that they have truly offended you and him, “𝐴𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑤 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑦 𝑤𝘩𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢’𝑣𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑜𝑏𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑜.”

He will ensure you never feel unloved or not good enough for him. Words of affirmation will grace your life, constantly reminding how cherished you are. 

Don’t be surprised by the lavish pampering and sudden romantic, at times whimsical, getaways.

Theme park’s resort hopping? Sounds fun!

Your dining table will always be adorned with fresh flowers, meanwhile, the books are sorted by colour—a quirky habit of Rafayel that you find amusing, especially when he scolds you for misplacing a book.

Rafayel's fiery passion, though, can manifest in heated arguments. Nonetheless, he’ll still acknowledge your perspective, validating your feelings and concerns speaks volumes about his respect.

Be aware of his cheeky personality that will definitely rile you up. He enjoys teasing you, but it's all in good fun.

“𝑌𝑜𝑢’𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔!”

Tugging your hand, he cages you with his arms. A mischievous smile on his face as he replies, “𝑌𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑛𝑜𝑦𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑢𝑦, 𝒘𝒊𝒇𝒆𝒚,” before capturing your lips, turning your complaints into a symphony of moans.

Talented artist's fingers will make you quiver with anticipation. You're his canvas on which pleasure is painted in vibrant shades of desire with each touch.

⊱ ℤ𝕒𝕪𝕟𝕖

Zayne’s stoic nature and stress melt away the moment he steps through the door, replaced with a content smile gracing his lips at the sight of you welcoming him.

On his best days, he greets you back with a kiss, whispering, “𝐼’𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒.” A trace of guilt laces his words when your messages from earlier in the day were left unanswered due to his busy schedule.

On the bad days, seeing the lingering frown on his face or sensing the overpowering pressure that he can't quite shake as he walks inside, you greet him with an even warmer embrace.

Sinking to the floor as you hold him tight, the shared silence between you and him is a language all their own, a refuge in a world filled with noise.

And it works both ways.

He’s always ready to be your pillar, holding you firmly through your burdens, sharing the weight when it becomes too much.

Stability and security—that’s how you feel around him. He’s your steady anchor in a turbulent sea.

Whenever he travels out of town for work, you occasionally tag along, and he feels guilty about leaving you by yourself.

A dinner together is guaranteed, no matter how tied up he is during the day. His eyes soften with adoration as he watches you chew your food happily.

“𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑑𝑖𝑑 𝐼 𝑔𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑜 𝑙𝑢𝑐𝑘𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝘩𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑓𝑒?” he murmurs quietly, and you look at him like he’s lost his mind.

Here you are, in a burger joint (much to his dismay, but he won’t say no), enjoying your meal in jeans and a shirt, and he says the most romantic thing.

In any relationship, disagreement is inevitable. Zayne, comfortable with his frigid manner, can be icy and distant, often choosing silence over confrontation. The fights are never loud or explosive, but the quiet cuts just as deep.

Zayne will make the first move towards reconciliation if he's the one who isolates himself. You both understand that growth involves learning to navigate and accept each other's flaws.

With that being said, it won’t be rare for the primal need to surface after he bares his raw emotion. When words fail, his touch conveys everything, setting ablaze an ardent fire between both of you.

His hands roam your body with a scorching zeal, each caress igniting a fervent passion that consumes you both.

⊱ ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕖𝕓

Caleb is akin to a familiar melody tuning in the backdrop of your memories—a constant presence in your life.

Growing up, your paths may have diverged, leading you through different experiences.

Even so, he's still the same Caleb you've always known; the caring sweetheart who gently blew on your scraped knee when you tumbled from the bicycle, the kid who held your hand through your parents’ scolding for returning home late.

It's no wonder your deep bond's gravitational pull draws you back together.

A knowing glance, a shared smile, a comforting touch… there’s an unspoken understanding that transcends words.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee greets you every morning, a routine he insists on keeping since he knows how much you love it.

A framed photo in the hallway shows two innocent kids smiling side by side. Beside it, another picture shows matured versions of the said children, their smiles illuminated with joy and love shared during their first dance as husband and wife.

It’s more than a memory, more than saying, “𝐼 𝑑𝑜.”

The depth of your trust in him is unparalleled. Every fear, every dream—you've shared it all with him, knowing that he will always listen without judgment.

However, due to the deep pool of shared memories, your debates can swiftly become emotionally charged.

His approach with empathy and commitment to working through obstacles together strengthens your bond with each issue you overcome.

Knowing Caleb for a long time also means you can predict when one of his mischievous antics is about to happen by the playfulness glinting in his eyes.

Just like now, as you tease him for losing the pillow fight.

“𝐼 𝑝𝑢𝑟𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑛𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑦.”

You gasp as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, heat flooding your cheeks at the innuendo and the blossoming excitement it ignites.

Strong hands glide up your thigh, settling on your waist. His fingers trace delicate, tantalizing patterns on the skin exposed just above the waistband, chuckling as you squirm.

“𝑁𝑜𝑤, 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑤𝑜? 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑜 𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑦 𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑠 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒.” His warm breath tickles your earlobe before you feel him nibbling on it.

Suffice to say, you surrender pretty quickly this time.

⤷ ᝰ.ᐟ MASTERLIST

[residenthughes]

opera house - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x afab reader

word count: 2.5k

tags/warnings: +18 nsfw, so minors dni, oral sex (m on f), dirty talk (if you can call it that?), no mention of y/n, pet names (baby, princess)

summary: reading is your favourite pastime. jack makes it harder than anticipated.

notes: so...🫣 this happened. it's a small little thing that started out with me just wanting to write about how pretty jack is only to turn into the respectful pile of filth. don't write smut much so apologies if this isn't to your liking, but hopefully i'll be back with something better. also, the sentence in italics is a quote from the book mentioned in the fic. much love! <3

As the cold November climate nips at your flesh and colours the sky in hues of grey, you nestle in the cosiness of your home, warm and sheltered with your treasured fuzzy socks on as you curl up on your bed with one of the books you’ve been meaning to read. Jack says it’s a bad habit of yours: buying books that collect dust on your shelf, to which you quickly argue that he’s the one enabling your ‘bad habit’ by constantly buying them for you - your Goodreads profile bookmarked in his phone for safe keeping. An endearing act of service, all of which he is no stranger to - gifting said books in the form of a bouquet every time he leaves for a long road trip, taking out the trash because he knows it’s your least favourite chore, curling up with you now, sweetly bundled in between your legs as you two find peace in the silence you share. It’s like a warm hot chocolate on a chilly day like today, your connection smooth and comforting, wrapping you in the warmth of its embrace.

You peer beyond the top of your book, catching an eyeful of the back of Jack’s head and his loose curls, the soft clicks of his gamer control sounding as his eyes focus on the TV screen a few metres ahead. Your sugary thoughts of how endearing your long-term boyfriend can be - always is - overflow like lava, the smile on your face terribly enamoured as your fingers card through his hair, curling the soft locks around your index finger.

Like clockwork, Jack leans into your touch, slouching further into his position in between your thighs, laying a chilly cheek against the flesh of your thighs.

You squirm against the brush of his eyelashes against your skin. “That tickles.”

“Uh huh,” he absently answers, tapping away at his gamer control. “Does this?”

A delicate kiss marks you, Jack’s head going back to laying against your thigh as he directs his attention to the game set out against the TV.

“No,” you blush. “But, that was nice.”

A huff of amusement sounds from Jack and instantly, you know what position you've put yourself in by saying that. “Bet it was. Aren’t you busy with that book of yours?”

You bite back, the muscles of your thighs tightening their grip around your boyfriend. “Sometimes a distraction is necessary.”

The clicks of his gamer control halt and silence envelopes the room, your eyebrow raised as his on-screen character dies as a result of his negligence. 

Jack clears his throat, his body shuffling against yours as he readjusts his position, restarting the game. “Maybe you’re right about that, baby.”

A pout remains settled against your lips as your eyes squint at your partner, your suspicion towards his action not enough to distract you from the habitual motion of your fingers as they thread through Jack’s hair. You raise your opened book back to eye-level, not batting an eyelash.

It’s when you’ve gotten perhaps three sentences into your book that Jack breaks the silence. “What’s the story about?”

“The book I’m currently reading?” Jack hums in reply. “Oh, it’s a spinoff of a series I’ve been meaning to read. It’s basically a college romance story about a girl aspiring to be on the national ice hockey team and her getting help from this guy she met years ago, called Ryder. Unexpectedly smutty, 10/10 would recommend.”

Jack laughs with you at your nasty comment, body vibrating against yours as his chuckle courses through him. You lower your book again.

“You and your smutty books,” Jack snickers to himself, eyes trained ahead of him. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “In what ways is it unexpectedly smutty?”

Despite how long you’ve been with Jack and the comfort you've established living alongside him, the question does make you a bit flustered, crimsoning as you look away, avoiding any view of him. “Well, it’s pretty raunchy up front. Like how they’ve done some naughty things in the shower - quite tame, but I’ve also just read that Ryder did some things when they went to go see the opera.”

“What things?” Jack asks, point blank.

Now, it’s time for you to clear your throat. Cheeks tinted. “Do I even have to say, Jack?”

The pause screen displays itself against the TV, the clicks of his controller no more as Jack shifts once again within your grasp, body turning as he lays his stomach against the comfort of the mattress, pools of azure staring into yours. Your heart thuds in your chest.

“Yes, I wanna hear what things you’re reading,” he says easily as if he isn’t inciting violence in your chest right now, the corner of his pink lips curved softly as he tilts his head against your thigh. “All of it.”

Suddenly, the temperature in the room escalates from toasty warm to scorching hot, a familiar flame in the pits of your stomach igniting as you’ve somehow found yourself in such a predicament - backed into a corner and at a loss for words.

“He,” you stammer, averting your eyes because all Jack’s eyes do is look at you, his burning gaze elevating the heat that dances against the surface of your cheeks. “He fingers her in the opera.”

You whisper that last part but Jack hears you judging by the faint chuckle coming from him. “He fingers who at the opera?”

He accents his point with a kiss against your thigh, this time the gesture conjuring a polar opposite sensation as goosebumps riddle your skin. You let out a shaky breath you hadn’t known you were holding, looking again at your partner to still find him looking right back at you, eyelids heavy and eyes dark. You have to look away.

You gulp. “Gigi - her name is Gigi.”

You finally muster some sort of courage you’ve had to find within your situation when you hear Jack shift again, eyes capturing your boyfriend’s arms coming up to circle around your thighs, eyes never leaving yours as his hands find purchase against your skin, thumbs absently caressing the surface much like you did earlier with his hair. 

“Is that short for something?” Jack accents his question with another kiss, his touch searing. 

“No,” you gulp, voice foolishly unsteady as your eyes study Jack’s movements with caution. “I mean, Ryder jokes that her name is Gisele, but that’s-”

“Guys like to tease,” he kisses a little higher against your thigh as if to prove his point. “Especially with girls they like.”

“I don’t think that’s appreciated, Jack.” 

You’re talking about a completely different thing now - a conversation within a conversation. 

“I don’t know about that, baby,” whilst still staring at you, his teeth manage to nip at a small sliver of your skin, numbness plaguing your limbs. “Read it to me.”

Your brows knit together, puzzled as ever. “What?”

“You heard me,” declares Jack, his kisses abundantly littering the expanse of your thigh as your mind begins to spiral. “Read it to me.”

Your mind is frazzled, brain working overtime to comprehend the sudden turn of events, all the while Jack takes it upon himself to sit pretty in between your legs and touch you as if made from porcelain - delicate and tender, a sharp contrast to the emotions bathing you in lust. Jack glances up at you one more time, button nose nuzzling against your inner thigh as he gives you a knowing look, his lips preoccupied. You obey wordlessly, uneasy eyes still on him as you bring your book back upwards, its previous position altered so you can manage to steal a look at Jack out of your peripheral.

Out loud, you begin to read to him the aftermath of the opera scene, a more tame development following as you manage to get through the next page unscathed. Jack’s kisses at first, are a bit distracting and have your voice betray you, but they’re sporadic and by the time you’ve turned the page, you’re already used to the sensation. You even achieve some comfort in his touch, but that doesn’t last long because when you’re in the midst of your storytelling, you feel Jack’s fingers hook around your shorts’ waistband.

Immediately, you lower your book, a chill running down your spine. “What are you doing?”

He bats his long eyelashes, almost mockingly. “Listening to you.”

“Jack.” For once, your tone is firm, watching aimlessly as he inches the material past your hip bones.

“Lift your hips a little or I won’t be able to get these off you,” he insists, a convincing smile settled amongst his charming features that express his pleasure in this all. “Unless you wanna keep them on?”

It’s a rhetorical question, a trap set up to see if you’ll bite and despite it all, the excitement of what’s to come leads you right where Jack wants you. Lifting your hips with an embarrassing ache in between your legs as you lie in anticipation, continuing on with your reading as Jack goes back to teasing you endlessly.

“Gettin’ pretty worked up over this story, huh?” echoes Jack. “I can tell.”

To demonstrate the meaning of his words, he blows a cool breeze against you that makes you mewl and draw your thighs closer at the sensation. Heart thudding against your chest, your bewildered gaze gravitates back to Jack who kisses you through the fabric of your underwear and has you fumbling for words.

“I didn’t say you could stop reading,” Jack removes his lips, peering up at you with a look that melts you into a pathetic pool of yourself. “You stop, I stop. Sound fair?”

That sounds anything but fair, but who are you to say so? He clearly holds all the power in this situation, you dancing right in the palm of his hand. This has escalated beyond a point of no return and you’re not backing out now so you oblige, opening your mouth to read but uttering out nothing more than a moan as Jack pulls your underwear to the side, his fingers gliding through your wet folds. 

“So satisfying to tease you when your reactions are this good,” he rasps, followed by a low chuckle as his calloused fingertip circles around your clit, eliciting the buck of your hips and the waiver in your voice. “Anyways, you were saying?”

You’re grasping for straws here, trying to tie yourself down to the little sanity (and patience) you have as your frantic eyes try and find where you last left off, straying away every couple of words as Jack does nothing more than use his fingers to distract you. 

“Words, baby. Use your words,” he instructs, and it’s the sexist thing you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “We follow...”

“We follow..the people,” you falter, voice wobbly. “We follow the people in…”

Somewhere in that sentence, a hefty exhale blows past your mouth as Jack moves two fingers into you, the curl of them accentuating the end of your sentence with a moan. 

“Always sound so pretty with my fingers in you,” muses Jack, tone low and memorised as he works said fingers in and out of you, your slick building all around his fingers. “Can’t get enough of it.”

You do a subpar job of reading the next few lines as Jack’s fingers pick up the pace, moving deeper in you to milk every reaction you give him mixed in with your slurred words. Your attempt at remaining coherent diminishes completely when Jack’s lips find their way to your swollen clit, a light press of the lips against the hood of your clit before he’s sucking on the bud.

Your words come out in stutters, voice trembling pathetically as he wraps you around his fingers, making a mess of you in the form of kitten licks against your clit and nibble fingers coaxing your building orgasm out of you. His motions stop every time you get lost in the feeling of him sucking your clit, fingers tangled in his locks of hair. And with a whine, you compel with his previous instructions, reading along with the world’s prettiest distraction in between your legs. 

Somehow, you make it to the next page without much delay, Jack’s mouth trained on you as he laps up every bit of you, tongue drawing all kinds of figures against or around your clit. You’re clenching around his fingers more than you can forgive yourself for, body running hot as the sounds of your slick echo throughout the room, the pit in your stomach only growing.

“Just like that, princess,” he hums against your clit, the sensation drawing a tight-lipped whimper from you as your hips follow the vibration. “How many more pages until the chapter’s finished? I don’t think you’re gonna last long.”

And, it’s all true. Body twitching, toes curling and cunt spasming around his fingers that curl in you. Your brain can barely keep up at this point. “So many.”

Jack tsks, his thumb replacing his lips against your clit as he moves it in slow circles. “You think you can hold on till then?”

You answer truthfully, however embarrassing it may be. “No.” 

He laughs briefly when he hits that spongy part inside of you, your back bowing off the stacked pillows behind you as Jack continues to hit the exact spot that has you seeing stars. 

“How ‘bout a compromise?” Jack starts, your hips lifting to meet the insistent thrust of his fingers. “You tell me how badly you wanna come, and you get to ditch the book whilst I make you come. Sounds good?”

An awfully generous offer considering how your brain has turned to mush and can barely keep up with any of the inked words on the page right now. So, you agree. Enthusiastically.

“Please,” you mewl with a puckered forehead, gazing down at your beautiful boyfriend with his tousled hair and glossy lips. A sight for sore eyes. “Please, J. I wanna come.”

“How bad?” He doesn’t miss a beat, eyes challenge yours.

“So bad,” you keen when his other hand lays over your stomach, applying pressure to the spongy spot that teethers you on the very edge. “Fuck, it’s only you. Only you can…make me feel good. Please, J.” 

The begging works. It always works and with that, you drop your book, long discarded amidst the mess of the sheets as your fingers tangle in Jack’s hair as he sucks roughly on your clit again. Rocking up against his mouth, the angle of his fingers renders you completely at his mercy, uttering stuttery breaths as he brings you over the edge, applying pressure in all the right places because he knows your body better than you do, gushing slick flowing from you as you ride out your high, brain reduced to syrup. 

He doesn’t even wait before you’ve caught your breath that he sends you a flirtatious wink in between your quivering thighs. “So, opera date next week?”

[kentobb]

The Bet (Part Six)

Characters: College! Sukuna x Female Reader

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Emotional Damage. Yes, ladies and gentlemen… this is the moment. Mention of smut, virginity loss. Foul Language. Physical fight perhabs? Bullying. Etc etc

Author’s note: After this part, part 7,8 and 9 will come in around five (days). I’m still working 😭 and currently am in Belgium rn. But, reading your comments make my day and push me into writing 🩷 love yall

Part 01

Sukuna woke up the next morning to the gentle light of dawn filtering through the curtains. He turned to see you lying beside him, the blanket covering your naked body, your face peaceful and serene as you slept. His heart swelled with affection as he watched you, the events of the previous night replaying in his mind.

He reached out, gently caressing your hair, his fingers threading through the silky strands. Leaning in, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, savoring the quiet moment of intimacy. You stirred slightly but didn't wake, a small smile playing on your lips.

He carefully slipped out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants before quietly making his way to the kitchen. He found Yuuji there, already up and munching on a bowl of cereal.

"Morning," Yuuji said with a mischievous grin. "So…”

Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn't help but chuckle. "Shut up, idiot.”

Yuuji laughed, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Thought I heard some heavy furniture rearranging going on."

Sukuna shook his head, amused. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Yuuji shrugged, grinning. "Hey, someone's got to keep things interesting around here."

Sukuna prepared a pot of coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. He poured himself a cup and then set about making a hot chocolate for you, knowing it was your favorite. As he stirred the warm drink, he felt a sense of contentment and joy he hadn't known he needed.

Carrying the drinks carefully, he made his way back to the bedroom. The smell of the hot chocolate must have reached you, as you were starting to wake, eyes fluttering open. You smiled sleepily when you saw him, face lighting up with love.

"Good morning," you murmured, leaning up to kiss him.

"Morning," Sukuna replied, handing you the cup. "I made you your favorite."

You took the cup with a grateful smile, savoring the first sip of the hot chocolate. "Thank you, Kuna."

Sukuna sat down on the edge of the bed, watching you with a tender expression. "How are you feeling after last night?" he asked softly, his eyes filled with concern and love.

You blushed slightly, setting the cup down. "A little sore," you admitted, your voice shy but happy.

He leaned in, kissing your forehead gently. "My bad. I got excited. Stay in bed and rest. We will have a lazy day.”

You looked up at him, eyes shining with gratitude and love. "You don't have to do that, I know you have practice for the game."

"I want to," Sukuna insisted, his voice firm but gentle. "You mean the world to me, and I want to make sure you're okay. Plus, the game is in two days.”

You nodded, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. "Thank you."

Sukuna stayed in bed with you, despite knowing he was supposed to be at practice. His phone buzzed with calls from his teammates, but he quickly set it to "Do Not Disturb," deciding that nothing was more important than this moment with you.

He reached over to the bedside table, grabbed the remote, and turned on a movie. As the film started playing, he gently caressed your hair, his fingers moving softly through the strands. He watched you closely, observing the way your chest rose and fell with each breath, feeling the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his.

From the living room, he heard the jingle of keys and the familiar voices of Yuuji and Choso. "We're going out," Yuuji called out.

"Okay," Sukuna replied, knowing this meant he would have the apartment for himself.

He turned his attention back to you, a smile playing on his lips. "Looks like we've got the place to ourselves," he said softly, leaning down to kiss you.

You giggled, your laughter like music to his ears. "Good, I like having you all to myself."

Sukuna laughed, positioning himself on top of yoi, bodies fitting together perfectly. He kissed you deeply, connection palpable. As he pulled back, his eyes were filled with warmth and affection.

Trailing his hand down your thigh, he felt you shiver under his touch. He looked at you, seeing the same lust and desire in your eyes that he felt coursing through him. You gazed up at him, your eyes dark and inviting.

Sukuna bit his lip, struggling to contain his own desire. "You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "Good," you whispered, your voice teasing. "I like knowing I have that effect on you."

The playful banter was interrupted by another kiss, this one even more intense. Sukuna's hand continued to explore, moving with a gentle yet deliberate purpose. He felt you respond, your body arching towards his touch, your breath hitching in anticipation.

The movie played in the background, forgotten as you both lose yourself in each other. Every touch, every kiss, every whispered word brought you closer, deepening your bond.

Sukuna's hands roamed over your body, memorizing every curve, every reaction. He wanted to make sure you felt as cherished and loved as you made him feel. Your hands moved up his back, your touch sending shivers down his spine.

For a moment, he paused, looking into your eyes. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You nodded, your eyes shining with trust and love. "I'm perfect," you whispered.

With a smile, Sukuna leaned down and kissed you again, pouring all his feelings into that one moment.

The next day, Sukuna walked into basketball practice, feeling a noticeable spring in his step. The entire team was abuzz with excitement since tomorrow was the big game. And he needed to be his best since he already lost one day of practice. His teammates quickly noticed the change in him—he seemed different, almost glowing with a newfound energy and happiness.

As they warmed up, Geto and Gojo exchanged knowing glances. "Look at him," Geto whispered to Gojo. "Our boy looks like he's walking on air."

Gojo smirked. "About time."

The coach blew the whistle, signaling the start of their practice play. They ran through drills, the sound of sneakers squeaking on the polished floor and the thud of the ball echoing in the gym. The heat in the gymnasium soon had everyone drenched in sweat.

"Alright, shirts off!" the coach called out, and the players quickly complied, tossing their shirts aside.

As Sukuna pulled off his shirt, a collective gasp went through the team. His back was covered in red marks, clear evidence of a…passionate night. His teammates' eyes widened, and then, almost in unison, they broke into laughter and teasing.

"Damn, Sukuna! Those are some serious battle scars!" Geto hollered, slapping Sukuna on the back.

"Looks like someone had a fun night," Todo added, winking.

Gojo, standing nearby, couldn't help but laugh. "Sukuna, I didn't know you were into competitive sports off the court too," he teased, grinning widely.

Sukuna rolled his eyes but couldn't suppress his smile. "You guys are impossible."

Geto leaned in, pretending to inspect the marks more closely. "Those scratches… so you popped your cherry?”

Sukuna chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah.”

Gojo, still laughing, gave Sukuna a friendly nudge. "I'm happy for you, man. Seriously."

Sukuna felt a sense of relief wash over him. Despite the teasing, he knew his friends were genuinely happy for him. They knew him well enough to see that this wasn't just some girl—he was genuinely in love. And he was sure that you are the love of his life.

As practice continued, the teasing didn't stop, but it was all in good fun. Sukuna felt more connected to his team than ever. They ran through a practice play, working in perfect sync. Sukuna dribbled the ball down the court, passed it to Gojo, who feigned a shot before passing it back. Sukuna jumped, shooting the ball through the hoop with a perfect swish.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Yuuji cheered from the sidelines along with Choso, clapping loudly.

As they gathered for a break, panting and sweating, Sukuna couldn't help but feel a deep sense of gratitude. He had his team, his friends, and now, he had you. Life felt perfect…

Almost… too perfect.

The team had put in a solid practice session, and as the sun began to set, the coach blew the final whistle. "Alright, that's enough for today. Rest up for tomorrow's game. We need you all at your best," he announced.

The players dispersed, chatting and laughing as they grabbed their things. Sukuna gathered his gear, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation for the big game. He waved to his teammates and headed toward the locker room.

As Gojo watched Sukuna leave, he noticed a familiar figure lurking by the entrance. Mei Mei. He sighed, rolling his eyes, not particularly thrilled to see her. As Sukuna walked away, oblivious, Mei Mei approached Gojo.

"So," she began, her voice dripping with curiosity, "Heard they haven’t done it. That means that sooner or later I’m receiving that call…”

Gojo chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are out of the loop, aren't you? Isn’t a little weird that you’re obsessed with his sex life?” He sighed, “But if you really want to know… they did it. And guess what? He is still in love. So whatever idea you had… it just that… an idea.”

Mei Mei's confident facade cracked, her eyes widening in shock and hurt. "What?" she whispered, the reality of her lost opportunity sinking in.

Gojo stepped closer, his expression hardening. He was fed up with her games and manipulation. “This black mail of yours? You can shove it up your ass. I’m not doing this shit anymore. You can say and do whatever you want. You know why Mei Mei?” Gojo stepped even closer, “Because no matter what you do or say, Sukuna is never coming back to you.”

Mei Mei flinched, tears welling up in her eyes.

“You have been black mailing me foe two months and haven’t do shit…" Gojo cut her off, his voice icy and ruthless. "You had your chance, and you blew it. He's happy now, and nothing you do is going to change that. You're nothing to him. Just a mistake he made once. Move on and stop embarrassing yourself."

Her tears began to fall, her composure crumbling completely. "Does hurting a woman feeling makes you feel good, Gojo?”

"Pathetic, I can’t consider you one," Gojo spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "You think you can just waltz back into his life and everything will go back to the way it was? Grow up, Mei Mei. He's with someone who actually cares about him, who he actually cares about. You? You're just a bitter memory."

Mei Mei's sobs grew louder, but Gojo didn't let up. "Do us all a favor and disappear. No one wants you here. You're nothing but a toxic presence, and Sukuna deserves better than that. Better than you."

With that, Gojo turned and walked away, leaving Mei Mei standing there, her composure shattered. She stood frozen for a moment before slumping against the wall, tears streaming down her face as she cried silently in the corner.

Gojo didn't look back. He felt a sense of justice in finally telling her off. Sukuna deserved to be happy, and he wouldn't let anyone jeopardize that, especially not Mei Mei. As he caught up with the rest of the team, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders.

Or so he thought.

Mei Mei lay on her bed, tears streaming down her face as she replayed the harsh words Gojo had hurled at her. She felt a deep sadness, a gnawing regret that things had not gone as she had hoped with Sukuna. She felt uneasy, her heart heavy with the realization that she had lost him.

The door creaked open, and Utahime entered the room they shared. She walked over to Mei Mei's side of the bed and sat down gently. "Hey, what happened?" Utahime asked softly, her voice filled with concern.

Mei Mei looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "It's over," she said, her voice breaking. "Sukuna is in love with another girl. It's not me."

Utahime's heart ached for her friend. She tried to comfort her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Mei Mei.”

Mei Mei shook her head, tears still flowing. "I don't understand what he sees in her. She's the complete opposite of the type of girl he usually dates."

Utahime tried to soothe her but Mei Mei's sadness quickly turned into anger. Her fists clenched, and her expression hardened. "But if he wants to play like that, then lets do that. If I am loosing… he is loosing with me.”

Utahime's eyes widened with concern. "Mei Mei, what are you thinking?"

Mei Mei's eyes blazed with determination. "I'm going to tell her. I'm going to tell her about the bed.”

Utahime's heart raced with worry. "Mei Mei, do you think that’s a good idea? What are you gaining with that?”

But Mei Mei was resolute. "His lost.” She smiled through the pain.

Utahime could see the storm brewing in her friend's eyes, and she knew there was little she could do to dissuade her. She watched helplessly as Mei Mei's sadness transformed into a vengeful resolve.

"Please, Mei Mei, think about this," Utahime pleaded. "Hurting her won't make you feel better. It will only create more pain."

Mei Mei shook her head, her mind made up. "I don’t fucking care about her. This isn’t about you. This is about him.”

Utahime sighed, knowing that trying to stop Mei Mei would be futile. She could only hope that her friend would come to her senses before doing something she would regret.

Mei Mei stood up, wiping away her tears, her expression set in determination. "The game is tomorrow. I will give him revenge.” she declared, her voice filled with a mix of pain and anger, “In a cold plate.”

Utahime watched her friend leave the room, her heart heavy with worry.

The day of the big game had finally arrived, and the court was filled with people buzzing with excitement. The atmosphere was electric, the stands packed with cheering fans ready to support their team. Sukuna walked toward the court with you his side. You wore his jersey number proudly, your face adorned with makeup in the colors of his team.

"Good luck," you said, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. Sukuna pulled you closer, deepening the kiss and touching the heart locket he had given you. You smiled against his lips, feeling the warmth of his love.

"I love you," Sukuna whispered, his eyes locking with yours.

"I love you. I’ll be watching you," you replied, your voice filled with encouragement and affection.

Sukuna reluctantly let go of you and headed to the locker room, while you made your way to the stands to find your seat. You spotted Yuuji and Choso, who waved enthusiastically when they saw you. You hugged them both tightly, feeling a sense of camaraderie and support.

"Hey, you are here!” Yuuji exclaimed, grinning widely.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world," you replied, taking your seat beside them.

Choso leaned in, a playful smirk on his face. "Ready to see your boyfriend in action?"

You nodded, your eyes sparkling with excitement. "Absolutely. I know he's going to be amazing."

The game had just started, and the energy in the court was electrifying. Players moved swiftly, and the crowd's cheers echoed throughout the gym. Gojo was on the court with Sukuna, focused on the game. Suddenly, Gojo's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and saw a text message from Mei Mei:

Evil cunt: “Good luck finding a new friend 🩷.”

Gojo's eyes widened in shock as he looked up and scanned the crowd. His heart started pounding when he spotted Mei Mei making her way towards you. Panic set in as he realized what she was about to do.

"No fucking way.” Gojo muttered under his breath, his anxiety skyrocketing.

Sukuna noticed Gojo’s sudden change in demeanor. He followed Gojo's gaze and saw Mei Mei approaching you. Fear gripped him as he quickly put two and two together. Mei Mei knew about the bet and was going to tell you about it.

Sukuna’s heart raced as he made eye contact with Gojo. The unspoken understanding between them was immediate. Without a second thought, Sukuna sprinted off the court, pushing through the crowd to get to you.

Yuuji and Choso, watched in confusion as he suddenly sprinted off the court. You were bewildered, eyes following his hurried movements. In the midst of the commotion, Mei Mei slipped into the seat next to you, a sinister smile playing on her lips.

Yuuji's eyes widened in shock as he recognized Mei Mei. "What are you doing here?" he asked, suspicion lacing his voice.

Mei Mei ignored Yuuji and turned to you, pulling out a hundred-dollar bill and handing it to you. "Here, this is for Sukuna," she said sweetly, her tone dripping with malice.

You took the bill, confusion deepening. "What is this for?"

Mei Mei giggled, enjoying the unfolding drama. "It's for Sukuna. He won the bet."

Your eyes widened in shock. "What bet?"

Mei Mei's smile widened, turning vicious. "Gojo made a bet with Sukuna to hook up with the girl that nobody wanted." She looked at you up and down.

The color drained from your face as realization dawned. You were… a bet? Yuuji stood up abruptly, anger flashing in his eyes. "Get the fuck out!”

But before Mei Mei could respond, Sukuna arrived, his eyes locking onto you, holding the hundred-dollar bill, your face pale and your breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. He could see that you were starting to have a panic attack.

Mei Mei turned to Sukuna, her smile triumphant. "She needed to know the truth," she said smugly.

Sukuna's anger flared. "What was the point of that?” he demanded, his voice trembling with fury.

Mei Mei shrugged, her expression cold. "Now we've both lost something we love," she said simply, before turning and walking away, leaving chaos in her wake.

The crowd around them had gone silent, everyone watching the unfolding drama with morbid curiosity. Whispers spread like wildfire, and you felt the weight of their judgment, embarrassed and humiliated.

Sukuna stood there, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the scene fold. You clutched the hundred-dollar bill with your trembling hand, Sukuna felt a wave of panic wash over him. He had to fix this. He couldn’t let Mei Mei destroy everything.

Sukuna reached out to touch you, to comfort you but you slapped his hand away, your voice breaking as you spoke. "Don't. Just... don't."

Yuuji, still standing, tried to intervene. "Let's get you out of here," he said gently, looking at you with concern.

Choso joined hun, his expression serious. "Come on, let's go somewhere private."

He tried to approach you again, to say something, anything that would calm you down. “Hey, please. Let’s talk about this,” he pleaded, but you didn’t seem to hear him. Eyes were glazed over with pain and confusion, and you started to gather your things, your movements shaky and disjointed.

Sukuna’s heart broke as he saw you like this. He took a step closer, trying to reach out to you. “Please, don’t go. Just listen to me for a moment,” he begged, his voice trembling.

But you continued to walk away, your steps unsteady. Sukuna couldn’t bear it. He decided to go towards you, wrapping his arms around you in a desperate hug. You struggled against him, your hands hitting his chest as you cried out, sobs wracking your body. “Let go of me! Let go!” You screamed, your voice filled with anguish.

Sukuna held on, his own tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry. Please, I love you. Just listen to me,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

With a sudden burst of strength, you pushed him away, your hands trembling with rage and hurt. You slapped him hard across the face, the sound echoing in the quiet hallway. Sukuna stood there, stunned, his cheek stinging from the impact. He looked at you, his eyes filled with sorrow and desperation.

“I can explain,” he started, his voice cracking. “There was a bet at first, yes. But everything changed when I got to know you. I fell in love with you. The bet meant nothing. You mean everything to me.”

You shook your head, tears streaming down your face, ruining your makeup. “How can I believe you now? Everything was a lie. I was just a joke to you… I was just the virgin girl that you needed to fuck?” you spat, your voice filled with bitterness.

Sukuna took a step closer, his hands outstretched in a plea. “No, it wasn’t like that. I swear. You’re not a joke. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”

You turned away from him, your shoulders shaking with sobs. “I feel so stupid for believing in you. For thinking that someone like you could be with someone like me,” you cried, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna’s heart shattered at your words. He reached out, his voice desperate. “Please, don’t say that. I love you. I really do. Please, believe me.”

You touched the heart locket he had given you, your fingers trembling. It had been a symbol of his love, a promise he had made. But now, it felt like a cruel joke. Your hands shook violently as you grabbed the necklace, your knuckles white with the strain.

With a swift motion, you tore the necklace off and walked toward him. You thrust it into his hand, your eyes filled with tears and anger. “I don’t want to see you again,” you said, your voice breaking.

Sukuna stood there, the necklace heavy in his hand, feeling like the weight of his world had just collapsed. “Please, baby. Believe me.” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

But you had already turned away, walking down the hallway with your shoulders hunched, your sobs echoing in the silence. Sukuna watched you go, his heart aching with every step you took away from him. He wanted to run after you, to beg you to stay, but he knew it would only make things worse.

Sukuna stood there, heartbroken and unable to move, watching her disappear from his life. The weight of his mistake crushed him, and he felt a hollow emptiness where his heart used to be. His hands trembled, still clutching the necklace you had returned to him.

His teammates stood behind him, unsure of what to do or say. The silence was heavy, filled with the echoes of their confrontation. Gojo stepped forward, reaching out to comfort his friend. "Sukuna, I—" he began, but Sukuna pushed him away, his eyes filled with anger and pain.

Gojo covered his face, expecting a blow, but it never came. He lowered his hands and saw Sukuna breathing heavily, his chest heaving with suppressed rage and sorrow. The look in Sukuna's eyes was one of devastation, and it broke Gojo's heart to see his friend like this.

"We have a game to win," Sukuna said, his voice low and strained, trying to focus on anything but the overwhelming grief.

Geto approached cautiously, concern etched on his face. "Are you sure you'll be able to play?" he asked gently.

Sukuna didn't answer, his eyes staring blankly at the spot where you had stood. He turned and walked back towards the court, his teammates following silently. Yuuji and Choso exchanged worried glances, noticing the change in Sukuna's demeanor. The light that usually shone in his eyes was gone, replaced by a dark, burning anger.

As they returned to the game, Sukuna's rage began to manifest in his play. He was aggressive, his movements sharp and almost reckless. His teammates could feel the intensity radiating from him, a stark contrast to his usual composed self.

The game began anew, the energy in the gym electric with anticipation. Sukuna's focus was razor-sharp, but it was driven by a storm of emotions. He clenched his jaw, his muscles tense as he took his position on the court. The whistle blew, and the game resumed.

Sukuna moved with a fierce determination, his eyes locked on the ball. He intercepted a pass, charging down the court with a speed and aggression that left the opposing team scrambling to catch up. He drove to the basket, leaping into the air and slamming the ball through the hoop with a force that shook the backboard. The crowd erupted in cheers, but Sukuna's face remained stoic, his anger simmering just beneath the surface.

On defense, Sukuna was relentless. He blocked shots with a ferocity that left his opponents stunned, his movements almost violent in their intensity. He swatted the ball away, sending it flying across the court, and glared at the player he had just denied, his eyes burning with an unspoken challenge.

Yuuji and Choso watched from the sidelines, their concern growing with every passing minute. They had never seen Sukuna like this, and it scared them. He was playing to win, but the cost was evident in the raw intensity of his actions.

The game progressed, and Sukuna's relentless assault on the basket continued. He racked up points, each score a temporary distraction from the agony gnawing at his heart. The crowd cheered, but the noise barely registered in his mind.

His thoughts kept drifting back to you—the way you smiled when you were beneath him, the softness of your touch, the warmth of your embrace.

“I love you…”

And now, the way you walked away from him, the hurt and betrayal in your eyes cutting him deeper than any wound.

Sukuna's aggression on the court escalated, his anger spilling over. He pushed past defenders with more force than necessary, his movements almost violent. The opposing team tried to counter, but Sukuna was relentless, his need to drown out the pain driving him forward.

In the middle of the game, Sukuna found himself face-to-face with an opponent, their eyes locking in a silent challenge. The other player smirked, taunting Sukuna. "What's wrong, pretty boy? Got something on your mind?"

Sukuna's eyes darkened, and he drove forward, pushing the player aside with a force that sent him sprawling to the ground. The crowd gasped, and the referee blew the whistle, signaling a foul. Sukuna barely registered the call, his mind consumed by a whirlwind of emotions.

As he stood at the free-throw line, the weight of the game pressing down on him, Sukuna's hands trembled. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but the memories kept flooding back. He could see your face, the way you looked at him with love and trust, and then the way that trust shattered when you were told the truth.

He made the free throw, the ball sailing cleanly through the hoop, but the victory felt hollow. His teammates cheered, but Sukuna's heart remained heavy.

The game continued, each play a blur of movement and emotion. Sukuna's aggression showed no signs of abating. He played like a man possessed, his focus unwavering, but the cost was evident in the raw intensity of his actions. He collided with opponents, his body moving with a ferocity that left his teammates and coaches concerned.

The final minutes of the game were a whirlwind of action. Sukuna's team was in the lead, but the margin was slim. The opposing team mounted a fierce comeback, and the tension in the gym was palpable.

Sukuna took the ball, charging down the court with a determination that bordered on desperation. He dodged defenders, his movements almost reckless, and leaped into the air for a final shot. The ball sailed through the hoop, sealing the victory for his team.

The gym erupted in cheers, but Sukuna felt none of the triumph. He stood in the middle of the court, panting heavily, his mind still trapped in the moments that had just shattered his world.

His teammates surrounded him, their joy contrasting sharply with his hollow expression. Gojo approached cautiously, his earlier fear replaced with deep concern. "We won, man," he said softly, hoping to reach his friend. But Sukuna's eyes remained distant, his mind still trapped in the moments that had just shattered his world.

The celebration felt empty to Sukuna. He walked off the court, the cheers and applause fading into the background. The victory meant nothing to him now, not when he had lost the person who meant everything. You.

In the locker room, the atmosphere was somber despite the win. Sukuna sat on the bench, staring at the floor, the necklace still clutched in his hand. His teammates gave him space, understanding the depth of his pain.

Yuuji sat beside him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We're here for you, Sukuna," he said quietly. "We'll get through this."

Sukuna nodded slightly, but his heart was heavy with regret and sorrow. The game was over, but the battle within him had only just begun. The memories of you haunted him, a constant reminder of what he had lost.

See ya in a few days! <3