Babysitting emergency ~ R.S.
Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader
Summary: Sukuna is in charge of babysitting his little nephew for an evening, should be easy enough right? Turns out it isn’t so he finds himself knocking at his annoying neighbour’s door.
CW (content warning): cuteness overload, modern AU (no curses), ooc Sukuna (he’s kinda nice), Sukuna is an architect for literally mo reason, some light cursing.
AN: This is way too long because I got too into it hahahah but I think really like how this turned out 🤍 English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry if there’re any mistakes. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :)
Requests are open so feel free to send yours! (you can check the list of character I write for on my pinned post)
Masterlist
There were very few things that could rattle Sukuna Ryomen. Earthquakes, client meltdowns, the occasional burst pipe on-site, those were all things he could handle effortlessly. But standing in his living room in a faded black hoodie, sweatpants, and socks that hadn’t matched since 9 a.m., he was definitely rattled.
The source of his current crisis was none other than a pink-haired five-year-old named Yuji, his nephew.
The kid was adorable. When he was asleep. Awake? He was a human pinball, a juice-powered chaos gremlin with endless questions and zero fear.
“Uncle Suku, can I feed the fish again?” Yuji called, already climbing onto the kitchen counter.
“We don’t have a fish!” Sukuna snapped, catching a juice box midair. “That’s my garlic press!”
Yuji grinned, completely unbothered, as he jumped down and ran in circles around the coffee table, dragging what used to be a potted plant behind him like a leash.
It was only noon.
Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose. His sister had begged him, really begged him, to babysit while she and her husband attended a last-minute emergency at her office. He’d said yes because he was a responsible adult with a flexible work-from-home schedule and because, well, he wasn’t heartless.
But this? This was slowly turning into a war of attrition.
He tried distracting Yuji with cartoons. Didn’t work. Tried coloring. Yuji drew on the wall. Tried snacks. The living room now smelled like stale applesauce and childhood regrets.
Sukuna’s eye twitched as a toy firetruck zipped past him and hit the front door.
He needed backup. But not just any backup. His neighbor. He stared at the wall separating his apartment from hers.
You’d lived next door for about six months. Too cheerful. Too nosy. Always humming in the hallways and leaving little potted plants outside your door like this was some rom-com set instead of a downtown apartment building.
And you loved to get on his nerves.
Whenever he bumped into you in the hallway, it was like sparring with a cartoon character. You smiled too much. Talked too much. You once called his very expensive minimalist furniture “cold serial killer chic” and he still hadn’t forgiven you.
But Yuji liked you. A lot. And right now? Sukuna was desperate.
With a long-suffering sigh, he knocked on your door. It opened a few seconds later, revealing you in leggings, a hoodie, and fuzzy socks. You were holding a mug that said BITE ME in cheerful bubble letters.
Your eyes widened. “Well, well. If it isn’t Mr. Brooding himself. Need to borrow a cup of angst?”
“Help me.” Sukuna said flatly.
You blinked. “Sorry, come again?”
He cleared his throat. “I said… Help. Me.” He said it like the mere act of those words leaving his lips physically hurt him. It probably did in fact.
You leaned in slightly, eyes twinkling. “Did you swallow a thumbtack, or did you actually just ask me for help?”
“Yuji.” He said simply, gesturing behind him. A loud crash followed.
Your smile widened. “Say no more.”
——————————————————————————
Fifteen minutes later, you were in his apartment, crouched on the carpet, helping Yuji build a pillow fort. The kid had immediately latched onto you like a magnet, and you? You looked completely at ease.
Sukuna watched, leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed.
“Okay, Yuji, your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to guard this pillow castle from the evil broccoli overlords.”
“Broccoli is gross!” Yuji shouted.
“Exactly!” You said solemnly. “They must be stopped.”
Yuji saluted you. “Yes, General!”
Sukuna felt like he’d stepped into an alternate universe. One were his heart did weird things when he saw you laughing at something his little nephew did. He wasn’t handling it well.
“How do you do that?” He asked finally.
You didn’t even look up. “Do what?”
“That. Handle him like you’re some sort of… tiny human whisperer.”
You shrugged. “It’s not that hard. He just wants to play. And not be barked at like he’s a military recruit.”
Sukuna scowled. “I wasn’t… Okay, maybe a little. But in my defense, he colored on my tax documents.”
You laughed. “Honestly? That’s kind of iconic.”
He groaned. “Of course you’d say that.”
Yuji popped up from behind the couch. “Uncle Suku, can she stay forever?”
He sputtered. “No.”
“Yes.” you said at the same time.
Yuji laughed, then returned to his fort.
Sukuna rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks for stepping in.”
You waved him off. “I love this stuff. Chaos is my natural habitat.”
“I can tell.” He muttered, eyeing the glitter stuck to your sleeve.
You grinned. “Admit it. You’re relieved I came over.”
He looked away. “I… You’re not entirely useless, I guess.”
“A glowing review.” You said. “Should I write that on my resume?”
You ended up staying all afternoon. Sukuna tried to pretend he was annoyed by it, but the truth was… the apartment felt lighter with you in it. Your laughter made Yuji light up. Your presence calmed the room. You even helped him clean up after Yuji crashed for a nap on the couch, completely worn out from fort-building and broccoli slaying.
“You want tea?” He asked, half-grumbling.
You raised an eyebrow. “Are you offering because you’re being polite, or because you’ve realized I’m delightful?”
He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “I’m offering because you stopped him from destroying my apartment and my will to live. Tea is the least I can do.”
“Romantic.” You said dryly. “But sure.”
He handed you a mug and sat across from you at the table, eyes half-lidded, arms folded.
The silence was surprisingly… comfortable.
“I still don’t get why you hate me.” You said after a moment.
“I don’t hate you.”
“You kind of do.” You smirked.
He exhaled. “You’re loud.”
“And?”
“Too cheerful.”
“And?”
“You rearranged the mailboxes that one time.”
You laughed. “Because they were in the wrong order. You’re such a Virgo.”
“I’m a Scorpio.”
“That tracks too.”
He gave you a look, but the edge in his eyes was softened by something else. Amusement?
“Okay.” You said, sipping your tea. “Let’s lay it out. You’re grumpy and tense. I’m sunshine and rainbows. Opposites attract.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
“Maybe,” You said with a shrug. “Is it working?”
Sukuna opened his mouth, then shut it. For the first time in years Ryomen Sukuna had been rendered speechless. The silence stretched for a bit.
Then he stood and walked to the sink, muttering, “You’re insufferable.”
You smiled behind your mug. Because you knew that in Sukuna language that wasn’t a no.
——————————————————————————
You came over again the next weekend.
This time, Sukuna asked. Not begged. Not pleaded. Just a text that read:
You busy? Yuji’s back. Bring sugar.
You arrived ten minutes later with cupcakes and a grin.
Over the next few weeks, it became a pattern. Sukuna watched Yuji during the day. You popped over to help when you could. The three of you became an oddly functional little trio.
You learned that Sukuna was surprisingly good at drawing. That he secretly loved cooking shows. That he kept extra fuzzy blankets but pretended they were for guests.
He learned that you used sarcasm as a shield. That your last relationship ended because someone told you to “stop being so much.” That you secretly worried you were too loud for quiet people like him.
He told you, one night while Yuji was snoring in the other room “You’re not too much. People just suck.”
You smiled so hard it hurt.
He noticed. He was utterly screwed.
——————————————————————————
The day it all changed, Yuji had just left with his mom, and the apartment was quiet again. You were helping Sukuna pack away the last of the kid’s toys.
You held up a plastic lightsaber. “I’m keeping this.”
“You literally didn’t buy it.”
“I earned it with emotional labor.”
Sukuna smirked. “You’re ridiculous.”
You put the lightsaber down and looked at him.
He was closer than you thought. Still in his black hoodie, hair a little messy, he had red finger paint smudged on his left cheek and his eyes were dark and unreadable.
“I like you, you know?” You said softly.
He didn’t respond right away. Then he stepped forward. His hand found your waist.
And just like that he kissed you.
It was warm and slow and soft in a way that made your heart ache. No snark. No banter. Just the press of his lips on yours and the quiet hum of understanding between two people who had somehow, impossibly, become each other’s favorite chaos. When he pulled back, you blinked in shock, your heart almost beating out of your chest.
“Wow.” You whispered. “That was…”
“I should’ve done that weeks ago.” He said.
You smiled. “You absolutely should’ve.”
He hesitated, only for a moment, just enough to make you squirm a bit. “Wanna go out sometime? Like, a real date. No Legos involved.”
You looped your arms around his neck. “Only if you promise to let me win at Mario Kart.”
“Not a chance.”
“Then I’m in.” You beamed at him.
——————————————————————————
The first date was his idea. Which, honestly? Surprised both of you.
It started with a knock on your door, three days after the kiss. You opened it expecting mail or a neighbor with a Wi-Fi emergency. Instead, there was Sukuna, in a navy-blue jacket, holding a small paper bag and looking like he’d spent twenty minutes pacing before mustering the courage to ring your bell.
He cleared his throat. “Put on shoes. I’m taking you somewhere.”
You blinked. “Wow. So romantic. You didn’t even offer me a rose or tell me to pack a bag for a mysterious getaway.”
“I brought food.” He held up the bag like it was a peace treaty.
“What is it?”
“Gyoza from that place you like. The one with the sarcastic waiter.”
You smiled, grabbing your coat. “You’re lucky I’m easy.”
He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “That’s debatable”, but his ears were pink.
——————————————————————————
The date started at a park. Sukuna led you to a quiet, tree-lined path, where you sat on a bench under the soft glow of streetlamps. The weather was cool, the sky cloudy, and for some reason, it felt oddly cinematic.
“You brought me to a park?” You teased. “What are we, eighty?”
“I considered a rooftop, but someone’s afraid of pigeons.”
“I was attacked once.” You said firmly. “They’re sky rats.”
Sukuna rolled his eyes and handed you the gyoza bag. “Eat before you get even more dramatic.”
You bit into a dumpling, humming contentedly. “You know, I never expected you to be the ‘pack a picnic and stroll through the park’ kind of guy.”
“I’m not. But you like this kind of stuff.”
You paused mid-chew. He kept looking straight ahead, refusing to meet your eyes.
“You remembered I like this?”
He shrugged. “You talk a lot. Stuff sticks.”
Your chest tightened with that stupid, fluttery ache that happened every time he did something unexpectedly sweet.
And of course, being you, you couldn’t help but push a little. “So… is this your idea of boyfriend material?”
He gave you a dry look. “Don’t push it.”
“I dunno…” You teased, bumping his shoulder with yours playfully. “I might have to make you a Pinterest board.”
“If you do, I’ll set your phone on fire.”
You giggled, and for the first time that evening, he smiled. A real one. Small, lopsided, and rare as hell.
You didn't kiss that night. You both kind of wanted to, but something about it felt too… gentle. Like rushing would break it.
So instead, you walked home with him in silence, hands brushing occasionally. When you reached your door, he said, “Same time next week?”
You grinned. “Only if you bring dessert.”
——————————————————————————
By the third date, he was holding your hand.
By the fourth, he’d let you see his apartment’s second bedroom, the one filled with sketchbooks and drafting tables and old, half-finished models of buildings.
He told you, without looking at you. “I used to want to design theaters.”
You sat beside him on the floor, tracing your fingers over the paper. “Why didn’t you?”
He shrugged. “Money. Clients want modern. Steel and glass. Emotionless. Easy to clean.”
You whispered, “But you wanted magic.”
He looked at you then, really looked at you, and said quietly. “Still do.”
That was the night he kissed you again. Not a maybe-kiss, not a I’ve-wanted-to-do-this-for-weeks kiss.
It was a you matter to me kiss.
And that’s when it started.
——————————————————————————
The relationship, if you could even call it that at first, was chaotic.
You were still neighbors. Still bickered like you were trying to win a verbal UFC match. But now he’d kiss you when you were mid-rant. Now you’d steal his hoodies like it was your God-given right. Now you sat on his kitchen counter and kicked your feet while he cooked, and he let you eat the last dumpling without pretending to fight you for it.
Yuji figured it out before either of you said anything.
One Saturday morning, while you were helping him build a pillow fort version 3.0, he looked up and said, “Are you Uncle Suku’s girlfriend now?”
You blinked. “Uh…”
Sukuna, from the other side of the room, said “Yuji.” In almost a warning tone.
“What?” The kid said, frowning. “She’s here all the time. And you kiss. That’s what girlfriends do.”
You covered your face with a pillow.
Sukuna walked over, ruffled Yuji’s hair, and said, “You’re too observant for your own good.”
Yuji beamed. “Does that mean I can call her Auntie?”
“No- ” You and Sukuna said at the same time.
Yuji pouted. “Lame.”
——————————————————————————
It was bumpy, of course. Sukuna didn’t exactly slide into domesticity. The first time you left your hairbrush in his bathroom, he stared at it like it was a live grenade.
“You’re moving in?”
You blinked. “It’s a brush, not a lease agreement.”
“I’m just saying, that’s how it starts. First the brush. Then you’re here every night. Then I wake up and there’s throw pillows on my bed.”
“God forbid you experience lumbar support.”
Eventually, though, he got used to it. You being there. Your humming in the morning. Your socks in his drawer. The way you curled up on his couch and tucked your feet under his thigh like you belonged there.
One night, after too much wine and too many old horror movies, you looked at him,flushed and sleepy, and said, “I think I’m in love with you.”
He froze.
You panicked. “I mean, not like in love in love. Not in a weird way. Just, like, casual love. Like a chill-”
He kissed you. Long. Firm. No hesitation.
When he pulled back, he said “I love you too. Ever since you knocked on my door with a batch of welcome cupcakes.”
You blinked. “You don’t say anything for ten minutes and then just- ?!”
“I was trying not to freak out, okay?” He snapped. “You caught me off guard.”
You snorted. “You? Mr. Stoic? Freaked out?”
He grumbled. “Shut up.”
But you didn’t.
You laughed, leaned into his chest, and said once again “I love you.”
And this time, he whispered it back immediately.
——————————————————————————
Dating Sukuna was like learning a new language.
He didn’t always say the right things. Sometimes he snapped when he meant to ask. Sometimes he shut down when he should’ve opened up. But he showed love in small, quiet gestures.
A thermos of your favorite tea on his counter when you were sick. An extra key on your keyring that you definitely hadn’t put there. A grumble of “Don’t be late” when you had a big meeting.
And you? You loved out loud. Sticky notes on his mirror. Spontaneous takeout at midnight. Kisses on the back of his neck while he worked on new sketches.
You argued, of course. Loudly. Often. Once about the right way to fold towels. Another time about whether Die Hard was a Christmas movie, which, by the way, you won. Once about the color of a shower curtain.
But the make-ups were always worth it.
Sometimes that meant soft apologies whispered under the covers. Sometimes it meant passionate, desperate kisses against the kitchen counter.
Sometimes it meant cuddling on the couch with Yuji between you, asleep, while the TV played forgotten cartoons in the background.
——————————————————————————
One night, months into the chaos, you were curled up on Sukuna’s bed, flipping through one of his sketchbooks. He was brushing his teeth, hair damp from the shower, wearing the gray sweatpants that absolutely should’ve been illegal.
You held up a sketch of a tiny theater with stained glass windows and velvet curtains.
“I love this one.”
He spat into the sink. “Old. From college.”
“Why didn’t you build it?”
He shrugged. “Too sentimental. No one wants that crap.”
You hesitated. “I do.”
He glanced at you in the mirror.
You closed the book. “I want all your sentimental crap. All of it. The weird sketches. The hoodie you never wear but won’t throw away. The grumpy texts. The yelling. The quiet. I want all of it.”
He turned. You waited.
Then, softly, he said, “You already have it.”
You smiled. “Even the hoodie?”
“Especially the hoodie.”
You laughed, and he climbed into bed beside you, pulling you into his chest.
——————————————————————————
Six months after the first kiss, you officially moved in. Not all at once, it started with your toiletries, then your sweaters, then somehow your cat, who terrorised Sukuna for the first week.
The building super made a joke about it one day in the hallway.“You two finally caved, huh?”
Sukuna just smirked, one hand on your lower back.
“Better than her breaking into my apartment every other night.”
You elbowed him. “I never broke in.”
“You climbed through the fire escape.”
“Once!”
“You brought tacos.” He conceded. “So I let it slide.”
——————————————————————————
One morning, while brushing your teeth beside him, you looked at him in the mirror and said, “You know I love you, right?”
He met your eyes. “I know.”
“And you… love me too?”
He leaned down, kissed your toothpaste-foamed cheek, and said “Unfortunately.”
You grinned.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was yours.
A slow-burn romance with yelling and laughter and pizza stains. A relationship built on bickering and babysitting and the most unhinged five-year-old matchmaker alive.
And somehow, against all odds? It worked.
——————————————————————————
You two had decided to keep your relationship to yourselves for a while, not that you were ashamed of it because you weren’t in the slightest. You just wanted to enjoy the peace and quiet of living in your own little bubble, but given that there was a five-years-old that was the embodiment of ADHD that knew… the secret was meant to come out rather sooner than later.
It happened at a family barbecue. A simple, innocent Sunday afternoon.
Sukuna’s sister had invited him, meaning, both of you to her house just outside the city because she wanted to thank you for “Not allowing her brother to throw Yuki out of the window”. It was a yearly tradition: kids running around, way too much food, and at least one uncle getting into an argument about lawn maintenance.
You didn’t expect much. Just decent grilled corn, a slightly-overcooked burger, and maybe a chance to mess with Sukuna’s head by being overly charming to his extended family.
You didn’t expect Yuji to completely detonate your secret relationship like a tiny pink-haired grenade.
——————————————————————————
“I told you.” Sukuna muttered as you got out of the car. “My family is nosy.”
You slipped on your sunglasses. “And I told you: I’m adorable. They’ll love me.”
He gave you a deadpan look. “You stole my last piece of cheesecake last night.”
“And yet you still let me wear your hoodie this morning. That’s love, baby.”
He made a noise that could’ve been a scoff or a suppressed laugh. You counted it as a win either way.
You walked into the backyard hand-in-hand, a detail you both completely forgot until it was too late. Music was playing, kids were screaming, and the smell of charcoal filled the air.
Sukuna’s sister came over first, grinning. “There he is! The brooding menace himself.” She said as she hugged the brooding tattooed man next to you. “And his emotional support ray of sunshine.” She beamed at you, as she embraced you.
She laughed as hugged you both. “It’s about time you brought her around again. Yuji hasn’t shut up about her.”
“Of course not.” You said. “I’m his favorite adult.”
“Excuse me?” Sukuna said.
“I don’t make him eat vegetables.”
“You bribed him with marshmallows to get him to brush his teeth.”
“And it worked, didn’t it?”
Sukuna muttered something about bad influences and childhood cavities, but his hand didn’t leave your lower back the whole time.
You tried to play it cool. Smile. Be casual. Only… it was hard to stay subtle when Yuji was running toward you at full speed, arms wide.
“AUNTIEEEE!”
Sukuna flinched like he’d been hit.
You bent down to scoop Yuji into a hug. “There’s my favorite little chaos goblin!”
“I missed you!” He said. “Uncle Suku was so boring last week. He wouldn’t let me use the hose indoors.”
“Because I’m not a psychopath.”
You whispered to Yuji “We’ll stage a mutiny later.”
He giggled and kissed your cheek loudly.
That was strike one.
——————————————————————————
Strike two came later when one of Sukuna’s cousins, a tall guy with a man bun and too many opinions about kombucha asked. “So, what’s your deal with the grump here? Just friends?”
You opened your mouth, ready to deflect with your usual “I’m his handler” joke, but Yuji beat you to it.
“They kiss a lot!” Exclaimed proudly, licking a popsicle. “Like, a lot a lot. I saw them one time on the couch and Uncle Suku said I had to pretend I didn’t.”
Dead silence. You blinked. Sukuna blinked.
The cousin blinked and grinned. “Ohhhh.”
You covered your face.
——————————————————————————
Strike three came barely a minute later when Yuji, still unaware of the social nuke he’d dropped, said to Sukuna’s mom, loudly. “Uncle Suku said he’s gonna marry her one day but he’s being a big chicken about it.”
Sukuna choked on his beer. You very, very calmly set down your lemonade before you dropped it.
Yuji looked up at his grandmother innocently. “Right, Ba-chan? He said he was gonna do it soon. With a ring and everything. Like on TV.”
The silence was now legendary. Sukuna’s mother turned slowly to her eldest son.
He coughed, red-faced, and muttered “Kids say weird things.”
“Oh no.” You said, barely holding back laughter. “Let’s hear more about this ring, chicken man.”
“I’m going to exile him.” Sukuna growled. “I swear to God.”
——————————————————————————
You didn’t bring it up again that night.
He was flustered enough. You could tell by how much he was cleaning. Sukuna never cleaned while angry, only while thinking. While trying to process. And judging by how many times he rearranged his spice rack, he was practically having an existential crisis.
So you let it go, for about a week at least. Until you noticed him acting… weirder than usual.
You’d wake up and find him staring at you like he was trying to memorize every freckle on your face. He kept checking his coat pockets, muttering under his breath. He googled “best restaurants with rooftop views near me” and pretended he didn’t. He even said “I love you” first one night and then acted like he hadn’t.
You were no genius, but you could put two and two together. Still, you didn’t say anything.
Because this? Watching him unravel like a tightly wound spool of sarcasm and anxiety? This was fun.
——————————————————————————
The night it finally happened, he invited you to dinner. Which wasn’t weird. Except he was nervous. Weirdly nervous.
“You okay?” You asked, brushing lint off his shirt as he fiddled with his keys.
“Fine.”
“You look like you’re about to testify in court.”
He scowled. “Just get in the car.”
He took you to a rooftop restaurant overlooking the city. Very fancy. Very romantic. Very not Sukuna.
You raised an eyebrow. “Wow. Trying to get laid or trying to hide a body?”
“Shut up.”
The dinner was good. The wine was better. And you were just starting to feel that warm, fizzy buzz when Sukuna reached into his coat pocket.
Paused. Frowned. Checked the other pocket. Then the inside. Then his wallet.
“Everything okay?” You asked, eyeing him as if he had just grown a second head.
“I… I forgot something.”
You tilted your head. “What’d you forget?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he stood up so abruptly he knocked his chair into a waiter. Then he mumbled “Be right back” and practically sprinted down the stairs.
You stared after him.
Okay you thought to yourself, So either he’s proposing or he just remembered he left the oven on.
——————————————————————————
Ten minutes later, he came back, flushed and out of breath, holding…
A tiny, slightly crumpled black velvet box.
You blinked. He sat down, still panting.
“Had to run to the car.” He muttered. “Was in the glovebox. Under your fuzzy socks.”
You stared at him. Then at the box. Then back at him.
“You kept a ring next to my socks?”
“I panicked!”
You covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.
He exhaled and pushed the box toward you, not opening it, not kneeling, just sliding it across the table like it was a cursed artifact.
“I was gonna do this right.” He said. “Fireworks. String lights. Maybe a cat in a tux.”
“A cat in a- ”
“But then Yuji opened his gob, and you started looking at me like you knew, and I started panicking every time you reached for a coffee mug like you might find it by accident- ”
You opened the box. Simple. Silver band. A small, round-cut diamond in a vintage setting. Elegant. Understated. So you.
You looked up, eyes glossy. “You picked this?”
He shrugged. “You said you liked rings that look like heirlooms. You were half-asleep. Probably don’t even remember saying it.”
Your chest ached. You stood, walked around the table, and sat on his lap, not caring that half the restaurant was now watching.
“You’re a mess.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“And you’re a menace.” He said. “I think I’m about to have a heart attack, so can you please just put me out of my misery?”
“You didn’t actually ask, you know.”
He rolled his eyes. “Will you marry me, even though I’m emotionally stunted and allergic to sentiment?”
You grinned. “Absolutely.”
He kissed you. Not gentle, not shy, but completely, hopelessly yours.
Applause broke out from a nearby table.
You flipped them off without breaking the kiss.
——————————————————————————
You didn’t tell Yuji until a week later.
He was on your shared couch, watching cartoons, shoveling goldfish crackers into his mouth. You sat beside him. Sukuna stood behind the couch, arms crossed, trying not to smile.
“Hey, champ.” You said. “Guess what?”
Yuji looked at you.
“We’re getting married.”
Yuji gasped. Loudly.
Then jumped up and screamed. “I WIN! I WIN! I TOLD YOU!”
You blinked. “Told who what?”
He pointed at Sukuna. “He said he wasn’t gonna do it until next year. But I said he was a big chicken and he was gonna do it this month! I win!”
Sukuna stared at his nephew like he was an ancient demon haunting his bloodline.
“Did you bet on my proposal timeline?” You asked.
Yuji looked smug. “I also bet with Ba-chan. She owes me ice cream.”
You howled with laughter.
Sukuna groaned. “Why do I feel like I’m being outsmarted by a five-year-old?”
You leaned into him, kissing his cheek. “Because you are.”
Neither of you would change a thing.
Tags: @noooo-onee @suna-yoshihara @hawkwithsocks @pickledsoda
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