ππ‘π πππ ππππ ππ« ~ π©ππ‘π π¨πππ©, πππ© ππͺππ ππ

Sukuna nearly laughs.
Because for onceβfor onceβyouβre talking.
Not your usual clipped, quiet replies. Not your tight-lipped silence, your meek little nods, your stiff posture that always screams leave me alone.
No.
Youβre ranting.
About him.
And itβs adorable.
“Youβre so fucking insufferable,” you snap, pacing his bedroom, arms crossed like a pissed-off housewife. “You treat everything like a joke. You never take anything seriously. You only ever bully me.”
Sukuna leans back against the headboard, a slow grin spreading across his face.
“You done?”
Your glare could cut through steel. “No.”
He chuckles. “Go on, then. This is cute.”
That only pisses you off more. “Cuteβ? I hate you!”
The second itβs out, you freeze.
Too late.
His smirk widens. “Say it again.”
You clamp your mouth shut.
“Aw, what happened?” He tilts his head. “You were real chatty a second ago.”
You back upβtoo late again.
Heβs on you in an instant, shoving you against the wall, pressing in close.
“Hate me, huh?” His voice is mockingly soft, his breath hot against your skin. His hands are rough, yanking at your clothes, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. “Hate me so much, youβre soaking through your panties?”
Your thighs clench together, but he forces them apart.
“Donβt run your mouth if you canβt back it up, princess.”
Heβs already got you bent over the bed before you can say another word.
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