Satoru Doesn't Do Well With The Idea Of Leaving You. Never Has. Probably Never Will.

Deceiving Dreams

(Toji and His Shy Girl)

Toji woke up sweating, a foul feeling in his chest after what he just dreamt. You were the star and your co-star was not him, but some random dude who was way too comfortable with touching you. His hands would brush over your shoulders and your thighs like he was familiar with your body, but what was absolutely stomach churning, was the way he kissed you softly and slowly. You didn't even push him away, instead you reciprocated the gesture. You did the sweet things that you only do with him, like smiling at this man in that way that makes wonder brim your eyes. You kissed the corner of this stranger's lips, on the same side that Toji's scar is on, coincidentally, and you wrapped your arms around this stranger with that same amount of hesitance you show Toji, as if this person you've known for mere minutes summed up the butterflies and electric feelings your lover makes you feel in that short span of time.

Toji hasn't been this unsettled by something regarding you since the time you cried during an argument that spiraled out of his jealousy. Things got out of hand, but since then, he's learned that he can't do things that way with you. He can't shut you out, and he can't snap at you or you will crumble to the ground.

Patience is a hard thing to learn, and though being with you has taught Toji how to be more careful with his words and to be understanding of your struggles to communicate certain things, at the end of the day, he's still learning. How does anyone deal with this kind of thing in a gentle and unassuming manner? He can't just spring such a question on you without it rubbing you wrong. "Are you cheating on me?" No. That is a recipe for disaster and just asking for unwanted distance. You wouldn't do that to him. He knows it, but that dream... It just seemed so real.

Hey, ma. You awake?

It's two in the morning, and you probably won't answer, but as Toji lies there in his bed, waiting for a response from you, he realizes he can't wait to hear from you, so he does the next best thing—he calls you.

The line rings a couple times, and by the third time, he's ready to end the call before he gets sent to voicemail, deeming his reason for pulling you out of sleep so early in the morning to be ridiculous. It was a dream. You're not cheating on him. You wouldn't do that to him. He knows this, yet, here he is, trying to sleep in your bed with you, like a child who woke up from a nightmare, tiptoeing over to their parents' bedroom.

"Hi, Toji," you answer, your voice quiet and slightly raspy with sleep. "Toji?" You call, again, when you get nothing from him. "Are you okay?"

He feels somewhat embarrassed for having woken you up for this, but if the deed has already been done, then he needs to make the most of it.

"Hey, sweetheart. I'm doing just fine. Everything's fine. Listen, would it be alright if I came over?" He asks, already sitting up and getting out of bed.

"It's a little late, isn't it? It's..." you hum as you quickly check your phone, "...two seventeen," you respond, trying your hardest not to nod off as you lie comfortably on your side, your phone placed between your ear and your pillow, again.

"I know. I'm sorry. You don't have to wait up for me, though. I can let myself in. You gave me your spare, remember?"

You blink, tiredly, and remain silent for a few seconds until Toji calls for you. "Yeah, okay, then. Drive safe. It's raining really hard."

"Will do, mama. I'll see you soon. Love you."

"Love you," you mumble, before hanging up the phone. You went right back to sleep, afterwards. The sound of the rain pouring outside was soothing and the coldness that came with the weather made the perfect contrast to the warmth of the blanket you bundled yourself in.

Toji got to your place twenty-something minutes later. His hoodie was heavily spotted with the raindrops it caught during the walk to your front door from his car. He fishes out his keys from his pocket and looks for a shiny, bronze key on his keyring. Once he has it, getting into your warm home goes smoothly. From taking off his shoes and setting them beside yours, to removing his hoodie so that the wetness doesn't touch you, he moves quickly. He doesn't stray from his path to finding you, not even to grab a snack from your kitchen cabinets like he normally does, no matter the time—he just goes straight to your room.

When he opens the door, Toji is met with nothing more than the adorable sight of you curled up in bed, like a puppy sleeping peacefully under a heap of toasty blankets. He shuts the door behind him, quietly, and moves swiftly, but carefully, so that he doesn't wake you up before he even starts crawling into bed with you. He gently lifts the blanket off the vacant side of your bed, and slides into his place beside you. Instantly greeted by the warmth you generated, he feels the urge to pull you into his arms and just hold you all night.

"Sorry, baby. I know i'm cold," he says, softly, when you stir at the iciness of his fingers dragging up and down the side of your neck.

You blink your heavy eyes open and take in the sight of Toji right in front of you. Him calling you wasn't part of a hyper realistic dream, he's actually in bed with you.

"What's wrong?" You ask, concerned for his reason for wanting to be there in the early hours of the morning, rather than just waiting until later on in the day. You had plans to meet, anyway. What is so important that he couldn't wait until then?

"It's nothing to worry about. Just wanted to be here with you," he responds, not totally lying, but also not telling the whole truth.

"Remember what I told you when we first met?" You mumble, not satisfied with the vagueness of his response. There seems to be more that he isn't telling you.

"You said a lot of things to me that day," he responds, with a low chuckle.

"I did," you agree, smiling softly at the memory. "I also told you something important that day, didn't I?"

You watch the contemplative expression on his face, the outward appearance of his brain whirring. It's cute, even in his handsomeness. "Do you want a hint?" You ask, though when you see his eyes widen a little, you know he won't need it.

"You're better at listening than you are at talking," he recites, with a smirk, like he's patting himself on the back for being able to remember.

"Right. So, if there's something wrong, I want to know about it. I know i'm not the best conversationalist, but you know that I always try for you."

Now that you're more awake, Toji doesn't feel so heartless for handling you like you're merely a teddy bear, so that you're lying on top of him. He wants you close to him all the time, but when you say things like that, he instantly feels the need to bring you closer. It's pure instinct by now.

"You ever get tired of me just scooping you up out of nowhere?" He asks, lips curled in amusement as he watches and feels you wiggling around, trying to make yourself comfortable. Finally, you rest your head on the upper part of his chest and let your arms go limp beside him.

"Never," you respond, simply, smiling when a low chuckle rumbles out of Toji's chest.

His arms tighten around you a little more when the room goes silent, and then he remembers why he's here. He can't lose this. Your warmth, your careful affection, the way you constantly look at him like he's the reason the moon and the stars shine at night. He never wants you to look at him another way. There's absolutely nothing hard about loving you, and if you can't believe it on your own, he'll prove it to you.

"You know how much I love you, don't you, doll?" He asks, his palms finally warm enough to work as heating pads for your back.

"I do," you assure. Maybe this is his concern—that he's not showing you enough love. No, that can't be it. If that was it, he would've waited until later on in the day to see you and talk about it.

"And how much I need you? Do you know that, too?" To that, he doesn't get a response from you. He knows you aren't sleeping, because he can feel your legs shifting against his every once in a while.

"Doll?" He calls.

You let out a soft breath, before responding with your truth.

"I don't know if you need me, Toji. When you tell me you love me, I believe it, because I feel it and I know it, but I don't think you need me."

"Don't..." he sighs, not expecting this as a response from you. "...don't say that. Don't you dare say that. What does that even mean? Because I don't fucking get it. I really don't, ma."

Your heart rate picks up a little, but you try to keep yourself as calm as possible. You understand that this isn't something he wants to hear, as the one who's helped you through so much, but you can't help but share how things feel on your end.

"Don't you ever think about how much better it would be for you to love someone who makes things easier on you rather than overcomplicating them? Someone who tells you what they want straight up, instead of having you basically pry the words from them?"

Toji stays quiet this time, not because he agrees, but because he's figuring out how to say things without it being explosive. He knows that those few seconds of relief will be followed up by a tidal wave of regret. It's not worth it. You're his little sunshine and he would never forgive himself if he was the reason for why your light died out.

"I love you, Toji, but I think about that a lot. I want you to know that if you ever get tired of me-"

"Don't finish that sentence," he cuts. "I don't wanna hear it."

There's no playfulness or warmth to his tone. Nothing but the weight of his words. Your heart feels a little heavier, but you brush it off and utter a phrase that you're all too familiar with.

"Sorry."

You feel nervous, and not in the "good" way. Not in the way that makes your cheeks heat up and your stomach swarm with butterflies, but instead the way that makes your chest feel strange, and like there's a knot forming in your throat.

"I don't wanna hear that either, doll," Toji says in response, his tone softer, now, his thoughts collected. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have talked to you like that. You know I love you." He presses a kiss to the top of your head and rubs the center of your back in soothing motions. The silence that returns makes your heart beat even faster. You wonder if Toji can hear it through the lack of sound in the room.

"I had a really stupid dream," Toji finally confesses, a low, humorless chuckle vibrating against his chest. "I mean, really stupid. Can I tell you about it?"

"You don't have to ask, baby," you respond. Your cheeks go warm at your use of the pet name, but it felt right in the moment. Maybe this is what's been lodged in his mind this whole time. You want him to feel as comfortable as possible as he recounts it to you.

Toji smiles softly at the term of endearment you used for him. Somehow, the way you said the word made it sound softer and even more cushioned than it already is.

His arms readjust around you, tightening the perfect amount so that you're secure against him and he can feel more of your body's warmth on his. He peppers a few more kisses on the top of your head before going on to tell you about his dream.

"So, I kind of just spawned into a room where you and some random guy were sitting on a bench, and he was getting really touchy with you. His hands were rubbing your thighs and your shoulders and..." He pauses. This is his least favorite part. He didn't like any part of it, but this part took the cake, because no one kisses your lips but him.

"It's okay," you say, encouragingly. You rub his side a few times and endure a squeeze of his arms—the equivalence of a rush of emotional support in a gesture.

"Well, you and him started locking lips, and it looked like you were really enjoying it. Your eyes were sparkly and you were smiling at him all pretty." He sighs, bothered anew, the same way he was when he first woke up. "See, I told you it was stupid," he grumbles, mildly embarrassed. "Obviously not stupid enough for me to sleep in my own bed for the night. It's fucking ridiculous. Sorry, doll."

You utter another phrase you're all too familiar with—not one you say often, but one you hear from Toji plenty.

"Don't apologize," you murmur. A few seconds pass, and you know just what to say. "Toji?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

You say it like it's as easy as breathing, because it is. There's nothing hard about loving Toji. He's good to you. It's a love you've never experienced with another, and you do your damn best for him, which is why him showing up at two a.m. isn't a problem. Him crawling into your bed, and reaching for you with hands that are cold as ice isn't a problem. He needs comfort this time, and all you can do is hope that the way you console him is enough.

"Only you, and that's how it'll always be. Your brain thought it would be funny to trick you, but it grayed on the fact that I suck at talking to people."

That made him snicker. It wasn't a reaction meant to ridicule you, rather one of immediate relief, due to the confirmation you gave him about his place as your only love.

"Not that i'm interested in pursuing others, but how am I gonna go for someone else, when I can barely talk to you?"

Now that made him full on chuckle, and you just lay there on him, withstanding the crushing sensation of his arms squeezing you impossibly tighter. You fear he might break you, but you would endure that momentary loss of breath any day if it means his heart remains whole.

"God, I love you so damn much," he murmurs, low against the top of your head. "I love you," he says, pressing yet another affectionate kiss to the area. "And I need you. I want you to understand that by... now. I need you to understand it, right now, baby."

"I don't think that's how it works," you say, humming out a soft laugh.

"Well, we're gonna make it work. Alright? You're gonna understand how much I need you."

"Okay," you say, resigned to his perseverance.

"Okay?" He repeats.

"Yeah," you confirm, lips curling, amusedly.

"Yeah?" He copies once more, knowing it'll grant him one of his favorite little sounds from you.

You giggle. "Yes, Toji."

With that, he's flipping you over, his position expressively dominant, now. It's dark in your room, so you can't really see much, but you can make out most of his handsome features, and you can feel his body heat embracing you, just as much as it did a few seconds ago. His hands are planted right beside your head and he's peering down at you, smirking at the way you look at him, like you haven't caught up with how he handled you so delicately yet efficiently to switch positions.

"You always look so pretty under me," he murmurs, leaning in closer. You in so that you see nothing but him. His hands ball up the sheets beneath them, carelessly wrinkling them as he remains merely inches above you. You slowly release the breath you've been holding in. "You mad at me, baby?"

"No," you answer, trying to remain calm, despite the heat that is beginning to seep into your face. "You've done nothing for me to be mad about, so why would I be mad at you?"

His lips press against the lower part of your cheek—a deep kiss right above your jaw. "'Cause i'm kinda dumb and do shit like this. I woke you up, and now you're losing sleep," he murmurs, against your skin.

"It's okay, Toji," you gently reassure. "I understand and I'm not mad at you." Your hands come up to his back, tentatively, feeling the body warmth that seeps through his shirt.

"No?" He asks, pressing a soft kiss closer to the corner of your lips. "You promise?"

As if trying to further comfort the giant hovering over you, you rub his back in gentle motions.

"There's nothing to be mad about. You've done nothing wrong and you're always welcome here, love." You smile when he continues planting little kisses on your cheek while you keep talking. "You have my spare key, because I trust you and I have nothing to hide from you. If giving you that key means you show up here in the early hours of the morning, because you don't want to be alone, that's okay, too. So, yes, I promise i'm not mad."

A low hum comes from Toji as his kisses inch towards your lips. A few land on the corner of your lips, then he's just a little bit off, and then finally, his lips center on yours. You feel butterflies begin to flutter around your stomach as he collects kiss after kiss from you.

"You tired, pretty baby?" He asks, his voice only audible between you and him. Not even the thin walls of your room can take away the intimacy.

"I wanna be awake with you," you respond, your voice matching the low volume of his.

"You sure?" He asks, and you do your best to convince him that you are. Your hands pull away from where they once rested on his back and you raise them to cup his cheeks with slightly shaky hands. Your touch is gentle, maybe even a little hesitant, as you begin to slowly stroke the softness of his skin. This is one of the very rare times when Toji accepts your actions in place of your words.

Your thumb brushes over the scar on his lips, and before you can even process it, his lips are on yours, again. You can feel the flourishing warmth of his face beneath your palms as he kisses you with an unexpected amount of fervor. You hear soft panting from him, as a result of him hungrily chasing kiss after kiss from you. He challenges your lungs, letting them feel a slight burn when he doesn't pull away after you've reached your limit. It's not until you're breathing heavily that he lets you go, and begins to scatter soft kisses along the side of your neck.

"Baby," he hums against your neck, leaving another kiss behind. "My sweet, pretty baby. How do you do it?"

"Do what?" You ask, smiling as he continues to let his lips feed off the warmth and softness of your skin.

"How do always manage to keep things so peaceful?" He responds. His heart beats slightly faster when you release a precious laugh at the question. "Things are just... so damn simple with you," he says, softly, as he goes lower down your body. His hands grab the hem of your shirt and begin to slowly roll it above your stomach. He instantly takes note of the goosebumps that rise when his palms graze your bare skin.

"I know how much you try for me, and fuck, i'm not dismissing your effort, but I also want you to understand that it's not hard to treat you right." His hands grip your waist, loosely, and he leans in to place a kiss on your stomach.

"There's nothing hard about being with you..." he murmurs beneath your ribs, "...and waiting for you. You aren't difficult like you think you are, sweet girl."

"You promise, Toji?" You ask, glancing down at him as he continues leaving kisses on your skin.

"I promise," he assures, meeting your gaze as he presses another kiss right beneath your chest. "You want me to stop?" He asks, aware of the lack of coverage for your chest under your shirt.

"You can keep going," you respond, willing yourself to relax under his touch. He doesn't waste any time, and immediately buries his face in your bare chest. For a moment, there's no major movement coming from him, just his breathing. You think maybe he's just savoring the warmth that you've accumulated after spending hours under your blanket, but he full on melts into your body. His arms go beneath you, allowing him to wrap around you tightly once more, and he releases an audibly heavy sigh.

"It's okay," you say, softly. You keep one hand on his upper back, while the other gently plays with his hair.

He's not sure if he deserves the tenderness your touch holds for him. He tries to be as gentle and careful with you as he can, but he's so scared that one day you'll shatter and it'll be his fault. You'll walk away from him with no intention of ever coming back and something that was so good to him will be gone. You deserve to be happy—always. He knows this, but he doesn't want to picture somebody else making you happy like he does. He can't accept that. You're his girl.

"Toji?" You call. You know your little place isn't the most high end of them all, but you also know that it's not falling apart. There's no way for the rain to reach your skin if there's no hole in your roof.

"Toji?" You call once more when he doesn't answer. Your hands still on him when you feel his shoulders stutter. You have your own glum cloud resting on top of you. You feel something wet land on your chest—it's starting to rain a little.

"It's okay," you whisper, resuming the gentle motions on his back and the back of his head. "It's okay." You feel him begin to leave languid, spaced out, featherlight kisses on your chest, and you want to freeze. You want to express how impactful the gestures are, and how they animate the butterflies that reside in your stomach, but you can't. You can't and you won't do it, because it's your turn to prove that you'll take care of him when he's not at one hundred percent.

"It's... it's gonna be okay. I have you," you assure, feeling the softness of his hair between your fingers as you repeatedly thread them through, and the movement of his back beneath your other hand as he breathes. "And you will always have me, and I love you with all my heart, Toji. I need you to understand that, right now," you tease, lightheartedly, echoing his earlier words back to him in an attempt to make him feel better. You hear a congested sound, something between a laugh and a hitch in his breathing.

Not another sound is made for the next few minutes, no words spoken. Your skin catches a few more of Toji's tears as he continues to brush his lips against the entirety of your chest, reveling in the warmth of your skin. Toji can hear your heart beating rapidly in your chest—the way it always is whenever he's around you. Normally, he teases you about it. 'Your heart's gonna explode if you don't calm down.' 'We don't even have to do cardio to get your heart going.' Sometimes, he just holds his fingers against the pulse point on your neck and laughs at the rapid thrumming against his fingertips. He finds it endearing, but right now, it's a comfort.

You don't mind the occasional slight pinch of his lips—the more physical proof of his appreciative affection. You simply remain focused on soothing him and reassuring him of how strong your love for him is and will always be.

"Don't know what I'd do without you, ma," he mumbles, his cheek resting on your chest. He could fall asleep so easily to the sound of your heartbeat in his ears, the feeling of you playing with his hair, and the way you slowly rub his back, but he's torn between staying where he is and coming back up to hold you close through the rest of the early morning.

"I promise I'm not going anywhere," you assure, wholeheartedly.

With that response, Toji makes his choice. He pulls his arms out from beneath you and sits on his knees, between your legs for the quick second it takes him to fix your shirt. After, he lifts the blanket and reclaims his rightful spot beside you.

"Come here," he murmurs, pulling you into his arms without an ounce of struggle. He waits for you to settle, back against his chest, before fully enveloping you in his warm embrace.

"It sounds like pebbles hitting the roof instead of raindrops."

"Mhm," he hums, into your neck, letting his hand slide beneath the front of your shirt to caress the soft skin of your abdomen. "If your roof starts leaking, you're coming to stay with me." It's not a question or an offer.

You laugh. "The rain isn't that bad."

"Mm..." His lips home to your shoulder, a gentle peck placed on the concealed area. "Love seeing your pretty face first thing in the morning. You stay with me if your ceiling ever caves. Okay? Okay."

"Okay," you respond, through a giggle. "You'll be my first call."

"Good," he murmurs.

"I'll make you breakfast later, when we wake up."

And though Toji responds with, "Sounds good, ma," all he can think about is how you're going to struggle so hard to get out of bed because he's going to make it nearly impossible for you to do so. The gears are already turning in his head. He'll pin you down, he'll strengthen his hold around you, he'll roll on top of you "in his sleep". You're too polite for your own good, you most likely won't try to wake him up. He'll swaddle you in the blanket, he'll tie your shirts together in a tight knot-

"Goodnight, Toji," you mumble, feeling your tiredness return as he continues drawing little lines and shapes on your stomach.

"'Night, baby," he murmurs, feeling much more content and at peace with the idea of sleeping knowing that you're in his arms, not in anyone else's.

ur rides here

 𝝑𝑒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. the ryomen sukuna has never in his thousand years of living apologised to any living being. so why does he feel the need to make it up to you after (unintentionally) hurting you?

tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!female reader. fluff, angst (hurt to comfort), suggestive. sukuna is an asshole but also not i guess. reader gets called ‘brat, woman’. not proofread. wc: 1.8k

sukuna has never felt the need to apologize. he’s never in the wrong if you ask him. apologising to someone he deems ‘lesser’ would be a sign of weakness.

yet the king of curses always has this secret need to make his favorite concubine feel better after (unintentionally) hurting her. you’ve got this hold on him that he will never acknowledge. although there are moments where he will indirectly show you that he regrets upsetting you.

it’s a quiet saturday evening and you’re relaxing in your bedchambers after eating your dinner. you didn’t go to the dining hall to eat with sukuna and the others. no, you made sure your head lady-in-waiting brought your food to your room.

sukuna and you got into a ‘little’ argument yesterday. you both spent the entire day and night alone instead of in each other’s presence, which is the norm. even the people around you have noticed the growing tension whenever sukuna and you would cross paths.

of course, the other concubines seized the opporunity to vie for sukuna’s attention now that his favored little concubine was no longer by his side. yet, their efforts proved in vain. sukuna had grown more irritable over the past twenty-four hours, his mind relentlessly preoccupied with thoughts of you—a fact that only frustrated him further. you weren't in the mood to speak with him again, so why did that bother him so much? It should have made him scoff, made him see you as weak and driven him to demand that you speak to him once more.

but all the king of curses can think about is how to get you to cling to him once more. as much as he says that it’s exhausting to have a needy 'brat' at his side all the time, your abscence makes him realise he secretly enjoys having you around.

snapping back into your own thoughts, you realise you’ve been staring at your cup of tea for the longest time. you sigh and get up from the table, your feet dragging over the tatami flooring. however a sudden knock on your doors causes you to stop in your tracks.

“come in,” you murmur, thinking it is one of your ladies-in-waiting with your dessert. but the silence that follows afterwards is nearly ominous.

you frown and sigh before going over to the shoji. you slide the screens aside, only to be met by a wall of muscles you know way too well. you tilt your head back and your eyes widen slightly at the sight of the one man you stubbornly refused to talk to.

sukuna looms over you, his massive frame dwarfing your smaller one. he invites himself inside, not waiting on a response from you. he steps into your room and turns around to face you. his dark red eyes narrow as he tries to decipher the emotions playing on your face.

you don’t say a thing. you don’t look at him. you don’t smile at him. you don’t move a muscle. no acknowledgment at all. sukuna hates it—it’s unusual for you to be so cold. your eyes dart to the floor and your bottom lip subtly forms a defiant pout.

sukuna scoffs. he’s made the decision to break the silence between you two first, coming all the way to your bedchambers to talk. he would never have done such a thing for anyone else—would have waited for them to grovel before him and beg for his forgiveness. and yet here he is, standing in front of his concubine, ready to confront the issues between them.

he feels pathetic and it angers him from within. he desires to command you to get on your knees and apologise to him, to obey him and forget what happened. however an annoying voice in the back of his head tells him to be patient with you.

“tch, what’s with the face?” sukuna's deep and commanding voice fills the spacious room. he doesn't go about it the gentle way—he’s still him after all. “y’re still sulking about that little thing? i thought i told ya to stop thinkin’ about it.”

hearing sukuna say the latter makes your heart ache and your eyes water from frustration. everything seems like it’s not a big deal to him—even when you’re clearly upset.

“that was not just a little thing, my lord!” you raise your voice just a little, surprising yourself as the words tumble out of your mouth before you can stop them. you swallow thickly and bite your lip. you've done it now, the thought echoes inside your head.

sukuna’s eyebrows raise in surprise at your outburst, not used to you raising your voice to him like that. although in an instant, his eyes flash with something dangerous. you may be his favorite and he may let you get away with a lot of things, yet there are boundaries. rules that even you must obey.

the king of curses would probably find it amusing to see you snap back at him, thinking you will achieve something with that, but today is not one of those days. the shimmering tension between you two has lead to him being more agitated than ever.

sukuna closes the distance between you two and reaches out to grab you by our jaw. his fingers curl tightly beneath your chin and force your head to turn, making you face him.

“you dare raise your voice at me, woman?” sukuna growls, his face mere inches from yours. his grip borders on painful and you wince at the ache in your jaw. he doesn’t let go and instead tightens his hold, “i don't have time for this fuckin' nonsense.”

sukuna releases you with a light shove. he takes a deep breath to try and calm down, to remind himself that he came her to clear things up. but it’s difficult because he’s never had to do this before. never had to listen to someone else, always expecting them to simply endure and move on whenever he caused harm.

you stumble a bit, rubbing at the your chin. you don’t get it; is sukuna here to make it worse for you? to rub it in? to remind you again of what he said to upset you? to make fun of you for being upset about it?

it certainly does hurt. you replay that moment again in your head. the moment when sukuna told you he could replace you with someone else whenever he desires. it is a fact. sukuna can do that whenever he pleases. but it stung to hear him say it so explicitly. to hear him say it to your face, as if that doesn't already keep you awake at night.

little did you know, sukuna didn’t mean to hurt you too much with that comment. he didn’t expect you to ignore him, to avoid him, all because of what he said. he simply said it because he was struggling with his own emotions—denying that he feels anything for you. he said it to remind himself that he isn’t getting attached to a human.

but that failed terribly. seeing you like this—your teary eyes glaring up at him with fear, hurt and betrayal made him feel an uncomfortable pang in his chest. something that resembled guilt.

“have a good night then, my lord,” you dismiss sukuna and turn away, your voice strained with emotion. you don’t want to start another argument with him.

the king of curses grits his teeth. there it goes again. ‘my lord’ — yes, it’s what most others call him, but not you. you always called him by nicknames he deemed foolish. ‘kuna, ryo or even dear. he strangely longs to hear your voice call him as such again.

sukuna stands there, trying to reign in his anger and other overwhelming emotions. he grabs your wrist and tugs you back to him, making you stumble and catch yourself against his chiseled chest.

he doesn’t know what to say—doesn’t trust himself to speak. he knows he’ll make it worse by speaking, knows he’ll rile you up even more. thus he chooses not to utter a word for a moment.

your eyes meet and you’re surprised when sukuna leans down to catch your lips in a kiss. your hands fist into the collar of his kimono, your mind telling you to back off. this man is dangerous—playing with your emotions like this.

telling you one thing, but contradicting himself with his actions. it’s extremely confusing yet also exhilarating.

you close your eyes and respond to his kiss with equal fervor. the pink-haired man groans against your lips, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip before biting on it. a habit of his.

sukuna’s large hands roam over your body as he presses you as close to him as possible. it’s like he’s reassuring you with his touch—melting away all your worries. it’s a manipulative tactic that somehow always gets you. or perhaps it’s just his way of apologising.

which of the two it is, will always be vague and unknown.

eventually, he pulls away, leaving you both breathless. you stare up at him with a huff before glancing the other way. you’re still sulking, still pouting.

sukuna rolls his eyes and easily lifts your body up into his arms. two of his hands settle on the back of your thighs, the other two grazing the side of your breast and waist. he carries you over to your bed and sits on the edge with you on his lap.

“y’re a fool,” sukuna clicks his tongue. his fingers slither up the exposed skin of your arm and against your cheek to flick your forehead. he gains a whimper from you which urges him to do it again.

you frown and rub at the tingly skin on your head. your eyes are still watery, lashes clumped together due to your tears. it’s almost cute. almost. “and you look pathetic,” the man in front of you adds with a condescending smirk.

you weakly smack sukuna’s chest, making his grin widen. there you go—there is the woman he knows, slowly making a comeback. slowly warming up to him again. slowly being playful with him once more.

sukuna sighs. to you, it may seem like a tired sigh, but in reality it’s a sigh of relief. he may not have solved this issue between you two in a normal, healthy way, but it worked out anyway.

“you’re mean,” your comment breaks the moment of silence. your bottom lip trembles and you look like you might just cry it all out. the frustration, the fear, the hurt, the relief—it’s overwhelming.

sukuna inhales briefly. he doesn’t respond to your little remark, instead, he holds the back of your head and presses your face into his chest. he holds your body against him, nestled warmly between his muscular arms.

you don’t protest at all. you close your eyes and breathe in his familiar scent, nuzzling your nose into his pecs. you know this is his way of making you feel betted so you will not complain.

an apology will never leave the prideful man's lips and you’ve come to accept it. this way of reassuring you counts as something at the very least.

it doesn’t matter who or what gets between you two, at the end of the day, you’ll find each other again. one way or another.

and that's all you need.

NEED to see gojo and toji with a good girl. maybe you can do how they react to having the opposite. only if you want 😋

┌─ .✦ WITH THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT THEY PREFER part one

characters. multi jjk.

authors note. I too wanted to see gojo with a good girl. so here you go angel face! also i couldn’t come up with a better word than ‘prefer’ 😭 BUT WHATEVER YOU ARE!! THEY PREFER YOU

✦ — gojo satoru, with a good girl.

at first, he’s amused. like really? no fight? no attitude? but once he sees how sincerely you want to please him, something inside him shifts—gets more gooey and slow. he likes corrupting you. his praise is so filthy it’s practically degrading. whispers sweet things after he break you. in the end though he’s the love drunk one. “fuck—you’re really letting me do whatever I want… you’re dangerous, baby.”

✦ — geto suguru, with a brat.

he laughs when you act out. he likes watching you throw a tantrum. he breaks you down with patience by using rope and eye contact. keeps you restrained and aching until you beg him to take control again. he’s not mad. he’s disappointed—and that’s worse. “are you done embarrassing yourself, or do you need help remembering your place?”

✦ — naoya zenin, with a brat.

he’s pissed. his ego demands respect and you decide to challenge him? he snaps. he doesn’t get flustered though—he gets mean. “you think mouthing off makes you strong? pathetic.” grabs your jaw, fucks you face-down ass up, makes you cry for being disrespectful. every bratty act gets met with punishment until you learn to bow. he won’t stop until you’re trembling and whimpering his name.

✦ — toji fushiguro, with a good girl.

your obedience catches him off guard. but once you obey without question? he gets mean in the most delicious way. he tests just how far your obedience goes by fucking you like he hates you. imagine his surprise when he sees his good girl taking the rough pounding like it’s love. “tch. so fuckin’ obedient… bet you’d let me ruin you and still thank me.”

✦ — nanami kento, with a brat.

visibly annoyed. the glasses come off and the sleeves roll up. but deep down? he enjoys putting you back in place by edging you for hours so he gives you rules he knows you’ll break. he’s known for being calm and clinical, but underneath that? he’s filthy. you don’t act out for a while after he’s done. “I suggest you get it out of your system now.”

✦ — sukuna ryomen, with a good girl.

he thinks it’s boring—until he realizes how much power he has. a girl who worships him? you become his entirely. calls you his little worshipper. makes you beg for his cruelty—and calls it love. “you’d kneel for me without even being told? fuck. I could do anything to you.”

✦ — choso kamo, with a good girl.

he’s… stunned. like emotionally overwhelmed. this soft, obedient energy? he doesn’t know what to do with it. he gets so gentle with you and your body but later? he starts testing—just a little roughness, a little teasing—trying to see if you’ll still be good. and when you are? he falls harder. calls you his girl in the softest voice you’ve ever heard. “you… trust me? just like that?”

This long-distance relationship just wasn’t working for Sukuna anymore.

He can’t see you. Can’t touch you. Can’t put you in a headlock, smack your ass, bite you, or flick your forehead. At this point, are you two even together, or is this just an overpriced pen-pal situation?

He calls you clingy, but let’s be real—anyone with half a brain cell and a functioning set of eyes can see that he’s the real problem here. And the worst part? He knows exactly what he’s doing. He just doesn’t care. He does not want to be saved.

This man is glued to his phone every single minute, refreshing your messages like his life depends on it. And if you don’t answer fast enough? He turns into a grumpy, overgrown toddler, making everyone around him suffer.

At this point, it’s not just him begging you to visit—it’s his friends, his brother, maybe even some strangers off the street. They’re exhausted. They have had enough. Somebody, please, for the love of all things holy, put this man out of his misery and just go see him before they all lose their minds.

After two months, you finally decided to just surprise Sukuna. It was early in the morning, and you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming. Not even his friends— they would’ve blown your cover out of sheer relief. You missed him too, sure… just not as much as he missed you.

You let yourself in with your key, slipping inside like a thief in the night (except this was your man and your house, so..?). He was still asleep, sprawled out on the bed in nothing but black boxers and a tight black T-shirt that was clinging to him a little too well.

And this? This right here is where you questioned everything.

How did you pull this man? Seriously. What divine force was on your side that day? He looked so damn good, it was criminal. His tattoos. The way that shirt stretched over his muscles. The black boxers. The absolute mess that was his pink hair. It was all too much.

You wanted to jump his bones on sight, but you contained yourself. Barely.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, you gently rub his back, whispering softly, "Sukuna… baby, wake up." He doesn’t move a muscle. When he’s asleep, he’s as still as stone, completely unreachable—unless, of course, the air shifts in the room just right. Then, he’s up in an instant, sharp and alert, like a predator on the prowl. But right now? Nothing. Not a twitch.

You try again, your voice softer this time, "Love... baby... Suku... wake up... mm, I'm here..."

At the sound of your voice, he stirs. A low grunt escapes his throat, and his eyes flutter open, but the confusion on his face is enough to make your heart melt. He blinks, disoriented, as if trying to process what’s real. And in that moment, you can’t help but smile. He’s so adorable, even in his most groggy, unguarded state.

The fact that you—just you—can see him like this, can call him any type of names and still think he's the cutest thing alive, fills you with a warmth you didn’t know you needed.

He groggily shifts, trying to register what’s going on. But when his eyes finally meet yours, that familiar spark of recognition flickers in them. It’s like everything else fades away.

“Y/N?”

His voice is always deep, but in the morning, it’s something else entirely—low and rough, the kind that you can feel vibrating in your chest.

“Did you miss me?” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips.

For a good thirty seconds, he just stares at you, blinking slowly, his red eyes still heavy with sleep. And then—without a word—he grabs you, pulling you down onto the bed with him.

The hug alone could’ve crushed you. His arms lock around you like a vice, his grip unrelenting, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. His face remains serious, unreadable—but inside? Oh, inside, he’s jumping up and down like a kid on Christmas morning.

He is this close to giggling, to kicking his legs like a teenage girl with a hopeless crush.

But he won’t. Absolutely not.

Instead, he just holds you tighter, burying his face in your neck, pretending like he’s not about to combust from how happy he is.

You can feel the way his breathing evens out against your skin, like he’s grounding himself with your presence. His nose brushes along your neck, slow and almost lazy, but there's a little tremble in the way he exhales, like he still can’t believe you're actually here.

“I thought I was dreaming,” he mutters, voice muffled into your shoulder.

You run your fingers through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp the way he likes. “You always say that when I show up.”

“Because I never think I deserve it,” he says, so quietly you almost miss it.

Your heart clenches.

You pull back just enough to look at him. His eyes are still heavy-lidded, lashes fanning over flushed cheeks, but there's something softer in them now—something he only shows you.

“You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You’ve been acting like a feral cat in a thunderstorm for two months straight. I was afraid your friends were gonna start sending me ransom letters.”

That earns the tiniest twitch of a smile. Barely there. But you caught it.

“I wasn’t that bad,” he grumbles.

“Oh, you were worse,” you laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Suddenly, he pulled back—and in one swift motion, yanked his shirt off and tossed it somewhere across the room.

You blinked. “Excuse me?”

He smirked like the devil himself. “Now that you’re here,” he said, voice dropping, “let’s get down to business, woman.”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “Business? I just got here.”

“And I’ve been waiting months,” he said, already reaching for you again. “You think I’ve been sitting here practicing patience and self-control? No, sweetheart. I’ve been suffering.”

“Suffering?” you scoffed, though your cheeks were already warm.

“Agonizing,” he corrected, deadly serious. “Like a man dying in the desert. And you—” he pointed at you dramatically, “—are the only oasis that can quench my thirst.”

You stared at him.

He stared back, completely unapologetic.

And then you burst out laughing. “You’ve been watching those trashy romance dramas again, haven’t you?”

“Shut up and take your clothes off,” he growled, yanking you back into his chest.

--

Well, he put you through it.

The second things started, he didn’t let up—wouldn’t even let you move. Like he was trying to make up for all the time apart in one night. No breaks, no mercy. Just Sukuna, with that feral look in his eyes, making it very, very clear just how much he’d missed you.

When it comes to sex with him, there’s no such thing as “taking it slow.” He’s intense. Greedy sadistic bastard.

By the end of it, you were completely spent—legs shaking, voice hoarse, body humming with overstimulation—and he? He came so hard he passed out on top of you. Just collapsed like a full-grown jungle cat that wore itself out hunting. Arms wrapped around you, dead weight pressing you into the mattress, and a low satisfied grunt rumbling in his chest.

So yeah. He missed you. A lot.

You laid there for a few minutes, trying to catch your breath, hair a mess, skin sticky and flushed, heart still racing. His head was tucked into your neck, breathing deep and slow, already asleep.

You shifted a little beneath him, tapping at his back.

“Sukuna. Hey—get off, you’re heavy.”

He didn’t move. Didn’t even flinch.

“Suku. Babe. You’re crushing my lungs.”

A beat of silence. Then, a soft, almost childish grumble: “Mine…”

You blinked. “What?”

He nuzzled deeper into your neck, voice sleepy and muffled. “Mine. Stay still.”

“You’re literally crushing me—”

“Die then. Still mine.”

You snorted, trying not to laugh, even as he wrapped one of his massive arms tighter around your waist like a damn seat belt. It was useless. You were trapped. Claimed. Claimed by a half-conscious, overgrown menace of a man with not enough self-control.

“…Fine,” you sighed, brushing his hair back from his face. “But if you drool on me again, I swear to god—”

Extra:

3 hours later...

You were still drifting between sleep and reality, body aching in all the right places. Sukuna was no better—completely sprawled beside you, arm draped over your waist like you were his favorite plushie. His breathing was slow, warm against your shoulder. He hadn’t even moved yet.

Eventually, he lifted his head groggily from your skin, eyes heavy-lidded, hair wild like he lost a fight with a thunderstorm. Lips red and swollen, scratch marks visible on his chest and neck. He looked wrecked.

In the best possible way.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of him.

“Why are you laughing?” he murmured, voice still thick with sleep and pure bass.

You were about to answer, still giggling like a fool under the covers, when—

BANG.

His bedroom door slammed open.

“Oh my god, it’s too early for this—Sukuna, please, stop moping—” “Bro, we brought you breakfast ‘cause you haven’t eaten in like, two days—” “IF YOU’RE GONNA DIE OF HEARTBREAK, DO IT QUIETLY—”

The room exploded with voices as Uraume, Gojo, Geto, and Toji stormed in like a damn intervention squad, expecting to find Sukuna in his usual spiral: half-dead, face-down in takeout, and angrily listening to toxic love songs.

What they didn't expect… was you.

Or him. Completely naked. Tangled up with you in the aftermath of what could only be described as biblical levels of destruction.

They all froze.

Eyes wide. Mouths open. Silence like a slap.

Sukuna sat up, completely bare-assed and utterly unfazed. He looked over his shoulder at them slowly—murder in his eyes, sleep still in his bones.

You scrambled, yanking the blanket up to cover your very exposed self, cheeks flaming.

He didn’t care. Not a blink of shame.

“Get the fuck out,” Sukuna grunted, dragging the comforter up higher over you—only you. His back muscles flexed like they were doing it on purpose. “You can scream later. She just got here. And I’m not done.”

Geto immediately spun on his heel. “Nope. Nope. I saw ass. I’m out.”

Gojo gagged dramatically, covering his eyes. “I think I just went blind. Why is your whole spine flexing like that?!?”

Toji just whistled low, grinning. “Damn. No wonder he’s been out of commission.”

Uraume didn’t even flinch, deadpan as always. “Do you want me to bring water or a priest?”

“DOOR.” Sukuna roared.

It slammed shut behind them.

You lay back down, breathless with laughter, still hidden under the blanket. Sukuna rolled over, eyes half-lidded, grin spreading across his stupidly handsome face.

<><>

an: i had a plot and I lost it so.....

Ex Husband!Toji and Milf!Reader hehe hohohohoho

part 1

Ex Husband!Toji who you left because he was... bad. Submerged in debt, addicted to gambling and alcohol, and who disappeared one day right after your youngest son, Megumi, turned five.

Ex Husband!Toji who comes back one day. A big bouquet in hand, a job as a security guard in the bag, and the promise that he has changed. Who has acquired a scar over the lip.

Ex Husband!Toji who promises, swears and gives proof that he has never been with another woman ever since you two divorced. Who claims that the only woman he could ever dream of being in bed with is you.

Ex Husband!Toji who fucks you so hard in the bed you once shared, the bed you will share again. Who manhandles you in the meanest mating press, full nelsons, anything you could imagine.

Ex Husband!Toji who hasn't changed a bit since you two last saw each other. Muscles still chiseled, arms as big as your head, firm chest and fat cock. Although you could swear that he has grown down there ever since you last saw him, or not, you could be hallucinating at the belly bulge that pokes from your insides whenever his cock is buried deep inside.

Ex Husband!Toji who is a thousand times more possessive than you remember, practically barking at whatever man that isn't him or Megumi gets too close to you.

Ex Husband!Toji who can only grin when a lanky looking nineteen year old knocks on his door claiming he is going to kick his ass. Who goes outside and kicks him on the ground, not escaping a busted lip and a bruise on the cheekbone. And who gives you the nastiest french kiss right as the white haired menace is carried away by his friends.

Ex Husband!Toji who promises to fuck another baby into you. Just for good measure, for the bad time he made you spend while watching that little boy get beat up. Who gropes at your breasts, suckling at the nipple and saying the nastiest shit you've ever heard. "Can't wait for this to gimme milk, our lil' baby will have to share with papa." Absolutely foul.

Ex Husband!Toji who snores like a fucking train and sleeps like a bear. Who clings to your body, completely engulfing you. A blessing in the winters, a curse in the summers. Who you can't wake up no matter you much you squirm and thrash in his embrace, and who may or may not have been woken up with a cold glass of water thrown to his face... with Megumi's assistance, of course.

Ex Husband!Toji who gets a boner at how your body has changed. At how you have new curves, new edges, new stretch marks and pretty sun kiss marks all over your skin. Who traces them with rough, calloused fingers while you sleep.

Ex Husband!Toji who can't get enough of your cooking. And who loves to circle your waist with his arms and lean his chin over your shoulder as you cook. Who may or may not also grind himself all over the curve of your ass while doing all that.

Goodbye barely legal Gojo, you'll do better in heaven... I guess.

Toji M.List

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@mrstraffy

nanami's daughter went through an identity crisis at the age of four.

you were teaching her how to write her own name. she happily exclaimed that she can do it herself, after all papa taught her all the alphabets. she clumsily jot down her supposed name and showed it to you, looking very much proud

suethart nanami

you were confused but told her this was not her name. she looked up at you with confused big doe eyes, the color the same as your husband's

"but thats what papa calls me?"

you chuckled behind your hand and explained to her what her actual name was and how it wasnt sweetheart. she looked so devastated that you almost wanted to rename her.

"no, its sweetheart!"

later that evening, before nanami could even announce he was home and put out his shoes, his daughter went to him running

"papa! whats my name??" she asked very firmly, with arms crossed and brows furrowed

he raised his eyebrow at you to see if it was another tiktok prank where he was supposed to call her 'my princess' (hed gladly do that). you just shrugged your shoulders at him, looking very much done. he fondly huffed, things are always so chaotic with you two, but he wouldnt have it any other way. he smiled softly and patted his baby's fluffy haired head

"sweetheart, at least let me put out my shoes first-"

she cheered happily and threw herself in nanamis arms. out of instinct, he held her, with all the gentleness in the world.

"see mama?? i told you my name was sweetheart!!" she then proceeded to give you a 'i told you so' look

nanami, still very much confused and not out of his shoes looked at you, asking for help. you just sighed heavily

later during dinner time, you and nanami both taught your baby about real names and pet names. she got so pouty after she learnt that her name was neither sweetheart nor baby nor honey, it was taking nanami a lot of willpower to not her rename her sweetheart and bring back her sunny smile. but you reassured her that to you guys she will forever be 'sweetheart'. she lit up at your words and proceeded to happily munch her food

nanami blinked. well that was easy.

tho she had another breakdown when she found out that your name wasnt actually 'my love'.

edit : i have a papa geto work too! pls check it out on my profile!! ty :))

♡dilf!nanami♡

warnings: baby fever, mating press, unprotected sex, cumming inside

art creds to @hercaptain and @narutoss.ramen

dilf!nanami who is the girl dad ever.

in fact, when dilf!nanami heard you were expecting girl twins, he was already ordering the matching pink strollers and cribs and little newborn baby onesies.

dilf!nanami who throughout your entire pregnancy, was plastered to your side, making sure your every need was meet, and constantly with a hand on your tummy, feeling for the little baby kicks.

dilf!nanami who when the babies were first born, was with you every step of the way, getting up out of bed at three in the morning if it meant his tired wife could get a few extra hours of sleep, feeding bottles to both of them if your breasts were too sore, rocking them in his big beefy arms and whispering how “daddy’s here”, and even strapping them to his chest in baby slings while he ran errands.

dilf!nanami who you can find cooing at your baby girls, making them giggle as he bounces them on his lap, blowing raspberries on their tummies and tickling them as he keeps them entertained for you.

and not only is dilf!nanami the best father, but he’s also the best husband.

dilf!nanami who after tucking in the babies to bed, tiptoes away to your bedroom.

because while he has to make sure the babies are tended to, he also needs to tend to his baby.

dilf!nanami who takes quick strides to your shared bedroom, wasting no time in sprawling his buff frame over you, pinning you easily down as he huffs hoarsely in your ear, “kids are asleep” while his bulge presses into your soft tummy.

dilf!nanami who is already half-hard at just seeing your chubbed belly and plush hips, your post-pregnancy body was just so tantalizing to him.

dilf!nanami whose hands roam your body with a desperate kind of need, squeezing and kneading tenderly as he places kisses all along your neck and jaw.

dilf!nanami who grunts lowly as your grabby hands reach for his cock, hastily pulling down his boxers until his length slaps against his stomach, spilling pearlescent beads of oozing precum across himself.

dilf!nanami who is huuung, swollen balls and thickened base all leading up to a perfectly symmetrical cock, the tip flushed an angry red and twitching wildly at your gaze.

dilf!nanami who quickly hooks a finger into your panties, shoving them aside before lining himself up, so heavy between your legs you can't help the small moan of anticipation you let out, wriggling your hips up impatiently.

dilf!nanami who only chuckles at his wife's eagerness, too quick to oblige as he begins to push in, past that first tight ring of muscle while you suck him in deeper.

dilf!nanami who groans at the greediness of your slobbering pussy, already trying to milk him for all he's worth as you clamp on tight around him.

"f-fuck, m'.. hah.. gonna cum if you don't stop sucking me in like that sweetie."

dilf!nanami who begins to roll his hips forward, filling you up inch by inch as your moans slur together, tongue lolling out dumbly.

he was just so big, you couldn't help it if you were already cock-drunk!

dilf!nanami who watches as your eyes roll back in your head when he starts up a mean pace, hips snapping into yours ferally while your spit-glossed lips hang open helplessly.

dilf!nanami whose hand comes down between your legs to stroke your twitching clit, the cool metal of his silver wedding band making you jolt with pleasure as you squirm under him.

dilf!nanami's baritone rumble of your name brings you back, as he suddenly throws your legs over his broad-framed shoulders, candied pink lips crashing onto yours in a craze as he folds you into a nasty mating press.

"wan' .. hah.. make ya a pretty mama again.."

"what?" you're gasping for breath, eyelashes fluttering as a familiar coiling heat begins to pool low in your tummy, winding closer with every harsh smack! of his hips into yours.

"can you do that f'me, my love?" dilf!nanami's words have begun to slur, eyes glossy as his throat bobs, pushing your legs up higher 'n higher. "have my babies again?"

drool has begun to seep out of the corners of your lips and with a mindless nod, you find dilf!nanami's hips bucking sloppily as he gets closer.

"say it."

you feel your tummy knotting achingly tight and with a hoarse cry you practically scream out, "k-ken' make me a mommy again! please!" before you're cumming, and cumming hard, creaming all over his cock until it's forming a little ring at his base.

dilf!nanami who is cumming seconds after you, your filthy words sending him over the edge with a soft groan as ribbons 'n' ribbons of hot, milky cum are shooting into you, filling you endlessly up until you're clawing at his back and crying with how stuffed you feel.

dilf!nanami who shudders and jerks over you, whispering small praises as the last wispy remnants of his seed empty into you, fingers coming to stuff the glossy dredges beginning to seep out of your ruined pussy back in.

you hiccup softly, whilst dilf!nanami shushes and coos at you to take it all, lovingly stroking your cheek and placing small kisses on your face while you recover.

dilf!nanami who after giving you a couple more orgasms and tiring you out, hears the babies begin to wail from the other room, tucking you in snugly before whispering “i’ll do it, you get some rest my pretty mama..”

© 2025 CHOSOSCUTIE. please don't copy or translate any of my works. all rights reserved.

LIKES AND REBLOGS APPRECIATED!

tagslist: @stickyyyv4mp @iluvgogurt445

Firefighter!Sukuna stumbling across your ex-boyfriend inside a burning building and just leaving him there.