you almost want to get on your knees and beg that a day out with your family would go normally.
that you wouldn’t be stuck in your current predicament.
with furrowed brows you look to the left, at your husband.
gosh..
he’s in a worser state than you.
you’ve never seen sukuna like this, his serious expression a stark contrast against the lively joy of the amusement park. with his clenched jaw and eyes darting every which way.
in search.
sukuna’s eyes narrow when you touch him on the shoulder.
“i’m sure he’s somewhere here..” you’re not sure whether you’re reassuring yourself or him, “we’ll find him”
your son, 6 year old baby!yuji is lost.
you rack through your memories, replaying every single moment from you entering to park to the last time you saw him.
the food stalls.
you grip sukuna’s arm harsher than needed, albeit it does not hurt him, and march towards the stalls.
sukuna starts asking the vendors for a kid with a similar hair color to him. they all shake their heads mumbling excuses.
“nonsense” sukuna mutters to himself, “everyone here is a fool”
“not more than us” you sigh gripping your chest in an attempt to slow down the incoming panic coursing through your veins.
“listen” sukuna suggests, “we should split up”
“bad idea, better we stick together unless we start going in circles” you breathe hard, gasping out the last few words, worst case scenarios flashing through your mind.
sukuna grabs you by both your arms, you shake your head in protest and he grips you harder, not bruising just firm.
“listen to me” he speaks and you nod, “we’ll find him okay? and damn the heavens if i leave this place without my son”
you lick your lips, “yeah let’s..um call me, text, whatever just..”
the world seems to move in a blur.
you’d been so happy, all of you, yuji insisted on coming here and you obliged ofcourse, you’d do anything for your son. yuji’s laughter on the rides, sukuna carrying yuji on his shoulders, yuji’s cotton candy stuffed cheeks.
you inhale shakily.
“i will,” sukuna calls out starting to walk away.
you turn around in haste, praying, praying, praying.
please let my baby be safe.
until—
“may we have your attention, please.”
your pulse jumps in your throat.
“the parent or guardian of a young boy waiting with our lost and found team is requested to proceed to the main entrance.”
you turn around searching for sukuna to find his eyes already on you.
“again, the parent or guardian of a young boy waiting with our lost and found team, please make your way to the main entrance. thank you.”
before your mind could catch up, you’re running. with sukuna only a step behind you, you both make for the main entrance.
closing up to it you spot him instantly, and you stop in your tracks.
sukuna walks ahead, speaking to the security guard who just laughs while saying something, but you’re too busy to notice. your eyes are frantic you scan your son head to toe.
he’s fine, he’s okay.
the rope of panic that had tightened around your chest loosens. you watch from a distance as yuji bounces on his feet, asking sukuna to pick him up while your husband rubs his neck, thanking the security guard for keeping your son safe.
and then yuji’s eyes flick over to yours.
“mama!!” he comes running.
you hadn’t realized how much that sound had meant to you, not until you’d been faced with the possibility of losing it.
you bend down scooping baby!yuji up into your arms and peppering his face with kisses, while he squeals and giggles.
opening up his hand, yuji proudly shows you a fidget spinner as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t been lost “gun man gave me a gift!”
children were so clueless.
and you were too elated to speak, this just the act of holding your son, having him in your arms again meant everything.
“did you say thankyou, to the security guard?”
“duh” he droned, already looking around for some mischief to get up to.
you felt sukuna’s arms close around the both of you pulling you into a hug. he kissed the side of your head for a moment too long and you understood.
this had been just as frightening for sukuna.
though he’d never admit it.
but you knew, just from the way he slightly rubbed your shoulder and listened to yuji’s rambles attentively.
“he’s smart” his voice came out rough,
you leaned your head back against his chest, raising a brow in question.
“found the security guard himself, told him that he couldn’t find his mama and papa” he chuckled slightly, “brat didn’t even cry one bit”
you buried your nose in yuji’s hair and sighed contentedly.
“and here i was losing my mind” you murmured.
sukuna shrugged, “…and here we were”
yuji crawled out of your grip onto sukuna’s shoulders, cheerfully pointing around,
“can we go on that next?”
firefly; i’ve had this idea for so long, i just figured out how to execute it ❀ུ͏
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Sukuna who slips into dom-drop midway through a long scene. 18+ nsfw mdni.
──── ୨୧ ────
You notice it when you finally manage to tear your eyes open, blinking away the fuzzy haze of pleasure to instead focus on the blaze of pink moving above you. You force your head upright after what felt like hours spent doing nothing but panting and writhing into the pillows to find that he’s looking at you. That in itself isn’t unusual, but there’s a sheen there in that rich brown that hadn’t been present when you’d first let your eyes drop closed. His gaze is glassy, lacquered - gazing vacantly at you like he’s not quite there anymore.
“Kuna,” you call with only a slight wobble, voice a little hoarse from the way you’d been crying out for him, wailing, really.
When only a vague glimmer of recognition flickers in his eyes, you shift. Slipping your hands up over his arms, across his back where his muscles are twitching as he continues working you open like it’s his life mission to bury himself inside. Thrusts turned slow and sloppy between your thighs, now nothing but a slippery mess of slick and sweat.
“You still with me?” You murmur, chin tucked to his shoulder and breath panting hotly over his ear.
He makes a rumbled sound of vague acknowledgement, and you frown. Your hands lift until one is resting either side of his face, cupping his cheeks gently - his skin pink and warm now beneath your touch. You lift your head and press your foreheads together, wet where both of your bangs are glued to your skin in slick curls.
“You feel me, don’t you baby?” You pant into the shared air, hot with your mingling breath, “Feel how -hn!- how wet I am for you?”
His lips part, and a soft uncharacteristically broken sound slips free. You don’t relent though, still cooing soothing slips of praise beneath your breath as you begin to rock your hips against his weakening rhythm.
“No one takes care of me like you do, ‘kuna,” you promise, hooking a trembling ankle over the back of his thigh. “So good to me… Always treat me so good, fuck me so good… I love it, ‘kuna… love you…”
That does it. With a final stuttered groan he’s cumming. Thick throbbing spurts you can feel all the way in your belly, nudging his hips in a mean grind and jerking in place above you like it’s painful.
You talk him through it, murmuring sweet nothings into the crown of his head and running your fingers up through the knots in his pink spikes until he finally stills. He doesn’t pull out, just collapses against you still stuffed to the hilt. Let’s his spend begin to dribble out around the stretch while his breathing slows and he listens to the steady thrum of your heart tapping against his ear, like he’s reminding himself you’re real, that you’re alive, that you’re his.
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tonight i’m thinking about sukuna and his weird love for being able to eye all your hair accessories.
it is absolutely no secret that even to what we may consider tall, he will always be taller. a hulking curse of a man…
and maybe at first he likes to tease you, how fragile, small, so awfully human you are. that he can tug you into his space with a finger lodged in a belt loop. that you weirdly slot ever so perfectly against him.
but slowly as time goes on, and the both of you wander through the mundane details of life. each time he looks down at you, he catches a glimpse of one of the many hair accessories you own.
he’d never met anyone who liked to adorn their hair as much as you did, truly it was a spectacle, bumbling into your room only to find a plethora of accessories scattered across the floor.
“what a mess” he’d mutter, no malice in his voice as he takes a seat beside you.
“i can’t decide what matches this outfit best” you would tell him, rummaging through another full box.
and he would sign, unsure as to why such a trivial matter had taken up so much of your time.
“no one but me can see the top of your head anyways”
and you’d pause at that, blinking. and you suppose he was right.
“so it’s no matter what you wear because i am the only one who can truly appreciate it”
you’d lean into his side, “then it is even more important that i choose the prettiest. i like to look lovely for you”
he’d hum, “though you always look lovely”
and after that he would likely notice it more. floral patterns on headbands, or glittery hair pins, clips, flowers.
and though he complains each morning as sit and sort through so many decorations for your hair, you’d never comment on how something new shows up each week, sat wrapped on top of a new chest designated for all the new accessories sukuna liked to buy you.
