[sundriedsheets]

BIRDIE. let me find you like a lost lover.

AO3 ⨾ RULES ⨾ TAG LIST

🀥 recents ─ 🀥 revises ─

JJK ⨾ KNY ⨾ MISC

tumblr banner and divider were drawn and created by yours truly. this post is subject to change as the fandom grows. ᝰ.ᐟ

est. sept 2025 © sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content. while i do not own these established characters, the writing is all mine (unless stated otherwise and with given consent). thank you for your loving support!

[sundriedsheets]

omg my cool new mutual, ily 🥹💕

hellooo to my favorite mutual ever! ilysm! 🥹🩷

[sundriedsheets]

the way you write nanami eats down to the ground!!!

i'm so thrilled to know that you enjoy my nanami fics! it is an honor actually, teehee 🤭 i've got so much ideas about him that it makes me so happily overwhelmed ~

[sundriedsheets]

im giggling queef fic i love it

queef supermacy! sugoi!!!!!!!

sorry bro it was just very funny. so cool!

omg bestie, you and me both! also rant away - i appreciate these messages sooo much! i'm so glad you found it funny - that was the one thing i was trying to aim for, and at the same time not lose sukuna's personality 😆 i just feel like he'd def be the type to question where tf did that come from and he'd be stupidly obsessed with it afterwards. ALSO! we do need more queef-supremacy content cuz that happens sometimes whenever boombayah happens

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · nanami loves giving you hickeys

Nanami's hips roll and slap against your skin, the further he thrusts inside you. His entire bedroom smells of sweat and sex, despite several candles of the same scent lit and the window cracked open.

"Are you tired?" His gravelly voice has since gone lower as the moon and stars begin to flitter across the sky. Each syllable he's uttered turns sensual in your ears.

"No." You answer, swiftly locking him in for a kiss.

He wraps your legs around his waist securely and bottoms out again. A heady moan rips from your mouth, and he swallows the sound whole.

Nanami's kisses move to your nose, to the apples of your cheeks, down your throat, and then settle into the baseline between your neck and collarbone. There, he stops and sucks on the crook of it.

The sensation feels too good, rendering you completely into a state of pure bliss and arousal. You swear you hear yourself beg for more, telling him not to stop from both the way he's marking you and the way he's fucking you hopelessly raw.

He might've said something you didn't quite hear or passed a garbled response in return. No matter, you feel the pace quickening and his teeth latching to your skin tighter.

Nanami has never marked you like this before. Oftentimes, they were purely accidental, and they're almost always in discreet places where both of you fail to notice them. But, tonight, when you ask him to cover you with his marks, with something entirely Nanami, he pauses.

He isn't one to lose control easily. He is someone who does things with precision and careful considerations. Even then, a simple mishap can undoubtedly be rectified with alternative solutions.

Thus, an impulsive action such as this is unlike any he has ever committed before. There is a subtle bewilderment marring across his features, though anyone who doesn't know him to the extent that you do would have deduced that Nanami looks like he's only thinking.

There, in his eyes, is an undulated discovery of something quite like finding a secret that only he can have.

"Kento," you call out, cupping his cheeks. "What is it?"

He leans into the touch and kisses your palm. His thumb occasionally brushes the fresh bruise he caused. "It's nothing."

"It doesn't hurt, my love." You say. "If that's what you're worried about."

Nanami's smile appears at the corner. You feel it quirk up against the corner of your hand. "I know, darling."

"Can we continue?" You lightly tease, tapping your foot against the dimple of his lower back.

Nanami tilts your head over to the left. The other side of your unmarked neck becomes visible. He leans down to you, his breath only a whispering distance from your skin.

"Let me," he coaxes before he sucks on the unblemished skin.

His hands travel back to your thighs, massaging them repeatedly, ridding you of pins and needles. His thrusts never cease, as if all that stored energy he has had from being a sorcerer has done him well to maintain a consistent amount of stamina.

As Nanami moves to mark each underside of your breasts next, he guides your arms to his head where he insists that you run your fingers through his hair.

"Oh, shit, baby," you moan near his ears.

"Hmm," his voice vibrates.

"So good, my love."

Nanami momentarily pulls out. He guides your head on a fluffed pillow before he angles you in a venus butterfly position.

His lips move closer to the top of your sopping mound, where he sucks just right above your clit. You grip his hair hard, accidentally yanking a couple of strands. You couldn't even form an apology afterwards, because Nanami never stops his lustful drive. He bites against your skin, pulls your pubic hair teasingly, and moans languidly at the euphoric feeling of it all.

"Oh, my God! Kento! Wait! T-Too much!"

"Pull harder." He grits his teeth, looking at you through your curled bush. "I don't care. Just pull if you must."

Maybe because it's your cunt and it's been sensitive for the past few hours after coming several times, and it's also because it's near your clit where in replacement of his cock, his fingers resume the pounding, and maybe it's because it's simply Nanami Kento — whatever reason it can be, you never expect that when Nanami gives you a hickey right there, it's probably the most intense feeling you've ever felt than any of the hickeys he's given you so far.

And you wonder, why have you two not done this before?

You're left squirming for what little control you can find: none. Your hands scramble to the sheets, gripping them tightly before Nanami forces them back into his hair, demanding that if there's anything you're going to have to hold as he continues, it's going to be him.

"Baby," you call out in a daze. "T-Too much. Too sensitive."

"Just one more." He kisses your clit. "We'll be finished soon."

You must have agreed because it isn't just one more as he declared. Nanami scatters his marks everywhere around your body like constellations. They come in different sizes, each with their own sense of claim. He makes sure, however, that even when he discovers just how wonderful you are with the hickeys he's created, he wouldn't go overboard.

But the one thing he loves most from his work? It's that blotch of purple on your pussy.

"You look beautiful." He says in admiration, his index finger playfully twisting around your pubic hair.

You lean into his touch when he scoops you in his arms and embraces you tightly. "I want to give you one, too."

Nanami smooths your hair. "When you're well-rested. I will let you."

"All right."

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

this is sorta my form of apology (and free therapy) for that hbd nanami  post to anyone who has read that. enjoy :> 

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · sukuna hears you queef for the first time

"What the fuck was that?"

"N-Nothing!" You slammed your hands against your beet-red face. "God, that was nothing!"

"No," Sukuna slaps your hands away, "you just farted down there. How did you do that?" 

"Oh, my God!" You scream vehemently. "It was an accident! Forget about it!"

"Do it again," Sukuna lowers himself near your cunt. "Fart." 

"Sukuna! Stop! Don't make me laugh, God! Stop it, please!" You swat his head, but since your legs are propped up, he only ricochets to the other side until he settles, once again, at the center. His eyes, amidst all that, never left your pussy.

"Then stop stalling, woman! Do it again! Why are you being so difficult?" 

"Because you're being such an idiot right now! And it's not farting! It happened because air got in, and then you suddenly pulled out! That's why! I was basically stretched open."

Sukuna leans his cheek against your knee, contemplating. Then, that damn feral grin shows up. And you know, he's about to do something diabolical. "So you mean to say that if I fuck you and then pull out suddenly, you'd do that?" 

"Y-Yes? I mean, I think so? Look, I'm not sure what would or wouldn't, okay? This is a first for me, too." 

"Well then," he drags his cock to your entrance and pushes in, "let's find out together. Shall we, dear?" 

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ happy birthday, nanami

Nanami doesn't really celebrate his birthday. He never truly gives you a reason why, though you don't push it either. For someone such as himself who hides nothing from you, perhaps there really isn't any significant reason necessary for him to let you know why he doesn't celebrate it. 

However, that doesn't stop you from doing exactly the opposite of what he's used to. 

You've planned it all. Colorful streams decorating every corner of the room, balloons inflated and placed up on the ceiling or down on the floor. You made sure there's an equal balance of them everywhere, at the same time there is a pathway for him to walk onto. 

The cake is all lit up with one candle placed in the middle. It's simple, just the way he prefers it. Nothing too extravagant, like how Gojō suggested a year ago. 

"I mean, he's got to go out with a bang on his birthday," Gojō said once. "Unless that bang is different from the bang I'm thinking about."

"S-Shut up!" You remembered yourself screaming, covering your face because you knew how red you turned out. 

"This is why you're never going to be invited again," Nanami grumbled, turning you away from that horrid man. 

"Nanamin! Wait!" You heard Gojō's cry falling on deaf ears as Nanami motioned for you to get in the car. 

"Something simple is all I want," Nanami said honestly, driving farther and farther away from the source of his irritation. "Just you and me. That's more than enough." 

So a year later, you've done exactly that — just for Nanami. Simple decorations, not so many that they would be an eyesore. One cake, meant for three people max. A candle meant to be blown out by one man. 

Yeah, he would definitely love this. 

"Happy birthday, Kento." You whisper with a smile. 

Except, Nanami isn't here anymore. 

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ "gojō sensei told me not to." 

Satoru stands before you, his gaze ever searching through yours, embedding it in a way you wish he wouldn't. Within his deep-set blue eyes, something feels amiss. They don't look manipulative — no mischief you could have detected right away. There is obviously no trace of the certain way his eyes bring about in him. 

This one watches you softly, almost carefully. Not meekly though; rather, it holds a kind of innocent trait that is nearly impossible for Satoru to possess.

"Don't fuck with me right now . . ." You hear yourself say. There is a hint of a humorless laugh attempting to break away. 

"I —" his voice cracks. It's unlike him. 

"What have you done?" You start. "Hm?"

Satoru remains rigidly quiet. 

"Say something," you push his chest harshly, "you always get the last comment, so say something." 

He closes his eyes. 

You shake your head. There is something you can't quite control trying to flow out of your eyes, yet you force it to stop.

"Satoru," you call with that sweet voice he loves most, "why do you have stitches on your head? Hm? Couldn't you have gone to Shōko for that? Why mar your perfect forehead?" 

Clearing his throat, he says, "I-I had to do it . . ."

"Do what?" Your head tilts, questioningly. "Is there something you didn't tell me?" 

His lips tremble faintly. Anyone might have missed it. But the thing about you is that you know Satoru most. That little quirk of his lip will never go unnoticed by you — even if it's unlike him to do so.

You ram your fist against his chest again. He only takes one step back. 

"Satoru. I am waiting." 

Deep down in your heart, you know what is true. This isn't Satoru. This isn't the man who promised you absolution. This, who stands before you, is shaking, even if his eyes refuse to look anywhere else but your presence. 

However, your mind conjures the easiest plausible escape first. 

Denial. 

Denial. Denial. Denial. That's what it is. 

Then this Satoru calls out your name, and that's when you know you can't run away from the truth forever. 

"Gojō Sensei —"

The scream tears through you in the most unthinkable sound to have ever graced your lips, effectively cutting Yūta off. It's the combination of all there never would be anymore: the longing, the love, the loss, the anguish, the teasing, and the knowing of never having to see him again. 

Yūta looks at you through Satoru's eyes — through those eyes that you loved most, that you've watched open and close many, many times — as his fingers shake uncontrollably, not knowing how even to begin rectifying this. 

"I have to —" his voice cracks brokenly, "— please understand, I had to. I'd never wanted this. I'm sorry."

You scream louder, like a possessed being wailing across the souls of those alive. You pull your hair; strands fall on the ground. And you do just about anything to try and withdraw from this horrible pain. 

"I only have a minute left . . . I have to return to my body. But, I couldn't leave him out there . . ." Yūta weeps openly. "I can't leave Gojō Sensei alone. I wanted to bring him back to you. Somehow. Someway. I'm sorry. I should've —" 

Perhaps it's Yūta, being ever the kindest kid you have met, or maybe it's the muscle memory of your lover; whoever took control, they enveloped you into his arms. You can feel the warmth of his body encasing you in its last burst of energy, and you cling onto that, onto him who's nothing but a carcass already. 

And you finally collapse.

"How could you do this to me!" You hear yourself scream. Yūta doesn't let you go. He holds you tighter. You can still smell the faint scent of Satoru. "How could you! This wasn't part of the plan! You told me you'd win! You said you would! Where is it?! How dare you! How fucking dare you! How could you do this to me, Satoru!"

For that whole minute Yūta gives you, he holds you like how his sensei would've. He whispers things to your ear, deluding you into believing it was Satoru. Until his body convulses, and with one last apology, both from the man you loved and the student you care for most, Yūta finally returns to his own body, and you are left with the real Satoru — hollow and empty and still. 

Your hands fumble up in the air, your mouth hangs wide open for a scream that never comes, your eyes well with so many tears, wide and unblinking, and you look at nowhere else but to your own lover who stares at you. The blues have dimmed to grays. 

"Don't do this to me, please. I'm begging you so much. Please, Satoru. Please, please, please." You beg, shaking his body desperately. "Please. Please, please, please, Satoru, please, please, please, please." 

You continue to shake him. Maybe if you shake him a bit harder, he'd jump-start and return. He'd make a teasing remark that he got you good this time. You wouldn't get angry. You wouldn't even smack the hell out of him. In fact, you'd laugh with him. You'd kiss him, and kiss him, and never let go. 

"Please, Satoru. Please. Please. Please, open your eyes. I'm begging you. I'll do anything, please, wake up. Please, please, please, for me." 

Yūta kneels in front of you. "I-I'm sorry. I — Gojō Sensei has to rest his eyes. Let me . . . p-please." 

You don't remember whether or not you've agreed; all you remember is that Satoru's eyes close for the final time when Yūta's bloodied fingers decide to force them to rest. You are too numb to do it, and he is too selfless to let you. 

Then that's when you begin to bargain. You beg, scream, and demand that there might be some curse technique out there that can bring him back. When the only breathing person in the infirmary tells you that there isn't any curse he knows of, you try another way.

You manage to crawl on your knees towards Yūta, begging him to curse Satoru the way he did to Rika for her.

That you would take care of him, that you would set him free eventually, that it would be okay — just, just, just please, bring him back. 

But Yūta can only force himself to hold your hand, crying with you in hiccups and ragged breathing because he can't, above all else, comply with your wishes. "Gojō Sensei told me not to." 

And you scream again. "That isn't fair! He left me! How could he have done this? When he knows I can't do this without him! I can't do this! Yūta, I can't. Please! Please! Bring him back! To me! Please!" 

Someone tries to enter the room. You throw the nearby thing you can hold onto, which is a chair.

"GET OUT! GET OUT ALL OF YOU! GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!"

Yūta pushes the other objects away from your grasp, and immediately orders the people outside not to enter under any circumstances. Then, he crouches to your level and holds you tightly. Yūta says nothing, despite your nails digging against his back, despite you pulling the front of his hair and shirt, despite everything you're putting him through. 

Things wouldn't stop moving, breathing, and living. And yet, Yūta continues to hold you.

"Yūta," you beg once more, in a whisper no less broken than the others you've implored, "please! Please, bring him back to me. What can I do to make you help me bring him back? Please, Yūta."

"I can't. I won't."

"W-Why?"

Yūta sobs. "Because G-Gojō Sensei told me not to."

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

i am not okay after watching s3 ep2 of hotd, so this is my way of trying to move on. but rlly, i'm lying to myself :<

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · sukuna just might like sweets

Sukuna despises anything sweet; he doesn't understand how anyone could even tolerate such an abominable flavor. It's disgusting, and even in an era in which he is getting himself familiarized with — that blasted thing still exists. 

Yet, something about the way you unwrap that thing and pop it in your mouth with a loud clack against your teeth does something so sinful to him. So fucking bad. 

You notice his stare pointedly at you, and you raise a brow. "What? Wanna taste?" 

He yanks you roughly by your ankles, dragging you close until he can force your legs to encircle his waist. Then, he leans forward, lips minutely teasing yours before he plunges in. His tongue asks for no entrance; he pries you open as he always does, and scoops that wretched piece of sweet from you. 

Your moan rumbles against his mouth, and he deepens himself further. 

Your hands travel to his clothes, ripping them apart as he does the same. Bodies clash against one another, each fighting for dominance. But like his domain expansion against everybody else's, Sukuna remains victorious. 

"Open." He demands. 

You comply, and he returns the candy to your mouth as he thrusts inside you. 

"Fuck, that's it, baby." He whispers to your ear. 

When he captures your lips again, you push the candy into his mouth. He takes it with ease, but not before he lets his tongue scour you as if it's a world he has yet to discover once more. 

"So fucking good," you say against the kiss. 

He places both of your legs on top of his shoulders and folds you. The new position causes you to moan lewdly, calling his name like some reverent being. You can feel him buried much deeper, and when you tilt your head and look at how he's fucking you, you notice him bulging through your stomach.

His thrusts turn unforgiving. You expect that no less from the King of Curses. His hands have fondled both your breasts and clit ceaselessly, twisting, pulling, and flicking them. Your releases come over and over, never stopping because it's not enough. He's not sated just yet. Perhaps until you start crawling from just how fucking spent you are from him will he finally determine he's satisfied. But even then . . . you doubt that. 

The way he moves his cock, ramming in and out of you, matches the rhythm of the way he pushes and takes the candy back and forth from your mouth and his. 

"If this is your way of making me like sweets," he chuckles darkly before he bites your lip enough to draw blood, "consider it accomplished."

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ training season

This is ridiculous. Sakura can't even begin to process the fact that you're asking him to train you when you have a perfectly adept boyfriend who's already suited for the job. 

Yet, here you are with your arms crossed, having the audacity to pout at him for refusing to train you.

"No," he hears himself say for the sixth time when you beg. 

"Come on!" You urge. "Ren wouldn't teach me, and none of the other guys would."

He probably threatened them. 

All the more reason for Sakura not to do this. "I said, no." 

"I can't always rely on you guys helping me out," you try to reason with, "you and I both know that. Since Ren is also a grade captain, I don't want to add more responsibilities for him if I can, at least, take care of myself, too." 

Sakura sighs. He knows that much is true. People can't keep expecting to rely on others when they're more than capable of carrying their own weight. Self-guilt tends to overrule rationality at times, too, and so he understands, to an extent, where you're coming from. 

That doesn't mean, however, that he's going to give in. He's probably on Kaji's shit list since day one, and if he isn't, this will definitely put him on the spot. While he respects Kaji, there were times when heated spats were exchanged, and only Hiragi's barely there lecture is getting the two grade captains to maintain civility for the most part. 

"No one wants to teach me. And I know that it's that idiot's doing." You slump your shoulders. "But, I've heard about you from Ren." 

"Ha — what?"

You blink and smile. "Said that you're good and more than capable of standing your ground. That if I ever am in trouble and he isn't there, I'd run to you next."

Maybe it's the sun slapping the hell out of his face, but for some reason, Sakura feels like he's on fire. Or you're pulling his strings here too well. 

"You don't have to teach me everything you know," you kick a pebble aside, "I just want to learn enough to defend myself. That if running isn't an option, I'm not out of ideas what to do to save myself." 

Sakura rubs the back of his neck, face still burning hotter. "A-All right."

Your eyes sparkle with so much joy, he'd think that he basically offered you the world. 

Kaji's definitely going to kill me. 

"Great! When do we start?" 

It's not an if, per se, but a when. And it's only a matter of time before Kaji bursts through the first-year class with the most killing potent Sakura has ever felt radiating off of him.

Nirei shivers in fear, hiding himself behind Suo's back. The other students are tense, wondering why Kaji is here. 

But Sakura knows, and each step that your boyfriend takes towards him is a plan to make your training brutally difficult. If he's going to suffer your boyfriend's temper, you're going down with him. 

"You." Kaji points his finger towards Sakura. 

Sakura raises his brow. "If this is about her training, don't bother. I've tried. I don't know how you do it." 

Kaji's fists clenched. "Not one hair misplaced." 

Sakura looks at him in confusion. "The hell do you mean?"

Kaji bites onto the stick of his candy hard enough for the rest to hear his teeth grate against each other. "Not. One. Hair. Misplaced." 

And that's all he has ever said, because as quickly as he enters, Kaji leaves like a whirlwind that passes merely to wreak havoc. 

"Tsk, I told him not one hair out of you," Kaji grumbles as he massages your legs. 

"Higher," you mumble against the pillow, groaning when he gets the knot. 

"Brat," Kaji continues to complain, "now look at you: you can barely walk." 

You turn your head to his sulking figure and smile, "Ren, I wanted to do this. He's the only one who wasn't scared enough to teach me."

His lollipop swirls rapidly. "I told you that you don't need to. I've got you."

"And I appreciate that." You completely turn around to face him now. "But Ren, be realistic for a second here. You can't always be there with me."

"Watch me."

"Ren." You roll your eyes and sigh. "I'm not gonna go out of my way to find trouble, but after what happened with you guys and Keel, who knows? I don't want you to divide your attention when someone needs you more if I can learn how to defend, too." 

"Bold of you to assume you're not my priority."

"Okay, be serious, right now, and think about this hypothetical scenario." 

"I am. Why do you think we're having this discussion in the first place?"

You smack the side of his head with the pillow. "The point is —" you stress each syllable, "— let Sakura teach me. As I told him, if running isn't an option, I don't want to cry and let myself get beaten up."

Kaji closes his eyes tightly shut. 

"Please, let me do this. If you want, you can stay and supervise each time Sakura helps me?"

Kaji pushes himself to rest his head against your shoulder. His arms encircle your waist, pulling you closer to his lap while he runs his hands up and down your sides. You can hear the tune of his music blasting off from his headphones, and you scramble your hands to reach towards his phone to lower it. 

"Three times a week, only." Kaji concedes, at last. "After school, come by my class first, and we're going to walk to the field together." 

You kiss his forehead. "Yeah, sure! I'd like that."

Kaji exhales and returns your kiss. 

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

[sundriedsheets]

NSFW SHORT FICS (MDNI) MASTERLIST

nanami loves giving you hickeys ·

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content. while i do not own these established characters, the writing is all mine (unless stated otherwise and with given consent). thank you for your loving support!

[sundriedsheets]

SFW SHORT FICS MASTERLIST

happy birthday, nanami ·

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content. while i do not own these established characters, the writing is all mine (unless stated otherwise and with given consent). thank you for your loving support!

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ gojō satoru's daughter loves yūta 

The very second Satoru's daughter can walk is the day that goes down in history for him. There is nothing that the little munchkin can't do once her legs start kicking: waddling like a cute-dumb penguin over the verandas, up the stairs, to the training grounds, and even in the classroom where he holds weekly meetings for his second- and first-year students. 

Yuji often says that she's the one who softens up a week's worth of scolding. Panda and Maki say she's the ticket to a hard-earned rest. Nobara pushes further that with her in the group, they can get an expensive meal out of their sensei. And yes — all those are absolutely true. 

And that's just her figuring out how to use her chubby, little legs. 

Now, imagine his utter dismay, the day on which he has lamented and scorned the world, when she starts babbling a litany of coherent words. Yet, in that absurd dictionary of hers, the word "Dada" is still missing. 

Granted, she can barely say three words, consisting of "Mommy, food," and "poop," Satoru is still very much determined to be number four in her first words. 

"Give it time," you said to your husband once, when he pouted against your shoulders as you cleared up the dishes. "She's trying."

"I wanted her to say my name first," Satoru mumbled. 

You snort, because of course, he always wanted to be first for everything. "Sucks, doesn't it?" 

Needless to say, on one summer morning, when he is supervising all his students' training (at the rare chance that they're all together), you come bounding down the stairs with packed lunches for everyone, and clinging to your waist tightly with a flower grasped in their hands is your daughter.

Satoru quickly unbinds his bandages because if there's one thing he wishes to do every time he sees his daughter, it's to see her as she is. Nothing to obscure his vision of what perfection is. 

"Come here, my sweet potato!" He crouches down and opens his arms for her. His other students stop and greet the new guests, but Satoru's attention is all but pointing to the little bundle of joy running at breakneck speed towards — 

"What!"

His own daughter, his pride and joy, the one he so begged you to have with him, the one he would sing all those crappy songs that make no sense, the little devil who would beg him to eat her vegetables because Mommy didn't make it right, and the one who would cling to his leg as he runs around the room like a lunatic before you stop it — runs straight to the arms of Yūta. 

Yūta, who crouches down and picks her up with so much ease, where her little giggles turn into skittish ones that send more arrows straight to Satoru's heart. 

"You've grown up so well!" Yūta praises, brushing her hair aside. "Look at you!"

Satoru pulls his hair and grits his teeth together because only Satoru gets to spin his daughter around like that, not Yūta. That's only a thing between him and his baby girl, and only the father, as he so emphasizes it, gets to do that. 

His daughter pulls him out of his imagination of flicking Yūta's forehead repeatedly when she squeals and tries to grab the hilt of Yūta's sword. 

With a quick, "Whoa, there!" Yūta methodically spins her around at the same time he tosses his weapon to Maki. 

There is no greater threat to him than his daughter having a crush on one of his students. As he stands, stupefied, watching his daughter give her flower to Yūta, who tucks it behind her ear and calls her beautiful, Satoru feels the world collapse on itself and swallow him whole.

She's not supposed to like anyone but him. And she's not supposed to like anyone until she's old and he's dead. 

And so, is this what death is? Cold and harsh and unforgiving? 

"How cute!" You say beside him, bumping his knee to get him up. 

Satoru would love to get up if Yūta would love to let his daughter go, and if Yūta would love to return to Africa indefinitely. 

"You better not do what I think you're thinking right now." You mutter threateningly. 

"And what is it I'm gonna do, sweetie?" 

"If I find out Yūta goes missing tomorrow, I will hunt you down like I did when you buried my Barney stuffed toy." 

"Pffft," Satoru says, "I did no such thing."

"Satoru, there was a footage camera, and you were in that stupid video, and Nanami saw you. Don't bullshit with me right now. I will literally break your ass again with Nanami's butcher knife."

Satoru deflates. "It's not faiiir! I want time with my daughter, too!"

"She hardly sees them anyway, and you know that Yūta's her favorite." 

"Kid's barely in town, and she chose him of all people?" 

"Yūta's adorable. I'm sure she finds him adorable, too."

Satoru gasps, heartstricken. "Take that back right now!"

"You're being dramatic. Yūta wouldn't even hurt her or let anyone hurt her. You should be glad."

"She's got me, her daddy. Daddy will protect her." Satoru whines. "She didn't even greet me . . . went straight to Yūta instead . . ."

You laugh sympathetically. "That just goes to show you that he's great with kids. You know that kids are naturally drawn to those who are kind-hearted." 

Satoru concedes, "I suppose." 

"Let her be. Yūta's often out on missions, and whenever he's free, it's past her bedtime. Give her this moment, Satoru." 

The two of you watch as your daughter hovers over Yūta while the rest coo and greet her affectionately. In hindsight, if Satoru isn't jealous about it, he would think that it's nice to know his daughter is very well protected by his students. Plus points that she's quite drawn to Yūta — since now, there is absolutely no way any curses would be around your vicinity so long as he's there. 

But, as the sun begins to set and he's about to conclude today's training, Satoru's daughter does one more thing to drive a nail into his father's poor, crumpled heart. 

"Love! Yūta! Love! Love!" 

"Oh, shit." 

Satoru hears you mumble through the ringing in his ears and the cracks of red bleeding through his Six Eyes. 

Yūta is definitely going overseas tonight. 

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

[sundriedsheets]

NSFW SHORT FICS (MDNI) MASTERLIST

in which sukuna asks you to sit on him · sukuna just might like sweets · sukuna hears you queef for the first time ·

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content. while i do not own these established characters, the writing is all mine (unless stated otherwise and with given consent). thank you for your loving support!

[sundriedsheets]

𓂃✍︎ 18+ mdni · in which sukuna asks you to sit on him

"This is ridiculous!" 

"Woman! You're being ridiculous!" 

"Keep talking to me like that, and you just won't have it then!" You scream indignantly, looking past your bare stomach, from underneath your bush, and just enough to see his glare piercing straight at you. 

"Let me eat you out. Look at yourself! You're already so wet for me. So, just sit for —" Sukuna sighs sharply, unknowingly sending a warm bubble of air directly against your clit. 

The sudden wave of heat quickly encompasses you, and you instinctively clamp your knees against his ears, buckling down hard to his mouth, effectively cutting off a poetry of curses from Sukuna. 

"Oh, shit!" You squawk, immediately raising yourself. "Why the fuck would you even do that!" 

"Is it my fault you're the sensitive one? Do it again. I like it. Come here." He positions you back in place, your cunt directly above his mouth, and your clit torturously erect when he flicks it. 

"No, wait!"

"You can't kill me, that'll be stupid even for a curse like me." He pushes your hands away when you try to grab a fistful of his hair and yank him down to the pillows. 

"J-Just, hold on!"

You've been in this position for the past fifteen minutes, debating with yourself if he should just eat you out because seeing his heated gaze straight to your clit and your breathless cunt being pried wide open with his fingers, looking intently for any signs of your release flowing out, is enough for you to come at this sensation alone. 

But the thing is that you're simply nervous because it hasn't been long since he first ate you out, and while it was new and so fucking good, you're still embarrassed about the whole prospect of it. 

"I just need . . ." you prep yourself up, "I get ticklish when I think too much about it."

"There's hardly anything you think about these days, and you have to think right now?" 

"Shut the fuck up, or I'm walking out of here."

"Baby," he calls a little gentler, though it doesn't sound any different than how he would curse another, "just sit. Please."

"Oh?" You manage to entice a chuckling tease, "You never say please that way."

"For fuck's sake, you're being too unrea — mmphh!"

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, edit, steal, translate, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content.

[sundriedsheets]

"that's rude. it's pure love."

this masterlist contains all the works i have ever created for this fandom. tumblr banner and divider were drawn and created by yours truly. please take the time to read RULES before diving into my works. you can also find some of my works on AO3. ᝰ.ᐟ

GOJŌ SATORU ── nsfw short fics · sfw short fics

SUGURU GETO ── nsfw short fics

RYŌMEN SUKUNA ── nsfw short fics

NANAMI KENTO ── nsfw short fics · sfw short fics

© sundriedsheets — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content. while i do not own these established characters, the writing is all mine (unless stated otherwise and with given consent). thank you for your loving support!

[sundriedsheets]

NSFW SHORT FICS (MDNI) MASTERLIST

© ohfreshlinen — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, edit, steal, feed into ai, or plagiarize my content. while i do not own these established characters, the writing is all mine (unless stated otherwise and with given consent). thank you for your loving support!