sukuna supporting your trinket obsession ♡
you lay on the couch, rested on sukuna’s chest as he kneads the underside of your ass. your head lays flat on his pecs while your hands continue scrolling on your phone as usual.
“ryo, have you seen these cute dolls? theyre called sonny angels and theyre absolutely adorable! i wanna get some but theyre kinda way past my budget.” you say, pouting as you show him photos on your phone.
“whats so good about them? theyre just naked babies with stupid shit on their heads.” he shot back, not even bothering to take a second glance at the photo.
“theyre not just babies with stupid shit on them! theyre like cute babies that you can take care of, they could be like our children! imagine if we had fifty of them and we like washed them and fed them and stuff? that would be amazing!” you retort back, gesturing with your hands to convey the silly idea you’d conjured up.
“how much do they cost?” he asks, surprisingly curious. “around fifteen dollars or so for just one blindbox after taxes and shipping. crazy expensive am i right?” you continue, “i literally could never be able to afford them since i haven’t gotten a job yet. speaking of that, ive always wondered what do you do for work that gets you all this money. i mean i never see you work but you always have thousands of dollars.” you blabber on and on while sukuna clicks on his phone with the concentration of a devoted boyfriend.
you look over to see sukuna strangely engrossed in his phone. “whatya doing?” you ask as you peek over to take a look at his phone screen. before hes able to turn the screen away from your view, you catch a glimpse of the official sonny angel website. most surprising of all, in his cart you see 5 separate orders of the new 12 piece cherry blossom series. you immediately grab the phone from him, assuming you didn’t see it right. but upon further inspection, your suspicions were clarified.
“the scary frat leader ryomen sukuna is a secret sap for his girlfriend.” you let the words hang in the air for a few seconds. “is that what this is telling me?” you ask him with an oddly condescending tone you wouldn’t imagine ever using on him.
“fuck off.” he says, not bothering to deny anything.
