A Political Affair Sukuna x Reader

Breaking the Silence

The next morning, you wake up and rub your eyes. Realizing how exposed you are with the towel loosely draped around you, you quickly wrap it tighter and search for some casual clothes.

Once dressed in a long-sleeved black crop top, leggings, and fluffy socks, you stretch, feeling like a new person. You head downstairs for coffee and breakfast. As you enter the kitchen, you notice Sukuna in his usual spot, a cigarette hanging from his lips while he cleans an array of weapons laid out on the table.

His back is turned, his tight shirt showing off his well-defined muscles. The house is quiet, save for the soft clinking of Sukuna's guns and the faint scent of cigarette smoke. You shuffle to the coffee pot, pour a cup, and add creamer. The aroma fills the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, you sigh in bliss. Glancing at Sukuna, you wonder if he ever drinks coffee or sticks solely to cigarettes.

Taking a deep breath, you muster the courage to speak.

"Morning." When he ignores you, you add with sarcasm, "Sleep well?"

He exhales smoke, the silence more cutting than words.

"Not much of a talker today? That's okay. I can talk enough for both of us." You force a smile, hoping to ease the tension.

Your voice cuts through his haze, his hands freezing on a pistol before resuming their task. You bite your lip, frustrated. Determined not to be ignored, you press on.

"I watched 'The Menu' the other day. It was intense and kinda creepy. You should watch it."

His expression remains neutral. You can't tell if he's ignoring you or just too focused on his task, but it irks you.

"Sukuna, I know you can hear me. Ignoring me won't make me go away," you say with a slight smile, determined to break through his wall.

Your eyes meet his, and for a brief moment, his gaze falters. A faint hint of red appears on his face before fading. Your heart skips a beat as you try to decipher his expression.

"Good, you're listening," you continue, softening your tone. "Could you ease up on the glares? And the smoking—it's kind of gross. I'm just trying to get to know you, the person protecting me."

Exhaling deeply, Sukuna responds, "It's the morning, Sweetheart. It's too early for your mouth right now. If I answer a question, will you shut the fuck up? I like peace and quiet while I'm working." His baritone voice sends a shiver down your spine. His grip on the pistol tightens briefly, a flicker of irritation crossing his face. The job was supposed to be simple—protect you, keep you safe, and stay detached. Yet, your persistent attempts to break through his walls are making it harder to remain indifferent. Why do you make it so difficult to keep his distance?

As he takes another drag, the cigarette illuminates his face. You hate how undeniably attractive he is. He smirks, noticing the rosy color in your cheeks, raising an eyebrow, curious to see what you'll say next.

'Why does he have to look at me like that?'

You huff slightly. Being annoying might be your best bet to get his attention. If it works, it works.

"YES! Anything. Please talk!" You smile happily, leaning against the counter, holding the warm mug of coffee between your palms.

Sighing again, his head dips down, a slight smile spreading across his face.

"You're like a dog, always eager for attention," he remarks, turning toward you.

Frowning slightly, you sigh and cross your arms. "You're so rude. Is it that hard for you to act friendly? It's not so bad; you could try it at least one time."