BLAH!

“You can’t blame me.” Sukuna says, large hand tensing as it runs down to rest on your waist, “you’re looking at me like that, all hot and angry, and you don’t expect me to wanna bend you over and fuck all of your attitude out?”

“I don’t-“ you choke, tensing when a thumb swipes over your bottom lip, “I don’t have an attitude, I’m just pissed you broke my vase-“

Sukuna is close now, lips only an inch away from yours. His nose brushes past your jaw as he skirts sharp teeth over your pulse point, tongue flicking out just barely to ensure you lose your train of thought.

“Sure, you don’t.” He breathes, pressing a lazy, open-mouthed kiss to your neck. “Still gonna fuck you.”

And oh, does Sukuna like to keep promises.

“You’re such a- hah- fucking asshole!” You moan, smushed into the pillows and flat on your stomach as Sukuna lies his full weight upon your back.

“What was that, baby?” He says, salmon tufts of hair tickling the skin of your shoulder when he leans down to suck at your skin.

“I s-said- mmfh!” A huge hand plants itself firmly on the back of your skull and shoves your face into the pillowcase even harder than before; drool soaks into the fabric from your open mouth as words fall flat.

“I can’t hear you.” Your boyfriend snickers, punctuating his mockery with a few relentless thrusts. Slick dribbles onto the sheets, and you mentally note down another thing to get mad at him about.

Angry sex with Sukuna is one thing, snarling teeth and sharp nails, but sex when it’s just you angry? Another thing entirely.

You’re so, so indignant- when you’d shoved him into the room, tongue furiously pushing against his as you wriggled out of your clothes, your intention was to lie him out flat and really hand it to him.

Which would have happened, had Sukuna not tossed you onto the mattress face-first like a ragdoll.

What an asshole!

“Hate you-“ you gasp, clawing at the sheets, painfully aware of how deep his cock is when you feel it practically bruise your cervix on every pass. You'd slap him out of fury if you weren't so sure he'd probably just moan and lick your palm.

“Are you sure?” Sukuna laughs, teeth digging into your shoulder. He knows you hate when he does that, because ‘I can’t wear a tank with this!’ and ‘what if Shoko sees?’

He doesn’t really understand the whole ‘what-if-Shoko-sees’ thing, because Sukuna is more than glad to show his friends the marks you leave all over him. Ranging from scrabbling, deep criscrosses of nail lines across his back to the purple bruises your mouth leaves, they never hear the end of it.

You hate when he does that, too.

“You obviously don’t hate me enough, do you, because I can feel your little cunt sucking me in every time I bite.”

You can’t argue with that, you begrudgingly admit to yourself; you are clenching around him, around the blunt pressure he keeps providing your sweet spots with as gloss dribbles out of your pussy and squelches between your hips.

“M’gonna cum-“ you splutter out, biting your lower lip and futilely kicking your legs about.

“Hold it.” It’s not a request- it’s an instruction; you wriggle under him, spine twitching into a curve, and wait.

“Shit, shit-“ he grits his teeth, enamel clenching, and cums.

You take it as permission- crying out and cumming around him, fluttering through each peak as Sukuna’s hips never falter in their pace.

It fills you up- as usual- and drips out in thick swathes that make you cringe when he dips to swipe his fingers through the mess.

Lips press softly to your nape.

“Banned.” You pant, catching your breath to roll onto your back and swatting away Sukuna’s tattooed hands when they reach conspicuously towards your bare tits. “No tits- and I’m still mad about the vase.”

Sukuna sulks uncharacteristically, thumb just brushing the underside of your chest. “What vase?”

ೃ࿔*:･

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a/n: this was so fun to write LMFAO I love arguing with men

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Sukuna is about to respond with his own opinion that, once you come into contact with his unbridled amounts of energy, Yuji Itadori is not cute- his pierced lips hang open, poised and ready to speak, until you move to scoop Yuji’s friend into your arms and Sukuna stands there stupidly.

“Nobara!” You beam, “how was school?”

She grins proudly. “Really great! Me and Yuji spoke to Megumi all day, but he had to leave early to see the- the dentist.” She whispers quietly, voice dropping as she looks around like the dentist in question will jump out of a nearby bush, “I hope his teeth are okay.”

“I’m sure they are.” You laugh and turn to Yuji, who’s trying to climb Sukuna like a tree, little tongue poked out in concentration as he tries to scale his leg. “Oh, you’re here for Yuji!” You say surprisedly, “you aren’t Jin.”

“Definitely not.” Sukuna grumbles, pulling Yuji away from his jeans with one hand and little strength required.

“Yeah, this is my Uncle Kuna!” Yuji beams, hugging Sukuna’s leg, smile like sunshine as you take Nobara’s backpack from her. “He’s really tall, and mean- but not to me!- and cool, and he has loadssss of tattoos, and he uses bad words-“

“Brat.” Sukuna mutters, before turning back to you and trying his best to recover. “Wow, I didn’t know they let siblings do pick ups.”

Nobara rolls her eyes. “She’s my mommy, idiot.” Sukuna glares at her- the one time he comes to collect Yuji, the one time a pretty lady seems interested in him, and it’s ruined by her daughter?

You giggle, and the sound melts like honey in Sukuna’s ears; you really are pretty, he thinks, eyeing up the warmth in your face and the motherly lilt to your voice when you speak to Nobara. And he definitely isn’t looking at the tiny sliver of cleavage your top affords him.

“We’re going home, Yuji.” He says abruptly, tossing his squirmy nephew over his shoulder despite his squealing protests. You take Nobara’s hand in yours to walk, umbrellas catching the splashing rainfall while she jumps in a puddle. Her rainboots squelch, and you beam down at her.

Sukuna starts filling in for Jin a lot more after that. Jin gets to relax, Yuji gets to see his uncle, and Sukuna gets to speak to you- it’s a win for everybody really, he thinks, watching as you walk up to the gate and smile at him.

“Hey, Kuna.” You tease, bumping your elbow with his. He wishes you’d just call him Ryomen, but the nickname Yuji gave him stuck, apparently. But it’s still a nickname, at least- and the acknowledgment makes his chest do something sappy and stupid.

It’s sunny today, rays glittering down onto your hair like a personal spotlight; as such, Nobara and Yuji spend a few minutes running around on the playground, pushing each other on the squeaky roundabout and laughing as they go down the slide, while their respective adults chat,

“I see Jin’s been slacking on pick up duty more often.” You observe, looking up at Sukuna- and the height difference is still staggering even after speaking to him so many times. He's broad, you've come to appreciate in sly glances, shirts stretched over his muscled back and strong arms that flex when he tosses Yuji over his shoulder.

Is it really that morally wrong to be jealous of a four-year-old?

“What, do you never slack?” He questions- it lands a bit sharper than originally intended, but you just smile. “Well... I love picking Nobara up. She makes my day.” You begin, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

Sukuna’s hand twitches like it wanted to get there first.

“And besides, it’s not like I have a responsible husband to come and help. It’s just me and her-“ you say wistfully, gazing over at your daughter as she giggles, your face breaking out into a smile, “-but I don’t think I’d have it any other way.”

Sukuna will feel guilty later about how he internally celebrated that little piece of information- no husband, no boyfriend, you absolutely dote on his nephew and you’re pretty? He must be dreaming!

There’s practically a tiny cupid flying around his head, sprinkling puffs of stupid pink sparkles onto his stupider grin- never has Ryomen Sukuna been this desperate to make a woman laugh, and never has he been stopped from doing so by his nephew!

He’s about to say something in response, something smooth that’ll have you giggling- but he doesn’t get to, because an uncomfortably loud smack! suddenly emanates from the playground. It’s followed after a few beats of silence by sobbing, tiny little wails that make your heart clench.

Of course.

“Oh, Yuji-“ you coo worriedly, already hurrying over to scoop him up, “what happened?”

“I f-fell off the- the swing-“ he hyperventilates, cheeks bunched up as streams of tears make their way down his face. Nobara pets his head sympathetically, stood to the side. “I want my uncle-“

Despite his nonchalance, Sukuna’s already there- awkwardly holding onto his crying nephew like he isn’t sure where to exactly put his hands; it works enough for him, though, since Yuji’s hysteria dies down almost immediately into fading hiccups.

“I bruised my knee.” He says miserably, tears already welling in his big eyes, “it stings.”

Sukuna grimaces and picks Yuji up, carefully buckling him into his carseat with all the attention you’d give a nuclear bomb. Beside him, you appear, perfume wafting into his nose as you hold Nobara’s little hand.

“You’re a good uncle.” You say softly, peering up at his scoffing expression. “No, seriously, I mean it.”

“Thanks.” Sukuna mutters, toeing awkwardly at a rock on the ground because he isn’t used to compliments on the way he handles anything, let alone his nephew.

“See you on Monday for the trip?” You say hopefully.

“What?” Sukuna says, head snapping up, “Jin wants me to go on a fucking trip?” The expression on his face contorts into a scowl you'd find intimidating if it weren't for the exact replica of him shoved into his car. Nobara stares up at him, scandalised. “That’s a bad word-“

“Shh, Nobara.” You say, “he’s an adult.” You turn your attention back to Sukuna, “don’t worry, you aren’t actually chaperoning. We just need to drop them off a little earlier in the morning, maybe stick around long enough to wave them goodbye.”

He nods like he’s absorbing the most important information of his life. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

⋆⋅ ❀ ⋅⋆

Monday arrives in a swirl of black coffee and misery for him.

"Yuji. Car." He says gruffly, voice still tinted at the corners by sleep. He turns to his older nephew- "Choso, make him move."

"I don't wanna be mean to him," the brunette huffs, holding onto his little brother's hand like he doesn't want to let go, even as he reluctantly walks out the door. "Why can't you take him?" Sukuna groans, pinching the bridge of his nose as Yuji punches his leg. It doesn't hurt, obviously- Yuji's tiny fists pack as much punch as a ball of cotton- but it's still annoying.

"Because I get the bus, and he is four?" Choso says flatly, "I don't even go to the same school as him."

"You-"

"Bye, Yu!"

"Byeee, Cho!"

He’s already on his third coffee of the day by the time he gets to the car, where he wrestles an overexcited Yuji into his seatbelt, his tiny legs kicking. “The trip’s gonna be so fun, Uncle Kuna, Megumi told me there’s gonna be bunnies and frogs and owls-“

Sukuna groans, forehead resting on the steering wheel- it’s far too early for this. “And, and, and-“ Yuji continues, squealing out his polysynthetic list, “Megumi also said-“

It goes on and on and on like this until Sukuna finally, finally reaches the end of the drive; this time, it doesn’t take him any effort to deal with Yuji, who’s already fumbling at his seatbelt with chubby hands and waving at his tiny friend.

“Hi!” He squeals, running over to him as Sukuna drags behind, rubbing his eyes with one hand as they protest against the sun.

“Hi.” The spiky, dark-haired one says, his freakishly adult demeanour only slightly diminished by the chubbiness of his bright little cheeks as he turns accusatorially to Sukuna. “Why are you helping out.”

“Megumi, be nice.” You chastise, already walking up from behind- right on cue- with Nobara in hand. “And he isn’t, he’s just here to say goodbye to Yuji.”

“Oh.” Megumi says, as though this is a conversation he doesn’t have any scheduled time for, immediately turning his back on Sukuna. When they’re called onto the minibus by their teacher, the trio lines up dutifully next to the steps, tiny bags clenched importantly in even tinier hands.

“Bye, Nobara!” You yell, waving her off as she beams at you through the window, shouting something back you can’t quite hear.

When your fingers brush Sukuna’s on the way up, neither of you say anything.

You’re too focused on smiling at your daughter with pride as she waves back with a small hand and a big smile- but when she turns around to speak to her friends, something crests inside your throat and your heart clenches.

“She’s getting so… so old.” You whisper to yourself, parents already vacating the spot you’re stood in.

“She’s four.” Sukuna says blankly, “she’s not going anywhere anytime soon.”

“I know, I’m being dramatic,” you sniffle into your palm, “but I wish she’d just stay this little forever. Don’t you feel like that with Yuji?”

Sukuna deliberates on this for a moment. Sure, Yuji can be a pain, but he does find some slight fascination in watching him grow; from holding him tightly in a bundle at a few weeks old, his eyes crinkled shut, to playfighting with him on Jin’s living room carpet as he tugs at his scalp and calls his tattoos cool. “Yeah.” He says slowly, “yeah, I guess so.”

A small, perfect tear beads up in the wet outer corner of your eye and your lip wobbles along with your casual facade- you’re ready to let it fall, to allow a single solitary line trail down your face, but it never makes it that far.

A calloused thumb swipes it away without a second thought, the action awfully loud for something that made no noise at all. Sukuna stares at you for a moment, skin lingering against your cheek, then rips his hand away like it burns.

“My, um…” you breathe, eyes glassy, “my house is only down the street, if you wanted to come over.” When Sukuna’s eyebrow raises, you flush. “Just for a drink and a talk. If- if you’re thirsty, that is.”

He smiles down at you, teeth glinting almost predatorily in the sun. “Parched.”

Sukuna’s lips are softer than you imagined, is the initial thought that crosses your mind when he first crashes his mouth to yours in your hallway. The kiss is messy and rushed, like you’re making up for lost time- the ceramic dish on the side jangles quietly as you toss your keys, and he kicks the door shut.

“God-“ you gasp against his greedy mouth, cool orbs of his snake bite piercings cutting into your warm lips. “Slow down-“

“I can’t.” Sukuna groans. His hands are already mapping out each gentle curve, learning the topographical details of your body. “I’ve wanted to do this for weeks.”

Despite the breathlessness in your lungs, you giggle. “Me too.”

Your teeth nip at his lips, soothing the bruises with your tongue before tangling into his mouth in a messy mix of saliva and hushed moans.

Large palms grip at your waist, manoeuvring your body backwards against the wall like he’s been planning this out for as long as he’s known you. Sukuna would like to say this all comes naturally to him- and it does- but never has somebody invaded his senses like this. Like you.

He feels like there’s an audible hum below his prickly skin, made worse when your shirt falls to the ground and his fingers are free to map out the frayed lace on your bra.

“That’s nice.” You breathe, eyes fluttering closed as your scalp meets the wall and your hands rest on Sukuna’s shoulders for support. The entirety of your consciousness is consumed by the feeling of your tits under his grip, so you barely register when the button of your jeans pops open below.

“Yeah?” He whispers into your ear, the cartilage warm under his mouth when he bites down.

“Yeah- fuck!” You gasp suddenly, his fingers finally swiping through the cloying wetness building between your soft thighs. He laughs, but there’s no bite to it this time- because you’re clenching around his fingers, hips jerking in search of the friction of his palm, and he’s harder than he thinks he’s ever been in his life.

Spit slicks shinily across the marks Sukuna’s leaving on your chest, purple and red and shades of bruising pink. His head is tucked fully into the junction between your neck and shoulder now, nipping at warm skin while two of his fingers curl between your parted legs.

“Wait, wait-“ you squeak in panic, nails digging into his back, “fuck, I’m close-“

“That’s the idea.” He laughs shakily, thumb painting wet circles over your sensitive clit. The breathy noise your throat expels into his ear when you cum, legs shaking and clamping around his hand, is the prettiest thing Sukuna’s pierced ears have ever had the pleasure of hearing.

“My...“ your speech falters when you look down, eyes widening at the much larger than anticipated bulge in his jeans, “my bedroom’s upstairs. First door on the right-“

Sukuna doesn’t need to be told twice- barely even once, as he hoists you into the air. Your legs clamp automatically around his waist, looking for the hot slide of friction even despite your recent orgasm, seeking the noises he allows to slip deliciously from his lips when you bite down on his neck.

The duvet makes a comforting backrest for when he lies you down, sheets parting under your body as you prop yourself up onto your elbows to watch him unbuckle his belt one-handedly.

It slides out of place with a gentle clink, dropping to your floor in a loose coil of material before Sukuna goes to unzip his fly.

“Wait,” you say suddenly, curling up onto your knees on the bed. “Let me. Please?”

How could he say no?

“Go ahead.” Sukuna smiles down at you, hands held loosely at his sides to watch the way your breath catches in your throat as you pull the denim down and palm him just once over his underwear. “Shitttt.” His head falls back briefly, pupils dilating behind closed eyelids as he drinks in the feeling of your fingers trembling on his skin.

A faint coral happy trail starts at his navel, decorating the soft plane of his v-line and disappearing below the waistband. You look up at him, eyes glassy and lips parted, your fingers hooked into the elastic, and Sukuna has to resist the image that suddenly flashes across his mind.

He wants to cram your cheek against the bulge and watch the way you’d go nervous, cheeks flushing more as he holds you there against the throbbing outline of his cock through the damp spot in the fabric, but he doesn’t. He lets you have your fun.

Although, it’s significantly more entertaining for him when you finally do get the underwear down his thick thighs and you gasp. “Oh my god-“

“Never seen one before, sweetheart?” He grins, lifting his shirt over his head with muscled biceps and tossing the fabric somewhere in the room.

You both know he isn’t just talking about his dick. You’re staring disbelievingly at the tiny silver ball studded at the tip- pierced, rather. Your mouth waters against your will.

“Shut up.” You breathe, fingers tentatively curling around the base of his dick. But you aren’t even looking at your hand or the silken skin it's wrapped around.

Your gaze is heavy but focused, transfixed entirely on the way glittery beads of pre start to shine over the piercing at his flushed tip; you don’t catch them with your fingers, you just look at the way they spill over and down his length.

“Yeah, like that.” Sukuna groans from above you, watching as you press light kisses to his hip beside your bobbing hand.

Your hand shimmers as it works him, scrutinising the way his face flutters and twitches, the way the breaths he’s expelling become more and more ragged until his hips are jerking up-

And you stop. Completely.

His red eyes snap open immediately, shock splashed across his features. “Why the fuck would you stop, woman?”

You shrug, casually peeling your remaining items of clothing off. “Wanted it inside.”

He narrows his eyes in curiosity. “You’re not-?”

“Birth control.” You say, unclasping your bra fully and letting the lace slip down your shoulders before settling back on the sheets in waiting. “Perimenopausal precaution.”

“Ah.”

He’s about to say something else, snake bites glinting in the sunlight your curtains let in, but the moment you spread your legs open a little further his brain blanks.

His hands meet soft skin, pushing your thighs apart to settle his hips between them. Hair falls into his eyes in spiky tufts of pink, and you instinctually raise a hand to brush them back.

“You’re so fucking wet.” Is the first thing to leave his mouth as he lines himself up, the words stuttered through a thick groan as his tip brushes your clit. You sigh into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his back, and he pushes in.

The stretch is perfect, the feeling of being so full after so long almost too much for you to take; you can feel the piercing, feel the way it rolls coolly inside you like something designed solely by him, for you.

“You- you can move.” You keen against his throat. “Now, please.”

“Bossy.” Sukuna says, voice coming loose at the edges already as he buries his face into your shoulder.

The movements he affords you are languid at first, testing to see what angles make you moan the loudest and which rhythm makes you squeeze tightest around him. It turns out you hardly have a preference as long as he's moving; just the knowledge of him being seated inside you, stretching you out, is enough.

Your nails run smooth patterns over his broad back, etching red lines across the inky tattoos while you lose yourself in it. Every drag is perfect, pace increasing steadily until the room is full with quiet, slick noises that have a flush creeping up your chest.

Just when you think he’s as deep as he could possibly be, when there’s nothing left for him to give you- a calloused hand moves from your hip to your thigh, lifting it upwards and pushing the limb against your torso.

“Fuck!” You gasp, scrabbling for purchase on his arms as he grins above you. The new angle lets him hit even more spots, stars bursting behind your eyelids.

“You like that?” Sukuna asks rhetorically. He knows you can’t answer, he knows your brain is melted into slush every time he rocks forwards, he knows- but it’s fun to watch you struggle.

“I- mhm-“ you whine, back arching into a curve below him. “Kuna-“

The nickname does something unexpected to him, the sugared syllables dripping like messy honey from your tongue into his mouth when he kisses you again. “Fuck, say that again.”

“Kuna-“ you beg, digging into his skin, “please-“

“Yeah,” he pants into your mouth, “yeah, s’okay.”

The softness of your legs wrap around his waist tighter, heels digging into his back as he releases the hold on your thigh to drop his full weight onto you.

The pressure is gorgeous; the feeling of his abdomen against your soft torso makes you squirm, fluttering tightly around his cock as the piercing keeps rubbing across your soft insides. It maps you out, cool metal gently roving over the smoothest spots your pussy has to offer.

The polish on his nails is chipped, black giving way to reveal the curves of keratin carving pretty crescents into your sticky body- he looks down at them in pride, knowing that only his hands could mark you up so perfectly. But his red irises never stay in one place for long; he can get impatient.

They drift from the mess spilling onto your thighs, the sight of him actively pushing inside almost an assault on his self-control. Then, he stares greedily at your chest, at the soft bounce of your tits when he releases his chest far back enough to appreciate the view.

But he saves the best for last; your face. Lips dropping open into a picture-perfect circle, mouth tightening then becoming lax as moans slip freely into the heated space between you, eyes shiny and bright. God, you're so pretty, Sukuna thinks.

“M’gonna cum.” You breathe tightly, stomach clenching when two of his fingers slide between your bodies to rub messy circles over your swollen clit.

“Yeah, me too.” Sukuna admits roughly, voice dropping to vibrate against the cartilage of your throat.

The orgasm winds tight, humming and heavy, twisting beneath your sweaty skin and shattering. Your lips part around a silent moan, babbling something unintelligible- maybe it was his name, maybe it was a plea; whatever it is, it pushes Sukuna over the edge with you.

A sharp little gasp sounds from him as he stills, hips stuttering inside you as thick pearlescent strings soak your sheets, overflowing from your cunt and onto the duvet.

He catches his breath before rolling off you, slumping in a mess of sweaty muscle and spit-slicked skin beside you in the mess of your bed. “Fuck.”

“Mmm.” You agree breathlessly, chest still heaving with exertion, limbs boneless.

Sukuna stands first, unashamedly naked, sun painting a halo behind him as you adjust onto your side and speak with hoarse vocals. “Going somewhere?”

“Well-“ he begins, a blush creeping onto his face that has nothing to do with the post-sex afterglow, “I was gonna get you a drink, or somethin’, but I realised I don’t know where your kitchen is.”

The absurdity of the situation hits you then; your daughters friend’s uncle is stood totally naked in your bedroom, his cum is leaking onto your sheets, and he doesn’t even know where your sink is.

You laugh, collapsing onto your front and hysterically giggling as he stands there confusedly. “Something funny?”

“No, no-“ you wheeze, wiping tears from your eyes, “not at all, actually.”

It isn’t raining when you arrive at the school- in fact, it’s even more sunny than it was earlier, big strips of light illuminating the flowers around your feet as you wait. You aren’t alone, as usual- Sukuna stands beside you, waiting too; but this time, your hands aren’t empty.

Instead of waiting outstretched for Nobara’s backpack, your hand rests cosily in his; fingers tangled together like they’ve been used to it for years, Sukuna’s thumb brushing comfortingly over your knuckles.

“They’re staring.” You whisper, anxiously eyeing up the gaggle of bored parents around you, some curiously peering at your hands.

“Ignore it.” Sukuna replies, glaring at a woman who looks too long. Her head snaps around immediately, and he grins to himself.

Your hand never leaves his, even when your breaths get nervous and anticipatory as you wait for Nobara to see you. Her shoes are soft when they land on the gravel below, her face plastered with a huge smile.

“Mom!” She yells, walking over to you, “it was so fun, Megumi and Yuji were right, but I didn’t like the frogs- why are you holding hands?” She squints at your fingers braided with Sukuna’s at her eye level.

“Well-“

“Uncle Kuna!” Yuji squeals, throwing his arms around Sukuna’s leg in the strongest hug he can muster, “there was bunny rabbits- are you holding hands?”

Two pairs of tiny eyes- three if you count Megumi Fushiguro, who’s been watching the whole time as he waits for his sister with a bored expression on his pink cheeks- travel from you, to Sukuna, to your entwined hands, like they’re slowly figuring something out.

Aside from Megumi, who likes to act like he's figured everything out already.

Yuji gasps loudly enough to turn heads. “Does this mean you’re my auntie? Does this mean he’ll finally stop talking about you to my dad? Does this mean me and Nobara are cousins?”

Nobara stares at you, and you nervously stare back. “Okay. But he-“ she says, pointing a finger at Sukuna, “is still annoying.”

You breathe a sigh of relief at her approval- to you, it means more than anything. “Yeah, he is.” Sukuna’s mouth twitches at the corner. “Do you wanna go home now?”

She nods, grabbing onto your spare hand. As Yuji tugs Sukuna towards the car, yelling something nonsensical about his ‘new favourite auntie’, his fingers slip from yours regretfully.

Two matching heads of pink hair walk away from you, Sukuna struggling as usual to clip Yuji into the car. You giggle.

“Tell me about the trip.” You ask Nobara, clasping your hands together, “what about the bunnies?”

“They were with their mom,” she says thoughtfully, face breaking into a toothy smile, “it looked like us in my baby pictures.”

Your heart tugs. You want to say something, like ‘I love you’ or ‘you’re still a baby to me’, but words die in your throat. You settle for a hug, crouching down to wrap your arms around her as she giggles and squirms in your grip.

From behind her, as he reverses onto the road and Yuji giggles from the backseat, Sukuna waves one-handedly from the steering wheel.

ೃ࿔*:･

masterlist

a/n: thank you soooo much for reading! have a lovely week + comments appreciated! <33

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