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#sukuna mafia boss
risuola · 2 days
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V — SILENT PROMISE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN
Sukuna thought he won't bend, but the sight of you made him question himself.
cw: blood, usage of weapon, reader discretion is advised — 1,5k words
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You were wet, your breath was heaving and your heartbeat rumbling in your head.
You were trembling.
Bleeding.
The red iron stung your eye, made your hair stuck to your temple and cheekbone. Pain pulsated, spreading its waves around your skull, focusing right where the wound was somewhere underneath the strands of your wet hair — a mark left by the grip of a gun that hit your head hard.
You coughed.
Yet another splash of ice-cold water hit you in the face and you weren’t ready. Again. Your clothes were soaked, sticking to your body in a harsh cocoon of fabric. Your light-blue t-shirt translucent against your skin, stained with blood that dripped from your face. You felt exposed, cold. It was humiliating, having all four of the men around you look and snort at every shiver that run down your spine. They seemed amused, they were amused to torture you.
Someone grabbed your hair, pulling the wet locks violently and forcing you to look up, to tilt your head back. Something sharp touched your neck, poking and prodding at your delicate flesh on the side of your throat.
“I don’t know anything,” you whimpered, before the question was asked once more. What do you know about Sukuna Ryomen? You heard that already twenty times and each of them was a little lower, a little more cruel, a little more violent.
Fact is, you couldn’t even recall how you got into the dimly lit room lined with cold concrete and furnished with steel. One moment you were heading home with a bag of snacks and the most gorgeous, most red strawberries you found in the store and in the next, you were here — tied up with the very same strawberry red running down your face.
The ropes were digging into your flesh, partially taking away the circulation and your hands felt numb, tied behind the backrest of a metal chair. You could feel your skin ripping underneath the roughly textured bounds, it stung every time you were yanked around or hit by someone. It wasn’t humane, you didn’t do anything, you shouldn’t be treated like that—
“I’m sure you can tell us something. Sooner, the better, princess.”
—but you were. The men around you were kind enough to explain the situation to you before the terror began. Apologized even, but they didn’t seem sorry when the first pain was inflicted on you. When they screamed and threatened, they didn’t seem sympathetic or regretful. No. It was pleasurable for them, you saw it in their eyes, on their faces. Pathetic joy that they got from torturing someone like you.
You felt the blade press its way into your skin and it stung. A hot drop of, what you only assumed was blood run down the side of your neck and along your collarbone, sinking finally into the ruined fabric of your blouse. The cut was shallow, you could tell as much, but it still sent yet another jolt of fear throughout your body. You felt your heart going wild inside your chest and you held your breath, afraid to move too much when the knife was that close to your throat.
“I really don’t know you fucking asshole!” You groaned the moment he took the weapon away. The stress and fatigue made you lose your temper but you were determined to not cry, no matter how much you wanted to and god knows you wanted to wail.
* * *
“Seeing something familiar?”
Sukuna felt in real time how the blood in his veins was turning into fire. Rage — indescribable and heavy — was taking over his thoughts and his muscles were twitching. His shoulders, up until now relaxed, squared up. His brows furrowed, a crease formed between them and the look of his eyes became cold and dreadful. Menacing.
“How unwise,” he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. The officer in front of him flinched, bending underneath the gruesome, unnerving aura that turned the air in the room into a thick substance, impossible to breathe in. Despite his best effort to hide his nerves, the droplets of sweat gave all away. Sukuna smiled, grinned in a way that’s thirsty, in a way that craves blood and pain. “You’re getting very nervous, detective.”
“Cooperate and all of that will soon be over,” the man said, struggling to hold the gaze of the criminal that’s now leaning towards him, asserting his nightmarish dominance over the situation.
“Oh, it will be over soon, but I doubt you’ll be happy with the results.”
“We predicted you might not be thrilled to see this girl interrogated, and—”
“That is what you call an interrogation? Beating a little girl? It seems like my ways of dealing with people are more humane than the ones of police.”
“Unfortunately, it’s the mean to an end. You are too valuable of a capture, it gave us a green light to use every method possible to get what we want from you and that includes torturing this hardly innocent little girl.”
Sukuna scoffed. Then laughed — the sound of it ominous and loud. His head tilted backwards and he leaned against the backrest. He knew how it worked; he used those very same methods to get what he needed in life. He threatened women, he threatened children but, in his etiquette, violence against those groups was forbidden. Fear, yes, but physical abuse not and he stood by those rules, enforcing them on his pawns. He used those methods because they were effective. Not a single man in love, not a single husband or father, stayed strong for long when a wife or a kid was on the line. They always bent.
Was he now one of those men who bend?
“A mean to an end, huh?”
“It’s either you or her. You can tell us what we want to know and she’ll be safe and sound, with no charges to her name. You can also keep up the stubborn and we’ll see how much she can take. If that doesn’t work, we can also put her to prison and, I assure you, she’ll be very popular over there. Female inmates love to play with newbies.”
Sukuna couldn’t imagine you being in jail. You were too fragile, too sensitive to be incarcerated, you belonged in silk and flowers, not steel and concrete. You deserved to be free and now they threatened to encage you? Very, very unwise.
* * *
“I didn’t cry, you know?”
“You’re one very, very brave kitten, are you not?” Sukuna cooed, holding you tight to his chest and kissing the torn skin around your wrists for the nth time. He’s got you in a cocoon of his own jacket, on the back seat of a black car driven by one of his pawns. You were tired, exhausted, but happy to see him, to feel him.
The praise made you giddy, his menacingly loving tone made your heart bang against your ribs despite there being no danger anymore. You still shivered due to your wet clothes but now it was somehow bearable. Now, with a large, mighty body next to you and callused hands gripping you tightly, the discomfort of wet clothing was just a nuisance. You were smiling, nuzzling into him, craving the touch you’ve been stripped off for way too long. Nearly three whole weeks you spent without seeing Sukuna, neglected of his warmth and once you saw him again, you realized that the constant of danger that followed him has got you hooked.
“I missed you,” you said into the crook of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent of his skin that poked through the metallic hint of blood and plain smell of soap he had to use while in jail. The jacket you had wrapped around your upper body carried his expensive perfume — rich and woody, smoky note of tobacco and vanilla. It was sexy, spicy with a touch of sweetness that you couldn’t get enough of.
“Me too, sweet thing, me too.”
Sukuna exhaled, allowing the tension away from his shoulders. Despite the crime he just committed — another one to his name — he felt at ease, because you were safe. The moment he saw, not more than an hour ago, the fear in your eyes; the moment one of the officers ripped your shirt open and used the knife to snap one of your bra straps, his patience snapped as well. It didn’t take him long to put down the detective that was assigned to him — headbutting him so hard he passed out cold. Once he undid the chains, he was out the door and searching for you, fighting his way through the officer-packed halls until your frame came into sight.
“Ryomen—” you gasped out, once your beautiful eyes landed on him and he could have sworn they glittered in the dim, dirty lights around. There was a cheer in your voice, a melody of joy and relief and at the moment he couldn’t care any less about the violence he was exuding. He needed the men around you down and you out of here. And he’s got you out quickly, carrying you in his arms and towards the car that waited for him.
That’s how he’s got you there, trembling against him but safe. Whilst kissing your wounds, he made silent promises to never let that happen again.
» PART SIX SOON
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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months
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I've been promising this one for awhile.
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Starring: Mafia Boss!Sukuna
My contribution to @chrollohearttags Tales from the Underbelly collab! In which Gojo accidentally kidnaps the wrong girl, and our "heroes" have to decide what to do with her.
Content includes: slow burn smut, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, blood kink if ya squint, and slight indulgence of the writers breeding kink.
Trigger warnings include: Kidnapping, gun violence, gore, a dog attack, an attempt at assault and the use of the word "ravenette" once as a dare. Reader discretion is advised.
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Your mom had warned you about meeting strange men online. You had assumed at the time it was just her weird boomer-esque tendencies, a fear born before the time of tinder. But as you breathed in your own breath from inside this itchy burlap sack, sitting tied up in this not-at-all comfortable chair, you started to think maaaybe she was on to something. 
It wasn’t your fault though, truly it wasn’t. This guy was hot. Like, unbelievably hot. So hot it was stupid. So hot he belonged on the cover of french magazines or in summer blockbuster movies that sell tickets not for the plot- but for the eye candy. Who wouldn’t risk life and limb to get a piece of that? You wondered if Satoru Gojo was his real name, just in case you needed to make a police report. You wondered if you’d get that far.
Okay, Y/n, no no, don’t think like that. That will get you killed. Calm down and assess the situation. What did you last remember? Your date. You met him at a bar, and was genuinely shocked when he matched his profile picture. You made idle chit chat, and your drink came. Did you order that drink? You couldn’t remember now. You did remember it tasting salty for a screwdriver though…
Shit, that guy definitely drugged you. Why?! It made no sense, you probably would have fucked him if he had just asked nicely! Hell, even if he had asked rudely, there was no need for this! You silenced your thoughts as you heard movement. A door opened and the sound of boots on concrete echoed through a far too big to be practical room. And then, a familiar voice.
“No dude, I got her!” That was definitely Gojo, the fuck ass. “It was so easy too.” He was laughing, because of course he was.
“Yea, that’s the problem. Excuse me for being suspicious, but this feels way too easy considering how long we’ve been chasing this woman,” another, much smoother voice said. Oh god, what the fuck had you gotten yourself into now? Why the fuck did weird shit always have to happen to you? It was like you were the main character in some fucked up wattpad, or Tumblr, fanfiction.
“Nah dude, it’s the real deal. Toji doesn’t keep his girl as wrapped up as we’ve been led to believe.” Gojo’s far-too-joyful-for-your-taste voice came again. It was much closer this time. Your body tensed as you realized the two of them were right next to you. “I matched with her on fucking tinder dude! All according to plan!”
“We’ll see about that.” Smoothie voice said. As he did, the bag was ripped off your head, and quite honestly you were too shocked to scream. You took the situation in front of you in with wide panicked eyes. There was your shitty date, looking far too proud of himself considering all he did was kidnap a helpless girl. And another man, crouched in front of your metal chair, taking in your features. Was this just a gang of people that was so attractive it was unfair? He ran a hand though his long dark hair, and knitted his perfectly sculpted eyebrows together as he looked at you. Then shook his head and stood up.
“You really did it now, idiot, that’s the wrong girl!” The ravenette snapped at your former tinder match. Satoru just blinked in disbelief.
“What?” He asked, and Oh boy, your brain started working again! Just in time for you to start screaming at the top of your lungs as the truly horrifying nature of your situation settled into your bones. This startled the men, causing them both to scream, and the dark haired one to even stumble away from you. 
“That was such a late reaction!!” Gojo yelled at you as he finally found words again.
“FUCK YOU SATORU GOJO, WHEN YOU KILL ME, I SWEAR I’M GOING TO HAUNT YOUR ASS!” You screamed at him, deciding if you were gonna die here you might as well fling a few threats around. 
“You used your real name for the honeytrap?!” The unnamed man hissed, punching Gojo in the shoulder.
“Hey!” Gojo yelped, “I thought it was her! I didn’t think it was gonna matter! What are we going to do Suguru?!” Oh, so Suguru was his name. Good to know.
“Don’t say my name!” Suguru snapped. Too late, you knew it already. “The boss is not going to be happy, you know this, right?”
“Well I mean, I-” Gojo started, before you cut in.
“Can I at least know why you guys are gonna kill me before it happens?” You asked. You wanted to know what to avoid for your next life. Gojo had the audacity to scoff at you.
“Wow, I was literally talking and you interrupted me,” He scoffed, “Rude much?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more considerate of the man who drugged and kidnapped me next time I open my mouth! As if that wasn’t rude as hell!” You hissed.
“Get married later, we have other problems!” Suguru demanded, snapping in front of Satoru to get his attention. “The boss is going to be here any minute, and we have the wrong girl!”
“Why don’t we just kill her?” Gojo asked. And look at that, you were screaming again. They both screamed with you, Suguru screaming over you and adding a “CAN WE PLEASE ALL STOP SCREAMING?!” at the end. 
And you did, because technically he had done nothing to wrong you, and you had no beef with him. Satoru shut up when you did. “Thank you!” He snapped, closing his eyes and rubbing his temples to try and fight off the migraine that was forming. “No, Gojo, we can’t just kill her! She’s an innocent, it goes against the code. You and I both know The Boss would have you castrated if you break the code.” Suguru reminded the man next to him. Oh, that was good news.
“So, I’m not gonna die?” You asked.
“You’re not gonna die.” “Nothing is off the table yet.” The men spoke in unison, glaring at each other as they finished their sentences.
“Sooooooo, you’re gonna let me go?!” You asked, beaming with a forced excitement, hoping it would rub off on them and they’d untie you then and there.
“It’s not that easy.” Suguru sighed, “If we let you go now, you’d definitely go to the cops, and you know at least his full name.” He said, glaring at Satoru once again.
“What if I promise not to go to the cops?” You asked.
“You and I both know that won’t work.” He looked almost sympathetic to your plight.
“What if I pinky swear not to go?” You asked. His sympathy vanished.
“In another life, you two are perfect for each other.” He scoffed to Gojo. Mere seconds after he said that, the door behind you opened again. Both men turned their full attention to the footsteps approaching, both looking terrified- though Gojo more than Suguru. You tried to look behind you, but alas, you were not an owl and could not turn your head 360 degrees around. 
“What did you two idiots fuck up now?” A low, gravely voice asked behind you. 
“What?!” Gojo tried to look offended, “Boss, I’m hurt! Why would you assume we fucked up?” he pouted. Suguru just dropped his head into his hands.
“Because it’s you Satoru, and when I came in here, you both looked at me like I was the cops and you had a corpse.” The voice scoffed, “And that never bodes well. Is that the girl?”
“So, you see, about that-” Suguru started, only to be cut off by a new man shoving his face in yours. The club of people that won the genetic lottery grew, and you hated to admit he was the sexiest member yet. Sharp features made more pronounced by a faceful of tattoos that absolutely shouldn't have been as attractive as they were. Hard eyes seemed to glow an unnatural red in the dim light of this garage(?) and his fluffy pink hair seemed both horrifically misplaced on his head, and perfectly matched all at the same time. Suddenly, you weren’t worried about your future. You were wondering what choices you had to make to sit on that perfectly sculpted face.
WAIT FOCUS Y/N, YOU’VE BEEN KIDNAPPED! You flinched away from him, tensing up because well…that’s what people do in these situations, right? You saw a tic form in his perfect jaw, and he stood up. You got a good look at what he was wearing. Fitted slacks with a dress shirt, a well tailored vest on top making him ooze with expense. The others were dressed nice too, but he somehow managed to outshine them all. Maybe its because his sleeves were rolled up, showing off his tattooed wrists and gorgeous forearms. God truly did have favorites.
“You.” He demanded more than asked, turning to Gojo and pointing at him.
“Yes Sukuna?” Gojo asked, and Suguru couldn’t hold back the groan that ripped from his throat.
“Stop using names you fucking idiot.” Suguru hissed. So his name was Sukuna.
“Gojo come here.” Sukuna said again, instantly shutting up both men. Gojos eyes grew even wider with fear.
“I, um…I’d rather not boss, I-...You’re gonna hurt me.” Gojo gulped.
“I’m not gonna hurt you.” Sukuna assured him, and for a second he sounded so sincere and comforting, even you believed him. 
“D-...Do you promise?” Gojo asked, trepidation still flooding his voice.
“I promise, I’m not going to hurt you.” Sukuna said again. Slowly, like a wild animal learning to trust, Satrou crept over to his boss. It was then you noticed Sukuna’s rings. You noticed them, because the moment Satoru was in bitch slapping range, he got bitch slapped with the ring hand, so hard that if Suguru hadn’t been there to catch him, he would have hit the floor. 
“You said you weren’t gonna hurt me!” Gojo yelped. Suguru shook his head, unable to believe his friend fell for that.
“I lied!” The pink haired man snapped, “How’s it feel to be lied to Satoru?! Do you like it?! I know I sure fucking don’t.” He hissed as he slapped him again, “You said you had Toji’s wife! That’s not Toji’s fucking wife you imbecile!”
“Ha, take that asshat, that’s what you get!” You laughed, taking maybe a little bit too much joy in Satoru’s pain. And suddenly, all three men were staring at you. You shrunk a bit at the realization. “My bad, I shouldn’t have spoke,” You muttered, “I’ll let y'all get back to it.”
Sukuna took a long deep breath to try and reregulate himself before turning back to you. “Hi.” He said, giving a smile that you think was meant to be welcoming, but his naturally sharp canines just made it menacing. “Who are you?” He asked.
“I don’t know if it’s safe to tell you my name…” You muttered softly.
“You’re already tied up under my house babe, little late to be shy now.” He pointed out. Fair enough.
“Y/n Y/l/n.” You said. He nodded and gave a small wave. 
"Hi Y/n. So what all do you kn-"
"Wait, what's your name?" You asked, cutting off a clearly powerful man. “Is Sukuna like, a title, or?” He stopped mid sentence and blinked at you, bringing his hands together in a death grip so he didn’t punch the disrespect out of your mouth. 
“Sorry, you threw me off. I’m not used to being interrupted.” He said through gritted teeth.
“That’s a common problem for her!” Gojo accused from Suguru’s arms, pointing for emphasis. This quickly got him dropped. Sukuna glared at him.
“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll stop talking.” He threatened Gojo before turning back to you. “My name’s not important right now. What is important is finding out just how much you know. So start talking doll.” He said, going into his back pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes. 
“So, before I answer, am I more likely or less likely to go home based on how much I know?” You asked, “Cause I’d like to go home in one piece.” The pink haired man laughed at your words as he lit his smoke. Well, laughed is a strong word. More like he aggressively blew air out of his nose, like when you see a funny meme. 
“That’s cute Dollface,” He muttered, blowing the smoke out of his lungs, “Answer my question.”
“You answer mine first.”
“No, I won’t.” 
“Come on dude, I only want you to answer one question-”
“You only want one question answered?” It did suck to be interrupted, “Fine, I’m Sukuna. Now what do you know about us?” You were confused at first, until you realized he was answering one question you asked. Just not the question you wanted answered. Well shit.
“I know his name is Satoru Gojo, his is Suguru, you’re Sukuna, and you guys are looking for some guy named Toji’s wife. Oh, and Gojo takes dick pics with a ring light.” Sukuna closed his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows at that last part, riding out the cringe wave.
“Dude, you don’t really do that, do you?” Suguru whispered to the man next to him.
“Good lighting makes the picture Suguru.” Gojo whispered back. 
“We didn’t need to know that.” Sukuna said, opening his eyes again.
“You asked what I knew.” You said, shrugging as best as you could considering you were tied up. 
“What are we going to do Boss?” Suguru asked, getting the team back on track. Sukuna took a long drag off his cigarette, trying to find an answer to that question. You were innocent, nowhere near the syndicates radar. You were a victim of them, it wasn’t fair to kill you for the crime of matching with a loser on tinder. It also went against what they stood for. At the same time though, they couldn’t just let you leave. You knew all of their names, for Satoru you knew his full name. Not only that, there was the risk of you letting it slip they were looking for Toji’s wife. Though, Toji probably knew that, all things considered. She did have a hit called out on Nanami after all, he’d be stupid not to assume they were looking for her. Fuck.
“Bring her upstairs.” Sukuna finally said, rubbing his temple with his free hand. He wondered why he kept Gojo on the payroll. “She’s our guest until further notice.” Suguru and Satoru shared a knowing glance before going and untying you.
“So you’re letting me go?!” You asked hopefully.
“Not quite,” Sukuna informed you, “Until we can find a more…permanent situation for you, you’re now the property of The Syndicate. Make yourself at home Doll.” He said as he put his cigarette back in his mouth.
“Hold on, what?!” You asked, struggling against Gojo and Suguru as they tried to drag you upstairs, “Wait, property?! Wait, hold on!” You yelped. Suguru rolled his eyes, deciding it was easier to just throw you over his shoulder at this point. “Hey! Put me down!”
“I don’t understand why you’re bitching, I thought you didn’t want to die?” He asked. And suddenly, this was all put into perspective for you. You either play nice, or you take a prolonged dirt nap. Shit. Not great options. You decided death wasn’t what you wanted, they did imply this was only temporary after all. You sighed and accepted your fate, going limp on Suguru’s shoulder. 
The sudden bright lights of the house blinded you after so long in the dim basement. You were happy when Suguru finally put you down, less so when you heard a giant dog barking, and claws scraping on hardwood. You turned around in enough time to see an absolutely massive Rottweiler running at you full speed, teeth bared. You yelped, going to try and hide behind Suguru or hell even Gojo, only to find they had already backed way the hell up; giving the beast room to turn you into dog food. You closed your eyes and tensed your body as you braced for impact.
The impact never came. When you opened your eyes, all you found was a dopey smile sitting politely in front of you, panting while waiting for pets. “Aww,” You smiled, reaching down to give him some ear scratches. His already wagging tail kicked it into high gear as you did, melting your heart. “You’re just a big baby, aren’t you?” You cooed in your baby voice.
Sukuna came up from the stairs then, rolling his eyes at the scene. “Wow Brutus, good job buddy, you’re so good at being a guard dog. No ones gonna break in here, lest they get drooled on.” He scoffed.
“To be fair, Brutus’ slobber is a genuinely terrifying thing.”  Suguru pointed out. 
“It gets everywhere.” Gojo confirmed. 
“I think you guys are just cowards.” You shrugged, petting the good boy on they head.
“They are.” Sukuna confirmed, also giving Brutus a solid pat for good measure. He turned to you then. “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
“My room?” You questioned. 
“That’s what I said,” His voice had an edge to it, like he was losing his patience with every second that passed. He turned to Gojo and Suguru. “Gojo, you know where she lives right?”
“Yea, I do.” He nodded. You did not like what that implied, considering you hadn’t given him your address. But, you were already kidnapped, so, maybe it was a little late to worry.
“Good. Take Geto and go grab her essentials. Clothes, toothbrush-”
“Oh, my switch!” You added. Sukuna glared at you from the corners of his eyes. “What?” You asked, “Someone’s gotta take care of my animal crossing island!” Sukuna closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Her switch, I fucking guess, and bring it back here.” He said, “Don’t fuck it up.” He wasn’t sure how they would fuck it up to be fair, but they had surprised him before. 
“Got it Boss!” Satoru said, saluting Sukuna before grabbing Suguru and heading for the door.
“Oh, and Gojo?” Sukuna called right before they reached the door. Gojo froze.
“Yea Boss?”
“We’re not done here. See me when you get back.” His voice was dark. Nothing he said was threatening, but if that was true then why were the hairs on the back of your neck standing up? And why did Gojo physically cringe, as if future him was giving him a taste of pain yet to come? 
“Understood Boss.” He said, leaving with Suguru. And with that, you were alone with a mob boss. Sukuna turned to you, blatantly eyeing you up. You suddenly felt shy under his gaze.
“Come on, your room is upstairs.” He said, moving past you to an opulent staircase on the opposite wall of the living room. You followed him, not really sure what else to do. 
“You know, you’re surprisingly calm about all of this.” Sukuna said as the two of you climbed the stairs, “Not gonna lie, I kinda expected you to like…argue with me about all of this.”
“Do you want me to argue with you?” You asked.
“No, not really. I’m just curious about why you’re not.” He explained.
“Rent’s expensive,” You shrugged, “I was like, a week away from eviction.” You admitted, looking down to try and hide your shame. It wasn’t like you had done anything wrong either. You had done everything right, followed all the money tips you could, given up iced coffee. Turns out, rent is substantially more expensive than iced coffee and when your job doesn't pay a living wage, well- living is hard. “Honestly, I kinda need a place to crash.”
“Oh, I see. Well, lucky you then.” He chuckled softly as you reached the top of the staircase. You didn’t know if you’d call yourself lucky, but, you’d take what you could get. “Here, this one’s yours.” Sukuna said, opening a door to the right. You walked into an extravagant red room, a giant bed covered in black silk with a tall canopy sat as the center piece with a black wardrobe off to the side. 
“Is this like, your sex room?” You asked, your mouth moving faster than your brain. He gave a short snappy ‘HA!’ at your joke, shaking his head softly.
“Yeah, you wish.” He accused, and yeah he was right. You kinda did wish. “This is just the guest room.”
“So…Do I live with you now?” You asked as you moved to sit on the bed. A reasonable question. Sukuna leaned against the doorway, moving his head back and fourth in the universal motion of ‘I have no fucking idea, give me a sec while I think of what to say.’
“Eh, “live” is a strong word.” He finally said with a shrug. “You’re just here until we can come up with a better solution.” He explained. You nodded, accepting that you weren’t going to get a straight answer- because he didn’t have one to give. 
“Well that’s exciting.” You mumbled, trying to rub the tired out of your eyes. It had been a long day.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure we’ll figure out what to do with you in a few days.” He tried to comfort you, before finally leaving you alone.
🚬🚬🚬
A few days had quickly turned into a few weeks. You had acclimated to your new life well, learning when to ask questions and when not to. Brutus had become your best friend, and Sukuna your odd roommate who left at weird times in the night. You were more comfortable with your situation than you were willing to admit. Turns out, you weren’t above all those other Y N girlies that immediately got stockholm syndrome after a day of kidnapping.
Still, that didn’t mean you felt particularly safe. The moment you started to, something happened. The very next time you saw Gojo after he left to grab your things, his arm was in a cast. You would hear screaming- or worse begging- from the basement. An already hushed conversation would fall completely silent as you came down the stairs. There was always something to remind you that you were not here of your own free will. 
“Ummm…Shota?” You asked from your spot on the couch, watching him put on his jacket.
“Nope.” 
“Hmmm…Akira?” Your relationship with Sukuna was an odd one. The two of you had grown comfortable with each others presence, enough that you would find yourself casually hanging out with him, or in this case, pestering him as you tried to guess his first name.
“Wrong again.” He said, checking the jacket to make sure his cigarettes were in one of the pockets. They weren’t.
“Yuji?”
“Gross no- Do I look like a Yuji to you?” That one seemed to genuinely offend him a bit. You had to be getting close.
“Yagi?”
“Y/n, why does it matter to you so much that you know my first name?” He asked, grabbing his smokes from the end table next to the couch. He made eye contact with you when he did it, and you felt your stomach flutter. That was another thing that was quickly developing. It seemed like every day it took less and less from him to make you flustered. 
“Cause you know mine!” You said, pressing your thighs together to push back your less than holy thoughts. “It only seems fair that I should know yours too.”
“I’m not interested in what’s fair Doll, you should know that.” He said, grabbing his keys off the hook by the door. You hated when he called you Doll, mostly because of how much you loved  it when he called you Doll. It always stirred something in you that you tried to suppress, something you knew would make an already not ideal situation worse. Admitting you had feelings for Sukuna felt akin to a death sentence right now, especially considering the very real likelihood that they were one sided.
“If you weren’t interested in what’s fair, you would have killed me by now!” You pointed out.
“Don’t forget to feed Brutus, I’ll be home late.” He completely ignored your very valid point. You huffed as you watched him walk out of the door. Bastard. Asshole. Tyrant, even! In the space between where your true feelings were-and what you were willing to admit to feeling- resentment grew. He had ripped you from the life you had built before, and cultivated this caricature of intimacy that he fully expected you to participate in; all while refusing to give you information as basic as his first name. It wasn’t just unfair, at times it felt cruel.
A soft whine from the nearby kitchen brought you back to reality. You smiled softly at the gentle giant waiting for dinner. “You hungry buddy?” You asked, laughing at his happy woof as you got up to fill his bowl. 
You went about your nightly routine as you normally did, minus dinner with Sukuna, ending the night curled up on the couch in your pajamas with Brutus, reading one of the many books that littered the mansion. You couldn’t focus on the words though, your mind finding the ticking of the clock much more interesting. Something was off. You looked up to see that it was already 5 AM. Sukuna was prone to coming home late, but never this late. Something was wrong. 
You weren’t sure what to do here. You were captive here, it’s not like you had access to a phone. Even if you did, who would you call? You knew Nanami was his most reliable comrade, but if Sukuna was in trouble there was a 70% chance Nanami was too. Suguru? Maybe, but- you shook your head as you realized none of this mattered when you had zero way of contacting any of these men. You could try and go look for him yourself, but you knew the door was locked. It needed a code to be opened, a code you didn’t have. Brutus whined from beside you, feeding off your nervous energy. Your fingers felt numb as you mindlessly chewed your nails, failing to think of anything other than where Sukuna was at that moment.
“Where are you Suka-” It was like you summoned him, before you could even finish your sentence the door exploded open and he came tumbling inside. You thought having him come home would be a relief, but the blood covering his side washed away any possible relief that could have come from his return.
“Motherfucker-” Was all he could get out before collapsing against the wall next to the door.
“Sukuna!” You yelled, rushing to his side, “Sukuna, holy shit, what happened?!” You demanded, wrapping his arm around your shoulders while you tried to lead him to the couch. You thought it would have been harder, moving a wall of muscle that much bigger than you any amount. But it turns out, adrenaline really is one hell of a drug!
“I got shot, what’s it look like happened?!” He snapped, hissing through his teeth as you placed him on the couch. Suddenly, you understood why everything in this house was red. He almost disappeared into the scarlet couch, the red consuming him, threatening to take him away. “Brutus! First Aid!” He yelled, before groaning in pain. Somewhere along the way, he lost his jacket, making it a lot easier for you to rip off his bloodied dress shirt. 
Oh man, that was bad. You weren’t even queasy around blood, but there was a lot here. Before you could get too much in your head and lose your dinner, you felt a fuzzy head nudge into your leg. You looked down to see Brutus looking up at you, first aid kit hanging from his mouth. He was officially the smartest dumb dog you had ever met. 
“Oh, Good boy Brutus!” You praised, scratching the sides of his face and his floppy ears.
“Y/n, losing blood kinda fast over here!” Sukuna reminded, quickly snapping you back into the severity of the moment.
“Right, sorry!” You yelped, opening the kit. Of course Sukuna wouldn’t have a normal first aid kit. This was one of the most extensive kits you’d seen. You pulled the latex gloves over your hands before straddling his lap, trying to get a better look at him. Three bullet wounds, one logged into his shoulder, one to his side under his rib cage, and one that just grazed his side. You could still see the bullet in the first two.
“Oh jesus..” You muttered, grabbing the long glorified tweezers from the kit, “So, uh, this is gonna hurt.” You said, mouth moving without your mind. 
“Oh, that so?!” He snapped, “I thought it was gonna feel like fucking butterfly kisses!” Oh man, he was starting to look pale.
“Okay, well now I’m not sorry for this.” You muttered, digging the tweezers into his shoulder to get the bullet. He hissed sharply through his teeth, hands finding your hips and grabbing you hard enough to bruise. This was not the scenario you thought of when you imagined Sukuna bruising your hips, but life is often funny that way.
“Okay, that’s one out.” You said as you extracted the metal. He let out a shallow breath, trying hard to regulate his breathing. 
“Fuck Y/n..” He whined, and you felt your chest burn. You wondered if that’s what he would sound like on to-NOPE not the time to think like that! 
“I’m going to get the second one now, okay?” You asked. He nodded, his body tensing against his will in anticipation. This one was deeper. You watched his abs flex as he moaned in pain, biting his lip to concentrate on anything other than the searing pain in his abdomen. This would be a lot easier if he could stop being hot for like, five seconds. “I’m sorry.” You muttered softly, wishing there was anything you could do to help with the pain.
“Don’t- Don’t.” You could tell he wanted to say more, but he just couldn’t. You finally pulled the final bullet out. You pulled the bottle of iodine out of the kit, assuming it was for disinfecting- something he was going to desperately need. You wanted to suggest a hospital, but you knew better. A hospital meant cops, and he couldn’t have that. Especially not right now. So you poured a generous amount of the iodine on his wounds, only for him to scream.
“AAH, WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?!” He yelped as a new wave of pain scorched it’s way through his body.
“I THOUGHT IT WAS A DISINFECTANT!” You yelled in panic, using a piece of gauze to try and wipe it up.
“YEAH, FOR BURNS.”
“THEN WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO USE?!”
“WATER!!” Oh yeah, that checked. The bottle of distilled water in the kit made a lot more sense now. You opened it, using that to clean his wounds instead, and using it to try and wash away some of the dried blood in the process. 
“Shit, I’m sorry! I’m not a nurse, okay!?” You tried to defend yourself in a panic. Then it dawned on you the next step in the process. “I wasn’t very good at home ec either...” You confessed.
“What does that have to do with- Oh god.” He threw his head back on the couch as he realized stitches were next. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths before pulling his head back up, his eyes meeting yours almost instantly. It was like he was searching your very soul for something, though you had no idea what he was trying to find. You wanted to shrink away, but you found yourself trapped by his gaze. 
“I trust you Y/n. Don’t fuck me up.” He finally said. You wondered how he could be so confident in anything while bleeding out on a couch, but you guessed that was a question for some other time. You nodded, grabbing the surgical needle and thread. It couldn’t be that hard, right? In one side and out the other. You had this.
He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth as you made the first sitch, digging his nails into your hips and subconsciously pulling you closer. He flinched at the second stitch, bucking his hips into yours in the process. 
“Hold still!” You chastised him. You really wished all of this was happening under different circumstances. You realized this was probably the closest you had ever been to him. Focus Y/n, focus! You finished his shoulder, before moving on to the one in his side, and finishing with the gash. You were shocked how good your stitches were when you weren’t over thinking it. Not perfect by any means, but far better than you thought. 
“Okay, the worst is over.” You said, pushing his damp hair out of his face gently. He looked at you through his eyelashes, an expression you had no hope of reading on his face. You cleared your throat before grabbing the gauze to bandage him up. He was quiet while you worked. You had almost finished with the bandages when he spoke again.
“Ryomen.” He finally said.
“What?” You asked, confusion leaking into your voice as you finished wrapping up the last wound. You looked at him.
“My name’s Ryomen.” You weren’t sure what you expected him to say after all of this, but it definitely wasn’t that. You stared at him, trying to figure out how to process any of what the fuck just happened. Was this your life now? Was this your forever? He brought a shaky hand to the side of your face, brushing away a tear you didn’t even know was there.
“Why are you cryin’ Doll?” He asked softly. His eyes didn’t have the edge you were so used to in them. Be it from the blood loss or him being grateful for your subpar nursing, all of his edges had been rounded down to soft bumps. 
“I thought I was going to lose you..” You whimpered softly. 
“Oh, Y/n,” He cooed softly, “I’m not going anywhere.” He promised, pressing his forehead to yours. “Don’t cry over me.” He lazily rubbed your cheek with his thumb, trying to comfort you despite the fact he was the one that had just got shot, multiple times. You were sure the blood loss was getting to his head, this was far too intimate. Far too sweet. The stress of the situation hit you all at once, the adrenaline leaving your body as distress took it’s place. 
You took a jagged breath in, realizing you were crying as you did so. He quietly pulled you into a hug, pressing you into his chest. The steady beat of his heart admittedly brought you some comfort, reminding you that he was alive and well-ish. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. When you woke up in your room the next morning, you were convinced it was all a bad dream. Surely he wouldn’t have been able to lug your sleeping body to your room after all of that, right?
The faint blood stains on the couch told a different story.
🚬🚬🚬
If you thought your relationship with Ryomen was weird before, it was really weird now. Before, you were positive you had a one sided crush. Something brought on by proximity and not much else, and a feeling he most definitely did not share. Now though? Now you were sure there was something else there, and that he felt it too. It showed itself in small ways. In the way he brushed against you when you were cooking together, in the way Suguru’s job had gotten significantly harder when Ryomen had noticed how close the two of you had gotten, and in the way he had gotten more protective of you than he had ever been before. 
“Oh Suge Knight totally had 2pac killed.” Suguru said with a shrug.
“No way, that doesn’t make sense!” You argued, “Why would he call a hit on his best selling artist?”
“To take control of his catalog, duh,” He said this as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “More money to be made if you don’t have an artist to pay.”
“Yeah, except now there’s no artist to make more music and therefore more money!” you pointed out, “Besides, why would he have a car he’s in get shot up?”
“So people ask that exact question!” Suguru argued, waving his hands for emphasis.
“Do you two have nothing better to talk about than decades old conspiracy theories?” Ryomen asked as he entered the kitchen, walking up to the bar where you sat with Suguru. He always seemed annoyed when the two of you hung out together. The toxic part of your brain liked it. Satoru wasn’t far behind him, his wrist still in a brace from a months old injury. You felt a little bad when you saw it these days. It must have been a nasty shatter. 
“I’d argue there’s no better topic of conversation than decades old murder conspiracies.” Satoru said, taking a seat next to Suguru. 
“I’d argue you’re the last person I’d consider an authority on topics of conversation.” Nanami said, suddenly alerting you to his presence. That man was like a ghost, you only saw him when he wanted you to. He moved over to the fridge, pulling out a beer and using the counter to open it. A move that would get Satoru or Suguru a one way ticket to the afterlife, completely ignored by Ryomen because Nanami was useful.
“Y/n, I need you to go to your room.” Ryomen said, checking his watch. “Sooner rather than later.”
“What, why?” You asked, not a fan of being kicked out of the kitchen you now considered to be yours. 
“Because I told you to. Don’t come out until I come get you.” His tone left no room for argument or conversation. You bit your tongue, knowing better than to undermine him in front of his men, especially his lieutenants. 
“Whatever.” You groaned as you left, going and locking yourself in your room. As much as it annoyed you, this was fairly common at this point. Whenever the boys had “Official Business” you’d be banished to your bedroom until they deemed it safe for you to be let free. A very clear reminder that you were an outsider here. You weren’t in your room long before there was a knock on your door.
“Already?!” You asked.
“No.” Nanami said, “I’m here to deliver Brutus.” Confused, you went and opened the door. Sure enough, Brutus came barreling into the room as the door opened, going and jumping onto your bed. “Boss wants him to be with you.” Nanami said, as if that was going to answer your puzzled look. 
“Why? What’s going on?” You asked in a hushed tone. Nanami's eyes darted over to the staircase, making sure no one was coming up them.
“A representative of Naoya Zenin is going to be here tonight.” Zenin. You heard that name enough before to know he was one of Ryomen’s rivals, someone previously teamed up with Toji.
“What? Why is he sending someone here?”
“Fushiguru has been shorting him and his team when it comes to their cut of narcotics sales. Considering they’re the ones making all the drugs Toji sells, he’s not happy about it. So he’s looking to start a partnership with us instead.” You were thankful for Nanami. Everyone else here treated you like a delicate flower: like telling you what was going on would make you wilt. Nanami had always kept it straight with you, telling you the facts as they were. To him, you were just as involved as they all were, even if that was only due to your proximity to it all.
“And he’s not showing up himself?” You asked, remembering that Nanami had said a representative of his was coming. He shrugged.
“What can I say? The man’s a coward.” There was a knock on the door after he said that, signaling to him that he needed to get back downstairs. “Stay safe Y/n.” He said, turning to join the others.
“You too.” You responded, but you were pretty sure he didn’t hear it. You sighed as you closed your door, joining the overgrown puppy on your bed. You decided to hop on your switch, needing some way to kill the time. You weren’t sure how long you spent trying to get Moose off your island before you registered that Brutus was whining by your door. 
“What’s wrong big guy?” You asked, putting your switch down. He whined some more, shifting uncomfortably in front of the door. “Oh no, you have to potty, don’t you?” You could have sworn that dog nodded at you. Really?! They didn’t let him out first?! You wondered what to do. You knew disobeying Ryomen wasn’t acceptable, but you couldn’t just let your baby suffer! Another whimper from Brutus made the decision for you. Ryomen would understand.
You opened your door and walked Brutus down the stairs, hoping you could avoid wherever the meeting was happening. You should have known that was delusional, because the moment you walked into the kitchen, you found them all holding their meeting around the bar. Ryomen pinched the bridge of his nose the moment he saw you. Ah fuck.
“Well hello there Gorgeous, who are you?” A man you had never seen before asked. He made your stomach turn. He had his long blue hair parted into three pony tails, and long surgical scars marred his face. That wasn’t what made him so revolting though. It was his smile. It didn’t feel right. Like a monster recreating it’s prey’s mannerisms, a wolf in poorly fitted sheep’s clothing. You wished you stayed in your room.
“It doesn’t matter who she is, you’re not here to talk to her.” Ryomen said, allowing no room for conversation. You followed his lead, going and opening the back door for Brutus without acknowledging the mimic in your home. 
“Oh, don’t be rude Sukuna. Is she your wife?” It asked.
“Doesn’t matter, we’re not here to talk about my personal life.”
“Oh, don’t be like that.” He turned to you, and you wished Brutus would hurry up. “I’m Mahito sweetie. And you are?”
“I think the Boss made it clear, we should get back on topic.” Nanami said, adjusting to put his hand in his suit jacket. The Mahito creature got the hint, raising his hands in his defense.
“Okay, okay, okay. Pardon me for trying to be polite at a business meeting, I won’t do it again.”
“Good.” Ryomen said, lighting a smoke and watching closely as Brutus ran in and took his place by your side. He saw the way Brutus held back a growl. That wasn’t a good sign. “You said Zenin wanted fifty percent? That’s not going to work for us.”
“Oh? And why’s that?”
“Selling is signif-” That was all you heard as you rushed back up stairs. Once in your room, you tried to regulate your heartbeat, to clam your jittering bones. You felt like you had just encountered some old primal evil. Something so off your ancestors were warning you to be weary of it from beyond the grave. You sat next to Brutus on your bed, hiding your face in his fur to try and calm down. 
It worked for a while, until you heard him growl. You looked up to see the monster in your room. You yelped softly, instinctively backing away. You wished you hadn’t forgotten to close your door.
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to scare you.” He said, showing that “smile” again. “I just thought it was a shame we didn’t get to properly meet back there.” Your blood felt slimy in your veins as you realized you were going to have to play nice with this guy. His business was important to Ryomen, or else he wouldn’t be in the house.
“Oh, yea I guess.” You muttered softly, petting Brutus to try and calm him.
“What’s your name sweetheart?” He asked, stepping even further into your room and closing the door behind him. Your joints suddenly felt weak with static, every fiber of your animal brain telling you you were dealing with a predator. 
“Y/n.” You responded, refusing to make eye contact with his mis-matched eyes.
“That’s a pretty name Y/n. You Ryomen’s girl, or his pet?” You didn’t like anything coming out of his mouth.
“I’m um, his roommate.” You guess, and instantly realized you guessed wrong. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with the others?”
“Oh, they’ll be fine without me for a few minutes.” He said, and you realized he was getting closer. You stood up, only to realize he was in between you and the door. 
“Hey, uh, I really think you should go back down, they’re probably looking for-”
“I don’t care.” He scoffed, closing the distance and grabbing you. He tried to force you on the bed, but I guess that dumb ass missed the giant fuck you dog that was in that room for the sole purpose of protecting you. He didn’t get past putting his hands on your shoulders before Brutus’s teeth were in his leg, ripping muscle from bone. The scream that left Mahito was visceral, the kind that haunts people at night.
“RYOMEN!!” You yelled, pressing yourself against the wall while Brutus did his thing, jerking his head, pulling the man away from you as another horrific scream left him.
“I fucking knew it!” Ryomen snapped, ripping your attention away from the bloody scene in front of you and to the four men spilling into your room, Ryomen leading the pack.
“CALL OFF YOUR DOG!” The rag doll begged.
“Brutus, down!” Ryomen ordered. Without hesitation the Rott had let go, and had placed himself between you and your attacker in case he needed to act again.
“Oh thank-” Mahito didn’t get to finish that sentence. 
“He’s mine.” Ryomen growled, grabbing him by his scalp. “You think you can come into my house and attack my girl and get away with it?!” He snapped, taking the lit cigarette from his mouth and putting it out in Mahitos’ right eye. You’re not sure what was going to stick with you more, the smell- or the sound that came out of the monster. Ryomen threw the screaming, bloodied man, to the floor behind him. “Take him to the basement, I’ll be there soon.” He said. Without hesitation all three men acted, grabbing the begging Mahito and dragging him down the stairs.
Ryomen walked over to you, gently taking your head in his hands. “Did he hurt you?”
“No, Brutus protected me.” You hated the quiver in your voice as you said that. Ryomen looked down at the dopey dog, smiling with blood on his muzzle. He gave a small affectionate smile as he pet the dog. 
“Good boy.” He praised before turning back to you. “I’m going to go take care of the trash in the basement, then I’ll be back, okay?”
“I’m so sor-”
“No, you didn’t do anything wrong. He did. I’ll be back.” He assured you, gently patting your cheek before leaving the room you weren’t sure you felt safe in anymore. You weren’t sure how long he was gone for. At least long enough for you to clean up Brutus, and to try and clean up all the gore. At least your carpet was dark gray. You wondered how many other stains it hid, and of what variety.
You weren’t expecting how relieved you were when you finally heard a knock, opening the door to reveal a freshly showered Ryomen. You wondered what he looked like before washing the blood away, but the only image your mind conjured was him bleeding out on the couch. So you stopped wondering.
“Pack a bag, you’re leaving.” He explained. His tone was unreadable, and all it did was piss you off.
“What? What do you mean I’m leaving?!” You demanded.
“I mean wh-”
“No Ryomen, I want an actual fucking explanation.” You saw his jaw clench, as he pinched the bridge of his nose.
“You gotta get better about that interrupting bullshit.” He growled. “Zenin is definitely going to send someone to look for his missing boy. And when he does, he’s not going to find you here. Gojo already reserved you a hotel suite for a week, it’s temporary.” He explained as he walked away. “I’ll be waiting for you in the living room.”
You groaned as you threw together a bag. You understood his reasoning, but you were getting real sick of feeling like nothing in your life was under your control. Like you were at the mercy of a crazed mob boss. Probably because you were. You were starting to wonder if all of this was really worth not having to pay rent.
Ultimately you decided it was. Really, it was no different from existing under capitalism, and at least in this situation you could sometimes reason with your captor. You came downstairs with your bag, took at least ten minuets to say goodbye to Brutus- promising him you’d be back and that he was the best boy- and finally loaded yourself into Ryomen’s too-expensive-for-you-to-be-in car. The drive was silent, tense almost. He chain smoked out of the window, not even bothering to look at you.
“Um, are you mad at me?” You finally had to ask.
“No.” Well that didn’t sound like he wasn’t mad at you.
“You sound mad.” You pointed out.
“Good observation.” He scoffed, throwing his dead cigarette butt out the window, and immediately going to light another. 
“That’s probably not good for your lungs ya know.” His glare could have frozen the sun. “I’m just sayin’!”
“I promise you, I’d be lucky if lung cancer is what kills me.” He “assured” you.
“You promise you’re not mad at me?”
“Y/n.” He growled, “I said I’m not mad at you, didn’t I? Why can’t you just believe me?”
“Cause you sound like, really really ma-”
“That’s because I’m mad at myself, not you!” He snapped, before catching himself with a growl, pinching the bridge of his nose for a second. He took a long drag off his smoke and ashed it out the window, holding the smoke in his lungs until the burn threatened to consume him. “Just. Drop it.” He finally said as the two of you pulled into a hotel parking lot. It was honestly nicer than you were expecting! “We’re here.” He informed you, grabbing your bag as the two of you left the car. 
It was clear Sukuna was known here, considering he didn’t technically check in. He was just given a key as he passed the front desk, and told a room number. You hoped it wasn’t that easy for everyone. He ushered you to the elevator before giving you the spare key he was given. “Room 237.” He said.
“Wait, like The Shining?!” you gasped, looking at him with wide eyes.
“I-I guess?” He very clearly wasn’t expecting that reaction to informing you of your room number. “Sorry, I’m thrown, are you excited or?-”
“I just think it’s neat.” You beamed.
“...Okay.” Sukuna sighed, deciding he had more important things to worry about at the moment than if you liked your room number or not. Once inside the room, he immediately started checking for bugs, both the organic and inorganic kind. An old habit that he saw no need to kill. While he did that, you looked around the suite, familiarizing yourself with the layout.
“Hey, Ryomen? I only see one bed?” You questioned, not finding another place for him to sleep.
“Yeah? Is that a problem?” He asked, joining you in the bedroom.
“Well where are you going to sleep?” You inquired. He was confused again. 
“In my bed? At my house?” Oh hell no he wasn’t!
“What?! No way, you can’t leave me!” You protested, getting real sick of his shit.
“I assure you, I can do whatever I want,” He scoffed, “Someone needs to watch the house.”
“Fuck that, have Nanami do it! What if they find me here?!” You didn’t have Brutus, and you weren’t confident in your ability to hold your own in a fight with experienced criminals.
“No one is going to come for you here Y/n-” He tried to reason, but you were having none of it.
“Are you sure?!” You demanded, “Can you promise me that?! Can you look me in the eye and swear to me that we weren’t followed? That no one’s going to show up here looking for you and hurt me instead? That no one wants revenge for that ragdolls life?! Can you be sure?!” He was quiet. Truth be told, he couldn’t. And he had already fucked up and let you get hurt once, he wasn’t going to do it again. He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a sigh.
“Fine, fine. I’ll call Nanami and have him-”
“I don’t want Nanami here, I want you.” You insisted. Your words hung heavy in the air, both of you trying to hear what was left unsaid in the silence. The tension was growing, begging for someone to say something, anything. Finally, Ryomen sighed again,
“Okay, I’ll stay. Let me go call Nanami so he knows to watch the house.” He said, pulling his phone out of his pocket and stepping out to call his lieutenant. He was gone for longer than you expected. You worried about what was being said, though you didn't know why you were so worried. You just felt anxious. Finally, he came back.
“Alright, everything is settled.” He let you know, “I’m going to sleep on the couch, just…get some sleep okay?” He said, gently cupping your cheek, “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.” He assured you. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and nodded. 
“Okay, thank you.” You sighed, looking up at him. He was closer than you realized. He hadn’t let go of your cheek yet either. Your eyes connected, and for a split second, the whole world seemed to stop. He was close enough you could smell the coffee and cigarette scent that seemed to permanently cling to him. If you focused hard enough, you could feel the heat coming off of him. “Kiss me.” You mentally begged him, “Kiss me, just kiss me!”
“Sleep well Y/n.” He said, patting your face as he left the room. You almost screamed at him to get back here and finish what he started, but realized it probably wouldn’t do much. If he wanted to, he would have. He said it himself, he does whatever he wants. You settled for just screaming into the pillow as you flopped into the overly stuffed mattress instead. This shit sucked. 
Everything felt hot, too hot. You felt like you were caught in an inferno, feeling his hips buck into yours. You felt his warm mouth trail kisses down your neck. You twisted your hands, feeling your wrists flex under his large hand. “You’re so good for me pretty girl.” He praised in your ear.
“Ryomen-” You gasped, saying his name like a prayer.
“Say it again Y/n.”
“Ryomen..”
“Again..”
“Ro-”
“Y/n!” You jumped out of your sleep, yelping softly as Sukuna’s voice jolted you out of the dream realm. You looked around, trying to reorient yourself. You still felt flustered from your dream, and now flustered from embarrassment. 
“Ryomen?” You asked, looking at the man sitting on the side of your bed, him looking at you with concerned eyes in return. “What are you doing in here?”
“You called for me.” He informed you, and you wanted to melt away from the embarrassment. “I thought you we’re having a nightmare, so I woke you up,” He explained, “Are you okay?”
“A nightmare…yeah…” You took the excuse and ran, “Yeah, yeah I’m okay. I don’t even remember what happened in it honestly…” You lied. He sighed and rubbed his face, getting up to leave. “Wait!” You called, grabbing his hand before he could get too far. There goes your stupid body, moving faster than your brain again. “I-...I don’t want to be alone.” You explained. It was technically the truth. 
He looked down at you, quiet for a second, then grumbled. “Whatever. Scoot over.” He muttered. You smiled, happy to make room for him. He slipped himself under the covers, getting comfortable surprisingly quickly for someone in a dress shirt and slacks. For a guy that was surrounded with luxury and creature comforts, he really didn’t seem to need any of them. It didn’t seem like he was very accustomed to them either. He laid on his back, and you couldn’t help but notice how comfortable his chest looked. 
So you moved next to him, resting your head on his chest. He looked down at you, but didn’t push you away. Quite the opposite actually, he wrapped one of his arms around you, holding you close to his side. It woke up the butterflies in your stomach, sending them into overdrive. 
“Thank you.” You whispered to him. 
“For what?” He asked.
“Staying with me. Taking care of me.”
“...Di-..did you just thank me for kidnapping you?” He questioned, looking down at you as best he could and raising an eyebrow. You laughed a little at his reaction.
“I guess I did, yeah.” You giggled, trying to push yourself closer to him.
“You’re welcome?” You never failed to confuse and confound him. Maybe that’s why he liked you so much. You kept him on his toes. “You know most people aren’t okay with being kidnapped, right? It’s considered a bad thing.”
“I’m not most people.” You shrugged. “Like, yeah I see how on paper it’s bad but..I don’t know. It kinda came at the perfect time for me. I got to walk out of my shitty job, I didn’t have to deal with getting evicted, let’s not even get started on how honestly lonely I was..I don’t know. I guess it’s bad for most people, but it was a miracle for me. Is there a word for bad miracle?”
“Your stalkhom syndrome is showing.”
“I don’t think it’s that,” You chuckled, shifting to be able to look up at him, “Have you ever considered I just like being around you?”
“Why would you?” He muttered.
“Why wouldn't I?” You replied. There it was again. That warm feeling that seemed to envelop you wherever you were in Ryomen’s arms, coupled with the feeling that comes right before the lighting strikes. You used the dim moonlight fluttering in from your window to connect your eyes with his. You swore up and down his eyes glowed in low light, the unnatural red that should be so off putting only drawing you deeper into him. 
“You’re beautiful.” He whispered softly, and you felt your chest tighten. He had never said anything like that to you before. It made you feel almost giddy, your heart doing the screaming and squealing your throat wouldn’t currently allow. Before you could respond, his lips were finally on yours and it felt like fireworks were going off in every fiber of your being. You felt your blood rushing in your veins as you moved to tangle your fingers in his hair, months of tension finally snapping in a million electric sparks. 
He bit your lip, using your soft gasp to deepen the kiss. He pulled you closer to him, if that was even possible, growling softly as you tugged at his hair. It was like the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other, trying to make up for months worth of lost time and build up with one impossibly impassioned kiss. He rolled the two of you over so you were under him, and moved to kiss your neck. You moaned softly as he did, feeling the bruises he was biting already starting to form. You loved the idea of it, of obvious evidence you really were his girl. 
You felt your breathing get heavy as he ran his hands up your waist and under your shirt, feeling the soft skin waiting for him there. He pulled away long enough to pull your shirt over your head, leaving you in just your sleep shorts.
 “Fuck.” He whispered when he finally saw you without your top on. He took the time to truly marvel you, the way you imagined a painter would look at his magnum opus. It filled you with a confidence unlike anything else, for someone so beautiful to look at you the way Adonis had looked at Aphrodite. 
“You look so much better than I imagined.” he praised, finally finding his voice again. 
“So you’ve imagined me topless?” You teased.
“I’ve imagined more than just you topless.” He smirked, hands roaming lower on your body. You felt your breath hitch in your chest as he hooked his thumbs under your shorts. You weren’t positive this wasn’t another dream, but either way, you planned to enjoy this. Though, he was wearing far too much clothes for that. Before he could take your bottoms off, you were sitting up, connecting your lips to his again as your fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. You always thought he looked stunning in them, but right now you despised the small buttons. He chuckled a bit, pulling away from you.
“Eager, huh?” he teased, “Here, I got it.” You felt almost embarrassed as he expertly got all the buttons undone and the shirt off in the time it took you to unhook three of them. But- in your defense- he took those shirts off everyday and this was your first time taking anything off him. You bit your lip as you took in his topless form. It looked so much better not covered in blood, you could better see the tattooed skin that laid there. 
And the scars. There were a few etched into his skin, but you were most concerned with three. Your fingers went to touch one of the circular scars, feeling the puckered healed skin on his shoulder. You felt a pang of regret. If you had done better that night, would he have scarred? You didn’t have time to think before you felt his hand on yours, softly pressing your fingers into the healed wound.
“Like it?” He chuckled, “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Why?” You asked, trying not to think about him covered in blood again.
“It makes me think of you.” He said, pulling you into another heated kiss. You felt your body react to him, pressing yourself closer to him and wrapping your arms around his neck. You felt dizzy with want, your entire being buzzing with anticipation as he pressed you back into the mattress, kissing down your jaw, your neck, your torso, until he was where you wanted him the most. You bit your lip in anticipation, feeling him hook his thumbs into your bottoms, waiting for him.
“What do you want Doll?” He asked from in between your legs. 
“You.” You whimpered softly.
“I’m right here,” He reminded you, “What do you want from me?” You whined as you bucked your hips at him. He grabbed them and pressed you into the mattress, making you groan louder.
“I don’t know!” You confessed.
“Babygirl, we haven’t even done anything, you can’t be fucked stupid just yet.” he tsked. 
“I just want you to touch me...” You begged.
“I am touching you.” 
“Ryo!” You whined, wriggling under him.
“Ryo?” He snorted, “That’s cute.” In all the times you had imagined yourself fucking Ryomen Sukuna, you had never imagined he’d be this fucking infuriating. You gave a stranged whine to let him know just how upset you were. “Sorry Doll, I don’t speak whine. You’re gonna have to use your big girl words.”
“Ryomen, please!” You begged, “I- I want..fuck, I want your mouth.” You finally decided, “I want to know what your mouth feels like.” Ryomen’s grin was dark as he finally pulled down your shorts and underwear in one fluid motion.
“Good girl.” he praised, and before you could properly react, he was running his tongue from your entrance to your clit, wrapping his lips around your bundle of nerves and giving it a sharp suck. Excitement exploded in your chest as your hands rushed to his hair, trying to find anything to ground yourself. He growled as you pulled him closer to you. 
Every pass of his tongue sent another wave of euphoria coursing through your core, leaving you soft under him. You brain officially checked out for the night, rolling your hips against his face to chase your high. You moaned his name shamelessly, losing your ability to regulate your volume in the pleasure he was giving you. This volume regulation problem worsened as he pushed two fingers into your weeping cunt, curling up and successfully gracing the sweet spot inside you. Some part of your brain was sure the next room over knew Ryomen’s name now.
And it was driving him crazy. Ryomen couldn’t take his eyes off of you. The way your eyes screwed shut, the way the sweat cascaded down your body, the way his name sounded so fucking pretty falling off your lips. He spent a lot of time fucking his hand to the thought of fucking you with his mouth, among other things, and his imagination couldn’t come close to creating the magic of the real thing. He had to use his free hand to palm himself through his slacks, desperate for any sort of relief. The only thing he wanted more than to fuck you in that moment was to taste you as you came on his face. He needed it more than he needed to breathe.
“R-ryo, I- close..” You whined, your mind struggling to conjugate a proper sentence. That’s what he liked to hear. Your head was full of dopamine and ecstasy, your entire body buzzed with anticipation and need. You felt like you were barreling to the edge of the earth with no hope of stopping. You heard him moan as you pulled his hair again, pulling him closer as you rode his face straight to your climax, feeling the ecstasy explode in your veins. You felt like you were floating in a sea of pleasure, except the sea was in the middle of a tropical storm and every cutting wave that hit you left you weaker than the last. Your vision went white hot, and you were struggling to keep your breath. 
“Fuck, fuck, Ryo! Ryomen! So good Ryo..” You chanted his name like a witch trying to evoke a long dead deity. And he couldn’t get enough of it, eating you out throughout your high as he licked up everything you had to give him and more. He didn’t let up until your legs were trembling around his head. He kissed bruises in your shaking thighs as he pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking at you with dark eyes. Something primal held behind pupils blown wide with lust. He wiped his mouth with a wicked grin. 
“You taste so good Doll,” He praised, slipping his fingers out of your cunt and into your mouth. You started sucking without thinking, grabbing his hand to keep him there as you licked his fingers clean. “Glad you agree.” He chuckled darkly, feeling his dick twitch under his clothes. His entire body felt like it was on fire, and the only thing his mind could focus on was imagining how pretty you’d look trying to take his dick. 
“How ya feeling Dollface?” He asked, leaning back as he undid the button on his pants. 
“So good..” You muttered, your mind slowly finding it’s way back to your body in the sea of endorphins it was swimming in. 
“Yeah?” He chuckled, pulling you under him as he lined himself up with your weeping cunt, “Wanna feel even better?” He asked. Well he was confident, wasn’t he? You nodded, looking up to see what he was working with. You probably should have been more intimidated than you were, but at that moment all you wanted was to make him feel as good as he had made you feel. 
“Yea, I want do.” You confirmed, and he smiled smugly.
“Good girl.” He praised as he slowly sunk into you. You felt like you were being ripped apart in the most beautiful way. Your cunt weeping as it made accommodations for him. Your hands flew to his back, digging into him with enough time to feel him shudder on top of you from just how good you felt. You’d count that as a win. 
“Fuck, it’s like you were made for me pretty girl,” He moaned, dragging himself out just to push back in, gracing your g-spot as he did. You moaned under him as he did, feeling yourself melt into a puddle of need and pleasure. “So fucking good.” He purred. 
He tried to take it easy, to keep in mind that you had just came hard and were probably sensitive. He couldn’t help himself though. The way you pulled him in deeper and deeper with every thrust threw any semblance of sense out of his mind. All he could think about was how good you felt under him, and how fucking pretty every sound that came out of you was. He wanted to hear them all.
You were happy to make them all for him too, moaning pathetically under him with every push of his cock, every brush against your g-spot. You could feel your blood catch fire in your veins as he fucked you, felt yourself getting lost in the pleasure he was giving you. You felt electrified, your nervous system somehow fried and on high alert all at the same time. All you could think of was Ryomen, Ryomen, Ryomen as you felt a string of tensions knotting itself over and over in your stomach.
He pulled you impossibly closer to him, folding you into a mating press as he chased both of your highs. You instantly knew you weren’t going to last long in this new position, and all but screamed his name as you pulled at his hair. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Ryomen!” You yelled as the string inside of you finally snapped, all of the euphoria it was holding back hitting you like a god damn train. You felt your body shake, tendrils of pleasure lashing out from your core to your fingers and toes. It was like a whole body reset, your brain turning into a puddle of electrified endorphins.
He thought he was going to last longer than he ultimately did. But the way your cunt clenched around him coupled with the way your face screwed shut and how needy you sounded as you said his name- he was coming undone inside within a few more strokes, fucking the two of you through both of your climaxes before stilling, just barely managing not to collapse on top of you. 
There was a quiet that settled over the two of you in your after glow as you both caught your breath. You whined as he pulled out, going from feeling so full to so empty and hating it. He just chuckled softly, falling next to you and pulling you into his side.
“So,” You started softly, “Am I still the property of The Syndicate orr?” You asked. He chuckled softly, remembering what he said to you on the night you met. 
“No, not the Syndicate. You’re mine.” He confirmed for you.
“Isn’t that like…kinda the same thing?” You asked. He rolled his eyes. Of course you couldn't let him have his cute moment. 
“Good night Y/n, we’ll talk in the morning.” He mumbled, deciding the best move would be to try and get some sleep. The two of you were going to have a lot to talk about in the morning. 
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gojonanami · 3 months
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hiyaaa!!! I just went through your masterlist and I love your fics ( ´͈ ᵕ `͈ )◞♡ could you possibly think of writing for toji and/or sukuna in the future?? I really love your writing but it's totally fine if you don't want to ♡^▽^♡
hi bb! i'm planning on writing a toji fic based on a request i got!
i wouldn't mind writing for either of them, but i just don't have any ideas for them at the moment. if you have any thoughts or ideas you want to throw at me, feel free :) <3
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toruslvt · 2 months
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Mafia boss Sukuna “accidentally” getting his worse enemy’s daughter pregnant.
expanded here 𖹭
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osaemu · 6 months
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SATORU GOJO: SERIES
streamer!au: SFW/NSFW series.
serial killer!au: NSFW series.
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SATORU GOJO: ONESHOTS
actor!gojo. NSFW. 3.5K.
dilf!gojo. NSFW. 2.6K.
ex-husband!gojo. NSFW. 2.0K.
SUGURU GETO: ONESHOTS
making geto jealous. NSFW. 3.6K.
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SATORU GOJO: DRABBLES
gojo has lipstick all over him (actor!au)
gojo wants you to take a break (student!au)
gojo likes his girls sweet (student!au)
gojo misses you (student!au)
gojo as a new dad
gojo loses to sukuna
gojo thinks you're pregnant
gojo comes home
gojo's covered in bug bites
when you meet gojo's family
–> looking for the streamer!gojo masterlist?
SUGURU GETO: DRABBLES
your relationship ends badly
mafia boss!geto x doctor!reader
when you meet geto's family
TOJI FUSHIGURO: DRABBLES
when you meet toji's family
KENTO NANAMI: DRABBLES
nanami comes home
MEGUMI FUSHIGURO: DRABBLES
when you meet megumi's family
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SATORU GOJO: THIRSTS
can i put you on hold?: NSFW
phone sex: NSFW
gojo x virgin!reader: NSFW
praise kink: NSFW
jealous/angry sex: NSFW
ex-boyfriend!gojo: NSFW
breeding/dumbification: NSFW
skinny dipping: NSFW
semi-public sex: NSFW
SUGURU GETO: THIRSTS
gentle sex: NSFW
phone sex: NSFW
hunger games!au: NSFW
TOJI FUSHIGURO: THIRSTS
phone sex: NSFW
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SATORU GOJO: HEADCANONS
doctor!gojo
being gentle with gojo
ghost!gojo: NSFW
RYOMEN SUKUNA: HEADCANONS
being gentle with sukuna
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animehideout · 5 months
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Jobs JJK Men Would Have In Real Life ( IMO ) Part II.
check part I here.
Toji Fushiguro: Martial Arts Trainer.
• A display of traditional weapons arranged on his walls.
• He carries within himself a quiet confidence, a power.
• He helps people get stronger, to be able to stand for themselves and fight back.
• Ruthless when it's about training especially in combats.
• Very strict mentor.
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Choso: Private Chef.
• His passion for cooking started when he cooks for his brothers. He cherishes family and appreciates it when a family is gathered around the table eating and sharing stories together.
• Enjoys cooking different dishes, adding flavors, seasoning, mixing ingredients..
• Loves to try different international dishes and not limited to local flavours.
• The cooking apron suits him well.
• Loves to prepare very sweet desserts for his younger brother Yuji.
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Gojo Satoru: Actor.
• Money Money Money.
• This man knows he's gorgeous, for that he needs to show it to the whole world.
• He posseses the ability to embody, transform into different personalities/ characters. His blue eyes are canvas of emotions.
• Steals all the light on the red carpet. Literally the center of attention with his strong etheral elegance.
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Ryomen Sukuna: A Mafia Boss.
• This man is a menace.
• Exudes an air of authority, dominance and power wherever he goes.
• Radiates a magnetic charisma that forces others to respect and submit for him.
• Not forgiving at all. Vile, villainous and sadistic,would kill his enemies in a heart beat.
• The most wealthy, respected and intimidating mafia boss in the underworld.
• Strong cigarettes and alcohol scent mixed with perfume.
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Itadori Yuji: Athlete.
• Very fit with a perfect toned body.
• Enjoys healthy food full of protein.
• Follows a strict diet and strict daily schedule.
• Very neat and tidy.
• Determined to win. Has loads of medals hanging in his room.
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lushafterglow · 1 month
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Self destruction is… well -> Series Masterlist
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Paring: Mafia Boss Toji x Lawyer Reader
Summary: Toji was always prepared. For everything. He was prepared if cops came knocking at his door. He was prepared if his little kid — megumi — got sick. He was prepared when that annoying Gojo would drop by to annoy him. He was prepared for any insults his best friend — Sukuna would throw. But he wasn’t prepared for you.
You were a successful businesswoman. Graduated top of your class, and even own your own law firm. You were always onto the next case, never one to look back. Though when you meet a kid kid and his scary looking dad you couldn’t help but keep looking over your shoulder, always feeling like someone was watching.
Tropes: Mafia romance, stalker romance, frenimes to lovers, single dad.
Warnings: stalking, gore, blood, descriptive language of violence, NWSF, drugs, etc. 10 year age gap (reader is 20 he’s 30) (lmk if I missed something.)
Taglist: @queendessi24 @idkdudsworld @venjrnjrbhrr19 @kouyoumarryme (just ask to be added.)
A/N: lowkey inspired by haunting Adeline. Like this has the same vibes.
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Chapters
Chapter one -> “Ever get the feeling of being watched?”
Every morning is the same, wake up, go to the local coffee shop right by your firm, go to your office, work, go home, repeat. Always the same, thought while your one to keep to yourself you just can’t but help the little kid with spiky hair. Only to find the father to too much longer after.
Chapter Two -> in the terms of Joe Goldberg, “Hello You.”
Toji is a very very dangerous man. Many people know this. So when he finds his kids missing, someone is going to pay the piper. Little did Toji know was that that someone was going to become his newest obsession. His lovely desire.
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Playlist Here!
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Drabbles
Drabble #1
Here!
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pinknipszz · 10 days
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can i rq some mafia boss! sukuna hcs pls :3c
mafia au’s r my guilty pleasure! i’ve never written one tho, so this is prob injected with like a million inaccuracies. i still hope u like this!
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mafia boss sukuna who grew up as the runt of the litter in a commission that commits financial schemes, from embezzlement to bribery. later he learned that the commission was only part of a much bigger organization. at the tender age of six, he finally saw the boss, the ruler of the roost. even then, it was only in passing. 
mafia boss sukuna who met him again, this time in person, at eleven-years old. he remembers how he had spoken so eloquently for a man in dirty business, as if he held the mandate of heaven in his palm’s center, but sukuna didn’t think much of it. what struck him most was the little girl, who was not much younger than him, tucked under his robe.
mafia boss sukuna who was sorted to a different commission at nineteen, which put an end to his money laundering days. it was there that sukuna learned how to take charge of smaller tasks, like substance distribution (but never manufacturing; they didn’t trust him enough), and it was fun for a little while. by then, however, his needs grew teeth. 
mafia boss sukuna who finally saw you again after he just turned twenty-four. it was supposed to be a quick transaction between two commissions, an in-and-out operation, but you’re dangling in front of him like a succulent piece of meat, and you’re just so lovely, so unfit for dirty business. perhaps it’s the only semblance you share with your old man.
mafia boss sukuna who was finally promoted to head commissioner at twenty-nine, the youngest they’ve ever seen. the old bastard celebrated his accomplishment with a party at a caporegime’s home outside of the bustling city. parties aren’t his thing, but sukuna smiles when he sees you again before bringing his glass to his lips. third time’s the charm, right?
mafia boss sukuna who can play your papa like a fiddle. at the age of thirty-two, sukuna is in his prime, and so are you, his little lady—the way your belly swells sends a clear message to his subordinates. there’s still a long way to go before he can reach the top, but for now, sukuna is content with sitting across from your father at the dining table.
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(masterlist)
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ryry-rebel · 9 months
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Mafia Boss Sukuna
Mafia Boss Sukuna x fem reader
Warnings- Sex, Cussing, Mentions of killing
Word Count- 690
Pronouns- she/her the reader is female
Content- cussing, kissing, fluff, mentions of killing, smut, degration, pet names, penetration, slapping, aftercare, groping
My Masterlist -> Masterlist
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Mafia Boss Sukuna who would murder anyone for you. He would burn the entire world down for you if it was you who asked. You say the word and whoever you want is dead. He would kill them however you wanted; your wish is his command. “I will tell my men to get rid of them tonight. You say the word and it’s done.”
Mafia Boss Sukuna who caters and gives into your every need. Nothing is too expensive for him. “Kuna look, that dress is just so beautiful.” “Put it on me.” You jumped up and down with excitement as you ran into the store to try the dress on. His generosity towards you went further than clothes. Jewelry? He’s got it covered. Are you craving a specific dish? He will order it and have it prepared for you.
Mafia Boss Sukuna who is so overprotective of you. He wants to be with you all the time, but with his job, that’s impossible. So, you are forbidden from going out without him or one of his most trusted employees with you. He wants to keep you safe from harm. “Baby, I know you want to go out, but I have enemies and I don’t want their disgusting hands all over what’s mine.”
Mafia Boss Sukuna who tortures anyone who wrongs you. “What did he say to you? I’ll have his head on a spike, and I’ll ship his body back to his family! Nobody hurts my girl.” If someone dared make you cry, other than him, they wouldn’t live to see another day. He would track them down and murder them with his own two hands. Their death would be slow and painful.
Mafia Boss Sukuna who lets you attend his meetings with him. “Master Sukuna, is this woman allowed in here?” “This woman is my lady, and you will treat her with upmost respect. She is to remain at my side.” Sukuna would sit in his big leather chair and pull you onto his lap. He will rub his fingers along your hips as he goes on with business. His hands will squeeze your plump thighs as he watches you wriggle in front of his associates. He will ask for your opinions on his business matters too. Most likely he won’t take your words into consideration, but he wants his underlings to have respect for you.
Mafia Boss Sukuna who claims you in bed. He buries his cock deep inside your cunt and thrusts his hips into yours with extreme force. “Look at you, taking my big cock like a good little slut.” “You are my little slut, aren’t you? Such a pretty little whore for this cock.” He would wipe your tears away as he continued to assault your little pussy. He would slap your ass until you were crying out his name. “That’s right baby, cum on my cock for me.”
Mafia Boss Sukuna who surprisingly gives the best aftercare. He would kiss up and down your body, making sure he tends to all the marks and bruises he left. “I didn’t hurt you too much did I sweetheart? I didn’t mean to be too rough with you.” He would run you a hot bath and use your favorite bath bombs. “I’ll wash you up baby, just relax for me, okay?” He would massage your aching muscles while he brushes your tangled hair. “You did such a good job for me.”
Mafia Boss Sukuna who has a soft spot for you and only you. Everyone knows Sukuna’s cold demeanor and vicious personality, but you get to witness his warmhearted and loving side. When he got you alone, Sukuna would shower you with praise and kisses. “You look so gorgeous today doll.” “You’re such a pretty girl, and you’re all mine.” He would wrap his arms around you tightly and pull you close as he places warm, gentle kisses to your forehead. At night he would cuddle you and whisper sweet nothings into your ear until you drifted off to sleep. “Sleep tight baby. I love you so much. You mean the absolute fucking world to me.”
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sukebeyanki · 5 months
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A little bit of a preview for friend’s skit mafia zine I was invited to before dropping a real preview of my page art
Yuji and Sukuna are twins and short king was a bully and delinquent as a teen so yuji decided to become a policeman when he grows up to help his bro to not to become worse. Sukuna got worse apparently and joined mafia. He hated his twin bro bc parents always compared them to each other. And told him to be like Yuji seeing only his downs and ignoring his ups. Yuji was investigating some case Sukuna was into (he didnt know about it yet) and got lured to Mafia boss's headquarters to receive punishment for being too nosy. He met the brutal big boss and his little twin bro in there.
(That’s a little backstory for a page piece I’ve done)
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risuola · 3 days
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F. READER X SUKUNA RYOMEN // After Sukuna finally got a human body, his power was taken away and sealed within you.
cw: Sukuna is separated from Yuji and has his own body (not the heian form tho!), smut, mentions of hurt and violence, some blood and execution mentioned, reader discretion is advised — 7,3k words
a/n: ok so i've been meaning to finish this wip for so long and as i opened the file i realized i don't like the way it's written and i rewrote all 11 pages in word and now it's hopefully finished so... enjoy the usual — hurt, comfort, angst-fluff dynamics and emotional constipation ♡
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“What do you want, curse?”
A long, deep sigh escaped your lungs as you reached for a towel to dry your body off. As you stepped out of a shower, last thing you expected to see was the King of Curses himself leaning nonchalantly against the tiled wall of your bathroom, eyeing you with the wicked smile on his face. How on brand. You didn’t expect him but saying that his sudden presence surprised you would be an overstatement. You learned to expect him anytime.
“Don’t ask silly questions,” he scoffed, narrowing his eyes that in the sharp lights of your ceiling lamp glistened in blood-red. All four of them were fixed on your damp frame, on your exhausted body. It wasn’t the best day to mess with him. Not that any other day was better to deal with the most cursed curse of all curses that ever existed — this one though was particularly inconvenient.
It wasn’t longer than maybe an hour since you got home, returning from a mission that Gojo had given you, entrusting your power to rid the world of a group of curses. They were exceptionally violent, first to special grade with no doubt and you did, in fact, manage to exorcise them all, but not without your body getting painfully battered.
“You know I cannot grant your wish, don’t you? I wouldn’t give you your powers even if the world was on fire and you were the last available option to save it.”
He scoffed, again, and smirked like the pure evil that he is. You approached slowly, reaching for the robe hanging beside him, hopeful to get this conversation over sooner rather than later, but before your fingers even had a chance of grasping the soft, silky fabric of the gown, Sukuna snatched your wrist. His long, calloused fingers wrapped tightly around your forearm and he twisted it, tugging and pulling, until your back hit the wall.
Trapped between the cold tiles and his muscular frame, you winced at the sudden wave of pain that struck your body. Your reaction time lacked as in matter of split seconds both of your wrists were pinned above your head, bound by only one of his large hands and you were helpless. So devastatingly, utterly helpless against the sheer force in front of you. Your bones were fragile as twigs in his iron grip, so easy to bend and break under the pressure of the power he held and you knew it from practice that he could and he would break them if he wished to do so.
“That little mouth of yours is gonna get you in big trouble one day,” he said, a sound as low as a purr, and a grin spread across his face, as he lowered his head enough to meet your eyes. His gaze, tinged with crimson and madness, pierced your soul and if you didn’t know better, you’d say your prayers right now because the face in front of you was a face of slow and cruel death.
“I bet I can manage the trouble that is you. I appreciate the care,” you were calm, sounded calm, despite the rushing rumble of your heart against the ribcage in your chest. You were nonchalant, ignorant even, most likely very naïve and dumb, but you knew that what would be a certain demise to anyone else, for you it just wasn’t.
Born into a family of ordinary people, you were different. Gifted with the sight that allowed you to notice what was invisible to the eyes of others — the spirits. Curses. The ability formed your life, led you onto a path which eventually crossed with the man you only heard legends about. Satoru Gojo had taken you under his wing, showed you the world of jujutsu and allowed you to be yourself when everyone else wanted you to just act normal. But you were a special one. You were gifted, no, you were heavily and deeply tainted with something you couldn’t understand. Something even he couldn’t understand. There was no rank for you. No label that could be tied to your name. You were just different, with the exceptional physical fitness and peculiar, precise control over the cursed energy, you easily passed all of the tests and challenges. But your powers are dark. They are heavy, suffocating, they made other people fear you despite the kindness that showed through your warm personality.  
“I hate it when you talk down to me,” Sukuna growled. His low voice died down when he slowly pressed his lips to yours, greedily taking your breath away as his hand swiftly removed the towel from your body. A shiver ran down your spine, the sudden contact with the cold ceramics behind you made you jolt forward, involuntarily pressing your body against the wall of muscle. Ryomen’s clothed torso provided more comfort than the bone-chilling tiles. You felt him smirk against your mouth.
When Sukuna separated from Itadori’s body, materializing in his own form and threatening the entire universe with his existence and unsatiable thirst for blood and destruction, Satoru, along with some other people that you didn’t know, acted immediately. It was a sacrifice to pick you for the new vessel, it was a decision made in a rush and you’d have to think twice before agreeing to it again if you ever had a chance. Your technique allowed you to store someone else’s cursed energy so it was an easy choice for everyone involved.
The King of Curses got stripped of most of his power when he was barely awakened in his own body, and said power was then transferred to yours. Sealed inside your fragile human frame, nearly destroying you from inside out with the initial shock wave. Since that day you had to learn and accept to live with constant pain, the never-ending suffering, because locking away Sukuna’s evil was much more important than your well-being.
You were told that it’s different than what Itadori was to the king. The curse created a space for itself inside Yuji’s soul, keeping his own powers contained to only himself and you — you had his cursed energy constantly, unstoppably racing through your body, poisoning your veins with every pump of your heart and it hurt. It burned like a hellfire was spreading throughout your circulatory system and since that day, your life had become a curse itself. Your sleep has gotten worse, you were tired and for the first few weeks you were barely able to move. It felt like the cells were tearing themselves apart inside you, like everything was in a state of never-ending volcanic eruption. It was agonizing, torturous. You felt like dying. Every day. Luckily, Ieiri was able to develop a medicine that taken every day, calmed everything down enough to make it bearable.  
You got used to it, as the year passed by, but what you also had to get used to, was the owner. Ryomen Sukuna visited you so often that he partially lived in your apartment, patiently torturing you with his presence until you gave him what he was rightfully entitled to. He didn’t even consider covering a part of your rent, asshole. He couldn’t kill you — your death would take all of his powers down to your grave with you — but it didn’t stop him from trying his luck with everything that wasn’t enough to take your life.
You remember the first attempts, the first showcases of his annoyance. It was a shame, it was pathetic to Sukuna and he felt humiliated to get caught in such a simple trick, to allow himself to not have his guard up from the very first breath he took once he separated from the brat. All of that pent up anger, he threw on you and the many trials of violence and brutality had taught him that your tolerance for pain was high. And you fought back. Over time, and after many weeks you spent inside the hospital bed underneath the precise care of Shoko, Sukuna had realized that no amount of beating and torture will force you into obedience — as annoying as the realization was — so he changed his ways and switched to haunting you. Taunting you with his constant presence. Able to enter your apartment at any given moment, the curse made sure you were never too comfortable in your own home. You grew to live with that too.
“Hurts?” Sukuna grinned, watching the wince that twisted your otherwise attractive features the very moment his fingers dug into your side. With sadistic pleasure he studied the way your brows creased and your eyes fell shut. The rumble of your heart was evident in the silence of the bathroom and even more evident were the very palpable fractures of your ribs underneath his palms. “Want me to stop?” He mused, griping the injury tighter and the cruel wave of pain almost knocked the air out of your lungs.
“You are charming as always, curse,” you scoffed, forcing some oxygen into your system and cussing yourself internally for showing the pain, for giving him the clearest indication of your weakened state. For giving him something to use against you. “It hurts, yes. I’ve had a rough day, I’d like to rest.”
“Then I will take you to bed,” he let go of both your hands and ribs, scooping you up and carrying you towards the bedroom. Your bare body seemed tiny against the tall, muscular built of him. Too fragile to be so stubborn and blame it on said fragility, but Sukuna out of habit put you down onto the plush sheets with gentleness so uncharacteristic of him.
“You know I can’t give you what you want,” you looked at him, your gaze portraying the tiniest sliver of hope that finally he’ll understand and give up, but giving up wasn’t a phrase present in king’s vocabulary. He’d rather die than let go and both of you knew it. “I’m sure you can tell I’m exhausted, but if you make me, I will fight.”
“Oh, don’t be silly, woman,” he grinned, allowing his two pairs of eyes to run down your naked body, silently admiring the petite frame that was capable of holding all of his strength. “I wouldn’t force you to fight when you’re already so beaten. What do you think I am, a monster?”
“Not a monster. You’re a curse, which is worse.” A shrug of your shoulders sent a jolt of pain throughout your body and it took everything from you to not wince in front of him again. You reached for a t-shirt you use to sleep in — a garment stolen from Itadori, big enough to almost be a dress, comfortable cotton that wrapped you with softness and warmth. Sukuna knows your body. He’s seen it naked, touched and tasted it many times and the piercing gaze of all four of his eyes on your skin was something you grew to accept, but you wanted to get dressed anyway. Sukuna was never a gentle lover and your broken ribcage wouldn’t take his roughness too well.
"It sounds so lovely in your mouth," he chuckled, taking the blouse from your hands and tossing it carelessly away. "Who said you can dress up?"
"Who said you can give me orders?"
"Am I not the king?"
"Of curses, yes. I'm not a curse, your jurisdiction does not apply to me."
“Gods, you need to shut up.”
There was only one thing Sukuna grew to enjoy a sliver bit more than torturing you and that was having sex — though he dismayed the thought of such primal pleasures taking over his urges. It felt foreign at first, as if his own body tried to betray him by showing interest in a simple, unworthy human just as you, but he was able to reason it within his own, conflicted mind. Intimacy created a leak. A leak of his own power seeping through you, an unknown weakening of your defenses and Sukuna was able to, quite literally, fuck his powers out of you, absorb it back into his own form, feel more like himself for just a little moment.
Other thing is — and he hated it the most — that he genuinely enjoyed the time in bed with you. It was pleasurable, too pleasurable almost and Ryomen actively dismissed the idea of you stripping him off his cold judgement, the clarity of his thoughts, but he loved it also. Every soft whimper and whisper of his name that ever slipped through your lips made his ego grow, made him want more and although he hated the seal, he admired the shell you wore around your soul and if there was ever anyone he wished to be intimate with, it was you. You held his power in the body he was able to touch, to taste, to have, and over time Sukuna grew to respect it, in his own twisted way. Over hundreds of years he’s been around, he had seen people brave — or stupid — enough to try and contain his power, to ingest one of the cursed objects his soul was fragmented into and then, he watched them die in pain and suffering just from a small fraction of it. You were able to hold it, agony or not.
You, on the other hand, had no clue what exactly was causing the seal to leak, you couldn’t tell why was it happening when he was inside you and not when he was trying to beat the life out of you. Why breaking your bones never let a drop of his energy to slip from under your control and the intimacy made you lose it just like that? You couldn’t tell, but just the fact that Sukuna’s able to regain any amount of his legacy through intercourse should be enough of a reason to never, ever let him touch you, but oh well. Elders didn’t like you anyway and the cursed energy released was so insignificant it wouldn’t really cause much trouble — that’s at least how you reasoned with yourself. Sometimes you wondered if the small boost was even worth all the trouble for the king, but it wasn’t hard to notice he was clearly enjoying just being close to you.
“Oh, do I?” You questioned him; dared, and he took you on a challenge, pressing his lips to yours. You whimpered and pressed your open palms to his clothed chest when he climbed on top of you, hovering above your much smaller frame and allowing his shadow and evil aura to swallow you and you flinched. Your senses, however trained, were always on high alert when he was so close. It was reflexive, a first response that screamed, begged, to get away from him, to run and don’t look back but you had to learn pushing it down. It’s been only few weeks since you managed to fix and patch up the hole his fist once made in one of your walls and putting up a fight right now would certainly damage your apartment yet again. Not to speak about yourself.
“You never know when to shut up,” he purred against your lips and moved, following the edges of your jawline and down your neck, spreading wet bites and marks along your delicate skin there.
“Sukuna, please, not today,” you whimpered, pleading and gasping just slightly, feeling his long, calloused fingers already finding their place between your thighs, teasing the awaiting bud of joy and pleasure that, unlike you, was very excited for the events unraveling.
“Why not?” He asked, letting go the sensitive skin right above your pulse and admiring the reddish, swollen patch he left there. “You’re so wet, I cannot ignore it.” You could feel his grin against your shoulder, hear it in the mocking yet proud tone of his voice because he was proud of himself. He knew how to push your buttons, which ones to push first and how to navigate his lips and fingers across your curves and hollows to make the most out of it because truth is, ever since he got his own human-like body, he was able to appreciate physical pleasures that before that, he couldn’t care less about. “Aren’t you ashamed? A sorcerer, spreading your legs for the king of curses? Moaning my name instead of spells, digging your nails into my skin instead of knives?”
“Aren’t you ashamed? The King of Curses himself, getting so hard and worked up for a simple human?” You replied with a mock underlying in your tone and he laughed.
“Didn’t I already tell you to shut up?”
“You did,” you confirmed, nodding and pulling his blouse up, forcing him to undress and he complied. His covered in black markings skin, stretched over a strong musculature never failed to make you gasp in awe. Sukuna is an attractive man, slightly reminiscing you of Itadori due to him being the last of his hosts, but also completely different. The aura is different, the height and body shape. There’s nothing of Yuji’s kindhearted, warm nature — Ryomen is a menace. His eyes are narrowed, knowing, proud. He’s arrogant, he’s full of himself, he’s spiteful and uncaring and sometimes you wondered how he managed to coexist with the society for a year now, with his temper so cold and obnoxious.
“So behave,” he smirked, pushing your knees apart and slipping two of his thick fingers inside you. He worked them easily through the slick, warm entrance and stretched you with slow movements. A brief attempt of foreplay, careless towards the discomfort his hands managed to cause you, but he loved it — he loved to feel how wet you could get for him, he loved to see you all worked up, blushed and flushed, squirming underneath his very touch. “Behave or it’ll hurt more than necessary.”
“It’s going to hurt anyway, there’s no way around it,” you breathed out, your tone quite blank as you tried to brace yourself to feel every broken bone in your ribcage. Truth is that breathing was causing you problems and you were actively pushing the petrifying thought of rough sex deep down your thoughts. “I’m not good at behaving.”
“Hard to disagree,” the curse chuckled, running the tip of his tongue along the length of your neck and it took him a second to replace his soaked-up digits with his rock-hard member. Low, animalistic and gravelly purr escaped his throat, as his length got into the tight embrace of muscles inside you. A velvety warmth mixed with sharp, stinging feeling of your nails digging into the skin of his back made his mind go blank for a moment. You run your fingers across his body, adding new marks to the constellation of his own and he took in the way your breath hitched in your chest, the soft thud of your heart that he felt underneath his lips as he kissed your neck, nipping and sucking spots onto the otherwise clean surface. Hot waves of euphoria rushed through him, adrenaline pumped inside his veins and were it not for your injuries, he would be pounding into you relentlessly by now, pushing you above and beyond your limits, mercilessly taking your breath away time after time, watching your eyes roll to the back of your head and basking in the exhilarating feeling of you taking him in. If not for the bones that he so clearly can feel beneath his fingertips, the fractures sharp against your skin over your ribcage, he would be relentlessly rushing towards orgasm and ecstasy. This time, he refrained. This time, he decided to be curious, to see how the softness you always tell him about tastes on his own tongue.
Sukuna’s movements were slow, odd but deep and heavy. Every nerve, every sensitive spot in your entire body was hit and abused again and again and again. His lips kept gluing themselves to your mouth, your neck, shoulders. He was kissing your chest, nipping at your skin, making you heave, and moan, and whimper. He was taking you all in, observing, listening, savoring and it didn’t take long for the heat to pool below your stomach. A coil of tight pleasure, a knot begging to snap open and undo itself. The man was all over you, his hips worked in a rhythmical melody that’s got you lose your focus, your train of thoughts. It cleared your mind — a blank space that now was filled only with him and the intense, addicting way his hips moved.
You trembled.
Your thighs were shaking, your breath cut short.
You’ve had your fair share of intercourses with the King of Curses — each of them pleasurable in its own way. He has his ways of exhausting you, of pushing your limits, overstimulating you. He experimented, dominated and forced you into submission one way or another. Sukuna is no stranger to pain and violence and throughout the year you’ve got to know all colors of his palette but nothing, not once, resembled the tenderness he showed you this time.
“Suku–ahh—” you panted, cried out, gripping his biceps tightly.
“That’s right, let it out,” he grinned, demanded and moved his hips with more precision, just a little more force to hit that one spot he knew does it for you and it stole a breath from you. Your back arched, despite the broken bones, your head went blank as the groundbreaking wave of pleasure washed over you. The tight ring of muscles kept squeezing and contracting and Sukuna groaned along with you. He was leaking, his balls heavy and aching for release that he forcefully postponed, greedy to take more from you before he gives you any of his.
He pulled out, almost completely — a false promise of a breather — and then pushed back, fully, completely. His body moves more frantically, more rushed and yet, the compassion rushed in his veins, stripping the thrusts off their usual violence.
Odd. Addicting.
The first bliss was soon followed by two more and your third climax was his first. He became sloppier, hurried as he chased the sweet, sweet release and you tangled your fingers into his soft, blush-colored hair pulling him in and kissing his breath away. You couldn’t focus and nether could he. Nothing but the immense pleasure of the act, nothing before and nothing after, just here and now. Your body and his, in your apartment, in your bed. And when he came, he drew blood from your lower lip, catching it between his sharp fangs.
You let out a shaky breath, way more tired than before and yet, you smiled softly when Sukuna collapsed onto the bed beside you — the last bits of reason that made him shift his body to the side so that he wouldn’t put his weight on top of your fragile frame. He had this infuriating and oddly attractive smirk plastered onto his face and you knew he’s listening — to your calming breath and the harsh thuds of your heartbeat rumbling inside your chest.
Sukuna felt content. Utterly and completely satisfied and what’s got him surprised, he also felt his cells swell with power. The amount that leaked, due to unknown reasons, was incomparable to what he’s ever been able to absorb before. He couldn’t tell if it was your exhaustion, the wounds and damage your body was covered with or just the way he took you this time, but he knew for a fact that there was more. He also noticed that this time, unlike any other, he was completely abandoning the idea of cursed energy. It’s as if it entered his body on its own, without him actively taking it in, all while he was completely lost in the moments of pleasure, lost in you.
A grin on his face only got bigger, the feeling of might overwhelming him for a moment. He wanted to laugh, to scream, to destroy and kill. To feel like his old, superior self, to force his way through other people’s suffering. It felt ecstatic, to have a part of himself back, to feel the strength surging through him and—
—that’s until he looked at you again and he realized there was a scent of blood in the air. A metallic hint of something that was very wrong with you, something that he never thought he would miss since he loved to be surrounded by blood. But you were quiet about it. Breathing fast, with a hand pressed to your side and your eyebrows furrowed — a clear giveaway of the pain that slowly returned to you once the euphoric aftershocks wore off.
“You’re bleeding, huh?” He more so stated than asked, gathering himself up and gently, carefully slipping one of his arms underneath your knees and the other around your back. Once he lifted your worn off body, not without a quiet wince slipping from your mouth, the red, vibrant stain revealed itself from where you were resting. “That wound was there before, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, it was,” you replied, weakly, leaning the side of your head towards his flexing bicep and clenching your fingers around your fractured mid-section.
The shower, hot and steamy, wasn’t the most pleasant of all, but it did wonders to wash away the sticky residues from your thighs and the blood and sweat that mixed atop of your skin. Sukuna’s large hand pressed itself onto the wound, forcing it to stop bleeding — trying, at least.
“Why didn’t you heal it?”
“I didn’t have enough power to do so. I just barely managed to close it, and—” You trailed off, feeling dizzy. It was getting to you, ridding you of basic abilities to communicate and the king caught up immediately.
Water got turned off and he dried you quickly, superficially. You felt the towel being run over your limbs and pressed around your torso where the most damage was. Then he wrapped a bandage around you, tight and precise, hopeful to get the bleeding in control before he took you back under the sheets — with clean underwear on and after he flash-changed the sheets into clean ones.
Your battery was so low, you felt like you’re gonna pass out any moment.
“It was amazing,” you told him, once his weight dented the mattress and his body heat reached your cold skin. Usually, you wouldn’t feed into his ego, it was already way too big and swollen, but you figured he deserved to hear a praise after he restrained himself from fucking you to death.
“Rest,” he ordered, harsh and dry but he couldn’t hide the little smirk that tugged on the corner of his mouth. He acted like he didn’t care of what you just said, but he did, and he’ll remember it.
With hopes that sleep will solve your health issues, Sukuna watched as you drifted away and with deep dismay he noticed that the white bandages that hug your torso were slowly and steadily turning red. Your face was in a constant frown, you were visibly in pain and getting feverish, if he wasn’t mistaken, and he cursed his own self for caring about such things. You were a strong woman — despite all of his insults and cruel words he had told you during the past year — and he had never, not once, saw you in such a pathetic, vulnerable state but then, maybe if he stayed with you more often instead of leaving the moment he was done fucking his powers out of you, he would know better. Even so, you never complained and Sukuna isn’t stupid, he knows how much trouble his cursed energy causes you, how much pain and everyday agony you have to push through and yet, he never heard you whine about it.
King’s hands moved on their own, and when they touched your cold body, the healing process began. He watched the dark bruise around your ribcage fade into nothing and observed how the fractured bones underneath the skin moved and shifted into their original places. The blood stopped soaking the bandages and once rid of them, Ryomen watched how your skin knitted back together, leaving nothing but a pale, pinkish scar. Every last bit of his power he put into the reverse cursed technique to repair as much damage as he could. Then, with his arm around your waist, he fell asleep next to you.
* * *
Waking up to a man in your bed wasn’t exactly something you’re used to — even if said man is Ryomen Sukuna who’s an often guest between your sheets. He never stays because he never cares enough to stay, not to mention staying in a tight embrace. You found yourself snuggled close to his side, your head resting on his muscular chest while his arm was wrapped around you, making sure you’re not going anywhere. His hand was resting exactly where the pain should be and with shock you realized there’s nothing — no hurt, no bandages that you have a dull memory of being wrapped in.
You didn’t heal yourself. You were too tired.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Sukuna’s voice stopped you, when you made an attempt to pull yourself away from him. He sounded lower than usual, raspier and unsettlingly not evil.
“Why are you still here?” You asked, running your hand over the bumps of muscles on his abdomen. “I’m so confused. I’m not togging to complaint though.”
“You’d try, silly woman,” he grunted, amused and squeezed your side more securely. “What the hell did you do to me, huh?”
“I don’t know, but I appreciate the healing,” you teased.
“Don’t ever talk about it.”
Laughing, you forced a groan of annoyance out of him — the kind of groan that let you know you're treading on thin ice and one thoughtless move could break it, one word not thought through enough could make you fall into the pit of cold and ice.
"What, you want me to forget that the King of Curses used his hard-earned power to heal a mere sorcerer? Not a chance."
"If that mere sorcerer bleeds to death, my power will be gone as well. I had a reason for it."
"If you say so, Sukuna," still amused, you pulled away from his embrace and got up from the bed, nearly dodging a slap he aimed at your ass.
That morning, you had breakfast with the King of Curses, bringing this wonderful adventure with him to an unexpected end. Afterwards, he kissed your breath away and left you confused as ever.
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Several weeks had passed until Ryomen once again entered your field of view. Unfortunate.
You had a day off, enjoying it in a café with your friends, seeping carelessly on a latte with the almond milk and a dash of honey. It was a beautiful day, warm too, and you thought nothing would mess this up but life proved you wrong when the curse stormed in, steaming with rage and madness and — call it intuition — it was a dead giveaway of why he showed up.
“Such a great day, huhhh–“ you wailed quietly, lifting your cup from the table before his fist broke the wood in half. It wasn’t hard to notice how absolutely furious he was and it made you both curious and alarmed.
“Give. Me. Something.” The man growled lowly, frustrated and outraged and you couldn’t recall any time you ever saw him that infuriated.
“I can’t, you kno–“ you tried to tell him, but before you even got the full sentence out, he already had his fingers wrapped around your neck. A sharp sound of glass shattering accompanied the quiet yelp you let out as he yanked you up and slammed your back onto the nearest wall. You felt your feet losing their contact with the ground.
“Give me something.” He repeated, his voice so low and menacing that it sent shivers down your spine. It felt as if you were speaking with death. He was so close, you felt his uneven breath on your face, the crimson of his eyes seemed to glow. “Give me something or I’ll fuck you right here and now to get it.”
The rage in his eyes, the absolute storm of bloodlust, you wondered what has gotten him so worked up. King of Curses had a short temper, yes. He was often annoyed, angry, of course, but such fury wasn’t typical to his character and you knew that if you refuse right now, he will surely go through with the threat he made and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. You’ll just get hurt.
“Put me down,” you tried, speaking calmly and wrapping your fingers around his forearm, hoping to give him a hint before your windpipe was fully crushed. Your heart was racing inside your chest, you heard the pulse in your ears, felt it in your head and neck. Fear wasn’t the most familiar feeling for you — you’ve grown accustomed to Sukuna’s violence, his tantrums and threats, his forceful ways of getting what he wanted and you also got to know him enough to know this kind of rage wasn’t caused by someone stepping on his toe or taking the last package of his favorite snack. This wasn’t caused by someone looking at him from the wrong angle. This was pure. Primal. “What happened?”
“Give me my power,” he said again, terrifyingly calm and he lowered you down so that your feet reached the floor again, but instead of letting go of your throat, he squeezed it even tighter, pressing his entire body against you. “I’m asking for the last time.”
Everyone present in the café — those who didn’t turn tail the second Sukuna raged inside — were too stunned to react, too petrified to intervene and you couldn’t blame them. The King of Curses, even stripped of most of his cursed energy, was still a threat not to be ignored. Still a menace, a mischievous demonic creature feared by curses, sorcerers and now also regular people that had a misfortune to meet him. The very sound of his name made all of them tremble in terror. You didn’t expect anyone to help you.
“I can’t breathe,” you struggled the words out, whispering on top of the very limited air that flew barely between your upper and lower parts of the respiratory systems. Sukuna growled but loosened the death grip he had on your neck, allowing the oxygen once again into your lungs. Then, you made a mistake. Then, you decided to trust him. “I hope you remember that I will be executed for this. Make it worth it.”
* * *
Later that day, deep into the night you woke up to a sudden slam of the doors. The very familiar, dark aura filled in your otherwise calm apartment and it took no effort to realize who just invaded your space. There were only two people brave enough to enter your home so recklessly and it wasn’t hard to tell them apart.
“Stay in bed,” Sukuna said once you pulled yourself up from the pillows and the mattress and he headed straight into your bathroom. “I need to wash up.”
You exhaled and lay back down, taking in the soft, monotone sound of the shower. You couldn’t tell why he was there, why did he come to your place and act like he owns it but frankly, you couldn’t care less right now about how he behaved. It somehow put you at ease that he decided to show up after what happened before. After what led you to face consequences you wished you wouldn’t have to face.
Few slurs broke up the hushed hum of water and soon it became quiet. Ryomen showed up in your bedroom just few moments after — partially dried, fully naked, with the black markings that adorned his pale skin on full display. Your eyes run down his silhouette, taking in the view no one else had a chance to experience and you let out an exhale. The man ruffled his hair with a towel, an attempt of making it less dripping, and casually slipped under the covers next to you, as if it was his place all along. You spared him the comments about how comfortable he had suddenly become within the confines of your apartment and waited patiently to hear whatever he had to say.
“There was a special curse user earlier,” he began nonchalantly, as he settled against the pillows, supporting his head with both of his arms crossed below it. “He was after you, wanted to suck out everything you have sealed inside.”
“I heard.”
“He wanted to, to quote him, fuck you dry of my power, kill you and make me watch as he became me. That was the plan, to take away the title of king.”
“So, it was about your reputation?” You questioned, letting out a deep sigh and turned away from him. He was quiet for a moment, his eyes piercing a hole through your back.
“Do you think I need to worry about my reputation?” Sukuna growled annoyed and you hummed softly, neither confirming nor denying.
“I guess not.”
You were tired. Exhausted. That was supposed to be your day off, your time to rest and reset but what it turned out to be, was just a disaster. You spent hours arguing with elders of Jujutsu community, trying over and over again to protect yourself, to defend your own life against the accusations that were being thrown at you from every angle and even Gojo couldn’t do much after you willingly released Sukuna’s power from the seal within you. It was bound to happen, you thought you were ready for it ever since it was mentioned for the first time. You were scheduled for execution as it seemed to be safer for the world to kill you, and king’s powers along, than to spare your life and risk it getting out of you, but Satoru then intervened, forcing the date to be postponed. You were high in ranks and he swore you’re capable of keeping the force safe and you did just that for the last twelve months. That’s until you decided to break all the rules and bend to Sukuna’s will.
It wasn’t just that. The cursed user revealed a way to loosen up the lock that held the danger away from the outside world, that he made it known that intimacy was a way to go, your future was decided already. With the knowledge out and about, the elders came to realization that in time there will be more curses or curse users that will come to you to get a taste of that sweet, sweet power and if they won’t do it, Sukuna will. Telling them that the amounts are insignificant didn’t help your case either — those pricks focused more on how you know that rather than what that meant. A diseaster.
“Now what’s wrong, huh? I didn’t kill anybody.”
King threw an arm around your waist, turning his body towards you and supporting his hand on his elbow to see you better. He pulled you into his chest, as if he wished to hide you completely inside his embrace, to protect you from whatever was weighing on your mind and you’d be very surprised if not for the turmoil now raging inside your head.
“My execution has been decided,” you spat out quietly and felt how every muscle in Sukuna’s body tensed significantly. “It’s scheduled for tomorrow night.”
“What execution? I didn’t kill anyone. I got rid of a fucking curse user. I even saved a little brat. Unintentionally, but still.”
“I know, Sukuna, and I am grateful. I really am, but–“
“But what?”
“They found out that sex creates an opening and it just got worse and worse from that moment. They wouldn’t listen and what could I even say to make it sound better. They already figured out that I’m sleeping with you which is enough of a reason to kill me.”
“And what did the jerk in the blindfold say?”
“There’s not much he can do at this point,” you sighed, mindlessly smoothing little circles over the hand that was keeping you close. “From what I know, Gojo stayed in Jujutsu high to discuss it further, but yeah… it’s tough.”
"Should I talk to them?"
"I'm not sure if you insulting or threatening them, could help in any way."
"So what, you expect me to agree to your death?"
"I've thought about it," you said quietly. "God, I'm naive, but I think I'll give you your power back before they execute me. I just hope you don't burn the world to ashes."
"Y/n, for fuck's sake, screw that power. I want you to live. I acted before because that bastard wanted to hurt you. I don't care about my reputation; I don't need to. Sure, it pisses me off that I was robbed of my energy," he babbled, rushing his words. You knew that he wasn't the best at explaining emotions and that he would rather die than admit that he cared for someone. "I need you alive."
"Did the King of Curses perhaps fell..."
"Don't push it," he snapped and you chuckled.
"You two are soooo cute."
Gojo’s voice cut through the tense atmosphere, as he materialized out of nowhere, nearly stopping your heart in the process. Last thing you expected was having him witness you in bed, with your back pressed to the very naked Sukuna and you should’ve seen that coming because you knew Satoru will step by once he’s done negotiating. While you were shocked, the curse didn’t even flinch. “Oh, am I interrupting something?”
"Satoru—" You lifted yourself up on one of your elbow. "Why are you here?"
"I come with good news," a grin spread across Gojo's face. "You will not be executed tomorrow. They took into consideration the fact that Sukuna helped a child and no one was hurt. Well, I forced them to consider it."
"It was an accident," Ryomen muttered in his own defense, but you glared at him, clearly ordering him to shut up. Oddly enough, this time he complied with no remarks.
"Happy little accidents, as they call it," Satoru giggled and spread his arms. "You're safe. Don't mess around too much for a while though. I'm talking to the curse."
Sukuna rolled his eyes, all four, expressing the particular inconvenience of the request, but you knew he'd tone himself down for as long as necessary.
"I can't believe you convinced them for the second time," you fell back into the pillow, relieved.
"What can I say, I have a strong personal charm," Satoru bowed theatrically. "So, are you two together or do you just fuck?"
"We can discuss that some other time, right?"
"Oh yeah, right. Stay safe, kids!" Saying that, Gojo disappeared and none of you even made an attempt to address how he called the thousand years old king a kid.
You let out a deep breath — the one you held for god knows how long — and felt the stress finally taking its toll on you. An exhaustion, sleepiness, anxiety – all of those came crawling at you at once.
"You're so tensed up," Sukuna purred, placing a small kiss on the side of your neck and he wouldn’t say it, but you could tell from the way his body felt against yours, that the tension left him as well. "You can relax now."
"Right," you muttered, sighing and with the encouragement of his hand, you turned to his face and immediately met his lips. He kissed you like a starved man, with a hand on the back of your neck. Murmuring, you surrendered to his touch, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of his mouth, to forget about the cruel and cold world around you and to indulge in whatever that was that you had with Sukuna. “We can relax now.”
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gojos-thot-patrol · 11 months
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I'm noticing a very distinct lack of Mafia AU in the JJK fandom. Might have to do something about that.
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tojifm · 10 months
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ride or die (mafia au). ༄ ryomen sukuna.
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― summary: you were living your best life, single and newly employed but sukuna had to swoop in to collect his payment (aka, you).
― TW: 18+ plot holes, dubious consent, choking, vaginal fingering, dom/sub undertones, a little bit of blood, uhhhh I think that's it?? I mean honestly sukuna comes with a warning.
word count: 3,721.
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Crazy and high.
That’s how you felt as the man before you began to decide whether or not to kill you.
Crazy and high.
That’s how you felt when he asked what your boyfriend meant to you. Nothing. Your answer was breathless.
Crazy and high.
That’s how you felt when he grinned at your answer. His eyebrows furrowed as he questioned you once more.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing,” you confirmed, shaking your head. “W-we were broken up, months ago.”
He watched you for a moment that held too long. “That’s not what he said.”
Despite the situation, you feel a current of red hot anger moving through your veins. Maybe it was the pent up anger of having to be mature throughout the whole relationship as your ex tainted your image. Maybe it was the fact that even apart and allegedly six feet under your ex was still ruining your life. Maybe it was the fact that you were drugged, kidnapped, and presented before this made-up king on the day of your first real job. Or, maybe it was a combination of everything. “Well, he said a lot of things, but it says a lot about you if you choose to believe him.”
You are grabbed by the hair and yanked back, the grip was tight and your eyes met the ceiling. You wince at the suddenness and less at the pain.“Apologize,” a voice hissed. You clenched your jaw stubbornly, sliding your eyes down to see the demon who watched as if it was nothing but a pleasant exchange. He watched you curiously, chin resting in his hands, eyebrows still furrowed. The lighting was still too dim for you to make out too much of his face. Asshole.
A yank to your hair and you realize that you had said that out loud. “You want to die, don’t you, bitch?” That wasn’t Sukuna. No. It was the disrespecting, self-destructive, low-life who had his hand in your hair that spoke. Sukuna’s eyes don’t waver as you thrash, your tied wrists jerking around behind your back, and yell at the man to let go. He observed you as if you were a zoo animal that needed to be caged. He watched as your seemingly timid figure, clawed at the hand, not realizing the man behind you was triple your size. He took note of the blood on your blouse and the rips on your skirts, the strands of hair sticking to your face and your neck from the nervous sweat. Sukuna meets the eyes of his guard who waited patiently for the finalé. Waited for his boss to make the call. Waited to put an end to the stupid girl at his feet. Poor guy. Sukuna smirks and gives a small shake of his head.
The grip lightens and soon enough, it's gone. You raise your hands to rub the sore spot, not realizing Sukuna had stood up. You mistake his footsteps for the man behind you. You turn around to glare only to find a row of masked army, posted dutifully against the concrete wall. All of them are sized similarly. All equipped with a number of weapons. Vests heavy with bullets. Belts adorned with glinting knives. You try to lock eyes with any of them but they stare ahead. Sukuna had recruited these men that looked straight out of the games your ex-boyfriend played. Call of Puberty or whatever. It couldn’t have been easy. These types of men were not bought with money. They’d do anything for him. You had no idea how you had been able to escape them in the car but you’d rather not test your theories in such a vulnerable position. Newly intimidated you turn back around.
Only to find another problem.
Your nose bumps against Sukuna’s and you let out a soft yelp at the sudden proximity, jerking back quickly. But his hand is already there, behind your head, long fingers encased you, holding you close to him. He is smiling. Up close, you are able to make out his features much more clearly. The left side of his face was scarred almost handsomely. His hair was a faded pink, his face decorated with tattoos on his forehead across his nose, jaw, chin, neck and maybe even further down but the blood stained shirt covered his torso, cutting your eyes short. Your breath becomes ragged, coming in short bursts as your eyes widen in a mixture of apprehension and fascination. You looked like the deer he had shot last week. “Why so skittish?”
It felt almost intimate if not for the situation. Caught between the tumultuous flurry of fear, your body mistakes your racing heartbeat for attraction directed at the killer before you. You struggled to find your voice. “I am not.”
Sukuna's satisfaction becomes evident in the gleam of his dark, lidded eyes at the rasp of your voice. His enjoyment at your disorientation was palpable, a sinister delight that sent a chill down your spine. His hot breath mingled with your own. You are dazed and he is happy. “Oh, but you are,” his dark and lidded eyes scan you one more time, before delivering the verdict. “I’ve decided.”
Crazy and high.
Mad and madder.
That's how you felt when he leaned in closer and bit your bottom lip. And you could not find it in yourself to care for the words he had just let out.
Throughout the steps back to your room, you are nauseous. His words ringing in your head like a warning. You were relieved. But mostly, you were confused. He had spared you. No, he had ripped everything away from you. You were not thankful. Just relieved. That was it. Nothing more. 
You will not be a victim of Stockholm syndrome on the first day of captivity.  
Another thing was rushing through your head but it was not the words exchanged or the fact that you were most likely to be jobless in case you did make it out (highly unlikely), but rather something else . . .
A recap. A wildly inappropriate and embarrassing recap. In all honesty, you could’ve convinced yourself that you had dreamt the whole interaction if not for the dried blood on your lips and the sound of his reverberating hum that had echoed in the silent room. 
If not for the shocked moan, if not for the feeling of his smile against your lips, if not for the hot tongue that had coaxed your mouth into a pliant mess. If not- 
Shaking your head you tried to focus on your steps. You had to stop. Distraction you needed a distraction. You decide to focus on the pair of Sukuna’s masked guards that were now guiding you to a room. They were taller and leaner than the ones in the basement and dressed in Tom Ford. They seemed more agile, more alert. No wonder you were free of the ropes that had caged your wrists. They would not make the same mistakes the others had. They will not let their attire hold them back. 
You look around the hallways, there's nothing traditional about them. The walls are painted a crimson color so dark it was almost black. It seemed to bleed into the air, permeating the corridor with an unsettling energy. The flooring is a marble that seemed to glare at you for even looking at it. Definitely expensive. It wouldn’t be a surprise. You doubted Sukuna was donating his blood money to charities. He looked and dressed like he could afford to buy countries, it only suited him to live like he did. 
Your thoughts are interrupted when the guards stop in front of a tall mahogany door. One of them reaches in his pocket to retrieve a long silver key. With a deliberate motion, he inserts the key into the lock, turning it with a resounding click that reverberates through the silence. The room is dark and you cannot make out anything inside. You wait for one of them to reach inside and turn on the light but they simply stand. You stare at them, unmoving. They stare back, equally blank. 
“Get in,” one of them says, still not moving. His voice is calm but laced with warning. Hesitantly you step inside only to jump when the door is thrown shut with a slam that echoed. You hear the door click and come to the conclusion that you’ve been locked inside. You inhale your shock and try to locate the light switch.
“Assholes,” you mumbled into the darkness, “all of them. Stupid jerkfaces.” 
Your hand brushes against a smooth spot in the otherwise roughened wall, and smile victoriously when the lights turn on. The room is as big as your apartment but there is nothing lavish about it. The furnishings are functional but lack any sense of warmth or personal touch. To your right, a queen-sized bed in the center accompanied by two side tables honing a singular lamp on top. There's a desk pushed against the wall next to you and just above it was a seemingly new T.V. You delve deeper into the room and locate a door to a walk-in closet that led to a bathroom. What the hell was this house?  
You step into the bathroom and observe yourself in the mirror. Your hair was a mess. Your cheeks stained with the mascara that had dripped from your eyes. Your gaze falls upon your swollen lips, stained with blood, a vivid reminder of the violence and danger that has infiltrated your world. Your fingers tentatively brush against them, tracing the tender flesh, and a shiver reverberates through your body. It is a visceral shock, a jolt of reality that reminds you of the gravity of your predicament.
Was this your life now? From securing an internship to landing a job at the same building you had met your boyfriend. From scrounging for change to make up for the student loans. From shopping at stores until you felt satisfied. From sloppy lunch dates to being enslaved by a man wanted by the country.  
Hopeless. 
Your vision blurs at the sudden tears that coated your eyes. You blink, once, twice, trying to get rid of them but they just fall. Racing down the path already created for them. 
Within the walk-in closet, you discover a treasure trove of clothes, each garment carefully selected and tailored to fit your size. The array of outfits spans a wide range, from elegant gowns to stylish blouses, from casual shorts to impeccably fitting pants. From shorts to the most perfect pants. In a flurry of misplaced emotions, you had tried on almost everything, watching yourself in the mirror. The way the denim hugged your curves. The way the material of pants danced when you walked. The way the skirts cinched your waist and drew attention to your seemingly elongated legs. Almost everything had fit you perfectly.
Too perfect. 
You push back the question of just how Ryomen Sukuna would have access to all this information but you didn't need to trouble yourself with any more questions. The day had terrorized you enough, you didn’t need your psyche to do it for you all over again. You knew if you began thinking you would come back to the point of cursing a dead man you had cut out of your life. 
You walk back into the shower after picking out a silk pajama set hanging in the closet. Turning on the shower and undressing, as the warm water cascades down your body, soothing your tense muscles, you take a moment to relish in the simple comfort of the shower. With each passing minute, the weight of the day's events begins to wash away, if only temporarily. As you reach for the body wash, your fingers brush against a familiar label. Surprised, you examine the bottle more closely, and to your astonishment, you discover that it is an exact replica of the one you use at home. A sense of surrealism washes over you as you realize that the products in this bathroom are not mere imitations but rather the very same ones you have come to rely on in your daily routine.
He had these brought from the security of your home.  
Unsettled once again, you close your eyes, feeling the hot whispers attempt to relax your stiffened body. 
You feel refreshed after the shower. Dressed in silk and hair wrapped in the fluffiest towel to ever exist. Somewhat free of your conflicting thoughts you step outside the door to your closet, still drying your hair. 
Sukuna's gaze lingers on you, a sinister satisfaction evident in his dark eyes. As you go through your nightly routine, diligently applying the creams and lotions to your face, his presence feels like an unwelcome intrusion. Every motion, every touch of your hand, draws his attention like a predator observing its prey. The subtle satisfaction in Sukuna's expression is unsettling, his amusement at your compliance apparent. His presence, like an invisible weight, hung in the air. He watched as you massaged your temples, seeking solace in the simple act of self-care, unaware of the twisted pleasure it brought to him. His enjoyment at your satisfaction, at the contented hums that escaped your lips, bordered on sadistic
He felt his pants tighten. He watched as your previously distracted gaze raised to meet his giant figure sprawled out comfortably in your temporary bed. He grinned at the sudden shriek you let out. “Making yourself at home?”
“What are you doing here?” 
“Greeting my guest, what else?”
You clench your jaw, refusing to meet his gaze directly. His predatory eyes continue to roam over your body, making you feel exposed, vulnerable. The weight of his gaze feels suffocating, as if he is stripping you bare with his eyes alone.
It took you two heartbeats to realize that you basically were. You did not wear a bra or underwear because the closet had everything but the necessities to hide your freshly hardened nipples. It was all intentional . So here you were, in front of your captor, commando mode. You quickly throw your wet hair over your chest, trying your best to cover what the man had already seen. 
Sukuna's grin widens, stretching across his face, revealing a set of teeth that adds an unsettling edge to the situation. With a self-assured air, he lifts his hand, running it through his tousled pink hair in a seemingly nonchalant gesture. The action draws your attention, momentarily diverting your thoughts from the impending doom that surrounded you.
In a startling display of confidence, he pats the space next to him, beckoning you to draw closer. “Come here.”
Your affronted scoff breaks the tension in the room for a moment, a flicker of defiance shining through your fear. Despite the overwhelming sense of vulnerability, you refused to cower before him.
"I am not coming anywhere near you," you assert firmly, your voice carrying a mixture of determination and apprehension. The words spill from your lips before you could control it.
For a brief moment, the atmosphere seems to shift, the balance of power momentarily wavering between you and Sukuna. His grin falters ever so slightly, a glimmer of surprise flitting across his dark eyes. It's clear that he's not used to defiance, to someone resisting his commands.
Yet, despite the daring response you've mustered, you remain acutely aware of the danger that surrounds you. Sukuna's unpredictability leaves you on edge, uncertain of how he might react to your refusal.
"Not even on my face?" He pouted mockingly before his tone became menacing. “You don’t have a lot of options right now, doll. Come here.”
Doll.  
You repressed a shiver and weighed your options. Which were basically none. Running for the door holds little promise, as you suspect it's likely locked, effectively trapping you within this nightmarish space. Seeking refuge in the bathroom offers no solace either, as the man before you seems all too capable of bypassing such simple barriers.
Your mind races, searching desperately for a glimmer of hope. Yet, the room felt like a claustrophobic cage, suffocating and closing in on you. Fear and desperation intertwine, clouding your judgment as you grapple with the limited options before you. 
To choose him is to relinquish your autonomy, to place yourself at his mercy. Submitting to his control means opening yourself up to the unknown. However it is clear what you needed to do. 
With a heavy sigh, you find yourself moving closer to Sukuna. You were a butterfly drawn into the intricate web spun by a spider. Too distracted by the beauty to recognize the threat until it was too late. The trepidation lingers, your heart heavy with a mix of resignation and defiance. It was a compromise. 
Simple action. Simple defiance that consequently had your head against Sukuna's shoulder and his fingers in your pussy. 
- - - - - - -
"You gonna do it again?"
"N-no."
"Say sorry." He emphasizes the word by a particularly hard thrust of his long fingers.
"I’m - Please !"
“What is it?”
“I’m so- SUKUNA!” 
His name on your tongue sounded like a lullaby.
“You’re not telling me anything, princess.”
His fingers curl inside you, hitting a spot so deep you didn't even think it was possible. Your mouth is parted in a silent gasp and your back arched against his broad chest. He was still dressed whilst you sat in his lap as naked as the day you were born. Your stained silk pajamas long forgotten on the marble floor. His other hand slides up from holding your thigh open to tracing a path between the valley of your breasts and wrapping around your throat. Your sudden whimper at the grip had Sukuna chuckling half-heartedly. His body was hot against your skin. You could feel the taut muscles against your back. 
You could feel every rising breath. 
His amusement ended with an involuntary groan when you clenched around him. “You like that? Huh? Fucking whore.”
You shake your head to deny it. But to your surprise you feel your release building. You feel yourself clench at his fingers
“ Feels good, doesn’t it?”
You had to stop him. This was so wrong. For so many reasons. He had taken everything from you, ripped you out of your little bubble for his own selfish reasons- You had to stop him. And as your hands grip his wrist, his thumb lands on your clit. You absolutely keened at the contact, feeling your legs tremble. But it felt so good.  
“You’re so fucking wet. Makin’ a mess all over my clothes. C’mon, say sorry and I'll let you cum.” 
The sounds of his fingers thrusting into you were loud in the otherwise silent room. Wrong. It was all so wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this. It was too much for you to handle. 
“You hear that? Your pretty little cunt just taking it all in. All for me.”
You try to bury your face in his neck but his grip on your throat tightens. You were getting close. Your vision was becoming hazy from pleasure but you don’t dare tell him out of fear that he’d deny it for his own sick enjoyment. 
You were basically burning. It’s right there. You were close. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he continued the relentless attack on your pussy, plunging, twisting, curling... You were so close, you could feel it. You could just feel yourself pulsing and gushing all over his fingers. You were a mess. Moaning, whimpering, whining in Sukuna’s ear. 
His grip on your neck loosened and you found yourself biting onto the point between his shoulders and neck. His jaw was clenched and lips parted in concentration. 
“Say sorry,” he grunted, feeling you clench and tremble. “Say it.”
He wanted to give it to you so bad but you were defiant. Tight-lipped. Miserable. A mess. His erection is prominent against your leg, the giant bulge brushing against your lower back as your body jerked and grinded against his fingers. 
“Don’t you wanna cum?”
You don't answer, feeling it coiling in your stomach. But then Sukuna was pulling out his fingers, refusing to give you what he wanted. No, no, no, no, n-
“You think, I can't tell when you’re about to cum?” He breathed against your ear, breathing hard, the tip of his nose brushing against your cheek. Then he raised his head and looked down at you, pupils blown wide with lust. “Grinding on my fingers like that, you want it, don’t you?”
You nodded too fast. 
He smirked, his hand fell from your throat, brushing against your nipple. Asshole. “Say the magic word.”
“Sorry,” you gasped out not realizing that you had been holding onto your breath. “‘M sorry.”
He seemed satisfied. With your apology, in mind he went back to work with a newfound energy. He pinched your nipples, earning a high-pitched moan from you, before switching over to the other one whilst his other hand traced along the already damp and swollen lips. Your legs widened shifting in his lap, looking for the friction you craved, hoping he’d take the hint just this once.
 “You’re all wet and creamy. Fucking leaking all over me.”
You moaned at his words and you both groaned when his fingers finally, finally, slipped inside you. The sound that left his mouth did something to you that even his fingers couldn’t. A shiver runs down your spine, and soon enough you are arching against him. 
“A-ah, I’m clo- O-oh.” 
“Yeah? I feel you pulsing, doll, so fucking tight. Look at that, such a pretty and perfect cunt. I bet you’ll look so good riding my dick, c’mon, baby. Cum.”
Three more strokes and a thumb circling your clit, you were soon experiencing the most earth shattering orgasm ever. His soft hair brushed against your face as you leaned back against his shoulder, your pussy convulsing around his fingers from the aftermath. Your legs trembled. After making sure there was nothing more left, Sukuna pulled his fingers out and licked them swiftly. 
You watched him still breathless, still shocked at what had just happened. 
"You sound good when you apologize," Sukuna teased before he was sliding you off and leaving through the door he had come from. His pants still stained with your cum. 
What the fuck? 
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a/n: literally my first time writing smut hehe. lemme know how I did!
honestly I don't even think I had a plot in mind when I started writing but I wanted mafia sukuna so bad 😭😭😭
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toruslvt · 1 month
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  ִֶָ casualties ↪ part two of mafia boss sukuna.
⋆ mdni. semi public ( public place but no people around ) unprotected sex, mentions of guns and bribes, keep in mind he is literally a gangster, none of his behaviors are ‘normal’, mirror sex, slight stalking ( sending people to investigate you ), breeding kink and creampies, pet names used: princess, doll, my girl/love, sweetheart.
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after your first encounter, it only took the man a flick of his wrist and your whole life was settled in a stack of papers on his coffee table, smirk tugging on the corner of his lip and a cigarette tightly held on his free hand. your address was the easiest part, with your father being an important member of the mafia, it was only normal for his men to get the direction in the blink of an eye, perfectly in time for Sukuna to start sending large bouquets of flowers with an unknown sender, although his scent was present on each petal, just for you to admire and your father to frown.
it was not too much work either to find your birthday, friends and places you often visit, after all you were a public figure as well, —that and a couple of bribes to your acquaintances it’s all it took.
the store of a luxury clothing brand stood in front of his car, tinted glasses concealing Sukuna’s half hooded eyes and knowing smirk, of course the princess would only shop at the most expensive places, perhaps using daddy’s black card. it’d be a lie if Sukuna said his cock didn’t throb at the idea of you using his black card next, to your heart’s content.
the pink haired man was not one to follow his impulses, to him everything was premeditated, carefully studied so things went smoothly like the fat wad of bills slipping into the retail’s clerk pocket, and much similar to the subtleness in his men’s loaded guns pressed against your bodyguards sides, who trembled in fear, so pathetic.
“tsk” Sukuna thinks, “i should get better guards for my girl” with a swift movement he fixes his cuffs, straightening the jacket suit and matching black half buttoned shirt underneath, allowing his tattoos to be seen.
and it takes his whole self control in not opening the dressing room door where he knows, you’re in, and sloppily make out with you, pants tightening at the memory of your fucked out and dizzy expression. fuck, he’s so hard already. but instead optes to sit on the large leather couch in the middle of the VIP space, his eyes scanning the quietness and luxury in ceiling high mirrors and marble floors.
“what are you doing here?” you ask, finally stepping out of from behind the wooden door and attempting not to let your surprise be seen, but considering the slight twitch in Sukuna’s lip, your attempts probably failed.
“it’s good to see you too, doll.” he almost purrs, eyes drifting up and down the sight of your body in a tight dress, “won’t you turn around for me?” he teases, licking his lips.
yet you remain still, raising a brow and crossing your arms, taking a peek at the now empty room.
“come on, sweetheart, just one turn, for me?” Sukuna grins, sliding a thumb over his bottom lip, “i’ll answer all your questions later” and you’re pliant enough to comply, twirling around with a slight burn in your face, questioning him once again.
his grin never falters, only increasing with your cute actions, deciding to stand up and calmly walk towards the clothing rack, humming in delight at the beautiful garments that would look absolutely stunning on his bedroom floor, “can’t a man shop freely now?” he teases, handing you a matching skirt and top set in an oddly similar color to his hair.
“yeah? i had no idea you liked to shop at an all women’s store” you tease back, allowing for Sukuna to rest his hand on your waist, his whole self made you weak in the knees, a whiff of his cologne and you wanted more.
he chuckles, deeply and rumbling on his chest, making you bite back a whine as his hand guides you to the dressing room, his voice dropping to an intimate level, yet he still bends down to breath against your ear, “then, would you believe me if I said I wanted to see you?” Sukuna whispers, pressing his lips against your nape; you’re not certain of what moment he made you get into the room and close the door softly behind him, only your reflection in the mirror bringing you back to reality, “you’re awfully hard to find, sweetheart” hands trail down your sides, squeezing the sides of your breasts just slightly, “has your daddy been keeping you away from me? did he find out about the lewd things I did to his precious daughter?”
you can’t help the soft moan off your lips at the sensation of the man’s bulge pressing on your lower back, the sight of his large, filled with rings and tattooed hands cupping your body made you dizzy, Sukuna having to bend down to easily nip on your nape, and gently brush your hair out of the way.
“he doesn’t know”
“he doesn’t?, that’s a pity, i’d love to see his reaction when he finds out i’m the one making you this wet and pliant” he chuckles, fingers dancing around the slit on the dress, so sensually your knees bucked, threatening to make you fall if it weren’t because of his arm around your waist.
you whine, “don’t... say that”
“it’s the truth, princess, there’s nothing else I want than having the world know you’re mine” Sukuna groans, raising the hem of your dress and maintaining it tightly under his arm, his other free hand gently cupping your jaw, tilting your head up so you meet his gaze through the mirror, “eyes on me, watch who’s making you feel this good”
with a last nibble on your neck, Sukuna roughly pushes your panties down, not wasting any time in sliding his digits through your drenched slit, coating your clit in your own scent. he’s rock hard at this point, breath coming out ragged in sheer desperation to be buried in your cunt, besides from the lewd picture you paint in the mirror, eyes glossy, lips parted and letting out the cutest sounds he has ever heard.
another trait of Sukuna, is that he’s not patient, in the slightest, so when a finger urgently slips inside your warm walls you shudder in response, hips bucking, almost flopping forward by the tremble in your legs, “good girl, so wet for me” he rasps, licking a fat strip down your neck and towards your shoulder, maintaining eye contact like his life depends on it.
“more...” you beg and his resolve crumbles, his initial plan of making you shiver and beg quickly by wanting to give you what you need, you make him go dizzy, you make him want to give you whoever you ask for, kiss the floor where you step.
“my greedy girl” Sukuna groans, rubbing his cheek with yours as another finger plunges in, messily fucking your hole that drips slick down his wrist, then another until your nails dig in his arm, “you’re ready for me, aren't you?” his voice is low and raspy, hidden lust behind each gasp. Sukuna is quick to undo his pants, cock bobbing in arousal, already dripping with precum as he guides the tip to your pussy, slowly sinking in with his breath hitching, “there we go”
if you weren’t looking at him, Sukuna would be very certain his rolls could have rolled back at the wetness and tightness of your cunt swallowing him inch by inch, his cock pulsing, “fuck, princess, it’s as good as I remember” he licks his lips, tightening his grip on your waist and slightly bending you further in the air.
“your body is begging for it, I can feel your count spasming around me” he smiles, thrusting in deeper, harder, making you take more of his incredible length until his heavy and full balls are nestled on your ass.
“’Kuna...!” you mewl, eyes hooded, threatening to fall shut but the explicit sight of Sukuna filling your hole made you resist, only fueling your desire and lust.
“yes, sweetheart, that’s right, it’s Sukuna the one making your pussy feel so good” he groans, hands grazing your sides in a tight grip before pulling back and forcefully slamming his cock inside, heart racing at the sound of your moans and sticky pussy squelching around his girth.
“o—ohh! fuck!” you moan, half scream at the rough pace Sukuna sets, forcing your body to jolt back and forth, tits about to fall from the low neckline of the expensive dress you tried on, you definitely had to buy it now, “too deep!
he groans in return, “the deeper the better” voice is slightly shaky, “i can reach your cervix properly” it’s a promise, to fill your fertile womb once again like he did weeks ago.
there’s sobs and moans echoing in the room, mixed with the sounds of your mixed juices, and Sukuna is only fueled by them, his hips pounding faster, most definitely leaving your ass sore from the brutal way his balls and hips slam against your soft skin. he holds no respect for your possible future uncomfortableness, only thinking of claiming your cunt.
“i’m close” Sukuna groans, sliding a hand between your drenched legs, pressing two fingers against your clit and messily rubbing in desperate circles, slightly embarrassed of the fact you’re going to make him cum so much and so soon, but how can you blame him when your pussy squeezes him like a tight grip, as if begging him for more.
leaning down he claims your lips, it’s as sloppy as his thrusts and wet as your slick dripping down his cock, “need you to cum with me” he murmurs.
“close!” you manage to cry out against his mouth, only for a brief second before his tongue plunges into your mouth again, swallowing your sounds but allowing the noise of your pussy to resonate, “oh, S-sukuna! i’m cumming” you cry, and there’s the precious and slutty expression he loves so much, eyes crossed as you shudder on his cock, trembling so much he would have been afraid you’d fall, but Sukuna is quicker, selfishly keeping you up to shoot his thick sperm deep in your willing pussy, a deep growl rumbling on the walls as he pumps you, a couple of times so he’s sure his cum would take.
“so gorgeous” he rasps, breathless, meeting your hazy eyes through the mirror while mindlessly rubbing your belly, “i’ll take care of you, my love, i’ll give you whatever your heart desires..., but in return, I just ask for one thing” he murmurs, “let me creampie your tight pussy every single day.”
that’s certainly Sukuna’s own way of asking you out.
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🔖𖹭 @yuujispinkhair @valleydoli @hyeinwluv85s @sadmonke @ryomance @inzanekillian @emilymikado @r-ryuko09
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devillexi · 11 months
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Yandere Hubbies: Sukuna Ryomen💋
Warning: Smut, dacryphilia, yandere themes, toxic, etc.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who works as an underground mafia leader and keeps you in the dark about what he does.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna whose brutality and madness is known throughout the entire underground and revered as the "Mafia King" or "Mad Dog Mafia".
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who often returns home late at night, covered in blood, while you're fast asleep. He washes himself up and slips in beside you, bringing your warm body up against his freshly showered chest.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who wakes up to you snuggling up to his chest because you're happy he's home. He instead sees an opportunity to catch up on all the lovemaking you guys haven't been doing.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who fucks you roughly, his thrusts so powerful that they knock the wind out of you. He bites and marks your skin with hickies and bruises.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who likes to fuck you until your mind goes blank and your eyes see stars. He lives to make your pussy so sore that no other man can ever match up to him.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who will yank you back to take his cock if you run away. He'll whisper harshly into your ear that you should never run away from his loving and that you'll take him until his cock is spent.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who likes to see you cry as you take his dick. His fingers tenderly caress and wipe your tears away but his cock continues to ravage your cunt. He never relents and your tears stain your cheeks as you moan helplessly.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who only shows you tenderness and care, but his victims see a whole other side of him that you will never see.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who has always been a merciless killer. A sick, murderous bastard whose methods are borderline cruel and inhumane. Police often find his victims mangled and so unrecognizable that police are left to play guessing games with the victim's identity based on who went missing and who crossed his path. Majority go unnamed and are often referred to as
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who gives victims a special type of treatment when they mess with you. All the other shitheads and company bastards get the same treatment of dying an almost painless death, though even that often depends on his mood. But slimey creeps who mess with his poor wife get tortured, castrated, eaten alive, or sent to his own little lab chambers where he commits the most inhumane experiments known to man, all to sate his sick curiosities and appease his anger.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who often shirks his own duties to spend time with you. Being an underground mafia boss is exhausting work and he'd much rather spend his time inside you than dealing with old heads, new heads, and potential victims.
Yandere Hubby Sukuna who lays in bed, wide awake, and turns his gaze over your sleeping form, his obsession and possessiveness gripping him like an iron fist as he eyed the new marks he left on you. He often thinks about what he'd do if you ever left him, but those thoughts are the one thing the "Mad Dog" couldn't handle.
((Quick question! Should I do Mahito or Choso next? Tell me some more JJK men I should do.))
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xxaraaq · 5 months
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𝙎𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝘽𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨
masterlist
Sypnosis | You had worked you ass off to build up your... distinguished business. When a powerful and crazy man strikes up a deal you can't refuse, how will your relationship with him flower?
wc | 2.05 k
cw | Toxicity, death threats ig, office sex, talks about drugs and other illegal activities, unprotected sex, etc.
Brothel owner! Reader x Mafia boss! Sukuna
A/N | Hey yall. Ik i havent posted anything in a while but I hope this makes up for it. It's lowkey nasty so have fun with that.
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You worked hard to get where you were. You kissed more asses than you could count, laughed at stupid men's jokes to feed their fragile egos, and laid down in satin sheets with people you wish you could strangle while they slept. 
But you had made it, and now you were thriving.
You had finally gotten your own establishment with hundreds of beautiful women to please the money right out the men that visit them once their families rest for the night, it was a truly booming business. And you treated your girls right, with ample security and consistent checking for anything out of the ordinary. So many came flocking to you, you had to turn them down. And it hurt your heart seeing good profit like that walk away, but you had a standard you had to keep. Too many girls means not enough space, and that’s where it starts to get messy.
But you have your assistant, Toji Fushiguro to help out. He was all the muscles and glares to keep any unwanted company away, but sexy enough to keep the women occupied with their daily eye candy. It also helps that he’s as obedient as a dog and obsessed with you. You tell him all the troubles you go through, and he listens with a hum, massaging the knots out your shoulder as you groan in relief. And you appreciate it, letting his rough hands roam your body as you spread your legs. It was a fair exchange, and it was easy. Practically everything was.
Until he came.
You knew who he was – everyone did. And everyone knew that death followed him everywhere he went. They called him crazy, cruel, and cynical. You just thought he was an excellent businessman. You didn’t want him knocking at your doorstep, but you couldn’t help but respect his ways. He worked in a way that people feared and respected him. It amazed you if you were being honest, for not many men could do what he does how he does it.
He came to you with a deal. You hide drugs and counterfeit money for him, he supplies you with free men for security and any pardon you want from the police. It was a fair exchange, and you knew you couldn’t reject it anyways. So you shook on it and told your managers to round up all the girls to tell them as well.
It started out as strictly business. Short, muted phone calls about when the next shipments would arrive. Then for some reason, you wound up with his personal numbers. You declined at first thinking it was beginning to get friendly, but he brushed you off, saying that it was merely a way to keep in better contact. You knew where he was trying to head with you, but you were a curious person, and you wanted to see where this headed.
He started showing up more, through the back door of course. He would interrupt your business meetings with a care in the world, and you would have to deal with it, dismissing your employees while he stood stoic and tall, as if he was a cheeky kid proud that he got his way. 
“You can’t keep bursting into my room in the middle of the evening. People will think you like me.” You say, eyes peering at him as he walks towards you. “Since when have you cared about what people thought of you? If I remember correctly, you’re the owner of a brothel.” He sneers, talking to you as if you’re below him. You’re eyebrow quirks, picking up on his attitude. “Don’t put words in my mouth Sukuna, I didn’t say I cared about what people thought of me. I said, what will people think of you if you keep acting like I'm your mistress.” You spat, face wrinkling up in annoyance. His glare at your tone did nothing but make your cunt throb, but he wouldn’t know that, not until he fucked you at least.
“You are my mistress, or have you forgotten the meaning? He says, standing between your legs. You looked up at him with a gaze full of hatred, and he smirked at that. You did hate him, truly. But you couldn’t deny that he made you feel like no other, no matter how many people you’ve slept with. “What do you want?” Your eyes meet his as you stand up. He grabs your waist with a borderline painful grip. Something must be wrong, for he’s never held you this tight. “One of my men, a very truthful man, told me that he saw you with Gojo a week ago. Is he lying?” And it was. He wasn’t the only man you entertained, he just happened to be the best. You weren’t a sex worker yourself, but you liked to endeavor in sleeping with powerful men. It was a game to you, and you love seeing them come back for more. It was an addiction, and you were an addict.
“You’re not the only strong man in my life, y'know. You’re not as special as you think.” You caressed his chin, jawline sharp and newly grown stubble coming about. “Yeah, and who else do you fuck when I’m not here, hmm?” He questioned, looking down at you as you play with his tie. “I mean, obviously there’s Gojo. Then you have Suguru, they’re like two peas in a pod,” You laugh, “They’re great when they’re apart, but those boys are such a tease when I get them together.” You can see him get more agitated by the second, and it just spurs you on more. “I also fuck Toji on occasion, seeing as he’s the one most available. Really reliable, that one.” You smile to yourself, hands moving up to his hair. “There are more, but those are the ones I remember the most.” You tease, feeling your ribcage ache as he squeezes harder. He probably doesn’t even notice himself doing it, and that reason alone makes you grin. “You got anyone else to add to your list of clients?” He asks. It strikes a nerve, and you push yourself away from him. “Don't speak to me as if I’m a prostitute.” You snide, chest contracting in anger. “Aren’t you though? I mean, you fuck people for money, you dress clad in what? A dress that your boobs are bound to spill out of? In all ways besides actual, you’re no better than the girls you employ.” He says, sitting down in your chair.
If you could kill him right now you would. But even through anger, you’re not stupid. So you relax your face and stride over to him all so calmly, like he never degraded with such harsh words. “Is my boy mad because he feels like he’s being replaced?” You taunt, voice going up an octave. You sit in his lap like you’ve done it one thousand times before. His hands come up to your waist like second nature, and you lean in to whisper in his ear. “Well you are, so if I were you I would do something about it instead a throwing a conniption fit over the other men I fuck when you’re not here.”  
He pulls you back by your hair, smashing his lips into yours. You moan into him, grinding against his clothed cock. He lifts you up into the air, swiping all the contents off your desk. “That shits important you fucking idiot.” You curse, unzipping his pants. “Stop acting like you don’t have the means to replace it. 
He was right, but that’s not the point. 
You lift your hips up for easier access as he rips your underwear clean off. He stuffs it in your mouth flipping you over before you can react. You brace yourself on your forearms as he drops to his knees, lifting your dress off your ass, spitting a glob of saliva onto your already soaked pussy. “You’re one crazy bitch, you know that? Getting all wet for me as I demean all you’ve done to get where you are.” He snides, running his thick cock over your hole. You want to chide back, but you're breathless as he thrusts into you. The desk shakes as he ruts into you from behind. Your arm mindlessly reaches for his, grasping onto his bicep. He pins it to your back, leaning closer to your ear. “You had all this to say about me acting like a baby, but you’re crying and babbling like one. I remember you saying you hated hypocrites. Where’d all the fucking atitude go now?” He kisses you back, biting after. You shudder at the pain as the force almost breaks the skin; but a deranged, primal part of you wanted him to do it again until he did. 
He flips you on your back, clasping your thighs to pull you closer. “Keep em’ up.” He grunts, rubbing your clit in big, slow circles. You pull your legs up to your chest, spreading them wide to give him a view. He chuckles, slapping his dick on your now swollen cunt. “What would the girls downstairs do if they saw their beloved madam get spread on her desk like a used slut?” He asks, kissing his way from your ankle to the front of your foot. “What would your wife say if she saw you fucking me like a ‘used slut’.” He full on laughs at your remark, slowly pushing himself back to chastise you for your slick mouth. “If you’re gonna fuck me, then do it right.” You say, grinding your hips in search of friction. “Oh?” He hums, head nodding to the side in mock confusion. 
You don’t get another word in before he fucks back into you, harder than ever before. “Ohhh shittt.” You mewl, head throwing back by the sheer power of his thrusts. He grabs the nape of your neck, pulling your forward to look into your eyes as he gives you the best fuck of your life. “You got something to say baby? I can’t hear you over your pussy y’know. You’re gonna have to speak louder.” You could say he’s tormenting you at this point. And you hated to say that you loved it. “C-cum in meee.” You moan, eyes rolling to the back of your skull. “You said what? I can't hear you baby, ya’ gonna have to speak louder than that.” He banters back and forth, thrusting getting sloppier as his core tightens too. “I s-said I want you to c-umm in mee.” You sob, tears streaming down your face. “You forgot the magic word princess.” He runs on, poking at you to set you off. ���I’ll fucking kill you you son of a bitch.” You curse, reaching up to pull him towards you. You smash his face into yours as the band in your core snaps. “Fuckkkkkkk.” You wail, legs shaking as you ride out your orgasm. Sukuna follows right after you, shooting hot spurts of cum into you as his groans fill the rooms. All you hear is heavy breaths as he collapses on top of you, sweat and slick covering both of your thighs and torso. 
You draw shapes on his broad back as he rests between your legs. “If you ever sleep with Gojo again, I’ll kill the both of you.” He says, standing back up. You knew he was being serious, but you liked to press his buttons. “I’ll invite him over the next time you come then. You’ll learn how to share better that way.” You roll your eyes, closing your now aching legs. He sucks his teeth, fixing himself as you do the same. “Your mouth will be the reason someone kills you one day.” He says to himself, shaking his head with a snarky smirk gracing his face. 
You walk towards him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “That day will not be today, and that person will not be you. Count on it.” You whisper, pecking his lips. He will never cease to be shocked by your articulation. “Now get out.” You command, straightening yourself out in your compact mirror.
He might fuck you like a dumb whore, but he’ll always know that you’ll always beat him at his own game.
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-Nene
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