#jujutsukaisen Sukuna

[sugurus-thoughts]

01. A nonsense christmas

❅ pairing — president! Ryomen Sukuna x singer! reader

❅ summary — You're my wish list Lookin' at you got me thinking Christmas Snowflakes in my stomach when we're kissin' And when you're comin' down the chimney, ooh, it feels so good I need that Charles Dickens You'll be Santa Claus and I'll be Mrs.

❅ w/c — 10,85k

❅ warning — age gap (sukuna early 30's reader in her early 20's), based during 1930's, angst, fluff, smut, touching, MDNI, oral sex (giving), mentions of neglect.

❅ a/n — this fic was inspired by Marilyn Monroe and JFK back in the day. I truly don't know what happened between those two but I did watch the documentary series of Marilyn Monroe and honesty my heart truly goes out to her and I love her so much! And I hope you love this story as much as I wrote it. I wasn't excited writing this but as I wrote it it became much more comforting to me :') ❤️🍰

It begins with the snow—soft, relentless, blanketing the city like a promise of peace. You’ve always found winter in the capital to be impossibly beautiful, even as it presses its cold fingers against your skin. Tonight, though, the beauty of it all feels distant, eclipsed by the grandeur of the Presidential Residence looming before you.

You step out of the car, your heels clicking against the polished stone driveway, your breath curling like smoke in the icy air. The mansion rises like a beacon against the winter night, its windows spilling warm light into the darkness. The Christmas Gala. The most coveted event of the year. And you—the season’s brightest star—are here not as a guest, but as its entertainment.The crowd itself could not withstand your siren beauty as camera flashes surround you. With your white lace dress and faux scarf wrapped all around you—how could you have said no to a camera.

Inside, the air is heavy with the scent of evergreen and champagne. The towering Christmas tree, dripping with crystal ornaments and golden ribbons, commands the room’s attention, but not as much as the man standing beneath it. President Ryomen Sukuna. His name carries the weight of a nation, his presence magnetic even among the sea of glittering gowns and tailored suits. He’s watching you, though you pretend not to notice, your practiced grace carrying you toward the stage.

The moment you step into the spotlight, the world falls silent. You don’t just sing; you command. Your voice weaves through the room, low and sultry, wrapping around the crowd like velvet. The President doesn’t look away—not once. You feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, burning through the layers of glamour you’ve wrapped around yourself.

“Sata baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight

Think of all the fun I've missed

Think of all the fella's that I haven't kissed

Next year I could be just as good

If you check off my Christmas list”

When the final note fades, applause erupts, but your eyes find his. He’s clapping slowly, deliberately, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. And in that instant, you know—this night is only the beginning.

After leaving the stage you navigate your way, through the buzzing crowd offering polite smiles and nods but keeping your distance.

You were used to this—all the praises, all the eyes but yet tonight it felt heavier than usual,as if all eyes were watching to see your next move.

Politicians, socialists and business tycoons—all these powerful leaders, greeting you with so much respect but yet, you could feel the lingering eyes of their partners. It was never easy to be a female with so much prominence but yet it hurt —it hurts to be hated by your own kind. We were supposed to support one another, to uplift one another but the cruelty of being a woman in this society was truly a burden.

You had to leave,the whispers among these people were too much to bear.

You slip into a quieter part of the residence—for some reason you found yourself in a cozy study filled with books and beautiful paintings . The soft hum of the party fades away and you take a moment to catch your breath, savoring the stillness in this moment.

You rarely had moments to yourself —your life was a whirlwind of rehearsals, performances, and endless scrutiny. Being an artist in a world where men dictated the rules was a challenge on its own, but being a woman in this world came with invisible chains. They didn't take you seriously, not really. To them you were a pretty face, perfect body, pleasant voice, a fleeting novelty. And yet your talent commanded rooms filled with the most powerful people in the country.

But it was just the men. Women didn't seem to like you either, much worse actually. You'd catch their sharp glances, their whispering behind raised champagne flutes. They saw you as a threat— a reminder of the rules they could never break, the freedom they did dare to take. It stung deeply, more than you can admit. You didn't want to compete,it was never what your nature —instead you wanted to be seen for more than glittering persona you wore on stage

The loneliness that came with that, was something that could not be turned away.It all settled into your chest like a cold ache. No matter how much applause you earned, how many invitations you received, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were performing for a world that would never truly embrace you.

The library is dimly lit, the polished wood floors creaking softly under your heels. You find yourself in a study, its walls lined with books that smell of leather and time. A fire crackles in the hearth, its warmth a welcome contrast to the cold edges of the gala.

You cross to the window, tracing a finger against the frosted glass. Outside, the snow continues to fall, silent and unyielding. For a moment, you feel like you can breathe again.

“Running away from your admirers?” The voice startles you, low and rich, with a hint of amusement. You turn to find him leaning against the doorframe, his hands tucked casually into his pockets, as if he owns not just the room but the very air you are breathing.

The President.

For a second, neither of you exchange words. Silence filled the room and the only sound that could be heard was the warmth of the fire crackles. His gaze, it feels so much heavier than the opulent chandelier in this room.

“You flatter me Mr President,” you finally managed, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

“But I'm not running. Just… catching my breath”.

“From the crowd or the applause?” he asked, stepping into the room, his polished shoes loud against the wooden floor.

“Both” you admit, leaning light against the wooden ledge. “It's a bit overwhelming, even for someone used to the spotlight”

A faint smile crosses his sharp features,his eyes never leaving yours. “ I imagine it would be. Though you make it seem effortless. You captivated them”.

“I'm sure that feeling you know well,” you counter, tilting your head slightly. “Captivating a room comes naturally to someone in your position”

His laugh is soft, almost modest, “Captivating and control are not the same thing. They listen to me because they have to. They listen to you because they want to.”

You hesitate, unsure if his words were a compliment or yet a challenge. “And which one are you Mr President?” you ask, your voice soft but laced with curiosity. “Do you want to listen, or do you have to?”

A smirk deepens as he moves around the study, looking at a few paintings. “That” he says is a very good question” his eyes caught yours, a glimmer of something unreadable expression.

You hold his gaze, feeling the weight of that moment—for the first time that evening you felt like you weren't performing —but unraveling.

His steps draw closer and closer —just close enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne —rich, warm and just utterly disarming. His gaze is unwavering, as though searching for something beneath your carefully composed exterior.

“I want to” he says, his voice low and deliberate, each word rolling off his tongue with quiet intensity.

The corner of his mouth lifts in a subtle l, almost wicked smiles,and for a moment the world outside the room feels very far.

“And not just your singing”

Irritation kicked in. You were so used to all of this. Men lusting over you, women glaring at you, finding ways to just get you in their bed. It was no surprise he was doing the same thing.

“Why do you sing?”, he asked softly.

The question caught you off guard. Never has any man nor woman asked you such a vulnerable question. For a moment you could not fathom his words, clearly you have never been seen or heard by anyone—can you be honest with yourself?. Your fingers graze the edge of the window ledge, seeking something solid to anchor yourself.

“I sing because it’s the only time I feel free,” you admit softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “When I’m up there, it doesn’t matter what they think of me, what they expect. For a few minutes, it’s just me and the music. No judgments. No rules.”

You glance at him, half-expecting ridicule or a dismissive smile, but his expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed on you like he’s hearing something rare and precious.

“And because,” you continue, a faint, bittersweet smile tugging at your lips, “if I don’t, I feel like I’ll disappear.”

For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, but his gaze softens, losing its sharp, commanding edge. Slowly, he steps closer, his voice quiet and deliberate.

“You don’t have to disappear,” he says, as if it’s a promise meant only for you. “Not when the world is watching—and certainly not when I’m listening.”

His words catch you off guard, not because of their tenderness but because they feel... genuine. As if, for the first time, someone truly sees the weight you carry beneath the glamour.

“You’re not just a voice on a stage,” he continues, his tone firm yet gentle. “You’re so much more than they’ll ever understand.”

The way he says it, the way he looks at you, makes you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’s right.

“Mr President,” your tone exposing the faint glimmer of gratitude. For the first time, it felt like someone understood you, not Y/N for the star you are but for the Y/N who you are. “Thank you, I appreciate your kind words” you smile in his direction.

Your smile is contagious enough to draw a simple one from him. For a moment silence surrounds the both of you, the party that was long lost seems to fade away slowly.

“So, do you always have time to chase after the singer at your parties, Mr. President?” you ask, your voice dripping with charm as you rise gracefully from your seat. Slowly, you move through the library, feigning nonchalance, though his piercing gaze follows your every step.

“You know, Little Songbird, you never fail to surprise me,” he murmurs, his baritone voice rich with amusement. The nickname lingers in the air like a melody, and your steps falter for just a second. Songbird? Did he really just call you that?

You don’t dare look back, but his footsteps trail closely behind, deliberate and unhurried. The tension in the room sharpens as you realize the path you’ve chosen leads you to a dead end—a bookshelf towering before you with no opening in sight.

With a steadying breath, you turn at last, only to find him standing right in front of you, much closer than you’d anticipated. His presence feels overwhelming, his gaze holding yours like a quiet command. For a moment, the world seems to shrink to just the two of you, the warmth of his proximity sending a shiver down your spine.

“Mr President…” you whisper softly,your voice barely audible over the sounds of your own racing heartbeat. His gaze never wavers, dark and intense, ranking over your slightly trembling figure as if committing ever detail to memory.

He leans in, so close— the faint scent of bourbon—his breath brushes against your ear, the rich timbre of his voice low and deliberate.

“Some things, little songbird” he murmurs, each word dripping with meaning “are chasing —even for a president”

The air between you two feels impossibly charged, and for a moment, the world outside ceases to exist. That is until the sharp clatter of heels against the wooden floor slices through the tension like a cold gust of wind.

“Ryomen” a clipped, feminine voice calls out,breaking the spell. Your turn instinctively to see her standing in the doorway—The First Lady, groomed in diamond and scandal. The papers have been relentless about her affairs, her icy aura, her calculated public appearance. Now she doesn't even spare you a glance, her eyes solely on him as if you don't exist. Of course what did you expect,in such a state.

“They need you for the announcement”, she says briskly, her tone more business than affection.

The president straightens, his expression slipped back into its stoic mask, though his gaze lingers on you for a fraction longer than it should. You take a step back suddenly feeling the weight of that moment, it's as if you didn't belong there. The tightening in your chest only made it worse.

Without another, you turn to slip past him, the faint brush of his fingers against yours—intentional or accidental—you knew neither, sending a shiver through you. You leave the room without saying goodbye, your exit as quiet as the storm building in your chest.

That night —on that cold invaded night, your thoughts were filled with the man that led this country. A man adored by his power, status—and wealth.He seemed to have the world in his grasp, yet for some reason, it felt as though he was also beginning to hold your heart in his hands.

It has been more than a week ever since that cold evening. For some reason, it hasn't crossed your mind—the way the president swept you off your feet—it was just a flush encounter to you, nothing more.

It was that time of year, where you could see the snow fall, hear children's laughter, see the smile upon elders and mostly give out to those in need.

The room hummed with warmth and laughter, a stark contrast to the cold world outside. The children’s charity event was one of your favorite occasions—a rare moment where the glitz of your public persona faded into something far more meaningful. You loved working with children, their innocence and joy reminding you of a world untouched by judgment or pretense.

Dressed in a soft elegant gown, draped with a faux fur coat to cover your body from this weather. You knelt beside a small girl painting ornaments at one of the long tables. For some reason it brings back the memories of when you sat at this very table, painting but mostly single—you were truly the star back then, even now. Her giggles bring you back to reality, as she proudly displays her masterpiece, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling a rare lightness in your chest. For once you were known for “the voice” or “the star”. You were just…. you.

But the lightness didn't last long. You felt it before you saw him—that familiar commanding presence that seemed to shift the air in the room. Straightening, you glanced towards the entrance, and there he was. President Ryomen Sukuna, flanked by his wife, whose practiced smile seemed like the polished diamonds that hung around her throat.

Their arrival stole the attention of the room,applause ripping through the crowd as they made their way towards the stage. You tried focusing on the children but the warmth you felt moments ago slipped through your fingers like sand. And finally your eyes meet from across the room, everything else seems to fade slowly.

The moment your eyes locked, time seemed to slow, the loud chatter in the room fading into a distant murmur. He held your gaze for a beat longer than he should have, something unspoken passing between you. Then, just as quickly, he turned his attention back to the crowd, his expression neutral and composed as he greeted donors and officials.

You let out a shaky breath, turning back to the little girl, who was now adding glitter to her ornament. “You’ll need to let it dry,” you said softly, forcing a smile and focusing on her instead of the fluttering in your chest.

But you weren’t oblivious to him. Every move he made seemed to draw your attention, no matter how hard you tried to stay grounded. His wife, ever the picture of poise, clung to his arm as they mingled, though her wandering eyes and absent smiles told another story. The tabloids had been relentless about her rumored affairs, and seeing her up close, you wondered how much truth there really was to them.

A volunteer approached you, asking if you’d mind helping distribute gifts to the children. You agreed eagerly, relieved to have something to distract you. Carrying a box of wrapped toys, you moved to the front of the room, where several kids were eagerly waiting.

As you handed out the gifts, you felt his gaze on you again. This time, when you glanced over, he was watching you with an intensity that made your pulse quicken. It wasn’t the gaze of a president assessing a performer. It was something else entirely—something deeper, more personal.

But before you could dwell on it, his wife stepped forward, taking his arm and guiding him toward the podium. The crowd hushed as he began his speech, his rich, commanding voice filling the room.

You tried to focus on his words, but your mind drifted. Was he thinking about the last time you saw each other? About the way you left without saying goodbye? And why, despite everything, did you feel drawn to him still?

After the speech, the president and his wife descended from the stage, moving toward the children’s area where you stood. You busied yourself with the toys, hoping to avoid any interaction, but fate, as always, had other plans.

As the President approached, you felt a strange mix of anticipation and nerves settle in your chest. He moved with an air of quiet authority, his presence commanding attention even in the lively atmosphere of the children’s charity event

When he finally reached you, his eyes softened, the faintest smile lingers upon his sharp features. “Miss Y/L/N”, he greeted, his voice formal, though there was something in his tone —something just for you.

You offer a polite smile with your hands clasped together in front of you. “Mr President”, your voice steady but you weren't sure if the tightness in your chest gave away any form of tension between the two of you.

But before the moment could stretch into anything more, his wife stepped forward, her perfectly painted smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Oh it's you” she said, her tone light but laced with thinly veiled condescension.

Your eyes widened, and a plastering smile forms across your now—nervous state.

The awkward silence between the two of you, so loud, you could hear a pin drop. You finally protest to speak but her remark caught you off guard “Performers always seem so undressed these days and at a charitable event how amusing, don't you think Sukuna dear?”.

Your plastered smile was quickly faltered for the briefest moment, though you quickly masked it with a polite laugh, pretending her words hadn't stung. Your gaze flicked to the President, searching for any hint of reaction. But Sukuna, ever composed, simply raised an eyebrow, his lips pressing into a thin line as he regarded his wife with an unreadable expression.

“I suppose it depends on one’s perspective,” he finally said, his tone neutral but carrying an edge that made her smile tighten ever so slightly.

You tried to find your footing, clearing your throat as you turned back to the children. “The little ones seem to enjoy the event,” you said lightly, kneeling to hand a gift to a boy beaming up at you. “That’s what truly matters, doesn’t it?”

The First Lady hummed in response, a sound that wasn’t quite agreement but wasn’t outright dismissal either. Her cold, appraising gaze swept over you once more before she turned her attention back to her husband. “You’re needed for the press conference soon, darling,” she said, slipping her arm through his with a practiced ease that was as much for the cameras as it was for control.

Sukuna hesitated, his eyes lingering on you for just a fraction too long. “I’ll be there shortly,” he replied, his voice firm yet calm.

She frowned, clearly displeased but unwilling to argue in public. With a sharp nod, she turned and began walking toward the stage, her heels clicking against the polished floor

The tension between you and Sukuna hung in the air as you stood, brushing invisible dust from your gown. “She's… lovely” you said your tone clear but yet a hint of sarcasm slipped through.

But reality crept back in, and with it, the reminder of who he was—and who you weren’t. “Well, Mr. President,” you said, offering a polite nod. “Enjoy the rest of the evening.”

You turned and walked away, your heart heavier with every step, knowing you’d left more unsaid than you’d ever dare admit.

“Let’s take it from the top. We need your vocals in check,” Yuji said, gesturing toward the sheet music spread out on the stand.

You nodded, stepping up to the microphone. The melody began to fill the room, soft and slow, but your mind wandered. Two days. It had been two days since the charity event, and the weight of the First Lady’s scornful words still lingered. Doubt crept into your thoughts, whispering cruel questions: Were you too much? Did you belong in spaces like these, surrounded by powerful people who seemed to thrive on tearing others down?

“Miss Y/L/N?” Yuji’s voice broke through your reverie.

You blinked, realizing the music had stopped. “I’m sorry, Yuji. My mind is elsewhere.”

He gave you a small, understanding smile. “Let’s call it a night. You’ve done enough for today.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, you noticed it was nearing midnight. “You’re right. Thank you, Yuji.”

He waved you off as you gathered your coat. “I’ll lock up. Go get some rest.”

The chill of the winter night greeted you as you stepped outside. A short car ride later, you arrived at your hotel, its warm, dimly lit lobby offering a momentary reprieve from the biting cold.

Once in your room, you slipped out of your coat and shoes, collapsing onto the chaise by the window. The city lights twinkled faintly below, but your thoughts were elsewhere—on him. You didn’t want to admit it, but his gaze from across the room during the charity event still lingered in your mind.

The shrill ring of the telephone startled you from your thoughts. You hesitated, staring at the black rotary phone on the side table. Who could be calling at this hour? Slowly, you picked up the receiver.

“Hello?”

There was a pause, and then that unmistakable voice came through, rich and smooth, sending a jolt through you. “Little Songbird.”

Your breath caught,you knew that nickname. “Mr. President?”

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, his tone softer than you’d ever heard it.

You glanced at the clock—it was well past midnight. “It’s late,” you murmured, unable to mask the mixture of surprise and curiosity in your voice.

“I know,” he admitted, his voice lowering. “But I couldn’t wait any longer.”

The silence that follows through, was suppressed by the faint falling of snow,people wandering outside the hotel at this very late hour.

“How did you know where I was?”, your voice barely above a whisper,as you lay in bed.

“I'm the president, you know?” he murmured but you could hear the smirk underneath his baritone voice.

For some reason, you could not respond. You merely sat there in silence, trying to understand the situation.

“Since you are the President, I'll let you do your work. I'm sure you have loads of work to attend to” with sarcasm dripping from your tone

But before you could put down the receiver, you heard him whisper.

“May I hear your new record…will you sing it for me?”

The silence stretched for a moment, broken only by the faint sound of snowflakes brushing against the window. You clutched the receiver tighter, your pulse quickening at his bold request.

“You want me to sing for you?” you asked, your voice laced with disbelief.

“Yes,” he replied simply, his tone low and steady. “But not now. I want to hear it properly, away from prying eyes and ears.”

You hesitated, unsure where this was going, and yet unable to resist the pull in his voice. “And where exactly would that be?”

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “There’s a lodge I keep outside the city—quiet, secluded. It’s where I go when I need to… escape.”

Your heart thudded in your chest as the weight of his words settled. “You’re asking me to meet you there?”

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Tomorrow evening. No staff, no cameras, no interruptions. Just you and me.”

You bit your lip, torn between intrigue and the dangerous implications of what he was suggesting. “Mr. President… do you realize what you’re asking?”

“I do,” he said firmly. “But I can’t seem to stop myself.”

The line went quiet for a moment, save for the sound of your breathing. “I’ll send a car for you,” he added softly, his voice carrying an unmistakable warmth. “If you decide to come.”

And with that, the line went dead, leaving you alone in the stillness of your room, grappling with a decision that could change everything.

❅❅❅

Standing like a king awaiting his queen’s arrival, the soft glow of the lantern behind him casting shadows that danced across his sharp features. In his black, loose-fitted pants and a weathered brown trench coat, he seemed worlds apart from the image of power he carried in the city. Here, he wasn’t the President; he was just… Ryomen Sukuna.

“You came,” he whispered, his voice low, almost disbelieving.

“Well it was the President's request, how could I possibly say no? ” Your voice matched his tone, soft and intimate, laced with a teasing edge. But your eyes—your eyes never left his.

He stepped closer, the crunch of snow beneath his boots the only sound breaking the stillness. The biting cold nipped at your skin, but his presence seemed to radiate warmth, pulling you in like the embers of a dying fire.

“I didn’t think you would,” he admitted, his hand brushing lightly against yours, testing the waters.

“Neither did I,” you replied honestly, your breath forming small clouds in the frosty air.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world around you seemed to pause, the snow falling in gentle whispers as you stood there, suspended in time. His hand finally closed over yours, his touch firm yet hesitant, as if afraid you might pull away.

“Come”, he said softly, leading you to the lodge.

The warmth inside was a stark contrast to the wintry night outside. A fire crackled in the stone heart, filling the room with a golden glow. It was simple l, rustic even, a world away from the luxurious Ness you associated with him. At that moment it felt so… perfect.

He gestured for you to sit near the fire,and you did, feeling the heat seep into your chilled skin. He poured two glasses of red wine, the essence of the luxurious wine reached your nose as he handed you one before settling into the chair opposite from yours.

“You're different here,” you said after a moment of studying him.

“How so?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips as he swirled the wine in his glass.

“You're not the man I saw standing beside his wife two days ago,” you admitted. “Here you seem… freer”.

He chuckled, his tone rich and vibrant enough to fill the silence in this room. “Perhaps, it's because for once, I can be myself”

For a moment you could only bear his vulnerability, your ache slightly at his confession.

His eyes burned into yours, the space between you charged with an intensity that made your heart race. But then, as if sensing the weight of the moment, he pulled back slightly, his expression softening.

“There’s something I want to show you,” he said, his voice low, but the edges of a faint smile tugged at his lips.

You blinked, confused by the sudden shift in tone. “What is it?”

He stood, offering you his hand. Hesitant but intrigued, you placed your hand in his, letting him guide you toward the far end of the room. Your footsteps were soft against the wooden floor, the warmth of the fire fading as you moved closer to the shadows.

Then you saw it—a beautiful grand piano, polished to perfection, sitting in the corner of the lodge. Its elegance felt out of place in the rustic room, but it was breathtaking all the same.

You stopped, staring at it in disbelief. “Where did this…?”

“I had it brought here earlier today,” Sukuna admitted, rubbing the back of his neck almost sheepishly. “I thought… if you came, maybe you’d play. Maybe you’d sing.”

Your hand flew to your mouth, overwhelmed by the gesture. No one had ever done something like this for you—not with this much thought, this much care. “Sukuna…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I wanted you to feel… seen,” he said softly, his usual confidence tempered by vulnerability. “You said you’d sing for me, remember?”

You nodded, your throat tightening as you stepped toward the piano. Running your fingers over the keys, you pressed one lightly, the note echoing through the quiet room. Taking a deep breath, you sat down, your hands trembling slightly as they settled on the keys.

The first note you played was soft, uncertain, but as you continued, the music poured out of you, filling the space with something raw and beautiful. And then you sang—softly at first, but soon your voice swelled, carrying the emotions you couldn’t put into words.

When the last note faded into the stillness, you turned to find Sukuna standing right behind you, his gaze locked on yours.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, he leaned down, his hands resting lightly on the edge of the piano, caging you in. His face was so close now, his breath warm against your skin.

“Sukuna… Mr President…” your eyes reverting away from his, trying to find a way to remove yourself from this situation.

“Say it”, he murmured his voice low, almost a growl. “Tell me, Little Songbird… tell me you don't feel it too. That this isn't tearing you apart the way it's tearing me apart”.

Your eyes met his burning ones for a moment. You could see the yearning, you could see the flames that were about to combust as if he was restraining himself from whatever chains were weighing them down.

You opened your mouth to speak but unfortunately no words were formed. You didn't need them. The way your hand reached out on its own was enough to speak, brushing against his jawline, said more than words ever could.

His head dipped for a moment, eyes closed as the softness of your hands stroked against the rough patches against his skin. He slowly leaned forward, and for a moment you thought he would kiss you but instead he stopped, his lips hovering just a breath away above yours, his eyes searching yours as if asking for permission.

Your heart pounding —he was so close you could feel the rhythm of his heart in sync with yours.

“This is reckless, Mr President…” you whisper softly barely audible over the sounds of beating hearts. He titled his head, giving just enough time to pull away if you wanted to.

“Do you believe that, Little Songbird? ”, his words cast a veil of questions against your chest. Did you? The truth was you didn't know. Or maybe want to admit you cared about the consequences anymore.

“I believe”, you whisper, lips so close you could feel the slightest touch, “you've already done something to me”

That is all it took,for Sukuna to close the distance between the two of you. His lips brushed against yours so softly at first, hesitant.

But his hand slid to cup your face, the kiss deepened, all tension, longing, and unspoken words between you spilling in that single, undeniable moment.

“Mr President” the soft mewl of your voice—saying his name like that sent him to heaven itself.

It seemed your bodies gravitated towards one another, so naturally—so perfect. His lips pressed against yours with a fervent need, and you melted into, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself in this moment. The kiss began slowly, searing burn, but soon it ignited into something wilder, something neither could suppress.

Sukuna's hands, strong and sure, slid to your waist, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed nothing at all. A soft gasp escaped your lips, quickly swallowed but the intensity of his kiss as he guided you back. Your body met the surface of the piano behind you, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating between the two of you.

The instrument groaned under the sudden shift, a discordant, jarring filling the room. You both froze for a moment, startled by the sound. Then his baritone voice filled the room with a chuckle,low and rich like velvet.

“Careful” he murmured against your lips, forehead resting against your for a brief moment. The corner of his mouth quivered into a smile, and you could help but laugh softly yourself,a flush creeping up your skin.

“Your piano might not survive, us, “ You whisper breathlessly, the teasing lilt in your voice only adding to the intimacy of the moment.

“Your piano Little Songbird” he responded with a smirk, the nickname causing you to blush tremendously. “Let it” before both his hands cupped your face, kissing you harder and much more desperate this time.

The piano hummed faintly beneath you as he deepened the kiss. His fingers explore every inch of your body.

The warm tense of the fire surrounding both of you, was only enough to fuel the intense passion you both had been burdening for the past few weeks. You could taste the red wine linger against his tongue, for no longer than a second his lips brushed against your ear. Fainting whispering “You smell wonderful you know that?” the words clearly left you speechless, he licked a long stripe beneath your year.

The mewl that escaped your lips, only made it worse—kissing you next feverishly enough for you to roam your hand all over his chest,trying to find something to grip upon.

Without hesitation, he removed his shirt exposing his exquisite upper body. You couldn’t hide your flush cheeks, you barely had the strength to move at this point.

His hand gripped your waist, firm but reverent, as though he couldn't decide whether to claim you entirely or simply admire you. The kiss deepened a dance of unspoken emotions, and as his fingers roam over the soft expensive fabric of your dress, a sharp sound tore through the air—a rip.

You gasped, pulling back to look at him, your chest rising and falling with each rapid breath. “Sukuna!”, you exclaimed, bewildered, glancing down at your now-ruined fabric hanging loosely around your waist.

He smirked, entirely unrepentant, his eyes darkened with desire. “I'll buy you another”, his voice low and filled with a teasing edge, "something even better." His gaze swept over you, taking in every curve, every detail of your now-exposed form, and he inhaled sharply.

For a moment, he said nothing, his fingers trailing delicately along your skin, reverent and slow, as if committing every inch of you to memory. "You're ... " His voice faltered, and for the first time, you saw him speechless, utterly captivated. "Exquisite," he finally breathed, his tone rich with admiration, his eyes never leaving you.

You flushed under the weight of his gaze, a mixture of embarrassment and undeniable thrill coursing through you. "You tore my dress," you muttered, attempting to sound stern but failing as his lips brushed against your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

"And I'd do it again," he murmured, his hands tracing the curve of your back, pulling you closer. "You're a masterpiece, Little Songbird. How could I not be impressed?”

The words melted you, and before you could protest further, his lips claimed yours again, silencing any remaining resistance. The ruined dress was forgotten, the only thing that mattered now was the way his touch made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

The kisses were dark, lustful, exotic —his lips continued their journey down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. The ruined fabric slipped further, forgotten and discarded as his hands traced every curve with a touch that was both firm and reverent, as though he were exploring sacred ground.

"You're breathtaking," Sukuna whispered against your skin, his voice thick with awe and hunger. The smirk that usually adorned his face was gone, replaced by something deeper, more vulnerable. He looked at you as though you were the only thing in the world worth seeing.

The room went quiet for a bit, nothing but the faint breathing running of your lips.

“Sukuna…”, his lips traveled back to yours only to pick you and place you safely on his lap. Resting against the piano, a proud smirk plastered on his lips.

Slowly his hands made their way to your lacy underwear , kissing your neck soft enough.

“Do you know how maddening you are?”, his tone a mix of frustration and adoration. “You drive me insane Y/N”, and before you could utter a word his two fingers that were lined up against your entrance, finally found its home in your wet womanhood.

Your form lumped on top of his as you whispered his name, softly. Slowly his fingers started forming a rhythm, a groan escaped his lips, forehead resting against your shoulder—sucking it softly.

“You so wet, I can feel your waters dripping, Little Songbird” he murmurs mumbled against your skin. The stretch simply scratches pass his broad shoulders.

“Fuck, you like that don't you?” The question hung in the air, not knowing if it should be answered or not.

“Sukuna…I-” you whine, while his fingers go faster.

“You're making a mess, Little Songbird”, your skin damp, with sweat as you moved along with his pace. You couldn’t stop moving, your hips grinding against his fingers—a low chuckle escaped his lips.

“Mr President ” you gasp, your voice trembling as the pleasure builds to an unexpected peak—something you haven't felt in a while.

Your grip tightened, as his lips started sucking your boobs, the stimulation causing a slight blush against your cheeks

“Say it again”, as his fingers hit a certain part, driving you into ecstasy. You moaned his name again—satisfying his taste.

“Look at me, you hear me” you shook your head, only for him to grab your face—control was the only thing that mattered now.

Your eyes never left his as he kept fingers you, hard enough, you throw your head back at the pleasure.

“I'm close Mr President”you moan, your mouth hung open before you could even cum he pulled out his finger. You whine at the emptiness,enough to pull a smirk on those lips.

“A mess, you really made a mess” he said, looking at his fingers—but directly making you watch as he licked them off,like a starving lion.

“On your knees, now” he commanded gently, his voice smooth and inviting as she gracefully lowered herself before him. He smirked at her—he was enjoying this completely too much. He lower his head, enough to whisper in her ear “Now be a good girl a put that mouth to use”

His eyes never leave yours,offering him a soft smile. Your now trembling hand started to unbutton his pants —fingers hooked his pants and you slowly moved them down to his feet. You could see, his large member fully erect—you could see precum spewing from the top and to admit it he was big,bigger than you could ever imagine

Biting your lip, looking into his eyes as you gather enough silva in your mouth—slowly you part your lips enough to slide his thick member into your mouth. A low groan escaped his lips, his head flung back at the feeling. You slowly began to use your tongue, against his head,flicking your tongue just enough for his hand to grip your hair.

“Fuck, Little Songbird —yeah, you keep doing that”, with he a slight encouragement,you began to bob your head, slowly enough for him to tighten the hold on your hair. You kept your pace slow and steady enough, for him to savor every moment—the sudden urge to press you down further soon compelled and you could feel his leaking tip against the back of your throat.

“You look fucking beautiful like this—faster, fuck” you catch a glimpse of his euphoric state, the hair now clung to his sweaty forehead, slips slightly parted —heavy eyelids as they looked into yours.

You moved at the pace of this hand, sliding his big member against your throat, your free hand travelling to his balls as his hips bucked at the reaction. You sped up the pace, you could feel him throbbing against your throat, his thighs were shaking, and before you knew it he came—his hand gripped you hair tightly while gliding you down his staff and you could hear him say “Swallow it”, and you did every drop of cum, not leaving one a side.

All actions came to a stop, and in an instant Sukuna gripped your figure, almost throwing you on the piano.

“Mr President” you said against his lips—the roughness against your now sensitive skin only made it worse.

“You did well” a praise coming from his lips, leaning in he kissed you neck feverishly—his fingers gripped into your flesh, as if they were touching you for the first time in such a long time.

“I hope you're ready because I can't control myself anymore,” he said softly as he suddenly sucked your breast, squeezing the other soft flesh.

“I need you to bend over”, he panted against your breast. His hands reached out for yours to guide you in a position where you were bending slightly.

As you got on your knees, the continuation of his kisses didn't stop until he reached your core. Kissing it softly, as he slapped your cheek—enough to earn a moan from you. His hand moved to your hair, twisting it between his fingers gripping hard, you let out a soft whimper.

Slowly you could feel his thick member in your wet folds—pushing through you. Tossing his head back in pleasure as he filled you up,you could hear him curse beneath his breath.

The stretch was so much you could handle the way he was slightly pushing in and out of you. His eyes revert to your heels, seeing how stalking was still visible, as he hasn't seen them yet.

“You wore these damn stockings for me didn't you” he said as he kept pounding into you. You couldn’t answer, because the pleasure was truly too much for you to handle.

“Answer me Little Songbird,” a loud slap was heard and you moaned loudly enough,for him to smirk at your actions.

“Yes… yes Mr President”, you whisper but it only came out as a loud moan.

“How sweet of you… fuck your squeezing me so tight” he murmured, throwing his head back.

“Mr President I-” you whine, his one hand grabbing a handful of your ass, kneading the skin softly,as his member continued to push in you softly.

His hands released, hair ever so softly —both coming into contact with your hips gripping them tightly enough, controlling the rhythm of your hips as he continues his ministrations.

“Fuck you feel good, so fucking good”, his hand came into contact with you ass cheek once more,and you could breathe in the star you were in.

“Again,”you whine softly.

“Oh you like that, huh?”, a smirk invaded his lips and you felt the burning sensation of on cheek take over.

“I'm so close” you whimper, eyes closed , you could feel the knot in your stomach begin to form again. Looking back at Sukuna you could see a crease on his forehead, hair hung low, half lidded eyes and once again the stinging sensation against your cheek made everything so pleasurable.

“Me too, fuck” he grunted softly and his fingers made their way to your clit. You could fall apart now if you had to “Sukuna!” you exclaimed. You were gasping for air at this point, his thrusts became sloppy and you could feel him twitch inside you.

“I'm about to-” unable to finish your sentence you came, gripping against the frail dress that now laid on the piano. Your thighs shaking, not a minute longer you gasped at the feeling of his warm seed filling your womanhood. Your eyes revert to his hung open mouth. Sliding out of you, you felt his cum leak down your thigh.

His finger grazed up your thigh, scooping the remaining substance, without being told what to do he laced his fingers across your lips “Open up”, your parted, pressing the remaining substance in your mouth, and you sucked on them softly.

For a moment he could only smile, and he slowly embraced you and gave you a kiss.

❅

Later that evening you both lay on the carpet covered in blankets and the glow of the dying fire bathed the room in a soft, flickering light, casting shadows that seemed to dance around the two of you. The world outside felt distant and unreal, as if it had no claim on this moment. You lay against his chest, your head tucked beneath his chin, your breaths still uneven from the intensity of your time together. His arm draped over you protectively, holding you close as though letting you go was not an option.

“Are you warm enough?” Sukuna asked softly, his voice carrying a tenderness that sent a fresh wave of emotion through you.

You nodded, but instead of answering, you traced small patterns along the toned expanse of his chest, your fingers brushing over the faint scars etched into his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder about the stories they told, about the battles and burdens he carried—not just as the President, but as a man.

“What are you thinking about?” he murmured, his lips pressing against your temple.

You tilted your head to meet his gaze, the depth of his crimson eyes nearly undoing you. “That I’ve never seen you like this,” you admitted quietly. “Just… you.”

A soft chuckle rumbled in his chest. “And do you like what you see?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you rested your hand over his heart, feeling the steady rhythm beneath your palm. “I think I love what I see,” you whispered.

His expression softened, the teasing glint in his eyes replaced by something deeper. He reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your cheek with a gentleness that made your heart ache. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Maybe you should tell me.”

Sukuna’s smirk returned, but it was softer this time, filled with a warmth that felt entirely unlike the powerful, commanding man the world knew. “I would, but I’d need a lifetime to explain,” he murmured, his voice like velvet as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss so sweet, it made the air between you feel electric.

When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his hands cradling your face. “Promise me,” he said, his voice low and serious. “No matter what happens, no matter what the world throws at us, you’ll never doubt how much I want you, Y/N. Not just here, not just now—but always.”

Your breath hitched, and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. “I’ll try,” you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion.

For a long time, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the fire casting its golden glow over your entwined figures. And for a moment, it felt as though nothing else mattered—just you and Sukuna, and the fragile, beautiful connection you had built in the quiet of the night.

❅❅❅

The early morning sunlight filtered through the thin curtains of the lodge, casting a soft golden glow over the room. The air was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of the wind outside and the faint crackle of the dying fire in the hearth.

You stirred awake, the remnants of sleep still clinging to you, and for a moment, the events of the night before felt like a dream. But then, the warmth of Sukuna’s arm draped over your waist brought it all back—the stolen moments, the shared confessions, the way he had looked at you as though you were his entire world.

Carefully, you turned your head to look at him. He lay beside you, his features softened in sleep. Gone was the commanding President, the man whose decisions could sway nations. Before you was simply Sukuna, vulnerable and at peace, a side of him few had ever seen.

Your eyes lingered on him, a mixture of wonder and guilt tightening in your chest. The memory of his words echoed in your mind—“I always want you, and you only.” It had felt like a promise, a declaration that should have brought you comfort, but now it left you with a heaviness you couldn’t shake.

Slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, you gathered the discarded pieces of your clothing and wrapped his trench coat around yourself. The room was cold, but it was nothing compared to the whirlwind of emotions brewing inside you.

As you stood by the window, staring out at the snow-covered landscape, the enormity of your situation began to sink in. He was the President, a man with responsibilities, a wife, and a public image to uphold. And you? You were the woman who sang for a living, who had somehow captured the attention of a man who could have anything—or anyone—he wanted.

You heard him stir behind you, the sound of the bed shifting as he sat up. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Sukuna’s voice, still heavy with sleep, broke the silence.

You turned to face him, your heart aching at the sight of his disheveled hair and the vulnerability in his eyes. “I have to,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He stood, crossing the room in a few strides to stand before you. “Stay,” he said, his hand cupping your cheek. “Just stay.”

Tears welled in your eyes, but you forced a small, sad smile. “You know I can’t.”

The weight of your words hung heavily between you, and for a moment, neither of you moved. Then, he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if trying to anchor you to him.

“Just promise me one thing,” he murmured into your hair. “Promise me you’ll come back.”

You didn’t answer, not because you didn’t want to, but because you weren’t sure if you could. Instead, you pressed a kiss to his chest, letting the warmth of his embrace be your answer—for now.

A few months have passed and the two have been seeing each other regularly, it was as if you both were meant for one another. Each day played, like a movie—your smile was obvious and the papers could sense it too.

This morning was no different as you drank your coffee reading through the telegram that arrived on a quiet morning, the crisp paper trembling slightly in your hands as you read the words again and again. It was an offer—an invitation to join a renowned music conservatory in Italy, to live in a place where your voice could rise above judgment and scandal, to finally pursue your dreams on your own terms. A life of possibility stretched out before you, the kind of opportunity that felt almost too good to be true.

But the weight of it sank in just as quickly. Sukuna.

Later that evening, you found yourself standing in the lodge, the familiar scent of cedar and smoke heavy in the air. Sukuna had been waiting for you, as he always did during these stolen moments. His warm smile greeted you when you walked in, but it faltered as soon as he saw the serious expression on your face.

“You look troubled, Little Songbird,” he said softly, concern etched into his features. “What’s on your mind?”

You took a deep breath, clutching the telegram tightly in your hand. “I received an offer today,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “From Italy. A conservatory there wants me to join them. It’s… everything I’ve ever dreamed of.”

His face hardened in an instant, the warmth in his eyes replaced by something colder, sharper. “You’re leaving?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” you said quickly, though the words felt like a lie. “But I wanted to talk to you about it.”

Sukuna rose from his seat, his towering figure suddenly feeling more imposing than comforting. “There’s nothing to discuss. You’re not leaving,” he said firmly.

Your heart sank. “Sukuna, this is my chance—my chance to finally be something more. To be free.”

“Free?” His voice rose, and for the first time, you saw the storm brewing beneath his usually composed exterior. “You think you’ll find freedom away from here? Away from me?”

And there it was—the shift, the anger, the selfishness. You felt your emotions bubble to the surface as you stood your ground.

“Don’t you see? This isn’t about you!” you snapped, your voice rising to match his. “This is about me, my life, my dreams. For once, I’m choosing myself.”

“That’s not how this works,” he shot back, his voice a low growl. “You don’t just get to walk away from what we have.”

And then the fight spiraled—his refusal to let you go, your desperation to make him understand. The words were sharp, cutting deeper than either of you intended, until finally, the dam broke.

“You only want me when it’s convenient for you! Only for you!” you shouted, your voice cracking under the weight of your emotions.

The glass shattered against the wooden floor, and with it, so did the fragile balance you’d both been holding onto.Fury and pain poured out of you, a torrent you couldn’t stop as you turned away, pacing like a storm trapped within four walls. The wine glass in your hand slipped from your trembling grip, shattering against the wooden floor as hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

“You can’t just keep me here like one of your laws,” you said, your voice breaking. “This isn’t love. It’s control”. Your eyes burned into his, searching for some sign of guilt, some flicker of remorse in his stoic expression. But he just stood there, watching you with that same maddening calm. “You’re so selfish, Mr. President. Just once, let me go. Let me… be happy.”

Your voice cracked, barely above a whisper now, as you clutched your coat like it was the only thing anchoring you to yourself.

“Would leaving really make you happy?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost fragile. It wasn’t the commanding tone of the President. No, this was something else—something raw and vulnerable. It was Sukuna.

The weight of his words hit you harder than you expected. For a moment, the fight drained out of you, leaving only the exhaustion, the ache in your chest from holding it all in for so long. The silence between you was heavy, oppressive, broken only by the faint sound of his boots against the floor.

He crossed the space between you slowly, cautiously, as though afraid you might shatter if he moved too quickly. When he reached you, his arms encircled your trembling form, pulling you close against his chest. And in that moment, something in you broke. The tears came harder, years of hurt and betrayal spilling out in heaving sobs.

He held you through it all, his strong arms steady as your body shook. It wasn’t the embrace of a man in power or a leader commanding control. It was Sukuna—just Sukuna—holding you as if his own heart was breaking with every tear you shed.

“You think I want you only when it’s convenient?” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He gently cupped your tear-streaked face, tilting it up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, were softer now, filled with something you hadn’t expected—pain, longing, love. “I always want you. Always. And only you. Don’t you see that?”

Your breath caught, his words sinking into the cracks of your fragile heart. You wanted to respond, to say something, but no words came. Instead, you leaned into him, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that spoke everything you couldn’t put into words.

It was soft at first, hesitant, as though testing the boundaries of this fragile truce. But as his arms tightened around you, the kiss deepened, filled with all the emotions neither of you dared to voice before. It was a moment of surrender, of giving in to the truth you’d both been too afraid to face.

The kiss deepened, unspoken promises lingering between you as his arms tightened around you like he was afraid you’d slip away. The world outside the walls of the lodge ceased to exist. It was just the two of you—two souls fighting against the tides of power, duty, and love.

That night, the fire in the hearth wasn’t the only thing that burned. His touch was tender yet desperate, his lips tracing paths along your skin as though memorizing every inch of you. It was a moment neither of you could deny or regret—a moment where love triumphed over logic, if only for a fleeting night.

❅❅❅

As dawn broke, you lay tangled together in the sheets, his steady breathing against your neck a reminder of the man you’d seen beneath the title. He wasn’t just the President; he was Sukuna, flawed, vulnerable, and so undeniably yours. But as the sunlight crept into the room, so did reality.

You slipped out of his embrace, careful not to wake him as you dressed. The telegram lay folded in your coat pocket, a constant weight on your heart. With one last glance at him, his peaceful face etched into your memory, you left the lodge.

❅❅❅

The streets of the city were abuzz with life, the morning sun casting its golden light over the bustling crowds. Your suitcase felt heavier with every step you took toward the station. It wasn’t just the weight of your belongings—it was the weight of leaving him behind, of choosing yourself over a love you knew could never be fully yours.

But just as the station came into view, the sound of a commotion drew your attention. A crowd had gathered, their voices rising in excitement. And then you saw him.

Sukuna.

Standing on the steps of the grand hall, his gaze scanned the crowd until it landed on you. Time seemed to stop as he began descending the steps, his presence commanding the attention of everyone around him. Murmurs rippled through the crowd as people recognized their President, their leader stepping down into the throng like an ordinary man chasing what he loved.

He reached you, his chest heaving as though he had run through the entire city to find you. Without hesitation, he took your hand, his grip firm but not forceful.

“Everyone, listen,” he began, his voice steady but filled with unmistakable emotion. “This woman—she’s more than a singer, more than a performer. She’s the reason I wake up every morning. She’s the reason I want to be better, to be more. And I won’t let her go.”

The crowd gasped, whispers spreading like wildfire as his words echoed through the square. His public declaration was more than a profession of love—it was a challenge to the constraints that had kept you apart.

Your eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him, his gaze unwavering as he smiled softly at you. “You said I’m selfish,” he whispered, his voice just for you now. “And maybe I am. But I won’t let you leave without a fight.”

The world watched as he leaned down, pressing a kiss to your forehead—a simple gesture, yet it felt like a vow. You knew then that your life would never be the same, not with him willing to tear down everything to keep you by his side.

The weeks following Sukuna’s public declaration were nothing short of chaos. The scandal surrounding the President’s bold proclamation had shaken the nation. His advisors urged caution, political rivals pounced on the opportunity to criticize him, and the First Lady made no secret of her disdain.

But Sukuna was steadfast. For the first time in his presidency, he put himself—and his heart—first. The divorce was finalized in record time, quiet and swift, with the First Lady retreating from the public eye, taking her scandals with her.

Despite the chaos surrounding him, Sukuna remained unshaken, his resolve as strong as ever. The scandal didn’t matter. The criticism didn’t matter. What mattered was the woman he loved, and for the first time in his life, he had chosen something not for duty, not for the nation, but for himself.

The media frenzy eventually quieted, the public slowly coming to terms with the change. Some admired his bravery, calling his declaration an act of true love; others criticized his recklessness. But through it all, Sukuna stayed grounded because he had you.

One evening, just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a soft golden glow over the city, he led you to the garden behind the presidential residence. The air was crisp, and the faint scent of blooming flowers filled the space. Fireflies danced in the twilight, their soft light reflecting in your eyes.

“I have something for you,” Sukuna said, his voice warm as his fingers laced with yours.

“What is it this time?” you teased, smiling up at him. He had taken to spoiling you recently, as if making up for lost time.

He led you to a secluded spot in the garden where a small table was set with candles and a single bouquet of your favorite flowers. Resting beside them was a box—small and unassuming, but enough to steal your breath away.

“Sukuna…” you whispered, your heart pounding.

He picked up the box, holding it delicately in his large hands as he dropped to one knee. The world seemed to stop, the moment stretching infinitely as his sharp, commanding eyes softened into something you’d only ever seen in private—a love so deep it overwhelmed you.

“I’ve spent my life fighting battles for power, for politics, for this nation. But the only battle I’ve truly wanted to win is the one for your heart,” he said, his voice steady yet brimming with emotion. “You’ve given me courage I never thought I had. And now, I want to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you’ll always come first.”

He opened the box to reveal a ring—elegant, timeless, and perfect, just like him.

“Y/N, will you marry me?”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you nodded, your voice breaking as you finally said, “Yes. A thousand times yes.”

He slipped the ring onto your finger, then rose to his feet, pulling you into his arms. The kiss that followed wasn’t like the others—it was softer, filled with hope, promise, and a future you both finally dared to believe in.

The wedding was a quiet affair, intimate and away from the public eye. Sukuna had insisted on it, saying that the world had already taken too much from you both, and this day was yours alone.

Months later, as you stood by his side on the balcony of the presidential residence, overlooking a sea of people cheering for their President and his new First Lady, you felt the weight of everything that had led to this moment.

“I told you I’d fight for you,” Sukuna whispered, his arm wrapping around your waist as he looked out at the crowd.

“And you won,” you said, smiling up at him.

“No,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. “We won.”

And as the cheers echoed through the city, you knew this wasn’t just the start of a new chapter. It was the beginning of a love story for the ages, one that no amount of politics, scandals, or critics could ever tarnish. You were his, and he was yours—forever.

©suguru's-thoughts 2024, do not copy or translate my work. Deviders are from the lovely @adornedwithlight!! 🤍

❅ a/n —please just a reminder I was tired when I wrote then, which made me ramble a bit off and I pushed due to time as well :) I really hope you enjoy this. Deep down I feel like I put more effort into this, than the rest. I have never written anything for Sukuna and I just feel like this one took a lot effort and ideas but I had so much more idea—the time just caught up!!. But enjoy and if you seen any spelling mistakes just know I did not proofread this :') 🐈‍⬛

❅ taglist — @getobitchs, @coffee-and-geto, @emochosoluvr and @tsukuhoe 🍰🤍

[estellan0vella]

Jealousy, Jealousy ❀ includes: Gojo, Geto, Sukuna, Toji, Yuta & Megumi Masterlist

[burfbannd0g]

beast

[analikalee]

[sadistic-kiss]

Masked Menace (GhostFace!Sukuna x Reader)

PICTURE IS NOT MINE! IT BELONGS TO THIS BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING GO FOLLOW THEM~

@AnotherDeadBody on Pinterest and @john_vmpre on Instagram.

Summary:

You get a call from a random stranger that leads to your demise…

Or~

For your anniversary you and Sukuna play out the popular scream scene and live out you wildest slasher fantasy. (In a safe space)

GhostFace!Sukuna x Reader

Anime: JJK Universe: AU Pairing: Ghostface!SukunaxReader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smuttt 

Kink: CNC, Knifeplay, slight blood play (licking a wound), Mask kink, Strength kink, Choking, Dacryphilia, Degradation

*ingredients given by( AKA Commision by): Starlightaqua ~

Chef Note: It's a bit rough mentally but milk + cookies and a warm blanket is given at the end. (Angsty but not gege <3)

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

You lay on your king-size bed, lazily kicking your feet back and forth while watching TV. Ouija origins of evil, playing right before your very eyes.

 “Oh-“ You gasp at the jump scare, nearly flinching out of your skin. You weren’t afraid but it did give you chills watching it alone in your big house at night- where was your silly husband? He should have already been home. You pause the movie bouncing off your bed while you snatch your cell phone. Sticking your feet into your fuzzy pink bunny slippers you padded out of the room and downstairs, texting on your phone.

~❤️Beloved❤️~

Me: Hey where are you? 

❤️Beloved❤️: I’m wrapping things up

Your lips twist as you pout. Maybe you can send him a little motivation. You pose for your picture taking a quick snap of your frilly pink nightgown

Me: *IMAGE SENT*

Me: Get here soon ~

❤️Beloved❤️: MOMMY?! SORRY! MOMMY?!!!? SORRY! 

You let out a boisterous laugh as you set your phone on the counter. Humming to yourself you open your cabinets, bouncing your hip as you look for a snack. “…Tell me what you want what you really really want~ imma tell ya want I want what I-“

*RING RING*

Your eyes drift to your phone as it plays your ringtone. Reaching for your device you looked at the screen, eyebrows furrowed.

Unknown

“Who… the fuck…” You toss your hair answering the phone. “Hello?” 

-“Hello?” A deep velvety voice speaks into your ear.

Your eyes widen at the sexy tone- catching you off guard but for a split second, quickly you screw your head back. You are married! 

“Hi, who is this?”

-“Who is this?” 

You release a snort, “You called me.”

-“Wait…” The deep voice pauses, “…What number is this?” 

You shake your head with a playful tone, “Dude are you high?”

-“I don’t know…” The man chuckles, “…Maybe.”

“Well~.” You say with a little sass. “I think you have the wrong number sir.”

-“Mm, do I?”

“Don’t worry, it happens. Take care.” You pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. ‘His voice was so hot.’ You let out a little laugh as you put your phone down and return to your earlier adventures. As soon as you took one step your phone rang again. You sigh as you see…

Unknown 

Picking up the phone you answer it with a drawled out, “Hellllo?”

-“I’m sorry sweetheart, I guess I dialed the wrong number…”

You roll your eyes putting your hand on your hip. “Sooo~ why did you dial it again?”

-“I just… wanted to apologize.”

“Okay, well I forgive you bye now-“

-“Wait wait-“ The man spoke almost urgently making you pause your thumb on the end call. “-Don’t hang up…”

You try not to smile too much, this guy just had this tone that had your heart stutter. You should hang up. You have a husband after all, but you were curious why he was trying to talk to you. So you humor yourself a little, and ask…

“Why?”

-“I want to talk to you for a second… you gotta cute voice.” Just by the play of his tone, you could tell he was smirking. 

You bite your lip but shake your head, looking at the Diamond ring that caught the light. “They have numbers for that, sorry I have to go now.” You quickly hang up not allowing him to sway you with his tempting voice. You let out a deep sigh, staring at your phone. You expected it to ring again but it didn’t. 

“Well, that’s that.” You whisper to yourself. 

You decide to have popcorn for your movie snack. Getting the box out you grab a pack and toss the empty container in the trash. Opening the microwave you stick the snack inside and shut it, hitting the popcorn button it buzzed to life. 

Dancing your nails on the counter you wait, looking at nothing in particular as you space out. 

*RING RING* 

You flinch from the unexpected noise breaking your peaceful silence. “Gaaaaah.” You stomp to your phone, and what do you know? It’s unknown again! You skip hello and go straight to. “What?”

The man hisses like he has been hurt, or he was smoking something. 

-“Why don’t you want to talk to me, sweetheart?” He exhales letting you know it was the latter. 

You cross your arms leaning against your counter. “Who is this?” 

-“You tell me your name… and I’ll tell you mine.”

You let out a sharp laugh, “Ha! Not gonna happen.”

There’s a little pause as the man smokes whatever it is he’s puffing on. Within that time your microwave beeps and you pop it open grabbing the buttery bag. Ugh, it’s not even fully done. You frown shaking the bag as you toss it back in and slam the door. Pushing the popcorn button two times for option two.

-“Whacha makin'?”

“Popcorn.” You say pushing start. 

-“Popcorn?” He almost sounded surprised. 

“Yah.”

-“I only eat popcorn at the movies.”

“Well… I’m watching a movie now.”

-“Really? Whatcha watching Barbie?”

“Haha because I’m a girl?” 

He snickers as you follow suit with a little bite of your lip walking around your kitchen. Why you were even entertaining this, you don’t even know but for some reason, you may not mind talking to this man. It’s not like you would do anything with him. He’s some random guy probably from a whole different state. Besides, you’re just talking, there’s no harm in that.

-“So? What are you watching?”

 “Ouija the origin of evil, with the little girls.”

-“Huh, a scary movie?”

“Yup, I like scary movies.” You lean on your counter eyeing the expensive knives your husband loves to buy. 

-“They don’t scare you?”

“Nu-uh.”

-“Ooo… a big girl. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Favorite? Hmm…” You hum playing with the biggest knife. “I liked… Split, i know it's not technically a scary movie but it was a cool thriller. James McAvoy killed that role."

-“Ah the guy with the multiple personalities?”

“Yeah, that one…what’s yours?”

-“Mm~ Guess.”

“Uuuum~.” You lick your lips, squinting your eyes as you try to imagine what a guy like this would like. You pop up excitedly shoving the knife back in place, “Strangers!” 

-“Ah~ I see what you did there.”

You chuckle a bit hearing his pleased tone at your little joke. “Hey that movie was kind of freaky, especially that part where it’s like ‘why are you doing this to us ’ and they say-“

-“Because you were home.”

“YES! Aaah! That’s sooo creepy!”

-“Haha yeah I like that movie it was scary…”

“Yeah, the first one but the rest weren’t as great.” You move around your house swaying as you walk, a playful bounce in your step. Gosh, it was like you were back in high school talking to your crush on the phone. There’s something about his voice that keeps you hooked. 

-"My favorite scary movie is Jeepers Creepers."

"Nooo~" You laugh playfully. "I love that movie too!"

-"Yeah? Sing the tune for me."

"Jeepers~ Creepers~"

-"Where'd ya get those sneakers~"

The two of you duet together as you do a little sway, and once it ends you giggle. "Ah~ I love a good horror movie with spooky tunes."

-"Yeeeah me too. Love that burnt fucker with the knives tune too."

You bite your nail playfulling, dragging it over your lip as you think about what you are doing. The girlie butterflies and everything were fine but... you should end this call, your husband will be home any second now. You opened your lips to say your goodbyes but then he asked-

-“Soooo does an Angel like you got a boyfriend?”

You pause mouth falling open, Angel!? Like you? This man was giving you butterflies without even trying! You let out a girlish giggle, “Whyy~ do you want to ask me out on a date or somethin’?” You pick up some mail busying yourself while talking on the phone. 

-“What if I do…?”

You separate what’s yours, fanning yourself with the magazines. “What if I do?”

-“Do you?”

“No.” 

Technically- you weren’t lying. You had a husband. 

-“Good…good…hey, you never did tell me your name…I would really like to know it.”

You toss the mail into their respectable baskets, as you flirt with Mr. Unknown. “Why do you want to know my name?”

-“Because I want to know who I’m checking out.”

Your eyes blink quickly, and your stomach drops. Did he just- “Wh-what did you say?” Your head swivels around quickly. 

-“I… want to know whose sweet voice this is.”

You feel a cold chill run up your spine as you start walking around locking your doors and windows. “Stop it! Th-that’s not what you said!”

-“What do you think I said?”

You gulp hard peeking out of your window, searching for anyone that shouldn’t be there. All you see are dark woods and grassy land that stretches for miles. 

-“Angel?…Hello?”

You pull your curtains closed shaking your head, you don’t like this anymore. This just turned extra creepy. “I-I gotta go.”

-“What? I thought we were going to go out?”

“No, thank you.”

-“Wait-! don’t you dare hang up on me-“

You were already in motion hanging up the phone as you walked swiftly down your hall checking every corner with panicky orbs. 

*RING RING RING*

The sudden noise makes your chest tight, and seeing UNKNOWN on your screen constricts it even more. Someone has to be playing a joke on you! That’s the only logical thing here, right?

You answer the phone, “Who is this!”

-“I told you not to hang up on me.” The man sounded almost irritated with you but you didn’t care.

“This isn’t funny anymore! I don’t know who is pranking me but I’m over this!”

-“What? No no~ this isn’t a prank sweetheart, I just want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you!” You quickly

hang up marching to the kitchen. 

*Ring Ring*

You grit your teeth picking up the phone, “LISTEN ASSHOLE-“

-“NO YOU LISTEN YOU LITTLE BITCH, YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN AND I’LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH AND EAT YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

You had frozen in fear listening to his sadistic words. Chest rising and falling quickly as you began to freak out. 

-“DO YOU UNDERSTAND!”

He shouted at you again making you flinch. Quickly you uttered a “Yes-“ your voice cracking at the end of it.

- “Yeah…much better.” The unknown man chuckled.

You had to fight back tears as you spoke, “Is…Is this some kind of sick joke…”

-“No… think of it more like a game. Can you handle playing a game with me…pinky?”

You gasped running out into your hall as you duck down low, the only safe place where there was no way anyone could see you. Crawling to your window you peeked out with searching eyes. 

-“Can you see me?”

You swallow harshly, trying to catch your frantic breathing, “You better leave me alone or I’m calling the police!”

-He clicks his tongue, “See you live in the middle of bum fuck nowhere ill be done with you waaaay before they could get here.”

You slide down the side of your wall, holding a shakey hand to your lips, “Wh-what do you want!”

-“To fuck your stupid little brains out.” 

You gasped at the vulgarity pulling the phone away from you as you hung up, tears streaming down your cheeks as you held your knees to your chest trying your best not to panic. 

*DING DONG DING DONG!*

You scream throwing yourself away from the door, crawling down your hall as you quickly get up and clutch your phone to your chest. “Who’s there!” Your voice quivers in terror, but no one answers. “WHO’S THERE!” You shake your head looking at your phone. “I’M CALLING THE POLICE!” 

*RING RING * 

“AH!” You scream fumbling your phone as you quickly answer it. “WHAT!”

-“You should never say ‘whose there’ don’t you watch scary movies- it’s a damn death wish. Your dumbass might as well come out and investigate a straaange noise or something.”

You suck in a heavy breath slowly backing away from your front door. “Look… you had your f-fun now!"

-"Are you crying? You trying to flirt with me or something? That shit turns me on."

" Y-you better leave me alone right now or else!" Your voice was trembling as much as your body was. 

-“Ooor else what?” He taunts. 

“O-or else my husband will be-be here any minute now and he will be pissed!”

-“Aw~ I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?”  

“I have a husband, not a boyfriend! -hiccup- he will be here so you-you BETTER leave!”

-“Suure~ sure…”

You shook your head not liking his condescending tone, “I-I swear! You-hiccup- better be gone! My husband is a fighter and-hiccup- he’s the fucking strongest!”

-“The strongest? Would he beat me in a match~?”

“YES! HE WOULD WIN! HE’D BEAT YOUR ASS!”

-“Oooh~ I’m really shaking in my boots now…” 

You hold your chest with a flat hand, the pain becoming too unbearable. Your words were causing no fear to this cocky bastard, but still you double down. “HE WOULD WIN HE WOULD WIN- SO… s-so-hiccup- you better just leave…!”

-“His name wouldn’t happen to be…Gojo Satoru…would it?”

You inhaled sharply, “H-how do you…how do you know his name…?”

-“Turn on the patio lights…”

You didn’t know what you expected to see and you hoped to the high heavens it wasn’t your husband. And if it was, you hoped that he and his friends would be out there and yell surprise- telling you it was all a prank. Gojo loved pranks. This one was a terrible- terrible- one but you’d forgive him because you’d be so happy that this wasn’t real. You would be relieved. So so-relieved. 

Your shakey hand raises as you walk toward the back sliding doors. Flicking the light on. As soon as you did it illuminated Gojo tied to a chair with blood on his head and tape on his mouth. His blue eyes widen in fear when they meet your own. 

“HM!” His screams were muffled as he tried to wiggle out of the restraints. 

“SATORU!” You cried as you quickly opened the door, but a masked figure came out of nowhere and slammed it shut. 

You seized in shock- face to face with a morphed ghost mask. The man wore an all-black outfit. Tight black t-shirt, black combat pants, black combat boots, and black tactical gloves to finish the look. His muscles were huge- bulging out of his shirt with black tattoos on his arms. Just the sight of him both frightened and compelled you at the same time.

The tip of a very sharp knife tapped the glass shaking you out of whatever spell you were locked in. 

"Hey! Pay attention, sweetheart, I almost lost you there."

"What do you want!" You scream at him.

He shook his head in disbelief. 

"I just told you, what are you deaf? We're going to have a little fun alright? Now turn off the lights and get back on the phone."

Your eyes dart behind him to your beaten-up husband, "Don't hurt hi-"

"TURN OFF THE LIGHTS"

You let out a soft whine as you slide toward the light, fingers shaking as you flick it off. You could no longer see Gojo and the man disappeared into the darkness. Shakily raising the phone to your ear you stare into the abyss of darkness. 

-"Now...as I was saying. Let's make things... interesting. I want to play a game. Some scary movie trivia. If you guess right your husband lives, guess wrong, and... well he dies. Simple right? The first question... I just quoted a movie, what movie is it from?"

You were so zapped, the mental exhaustion taking a toll on you. You heard the man speak but his words lagged in your mind, having a hard time processing everything. Yet you knew he was toying with you, putting Gojo's life in your hands. You sniffled with a painful expression. "I-I don't w-want t-to please-"

-"Aww~ Come on sweetheart you can do it~. I just gave you an easy one. 'I want to play a game'... what movie is that from."

You rub at your eyes, they itched from all your crying, "Uh...It's...it's saw..."

-"Ding ding~ You got it! See that wasn't so hard..."

You felt slight relief but then he said-

-"Last question."

"Noooo!" You groaned in despair, the game was still not over and you didn't think this sick bastard was going to play fair.

-"Alright, who's the killer in Split?"

You jolted up, "Kevin Wendell Crumb! His name is Kevin Wendell Crumb!" 

-"EEEEEH- Wrong!"

"Wait what! Yes! That was his actual name! It's Kevin I've seen the movie a thousand times!"

-"Then you should know the true killer is the beast one of the many split personalities inside Kevin! Say goodbye to your husband!"

He fucking tricked you! 

"NO!" You slapped the light on but you were too late. Gojo had a knife sticking in his stomach as he steadily choked on blood gasping for air. "NOOOOO!" You screamed hitting the glass in frustration.

-"Alright next question."

"I'M NOT PLAYING YOUR STUPID GAMES!"

-"Tch- suit yourself-"

*CRASH*

You screamed as the man crashed into the window like a freight train. Within a flash, you were running, gunning it up your steps. You bust into your room with a gasp throwing yourself on the floor as you slide under your bed. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you heard the heavy boots drum up your steps and plant in your hallway.

 "Oh~" The man drawls, "If you wanted to play hide and seek why didn't you say so? I like this game too..."

 You quickly hang up your phone realizing you are still on the line with the stranger. With your hand suffocating your mouth- trying to trap any sounds from escaping, you shakily unlock your phone.

The man's boots thudded into the room, your eyes widened as you watched them prowl across the floor like a hunting lion. He stopped abruptly, a pair of your pink panties on the floor. "You really like pink doll face." He bent down to pick them up, knees bent as he crouched. You scooted a bit over just in case he looked this way. You heard him inhale deeply- was he smelling your underwear? He let out a pleased sigh, standing up to his full length. "One... two i'm coming for- you!" He kicked in your closet door open the wood cracking loudly with a loud bang.

You quickly began to scroll for your friend's number, she was the closest to you and she and her husband were hunters. Your fingers could barely function as you began to text her. Your nails get in the way or make a loud tapping noise when it thuds on the screen. You grit your teeth wanting to rip them off.

 "Three four you better lock the- door!"

You jolted as he kicked open your bathroom door. Splinters hitting the floor.

*Best Bitch Ever*

Me: Helo helo

Me:Help help

Me:someine is trying to kill me

She had your location, she knew where you were.

"Five six grab your crucifix!"

He was in your bathroom now tearing down your shower curtain. Slowly you started inching toward the door. You froze when he came back into the room singing.

"Seven eight you better stay awake!" he threw off your many pillows, stuffed toys, and blankets. The bed squeaked due to his weight.

You paused in fear, there was only one more spot for him to check. You were practically on the other side of the bed opposite of him. You were getting ready to roll out and run like hell

"Nine ten never sleep...-"

*Ding* Best Bitch Ever Notification!

You froze in horror not realizing your phone was not in silent mode. Everything went still. You didn't dare breathe.

Within the next second, his Ghostface popped down next to you, "There you are ya little bitch!"

A terrifying scream scratched your throat as you crawled to the other side. A gloved hand gripped your ankle as he dragged you out from underneath the bed.

"Never hide under the bad! Another horror 101!" He growled as you screamed kicking your feet wild as your bunny flippers fly off. "Fuck-" He tripped over the pillows, his grip letting up just enough for you to wiggle free and jump up. 

You ran out of the room nearly hitting the wall. Tumbling forward you made a sharp turn to jog down the stairs but in your haste, you tripped on your feet and tumbled the rest of the way. One moment you were fine and the next moment flashed before your eyes and then you were groaning laid out on your back at the bottom of the steps. Your vision was hazy as you rolled your head to look at the dark figure standing at the top of the steps.

His head slowly clocked to the side as he clicked his tongue while tapping his knife against his pants. "Tsk Tsk tsk- carelessly falling down the steps too? My sweet angel, now you're just begging for it." The man began to descend. The sound of his boots dropping heavy with each step had your heart picking up.

A low groan left your lips, your mind trying to come back together as your blurry vision adjusted. Your body aching but begging you to get up. Your double vision adjusted and you were able to slowly get up on your elbows and start to crawl back. "N-no... please-" You beg as he got closer. Your adrenaline rose as you started moving a bit quicker, but not fast enough.

 He was upon you, feet planted on both sides of your frame as you whimpered looking up at this monster of a man. Trembling as you shed more tears begging him over and over again, "Please please please..."

"Aw~" He coos. "Now I know you are flirting with me." He adjusts his hard-on as he lets out a twisted moan. "What would your husband think? Oh wait-"

"Noooohooo ah-!" You cry using your last bit of strength to quickly scurry backward but the man is upon you, dropping his weight on you so he can pin you down.

You scream and thrash and kick and slap and punch and do all you can but the man is an absolute unit. Your fighting doing absolutely nothing to him, but tiring yourself out. 

The man stabs the wood floor right next to your face making you scream in terror. He grabbed your flailing arms and pinned you down by your wrist making you twist and turn, trying to wiggle out. He sat on your hips, your legs kicking wildly behind him. The knife taunting you, right by your very face. You could see your reflection in it as you cried in defeat, settling down. The man was much too strong for you to even do anything. He was sitting on you without breaking a sweat. Watching you with sick fascination. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel it.

"Ya done?" The man chuckled above you.

You say nothing as you pant heavily, staring at the very weapon that just may end your life.

"I asked you a question. Don't you know it's rude to ignore people?"

You gulp down the need to point out the pure hypocrisy of his words. Slowly you nod your head.

"Good." He gives you a light squeeze to your wrist as a warning to his next words, "Now stay still..." He drifts off yanking the knife out of the floor.

You shook your head resuming your fighting, "No no please don't kill me!"

He grabs you by the neck and presses the flat end of the knife against your collarbone. Your head hikes up, afraid to be cut. The message was loud and clear, but he repeated it for you just for clarification.

 "Stay. Still."

You blink up at the black sockets of his mask, hoping he could see your pleading gaze. Hoping it would pull on his heartstrings and he'd show you mercy, but deep down you felt it only truly turned him on more.

He leaned his head as he followed his blade. Guiding it smoothly over your skin. He teased you like a lover would, slipping the tip underneath the thin straps of your skimpy pink gown. 

He jerked his hand-

The sudden movement made you flinch. Your chest quivers as he moves to the other strap to repeat the same movement, but this time you hissed as your flesh stings. A red beading line appears right above your tit.

"Oops..." He breathes, not a hint of remorse in his voice. He leans down, pulling his mask up a bit as he licks at your breast.

"Nh-" You watched his tongue collect the blood greedily. You could see hints of tattoos on his face but then he pulled back adjusting his mask back in place. 

He shifts lifting up as he drags the knife up your thigh. You whimper when you feel it pass by your panties and up further underneath your dress. You suck in your stomach squeezing your eyes shut in fear. The knife glides up in between your breasts, and then he flips it, yanking back as he cuts off your bra and dress. 

You let out a cry as you become exposed. You quickly cover yourself, as the man slides the knife into your panties. He cuts your thigh in the process making you whine.

"Sorry~ Looks like I did it again. Your blood is...soo~ beautiful." He groans swiping his knife through your panties like butter.

You received another cut on your other thigh. "AH-" That one stung. 

You heard a deep growl, as he watched the blood spill a bit. Quickly he pulls back and tosses up your legs by your thighs. With the knife tight in his grip he bends down to again lick at your leg like a dog. He moaned as he switched to your other thigh sucking on the flesh.

You had to hold in a moan, he was so close to your most intimate spot. You could see a bit more of his masculine chin, and something compelled you to reach down and snatch his mask off. You pulled back with a gasp as he looked up at you with red lustful eyes, licking his bloody lips. You couldn't believe how unbelievably handsome he was. Tattoos lined his jawline and even peaked out from his neck. He also had a weird tattoo on his forehead. Pinkish black hair spiked up with an undershave. The devil shouldn't be this beautiful.

 He flashes you a devilish smirk. "Now who told you to do that?" He questions slipping his mask away from you with delicate aggression. "Imma have to punish you for that..." He lifts his knife and licks it. He sounds animalistic- lost in the bloodlust. Excitement sparkles in his eyes as he presses the knife on your stomach, ready to cut.

"Y-You know it's- it's-it's my birthday..." You sniffle weakly.

His head leaned with a questioning cock to it, eyebrows raising. "Is it now?"

You nod slowly, "Mhm..."

"Well? Why didn't you say so sweetheart?" He chuckled sliding the knife in its placeholder around his thigh.

Hope struck you to the core, "A-are you going to let me go?"

He threw his head back in a mocking chuckle, biting the ends of the mask with his teeth as he pulled it back over his head and with one hand. Then he nodded his head. "Sure~... after I fuck your brains out."

You are fueled with frustration and terror as you begin to fight again. He laughs at your futile attempts. You kick off him, flipping over as you quickly try to get up on your feet but he climbs on your back, pushing you down on the ground. You whine and squirm, as he fishes out his cock. You felt him press into your surprisingly wet cunt. Your screams morph into a low moan as he has no trouble bullying his way into you.

"Fuck- are you always this wet angel?" He moans deeply into your ear as he rolls his hips. "Or is it just for me?" 

"Ah-~st-stop!" 

"Stop?" He questions as he does nothing of the sort. "Why would I stop when your pussy is begging for it? don't you hear it?"

You could hear exactly what he was referring to. You were so wet his dick was squelching inside of you, making lewd noises as he thrust in and out.

But you shook your head, "No no! I-It hurts! It hurts!" You were babbling about nonsense too dizzy on his cock to say anything else. 

He already proved his point but he wanted to nail this shit into the coffin. He grabbed your neck from behind, choking you as he pulled you up on your hands. He moved his phone in front of your face, the video recording your very wanton face.

"Look at yourself angel." He chuckled as he bounced you back and forth on his cock. Face maske pressed to your side with his gloved hand around your neck like a choker. "Now you tell me- if this looks like a bitch in pain?"

You looked at yourself with teary eyes, watching this masked man fuck you from behind. Tits swaying as your back arches for more. "N-ah~" You couldn't even speak your words of denial, your mind becoming hazy with it all. Your legs tremble as you feel your body flutter in euphoric flurries.

"Su-" Your vision spots for a split second. Your moans being choked out of you.

"Oh fuck-" The man growled letting you go. You gasped for air as he sat his phone against the wall so you could still watch yourself. Watch as he grabs your hips and abuses your pussy. 

"Fuck-fuck-" He curses as you wail in pleasure, orgasming overcoming you. "That's right bitch-cum on my cock-" 

Your eyes rolled as you came with a shout. The man went into a sort of frenzy. Bucking wildly as he chased his high. 

"Please ah-no! Don't cum in me! Take it out!" You scream in horror.

He let out a loud moan, flinching as he did exactly what you said not to do.

"Nooooh~" You whine feeling his cock twitch inside of you, filling you up with his seed. You drop your sweaty forehead to the ground, panting.

The man went soft inside you, yet he didn't pull out. Keeping you plugged up with his cum. You felt him shift forward, his knife coming around to sit on your neck as you gasped pitifully. "Why-why me?"

He chuckled in your ear, "Because... you were home..."

You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you slowly raised your hands into a triangle shape. "Domain expansion: Safespace~"

Right after you said that both of you laughed.

"Did you like that?" Sukuna pulled off his mask as you looked back at him with loving eyes. 

"I~ Set it up for you, what else were you going to say?"

"Don't be sassy with me."

You giggle as he pulled back, sharing a sweet kiss followed by multiple pecks. Then he was pulling out of you, tucking himself away. Helping you up. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine." You smile as he bends down to scoop you up in one arm.

"I didn't cut you too bad? You used our soft safeword." He questions you earnestly, walking you into the kitchen as he sets you down on the marble counter.

Yes- It's my birthday- was your 'soft' safeword. It was used in a way to not completely take you guys out of role play but to shift whatever was going on. At that moment you were nervous about getting cut more. "I know~ How much you want to carve your name into me Sukuna." You look at him with a playful glint in your eye.

He chuckles, "If you aren't ready for it it's fine baby, I just want to make sure you are okay. I don't want to push you to something you aren't ready for. I mean, I got three cuts off before you called it." He speaks while grabbing the first aid kit and tending to your wounds. 

You twist your lips feeling as though you failed him by using your soft safeword. Guilt tickles your stomach.

"Aye." Sukun taps your chin with two fingers, "What's with the face? That's one more cut from last time?"

You shrug. "I guess... i just feel like i ruined it... ya know?"

He grabs your face between his hands, so you can't look away, "I can do without the cutting, it doesn't matter. I enjoyed this entire night baby. Did you?"

You give him a little laugh, "I mean could you not tell by how wet I was?"

He nodded his head with a sly lick of his lips, "Yeah, you were hella wet. I heard you almost said my name."

"I know! You should've given me your name so I could have said it! Ugh!"

Sukuna gives you an evil laugh knowing just how much you love to say his name during sex. "Thought it be fun if I were nameless." He gives you a quick peck going back to your cuts.

You roll your eyes with a huff, "So mean to me~Also! For the record that fall downstairs was not planned!"

"I know I was waiting for you to say the safeword so I went a bit slower."

"I know~ Thank you~." You throw your arms around his neck as he slots between your legs. "I love you so much~"

"I love you too... happy anniversary."

He circles his arms around you as he leans in to kiss you deeply. 

There was a loud bang separating the two of you.

Soon Shoko ran in holding a shotgun toward the two of you, "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU SICK-"

"Domain expansion safe space."

"Oh." Shoko stands up straight laying her gun on her shoulder. 

The three of you chuckle as Shoko looks around the house, "Damn Sukuna you fucked this place up."

"He busted through the window!" 

Sukuna nods his head, "I always wanted to do that- but I'll fix everything-"

Getou came running in on the other side of the kitchen, "GET AWAY FROM HER-"

"Domain expansion safe space!"

"Oh- you couldn't have texted us before we got here?"

"We like just finished!" Sukuna took off his shirt so you could pull it over your nude body.

Getou sighs dejectedly, "Man I really wanted to shoot you this time."

Sukuna rolls his eyes, "Maybe next time."

The couple wished you guys a happy anniversary one last time before they said their goodbyes, and departed.

Crawling into bed together, you snuggled up next to Sukuna with a satisfied hum, "Just for the record I did know that the beast was the killer in the movie." You pop your lips making your husband chuckle. 

"Sure you did~"

"You know that's my favorite movie-"

"HELLO~ what's the safeword again?! my arms are killing me and I have to piss!"

Both of you pause as you hear a voice from outside.

"Did we leave Gojo tied up?"

"Eh~ Let's leave him out there till the morning."

You heard a sound click as the sprinklers turned on followed by a pitiful scream.

"PINEAPPLE! JUSTIN BEIBER- AH JENNIFER LAWRENCE?! WHAT'S THE DAMN SAFEWORD!?

You sigh as you pick up your phone, "I'll call Shoko."

~~~~~~

[wystericwoes]

What they sound like during it- ft. JJK boys.

“𝔾𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪!”

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕦𝕡

!𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕟𝕖𝕦𝕥𝕣𝕒𝕝 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣!

Vocal:

They won’t hold anything back. You just feel too damn good, and they have no shame. They’ll tell you everything they’re feeling and thinking as they sink into your tight hole and fuck you. He’s absolutely dirty, and not afraid to show it.

“Fuck you feel so good baby…”

“Yeah just like that-“

“I’m ngh close-“

“Cum for me…”

-Gojo, Todo, toji, Mahito

· ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Whimpering:

He won’t talk, but he sure does make noise. You sink onto him slowly as he grips your hips with a deadly grip, the feeling of you consumes him and he just can’t think straight. Try asking him a question and watch him stutter trying to answer while inside you.

“Mmng!”

“F-fuck….”

“Ah…!”

-Inumaki, Yuta, Yuuji, Choso

· ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Tries to hold it in:

He’s not very vocal, but those breathy sighs of his as he bites his lip to hold himself back drive you crazy. You hear him sigh heavily as he inches himself into you with furrowed brows, as he starts to thrust you notice him biting his lip- but that doesn’t hide the moan in the back of his throat and occasional groan. It’s not that he doesn’t want to make noise, he just doesn’t know how. Or maybe he’s feeling a little embarrassed.

“Mmhg…!”

“Hah…. Hah…” he pants as he tries to bite back his own moans,

He whispers under his breath so quiet you wonder if you heard him right.

“What’re you doing to me…”

-Nanami, Megumi, Takuma

· ✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Silent:

It feels great but there’s no need to vocalize it. He’s far more obsessed with the sounds you make rather than anything he can. You worry sometimes that he’s not enjoying yourself until the occasional curse rolls off his tongue. He’s just too focused on fucking you he doesn’t have time to make noise, all he can think about is your tight hole.

“…fuck.”

“Ah shit…”

-Sukuna, Kokishi, Geto, Hiromi

[suqueenaryomen]

Sukuna vs Alucard - Same Aura?

I don't know why, but they have some similarities together.

[gojosattoru]

★ RYOMEN SUKUNA PHONE WALLPAPERS ★ -> requested by anon Hope you like it darling! Thank you for your request! Had loads of fun!! <33333~~ Hope they look good!! Sorry for being so late!

COMMISSIONS/KO-FI AND REQUESTS OPEN!!!

[cultabel]

One day at Akutami Daycare

[carmenlim-rui]

Aww:3

[stasyanarts]

My darlings

[ryomensgf]

𝗪𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗗𝗘𝗔𝗧𝗛 𝗕𝗟𝗢𝗢𝗠𝗦 !

RYOMEN SUKUNA X READER !!

ᯓ sypnosis. in a secluded shrine deep within the forest, you have spent all your life untouched by the outside world, a living paradox—blessed with blood that heals yet cursed with a presence that brings death. Your days are quiet, isolation absolute, until one stormy night when a presence unlike any other darkens her doorstep.

.𖥔 ݁ tags+warn. ryomen sukuna x fem reader, true form ryomen sukuna, concubine!reader, mentions of blood, violence and misogyny, heavy language, reader is powerful, eventual smut, possessive!sukuna, sukuna loves control, toxic jealousy, degradation, angst/fluff, light choking, size difference, time period heian era, goddess!demon, soft reader, more tags will be added later lmao. 2k

ch. 1

Death. 

An eternal shadow, haunting each fleeting moment of life.

It lingers silently, like the wisp of smoke from a dying lantern, trailing behind every step, every breath, every heartbeat. Where cherry blossoms bloom only to scatter, and the moon waxes and wanes in endless cycles.

Death is a whisper carried by the wind. A soft yet unyielding reminder of life's transience. It comes not as an intruder but as a patient guest, waiting at the threshold, unseen but ever-present.

To live is to be acquainted with its inevitability, for even in moments of joy, death stands just beyond the folding screens, watching, waiting, never forgetting its place in the story.

It is neither kind nor cruel—simply constant. 

When a child entered the world, it carried with it the weight of a harrowing prophecy—an existence bound to death. 

A curse, they whispered in hushed tones.

It cannot be human, they murmured. How could death take the form of a child?

The child's mere presence was a blight upon the world, a harbinger of ruin. Anyone who lingered near it found their lifespan drained, as though the very essence of life ebbed away in its shadow. Anything the child touched—be it a flourishing tree or a blooming flower—withered and perished under its cursed hand.

Yet, within the curse lay an extraordinary gift. The child's veins coursed with blood unlike any other—a miraculous elixir that could heal wounds, cure the incurable, and restore hope where it had been lost. This blood, laden with divine potency, held the power to save countless lives, to triumph over even the most devastating of afflictions.

Though the villagers longed to end the childs life, to rid the world of the calamity they believed it to be, they stayed their hands. It was not mercy that saved the child, but the blood in its veins—a lifeline, a miracle. The cursed gift was too precious to destroy.

That child was you.

You, who bore the weight of a curse and the blessing of salvation.

And so, they banished you to a distant shrine, deep within the forest where no human could suffer your touch. There, you lived in solitude, the thick woods a barrier between you and the fragile lives you might endanger.

Servants would come, bringing food and tending to your needs. Yet even their devotion came at a price. Over time, their lifespans would wither like leaves in autumn, and they would die within weeks of entering your presence. No matter how much care they offered, no one stayed for long.

After all, they saw you as a goddess. It was the only explanation that soothed their fear. How could you be a curse if you harbored such a divine blessing? To them, you were both salvation and despair embodied in human form.

And so, as the years passed, you remained alone, revered yet untouchable. Isolation became your world.

You spent your days in an unchanging rhythm, filled with quiet rituals that tethered you to the passing of time. You would rise at dawn, cleanse yourself, and step into the garden for a brief walk, always careful not to touch the living things around you. Five minutes, no more, before retreating indoors.

Once inside, you would take your place at the heart of the shrine, your designated spot. There, ink and paper awaited you, as they always did. Writing became your solace, your companion in the stillness. Page after page, you poured your thoughts, your questions into the void. It was all you had ever known.

Silently, as always, a servant stood far away near the door, their gaze lingering on you with quiet watchfulness. In twenty years of isolation, you had learned that the servants rarely spoke. Their presence was dutiful but distant, their silence as much a part of your life as the shrine’s echoing halls.

For companionship, you turned to the animals and plants surrounding you, though never for long. You knew too well the cost of your presence, and so you kept everything alive at a careful distance, your invisible boundary of safety.

On lonely nights, you filled the void with your own voice. You spoke to yourself, read aloud from books and scrolls, letting their words echo through the shrine. You devoured tales of the outside world—a place you knew you would never see.

Sometimes, you lingered by the door, watching as servants descended the endless stairs carved into the hillside. You never ventured beyond the threshold, yet you imagined how the stairs might stretch into the unknown, vanishing into the life you had been barred from.

Oddly, the loneliness didn’t sting the way it might for others. It was all you had ever known, and so it settled over you like a familiar shroud. The silence was not cruel—it simply was.

But once a month, a familiar ritual broke the monotony of your days—a monk, dressed in robes of deep crimson, would arrive to collect your sacred blood. Each visit brought a new face, for the previous monk's life had been shortened by the weight of your energy.

Without words, you would extend your hand, a silent understanding between you and the monk. With careful precision, they would cut into your wrist, and your blood, thick with its divine blessing would drip steadily into their glass bottles. 

When the task was done, they would kneel before you, bowing low, and recite the same words each time: a reverent greeting to the goddess of death and life.

Though you lived in solitude, they ensured you were kept healthy and content. The shrine was always stocked with fine gifts, books, and every necessity you could need. Yet no gift, no comfort, could fill the hollow left by a life of distance.

Thunder rumbles in the distance, a deep, resonant growl that shakes the stillness of the shrine. Rain falls in heavy sheets, drumming against the roof and pooling in the garden beyond. A haori rests loosely over your shoulders as you hurry to the shoji door, drawn by the storm’s symphony.

Sliding the door open, you pause, letting the view settle in your mind. The garden, shrouded in mist and rain, looks ethereal. Raindrops cling to the leaves like tiny jewels, and a lone bird hops closer, its chirping defying the downpour.

“Lovely morning,” you murmur, your voice a soft contrast to the storm. With a final glance, you turn on your heel and make your way to your usual spot.

Arranging your tools—a collection of brushes, inkstones, and paints—you place the canvas to your left. The open door allows the sound of rain to seep into the room, its rhythmic patter a calming backdrop.

With a delicate hand, you dip the brush into the ink. Turning your head briefly toward the open door, you take in the garden’s beauty once more before letting your brush glide across the canvas. Lines and strokes take form, capturing the fleeting serenity of this stormy morning.

Rainstorms are a rare gift where you live, their fleeting presence a break from the monotony. Today, you’re determined to make the most of it.

At first, your brush glides gracefully across the canvas, each stroke deliberate. But as the rhythm of the rain seeps into your soul, your restraint slips away. Abandoning the brush, you plunge your fingers into the paint, smearing and blending with unrestrained fervor. Ink and blue paint streak across your hands, dripping down your forearms and splattering your attire in chaotic beauty.

“Whistle,” you say, your voice bubbling with satisfaction. It’s a word you’ve grown fond of, slipping from your lips whenever joy or excitement fills your heart. Lately, it’s become a staple in your solitude, a small, silly comfort.

The storm intensifies as time passes, the thunder crashing louder, more violent, like the sky itself is unraveling. The wind howls through the shrine, forcing its way in through the gaps, knocking over your painting tools, sending them tumbling to the floor with a clatter. The wind’s icy fingers brush against your skin, tugging at the strands of your long, vibrant hair, now streaked with ink and paint.

The servant, standing in the corner, takes a hesitant step forward, her gaze flickering toward the open door.

"I shall close the doors," she murmurs.

But you shake your head, a serene smile curling at your lips. “No need.” Your voice is calm, almost as if you’ve come to an understanding with the tempest itself. “The wind is trying to tell me something.”

The servant hesitates, unsure of what you mean, but she remains silent. You turn your attention back to the howling wind, your senses attuned to the unseen whispers it carries. Something stirs deep within the storm—something that calls to you, like a distant echo from a world beyond the shrine.

A heavy presence descends upon the shrine, one so dense and oppressive that it presses against your chest, suffocating the very air around you. The feeling is unlike anything you've experienced before—an overwhelming force, potent enough to crush anyone in its path, even you.

Your gaze shifts instinctively toward the main doors, eyes narrowing, as you wait, silent and still, your senses acutely alert. The servant in the corner, unaware of the shift in the atmosphere, continues to stare down at the floor, her posture humble and patient.

You swallow, the knot in your throat thickening. This is no monk. This is no servant, and certainly no curse of the kind you are accustomed to—small, fleeting, easily dealt with.

The curses that linger near you are always cautious, knowing well the danger of your power. But this... this is different. The weight of it is unmistakable.

It’s powerful, far beyond what you've encountered. Your instincts scream that whatever stands on the other side of those doors is not only dangerous, but knows you as well.

The air feels thinner with each passing moment, your breaths shallow as anticipation grips you. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, your heart races—not from fear, but from exhilaration. “Whistle,” you whisper under your breath.

Then, it happens. A shadow looms behind the doors, its presence so immense it eclipses the storm itself. The servant, who had been so still and composed moments ago, crumples to her knees. Her wide, terrified eyes dart toward the entrance, her trembling form betraying that she knows—she knows exactly who or what has arrived.

You lean forward, every fiber of your being taut with anticipation. The waiting stretches on, almost unbearable. What has come for you? What does this being want?

And then, with a deliberate, deafening pang, the shoji doors slide open.

Your breath catches as you take in the sight before you. Towering in the doorway stands a monstrous figure—man, curse, beast—you cannot tell. His entire form is drenched in blood, but it is not his own; the metallic tang in the air tells you that it is human.

Four eyes lock onto yours, unblinking and predatory. His lips curl into a cold, menacing smile, baring sharp canines that glint even in the dim light. The storm rages on behind him, a fitting backdrop to his terrifying, otherworldly presence.

And yet, even as dread prickles at the edges of your mind, you find yourself captivated, unable to look away. His gaze holds you prisoner, intense and unyielding. He wears a white hakama, pristine despite the blood that stains him, and a black haori draped loosely over his broad shoulders, concealing the other two arms tucked beneath its folds.

Your eyes flick to his hair—an unusual shade of pink, striking and unnatural, further solidifying the impossibility of his presence.

He steps forward, his movements deliberate, a predator toying with its prey. His tongue darts out, running across his sharp canines as if savoring the taste of something unseen.

And then, you notice it—a second figure standing just behind him, much smaller, its form resembling that of a monk. 

“Death.” the man says at last, the word slow and deliberate, as though tasting it, testing its weight upon his tongue. His voice carries a dark resonance, low and commanding, each syllable vibrating in the still air.

Your servant trembled, her hands pressed to the floor as if in prayer, her head bowed so low you couldn’t see her face. Whatever fear you felt was buried beneath the growing curiosity clawing at your chest. Who was this man—this creature—that dared to step into your sanctuary?

“Do you not fear me?” he asked, his voice a velvet drawl, rich with amusement and danger, each word threading its way into the charged silence. 

Perhaps he had noticed the absence of trembling hands, the lack of a bowed head pleading for mercy. It was a sight he was accustomed to—groveling, desperation, the raw stench of terror. Yet here you stood, unyielding, your gaze steady despite the overwhelming force of his presence.

“I do not know you.” you respond.

A low chuckle escaped his lips, dark and resonant, a sound that seemed to ripple through the very walls of the shrine. “Ah, but does one need to know the storm to fear its wrath?” 

He stepped closer, the hem of his hakama brushing against the floor like a whisper of approaching calamity. “Tell me,” he continued, his four eyes gleaming with cruel delight, “when the flower bends beneath the wind, does it do so out of respect or survival?”

His smile widened, baring his teeth, and there was no mistaking it now: the curve of his lips carried no warmth, no kindness. Even a fool would have recognized the malice that danced in his expression.

With a slow, almost languid movement, he crouched before you, bringing himself to your level, his haori parting slightly to reveal the monstrous strength concealed within. His head tilted, and amusement flickered in his eyes, though it was far from innocent.

“And let us see, Goddess of Death,” he began, his voice dipping into something dangerously soft, “whether you bloom for me.....

"Or break.”

[y6smeen]

Sukuna

[burfbannd0g]

jingle bells

[hyeahjujutsu]

[sadistic-kiss]

Double Date~ Toji x Reader x Sukuna

Anime: Jujutsu Kaisen

Characters: Toji Fushiguro and Ryoumen Sukuna (X Fem Reader)

Universe: AU

Rating: Explicit (all da goods)

Genre: Smutty

Kinks: BDSM, Spanking, Breeding and Dacryphilla 

Ingredients/Commission given by: Yorus @yorusranddie

Cover work also done by @yorusranddie ✨❤️✨

Summary: You were supposed to set up a double date for Toji Fushiguro and Sukuna Ryoumen with your mom and aunt so how did YOU end up in bed with them?

✨✨✨✨✨

You hummed to the tune playing from the car speakers, Billie Eilish Lunch singing from your lips. Your head was propped up on your hand as you sank into the back seats of the red and black sports car. Your thumb moves up and down on your phone scrolling through pictures of your friends and silly memes.

“I can eat that girl for lunch… dances on my tongue...” The words were a second thought while you double-tapped your screen liking a video. 

Within the next moment, the radio was turned down.

“So you like eating pussy huh?” 

Your eyes rolled up to the rearview mirror where Sukuna’s red ones looked at you. 

You put a lot of sass in your words as you say, “That’s not a very family-friendly question unc.”

You could see how his eyes narrowed at you, hating when you called him ‘unc’ or ‘uncle’. He was your best friend's uncle but not yours. You just like to tease him. Hear the way he gripped the steering wheel. Get under his skin. It was a fun pastime. 

“What did I say about calling me that?”

“Well if you date my aunt doesn’t that make you my uncle anyway?”

“That-“

“Watch the road Sukuna.” Yuuji elbowed his uncle from the passenger seat. The car swiveled a bit as Sukuna snatched the wheel back. 

“I got this kid.” The older man scoffed, his ego wounded twice within the same minute. 

You let out a teasing giggle, returning to your phone. That’s when a notification pops up on your screen.

Mom: Sorry sweetie but-

You couldn't see the rest of the message before it disappeared, but your stomach sunk from what you had already seen from the preview. You quickly got to your messages to see the full text from your mom.

Mom: Sorry sweetie but your aunt and I had decided to cancel. We just don't think we are ready for another commitment. Please apologize to Mr. Fushiguro and Ryoumen.

“Fuck-“

“What?”

“N-nothing…” you quickly texted back- what does she mean they aren't coming! This is so last minute! 

Me: Mom you have been divorced for like three years! And Auntie said she needed someone to get over her last relationship.

Mom: I think we are just going to have a little girl's night. You know love ourselves! You’re welcome to come over too if you want. 

You puffed your cheeks in annoyance. What the hell were you going to say to freaking Sukuna and Toji?! Just as you looked up the car rolled to a stop, parking in front of Mr. Fushiguro’s house.

Yuuji hopped out to get into the back seat and as he slid in next to you, you pointed at your phone, showing him the message. He mouthed the words as he read, head leaned to the side a bit while he slowly buckled his seat belt in. 

“Yikes.” He hissed under his breath. 

“Tell me about it…” 

“What are we talking about back there?” Sukuna questioned with a raised brow.

“Uh…” you opened your mouth but your words were interrupted as the front and back doors opened.

“Heyo .” Yuuji greeted Megumi as he slid into the seat.

“Sup.” Megumi salutes and wave.

Toji plopped in the front, you can see Sukuna sizing him up. Once Toji got situated he looked toward the tatted man. 

“Toji.” He introduced himself while reaching over to shake his hand. 

“Sukuna.” The two clapped hands with a firm shake. 

You could see their veins bulge as if they were trying to break each other's hands. Their eye contact was firm and well. Like a predator meeting another predator- taunting each other. Trying to show who is the king of the jungle. 

Yuuji coughed as he leaned forward with his phone, pointing to the address of the club. “Nobara said this place was pretty good for the price.”

You blanked at Yuuji, did he not read what your mom sent? The party was over! Well… maybe it didn’t have to be. You can pretend you've never seen it…

The interruption from Yuuji broke up the big dick contest.

Sukuna typed in the address while Toji greeted you, “Hey, you look nice.” He complimented. 

You gave him an appreciative smile, “Thank you, sir. You look nice as well.”

You could see the little glare sent your way from Sukuna in the rearview mirror but it seemed only you noticed. You knew he was pissed that you just called Toji sir while you called him unc. L-o- fucking-l. You laugh on the inside keeping your eyes on Toji.

“I hope your mother thinks so too, did you send her the address?”

“I- yup. I sure did.”

After Sukuna got the GPS started he took off on the road. Yuuji and Megumi were the main ones talking… well… it was more Yuuji talking and Megumi responding with his usual bored tone. 

The entire ride there you were planning how you were going to tell the two men in front. Staged it in your head. Played out the scene. You were going to put on your best acting performance. 

Sukuna pulled up to the colorful lighted club with a giant sign that read ‘Special Grade’ and as you were getting out you let out a little gasp while looking at your phone. Everyone looked toward you expectantly. 

“Ah~ sorry guys my mom and aunt are staying in tonight.” You smacked your lips giving everyone an apologetic look.

“Seriously?” Sukuna deadpanned.

“Yeah… that sucks… well we are already here might as well have fun!” You didn’t get dressed up for nothing. Hopping out of the car you closed the door and walked toward the building. Yuuji and Megumi by your side.

“They haven’t gotten out of the car yet.” Megumi pointed out.

“Eh, they are just in shock, nothing a few drinks can solve- NOBARA!” You squealed running up to your best friend as the two of you hopped up and down in excitement. 

“Oi I’m your boyfriend and you give her more excitement than me!” Yuuji pouted as Nobara rolled her eyes.

“Oh hush~ let’s go have some fun… uh where’s your family I thought they were coming?”

“My family decided to ditch us.”

“My dad’s in the car with Sukuna, probably contemplating life.”

“Pfft, in the wise words of Shoko everything can be solved with alcohol.”

“That’s what I said!”

“That is a terrible motto to go by.”

You laughed as the four of you walked toward the entrance. With a glance back you saw Toji and Sukuna finally getting out of the car. You felt a little bad for them but with their looks, they could pick up any girl. What was one little rejection going to do to them?

~

Okay, they were pissing you off. And by they you meant Toji and Sukuna. The two men had gotten a booth together, taking shots in their little corner. 

You’ve seen plenty of girls try to talk to them but they turned everyone away! 

Were they going to sit there all night knocking shot after shot like some sad teenage boys?!

You were dancing on the light-up floor, red sequin dress swishing side to side, catching the colorful rays of light flashing. Alcohol filled your blood while you groove to the music, but you kept glaring at Sukuna and Toji. Body on autopilot while your mind was reeling. 

“You okay?” Nobara questioned as she shimmied and swayed around with Yuuji. 

“Yeah!” You nodded your head and gave her a thumb up just in case she didn’t hear you over the music. "I'm going to go check on our sad boys!" Breaking away from the group you beelined to the table in the corner.

They were talking but once they saw you coming the conversation stopped, the two of them gave you their attention as you planted yourself before their table.

"Are you guys kidding?" You questioned with your gaze bouncing between the two.

"What?" Sukuna screamed over the loud music.

You leaned upon the table with your hands on top, getting closer to them. So close that you could smell the alcohol upon their lips mingle in the air.

"I said...are you guys kidding!?"

Toji raised a brow, "What's wrong sweetheart?"

"You two! You guys are just sitting here drinking alone, you don't want to like dance or have fun?" You question hooking your thumb behind you.

Sukuna snorted, "I don't want to dance with someone unworthy of my time."

"Besides..." Toji began with a little grin, "Whoever said we aren't having fun?"

You release a sharp laugh, "Ha! What you two BFF's now?"

"Well..." Toji drawled with a sneaky tone, "...It would appear we got a lot more in common than we thought."

It may have been the alcohol but as the two looked at you with a little snicker you had figured the joke was about them both being rejected. 

Little did you know...

"Listen..." You began with a little sigh. "I'm sorry my aunt and mom ditched you guys, I don't know what is going on with them but I hope you guys can still have fun. Let me get you a shot at least."

"On your paycheck?" Sukuna teased.

"So then you know how serious I am!"

"Nah...I'll get it but you'll take one with us." He got up gesturing for you to sit down.

"Deal." You grinned as you slid into the spot Sukuna was in, the seat warm. 

As you waited for Sukuna to come back with your drinks you looked toward Toji. You were going to say something but something about him caught you off guard. He was ruggedly handsome. The club lights flashed across his face and danced in his green eyes. His scar only adds to his appearance… you wanted to trace your finger over it. Never had you viewed him in such a way. He was your friend's dad after all and you tried to set him up with your mom. Not that they really knew much about each other but it was just kind of like a… ‘why not?’. See if they kick it off kind of thing. 

Megumi was tired of the man being lazy and broke, living off of his divorce money and his wife’s life insurance. You all thought…what if a woman could whip him into shape? 

Toji caught you staring at him but you were too slow to act as if you weren’t. 

“You stare anymore and ya gonna make me blush sweetheart.” He flashed you a grin that shouldn’t have caused your stomach to stir. 

“My bad, I was just looking at your scar.” You lie with ease. “How’d you get it?”

“Ah, this?” He rubbed the back of his fingers upon it. “Got into it with my old man when I was young. We never really saw eye to eye.“

Megumi had told you that they were not close to the Zenin family. Apparently, his grandpa was a narcissistic control freak. “That’s a horrible thing to do to a kid…I’m glad you don’t associate with them anymore and that you didn’t follow in the abuse train.”

Toji seemed pleased with your response, “Yeah…dude was a coward. I’m not a great dad but I don’t think I’m too bad.”

“Well, you lost your wife, so being a single parent for your child and your bitchy ex-wife is… ya know kinda crazy. And come on…” you grin while elbowing him, “… I wouldn’t have set up this date with my mom if I didn’t think you were a good man. You just need some… help.”

“Help huh?”

“Like~” you pop your lips, “A woman’s touch or something. Tsumiki is grown and Megumi is off to college so it’s like you are stuck. Don’t take it the wrong way or anything but you and my mom got this whole I will never love again vibe going on. I think that’s horse shit-oop! Haha, my bad. I guess I usually don’t talk so freely with you.”

“Quite the sailor aren’t you?”

You let out a little laugh as the two of you enjoyed the moment. That’s when Sukuna came back with a bottle and three shot glasses. He squeezed into the booth with you in the middle, setting down the cups.

“Fucking line took forever.” Sukuna cursed filling up the shot glasses.

“See? I get it from my unc.” You joked making Toji chuckle.

Sukuna looked at both of you in confusion, “Get what from me?”

“Cursing.” You smiled grabbing your shot. 

“The fuck you do.” The three of you clinked glasses and tapped the table before knocking back the burning liquid. Sukuna let out a frat boy kind of grunt while slamming the glass down so hard you are surprised it didn’t break. “That mouth of yours was always filthy.” He looked toward you with such an expression it gave you whiplash. “Someone atta spank your ass.”

This whole thing was always a game of chicken. Teasing and flirting with each other has just been your way since what feels like the beginning. It was harmless fun. He always talked about spanking you anytime he deemed you being naughty. So you didn’t think twice as you set your gaze, looking up at Sukuna from under your thick fake lashes. 

“What? Are you going to spank me?” 

Something flashed within his eyes before he settled you with a devilish grin, he leaned closer to you but you didn’t back down. You were never one to back down. Always ready for a challenge especially when it came to Sukuna. 

He licked his lips, red gaze bouncing between your eyes and somewhere lower. He then whispered, “You would like that…wouldn’t you?”

Woah- 

Something about this felt like it was outside of the playing field. It caught you off guard. What was even more terrifying was the tiny voice in your head that said ‘yes’. Perhaps tomorrow you will blame your stubbornness on the alcohol.

You cocked your head, getting a breath away from him, “You- would like that.”

He didn’t back down, his grin only widening, “We- would like that.”

You blanked falling backward as you disengaged from your game. You look toward Toji who was watching with intense interest. His gaze locked on to you. You had forgotten he was here. Feeling embarrassed that he witnessed such a thing. Yet the way he was staring at you had your body heating up. 

Like he enjoyed watching 

Suddenly this moment felt strange. You felt naked. Exposed. Like you were in danger… but a delicious kind of danger. 

Sukuna had said ‘we’.

“What’s…going on here?” You questioned with a suspicious glare.

Toji cleared his throat as he leaned in closer to you, “Remember…when I said we both had something in common?”

You nodded slowly.

“It’s you.”

“Me?” You asked in shock.

“Yes, you.”

“No- no way! You two were supposed to be dating my mom and aunt may I remind you!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “I only said yes so you’d stop nagging me.”

Toji shrugged seemingly agreeing with the statement. “In other words, it was a good thing they canceled. Made us realize after talking we should tell you the truth.”

Your brain was unable to keep up. You felt frozen as they told you their secret. You could not believe this was happening. 

You let out a gasp as you felt someone caressing your thigh gently. Looking down you watched as Sukuna smoothed his hand up and down, creating a path of warmth that set fire to other places. Toji’s hand began to play with your hair. You were mesmerized by their touch and voices. 

“What do you say…” Toji’s words tickled one ear as Sukuna did the other. “…can you handle both of us brat?”

“…”

~

You moaned in Toji’s lap, tongues slipping against each other in a lewd slop. Your dress rode up over your ass, his hands wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him. 

You felt another hand glide over your cheek, fingers slipping to your cunt. Sukuna growled from the driver's seat, trying to get the three of you home as quickly as possible. “You ain’t wearing underwear?”

Toji chuckled breaking apart from your lips, “I told you she wasn’t.”

“How did you know?” You giggle grinding yourself on top of his clothed length. 

“Because you are a naughty little vixen.” Toji slapped your ass harshly making you squeak.

“Wearing this skimpy ass outfit with no underwear.” Sukuna also gave you a harsh slap making you gasp. “Slut is just begging for it.”

Your phone had dinged, having fallen onto the floor between Toji’s feet. The screen was a text from Nobara saying she hoped you feel better. 

You had made an excuse that you felt sick and Sukuna was going to take you home. Toji had said he was tired and too old to hang with the youngins and the three of you left. Megumi and Yuuji decide to catch a ride with Nobara. 

You guys kept it cool until you were in the elevator. As soon as the doors closed that’s when the lustful dance began. The two of them take turns kissing you and pressing you up against the wall. And it didn’t end from there. You could barely get into the car, Toji pulling you into the front seat with him while telling Sukuna to drive safely. 

You couldn’t get enough.

Your thirst unable to be quenched. 

Sukuna pulled into his garage as you and Toji continued making out. You were too distracted from your session to see that you were finally at your destination. The passenger door was ripped open as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair.

“Hey!” You gasped as he pulled you out of the car, “I hope you are paying for me to get my hair done!”

“Yeah yeah I ruin it I’ll fix it.” Sukuna gave you a lustful kiss, moaning against your lips. 

“I guess the dress is on me huh?” Toji chuckled getting out of the car. 

You had already heard a tear from your dress, one of your earrings was missing and your heels had a little scruff to it. You made sure to let the men know that they would be replacing anything from their rough handling of you. 

Not that you minded. 

The door was slammed shut behind you as you were practically carried inside. You were in the foyer kissing Sukuna while Toji slipped your heels off. The three of you nearly tripped over each other to get into the bedroom. 

Sukuna unzipped your dress with dexterous fingers, pushing the fabric down. He slapped your tit making it bounce, glaring at you while he nipped your lip, “No bra either. Who let you out like this?”

“I’m a grown woman unc.” You teased. You giggled at the way he glared at you. 

You were spun around swiftly and then pushed against Toji as he snapped at him. 

“Hold her.”

You heard the rustling of a belt as Toji circled his arms around your waist. 

“What are you…” you looked back just as Sukuna yanked your wrist behind you, tying your wrist with the leather belt. You hissed at the slight discomfort. 

“Give me your belt.”

Toji shifted around as he took his belt off with one hand handing it to Sukuna. You looked at the exchange with wide eyes. Watching Sukuna fold the belt.

“Wait!”

*SMACK*

“Ai!” You jerked against Toji as the leather snapped against your ass like a swift viper. 

Sukuna grabbed a handful of your ass, shaking it as he hissed into your ear. “I don’t want to hear you ever call me unc again!” 

*SMACK*!

“Ow! Sukuna!” You were now trying to get away, the harsh slap of the belt had your cheeks ringing in pain. 

“Yeah, that’s more like it! You either call me Sukuna or sir, do you understand?” He hit your ass again as you screamed out.

“Yes! Yes!” You cried feeling your eyes water. You didn’t think he was that upset when you called him unc! It was just a prank damn!

“What was that?!” Sukuna growled. 

*SMACK*

“YESSSIR!” You cried, that last hit rocking the tears from your eyes. They trailed down your cheeks.

“Aw, she’s crying…” Toji grabbed your chin as he lifted your face. “Such a sweet face.” 

You thought he felt bad for you but it seemed to be the opposite. He liked to see your tears. 

“Let me see.” Sukuna pulled your head back, his phone in your face. 

Your eyes widened in surprise as the flash went off. 

“That’s fucking hot…” Sukuna groaned pulling the phone away as he licked at your tears. You didn’t have time to say anything about the picture as Toji licked at your other cheek, hand trailing down as he cupped your sore ass. 

You gasp, “Y-you guys are sick.” You glare at them as they only chuckle. 

“Another thing we have in common princess.” Toji grinned pushing you onto the bed. 

You gasped flopping on the bed, your leg was then grabbed as Toji stuck two fingers inside you. 

“Ah~!” You let out a gasp, pussy clinging around his fingers as if it had been dying for this. 

“Yet you are so wet…Who’s more sick, it seems you are getting off on this little masochist?”

Sukuna fisted himself out of his pants, grabbing your chin tightly, “You will be crying and wetting our cocks like the little slut you are.”

Toji used his other hand to pull his pants just underneath his length, a fiery gleam in his eyes as he smirked, “And we know you will enjoy it.”

You were shocked to hear Toji agree with such things- Sukuna yes this matched his character but never would you have known Toji to be a closeted sadist. 

Did you fuck up?

Who were you kidding? 

You let out a moan as the two men shoved their cocks inside you. Toji in your pussy while Sukuna took your mouth. 

Gentle? Never heard of her.

You were taken with wild abandonment. And true to their words you shed more tears and gushed upon their lengths. All while they laughed and taunted you with sinister words. Sukuna even dragged his fingers over your tears and wiped them on his cock before entering your cumdumped pussy. They didn’t even ask if they could cum in you- they just did. 

How was it possible that they could keep going? 

At one point you finally began to beg for them to release your wrists. But they wouldn’t. Like they didn’t want you to try to run away.

They used your body for their pleasure, saying dirty things like how they always wanted to do this to you. Bringing up times when you wore clothes that left nothing to the imagination. Their favorite was the red shorts that cupped your cheeks. They’d talk about masturbating to the thought of you and the pictures they snuck. 

You bet this is what they were talking about while sitting in the corner sharing drinks. Sharing their explicit thoughts and pictures of you. 

They are actually crazy. 

Yet you were still cumming and leaking like a broken faucet. You actually had no shame. No thought. Especially as you bounced up and down Sukuna’s length while sucking on Toji’s cock with greed. 

Your eye just so happens to catch the clock on the dresser as you gasp pulling back, “oh crap-“

Sukuna slapped your ass as he leaned back with his hands behind his head, “Keep bouncing.” 

“M-my birth control- I need to go take it!” You usually take it before bed but you must not have heard your alarm since your phone was in the car. 

That seemed to pause them.

“You what?” Toji questioned.

“I was supposed to take it at eight, I forgot. I was too drunk…maybe I can get a plan b tomorrow… or today seeing as it’s fucking 2 am.��

Sukuna snorted, grabbing your hips tightly, “Not a chance.” He then picked you up and dropped you making you scream. “I’m gonna fuck a baby in you now.”

“Fuck off we didn’t discuss this.” Toji growled while getting behind you. He pushed you down so you could press into Sukuna’s chest and then you felt something poke at your pussy right alongside Sukuna’s cock. 

You gasp, “No! I can’t-“

Toji and Sukuna lifted you up as they both tried to cram their cocks inside your cunt. You released a scream as one cock left and another entered, back and forth back and forth. You were stretched unbelievably- the intensity had you sweating and drooling. You were losing your mind. Their vigor turned into something more insatiable. You were lucky they didn’t try to jam both cocks inside you at the same time- you don’t think you’d be able to stretch that much. This already was too much. 

You couldn’t stop moaning and crying, begging for something. Perhaps mercy. But they didn’t know the differences, and neither did you. 

“Please-! Please-! Ah- please!”

“You want-mm- my cum baby?”

“No, -Ngh- she wants mine. Say it- ah- say you want it.”

You were drowning in it all so you did as you were told screaming, “Yes! Yes, I want it-i-I want your cum!” But you never clarify who’s. That was their own personal problem. 

“Fuck-yes baby keep begging for it-“

“I’m going to give it to you- you better take it- “

The two groaned as they came inside you again for the -who knows how many times tonight- but this time it seemed like they gave you the fattest load. The thought of you carrying their child was something that truly kicked off their lust. Your orgasm had you seeing stars and soon you felt as though you blacked out. 

You felt them finally untie your hands but your arms just hung with exhaustion. You were laid in the middle of the bed, letting out a light groan. Body exhausted. You had finally hit your limit. 

“Crazy…” you mumbled. “Crazy…” 

“You bring it out of us.”

Sukuna and Toji shared a laugh as they leaned back in bed cuddling with you, fine with lying in all of the mess and sweat. Filthy men they were. But you doubt that you were far from them. Because you more than enjoyed yourself tonight. And now you will expect to be spoiled like this from now on. 

Although you wonder if they were joking about the whole pregnancy thing…were they really trying to get you pregnant?

That was a problem for sober you. 

✨✨✨✨✨