"Pretty," is the low grunt that eases you out of your slumber. Four hands—too large and far too many to be of any belonging to a normal human’s—paw at your night silks. "Get up."

Ever since the confirmation of your pregnancy, the bedroom you often shared with the King of Curses had become your sanctuary; You'd spend majority of the day there sleeping away to wait out Sukuna's duties.

Love.. was, unsurprisingly, a foreign concept to Sukuna. In spite of his unfamiliarity with what was considered 'normal' affection, he caresses you with the very same clawed fingers that he tears through flesh with. Sukuna is gentle with you, surprisingly—more man than curse.

Because to him, to love and to abstain were one and the same.