ㅤA SMUT WRITER'S RESOURCE — smut vocabulary, ideas per sex act, kinks list, etc.
ㅤI originally made this to be a resource for myself whenever I felt out of practice writing smut, but I thought it might be helpful for other writers who may be new to writing smut/feeling uninspired/translating from another language.
ㅤSometimes I've felt awkward or have cringed about writing smut (especially when I was new to it) but then I realized that sex is art; in all its nasty, sexy, heavenly, gross, glory — sex is art and a beautiful part of life. So after that I just let myself write freely without feeling ashamed.
ㅤWith that out of the way, I present to you my fundamental list of smut writing essentials. Hope it helps you even if it's just to find a word you're looking for.
ACTS — breast play, dry humping, heavy petting, hickey-giving, grinding, lap dance, body worship, massaging, kissing/make-out, sexting, reading smut, mutual masturbation, bathing/showering together
VISUALS — Saliva/(pre)cum rolling down chin/neck, jerking what can't fit, making out with... (cockhead, shaft, balls, clit, etc.), cheek bulging with cock, hollowing out cheeks while sucking harder, rolling eyes back in ecstasy, tasting them, pulling in for a dirty kiss afterwards, juices smeared across cheek, lips glistening with slick
DEEPTHROATING — watery/glossy/dewy eyes, choked up, throat constricting, throating the length, tip prodding the back of the throat, choking, gagging, spluttering, coughing, gasping for air, using hair as a handle to control how much is taken, headrush when coming off for air, being held down on it, feeling bulge in throat
CUNNILINGUS — buttery soft tongue sweeping circles, flicking, nipping and kissing at clit, sinking inside, wriggling around, feasting on pussy, thumbing clit while tongue-fucking, curling against sweet spot, lapping at slit/folds, long strokes, squirting on their face
VISUALS — wetting palm/slicking fingers with juices, stroking at g-spot with fingertip, stroking his length, grazing fingertips down, eye contact as they ruin you with their handiwork
FINGERING — warming up with teasing, working at the clit simultaneously, using their whole arm, tensing their biceps the more they exert pressure, switching up techniques (stroking back and forth, sweeping/massaging circles, 'come hither'), curling fingers inside, sucking/tasting sweet slick off fingers
JERKING — cock hanging heavy or drooping from its weight, jumping in anticipation to be touched, throbbing hot in palm of hand, wielding at the base, brisk/quick or languid/slow strokes, balls jiggling each time wrist meets the base
VISUALS — the skin of the base of a cock wrinkling up when bottoming out, getting balls deep, skin sticking/slapping against skin, sweat dripping down, balls tightening up and muscles flexing (when a cock is about to cum), abs flexing, leaky cockheads and sticky precum oozing, splitting open hole on a big cock and watching it stretch into a wide O shape to accommodate its girth, holes twitching and spasming like they're aching to be touched or are overstimulated or have just orgasmed, heavy-hitting thrusts or short, quick strokes and which spots the tip is rubbing against, giving it to you/taking it/letting you have it, blissing out/pulling a lewd face/feeling high off an orgasm and rolling your eyes back, hissing through gritted teeth when it feels too good, the way your ankle wobbles over a shoulder in certain positions while getting pounded into, wet sounds getting sloppier/getting wetter and sweatier the longer it goes on, being splayed/trapped underneath them, letting you feel the stretch
SEX TYPES — hate sex, car sex, gentle/rough sex, phone/cybersex, shower sex, (un)protected sex
POSITIONS — mating press, doggystyle, spooning, cowgirl (riding), prone bone, holding ankles, standing, against wall, standing in front of mirror, pushups on top of you, side split, etc.
DIALOGUE IDEAS — behave, do as i say, watch that attitude of yours, let me guide you, watch me fuck you, don't take your eyes off me or I'll stop, use your words, on your knees, open wide, you love it don't you? filthy slut, don't hide your face, let it all out on me, fuck me like you mean it, all for me?, dirty mind you've got there, need me to take care of you?, just like that, you take it so well, then come and get it, you like that huh?, i know you're into it, cum with me, say my name, who's fucking you this good?, can't resist you, irresistible little slut, take it, spread your legs for me, try a little harder for me
SWEET PET NAMES — baby, bambi, angel, darling, bunny, doll, babydoll, sweetheart, butterfly, good girl/boy, little Aphrodite, goddess, baby girl/boy
VULGAR PET NAMES — (nasty, dirty) slut, whore, bitch, toy
VISUALS — ropes of cum, trickling down the shaft to the balls, balls tightening/tensing during release, squirting, creaming/gushing all over cock/hands/toy/etc., shuddering or caving into yourself, buildup to an orgasm being stronger or weaker, stopping or not stopping until their orgasm is over, creampie dribbling out hole
ORGASM TYPES — clitoral, vaginal, cervical, blended, hands-free, cumshot/facial, in panties, etc.
VOCABULARY — let me have you, can we...?, is it alright?, unless you don't want to, do you like it?, go faster/slower, let's take a break, are you okay (in the middle or after an act), can you take it?, is your jaw not sore like this?
AFTERCARE IDEAS — getting cleaned up together (bath, shower), carrying you, pillow talk, cuddling, having food, giving water, massaging numb/sore/tired parts, soothing bite/hit marks, brushing hair out of face, kissing forehead, praising for taking it so well, helping put clothes back on, making jokes, petting hair, telling you how much they love you, confessing their feelings
• genre: smut, married au (not related to jjk lore)
• content warning: mdni (minors do not interact), explicit sexual content, degradation kink, heavy profanity and explicit insults throughout, rough/aggressive sex all in all, this is very toxic (given naoya is here, it’s toxic by default)
Ten years.
That’s how long you’ve been legally tied to Naoya Zenin.
He is a lot of things: a narcissist, a misogynist, and a man who definitely spends more time on his hair than he does on his personality.
But for a decade, your arrangement was simple. You lived like ghosts: no touches, no "how was your day," and certainly no shared bed. The only time your lips ever met was at the altar on your wedding day.
You were vibrant everywhere else. You were the life of the party, the girl with the sharpest wit and the loudest laugh— except when you crossed the hallways of the Zenin estate.
Around him, you were a stone— a statue.
The Zenin elders love their tradition, which is basically code for sitting in a room, having dinner all together. But tonight, Toji was there. And God, Toji was a breath of fresh air in a room full of stale, ego-inflated assholes.
He didn’t care about your "rank” or label. When you made a dry comment about the soup, he barked out a laugh and fired back a rebuttal that actually had you giggling.
Across the table, Naoya looked like he had swallowed a bag of lemons. His knuckles were white, his eyes darting between you and the cousin he both worshipped and envied.
The front door hadn't even fully clicked shut behind the last guest before the air in the foyer turned toxic.
Naoya was leaning against a pillar while he looked at you with that arrogant grin, but his eyes were twitching.
"You looked like a desperate little bitch tonight," he spat. "Giggling at Toji’s every word? It was embarrassing. Have some fucking dignity, even if you aren't a real Zenin."
You stopped mid-step. Usually, you’d just walk past him. But tonight?
Tonight, the ten years of repressed bullshit finally boiled over.
"Dignity?" You turned. "You’re talking to me about dignity? You spent the whole night staring at Toji like a kicked puppy wanting its master’s attention. It’s pathetic, Naoya."
His grin vanished. He stepped into your space, trying to intimidate you. "Watch your mouth. You’re lucky I even let you keep that last name."
"Oh, fuck your last name!" You snapped, the volume of your voice echoed through the silent halls. "You’ve spent a decade acting like I’m beneath you, like I’m some fucking piece of furniture. Then the second I have a human conversation with a man who isn't a total prick, you lose your mind? What is it, Naoya? Are you mad I’m talking to him, or are you just mad he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be?"
The silence that followed was heavy. Naoya’s face went through shock, fury, and something that looked like wounded pride.
"Go to hell," he hissed.
"I’ve been in hell for ten years, darling. I’m going for a drink."
You didn't pack a bag. You grabbed your keys, shoved past him, deliberately clipping his shoulder, and marched out the door.
As you tore down the driveway in your car, your heart was hammering against your ribs. You pulled out your phone and hit the group chat.
Behind you, in that big, cold house, Naoya Zenin stood in the foyer, staring at the closed door.
He told himself he didn't care.
He told himself you were just a tool, a nuisance. But as he looked at the spot where you had just stood, his chest felt tight.
It wasn't love. Naoya didn't know how to do that.
But it was a possessive, ugly jealousy that was currently eating him alive. And for the first time in a decade, the house felt way too fucking quiet.
By the time you were four or more shots deep into the "I Hate My Husband" cocktail menu, the world had turned blurry. Then the air in the bar shifted. It got more annoying somehow? Like a devil stepped on it.
Naoya stood at the entrance— well, yes, a devil indeed stepped inside the bar.
He immediately spotted you slumped over the mahogany bar, took one look at your messy hair and flushed face, then his jaw tightened so hard.
"Get up," he commanded as he reached for your arm. "You’re making a fucking scene."
"Oh look! It's the my fucking husband!" You chirped, swaying as you stood. You shoved his hand away. "Go away, Naoya. Go polish your ego or whatever the fuck you do at night."
He managed to pour you into the passenger seat of his car, but he couldn't pour you into silence. As he was driving, you were practically singing insults to him. Cause what? Being drunk is a good excuse, you can be as HONEST as you can because you’re under the influence of alcohol. Smart, right?
"You think you’re so special because you can move fast?" You slurred, gesturing wildly at the dashboard. "You’re just a fast-moving asshole. Toji doesn't even have a cursed technique and he still makes you look like a background character. A background character, Naoya!"
"Shut your mouth before I shut it for you," Naoya hissed, knuckles white on the steering wheel. The mention of Toji was like pouring salt in an open wound. "You’re drunk and pathetic. It’s embarrassing that I’m even seen with you."
"Then don’t be! Leave me at the bar! Leave me on the side of the road!" You shouted, kicking the floor mat. "You’re just a fragile little boy. Does it hurt? Does it hurt that even when I’m wasted, I’d rather talk to a wall than you?"
"I said shut up!" Naoya roared, the car swerving slightly as his composure finally snapped. "You don't know shit! You're a trophy that doesn't even look good on the shelf anymore!"
"I'm not a trophy, I'm a person! A person who fucking hates you!"
When the car stopped in the Zenin driveway, you refused to move. You gripped the door so hard. "I'm not going in. I’m sleeping in the garden. At least the dirt is more welcoming than you."
"Like hell you are."
Naoya didn't negotiate. He stormed around the car, ripped the door open, and unbuckled you. Before you could process it, he grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you over his shoulder.
"Put me down, you bastard!" You screamed, your fists drumming against his back. You wiggled violently, your legs kicking the air. "Let me go! I’ll bite you! I swear to God, Naoya, I will bite your shoulder!"
"Try it and see what happens," he growled as his hand gripped the back of your thighs.
He marched toward the sliding doors, ignoring your muffled curses and the way your dress was riding up.
He didn't drop you until he reached the center of his own room, the room you never entered. He tossed you onto the tatami mats, hovering over you, chest heaving.
"You're an embarrassment," he panted, as his eyes bored into yours.
"And you're a fucking loser," you wheezed back, looking up at him with glassy eyes.
The morning sun filtered through Naoya’s room, mocking you with its brightness.
You were sprawled on his futon. the first time in a decade you’d ever been in his bed.
Naoya was already up. He was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, looking infuriatingly put-together in a black yukata. His eyes were cold, tracking you as you sat up and clutched your pounding head.
"Finally awake," he drawled. "Do you have any idea the amount of shit I’m going to have to clean up because of your little performance last night? The servants are already whispering."
You squinted at him, the memories of the car ride, the screaming, the insults, the way he’d hauled you over his shoulder— hit you. But you didn't feel guilty. You felt light.
"Let them whisper," you said.
You stood up, swaying only slightly. "I didn't do anything wrong, Naoya."
"You embarrassed me," he hissed, stepping closer. "You disrespected me in front of the family, and then you acted like a common whore at a bar."
"Oh, shut the fuck up," you snapped, waving a hand dismissively. "I’m done with the lectures. I’m done with the cold glares. I’m done with you. I want a divorce."
The word made Naoya’s face go pale for a split second before a dark, ugly sneer twisted his features. He let out a sharp, mocking laugh that didn't sound nearly as confident as he wanted it to.
"A divorce? You think it’s that easy?" He took two long strides, invading your space. "What’s the real reason? Is this about last night? Is it because you want to go fuck my cousin instead? Is that it? You’ve been salivating over Toji since he walked in."
You looked him dead in the eye.
"Honestly, Naoya? Yeah," you whispered. "Maybe I do. Because let’s be real—Toji probably has a bigger dick than your entire personality. And it’s definitely bigger than whatever you’ve been hiding under that yukata for ten years."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Naoya’s jaw dropped, his ego not just "tampered with" but shattered into a million jagged pieces. He looked like he wanted to scream, or maybe choke you, or maybe, for the first time in his life, admit that he was terrified of you actually leaving.
"You... you low-class—"
"Save it," you interrupted, walking toward the door without looking back. "I’ll have the papers sent. Try to sign them without crying too hard."
—--
You turned for the door, but Naoya was faster. He moved way faster, immediately slamming his palm against the frame to block your exit.
"I’m not fucking done with you!" He roared angrily. "You don't get to say something like that to me and then just walk out. You don't get the last word!"
"Get out of my way, Naoya!" You shoved his chest with both hands, fueled by a decade of held back rage.
You lunged at him, trying to physically plow through him.
It was a mess.
You grabbed his collar and he grabbed your waist to steady himself, but his heel caught on the edge of the raised tatami— making his balance snap. He went down hard, and because you were still tightly fisting his yukata, you went right down with him.
The air left his lungs as he hit the futon. You landed squarely on top of him, your knees bracketed around his hips, and your chest heaving against his.
For a long, agonizing minute, the only sound in the room was the ragged rhythm of your breathing. The anger was still there, but it was momentarily forgotten by the sudden body contact with each other. Naoya’s hands were still gripped tight on your waist, fingers digging into your skin like he was afraid you’d run away if he let go.
You looked down at him. His hair was a mess, messy across the pillow, and his dark eyes were wide.
Slowly, you reached up. You didn't slap him. Instead, you let your hands roam over his face. Your thumbs traced his jawline, then moved up to squeeze his cheeks—hard. You gripped his face, hoping this small move could break this man.
"You have such a pretty face, Naoya," you whispered. You leaned down until your lips were inches from his ear, he flinched a little— tickled by your hot breath as you continued to whisper. "You really are a beautiful, arrogant little god, aren't you?"
He let out a shaky breath, his grip on your waist tightened until it almost hurt.
"But your mouth..." you continued, your fingers dug into his skin as you forced him to look at you. "If you could have just learned how to shut that fucking mouth for five minutes over the last ten years... if you weren't such a pathetic, insecure prick..."
You felt his heart hammering against your chest. You couldn’t tell if his rage is being fueled by what you said or if he is finally showing signs of liking his wife all along.
"I would have loved to fuck you," you breathed, watching his pupils dilate. "I would have let you do whatever you wanted. But you just couldn't stop talking, could you?"
You felt him shiver underneath you, a genuine— almost terrifying tremor of desire.
Between the two of you, the agonizing ten years of wasted tension was finally forcing its way out.
Naoya stared up at you, chest rising and falling. For a second, he looked paralyzed by what you’d said. Honestly, he was shook to his core that he’d been so close to having exactly what he wanted, only to realize he’d talked himself out of it for a decade.
"Is that right?" He hissed.
Before you could blink, he moved. In one violent motion, the world spun. The ceiling replaced the floor, and you were slammed back into the futon with the weight of him pinning you down.
He bracketed your arms above your head, squeezing your wrists against the mat. His hair was completely wrecked, and the “i-don’t-care-about-my-wife” mask had finally cracked, revealing a man who was starving for the very person he’d spent years insulting.
"You think you’re the only one who’s been holding back?" Naoya growled, face inches from yours. He mimicked your earlier gesture, one hand leaving your wrist to grip your face, his thumb pressed firmly into your lower lip. "You want me to shut my mouth? Fine."
He leaned down, until his forehead was pressed against yours.
"You spend ten years acting like a statue, then you come alive for him? For Toji?" His voice dropped, it sounds suspiciously calm now. "I’m the one you’re married to. I’m the one who owns this house. And if you think I’m going to let you walk out of here after telling me you’d rather fuck him than me, you’re more delusional than I thought."
He shifted his weight, pressing his lower body firmly against yours, making sure you felt exactly how much your "bigger dick" comment had affected him.
His eyes were burning, not even trying to be subtle with the desperate hunger in there that he couldn't hide behind a rebuttal.
"I don't need to say a fucking word to show you how wrong you are," he muttered against your skin.
He wasn't grinning anymore. But instead of breaking, you started to laugh.
It wasn't a sweet giggle or a nervous titter; it was a loud, mocking cackle that bubbled up from your chest and hit him right in the face. You looked up at him and all you saw was a pathetic, blonde boy playing dress-up in his father’s authority.
"Oh my God," you wheezed. "You really are that insecure, aren't you? You're literally vibrating because I mentioned someone else's name. Ten years of 'I don't care about you,' and one mention of Toji has you acting like a territorial stray dog. It’s fucking hilarious, Naoya."
His grip on your wrists tightened until the skin bruised. "You think this is a joke? You think I’m some comedy act for you to laugh at?"
"I think you're the punchline," you shot back. "You're so obsessed with being the best, but you’re terrified that in the one place it actually matters, you’re just nothing."
That was the final straw.
Naoya didn't have a witty rebuttal left.
He didn't have a condescending remark. He just had rage.
He was so fucking done with how much you’d tethered with his ego that he lunged down, crashing his mouth against yours for a bruising and desperate kiss. An attempt to reclaim an authority he is not sure he had over you in the first place.
"Shut up," he growled against your mouth between wet and messy stabs of his tongue. "You’re a brat. You’re a loud-mouthed, ungrateful bitch who doesn't know her place."
You didn't pull away. You didn't even try to escape.
You rolled your eyes from the sensation and almost wanted to punch yourself for getting hypnoticed by that move.
But you didn’t let him just have his way through it. You freed one hand from his loosened grip and slammed it against the back of his neck, letting your fingers dig into his scalp, pulling him closer as you fought for dominance in the kiss.
You broke away for just a second, trying to gasp for air. "Is that the best you’ve got? You kiss so fucking bad, Naoya. Slow down, you're embarrassing yourself again."
"I’ll kill you," he whispered, though his hands were wandering down your sides with a shaky hunger that suggested he’d much rather do the opposite.
"Do it then," you challenged with a feral grin splitting your face as you pulled his head back down by his hair. "But we both know you'd rather have me stay and hate you than be alone with your own shitty ego. You're a fucking loser, Naoya."
You bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, and for the first time in a decade, the silence of the Zenin estate was replaced by the sound of two people finally tearing each other apart.
This wasn't a love story; it was a fucking exorcism.
Naoya was usually so calculated, but now his fingers were trembling as he shoved the fabric of your dress down your shoulders.
"You're so fucking pathetic," you gasped, back arching off the futon as he bit a trail of fiery kisses down your neck. "Look at you. The great Naoya Zenin, reduced to a desperate dog because I bruised his tiny ego. Does it hurt, Naoya? Knowing you’re only touching me because you’re scared I’ll find someone better?"
"Shut your fucking mouth," he snarled. He hooked his fingers into your underwear and yanked them down, his immediate eyes scanned your body. "You talk so much shit for someone whose heart is beating out of her chest right now. You’re just as desperate as I am. You've been starving for this for ten years, you ungrateful bitch."
He pressed his weight into you with his hard and lean body, pinning yours into the mats. He started to grind against you, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. He wasn't even inside you yet, but the friction of his clothed dick against your bare pussy had you let out a sharp, involuntary moan.
"Oh, did that get you?" He mocked with a grin returning to his face as he watched your eyes cloud over.
"In your dreams," you hissed. You reached down, diving beneath the folds of his yukata.
You found him immediately. His dick is stiff, pulsing, and undeniably ready. You wrapped your fingers around the length of him, and gave him a firm, possessive stroke that made his entire body go rigid. "Look at this. Look how hard you are just because I told you you’re a loser. You’re a fucking masochist, Naoya. You love that I hate you."
Naoya’s head fell back, and a strangled groan escaped his throat as you moved your hand up and down faster, your thumb circling the tip at the same time.
"I'm going to... I'm going to break you," he panted.
"Try it," you challenged.
He didn't wait. He shoved your hand away and forced his way between your thighs, his fingers diving into your pussy without warning. You were already wet— a fact he didn't hesitate to point out with a mocking laugh.
"Look at this," he whispered, while his three fingers worked you with a fast-paced in and out. "You’re soaking for me. All that talk about Toji, and here you are, falling apart because I touched you. You’re a liar, and a fucking mess."
"And you’re still... a fucking prick," you managed to choke out, your fingers digging into his shoulders, leaving deep red scratches on his skin.
You were sick of looking at his smug, judgmental face while he worked his fingers inside you.
You wanted to humiliate him as much as he wanted to dominate you. So, you grabbed his hair and shoved him down. You didn't just pull him toward your body suddenly, forcing him back against the pillows so you could straddle his head.
"You want to talk so much, Naoya? Use that mouth for something useful instead of just spewing bullshit," you hissed, slamming your pussy down onto his face.
The weight of you forced his head into the futon.
He let out a muffled sound against your thigh while his hands came up to grip your hips. He tried to pull away, because his ego was clearly reeling from the sudden shift in power, but you leaned forward, tangling your fingers in his hair, pinning him there.
"Don't move," you commanded. "Eat. Since you’re so obsessed with being a 'master' of everything, show me how good you really are."
Naoya’s pride must have been screaming, but his body was a traitor.
After a second of tense resistance, you felt his tongue swipe against you, filled with a desperate need to prove himself. He wasn't being gentle. He was eating you out, making his tongue work with the same aggressive speed he used in a fight.
"Fuck," you gasped, as your head fall back. "Is that... is that the Zenin technique? Just being a persistent little dog?"
He let out a growl against your skin, flicking his tongue harder and his teeth grazing your clit in a way that made your vision go white. He looked up at you from between your legs.
"You’re a failure, Naoya," you moaned, pulling him by the hair even tighter against you. "Ten years... ten years and you finally... oh god... you finally shut the fuck up."
He bit your inner thigh, before going back to work on your clit. He was determined to make you scream his name, to make you take back every insult you’d ever throw at his head.
You were both vibrating with hatred. And your insults turned into broken moans as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge.
"Still... a loser," you managed to wheeze out, even as your hips began to buck uncontrollably against his mouth. "Still... just a... god, fuck."
He didn't stop until you were shaking, your body arched in a violent climax that left you slumped over him.
The moment you stopped shaking, Naoya didn't give you a second to breathe. He grabbed your waist and flipped you back onto the futon so fast. He was hovering over you, and his yukata was already discarded. You looked down momentarily and now his dick looked thick and angry, pulsing with the same rage that was written all over his face.
"My turn to make you shut up," he growled.
He didn't ease into it. He grabbed your knees and shoved them back toward your shoulders, pinning you in a brutal mating press that left you completely exposed and vulnerable.
He lunged forward, burying the full, thick length of his dick into your pussy in one unapologetic thrust.
"Fuck!" You screamed, as your internal walls stretched to accommodate him. "You—you arrogant bastard!"
"Yeah, keep screaming," Naoya hissed as he began to slam into you. Each thrust was heavy,his balls slapping against your ass too because of the force. "Tell me again how Toji’s dick is bigger while I’m stretching you out like this. Tell me while I’m fucking the soul out of you."
You reached up, nails digging into the muscles of his chest, carving red scratches through his skin. You grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled his head down. "You’re still... a pathetic prick, Naoya! You're only hitting it this hard because you're insecure! Is this all you have??"
"I'll show you speed, you bitch," he snarled, sure enough his pace became frantic and punishing.
He was bottoming out with every stroke, his dick was hitting your cervix with a force that made your breasts bounce. He reached down, gripping your throat, to remind you exactly who was on top.
"Look at you," he panted. "Ten years of acting like a saint, and now you’re under me, taking my dick and begging for more. Your pussy is so tight, it’s like it was waiting for me to finally claim and fuck it."
"Claim and fuck it? Ah!" You wheezed, even as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him deeper. Your body was betraying every word out of your mouth. "You’re just—ah!—you’re just a man I’m using to get off!"
"Keep lying to yourself," Naoya groaned. He started to grind his hips against yours at the deepest point of the thrust, his dick was twitching inside your, not even calming down even after several balls deep thrusts. "You love this. You love that I’m the one inside you. Say my name. Say it, or I’ll stop right fucking now."
"Go to hell, Naoya!" You shouted, but your hands moved to his ass, pulling him back in every time he tried to withdraw.
"Say it!" He roared, slamming into you one last time.
The friction was unbearable, the feeling of his thick cock filling you up while you both threw insults and hate at each other made the climax hit harder. You screamed his name in an angry outburst, as he came deep inside you. His body shook with the force of his release, pinning you into the mat.
The sun was high now, but neither of you had moved.
Naoya was still pinned deep inside you and the room was reeking with the smell of sex and the absolute destruction of your decade-long cold war.
Just as Naoya started to pull out, a very sophisticated tapping echoed from the sliding paper doors.
"Master Naoya?" A servant’s voice called out, muffled but clear. "The elders have requested your presence in the courtyard for the morning briefing. They’ve been waiting for twenty minutes."
Naoya froze. Then scrambled to his knees, his face went pale as he tried to look for his discarded yukata. He looked desperate to maintain the facade of a cold clan leader without even realizing he was currently covered in your nail marks and hickeys.
"I will be there shortly," Naoya called out. He glared down at you. "Tell them I was—"
You looked at his panicked, arrogant face and felt a surge of pure, chaotic evil.
"Oh, Naoya!" You wailed, purposely shouting your voice loud enough to carry through the entire wing of the estate. You arched your back, grabbing the headboard and letting out a long moan that sounded like you were being split in half. "Don't stop now! Fuck, you're so deep!"
Naoya’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull. He lunged forward, his hand immediately diving to cover your mouth, but you bit his palm hard as a muffled laughter bubble in your throat.
"Is everything alright, Young Master?" The servant asked, their voices trembling with awkward realization.
"Everything is fine!" Naoya hissed through gritted teeth.
You didn't stop. You reached up, grabbed his shoulders, and pulled him back down into you, ,making your hips buck up to meet him with an unmistakable slap.
"God, Naoya! You're so much better than your cousin!" You screamed, making sure to project your voice right at the door. "Fuck me harder, you blonde prick!"
Outside, you heard the sound of the servant’s footsteps practically sprinting away in pure terror.
Naoya looked like he wanted to melt into the tatami and die. His image was currently being dragged through the dirt by the woman he’d spent ten years ignoring.
"You fucking bitch," he whispered, though he didn't pull away. In fact, seeing him so humiliated, so completely stripped of his dignity, was the biggest turn-on yet.
He looked down at you with a mix of genuine hatred and burning lust in his eyes, and realized he was trapped.
"What's the matter, Master Zenin?" You smirked, pulling his head down by his earlobes until your lips brushed his. "Afraid the elders will find out you’re actually human? Now shut the fuck up and finish what you started. I'm not done ruining your morning."
You and Satoru broke up for a reason, you keep reminding yourself.
But even months later and, ehm… other people later, you find yourself staring at his contact picture, typing and deleting the same message over and over again.
How are you even supposed to break no contact? Is there a good way of reaching out to your ex without coming across as desperate or delusional?
"I miss you" your fingers type.
Delete.
No way you're starting with that – even if it is the truth.
"Hope you're well" …you groan before you even finish typing that one, the little sound of each letter disappearing managing to piss you off even more.
You had heard it enough times already. A monotone soundtrack to every little memory of Satoru, both good and bad, that jumped to your mind without warning the longer you stared at his handsome picture.
It felt ridiculous to miss him that much. You had tried so hard to move on – maybe just to prove a point too. Because otherwise you’d have to admit what he knew all along.
You shouldn’t embarrass yourself like that, you decide with a long sigh, ready to lock the device.
But suddenly – three little dots appear on the screen.
satoru: just send it already i can't take it anymore
Your mouth falls open in a silent gasp, and it takes everything in you to not throw the phone across the room and hide from sheer embarrassment.
Then it pings again.
satoru: hellooo?
Fuck.
Was it too late to change your number and move to a different country?
You sigh, finally typing a message you actually send.
y/n: how long have you been watching the screen
Three dots.
satoru: like 10 minutes
You let out a silent scream, heart hammering in your chest.
This is the worst possible scenario – time to deflect.
y/n: why the hell did you have my chat open anyway
Three dots again…
satoru: princess I've been waiting for this moment for months
Your cheeks heat up with something other than embarrassment this time.
y/n: you're an idiot
You know he’d practically be able to hear your pout through that text. But then–
satoru: that guy you were dating finally fuck up?
You let out a small chuckle at his honesty. And yeah, fuck up was putting it lightly, but you didn't exactly want to get into how every man since Satoru had been a complete disappointment.
You sigh, biting the inside of your cheek to try and force back the smile that tried to form on your lips.
y/n: guess you could say that
Satoru was typing again, three dots appearing and disappearing. Maybe he was the one deleting the messages on the other side now.
You could almost picture him – that wide cheese eating grin, celebrating his prophecy coming true. You hated how right he was about the fact you wouldn't find anyone better than him.
The overly confident bastard he was.
But the message you received wasn't smug at all. If anything, it made your heart ache with that familiar comfort no one but him seemed able to give you.
satoru: did he hurt you?
You felt a tightness in your throat as you typed out a yes. It's not like you were ever in love with the guy – you hadn't really been in love with anyone since, well… since the man you were texting right now.
White haired, blue eyed, handsome Satoru Gojo, shining so bright he overshadowed everyone in his wake, including you.
But how could anyone else even compare?
satoru: are you ok?
You bite your lower lip, reading and rereading his text. Yes that guy proved to be an asshole, but what was really making your chest hurt wasn't that short lived situationship – it was how much you missed Satoru.
Missed his stupid jokes. Missed the way he'd easily pick you up and place kisses all over your face. Missed cuddling on cold nights, laughing at the dumb movie he chose, baking cookies for lunch when his adorable pout convinced you it was healthy.
What was the use of lying, anyway?
y/n: i just really miss you
There. You finally admitted the truth you had been trying to conceal for months now.
And his response came so fast you wondered how his thumbs could type so quickly.
satoru: ill be there in 10
You laugh – Satoru easily lives a half an hour away, but you fully believe him.
How did you ever think you’d get over Satoru Gojo?
(important) DO NOT MESSAGE YOUR EX – unless he is satoru gojo, of course
summary ✧.* gojo satoru, he was the sunshine in the school, bright, loud and most importantly everyone wanted him, but you? you were the shadow, quiet, a few friends and mostly known for your grades and always being the top of your classes. one night your friend decided to drag you to a house party after scoring all your assignments 100%, you didn’t have a choice to back out — so what happens when the sunshine sees you from across the room and wants to get to know you?
contents! ✧.* slow burn, college au, fluff, he falls first but reader falls harder, opposites attract, introverted reader, slight nsfw content, hurt/comfort, y/n will not be mentioned, 2000’s rom com type of story, drugs and alcohol mentioned, heavy miscommunication.
CHAPTERS ┊ ˚➶ ｡˚ ☁️
almost, but not quite
₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧ want to see more of ‘drive me crazy’ ? don’t worry i got you, check out the pinterest board here!
DRIVE ME CRAZY PLAYLIST •°. *࿐
author’s notes: i’m so excited to start writing! i’m still getting used to tumblr so please don’t mind anything i’ve done wrong 😔.
also i haven’t written since 2024 so PLEASE don’t mind my grammar or spelling, i will try my best to make sense in the stuff i write ahaha. ANYWAYS, i hope you guys are excited as much as i am! lmk if you wanna be added to tag list , which ill try figure out how to do.
❚❙❘ ⠀⠀┆ ׅ ⠀⠀ SYNOPSIS: why is it that he always shows up exactly when you’re trying to forget him? parties? he always find his way towards you, it never fails. some would say it was a situationship, but it way deeper than that. one argument—turned into distance, distance turned into silence. but the thing about you and satoru? you never end, you won’t end. but what happens when you suddenly transfer to his college?
frat!jo’s ur regular hookup, but nerd!kuroo has you distracted every time… you never imagined they’d both share you one night . . mdni.
art by lovebykrkn on tt !
you’ve been hooking up with gojo satoru for months now, ever since that one wild frat party where he cornered you against the kitchen counter with his stupid charming grin and those piercing blue eyes. he’s the president of the frat house, throwing endless parties here and there, the kind of guy who pulls everyone into his orbit without even trying and who probably had fucked the whole girls population in the campus.
and yeah, the sex is good with him -mind-blowing, even, with his endless stamina and the way he knows exactly how to make you finish. but deep down, it’s not him you’re craving.
no, it’s kuroo tetsurou. the hot nerd who somehow manages to be both buried in textbooks and pulling girls left and right.
he’s friends with gojo, weirdly enough - they met through some campus club or whatever, and now they’re inseparable. kuroo’s got that messy black hair that falls just right over his sharp eyes, always wearing those fitted button-ups or hoodies that hug his broad shoulders a little too well for someone who claims to live in the library. he’s got this sly, teasing smile that makes your stomach flip, and unlike gojo’s loud chaos, kuroo’s got this quiet intensity that pulls you in like gravity.
you’ve seen him at parties, leaning against walls with a drink in hand, chatting up whoever catches his eye. girls flock to him, drawn to that mix of brains and brawn - he’s captain of the intramural volleyball team, after all, so he’s toned as hell under those nerdy glasses. but you? you’re stuck in gojo’s bed most nights, pretending his touches are enough while your mind wanders to what kuroo’s hands would feel like.
it starts innocently enough. another friday night, another frat bash at gojo’s place. the house is thumping with bass, bodies pressed together in the living room, smelling like cheap perfume and a little weed. red solo cups spilling everywhere. you show up in a tiny skirt and cute top, hoping maybe kuroo will be there - he usually crashes these things when gojo drags him out of his dorm. and sure enough, you spot him across the room, laughing with a group of girls, his arm slung casually over one’s shoulder. jealousy twists in your gut, but you push it down, grabbing a drink and finding gojo instead.
he’s all over you in seconds, pulling you onto the middle with his hands on your hips, grinding against you to the beat. “missed you, baby,” he murmurs in your ear, breath hot and alcohol-scented. you fake a giggle, letting him spin you around, but your eyes keep darting to kuroo. he catches your gaze once, twice, that smirk playing on his lips like he knows exactly what’s running through your head.
hours blur by in a haze of shots and dancing. gojo’s got you pinned to a wall at one point, kissing you sloppy and deep, his hand sneaking under your skirt in the dark. you moan into his mouth, but .
eventually, the party winds down, people stumbling out or crashing on couches. gojo tugs you upstairs to his room, but he’s drunker than usual, slurring something about how hot you look tonight.
that’s when kuroo appears at the door, knocking lightly. “yo, gojo, you seen my keys? think i left ’em in here earlier.” his voice is casual, but his eyes linger on you, sprawled on gojo’s bed with your skirt hiked up just a bit.
gojo laughs, waving him in. “come find ’em, man. and hey, stick around. we were just gettin’ started.” there’s a glint in his eye, mischievous as always, and you feel your heart race. is he serious? kuroo hesitates for a second, but then he’s stepping inside, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
the air shifts, thick with unspoken tension. gojo pulls you into his lap, nipping at your neck while kuroo pretends to search for his keys on the desk. but you can feel his gaze burning into you, and when gojo notices, he chuckles low. “she’s been eye-fuckin’ you all night, man. don’t think i didn’t notice.”
your cheeks heat up, but kuroo just smirks, leaning against the desk. “that so? didn’t know i was your type, sweetheart.” his voice is teasing, all velvet and promise, and you squirm in gojo’s hold.
gojo’s hands slide up your thighs, spreading them a little. “wanna join? she’s got enough for both of us.” it’s bold, reckless, but that’s gojo for you. and to your surprise - kuroo doesn’t say no. he pushes off the desk, stalking closer, his eyes dark with want.
“only if she wants it,” kuroo says, voice soft but firm, looking right at you. you nod, breath catching, and that’s all it takes.
gojo flips you onto your back on the bed, peeling off your top while kuroo watches, his hand palming himself through his jeans already. “look at her, all needy,” gojo teases, unhooking your bra and tossing it aside. your tits spill out, nipples hardening in the cool air, and kuroo groans softly.
“fuck, you’re gorgeous,” kuroo mutters, climbing onto the bed. he leans down, capturing one nipple in his mouth, sucking slow and deep while gojo works on your skirt, yanking it down with your panties in one go. you’re bare now, exposed, and gojo spreads your legs wide, whistling low.
“so wet already. this for me or him?” gojo asks, fingers tracing your slick folds. you whimper, bucking into his touch, kuroo’s tongue flicking your nipple that makes you gasp at the same time.
“s-shut up,” you manage, and they both chuckle.
kuroo kisses his way down your body, nipping at your skin, while gojo sheds his clothes fast, his cock springing free - long and thick, already leaking pre at the fat tip. he strokes himself lazily, watching as kuroo settles between your thighs. “taste her first, man. she’s sweet as hell.”
kuroo doesn’t need telling twice. he spreads your pussy lips with his thumbs, groaning at the sight of your dripping hole. “look at this pretty cunt,” he murmurs, then dives in, tongue flat and broad as he licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit. you cry out, hands fisting the sheets, and he hums against you, the vibration shooting straight to your core, making your legs quiver.
he eats you out like he’s starved, tongue plunging into your hole, lapping up your juices, then circling your clit with precise flicks. spit drips from his mouth, mixing with your wetness, making everything sloppy and messy. gojo watches, pumping his cock, getting turned on at the sight. then he leans over to kiss you, swallowing your moans. his free hand pinches your nipples, twisting just enough to make you arch.
“feels good, huh?” gojo whispers against your lips. “tetsu’s got a talented mouth.”
you nod frantically, hips grinding against kuroo’s face. he sucks your clit hard, two fingers sliding into your soaking cunt easily, curling to hit that spot that makes you see stars. “oh god, kuroo—” you gasp his name, and he growls, fingering you faster while he continues to eat your pussy out.
gojo smirks, moving to kneel by your head. “open up, pretty. suck me while he makes you cum.”
you obey, mouth watering as you take gojo’s cock in, lips stretching around his girth. he’s thick, hitting the back of your throat as he thrusts gently at first, then deeper. saliva pools in your mouth, dripping down his shaft to your chin, and he groans, hand finding your hair. “good girl.. take it all.”
kuroo’s fingers pump in and out of your hole, slick squealchy sounds filling the room, your pussy clenching around him. he adds a third finger, stretching you, and you moan around gojo’s cock, the vibration making him curse. “fuck, she’s tight. gonna feel so good on my dick.”
you cum hard, shaking, juices gushing over kuroo’s hand and mouth. he laps it all up, not stopping until you’re whimpering from overstimulation. then he pulls back, chin glistening, lips swollen. “sweetest pussy i’ve ever tasted.”
they switch places seamlessly. gojo slides down, lining up his cock with your entrance, while kuroo strips, revealing his toned body - abs rippling, cock hard big and veiny, a bit longer than gojo’s but just as thick. he kneels by your face, tapping his tip against your lips. “your turn, sweetheart.”
gojo pushes in slow, inch by inch, your walls fluttering around him. “still so fuckin’ tight,” he grunts, bottoming out with a sigh. he starts thrusting, deep and steady, his heavy balls slapping against your ass. you wail, taking kuroo into your mouth, sucking sloppily, tongue swirling around his head.
kuroo threads his fingers through your hair, guiding you deeper. “that’s it, baby. choke on it.” spit runs down your chin, mixing with tears as gojo fucks you harder, his cock dragging against your g-spot with every snap of his hips.
“fuuuck— look at her, taking us both like a champ,” gojo pants, hand smacking your ass lightly, leaving a red mark. “gonna fill this pretty pussy up.”
kuroo pulls out of your mouth with a pop, stroking himself as he watches. “wanna fuck her too. switch?”
gojo nods, pulling out of your gaping cunt, your pussy clenching around nothing. they manhandle you onto all fours, kuroo behind you now. he rubs his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick, then pushes in - slow at first, then slamming home. you yelp, the angle hitting deeper, his cock bullying your poor cervix.
gojo positions himself in front, feeding you his dick again. “suck, baby. thereee we go— make me cum down your throat, yeah?”
they find a rhythm, kuroo pounding into you from behind, hands gripping your hips and ass cheeks hard enough to bruise, while gojo fucks your face, balls slapping your chin. the room smelling like sex - sweat and cum and your arousal, gagging sounds echoing along with the slapping of skin and your pussy getting fucked.
“shiiit... her pussy’s sucking me in,” kuroo groans, thumb circling your asshole. “want me to play here too? hm, angel?”
you nod around gojo’s cock, and kuroo spits on your hole, pressing his thumb in slowly. the stretch burns so good, fullness overwhelming. he works it in and out, matching his thrusts, and you feel another orgasm building.
gojo’s close, hips stuttering now. “fucking hell, baby- gonna cum— swallow it all, yeah?” he thrusts deep, spilling down your throat with a hot moan. you gag, swallowing what you can, the rest dripping from your lips. he pulls out, smearing the mess on your cheek. “haahh... messy girl.”
kuroo speeds up, thumb buried in your ass, cock slamming into you, pounding into your sopping pussy like he couldnt get enough. “cum for me, sweetheart. soak my dick... yeah, fuck— good girl...”
you do, screaming as your pussy spasms, squirting a little around his still-pistoning cock, wetting the sheets. kuroo follows immediately, pulling out to cum on your back, hot ropes painting your skin. but they’re not done.
gojo flips you onto your back again, sliding back into your pussy while it’s still pulsing. “my turn to fill you up.” kuroo straddles your chest, cock hard again already, pushing between your tits. “squeeze ’em together, pretty.”
you press your breasts around his shaft, and he thrusts, groaning at the friction. gojo fucks you rough, one hand on your clit, rubbing fast. “gonna breed this cunt,” he growls, and you whine, legs wrapping around him.
kuroo cums first this time, spilling over your tits and neck, marking your skin. then gojo’s next, burying himself balls-deep and pumping you full, cum leaking out around his cock, dripping down your crack. he pulls out slowly, watching it drip, then scoops some up and pushes it back in with his fingers. “keep it in there.”
they collapse beside you, all panting and sweaty. gojo kisses your shoulder, kuroo still out of breath. “that was fun,” gojo says with a grin. “we should do this again.”
kuroo smirks, hand tracing your thigh. “yeah, but next time, i get her first.”
gojo scoffs, reaching to the nightstand to light up a cig. “greedy shit.”
note. pls ignore how obvious it is that i had no idea how to end this bc i was literally in class when i finally decided to write it,, and this didn’t rly come out the way i imagined it either :c it was supposed to be a longer fic, but i js haven’t had much motivation to write lately. i’m so sowwy !!
What better of an official initiation into your sorority at your new college than having Fratboy Satoru's long, veiny cock inside your hole, and Fratboy Sukuna's thick, pierced cock down your throat?
"Hah, pass me that shit Satoru," Sukuna holds his hand out for the rolled blunt, Satoru passes it to him, smoke rising as he slams his cock inside your cunt, moaning.
"Fuck, she's gonna squirt hah," Satoru pinches your cheek as he leans over you, slamming his cock hard when you pull off Sukuna's cock for a breath. "How do you like your new college, sweetheart?"
"Mnh," how can you talk when he's throbbing inside you, his tip kissing your cute, puffy lil cervix? The alcohol on his breath when he kisses Sukunas pre right off your lips.
"Fuck you're nasty," Sukuna's chuckling, stroking his pierced cock, pre spurting from his reddened tip. "Let her hit it, don't be stingy."
"Do you smoke, sweets? Aw are you fucked dumb already?" You manage to nod, and Satoru grins, slamming inside you again. "Words, use your words."
"I smoke," you manage to murmur, Satoru lifts you on your knees with his huge cock inside you, Sukuna's tattooed hand feels that bulge, making his cock twitch.
"Look at that, we're too big for you," Sukuna tilts your chin up, his cock drizzling pre on your tummy as he holds the blunt to your lips. "Suck. That's it. Take a good hit, hold it in."
you hold the smoke in your mouth, Sukuna sucks it right from your lungs, tongue messy as it toys with yours, Satoru's fingers are pinching your twitchy clit, making you jolt, so fucking full of him you can't take it. "Mnh!"
"You like that sweetheart?" Satoru takes the blunt from Sukuna, red all around his pretty blue irises from the weed and the liquor, inhaling it and turning your head to him. "Words, remember baby."
"I do, l-love it," you murmur softly, making Sukuna chuckles when Satoru blows smoke into your mouth, you suck it into your lungs, already feeling dizzy.
"Pass your pretty body around like this blunt," Satoru says, nipping at your lip. "Want us to use you?"
You swallow and nod again, Satoru's lifted you off him just for Sukuna to glide his huge cock on your slit, the barbell dragging on your soft spot when he glides in. "Oh fuck, brat loosen up."
"Ngh!" Satoru's handing the blunt back to Sukuna, his cock dripping you as he tugs at your hair in one hand, pushing on the back of your head to guide his cock into your mouth, you drool when the tip presses on your uvula, making tears prick your eyes. you're just so fucking full of their cocks.
"I did stretch her out, she was so tight before it was fuckin' strangling me," he chuckles, before whimpering, right when Sukuna bottoms out as deep as he can go, your walls are gripping him so tight he's whimpering himself.
"Fuck," he groans, sucking the blunt into his lungs as he slams into you over and over, heavy balls smacking and thwacking in the boys dorm room at the frat house. "That's it, taking it s'good for us."
Bras and panties are all lined up - mementos.
Beer bottles littering the dresser.
Yet you can't be bothered to care when you're squirting all over Sukuna's cock with a whine and a messy squelch. "Oh f-fuck, look at that mess - hah. Slutty lil' cunt."
Satoru has you deep throating his cock, sucking in a breath through his teeth as you gag on it, the blunt smaller by the minute as he pinches it between his thumb and forefinger. "Where'd you learn to deepthroat like that? Think I'm jealous."
"Mmph!" They chuckle at your attempt at an answer, Sukuna's reaching around and pressing you further on Satoru's cock, his fingers toying your clit.
"Cum again, brat, wanna see how much you squirt, make a whole mess of Satoru's bed."
"I'll lick it right off," Sukuna snorts and rolls his eyes, toying your clit until you scream around Satoru, he sucks in a breath. "Oh f-fuck... that's it, shit..."
Satoru's busting inside your throat, egged on my your orgasm making you swallow around him. Sukuna hands him the blunt as you suck greedily, all his salty cum down your throat. Your nose is flush with the white hair on his pelvis, Sukuna's rolling his hips mean.
"Gonna fuckin' cum in your slutty hole, fuck ya want that?" He smacks each ass cheek, earning you arching for it more. "There you go, fuckin arch f'me just like that."
Sukuna busts his load as Satoru's cock softens ever so slightly, he's brushing your hair back almost gentle, Sukuna's white ropes coating your walls. You're a trembling mess when he pulls out, cock dripping on Satoru's digimon sheets, soaking the poor little characters. He laughs softly, brushing a hand up your spine.
"Took it like you're made for it," he murmurs, nipping your shoulder blade and stuffing that cum back in your hole, as Satoru pulls you right off his cock. "Keep it in."
"H-how?" You ask, whimpering as he plugs you full of his cum, the two men flipping you on your back, handing you the remaining little blunt that's left.
"Take a hit baby," Satoru grins down at you, Sukuna's already between your thighs, tongue lapping up the squirt that dripped down them.
"You're..." You trail off, sucking the blunt from Satoru's fingers, as Sukuna's own push that milky cum back inside. "Ah!"
"M'gonna eat it out of you," Sukuna's tongue ring hits your slit and makes you jolt, Satoru puts out the blunt, leaning forward and kissing you messy, drooling into your mouth.
"Then I'm gonna pump you full of mine sweetheart," he nuzzles your nose all cute like he's not a freak. "Eat mine out of your cute hole. Hah, maybe both of them?"
"Both - ngh!" Sukuna's already lapping his own cum out of your hole fucking greedy, Satoru's hand is wrapping your throat, making you dizzy as he squeezes.
"Mhm, don't worry we'll clean up all our mess."
****
ahem - next will be janitor Toji, emo geto then prof nanami <3
sum. sequel to one last time. you visit suna after listening to the voicenote he sent you, just to talk, and end up doing a little more than that.
feat. rintaro suna
cw. cheating/infidelity, suna really got on my nerves while i was writing this and he'll probably get on yours too, arguing, choking (m. receiving), edging, cunnilingus, a little manhandling kinda, missionary, multiple instances of "i miss/ed you"
wc. 2k
Suna tries his best to keep the shit-eating grin off his face when you text him to ask if he’s home.
He knew that voice message would get you. There was a tiny voice in his head that told him it would be a monumental embarrassment if you didn’t, but it was drowned out by all the other voices in his head telling him to send, send, send, send.
His stomach turns with anticipation. He doesn’t even answer your question, just orders an Uber and sends you the car make and model and how long it will take to get to your apartment. 6 minutes. And then 12 minutes from yours to his.
He fishes out the fancy santal candle he knows you like from beneath the bathroom sink and lights it in his bedroom. Then he brushes his teeth and puts some music on and waits.
He jumps when the doorbell rings.
There’s a moment of silence when he opens the door, the two of you just looking at each other. It hits Suna that this is the first time he’s seen you in person in months. He used to see you everyday. There's a part of his chest that seems to ache at the realization. He ignores it.
“Hi,” you breathe.
He blinks once. Twice. “Hey.” He opens the door a little wider and shifts to the side so you can come in.
You take one step closer and then stop, eyeing him with unjust suspicion. “I didn’t come over here to fuck you.”
Suna takes one look at your outfit—shorts that are definitely too short to be comfortable in this chilly fall weather and a sweatshirt he’s pretty sure is his—and knows you’re lying. He doesn’t call you out, just grins and shrugs and ushers you inside anyway.
You lean against the kitchen counter to survey the living room, pleased to see that it looks exactly the same as the last time you were here. Suna’s still standing by the door when you look at him again, arms crossed.
“So why’d you come over?” he asks.
It’s your turn to shrug. “You said you missed me.”
“Did I?”
You give him a sideways look. “You did.” You drag out the two words, nodding slowly and widening your eyes as if you’re speaking to a child.
Suna tilts his head to the side, smiling a little. “What else did I say?”
Oh lord. You should’ve known he’d be annoying about it. You shift your gaze up to the ceiling, pretending to struggle to remember even though you listened to his message several times, including once on the car ride over.
“You said you weren’t happy for me…which is pretty fucked up.”
Suna just rolls his eyes. “What else?”
Eyes on the ceiling again. “You said you liked my Halloween costume. And that if I had sex with you it wouldn’t count as cheating because I haven’t been with him that long.” You put air quotes around his claim, sliding your eyes back down to meet his.
He’s standing closer to you now than he was a minute ago, looking like he’s holding back a laugh. “Now that part’s fucked up. Where is the boyfriend, by the way?”
You make a face and look at the time on the microwave. “Probably home. Probably asleep.”
“Yeah? How’s he doing?” He closes what’s left of the gap between you and tugs on the drawstring of your (his) sweatshirt to even out both ends.
“Fine…” you whisper, breath hitching when his hand brushes your ear on the way to your hoodie.
He hums after fixing the string and walks towards his bedroom, tapping your bare thigh as he passes you as a silent cue to follow.
You realize that he doesn’t believe your intentions for coming over are pure, which is true, but you don’t like that he didn’t even pretend to believe you.
You follow his lead anyway, resting your head against the doorframe and watching him fish his phone out of his pocket and dump it on his desk. He sits on the edge of the bed and looks over at you with his eyebrows raised.
“I told you I just came over here to talk,” you snap.
Suna’s response is automatic. “No, you said you didn’t come over here to fuck.”
“Rin.”
He puts his hands up in mock surrender. “Sorry.” He leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees and his hands beneath his chin. “Alright. Talk.”
“You’re so fucking annoying,” you mutter. “I shouldn’t have come.” You twist your foot to turn around and immediately hear the bed creak with relief. Suna wraps his hand around your wrist before you can fully turn your back.
“Wait, I’m sorry,” he says. “Stay. Please?”
He sounds like he’s begging. He looks like he’s begging, with his slumped shoulders and pleading eyes and desperation written all over his pretty face.
It’s not enough.
“My boyfriend doesn’t taunt me like this, you know,” you tell him, indignant.
Suna’s grip on your arms loosens as his face falls a bit.
You continue. “He’s actually nice to me. And he’s romantic. Treats me like royalty.”
You watch Suna’s jaw tick. His hand returns to his side. “He’s boring.”
“He’s steady.”
Suna’s tone grows terse. “Dull. Stale. Bland. Vanilla.”
“Stable and secure and safe.”
Suna snorts. “Safe,” he repeats, sarcastic. “I seriously don’t get how you can date him.”
“Because he’s my boyfriend who I love and not just some guy I used to fuck when I was lonely.”
It’s a low blow. You and Suna were friends long before the benefits came along. Good friends. Close friends.
If he’s offended he doesn’t show it, just latches on to the first part of your sentence. “You don’t love him.”
He’s right. “You’re wrong.”
“Really? Why are you here then?” He narrows his eyes. “And don’t say it’s because I said I missed you.”
You’re not sure when you started taking steps forward, or when Suna started moving backwards, but his calves hit the edge of the bed and suddenly he’s sitting again, looking up at you with that infuriating self-righteousness that makes your eye twitch.
And then your hand is squeezing his throat and your lips are on his and you’re straddling him and moaning into his mouth.
You feel him start to smile against you before he pulls away.
He opens his mouth to speak, but you beat him to it. “Don’t fucking say anything,” you tell him, before tugging his face towards you neck.
You can tell Suna’s still smiling, but he obeys, sucking the tender spot right above your collarbone without another word. His hands find the bottom of your sweatshirt and he pulls it up.
His lips leave your skin and your hand leaves his neck so you can take your arms out of the sleeves and he can yank it over your head and drop it on the floor. Then he rests his hands on your hips and just looks at you.
Goosebumps dance across your shoulders and arms. Suna wants to comment on how you're not wearing a bra but he doesn’t, just continues to stare.
“What?” you ask.
He takes in the sight of you on top of him, the rise and fall of your chest—quicker than normal, a side effect of him riling you up. He revels in the weight of you on his legs and tries to recall the last time you had him beneath you like this. Your birthday? His birthday? Or maybe it was that time he tried to cheer you up after you got laid off. Either way, it’s been a long time and he hates to think about how you’ve probably been doing this with your boyfriend instead of him.
He can’t help himself. “You straddle the boyfriend like this?”
You huff and press your palm to his chest, shoving him onto his back. Your face hovers over his. “What are you gonna do if I say yes?”
Suna studies your face and puts his hands around your waist and beams. It’s the only signal you get before he flips you, putting your head on a pillow and taking his own shirt off before he drops it on the ground somewhere near your hoodie.
You prop yourself up on your elbows, glancing at the hard outline growing in his sweats as you trail your fingertips up his thigh. He leans into you and rests his forehead against yours.
“I missed you,” he says softly.
Your heart beats at a concerning speed. “I know.”
He gets up from the bed and snaps the waistband of your shorts before telling you to take them off and removing the rest of his own clothes. When he crouches over you again, you place the sole of your foot flat against him and tut.
“You also said you’d do that thing I like with your tongue.”
Again, Suna chooses not to comment. He wonders how many times you listened to the message, because it’s sounding like more than once, more than a couple. He grabs your ankles and drags you down the bed, forcing a giggle out of your throat before he plants his head between your legs.
He circles your clit, avoiding making contact with it directly and making teasing strokes with his fingers until you’re panting and quivering and making shaky demands for him to let you come on his tongue. When he does, you scream his name.
“Music to my fucking ears,” he says under his breath, licking your slick off his lips. “You scream this loud for him too?”
You can't believe you forgot how aggravating he is. “Shut up and fuck me.”
He looks so smug. You start to think that the desperation from before was too short-lived, until he’s inside you and you’re filled with him and that familiar need that makes you wrap your legs around him and claw at his back.
All you can think about is how you miss him and you missed this, and you’re telling him to fuck you harder, and then his mouth is right below your ear and his hair is tickling your cheek and a stream of yes’s and Rin’s are tumbling out of your mouth like dominoes and youre trying to pull him impossibly closer and youre so surrounded by him that its dizzying and youre whispering i miss you in his ear and hoping it doesnt sound like i love you and hes saying i miss you too and youre wondering if he really means i love you too and then youre biting into his shoulder and—
You lose count of how many times you come. Both of you do. The two of you are coated in sweat, laying on damp sheets in a room that now smells like sex and sandalwood. Neither of you speak, busy catching your breath and being lost in thought. You don’t want to say anything, afraid you’ll break the spell.
You didn’t have to worry about that, though, because you hear your phone ping loudly and realize it’s on the floor, still tucked away in the front pocket of your sweatshirt. Suna turns his head towards you.
“You should break up with him.”
You raise an eyebrow at the seriousness in his voice and sigh. “I know.”
“Today.”
A pause. “Okay.”
There’s another moment where none of you speak. And then–
“You should date me instead.”
You turn to face him and the earnestness in his expression catches you so off guard you have to look away again. It’s not that you never expected him to bring it up, you just hadn't expected him to sound so sincere when he did.
You had toyed with the idea before, a handful of times even, but everything between you two was so easy—why would you mess it up with a what are we? conversation? Although, you suppose you messed it up anyway by getting a boyfriend and ditching Suna without warning.
It takes you a long time to respond, long enough that Suna starts to game plan an exit strategy, but then you meet his gaze again.
ellievsbear
janainaart
jbbartram-illu
pixelskylines
origamiaround
annaxmalina
titsay
