★ title - girlfriend tax (aka begging jjk boys for gym pics) part 2! ⋆·˚ ༘ *
★ genre - fluff, crack, suggestive ⋆·˚ ༘ *
★ rating - 16+ ⋆·˚ ༘ *
★ character - yuji, megumi, inumaki ⋆·˚ ༘ *
★ warnings - fem! reader, cursing, gym pics from pinterest, ur a freak but so are they, mentions of underage smoking in yuji's, horny teenagers, kys/death jokes, very suggestive in these (they rly jus goin freak 4 freak atp 🥹✌️) ⋆·˚ ༘ *
★ wc - 15 screenshots ⋆·˚ ༘ *
★ a/n - gojo, nanami, sukuna ver here! all fanart from pinterest, credit to the artists <3 ⋆·˚ ༘ *
THIS WORK IS WRITTEN BY A MINOR, BLOCK IF UNCOMFORTABLE!!!
pairing/characters: jjk men x f!reader | gojo, nanami, yuji, megumi, toji, sukuna
synopsis: how the jjk men react to you asking them for a bicep pic!
cw: cussing, suggestive jokes, fluff, petnames, fratkuna not canon sukuna
masterlist
authors note: hi pookies sorry i really have no excuse for not posting, im just lazy lol! i wouldn’t say im back for real but im lurking here and there, and just so happened to see this request! it took forever so my bad hun but ty for putting in your req, mwah!
. . . you’ve heard of him before. sukuna. you knew that apparently, he loved to fuck around with girls, mostly at parties, and got in trouble most of the time because he was a typical fratboy.
he never noticed you, and you never noticed him despite hearing about him from your friend after they spent a night with him.
the first time he actually saw you, was in his English Comp class, where you always raised your hand to answer the professor’s questions. Sukuna noticed how you seemed nothing like the girls he was used to, both personality wise and looks.
didn’t mean you weren’t cute to him.
the first time he tried to charm you (because he was just built like that, of course), it failed miserably.
you were walking down the hallway, talking to the same friend who hooked up with sukuna, when he tapped your shoulder.
you turned around, looking up at him.
“. . . yes?”
he looked down at you, seeing how your cheeks were just so naturally chubby, how you looked so cute—
“wanna go out with me? the ladies say I’m pretty good.” he noticed the girl beside you, looking smug.
a few awkward, slient seconds passed before you responded.
“thanks but uh, I’ll pass. I don’t know you, try another day.” you suppressed a chuckle, glancing at your friend, giving her that look.
so much for a first impression. he’ll just have to try harder.
jujutsu kaisen men and their favorite place to kiss you
cw: none, gn!reader
───﹙s.g.﹚ gojo’s favorite place to kiss you is your forehead. he’s tall—annoyingly so—and he loves the way you have to tilt your head up to look at him. he’ll do it in the middle of a crowded street, in the middle of a fight, in the middle of you trying to be mad at him. he’ll lean down, press his lips to your brow, and linger there just long enough for you to feel the warmth of his breath. “you’re so cute when you’re flustered,” he’ll say, and you’ll shove him, but he’s already dodging, laughing, eyes crinkling behind his blindfold. he knows you love it. he does it again five minutes later.
───﹙s.g.﹚ geto’s favorite place to kiss you is your hand. not in a performative way, he’s not doing it for the crowd. it’s very deliberate. he’ll take your wrist, turn your palm up, and press his lips to the inside of it, right where your pulse flutters. sometimes he’ll kiss your knuckles, one by one, like he’s memorizing you. he’ll do it when you’re sitting across from him at a table, or when you’re walking side by side, or when you’re about to leave. it’s his way of saying i’ll see you soon without saying anything at all. his eyes stay on yours the whole time, dark and patient, and it makes your chest ache.
───﹙r.s.﹚ sukuna’s favorite place to kiss you is your neck. not gently—never gently. he’ll grab your jaw, tilt your head to the side, and press his mouth to the curve of your throat like he’s claiming you. his teeth graze, his tongue follows, and he doesn’t care if it leaves a mark. he wants it to. he’ll do it in the middle of a sentence, interrupting himself just to feel you shiver. “you’re mine,” he’ll murmur against your skin, and his voice is low, rough, like a warning and a promise all at once. you hate how much you like it.
───﹙n.k.﹚ nanami’s favorite place to kiss you is your shoulder. it’s subtle, almost shy. he’ll come up behind you while you’re washing dishes or reading a book, and he’ll rest his chin on your shoulder first, just breathing you in. then he’ll press a kiss to the fabric of your shirt, or your bare skin if it’s accessible, soft and unhurried. “you work too hard,” he’ll say, even though he works harder than anyone. his lips linger, and his hands find your waist, and for a moment, the world slows down. it’s his way of saying i see you. i’m here. thank you for being mine.
───﹙t.f.﹚ toji’s favorite place to kiss you is your jaw. he’s rough around the edges, always has been, but when he kisses you there—just below your ear, along the sharp line of your bone—it’s almost tender. he’ll do it when he’s passing by, hand brushing your hip, mouth grazing your skin like it’s nothing. but it’s not nothing, and you both know it. he’ll smirk when you lean into him, call you needy, but he’ll do it again anyway. and again. and again. until you’re the one pulling him closer.
───﹙h.h.﹚ higuruma’s favorite place to kiss you is your temple. he’s a man of quiet affections, he doesn’t do grand gestures and doesn’t say much when it comes to feelings. but when you’re stressed, when you’re overthinking, when you’re crying over something small, he’ll cup your face with both hands and press his lips to your temple. it’s grounding. steady. he’ll stay there for a long moment, forehead resting against yours after. “you’re okay,” he’ll whisper, and his voice is so soft, so sure, that you almost believe him. he’ll kiss you there again when you smile.
───﹙c.k.﹚ choso’s favorite place to kiss you is your nose. he’s still learning what love is, what you like, how to be gentle. but he figured this one out on his own. he’ll lean in, thumb brushing your cheek, and press a kiss to the tip of your nose, quick and earnest. his ears go red every time. “you look pretty,” he’ll say, which is his version of i love you. he’ll do it again when you laugh, and again when you’re sad, and again when you’re just sitting there, existing. it’s his favorite thing. kissing your nose. he’ll never stop doing it.
⤷ ゛your husband nanami kento tries your breast milk ˎˊ˗ fluff into smut, fem!reader, husband!nanami ♡
wc. 641
ever since you gave nanami a baby girl, he'd changed. more attentive. more gentle. he handled late-night feedings, changed diapers without complaint, and constantly made sure you had everything you needed.
but lately, there was always something else in his eyes whenever he watched you.
one evening, you sat in the living room nursing your daughter when nanami quietly wandered in from the kitchen. he stopped beside the couch, gaze lingering on the peaceful sight of your baby feeding in your arms.
his throat tightened.
he wasn't sure when the curiosity had started, but lately he'd found himself wondering...
what does breast milk taste like?
the thought made his ears burn.
"ken?" you asked softly. "something wrong?"
he blinked. "i'm alright, darling. just thinking."
once your daughter finished and drifted off, the two of you tucked her into bed together. nanami smiled as he pulled the blanket over her tiny shoulders before quietly following you back to the living room.
"you've been quiet tonight," you teased.
"sorry love," he said, then quickly changed the subject.
the conversation faded in a couple minutes, and after dozing off together for a while, you shifted uncomfortably. your blouse was damp where milk had leaked through.
"you feeling alright?" nanami asked, noticing your squirming
"i'm just really full," you sighed, instinctively cradling your breast. "i should probably pump."
as you stood, he suddenly grabbed your wrist.
"don't," he said quietly, "i…"
he seemed to be wrestling with something internally, brow furrowed slightly. you sat there, suprised by his sudden interruption. "ken? baby, i really need to pump."
"…would it help if…" he trails off, regretting starting the sentence.
"help if what?"
"…if i helped instead of the pump."
you blinked, certain you heard him wrong "what?"
his ears were noticeably red now, the flush creeping down his neck. he looked away, jaw tightening.
"…relive the pressure," he clarified, his voice strained. "instead of pumping."
a startled laugh bubbled up from your chest, completely breaking the heavy tension. you couldn't help it—the sight of your usually composed husband flustered was a rare right.
"oh kento!" you giggled, pressing a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound so you won't wake your baby. "you could have just said you wanted to try some, y'know."
"i didn't know how to ask..." nanami managed to say, watching you laugh. he was feeling like an idiot but also strangely warmed by your reaction.
"so, do you want it in a cup, or straight from the source?" you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly.
"a cup. please."
"thought so."
you disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with a small glass of freshly pumped milk. sliding it toward him, you watched his fingers wrap around the warm glass.
he stared at it for a long moment before finally taking a cautious sip.
his eyebrows lifted.
"...it's actually really good."
you laughed.
"it's sweet, like vanilla," he admitted, sounding genuinely surprised.
"i know."
he took another small sip before looking back at you, still slightly pink.
"i didn't expect that."
leaning your chin into your hand, you smiled.
"want more?"
safe to say that he liked it, so of course the next time you two had sex (after the baby was settled at his parents for the night) he didn't hesitate.
pinning you to the mattress, he immediately lowered his head to your chest, warm mouth closing over your nipple.
"oh— ken" you gasped as he sucked eagerly.
"mmph—" he pulled back, his mouth shining wetly with your milk. his pupils were dilated, his gaze intense.
"another one," he panted, nipping at your neck possessively. "i want another baby. so you'll always be full of milk for me to drink."
soon enough his wish was fulfilled because two months later, there were two lines on your pregnancy test. (yes, with twins this time)
a/n: next time it'll be in reverse WHO SAID THAT. i did so much research for this fic only for me to delete all the detailed parts because i didnt want to bore anyone 💔
⡴ gym teacher!sukuna has an embarrassingly known crush on school nurse!reader
lowkey wanna turn this into a full oneshot
if he heard one more twelve year old’s squeaky voice whispering to one another, saying he’s ‘got a crush on the school nurse’ he swears he’s gonna write up the whole grade.
god, it’s even worse when one of the eighth grade girls come up to him when he’s on lunch duty.
“mr., mr. ! did you know the nurse mentioned she likes tall guys when i went into her room for a tylenol !”
“what does that have to do with me ?” he grumbles, scrunching his face while the girl and her friend stare up at him.
“well everyone knows you like like her—”
“GO SIT DOWN!”
he swears the whole lunchroom conveniently goes quiet when he yells that as the girls squirm away back to their tables and start whispering around gossip.
and even worse than the girls that draw hearts around you and sukuna’s staff photos next to eachother in the main office, he’s got gojo. gojo, who ships you two and nags him like worse-than a middle school girl. gojo, who shoves you two together for any school event.
“what game do you have planned for tomorrow?” you ask, leaning over to whisper to sukuna as eighth grade awards are called for each subject, timing claps inbetween your words while names are called. you smirk, “how many kids am i gonna have sent my way next time?”
“just dodgeball.” he leans down to whisper flatly against your ear, still staring down a kid giggling in the seating rows of the auditorium and effectively getting him to stop with his gaze.
“your version of dodgeball is basically to the death, i might have to have paramedics in my room on standby.” you joke, turning to smile at him so sweetly. in his mind, this counts as him making you laugh and therefore counts as a win.
he chuckles lightly, just a quick huff of his chest, but essentially the hardest he can laugh if he’s not looking at a kid getting tackled in class. “these kids will toughen up eventually, i am just teaching them to do it early.”
“were you a weak kid that needed to toughen up? i can really only picture you as a big scary dude.”
“i was actually a severely malnourished child due to my mothers impoverished state during her pregnancy.“ he says, truly not realizing how solemn he sounds in his voice even as he means it as a light hearted jest.
you blink at him, face contorted in confusion and awkwardness. he wants to hit himself.
the only thing that saves him from not saying anything stupid again is the end of the assembly, marked by gojo yelling into a megaphone and for kids to round up by homeroom.
the following week he’s still embarrassed to even look you in the eyes. he’s mulling over how stupid he must’ve looked infront of you while sifting through the equipment closet.
he hears steps echo throughout the currently empty gym before he yells out.
“gojo i’m not covering your lunch break, fuck off—” he turns around to not see the usual suspect he finds during his free period. instead, he sees you, leaning against the door in scrubs and white coat clinging to your body. he stills in his motion.
you speak before he can (if he can speak at all in his embarrassed state).
“i understand the confusion, he bothers me all the time too.” you dismiss, smiling at him with your glossed lips he probably thinks about hourly. waitwaitwait, gojo talks to you all the time ? he’s going to kill that lanky fuck. “just wanted to drop these off for yuri in your next period.” you jostle around a pill bottle in your hand, “she can get fainty on gym days so give these to her just in case to help prevent that.” he knows it’s your job and all, but your concern is honestly kinda cute.
“uhh yeah i’ll be sure to.” he nods, right as you drop the bottle on top of a stack of rubber cones by the door before you walk out. and he would just like it to be known he definitely didn’t stare at your ass as you left.
and he typically makes it easier for himself to deny how down bad he is to you, but now, after you spent a week of saved up sick days out last week, he’s kind of craving your voice. so who can blame him when he calls his 6th grade nephew into his office while he’s supposed to be at lunch.
“look, kid. i’m going to need you to do something, and i’m gonna need you to not be annoying about it, kay?”
yuji furrows his brows, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie.
“you,” he gestures to his nephew, “are going to act like you collapsed and let me bring you up to the school nurse. you are then going to be quiet when i talk to her.”
“is it cause you have a crush on her—”
sukuna tenses before cutting him off.
“do a good job acting and i will consider buying you that human earthworm blu-ray. do you hear me, brat?”
yuji’s eyes light up at the mention of the dvd.
“is this impression good enough then?” yuji leans and clutches at his side in fake fatigue while moaning dramatically for help, then immediately straightens up with a smile like he’s waiting for a rating. sukuna shakes his head and genuinely wonders how he’s related to this—in sukuna’s words— pea brained doofus.
he dials your number on his offices phone, sitting tense in his chair while he shh’s yuji. yuji nods and salutes as sukuna continues to roll his eyes.
yuji could’ve sworn he saw him smile when you pick up. he continues to watch sukuna fiddle with the curled wire of the phone as he explains yuji’s apparently dire situation. he can just barely hear the muffled sound of you saying ‘just bring him up and i’ll check him out.” over the speaker of the phone before sukuna hangs up and fixes his hair.
sukuna walks out the door and desperately tries to ignore yuji’s terrible post fainting impression behind him as his nephew follows his step to your room.
just before they step into your room he whispers to yuji as he leans over.
“if you can bring up me being single i’ll take you out for ice cream, brat.”
୨୧ — "Tooojiii~", you chime, skipping up to him before wrapping your arms around one of his massive biceps. The sheer size difference making you look even smaller.
He arches an eyebrow, that smirk you adore so much playing at his lips, "what're you plotting?"
"Nothing at all," you say sweetly, your finger tracing the defined muscles of his arm, "Juuuust taking in the view~."
He snorts, but there's amusement in those sharp Zenin eyes, "The view, huh? Sure it's not just an excuse to cop a feel?"
"M’nope! I was just admiring how the sunrise today makes you look extra dangerous~"
"Dangerous, huh?" The big bad Toji Zenin grins, amused by how you can make even that sound like a compliment, "Most people don't say that while grinning like they've found a puppy."
"Well, I'm not most people," you giggle while pressing your cheek against the warmth of his arm, "And your arms are way better than any puppy. Now up, please ~!" you can’t stop the dumb grin on your face when he flexes his bicep deliberately under your grip.
"Tch. You're worse than a kid." He grumbles as he effortlessly hoists you up with his arm, your feet dangling. Toji huffs, but there's no hiding the flush creeping up his neck, "And flattery will get you nowhere."
Despite his gruff demeanor, you know he secretly loves how you get all stary eyed at his strength.
You grin cheekily, "i dunno, I think it’s gotten me pretty fa-."
"Papa! UP!" A tiny voice suddenly demands. You both look down to see little Megumi- the very proof of how far your flattery has gotten you with Toji Zenin. Your sons arms were stretched high above his head in a perfect mirror of your earlier pose.
Toji's expression softens gradually as he looks at his son. Without putting you down, he easily scoops up Megumi with his free arm, holding both of you aloft like you weigh nothing.
"Great… now I've got two clingy brats," he complains, but his eyes are warm as Megumi squeals in delight, tiny hands patting his father's muscled shoulder.
summary: sukuna would rather spend every night pretending another woman is you than risk losing the one person he's wanted his entire life. but lately pretending isn't working like it used to.
content/warnings: MDNI 18+ explicit content under the cut, modern au, bff sukuna, explicit language, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, perverted sukuna, he thinks about you while having sex with other women, mentions of masturbating to you without your consent, she/her pronouns and afab body descriptions, no use of y/n, reader kinda haunts the narrative, sukuna is soooo down bad, one-sided pining, some angst
word count: 2.8k
a/n: wrote most of this a while ago. got deleted. executive dysfunction hit. re-wrote it lmao. idk how I feel about it. not the daredevil fic I promised but I'm working on that too. as always, thank you for reading <3
sukuna's sunday mornings have ended the same way for the past two months: tangled in the sheets of women he isn’t attached to.
sometimes it was a witty little minx that batted her eyelashes at him just right through the dim lighting of a packed nightclub. other times, it was some girl he met on a dating app that accepted his minimum-effort advances in exchange for the best sex of her life. to anyone paying attention, sukuna’s sudden appetite for meaningless sex would’ve been simple enough to explain.
but the only thing all his flings had in common was that they were all being used as substitutes for you, the woman he felt he couldn’t have.
well, it's not that he literally couldn't have you. your parents never forbade you from coming in contact with him. quite the opposite actually– both yours and sukuna's families have been well-acquainted friends even before your parents were born. and while it was great that he got to sit next to you every christmas dinner and spend every birthday party together hiding away from everyone else in your own world, sukuna wasn't ready to admit the full extent of his feelings for you. he wasn’t willing to risk destroying the special bond that took years to nurture and develop.
and as sukuna recently discovered, the closest he could get was settling for tongue-fucking the brains out of his latest fling while thinking about you.
the room is silent except for the slurps echoing the walls of the guest bedroom. behind the locked door, the party is still in full-force – the rhythmic thumping of the bass coming from the speakers matches sukuna’s heartbeat. he can feel it pulsing in his temples as he shifts his eyes up to take a peek at his partner.
the woman’s name had been long discarded, just like the minidress she was wearing a half-hour ago at the latest party sukuna was attending. with his mouth on her cunt and her moans in his ears, he caught another whiff of her perfume – the reason he selected her to share this night with him in the first place. sukuna closes his eyes again and remembers how earlier that evening, he had managed to catch the familiar scent on her frame in the midst of sweaty bodies. it was so distinct: sweet and sexy combined, an aroma he recognized as the fancy extrait de parfum he gifted you last christmas. That was the beginning of his mistake.
sukuna thinks back to how you wore that perfume at his last birthday party. the floral notes had lingered on his shirt after your goodbye hug long enough that later that night, he unashamedly fisted himself while burying his nose in it to inhale as much of your scent as he could. currently, with the amount of alcohol in his system and the party’s alluring ambience setting the mood, a few whiffs of that scent and the memory of his best friend in her cute sundress was enough to send a few waves of pleasure down to his core.
lying had always been second nature to him, so he had no issue whispering in this woman’s ear how he'd been staring at her all night hoping for a chance to show her “a good time with a real man,” as he put it. a calculated sly gaze and a few more sugar-coated words were all it took for her legs to end up locked over sukuna's shoulders on someone else’s bed, his face buried in her leaking cunt.
jaw slick with a mix of her juices and his own drool, he can’t help but think about how your own pussy would react if you were in this woman’s spot. he bets you would taste even better than any of the other girls he’s had before, akin to the nectar of life. he would lap up every single drop of yours like a man starved for your taste, unable to live without it. he would draw circles on your clit with his tongue, like he’s doing now. apply minor pressure against your soft bud, just enough to have you desperately grinding your hips into his mouth, brows furrowed and breath shallow. sukuna knows you’d be shy at first, stifling your moans by pressing the back of your hand against your mouth, biting down on the skin just to keep quiet. he’d make it his mission to get you to scream his name instead.
his private fantasies elicit a deep groan against the woman’s clit. the sudden vibration only makes her already wanton moans louder and her legs wrap tighter around his head. she whines for more. with his mind elsewhere, he hasn’t even noticed that he’s been lapping at her pussy for ages, and she's growing desperate.
“please, sukuna,” she whimpers, “i need more.”
the occasional breathy moan from her he could tolerate. those were easy enough to distort into something that sounded more like you if he let his imagination do the work. it was when she made herself known that he had a problem.
“shut up,” he growls lowly into her mound, halting his movements. the sound of the woman’s voice threatened to break his carefully crafted immersion, and he wasn’t about to get off to her whiny uh-uh-uhs. but he knows it’s not exactly fair to her the way he’s using her. and so sukuna lightly sucks her clit one last time, a parting kiss goodbye. he moves up to hover over the woman’s body, face-to-face.
sukuna definitely knows how to pick them – she’s absolutely stunning. soft caramel eyes staring up at him in a frown, full lips puckered into a pout, begging for a kiss. A carefully-manicured hand reaches up behind his head to wrap around soft tuffs of hair, pulling him down to take it from him. and despite it feeling so wrong, he lets her.
he closes his eyes and lulls his imagination back into his comfort zone. he lets himself indulge in the feel of this woman’s mouth on his, and immediately starts making comparisons to something he’s never felt before. would your lips be softer, melting between his own like candy under the sun? or would they be rougher, urging him to run his tongue along your lips and mold them against his own? either way, sukuna shudders in excitement.
he’d be so gentle with you at first. wouldn’t want to overwhelm his perfect girl by immediately sticking his tongue down your throat, or worse, make you think he was just chasing some fleeting carnal pleasure by using your body. no, that kind of detachment was left to the other women that occupied his bed, the ones who barely knew his first name while you knew him well enough to mistake your place in his heart for friendship.
he is the first to pull away. a part of him urges himself to go back, to savor the phantom feeling of your lips on his, to consume you with kisses even if it's just through a proxy. the other part of him won’t be satisfied so easily. sukuna doesn’t spare the woman another glance as he lowers himself to comfortably rest his face into the crook of her neck, closing his eyes. he couldn’t bare to look at her too long, for if he did, the differences between you and her become too apparent to ignore and his illusion would shatter. his lips make searing contact with her right jugular as his hand trails down her body. fingers dance senselessly down her navel, playing with the band of the woman’s red, lacy thong.
sukuna is hit with another memory: it's been two months since he got a glimpse of your cute little panties under your skirt. not on purpose, unfortunately, but because of your own naivety of thinking that he saw you only as a friend. he loved how stubborn you were that day – you held your ground on changing out your bedroom lightbulbs on your own despite how much he rolled his eyes. ‘brat. I’m taller than you. let me handle it.’ but instead you huffed and lightly flicked his forehead, demanding he bring you a ladder with a playful smirk, which he recorded in his core memories. and so, you settled the ladder in its place, demanded sukuna hold it steady for you, and started the climb up one step at a time.
because of your obstinacy, sukuna was closer than he had ever been to your most intimate area. to he didn't mean to peek, and by no means was he trying to push past any unspoken boundaries by looking without your knowledge, but the temptation was too strong when you were right there, only a few inches from his face. his head remained steady as his eyes shifted up, and after carefully confirming that your own gaze was fixed on the task at hand, he dared to look.
only to be met with some damned light gray cotton panties with a baby pink lace trim. sukuna had to bite his lip to stifle a groan that threatened to roll out of his throat. you were so seductive without even trying, which made it much more erotic. did you really feel this comfortable around him? did you trust him this much that you made no covert attempt at decency? surely you were trying to give him a sign that you felt the same – that you also dreamt about tangled limbs in tangled sheets and unimaginable pleasure with your best friend. you had practically served yourself up on a silver platter just for him.
‘but what if you hadn't meant to?’
“sukunaaaa, do something!” a whiny voice brings him back to the present.
“what’s wrong?” his eyebrows furrow.
“you just keep rubbing over my panties,” she huffs and cradles his head tighter with both hands. “I wanna feel your fingers inside me too…”
sukuna has to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at her. he hadn't even noticed he'd stalled for so long while deep in thought until she said something. so instead of barking at her again, he softly sighs and opts to lazily kiss along her neck while mumbling an ‘i’m sorry, baby’.
sukuna knows it’s not her fault he's such a coward that he’d rather imagine other women are you than tell you just how deeply he feels for you. so for now, he’ll be nice and give her what she wants.
after shifting the thin lacey material to the side, his hand traces over her dripping opening in wide circles. not too long that she has a chance to get impatient again, just enough to coat three fingers in glossy slick. with one last weakened press to her clit, sukuna dips two fingers inside, immediately curving into that special bump that has the woman gasping and whining at the surge of satisfying pleasure.
pretending it's you is easy. he starts drowning out her cries by morphing them into something similar to you. he thinks back to those innocent moments when he's scratched your scalp or given you a back rub; the noises that escaped your mouth in a different kind of pleasure, enough to fan the flames in his loins. sukuna shudders and lets out a breathy groan of his own.
but then, the woman lets out a noise in between a giggle and a moan, and both the movement of his hand and his concentration falter. his fingers go back at once working in and out of her cunt at a steady pace, but there's less passion in his ministrations than there was just a second ago as he furrows his brow. his eyes flicker open and stare at her neck.
sukuna knows your laugh better than anyone in your life. he's memorized the crinkle in your eye, the curve of your lips, and the breath you take after chuckling at one of his stupid jokes. no, you wouldn't sound like that, wouldn't sound like her.
the thought comes unwanted, but sukuna shoves it aside with quickness. his eyes close once more and he reaches for traces of you: for the perfume clinging to the sheets, for the memory of your voice softened by sleep, for every innocent sound he's collected over years and repressed into something less than so.
‘there we go. much better.’
the bedroom echoes with squelches from fingers going in and out, relentlessly bullying her g-spot. her moans pick up with another curl of his fingers and the cry the woman lets out is so erotic that it almost seems rehearsed. she's so close to cumming. sukuna can tell by the wetness coating his knuckles and the fluttering of her pussy as it demands ‘more, more!’. he gives in to her pleas and circles his thumb over her sensitive numb with practiced pressure.
“I'm cumming! sukunaaaa!”
sukuna's picks up his head with eyes shooting open and he catches a sight other men would salivate at: her back arched and toes curled, eyebrows knitted together and mouth making a perfectly round ‘O’. her breasts are still out in display, rising and falling in short, ragged breaths.
but it somehow isn't enough for him. it feels wrong in a way that he can't immediately put his finger on, some strange discomfort settling heavy in his gut where desire had been only moments ago.
sukuna gets up and leaves her with the excuse that he's got somewhere to be and needs to get clean up. he grabs a pair of tissues from the nightstand, wiping away at his fingers as he walks off to the adjoining bathroom. contrast to earlier, the only sound filling his ears is the stream of water from the faucet, cold fluid running down his hands. sukuna looks down at his jeans where the prominent tent in his boxers was a few moments ago.
despite how hard he had just made this woman cum, his dick couldn't be softer. she was suddenly everywhere; in the sound of his name still ringing in his ears and in the shade of those eyes that he couldn't will away from his mind. up until now, sukuna had been able to look at her and see whatever he wanted. now he could only see her actual face.
he realized that no amount of perfume or delusion could cover up the fact that she wasn't you. you wouldn't say his name like that. or maybe you would? fuck—he doesn't know anymore.
reality starts sinking its claws into his perfectly-curated fantasies as he washes his hands. he doesn’t actually know what sounds you'd make when you couldn't hold them back anymore. doesn’t know how your face would twist when the pleasure became too much, whether your brows would pinch together like hers or your eyes would squeeze shut or you'd hide your face because you'd always been so fucking easy to embarrass.
sukuna rips the towel from the hook and walks back to lean on the doorframe of the bathroom for one last look at this night's conquest. she's throwing her minidress back on and lazily putting her hair up, too content with her orgasm to care about fixing it back in place. as he dries his hands, he can't help but feel the shame that starts pooling deep in his stomach.
“maybe I'll see you around?” she turns to him and winks with a soft smile. she giggles at the grunt he returns and goes back to dealing with her black stilettos.
head still leaning on the doorframe, sukuna closes his eyes which only makes things worse because there you are again.
not the version of you he'd spent the better part of tonight inventing, the one he'd constructed from perfume and wishful thinking and another woman's body. just you.
just you smiling at him from across some half-forgotten afternoon, chin propped lazily in your palm as you laugh at something stupid he'd said. your eyes crinkling at the corners and your foot nudging his beneath the table without a second thought. something you'd probably forgotten by the next day and he, apparently, had not.
his eyes open again, and the woman is still there.
still not you.
she leaves ten minutes later and sukuna doesn’t ask for her number. he doesn't need to. his phone is already lighting up on the nightstand with a name he's had memorized since he was too young to understand it would someday ache his chest to see.
you: hey!! breakfast tomorrow??
sukuna stares at the message and then at the empty bed. fucking pathetic.
sukuna: usual place?
your answer comes almost immediately.
you: obviously 🙄
and despite everything, the corner of his mouth twitches upward. because tomorrow morning, he'd sit across from you. you'd steal something off his plate without asking and he would tell you to fuck off while pushing the rest toward you anyway. you'd smile at him, he'd pretend that was enough.
apparently, he'd gotten very fucking good at pretending.
