Vampire-Cowboy!Sukuna x preacher's daughter reader
Synopsis: In a town built on faith, the arrival of three strangers brings whispers of blood, disappearance, and something far worse lurking beneath the surface. Drawn to a man she cannot understand, the preacher’s daughter finds herself caught between light and darkness, until the truth reveals itself, and everything begins to fall apart.
Cw: Vampire-Wild West Au, gothic horror, religious themes, fem reader, blood, violence, character death, misogyny, power imbalance, coercion, unwanted advances, emotional distress, public humiliation, disturbing themes, folklore horror, mentioned infanticide, hurt/comfort, angst, survival horror, faith crisis, captivity, verbal abuse, religious guilt
Masterlist
Chapter 1: A Town without Morning
Chapter 2: Wait
Chapter 3: Grieving the Living
Chapter 4: Ghost Stories
Chapter 5: Moonlight
Chapter 6: Dancing with Death
Chapter 7: Book of Revelation
Chapter 8: The Valley of Shadows
Chapter 9: Forsaken
Chapter 10: to be announced...
Chapter 11: to be announced...
Chapter 12: to be announced...
Chapter 13: to be announced...
Chapter 14: to be announced...
Chapter 15: to be announced...
Special chapter: Of Blood and Old Magic (Vampire-Cowboy Toji & Choso x witch!reader based a few years before the main events)
Note: More warnings to be added as the story progresses. Chapters may vary depending on how I write things.
She was twenty, serving whiskey at a company dinner. He was forty-three, divorced, guarded, and far too old to be looking at her the way he did. One reckless night was supposed to be the end of it. Instead, it became the beginning of an unusual romance neither of them knew how to explain—and neither of them was willing to walk away from.
Three months after Yuuji asked whether the two of you planned to get married, Sukuna began acting strange.
Not obviously strange.
Not to anyone who did not know him.
To the rest of the world, Ryomen Sukuna remained exactly the same: composed, impatient, impossible to impress, and irritated by almost everyone he encountered. He still worked late when projects demanded it. He still complained about meetings that could have been emails. He still glared at the neighbors whenever they left their trash bins too close to the edge of his driveway.
But you knew him.
You knew every version of his silence.
The one that meant he was concentrating.
The one that meant he was annoyed.
The one that meant he had heard something stupid and was deciding whether correcting it was worth his time.
This was a new silence.
Careful.
Distracted.
Suspicious.
At first, you assumed it was work.
He had recently accepted a new project involving the restoration of an old historic theater downtown. The original structure was beautiful but neglected, and Sukuna had spent weeks complaining that the previous renovation team had “committed crimes against proportion.”
You expected him to become absorbed.
Instead, he began hiding his phone.
Not dramatically.
He did not snatch it away when you entered a room or change the password. He simply turned the screen facedown more often than usual. If a message arrived while you were sitting beside him, he read it quickly and slipped the phone into his pocket.
The first time, you ignored it.
The third time, you stared.
Sukuna glanced toward you.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re looking at me strangely.”
“So are you.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’ve been weird.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I’m always like this.”
“No. You’re different weird.”
He looked back at his laptop. “You sound paranoid.”
“You sound guilty.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“That is exactly what a guilty person says.”
Sukuna clicked something on the screen and pretended the conversation had ended.
You leaned across the couch.
“Who keeps texting you?”
“People.”
“What people?”
“Work people.”
“Work people have names.”
“They do.”
You waited.
Sukuna continued reading.
“You’re not going to tell me?”
“No.”
Your mouth fell open.
Normally, Sukuna would have given you a name just to end the questioning. A client. An engineer. Ren. Yuuji. Someone he disliked for a reason he considered obvious.
This time, he simply refused.
You narrowed your eyes.
“Are you having an affair?”
His head turned so slowly that you immediately regretted the joke.
“What?”
“I’m kidding.”
“You think I’d tolerate another person?”
“No.”
“I barely tolerate you.”
“That’s rude.”
“You’re the maximum number of people I’m willing to come home to.”
Your expression softened despite yourself.
“That was almost romantic.”
“It was an insult.”
“It failed.”
Sukuna looked away, but you caught the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth.
The phone buzzed again.
He took one look at the screen and stood.
You watched him walk toward his office.
“Where are you going?”
“Work.”
“You were working here.”
“I changed my mind.”
He disappeared behind the glass doors and closed them.
You sat on the couch staring after him.
Definitely suspicious.
His behavior became worse over the next two weeks.
He left the house without explaining where he was going.
This was rare enough to be alarming.
Sukuna worked from home, ordered most things online, and considered unnecessary errands a personal failure of planning. If he went somewhere, he told you where, usually while complaining about it.
Now he simply took his keys.
The first time, you looked up from the dining table.
“Where are you going?”
“Out.”
You blinked.
“Out where?”
“To do something.”
“What something?”
“Something you don’t need to know about.”
You stared at him.
He stared back.
“That sounds terrible,” you said.
“It isn’t.”
“Are you joining a cult?”
“No.”
“Committing tax fraud?”
“No.”
“Buying another car?”
“No.”
“Then where are you going?”
Sukuna opened the front door.
“I’ll be back.”
“That was not an answer.”
The door shut behind him.
You sat alone at the table, deeply offended.
When he returned two hours later, he carried nothing.
You checked.
No shopping bag.
No folder.
No food.
Nothing.
He kissed the top of your head as he passed.
You caught his wrist.
“Where were you?”
“Out.”
“You already used that answer.”
“It’s still accurate.”
“Sukuna.”
“What?”
“You’re hiding something.”
His expression remained calm.
“Yes.”
Your eyes widened.
He removed your hand from his wrist, kissed your palm, and continued toward the kitchen.
You followed him.
“You admit it?”
“Yes.”
“What is it?”
“Something.”
“That is not helpful.”
“It isn’t supposed to be.”
You crossed your arms.
“What if I hate surprises?”
“You don’t.”
“What if I’ve changed?”
“You haven’t.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I know you.”
The confidence in his voice should have comforted you.
Instead, it made you even more curious.
You began searching for clues.
Not seriously.
Mostly.
You checked the office trash once while carrying out the bin, though all you found were discarded sketches and several notes insulting a contractor’s measurements.
You inspected his jacket pockets before taking it to the cleaners.
Receipts.
Keys.
A mint.
Nothing useful.
You even asked Yuuji.
He had come over for dinner one Thursday and was helping you set the table while Sukuna cooked.
You lowered your voice.
“Is your uncle acting strange to you?”
Yuuji glanced toward the kitchen.
Sukuna stood at the stove with his back turned.
“Strange how?”
“Secretive.”
Yuuji’s face became suspiciously blank.
You stopped arranging silverware.
“You know something.”
“No.”
“You answered too quickly.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Yuuji picked up a plate and studied it as though tableware had suddenly become fascinating.
“I don’t know anything.”
“You are a terrible liar.”
“Runs in the family.”
Sukuna turned from the stove.
“What are you two whispering about?”
“Nothing,” Yuuji said.
You pointed at him.
“He knows.”
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed toward his nephew.
Yuuji lifted both hands.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You looked guilty.”
“I have an expressive face.”
Sukuna stared at him.
Yuuji looked at you.
Then back at Sukuna.
“I should probably leave after dinner.”
“You should leave now,” Sukuna said.
You gasped.
“He just got here.”
“He’s become irritating.”
Yuuji grinned.
“That means I’m right.”
Sukuna picked up a wooden spoon.
Yuuji immediately moved behind you.
“You wouldn’t hit your favorite nephew.”
“You’re my only nephew.”
“Still counts.”
You laughed, but the exchange confirmed what you already suspected.
Yuuji knew.
That night, you confronted Sukuna in bed.
He lay on his back reading, glasses low on his nose. You sat beside him with your arms crossed.
He turned a page.
“You’re blocking the lamp.”
“Good.”
He looked toward you.
“What?”
“You and Yuuji are hiding something.”
“No.”
“He looked terrified.”
“That’s normal around me.”
“Sukuna.”
He returned to the book.
You reached over and took it from his hands.
His eyes narrowed.
“That was rude.”
“So is keeping secrets.”
“I’m allowed to have privacy.”
“You’re not allowed to recruit your nephew into it.”
“I didn’t recruit him.”
“So he is involved.”
Sukuna closed his eyes briefly.
You smiled in triumph.
“I knew it.”
“You know nothing.”
“I know there is something.”
“There is always something.”
“You are exhausting.”
“And yet.”
He reached for the book.
You held it farther away.
“Sukuna.”
“What?”
“Is it bad?”
The question changed his expression.
The irritation faded.
He sat up slightly.
“No.”
“You promise?”
“Yes.”
“Is it about us?”
His silence answered.
Your chest tightened.
Not with fear exactly.
With anticipation.
You thought of the conversation in the kitchen three months earlier.
The ring on your finger.
The way he had said he could see you as his wife.
Sukuna watched understanding begin to form across your face.
He reached over and took the book from you.
“Stop.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You’re thinking too loudly.”
“Is it—”
He put one hand over your mouth.
You stared at him.
“If you ask,” he said, “I’ll deny it.”
You pulled his hand away.
“You’re impossible.”
“Yes.”
“You have a plan.”
“Go to sleep.”
“You do.”
Sukuna turned off the lamp.
Darkness filled the room.
You remained sitting upright.
“Sukuna.”
He reached for your waist, pulled you down beside him, and tucked you against his chest.
“You have work tomorrow.”
“So do you.”
“I’m not the one interrogating people at midnight.”
You rested your cheek against him.
His hand moved slowly through your curls.
“You’re acting really strange,” you murmured.
“I know.”
“That means it’s important.”
His arm tightened around you.
“Go to sleep.”
You smiled in the dark.
He did not deny it.
The final clue arrived on a Saturday morning.
Sukuna told you to be ready by six.
Not where you were going.
Not what you should wear.
Only that you needed to be ready.
You stood in the bedroom doorway holding two dresses.
“What kind of ready?”
He was adjusting his watch in front of the mirror.
“Dressed.”
“That is not helpful.”
“It’s enough.”
“Casual?”
“No.”
“Formal?”
“Not too formal.”
You held up the black dress.
“This?”
He looked at it.
“No.”
“The green one?”
“No.”
“You dislike both?”
“I like both.”
“Then why no?”
He opened the closet and pushed several hangers aside.
Then he pulled out a dress you had nearly forgotten you owned.
Deep red.
Soft fabric.
Fitted through the waist with a neckline that framed your collarbones.
You had worn it once to a gallery event.
Sukuna handed it to you.
“This.”
You looked at the dress.
Then at him.
“Why?”
“It looks good.”
“That has never stopped you from letting me choose my own clothes.”
“You take too long.”
“You chose your outfit before I woke up.”
“I’m efficient.”
He wore black, of course.
Black button-down.
Dark trousers.
The Rolex.
His hair carefully styled in a way he would insist required no effort.
You narrowed your eyes.
“Are we going somewhere expensive?”
“Yes.”
“Dinner?”
“Eventually.”
“Eventually?”
Sukuna walked past you.
“Six.”
You stared after him.
By five forty-five, you were ready.
Your brown ringlets fell down your back, glossy and carefully shaped. You had chosen soft makeup with a deeper lip color to match the dress. Gold jewelry rested at your throat and wrists.
The ring Sukuna had given you years earlier sat on your right hand.
You considered removing it.
You did not know why.
The idea made your heart beat faster.
Sukuna waited downstairs.
When you reached the bottom step, he looked up.
His gaze moved slowly over you.
The same way it had the first night you met.
The same way it still did whenever you dressed for him.
“You chose well,” you said.
“I know.”
He walked toward you.
His hand settled at your waist.
“You’re beautiful.”
Your expression softened.
“You seem nervous.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“I don’t get nervous.”
“You’re holding me very tightly.”
His hand loosened slightly.
You smiled.
“Oh my God.”
“What?”
“You really are nervous.”
Sukuna’s mouth flattened.
“Get in the car.”
You laughed and followed him outside.
The black car waited in the driveway.
During the drive, he kept one hand on the steering wheel and the other over yours.
You watched the city pass beyond the windows.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“You hate surprises.”
“I hate being surprised.”
“That is hypocritical.”
“Yes.”
He drove toward the older part of downtown.
The buildings there were smaller, built of brick and stone instead of glass. Evening light warmed the streets. Restaurants and galleries filled the lower floors, and strings of lights had begun glowing above outdoor patios.
Then Sukuna turned onto a quieter street.
You recognized the building before he parked.
The historic theater.
His project.
You stared through the windshield.
The building had not reopened yet. Scaffolding remained along one side, but the front façade had been restored. Tall arched windows reflected the fading sky. The old marquee glowed softly, though no title appeared across it.
You looked at Sukuna.
“What are we doing here?”
“Get out.”
“That sounds ominous.”
“It isn’t.”
He stepped from the car and walked around to open your door.
You accepted his hand.
The theater entrance was unlocked.
That made no sense.
Sukuna had spent months complaining about safety regulations and unauthorized access.
He led you inside.
The lobby was nearly complete.
Restored gold detailing traced the ceiling. Dark red carpet covered the floor. Old chandeliers cast a warm glow across marble walls. The ticket counters stood empty, their glass polished.
You turned slowly.
“Sukuna.”
“What?”
“This is beautiful.”
He watched you instead of the room.
“I know.”
“You did this?”
“Most of it.”
You squeezed his hand.
“You never brought me here.”
“It wasn’t ready.”
“Is it ready now?”
“No.”
“Then why are we here?”
Sukuna continued toward the auditorium.
Your pulse quickened.
The large double doors opened into darkness.
Then lights came on.
Not all at once.
A line of soft lamps glowed along the aisles, leading toward the stage. The restored seats curved around the room in rows of deep red velvet. Gold ornamentation climbed the balconies. Above, the ceiling had been painted to resemble a midnight sky.
You stopped.
For a moment, you forgot every suspicion.
Every question.
The room was breathtaking.
“Sukuna.”
He stood beside you.
“This is what you’ve been working on?”
“One part of it.”
“It’s incredible.”
His mouth curved faintly.
You walked slowly down the aisle, one hand still in his.
The stage curtain was open.
A single table stood at the center.
On it sat two glasses and a bottle of champagne.
Your steps slowed.
Your heart began pounding.
Sukuna guided you onto the stage.
From there, the theater stretched out before you.
Empty.
Quiet.
Beautiful enough to feel unreal.
You turned toward him.
“Why is there champagne?”
“For later.”
“Later than what?”
Sukuna looked at you.
For once, he had no immediate answer.
That frightened you more than any speech could have.
He reached into his pocket.
Your breath stopped.
Sukuna noticed.
“Don’t start crying yet.”
“You haven’t done anything yet.”
“You’re already doing the eye thing.”
“I am not.”
“You are.”
His fingers closed around something inside the pocket.
Then he exhaled slowly.
You had never seen Sukuna hesitate this way.
Not before difficult conversations.
Not before telling off your father.
Not even before admitting that he wanted to marry you.
He looked almost annoyed with himself for being nervous.
That made you love him more.
“Sukuna?”
“I had a speech.”
Your lips parted.
“What?”
“I wrote one.”
“You wrote a speech?”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“In my desk.”
“You forgot it?”
“I threw it away.”
A laugh escaped you.
“Why?”
“It sounded stupid.”
“I would have liked it.”
“No, you wouldn’t.”
“I like everything you say when you’re being sincere.”
“That’s a terrible standard.”
Your eyes burned.
Sukuna pointed at you.
“Not yet.”
You laughed through the tears.
He removed a small black box from his pocket.
The room seemed to narrow around it.
Around him.
Around the years between the night you met and this one.
Sukuna looked down at the box, then back at you.
“I didn’t want to get married again.”
You went very still.
He continued before fear could form.
“I thought I was finished with all of it. Dating. Sharing a house. Making plans with another person.”
His thumb moved over the edge of the box.
“Then you kept coming back.”
Your mouth trembled.
“One more night,” he said.
You laughed softly.
“One more movie. One more weekend. Then your clothes were in my closet, and your books were everywhere, and somehow my house stopped feeling right when you weren’t in it.”
The tears slipped free.
Sukuna sighed.
“I told you not yet.”
“I can’t help it.”
“I know.”
His expression softened.
“You were supposed to be temporary.”
The words would have hurt once.
Now you heard the wonder in them.
“The worst decision I made was thinking I could keep you that way.”
Your hand rose to your mouth.
Sukuna stepped closer.
“I don’t want one more night.”
His voice lowered.
“I want all of them.”
That broke you.
A sob escaped before you could stop it.
Sukuna’s eyes softened further, though his own looked suspiciously bright beneath the theater lights.
He lowered himself onto one knee.
Your breath caught so sharply it hurt.
The sight of him there—forty-seven, proud, impossible, dressed in black beneath the restored gold ceiling—felt too large for your heart to hold.
He opened the box.
Inside rested a ring with a deep red center stone surrounded by small diamonds, elegant and dark and unmistakably chosen for you.
“Sukuna.”
He looked up.
“I know there are twenty-three years between us.”
Your tears fell faster.
“I know people will always have something to say. I know you had to defend this before you should have had to defend anything.”
His jaw tightened.
“But I also know you chose me when you didn’t need my money. You stayed when I was difficult. You built a life here that I didn’t know I wanted until you gave it to me.”
You shook your head, crying openly now.
Sukuna’s mouth curved.
“You finished school.”
You laughed through the tears.
“You got the job you wanted.”
His gaze held yours.
“You can leave whenever you want.”
The meaning settled between you.
He had waited until you had your own degree.
Your own income.
Your own future.
Until yes could never be mistaken for dependence.
“And you still come home to me,” he said.
Your chest ached.
“So come home to me for the rest of it.”
He held the ring slightly higher.
“Marry me.”
Not a question.
Of course not.
You laughed, covering your mouth.
Sukuna lifted one eyebrow.
“You’re supposed to answer.”
“You didn’t ask.”
His eyes narrowed.
You smiled through your tears.
He exhaled.
Then, with visible effort, said, “Will you marry me?”
You nodded before the sentence fully ended.
“Yes.”
Sukuna’s shoulders loosened.
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
You laughed and cried at once.
“Yes, I’ll marry you.”
He stood immediately.
You threw your arms around his neck before he could place the ring on your finger.
Sukuna caught you against him, one arm wrapping tightly around your waist.
You kissed him.
Clumsily at first because you were smiling too much.
Then deeply.
His hand moved to the back of your neck, holding you close as the black box remained trapped awkwardly between you.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing harder.
“The ring,” he said.
You laughed.
“Right.”
Sukuna removed the old ring from your right hand.
You watched him.
“What are you doing?”
“Making room.”
“You could put the new one on the other hand.”
“I know.”
He slid the older ring onto your right ring finger again, then took your left hand.
His fingers were steady now.
The new ring slipped into place perfectly.
You stared down at it.
The red stone caught the theater lights.
“It’s beautiful.”
“I know.”
You looked up.
“You’re supposed to say something romantic.”
“I designed it.”
Your eyes widened.
“You designed my ring?”
“Obviously.”
“You had someone make it?”
“Yes.”
“Is that where you kept going?”
“Partly.”
“And the phone?”
“Yuuji.”
Your mouth fell open.
“Yuuji helped?”
“He picked it up.”
“You trusted him with the ring?”
“No.”
“But you just said—”
“He picked up the champagne.”
You laughed.
“That makes more sense.”
Sukuna looked down at your hand.
His expression softened into something deeply satisfied.
“Fits.”
“You measured my other ring.”
“Yes.”
“You stole it?”
“Borrowed.”
“You always say that.”
“It was returned.”
You touched his face.
“You were so strange for three months.”
“I was planning.”
“You are terrible at hiding things.”
“I hid it.”
“I knew you were proposing.”
“You guessed.”
“I knew.”
“You didn’t know when.”
“That still counts.”
“No.”
You smiled and kissed him again.
This time, the kiss was slower.
Tender.
Sukuna rested one hand at your waist while the other held your left hand between your bodies, his thumb brushing the new ring.
When you parted, you looked across the empty theater.
“You proposed inside one of your buildings.”
“It isn’t mine.”
“You designed it.”
“Restored.”
“You are such an architect.”
“You like it.”
“I love it.”
His eyes moved back to you.
“The theater?”
“You.”
The answer silenced him.
You loved when that happened.
Sukuna looked away briefly, jaw tightening around emotion.
Then he reached for the champagne.
“Yuuji picked the wrong bottle.”
You laughed.
“You haven’t even opened it.”
“I can tell.”
“You criticize everything before trying it.”
“I’m usually right.”
He opened the bottle without spilling any.
Of course.
Then poured two glasses.
You accepted one, though you were still staring at the ring.
“To your terrible secret keeping,” you said.
Sukuna lifted his glass.
“To you finally stopping the questions.”
“I have more now.”
His expression darkened.
“When are we getting married?”
“We just got engaged.”
“You like schedules.”
“I regret teaching you anything about me.”
You smiled.
“Big wedding or small?”
“Small.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Can Yuuji be in it?”
“No.”
“He helped.”
“He bought champagne.”
“That earns him something.”
“A seat.”
You laughed.
Sukuna took a drink.
Then he looked toward your ring again.
The quiet pride in his face made your chest tighten.
“You’re really going to be my husband,” you whispered.
He met your gaze.
“Yes.”
“Does that feel strange?”
“No.”
“Not even a little?”
Sukuna set the glass down and stepped closer.
“You’ve been acting like my wife for years.”
Your face warmed.
“How?”
“Leaving things everywhere. Interrupting my work. Spending my money.”
You gasped.
“I barely use the card.”
“Then use it more.”
“That was not the point.”
His mouth curved.
“You live in my house.”
“Our house.”
“Our house,” he corrected.
“You know my schedule better than I do. You complain when I don’t eat. You sleep on top of me.”
“You pull me there.”
“Same result.”
You smiled.
Sukuna touched your cheek.
“The paperwork is late.”
Your eyes softened.
“That was romantic.”
“It was factual.”
“It can be both.”
He kissed your forehead.
For a while, the two of you remained on the stage, drinking champagne beneath the restored ceiling.
You asked how long he had been planning.
He admitted he had begun almost immediately after the conversation with Yuuji.
You asked whether Yuuji knew from the beginning.
He did.
You asked whether your parents knew.
Your mother did.
Your father had only been told that afternoon because Sukuna did not trust him to keep the secret.
That made you laugh so hard you nearly spilled your drink. “He agreed?” you asked.
“I wasn’t asking permission.”
“What did he say?”
“That I’m too old.”
You covered your face.
“Of course.”
“I told him that was no longer useful information.”
“What else?”
Sukuna took another drink.
“He asked whether you were happy.”
Your smile softened.
“What did you say?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And that I intend to keep it that way.”
Your eyes filled again.
Sukuna groaned.
“You’re going to dehydrate before dinner.”
“I’m engaged.”
“You’ve said that four times.”
“I’ll say it more.”
He looked at your hand.
“Good.”
Dinner was waiting afterward in a private room above the theater lobby.
Yuuji appeared halfway through dessert because he claimed he had been promised confirmation.
He burst through the door, saw the ring, and shouted loudly enough that Sukuna immediately threatened to remove him from the building.
Yuuji ignored him and hugged you.
“Congratulations!”
You hugged him back.
“You knew.”
“For three months.”
“You lied to me.”
“I did a bad job.”
“You did.”
Sukuna sat at the table with one hand over his face.
Yuuji pulled back and examined the ring.
“That looks even better than the picture.”
You turned toward Sukuna.
“You sent him a picture?”
“He needed to confirm pickup.”
Yuuji grinned.
“He showed me six designs.”
Your eyes widened.
“Six?”
Sukuna’s expression darkened.
“Leave.”
“You spent three weeks choosing the stone.”
“Yuuji.”
“He was very emotional.”
“I’ll kill you.”
You laughed and looked at your fiancé.
Fiancé.
The word felt strange and beautiful.
Sukuna caught you staring.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m engaged.”
Yuuji sat down beside you.
“She’s going to say that all night.”
Sukuna reached across the table and took your hand.
His thumb moved over the ring.
“She can.”
You looked at him.
His expression had softened again.
Private even with Yuuji sitting beside you.
Later, when you returned home, the house looked exactly as it had that morning.
Your shoes by the door.
Manuscripts stacked on the dining table.
Sukuna’s plans visible through the office doors.
Nothing had changed.
Everything had.
You stood in the bedroom beneath the soft lamplight, still wearing the red dress, turning your hand slowly to watch the stone catch the light.
Sukuna came up behind you.
His arms circled your waist.
You leaned back against him.
“Happy?” he asked.
You nodded.
“Very.”
“Good.”
You looked at him through the mirror.
“You were really nervous.”
“No.”
“You forgot your speech.”
“I threw it away.”
“Because you were nervous.”
“Because it was bad.”
“You got on one knee.”
“You expected it.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You mentioned it last time.”
“That was years ago.”
“I remember things.”
You smiled.
Sukuna lowered his mouth to your shoulder.
“You would’ve said yes if I didn’t?”
“Yes.”
“You would’ve said yes anywhere?”
You turned in his arms.
“Yes.”
His gaze searched yours.
“Even at home?”
“Especially at home.”
Sukuna looked around the bedroom.
“Our house.”
You nodded.
“Our house.”
His hand rose to your left hand.
He kissed the ring.
Then your knuckles.
Then pulled you close again.
“You’re mine now,” he murmured.
You lifted one eyebrow.
“I was already yours.”
“Legally soon.”
“That sounds possessive.”
“It is.”
You smiled and touched his face.
“And you’re mine.”
Sukuna’s mouth curved.
“Obviously.”
You kissed him.
Outside, the city moved quietly beyond the windows.
Inside, the house held all the evidence of the life you had built together.
One more night had become four years.
One drawer became half the closet.
One tuition payment became two degrees.
One question after dinner became a red stone on your hand.
And the man who had once believed love was temporary held you as though forever had finally become something he could design.
Imagine Sukuna in a modern AU without powers but make him like kaido from saiki k
He used to be an awkward teen who went through a phase of believing he was the "king of curses"
Used to use sharpie to draw on markings and finally got the balls to stick and poke them in permanently...ended up with an eye infection and waited until he was 18 to get the rest
Either that or he completely terrorised his parents into giving him their permission
No one would believe it now, he grew up to be a total hottie with an attitude problem and if someone where to bring it up? Well, they'd probably need a few stitches in their mouth
SYNOPSIS you’ve been ryomen sukunas friend since you two were only little. It’s never been easy having to deal with him. But growing up has only made it worse
TAGS smut , mdni , friendship-ish relationship with sukuna , college au ft unwilling frat!kuna , spanking , dacryphilia , angst w a happy ending , praise , slow burn , athlete sukuna , twin jin and sukuna
EXTRA NOTE i know im saying this a lot but i just am. So grateful for how fast this acc has grown in just three days and ur sweet comments have been keeping me so motivated😭😭This chapter is a little bit longer than usual
[prev chapter] [next chapter] i’ll make a masterlist eventually
college move in day. you were sat next to sukuna in his car that he got for graduation, it was filled to the brim with your both of your guys’ bags. your parents and sukunas dad were all in the same car, carrying the rest of you and sukunas stuff.
the drive was longer than you expected to tokyo tech college. you started counting the miles you’d be away from your family. 1 mile. 5 miles. 10 miles. 20 miles. 45 miles. 80 miles. 100 miles. 150 miles. 200 miles.
you were 4 hours away from home, which doesnt seem like that much but you were no longer in your city. and if you ever wanted to visit home you’d probably have to spend a good part of it just traveling and you’d have to always have sleep overs so you probably wouldnt be able to visit often so you wouldnt be able to pop down for a visit and if you did you would never be able to stay for long and you’d-
‘are you doing okay there?’ sukuna looked over at you peering out the window
‘hm? yeah i’m fine’
‘you’ll be okay.’
you make a noise of acknowledgement before going over to reach for the cars screen, turning off sukunas music and connecting the bluetooth to your own playlist.
sukuna looks over at you and scoffs
‘sorry, were you listening to that?’ you laugh as you press play onto the playlist
‘no actually, i just accidentally connected my phone onto the bluetooth and put on my playlist’ sukuna huffed
‘you’ve had it all day an hour of my playlist won’t end your life.’
sukuna rolled his eyes and let you play your playlist. you spent most of the car ride in silence. he didn’t try to push you to talk, it was always sukuna who would just participate in the conversation as you started it. you were different these few months following college. you were usually a lot louder and now you seemed uninterested with whatever he had to say.
he didn’t try pushing you into saying anything. he figured you were probably just scared about going into college, you werent exactly the type to be the best with change.
sukuna always found it hard to place his feelings with you. he was sure on the most part. you were his closest friend. the only one he really cared for. he knew he cared for you. he always felt a level of guilt when it came around to being around you.
you were nice, everything about you was.
when he was back in highschool he only had friends that werent you because all the kids in his year obsessed over him. he was on the football team and there were was these groups of massive douches who followed him around. they all sucked, especially for the little twerp naoya.
sukuna never entertained these losers who would go around following him, he had no need or want for anybodies company but himself and you. eventually, at some point the kids learnt how to exist around him. it was miserable. having a bunch of these misogynistic assholes around him with a constant need of impressing him.
there was this one time where he had a football game against an enemy school and won by 3-1, it was all sukuna but he didnt care enough to correct the guys on the team when they paraded around the school taking most of the credit.
naoya zenin - the twerp, followed sukuna up to his locker trying to congratulate sukuna for the teams win.
‘hey sukuna’ naoyas agitating voice rang in his ears. he shouldve just killed the entire team when he had the chance. ‘you know that goal you kicked last minute? pure aura. on god for real ive never seen anyone mog like that in a match. youre cold’
‘what the fuck are you saying to me?’ sukuna was disgusted. he wanted nothing more to smash naoyas head into the locker and beat his in face in.
‘you know.. you totally mogged the hell out of those guys’ naoya was a little embarassed now. he figured ass kissing would get him on sukunas good side but it clearly hadnt now.
‘you should consider dying sometime, zenin’ sukuna closed his locker and walked off, he’d never been so irritated.
when he was on the way home with you later that day he told you the entire thing. he was angry that naoya even thought he could breathe in sukunas direction and even more furious that he came up to sukuna saying some bullshit.
you laughed into his arm, you knew a lot more about these social media terms than he did. he felt the softness of your cheek pressed onto his bicep and he wanted to stay there like that.
you tried explaining to him what naoya was trying to tell him but it just pissed sukuna off more that naoya tried brown nosing him.
‘you shouldve beaten him up’ your was a little more raspy now that you’d been laughing the entire way home with him.
‘thats the first time youve recommended me that’ sukuna took his shoes off at your door. he followed you into your room.
‘yeah because he really deserves it this time’ you sighed, recalling back on a memory
‘how come?’
‘naoyas a total asshat. he had english with me for a bit before he flunked and they moved him to the lower class. we were doing macbeth and he kept talking about how you could tell the story was fiction because no real woman in our society has the level of ‘strength and bravery’ as lady macbeth. just kept saying a bunch of misogynistic bullshit and the teacher kept having to cut him off because he’d always ramble on and say something weird.’ sukuna plopped down onto your bed as you started changing your clothes
sukuna pinched his nose bridge out of annoyance. it was humiliating to believe shit past the age of 7.
‘he used to chase me around after class. kept getting angry when i pointed out he had misunderstood the story because he had no clue on what shakespearean language was but kept acting like he knew everything. just a massive bother’
‘bother like how?’
‘he’d just.. chase me around the school. call me a bunch of shit. got a knack out of it but gave up when i never reacted’
that one thing you had said pissed him off to levels unreasonable. thinking about naoya on your ass saying some bullshit as you tried to ignore just made his blood boil.
the next day he ended up telling one of the goons that followed him around that he was gonna go and beat the shit out of naoya. by lunch the entire school knew but just as he went to naoyas table you pulled him back.
you were angry at him. yelling at him over an asshole like naoya who spent weeks relentlessly harassing you because you didnt want sukuna expelled. because you didnt anyone hurt, even if it was naoya. because you were nice. because you were good.
that was just one instance. sukuna could name each and every single time you ended or attempted to end a fight like that between sukuna and a jackass who completely deserved it. he still looks back on it, he wonders that maybe you should be running off with better friends. he thinks that youre unlucky to be the one having sleepovers and all the weird shit friends do with him.
he cant piece it into words yet but he thinks that you should be friends with someone who hold the same values as you. someone who can be nice with you. someone who wont make you cry as much as he has because hes never been good at being good.
he doesnt say it out loud because he refuses to be some sappy dork. he looks at you peering out the window and sighs. what if you guys did end up outgrowing eachother in college? what if you found people who knew how to do the things he couldnt and discover its better than crying over him?
he didnt ever want to come across a world that lacked you. no matter how far or behind he thought of his life it seemed as if you always found a place to call your own in his head. he needed you, he found it hard to care about anything that wasnt about you or football.
the thoughts lingered for years. as long as he can remember, maybe even since you were two were playing with the little plastic dinosaur toys in the back of the class, begging him to play with other toys instead of getting into fights with other kids in the class. but now its college, and the thought gets worse. it suffocates him, a lot worse than it used to.
he bites his cheek and listens to the sound of you humming to some song from your playlist, finally reaching your college. you take a deep breath.
‘im sure your roomate’ll be fine’ sukuna tries to reassure you, he knows the concern youve been having for a couple of weeks now.
you hum, trying to believe him ‘i hope so. i dont wanna kill myself’
sukuna scoffs and parks the car, looking to see for your parents.
wasukes car comes in to a stop, first your parents leave and then his follows. he takes a deep breath seeing his dad, he knows nothing good is coming out of this day. he remains grateful he wont have to see his dad as much anymore, he finds himself feeling bad for jin.
your parents try talking to you about college and it feels a bit stupid that theyre trying to set you rules despite the fact that youre now hours away from them and theyll have no clue about anything you get up to. you look at sukuna sympathetically, wasukes on his ass like always. seems as if college doesnt seem to stop either of your parents.
sukuna helps load up your stuff first before he does his. wasuke makes your bed while your parents stuff your closet with your clothes and sukuna helps set up your desk with you.
‘he bother you on the way here?’ you whisper to him quietly, referring to his dad. he nods blankly and you hold onto his hand tightly, smiling softly. he doesnt return the smile back or hold your hand tighter but he gives you glance before returning to work.
you leave to do sukunas, your eyes land on the nike shoe box again. the one with the photos of you two, the one that made you a little less worried about you and sukunas friendship in college. you took the shoebox and hid it in the bottom drawer of his desk.
you took a look at sukunas desk before you two left to go back home. there wasn’t a lot but there was a photo of the two of you hanging off a tree, sukuna was sat on a thicker branch as you gripped onto the branch on the other side like a sloth, laughing as you looked down at wasuke who had open arms ready to catch you.
all these years youve remained friends with sukuna youve had this pit of worry if he even likes you. maybe he’s just remained carrying you around everywhere because nobody else has stuck with him as long as you.
your entire world revolved around sukuna, and you never knew who you were without him. sukunas always had people around. hes always at parties or hang outs or little events that happened around. he’d say he never cared about his friends at school but he did go to their plans.
you didnt mind it, you had friends of your own, obviously, but on the days where you wouldnt get any texts back and sukuna wasnt home you’d lay in your room. wondering what to do with yourself. how could you ever exist alone? how could you ever be independent?
you worry for a few moments before sukunas at his door.
‘we’re going home now’
‘alright’ you stare at the picture for a little longer before going back to walk with sukuna.
‘lucky you get a single dorm to yourself’
‘thats only cause dads paying extra. he only let me off having a single because i got here on half ride’
you hum. sukunas far more richer than you, your parents are well off enough to get you whatever you wanted growing up and more than the bare minimum, but you werent on sukunas level to afford a whole personal dorm. a shared dorm was costing your parents enough even after you got a full ride scholarship.
sukuna only got a scholarship for his athletics, hence why its only half ride. wasuke always made money a big deal even when he seemed to have an infinite supply of it. he was single handedly taking financial responsibility on his twin sons, kaori and her medical bills after her parents kicked her out, and practically you since you were 5.
he owned this weird business that you assumed was pretty well off seeing how loaded he was. you supposed he had one of those businesses that all the red pill or finance bros on tiktok talked about, you never really cared enough to ask.
wasuke was kind enough to become this sort of benefactor for this weird family dynamic you 5 had. but you noticed well enough over the years that he was never really a good father.
he was a complete nitpicker and constantly went on and on about how his sons would fail and passed it along as preparing them for the future.
you saw both sides of the stick on how his kids ended up. jin ended up quiet and reserved and he was terrified to end up breathing the wrong way before he completely broke the first time he found love and ended up getting his first girlfriend pregnant and going to community college.
sukuna ended up barely showing any emotion aside from anger or amusement from bothering people. he grew to learn that the more time he spent away from his dad the more he was able to steer clear away from the constant pestering. sukuna would rather die than admit it but he does fear his dad. he wonders who he wouldve been if he had a normal father that does normal fatherly things.
you got into sukunas car and saw your college get smaller and smaller as the car pulled away. you thought about what your life would look like in the next 4 years.
you look to sukunas stoic expression, you remember him looking a little embarassed and shrivelled up as his dad kept a stern expression and saying something to him before going to move into your college dorms.
‘what was your dad saying to you, before we got here?’ you turn to look at him
‘nothing.’
‘kuna’
‘just on my ass about college. told me i was probably gonna flunk my way through here and get kicked out and royally embarrass the family like always. called it my specialty.’
‘do you believe him?’
sukuna doesnt respond. he holds his breath for a moment and keeps his eyes from the road and away from you. you can tell what that response means, he believes it, hes carried that guilt his entire life. the belief that hes got nothing to lose because hes so terrible and its expected from him so he can do whatever he wants.
‘its not true’ you try to comfort him but he just grunts a sound of acknowledgement that you almost dont hear over the music.
you landed at sukunas house pretty late into the day. jin was trying to teach choso how to listen to instructions and looked up at you two.
‘how was the move in?’ jin had was speaking a little louder as choso yelled dada, trying to ask for a yogurt from the fridge.
‘it was fine, didn’t meet my roommate though and now im terrified because now i have no idea on what to expect for the rest of the year’ you whined, lowering down to pick up choso as he called your name.
‘youre worrying far too much, things’ll be fine’ jin tried to comfort you. choso keeps babbling ‘boburt’ in your arms and you go in to give him one while jin looks at him unenthusiastically. ‘kids gonna engorge himself’
‘hes a toddler, he needs the extra food’ sukuna called out as he threw off his hoodie.
‘gonna have a fat toddler’ jin baby talked, digging his cheek into chosos face while he giggled in your arms.
sukuna rolled his eyes. ‘wheres kaori?’
‘she was up doing night duty and this pregnancy has been hitting her harder than chosos did, shes sleeping in’ jin frowned
‘shes raising a kid while pregnant and she has her final year of school next year, its normal to be exhausted. just take up the night duties and give her extra rest’
jin takes your word on it as he finishes feeding choso, carrying him up to get ready for bed.
‘im never fucking having kids’ sukuna shook his head and you laughed.
it was your college orientation and you kept swapping between outfits trying to make yourself look professional. sukuna had to console you the entire 4 hour drive to the college and you still kept spiralling.
the college campus was a lot more populated than it was last you came here and you started to remember that this was an incredibly prestigious school that was loaded to levels unknown and there was like a million and three students here.
there was a bunch of college freshmen lining up and the school staff lined up for the orientation. you and sukuna sat next to eachother and people gathered up around you.
a group of three entered into the hall, some dude with white hair who kept laughing his ass off incredibly loudly while the guy next to him with black hair in some sort of half up-half down bun and ear gauges tried to calm him down as he also laughed. a girl with brown hair was also with them while she smoked and immediately got told off by the dean to get rid of it.
sukuna rolled his eyes and grumbled something about stuck up rich kids, despite him being a stuck up rich kid. the two boys sat behind you and sukuna as the girl sat next to you.
you turned around to look at the two guys and they were already looking at you, smiling. you smiled back lightly but the second you turned around they started laughing and your heart jumped.
the girl next to you realised this and whispered in your ear, you could smell the cigarettes off of her ‘ignore them, theyre grade 1 a-holes, sorry’ she smiled at you empathetically. you could just about guess that the 3 of them had probably gone to the same highschool.
‘its fine’ you smiled at her. she kept looking down your shirt while smiling back as you went down to look. you were wearing a button up and because you were so stressed you ended up forgetting a button and now you practically had your boobs out.
you were mortified and you wanted to walls to cave in on you
you were angry at sukuna now, the fact that you had your entire chest out for the whole day and he didnt even think to let you know. you hit his arm for his attention ‘kuna! my boobs are out!’
you heard snickers from the two guys behind you as sukuna looked down at your chest. ‘i thought you did that on purpose’
you were going to kill yourself and sukuna. you buttoned up your top as the girl next to you smiled softly ‘you have nice boobs’
‘thank you’ you squeaked, looking down at your chest to see if your chest still peaked out.
‘i’m shoko’ she smiled softly at you as she pulled out gum from her purse.
you introduced yourself back and asked for gum, she passed it on to you but her fingers lingered weirdly long on your hand.
the dean and president of the college started speaking, telling the rules of the school and that kind of garbage. shoko kept making comments you’d snicker at and she’d look over to you and smirk.
when the orientation was over you started talking to shoko a bit and ended up getting her number as sukuna kept brooding over you. the two guys she came with left the hall and seemed to be looking for her.
‘whos the new friend shoko?’ the one with the weird half up half down and bangs smiled lightly at you. it was a little sinister and you started feeling uncomfortable with this weird exchange
‘suguru! this is-’
‘BOOBY!’ the one with the white hair had his arm around with who shoko called suguru had spoke over her. ‘saw you in orientation, got to say im disappointed i liked the view’
you gulped, you wanted to say something to the white haired guy before sukuna spoke for you. ‘why the fuck are you talking to girls like that?’
‘oh sorry!’ he smirked, amused. ‘didnt know she had a boyfriend. i’ll stay alert next time’
‘not her boyfriend dumbass, just have enough common fucking sense to know that you dont pester someone over their boobs’ sukuna sighed, annoyed he was even having this conversation. it was like he was back in high school with numb minded freaks again.
the guy was about to say something back before suguru clutched his shoulder. ‘apologise satoru.’ he said through his teeth
‘sorry for your boobs.’ satoru winced in pain, waiting for geto to let go of his arm.
‘i dont think we’ve properly been introduced, my apologies. im suguru, thats satoru and you already shoko’ he did his really weird sinister smirk again and you gulped.
‘thats satoru gojo. im gojo. did you hear that? im a gojo, no big deal, really’
you go in to introduce yourself and turn to see if sukuna will, he doesnt so you sigh and do it for him.
satoru smiles and looks over at shoko, shoko already knows what hes about to ask her. ‘so, suguru got the list down.’
‘mhm.’ shoko nods, looking exhausted
‘huh?’ you turn your head, satoru turns over and smiles as if hes been waiting to say this.
‘we made a pact before we started college to try and break all the rules on our first day here, just to start the experience with a bang’
‘oh!’ you started to find yourself intrigued, you look over at sukuna, he clearly doesnt care for this at all.
‘you can help us out’ he smiles widely. shoko looks like she wants to a dig a hole and die. she forgot why she agreed to this.
‘i mean, i guess’ you agree and sukuna sighs like youre an idiot. suguru hands over a list and you skim over it.
‘you know, theres this one im having trouble with, sexual indecency. think i could use your help on that, booby’ satoru winks at you.
‘don’t call me booby!’ you yell satoru and sukuna huffs in annoyance. satoru just laughs it off.
‘fine then, i’ll figure that one out myself’ satoru mutters to himself as he tries to find one to do. ‘alright, lets start a fire.’
satoru digs into his bag and pulls out a bottle of vodka and throws a camera to suguru. he puts his hand out, waiting for shokos lighter. she rolls her eyes and passes it along, suguru records as satoru takes some potted plastic plant on the floor and proceeds to pour vodka on it and lighting it on fire. he steps on it to blow it out and looks to you for the next rule.
30 minutes later, gojo surprisingly begins to break all student protocol. he already crossed off harassing seeing as hes gone around calling you ‘booby’ all day.
satoru goes on to try and cover ‘sexual indecency’ off his check list while you have lunch with sukuna, shoko and suguru.
‘you two have been friends since you were 5?’
‘yeah, i practically lived with him’ you laughed. you were having a good conversation with suguru and shoko. even sukuna starts to talk, though hes never been one to have conversations with anyone who wasnt you.
midway into your meal satoru busts into the lunch hall, in search of you guys. he runs in with his hair messed up and his neck covered in hickeys.
you and shoko laugh while sukuna and suguru just look at him disappointedly.
satoru held his arms out and smiled widely, looking incredibly pleased with himself. shoko starts to clap and starts interrogating him.
‘it was hard at first.. i’ll admit, but i came here with a plan.. and now i have a video!’ he started yelling the last part out and you all stopped laughing and glanced around the table in confusion. satoru started to stutter, looking around to see why none of you had laughed yet.
‘satoru thats gross!’ shoko called out
‘and degrading!’ suguru followed
‘is that even legal?’ even sukuna chimed in, and you left bewildered. satoru now just held a camera in his hand pathetically.
AUTHORS NOTE Would u believe it theyre finally. At college. im making more longer chapters now bc i dont want a bunch of random nothingburger chapters that clutter my page and do an unnecessary amount of chapters. also sorry if anything is weird ab the college im english and know fuck all about college And instead of making this a university au i thought itd just be funny to make fratkuna whos actually smart stuck with a bunch of dumbasses getting constantly ragebaited by satoru. Also did anyone peep the skins ref here?anyone?hey?Ok.
let me know if u want to be added to the tag list!
Fluff | Tension | Coworkers | Modern AU | Some shifts run smoother than others. The new cook might change everything.
The diner you work at never really sleeps.
It simmers.
Grease popping on the flat-top stove, coffee endlessly refilling itself, neon sign buzzing like a lighthouse in the night.
You move through it like it's a dance you know by heart, like a reflex.
"Refill?"
"Coming right up."
"Kitchen, I need—"
"Got it."
His voice cuts in before you can even finish.
You glance toward the pass.
Sukuna.
The new line cook is a refreshing change. Nothing to compare with the incompetent guy before him.
Sukuna arrives in the kitchen like he owns the heat, like he eats chaos for breakfast.
Plus, he looks criminally attractive.
Pink hair tucked under a cap, tattoos peeking under the short sleeves of his stained black t-shirt.
And those eyes— his deep fire-colored eyes are always observing. Scanning.
Whenever he looks at you through the pass, his eyes never just happen to land on you, more like they're piercing through you.
"Table six is getting loud again," you mutter as you pass by the kitchen dropping off an order.
"I know," he replies without looking up, flipping something on the grill with lazy precision.
"You got a sixth sense for trouble?"
"No, I'm just that good." A smirk tugs at his mouth.
Before you can answer—
A chair scrapes loudly across the tired tiles of the floor.
Voices raising.
Table six.
You barely have time to turn before Sukuna is already moving.
Not rushing, not panicking.
But asserting, grounding steps.
His leather boots echo in the almost empty kitchen. A few other staff members holding their breath as he makes his way out of the kitchen. Pushing the swinging doors open.
By the time you reach the table, he's already there.
Inevitable. Certain.
"Something wrong?" he asks, voice low, steady.
A guy puffs up, ready to argue. Looks over Sukuna.
Whether it's his presence or his looks, it makes the guy hesitate enough.
"...nah," the guy mutters, sitting back down.
Tension around the table dissolve like it never happened.
You blink.
Before Sukuna, you would've got in the middle, the rest of the staff barely supporting you and sometimes, cops had to be called.
Life being as stressful as it is, you always hated those late nights.
But it seems like Sukuna just proved you that things can be done differently.
"...okay," you say under your breath.
Sukuna glances at you as he brushes past you, close enough for you to feel the heat off of him. "Told you," he murmurs.
After that, late-night shifts become a breeze.
Whenever you were scheduled on the same shift as the new cook, you couldn't help but smile.
A rhythm settles during your shared shifts, a pattern.
Shared glances in the pass, half-finished conversations between orders.
You reach for something and he's already handing it to you.
Whenever a client becomes agitated, he's nearby in the blink of an eye.
You don't have to ask.
He doesn't explain.
The dynamic just... works.
One night, break time comes in like a quiet exhale.
You slip out the back door, the cool night air hits your skin.
Delivering you from grease and noise for a moment.
He's already there.
Of course he is.
Sitting on an old picnic table, feet planted on the bench.
Lighter flicking from the push of his thumb.
Once, twice, then— a flame.
The cigarette catches, the dim flame making his feature look lethal.
For a second, you just watch him.
The way he holds himself.
Relaxed but somehow always ready at the same time.
"You follow me out here or what?" he asks without looking at you.
You smile, stepping closer. "You wish."
He huffs a quiet laugh, exhaling smoke into the night.
You stand in front of him, almost settling between his thighs.
Close enough to feel the presence.
Not close enough to acknowledge it.
"...you're different," you say after a moment looking at the sky.
His head turns slightly toward you, eyes narrowing just a fraction.
That got his attention.
"What do you mean?"
You tilt your head, looking at him, studying him like a puzzle you're not in a hurry to solve.
"I never met someone like you," you say. Simple. Honest.
Then, softer—
"and it's attractive as fuck."
Silence.
Not awkward.
But like your words are slowly settling in his mind.
Sukuna looks at you fully now, his usual unreadable look but somehow even more intense.
You don't break eye contact. You don't soften or break the tension.
You meet it. You wait for him to catch up.
"You always talk like that?" he asks.
You shrug. "Only when I mean it."
He lets out a slow breath, smoke curling between you. "Honesty usually scares people."
You step closer to him. "I don't think you're most people."
A slight twitch in his brow. A subtle flicker changes in his eyes.
Like challenging a tiger, the beast is amused.
"...Dangerous assumption."
"Am I wrong?"
Sukuna tilts his head back, like he's trying to figure you out.
Maybe the funny, quirky and welcoming co-worker is more interesting than he first anticipated.
Your gaze dropped to the cigarette between his fingers.
Without asking, you reach out and take it from his hand.
He doesn't stop you.
He doesn't move.
He watches you.
Interested. Engaged.
You bring the cigarette to your lips, take a slow drag— more for the tension than the nicotine— then lean in his space.
Close enough that your voice is barely above a whisper.
"I think you're the one with the wrong assumptions on me." You place the cigarette back between his lips.
Deliberate. Unhurried. Deadly.
Your fingers brushing just enough to feel the soft skin of his lips.
His hand comes up, catching your wrist before you can pull away.
Not tight, but firm.
Like he's sending a message through touch.
"How do you even know what I think about you?" he says quietly.
You raise a brow. "I guess we'll have to discuss it over a drink."
His thumb shifts slightly against your beating pulse, inside your wrist. "You don't know what you're getting into."
You smile. Not your sweet, innocent, customer service smile.
The one that knows exactly what game you're playing and this is checkmate.
"I think I do."
For a second, neither of you move.
The world shrinks to the space between you, eyes still staring into each other. The faint glow of the cigarette, ashes on the bench, the distant sound of cars on the highway.
Then— the back door slams open.
"Break's over!"
Reality pulls you back.
Sukuna lets go of your wrist.
You step away, making your way back to work.
But you can feel his gaze lingering on you.
Heavy.
Like the moment didn't totally fade.
His voice makes you stop in your stride—
"Tomorrow."
You glance over your shoulder. "What about it?"
"I'll pick you up at 8."
"Is that a question?"
"Didn't sound like one." He answers, stubbing his cigarette under his boot. A smirk playing on his face.
When you tie your apron back around your waist, you start to wonder who got checkmate now.
Because meeting someone who never reminded you of anyone you've ever met before is refreshing.
And dangerously addictive.
♡ i pictured the whole cigarette scene in my head and ugh!
now i need an artist to save me. i want a picture of this man in my wallet. ♡
𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐥!𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐏𝐭 𝟒. The 4 Times Caracal!Sukuna Fails To Make You An Outdoor Cat And The 1 Time He Succeeds
cw: caracal!sukuna x housecat!reader. reader is still a cute dummy dumb kitty. sukuna still our surly big kitty and gojo is still our annoyingly pervy owner hehe.
Caracal!Sukuna who is determined to turn you into an outdoor cat or break you trying.
There is no other alternative.
The last and final straw came after you tilted your pretty vacant little head and asked—with genuine, blinking sincerity—if Exotic Pet Owner!Gojo could come inside the nest to see how you were organizing your plushies.
The nest. His nest.
The one he built with his bare fucking claws for you.
Deconstructed the entire bedroom, furniture and all to make the perfect den for you with those silly little fairy lights, stuffies and fuzzy cushions. Yet despite scenting it constantly, soaking the cushions with enough of your squirt and his cum to have the place smelling like freshly fucked ass 24/7—that floofy little head of yours still can’t process the basic understanding of what a nest is.
Fundamentally, anyone but your mate entering the nest should trigger territorial aggression in both partners at the mere whiff of an outsider.
Like any feline, your hindbrain should riot. But your hindbrain is near mush and does not riot.
Instead, it has you cooing as you present to him a stuffed penguin with a tophat.
“Penpen has a lil’ hat Kuna, Toru got him a lil’ tophat, isn’t it cute?~♡”
Sukuna closes his eyes. Counts to five.
He tries explaining it, sits you on his knee and uses small words to breakdown just how sacred a nest is and that scent contamination is a violation on the most primal of levels, that no species of animal or hybrid ever in existence would allow that.
“Ah! Gotcha~♡!”
You nod eagerly, your serious eyes shimmering in determination, tail flicking. It's a performance of focus so convincing Sukuna almost believed you absorbed it fully as you hugged him and thanked him for explaining it so easily.
But did you grasp it?
No, how could you?
Especially when it’s not even twenty goddamn minutes later Sukuna comes back from a quick perimeter check to find Gojo—crouched at the threshold of the nest, one foot already over the edge, while you kneel inside holding the penguin in position against a pile of cushions.
"More to the left, princess." Gojo gestures lazily from the threshold. "No—my left, babe."
You huff softly and reposition the stuffie, shifting on your knees and with every degree increase of your bend, your slip ride higher up the backs of your thighs with the movement. Gojo tilts his head, his gaze dropping well below whereever the hell Penpen is.
"This left, toru ♡?" You look back at him for approval.
"Mm-hm." But Gojo's not looking at the penguin.
Hasn't been for the last thirty seconds.
You're bent forward on all fours adjusting a plushie and your tail is swishing through that new little heart-shaped cutout he had recently ordered for all your panties—the one that's technically for convenience but the sheer silky fabric gives him a real generous view of everything framing it.
Your plush, fat bottom cheeks in full view now.
"Perfect. Penpen's the centerpiece now." And so are you, sweetheart, Gojo grins more deviously, humming to himself.
All of which is completely un-fucking-acceptable to Sukuna.
Caracal!Sukuna who's hiss fills the room the way he fills every space—oppressively and with the implicit promise of violence.
Gojo, to his marginal credit, freezes. Turning around slowly, he holds up both hands with that infuriating grin already spreading across his face.
“E-Easy, now Kuna-cat.”
Sukuna’s eyes flash from the infuriating nickname Gojo had recently bestowed on him.
“I was invited.” Gojo stresses looking at you for backup, but you are no good for him either, apparently now distracted by the fact your floofy tail knocked over another plushy after being startled by Kuna’s hiss and now busy righting the fallen stuffie back in its correct place with the focus of a neurosurgeon.
Sukuna knows Gojo was invited though and that fact pisses him off more than anything especially after the convo you just had.
"Remove yourself immediately or I will remove your jugular." Sukuna grits, trying to practice restraint for your sake but the hairs on him are all up on end.
"Technically I'm not even insi—"
"You're breathing on it. Your vomit-inducing fruity scent is permeating the perimeter seeping in deeper by the second. Get. Out."
Grinning, Gojo retreats quickly, his sing-song voice reminding you about “bath time” in an hour, a fact which makes Sukuna’s eye twitch but this is more pressing.
You're still inside, sitting in the middle of your nest, watching the tail end of the exchange with vague confusion.
“Huh? Why’d Toru go?” You blink sweetly.
“Brat what did I tell you?” Sukuna growls displeased, his shadow now looming over you.
“But I remembered! He didn’t need to come inside to see where Penpen was gonna—”
"—I don't give two shits about Penpen." Sukuna barks.
Instantly dejected you look down at the penguin in your hands, then back up at Sukuna, eyes filling with tears.
"...Y-You *sniff* don't like Penpen, Kuna?"
Sukuna stares at you.
He’s attempting to put his foot down, to be a hardass. You deserved it for disobeying him and prioritizing some damn stuffed bullshit over your nest.
Yet Sukuna is realizing the more he is around you the harder it is to ignore that damn annoying itch behind his ribs and how his teeth start to grind that whenever you’re unhappy with him—or about anything for that matter. The annoying primal need to care and provide for you biologically wired into him is infuriating at times.
But not this time. This time he's going to resist. To teach you a lesson.
He's not going to give in to a silly fluffy little—
But then you pout, catching one of your tiny canines on the bottom of your soft wobbling lip and Sukuna crumbles like a fresh box of cat litter.
Goddamn it.
"Gimme that fucking thing.”
Sukuna snatches Penpen from you and puts it where he thinks it will go best—cause two things for sure: Gojo lacked both the taste for decoration and the authority to place anything in his damn nest.
You brighten instantly, tears gone as you curl into Sukuna’s side and rub up against him sweetly.
“Awe, I love where you put Penpen best, Kuna~~♡. You’re so good at this!” You coo happily.
Caracal!Sukuna who tries to scowl but his tail swishing proudly gives him away.
Yet this is the crux of the problem—you have no instincts worth the name. Every ounce of territorial wiring in you had been smothered out of you under cashmere blankets, caviar and too many inappropriate belly rubs by your pervert owners who as far as Sukuna was concerned are borderline swingers—Gojo, at least, for sure.
And Sukuna would kill every living thing in this damn conservatory before that happens.
Yet he has to remind himself while the mere thought of Gojo and Geto’s guts shredding in his claws is satisfying as hell—for some reason Caracal!Sukuna can’t stand the thought of you being left all alone after hybrid-control would inevitably catch him and put him down.
He's your mate for goddsake, he couldn't abandon you.
So, he has to transform you into a proper wild feline. Toughen you up. Get some dirt under those dainty little paws of yours, maybe some blood too. Teach you how to hunt.
That's right, Sukuna thinks he should have thought of this sooner. And what more apt time than the present? Wildcat boot camp starts—
Sukuna freezes.
All his thoughts crash into oblivion—you bent in front of him now giving him his own eye full of those sinful little panties you're wearing as your soft lips now placing a chaste kiss on his hakama pants right over his now twitching cock.
You’re nuzzling lower and lower, sniffing up all his musky pheromones simmering in his balls and purring in the sultry tone of yours that might as well be a goddamn pavlovian bell to Sukuna’s ears. As your mate, of course Sukuna knows by the mere pitch of your meows alone just how much that wet pussy of yours is fucking dripping right now—even before he gets a whiff of your intoxicating scent.
Damn. There it is and now he's bricked.
Caracal!Sukuna who will have to re-scent the entryway sooner or later. He'd smell that blue-eyed freak for weeks otherwise. But you're not thinking that far ahead—you're pawing at the hem of his pants, trying to push them down with clumsy, needy hands, your only concern being getting that insatiable little cunt stuffed.
an: sorry this is going to take a lil longer than i originally thought! lmk if you wanna be tagged! if you asked to be tagged on a previous part or are on my 𝐠𝐞𝐧. 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 i will automatically tag you!
