Sukuna had always been a challenge. Cold, sarcastic, and intimidating, he rarely showed his softer side. Yet, despite his rough edges, you knew he cared—deep down. After all, he was your husband, and you were carrying his child. Lately, the pregnancy had made everything a little harder, and though Sukuna wasn’t exactly the nurturing type, he had his moments.

Today, you just wanted a simple bowl of cereal. Nothing extravagant, just a craving for Cheerios. But, of course, reaching the box was more complicated than it should have been. The shelf it sat on suddenly seemed much higher than you remembered. You sighed, eyeing the box like it was mocking you from its perch. Determined not to ask Sukuna for help—you didn’t want to be a bother—you grabbed the small step stool tucked away in the corner.

As you struggled to balance, teetering on your toes, you were completely unaware of Sukuna, standing in the doorway, arms crossed, silently watching the whole scene unfold. His lips curled into an amused smirk, his sharp eyes gleaming with that all-too-familiar sadistic enjoyment. He made no sound, no move to help, just stood there, entertained by your futile efforts.

Minutes passed. You stretched, reached, and huffed in frustration. Finally, after what felt like an eternity of observing you squirm, Sukuna decided it was time to intervene. Without a word, he crossed the kitchen in a swift movement and, before you even realised what was happening, his large hands gently lifted you off the stool. Startled, you struggled as he set you down and, in one effortless motion, plucked the cereal box from the shelf.

You reached for it, grateful and a little confused by his silent approach, only to watch as he raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening, and placed the box on an even higher shelf—completely out of reach now. What an evil bastard.

He just chuckled, that deep, infuriatingly arrogant laugh of his, clearly enjoying himself. "You wanted help, didn’t you?" he grinned. He loved seeing you struggle like this.