Sukuna Sitting Novels & Stories

"Did you forget about me, darling?" I tried to push him away but that wasn't of any help "Stop resisting Hikari otherwise you know what all I can do" I feared his words and stopped resisting at once. "What do you want, Sukuna!" I spoke out of irritation. Sukuna is a senior, a person of a higher authority of those I work for, he's no better than the head of the organization. He's rotten to the core, and all he desires is the work to be done, things to be handled all the way he likes it to be.

Vihaan sat on sukoon bed, his thoughts wandering as he stared into the distance. Sukoon, his loyal canine companion, lay at his feet, his head resting on his paws. In the midst of the calm, Vihaan's fingers idly traced the intricate patterns on the bedspread. He turned his gaze to Sukoon, his eyes filled with a mixture of affection and contemplation. The room was quiet, except for the faint rustling of leaves outside the window, carried by a gentle breeze.

The huntress seated opposite her was as sleepy as she was until her green eyes bulged at the first picture, enlarging it with the touchpad, too stunned to consider lifting her laptop like her colleague. Abbott wasn’t doing any better, face paling in dismay before closing his eyes to convey a silent prayer. ### In the evening when the golden light shared the sky with an array of colors before the purple and blue gradually submerged the radiant palette, Kenji Suzuki, the representative from the east who called, met them outside the taped perimeter. Greeting his colleagues from the west with formal handshakes but said hi to Sushmita with a hug that even shocked the Chief Octopus herself, he whi

“Just us.” Breakfast waited in the same serene dining room as before. Low table, floor cushions, the gentle clink of porcelain against lacquer. Sakura wore pale lavender today, her hair pinned with a single jade comb shaped like a crane. Haruto sat at the head in quiet charcoal, already reviewing something on a slim tablet while sipping matcha. Dante,black cashmere sweater, dark jeans, sleeves pushed to his elbows, settled beside me, one hand resting casually on my thigh beneath the table the moment we knelt.

Maybe find a clue everyone else missed. The lab was quieter than the main floor. The wide, communal tables were scattered with sketch pads, colored pencils, mock-up printouts, and the occasional forgotten coffee cup. Monitors glowed, some still active with half-open design files. The air was cool and still, filled with the faint hum of cooling fans. And Suzan was there. Alone. Her dark hair was pulled into a tight bun, a few strands escaping around her temples. She sat at the corner station, typing furiously. Her back was rigid, her movements stiff. She hadn’t noticed me yet—or maybe she had and was pretending not to.

He left her bathroom and walked down the stairs not knowing what to expect when he got there, but his dick seemed very anxious to find out. At the bottom of the stairs, he saw Susan sitting on the couch facing him. She was totally naked with her hands on her knees. At first he didn't see that a naked guy was sitting under her. Her feet were tucked into the back of the cushion and her knees were at the front with the teenage guy sitting between her legs. Susan motioned him over. As he walked into the living room, he saw that his dick was buried in her ass and he was doing all the work as he rocked his hips up and down. He stopped halfway across the room but Susan motioned him closer.

Her expression hadn’t changed in the last half hour: a sort of deadpan absorption that said she wasn’t really reading, just letting the words blur together. Mika was curled up in an armchair, hoodie drawn tight around her, eyes half-lidded, one sock hanging off her foot. She looked about three minutes away from unconsciousness, if that. Samuel was at the coffee table, flipping a karambit between his fingers with practiced ease. Every so often he’d pause to tilt it toward the light, as if examining some divine relic. The soft click of metal was oddly soothing.

Then, Muhammad and Susan sat on the dark silk cushions scattered around the circle. Muhammad sat rigidly, his eyes wide with anticipation, trying to control the trembling of his hands, his heart pounding with an inexplicable mixture of fear and fascination. Susan, sitting beside him, held her breath, feeling a strange chill creep through her limbs, as if the very air around the old man was slowly drawing warmth from her. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and fear, gazing into the face of the sun of ages, where serenity mingled with majesty. His amber eyes seemed to read her soul without a word.

Odette nodded. "Sakuniyas, please do your best," I wasn't letting Saku, or Odette, off the hook. "I do not make idle boasts, Ish...Wakko Ishara," Saku gave a shark-like grin. "Now, why don't you tell me more of Alal?" Fuck.

Meanwhile, Karina just surrendered when Susan pulled her. Inside the building, everyone was already sitting in their respective chairs. Karina took a seat in the far corner. Susan had already walked over to Saka who was sitting with Edo. Edo was Saka's old friend. Edo was as nerdy as Saka. The difference was, Edo never glowed up. The man still wore thick glasses with his shirt tucked in. “Hi,” said Susan, sitting next to Saka. Her eyes lit up as if she had met her future husband. “I’ve never seen you before. What’s your name?”