#gangster sukuna

[jujutsukgojo]

The boy in art

gangster!Sukuna x reader

Chapter Two

Summary:

Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.

Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this!

"You know you're my girl, right?"

a/n: Not the best but oh well. i was supposed to write something for Gojo because of his birthday yet here i am with sukuna i dont own jjk tw: implied violence, vandalism, implied drug deals, etc. fast paced! ooc sukuna (oh well :)) fast paced! characters: Reader, Sukuna, OC, Nobara, mentioned Megumi and yuuji, and a little mahito (sorry)

 

 

 As you are walking to your classroom, you hear swearing. The hallway is empty and brightly lit. You are the only one here now since you decided to arrive early for class. Entering the classroom, you sit your bag down. Much to your annoyance, the noises don’t stop. Curious, you get up to go to the source. 

  In the middle of the hallway is a window. You open it to see two men talking. Everything is normal until you see what is in their hands. You gasp, causing the two men to look at you. “What are you two doing?” 

“Mind your own business.” The one with pink hair and tattoos says.  “You can’t do that here!” 

“Get inside, little girl.” The other rolls his eyes at you and leaves. “There, you happy? It’s all over now.” 

 “Whatever you do in your free time is up to you. But you cannot do this here.” 

“You own this place?” He gestures the area.

“No, I take classes here.” He pops out a cigarette and lights it. You noticed that his ears move a little when he does that. “Then why are you so pressed about it?” 

“This is my school!” He looks around at the building. “That’s your name?” 

“Why would my name be “Community College”, dumbass?” The pink haired man shrugs. “The hell I know. What is it anyway?” 

“This is a community school that offers art co-” 

“Now look who’s the dumbass, you’re just as stupid as I am. I mean your name.” He interrupts you. You bite your lip and tap your fingers.

“(Y/n). What's it to you?” You place your hands on the windowsill. He laughs and walks away. “Nothing at all. See you later.” You slam the window shut.  

It isn’t your business, yeah, but it is around you. They can say whatever about you who cares. However, you don’t want that type of shit anywhere near you. With a goal in mind, you cannot afford to be bothered with that.  

  Over-achiever, prude, rude, and whatever else they say. Let them talk. It will be you who has a good, decent, life that is secure and stable. 

“He was cute though.” You won’t ever see him again. There is nothing to hold onto. 

---

Your professor points to the stack of papers on his desk. “For those who would like to, the papers are right here to fill out. Turn them in accordingly and on time.” 

This is what you have been waiting for. Your heart is racing. Finally, you got an opportunity for an internship at the art museum. With your good grades you should be a shoo in for the position. After class, you get up and grab a paper to fill it out. Since you have some time on your hands, you fill it out right then. It is not every day that the museum allows interns.  

With the final signature of your name, you turn in the paper. Leaving the room, you exit the school with a pep in your step. Lo’ and behold, there is the pink haired guy at the corner of the street. You roll your eyes and walk past him, mentally kicking yourself for forgetting your headphones.  

“So that’s how it is?”  

You shouldn’t acknowledge him. “What do you want?” 

He hisses as if you hurt him. “You’re not going to say hello?” 

Rolling your eyes, you ask, “Why the hell would I do that for?” 

He chuckles and leans back further onto the wall. “No reason at all.” 

 Scoffing, you walk away. “Sukuna!” He yells. You turn around and ask what he meant. “That’s my name, Sukuna.” 

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“Alright then, brat.”   

You smack your lips and leave. He's bad news. As pretty as he is, he’s no good. You have all this going for you, you can’t afford to be around him. With the possible internship, your part time job, to school, you can’t be associated with him.   

  You take out the store’s keys to open the door. A little bell goes off when you do. You set your things down on the counter and open the blinds. Nobara had been here earlier, so there was not much else to do. And by the looks of things, business was slow.  

  Even though it is a small shop, you don’t want it to close. You don't really see bookstores like this anymore. Unfortunately, closure may be soon since you, Nobara, and the owner are the only workers.  

  After settling down, you flip the sign to ‘open’. Nobara didn’t finish putting the newly donated books away. Sighing, you check the books and push the small cart to the aisle so you can put them away.  

You hum a light tune until the bell dings. “Welcome!”  

Pushing the cart to the front, you greet the person with a smile. They tell you what they’re looking for in exchange for the bag full of classic books they give you. As mandatory, you study the books for any rips, stains, writings, drawings, and other signs of wear that would make the book ineligible to be donated.  

  Only three of them passed.  

  “Alright, you have a credit of five. You can use it now or later.” They frown. “I just gave you a shit ton of books?” 

“Yeah, but other than these three, the rest are too messed up for us to take.” Please, don’t argue. 

And of course, your prayers go unanswered as they begin to raise their voice at you. “Stop yelling. Please understand that these books here,” You push them towards the owner. “Are in terrible condition. I cannot take them.” 

  They really are. A giant coffee stain in one, a ripped page in another, and one of the covers are barely together. The three that passed inspection barely made the cut. They will have to be half price. 

“I’ll take my business elsewhere then.” Tired of them, you push the three towards them as well. “Here. Please go.” 

 They huff and shove all their books into the plastic bag. Grouching and complaining, they slam the door open and leave.  

It isn’t every day that this happens but lately it is becoming common. Ever since summer vacation is over, there have been a few students here and there looking for books. Mainly, textbooks. Unfortunately, not many people donate them. Even if they did, many schools tend to switch books frequently, which makes textbooks age like milk and practically useless.  

  Still, donations would be nice to those who still need those editions.  

  Rubbing your hands together, you put on a pot of coffee. If you are going to have to deal with customers, you should at least have a pot or so.  

The bell dings again. Your day is ruined by that one worm, so you don’t smile. Dramatic? Yes. Do you care? No. 

  The customer walks to one of the aisles and begins to search. You'll be of assistance if they need help. The pot of coffee is not brewing fast enough. It is about halfway done by the time the customer comes to the front. You face the customer and don’t quite know what to expect when it is that one pink haired guy from before.  

  “You stalking me, sweets?”  

“No, I work here! You are stalking me.”  

“If you say so.” He places the book on the counter. Quickly, you check it out, not wanting to talk to him more than you have to. “Hey, why are you so rude?” 

“I’m not rude.” You say in a matter of fact-tone. “Yeah, you are. I’ve been nice to you all day and you’ve been so snooty.”  

“I am not snooty.”  You cross your arms and frown. It is the condescending feeling he’s giving, and the fact that he thinks he knows you so well.  

No one knows you better than you.  

“What do you call all that then?” 

“Goal oriented.” He hums and runs his tongue along his teeth. “What are your goals?” 

You begin to check out his books. “Art. You?” 

You don’t tell him the ultimate goal, of course. And like almost every person in your predicament, it’s stability, security. You're tired of the unknown and the possibility of losing everything. Tired of caring for everyone and everything else because of someone else’s irresponsibility. 

You want to live and do it for yourself. 

 “Normal stuff.”  

You look up at him with an eyebrow raised. “ It'll be ten fifty, please.” 

He hands it to you in cash. His book is placed in the store’s bag. Before he can leave, you shoot him a question. “You don’t read, do you?” 

“Not much.” He leaves you. 

----

After meeting him, you end up seeing a lot of Sukuna. He comes by the store every day to bother you, teases you, and walks you to school. Lately you’ve noticed the crime rate going up, but not a single crime is near you. For a bit, the owner was scared for the shop. Fortunately, nothing has happened. Nobara, of course, is suspicious but you can’t blame her.   

  Out and about with Sukuna, you reveal that you take care of your baby sister. Even though Sukuna has become a constant in your life, you are still leery about them meeting. “You understand, right?” 

He carries the items you intend to buy. “Yeah, I’d be freaked if you were too eager.” 

“It’s just the damn crime rate’s up and we just met-” 

“And here we are.” 

“Shut up. Anyway, I’m being cautious.” Sukuna chuckles. “I know. You don’t have to explain,” 

  You smile at him. Talking to him is so refreshing. There isn’t pressure and you don’t have to watch what you say. The two of you come together so naturally.  

   “What do you know about the crime rates anyway?” You pick up a candle and smell it first, then have him smell it. Sukuna hums and gives you a slight, ‘gimme’. You place a candle in his large hand.  

“I know that they’re becoming more frequent. Way more violent, too. Not much as robbing as it is assaults and murder and drugs.” 

“Murder?” 

  “Yep. Just the other day, a guy was in an ‘accident’ and what did they find? A message carved on his stomach or something. It's crazy!” It was on the news. The accident is believed to be staged, obviously. You found out about it at work. Nobara and you of course had your theories and assumptions on what the message could have been and who the culprit was.

   “Well, don’t worry about all of that, alright? You're fine.” You side eye him as you put your items on the belt to check out. Immediately, he cuts in front of you to pay. “You don’t have to...” 

“I’m doing it anyway.” 

    Most of it is for your sister anyway. A coloring book and crayons, some fruit snacks, a toy that she’s been wanting for months, and a cheap pair of sneakers. The candle was something on sale that you picked up on a whim. 

  “Sukuna, you don’t have to. I'm serious.” 

He carries the bags. “Always this stubborn? You can’t even accept help?” 

“I’m used to doing it all.” You awkwardly laugh as guilt settles in your gut. It makes you so uncomfortable knowing someone else bought your sister’s things. You have been taking care of her for so long, it’s weird. 

   He stares at her little shoes. “You need to relax, sweets.” After noticing that you are still uncomfortable, he adds, “I enjoy it. Let me take care of you.” 

Your head is down so he can’t see how wide your eyes have gotten. The last time someone took care of you, you were a child and your sibling wasn’t thought of. Now, Sukuna, someone you met not long ago, wants to?  

After all these years, you don’t know how to handle that. 

You find yourself at another store trying on the cheapest shoes there. Sukuna comes up to you with an adorable pair of kid shoes. “What size shoe do you think I wear?” 

“They’re not for you, dumbass. They’re for the kid.”  

“She already has a pair, remember?” 

He rolls his eyes. “And now she has two. And these are better.” You sigh, giving up on explaining that she’ll grow out of them in no time.  

  “Here, put these on.” You sigh as he gently places a heel on your foot. It's black and with the finest leather and comes to a delicate point. “What am I going to wear this for?” 

Sukuna buckles the straps on your ankle. “For me.” You scowl at his smirk and laughter at your expense. “Here, look,”  

He has you stand in front of a mirror. “See how good you look?” You hum in response. They're pretty and make you feel pretty. You find them to be a pair that’ll fit for different occasions. “What’s not to like, sweets?” 

  You suck in your lips. “You’re right, fine. I do look good in them.” You would have been able to keep that mindset had you not seen the price point. “They’re hideous, put them back.” 

  “They’re yours.” 

“I can’t afford them.” He has already done too much. Sukuna rolls his eyes at you. “I can.” 

All the pairs of shoes ring up to a ridiculous amount. You can’t even look at it or Sukuna. He grabs your chin. “Stop it.”  

No matter what, the feeling of guilt and unease is too strong to just ignore. 

The next time you see Sukuna, you are at a park during your lunch break. In your bag are art supplies that you thought of bringing in case you got bored. Now, it is just up to finding what to draw.  

“Sweets, what’re you doing out here?” You shrug your shoulders. He sighs and sits down next to you on the grass. “Why are you still mad?” 

“I’m not mad. I'm just not used to it. I'm always the one taking care of things and you pop up taking my responsibility away...I don’t like it.” 

He plucks the blades of grass. “I will only say this once. So, fucking listen," He takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I’m sorry. I wanted to do something for you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 

  “You didn’t hurt me, Sukuna. You couldn’t.” Sukuna looks at the birds in the sky flying freely. In the silence between you two, you take it. With each stroke Sukuna manifests on the paper. The essence of peace and security is slowly being captured on the canvas.  

“What’re you doing you little brat?” He takes a peek at it. It is a rough version of him. It captures the serenity and beauty of him, though. “Hm.” 

“Do you like it?” 

“Hm.” Is all he says with the slightest curve of his lips and tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks. Although this is also picturesque, you’ll keep this part of Sukuna for yourself. For your blessed eyes only. 

  Soon, the rough portrait is done. You are so focused on it, you don’t see the softness in his eyes, but you do feel the roughness of his calloused fingertips as they caress your face in adoration. 

------

“(Y/n), I'm just saying I saw him there. Not that he did anything!” Nobara exclaims after sipping her overly sweet coffee. 

“Well, it sounds like it.” The two of you have been going back and forth for about thirty minutes because Nobara saw Sukuna standing and acting suspiciously. And, well, doing what you thought he did when you first met him. 

Not that you’d admit it. 

“Damn it, Nobara. What were you doing there anyway?” You ask as you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee. You need something to distract you. Anything to deflect this.  

  “Don’t do that. I was passing by to go to the fucking station. He was out in the open.” After a moment or two of complete silence, she breathes. “I want you to be safe and know what you’re getting into.” 

  Immediately you scoff. 

  “You act like he’s some dangerous criminal ready to chop me up into little pieces. Would a criminal tuck my sister into bed? Or let me read to him? Keep my paintings and support me? Protect me? Or-” 

“Oh my God. I’m not saying he isn’t sweet to you. I am just telling you what I saw!” 

“Am I interrupting?” Both of you turn around to see a tall man stand there with his eyebrows raised. You suck in your lips and shake your head no. Nobara recovers quicker than you and smiles at the man.  

 “No, no, no! Just a tiff among friends. Y'know, friends who look out for each other and recognize danger.” 

Your eye twitches but you don’t retaliate. Not when there is a much needed customer.  

   “Have a look around! Let us know if you need anything.” You put on a smile for the man. He nods and looks around. There is something off about him. At first, you think the cold aura is in your head, but Nobara sticks close to you with the same thing in mind. 

He's dangerous. Something is wrong. 

What is he doing here? No way is he actually looking for a book. All he’s doing is looking at the walls and pretending to skim the novels. Nobara grabs your hand and squeezes. She's shaking and he hasn’t even done anything remotely threatening. 

Maybe it is the way he moves. Gracefully, like a ghost. Or the muscles that form his body that his shirt struggles to contain. It doesn’t look like he has a weapon on him. Perhaps it isn’t needed. 

  What is this heaviness around him? The chill you get when he turns the corner of every shelf. How he looks at you with a curious and studying gaze. Is this bloodlust? The hair on your arms is raised. Nobara, who isn’t afraid of anything or anyone, is scared. 

  “Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” You are pinching your thigh to keep a steady voice. “No.” 

  He grabs a random book that he didn’t even look at and places it on the counter. The nameless man says nothing when you ring it up. He pays with crinkled up cash and a wink in Nobara’s direction. 

   Once he leaves, she runs to the door and locks it. “Did you see what he did?!” 

“What?” 

She groans and explains that he checked out the store to rob it. “Why would he rob it? A bookstore of all places?” 

  “I don’t know...but tell me you weren’t scared!” You cannot deny it. There's something wrong. 

  Nobara goes out with Megumi and Yuuji to lunch immediately after. She makes you swear to lock the door and not let anyone in until she comes back. Lately, the usual busy time isn’t until another hour anyway, so it’s an easy promise. 

   You’re putting on another pot of coffee when the first shot happens. The bullet goes right through the pot that you’re holding and shatters the glass. A scream is caught in your throat. More bullets come through barely missing you. You duck and see the store’s merchandise suffer from the insanity.  

You grab your phone and in a state of panic, call Sukuna and tell him everything. He can hear the glass and the wicked noise.  

“Stay down, and crawl to the back hallway. I'll handle it.”  

It was the hallway the man didn’t see.  

  You do as he says and wonder if you should call the authorities. Maybe Sukuna will. You don’t know why you called him instead of the police. It was just a quick reaction. 

Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.  

Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this. 

And yet, you don’t want to look outside and see what is happening. 

The police did come after Sukuna came in through the backdoor. He told you that the bad men were gone and for you to tell the cops that the shop was attacked and that you hid the entire time. You did as you were told. 

  Who they were, why they were there, what could have happened to them? You don’t know. You were hiding. 

  The shop keeper was furious but grateful for your safety. Nobara, too. But she knows better.  

-----

“What’d you doing now, brat?” Sukuna likes to bother you at work, home, and especially at the museum now that you got accepted as an intern. “Working!” 

  “That’s too heavy for you.” He grabs it. “Where do I put it?”  

“Here.” You gently guide him on where to put the sign. After, he decides to stick around and help you with the heavy things. Of course, you watch as his arms flex whenever he picks something up.  

   “Hey, Sukuna,” you start. The two of you are alone right now with nothing but the art witnessing the conversation.  

“What are we doing?” 

  He stops and furrows his brows. “What?” 

“Like, what are we?” Do you really want to know his answer? Then again, the rejection will make it easier to let go, you think. Or maybe you want him to release you? To push you away so you don’t have to think about that night anymore. 

  He comes up to you from behind. Sukuna's arms wrap around you and his chin rests on your shoulder. “I’d like for you to be mine.” 

  You scoff and try to step on his toes. Playfully, Sukuna bites your ear, causing you to shriek and laugh.  

“If you two are done now-” 

 You jump at the sound of your boss. “Sorry!” You grab your boyfriend’s hand and rush past her.  

Boyfriend...wow. 

-----

  

 You tuck your little sibling into the bed. After reading their favorite book in the character’s voices, she went fast asleep. Sukuna wished her a goodnight on the phone, too. The smile she had on her face was picture worthy. She seems to like him a lot. 

  Although, you couldn’t tell her the truth as to why he wasn’t there in person. So, telling her that he was just at work sufficed. 

   After putting away her new shoes and the dinner dishes, you rest on the couch. The museum has a big showing tomorrow. All the lifting and organizing took a lot out of you. However, you are excited more than anything. He doesn’t know it yet, but your drawing of him got a place in the local’s art section. 

   Right as you close your eyes, your phone rings. “Hello?” 

“Come to the museum, right now.” Your boss demands before she hangs up. Her tone gave you pause. Not because of how rude it was, but because of how stressed and worried. 

   Quickly, you put your sister’s shoes on and wrap her up in her blanket. Unfortunately, you don’t have anyone to watch her. Your mother is as useless as your father is.  

   “Where are we going?” She sleepily asks. “Sh, go back to sleep.” Immediately, she does.  

  Besides, you aren’t sure if you really want her to be awake during this. 

- 

 

Your breath is taken away at the sight. Flashing colors of the police cars illuminated the night. Everything you worked at was completely destroyed. The museum walls, the art, and most specifically, Sukuna’s portrait, are ruined. 

   Your boss is tapping her foot as she is lost in thought. Suddenly, she notices you. “There you ar-” She stops when she sees the bundle you are carrying. 

“I didn’t have a babysitter.” 

She takes a deep breath. “Look around. Do you see all of this? The museum is totaled.” 

“I see that, ma’am.” She walks to you. “Your boyfriend’s picture in particular suffered.” She stops walking. “I need to know. Are you involved in this?” 

  “No! Not at all!”  

“I won’t press charges on you. But I do need honesty.” Your eyes are wide. “I am serious! I really don’t know!” 

You pray that she can hear the sincerity in your voice. 

 She sighs. “Ok, I believe you had nothing to do with it.” She looks down before she continues. “But I do not believe that you are ignorant as to why it happened. (Y/n), I’m going to have to terminate the internship.” 

Your breath is caught in your throat. “F-for what?! I didn’t do anything!” 

“You are a smart girl. You need to choose who you are around better.” She leaves you in the street, surrounded by darkness. 

Your arms begin to get tired from your sister’s weight.  

“Lord, I am so tired...” You whisper in the night. 

  After this, you didn’t get another internship. Not with Sukuna’s mark on you. 

-----

You go to the park a few days later so your sister can play with the other kids. She wanted to call Sukuna and ask him to come. He never showed up even though he said he would. 

By the time dusk broke, you packed everything and went home to think. 

  After the museum incident, you got blacklisted by other museums around the city. Even private artists avoid you. Your professor, naturally, heard of the incident and lectured you about safety and how you should not have taken the internship for granted.  

It spread like wildfire. Your boss at the bookshop had a talk with you as well. Wanting to know if Sukuna was connected with the vandalism at the shop. You told him you didn’t know and that it was possible. He decided to let you keep your job, but you are on leave. 

Nobara filled the room with ‘I-told-you-so's. Though she stopped when she saw your vacant expression. 

  Everything you worked for is crumbling around you. At least Sukuna is looking for the bastard who did it, right? 

Sukuna kisses your cheek when he walks in. It's late and your little sister is already in bed. “I’m here. Sorry I'm late.” He settles down next to you, grabbing your hand and kisses it.  

“Sukuna, we have to talk.”  

“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again. There was just a little hitch.” You shake your head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about it, either.” You reply quickly with a snappish tone. 

  He looks confused at first then his face settles in a raised eyebrow. “Look, Sukuna, I can’t continue to endanger my sister and I anymore.” 

  Sukuna sighs. “You won’t be. I took care of it.” 

“I’m blacklisted and almost got fired. My boss is watching me tread on thin ice. I can’t lose my job or anything else.” 

  He says nothing but stares at you. “I think we should break up.” 

Pain shoots through your heart as the words exit your trembling mouth. You really, really, like him. Maybe even love him. “No.” 

  “Sukuna-” 

“I said no.” 

“That’s not how it works. I can’t keep doing this. I'm losing everything because of you.” 

“Me? You think I did all of this?”  

“No! You are connected to it! Everything all leads back to you!” 

  He grabs your face gently but firmly. “I took care of it, (Y/n). You’re safe with me.” 

“But my future isn’t!” You stand up. “I have dreams, goals, all of it! My sister does too!” 

“I’ll give you it all, for fuck’s sake!” He stands up too. 

“No, Sukuna. I'm not cut out for this life. Everything you do...it isn’t me.” 

“Thank God you’re not doing it then, huh?” You want to touch his face. To comfort him and take back everything you said. At the same time, you want to shake him into understanding.  “Sukuna, it’s over.” 

  He looks shocked. Like it is finally settling in that it is over, done. The lovely chapter is finished, and the page flipped.  

“I love you, (Y/n).” The air is sucked out of the room. Neither of you have said it before. You always thought you’d be the first one to admit it. “I love you too. God knows I do. But I am so tired.” 

  You worked so hard for it all to crash down so suddenly. Those nights of the attacks were a special breed of terrifying. You could have died that day in the bookshop. The internship is gone, your work unsalvageable. The bookshop put you on unpaid leave. 

   He walks over to you and presses his lips to yours. Despite what has just been said, you fall into it with passion. He presses his forehead to yours.  

   “You know you’re my girl, right?” You don’t say anything. “Give the kid a hug for me, will ya?” 

  He leaves. 

You cry. 

____

Two years later 

As it turns out, your gut feeling was right. The shop owner fired you when your weeklong leave was up. Nobara talks to you from time to time. You finished school quickly, too. Now, you have got a local factory job. Hell, you even sell a few art pieces here and there. It all pays decently but not enough to keep your old apartment. So, you had to get a smaller one in the less savory part of town. It’s alright as long as your head’s down.  

  You walk home with your sister in your arms. She talks about her school and her kindergarten teacher. Apparently, she does not like her and insists on calling her teacher a witch. 

  You try to pay attention but it’s hard to. Lately, your mind has been all over the place since the violence in the city has gotten a bit more frequent. From what you can tell, it is all due to one man: Sukuna Ryoumen. 

 At least, that’s what you heard. That he has gotten so big that the police won’t touch him and that this whole thing is just punishment for those who thought they could go against him. Whatever. It has nothing to do with you. 

That's what you have to remind yourself. Sukuna's dangerous. Not just to others but to you and your sister, no matter how much your sister says the opposite. That he was kind and that there was happiness. She isn't wrong about that part. But just because he showed you a part of himself, does not mean it's enough.  

 “Well, well, what do we have here?” You look up to see a man with scars on his face. Long grey hair and heterochromia add to his uniqueness.  

  “We don’t want any trouble.” You try to ease the situation and go around him. “That’s just too bad. I like the fight.” 

  “Ew.” Your sister looks at him with disgust. Just as he gets ready to take another step, you hear a deep voice from behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?” 

  “Kuna!” Your sister calls with a big smile on her face. The man steps aside enough for you to see Sukuna stand there with his hands in his pockets. He has more tattoos and is bigger now. He’s stronger and looks a lot meaner than he did when you knew him. 

  The man with the grey hair sputters. “Sukuna! Long time no see! How ya been?” 

“Ew.” Your sister says again. “Yeah, ew.” Sukuna agrees with her. Not that you don’t.  

    “I was just-” 

“Get out of my sight.” The guy doesn’t wait. He takes off down the street so fast. Something tells you he won’t get far, though. 

  Awkwardly, you say, “Thanks...”  

“You’re my girl, right?” He asks you. Your cheeks get warm at the question, but you don't answer. Not when the answer is obvious. Your sister jumps down and runs to him. Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to pick her up. He was always soft towards her. 

  “Come on, I'll take you two home.” A car pulls up, a model you can’t identify. He puts your sister inside and waits for you.  

  With a smile and warmth, you get inside. 

[clairewritesjjkxreader]

Yakuza x Cinderella AU Part 1 (Sukuna x Reader)

A/N: I listened to Sukuna’s Russian voice dub while writing this. Gave me some cool gangster vibes.

Everyone would have understood if you shed the “Itadori” name after old man Wasuke passed away, and no one would have blamed you if you walked away from being Yuuji Itadori’s legal guardian. After all, you just started college, you didn’t need to be “burdened,” especially by a kid you weren’t even related to.

But there was no way you could leave eleven-year-old Yuuji alone. You grew up changing his diapers, taught him how to ride a bike, cleaned up his boo-boos, and threatened his bullies. 

He was your family.

Prioritizing your baby brother and his future above your own, you decided to bartender at a fancy but sleazy bar. Although the majority of patrons were assholes and the place was too far from your house and the university, the pay was better than most other part-time jobs so you sucked it up.

Between your job, mandatory onsite classes, group assignments with lazy jerks, and taking care of Yuuji and the house, you could never afford to sleep for more than three hours a day. 

But Yuuji was, of course, an angel. 

He didn’t like to show it, but you knew he missed gramps, and you often caught him biting his lip to suppress his whimpers and wiping his eyes with his back turned to you. He did his best to appear strong, but you wished he’d rely on you more. But the little tiger never stopped doing his chores and liked offering to do yours.

“I can’t get a part-time job yet so all I can do is take care of the house and everything else!” When he said that, you swore an arrow pierced your heart and you almost died from fluffiness. 

Seeing Yuji’s bright smile was the only thing that kept you going, especially after a long day at the bar.

That’s where you met Ryomen Sukuna. He was the single most irritating bastard you’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. It wasn’t like he was a sleazebag per se–he was actually more of a silent, brooding type compared to the handsy, foul-mouthed drunkards you usually dealt with. At least, that was your first expression of him.

It was nine pm and your five minute break was almost over so you sent Yuji a good night text and a reminder to lock the doors and windows. You brushed your hair and went to your post behind the bar. 

This place was in the inner city, far from most schools, so it was rare to find college students here, but it was a Friday and the end of finals week so the place was jam-packed with depressed people. You didn’t mind. Actually, you preferred having a bar full of university kids over a bar full of working adults. You liked college students. They were… nicer, more polite and patient compared to their older counterparts, who were usually middle-aged career men and women whose dreams have been shattered by the real world. Your regulars were broken and pathetic, and they often liked making their problem yours. You’d “listen” to their ramblings, nod and pretend to care, when in reality their words just went in one ear and left straight out the other.

You didn’t like talking or socializing. You left that part up to the waitstaff and prepared the drinks as quietly as possible in order to avoid trouble.  

It was nearing one am, almost time for you to go home. You finished wiping the last piece of glassware when the store bell rang. You didn’t bother to even pretend to be polite this time and continued cleaning up, waiting for one of the waiters to tell the guest that the bar was already closed. But that didn’t happen. 

“The VIP room is a little unclean right now, so if you’re willing to wait–”

“What do you mean unclean? You should always keep it ready,” a cold, androgynous voice reprimanded.

You were annoyed. And a bit confused. You’ve been here for several weeks now and you just found out about this so-called VIP room. And up until now, the personnel here always shooed away all customers during closing. 

“It’s fine, Uraume,” a deep, husky voice interrupted. “I’m fine waiting here. Just get me my drink.”

You raised your eyes and saw a tall man in a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, bringing attention to his… big veiny hands and sinewy arms, lined with black tattoos. 

“O-of course!” Your boss clasped her hands together. “Please excuse me, I’ll get the sake ready in a bit.”

As if sensing your gaze, your tall, red-haired stranger turned his head, revealing a face also full of tattoos. You blushed but composed yourself and bowed in greeting. You refused to make eye contact again though, too embarrassed that you were caught ogling. He was more gorgeous than most idols and sports players that showed up on TV.

“On second thought, I think I’ll sit at the bar.”

Ah, crap. 

“Oh, um…!” Your boss fumbled towards you, putting a hand over your shoulder. “Th-this is Y/N. She’s new. Really new, I don’t think you’ve met yet.” It felt odd watching your usually calm and charming boss act like this. She was the one who dealt with perverts and other difficult clients, all without getting too emotional or stuttering, but she seemed almost afraid of this man. “Y/N, this is Mr. Ryomen Sukuna, he owns this bar.”

That name certainly felt familiar, but you sucked at names, and as for his face… you glanced up at his smirking face. Yeah, there was no way you’d forget a guy like him. Even if you just saw him walking down the street for a split second you would remember him for sure. 

Your boss squeezed you and you quickly bowed your head again. “Um, hello, thank you for the opportunity.”

“You seemed irritated when my companion and I walked in.” 

“No, you must be mistaken.”

“Really? You couldn’t even be bothered to greet us. Bartenders are supposed to be friendly.”

You just tilted your head, contemplating on what to say next when your phone started ringing from the counter. Mr. Sukuna swiped it before you could blink. 

“Hey!” Your sudden burst of energy shocked you and your boss. You slapped a hand over your mouth. “Er. I mean… I apologize.” 

“Shouldn’t phones be on vibrate during work hours?”

“It was on vibrate. We’re supposed to be closed now.” Welp. You were already as good as fired so you didn’t try to cover up your weariness. Yuji sometimes woke up randomly in the middle of the night. He was probably wondering where you were. You held out your hand. “Can I please have it back now? Sir?”

Like you just told the world’s funniest joke, he threw his head back, laughing heartily. 

Despite your boss almost fainting on the spot thanks to your little stunt, you didn’t get fired. Sukuna seemed absolutely smitten with you–that is, as much as an owner can be smitten by a pet hamster. 

It was the beginning of an irritating, one-sided relationship. 

Ever since that day, Sukuna began frequenting the bar more often. Sometimes three times a week, other times almost daily. Rather than stay at the VIP room, he’d hang out by the bar and find many ways to piss you off, like hitting on you, annoying you until you talked about either Yuji or your classes, and asking you to make some complicated cocktail he heard from a business partner, only to then insult it (he’d always finish the thing though). At the very least, he didn’t try touching you inappropriately. And plus, his childish fascination with you meant he demanded you hang out with him immediately after you finished preparing someone else’s drink, so you didn’t have to listen to other people whine about their lives and you didn’t have to make up excuses with the more gropey customers.

To be continued…

[risuola]

I — NOT YET // When a guy in the club tries to assault you, you ask a random stranger to pretend to be your boyfriend. Little that you know that out of all people, you chose a mob boss.

contents: smut, mafia!au, briefly mentioned assault and tiny bit of violence, Sukuna (yeah, I consider him a warning), reader discretion is advised — 2,7k words

a/n: mada... mada mada~ the very second I heard this menace toying with Panda, Kusakabe and the rest in Shibuya, not allowing them to move unless he say so - my head went straight to the idea of him playing the same game in bed.

ᴅᴇᴀᴅʟʏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ | masterlist

Sukuna never had to get used to being interrupted. Never. Anytime it happened in the past, all he had to do was to glance at the person and it usually got the message across. His gaze has enough power in it to quickly inform the intruder why invading his personal space or cutting him half-sentence is a damn bad idea. One look from him usually was enough to make anyone reconsider if they really want some problems. Sukuna had his eyes trained to be sharp and cold, his body strong and intimidating and his aura dangerous. He spent years building his reputation, earning a position in his world that now guaranteed him calm.

Now everyone and their mothers know that he’s not the one to cross paths with. He’s a VIP, he’s allowed everywhere and he has no qualms about killing someone. Ryomen Sukuna is a brand, he’s a threat, he’s untouchable, invincible. No one in the right mind would ever try to start anything with him at this point. That’s why, when he tried to relax in one of many clubs that he owns in Tokyo, he couldn’t believe someone had the guts to push onto him at the bar.

“Hey, sorry, can you please pretend to be my boyfriend for a second?”, he heard near his ear and following the sound and the soft tug on his elbow, he turned his head towards you. Lucky girl, he thought while quickly assessing the view. You were too god damn pretty to be killed, looking at him with those pleading eyes that glistened in the harsh artificial lights. You were visibly scared of something, or someone, and oddly enough it wasn’t him who brought you to the verge of tears.

“Your boyfriend, huh?”, he mused, allowing his eyes to trail down your figure. The dress you had on left little to imagination and yet he wished to tear it off to see more of you. It hugged the shapes of your body perfectly and the silky fabric betrayed the lack of bra underneath. You were attractive, but clearly not smart enough to think twice before approaching a stranger.

“Please, I beg you, this guy—“, you tried to explain, squeezing your perfectly manicured fingers around his veiny forearm, but your sentence was cut in half when a man grabbed you by the waist, pulling you away just a little and harshly pressing your back against the bar. Sukuna watched as you winced when your spine hit the edge of the wooden countertop, he watched for a moment how you tried to push the guy away. With no effect, you weren’t strong enough to stand against him, you were trapped between the unwanted body and the furniture behind you, fighting the hungry hands that were groping your figure.

“Naoya, get off of me—” you tried, pushing his face away from where he was trying to suck a spot onto your neck.

“Oh, shut up woman, I know you want it,” the blonde-ish idiot grinned, twisting your arm enough to make a space for himself. He wasn’t bothered in the least with the fact he was trying to get between your legs in the very center of a club. Sukuna’s club.

Ryomen zeroed the whisky in his glass and got up from the chair. Usually, he would ignore situations like this. Other people’s problems were none of his business and he had enough his own things to take care of, to bother himself with anything else, but you. You were a problem he was willing to explore.

“Zenin, huh?”, he asked, connecting the name he heard falling from your lips with the wannabe gangster he heard about many times before. There was a certain reputation tied to Naoya’s name, mostly regarding his treatment of women but as long as he wasn’t touching his women, Sukuna couldn’t care less about this trash of a man. You definitely were not his woman. Yet.

“The fuck you want, I’m busy,” Zenin groaned, pulling his nasty mouth away from your shoulder for just a moment, only to shot a glare to the club owner.

“I can tell that you’re busy,” Ryomen grabbed one of Naoya’s wrists. It wasn’t looking like a hard grip, but the face of the blonde betrayed the sharp, bone-breaking pain he felt.

You felt some kind of relief when the stranger you just met stepped between you and your unwanted date. The large body of him towered above you completely, he was bigger than you thought when you approached his sitting form, but you couldn’t think about it for too long when he dealt with Naoya so easily. Once the blonde was gone, he turned to you.

Your heart skipped few beats once you took the image in. The man was huge, way taller than you and built like a greek god. The sharp outlines of his muscled torso beautifully showed through the dark graphite dress shirt. Looking up, you could finally see his face clearly. His features were attractive, dangerous with the black tattooed lines around them. He could easily be a gangster or something.

“T-thank you,” you spoke finally, snapping out from the initial impression of him. He was a red flag, you knew that. If not for the circumstance, you’d probably be the first to run away from him. He was hot. An absolute smokeshow, but he was certainly bad news.

“Was he your date?”, he asked, pulling a chair that he was sitting on previously and twisting it to position, before his large hands landed on your hips. There was no effort whatsoever when he lifted you and sat you down on the seat. He opted to stand next to you.

“No… I came here with a friend, but she left earlier. I was just about to leave as well, but this guy stopped me,” you sighed. “He wouldn’t let me go, I was afraid that he’ll just walk after me to my home. I’m sorry I interrupted you.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. The gesture in itself was soft, but you shivered underneath his touch nonetheless. You couldn’t quite tell what made him so… scary. Was it his overwhelming frame? Or maybe the calm, distant demeanor? He had authority, he was expecting submission and when he was looking at you, you felt like a prey of him. Strangely, you were quite fine with that. You had no wish of doing anything with Naoya, but this man… he was different, he was interesting, he made you cross your legs just to feel any kind of pressure between your thighs. “Your name?”

“Y/n,” you replied.

“Y/n. Nice,” he gave it a soft nod and ordered two drinks. “Ryomen is my name. Sukuna Ryomen. Memorize it.”

“Sure…”

At this moment, you had no guts to ask why was it important to imprint the name he told you into your brain, but it all became clear just barely two hours later. You couldn’t exactly recall the moment Sukuna led you out of the club and into his car. There was something so enticing about his entire aura that made you lose your ability to think. He made you break every rule you ever had for yourself – to not talk with strangers, not go with them anywhere. Before that night you were doing exceptionally good in avoiding danger, you somehow slipped through your life up until that point without any major problems, but once you faced the problem, it was a big one.

The talk was good, it flowed easily and the menacing aura that Ryomen had all around him kept you interested. You had no idea that you’re attracted to bad boys, and maybe you were not exactly into school hooligans. Turned out, you’re aroused by the much worse kind – the kind that keeps a gun behind his belt, drinks pure whisky and makes people run away just by shooting them a glance. Yeah, that seems to be the kind of men you are into, because if there was any common sense left in you, you’d be out the door and running towards the safety of your dormitory. If there was any self-preservation instinct in you, you’d be probably anywhere else, rather than in here.

In the most luxurious house you’ve ever seen, not to mention been inside of; somewhere in the outskirts of Tokyo where you were not even sure how you can get back to your home from there. If you were just a little smarter, you’d for sure be in your own bed right now and not on the dark leather couch, with your silky dress scrunched up around your waist and your underwear torn to pieces and laying on the floor. If you had more braincells, maybe you wouldn’t be bouncing on that stranger’s dick right now, gripping onto his muscular shoulders as one of his large hands kept your hip in a dead grip, leading your moves up and down his girthy length and the other one tightly squeezed around the back of your neck, from where he was keeping his head close so he could kiss you so hungrily it took your breath away. But that’s just where you were. And you wouldn’t change a thing.

He felt so goddamn good, filling your tight hole to the very brim, stretching you to the point of delirium and he wasn’t even fully in yet. His moves were aggressive and yet sensual; he made you feel small even if it was you who was on top of him. You had no control, he made it clear with the way he was holding you and every time you tried to dominate him in any way, he quickly showed you your place back. Maybe later, he’ll let you have your way with him, but now, he was in charge.

“Think you can take all of me?” He asked against the delicate skin of your neck, now painted in red and purple marks he nibbed onto it. You could feel him grinning at the way you squeezed your little hands on his clothed biceps. He got you all exposed and yet he only allowed you to free his dick; his shirt was still buttoned up, his pants were still on his legs. There was a certain dominance shown in the way he got you all naked on top of his suit.

“N-no,” you breathed out, “too big.”

“Oh, I’m sure you can.” Sukuna doesn’t exactly accept no as an answer and he for sure gave you enough time to accommodate to his size. “You’ll take it and thank me for it, yeah?”

“Yes,” was all you could mumble, before both of his large hands landed on your hips. The iron grip, you were sure, was going to bruise you but now, it felt grounding in a way.

“Good girl,” he praised, his purr vibrated against your skin as he sucked yet another mark along your collarbone. It distracted you for a moment before he pushed your pelvis even lower, fully bottoming into you. Your clit made a contact with his lower belly, the harsh brush of his skin against the swollen bud making you moan louder than you were meaning to. You felt like all of your organs were moved out of the way just to make more space for his dick and Sukuna couldn’t be more satisfied by the way you took him in. “See? As if you were made to take this cock.”

Something incoherent left your mouth, a tear stained your cheek and the man was happy to lick it away, tasting the saltiness before he bucked his hips up, keeping yours in place. He took full control, thrusting into you with all the power he had in his muscular body and you held onto his shoulders with your little hands. The filthy, wet sounds were filling the interiors, bouncing off the walls and mixing with all of the whines and whimpers that were leaving your lips. Some grunts added to the melody, but you barely heard any of it, too consumed by the exploding pleasure between your legs.

Sukuna’s name was leaving your mouth like a prayer, you felt so close, you felt like falling and you had no intention to stop. The man grinned, licking a long stroke along your throat, his tongue curling upwards as it reached the tip of your chin. The taste of your skin felt intoxicating to him, he wanted to devour you whole, to keep all for himself.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His voice was taunting. “You’re clenching around me so fucking hard, you’re gonna milk me as well.”

“Yes, yes, please,” you near damn begged, chasing the bliss that you could almost taste on your tongue right now. It filled all of your body cells, rushed through your veins in ecstatic waves of lust.

“Not yet,” he ordered and it felt almost painful to force yourself back from the state of climax. You could tell he was playing with you, toying with his dominance, reminding you that it’s him who pulls the strings in here. And yet, he was still rutting into you, his movements completely different to what he was saying, he was fucking you like he wanted you to cum in that very moment. “Still not yet,” he teased, feeling your little fingers digging onto his shoulders, your manicured nails nearly making holes in his shirt as your eyes fell shut.

“Oh god, Ryomen, please,” you whined. Your thighs were shaking, your spine arching and the incredible tension below your stomach threatened to burst any second now.

“Now,” he ordered and just like that, all inside of you snapped. You came all over his dick, and you came hard. It felt like nothing you’ve ever experienced, like you were suddenly shot into another dimension and if not for the way he sped up his movements, you’d probably just get lost in the lustful feeling. Ryomen came just few moments after you, wrapping his arms around your waist and painting your walls white. You felt him throbbing, spasming inside of you, the hot seed gushed out of you as he was pumping it in, staining your thighs and the bottom of his black shirt. Then he pushed you down, fully onto his cock, plugging the way out for his cum.

You found his lips, swallowing his quickened breath as you kissed him with desire and he gave in, quickly dominating the kiss. You were tired, the muscles in your legs were burning from the intense exercise, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling of still wanting more. He made you hungry, he made you unsatiated and you were sure, you won’t be able to recognize yourself after you’re done with him. You were never such a greedy lover but frankly, you never had a chance to feel that good with anyone. The boys you’ve been with had no skills and if not for the orgasms you gave yourself with your fingers, no one else ever brought you over the edge like Sukuna.

“Can you undress?” You asked him, your lips brushing against his as you mouthed the question and he chased your kiss with his head, grabbing your lower lip between his teeth. There was a certain expression painted all over his dangerously handsome features, the menacing aura amplified as he took his sweet time before replying.

“I can undress,” he began, yet there was a but hanging in the air. He had conditions and you were open to hear them. “I’ll give you two options, little kitten. Wanna hear ‘em?”

“Yes.”

“I won’t undress. You can pull yourself together and I can drive you back to your home now. But I can also take the suit off, carry you to my bed. Then you’ll stay with me till morning, but don’t have any hopes for a calm sleep, no. The night will be as filthy as it can get. You’ll be sore tomorrow, most likely exhausted.”

You blinked hearing the options. It was clear as day, stop there or continue? You knew the answer already, your body decided for you even before he came up with an offer.

“Will you drive me home as well if I pick the second option?”

“Of course.”

“Then let’s get you naked.”

[jellicatty]

Write more about ganster Sukuna, I NEED IT

Gangster! Sukuna really cannot get enough of his sweet girl. Now that he knows your dirty little secret, he's been using it as blackmail to get what he wants. Explicit pictures, lewd voicemails, and even asking you to give your used panties to him. What a dirty, dirty man!

Although Sukuna has been nothing but unforgiving with his requests, you still showed up to your cinema date; with a dangerously short skirt that you managed to wear without safety shorts. And Sukuna's just shocked? because first, you've been sneakily touching yourself to him every night and now this? you really want to get fucked, huh?

Don't worry, because as soon as you guys are inside the movie theater, his hand is immediately against your soiled panties. His fingers instantly plunging inside your wet cunt, your hips riding his soaked fingers. You give no fucks about the movie, not when he's verbally degrading you for letting a dangerous man like him violate your pussy in public.

Anyway, Gangster! Sukuna is a big meanie to his sweet, darling girl <( •̀ᴖ•́)>

[yanderenightmare]

Modern day soft (well, as soft as he gets lol) bf sukuna hcs PLEASEEEEEE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

Ryomen Sukuna

♡ TW: NSFW, underskirt peaking, ish innocent reader, not really hcs but anyway

♡ fem reader

He starts liking you by chance and entirely against his own will. Having a girlfriend is not something he had in mind.

He'd have girls then and there, don't get him wrong, easy one-night stands out on the town if and when he urged for it—even had a couple of sluts on demand he was familiar with—girls he knew would let him fuck them the way he wanted to, but they weren't any special.

And then there's you, who, by all means, shouldn't be any special either. But goddamn, you stick out like a sore thumb, how could he not notice you? The way you handle the back alley bar as if it's a cozy little day café with your fresh-out-of-college appeal, he can't help but think—what on earth is a sweet thing like you doing working here at the wrong side of town after hours?

Well, at least you can pour a drink. But still, what was the owner thinking hiring someone like you—a little lady in a skirt who can't even reach the top shelves without standing on a stool? It's almost to laugh at, and he would, but... sitting on his usual spot right at the counter, he's able to look straight up your skirt and see your pretty pink panties and that awfully teasing way it cups your cunt.

And it's absurd! Because he's seen and done so many depraved things in his life, seeing up a girl's skirt shouldn't be any different, but then that's exactly it—you were different. Not like any of the sluts he's had on his belt, you're... well... you're many things, but a slut isn't one of them. But he would love to make one out of you.

He gets a little drunker than usual nowadays—always requesting top-shelf stuff. You think he's a real big spender—completely unaware he's doing it all for a glimpse. Sitting there, twirling his bourbon, daydreaming what it would be like to have someone like you in his bed. He bet you would squeal a lot—you seem like the type who'd whimper his name and cling to him. You'd whine if he pulled your hair, cry if he slapped your ass, and be real shy if he made you cum on his tongue.

It's a nice thought. He might have jerked off to the image in favor of calling on one of his arrangements. But a thought was all it was. A girl like you would never do anything like that with a guy like him. After all, working at a shitty place doesn't warrant you need to stoop to the same standards. And you were still no closer to fitting in.

You'd been a little wary of him at first. Always by the counter right next to you—rough voice and a chronic harsh glare. His face tattoos didn't help either—looking like a seasoned gangster even though he couldn't have been all that much older than you.

No matter how much you pour him, he never seems to get very drunk. But it's not all the strange either, given the size of him—bulked and built like a bear. His muscles are so big you can see every cut of them through his tank—it's a surprise the fabric holds. He barely even fits through the door.

But he's a quiet guy. Studious. It seems he's always got something weighing down his mind, and given you're the bartender, and he's your best-paying and most regular customer, it might be high time you took it upon yourself to ask him about it.

"'Penny for your thoughts, big guy?" you ask, rubbing the residue from the bottom of a glass.

He doesn't seem like he's going to answer, and you feel regret for even having asked in the first place—like, geez, why would a rough and tough-looking guy like that share any of his thoughts with you? What were you thinking?

"Why do you work here?"

You stop to look at him, blinking. You didn't exactly expect a question in return. "Uhm," you hum in nonplus, unsure how to answer. But then again, the truth isn't so hard to relay. "I dropped out of college."

You have to giggle at the raised eyebrow he gives you.

"Don't look so shocked," you say, busying yourself with wiping down the dew rings left on the counter. "I just found out it wasn't for me. All those sheep walking the same path, eating the same grass, listening to the same boring shepherd... I thought I'd enjoy being a wolf more."

He scoffs softly, more so in acknowledgment than appraisal, you think, then looks down into his glass—his expression as dour as always, unreadable.

"You don't look like a wolf," he mutters at last, taking an indifferent swig.

Of course, you could have left at that. You knew most people would find your reasoning silly, but if you were to be a wolf, you'd have to flash your teeth, puff your chest, and prove it.

And so you do, "Well, that's 'cause I'm still in sheep's-clothing!" A smirk on your face as you fold your arms atop your chest with a raised chin. "But you better watch out! 'Cause one of these days, you'll walk in here, and I'll be even fiercer-lookin' than you."

That stunts him—even more so than your speech earlier. This time, he isn't even able to keep the surprise off his face. Who would have thought you'd be this brazen? Definitely not very sheep-like, even though you look it.

He scoffs again. Maybe he'll help you out...

"Oh yeah?" he grins—and it's the first time you've seen it. Almost a sneer, but way more charming than that—loud and unapologetic with a voice to match. "How 'bout you come to my parlor after your shift, and we get started on dirtying that pristine sheep fur of yours?"

And to his surprise, you don't even waver.

"It's a date."

That night, you get your first tattoo and your first time seeing stars, being folded flat like fresh laundry, and made to cum on a stranger's tongue piercing until screaming.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[kingryosukuna-archived]

You made my day much brighter, thank you Mr Sukuna! I’m kinda sad you don’t hear it more, you deserve to.

oh no! I don’t want to be taken out by gangster farmers!

I'm glad to hear that, love. No need to thank me, I'm fine with your happiness as my reward.

[mggsv]

SWEET LITTLE THING!✰

f!reader x ryomen sukuna | not proof read | reblog pls !<3

summary : just a look into the everyday life of Sukuna’s sweet little thing. Unfortunately today, Someone’s kidnapped Sukuna’s cute little idiot, and he’s not so happy about it.

warnings : bimbo!reader, plug/gangster!sukuna, age gap (reader is 22 sukuna is 26), bit of a crack fic, suggestive ending, Toji sneak

I am forever riding on Sukuna putting up with Bimbo reader and it being the cutest little thing while he does the most dangerous shit known to man. ✰

Sukuna wasn’t one to fool around with school girls. Did he sit there and gawk with his younger brother at them? Not often. Does he sit there and listen to Yuji rant about how badly he wanted to fuck them? Sometimes. Was he in on Yuji’s little ploy to fuck every girl he tricks into studying with him? Maybe he’d help out a bit, being the older brother he is. Now, did he drive these girls home? Yes. But did he fuck all of them? No, you on the other hand, that was a different story.

“Yujiiii…” you had whined, trailing behind him with a small pout. Your heels clicked across the concrete, your feet hurting from the long walk. “Can we stop please? My toes can’t breathe!” You both were out, not far from Sukua’s apartment that you shared together. Yuji visited often when he wasn’t staying in his dorm for the weekend. Sukuna went out to do his little business that keeps you both in the nice apartment while you and Yuji went to the store. He already regretted it the moment you put on that cute little pair of platform heels.

“I’m going into the store okay? You stay out here, i won’t be long I promise!” Yuji had told you. You whine but nod. “Okayy..don’t take long! Get me some chips please!” You were adorable to say the least. Not the smartest, but cute as hell. That’s what Sukuna liked about you. Speaking of, your phone rang. The cute little picture of Sukuna you took with his mouth full of your nipple as his contact photo. “Hi Kuna!” You smile into the phone. His hard expression softens seeing your face. He loved when you did your makeup, and secretly when you tried to do his (even though he fusses about it afterwards, that’s doesn’t stop him from taking pictures with you afterwards). “Hey mama.” You could see he was smoking. Leaning back in what seemed to be a couch. “You an’ Yuji alright?” You nod. “Mhm! He went into the store so i’m waiting for him outside.”

“Why the hell didn’t you go in with him? Didn’t i tell you it’s dangerous for you to be out on your own?” He could recall the first time he left you in the car while he went to handle business, coming back to some man hitting on you through the car window. He beat the man up..of course, but he still decided from that moment he’d keep his eyes on you at all times. And at this moment it was Yuji. “I’m sorry Kuna..” you frown, biting at your lip. He sighs and rubs his forehead, the blunt in his mouth going for the ashtray. “Show me the store mama.”

You smile and nod, flipping the camera. “Baby,” He had said lowly, clearly irritated. “Hm?” You flip it back around to show your face. “That’s a sex store.”

“Oh..do you think they have chips? I asked Yuji to bring me some.” You hum for a bit, looking down at your boyfriend who hid his smile despite how upset he was in that moment. “Doubt it. Look, mgonna call you back so I can call Yuji. Stay where you are, understand me?” You pucker your lips at the screen as if to kiss him, nodding, “Yes sir!”

That didn’t last long however. You hated being alone, let alone just standing there in heels. Your feet hurt and you were bored. You started to look at the outside signs of the store, which would be the last thing you see before everything went dark.

Sukuna knew he had to be patient with you. He didn’t mind because he loved you. But when he told you something he expected you to take it seriously. After yelling at Yuji so bad the whole store could hear how much Sukuna wanted to kick his ass, and telling him to get both your asses back home, he expected you to be where he told you to be. But once Yuji stepped outside you were no where to be seen. And nothing pissed Sukuna off more than you not answering when he called afterwards. Straight to voicemail, really? Oh he was heated.

“Hey pretty little thing..” you hear once you regain consciousness. Your body felt cold, you regretted wearing such a cute dress, but it was Sukuna’s favorite no matter what the weather would be. “Kuna..?” you groan, shutting your eyes tightly at the first sign of bright light. “Wrong name sweetheart.” You jolt, suddenly feeling scared. You could move, making out the soft cushion of what seemed to be a couch.

“Oh..Sukuna’s gonna be so mad at me..” You sniffle softly, looking up at the large man that wasn’t your lover. He gave you a small smirk before squinting his eyes. “What..you want to call em’?” He was enjoying this. You nodded, “yes please!” He hums and reaches for the phone on the table. “You know..i picked you up cause you looked familiar. Reminded me of this cam girl i used to watch while back.”

“Oh i don’t do that anymore! Kuna didn’t want to do it with me and didn’t want me having sex with other guys..” the man pauses before handing you the phone. “Thirsty?” He starts walking away, “Oh- Yes something to drink will be nice!” You watch as the man walks away and begin calling the number Sukuna made you memorize in case of emergency. The line rang twice before he picked up, “Who the fuck is it?”

“It’s me!” You squeal. Rocking back and fourth on the couch you listen to the silence on the other line before he sucked in a breath. “Where the fuck are you?” You knew he probably had that sickening frown you hated. “I’m not sure.. I just woke up here.” The man comes back, handing you what looked like water before motioning you to pass him the phone, “Oh- um, the man wants to speak now.”

“You tellin me you had such a treasure and didn’t share? Fuck kind’a man are ya huh?” you look down at the cup, biting your lip as Sukuna screamed at the man from the other line. You learned his name was Toji. Setting the cup down you stand, “Can I talk to him now? I wanna go home.” You hold out your hand for the phone. Toji, looks at you before scoffing. “She’s a stupid little thing, doesn’t even know what’s goin on. How ‘bout this- i want this much cash for the bimbo.”

It didn’t take long for Sukuna to come and find you. You sat on the couch while Toji chuckled to himself about the situation. You knew what would happen, he was unaware of course. You felt bad, knowing how Sukuna got when it came to you. Poor guy. When your lover did arrive he knocked on the door. Toji opened it with a wide grin, but it quickly wore off once Sukuna punched him dead in his nose..he fell to the floor quietly.

“Can I go home now?” You look at Sukuna who scoffed at you, holding out his hand. “Did you drink anything? He touch you? Open your mouth let me see.”

“I’m fine! I remembered not to drink from creepy men.”

Afterwards, he took you to your shared apartment, walking you past Yuji on the couch who had his head down. Sukuna sure scolded him, you knew. “Cmon we’re gonna take a shower.” He grunts as you tried to take the heels off as you walked towards your room. “Can we have sex afterwards?”

“I’ll see.”

read more here

[thepersonperson]

Tags from @mockerd3light.

#sukuna trying to seduce Gojo with his MAD waka skills #and Satoru Gojo heir to one of the Biggest clans of jujutsu who probably HAD to memorize Kokin Wakashu #*throws it in the trash can and opens the latest issue of jump to purge it from his brain* #i think it would be INFINITELY more funny if Satoru was extensively educated on Heian Era because *waves* jujutsu #which is why there is NOTHING between jump and the wakashu #because he actively purged it for comics that interest him THE MOMENT he had the chance

You’re probably right. Gojo sees himself and is treated by others as a living weapon so that’s all he cares about. He’s like one of those WW2 bros that hyperfocuses on the military/weapons facts and nothing else. That’s why he knows so much about the 3 Great Vengeful Spirits, Sugawara, the Fujiwaras, Sukuna, etc.—they’re strong. And if strength is all that matters in Jujutsu who cares about the social aspects like manners and junk. Gojo is here to inflict violence and have fun.

Sukuna was probably someone Gojo idolized as a model of strength growing up. He did call it an honor to be targeted by him. That being said, can you imagine? One of your most favorite historical figures somehow resurrects and one of the first things they say to you is "I'm going to kill you specifically, you bastard."

I’ve come to the conclusion that Sukuna and Gojo is what happens when a literature arts major courts a physics major using obscure Russian poetry.

[yandere-daydreams]

i see your no curses!sukuna as a tattoo artist or gangster or whatever headcanons but i know in my heart that he'd be a chef simply bc only chefs can be that bloodthirsty over something so petty. leave him a review below three stars and he will show up at your house less than an hour later ready to choke you to death with his bare hands. ask to get carry out for a dish he only serves in-house and he'll slash your tires and tack on non-optional 35% gratuity. he's not afraid to fight customers and definitely overcharges for literally everything but his food is so good that he gets steady business anyway. i just think it suits him.

[candycandy00]

The Doll House - A Choso x Reader Fanfic Part 1

When your younger sister is tricked into selling herself to the Doll House, you rush there to help her, only to find her being led away by her trainer, Choso. Moved by your desire to save your sister, he convinces the owner to let you take her place.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Nanami’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Choso’s. I’m keeping the tag list from previous parts. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. FemDom. Sub Choso. Oral sex. Foot kissing. Divider by @benkeibear!

Your phone won’t stop buzzing. Even with the sound turned off, it’s making a racket in your bag, disturbing the important meeting you’re in. With a sigh, you slip it out to look at the Lock Screen. Your younger sister has sent you several messages. Wondering what kind of trouble she’s gotten herself into this time, you tap the latest message to open all of them. 

“Sis, I need your help! It’s an emergency!!!!”

“Yosaku is in trouble with his dad. He needs money right now or the old man’s gonna kill him!!”

“We’re at the Doll House. Yosaku says he’ll win big at the next race and buy out my contract.”

“Guess I’m a doll now! Why won’t you answer me?! This is important!!!”

“The owner went to find a trainer for me. God, I hope I don’t get the BDSM guy!”

“Sis, I’m scared!!! Yosaku left and I don’t think he’s coming back!”

You clench the phone in your hand so hard, you almost break it. 

“Fucking Yosaku!” you shout, then notice the dozen pairs of eyes that all immediately shift to you. You’re so enraged that you forgot you’re in a meeting. You apologize and excuse yourself, quickly leaving the office building where you work and heading toward the Doll House.

Your sister has been dating the son of a small time Yakuza boss for a little over six months now, and the two bit wannabe gangster has already ruined her life. 

Before meeting Yosaku, your sister was always so sweet and never got into trouble. Despite only being four years older than her, you practically raised her. She’s the only family you have, and as such, you’re fiercely protective of her. 

So when she introduced you to Yosaku, six years her senior, good looking in a “bad boy” sort of way, and with a terrible personality, you knew he was bad news. The fact that they started dating almost immediately after she turned eighteen was a big red flag. It’s like he was waiting for her, like a vulture. 

She started getting into trouble within two weeks of meeting him. She got caught shoplifting items he instructed her to take (and he of course fled the scene when she was spotted). He got mad and ditched her in a dangerous part of town one night. He talked her into gambling away all her money. And a whole list of other things. Each time, you had to go and rescue her.  And each time, you begged her to dump him before he got her into real, serious trouble. 

Now she’s at the Doll House? Unbelievable! How could he convince her to give up ten years of her life for him?! You can only hope you make it there in time to stop the sale. 

When you barge in the front door, past a front desk with a startled receptionist, and into a large circular room, you find your sister. She’s being led away by a pale man with a strange hairstyle, and she looks like a deer in the headlights. 

“Stop!” you scream, rushing forward and ripping your sister’s arm out of the man’s hand. “Don’t touch my sister, you pervert!”

You don’t know a whole lot about the Doll system or the Doll House, but everyone knows the basics. The men here train women to be sex toys, usually with some bizarre fetish. A friend once told you a guy here makes his dolls crawl on the ground like a dog while wearing a butt plug. Unimaginable! 

The man looks at you, seeming confused. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m not anyone suspicious. I’m just her trainer.”

You place yourself in front of your sister, blocking his view of her. “You think I’m gonna let you train her to do depraved… sex stuff? I won’t let you hurt her!”

“I’m not going to hurt her,” he says, looking a little hurt himself that you would suggest such a thing. “My job is to prepare her to be a doll. I’m helping her.”

He seems so honest, but you can’t let yourself be fooled. “I don’t care what your job is. You can’t have my sister! Look at her, she’s just eighteen! She’s practically a baby! She’s still a virgin! You can’t turn her into-“

“Actually, sis, I’m not a virgin,” you hear your sister say behind you, making you wince. You assumed so, but it sucks to have it confirmed. Fucking Yosaku. 

You look at her over your shoulder. “That’s not important right now.” Then you turn back to the man. “Please, don’t take her. She’s the only family I have. She has her whole life ahead of her.”

The trainer’s face softens slightly, as if he feels bad for you. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but she already signed the contract. There’s nothing I can do.”

“But there has to be some way out of this! Her lowlife boyfriend coerced her!”

“What’s going on in here?” a voice asks. 

All of you look over to see a silver haired woman standing just inside the room. She’s holding a silk fan in one hand, the breathless receptionist standing beside her. 

“Who are you?” you ask her. 

She flips a long braid over her shoulder. “I’m the owner of this establishment. And if you’re here to stop a sale, you’re too late. Unless you want to pay some rather punishing fees for breaking the contract.”

You narrow your eyes. “Just how much are these fees?”

The owner snaps her fingers, and the receptionist scurries to grab a pen and paper. The owner writes something on it and the receptionist presents it to you. She wasn’t kidding when she said they were punishing! You’d never be able to pay this back! Even with your pretty good job. Your sister’s credit would be ruined forever. And you’d have to work yourself to the bone and you’d probably still lose everything. 

Your mind races. Think! Think! There has to be a way out of this! An idea pops into your mind. A terrible one, but it’s the only one you have at the moment. 

“What if I take her place?” you ask. 

Your sister steps out from behind you to look you in the face. “Sis, no, this is my-“

“Just be quiet,” you hiss, using the sort of tone you took while caring for her as a child. The “angry mother” tone, she called it. She falls silent. 

The owner looks you up and down. “I don’t know… We’ve never done something like that before.”

You get down on your knees, looking up at the owner with a pleading expression. “Please! My sister is young and naive. She can’t handle life as a doll. But I can! As the older sister, it’s my responsibility to protect her!”

Beside the owner, the trainer’s eyes widen. Then, suddenly, he moves over and gets down to his knees right next to you, bowing his head low. 

“I’m asking as well,” he says to the owner, shocking you. “Out of respect for her wanting to protect her sister, could you let them trade places? The older sister would be more suited to my training anyway.”

The owner looks slightly flustered to be met with such old fashioned, formal pleas. But she sighs and says, “Alright, I’ll go get the paperwork fixed up.”

As she walks away, the trainer stands up, then offers you his hand. Still somewhat in shock, you take it and let him help you up. 

“Thanks,” you tell him. “But why did you help me?”

He gives you a subtle smile. “I understand wanting to protect a younger sibling. I have a little brother I would do anything for.”

Wow, he’s actually pretty cute… for a sex crazed pervert. It just now occurs to you that he’s going to be your trainer now. This cute guy is going to be doing all sorts of depraved things to you! 

Your sister hugs you suddenly, her face wet with tears. “You didn’t have to do that! This was my problem!”

You pull away from her and stroke her hair. “Yes, I did have to do this. Just promise me one thing: that you’ll stay away from Yosaku. He’s dangerous! The next time he gets you into trouble, I won’t be there to help. Don’t make what I’m doing be for nothing.”

Your sister nods. “I promise! I’m all done with him!”

After reading over and signing all the paperwork, you and your sister say your goodbyes. Then you turn to your trainer and say. “Well, I’m all yours.”

He reaches out and gently takes your hand, then leads you down a hallway. He actually seems… sweet? You can’t imagine him doing perverted things to you. But he is a trainer here. Sooner or later, this man is going to have sex with you. You’re not some blushing virgin, but the thought still makes you a little embarrassed. 

Once inside his room, he shuts the door behind the two of you. His room looks surprisingly neat, clean, and comfortable. No crazy props or weird toys hanging on the walls. Thank goodness. 

“Feel free to sit down,” he says, gesturing toward a pair of chairs on either side of a small table. 

You walk over and take a seat, watching him a bit warily. You still don’t know what kind of fetish he specializes in. 

“I’ll tell you about my training,” he says, as if he can read your mind. You sit up straight in the chair to listen as he goes on. “I train women to be Doms. Dominant. I will call you Mistress. My name is Choso but you can call me whatever you like. I will do anything you tell me to. For the next six weeks, I belong to you. Oh, before you ask, I can’t get you out of the contract. That’s up to the owner, not me.”

Wait. What? He’s training you to be a Dom? You’ve heard the term before, but it conjures up an image of a woman in a black leather corset, cracking a whip. You’re supposed to do that stuff with him? 

“So, you’ll do anything I ask?”

He nods. “As long as it doesn’t violate any of the house rules, and is within my power.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. But you’re not naive. You know this is supposed to lead to things of a sexual nature. This is the Doll House after all. But at least you’ll probably get to do things at your own pace. You feel yourself relaxing slightly. 

“Can you get me a cup of coffee?” you ask, curious to see how he responds. 

“Of course, Mistress. How would you like it?”

“Hot. Heavy on the cream, no sugar.”

He gives you a small bow of his head. “Right away, Mistress.”

You watch him leave the room, then exhale deeply. Why does any doll trained by him ever do any of the sex stuff? Why not just make him rub your feet and bring you snacks for six weeks? You suppose that would defeat the purpose of being trained. What was it he called it? Preparing you to be a doll? Whoever your owner ends up being, he’s definitely going to expect some sex stuff. 

But do you have to initiate it? Command Choso to sleep with you? You can’t imagine doing that. 

He walks back in with a steaming cup and reaches it to you as if he’s a butler. You glance up at him, and you think he’d look really good in a butler uniform. 

You noticed it before, but he’s really cute. He’s like a quiet goth guy without the piercings. His hair is styled into two short ponytails, one on either side of his head. It’s not a style you’ve seen before, but it looks good on him. His clothes are a bit baggy, making you curious about what’s under them. 

The coffee is delicious, and Choso watches you drink it silently. After you sit the cup down, he asks, “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”

You think for a moment. “You’ll do anything? Even if it’s something embarrassing or demeaning?”

“Of course, Mistress.”

You frown. “I don’t know. It seems wrong to force you to do things.”

A gentle smile appears on his face. “If you’re concerned about consent, please don’t worry. I work here voluntarily because I like doing stuff like this. I’m happy to do anything you want. No matter what it is.”

There’s an eagerness in his voice that makes your heart beat fast. You take a deep breath and say, “Kiss my foot!”

You really just want to test whether he’ll actually do anything you say or not, and this seems like a relatively tame command. Actually it’s not sexual at all. 

Or so you think, until Choso gracefully drops to his knees in front of you and, oh so gently, removes your high heeled shoe from your right foot. Then his hands move to your thigh, sliding just under your skirt. You start to yell at him, but then you realize he’s pulling your stocking down, slowly sliding it down your leg and off your foot. 

His eyes lock onto yours as he carefully lifts your foot up in his hand, holding it up close to his face. He licks his lips, then presses them softly to the top of your foot as his hand caresses your ankle. 

Oh wow. Okay, you kind of get how this all turns sexual. Choso on his knees in front of you, so eager to please, is doing things to you. 

He stands back up, the tiniest hint of a grin on his pale face. He knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t be a very good trainer if he didn’t. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do, Mistress?”

Your heart is racing. You feel your face heating up. Fuck, did he just seduce you with a single kiss to your foot? You cough awkwardly and look away from his pretty face. 

“I’m not sure what else to make you do,” you say, then quickly add, “What would you do if I told you to strip?”

He instantly begins pulling his loose fitting shirt over his head. 

“Wait! I wasn’t serious! I was just messing around!” you yell, but his shirt is already off, dangling from his hand. Your eyes drink in his well defined torso, surprised by how toned he is. A cute face and a hot body? Plus he’s sweet and gentle? Is this guy the total package or what? 

You shake your head. You can’t let yourself fall for him. He’s your trainer. He’s done this same stuff, and much more, with lots of other women. And besides, in six weeks you’ll belong to someone else. You just hope whoever that is has half of Choso’s charm. 

“I’m sorry, Mistress, I thought you wanted me to undress,” he says, pulling his shirt back on. Why does he sound a little disappointed? 

Now you really want to see what he’s packing beneath those baggy pants, but you can’t bring yourself to command him to show you. Not so soon after meeting him anyway. 

“It’s my fault,” you tell him. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He smiles at you. It’s a very warm expression. “Please don’t worry about it, Mistress. I’m here to please you.”

*************************

Choso watches his new doll as she stands up and looks around the room. This will be her room for the next six weeks, so it’s good for her to familiarize herself with it. 

“Can I go get some of my things from home?” she asks. 

“Yes. You can leave the house so long as you come back by nightfall. That’s one of the house rules. If you go out at night, I have to go with you.”

She looks at her watch. “I guess I’ll just go tomorrow,” she says. “So what do we do for dinner?”

“There’s a dining hall where we all usually eat our meals,” he tells her, then goes on to explain what times meals are served and tells her about the small shared kitchen. He goes over some more house rules and also warns her that the other trainers all have their own styles, so she shouldn’t be surprised to see naked dolls or dolls in strange outfits.

She seems to be taking it all in fairly well. 

For dinner, she opts to stay in his room while he fetches plates, saying she isn’t quite ready to meet everyone else. She also tells him to eat at the small table in his room with her. Some dolls, perhaps angry about being dolls in the first place, order him to sit on the floor and eat. It doesn’t bother Choso, but he does think his new doll seems nice so far. 

“So you have a little brother?” she asks over dinner. 

He looks up from his plate, somewhat surprised. Some dolls ask a few basic questions at first, just to get to know him a little, but this one managed to get straight to his favorite topic. He smiles and says, “Yes. His name is Yuji.”

Her face looks kind, pretty, as she asks, “How old is he?”

“Nine,” he answers. “He’s a very energetic child, but he’s very sweet.”

She’s smiling, perhaps thinking of her sister. “He sounds adorable. Do you get to spend much time with him?”

Choso lowers his eyes to his food. “Not as much as I like. We only share one parent, and both of his have died. He lives with his grandfather now. I visit him as much as I can, and he visits me here occasionally. Oh, don’t worry, he doesn’t understand what I do here.”

They talk for a while longer, Choso eventually getting his phone and showing her pictures of Yuji. And he almost forgets, for a few moments, that she’s a doll and he’s her trainer. For those few moments, they’re just two older siblings smiling and talking. 

When night falls, Choso goes to take a shower. When he steps out, dressed in cozy sweats with his wet hair grazing his shoulders, his doll looks at him strangely. 

“Is something wrong?” he asks her, drying his hair with a towel. 

She blinks then averts her eyes. “No, nothing’s wrong,” she says, looking a little embarrassed before adding, “You look nice with your hair down.”

His doll decides to sleep in her clothes tonight, refusing his offer to wear something of his. And when it’s time to go to bed, he asks, “Where would you like me to sleep, Mistress?”

She wears a puzzled expression. “Uh, the bed?”

“Most dolls tell me not to sleep in the bed with them on the first night. I suppose they’re nervous, me being a stranger to them.”

She shrugs. “It’s your bed. It wouldn’t be right to force you out of it. Just don’t touch me and it’ll be fine.”

He stares at her. “You trust me already?”

She smiles as she climbs into his bed, staying on one side. “I think anyone who loves his little brother as much as you love Yuji can’t be a bad person.”

Choso feels his heart skip a beat, but he keeps his face neutral as he gets into bed, keeping a respectful distance from his doll. 

**********************

Two days later, you find yourself sitting in a chair in Choso’s room. He’s standing nearby, waiting for you to tell him to do something. These past couple of days, you’ve had him give you foot rubs, massage your shoulders, and brush your hair. All things pointedly not sexual. But in every case, Choso has made innocent actions seem incredibly sensual. 

The way his hands touch you, the way his eyes look at you with desire, they make you want to order him to fuck you right now. But you can’t do that. You’ve been trying to think of a way to make the orders you give him more sexy, but it’s difficult for you to just tell a man you barely know to start doing sexy things to you. 

You thought he was supposed to teach you how to be a Dom, but when you said that, he replied with, “It’s much better to just learn by experiencing things. So please tell me what you want me to do.”

Which was no help at all. You’re starting to think Choso isn’t a very good teacher. 

If he would just tell you what he wants, what he’d like for you to order him to do, this would be far less awkward! 

Wait. That might work!

“Choso,” you say, and he seems to perk up a bit at the sound of his name. “If you could pick one thing for me to tell you to do, what would it be?”

He smiles mildly. “I’d love to do anything you tell me to do, Mistress.”

“No. Give me a real, honest answer. This is an order from your Mistress. What would you most want to be ordered to do right now?”

He looks at you for a moment, then his eyes seem to get darker, a very slight pink flush to his cheeks. “What I’d most like to be ordered to do,” he says, keeping eye contact with you, “is to pleasure you with my mouth. To get on my knees in front of you while you spread your legs and stand over me, to taste you, to use my tongue to make you cum, over and over, until your legs give out.”

Oh shit. Are you seriously already wet just from hearing him talk about eating you out? There’s a hunger in his eyes, and you feel heat creeping across your face, your breaths quickening. Just imagining his pretty face buried between your thighs is making you horny as hell. 

“Okay then,” you say, standing up and trying to keep your voice steady, trying to sound confident and in charge even though you feel like you’re about to melt into a puddle of goo, “do it. Pleasure me… with your mouth.”

The way his cute, pale face lights up! He drops to his knees on the spot, and slowly crawls over to you. When he reaches you, he puts his hands on your thighs and carefully slides your skirt down, looking you in the eyes as he does it. 

“Mistress, may I please remove your panties?” he asks. 

You feel like you can barely breathe as you nod and say, “Yes, you may.”

His gentle hands rub upwards, until they reach the top of your lace panties, and then he eases them down your legs, helping you to step out of them once they reach the floor. This leaves you standing in his room, naked from the waist down, while he kneels in front of you. 

“Mistress, can you spread your legs?”

You feel your face burning as you move your feet further apart, giving him an eye full of your dripping pussy. He looks at it, then at your face, then licks his lips as if he’s about to dig into a tasty meal. 

And boy does he dig in! He runs his tongue up your slit, collecting any juices he can, then uses his fingers to open your folds. He takes a moment to look at your most private place, then says, “You’re beautiful, Mistress,” before slowly licking your pussy. His tongue circles your clit, then his lips wrap around it, and you can almost hear him slurping at your wetness. 

You look down at his face, only the top half visible, and his eyes shift up to yours. They’re half lidded, looking at you through his long eyelashes. 

As he makes out with your pussy, licking and kissing it so sweetly, taking his time, your legs begin to tremble. The pleasure is simply too much. You’ve been eaten out before, but never like this, never as if your clit is the most delicious thing on earth. 

“Ahh… Choso… I can’t…”

He pauses and glances up. “Are you alright, Mistress?”

“Y-yes, just… don’t stop, even if I tell you to. Not until I collapse,” you say, feeling slightly delirious. Did you really just say that?

“Of course, Mistress,” he says, then returns to devouring you. 

Your hands move to his head, and you find yourself pulling the ponytails free and letting his hair loose. Then you’re gripping it, hopefully not hard enough to hurt. You hear him utter a quiet moan, and the vibration of his voice against your clit as his lips suckle it gently sends you over the edge. 

You cry out, your hands tightening in his hair, your legs shaking and nearly giving way right then and there. His hands move around to your thighs and ass, holding you steady while his tongue laps up any fluids that leak out. You’re quivering, your clit extra sensitive and swollen after your orgasm, and that’s when his wet tongue glides over it again, pushing the hood even further back. 

“W-wait! Oh God… oh fuck!”

Your body jerks, your legs turning into spaghetti as another orgasm hits you within minutes of the first. Choso’s grip on your body is firm, keeping you from crumbling. His lips and tongue are still working at your clit, moving at a faster pace now, making you shudder and moan. 

“Choso… I can’t stand it… feels too good… I can’t…. I can’t…”

His mouth is relentless, pushing you right back to the edge. You know you must be pulling his hair too hard, but you have to grip something or you’ll fall apart. Then, you feel his teeth lightly scrape over your sensitive, overstimulated bud, and you inhale sharply, nearly choking on the air as you cum for the third time. 

It feels like your body is dissolving as all strength leaves you. Choso catches you in his arms and eases you down to the carpeted floor, cradling you. 

“Are you alright, Mistress?” he asks, his lips glistening with your juices. 

You’re still twitching, clutching his arms as you ride out the aftershocks of the three most intense orgasms of your life. You can’t speak, so you just nod to answer him. 

He holds you until you’re able to stand up with his help, then he helps you clean up before tucking you into bed. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” he says, and you nod as he goes into the bathroom. You didn’t mention it, but when he was holding you on the floor, your upper half in his lap, you felt a rather impressive erection through his loose pants. You thought about doing something about it, but your mind was a little too hazy at that point. Oh well, you’re certain you’ll get plenty of chances to pleasure him as well. 

You never imagined being a doll before all this, and you’re still angry that things turned out this way, but at least you have Choso as your trainer. You don’t know how things will turn out, who will end up owning you, but at least for now, the situation isn’t too bad. So you fall asleep to the sound of the water running in the shower, knowing Choso will be sleeping beside you again tonight.

Tag List:

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[bunny584]

JUJUTSU KAISEN’S ANATOMY

Part II of this cute lil ask right here

A/N: Shit. You just graduated med school. And today…people expect you to…doctor? Mom come pick us up, we’re SCARED (real thought on my first day of residency).

S/N: Meet your first year surgical residency class. Undifferentiated little stem cells. The bottom of the surgical food chain. First shift last 36 hours and you work every second night until you drop. 

All you know is that you like to cut. Where/what/how that cutting comes will be decided later. Everyone has an idea of their subspecialty but…shit happens, preferences change and sometimes the spleen just bleeds for no fucking reason at 4 am when you’ve gotten 30 minutes of sleep in the last 3 days and you have to—what? Sorry. Forgive me. 

Let’s get into it.

For the love of God, interns — pick up your pagers. 

SURGICAL INTERNS ON CALL

Dr. Yuji Itadori 

Specialty Interest: ORTHOPEDIC SURGERY 

Don’t tell Dr. Sukuna about this but who here is shocked. This sack of muscles THROWS SUVS AT HIS MORTAL ENEMIES ON A RANDOM TUESDAY NIGHT??? Please???? He also does shit like watch Wormo-Man parts I-V and this is peak orthopod behavior. Yuji definitely has contests with his patients on rounds who can crush the cranberry juice or protein shakes the fastest. Spoiler, he always lets the patient win.

Everyone thinks he’s just joking around but it’s his way of getting post op patients to get their nutrition in. He’s a very thoughtful doctor, even though people assume he’s no thoughts just vibes between his eyes. 

Dr. Megumi Fushiguro

Specialty Interest: HAND SURGERY (can be achieved via Ortho or plastics)

Hand surgeons are a different BREED. Do me a favor and google “hand anatomy.” Not only will you find like 400 bones, there are 7,000 tiny tendons, lumbricals, digital arteries, veins and nerves all packed into the little mitts we take for granted. And to add insult to injury — all of the muscles and tendons are in latin. Like whoever decided that please take your seat on this one way train to hell :)

Nevertheless, Dr. Geto spotted Dr. Fushiguro on day ONE of intern year. How meticulous and neat he is. How intelligent he is in the O.R. As an intern, Megumi broke the record for the fastest carpal tunnel release for residents (4 minutes, 35 seconds — not faster than mine though, 3 mins, 52 seconds over here big dawg). Suguru is Megumi’s mentor within the first week. Two peas in one moody brunette, pod. 

Dr. Nobara Kugisaki

Specialty Interest: TRAUMA SURGERY 

Nobara is 100% resistant to the Satoru Gojo, MD charm. Unlike the rest of the residents, she isn’t squeezing into Dr. Gojo’s trauma ORs just to graze his gloved hand with theirs. Or make eyes over the surgical masks. No, Nobara did her first cricothyrotomy and became HOOKED. The day she had to climb on the gurney to tie off a patient’s external jugulars because after coding and ROSC (return of spontaneous circulation) they were SPURTING out of the large pipes in their neck — she was sold. Trauma surgery through and through.

Real story btw. It was insane. Whirlwind of a day from the trauma bay to the OR to the ice cream we all scarfed down after because we won that day. And you don’t win every day. So the days you get to tell the Angel of Death to fuck off, you savor them. 

Dr. Maki Zenin 

Specialty Interest: VASCULAR SURGERY 

Little known fact about vascular surgeons is that they are gangster as fuck. Hear me out. They like the blood PAPER thin, right? Small, rusty pipes need to get fluid through, so thin the fluid out as much as possible. Meaning patients are on aspirin, lovenox, heparin, and every other anticoagulant known to man.

Everyone else with a working amygdala is scared to DEATH of these patients bleeding because you look at them sideways and suddenly hemorrhage everywhere. Not vascular surgeons and not Maki Zenin. “Aorta ruptured..? No prob, just sew it up with a couple stitches. What—like it’s hard?” - Every Vascular Surgeon ever. Maki just gives unhinged-unbothered-let-them-bleed energy to me. Plus vascular surgeons do all of the amputations. Maki is doing that with her cursed tools and scrubbing in with hand sanitizer only. Period.

Dr. Yuta Okkotsu

Specialty Interest: TRANSPLANT SURGERY 

The OG lover boy is NO different in this AU. He is sentimental. He cries with patients. Dr. Nanami met him during the first month of his residency and immediately took him under his wing. Yuta is always the last to leave the anatomy lab, making sure to stitch the donors completely closed — even though no one will see. When asked why he spends hours post call doing it, he says: “Because they deserve respect until the very end.” Nanami And Yuta are a perfect match. After Yuta’s first liver transplant, Nanami takes him to the same hill he lays on by the airport. They both say goodbye to the donor together. 

Dr. Toge Inumaki

Specialty Interest: ….he switched to PSYCHIATRY, still tight with the surgical interns though.

Hello, please this is also obvious. Inumaki is the only one in the group who can listen intently for hours without interruptions lmao. He saw that aggressive surgery shit and said absolutely not I’ll take my talents ELSEWHERE 😂

And you know, funnily enough, a good majority of surgeons ALSO were torn between picking surg vs psychiatry. My mentor told me that its because its as invasive, just without the scalpel. The rest of us meatheads just like the scalpel a little too much to put it down. 

Panda:

Specialty Interest: N/A

He is the hospital emotional support animal. 

E/N: Alright interns. Do your best not to kill anyone. And if your chief resident (me) is sleeping, don’t page me. And if you do page me the patient better be knocking on heaven’s gates. And if they are knocking on heaven’s gates, they better not have crossed into the bright light before I get there. 

Real E/N: Kidding. I am so full of shit lol. I am the senior that brings my juniors cafecitos and treats and takes their pager to let them get some well deserved rest. 

Don’t be late to your OR cases, Shoo!

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

MOST WANTED II (Gangster!Sukuna x Self-Insert!Reader 18+ One Shot) [COMMISSION FILL]

READ PART I WITH MAFIA BOSS!TOJI HERE!

*********

“You’re mine tonight. And if you value your job and your life, you’d better do everything I say.”

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Self-Insert!Reader

Synopsis: After your failed mission with Toji that ended in humiliation—and unwanted hot dreams—, you beg her boss to put you on the next one to bag Sukuna Ryomen, a famous criminal boss and gangster who is wanted for many murders and trafficking jewels. After you’re refused, you go undercover as an escort at a masquerade party to get Sukuna alone and take him in…whether dead or alive. Agreeing to go back with him to his hotel after drinks, flirting and a game of pool, you attempt to complete the mission, but not before Sukuna uncovers your secret and punishes you for lying to him. He’ll show you that nobody fucks with him. And that maybe you’re not as strong or tough as you think you are. Maybe, just maybe…you enjoy being a gangster’s plaything.

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINORS GTFO); Self-Insert!Reader; Reader is Black, Fem & Plus-Sized; Flirting; Sexual Tension; Eye-Fucking; Escort!Reader; Agent!Reader; Action/Fighting; Noncon/R*pe; Dubcon; Handcuffs; Knife Play; Dirty Talk; Mask Kink; Daddy Kink; Degradation; Oral (Giving & Receiving); Facefucking; Choking; Slutification; Objectication; Mean Dom!Sukuna + sub!Reader; Doggystyle; Condescending Sweet Talk; Reader Cums 2x; Facial/Cum on Tits; No Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer’s Note: Got another one for y’all & for my fave @curiouscutie143!! We plan on expanding my “Most Wanted” world, probably even to other characters in the future! I had so much fun writing this AND it’s my first ever Sukuna fic! I hope y’all enjoy reading about that mean ol’ nasty man lol. Kisses! 💋-Jazz

*********

You stand in your bathroom mirror, staring at the woman staring back at you who looks like she could use a drink, a good orgasm, and some sleep.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask the woman. She moves her mouth with yours as you speak in the empty bathroom with its tiled walls and hardwood floor. A folder holding your next target sits next to you, a label reading “CLASSIFIED” stamped across the front.

The sound of Friday night in the city—cars honking, someone blasting music from the apartment across from yours—fills the space of your studio apartment. Usually, you would use tonight to order a pizza, watch a movie, or go to the bar across the street to pick up a guy for the night. But tonight, you stand in the mirror in your night slip, hair and makeup already on, getting ready for a party. Not just any party. A masquerade ball. One that is crawling with all kinds of elite figures, celebrities, politicians, business owners…and gangsters.

One of which you have your eye on. You grab the file sitting next to your sink that is littered in traces of makeup, your curling iron sitting unplugged right next to it. You open it with trembling fingers, making it hard to turn the pages. Your anxiety is already taking over. “Stop it,” you mutter to yourself as you finally making it to your target’s photo. You snagged his file a week ago in n secrecy. You had flirted mad hard with one of the file clerks—geeky, unattractive, and painfully awkward—and gave him a hard-on in order to sneak by and get into the file room. It is imperative that your agency have such a room to keep track of your old and new targets.

Ryomen Sukuna is one of the new ones and at the top of your boss’ list in terms of most wanted people. Big in the crime world and well-known for being a “professional killer”, Sukuna is feared in his area of business….which is anything that has to do with crime. Most of his business is underground and unknown to the public, but your agency has been keeping tabs on him for months now ever since other high-demand crime bosses and crooked officials in the city started coming up dead.

According to your team’s findings, Sukuna’s operation stretches across Japan and overseas in New York and London. His men, who are just as devious and dangerous as him, usually do all of his dirty work, including smuggling items and taking out those who threaten Sukuna’s businesses.

But Sukuna isn’t afraid of getting his hands dirty either.

He delves into the areas of illegal drug-smuggling, gun trafficking, imported, exotic seafood, and, mostly recently, jewel smuggling. It seems that Sukuna is a man of history. When a recent thousand-year-old diamond went missing a month ago from a history museum in Tokyo, your boss already had a feeling that Sukuna was behind it. But when a crime boss known for his jewel smuggling wound up dead just a week ago, he knew that Sukuna was most definitely the culprit. The man is like a piranha in the crime world, taking out every other being he deems as weak or a threat to his survival.

But you knew you could get him, especially when you found out that he would be in your city for a masquerade ball to celebrate the presentation of a new line of art worth millions. You knew he was planning something. Possibly even a massacre of potential buyers.

”Let me get him,” you begged your boss. You stood in his office a week ago once the news of Sukuna broke, your hands on your boss’ desk. “I can do this, sir, I promise. I can take care of this for you with my kind of skill.”

Your boss sat behind his desk, looking haggard and exhausted from running such a lucrative company. “V, I already have two agents working on this case.”

“Who?” You asked, but it must’ve came out harsher than you intended because your boss looked at you in alarm. “I won’t disclose that information only because I don’t want you to have any negative feelings towards them as your partners.” You didn’t know what to say. All you could do was stare down at your hands that laid flat on the wooden surface of the desk. “Boss, I can do it,” you said, your voice soft and shaky. You hated sounding so weak.

“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it, V,” he said, his voice gentle but affirmative like a father. “I’m only looking out for your safety and best interest.”

“My best interest,” you scoffed, unable to swallow back your pride or bitterness. “You and I both know that this is about what happened with Toji. You think I can’t handle this just like I couldn’t handle him.”

Your boss looks away from you, staring at his much-needed cup of coffee instead. You feel all of the air rush out of your lungs as he confirms it without confirming it.

It has been five months since your ordeal with Toji Fushigiro. You haven’t caught wind of him since he left you in that strip club, covered in his cum and completely humiliated. The walk of shame back to your apartment after receiving medical attention and a week of paid absence was even worse. You did nothing but stew in your apartment, filled with bitterness, humiliation, and revenge. You often had dreams of the crime boss, your plump body squeezed between his big arms and his muscular body on top of yours as he drove his cock into you. You would awaken in the night, sweating and your panties soaked in arousal from the flashes of that night.

Toji had ruined you, but he didn’t break you entirely. You knew that you could put the pieces back together and redeem yourself if you got on another mission, which is where Sukuna came in. If you could just convince your boss to put you on this case, you could show him, yourself, and everyone that you were stronger than the likes of Toji.

“Please, sir,” you begged. “What happened with Fushiguro will never happen again. I know what I’m doing. Have I ever failed you before?”

Your boss turned back to face you, his expression apologetic but firm. “V, it’s not that I don’t trust you,” he explains. “You’re the most overqualified agent and hit woman we have here…but what happened with Fushiguro was serious. Your health and safety was seriously threatened.” He pauses, biting his tongue. “What is it?” you pushed, your heart hammering in your chest.

He ran a hand through his graying hair, sighing to himself. “We also found out that Ryomen is a close contact to Fushiguro,” he added. “They had been in business with each other before and worked with the same clients.” He took a sip of his coffee as if to calm himself. “You’re too close to the case, V. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to stay out of this one and wait until we get another case to put you on.”

That was the end of it. There was no convincing him. You walked out of there with tears in your eyes and feeling exposed to the whole department as the hit woman who became a slut for a crime boss. When you got home that night, you downed a bottle of wine and told yourself that you wouldn’t let this happen. No more self-deprecating or feeling sorry for yourself. No more thinking of Toji, his dirty words, and his big, beautiful cock.

You wouldn’t allow this type of disrespect for ANYONE. So if you were going to redeem yourself, you would do it without your boss’ approval. This is for you now and you alone.

So here you are now, about to go against your boss’ wishes and the rules of your profession by inserting yourself in a case that has nothing to do with you. But you were prepared. You would find Sukuna, seduce him, and turn him into the authorities at means necessary…even if that means making him bleed.

You turn away from the mirror and look down at your vanity stool where your outfit for tonight’s event is laid out nicely for you—a strapless red dress with a slit in the thigh, a diamond set, and red bottom heels. Most importantly, a mask encrusted in diamonds sits waiting for you to put it on.

You pick up the mask and hold it in your hands, feeling the ridges of the diamonds against your fingertip. “Okay,” you say to yourself, feeling adrenaline fill your veins. “Let’s do this.”

**********

When you arrive at the ball, it is in full swing and brimming with luxury, excitement and the energy of the nightlife crowd.

The party is located downtown in a high-end, five star hotel ballroom. It is shockingly easy for you to get in, but then again, as a renowned hit woman, you know exactly how to blend in. All you had to do was slink by while the security guard posted in front of the hotel was busy with another masquerading couple.

As soon as you walk in, you are bombarded by the sound of a live band playing classical music and the aura of luxury. It is all around you—on the snack table where a crystal bowl of punch and champagne flutes sit; in the tasteful decorations of feathers, streamers, and entertainment blowing fire, making the crowd gasp; in the conversations and laughs of the guests decked out in their best designer and masks.

There are so many masks of all colors and kinds, making you blend in perfectly with the crowd. You keep your silver clutch close to your side, your little Glock hidden beneath your lipstick tube switchblade…and your lipstick. You can’t ever leave the house without your MAC.

You begin to look around the room, Sukuna’s face in your mind’s eye. You studied his appearance for days before coming here. Though you have no idea what he’ll be wearing tonight, you know that once you see him, you’ll know that it’s him.

“Drink, ma’am?” a voice suddenly asks. You jump slightly and turn around, finding a smiling waiter carrying a tray of champagne flutes. “Oh, yes,” you reply. “Thank you.” You give him a red-lipped smile and take one before he walks away to serve someone else. You might as well drink and try not to act so tense. Any kind of slip and your act will be exposed. You already know Sukuna’s men are slinking around here too.

You decide to walk over to one of the snack tables where a couple stands with their own snack tables, both matching in their rich, violet clothes. You give them a nod as you take a plate, lower your glass on the table, and randomly gather some cheese cubes onto your plate.

Beside you, the male in his gold mask and long, wavy hair, leans in towards his partner. “He’s in here somewhere,” he murmurs. “Keep your eyes peeled.” Immediately, you know exactly who he is. A C.O.D.E. agent. You sneakily eye him and his partner who glares at him behind her leopard-printed mask that somehow meshes with her violet gown. “And keep your mouth shut,” she hisses. “This place is crawlin’ with his men.”

You plop some veggies onto your plate and dribble on some ranch dressing, still listening. “Sorry,” the male mutters. “It’s my first mission, okay? I only got transferred to Japan just a month ago!”

The woman rolls her eyes and drops his arm from hers. “Stay here,” she sighs before she struts off in her heels. Her partner watches her go and you can feel his irritation radiating off of her. “Bitch,” he mutters before he presses down onto his left ear, obviously calling someone. Probably your boss to tell him that he hates his partner and wants to abort the mission. You nearly laugh and have to bite your lip to keep from giggling.

These are the agents your boss sent out tonight to get Sukuna? Them?! This guy was just transferred a month ago from wherever-the-fuck and he’s already messing up! Even on your first mission, you knew to always keep your guard up and act the part, wherever, however.

The male walks away to a nearby table, talking as he does to your boss or someone else at headquarters. You scoff to yourself, actually offended. How could your boss send someone like this ameture on a mission? But you’d show him. You nibble on a broccoli stalk and some cheese as you begin to scan the room, nodding at anyone who passes. Your eyes pass the stage to the far left where the exit into the hotel lobby is.

There, you see him. He is chatting with two men in suits and their own masks, a glass of champagne in his big hand. Each thick finger is inked and adorned in silver rings that wink at you under the bright lights. He is big and tall—about 6’6 at least. His big frame fills out his black suit and tie outfit which is rather plain for such a gaudy party.

But the blackness of his suit makes the pink of his hair, fluffy-looking yet spiked, and his red mask pop. At first glance, his mask reminds you almost of the Devil. It’s a fitting look for him, you suppose. He isn’t flashy, but he still looks rich. Like he has no problem making such a statement with his outfit and red-bottom shoes.

But you doubt that anyone would have anything to say to Sukuna Ryomen about anything he wears.

He tugs on his right ear where several small hoops, including a cartilage piercing, hang. From where you stand, you can see that his neck is roped in tattoos as well. He says something to the men and gives them a smirk before turning and walking through the exit.

You wait until the men depart and drain your champagne before tossing your snacks away. The hunt is on now. Keeping an eye on your fellow agents, you strut across the room to the exit, paying no attention to the gents who have their eyes on your bouncing chest, thighs, and ass. You finally make it to the hotel lobby and quickly scan the area, looking for Sukuna’s broad shoulders and long legs. You immediately find him at the entrance of a bar on the right hand side chatting with a doe-eyed waitress who immediately giggles and guides him into the bar.

You follow, the click of your heels against the marbled floor egging you on. The swanky, dimly-lit bar is damn near packed when you walk in. Most of its patrons are from the ball with the exception of businessmen at happy hour and women in their finest looking to score a rich man for the night. You spot Sukuna sitting at the end of the bar and passing the bartender a twenty-dollar bill for his shot (and bottle) of whiskey. About three stools down is a plump, balding man in a wolf mask and an Armani suit, his face flushed from too much to drink.

Immediately, you get an idea. Smirking to yourself, you strut over to the bar, brazenly staring at both the wolf and Sukuna who both have their eyes on you. You sit down beside the balding wolf, giving him a small smile in greeting. You place your clutch on the bar where you wave your manicured nails at the bartender. “One martini with five olives, please,” you order. The bartender nods and begins to ready your drink.

The wolf, on his fourth or fifth Bourbon, sloppily smirks beside you. Perhaps he thinks it makes him look sexy. “Five olives?” He chuckles. “You storin’ for the winter, Ms. Red?” His eyes graze down your body from behind the eye holes in his mask.

“Just for this party,” you joke. “Why? Do you suggest somethin’ more delicious than olives, Mr. Wolf?” You put a sultry, seductive lilt into your voice, leaning your chin into your hand. You hope Mr. Wolf catches on…which of course, he does.

“If you’re interested in what’s at the snake table, sure,” he replies, his voice low and teasing. He suddenly digs into his pocket, fishing out a twenty. “Here. A pretty thing like you shouldn’t buy her own drink.”

“I appreciate that,” you giggle, taking the money from him just as the bartender returns with your drink. “How can I repay you for such a kind act?” You lean forward and press your tits enticingly against the bar to which Mr. Wolf shamelessly stares at. You think you hear Sukuna scoff behind you, making your neck feel hot. But you don’t dare turn around. Not yet.

Mr. Wolf opens his mouth to say something either dumb or lecherous, but a slender blonde in a cat mask and a skin-tight dress struts up to him. “There you are!” she scoffs, rather loud. “I’ve been calling you nonstop! You dragged me to this damn party and then you just left me alone to come drink some more?”

She is so loud that it drowns out the jazz music playing overhead, catching the eye of the others in the bar. Mr. Wolf lowers his Bourbon, sighing to himself. “Karen, please don’t start,” he mutters, seething with rage. “You begged me to take you here.”

The woman—Karen—ignores him and turns to you. “And who is this?” She demands, scowling at Mr. Wolf. “Another one of your ‘business partners’?” The sound of shocked laughs and whispers drift in the tense, musky air. Mr. Wolf looks at you apologetically as he slides off of his stool, nearly falling. “Sorry,” he whispers. You give him a smile as he walks off with his nagging…girlfriend? Wife? Sugar baby? As if hearing your thoughts, Sukuna answers them for you. “I could’ve told ya he was married,” he chuckles. His laugh is smooth and rich yet deep and lethal, like a shot of whiskey.

You turn to him, raising a brow at him as you sip your martini. “How do you know?” you question. “He didn’t have a ring on his finger.”

Sukuna chortles again as if you’re some dumb little girl he needs to school. “Don’t have to. Rings can come off, ‘specially at events like these.” He takes a sip from his shot glass, eyeing you across the rim. “There’s plenty of pretty women like yourself swimmin’ around here for the pickin’.”

His gaze is hot like fire licking across your exposed skin. The air that Mr. Wolf and his wife left tense becomes even more so. But you straighten your neck and regard him with a smirk. “Like me?” you scoff. “I doubt he could’ve even been able to afford me.”

You take another sip of your martini, leaving a red stain on the rim, before fishing out the toothpick rowed with olives. You pluck one off with your teeth, knowing that Sukuna is watching. ‘Just keep up the act. Hook, line, and sinker.’

“Sooo you’re one of those city girls, huh?” You turn to him, silently asking him to elaborate. “The kind who chase the bag and never look back at the broken hearts they leave behind?” His smirk is playful. Almost sneaky.

“Close,” you reply. You place your toothpick back in the glass and lean in to give him a shot of your cleavage. “Merchandise,” you vaguely explain, accentuating each syllable with your plump, red lips.

Sukuna carefully watches as if attempting to pick your features apart behind your mask. He leans back on his stool, smirking. “So I was right: this is a ‘pay for the night’ situation. I had a hunch.”

“Oh, you did?” you scoff. “You a cop?” He nearly snorts into his glass. “Not even close, mama,” he chuckles. You cock your head to the side, acting curious. “Then what do you do? You already have my occupation, so what kinda work got you here?”

“I thought we were talkin’ ‘bout you,” he smoothly remarks, eyeing you down. “That’s some dress you got on.” You give him a look, standing your ground. Finally, he gives in defeatedly. I’m a…man of all types of businesses. I’m kind of an arts conasor, I guess you could say. I’m big in tradin’, auctions, collectin’…” Trafficking. Criminal activity. Killing. “Cool,” you reply, nodding. “Oh, I’m V, by the way. Yes, I’m fine, thank you.”

Sukuna chuckles, his crimson red alight with mischief. “Well, I know you’re fine,” he jokes. “Little spitfire, ain’t ya?” You can tell he likes your wittiness. Most men like him do. “Apologies, V. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He puts his big, ringed hand out for a shake. You take it, ignoring the zing of electricity that shoots up your arm as his fingers clasp yours. “Sukuna,” he says, his voice suddenly deeper than before. Quickly, you take your hand away and place it in your lap. If he notices, he doesn’t act like it, instead lighting himself a cigar. “Mind if I smoke?” he asks, regarding you with those blood-red eyes. You shake your head. “Not at all. So what brings you to this riveous party, Sukuna?”

Your target wraps his lip, pierced lips around the cigar, inhaling before exhaling the smoke. “Business. Money. Potential clients and partnerships. I ain’t much of a party person as I’m sure you can tell.” He gives you a smirk. “I’m guessin’ you’re here for business too?” You chuckle, liking his blunt humor. “I got a call from a regular client of mine to come here. He’s a big-time CEO—the owner of a chain of gas companies. He asked me to come here, but I haven’t seen him yet.”

You come up with the lie on the spot and make a show of looking around for your imaginary client. “Hope he’s not playin’ me out,” you huff. “He’s been generous before, but he’s also generous with other women much younger than me.”

“Well, I’d be glad to give ya some company,” Sukuna says. “Between you and me, that guy sounds like a dickhead for even invitin’ you here.” You tilt your head at him, curiously and flirtatiously. “Why is that?” you ask.

Sukuna takes another drag of his cigar, and as the smoke escapes his nostrils, he looks so much like the Devil appearing in a gray cloud to you. ‘Cause this place is crawlin’ with guys like me. And I always get what I want.” He gives you a white-toothed smile that sends shivers down your spine and suddenly, your facade slips a bit.

But not until you’re fortunately distracted. “Sukunaaaa!” someone suddenly shouts from the other side of the bar. He is in a fox mask and black suit with a red tie, standing among other powerful and rich-looking men. “Come! Play a game with us!” The other men agree, shouting him over.

You and Sukuna share a look, him looking like he wants to be anywhere but over there. “Come on,” you chuckle. “I don’t know how to play, but I’ll watch you. I can be your good luck charm.” You sip on your martini as you rise to your feet, waiting for him to follow. After some thought, Sukuna gets up, standing a whole head taller than you. “If ya say so, but be prepared for looks.”

Together, you walk side by side over to the pool table. Just as he said, you gain the curious eye of every man surrounding the pool table, cigars and drinks in hand. The entire area smells of cigar smoke and expensive cologne. Wealth. Sukuna introduces you to the men and you pretend to act flattered as the men kiss your hand and compliment you on your dress.

You stand among them and drink your martini, sizing up Sukuna and his gang. You don’t know if any of them are “his people”, but you stay on guard anyway, sipping as little alcohol as you can. You watch them play pool together, laughing when you’re supposed to and answering questions when asked but not giving too much about yourself away.

Sukuna is pretty quiet most of the time, primarily focused on the game. He is very meticulous; a strategist at pool. His long fingers twirl around his pool stick, his eyes sizing up each player and the eight balls that roll this way and that along the green table. He is good, you admit. He knows just where to shoot and how to do it, betting on each ball with the probability of an expert.

But Mr. Crane—a banker in a crane mask and dark blue suit—is on his ass having gotten close in points. He stands there laughing and joking about while Sukuna sizes him up. “Oooh, I think you’ve got some competition, Mr. Sukuna,” you whisper. “He’s winning.”

Your target grunts in disagreement. “Not for long,” he growls. “I don’t ever lose.” You hum to yourself, staring up at him through your lashes. “You sure about that?”

Now Sukuna turns to you fully and you realize just how tall he is. You have to stand back a bit to even look at him. “Do me a favor,” he purrs, his eyes hooded from the smoke. “Wager somethin’ with me.”

Your heart thunders in anticipation for his next words..but you don’t expect them even when they come out. “If I win this game, you ditch that client who stood ya up and spend the night with me.”

Sukuna’s tatted hand goes for his pocket, patting it. “And trust me, mama: I’ve got the money for it.” A shit-eating grin crosses his lips, showing you the two gold canines embedded in his lower row of teeth.

”And if you lose?” you ask, alarmed by how breathless you sound. Sukuna passively shrugs. “Then I’ll buy you a drink and slip ya the money anyway.” You take a moment to think on this. He could be lying. He could be testing you. But figuring you’ve got a weapon, you agree by clinking your glass with his. “Deal.”

Sukuna’s smile grows, almost looking joyous at your agreement. The game continues and you watch with bated breath as he and Mr. Crane go head to head. You sip your martini, not even noticing how less tense you seem from the alcohol or how bright the lights have become or how hot you seem or how Sukuna shoots the last two balls into a pocket because Mr. Crane missed. Oh, shit. You gape at the astonished player and then at Sukuna. He turns to you, prideful and giddy. “Oh, would you look at that,” he whispers. “I win.” You get a bad, bad feeling in your gut, but you ignore it. Big mistake on your part.

You swallow hard, fixing your mouth into a flirty smile. “So how would you like to spend the night with me, Mr. Sukuna?”you ask. The gangster shrugs, acting clueless. “I dunno…dancing, drinking, or your legs wrapped around my head. It’s your choice.” Suddenly, the obvious sexual tension that has been in the air erupts as soon as the vulgar words are out in the open. You feel your tongue become heavy and your nipples harden beneath your dress. You ignore it all. You can’t be hot over this criminal. Not again!

“You stayin’ here?” you ask though you already know the answer. He nods, his expression lustful. “Let’s get out of here then. I’d like to come back and get some cake from the party though.”

He nods again and lays a hand on your lower back, leading you out of the bar and into the lobby where you walk to the elevators. When you’re finally alone with him behind the elevator doors, you momentarily think about sliding your gun out of your clutch and shooting him, ending this now.

But when his hand slowly slides down your backside to grip your ass, you bite your lip and hold firm. ‘Not yet. In time.’ Finally, the elevators open up onto a hotel suite that looks more like a penthouse. There is a foyer in the middle of the room with glass tables, a private bathroom near the exiting door, plush furniture overlooking a flat-screen, and a small kitchenette with an attached island and mini-bar.

Your heels click as you walk into the suite, admiring the luxurious room. “Nice setup,” you comment. You twirl around to face Sukuna as the elevator doors shut. You’re glad you remembered to wear gloves. You don’t need to leave any fingerprints here. “It’s a little small for my tastes.” Sukuna strides toward you, reaching you in about three steps on his long legs. “But then again, I don’t use this room to sleep.”

Silently, he takes you by the hand and leads you into the large bedroom suite on the right hand side. The walls are painted an indigo blue, giving the room a calm sensation that the king-sized bed in the middle doesn’t. Two plush armchairs sit across from it near a balcony overlooking the city beyond, the moonlight shining onto the bed’s crossed ceiling and bedposts guarding each side of the headboard and the bottom of the bed.

You turn to Sukuna to say something, anything to take the edge off of you, but you’re silenced when he takes a seat at the end of the bed. He sits with his legs spread and his hands in his lap. Even from here, you can tell that he is hard—his dick print is pulsing beneath his slacks. “Take that off,” he demands. “Let me see you.”

Showtime. You lay your clutch down near your feet within arm’s reach before you reach back to slooooowly unzip your dress. The beautiful, red garment slips off of you, leaving you in your strapless corset, panties, and nylon stockings. All trimmed with lace. All sexy. You purposely chose this outfit because the corset lifts your breasts in a way that is enticing and your panties hug your ass, making it plumper and much fatter.

Sukuna gives a sharp intake of breath before he takes off his jacket and starts reaching for his tie. You chuckle though your blood runs hot. “Oh, startin’ already? I didn’t take you as the eager type.” The gangster smirks, yanking his tie off of his throat. “And I didn’t take you as a liar,” he replies.

You blink at him, startled by his words. “W-What?” you stammer. Sukuna continues to strip, unbuttoning each button on his top. “You agreed to let me do whatever I want if I win. I’m askin’ you to take off everything. Includin’ the mask.” He still gives you that humored smirk as his top comes off, revealing a tattooed chest and big, muscular arms to you roped in ink.

You can feel your anxiety peaking. Your stomach is roiling and you feel sick. “I’m not taking off the mask,” you firmly say. Now Sukuna’s smile fades. He looks confused as if he can’t figure you out. “You disobey me?” he asks.

You swallow, not liking how that sounds. “I’m just not comfortable with that. I don’t want you seeing me. It’s something I do with every client.” You keep up with your role, hoping that he’ll take that as an answer…but you’re wrong. He fixes you with a laser-hot look that you don’t like. “You sure?” he asks. “Or are you just tryna save yourself from your sinkin’ ship?”

“What are you talking about?” you snap, glaring at him. You stagger back as he suddenly gets up and walks over to the nightstand. As he does, you quickly unzip your gun and place it behind you in the waistband of your panties. Better to be ready than not at all.

Sukuna turns to you then, holding a glittering diamond wrapped in cloth in his palm. Your eyes widen at the sight of the stolen jewel from the museum. “This is what you want, right?” he asks. “This is what you’re lookin’ for?” His smirk grows into something menacing and almost mocking. “Or is it me you’re lookin’ for, V? It is V, right?”

‘Oh, my God. Not again.’

Sukuna knows he’s got you judging by the deer-in-headlights look you’re sporting on your face despite the mask. “Can I ask you what your plan was tonight?” he asks. Not waiting for an answer, he continues: “What, you thought you’d seduce me, get me up here, suck my dick a bit, and then slap some cuffs on me so you can save the day?”

He snorts at the mere thought of it, the diamond still in his palm. “Stupid girl. I know all about you. Toji and I are close in this business.” He begins to walk toward you, slowly and teasingly like a serial killer who takes joy in scaring his victims before the final kill. He told me aaall about how he used that pussy till it was sore and got away in the end.”

You grow hot at the vulgarity of his taunting words, even more so at the fact that your cover has been blown again. “So what now?” you ask, dropping the act entirely. “You gonna kill me?”

Sukuna places the diamond on a nearby dresser right where a few bottles of wine sit. “I should…but I won’t. After all, we’re up here now.” His eyes grow dark and lustful, frightening you. “So I’m gonna do just what I planned to do: I’m gonna fuck you like I paid for you.” And he definitely is a man who will act on what he says.

Quickly, you take the gun out of your panties and aim it at him. Sukuna stops moving, standing as still as a statue. “Stand back,” you growl. “You come any closer and I’ll put a bullet in you.” One finger sits on the trigger, ready to press down at any given moment.

Anyone else would cry, flinch, beg for their lives…but not Sukuna. He is as stone cold as the look in his eyes. He takes another step toward you, then another, until his chest is pressed against the barrel of your gun. “Do it,” he growls. “I fuckin’ dare you, bitch. Shoot me.”

And so you do. Despite your hammering heart and shaky hand, you pull the trigger….only to hear a click. You pull again, hearing a click. Nothing. “What?” you whisper to yourself, staring at your gun. It’s the perfect advantage for Sukuna to take, which he does by slapping you dead in your face.

With a shout, you fall to the ground, your gun clattering to the floor. You check your lip for blood, finding only smudged lipstick. This motherfucker ruined your makeup! “Slipped into your clutch while you were chattin’ with that wolffish slob,” he explains, grinning evilly at you. “You’d think a hitwoman would be a little more savvy.”

Now you’re angry. He’s insulting your intelligence. Embarrassing you. Humiliating you. “Oh, I am,” you snarl. “I was gonna go easy on you, but now…I’m just gonna make you bleed. Do not ever underestimate me, dickhead.”

You lunge at him and grab onto his belt, using all your might to yank him down onto the floor. As soon as he’s down, you place your arm over his stomach and leap onto him, straddling him. Ignoring his smile and handsome features, you raise a hand to punch him, but his hand shoots out to grab your neck.

You grunt, trying to break his hold which he uses as a distraction to pull you off of him. Back onto the floor you go with the gangster on top of you. He forces your wrists at the top of your head, his big hands gripping and pinning them down to the floor.

“Nice try,” he chuckles, his big body pressing into yours. “I’ve seen better though.”

You try to buck him off, but he wedges one knee between your plump, soft inner thighs, his belt buckle pressing into your pelvis bone. You gasp, feeling suffocated. “St-Stop!” you stammer. “Don’t—“ You’re rudely cut off as his knee glides against your crotch, giving you a spark of pleasure. A soft moan leaves your lips followed by a rush of hot embarrassment.

Sukuna notices, his crimson eyes glinting like a cat’s in the night. “Oh,” he coos. “Was that a moan, babygirl? You like this?” He rolls his hips down into yours, unfortunately causing that same spark of pleasure to explode in your core. He cackles, overjoyed by this. “Maybe this is what you came here for: to get fucked by a gangster. I’m better than Toji though. I promise you that.”

He sits fully on top of you, straddling your waist, and reaches for your clutch. “Let’s see what ya got in here, shall we?” He turns your clutch over, causing each content of it to fall out onto the floor. Your lipstick and switchblade. Your phone. Your powder compact. And a pair of silver handcuffs.

Sukuna’s brow raises in interest and he gives you a smile that makes you damn near sick. He snatches the cuffs before you can reach them and suddenly gets off of you. Before you can wonder what’s happening, he flips you over onto your stomach and begins yanking you across the floor by your ankles. An animalistic grunt leaves your lips as you try to grab onto something to slow your trip, but it’s to no avail.

So you begin trying to kick him, hitting his arm and his leg. You try to get his balls, but you end up getting his knee. “Oooh, bratty!” he cackles. “I’m gonna have some fun with you, whore. You’re dressed for the part already.”

He is rough with you now, taking great pleasure in your shouts of pain and desperation. Finally, he forces you over to the nearest bedpost and yanks on your wrists. You wriggle and squirm, trying to escape him, but you can’t do much when the cuffs are clicking around your wrists.

Clank, clank.

You panic, trying to shake your wrists out, but the chain linking the cuffs together are looped around the bedpost. You are trapped. Sukuna stands back with his hands up his hips, admiring his handiwork. “There we go,” he chuckles. “Nice and tight. You look so good for me right now.”

You turn to stare at him, on your knees and cuffed to the post. “Fuck you,” you growl. His smirk grows along with his cock in his pants. “Oh, not yet, mama, but I’m glad you’re so eager.”

You begin to scream and clatter the cuffs around, making as much noise as you can to alert someone. Anyone. But when the familiar barrel of a gun presses into your backside, you pipe down. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls. “You’re mine tonight. And if you value your job and your life, you’d better do everything I say.”

He uses the gun to press it underneath your chin and turn you to face him. “Understand?” he growls, his red eyes glaring. You know better than to argue or scream or curse. So you swallow your pride and everything you learned from C.O.D.E. training. “Y-Yes,” you whimper.

Sukuna’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree at your obedience. “‘Yes, sir’ is the correct response, but I’ll let you off this one time.” He keeps his gun in his hand, but doesn’t aim it at you anymore. “Now if you wanna do somethin’ else with that mouth besides complain and talk shit, I’ve got an idea.”

His smile fades as he watches you watch him, his gaze molten hot and lustful. You have no choice but to watch him unbuckle his pants with one hand and pull his cock out. Your eyes widen at inch at his long, thick, pulsing shaft protruding from a nest of pink curls.

“Suck my cock,” he demands, his tone firm and serious. “Apologize to me for all of the lies and deceit. Oh, and look up here while you do it.”

You feel your eyes watering and your lips quivering. Everything in you is screaming at you not to comply…but there is one part nesting in the deepest, darkest depths of your being that is interested and curious. The same part of you that emerged in that VIP room with Toji five months ago.

Swallowing your pride, you start by kissing and licking along Sukuna’s shaft, introducing yourself to his cock. He softly groans and hums in enjoyment at your ministrations, pushing his hips forward.

He does so in a way that makes his cock slip between your lips and in your mouth without your permission. You gasp as his thick cock passes the threshold of your mouth, the taste of him all over your tongue. “That’s a good girl,” he moans, using one hand to grab the back of your head.

He pushes you forward onto his dick, taking him deeper into your mouth. You force yourself to open your throat and to breathe through your nostrils in an effort not to choke. He’s about as big as Toji with a thick, bulbous head, heavy balls, and—

Click.

Your eyes tick up to see Sukuna with your phone in his face, the gun now in his pocket. How did he break your code? Did he use Face ID? His cock slips out of your mouth and you take a moment to gasp in some air. “What are you—?”

“Just givin’ you some encouragement and persuasion,” he cuts in, smirking. “After all, you need to do a good job, don’t you? And I would just hate for your boss to somehow see this if you—“

“Don’t!” you cry, tears springing into our eyes. “Fine, I’ll do it! Just don’t send anything!” You want to shield yourself from the camera eye of your phone, but you can’t. You can’t do anything.

Sukuna keeps the camera on you, the threat of pictures or videos looming over you. “Open up then,” he growls. “And don’t even think about usin’ teeth…but you’re a good, smart girl, so I doubt you’ll try it with me.”

His cock pulses in front of you and you shiver. You don’t know if it’s out of repulsion or excitement. Either way, you suck on his cock like you mean it, hollowing your cheeks to take him easier. Sukuna lets out a loud, throaty groan, one hand tangled in your hair.

“That’s it, mama,” he groans. “Take that fuckin’ cock. Y’know, you’re better at this than ya are fightin’.” He pushes in deeper, making you gag and nearly triggering that button in the back of your throat to vomit. “You should think about changin’ occupations…bein’ a little cocksucker is way more fittin’ for ya.”

He begins to fuck your face now, slowly at first, but he is still brutal and rough. You have to force yourself to keep breathing to avoid throwing up all over his dick. “You could be my little cocksucker,” he growls. “My cock slut. My whore. You’d like that, wouldn’t ya?”

You gurgle and gag in response, your throat forced to flex around his cock interrupting its natural state. You feel as if your throat and mouth are being molded into his personal fleshlight with the way he fucks your face, grunting and groaning like a desperate man. His balls slap against your chin, filling your nose with the scent of his cologne and his cock.

You’ve never been used in such a way. You are being resorted to nothing but a toy. A hole for his own use. Saliva drips from your chin and down onto your tits, making you slick and messy…just like another part of you between your thighs. The more he fucks, the more your cunt throbs and pulses in anticipation for it to be fucked the same way.

What is wrong with you?

You can only ask yourself this question more as Sukuna’s thrusts grow rougher and stronger, his fingers digging into your scalp. “Fuck, baby,” he grunts. “You’re about to make me cum. You’d better fuckin’ take it…take it, bitch!”

Finally, with a few more brutal thrusts that steal your air away, Sukuna lets out a loud moan and cums deep down your throat. Your moans of protest and shock are muffled as his cock pushes deep, ropes of warm cum shooting down your throat.

“Take it,” he pants. “Take my fuckin’ cum. I know you want all of it.” He begins to rock his hips slowly, riding out his orgasm as he gives you more and more of his spunk. You take all of it because what other choice do you have?

When he finally pulls away, a string of cum-mixed saliva attaches itself to your bottom lip. He grips your chin, forcing you at look at him. “Show me your mouth,” he demands. “I wanna see it. Stick out your tongue and don’t let a single ounce drop.”

You do as he says, carefully sticking out your tongue so he can see the pool of cum on it. He smiles, patting your cheek. “That’s a good girl. Now swallow.” And like an obedient puppet, you close your mouth and swallow his cum before he gives you a long, wet, open-mouthed kiss that steals your breath away.

When he pulls away, he honestly looks…softer. Like he’s in love with what he sees. “Now,” he coos, wiping a drop of spit off of your lips with his thumb, “let me give you a reward for such a job well done.”

You let him grab your arm and force you onto your feet. Your body feels unbalanced and your legs are wobbly. To some degree, you’re thankful for the support of the post to hold you up as Sukuna’s big hands glide down your ass and thighs. Then, suddenly, you feel his breath caressing your asscheeks and something cool on your skin.

You realize what it is when you feel your panties slice off of your body. A knife. “Please,” you whimper. Sukuna chuckles, humored by your humiliation and fear. “Don’t fret, mama. This is just to get these panties off…if you’re good, that is.” He presses the cool metal of the knife into your thigh, making you feel the jagged edges.

“You can be a good girl for me, can’t you?” he whispers, a wicked smile in his voice. He doesn’t give you the chance to answer before lightly licking you against your slit. You gasp, your wrists straining against the cuffs. His big hands glide up to force your hips back, causing your ass to jut into his face.

Sukuna hums in enjoyment, licking and sucking away at your pussy that seems to grow wetter with every ministration of his tongue. How is he so good at this? You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Plus, the knife against your thigh doesn’t allow you. One wrong move or something that he doesn’t like and that knife could be cutting your skin.

So let him do as he pleases. But you don’t really have a choice either. All you can do is grip the pole you’re shackled to as Sukuna sucks on your pussy lips and swirls his tongue around your clit before he dips the muscle inside of you. Your mouth falls open on a loud moan, his soft lips cushioning your clit. Your thighs begin to quiver and you feel your body shake in pleasure.

You hate how good this feels. And you especially hate that the man you hate is making you feel this good.

Sukuna lightly pulls on your pussy lips, earning a whimper from you. “Isn’t this so much better than fightin’ me, baby?” he asks before French kissing your cunt once again. He kisses you sloppily and messily, his tongue licking and sliding this way and that. “Fuckin’ slut,” he growls, gripping your asscheek and giving it a smack. “You’re so desperate for me. It’s what you should be.”

He moves the knife to your lower stomach, pressing the tip into your lace bra. Your pulse jumps as you feel it puncture a hole in it, ruining the bra and grazing against one of your breasts. “Please,” you whine. “Please!”

Sukuna smiles, still licking and sucking your pussy with all of the vigor of a hungered man. “I like you beggin’,” he replies. “Do it again for me. Beg real pretty for me, slut.” You have no choice when he continues on slurping on your cunt and fucking your hole, his nose swiping against your clit.

“Please, please, please!” you sob. “Please let me cum!” Your begging must satisfy Sukuna because his tongue moves a little faster, his pace causing your body to quake against the restrictions of the cuffs. His hot, wet mouth causes your orgasm to wash over you quickly yet powerfully, controlling every part of your body. You let out a whine of pleasure as your cum explodes in Sukuna’s mouth, drenching his lips and chin in your juices.

The aftershocks come and your body starts writhing, causing you to grip the pole for dear life. Sukuna hums in satisfaction, cleaning you up as you writhe for him. Finally, when the aftershocks subside, you slump against the pole, your knees nearly giving out. Sukuna pulls away from you finally and lovingly strokes your ass. “Good little slut,” he coos in his deep voice. “But we ain’t done yet so you’d better get it together.”

Instantly, your stomach grows fluttery with butterflies and your core grows warm. You know exactly what is coming next. You can’t stop. You can’t avoid it. And more frighteningly, you’re not even sure if you don’t want it.

Sukuna stands behind you and places one foot between yours to widen your legs out. His knife glides up your side to your neck to come across your throat. You freeze as soon as you feel the cold metal touch your tender, warm skin. Sukuna chuckles into your ear as his other hand plays with your wet pussy. “What a thrill, huh?” he hisses. “You ain’t been thrilled yet till you’ve gotten me.”

You concur. You can’t help but to do so when he finally slides that big, thick, long cock inside of you. Slick and open from your orgasm, he slides right in and makes his home between your velvety walls. He groans into your ear while your mouth falls agape on a silent moan.

You feel stretched. You feel full. You feel used. And you feel absolutely, positively amazing. Sukuna digs his nails into the fleshy part where your ass meets your hip, his fingers fondling your tummy. “Fuck!” he grunts into your ear, panting hotly. Even he can’t get a grip on himself. Your pussy feels too good wrapped around him, stroking him of all he’s worth.

He drops the knife, no longer needing it, and your body relaxes…until the blade is replaced with his hand. “Take it,” he demands. “Take that fuckin’ cock. You know you need it.” His other hand grips your stomach, kneading the plushy, soft flesh as he fucks into your wet heat. “So let me give it to you,” he huffs. “Lemme give you everything that slutty pussy needs.”

His hips hammer harder and faster into your ass, making it quiver and recoil. Your moans are loud and high-pitched, unable to be silenced due to Sukuna’s pistoning thrusts. He fucks you like a machine, pumping in and out, out and in, his cock pulsing inside of you. “F-Fuck!” you stammer. “Wait, Sukuna! You’re going t-too fast!”

Your pussy feels like it’s going into overload, being stuffed too much and too quickly. Tears spring into your eyes as Sukuna grips your throat tighter, cutting off your air for just a moment. “Quiet!” he snaps. “Sluts don’t talk. They only take dick. They take all that’s given to them and they’re thankful for it.”

Short moans and gasps leave your lips as he continues to squeeze, still fucking you dumb. Your knees buckle and your head feels fuzzy from the overstimulation and his hand gripping your throat. The pleasure somehow mounts to astronomical heights because of this, leaving you a dumb, mindless mess.

Sukuna presses his lips to your ear, his lip ring cool against the shell of your ear. “So tell me thank you. Say “thank you, Daddy, for givin’ me that dick. Thank you for fuckin’ me so good. Thank you for makin’ me your little cock whore”.” He loosens his hold on your neck, allowing you time to breathe. But you can’t breathe. You can’t even speak. Your mind is full of cock, unable to focus on anything but Sukuna’s big thighs against yours and his dick pummeling into you.

His hand grips your neck again, tighter this time, and you gag. “Say it!” he demands, roaring into your ear. “Say the fuckin’ words!” This time, he doesn’t release your neck, so you’re forced to get the words out with his fingers pressing into your throat. Fat, wet tears drip from your lashes, wetting your cheeks behind your mask.

“Thank you!” you sob out, finally broken. “Thank you, Daddy! Thank you for giving me your dick! T-Thank you for…for…!” You trail off, your words turning into a desperate moan as you feel the knot in your core tighten.

You’re about to cum. Your target, this gangster, a lowdown, dirty criminal, is going to make you burst all over his big, fat cock as if you’re his lover and he’s deserving of all of it. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you warn. “Please, please let me cum, Daddy! I can’t take it!”

You grip the cuffs for dear life as he fucks and fucks and fucks you. Your knuckles turn white, an indication of the pleasure you’re experiencing. Sukuna chuckles, enjoying your torture. “Aww, but the fun just started, baby,” he condescendingly coos. “You gonna cum already? Is this gangster cock just too good?” You whimper in response, your eyes fluttering closed.

Smack!

Sukuna slaps your ass hard, making it sting. “I don’t hear an answer,” he growls. His thrusts grow quick and brutal, turning your pussy into mush and making your clit sing. “Yes! Yes, it feels so fucking good!” you babble.

“Cum on it then,” he orders. “Give Daddy what he wants. Fucking cum for me now, V.” He continues this brutal, controlling pace with one hand gripping your throat and the other on your ass, drilling into your pussy and against your G-spot with all of the mercy of a sinner.

It doesn’t take long for that knot in your core to snap. “Oh, fuck!” you whine, damn near screaming for all to hear as you cum hard around Sukuna’s cock. Your orgasm hits you hard and intensely, sending you on a trip as you thrash in Sukuna’s hands and against the post.

Your pussy grips him tighter than a vice as you cream him, coating him from his cockhead to his balls in your juices. He grunts in pleasure by how tight you’ve grown, gripping and stroking him until he has no choice but to cum. Before he can, he pulls out of you and forces you down onto your knees. You’re so weak that you go tumbling down like a baby deer still weak on its hind legs.

“Look at me.” You stare up into Sukuna’s eyes, now facing the man behind the red mask. He has taken it off, revealing his handsome face and strange, tatted stripes on his cheeks. He furiously pumps his slick cock with one hand while he uses the other to rip off your mask. You’re too weak and spent to protest or fight him off.

His face grows red and glistens in sweat from the fury of his pumping, his arm tense as he jerks himself off in front of you. “Take me,” he demands. “Take my cum, my good little whore.” With a few more pumps, he finally bursts with a roar of pleasure, his head flying back as he shoots his spunk all over your face and tits.

You gasp as the warm liquid hits your face, dripping down your cheeks, lips, neck, and juicy tits, making your skin sobbing wet and sticky with him. Your breath comes out in short puffs of air as you recover from the vigorous fucking, completely spent. And ruined.

Sukuna deeply exhales, relaxed and satisfied. “Not bad, little girl,” he chuckles. “I haven’t cum that hard in a minute.” You watch as he picks up his knife and begins to redress himself like nothing happened, fastening his buttons and his belt. Like this was just a quickie and nothing more.

When he finishes, he smirks down at you as he fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket. “Look at you, all messy,” he tuts. “Didn’t your boss teach ya to clean up after yourself?”

He kneels down and begins dabbing his cum off of your face, but not your tits. You already know you look crazy—mascara dripping, lipstick smudged, foundation fucked up. You eyeball Sukuna as he finishes cleaning you up. Even when he takes the key to the cuffs out of your clutch and releases you, you still glare at him like you’re trying to kill him with your eyes.

He tuts, cocking his head to the side. “Oh, now don’t look so glum. Here, I’ve got a present for you for your hard work.” He gives you a wink before walking over to the nightstand, leaving you to recover on the floor.

Slowly, you put your dress back on, hissing at the burn of your hands and wrists from the cuffs. You do your best to keep the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks at bay. You’re almost dressed when Sukuna comes back to you and presents you with the diamond, covering it with the cloth.

You’re stunned into silence for a while, even as he places the rock in front of you and then backs away. He watches you as you watch the diamond, half expecting it to blow up or something…but it doesn’t. Immediately, you feel enraged. “So you’re gonna give me that and what? Let me go?” You laugh, dry and loud. “Was the pussy that good that now you feel bad?”

Immediately, Sukuna’s hand is wrapped tight in your hair. He grips it and yanks you up, making you shout in pain. He brings you up an inch away from his irritated, crimson eyes. “Don’t get too cocky, bitch,” he hisses. “This ain’t about how hard you made me bust or how good you looked takin’ my cock. This is about teachin’ you a lesson.”

Your body tenses and grows cold. As if sensing this, Sukuna soothes your fears. “I’m not gonna kill you,” he explains. “Instead, I’m gonna give you that stupid rock you wanted and you can explain all to your boss about how you saved the day to get it…but only you’ll know what it took. Only you’ll know how you failed again.”

He leans in, smirking. “And that cuts deeper than any knife.” And it does. Already, you feel gutted than Toji made you feel. You’re bleeding out all over the floor, humiliated. Broken. Destroyed. You have failed again.

Sukuna’s smirk grows wider and he loosens his grip on your hair. “But I like you,” he chuckles. “And I don’t like a lot of people, so I’ll throw ya a sweetener: if we ever cross paths again and you get tired of bein’ a hero, you can come kick it with me. Be my little slut and my partner.”

He leans in, giving your neck a long lick, making you whine. “How’s that sound, doll?” he whispers, stroking your cheek. You don’t answer. If anything, you feel like spitting in his face. “I’ll let you sit on it, but my offer stands. Till we meet again, V.”

He gives you a wink and releases you before fastening his mask onto his face. You watch as he turns to leave, unable to take him from behind. You’re too weak and too defeated to do so. “Feel free to use the shower!” he calls, and then you hear the elevator ding.

So you do. Once he is gone and the hotel suite is now yours, you drag yourself to the luxurious bathroom, undress, and take a scalding shower to wash Sukuna’s cum, your ruined makeup, and tonight’s mistakes off of you. You use as much of the floral-scented body wash as you can, washing, scrubbing, and rinsing until your fingers and toes are pruned.

But even that isn’t enough. When you end your long, hot shower, you feel just as dirty as when you walked into it. You then steal one of the plush hotel robes left by the shower and drag yourself back into the hotel room, leaving the floor a mess with your discarded items. The only thing you pick up is your phone.

There, several calls from your boss wait for you. “Shit,” you mutter to yourself. Is it possible Sukuna sent him something anyway? Only one way to find out.

With your mind made up and your heart pounding, you press on your boss’ contact and wait for him to answer, each dial tone making your anxiety peak. Finally, he answers. “V, Thank God!” he exclaims. “I’ve been calling you for hours! Where the hell have you been?! The agents that I put on the Sukuna case told me you’re at the party and Sukuna’s file is gone. V, are you there right now?”

You don't answer for a moment, too busy staring at the diamond sitting next to your discarded mask. Both signs of your failure. Tears begin to rise to the surface again, but this time, only one falls. You can’t fool yourself anymore.

“V!” your boss shouts. “V, answer me! Where are you right now?”

“I’m sorry, boss,” you choke out, wiping your cheek. “I’m going to have to resign.”

TO BE CONTINUED.

[jellicatty]

ᐟ 𝐉𝐔𝐉𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐔 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐍 ୭˚. ᵎᵎ

٠࣪୨ৎ┆ NANAMI KENTO

— nanami as a soon to be dad

— hot and bothered

An opportunity to unwind was something Nanami doesn't want to pass by without any surprises.

— perfect bridal look

Overcome with a sense of guilt for leaving you to plan your wedding alone, Nanami flies back home to you with a little surprise— only to be surprised himself.

— princess treatment with jjk men

— how nanami would court you

— just a stranger, making love

It felt wrong to accept someone else's lust other than your husband. Five years have passed, yet you still feel sick when mingling with other people. Although your mind acted on its needs, your heart yearned for connection— for Nanami Kento.

— LUST FOR LIFE : summer bummer , groupie love

With your teases and flirty remarks, the two men find themselves guessing the color of your panties— another game they played besides golfing.

────୨ৎ────

thinking about dilf nanami , nanami with a wifey who loves sundresses , dilf nanami in love , backshots from Nanami in a Ghost cosplay , e-sex , untitled

٠࣪୨ৎ┆ GOJO SATORU

— gojo as a soon to be dad

— jjk men when they break the tiktok streak

— princess treatment with jjk men

— jjk men finding out their s/o writes fanfiction

— sheriff on the duty

٠࣪୨ৎ┆ GETO SUGURU

— jjk men when they break the tiktok streak

— princess treatment with jjk men

— jjk men finding out their s/o writes fanfiction

٠࣪୨ৎ┆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

— jjk men finding out their s/o writes fanfiction

— bodyguard!toji

٠࣪୨ৎ┆ RYOMEN SUKUNA

— the other woman

A tale of an unfortunate woman— cursed with a lonesome life, pouring all of her love to a wretched and unfaithful man.

— she's fucking the gangster !

— untitled

٠࣪୨ৎ┆HIGURUMA HIROMI

— LUST FOR LIFE : summer bummer

With your teases and flirty remarks, the two men find themselves guessing the color of your panties— another game they played besides golfing.

[estellan0vella]

Eras AU Masterlist Main Masterlist

Eras ❀ The JJK men across time

Legend Of The Cursed Tempest ❀ Pirate Captain!Suguru Geto AU ❀ Word Count: 9.8K

The Outlaw and His Radical Woman ❀ Wild West Toji Fushiguro AU ❀ Word Count: 5.5K

Many More Happy Days ❀ Victorian Gentleman Kento Nanami AU ❀ Word Count: 6.6K

More Precious Than Anything (WIP) ❀ Industrial Revolution Foundryman!Yuji Itadori AU ❀ Word Count: 7.8K

Nothing Is Ever Truly Perfect ❀ Titanic Passenger Megumi AU ❀ Word Count: 6.5K

Epitome of Glamour and Sophistication ❀ 1920s Satoru Gojo AU ❀ Word Count: 4.8K

We Save Each Other (WIP) ❀ WW2 Toge Inumaki AU ❀ Word Count: 8.6K

Cherry ❀ 1950s Gangster Ryomen Sukuna AU ❀ Word Count: 6.9K

Artists, Musicians and Dreamers ❀ 1980s Grunge!Choso AU ❀ Word Count: 6.6K

[noirflms]

ROMANCE TROPES + jujutsu kaisen

— - main m.list ! ( manga spoilers ahead in sukuna one )

. ° 𖤐 ₊ GOJO SATORU !

enemies to lovers ! you and gojo met in jujutsu tech , during the schooling years , and since then it has always been sorts of rivalry between you two , trying to one up each other and always commenting upon each others skills. it was absolutely funny for geto and shook to watch , you two bickering in front of them , throwing sarcastic remark after another and another , competition to do a mission before the other does , name it all. gojo purposely bullied you , called you names , and it was until he had been a bit too hard to bear , and it was the day his heart crumbled , his facade dropping , and the feeling he king hid within sarcastic remarks comes pooling in. there were tears lingering in your eyes , mind still loops the harsh words of satoru , your heart ached as you sobbed into your knees and then you feel arms wrap around you , trembling they pull you in , and it was the day gojo satoru had finally scummed to his knees for someone.

. ° 𖤐 ₊ GETOU SUGURU !

brother’s best friend ! being the first and only cousin to the gojo satoru directly meant being his sibling — from another mother. gojo being and extremely happening person hadn’t missed introducing you to his best friend , the one and only of his partner in crime — getou suguru. he hung around the house more than anyone ( even more than shoko ) , he was always around the house , may it be the kitchen pantry or any room , and everyone knew getou , so you were no different , but the stupid mushy feeling that erupted like butterflies in your stomach made you all so different. it all began with fleeting touches , sweet remarks and effortless flirting. it soon turned into lingering stares and small talk , late night chats and running away from home for ice-cream runs , and your feeling grew , and satoru caught onto those , he knows his best friend , he knows getou too well. but getou is not far different from you , he had fallen long before even you did , loving you since the day he first saw , but always scared to make a move because of the certain six eyes haver.

. ° 𖤐 ₊ NANAMI KENTO !

office romance ! and as cliche as it sounds , it was perfect for you and nanami kento. you being his assistant and working under him , it was all good , you did whatever was told , working overtime for the sake of his work to be done ( without his knowing ) , bringing him his early morning drinks and what not but you had no problem doing so and it irked nanami to no end. the way you did the work so diligently , the way you handled everything better than him , it was certainly pretty annoying yet he seemed to like the way you did everything the way he liked. the romance build up wasn’t until the point he found out a office mate had asked you out on a date , it was fine until he started thinking of hundred different scenarios and in the pits of his stomach formed a feeling so unknown. it was raining that day , night had long fallen , you were working , him and you left alone and it was then it all conspired. his voice loud and so was yours , no clue of how and why this was happening and it all dawned upon nanami the moment you had rushed out the office with tears rolling down your cheeks , his feet shook and his hand reaches out for the umbrella , and he rushes after you and within it he realises of his feelings for you.

. ° 𖤐 ₊ FUSHIGURO TOJI !

second chance love ! how you had met toji was something even you couldn’t fathom , stumbling upon the young fushiguro sobbing and crying for his father and only to be stuck to you until he found his father and with you he did , but it was certainly scary to see a six foot man , buff and burly walk up to you , and asking for the boy while looking like a whole gangster , and finding you were his neighbour must have been gods work then. from fleeting voices to small talk , from babysitting megumi to always being around toji’s house at odd hours , and so little by little you started falling for the man , but you never knew of his past of present and so you choose to let go. while toji contemplated the feeling burning in his chest , scared to fall in love again , afraid to lose his all for he does a job so dangerous but he gave in , for he found a good parent for megumi in you and a perfect partner for him. he gave in when you confessed to him , teary eyes and wobbly smile and the emotions of rejection burning in your eyes but he gives in for you , and yearning for a second chance at love.

. ° 𖤐 ₊ SUKUNA RYOMEN !

red string of fate ! the king of curses and his lover reborn as a mortal. but it is was destiny that had tied you and sukuna together , the red string of fate a certainty of him being yours and you being his. it was him who remembered when he saw you , his eyes twinkled with regret and remorse , something akin to what the king of curses would feel. but the string that tied you and him together was certainly meant something else. sukuna’s jabbing remarks to nostalgic responses , the fleeting touches to flashes of old memories brought you to see the red string tying you to him. but it burned when you had bleed again , fighting of curses that would have brought destruction , the whole of shibuya in ruins as he hold you close , the red string burns the brightest ever seen and he is reminded of his promise and fate unknown , for his love and destiny all belonged to you , but the red that paints his skin , was a sign so different.

[kingryosukuna-archived]

I - uhm - I don’t want to say that you made my whole day brighter because that’s sappy, but well… you get where I’m going with this? *hides blush behind a curtain of hair*

Still curious though…

You can say it. It’s cute to hear it every once in a while. I don’t hear it often.