Cerise-lockwood - Cerise Lockwood

who said u had to be liberal or conservative? Just be u and let the crumbs land where they fall.

I believe in trans rights but I just want to be a housewife. I don't think that a house caretaker is what every woman should be nor do I think that every man has to be rich and working. That's just what I want for myself. And I let everyone else worry about what they want. #actually happy with my life and proud

SUKUNA R. LITTLE MISS SECRETARY

wc: 5.4k

DO YOU HAVE AN APPOINTMENT MASTERLIST

sukuna ryomen. notorious for firing his secretaries left and right—and despite the constant doting from your peers’ of this, you apply for an interview. if he wont take assurance in your words, what better way than to prove them—right?

warnings: modern!au, ceo!au, creampię, pssy eating, slight spnking, degradation, seduction, mentions of bawls, raw-doggin’, semi-exhibitionism, deęp-throating, filthy smut. not proofread entirely, may seem repetitive until updated.

[11:00am]

Ryomen Sukuna, infamous for firing his secretaries without regard for their backgrounds or talents. Their appearance—whether pretty or plain—held no sway; if Sukuna disagreed, they were promptly shown the door. 

Gojo leaned back in his chair. Shoes kicked up on the table, rocking his weight to make the chair aloft above the floor in the slightest - before it clunks back down. "Are you sure you're up for this? You do know his secretaries don't even last a week before they're fired, right?"

"Or quit." Geto chimed in with an obnoxious slurp of his drink.

Gojo shrugged. "Exactly my point, even if he does hire you—I'd give it like a week tops."

It wasn’t as if you didn’t know–you were more than aware. And still, you chose to ignore their crude remarks. 

Shoko, who had been silently observing the interaction, finally interjected. Her voice, a soothing balm, countered the mounting concern. "Gentlemen," she asserted, "I think our friend has had her fill of the negativity you keep putting in her head." 

"Thank you, Shoko." You retorted, emphasizing her name with a sigh that mingled thankfulness with a teasing nuance.

"But I'm- you knoww, juust curious," Shoko persisted, her eyes searching yours for an answer. “What makes you want to take up the role of a secretary for him?”

Your friends' questioning looks prompted a brief moment of reflection. Why indeed? The challenge, the thrill, the chance to prove yourself? You knew the answer, but articulating it seemed more discouraging than facing the notorious Ryomen Sukuna himself.

Ryomen Sukuna, a name that sent tremors down spines, loomed large in the headlines. And here you were, recommended for a position under him. Why did you persist, knowing the outcome was likely to remain unchanged?

Your reputation as an efficient secretary preceded you, effortlessly navigating past employers. Your serious organization and unwavering commitment to schedules impressed every employer you’ve worked for. 

Much like any employer, they clung to their stubbornness, refusing to acknowledge your skills or consider promoting you. 

Why? Pure greed.

To make matters worse, you were never compensated fairly for keeping their businesses afloat. Instead, your hard work was consistently overlooked, and someone else often claimed credit for your accomplishments.

You begin to speak, recounting your past experiences, your friends gather around, hanging on every word. "Well, each of my previous bosses had their quirks. Mr. Tanaka was all about efficiency. He'd have me schedule his meetings back-to-back, with no breaks. Taught me how to manage a tight calendar."

Shoko sighed. "Sounds exhausting."

You continued, "Yup. Then there was Ms. Sato. Brilliant mind, but her focus skills were...lacking.”

Geto chuckled, “That’s a bit brutal, isn’t it? No mercy from you, I see.” 

Gojo’s infectious barks of laughter echoes through the coffee shop, turning heads as patrons look over in frowns. “Ouch!” he cries out, feigning injury as Shoko’s elbow connects with a harsh nudge.

“Welll…it’s just that, I practically ran the office for her. It's pretty much where I learned to foresee everyone's needs and you know, take initiative."

"And Oh! Let's not forget Mr. Yamada," you spoke up with a huff. 

“Uh Oh, not Mr. Yamada…” Gojo mocks teasingly, faking a dramatic gasp as he throws his hands in the air.

“Ah, yes Mr. Yamada,” you play along with Gojo’s theatrics, your voice laced with mock solemnity. “He was such a stickler for details. I’m talking—everything had to be perfect from reports to the scuffs on my shoes... So much that perfection became my middle name, if I must add.”

Gojo laughed. "He sounds more controlling than anything."

"More or less," you affirmed. "Though, each one taught me something valuable. That's why I think I can handle Mr. Ryomen. He's just another challenge to overcome." 

Your friends shared glances, their expressions a blend of respect and worry. They understood the futility of doubting your capabilities. Your reputation for transforming challenges into triumphs was well-established.

“T’ah, Indeed, it would be a poor decision on his part to let you go,” Geto concurred, not once doubting your value.

“More like he’d be a serious idiot if he did.” Gojo said, his eyes rolling comically in a show of hatred for the entire idea.

“Besides,” you added with a smirk, “I’ve always enjoyed a good challenge. And Mr. Ryomen? He’s the Everest of bosses. Conquering that peak would be quite the resume highlight, don’t you think?”

Shoko’s giggles joined the chorus of agreement. “Truly, if there’s someone who can manage the notorious Sukuna, it’s you.” 

Eventually, the conversation dove through a tapestry of topics, the cafe becoming a cocoon of your shared jokes and light-hearted banter. 

Time, on the other hand—had places to be. 

As your eyes landed on the plastic clock perched near the register. The benign ticking was a stark reminder that the afternoon’s grace period had expired, stabbing you back as remembrance of your planned afternoon kicked in.

“Oh my gosh- that clock right? Is it 11:30 already?” Your drink almost tipping over as you leaped to your feet.

Shoko’s eyes mirrored your alarm. “Isn’t your interview scheduled for 12?” 

“Yes! How could it slip my mind?” A rush of urgency overtook you as you snatched up your belongings, the voices of your friends merging into a symphony of encouragement and last-minute tips as you dashed through the door and made a beeline for your car.

“Knock em’ dead!!"

[11:35am]

The name ‘COMPANY REP’ plastered on your phone’s lock screen, peering over as your phone flashed through your peripheral view. Feeling a wave of pressure as you read the name, it was Uraume, the representative for Ryomen. 

Shit—you were still a good distance from the company’s location, about an exit to be precise. 

Grabbing your phone from the cup holder, you tapped the green icon to answer. Uraume’s voice crackling through the speaker. “Hello, I’m just checking in about your interview for the secretary role at noon.”

You rose back from the steering wheel, as if it's inscribed in your memory to adopt a more formal posture as the cacophony of honking horns invaded the air around you. “Hello,” you responded, keeping your voice cheerful and composed.

“I’m on my way right now; I got caught up in a lunch rush.” You chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. “But I promise, I’ll be there.”

“Very well,” the representative said, their voice smooth. “I’ll be waiting by the elevator on the top floor when you arrive.” 

Soon after, the line went dead, leaving you with an itching sense of anxiety. 

For a moment, the thought of 'accidentally' skipping the next exit crossed your mind and boy did it sound good right about now.

But could you honestly deny the interest that lit within you? What might lay beyond those translucent doors—an opportunity for a fresh start, perhaps? Or was it the hand of destiny at play? Regardless, you stood ready for whatever awaited you.

[11:57am]

The clock in your head seemed to tick impatiently as you rushed toward the imposing glass doors of the corporation. Your interview was scheduled for noon, and you were already cutting it dangerously close.

You dashed through the revolving doors, the sound of your heels punctuating the quiet of the marble lobby. Approaching the front desk, as you requested a temporary ID pass. “Good afternoon, I’m here for the secretary position interview at 12 p.m.”

“Oh yeah! Uraume mentioned your appointment. Here’s your guest pass. The elevator to your left will take you straight to the top floor,” the receptionist replied. 

“Thank you kindly,” you responded with a gracious smile. 

“No problem, I’ll inform Uraume that you’re on your way up.” she added.

Pass in hand, you pivoted toward the elevator. The cool marble underfoot seemed to resonate with the flutter of nerves within you. The rhythmic click of your heels on the stone served as a metronome to your thoughts, each step a beat closer to a potentially life-changing interview. 

The elevator was a sleek, modern contraption, its steel doors reflecting your anxious expression. You pressed the button for the top floor, and as the doors slid shut, you were enclosed in a small, quiet world. The only sound was the tinny melody of the elevator, a constant drone that mirrored your heart's unkempt thump. 

As the elevator climbed, thoughts tumbled through your mind. Was stepping into this role the correct move? With the odds stacked against success, what made you different? Doubts swirled in your mind, each one more insistent than the last.

Soon, the elevator came to a lurching stop, and you were pulled from your thoughts. As doors slid open, you were greeted by the sight of Uraume, whose presence was like a beacon, cutting through the fog of your doubts. 

Well shit, no turning back now.

Emerging from the elevator your eyes met with Uraume’s. Their face gave nothing away, yet their voice carried a note of caution. "I’d advise you to mind your words with Mr. Ryomen. He has little patience for ignorance."

You hummed with a tentative nod, you seemed to be endlessly made aware of Mr. Ryomen's reputation. Especially since your friends found out you were going to this interview—not a second went by where they didn’t bring it up. You felt as if you understood more than anyone how some barely lasted a day.

With a determined pep in your step, you proceeded down the dimly lit corridor, Uraume's silent presence a step behind.

Mr. Ryomen or rather—Sukuna, was a man of striking features, no doubt. His salmon-colored hair was always impeccably styled, and his piercing eyes held an intensity that could make anyone’s heart prone to failure. His sharp jawline was accentuated by a usually neatly shaven face, and his tailored suits always seemed too tight around his muscular build. He carried an air of authority and charisma that was both intimidating and captivating.

His allure extended beyond mere aesthetics. As one of the nation's elite CEOs, his reputation was built on groundbreaking tactics and bold leadership. His guidance propelled the company to new heights of prosperity and influence, cementing its status as a powerhouse in the business world.

Sukuna’s popularity was not just about his charisma either; it was his professional acumen that had everyone vying for his attention. Aspiring candidates flocked, eager for the chance to bask in his aura and absorb his energy. Expectably, they fell short. Sukuna’s expectations seemed to soar to stratospheric levels, ones that even NASA would find daunting to align with.

And you’d be lying if you didn’t find yourself wondering what it could be like by his side. Waking up everyday with a pool in your panties—because you’d get to see your attractive boss calling your name by his side with need. 

As Sukuna’s success and influence grew, so did his reluctance to admit the need for support. The absence of a secretary began to take its toll on the productivity of his team, especially his representative’s. 

Snapping you out of your thoughts as Uraume halted just before Sukuna’s office door. “Good luck,” they offered, before making their way back to the elevator. You adjusted your form-fitting dress, a mix of poise and nerves. Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you knocked with a dense one, two - three on the door.

"You may enter."

[12:02pm]

As you step into his office, the reality of the situation settles in. 

Here was the man who had graced countless headlines, a visionary whose name was synonymous with success. Though, as terrifyingly lurking as the prospect was, you were determined to not just be another face in the crowd.

This was your chance, the moment of truth. Most of which people never got.

As your gaze met his, there was an undeniable pull towards the depth of his eyes, a fierce intensity that held a world of ambition and insight.

It's as if his gaze was trying to unravel you, like pieces of a puzzle, but you don't let it.

Sukuna sat there, the very picture of corporate elegance, his presence commanding the space around him. His scent, bespoke and expensive, filled the room with an air of dominance, while his hair, a striking shade of muted pink with whispers of black, framing his face perfectly.

Your heart races, but not out of fear – no, it's exhilaration. This is what you’ve prepared for, all those late nights, every challenging task, every impossible deadline you’ve made possible.

He caught you in the act of admiring him, a knowing smirk proud on his lips. "Enjoyin’ the view?" he tugs, before his expression shifted to one of business-like seriousness. "Uraume has mentioned your potential. It’d be best not to waste that." 

The challenge was set, and the interview began.

“Thank you,” you replied, trying to keep your nerves in check. “I’ve always believed in simplicity.”

His eyebrow arched. “Simplicity?”

“Yes,” you said, leaning forward. “Complexity often masks inefficiency. A straightforward approach can yield remarkable results.”

He leaned back, intrigued. “Most people stumble over their words when they meet me.”

“You’ll find…” you begin, holding his gaze with unwavering poise, “that I’m not one to follow the common trend.”

Tilting his head to the side, his eyes narrow. “That remains to be seen.”

For the next few minutes, the interview wove through a conversation of intellect and subtlety. You navigated his inquiries with finesse, sidestepped the snares he laid, and even managed to steal a laugh from him. As time ticked on, a frisson of worry tinged your nerves, Uraume's cautionary words a distant murmur.

Sukuna's voice, a resonant timbre, stirred the air. His incisive gaze seemed to dissect your very thoughts. "Enlighten me, what makes you believe you deserve the job of working for me?"

You inhaled deeply, your reply sulking in assurance, "Mr. Ryomen, my expertise aligns perfectly with your needs. And when it comes to managing your expectations," you trailed, a sly smile plastering on your lips, "I have a knack for exceeding them in the most unexpected ways."

His eyes locked with yours, unwavering. "You're confident you're the one?"

"Without a doubt," you affirmed. "It's often the unassuming key that unlocks the door to brilliance."

He reclined, a contemplative shadow crossing his features. His stare never faltered. "You have a way with words," he observed, a trace of vindication in his voice.

"However, words alone are commonplace. Tell me, how will you demonstrate that you're more than just a woman with commendable references?"

You collected your thoughts, your confidence unshaken. "Mr. Ryomen," you began, your tone imbued with conviction, "I'm a believer in the showance of action. Grant me the chance, and I assure you, my performance will not only meet but eclipse your…high standards."

Wonder sparked in his eyes, a subtle smile embarking at the corners of his mouth. "Oh?" he intoned, the word hanging in the air, ripe with expectation. "Well then, I await the proof of your claims, Miss…?" His tone dipped, a whisper of question in the quiet space between you.

"Think of me as your right hand, Mr. Ryomen," you replied softly, your voice steady despite the intensity of the moment. "I'm here to ensure that your every need is met, with precision and a personal touch."

His gaze was unyielding, tracking your every movement, a longing in the depths of his eyes. He observed you closely, a silent notice of your boldness. The air between you was charged, a palpable tension that spoke volumes more than words ever could. 

Without waiting for a response, you motion around the desk. Circling the desk with calculated steps, you maintained eye contact, now before him. Mere inches away from his face—the moment was ripe with possibility, the beginning of a partnership that could redefine the very essence of collaboration. 

And slowly, you begin to unbutton your dress, exposing a bra with lace details that drew attention to your tender breasts. 

"I'll be your right hand in the office," you murmur, letting your dress slide off your shoulders, just barely baring your smooth, supple skin. "And your left hand..." You trace his strong jawline with your fingers, savoring the slight stubble. "...whenever you crave a touch of pleasure."

Sukuna's eyes darken in covetous as he sinks in your intentions. "Impressive initiative, but it'll take more than that to convince me, beautiful. I have very specific requirements and expectations that need to be met."

Unpersuaded, you choose to escalate your lure on him. Feeling the firmness of his growing erection pressing against your thighs, you straddle his lap. Your grin - sluggish, your folds damp with elation in your panties as you hush, "I plan to take care of all of your needs, Mr. Ryomen. Actually—I intend to surpass them."

[12:30pm]

His breath retracted, as you pressed your soft breasts against his pecs and began to undo his suit jacket, exposing his toned, muscular chest. 

Your fingers trailed down his warm skin, sending goosebumps through his body as you explicitly avoided the growing bulge in his slacks.

“Mmm, Mr. Ryomenn—I know you’re aching," you murmur, your fingertips tantalizingly weaving over his torso. "And I have just the perfect remedy to alleviate that stress. Shall I show you?"

Sukuna nods in agreement, his eyes broadening, feeling a surge of lust that leaves him thirsty. The curiosity about your limits conquering over his mind.

You slip off his lap, your body slithering to the floor on your knees, your lips forming up into an enticing grin. With slow, careful manuvers, you undo his belt and unzip his fly, peeling the material back to release his thick, hard cock. A soft moan escapes your lips as you take in the sight of his length, throbbing with urgent need.

You take the tip into your comforting, wet mouth, swirling your tongue around the sensitive head, tasting the sweet dribbles of pre-cum. Humming with delight, sending vibrations through his core as you take in more of him, sucking gently.

Sukuna's eyes just want to roll back in pure pleasure—a deep groan escaping his lips. "Mnh, is that tha’ best you can do?" His right hand rests atop your head, ghostingly guiding you as to respect your pace.

It’s all just motivation, as you suck harder, taking him deeper until your eyes start to water from the intensity. You hollow your cheeks; as you take him the deepest you can go with a gag. Your head bobs up and down, your hands gently cupping his heavy balls.

"That's ittt—suck me, show me how bad y’wanna be m’ lil secretary," he grunts, his hips thrusting in rhythm with your mouth. "That fuckin’ mouth s’gon’ be the death of me."

Your actions are fueled by his words, whining in return as your thighs rub together nothing but static—yearning for some attention. You slip a hand through your panties, slipping a finger in your aching cunt, feening for your own release.

He observes the scene below him, almost studying as you multitask your way through the pleasure. Ensuring not a single strand of his clothing gets into contact with the filthy mix of your saliva and his pre-cum. Admiring the way you finger your dependent pussy, all the while taking him so deep down your throat, managing to slobber down to the base of his cock and swallow everything back up like it never existed. 

You take pride in your work, and he was now experiencing it. In fact, if anything it turned him on more. He might even have to make you his toy if you kept on. 

Sensing you're close to the edge, Sukuna suddenly pulls his cock out of your throat with a disgusting pop. His cock now drenched in fluids from your lovely torment. “Aht aht, Strip.”

You obey his orders without hesitation, his eyes roaming your body as you strip. Visibly tracing every curve in your silhouette. Fantasizing the things you might have in store for him, his dick twitches against his skin, swelling more and more each second. 

“There y’go, stick that ass out f’me.” He stares at you - appetizingly, becoming ravenous at the way you're already hunched over his handcrafted mahogany desk. 

In a matter of seconds, purely to provide him a better view.

You braced your weight on the edges of the cold surface. Pressed palms onto the glossy wood—hypnotizing him as you began to squirm your ass in his direction. 

"Like this, Mr. Ryomen?" you spoke as if you were completely innocent, your lashes moving in a way that made it appear like you weren't attempting to play coy.

Maybe in another universe he’d fall for it—but not in this one. He delivers a sharp slap to your ass cheek, leaving a stinging sensation that only makes your pussy wetter. "You jus’ keep gettin’ sluttier and sluttier, huh?" 

He snakes his veiny hand between your legs, thanks to the pad of his thumb, he prods at your delicate clit, reaching a soft whimper out of your throat. You attempt to clamp your legs together, but his big hands keep them apart as he proceeds to drive two of his fingers deep in you—instantaneously, without any delay.

"You’r so fuckin’ wet f’me." He taunts, his breath hot against your ear. "You like that, don' you?" His fingers slide in and out, his thumb continuously twisting at your burning clit.

"Y-Yes Sir…" you cry out, your body becoming weaker under his touch. 

"Sukuna." He cuts off with a sinister chuckle, "Call me Sukuna."

You nod frantically, your hips doing all the talking as you mindlessly drag onto the lengths of his fingers. Grinning wolfishly, he moves his thumb in slow circles, working your clit. "Well, aren't you just a sight for sore fuckin’ eyes?"

"Oh my fuck- it feels so good nmmh!" you breathe out, panting heavily.

“Yeah? I bet.” he laughs, adding a third finger, stretching you out deliciously.

He drove his fingers sickeningly deep into you, your pussy canal squeezing around them, seeking for more.

His persistent botherence made you gasp for air as you fought to keep your composure. Sukuna leaned in, his lips coming into contact with your neck, delivering a forceful bite.

“Mngh–Kuna’ ts’ hurts! P-please I wan’uh cuhm..!-” You cried out, arching your back—grinding your ass further against him in advance.

His fingers gradually came to a quit as he withdrew from your neck.

Your expression crumbling at his actions, “Please- don’ stop.” 

But Sukuna doesn't let you have it. He pulls his fingers out of you completely—just as you're prepared to dive over the edge, leaving you empty and writhing in dissatisfaction. 

He then raised them to his mouth, never breaking eye contact with you. He savored the taste with an exaggerated moan, letting out a contented sigh.

“You’re so fucking mmhn- delicious.” he murmured.

“Please…”

Sukuna's lips formed a sadistic smile as he lowly chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Please what?"

You picked at your bottom lip with your teeth, your thighs rubbing together like two wet sticks trying to starting a fire. Your pussy begged for more. "Please...fuck me.." you pleaded, your voice trembling.

"Not yet," Sukuna shook his head. "Get on the desk."

You hastily climb onto the desk, heeding to his instructions to avoid wasting any more unnecessary time. Relishing the brash feeling of the cold wood fatally against your back. 

You’re embarrassingly exposed now—wide open for the man in front of you. The same man who’s about to search for your soul with his mouth. The same man who doesn’t plan on quitting until your dignities on his tongue–that is, if you had any left. 

"Goood girl." He smirks, kneeling down between your legs. Forcefully restricting you from closing your legs as he peels them apart. You can feel the cool air of the room on your wet pussy. Shivering in anticipation as he darts his tongue out. Exploring every inch of your folds as he sucks them apart with hunger. 

You possess handfuls of his hair—overflowing around your fingers, moaning as you draw him in suffocatingly. Fleeing your fingers through his strands rougher—when he hits - that spot.

"Mnghm–you’re sh’o fuckin tasty aren’tcha?" he whispers against your clit.

“Hnn…!” Unable to speak or barely catch your breath, you can feel your orgasm building again so easily, except this time you're not going to let him stop you. 

He runs his tongue over your clit—your fingertips tightening in his hair as you hold him in place. 

You feel his stubble graze your inner thighs, his hot breath fanning over your slick folds, making you needier. He provokes your desperate shouts for more - laughing at how the octaves in your voice only seem to keep raising. But you can't help the moan that escapes your lips when his tongue flicks over your clit.

"Fuck, Sukuna…s’too m-much..!" you breathe. 

He’s good—too good at this. 

He chuckles against your cunt. His fingers digging snug into your thighs, holding you down as he continues to entice you, not once letting up for air.

“Yeah? Mgnh, s’that why r’you grippin’ m’ hair so fuckin’ mmhnguh tight?—” He licks and sucks on your puffy clit—sliding two of his fingers back inside you, fucking quicker than he did before. He's devouring everything he can like a vacuum - drowning in your folds as he does so.

You're so close, so fucking close, but he still won't let you cum. You can feel the orgasm burning inside you, your whole body tensing up as you try to hold back. But it's no use, you can't fight it any longer.

Sukuna knows it too, and he redoubles his efforts, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the edge. You can feel your breath shortening as you gradually get closer, until you can't take it anymore, your orgasm preparing to rip through you like a freight train. 

"Please, Suh-S-Sukuna, can’ h-hold it gon’a…cumnnh!" 

He looks up at you, a carnivorous desire in his tone. "Beg for it," he growls, his tongue melting over your clit again.

“Please, Kuna’, I'm begging you. P-Please let me cum…!”

He smirks, the taste buds on his tongue roaming faster over your cunt. "Go on baby, cuhm f’me like a lil slut," he murmurs, his fingers digging into your thighs brutally.

“Ahhnn–S’Kuna n’ cummin’..!” Your whole body quivers as you succumb to his charm, your orgasm overwhelmingly taking you. His tongue sucks on your pussy—gulping down your substances.

Descending from your euphoria, he begins to stand up. His hands, his face, his entire body—now saturated in your concoction.

[1:02PM]

Disregarding his shirt over his head and tossing it to the side. His pants follow quickly after, leaving him standing in front of you with nothing but his boxers. You can see the outline of his hard cock through the fabric, and you can't wait to get your hands on it.

Sukuna hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers and timelessly pulled them down. You licked your lips in conviction.

He reached out and cupped your chin in his palm, his thumb smoothing over your jaw. "You want this job don't you?," he whispered, his voice clouded in vanity. 

You looked up at him, and nodded—your eyes following his lips. 

“Use your words.” 

“Yes, Mr—S-Sukuna, I do.” He leaned down and kissed you, his tongue delving deep into your mouth. His lips were on yours, his tongue messily racing through your mouth. 

You could feel the heaviness of his cock brushing past your leg, prompting you—of what was coming next.

“Y’gonna keep it all inside like a good girl right? Not g’nna spill any of it?.”

“Mhm! Gonna be a good girl, ‘Kuna..—” He placed his hands on the sides of your head as you laid back—the hard wooden desk becoming your only security. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the scent of his cologne, and sex - becoming intoxicating. 

Sukuna moaned into your mouth as you brought a hand below you and started to stroke him, his hips thrusting forward in time with your strokes. Dissolving into your touch before he broke the kiss, he looked down at you.

"Need’ t’be inside you," he seethed.

“M’ all yours, Mr. ‘Kuna…” You wanted him inside you just as much as he wanted to be there. 

Sukuna grabbed your calves—hauling you towards the edge of the desk, positioning you so that his cock was aimed methodically at your oh, so—more than ready cunt. 

He made a single, resentful, forceful thrust that went deep into you. You inhaled sharply at the newfound fullness, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock surging through your walls.

“Ahnn!..f-fuck-” you hiccuped as he started to fuck you harder. Inevitably slamming himself into you while lowering down to get hold of your hips—using them as leverage. 

"Ts’like she’s made f’me," he grunted, his brows are pinched, the sight of sweat accumulating around his eyes, irritably blurring his line of sight. "Tight, wet, ‘nd fuck…perfect for my cock." 

Sukuna began to roughly pound into you, each of his thrusts making you scream his name—resembling that of a prayer. His fingers now bruising into the flesh of your hips.

He was relentless, each stroke more forceful than the last. He made your legs weaken as he fucked you soulfully, the desk beneath you visibly quaking with each impact. Creaking with complaints as the legs of the table shook violently.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper into you with each thrust. You could feel another orgasm ready to burst through, the pleasure coiling within your belly as Sukuna's cock drilled into your guts. You pathetically clung to him, clawing at his back for some sort of stability other than the shaking table underneath you.

The sound of your bodies filled the room as the noise of his balls smashing into your ass reverberated. With every thrust that brought you closer to the brink, you could feel the heat of your own need enveloping inside of you.

"Ahn…! Don't stop, don't stop, p-please..!-" you cried out, your voice hardly audible anymore. 

So, of course Sukuna’s only response was to fuck you harder, his hips ramming into yours with a force that made you see stars. 

“F-Fuck…y’r cunts gonna squeeze me f-fuckin dry..”

“G-Give it t’me ‘K-Kunauh…!-” You chanted in desperation. His thrusts became more erratic at your vowels, his hips bucking wildly as he approached his own release. You could feel his cock cruelly plowing inside you, assaulting everything in its way, leaving no room for pity. 

“Hughn- fuck..fuck…fuck..” He reiterated, guttural moans dropping from his throat as his cock probed inside you, signaling his impending release. 

You tightened your muscles around him, you could feel his cum filling you up, each second his cock rested in you, was another second that caused your walls to pulse tight around him, confirming—he didn’t finish until the very last drop. As he subsided you into your own climax, the nubs of your feet kept him still. Milking his cock of anything he had to give as you both came.

[1:29pm]

BRRING BRRING BRRING

Being brought into consciousness, the noise of his office phone pulls you out of your lucidity—your naked bodies sweaty and worn yet, still exuding warmth from one another. 

"Fuck," he grunted, pulling away from you and reaching for the phone.

"Ryomen here," he sighs into the receiver, his expression glum as he listens to his receptionist's next words.

Whilst you hurriedly put your clothes back on, you maintain your eyes on him, your body still stiff from the unnerving orgasms he had just tore from you. Sore from the constant torment he had inflicted upon your insides like a curse. 

A curse you hoped for.

"Yes, I know, but I'm in the middle of something right now," Sukuna said, his eyes flicking over to you.

With a smile on your face, you gestured to him to continue. 

"I want it to be canceled," Sukuna kept on, his eyes never leaving yours.

The voice on the other end of the line stuttered, “But s-sir, it’s an important meet-”

Sukuna cut her off, his tone firm. “I said cancel it. I’m busy.”

“But Mr. Ryomen, the client…-”

“I don’t care.” Sukuna interrupted again, his gaze still locked with yours. His eyes were soft, a stark contrast to the harsh tone he was using on the phone. “You scheduled it, so cancel it.”

He hung up and tossed the phone back onto his desk without any thought. He smiled softly as he turned back to face you. 

“Now…where were we?” 

You couldn’t help but giggle, the tension from the phone call dissipating. “I think…we were at the part where you tell me if I got the job or not.” 

Sukuna erupted with laughter, amused. He grins "Is that right?"

“Tsk–well, in that case...” he paused, calamity radiating in his charming smile. “Better start memorizin' the way I like my tea.”

You laughed against his words, your voice resonating through his office. “And how is that?” you asked.

“Two sugars, dash of milk, brewed strong. Don’t forget.”

“Two sugars, a dash of milk, anddd brewed strong,” you repeated, a cheeky smile on your lips. “Got it.”

“Good.” 

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