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The Right Time - Sukuna x Reader - Chp. 10

Chp. 9 - Chp. 10 - Chp. 11

summary: Your life was blissfully chaotic. Being a single mom and raising a daughter with a bigger attitude than yours was a challenge, but you love every second of it. You decided to move to the city to be closer to work. You’ve been at your new apartment for about three weeks now and everything has been great. Until, your annoyingly hot neighbor decided to open his mouth.

cw: female reader, modern au (no curses), 18+, enemies(ish) to friends to lovers, mechanic!sukuna x librarian!reader, found family, slow burn, fluff, explicit smut, crack, angst, toxicity, Sukuna is emotionally constipated, Nobora is readers daughter, Choso and Yuji are Sukuna’s nephews, Toji is a present father in this, LOTS of family fluff, manga spoilers?

wc: 11k

chp warning: Sukuna pov (for a bit), ANGST, death, acts of violence, talk of mental health issues, Yorozu is a big warning this chapter

a/n: have fun getting slapped in the face with Sukuna lore :D

You texted Toji to pick up Nobara and the boys so fast when Sukuna basically threw you on his bike, you didn’t even wait for a response. Your message was short and to the point: “Pick up the kids. Sukuna and I have to talk.” Sukuna just yelled at his employees to make sure to close the place down properly or they were fired.

And off you both went on his bike.

Toji read your message, cussed up a storm, and grabbed his keys. He wasn’t actually mad—just annoyed about what was going to happen between you and Sukuna. He sent you the middle finger emoji (which, honestly, you were surprised he even knew how to find) and headed out to wrangle four kids.

But you’re too busy to see any of that right now. Your arms are wrapped tightly around Sukuna, your head pressed to his back as the world blurs by. It feels strangely normal, holding onto him as he weaves through city streets and out onto the open road. The wind whips past, carrying away all the words you haven’t said.

But then again, it doesn’t feel normal at all. He hasn’t spoken to you all week. After everything with Yorozu, you didn’t know what to do or what to say. Seeing that side of him—raw, angry, vulnerable—had left you rattled. You knew there was a story behind it all, and after witnessing how Yorozu treated him, you believed Toji a little more when he said Sukuna’s past was complicated. But the silence between you two only let your mind wander to darker places.

At first, you told yourself he needed space. That was fair. Then you saw him when you were getting Nobora ready for school, and your nerves made you awkward. You’d squeaked out a shy “hi” that sounded nothing like you, and he’d just stared, unreadable.

After that, you let things drift, trusting he’d come to you when he was ready. But now, over a week later, you’re just a little pissed it took this long. Still, you can’t complain—you’re back on his bike, arms around him, heart pounding with every curve.

You used to be nervous about riding with him, but now you’re ashamed to admit how much you like the adrenaline rush, the way the world narrows to just you, him, and the road. When he finally slows and turns off onto a familiar, secluded path, your breath catches. He’s brought you back to the same place as before—the scenic overlook, where everything feels quiet and safe.

He kills the engine and helps you off, taking his time with your helmet. When he finally sees your face, he smiles, and you turn away quickly, trying to hide your blush. He starts toward the clearing, settling on a ledge that overlooks the field below with a shallow creek at the bottom. The late afternoon sun casts everything in gold, the creek glinting in the distance.

You stumble after him, heels sinking into the soft ground like a newborn deer. It’s not that you can’t walk in hells, you’re actually pretty good at it—it’s just fucking impossible to walk in heels on grass. You give up, slipping them off and letting the cool, damp earth press against your feet.

Sukuna raises a brow, chuckling. “Why would you wear heels if you can’t walk in ’em?”

You frown, plopping down next to him. “I didn’t know we were going to be in the fucking woods, Sukuna.”

You cross your arms, but you can’t help the way your eyes drift over the view. The field stretches out below, wildflowers nodding in the breeze, the creek winding its way through the trees. You take a deep breath and let it out slowly. “It is beautiful out here, though.”

Sukuna glances at you, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, it is,” he says, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you.

You turn to look at him, searching his face for answers. For a long moment, neither of you speak. You study every line, every flicker of emotion, trying to piece together the man beside you.

“So…” you start, the word hanging between you.

“So. What do you wanna know?” he asks, one brow raised, voice soft but open.

Your eyes widen and you stare at him like a deer in headlights. “Oh! I mean, I dunno—” You fumble for words, suddenly unsure how much to push.

Sukuna chuckles and leans his head back, resting against the rough bark of a tree. “Don’t be afraid to ask me, baby. I’ll be honest with ya.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks at the nickname. You should probably yell at him for calling you that again, but the truth is, you missed hearing it. The way his voice wraps around the word makes your stomach twist with nerves and something sweeter.

“Well, I mean… just tell me what you want me to know. If it’s a little story or a whole novel, I’ll listen.” You offer a small, encouraging smile, and he returns it, the tension between you easing just a little.

You add, “And don’t worry—I had Toji get the kids.”

Sukuna laughs, a deep, genuine sound. “Oh, fuck, he’s gonna be pissed.” The two of you share a laugh at the thought, the awkwardness fading away. Sukuna clears his throat, expression growing serious.

“Alright, this is kind of a long one,” he begins, voice steady but quiet.

You nod, settling in beside him. “And I’m listening.” He smiles, and for the first time in days, it reaches his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, gaze fixed on the creek below and begins talking…

Sukuna was always known as a “rough kid”. He carved out a reputation for doing what he wants, when he wants, and damn anyone who tries to stop him. The only person who could ever really stop him was Jin.

Jin’s four years older than Sukuna. He was a senior when Sukuna was just a freshman. Even then, Sukuna already towered over him, broad-shouldered and strong, while Jin’s lean and wiry, with just enough muscle to keep up but not enough to win any fights.

Without Jin’s glasses, it was surprisingly difficult to tell the two brothers apart—their facial features were nearly identical. That never bothered Jin, but when Sukuna was younger, he hated being mistaken for his older brother.

The confusion only stopped after Sukuna came home one day with bold black tattoos carved across his face (he got them when he was 15 by some underground tattoo artist) . Wasuke was pissed and gave Sukuna a good ass whopping for it. Jin, on the other hand, secretly thought the tattoos looked cool, though he’d never admit it to Sukuna. The last thing he wanted was to encourage his younger brother’s already oversized ego.

Jin was the golden child—responsible, patient, and always striving to do the right thing. He’s the one everyone relies on, the steady presence in the family. And Sukuna was a storm that swept through Jin’s carefully ordered life, unpredictable and impossible to ignore.

Whenever Sukuna does something reckless—making a girl cry, mouthing off to a teacher, getting caught fighting in the hallway, or doing drugs—Jin tries to set him straight. He threatens to beat Sukuna’s ass, but it never works. Sukuna fights people all the time and Jin can’t hurt a fly if he tried. Still, he never stops trying to protect his little brother, even when Sukuna makes it impossible.

After enough failed attempts at physical discipline, Jin figures out the one thing that actually gets to Sukuna. “I’m telling Dad you smoke pot if you don’t chill the hell out, Ryomen!” Jin yells, grabbing Sukuna by the ear as they stomp through the parking lot after school.

It was a cheap shot, and Jin knew it all too well. Still, he told himself, it was better than giving his dad something else to worry about. Every time Sukuna walked through the door, it was as if Wasuke was just waiting to start yelling about something—anything.

The man always seemed angry, and Jin couldn’t exactly blame him. Sukuna, on the other hand, treated it all like a game. He insisted he was just having a bit of fun, and maybe one day he’d outgrow it—that was the plan, at least, or so he liked to say.

“Don’t be a fucking bitch, Jin,” Sukuna spits back, shrugging him off as they head for Jin’s battered old car.

“You’re the one being a bitch,” Jin shoots back, exasperated. “You’ve gotten detention every day this week and I’ve covered for you every time. You need to learn to chill. You’re gonna end up in prison one day.”

Sukuna just rolls his eyes, arms crossed as he slouches in the passenger seat. He stares out the window, bored with the lecture, until something—or someone—catches his eye.

It was Yorozu, walking home with her bag slung over her shoulder, her raven hair shining in the afternoon sun. She spots him, and Sukuna’s mood shifts in an instant. He waves and winks at her, a cocky grin spreading across his face.

Jin just sighs, deadpan. “You’re hopeless.”

Sukuna frowns, genuinely confused. “What?”

“Isn’t she the reason you got in trouble?” Jin asks, raising his voice over the sound of the engine as he pulls out of the lot.

“Some punk ass was talking to her, so I punched him in the nose,” Sukuna mutters, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“And you think that’s okay?” Jin asks, sounding more like a worried parent than a brother.

Sukuna groans, slumping further into the seat. “Dude, just shut the fuck up.”

Jin sighs, the weight of responsibility clear in his voice. “I’m just worried, Ryomen. I’m graduating soon, and you’re not gonna have me to cover for you—”

“Jin, I don’t fucking need you to baby me! I’m fine on my own!” Sukuna snaps, the words coming out sharper than he means.

Jin gave Sukuna a long, searching stare, disappointment and worry carved plainly into every line of his face. The silence between them stretched, heavy and unresolved, until Jin finally reached over and flicked on the radio.But no matter how heated their arguments became, some things between them never changed.

Their routine was a silent agreement neither dared to break. They never missed a stop at the convenience store on the corner before heading home, where they’d buy a single ice pop to share. Even on the worst days, when words failed and tempers flared, they clung to this small ritual.

When they get home, Jin lies for him. Saving his ass once again.

Sukuna was always grateful for Jin’s loyalty, even if he never found the words to say it out loud. Jin hid a lot from Wasuke—more than Sukuna ever realized at the time. Somehow, Wasuke remained oblivious to most of the stuff that happened at school, unless the principal called home or he straight up heard about it. There were too many time loud ass neighbors would say they saw Sukuna drinking or hanging with people he shouldn’t and that’s when Wasuke would snap.

And Sukuna was in deep. He was the main dealer at school, selling weed to anyone who had the cash and the nerve to ask. His reputation made him both respected and feared in equal measure. Fights were a regular occurrence. He never backed down, his knuckles always raw and bruised.

Looking back now, Sukuna can see how reckless it all was—the fights, the deals, the constant defiance. But back then, it was just life—messy, wild, and spinning out of control. Through it all, Jin was always there, quietly trying to pick up the pieces Sukuna left behind, patching over the cracks before anyone else could see.

Jin graduated in June and started college that fall. Sukuna never said it out loud, but he was gutted when his brother left. At first, he spiraled—wilder than ever. He started smoking on school grounds, skipping school completely, going to parties, selling more than just weed- mainly pills and sinking deeper into trouble. His grades tanked, and the people he hung out with only dragged him further down.

People like Yorozu.

Guys were drawn to her, but she never pretended to be anything she wasn’t. She was sharp-tongued, brutally honest, and unapologetically herself, no matter who she offended. Sukuna thought he loved that about her—her fearlessness, her refusal to play by anyone’s rules but her own. At the time, it felt like the only thing that made sense.

Uraume was there too, always trailing after Sukuna. They finally started at his school his sophomore year after being homeschooled forever. They had grown up as neighbors and they have always been really close.

When Uraume started school, Sukuna promised their parents he’d look out for them. He felt like an older sibling, teaching Uraume how to fight, how to stand up for themselves, never letting anyone mess with them. He even made them wait outside when he was selling drugs. Uraume always looked up to Sukuna, followed him everywhere, and they couldn’t stand Yorozu.

“So, are you a girl or what?” Yorozu asked one afternoon, sitting under the bridge as they waited for Sukuna to come back. Uraume ignored her, tossing rocks into the creek, jaw set tight.

Yorozu rolled her eyes, pulled out a blunt she’d rolled earlier, and lit up. “Want a hit?” she asked, exhaling smoke.

Uraume shook their head. Then, footsteps—Sukuna’s. He just got back from a deal. He walked over, ruffled Uraume’s hair. “Hey, Yoro, I’m gonna take them home. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He smiled, genuine.

Yorozu frowned, standing up. “You’re not gonna walk me home?”

He shrugged. “You can walk with us. I’ll drop them off first and—”

She stomped past, shoving Sukuna with her shoulder. “Don’t bother.”

They watch her walk off, “I don’t like her.” Uruame says and stares off.

Sukuna sighs, “Come on, kid.”

He remembered that day vividly because it was his sixteenth birthday. Yorozu didn’t wish him a happy birthday, not once. He acted like he didn’t care, but it stung. The girl he was falling for didn’t even notice or try to care.

He gave her money from his drug deals, did her history homework (because being the nerd that he was, he actually loved history) and gave her weed whenever she wanted. All she gave in return were the occasional make out sessions. Not that he was complaining—he was a horny teenager—but still.

When he got home with Uraume, their parents, Wasuke, and Jin were waiting, surprising him with cake. They celebrated, laughed, and for a moment, Sukuna felt like a normal kid. He was just happy to see Jin, who’d been so busy at college.

After Uraume and their parents left, Jin pulled Sukuna aside. “I got a birthday present for you,” he said, grinning.

“Why?” Sukuna asked, suspicious. Wasuke smacked him on the back of the head. “Be grateful, damn it.”

Sukuna winced, followed Jin to the garage—and stopped dead in his tracks. There it was, a black Kawasaki. His black Kawasaki that his still has today. The one he’d been talking about since he was nine. He’d shown Jin pictures in magazines, pointed out every bike for sale they ever passed. Now it was real.

He wanted to cry, but his pride wouldn’t let him. Jin clapped him on the shoulder. “I know it’s not a car, but Dad and I talked. Once you get your license, she’s yours.”

Sukuna was speechless, terrified a tear might escape if he looked at his brother or dad in the eye. Instead, he just hugged Jin tight.

Jin laughed, hugging him back. “Happy birthday, bud.”

And you better believe Sukuna got his license within a week. His dad bought him a helmet and gloves, and suddenly, he had a new obsession. The bike became his whole personality—he spent hours working on it, cleaning it. He even started mowing lawns to save up for gear and new parts.

The freedom it gave him was addictive. Whenever he had the chance hit the road, eager to chase down new routes and hidden backroads. There was a raw thrill in discovering stretches of pavement that felt untouched, like they were made just for him. But what he loved most was the rush—the surge of adrenaline when he twisted the throttle on a long, open stretch, the engine roaring beneath him, the wind whipping past, and the world blurring at the edges.

That bike changed everything. Once he ran out of his supplies, he stopped selling—he couldn’t drive high anyway, and he didn’t have time for that crowd anymore. He tried to keep his grades at least at a C. He was busy, focused, and for the first time, he felt like he was getting his shit together.

Yorozu hated it. She hated how it devoured all his attention. The bitterness festered inside her, growing heavier with every ride he took. She wanted his eyes on her. So, in a desperate bid to reclaim his attention, she made her move.

After school she saw Sukuna standing around a crowd of people. So, she walked right in front of him, with all the calculated spite she could muster, and locked lips with some random guy. It was reckless, it was cruel, and she hoped it would hurt him just as much as she was hurting.

It worked exactly as she’d hoped—Sukuna’s eyes darkened with fury the moment he saw her. Without a second thought, he stormed over and landed a solid punch square on the stranger’s jaw, sending the guy stumbling back. Then, with a rough grip, he yanked Yorozu away from the scene, his anger radiating off him in waves.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

She shrugged, pouting. “Oh, look who decided to talk to me.”

He was frustrated. He’d been doing so well—no fights, better grades, trying to stay out of trouble for his dad and for Uraume. “Yoro, I’ve been busy. You know that.”

“It doesn’t matter. I know I’m not important anyway.” She started to cry, and Sukuna’s resolve crumbled. He thought he liked her—at least, he didn’t want to see her cry.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you, okay?”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?”

He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll take you on a date this Friday. With the money I got from mowing, okay?”

She squealed, kissed him, and walked off, satisfied.

Sukuna meant it. He genuinely wanted to take her out, to show her he cared, to prove to himself—and maybe to her—that he was changing. But then, one crisp morning before school, he ran into his old plug by chance. They didn’t have any bad blood between them, so Sukuna stopped to talk.

“That’s a nice bike,” the guy said, nodding appreciatively.

“Yeah,” Sukuna replied with a grin, running a hand over the handlebars. “She’s my baby.”

They stood there for a few minutes, shooting the shit, catching up on the usual. Then, out of nowhere, the guy said something that knocked the wind out of Sukuna’s chest.

“So, why’d you and Yorozu split? She’s probably the best piece of ass I’ve had in a while.”

Sukuna’s brow furrowed, and he turned to face him, eyes narrowing. “Huh?”

The guy shrugged casually. “She came to me about a month ago, crying, saying you were done with her.”

Sukuna just nodded, swallowing hard, not trusting himself to speak. He couldn’t get dragged into another fight over Yorozu—especially not over her hooking up with someone else. That would be pathetic. This guy wasn’t worth it, and neither was she.

“We’ve been fucking for a while now,” the guy added, smirking. “But we cool, right?”

Sukuna forced a weak smile, masking the sting behind his eyes. “Oh yeah, man, don’t worry. I dropped that bitch because she’s got crabs. She’s dirty as hell.”

It was a lie. Yorozu was actually super clean. She’d grown up in a drug house, so she always tried to keep her image spotless. And they haven’t even fucked yet. But Sukuna didn’t give a damn.

He didn’t know what was funnier—the look on the guy’s face when he said it, or Yorozu’s meltdown when she found out later.

After that, Sukuna knew he could never have anything real with Yorozu. But he never left her. Junior year, they hung around each other just the same—still toxic as ever. They fought, made up, and eventually started fucking. Whenever they could.

Yeah, Ryomen Sukuna was a virgin until he was seventeen—if he said otherwise, he was lying. And Uraume will call him out, since they had the unfortunate timing of walking in on Sukuna and Yorozu too many times.

Something else happened to Sukuna when he was seventeen—he became an uncle.

Wasuke and Sukuna had never really worried about Jin when it came to succeeding. Jin always had his act together, always landed on his feet. But when it came to girls? That was another story. Wasuke, for all his gruff wisdom, had been a self-proclaimed manwhore in his day—a respectful one, he liked to add, but still a manwhore. Sukuna, for his part, took out his stress on Yorozu whenever he could, and when that didn’t cut it, he’d make out with other girls just to make Yorozu jealous. It was a mess, but at least he was honest about it.

Jin, though? Jin never talked about his love life. Wasuke used to joke that his eldest would be alone forever, and Sukuna would tease Jin mercilessly, calling him a super virgin until Jin would threaten to blackmail him with all the dirt he had on Sukuna’s own escapades. That usually shut him up.

So, imagine their surprise when Jin showed up at home one evening with a woman who was very obviously pregnant. Sukuna would never forget the look on Wasuke’s face—he honestly thought he was going to have to revive his dad from a heart attack right there in the kitchen.

Jin was still in college at the time, juggling classes and a paid internship at an elite sales company. That’s where he met Kaori. She was sweet—almost too sweet for Sukuna’s taste—but she fit in with the family better than he expected. She had a way of making everyone feel at ease, even Wasuke, who was a grumpy asshole.

Before long, Kaori gave birth to Choso. Sukuna remembered the first time he held the little brat—Choso was tiny, red-faced, and screaming his head off. Sukuna felt something strange twist in his chest, something warm and terrifying. He almost cried right there in the hospital, but his ego made him shove the baby back into Jin’s arms and escape to the bathroom.

No way was he going to cry over some kid, especially not in front of his brother.

Around that time, Sukuna also landed a job at the local auto shop. He started out working after school on Wednesdays and weekends. The place smelled like oil and old coffee, and his boss was a grumpy old man with a permanent grease stain on his shirt, but Sukuna loved it. The work was honest, the kind that left his hands sore and his mind clear. His boss taught him everything—how to change a tire, how to rebuild an engine, how to spot a lie in a customer’s story.

Work became his sanctuary. If he wasn’t with his family or Uraume, he was with Yorozu, and lately, that felt more like a chore than anything else. She always needed attention, always wanted more than he could give. The auto shop gave him a break from all of that, even if he came home exhausted and covered in grease. For the first time, he felt like he was building something of his own—something that didn’t depend on anyone else’s chaos but his own.

Another year passed. Sukuna was about to graduate. His grades weren’t bad at all—not good enough for scholarships, but something to brag about considering where he’d started. Yorozu, on the other hand, only managed to graduate because she paid people to do her homework or bribed them with drugs. She would never leave that life behind.

Sukuna let her play that game alone. He’d already decided he was going to slowly slip out of her life after graduation. He didn’t know what his future held, but he was determined to keep working, to keep trying, until he figured it out.

At his graduation, he could swear he heard Jin and Wasuke cheering the loudest out of the entire crowd. They were so proud of him—especially Jin. Sukuna was more in disbelief than anything else. He hadn’t really believed he’d make it this far.

Later that evening, Wasuke hosted a small graduation party at the house. The kitchen was packed with family, friends, and neighbors. Laughter and the smell of grilled food filled the air. Everyone was there—except Yorozu.

Wasuke had made it clear she wasn’t welcome. He wasn’t stupid. As years passed he knew what his son had been up to, but he had one rule: Yorozu was not allowed at the house. Sukuna didn’t argue. He understood, even if it made things complicated.

Yorozu, of course, didn’t take that well. She’d noticed how quickly Sukuna left after the ceremony, and she’d overheard Uraume’s parents mention a graduation party at his place. That was all it took for her to see red.

She was angry that Sukuna didn’t want to spend time with her. They should be celebrating together. It’s not like her alcoholic, abusive father would do anything for her. So, she decided if she wasn’t going to have a good time, then no one was.

She walked to Sukuna’s house in her cap and gown, mascara streaking down her face from fresh tears. She saw all the cars parked out front and heard the happy murmur of the party inside.

She stood there for a moment, letting her anger and heartbreak simmer. Then she spotted Sukuna’s shiny black bike parked under the carport—his precious bike, the one he always chose over her, the one he’d never let her ride. She hated that bike. Everything changed when he got that stupid fucking thing.

Without thinking, Yorozu grabbed a handful of loose gravel and hurled it at the bike. The pebbles barely left a mark, which only made her angrier. She stormed over and shoved the bike, sending it crashing onto its side with a sickening thud. Fueled by rage, she started kicking, breaking whatever she could—smashing the mirrors, denting the metal, ripping the leather seat with her sharp nails.

Suddenly, she was yanked away from her tantrum and shoved to the ground. Sukuna stood over her, his face twisted in fury.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he yelled, voice echoing across the yard.

Yorozu gasped, realizing that everyone from the party was now outside, staring at her.

“Why didn’t you tell me—” she started, but Sukuna cut her off, his voice rising even higher.

“What the fuck is your problem? Are you fucking stupid or what?” He was in her face, shaking with anger, when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

Jin was there, calm but firm. “C’mon, Ryomen.” He turned to Yorozu. “We called your dad. He’s on his way.

“Not happening. I’m fucking leaving!” Yorozu spat, scrambling to her feet and running down the road, her gown flapping behind her.

Wasuke sighed, watching her go. “He’ll see her,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Sukuna stared at his battered bike, fists clenched at his sides. He wanted to scream, to punch something, to let out all the frustration and heartbreak. But he just stood there, jaw tight, trying to hold it together.

Jin stepped up beside him, surveying the damage. “Hey, I’m sure we can fix it,” he said quietly.

Sukuna let out a shaky sigh, then managed a small, grateful smile.

After that day, Sukuna and Yorozu didn’t speak. If they saw each other in public, they acted like strangers. In a way, it was sad—but Sukuna sometimes wanted to thank her for breaking his bike. Because of her, he got to spend the entire summer with Jin.

Jin had graduated college by then he lived only thirty minutes away. He got a fancy job at the same place he interned. But he made it a point to visit as often as he could, and together, they set about repairing the bike. The garage became their workshop, filled with the scent of oil and the clatter of tools.

They’d spend hours side by side—Jin handing Sukuna a wrench, Sukuna cursing at stubborn bolts, both of them laughing at old stories and inside jokes. Sometimes Wasuke would wander in, offering unsolicited advice or just watching them work, pride shining in his eyes.

Piece by piece, they restored the bike. They both learned how to fix a bent rim, how to patch torn leather, how to buff out scratches until the paint gleamed again.

Then one night, as they were replacing a headlight on his bike, Jin tossed Sukuna a beer. Sukuna stared at his brother for a moment, suspicion flickering in his eyes—he thought it might be a trap.

Jin laughed, breaking the tension. “We’re celebrating.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Celebrating what?”

Jin’s smile grew wide, full of pride and excitement. “Kaori’s pregnant!”

Sukuna’s face softened into a genuine smile. “Congrats, man! You’ve been keeping busy.”

Jin frowned slightly, but they both raised their beers in a toast. As they clinked bottles, Sukuna felt a rare sense of peace settle over him. He was happy. He had his brother, his dad was healthy, and he had an awesome little nephew—and now another on the way.

A few months later, Sukuna turned nineteen. To celebrate, he, Jin, and their dad went out to dinner. The three of them were a handful, talking and laughing for hours. Sukuna had been so busy with work, saving up for whatever big plan he was cooking up, so he was genuinely glad to spend some time with his family.

After dinner, Sukuna planned to buy a few scratchers and take a ride before calling it a night. As he stood at the counter checking out, a familiar voice cut through the quiet hum of the store.

“Well, hey stranger,” the voice purred, sweet but sharp like venom.

“Oh, hey Yoro,” Sukuna replied, the nickname so ingrained it was impossible to forget.

She gave him a poisonous smile, and they talked for a few minutes. She told him she was attending community college and living with her aunt now. Sukuna was glad to hear it—he knew her dad was a piece of shit.

He kept his updates short and vague, not wanting to get too attached or reveal too much. He was doing too good with her not being in his life and he couldn’t slip up, not now.

“Well, I’ll see you around?” she purred again

“See you around, Yoro,” he said with a smile, putting on his helmet and riding off.

During the drive, he barely thought about her. It was strange how long it had been since they’d seen each other. He didn’t want to risk ruining the good things he had going, so he planned to avoid her as much as possible.

That plan worked—at least for a little while. They ran into each other again, talked a bit, and by the third time, they made a deal. If they were bored and horny, they’d hook up. No strings attached.

Sukuna made sure to emphasize that.

He stayed focused on his vision—whatever that might be—and didn’t let her distract him. Yorozu was just a casual fuck, a way to get off without complications. He didn’t have feelings for her anymore. Sure, he didn’t want to see her hurt, but she was just someone he knew, someone he was used to.

“You’re really messing with her again?” Jin frowned as they drove to the hospital. Kaori was at work when her water broke. Jin hadn’t gotten the call because he was stuck in a meeting and only saw it thirty minutes later. Now, he and Sukuna were speeding down the interstate.

“We just fuck,” Sukuna sighed.

“How classy,” Jin muttered sarcastically.

Sukuna flipped him off. “It’s not like I’m gonna marry her or anything.”

Jin sighed dramatically. “Oh god, please don’t. That would kill Dad. He’d actually keel over and die.” They both burst into laughter.

After the laughter died down, Jin started, “Speaking of marriage—”

Sukuna’s eyes widened.

“I’m going to ask Kaori to marry me next month.”

Sukuna chuckled and patted his brother’s shoulder. “Only took her having two babies for you to ask, huh?”

They laughed and bickered all the way to the hospital. When they arrived, Kaori was already dilated to nine centimeters, screaming for Jin. Like the good man he was, Jin profusely apologized for being late and stayed by her side through the rest of the labor.

Outside the waiting room, Sukuna, Wasuke, and little Choso sat together on a row of chairs. Choso swung his legs restlessly, his sneakers thumping against the metal frame, mumbling a stream of words that Sukuna could only half decipher. Wasuke, meanwhile, had dozed off, his head tilted back and mouth slightly open, snoring softly.

Eventually, Choso couldn’t sit still any longer. He hopped off his chair and began running up and down the hallway, his laughter echoing off the sterile walls as he tried to burn off his excess energy. Sukuna watched him dart back and forth, a small smile tugging at his lips. Honestly, it was pretty entertaining—better than anything else this dreary hospital could offer.

Somehow, Choso had become Sukuna’s little best friend. Whenever he had the chance, Sukuna would take him to the corner shop for snacks, or to the park to chase pigeons and climb on the jungle gym. Once, he’d even tried to give Choso a ride on his bike, but Kaori and Jin had freaked out the moment they found out.

They threatened Sukuna that if he didn’t stop putting Choso on the bike, they wouldn’t let him watch over the kid anymore. Sukuna called them lame and told them to back off, but in the end, he decided it was easier to just keep Choso off the bike.

At least, not until he was older.

About an hour later, Jin emerged with teary eyes. “You guys ready to meet Yuji?”

Choso immediately clapped and jumped up and down. His parents had been talking about him becoming a big brother forever, and now it was finally happening. Sukuna nodded and nudged Wasuke awake, who jolted upright so fast acting like he wasn’t just drooling all over himself.

When Sukuna met Yuji for the first time, it was different from when he’d first held Choso. Yuji wasn’t crying—just wide eyed and impossibly alert for a newborn, his tiny head turning as if he were already trying to take in the world. Sukuna could have sworn the baby smiled at him, a fleeting expression that made his heart ache in ways he didn’t know it could.

He was in love instantly.

What made it even more surreal was how much the baby resembled him. Sure, everyone always said Jin and Sukuna looked like twins, but Yuji—he looked just like Sukuna had as a baby. There was no question Yuji was Jin’s son, but the resemblance was uncanny.

Choso was obsessed with his little brother from the start. He’d hold Yuji every chance he got, chattering about cartoons, bugs, or whatever popped into his head. Watching Jin with his two sons, Sukuna sometimes had to look away to blink back tears.

His brother had built a life for himself—a career, a beautiful family. He was a good man, and Sukuna knew how lucky he was to have him. He tried to cherish every moment, holding them close like treasures he was afraid to lose.

A month passed in a blur. Sukuna worked long hours at the shop, and had been so busy helping with Jin’s big secret. Tonight, Jin was finally going to propose to Kaori at a nice restaurant. Sukuna had made the reservation himself, double-checking every detail. It was the least he could do for his brother, and honestly, it was about time. Jin and Kaori had been together forever and already had two kids. Sukuna was excited to see them finally make it official.

Meanwhile, Sukuna’s arrangement with Yorozu continued, casual and detached. They didn’t hang out. If she needed something and it wasn’t out of his way, he’d help, but that was it. It felt transactional, but it filled a gap in both their lives. He didn’t want to lose that, not now.

But today was different. Yorozu called the shop—something she never did, she knew not to because Sukuna would go off on her. The first time, Sukuna’s boss answered, and Sukuna told him to say he was busy. After the sixth call, though, Sukuna finally picked up, more annoyed than anything.

“What, Yorozu?” he grumbled.

“I need to borrow your car,” she said bluntly.

Sukuna hesitated. He had his bike, but Jin had given him his old junker car after upgrading, and Sukuna kept it around for rainy days and not wanting to put so much wear and tear on his bike. It was just luck that he had driven it to work today. He couldn’t imagine why Yorozu needed it—she hadn't asked for a big favor in a while.

“Why?”

She sighed, the fatigue in her voice unmistakable. “I have to get everything out of my dad’s house. When I moved out, I left most of my stuff. He’s getting evicted, so I need to grab my things. I’d rather not carry it all and walk.”

Sukuna let out a long sigh. She never asked for something like this, and he knew her relationship with her dad was a mess. He’d rather let her drive that old car than walk. They were on “good terms” these days, he didn’t want to lose that, so against his better judgment, he agreed.

“Yeah, but I need it back before five. I’ve got family plans tonight.”

Yorozu scoffed. “I will.”

It sounded half hearted, but an hour later, she showed up at the shop. Sukuna handed her the keys, warning her not to mess with anything. If she broke something, she’d never use the car again. She just smiled sweetly and left.

After she was gone, Sukuna got back to work. The day was busy—too many cars, too many customers who thought they knew more than him because he was only nineteen. He proved them wrong, though. He always did.

As the afternoon wore on, five o’clock came and went. Dinner was at 7:00, and Sukuna wanted to get home, change, and be ready on time. By 5:30, when Yorozu still hadn’t answered his calls, he gave up and called Jin, furious at himself for letting his guard down.

This is what he got for trying to be nice. For trusting someone, even a little.

It was his own dumbass fault.

So, he swallowed his pride and called Jin, expecting an earful.

“Hey, Ryomen! I’m getting ready now, gotta pick up Kaori, Dad’s got the boys—”

“I need a ride,” Sukuna said, defeated.

“What’s wrong?” Jin asked, instantly alert.

“I let Yorozu use my car—”

“Are you serious right now?” Jin sighed.

“Can you just come get me, please?” Sukuna huffed.

“I gotta stop and get Kaori, then I’ll be on my way. Just so you know, you’re getting a lecture about this tomorrow.”

“Yeah, whatever. See you when you get here. Love you.”

There was a pause, then a soft chuckle. “Love you too, Ryomen. I’ll be there soon.”

Sukuna had never said that to Jin before. They showed it in their actions, never in words. It felt strange, but he was glad he’d said it.

He told his boss he’d close up the shop since he had to wait anyway. He busied himself with shutting everything down, but as the minutes ticked by, a cold anxiety crept in. It’d been over an hour. Jin never took this long. He called Jin sixteen times.

No answer.

That had never happened. Jin always answered on the first ring.

A sick feeling twisted in Sukuna’s gut. That heavy, sinking dread—the kind you get right before the world falls apart.

Then the phone rang. It was his dad.

When Sukuna talked about that call later, he said it felt like a bullet tearing through his chest.

“Jin got in a car accident. it doesn't look too good.”

Wasuke didn’t have time to say anything else. Sukuna just started running. He didn’t know where—maybe he’d find the accident, maybe he’d run into Yorozu or his dad with the boys. He just needed to move, to find someone, to do something before he exploded.

And then, as if fate had led him there, he saw it. A twisted pile of cars, the aftermath of some freak accident. Jin’s silver car was crushed in the middle of it all. All thanks to a drunk driver.

He stood frozen, watching as ambulances, firefighters, and police swarmed the scene, pulling bodies from the wreckage. It was chaos—blood, metal, screams, crying children.

Sukuna knew, right then and there.

As he watched the nightmare unfold, a single tear slipped down his cheek. It felt like a part of him was dying—or already had.

Kaori was pronounced dead at the scene. Jin was rushed to the hospital in critical condition, but the EMTs and police could only offer hollow reassurances to Wasuke and Sukuna. There was no real hope left—not when you saw the look in their eyes, not when you heard the silence that followed the sirens.

The hospital was a blur of harsh lights, antiseptic smells, and the low hum of grief. Sukuna and his father sat numbly in the waiting room, holding Choso and Yuji close. Kaori’s parents sat nearby, their faces pale and hollow with shock. They’d always liked Jin, had hoped for a miracle, but now their daughter was gone, and they didn’t know how to move forward.

Doctors came and went, updating them on Jin’s emergency surgeries. Each time, their words grew more desperate, less hopeful. About an hour later, Jin was pronounced dead. It was as if the world stopped turning. Yuji started crying, as if he understood the loss, and Sukuna rocked him gently, trying to soothe him through his own tears.

Wasuke walked outside to smoke—a habit he’d never had before, but grief makes strangers of us all. Kaori’s parents broke down again, their sobs echoing through the sterile hallways. Choso, still too young to really understand, clung to Sukuna, wide-eyed and silent.

Sukuna has hated hospitals ever since that night.

The next day, Sukuna stayed with the boys while Wasuke and Kaori’s parents made funeral arrangements. He and Kaori’s parents had never been close, but now they were bound by a terrible, shared grief—a bond neither of them had wanted. They moved through the funeral home like ghosts, speaking in whispers, their eyes red and raw.

Sukuna’s mind was blank, numb. He didn’t know what to think, what to do. Yorozu still hadn’t brought his car back, but he didn’t care. She could keep it. He didn’t want to see anything that reminded him of his brother. But he had no choice—every time he looked at Choso and Yuji, he saw Jin’s smile, Kaori’s eyes. Two perfect little boys, now orphaned in a single night.

How unfair was it, Sukuna thought, that both of their parents were taken from them at once? What kind of world did that to children?

He finally put the boys down for a nap and was about to try to sleep himself when he heard the sound of a familiar engine outside.

Yorozu pulled up and ran out of the car, frantic and disheveled. “I am so sorry—”

“Jin’s dead,” Sukuna said, his voice flat and cold.

Yorozu’s eyes widened. “What?”

“He got into a car accident last night. He was on his way to pick me up because you never brought back my car.”

“Sukuna, I said I was—”

“Where were you?” he asked, his voice icy.

She hesitated, swallowing hard. “I didn’t think I’d be that long. I stopped by my plug’s house and lost track of time.”

“I thought you had to move shit out of your dad’s?” He asks coldly.

“I did, but it didn’t take that long and I thought I had time-“ she stops talking when she realizes there’s no point.

Sukuna’s face went blank. He walked up to her, ripped the keys from her hand, and turned away. There was nothing left to say. He didn’t want to look at her, didn’t want to look at himself. He should have said no, should have kept his boundaries. Now, whatever trust he’d rebuilt with Yorozu was gone—and so was Jin.

“Sukuna—”

“His funeral will be this week,” he said quietly, then walked back into the house, closing the door behind him.

Yorozu stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door, before turning and walking away. Uraume watched her leave from the window. Once Yorozu was out of sight, they came inside to check on Sukuna.

Sukuna was so numb—so angry, so lost—that he just crawled into bed and slept. It was easier that way. In sleep, he didn’t have to think or feel. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could dream of Jin alive and healthy, laughing like he used to.

Uraume let him sleep all day, quietly caring for the boys—well, for Choso, at least. Yuji slept most of the time because he was only a month and half old. He only woke up to fed or cry for his diaper to be changed. They had to learn quickly how to bottle feed Yuji. Thank goodness he was an easy baby.

This was also the day Uraume discovered they actually liked to cook. They decided to make homemade soup with ingredients they found in the kitchen. When Sukuna finally woke, Uraume forced him to eat something. He’d always remember that small act of kindness. The food was actually good, and for a brief moment, he almost felt human again.

But nothing could fill the hole Jin and Kaori left behind. The house was too quiet, the future too uncertain. Sukuna sat in the dark, holding the boys, listening to their soft breaths, and wondered how he was supposed to go on.

The silence pressed in on him, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the occasional whimper from Yuji or the restless sighs of Choso in his sleep. Every shadow in the house seemed longer, every memory sharper and more painful.

That Friday was Jin’s funeral. Sukuna went with his dad to pick out the casket and flower arrangements. They knew it would be a big funeral—Jin was loved by so many, his presence woven into the lives of friends, coworkers, and neighbors. Sukuna dreaded it, the thought of facing all those people, of seeing Jin’s absence reflected in every tear-stained face.

Kaori’s parents decided to cremate her. Her body had been too badly damaged, and they didn’t want to remember her that way. The first car had struck directly on her side. They told Wasuke they’d give him some of her ashes to place in Jin’s casket, so a piece of her would be with him forever. They’d been excited for Jin to propose—he’d asked for their blessing, and they’d happily given it. He was everything they wanted for their daughter—kind, hardworking, devoted.

It wasn’t fair. Nothing about this was fair.

At the funeral, Sukuna wore an all black suit, just like his dad. He dressed the boys in little black suits too, and made sure to bring his sunglasses—not to hide, but to shield himself from the endless, pitying stares as he cried.

During the service, he sat beside his father, Yuji sleeping on his shoulder, Choso leaning against his side. Sukuna had never seen his dad cry before, but now he watched the tears slip silently down Wasuke’s face.

Jin’s mother sat beside Wasuke, her face drawn and pale, her eyes hollow with grief. She clung tightly to Wasuke’s hand as people took turns giving speeches and soft music played in the background. It was strange—almost surreal—to see them like this, so small and fragile beneath the weight of sorrow. Sukuna watched them, feeling a heaviness in his own chest. He understood, at least as much as he could.

“You’re not supposed to bury your kids,” Wasuke whispered, his voice strained and broken, barely audible over the murmurs of the crowd. The words hung in the air, raw and aching. Sukuna reached over and patted his father’s leg, offering what little comfort he could as they watched the casket slowly lower into the earth. The finality of it settled over them, cold and unrelenting.

As Sukuna watched his brother’s body sink lower into the earth, something unfamiliar claws at his chest. Regret—raw, suffocating, relentless—crashed over him in a way he’s never known. It’s like being dragged beneath a black tide, unable to fight, unable to breathe.

He wishes—God, he wished—he’d told Jin thank you. Thank you for always standing up for him, for covering his lies without hesitation, for being the kind of brother Sukuna never deserved. The memory of Jin’s quiet loyalty twists the knife deeper. Sukuna can barely stand to remember all those times he brushed his brother off, choosing parties, chaos, and Yorozu’s reckless company over the one person who truly cared for him.

The tears spill relentlessly beneath his sunglasses, hot and unyielding, carving silent paths down his face. There’s no point in trying to hide them anymore—no mask strong enough to hold back this flood. He wishes, with a desperate ache, that he could be buried alongside his brother, swallowed by the earth and erased from the world. He’s never known this feeling before—the raw, hollow urge to disappear, to stop existing.

How is he supposed to go on without Jin? Of course, he understood logically that his brother was gone, but the truth didn’t truly sink in until the crushing realization hit him like a blow. He would never see Jin again. Never hear that infectious laugh that used to cut through the darkest moments. Never get yelled at or teased again.

What a fool he’d been. What a selfish, blind idiot. Each memory is a stone tied to his ankles, pulling him down, down, down. He wants to scream, to claw at the dirt, to turn back time and fix everything, but it’s too late. Jin is gone, and Sukuna is left with nothing but the unbearable weight of his own failures. He can’t stop replaying every missed chance, every careless word, every moment he took for granted. The regret is endless, a spiral with no bottom, and for the first time, Sukuna wonders if he’ll ever escape it.

When it was time, Sukuna took Choso’s hand and led him to the grave. He scooped up a handful of dirt, and Choso did the same, both tossing it onto the casket below. The sound of dirt hitting wood was final and cruel. Sukuna picked up Choso, who didn’t fully understand, but mimicked the sadness in the air. The little boy laid his head on Sukuna’s shoulder, and Sukuna rubbed his back, whispering, “It’s okay. I got you, buddy. Forever.” He held Choso tight as they returned to Wasuke, who was cradling baby Yuji—Yuji, who was babbling and smiling, too young to know what he’d lost.

Sukuna was so caught up in the funeral, he barely noticed Yorozu’s absence. She and Jin had never gotten along, but what stung was the realization that if she’d ever truly cared for Sukuna, she would have been there for him. In that moment, Sukuna understood that she’d only ever used him, and now he would do the same. No more favors. Only use her when he wanted. It was only fair.

Months passed in a haze. Sukuna and Wasuke decided to raise the boys together. Kaori’s parents visited when they could, but they were broken—Kaori had been their only child, and losing her left them adrift. Sukuna finally had a plan. For so long, he’d drifted through life, unsure of his purpose. Now, he knew, he would save every penny, work every hour, do whatever it took to give Choso and Yuji a good life. His father was too old to start raising more babies, but he would help as much as he could.

Jin’s mother would stop by sporadically and check on the boys. Her and Wasuke would talk a lot, keeping each other company. She distracted herself with work. She traveled a lot as time went on. Sukuna always wondered how she felt. He wishes he could’ve talked to her more.

Death brought heartache and wounds that would never heal. It also brought practical problems—money, paperwork, endless decisions. Jin had life insurance, so the funeral and immediate expenses were covered, and Wasuke and Sukuna received a hefty check. Wasuke worried Sukuna would spiral, spend it all on drugs or alcohol, but he couldn’t blame him. Grief made you reckless.

But Sukuna surprised everyone. He bought the shop from the greasy old man he’d worked for, pouring his time and energy into the business. It kept him busy, kept him from drowning. The workers who’d known him stayed loyal, helping Sukuna keep the place running. For the first time in a long time, Sukuna felt a little better. Not whole—never whole again—but at least he was moving forward, helping his dad, raising the boys, clawing his way out of the darkness.

Uraume visited when they could, having gone to culinary school and started traveling. Whenever they were in town, they cooked for Sukuna and the boys, spending time with him, making sure he was okay. Sukuna was grateful for it, for the warmth and care, for the reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Life settled into a rhythm. Work, home, the boys, his dad. They talked about Jin often, telling stories, keeping his memory alive. They never wanted to forget him, never wanted the boys to forget their father’s love.

One night, Sukuna decided to go to the bar. He felt stable, maybe even a little hopeful. He just wanted to have a drink, maybe flirt, maybe take someone home. His dad offered to watch the boys so Sukuna could have a night to himself.

But fate had other plans.

Yorozu was there. Isn’t this the worse case of Deja vu?

She was like a shadow he couldn’t outrun, always finding her way back into his life. He tried to ignore her, but she saw him, and her words—sweet and venomous—slipped into his mind, filling the cracks left by grief. He was weak, desperate for comfort, for anything that might make him feel alive again.

He hated himself for it, but he let her in. He always did. She never offered sympathy for his loss, never really cared about Jin. She just wanted to fill her own emptiness, and Sukuna let her, because he didn’t know how to say no.

Once upon a time Sukuna had wished things could have been different. In another life, maybe he could have loved Yorozu the way she needed, and maybe she could have been the right person for him. He’d wanted that, once. She was wild and fun, always up for anything. But he saw too much of himself in her, and it disgusted him. She was lost, angry, unwilling to change, always blaming him for her pain.

They went on like that until he met you. You were the light at the end of a tunnel he’d been stumbling through for years. With you, he finally saw what he’d been missing—real connection, real hope. Yorozu had always been a distraction, a way to numb the pain, but it never lasted. She never cared about his brother, never cared about his wounds. They were just hollow, broken people, using each other to fill the void.

He is slowly healing. Letting his life consume him in the best way possible. Letting you consume him as you both got to know each other. But there would always be that wound that would never heal and it haunts him in waves.

Some nights, when the apartment is quiet and the boys are asleep, Sukuna sits alone and lets himself grieve. He misses Jin’s laugh, Kaori’s smile, the family they could have been. He wonders if the ache will ever fade, if he’ll ever feel whole again. But for now, he keeps going—because that’s what Jin would have wanted, and because two little boys are counting on him to be strong, even when he feels anything but.

You stare at Sukuna for a long moment, his profile sharp against the sudden, vivid colors of the late afternoon sky. He’s staring off into the distance, lost in his own thoughts, while you remain caught in the echo of his story. The sun is sinking now, but neither of you noticed it slipping away—the world outside his words had faded for a while.

You realize you started crying while he was talking. He didn’t want to make you sad. He just wanted you to understand, even a little, to glimpse the pain and the love that shaped him. He’s not asking for sympathy, he’s showing you that everyone carries a past, that every life is a story of loss and survival.

“I’m so sorry, Sukuna,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He didn’t notice until you spoke, but while he told his story, his hand had found yours, his thumb tracing slow, gentle circles over your skin. It’s a quiet comfort, a way to ease the pain as he lets it all out.

“You don’t have to be sorry,” he replies, his voice softer than you’ve ever heard it. “Thanks for listening.”

Silence settles between you again, thick with emotion. Sukuna finally turns to face you, his eyes searching yours. “I’m sorry you had to deal with Yorozu’s bullshit,” he says, regret lacing his words.

You sigh, shaking your head. “And you don’t have to be sorry for her. I’m sorry things never worked out between you.”

He laughs at that, a low, rough sound. “Oh, I’m not. We’re terrible for each other.”

You giggle just a little and nod. “Yeah, I can tell.”

You both turn back to watch the sunset, the sky deepening into twilight. Your fingers are still intertwined, his thumb still tracing those smooth, soothing circles.

“I’m not a bad person—well, I don’t try to be,” Sukuna says suddenly, his voice hesitant.

You frown and turn to him. “And I never said you were.”

“I know, but… I never wanted you to see that side of me. I never wanted anyone to see that side of me. I’m not going to blame it all on Yorozu, because it’s not just her fault. There’s a lot of things I could have done better way before that. It’s hard to admit when I’m wrong or weak.” The strain of his voice was even sent even that was hard to admit.

You give him a small, understanding smile, tilting your head as you meet his gaze. “Listen, I know you’re an asshole—trust me. Some people are just good at pushing buttons and she knew exactly how to push yours. Maybe you could have handled things differently, but let’s just be glad you didn’t do something you’d actually regret.”

He manages a weak smile in return, his eyes glossy with unshed tears. For a long, suspended moment, you simply look at each other, letting the silence and the golden wash of sunset wrap around you like a fragile truce.

“I don’t regret kissing you,” he says suddenly, voice rough but honest. Your eyes widen, caught off guard by his bluntness.

You sit there for a beat, then smirk, trying to act like he doesn’t fluster you. “Well, I would hope not.” A giggle escapes you, but it fades into a gentle sigh. “But you did get sick. I wish I could have taken care of you, the way you did for me.” You pout, inching a little closer, your nerves finally dissolving.

He grins, a spark of mischief returning to his eyes. “Like I said, it was worth it.” He winks, and your heart stutters.

Your gaze drops to his lips, remembering the way they felt—soft, surprisingly sweet. The memory lingers, tempting, but you hold back. Now probably isn’t the best time to kiss him, not right after he’s opened up to you like this.

But then you really think about the kiss. How it made you felt. All of the confusion that has consumed because of it. You need to say something, at least try to talk about.

You huff and lean back, suddenly feeling exposed. “I’ve never really been in an actual relationship before,” you admit quietly, glancing at Sukuna.

He shrugs, just as blunt as ever. “Neither have I.”

You frown, thinking of Yorozu, but he cuts you off before you can say anything. “Nope. Never took her on a real date or anything like that. I’m not counting it.” He huffs, almost defensive.

You roll your eyes, shaking your head with a reluctant smile. “Whatever you say.”

He shifts, his expression softening. “So this is new to both of us—” he starts, but he notices the flicker of panic in your eyes.

It’s only been five months. You’ve loved getting to know him, and you feel so comfortable with him, but the uncertainty gnaws at you. Are you moving too fast? Too slow? You have no idea how any of this is supposed to work. You don’t want to push him away, but you don’t want to cling too tightly either.

Sukuna exhales hard, the sound rough around the edges, like he’s been holding onto something too long. He gives you a smirk, but there’s that softness in his eyes that only you ever get to see. His hand moves, calloused fingers brushing your hair aside before cupping your cheek—his touch is firm, like he’s trying to remind you he’s right here.

“We don’t have to rush anything, baby. I don’t expect you to think we do. And if you decide you don’t want anything more, that’s fine with me. I never really knew what a relationship was supposed to be. I still don’t. But I do know I want to keep being with you—however that looks.”

You lean into his touch, letting the warmth of his hand soothe your frayed nerves. The sincerity in his voice anchors you. His words sink deep. You realize how serious he’s being in this moment

You smile, feeling some of the tension melt away. The uncertainty is still there, but now it feels like something you can face together.

“Let’s just… see where this goes?” you suggest softly.

He grins, eyes brightening. “Yeah. Let’s just see.”

It’s finally dark as you both head toward Sukuna’s bike. He carried you on his back so you wouldn’t have to walk barefoot over the rough ground again. At the bike, he helps you put on your helmet and help slide your heels back onto your feet.

As you settle behind him on the bike, you rest your head against his broad back and close your eyes. The night has turned chillier, and you instinctively press closer, stealing his warmth as he weaves through traffic heading back to the complex.

When you pull up to the apartment complex, Sukuna is quick to help you off the bike—as always. You check your phone and your stomach. You have over thirty messages from Toji.

Oh, fuck. I totally forgot about Toji and the kids.

You scroll through the messages, heart hammering. Toji kept updating you all evening, letting you know he decided to go to your apartment instead of his own—didn’t want to trash his house, and this is what you get for throwing four kids on him out of the blue. The kids were actually pretty good, just happy to see each other, and they all ended up eating instant ramen together.

You and Sukuna walk up the steps, the silence between you comfortable as ever, but there’s still a nervous energy in the air. You’re eager, a little anxious, but mostly relieved you talked things out—there’s understanding between you, and it feels good.

When you open the door, you’re greeted by Toji sprawled out on the couch, passed out, with Megumi curled up on top of his chest. Choso, Yuji, and Nobara are asleep on the floor, surrounded by pillows, blankets, and the remnants of their play session—crayons, toys, and play dough scattered everywhere.

You let out a sigh and smile at the sight. Without a word, Sukuna moves to pick up Choso and Yuji, carrying them with ease across the hall to his apartment and tucking them into bed.

Without even a second thought, you step out into the hallway to say goodnight, your heart fluttering as you wait.

He must have sensed you, because he comes right back out and smiles at you and you smile right back, but the nervousness rises in your chest again.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft with a slight purr. You nod with a small smile, warmth blooming in your chest instead.

He closes the distance between you in one smooth motion, his presence overwhelming yet comforting. With surprising gentleness, Sukuna presses his lips to your temple, the brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. Your eyes widen in surprise for just a moment, but quickly, you find yourself leaning into his touch, craving the tenderness.

“Goodnight,” he whispers against your skin, his gruff tone barely masking the affection beneath.

“Goodnight, Sukuna.”

summary: hey so I sobbed so much writing this. I had to pause several times. I was up until 4 AM editing this and making sure it was sad. so you’re welcome. BUT HEY WE ARE GETTING SOMEWHERE WITH THESE LOVEBIRDS!

in other news, I am currently incredibly hyper fixated on the throne of glass series and have read four books in less than a week. so please bear with me on the next chapter, I will try to get it out soon as possible. I am using my free time as much as I can.

as always, please let me know how you feel about this chapter. this has been one of my favorite chapter so far. I hope you all are having an incredible week and have a great weekend. I love you guys♥️♥️

taglist is open: please comment and let me know if you want to be on it!! (:

@sukubusss @megumuro @puran-poli @emochosoluvr @poopooindamouf @tojiswifeforlife @bookfreakk

@withtanxp @fava-boi @not-aya @saltypuffin1040 @777pluto @bluemochii @jkslvsnella

@zeppelid @miakxn @iseeyouuu @storiesbyparadise @flowerpot113 @kunasthiast @mullermilkshake @nessca153

@bestwomanalive @bunbun444 @yourfalletedfish @drymayonnaise @shartnart1 @odysseusmom @your-mum3000 @caught-the-feels @jamangos @book0fdr3ams

@hoohoohope @satorrruuu @canary58143 @antikaiii @tsumoorin @ureuphoriasworld @dyavorange

@passiefruit @bub-ss

#icymi <3

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