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thedamselzelda · 3 months

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Between Silk and Salvation

Author Chat: I was planning on uploading this during the weekend, but I finished it tonight and feel somewhat satisfied on how it turned out. Some of it was a little rocky to start but the longer I stare at it, the more I'm gonna fight with myself. So here it is!

Featuring: Dazai Osamu

Summary: Meetings. That seems to be the life of an executive—endless, tedious meetings. However, when one meeting arises unscheduled, it becomes riddled with emotions unbefitting of the Port Mafia's top assassin.

word count: 3.6k, fem!reader, pm!reader, sfw (mild cursing), mentions of blood, reader occasionally mentioned as "Hirotsu" and "Izanami", reader's eyes mentioned to be violet.

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You sat at the large conference table, absentmindedly grazing your freshly painted stiletto nails upon your lips. The voices around you droned on about the mafia’s business operations, a topic that held little interest for you. Your involvement was through your own unique means, leaving you unconcerned with the intricate details of the other executives’ affairs.

You glanced over at Chūya, who seemed equally disinterested in Ace’s elaborate over-explanation of how well his casino was performing. Chūya rolled his eyes and let out an exaggerated yawn, trying to provoke you into laughter. Since the two of you became friends, it became his mission to make you laugh during these tedious meetings. It was a relief to have someone on your side for once, rather than being feared or exploited.

“Izanami,” Mori’s bored tone broke your silent interaction with Chūya, pulling your attention back to the table. “What of the Starlight? How is business going for your casino?”

You met Mori’s gaze, your eyes briefly flicking to the empty seat on your left before returning to his. “The Starlight has had an extraordinarily successful year,” you began, your voice steady and confident. “We’ve seen a significant revenue growth of roughly 1.2 billion Yen, our customer satisfaction ratings are overwhelmingly high, and we are currently considering additional expansions.”

Mori gave a satisfied nod. You glanced down the table to Ace, smirking as you continued,

“Compared to your casino. So, I’d like to offer you an opportunity to see what contributes to a casino’s great success. However, I doubt it would do you much good as many of your patrons now frequent mine.”

“That’s only because you stole them!” Ace spat out; his teeth gritted in anger. He pointed a finger down the table past Kōyō. “You’ve touched them and now they have no choice but to come to you!”

You smiled, turning your chair to face him directly. You lean back, finally becoming amused with the meeting. “Oh, quite the contrary. My patrons feel safe within the walls of the Starlight, knowing I will not touch them unless they ask. The only people under my thumb in such a way are my men. Ask the Italian senator who used to frequent your establishment, or even the Japanese Vice Minister; they will tell you about our symbiotic relationship. They even spoke at the second anniversary of the Starlight’s opening.”

You leaned back, looking at Mori. “I even fondly recall the Minister of Economy raving about the ‘touch of luxury, yet extraordinarily inviting atmosphere that calls to him after a hard day’s work.’”

Mori closed his eyes, sighing. He started to speak, but Ace interrupted with a new complaint. “You come in here after a four-year vacation, incessantly acting as if you are better than the three of us, yet you only have the casino to show for it.”

“Well, I recall, Ace, that I earned my position compared to you who bought yours. So, out of the two of us, I’d say I have the slightly better reason to be at this table, wouldn’t you say?”

Ace promptly stood, his face reddening with anger. He began to stutter, unsure of what to say. “Y-you! I’ll make you regret being an insolent brat!”

“Oh, Ace,” you cooed, your eyes locking onto his with an icy calm, “I do look forward to the day when I can watch the life leave your eyes.”

His eyes widened at your statement, darting to Mori for support. You glanced back at Mori, curious about his response. He had his eyes closed; his mouth covered by interlaced fingers. You knew you were in trouble, but you didn’t care.

Ace lowly growled at the lack of support and stomped out of the conference room.

“Why do you insist on riling him up in such a way?” Kōyō called your name in question. You looked down at her, expecting a frown, but she was giggling behind her flowing sleeve.

“I thought we could do with some excitement. Besides, I only said the truth. I’m not sorry if it was hard to hear.” You shrugged. You looked over at Chūya, who was shaking his head.

“Yeah, smartass, but not every meetin’ we have should result in him stormin’ outta here.” Chūya groaned.

You gave a hollow laugh, “It’s still funny!”

“Chūya. Kōyō. You two are dismissed. Thank you for your efforts in continuing the Port Mafia’s success. I expect further good reports in the future.”

Chūya glanced at you. Oh, you’re in big trouble, his expression read. You smirked at him as he rose from his seat with Kōyō, the two of them bowing and leaving you behind with Mori.

You once again glanced down at the empty seat to your left. You frowned. You had attempted to sit in it during your first meeting back, as Mori had told you in private that you were now his most trusted executive; however, he still reserved a spot for Dazai. He was simply the Prodigal Son and Mori the father awaiting, praying for his safe return.

“You’re like him,” Mori said, breaking the silence. You gave him a confused look, as he was intricately inspecting the maroon silk scarf draped upon your shoulders.

“I’m nothing like him,” you replied with a disgusted tone, looking away and whipping your hair behind you. “Or I would have left by now. My goals are completely opposite of his.”

You sneered at Mori, “And I still intend on killing you one day. Something you've always feared he would do.”

Mori looked unamused by your promise, leaning back in his chair. His eyes stared into yours, as if searching your very soul. He ignored your statement, moving on to his next agenda.

“I have an assignment for you.”

You perked up slightly in your seat.

“I want you to watch over Akutagawa during his mission with Higuchi today.”

You let out a puff of air, sinking back into your chair. “Babysitting? Seriously?”

“You know how that boy is. I need him to bring this were-tiger in alive.” Mori stood up from his seat. “Also, you should know, we have reports that Dazai recruited that were-boy to the Armed Detective Agency.”

Your expression remained unchanged, but internally, you wanted to scream, unsure if it was from happiness or anger.

“So, Akutagawa holds a grudge against this boy whom he’s never met.” You sighed, keeping irrelevant comments to yourself. “Of course, he’s been constantly seeking Dazai’s approval since the beginning. Now, there’s another in his life, and Akutagawa isn’t going to let anyone stand in his way.”

Mori gave a short nod and began heading out of the back of the room.

“I won’t fail you, sir,” you called out as he reached the door.

He chuckled softly as he grasped the doorknob. “You haven’t yet.”

You stood from your seat and bowed as he left. After his departure, you grasped the seat next to you, pulling it out to sit, and rolling it up to the table. You frowned at the lack of feeling the spot gave you.

“You really shouldn’t be sittin’ in that seat, ya know?” Chūya's voice came from the doorway.

You huffed out a chuckle. “I thought I’d feel something, since Mori is so insistent the ‘chosen one’ will return.”

Chūya stood afar, leaning against the doorframe. “Just come on.” He began walking out, and you rushed to follow him.

The two of you walked side by side towards the elevator in silence. “What’d he say to ya now?” Chūya pressed the button to call the lift.

“Assignment. Babysitting,” you huffed out. “Also…” You wished you could have shoved him at that moment but refrained. “How could you not tell me Dazai joined that detective group?”

Chūya looked at you, confused. “What? How was I supposed to know?”

You shot him an irritated look as you stepped into the elevator and pressed your card against the scanner. The light indicated the floor of your penthouse. “Aren’t you other execs supposed to know more than me?”

Chūya leaned against the wall, shrugging. “Mori probably just didn’t find it relevant to tell us. You know how he is. Only informs on an ‘as need to know’ basis.”

You rolled your eyes, watching the floor numbers tick down to the thirty-fourth floor. Your leg bounced as you thought about him. Of course, he went and got another boy to follow him like a lost puppy. Typical. As the doors slid open, you stepped into your living room. Chūya followed, hanging his coat on the rack you kept just for him and exchanging his shoes for slippers. He watched as you continued to step inside without doing the same.

“Are we not stayin’?” he asked.

“No,” you replied, turning a corner into the hallway and pressing a code into a keypad. “I need to start making moves on this assignment. Akutagawa and Higuchi are attempting to get that were-tiger today.”

The wall shifted, revealing a collection of weapons and a box of disposable burner phones. You picked one up, turning it on and slipping it into your pantsuit pocket. Grabbing your personal phone, you dialed a number and pressed the phone against your ear.

“Yes, Izanami?” Higuchi’s voice answered.

“Meet me in the lobby in five,” you snapped, closing the phone.

You looked over at Chūya, who had already donned his coat, ready to leave with you. “Hey, Mori ‘s got me goin’ over West for a bit for an assignment. You gonna be okay without me?” He looked concerned, but you couldn’t take him seriously.

You scoffed, “I’ve managed without you before. I’ll be fine.”

He shot you an irritated look. You cocked your head to the side. “Oh, wait,” you laughed. “I’m sorry. You wanted me to respond differently. Okay, wait. I’ll try again.”

He groaned, watching you turn back around. You knew he hated your dramatic flair, but it was too much fun playing around with him. Turning back to him, giving your best impression of doe eyes, “Oh, Chūya~ How am I ever going to survive without you? Promise you’ll write and call every day!” You fanned the back of your hand over your head, placing your other hand over your heart, attempting to pout.

“Fuckin’ bitch, I hate you,” he murmured as he walked hastily into the elevator.

“Awe, I love you too!” you followed behind him, laughing.

You step into the elevator, smoothing the soft fabric around your neck, thinking back to Mori’s odd stare and comment in the meeting room.

“Am I like Dazai to you?” you asked, staring into the closed elevator doors.

Chūya cleared his throat, picking his words carefully. “I believe you two are—were… very like-minded. However, I think it’s only ‘cause what I said back in Italy.”

You’re the closest thing to death he can get, yet he’s the closest to life for you.

You pressed your lips together, unsure if you were happy with his response. The elevator dinged, and you stepped out, seeing Higuchi waiting in the lobby.

“Higuchi,” you called out.

She turned to meet your gaze, bowing as you approached. You noticed her hair was down and the top buttons on her shirt done.

“Why do you look like that?” you blurted out.

Chūya cursed under his breath, “Seriously?”

“It was an honest question,” you shrug.

Her expression remained unchanged. “I am headed to infiltrate the Armed Detective Agency as Akutagawa planned. Was there something you required?”

You nodded, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the burner phone, holding it out to drop into her hand. “Boss said your phone was compromised. He ordered me to give you this new one.”

She looked surprised but handed over her old phone as you dropped the new phone into her hand. “I had no idea. No one told me.”

“Exactly why I’m here! Take this one, and I’ll take your old one.” You dropped the burner into her hand and took her phone. “Hope the mission goes well!” you added in a fake cheery tone.

“This personality doesn’t suit you,” Chūya remarked after Higuchi bowed to you, taking her leave.

You turned to frown at him. “Says the one who didn’t like my response earlier.”

He rolled his eyes, asking, “What’s the point in the switch anyway?”

“So, I can hear their every move,” you replied.

With one leg over the edge of the roof, you leaned back looking up at the sky. The alley below was set to be the stage for Akutagawa’s attempt at capturing this were-tiger boy, though, you doubted his ability to refrain and keep him alive. Precisely why Mori had instructed you to follow.

You barely looked down, seeing Higuchi’s blonde hair enter your peripheral. She had three individuals with her; a boy with ginger hair, a raven-haired girl, and one who you assumed to be the were-tiger. You leaned back up, crossing your legs together.

Higuchi pulled her hair back, then unbuttoned the first few buttons on her shirt. That was the Higuchi you knew. However, you rolled your eyes at her reveal. What kind of disguise was that? The missions you had gone on before forced you to physically to alter your image. Once even dawning hazel eye contacts, as the target preferred girls with them. Dazai hated it. He complained every time he saw you in them, saying, “But your violet eyes are so pretty! Like beautiful belladonnas in full bloom!”

You deeply sighed, closing your eyes. Distractions by him in this moment were the last thing you needed. You needed to focus with the task at hand.

Gunfire erupted from the alleyway.

“The fuck?!” You glance down, watching Higuchi aimlessly firing at the three. The girl of the group jumped out in front of the older boy, crumbling to the ground. You tilt your head, frowning. That would be a nice way to go, you think. Especially if they are lovers. You curiously watched on, as the boy used his ability. It stretched upwards, but not far enough for it to reach you. Higuchi look around in confusion, compared to your view showing the playfield. The boy cautiously wandered throughout his ability.

“And here I thought,” you whip your gun from its holster, aiming it toward the voice, “it was Akutagawa who normally skulked about on the roofs of buildings.”

You felt like your eyes were deceiving you, but if what you had been told were true, then it wasn’t abnormal for him to show up as he has. Staring at him for a moment, you take notice his new attire and the absence of the bandages that once hid his right eye. His caramel eyes now showed a new life to them, a different sparkle to them compared to when it was just the two of you together. Drifting down to the ugly bolo tie that adorned his neck, you stared daggers into the brooch you bought him for his promotion to executive. You leave your painful analysis of him there, afraid if you looked at him any longer you would simply not be able to contain yourself.

You roll your eyes, clicking the safety back on and returning the gun to your holster. “Yet here you are joining me, Dazai.”

His name fell from your lips harshly, biting back at you in your head. He cocked his head to the side, allowing his brown fluffy locks to fall from his face. He gave you a soft smile, “Hmm, so we’ve gone back to formalities? Okay then, Hirotsu. Or wait, do you prefer to be called Izanami now?”

He gave a cheeky smirk as you shot daggers into him. Truthfully, you wanted to jump from your position, grasp him by his neck and kiss him until the two of you passed out or died from the lack of oxygen. You fought internally with yourself, knowing that is the worst way for you to act right now. So, instead, you remained seated, turning away from him to avoid him seeing the creeping heat rise to your face. He has such a punchable face—no, a squeezable face—no, a kiss—.

You feel him standing next to your arm now, causing you to look up to your left. You squint your eyes to see him, and he adjusts, so his shadow allows you to see him properly.

“Mind if I sit with you?” He speaks softly to you, an open gentleness that must have only come with his departure.

“I really should be killing you.” You look away huffing out an exhale, gazing back down into the alleyway. He sits down next to you anyway.

Akutagawa has shown up now, saying something to the were-boy placing him into a state of despair.

“You happy you’ve made Akutagawa all jealous?” You joke. It’s the only thing you can manage to say.

He laughs, “Atsushi has honestly been a way better apprentice than I could have asked for. Akutagawa sought too much from me.”

You scoff, “That boy has literally worshipped the ground you walk on since the day you picked him up from the slums.”

“You mean when we did.” He corrects, matter-of-factly. He quickly moves away from the subject. “I see you got your present.”

He reaches to touch the silk draped over your shoulders, but you slap his hand away without looking.

“Mori hand delivered it. Along with the news of your defection.” You don’t meet his gaze, but you can feel his mood tense. You guess you are getting into this now.

“I…” Dazai looks down at the fight now occurring between Akutagawa and the boy he introduced as Atsushi. He was screaming, Atsushi, over the loss of his leg. He was writhing in pain as his blood seeped and stained the concrete below him.

You frown and mutter, “What a useless apprentice.”

“Just wait.” Dazai leans forward. You do as well, watching the boy transform into a white tiger. You gawk, surprised that the reports were true.

“I guess I stand corrected then.” You lean back, pushing off the ground. You look down at Dazai. You take notice that he was hiding something from your view.

“What are you doing?” You press your hands onto his shoulders, instantly forgetting the four years of lost time. “My phone!”

You reach for it, swiping at air as he stretches it out of your reach. Your chest now rests upon his back as you press further to grab it.

“Woooow, I had no idea you and the slug would be such good friends after I left.” He teases as he continues to keep the phone from your reach. You began to get flustered as you fought with him.

“G-give it back, bastard!” You grasp around with your left hand, pressing it into his face as you reach forward to grab your phone. He elicits an “Mmph!” as your hand pushed into his face. You manage to grab onto his hand and pull it toward you.

“Getting right to things I see.” He jokes past your fingers, allowing you to feel a smirk across his lips. He released the phone when you growled in frustration. “I was just putting my new number in. No need to get so worked up.”

“And why would I want that?” You push him, harder than you intended, rising once more to your feet. Sure enough, his name and new number were displayed on the screen. You huffed, changing his name quickly from “O <3” to “Walking Red Flag��.

“I just want to talk to you. I want to explain what happened." He paused, eyeing you placing your hand on your hip. You eye him suspiciously.

"Pretty please?” He pouted, giving you the puppy eyes he knew you could never resist. However, that was before. You were a different person now. You had fallen too deep into the persona that was the Port Mafia's Izanami that you had somewhat left behind the girl that Dazai once knew. The girl that confided in him; the one who had fallen harder once he fell for you.

"You had your chance. You left. And he's dead because of you." You steel yourself as you stand on the edge of the building, ready to jump down below. You watch as Akutagawa toys with the boy.

Glancing back at Dazai, he's now stood up next to you. You take notice of his downtrodden face and begin to feel a pang of guilt. You had read the reports of what occurred with Mimic; however, much had been left out about Dazai's defection and Oda's death. So, you would only be able to bridge those gaps by talking with the one who was in the room where it happened. So did you really mean your harsh words? No, but you were hurt. Surely with the immense amount of intellect he had, he would know you couldn't just move on with him after four years of no contact.

You sigh, "Fine. Just to talk."

He looks up at you, his eyes still sad but now showing a hint of a smile once more. "I'd really like that."

You find yourself smiling back at him, the familiarity of his presence chipping away at your icy exterior. You take a step back, your heel teetering off the edge. "Just make sure your messages are coded. Can't have Mori getting jealous of me."

"Of course, bella. I remember," he smiles, the old nickname rolling off his tongue with practiced ease as he slips his hands into his jacket pockets.

Maybe, you thought, the Prodigal Son had finally found salvation. But for you, hell would be awaiting you with open arms, as you leaned back off the roof and into the battlefield below.

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Author Notes: So, I just now realized that it might be important to explain why the reader is called Izanami. As alluded in this and previous installments, reader has the ability to touch someone and "create" their death. More will be explained later in future installments, but I felt it important to note here, because it is not reader's technical name. In Japanese folklore, Izanami is the queen of the land of the dead, and is better known as the Goddess of Creation and Death. Reader, upon being born, killed her mother because of her ability, and when she became a tool for the Port Mafia (before and after Mori's rise), she was dubbed Izanami. Hope this helps a little when reading the story! :)

Last but not least, I'm SUPER EXCITED to get into the meat of the story now that we've set up a little bit of reader. I plan to also attach the music that's helped inspire a lot of the next couple of installments. At the time, I don't know if I'll leave the story open ended or if I'll wait to continue as more of the manga comes out since the next season is not coming out anytime soon. But do not be dismayed! Beast!Dazai has already been accumulating in my mind and I have fun tales to tell for that as well.

Thank you for reading! Like and follow (also feel free to reblog! <3) until next time!

#bsd x reader #bsd x you #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x y/n #bsd #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs

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sukunasweetheart · 1 year

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Where the Petals Cascade - Chapter One

Synopsis & Masterlist

Tags; slowburn, eventual smut, eventual romance, contract marriage, lots of sexual tension, manipulative & womaniser sukuna, potential angst, mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of gambling, lots of flirting, fake relationship trope.

Word count; 12k

01. Chapter One.

Malevolent Casino - a brand easily recognised by the public. The rising popularity of this casino company is no secret to the world. And the way they’re topping the casino industry only adds to the wealth held by the man that possesses this establishment that’s tainted with the misery of others. Gambling– everyone loves to shun the topic of it out in the open, but when times are tough and a good rush of adrenaline is needed, guess where people drift towards?

Sukuna put out the light on his cigar as he gazed upon his company’s revenue from last year, printed out on the document he held up in his hand. The incredibly significant numbers put a smile to his face. Earning money off of the pathetic men and women that have crippling addictions - all of them being regulars at his facilities - there is no better source of income for a person like Sukuna than this.

But still…he felt as though he was always missing something.

Though the amount of money being raked in was quite remarkable, there was a lack of exponential growth seen in the company’s annual revenue in the past few years. In some, there had even been a slightly concerning and noticeable decrease.

It had taken Sukuna a little bit of pondering to realise what it was that his company lacked - a good public image. Perhaps it was due to how his business emerged from the darker part of society; a flawless reputation had been something that was the least of Sukuna’s concerns back when he’d began making his way to the top.

He definitely wasn’t about to let his business flicker out like a dying flame in a decade or so. A plan was to be devised.

…And thus, this finalised plan of his brings him to this small, yet refined bar in a more remote and quiet part of the city.

Sitting at the bar counter alone, you bask yourself in the slow music that echoes around, taking the final sip from your almost-empty glass. There are very few customers around in your vicinity, and perhaps only a little bit of muted chattering can be heard in the distance from where you remain.

Just as you’re about to ask the bartender for another, he brings you a drink that you have no memory of ordering.

“The gentleman over there requested this for you,” he voices, noticing your expression of inquiry. You turn to see a man wearing an expensive looking crimson suit, giving you a small smile from across the room. Ominous looking tattoos adorn his face, but they compliment his pink, gelled up hair quite well. You politely smile back at him, and turn to the front again.

Judging from its colour and scent, you can guess what kind of drink it is. You can’t really say that it’s your favourite.

A few minutes after, footsteps resound from behind - and a deep, velvety voice calls out to you.

You look up and meet the man’s eyes.

“Not a fan of whiskey?” he asks, smoothly taking the empty seat beside you.

“Unfortunately not,” you respond, swirling the glass cup’s contents around mindlessly with your hand.

“Apologies for that. What kind of drink do you prefer?”

“...A dry martini would be nice,” you tell him, reflecting his flawless falsified smile.

The pink haired man gives a little nod to the bartender, and he is soon on his way to mix up another drink for you.

“And I’ll help myself with this one, in your stead.”

He reaches out for the glass in your hand, and as he closes the distance between his and your body, the scent of his cologne seems to disperse into the air around you. You watch his fingertips graze your hand ever so slightly, while he takes the whiskey away.

“Would you believe me if I said I’d fallen in love at first sight?” he responds with a humorous undertone.

“You’re quite the fine gentleman. What business would you have with a lady like me tonight?”

Sukuna lets out a boyish chuckle - the only genuine reaction you’ll be getting out of him today.

It was your turn to let out a small laugh.

He faces you with a smirk, and you notice the way he taps his finger against the surface of the counter.

“Certainly not. You don’t seem like the type,” you tell him.

“Oh? And why is that?” He takes a sip from the glass of whiskey.

“You don’t strike me as a very sentimental man.”

“I wouldn’t say that you’re entirely incorrect. But I’m not as emotionless as you may think.”

You meet his eyes once again. It’s incredibly difficult to tell when this man is lying.

“Is that so,” you say, giving him a look of intrigue.

Moments later, your martini finally arrives, which you’re quite happy to see.

“I don’t believe so. The Golden Rose Enterprise has been a vastly successful business, ever since you took over.”

“Malevolent Casino, is it? The name of your company,” you ask as you take the drink into your hand.

“An honour that you know of it. Especially from someone of your calibre,” Sukuna says, unsurprised that you’d caught onto him.

“You flatter me.”

You force out a courteous smile.

“I’ll assume that we’re skipping over the self introductions,” he continues speaking.

“Feel free to contact me when you’re ready. I’ll be happy to take you out for dinner.”

“It’s true that I approached you with an offer in mind that you may find interesting,” Sukuna informs, eyeing your reactions carefully.

“Apologies, but I don’t usually tend to talk about business when I’m around alcohol.”

“That’s fine by me,” he says, reaching into the inner pocket of his suit. What he pulls out is a business card.

He then finishes up the remaining whiskey in his glass in one go and stands up to pay for the both of you. Before he excuses himself however, he comes over to you one last time.

“Business is business, but…”

Sukuna leans down closer to you, his face being inches away from yours.

“I’m not fuckin’ around when I say that I’m interested in you too. I don’t just buy drinks for anybody,” he tells you in a low voice. The sudden tonal shift from being overly formal to the crude language is indeed something you weren’t expecting. An unexplainable shock runs down your spine. Seeing your widened eyes grant him satisfaction, and he smirks as he gazes down at you while still hovering close to your face for a few more seconds.

He moves back away, and puts his hands into his pockets.

“It would be nice to get to know you better. I’ll be looking forward to seeing you again,” Sukuna tells you, as he begins to walk away.

“Have a good evening.”

You’re left alone with the drink that he’s bought for you, and the black business card that still holds the scent of his cologne. You chuckle cynically at yourself, looking at the number that's printed on it.

The man sure knows how to linger in someone’s thoughts.

Meanwhile, outside of the bar, Sukuna hums as he walks over to his car. Easy. A bit too easy.

He’s casted out the bait - now all he shall do is wait for you to bite onto it.

A little over a week has passed since then - and frustratingly enough, he has heard nothing from you as of yet. He spins the pen in his hand at his desk, while he rests his chin against his other palm lazily. He’s certain that he had indeed grabbed your attention that night. What could be the reason for this radio silence? Are you shy? Overly cautious? Too busy?

That last possible reason ticks him off a bit. You’re not the only one running a successful business here. You think he’s not busy?

His thoughts are interrupted when a knock comes at his door.

“Come in,” he states firmly, not moving from his current position. Uraume, his secretary, enters the room shortly after. They walk up closer to where his desk is, and stops to stand a few metres away.

“What is it?” he asks them, continuing to fiddle with that pen in his hand.

“I’ve received a report saying there’s been a bit of a dispute between an employee and a regular customer, sir. The customer is giving threats to sue the company, and the employee sustained an injury from an object that was thrown at him. I thought it’d be best if you knew about it.”

“Is he a VIP customer?” Sukuna asks immediately.

“No, sir.”

“Then he’s nothing to worry about. If he takes it to court like an idiot, send one of our lawyers to the case. He’s injured one of the staff - he’s unlikely to win.”

“Yes sir.”

He stops fidgeting with the pen.

“How’d they end up dealing with him?”

“He was escorted outside by the security guards - by force.”

“By force, huh…”

That’s right…

If you won’t look his way, he can just force you to.

“Uraume. You wouldn’t mind if I went on a little break, would you?”

This is your favourite part of the day.

Sitting down at your large desk, signing off a few papers quietly whilst the steam rises from the piping hot cup of tea that rests close to you. Right after finalising these few documents, you’ll get to sip on it and take a little break from your work…Or so you thought. Three sharp knocks resound from the door.

“Yes? Please come in,” you call out.

The person that emerges from the entrance is Nanami, your most competent secretary.

“It seems there’s a significant guest visiting the hotel today, ma’am. The manager requests your presence in greeting this person,” he informs you.

“Significant guest? I don’t recall there being any VIP bookings today,” you respond, standing up from your seat and walking over towards him.

“He booked in moments prior, and also applied for the VIP membership today. Paid on the spot.”

“...Impressive,” you relent, already having an educated guess on who this person may be.

The two of you make your way down to the hotel lobby, where you’re faced with a few slightly panic-stricken employees of yours, all of them making way for you to approach this new “significant guest” of yours.

Sukuna smiles triumphantly as you make your appearance, being blatant about his pride in his presence that requires a personal greeting from the CEO herself.

“Good afternoon, sir. To what do I owe this pleasure?” you say, standing before him.

“There’s no need to be so formal. I just thought it’d be nice to spend my day off somewhere… extravagant.”

He scans his surroundings, pretending to be interested in the interior decoration and furnishing of the lobby.

“I see. Then allow me to accompany you to your VIP suite,” you tell him with a polite smile. Nanami receives the key for Sukuna’s room while you dismiss the employees that are gathered around the front desk - getting them on their way to greet the other guests coming in.

“Nanami - you can head back up and finish your paperwork for the day,” you instruct the man as you take the key from his hand, “I can guide him by myself.”

“Yes ma’am.” He makes a short bow and excuses himself first.

You turn to look at Sukuna, who seems to be pleased with your decision to send everybody else away.

“Well then. Shall we be on our way?”

“Certainly.”

He follows you close behind all the way to a private elevator that is separate from the ones taken by regular guests.

The elevator arrives with a ding, and both of you step inside of it once the doors slide open.

“From my understanding…you’re not here simply for a nice hotel experience, are you?” you ask Sukuna, who is watching the floor numbers on the monitor go down as the two of you wait for its arrival.

“Such keen observation, as usual. You are correct.”

Bullshit, Sukuna thinks.

“I assume then, it’s got something to do with my lack of response to your proposal that other day.”

“So you’re aware. I thought you’d forgotten all about me, with the way I was left waiting.”

“I do apologise. The week has been rather busy for me, but I promise to come by soon enough.”

“Very well,” he replies, turning to you with a pretentious smile.

“In the meantime, it would be nice if I could show you around - especially since you came all the way here,” you suggest to him. “Please let me treat you to some lunch.”

“I look forward to it.”

Upon entering the suite, you make a quick tour of the room for him, ignoring the couple of underhanded compliments he gave every now and then regarding the interior design. A very particular person, he is. Though a large majority of it was done out of spite; he was, truthfully, quite impressed by the quality. There was no luggage that he’d brought with him today, considering how he was only spending one night here, so the room tour ended pretty quickly and you were soon bringing him along to the restaurant, down the building.

As the name of your company suggests - the colour gold seems to linger around at every turn they take, being draped over a lot of the furnishing and architecture. He can’t shake off the feeling that it might be a little excessive. After passing through the hallways, the two of you finally get to the hotel’s dining room. A waiter comes around and formally introduces themselves, before handing over two menu lists after leading you to an appropriate table for two.

“What would you like to eat? We have quite a broad list of options that you can choose from.”

He skims over the various dishes listed on the laminated sheet before making a quick decision on the Filet Mignon, with tomato soup and a bread roll as the appetiser. You decide to have the same thing.

“You seem pretty excited,” you comment, gazing over at him with an amused look on your face.

“Of course. Eating is one of the greatest pleasures of life,” he states with confidence, eyeing the perfectly polished cutlery on the table, “don’t you agree?”

“Undoubtedly. Which is why we only hire the best chefs for our hotel dining.”

“I’m not too difficult to satisfy when it comes to food, so you don’t need to get too nervous,” he tells you. This evokes a genuine chuckle out of you. He really likes eating – is a mental note that you make in your head quietly.

Sukuna eats in a very satisfying way-- he eats tidily, but is not shy to clean everything off the plate. You can’t help but appreciate his table manners. You pour a glass of the tropical fruit juice for him. When questioned ‘Why not wine instead?’ - he’d replied with ‘It’s too bright outside for alcohol,’ which came off as a surprise to you.

What he notices from you, is the way you seem to be closely analysing him. For what purpose? A few ideas do come to mind. But he can tell you’re not doing it with malicious intent. He accepts the juice that you offer him.

“Do you have a lover, Mr. Ryomen?” you ask him, out of the blue. It even takes him aback, a little bit.

“...Would it please you if I said no?” Sukuna shoots back, having his interest piqued from your sudden query.

“It most certainly would,” you say with a small smile. He can’t really read into what you’re trying to do here.

Outwardly, there is little change in his demeanour. Continuing to cut up his meal, he watches as the blood oozes out from the pink and tender meat inside– something that he most appreciates, when it comes to having his steak rare.

“Would it be alright for me to visit you at your room tonight?” you say.

Your abrupt assertiveness is nothing less than…puzzling. But it wouldn’t really hurt to play along with you for now.

“A rather…sudden initiative, on your part. Can I ask why?”

“There’s no need to read too deep into it. I’ve been meticulously planning something for a while now,” you put your cutlery down onto the table, “and I think you might find it appealing.”

It’s not often that Sukuna gets curious about something, or someone.

“I’m happy to listen to your proposal as well, of course. I’m confident it will fit well into mine.”

Sukuna takes his last bite of the steak and also puts his knife and fork down.

“Quite a bold claim to make, considering how I haven’t told you what I want yet…” he wipes his lips down with a serviette and neatly folds it up. “...But sure. I’m eager to hear what you have in mind.”

He just hopes it won’t be a waste of his time.

The two of you continue to make aimless small talk as dessert comes around, before you have to eventually excuse yourself to continue your office duties.

“I hope you enjoy the rest of your day, Mr. Ryomen. I’ll come by at around 8pm, tonight,” you tell him, standing up from your seat and making a quick glance at your wristwatch.

“Right. I’ll see you then,” he replies, and proceeds to watch as you walk off, each elegant step followed by another.

Sukuna knows - it won’t be easy work manipulating you, from the looks of it. He plans to start off small; offer to work in collaboration with you, only to slowly start making his way further into your prized possession– Golden Rose Enterprise– like a poison that spreads through the veins. Whether it’s through seizing your love and affection, or grasping tightly onto a weakness of yours - he’ll let you decide on that.

For now, all he needs to do is find a way to kill the time before 8pm arrives. Perhaps he should call for an in-room massage later?

By the time you reach your office once again, your pitiful cup of tea has gone terribly cold. You get someone to dispose of it for you.

Ryomen Sukuna… the man seems to be plotting something. You knew from the very moment he reached out, that he was up to no good. Him and his company are both quite infamous - just as your hotels are known for their flawless reputation and transparency, Sukuna’s business is known for their questionable public image. Though there hasn’t been any real trouble that’s arisen as of yet, the rumours that they’re roped into aren’t pleasant at all.

And not to mention the CEO himself…

Eccentric, temperamental, yet also intelligent and charismatic; this is what your research on him tells you so far. A long history of scandals involving various female celebrities, the man has lived through quite a dramatic love life if what the articles say are true.

But, well, you’re not that particularly worried. You finish signing off the remaining papers at your desk.

You’ll put him on a leash, before he puts one onto you. You print off a copy of your well put together, finalised contract, and slide it into an A4 envelope, sealing it shut. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.

At ten minutes to eight, you’re ready to head into his room, where you shall reveal your cards to him.

Meanwhile- Sukuna, in his VIP suite- has just finished up his shower and makes an effort to dry his hair with a towel taken from the hanger. He then hums as he feels up the material on the pitch black bathrobe he finds on the sink counter, neatly folded and ready for use. After donning the robe, he emerges from the bathroom at good timing as he hears someone at the door.

It hardly seems surprising to you, when he opens up shamelessly wearing the hotel’s bathrobe that presents his collar bones in a lascivious way, still looking a little moist from his shower. You ignore all of that, and look up at him, who smirks down at you, in all his arrogance.

“Good to see you. Come on in,” he tells you with nonchalance, stepping off to the side to make way for you.

“It’s good to see you making yourself comfortable. How do you like this room?” you ask, sitting down on one of the sofa seats at the coffee table.

The two of you exchange polite smiles. He notices the envelope in your hands.

“Nothing less than what I’d expected, from a five star hotel,” Sukuna says as he takes the seat on the other side of the table.

“That’s great news.”

“Well then. I’ll get straight to the point,” you begin.

“Why don’t we get married, Sukuna?”

You call him by his name, for the first time. And additionally, you see his expression of surprise for the first time as well.

“...What?”

You give him a look that makes it obvious that you were expecting this kind of response.

Sukuna seems to still be processing the idea, hanging his head as he leans back against the sofa seat.

“...I understand that reaction. But I’m not saying this as a joke,” you tell him, holding back a chuckle from seeing his dumbfounded response.

“Have you ever heard of what a marriage of convenience is?” you ask.

“And? On what grounds are you asking someone you met a week ago to marry you? Even if it is out of convenience,” he questions, his real personality beginning to show itself to you.

“You’re like the last puzzle piece for my final picture. There’s a lot that I’d like to gain from you and I’m sure there’s a lot you want from me – isn’t that why you approached me at the bar?”

Sukuna regains his composure and narrows his eyes at you.

“Putting aside your needs for now…how can you be so sure about my demands? Enlighten me.”

“I did have a couple of guesses on what they could’ve been. A company that’s already at the peak of the casino industry. What exactly could you be missing?” you speak confidently.

“And my answer ended up being…reputation. Your numbers are consistent, but they’re not accumulating as much as you’d like them to, are they? Perhaps due to a lack of new members at your casinos. The ones that are already hooked may continue to spend money, but a flawed public image is preventing you from gaining new customers. Even a small shortcoming like that is enough to cause problems in the future.”

Sukuna has a fascinated grin that he covers with the palm of his hand. You’re… interesting.

“Which is presumably why you’d want to work with a company that is known for having a perfect reputation. I’m sure partnering up with me would improve it, albeit a little, just by association.”

“You have me backed into a corner,” Sukuna lies, running a hand through his hair at a languid pace.

“But that still doesn’t explain why we should have to get married does it?” he voices carefully.

"We recently finished remodelling our hotel wedding venues. I want to promote it in a more flamboyant manner. What better way than to get married myself?"

An unlikely couple such as yourself and Sukuna would gain a lot of attention; especially from how he’s already well known by the public. You’ll create the grand facade that he’d ‘changed for the better’.

"You’re able to go as far as marriage for the sake of your business?" Sukuna asks with a raised eyebrow.

You look at him straight in the eyes, mouth set in a straight line, and arms crossed.

"Yes, I am."

Witnessing your sincere determination, Sukuna goes from slightly doubting your plans, to acknowledging that you have ambition worth recognising. You’re not very sane at all.

“Alright. Let’s say that’s fair enough. What else would you want from me beyond that?”

A glint shows up in your eyes, as if you’d been waiting for this question this whole time.

“...As the CEO of a casino company, you’d have a long list of top secret VIP customers.”

Sukuna immediately understands where this is heading towards.

“That I do.”

“Our hotels have been doing perfectly fine with our usual guests, but there’s been a bit of a decline with attaining new VIP members recently. My main goal is to snatch up a few from your list using, hopefully, a bit of your influence.”

He crosses his arms and falls silent for a few moments.

“Objectively speaking, having our companies collaborate would create a rift in Golden Rose’s image. But that’s something I’m willing to sacrifice if everything goes smoothly.”

“Is reputation the only benefit I’m getting from this marriage?”

“Why, of course not. Since it’s not new for hotels to have casinos near, or even inside them, I thought it’d be nice if we made a collaboration. As you would know - next to my main hotel, I own another building. We can renovate, and insert new slot machines as you see fit. Funded entirely by me.”

A spark of intrigue gleams over his eyes. Tempting offer indeed.

“I’ve written up a contract as reasonable as I could make it, outlining the details of our marriage, including a few rules and regulations, and what to do if we end up wanting to divorce, for whatever reason,” you say as you slide over the envelope towards him on the coffee table.

So she meant it when she said she was preoccupied this week… Sukuna thinks to himself. Writing up a contract takes quite a lot of energy, after all.

"I'll look forward to hearing back from you again."

"...Give me some time. I'll consider it," he finally tells you, leaning back and crossing his legs after much contemplation.

"Wonderful." You stand up from your seat and look down at him with a smile.

When you're a few steps to getting to the door, Sukuna speaks up again from behind you.

"Aw, leaving so soon? I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night here with me," he teases - with a smirk that you can hear in his voice.

"...Thank you for the offer, but I'll have to decline. Have a good night."

He hears you leave, with the sound of the door opening and closing.

“Tch. What a prude way of saying no.”

Aren’t you a little too cold for someone who aims to be his lawful wife?

No matter - he’ll find one way or another to get under that awfully polite attitude of yours.

The contract is actually quite reasonable and fair for both parties, and Sukuna hates to admit so. You worked on this alone? Or maybe you had that stuck up of a secretary helping you behind the scenes.

Either way, upon having his own lawyer review it for him after carefully reading through it himself, he has decided that he will take you up on this offer - and participate in this marriage of convenience.

It makes things easier for him, after all. This will skip him a lot of steps, and you’ll be closer to his reach, making it simpler to play around with you as he pleases. Not to mention; the contract states that if the wedding doesn’t happen, all negotiations are off the table. Clever of you to make it an ‘all in or nothing’ type of agreement.

Today’s the day where he’d already arranged another meeting with you at one of his private restaurants, where he anticipates seeing your pretty face again, since it’s been a little over a week.

Uraume opens the car door for him, and he steps outside without a hitch.

He’s a little elated to find you already sitting inside, gazing out the window as you’re at the fancily decorated table. You’re dressed in a quite eloquent outfit, perfect for a day like this, where the petals are carried away from cherry blossom trees, even by the gentlest of breezes.

“How impolite of me to keep a lady waiting,” Sukuna says as he approaches you, “apologies for the late arrival.”

“Not at all. It’s a habit of mine to show up at least ten minutes before any appointment. You’re actually on time,” you tell him, looking at the watch on your wrist.

“...Quite the courteous habit to have.”

Sukuna’s private restaurant specialises in Japanese cuisine, which explained the various platters of sushi and sashimi that were soon getting placed onto the table, shortly after his arrival. He lets you take the first mouthful, and appears to be awaiting your opinion on the taste.

“This…is really good. I can tell the fish is fresh, and there’s a perfect amount of vinegar in the rice,” you comment, your chopsticks going for another one.

“I’m glad it’s to your taste. Nothing but the best for my fiancé.”

The term he uses catches you a little off guard, but you manage to laugh it off. Sukuna is very satisfied by the millisecond of a pause in your reaction. Perhaps you should’ve added the rule of no unnecessary flirting with the other party into your contract?

After the hearty meal, the table is cleared, and the contract is taken out and placed upon it, resting between the two of you.

“We’ve both come here to sign this, am I correct?” you reconfirm, pulling out a pen of yours, ready to draw up your signature.

“Indeed. We’ve reviewed it multiple times back and forth between us, I doubt there’s anything more to worry about.”

You pass it on over to him, after signing it swiftly. He does the same.

The both of you are now officially bound together, by law.

There’s a beautiful shade of pink outside that grasps your attention, every now and then. You’d forgotten the current season was spring – and like in every other year, the cherry blossoms are always there to remind you. This is a nice restaurant indeed.

“I hope you have the time to enjoy some tea with me, Y/N,” Sukuna says as he puts his pen away. It feels nice to hear someone call you by your name like that.

“Fortunately, I do have a few minutes to spare.”

“Enjoying the outside view?” he asks - placing his focus on you, rather than the window.

“Yes, actually. This view is…very lovely.”

You say it in a soft spoken voice, and your eyes mellow out in a way he doesn’t expect when you look out the window once again. He takes a mental note to bring you here a second time, once the next spring season arrives.

This tea time is spent very delightfully (to your surprise), for maybe the next ten minutes before the both of you need to eventually leave due to your busy schedules. Once standing up, you offer your hand to the man before you, with a smile. He takes your hand, that is so dainty and soft compared to his, and shakes it.

“Your hair is the same colour as those petals,” you say without thinking.

“I do get that a lot. I’d argue that I’ll always look better than any of those trees, however.”

“That’s some impressive confidence you have,” you retort, with a chuckle.

As you’re walking out of the restaurant alongside him, you remember something you’d forgotten to mention to him.

“The wedding will be in a month’s time. We’ll see each other a couple of times before then,” you state, looking up at him in the eyes.

“Excellent. Feel free to contact me whenever.”

“I actually prefer your normal attitude, rather than the one you’re using around me all the time,” you tell him truthfully.

“You mean my flirtatious advances on you?”

“No, you already do that now. I mean when you use your crude language, and speak in shorter sentences.”

You nonchalantly walk out of the door that he’s still holding open for you.

“Oh? ...You’re into that shit? Very unexpected, coming from someone like you,” he retorts with a smirk as he holds the door open for you.

“Yes, that’s much better. I’m happy to see that my future husband is the obedient type.”

Obedient–

He catches you giving one last glance at him, before getting inside of your car, with a cheeky smile on your face. Sukuna is stunned in an amused way, having been called obedient for the first time in his life. It should be making him angry, but he’s grinning instead. The urge to get back at you rises within him like wildfire.

This whole marriage thing with you is bound to be one hell of a ride.

“How are the wedding preparations going?” he asks on the phone.

The question comes while you’re inspecting the various invitation designs before you. You pick one of them up and flip to the other side.

“Very smoothly. You won’t have to lift a finger, as we promised.”

“That’s good to hear. It’s a shame, really. Would’ve liked to help pick out a wedding dress for you,” he says humourously.

“Certainly not. I imagine you’d pick an atrocious dress,” you tell him, listening to him chuckle.

“Not possible. All wedding dresses look the same anyway,” Sukuna dismisses.

You furrow your brows a little at his ignorance. Of course he’s the type to say that.

“I’ll have to disagree. But pushing that aside for now,” you say, putting down the sample invitation card, “have you prepared the list of guests you’d like to invite for the ceremony?”

“I have. I’ll get Uraume to send the list to you soon.”

“Thank you. Well then, I wish you a good afternoon.”

You end the call sharply.

Mildly irritated as he sits at the back of his car, Sukuna removes his phone from his ear and looks down at the screen with a raised eyebrow. He wishes you wouldn’t cut calls so abruptly like that. What is wrong with you?

“Pretentious,” he mutters, shoving his phone back into his pocket. He looks out his window, expressionlessly.

Amongst the number of people Sukuna plans to invite to the wedding, his mother and father aren’t a part of the list. But, surprisingly so, it’s the same for you too. They’re excluding the whole ‘walking the bride down the aisle’ as a result. He doesn’t care enough to ask you what happened to them – it’s none of his business, after all. It’s just a little strange to think about how both the bride and the groom will have absent seats for parents.

The car suddenly feels a little stuffy for him. He rolls the window down a little bit, letting the outside breeze swirl inside, carrying the scent of the city.

And as for you – after having completed a large portion of the work needed to be done for the wedding, you’re now happily sitting at home with a glass of wine in your hand. In maybe around two weeks’ time, you’ll be a legally married woman. It feels a little surreal to think about.

Looking over at the wedding invitation card that has his and your name printed over it, your mind brings up the image of your parents. Oh, how they would’ve never approved of a man like him. You can’t help but let out a small, dry laugh.

…It’s all for the sake of the business. You promised them to do well.

And you shall execute it– flawlessly.

Little inklings of dating rumours have already dispersed amongst the employees at both Malevolent Casino and Golden Rose Enterprise, having grown all the way back from the moment when Sukuna applied for the expensive VIP membership all too suddenly. That, and alongside the frequent ins and outs both you and Sukuna have been doing at each others’ offices have raised the suspicions of many. Countless friends and acquaintances have reached out, asking if it’s actually true. And to each one of them, you replied with a ‘yes’.

This is a perfect chain of events leading up to the marriage announcement. For someone who has quite a bit of media attention on him already due to past affairs, he is indeed the ideal candidate for the promotion of the hotel’s wedding services, as he’s bound to draw the gaze of a wider audience.

It’s rather amusing how many of them warned you, and discouraged your ‘relationship’ with Sukuna.

“He’s not like that at all. He treats me very well,” you responded to them, the best you could.

And then, you sent out the wedding invitations, not long after.

You become terribly busy in the final week before the ceremony. Giving instructions to employees during the setup process of the venue, arranging the rings, selecting the perfect dress and suit, establishing a script for the vows, and organising the food for the event. Not to mention, there needs to be professional photographers present to capture everything beautifully, so the photos can be uploaded to the hotel website.

For the honeymoon – you reckoned it’d be best to go somewhere overseas, even if for only a few days – in order to prevent speculations that the two of you may not actually be in love. When asked if there was a particular country he wanted to go to for the honeymoon, Sukuna replied with “I couldn’t care less where we go.”

So you took it upon yourself to select somewhere most convenient for you.

Ironically enough, you barely met the man during this final week, as you were too preoccupied with running around and making sure everything was perfect.

And now, here you are, dolled up in a stunning wedding gown, waiting for Sukuna to finish getting dressed up. You can hear the guests buzzing outside, anticipating the appearance of the bride and groom.

A whistle resounds in front of you. Looking up, you see him in the polished suit that you had picked out for him. Alongside that, his appropriately slicked back hair makes him look like quite the handsome gentleman.

“You look ravishing, my dear wife,” he comments, giving a smug, lopsided grin.

“Not your wife quite yet. We’re yet to be officiated,” you respond back with a smile.

“No need to mind the details. We’re about to be, anyway.”

He offers up his arm, and you’re quick to put your hand around it.

The two of you stand underneath an opulent arch, decorated with countless delicate roses. As the officiant makes his speech, you and Sukuna face each other hand in hand, exchanging gazes that contain nothing but false affection.

“The Bride and Groom shall now make their vows.”

The crowd watches intently, falling under a noticeable hush.

“On this joyous day, I, Ryomen Sukuna, will take you as my one and only – my lawfully wedded wife,” his voice booms brilliantly around this almost ethereal-looking wedding venue.

“I vow to bring forth happiness and fulfilment to our most tender, yet unshakable connection we share – and offer up my whole heart to you – as I shall be the valiant protector of our betrothal.”

He executes the speech with great accuracy and enthusiasm, which you are fairly impressed by. You almost let out a giggle from it, knowing that he is most undoubtedly rolling his eyes internally at the words that had just come out from his mouth.

“And I, (Y/N) (L/N), take you as my one and only – my lawfully wedded husband,” you mirror, letting your voice ring out just as he had let his.

“I vow to wholeheartedly embrace and value you as my other half, devoting myself to our most cherished relationship – where I shall tend to the light that our love emits, and treasure it endlessly.”

All of these fancy words - if only everyone knew that they were nothing but empty promises. Nevertheless, finally being able to say them aloud relieves a great weight from your shoulders. It’s almost over.

“You may now seal those promises with a kiss.”

Your eyes widen for a moment.

…You’d forgotten all about the very highlight of all wedding ceremonies. The kiss.

Looking to Sukuna with slight uncertainty, you wonder if you should be the one to initiate it–

He flashes you a gentle smirk. You’d overlooked this part, hadn’t you? He seems to ask.

He pulls you closer to him by snaking his arm around your waist without hesitation, and firmly presses his lips against yours. Having your worries been alleviated, you close your eyes during the kiss. The crowd cheers and a thunderous clap takes over the air around you.

The tips of your tongues brush up against each other, before he pulls away at the appropriate timing, leaving behind a very miniscule and delicate sense of disappointment from having it end so quickly.

The two of you make your way down the steps and walk through the aisle for the grand exit - stepping on the extravagant white carpet that leads to the outside world. Beautiful pink petals are showered down from the ceiling at this perfect timing - and the crowd continues their cheers tirelessly. From the corner of your eye, you inspect that the photographers are doing their jobs in a satisfactory manner.

From the way you and Sukuna bring up your smiles, it wouldn’t be an understatement to say that the two of you are excellent actors.

The path leads all the way to the sleek limousine that awaits the new couple.

You’re mildly surprised to see that it’s raining outside. The weather forecast this morning hadn’t said anything about rain this afternoon. Different hues of grey adorn the sky – the clouds are seemingly vehement on concealing its true colour today. As each of your respective secretaries open up a large umbrella to shelter the two of you, you wonder in dismay. Is this supposed to be some kind of omen?

Getting inside the vehicle, you confirm that the driver is Ijichi, and feel the tension from your body disappear in an instant, now being able to settle down a little more naturally.

“My face hurts from all that smiling,” Sukuna grunts beside you.

“I can say the same,” you agree, caressing your own cheek with your hand.

The limousine will drop by both of your homes, where each of you will get changed into more comfortable clothing before taking off for the airport. Luggage had already been packed prior to the wedding. You’re exhausted, and you could say that you’re pretty envious of Sukuna’s relaxed state that you see once you come back down after changing.

“You must be tired,” he suddenly comments, eyeing you up once you’ve seated yourself comfortably, putting your seatbelt on.

“What makes you say that?” you ask him.

He reaches his hand out to your head, where he gingerly takes something up. When he opens his palm for you to see it, you realise that it’s a petal from the wedding.

“Forgot to check the mirror?” Sukuna asks rhetorically with a cocky undertone.

You let out something like a helpless laugh.

“Thank you for picking up on it.”

The ride to the airport is entirely silent, with you and Sukuna quietly staring out into the windows, watching the scenery outside. As much as you would’ve liked to fall asleep to the softly orchestrated patter of rain against the car’s exterior…you just couldn’t seem to.

After arriving at the airport, you thank Ijichi for his extra service, and promise that his bonus will be sent to his account very shortly. Then, the two of you are guided to the boarding entrance, where you’re seated in the elite economy class.

The plane is headed for Paris, France. A little cliche and overdone, but it’s a place you’d been to most frequently, as your parents had taken you there often for business purposes. The ride goes without any issues, as Sukuna had let out the occasional yawn beside you, before slipping on a silk eye mask and going for a nap. He managed to wake himself up a little before the plane landed.

Upon your arrival at the grand hotel in the bustling city of Paris, the two of you are booked into the same room but with separate bedrooms. The luggage is handled carefully, as the bellman guides both of you to the room.

“I was thinking we could use this opportunity,” he says as he walks close beside you, “to spend the night like how all newlyweds do.”

The fatigue has worn your usual polite attitude off, and you have to roll your eyes at him.

He thoroughly enjoys getting under your skin.

“Quite the charming suggestion. Too bad that I have no energy for that right now.”

“Are you implying that you might in the future?”

“...Think of it as you will, Sukuna.”

The moment you enter, you drag your feet over to your own room.

“I’m going to sleep straight away. Feel free to spend the day how you wish,” you tell him, before going inside and closing the door behind you.

Sukuna has a little bit more energy to burn off, since he took a long nap on the plane – so he decides to step out and enjoy the outside city while he’s here.

It’s not as if it’s his first time in Paris - he’d done a lot of travelling back in his younger days, when he used to be absolutely drunk on the amount of money he was making. He already knows which restaurants and shops are to his taste, and since it’s been a while, he decides he’ll pass some time by revisiting those same places.

He very much enjoys his independent shopping – particularly that feeling of satisfaction at the end, when he’s gained a handful of carefully selected goods. The first place he drops by is a luxurious shoe store, where he picks the pairs that fancy him most, and an employee is immediately ready to come down and help him with fitting them on.

By the end of his little trip, Sukuna’s accompanying assistant has his arms full with various shopping bags, filled with new suits, shoes, expensive cologne… let’s just say that he’s very keen about maintaining his appearance for self satisfaction. And each item was carefully chosen from the designer brands that Sukuna favours greatly.

His bags are dropped off to his room by that same assistant. Before he goes back, Sukuna heads off to the hotel’s bar, where he plans to spend some quiet time with a drink to finish off the day.

This hotel’s well established bar is quite suited to his liking, he thinks, as skims his surroundings, languidly making his way through the dimly lit, atmospheric area.

What he orders tonight at the bar counter is a boulevardier cocktail – being in the mood to have something bittersweet on his taste buds. He’s barely had a chance to take a sip of the drink, when someone all too abruptly claims the empty seat to his right.

“I’ll have a dry martini, please.”

The phrase makes Sukuna whip his head to the side, being mildly pleased to think that it might be the person who he assumes it is.

…He finds that it’s a woman he doesn’t know of at all, staring back at him with a sly smile. He doesn’t visibly show any disappointment, but he does face the front again, before taking a gulp out of the crimson-coloured liquid that resembles the hue of his eyes.

“What, am I not pretty enough for you?” the girl asks in a playful manner.

“...I wouldn’t say that. You’re not too bad to look at,” Sukuna responds honestly.

He entertains her for a little while, doing the bare minimum to keep up with the conversation. She seems so eager to escalate things with him, and he considers it, seeing as he’s got nothing better to do. The contract does state that such relations are permitted for both parties, so long as it’s outside of the media’s attention.

There’s lots of casual touching going on, whether it’s brushing her hand over his, or placing them onto his shoulder or arm, being very blatant in the way she flirts.

The woman hovers inches away from his face, and he stares down at her while he makes some last minute decisions. His gaze falls down to her lips.

“Well? What do you say?” she urges him for an answer, leaning closer to him.

“We could head up to my room and…keep each other some company.”

Just as she thinks she’s gotten him on board, Sukuna grabs her face and pushes her away, deeming that it’s too bothersome for all of that tonight. She pouts right after he lets go of her.

“And I thought we were on the same page… can I ask why?”

He downs the rest of his drink in one go before showing the girl the ring on his left hand.

“At least pay for my drink!” she exclaims as a last resort.

“I’ll be taking my leave, then.”

“Wha- are you going already?!” she questions, thoroughly disappointed. He ignores it, and is already taking steps towards the exit.

With a hand in his pocket, he stops in his tracks, and turns slightly to the side to give her one final glance.

“Too bad. I don’t buy drinks for just anyone.”

Sukuna then heads back up to his room, wondering if you’ll be awake by the time he arrives.

When he’s back inside however, you seem to still be in your deep slumber, seeing as there’s no sign of life around the lounge and no sounds coming from your room. Even for someone as capable as you, managing to prepare everything for that extravagant wedding must’ve been arduous work. He’s in no place to feel irritated at you. It impresses him – how you arranged everything within a limited amount of time, while also fulfilling your duties as a CEO.

Sukuna takes his jacket off and then begins to loosen his tie. After a day of shopping, nothing is better than taking a hot bath to relax the muscles. He can make use of that built in jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, and freshen himself up.

It doesn’t take long for the steam to begin rising from the water as the tub slowly fills up, bubbling up at the sides. He makes himself comfortable towards the edge of the tub, where he lets out a sigh and leans back - the water stopping at the comfortable level, being his chest. He slicks his moistened hair back, and something gets caught in his fingers as he does so.

Looking down at his hand, he sees that it’s a small, pink petal. It must’ve blended in well in his hair from the wedding, this entire time. Thinking of you, a sinister smirk makes its way upon his features.

How reassuring it is, to have a wife so capable. You’ll certainly be a useful asset for him to utilise in the future.

Perhaps a little difficult to crack open, but that’ll only make the end result all the more rewarding.

In the following morning, Sukuna wakes up to some noises outside of his room, and he figures that it’s you walking about after sleeping for almost a whole day, if that’s even possible. Doing a great yawn, he does a quick self-check in the mirror, and proceeds to step out of his room.

You’re latching a watch onto your wrist when the door to Sukuna’s room opens up, revealing the man with his hair down, wearing some loose, comfortable clothing. Having woken up very early, you had taken the time to get dressed after that well-deserved sleep you had.

“Good morning,” you tell him, while checking the tightness of the watch on your wrist.

Damn right he is. After sleeping for a day straight, you’re gonna ignore him again and go about your own business?

“Going somewhere?” he asks curtly, without greeting you back.

“Yes, in about two hours or so,” you say, wondering why he seems mildly irritated towards you today.

“I’m going to a piano concert. I doubt you’ll be interested, but you're welcome to join me.”

A piano concert? Shit sounds boring as hell. Of course you’d be interested in that.

Being invited under these premises… like being offered leftovers… he can’t help but feel a little displeased.

“You have a spare ticket?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

“I always buy the seats at either side of mine. I’d rather not sit next to strangers.”

“I’ll go. I have nothing better to do around here anyway,” Sukuna says, with a voice that sounds like he’s doing you a big favour. Maybe he’ll take this chance to learn a thing or two more about you.

“Wonderful. I’ve also ordered room service for us, so we can have breakfast together if you’d like?”

That seems to have appeased him a bit, which forms a little smile on your face.

Perhaps around an hour and a half later, the two of you leave the hotel to head over to the auditorium, which requires only a short walk.

Sukuna trails behind you as you stride over towards your seats, where you’re able to make yourself comfortable. From this location in the auditorium, you catch sight of people clambering around towards their seats below. There’s still a bit of time left before the show begins.

He falls quiet for a few seconds, which makes you give him a discreet little glance.

“I’m surprised you actually came all the way out here with me,” you tell him, in order to strike up some sort of conversation.

“I figured that even a dull piano recital would be better than being stuck in my room all day,” Sukuna responds with nonchalance, crossing his legs.

“You wouldn’t know that it’s dull yet, would you? It hasn’t even started yet.”

“I guess you’re correct. You did prove me wrong before, after all.”

You make a quizzical expression at him, and a sly smirk creeps up onto his features.

“Your wedding dress. It was unique. Beautiful, even,” he admits.

A moment of realisation later, you let out a small chuckle.

He’s a little disappointed by that response. He’d like to catch you looking all flustered, one of these days.

“I’m glad you were able to learn something from our wedding,” you tell him.

“And of course,” he continues, “the one wearing it, even more so.”

“Why, thank you very much. You looked quite stunning as well. I knew that suit would compliment you nicely.”

The conversation is cut off when the concert begins with the lights dimming, as a pianist makes their way onto the large stage.

More than the music itself, Sukuna was finding that his attention was garnering towards your reactions more. You seem to be enjoying yourself.

…Though it wasn’t long before he was beginning to zone out a little, being easily disengaged with the concert, as he isn’t exactly one for piano music.

By the end of the show, you see that he is very eager to leave the auditorium. You can’t help the childish way the corners of your lips rise in response. He’s quite easy to read, at least when it comes to these smaller moments.

“Why don’t you get up on stage yourself next time? That’d be something more worthwhile to watch,” he says, bringing an image of you sitting before the large instrument up in his mind.

“You must be an avid fan of the piano,” Sukuna says with a grunt, as they leave the bustling area.

“Only casually, every now and then. Out of everything I was required to learn as a child, I liked the piano the most.”

“I’m flattered that you think so. But I prefer listening over playing it myself.”

Your words erase the image out of his mind.

The rest of the “honeymoon” goes by without much happening between the two of you, only quietly sharing meals together or the occasional drinking session; though neither of you were able to get drunk - due to being a tad too cautious around each other.

Your first day back at the office felt quite refreshing.

Everyone was busy, and the hotel’s wedding venues especially; as you had predicted, there was an overflow of requests coming in from couples who had seen the photos of your marriage on the website. They did come out very beautifully - almost like something out of a scene in a film. It was worth paying those photographers the good money.

At your desk, you scroll through the various article titles that have been published on several gossip sites – featuring the topic of your wedding mainly focusing on Sukuna.

[Sukuna, a CEO notorious for breaking the hearts of many actresses, gets married?]

[CEO of Malevolent Casino settles down for owner of Golden Rose Enterprise. A match made in heaven?]

[A womaniser reformed, CEO of Malevolent Casino enters wedlock!]

Oh, how you laughed until your stomach hurt. You can imagine the kind of face he’d make if he read any of these titles. The overwhelming attention is even better than you had expected. You even have a few interview requests from some of these gossip magazines. Doing a few of them wouldn’t hurt, would it?

The two of you have even set up a shared home, put together by Sukuna himself, just in case there comes a moment when you need it. Though you weren’t very happy about the design choices he’d made, when furnishing the place. For now, an agreement was made that living under the same roof together was not necessary.

Later in the day, you receive a call from the man himself.

“So, are you enjoying the fruits of our labour?” he asks as soon as you pick up.

“Yes, it truly is satisfying. Getting married at our venues seems to have become a little trend now,” you tell him proudly.

“Good for you. I hope you’re remembering your part of the deal, however,” he states with warning, “I’m yet to see any of those fruits growing on my end.”

You chuckle a little at his words.

“Of course I do. I have something in mind that will help with that,” you reassure him.

“But before we go into any detail for it…” you say, as you read over the email for an interview request on your computer screen, “let’s do one interview, about our marriage.”

You smile as you hear Sukuna make a little noise of grimace from his end.

“This better be worth doing,” Sukuna mutters, as he walks alongside you in the corridor, towards where the interview will take place.

“I wouldn’t suggest doing anything that’s a waste of time,” you tell him with confidence.

His expression of indignance doesn’t change.

“After all, it’s a good opportunity to have this attention on us last a little longer,” you add on.

“I already figured. Aren’t you mooching off of my image a bit too much?” he narrows his eyes at you.

“Oh, don’t be like that. I was thinking we could start the planning for that collaboration of ours soon. Wouldn’t that be to your liking?”

That seems to quell his discontent, for now. You open the door at the end of the corridor.

“The two of you have stirred the media up quite a bit through your sudden marriage! Please tell us your story on how you first met each other.”

The interviewer speaks to you and Sukuna with a bright smile, gesturing politely towards the vague direction between you both. Of course, you had prepared a little bit of a script for both yourself and him, but he’d brushed it off, saying that he was able to wing something like this easily.

“Well, our first meeting was-”

“It’s rather cliche, but we met at a bar,” he cuts you off abruptly. It catches you off-guard. You only hope that he won’t say anything unnecessary.

“I was the one that approached her, after catching her gaze from across where she sat,” he continues, crossing his legs. The excited interviewer types away on her laptop, recording his words.

“My! That does sound romantic. Please do give us more details.”

Sukuna does an excellent job at mixing the truth with his lies, and surprisingly enough, you’re the one sitting in silence as he does most of the talking while you act as backup to his story. It’s even better than the script you’d made up originally. He’s clearly picked up the skill to smoothly manipulate his stories.

“Our last question in the interview is directed towards the both of you. What compelled the two of you to choose each other for marriage? What do you love most about one another?”

A question that wasn’t on the damn script. They always love to sneak a few extras in like this. And technically that was two questions, not one. Sukuna is about to express his displeasure towards the interviewer, but you speak up before he does.

“I appreciated his very forward way of approaching me. How he’s difficult to read, granting him a more mysterious appeal. Arguably arrogant at times, but rightfully so, considering how clever and charming he is. For one second I was only a little intrigued by him, but then in the other…he’d suddenly become the apple of my eye.”

How do you say all of that without batting an eyelash? Part of him wonders if you perhaps meant any of it, even just a little.

“That is wonderful! I understand why you’d be infatuated. What about you, Mr. Ryomen? Did you also feel equally as captivated?”

He certainly won’t lose to you.

“...But of course. Her strong sense of independence. How competent she is. She mentioned that I’m difficult to read - but that hardly seems to be the case. She reads me like a book, and I find that so interesting,” Sukuna looks at you with a smirk and naturally places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly.

“It had been a while since I’d chased after someone rather than be chased – but that only made our relationship all the more sweeter.”

You’re impressed with how willingly he shot back at you, with his impromptu speech. The interviewer, oblivious, swoons as the two of you exchange smiles.

“There were nothing but satisfying answers during this session. Thank you so much for your participation!”

The interview is wrapped up nicely, and the two of you walk out after shaking hands with her.

Your insincere wordings are sickeningly sweet, like caramel, clinging onto him with its viscous texture.

“The apple of your eye, huh?” he goads, eyeing your response.

“Yes, my dear husband. The apple of my eye,” you repeat, with a relaxed demeanor.

“Very endearing,” he says – with venom in his tone.

A car awaits outside for the two of you, its engine already on and ready to drive off.

“While we’re here, perhaps we should talk about the event I’ve set up for us,” you tell him, fastening your seatbelt.

Sukuna opens his eyes instantaneously. He’s going to do… what?

“Go on, I’m listening,” he says, crossing his arms and resting his head back with his eyes closed.

“We’re going to do some volunteer work at an aged care facility,” you say bluntly, paying no mind to his dismissive posture.

Judging from that reaction, apparently not.

“Are you fucking around with me?”

“No? Actually, I was half expecting that you would’ve seen this coming.”

“This is still only phase one – improving your reputation. I’m even organising a few journalists to publish an article for us,” you tell him unapologetically.

He looks comically displeased.

“There’s a lot of guilt that follows when it comes to a hobby like gambling. It’s already considered a taboo, but with a company holding an unfavourable image like yours, newcomers are hesitant. Our partnership isn’t enough to put all of that behind,” you explain.

“And if I said no?”

“This isn’t for me more than it is for you.”

“You must be joking. How is taking care of some old fossils beneficial to me?”

“Let’s just say that it’s a ploy,” you start.

Sukuna rolls his eyes, despite knowing that you’re correct on that.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Addicts are constantly looking for excuses to be addicted. What’ll happen if they believe you made this company for a good cause?”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” he scoffs, returning to his former attitude. “And I’m guessing you expect me to throw in a donation there too.”

Sukuna grunts with annoyance.

His aloofness resembles the behaviour of an unhappy child – but you don’t dare tell him that aloud.

“It’ll only be a few hours of work. Get a couple of good photos in and we’ll be done,” you say, sympathetically.

“How reassuring.” He doesn’t bother to look your way again.

Sukuna is used to doing things forcefully. If there’s something that he wants, he’ll pluck it out of the hands of another, regardless of if it’ll affect that person or not. If there’s a crowd of people around him, he’ll push and shove them out of his way, not caring whether someone gets trampled or not. And if there’s anyone that inconveniences him… he doesn’t hesitate to kick them down, until they’re crying on their knees for forgiveness.

And yet…. And yet…

Here he is, standing behind a table, wearing a tacky apron over his dashing suit as he dishes out soup for an old geezer, using a ladle. There’s a smile on his face, but a vein popping out on his forehead. The littlest inconvenience could make him lash out at somebody here.

He pours soup into the tray for the next elderly woman that is in line.

He wordlessly gives her a third scoop.

“More please,” she asks of him.

“Alright, sure,” he tells her, doing his best to sound friendly. Another scoop.

“Again,” she says.

“I want more!”

Her tray is already filled to the brim with soup, any more and she’ll end up spilling everything on her way to a table.

Sukuna is about to lose it.

She complacently walks off to find a seat somewhere, holding her tray.

“Ma’am, if you get any more, you’ll end up spilling it over. You can always come back for seconds. Promise we’ll still be here,” you butt in, before he blows over a fuse.

“Oh… alright then.”

You can barely contain the sigh that nearly spills out of your lungs.

“If you explain it to them clearly, they usually listen,” you tell him with a low voice, after she’s gone.

“Too bad I don’t wanna explain shit,” he very graciously responds.

Shortly after, you and Sukuna get your own portions of the same meals given to the elderly for lunch.

He kisses his teeth loudly and chucks his spoon down onto his tray, before getting up abruptly.

“Everything is lukewarm,” he comments, frowning.

“Can’t be helped. It’s a safety precaution, in case they burn themselves.”

You clearly note how the direction he heads towards is not where the restrooms are.

“Where are you going?”

“To the bathroom,” he lies without hesitation.

Fuck this whole event. Fuck this place. He considers leaving for a moment, but is quick to discard that idea, knowing he’ll hear no end of it from you afterwards. Only a few more hours to go, anyway. He steps outside, taking a quick scan of the area to make sure nobody is around before pulling a cigarette and lighter out from his pocket.

Lodging it between his lips, he uses his lighter against the end, but it seems to fail at producing any flames, adding on to his frustration.

He ignores you, because at this point, he knows nothing nice will come out of his mouth if he starts talking now. Why isn’t this goddamn thing working?

“Useless piece of shit,” he mutters, continuing his frantic attempts at the sparkwheel.

“Smoking is prohibited in this area,” a voice that he knows all too well comes from behind.

You stand beside him and hold something up with your hand. He sees that it’s a lighter.

He lights his cigarette, returns your lighter and then takes a big puff. He looks more noticeably relaxed.

“...You smoke?” he asks, taking it from your hand.

“Used to,” you tell him, crossing your arms.

“Just this once. Make it quick,” you tell him, looking around for people.

He lets out a short, curt hmph and blows another gust of smoke out.

“So what did you follow me all the way out here for? To babysit me?” Sukuna asks, still being quite moody about the situation.

“Looks like you already know. I thought it’d be best to keep an eye on you.”

He was going to shoot back with another snarky response, but a couple of voices could be heard coming from somewhere nearby. Before he can say a word on it, you’re suddenly grabbing his hand and dragging him away, elsewhere. The two of you end up in the area behind the building.

“Feel better now?” you say.

“Barely. Let’s finish this and go home already,” he grunts, dropping the cigarette butt onto the ground and putting it out with his foot.

“You should probably pick that up.”

All because of that… he thinks. Sukuna watches as you peer around the place, seeing if anyone is around again. A smirk slowly crawls up onto his face.

“Why the hell did we need to run? We could’ve just gone back in,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“If they approached us, they would’ve smelled the smoke. You still reek of tobacco.”

“You sure that’s the only reason? Dragging me all the way here. By the hand, not to mention.”

He corners you against the wall behind you, trapping you between his arms.

“Who knows, I might even behave a little more if you help me relieve some stress,” he continues, looking down at you with sultry eyes. You don’t look flustered in the least, which kind of irks him.

To his confusion, you grab something out of your pocket. It’s packaged in plastic, and you make quick work to unwrap it.

His eyes then widen, when you grab his face and slip something inside his mouth, pushing it past his lips. Swiping his tongue over it, he realises it’s a mint lolly.

“Stop joking around, and chew on this instead. Maybe that’ll pipe you down,” you tell him, as you slip out from his trap by ducking underneath his arms. “And it’ll help get rid of the smell, while it’s at it.”

“Come. We’re going back inside.”

His eyes follow you as you begin walking back already without him. He even considers spitting this lolly down to the ground. But he doesn’t.

Sukuna was very dismayed once they had gotten back. They found that lunch break was over and there were dishes to be done. By them.

He gnaws on the lolly as he shoves the last tray into the dishwasher. It gets shut, and with the press of a button, it begins its work. Turning around, he sees you at the sink, manually washing some dishes up, because there’s only so much that a dishwasher can contain.

“Look at you, doing such a good job. You should do this professionally,” he comments, coming up from behind. He really has nothing serious to say today.

Your flat reply kills his playful banter immediately, and he can’t help but narrow his eyes as the last of the lolly melts away in his mouth. He aggressively puts on some rubber gloves and pushes you aside at the sink.

“Mind lending a hand?” you ask him, without looking back.

“I don’t know if I feel like helping.”

“Alright - don’t, then.”

There’s a smile that blooms on your face when you look at him in this moment, and it’s genuine, which is kind of rare, coming from you. Your reaction makes the dishes worth doing for just a bit, at the very least. He thinks.

“We’ll take years to get back home at your pace. Not doing it for you, so don’t misunderstand.”

“...Yes, I’m aware.”

Not long later, someone comes along inside – the same old lady that had asked for extra soup from Sukuna earlier on. He’s never been more appalled to see someone again.

“You missed this one!” she says, holding up a dirty spoon.

She approaches slowly, but somehow misses a step and stumbles a little, causing the spoon to smear over Sukuna’s suit, just below the shoulder area.

“Oh… dearie me. My legs don’t work the way they used to,” the woman mutters, looking down at her limbs. After dropping the spoon off in the sink, she pats him on the back.

“Sorry, young man,” she says, before trudging away again.

The two of you stand in silence, with Sukuna having a darkened expression on his face.

Your stifled laughter breaks it, and he whips around to see you enjoying this shitty situation.

“That hag…” he mutters, popping out a vein again on his forehead.

He hears another chuckle from you.

He’s left alone with his simmering anger for a few moments, until you come back holding a packet of wet wipes. Adjusting his position by grabbing his shoulders, you begin wiping away the…remnants of what was on the spoon from his clothes. He grimaces with disgust.

“Quit laughing! Fuck’s sake, I’m gonna leave-”

“Wait here,” you cut him off, degloving yourself.

“Alright then, as you wish.”

“You wore a dark colour today, so it should be fine.”

“Fine? Nothing will be fine until I get back at that old witch.”

“Don’t be like that to a frail old woman. I’ll buy you a new suit if it bothers you so much.”

“...Forget it. I can buy my own suits without your help,” he grumbles, getting back to the dishes.

After wrapping up the day with the remaining formalities, you and Sukuna exit the facility, into the car park. You crack another smile when he immediately takes his jacket off and chucks it at Uraume, who catches it gracefully, being accustomed to this sort of behaviour.

“Get it cleaned thoroughly. For now, I want it out of my sight,” he says sternly, loosening his tie. He wants to go home and shower. Never coming back to this godforsaken place again.

Just a few days later, the finalised draft of the article that is to be published online is sent to your email. It mentions the volunteer work you and Sukuna had done during the day, and also talks briefly about the generous donation that was given to the facility – just the way you’d requested them to. Sukuna won’t be too happy about the photos that show him wearing that apron, but it’s a well worth sacrifice to make. It's during these times, where you’re grateful for the connections you have with the media. You send them the approval email in response.

Once the article is published, you forward the link for Sukuna to see.

He skims through the blocks of uninteresting text on the site, and abruptly stops scrolling when he gets to the photos that have been added in.

There are key moments that had been photographed; when they were serving the food, when they were helping with the dishes, and when they shook hands with the one in charge of that facility. But the image that stands out to him the most, is the one taken when they were manually washing some trays together.

His own face isn’t visible because he has his back to the camera, but your genuine smile, as you’re looking at him, can be seen clear as day.

“The photographer deserves a raise,” he speaks to himself.

When’s the next time he’ll ever get an expression like that out of you again?

…He shuts his laptop screen down. It doesn’t matter, anyway. He’s not here to try and make you happy, after all.

-- To be continued --

Masterlist

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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