Literaleigh

it got worse before it got better. jabber never studied in the room, but he was always there. music low. window cracked. lighter clicking. laughing at nothing. inviting people over and then forgetting they existed ten minutes later.

zanka tried noise-canceling headphones.

tried the library.

tried ignoring the way jabber's voice dragged through the room like smoke, low and amused and constantly pushing.

"you ever relax?" jabber asked one night, watching zanka rewrite the same paragraph for the third time. "or you just live like that? tense as hell."

zanka didn't look up.

"some of us care about our futures."

jabber leaned back in his chair.

"some of us don't need to kill ourselves to feel smart."

silence.

zanka finally glanced at him.

jabber was watching him differently now. not just amused, assessing. eyes dragging slow over the way zanka's sleeves were rolled neatly to his elbows. the way his fingers tightened around his pen.

"you're always mad," jabber murmured. "what's got you so wound up, mr bad attitude?"

"maybe you."

jabber's grin sharpened.

"yeah?"

zanka stood abruptly.

"i can't breathe in here."

he moved toward the window. jabber stood too.

"window's already open."

"it's not enough."

jabber stepped closer, close enough that zanka could feel the heat of him. the faint scent of weed and something darker underneath, skin and smoke and recklessness.

"you're not mad about the smell," jabber said softly.

zanka's breath stuttered once before he caught it.

"you don't know what i'm mad about."

jabber tilted his head.

"i think i do."

and then he reached out. just two fingers. hooked into the fabric of zanka's sleeve. not pulling, just there. zanka could've stepped back yet he didn't.

"don't," he warned.

jabber's voice dropped lower.

"don't what?"

their chests were almost touching now. zanka's pulse was visible in his throat. jabber's thumb brushed against his wrist, slow. testing.

"you act like you hate me," jabber whispered. "but you look at me like you wanna break something."

zanka's composure cracked first.

he grabbed jabber by the front of his hoodie and shoved him back against the desk. the chair scraped loud against the floor. papers scattered. jabber's breath caught — not scared.

thrilled.

"there he is," he murmured, eyes darkening. "knew you had it in you."

"shut. up."

zanka's hands were still fisted in his hoodie. jabber didn't move them. instead, he leaned forward into the grip.

"make me."

the kiss wasn't soft or romantic. it was teeth and tension and weeks of pretending they didn't feel it. zanka kissed like he studied — precise at first. controlled. jabber didn't. jabber bit and laughed against his mouth.

"you're so fuckin' angry," he breathed. "it's hot."

zanka shoved him down onto the desk fully this time. the lamp tipped and books slid. jabber's hands finally moved — gripping zanka's waist, dragging him closer.

"say you don't want this," jabber murmured, voice thick, teasing even now. "c'mon, mr bad attitude. say it."

zanka didn't say it. he kissed him again instead. harder. angrier.

consent wasn't spoken — but it was there in the way jabber arched up into him, in the way his fingers hooked at zanka's belt and tugged.

"you're impossible," zanka muttered against his neck.

jabber laughed breathlessly.

"you love it."

clothes came off in uneven pieces. shirts first, buttons flying, fabric tugged hard. then hands everywhere — desperate, clumsy, heated, gripping, exploring. zanka's anger had been loud and sharp, but once jabber's back hit the mattress, it turned into something else entirely. something jagged and raw, and entirely under his control.

he hovered for a second. breathing heavy. jaw tight. pupils dark. you could feel the tension in his chest radiating through every inch of him.

jabber reached up and brushed his thumb along zanka's cheek. softer now. careful. grounding.

"you good?" he asked quietly. no teasing. just checking.

zanka swallowed and nodded once. that was enough. then jabber's hands found him fully. sloppy, heated, wandering, gripping. palms on shoulders, fingertips dragging along ribs, thumbs brushing over skin that shivered under contact. zanka's back arched instinctively, hips tilting against him, desperate for friction.

it wasn't gentle. not really. not even considerate. but it wasn't cruel either. it was friction and heat and hard, shouted curses, lips colliding, teeth grazing, gasped breaths mingling. jabber's lazy voice, usually so cool and teasing, had gone rough and breathless. broken phrases, half-formed praise, each word scraping against zanka's ear like fire.

"that's it— yeah… you're so fuckin' tense… let go…"

zanka did. in pieces. in shards. each sharp inhale. each shuddering grip. each soft whine pressed into jabber's shoulder. each grunt of effort and release. every time jabber whispered "mr. bad attitude", it was intimate, almost worshipful despite the mockery.

jabber's hands didn't stop. explored every ridge, every curve of tension, finding places that made zanka hiss and buck instinctively. fingers pressed, dragged, thumb rubbing, skin burning under his touch. each time zanka came, jabber held him there, steadying, teasing, pulling, until the shivers subsided just a little before starting again.

the mattress creaked, soft and uneven under their movements. zanka's own hands gripped at jabber's arms, pulling, scratching lightly, claiming him as desperately as he was being claimed.

then jabber shifted, pressing closer, mouth brushing the nape of zanka's neck, teasing, biting just enough to make him groan and arch again. zanka's legs tangled with jabber's, hips grinding without conscious thought, desperate, needing more friction, more skin, more heat.

his fingers slid along zanka's sides, tracing the taut muscles, teasing over sensitive spots, brushing along inner thighs, pressing and curling. each touch, deliberate, almost intimate in its chaos. the room filled with breaths and wet sounds, curses, laughs broken by moans, and the occasional sharp hiss of pleasure.

when zanka came again, it was harder, messier, loud enough to shake the thin walls. jabber's hand moved with him, coaxing, stretching the release, never letting go, never letting him fall too far.

afterward, the room was quiet except for their heavy breathing, slow, ragged exhales. the fan hummed weakly in the window. the moonlight spilled over the tangled bodies, catching beads of sweat on skin that glimmered in the dim light.

zanka laid on his back staring at the ceiling, chest heaving, limbs trembling. his fingers still twitched where jabber's had been moments ago.

"you're gonna pretend that didn't happen tomorrow, huh?"

zanka didn't answer. jabber smiled faintly.

"that's fine," he said. "i like when you're mad at me."

a pause. then, softer:

"just don't switch dorms."

zanka closed his eyes and didn't move away when jabber's fingers slid into his.

I mean— he did have a flicker of a thought pass by his brain about you cheating, but then remembered how you had waited an entire week to gather up the courage to hold his hand and the thought was quickly disregarded.

Psh. You? Cheating? You glared at every man that even tried to talk to you, as if they had made a mistake by even daring to enter your space.

You slammed your laptop shut and sent your note pad flying across the room in a hurry, rushing to erase all evidence of what you had been doing when your eyes met Sukuna’s narrowed pink ones. Freezing in the act, your arm still outstretched to where you had thrown the notepad. Flustered, and a little disheveled and you tried to act innocent, muttering a “h-hi ‘kuna..” while busying your hands with fixing the pillows.

Sukuna found the room empty except for the flustered, blushing woman he loved more than anything. His brows furrowed in confusion when his eyes trailed across the room to notice the laptop shut, and your glittery pen and notepad thrown out hazardously on the floor near a potted plant. His eyes narrowed further, a long sigh passing through his nostrils when his pupils slowly trailed back to you.

You blinked at him innocently, playing up the oblivious act to a 100, despite the heat you felt all over your face and just how much you just knew you were absolutely screwed. You swallowed, acting as if you hadn’t just been watching porn seconds before. You mumbled a terrible lie, shifting uncomfortably on the sofa, “I was just.. working on my assignment for bio,” you nodded at your very very bad lie.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed as he took a few steps towards you, his gaze darting between your flushed face, the closed laptop, and the notepad lying haphazardly on the floor. He knew something was up, knew that you were hiding something from him. The way you shifted uncomfortably on the sofa, the way you avoided his gaze... it was all so fucking telling.

You were never a good liar, were you?

“Working on your assignment, huh?” he drawled, his deep voice tinged with a hint of skepticism as he crossed his arms over his muscular chest. “Funny, I could've sworn I heard some pretty loud ass moans coming from in here… sounded nothing like you typing away on a laptop.”

He took another step closer to you, his tall frame looming over your smaller one as he bent over his hips slightly. He could feel the way your breathing had quickened, the way your chest was rising and falling quickly beneath your shirt.

“Come on, baby,” he coaxed, his voice softening slightly as he reached out to tip your chin up with his fingers, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You don't need to lie to me, sweetheart. I know something's up. What were you really doing before I got home?” He asked. His tone was gentle, but you knew better than to lie to him and potentially make him mad.

Last time that had happened you found yourself sentenced to sleeping alone on the couch, while a pouty sukuna was sleeping alone in your bedroom.

He could see the hesitation in your eyes, the way you bit down on your plump bottom lip nervously. He wanted to lean down and pull it between his teeth, to bite it gently as he kissed you. But he held back. He wasn’t gonna fuck you just yet, he had to figure out what the hell those moans were first.

He knew he had to tread carefully here, had to find the right balance between being understanding and being demanding. He didn't want to make you feel bad for exploring your own desires and curiosities, but he also needed to know that you trusted him enough to say ‘sukuna I was watching porn!’ So he could applaud you before dragging your ass to the bedroom.

You whined before making him sit on the couch right next to you, plopping him down comfortably on the soft futon, before you got up and picked up your note pad with the neatly written notes from the floor. Walking back to him with trembling steps you plopped comfortably down on his lap, sighing softly and showing him what you had been doing.

Your handwriting was cute and neat as always, with the cute little drawing on the side, despite how lewd the words were. “The video showed the wife teasing her husband before sex with something called a strip tease? I don’t know what that is but I’ll try it for Sukuna!” Sukuna read one of the dot points aloud, as you sighed wearily and defeated, completely embarrassed.

Your brain was already planning your funeral.

You opened your laptop, about to explain to him what you had been watching before the loud lewd sounds of moaning bursted out from your laptop. You quickly jumped out of sukuna’s lap to shut down the porn video that you were ‘learning’ from.

“I don’t-.. watch anything like that for my free time usually, by the way..” You mumbled embarrassed and shy.

Sukuna's eyes had widened in surprise as he scanned over the notes scribbled in your neat handwriting. He couldn't help but let out a small snort, looking away to try and stifle his laughter.

“Hey! I can see you laughing at meeee!” You whined and punched and slapped at his chest, gently enough to not hurt him.

While he took in the lewd words and the cute little doodle of a woman on top of a man with both of them having dumb little smiley faces . Fuck, the way you had written out your little to-do list, complete with hearts and silly faces next to each point… as if all the words weren’t the most pornographic descriptions ever.

“A strip tease, huh?” he murmured, his deep voice a low, teasing rumble as he looked up at you with a smug smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. ”Baby, you don't need to learn how to tease me. I'm already putty in your fucking hands.” He said, already making you weak in the knees from just that smirk of his.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze as he pulled you down onto his lap. He loved the feeling of your soft, plump ass pressing against his thighs, loved the way your small frame fit so perfectly in his larger one.

“But if you want to practice fucking with me in allll different types of positions, I'm more than happy to let you,” he said, his voice growing thicker with desire as he slid his hands up your sides, his thumbs brushing along the sides of your breasts. Just itching to inch closer to where he could properly pinch and pull. “In fact, I fucking insist on it, baby.” He whispered into your ear. “C’mon, it’ll be fun… practice every new foreplay thing or sex position you learn. Only on me.”

He could see the embarrassment in your eyes, when you blurted out a “huh?” He could feel the way you squirmed shyly in his lap. But fuck, he loved that you were trying to learn how to please him, loved that you wanted to make him feel good in every way possible. It just showed how much you cared for him, how deeply you loved him.

“I’m not gonna judge you for watching porn baby, but I’d rather you to just watch the tapes we’ve filmed” he breathed out a little hazy, already imagining all the filthy things you’d discover on your own and try with him for the first time.

You whined to him, grumbling at his last words and narrowing your eyes onto his pink ones. “I didn’t watch porn because I was horny or anything.. I have you to help me if I feel like that anytime..” you admitted to him pouty before sighing and looking away. You hesitated before whining again and letting your insecurities spill.

“I just feel like you won’t love me as much if I keep being boring in bed..”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow before pulling you closer again and narrowing his eyes, his rough fingers gripping your chin and making you face him. His glare made something inside you ignite, something between your legs throb a little. “Don’t you dare call my girlfriend boring. Do you even know how fucking hard I am right now? Just from you sitting in my lap?”

He couldn’t have his girlfriend (whom he loved very much) doubting her worth. In fact, he’d fuck those worries out of you.

Right now.

The next thing you knew was that you were dumbly whining into the mattress, ass up as he had a large hand pushing your face down, pounding into you. You didn’t need to watch porn or anything to please him.

You were already doing such a good job already! Squeezing him… squirting everywhere… drooling into the pillow.

Sukuna groaned loudly, his deep voice a low, animalistic rumble as he pistoned his hips forward, driving his thick cock deep into your tight, wet pussy. He could feel your silky walls clenching around him, gripping him like a tight glove as he fucked into you hard and fast, just the way he knew you needed it.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, baby, you feel so fucking incredible,” he grunted, his hot breath fanning over the back of your neck as he leaned down to growl filthy praise into your ear.

”So perfect, like you were made just for taking my fucking cock…”

He slid a hand up your arched back, his long fingers splaying out over the smooth skin of your shoulder blades before he pushed you down harder into the mattress. He loved seeing you like this, loved the way your ass jutted up and out, the perfect target for his hard thrusts. He could see your tits squishing against the pillow, could hear the way you whimpered and mewled with every slam of his hips against your plump ass.

“You don’t—shit… fucking need to learn a goddamn thing from porn, sweetheart,“ he panted, his voice strained with pleasure as he fucked you harder, faster, spurred on by the feeling of your slick walls squeezing him so fucking tightly. “Y-you're a fucking natural, b-baby. The way you fucking squeeze me—oh shit you’re so tight… the way you squirt all over my fucking cock... fuck, it's so fucking good, sweetheart.”

He could feel your thighs trembling beneath him, could sense that you were getting close. He knew all the signs, knew every little sound and shiver that meant you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm.

He was a good boyfriend. He always put your pleasure before his.

“That's it, baby.. f-fucking take it,” he commanded, his hips slamming against your ass with brutal force as he fucked you into the mattress. “Take my cock like the good slut you are. Fucking soak my dick with your sweet cum, baby…”

Maybe… you should’ve just stuck with the vanilla sex.