A Political Affair Sukuna x Reader

🌸Passion, Power, Pain & Pleasure🌸 Pt1

Since your heated encounter with Sukuna, tension lingered—thick and heavy. His smirk and the promise he spoke of still haunted you long after he walked away.

Each glance, each sharp exchange, only fueled the dangerous game between you. The night of the almost-hookup, had left the door wide open for both of you to act, but nothing happened. He hadn't touched you, nor said anything suggestive afterward. It was as if it never happened, but you both knew better.

No matter how hard you tried, the sexual tension crackled with the slightest provocation. Sukuna's 'fuck with me and find out' attitude was both a challenge and a temptation—one that became harder to resist as time passed. The more he ignored you, the more determined you became to break his cool, and he knew it.

As you worked to distract yourself, it became clear Sukuna wasn't just leaving a physical mess behind—he had gotten in your head and was testing your patience, your composure. His quiet resolve was grating, wearing you down.

This morning, you had busied yourself with work, trying to regain some sense of normalcy. But with all your personal tasks completed, you resorted to cleaning the house—anything to get your mind off him. You started upstairs, moving from room to room, desperate to distract yourself. By the time you made your way downstairs, frustration gnawed at you. Dirty dishes cluttered the sink, cigarette butts littered the floor, and snack wrappers were carelessly scattered around. You knew it hadn't looked like this when you came down for breakfast.

Sukuna. It's like he did this on purpose.
Every piece of trash and dish felt like a taunt, daring you to confront him.

And it worked.

You marched into the living room, fists clenched. Sukuna lay sprawled across the couch watching tv, with an infuriating smirk already plastered on his face, as if he'd been waiting for you.

"Okay, that's it," you spat, hands on your hips. "What the hell is wrong with you? It did not look like a damn pigsty when I was down here earlier!" You stepped closer, your voice rising. "It's like you did this on purpose!"

His eyes flicked to you, lips curling. "Maybe I did. What're you gonna do about it?"

You squinted, fighting the urge to slap him upside the head.

The challenge in his voice, so calm and smug, was like gasoline on a fire. Your teeth clenched, fists tightening at your sides. He wanted you to lose it. That much was clear. But you weren't going to give him the satisfaction.

"You're not usually this messy. Clean it up."

Sukuna stretched lazily, reclining further. "Not my job, princess. I'm here to protect you, not scrub floors." His feet landed on the coffee table with a thud, his smirk widening. "Oh, and you missed a spot over there."

You grabbed the remote and snapped the TV off, met only with his scowl. "Either help me clean up this mess—right fucking now—or I'll kick your ass." Your eyes flared. You didn't miss the way his gaze shifted, responding to your rising temper. "You're seriously driving me crazy! And stop leaving cigarette butts all over the damn floor, God."

"Kick my ass, huh? That right, princess? Let me remind you—" Sukuna sat up slowly, leaning forward. "If you start a fight, I'm not holding back." The way he said it sent chills down your spine, the husky drawl wrapping around your neck. He sounded like a sex incarnate, and you both knew it.

You blinked, your resolve crumbling. Shit.

"Shut up, Sukuna," you grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, your anger finally getting the better of you. He caught it effortlessly, his grin widening. You moved over, picking up his pack of cigarettes you crushed in front of him, before waving them around teasingly in his face. "Your dirty habit doesn't include throwing your butts on my floor, sweetie," you retorted.