I am Falestine, Jad Al-Haq, I am 37 years old, married, and I have a eight-month-old child named Youssef. I gave birth to him during the war during very harsh conditions that no human being can bear. I moved from the hospital immediately after giving birth to the tent in which we were staying after we were displaced to it after the Israeli bulldozers completely bulldozed my house. and my suffering did not start from here. Rather, it began since the beginning of the war, and I am still suffering. I cannot provide enough milk for my baby or diapers. Even medicines and vitamins are not available.
I ask you for your urgent help in disseminating the link to my family and communicating it to people interested and able to help us. I didn't want to do it, but the tragic situation we are living in is what pushed me to do it. I feel sad and helpless, after we had everything, we are now homeless on the streets, living in a tent next to a dilapidated public toilet and there is sewage, dirt and waste everywhere, we sleep on it! We suffer from terrible heat, insects, scorpions, the danger of death, bombs and missiles, in addition to hunger of course, the danger of pollution and terrible diseases, especially the digestive, respiratory and reproductive systems!
. My father and mother could not bear it any longer. My father had a stroke after losing his home and his place of work, and my mother suffers from chronic diseases and needs treatment.
Do you have the right to imagine that when you spend your life building for yourself and your children to live a decent life, all of this disappears in the blink of an eye, and now when you reach the age where you should rest, you are forced to start again!!? But the most important thing now is to try to survive and protect your children from all the factors of death that surround us! I ask everyone who has humanity or conscience to feel our situation and put themselves in our place. How can someone who has lived with dignity all his life accept this? We are slowly dying every day.
Your donation, no matter how small, can have a big impact. It can provide a meal for my little one, a clean bottle of water, or a moment of safety under these difficult circumstances. Every donation brings with it a ray of hope, alleviating our suffering and giving us the strength to face a new day.
I ask you to donate and support the steadfastness of the Gazan people, and share this campaign with your friends and families. Together, we can make a difference and help my family get through this ordeal.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for your generosity and support.
Summary: You and Wanda have been best friends since your first semester of college. When you have to take a physics class, Wanda is more than happy to help you study, but your late night study sessions blur the lines between friendship and romance.
Warnings: 18+ nsfw content; bottom!wanda maximoff, top!reader, fingering (w receiving), oral (w receiving), wanda’s first time with a woman, slight angst, jealousy
A/N: Save me college Wanda, college Wanda save me…
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The sun beamed down on you as you walked across campus, sweat forming on the back of your neck from the heat.
You had just finished your first day of classes for the semester and you were feeling confident about all of them, except for one. Even as an English major, you were stuck taking a physics class to complete some general requirements for graduation.
You could handle the most complex forms of literature on a bad day, but when it came to math and science, you found yourself feeling a little lost.
The good news was that your roommate and best friend, Wanda Maximoff, was a physics major. Wanda was everything you wanted to be - naturally smart, driven, focused, and incredibly organized.
She was also the most beautiful person you had ever laid eyes on, long brown hair that was somehow even softer than it looked, stunning green eyes that sometimes made you nervous under her gaze, and the perfect body - since you shared a room, you’d seen her undress before, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to look like her or fuck her brains out.
You constantly pushed down any desires you felt towards Wanda since she was your best friend, telling yourself your friendship was far too valuable to risk just because you occasionally had confusing feelings towards her.
The two of you had known each other since you both started college. You were roommates your first semester and instantly became close, despite your contrasting personalities. Where you were more relaxed and laid back when it came to your studies, Wanda was very serious. It made sense though, her major was far more demanding than yours was and she always worked hard to maintain her perfect GPA.
You’d always admired Wanda and found that you could no longer envision your life without her by your side. She was easily the best friend you’d ever had; she was supportive when you needed it and stayed on top of you when you felt like slacking. Wanda was extremely likable and you felt honored that she considered you her closest friend as well.
When you finally made it back to your dorm, you sighed as you felt the cool air inside. You headed to your room and unlocked the door, stepping through the threshold to the familiar sight of Wanda studying. You smiled to yourself; it was only the first day of classes and she was already trying to learn as much as she could.
“Hey,” you greeted, setting your things down and plopping into your bed, taking a moment to relax.
“Hi,” Wanda said back, turning in her chair to face you. “How was your first day?”
“It was good,” you responded, looking over at her from your bed. “My professors seem cool, most of my classes don’t seem too hard. What about you?”
“Not too bad, although my nuclear and particle physics class might kick my ass this semester,” Wanda chuckled.
“Is that what you’re over there studying already?” You teased her, gesturing to the open books on her desk.
“Yeah, it’s actually pretty interesting. I want to get ahead this semester so I have more time to hang out with you and do fun stuff,” she explained.
“That’s good. I’ll remind you that you said that the next time you’re trying not to go to a party with me,” you joked, bringing a smile to her face. “Or maybe you could use some of that extra time to help me out, I’m stuck taking a physics class this semester and I have no idea what’s going on.”
“Oh, which one?” Wanda asked, her interest piqued.
“Classical mechanics I think,” you said, feeling slightly embarrassed at needing help with one of the most basic physics courses.
“That’s a fun one,” she commented. “I’d be glad to help detka.”
That was another thing about Wanda. She often called you pet names, in a friendly way of course, but it made your heart flutter every time she did it.
“Okay cool, thank you. Maybe we can have a study session at the library tomorrow if you’re not too busy with classes?” you asked, knowing you only had one class to worry about in the morning.
Wanda turned towards her desk to flip through a binder, checking her schedule. “I have a morning class and one in the afternoon, could we do 7pm?”
“Sounds like a plan,” you said, biting back a smile at the thought of Wanda tutoring you.
“Perfect! I’ll meet you there tomorrow.” She turned back to face you again, her expression becoming serious as she pointed a finger at you. “Ten minutes of bed-rotting time and then I want to see you reading or writing something,” she demanded, trying to motivate you to get ahead like she was.
“Okay mom,” you retorted, rolling your eyes playfully.
She went back to studying, taking notes as she flipped the pages of her nuclear physics textbook. You laid in bed for a few more moments, scrolling through Instagram reels, before getting up to join her in studying.
The next day, you attended your morning class and then grabbed a latte at the coffee shop on campus, deciding to review your notes as you sipped your drink, knowing it’s what Wanda would want you to do.
The rest of the day went by slowly but you managed to get some work done. You were eager for your study session with Wanda, excited to spend some time with her after the two of you had gone home for the summer and had barely seen each other.
You arrived at the library early, finding it to be relatively empty at this time of night. A few students were at the computers, but overall the library was quite vacant. You picked a spot in the corner, away from others, where you felt you’d have the most privacy and the least distractions.
You waited for Wanda, who came in a few minutes later, looking around the shelves before she spotted you.
“Hey,” she greeted as she sat down beside you, her thigh touching yours. She reached into her bag to pull out different colored pens, highlighters, sticky notes, and some of her old physics notes from when she took classical mechanics.
“Hi,” you breathed out, forcing yourself to ignore the feeling of her so close. “Someone came prepared,” you jested, making her laugh softly as she finished setting up.
“I’m here to help you, aren’t I? I have to make sure you have everything you need,” she quipped with a smile and the most adorable nose scrunch.
Your heart skipped a beat at the sight; you didn’t remember it being this hard to be around Wanda, but everything she was doing was driving you crazy in the best way. You watched her for a moment as she placed everything on the table in an organized fashion, biting her lip with a focused expression on her face. You wanted nothing more than to pull her bottom lip from between her teeth and capture it with your own.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” She broke the silence, bringing you back to reality. You blushed at what you were just thinking about, nodding in response.
“Sounds good,” you managed, opening your textbook to the first chapter.
Wanda reached over to move the textbook so it was centered between the two of you and as she did so, your fingers brushed against each other. You almost shivered at the act, the soft touch feeling like too much but not enough at the same time. Wanda didn’t seem affected as she began to dig into the material, asking you what the professor had already gone over.
She somehow kept finding ways to touch you, whether it was a hand on your shoulder or her fingers grazing your own over the textbook as she pointed to pictures and paragraphs. You could barely answer her questions, the close proximity and subtle touches making you yearn for her.
Unbeknownst to you, Wanda was just as affected; she was just better at hiding it. She couldn’t understand why but she kept intentionally finding ways to be closer to you. She didn’t notice the effect it was having on you, too preoccupied with steadying her own heart rate every time she felt your skin against hers.
She’d always thought you were beautiful, but this was something else. She didn’t know why she was struggling to keep her composure around you now. She’d always found comfort in your presence - you often studied together, came home drunk from parties and cuddled in the same bed, or watched movies together laying side by side, the computer across both of your laps.
Something about this study session felt weirdly intimate. She was enjoying teaching you about her passion, physics and science, and maybe that was part of it. She chalked it down to that and tried to push her feelings aside, focusing on helping you with your studies and being a good friend.
A friend - that’s what she was to you and that’s how it would stay. She couldn’t complicate something so perfect with these conflicting feelings of wanting more from you.
Despite both of you trying hard to ignore how you felt, the air was still charged, the tension still there. It wasn’t just this time either - it became a regular occurrence.
Wanda helped you with physics at least once a week and her eager guidance actually helped you grasp the subject more. You found yourself falling in love with the way her eyes would light up when you brought up a subject she knew a lot about. She was so excited every time you understood it too, feeling both accomplished that she could help and proud that you were getting it.
She found it adorable when you didn’t understand something and she loved the way your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to think harder about it. The two of you became closer than ever, which you didn’t think was possible. You and Wanda were already attached at the hip when she wasn’t deep in her studies and you never expected to feel like you were getting to know her better just from a few study sessions, but you loved it.
You found yourself wanting her, despite trying to repress those feelings. Sometimes when you got an answer right and Wanda beamed with excitement, you only wanted to break the distance and kiss her, to feel her lips against your own and wrap your arms around her neck as she kissed you back. You couldn’t help but look at her lips as she spoke, imagining how soft they’d be against your own. Whenever she bit her lip, you wished she was biting yours.
The thoughts weren’t always so innocent though. Yes, you wondered how she would taste as you kissed her, but you also wondered how she would taste with your head between her legs. You wanted to thank her for her help by making her cum on your fingers right there in the library, where anyone could see.
You tried to shake those kinds of thoughts, feeling guilty for thinking of your best friend that way, especially when she was being so kind as to tutor you on the subject you struggled with. She didn’t have a lot of free time to begin with, her workload keeping her fairly busy, and here she was making sure you could pass your physics class with flying colors.
And here you were, too distracted by thoughts of fucking her to pay attention to Newton’s law of attraction. The only law of attraction you could think about was how you felt about Wanda.
Wanda was in the same boat, cursing herself for threatening to ruin your friendship with this newfound attraction towards you. She wondered if her seemingly innocent thoughts about you in the past were actually just the seeds of this desire for you, only now flourishing the more time you spent alone with her.
Whenever she felt your gaze on her, it made her feel hot all over. She tried to ignore it and focus on the material, reminding herself that you just needed help with physics. That’s what she was there for, nothing else.
But sometimes, she wished it was more. When you weren’t looking, she’d rake her eyes over you, taking in the sight of you beside her, feeling her heart stop in her chest when you’d catch her staring. You convinced yourself she was just watching you to make sure you were immersed in the subject, when in reality she was most definitely checking you out.
Still, her eyes on you made you nervous and you brought your attention back to the textbook in front of you solely to rid your cheeks of the blush she caused.
One particular night in the library nearly changed everything.
You read Wanda’s notes about motion and energy, scanning the pages to better understand the concepts. While you admired her neat handwriting and the cute ways she annotated her own notes, Wanda admired the concentrated look on your face.
She was so lost in watching you that she barely noticed when you spoke.
“So special relativity is the exception to Newton’s laws when objects move at high speeds and general relativity is when objects are too massive, right?” You asked, looking up at her for confirmation as she stared at you intently, a slight smirk coming across your features when you caught her.
“Yes,” she choked out, looking away for a second to regain her composure. “And quantum mechanics?”
“That’s the exception when objects are very small,” you responded, feeling confident in your answer.
“Good job,” Wanda praised, making your heart flutter. “You’re really getting it.” She looked at you with nothing but pride and approval, smiling softly.
“Thank you,” you mumbled, feeling hot under her gaze. Despite how nervous she was making you, you didn’t break eye contact.
The two of you sat like that for a moment, just looking at each other, until Wanda’s eyes flicked down to your lips for a brief second. You almost thought you imagined it at first, but then she did it again. You mimicked her actions, looking down at those lips you wanted so desperately to capture with your own.
You swore Wanda was leaning in and you couldn’t stop yourself from doing the same. Your faces were mere inches apart now and you could feel Wanda’s warm breath against your lips.
Before you could close the gap, the door to the library opened and startled both of you. You turned to look at who came in, silently cursing them for ruining the moment as Wanda pulled back to look too.
There was an awkward silence before Wanda cleared her throat. “So now that you know what quantum mechanics is, let’s move on to the definitions of atomic and subatomic,” she said, her voice nearly trembling as she tried to recover from the heated moment you shared.
“Right,” you responded, turning your attention back to her notes, trying to calm your racing heart.
You and Wanda had almost kissed, everything suddenly felt very real. But instead of addressing what just happened, Wanda moved on, bringing the conversation back to the task at hand.
You played along, focusing on looking for the definitions she mentioned, finding it difficult to learn anything new when you had just come so close to kissing the brunette.
The rest of the study session felt tense and slightly awkward, but you made it through the last of the material without any hitches - or almost-kisses. Eventually, the two of you packed up your things and headed out, discussing projects and exams on the way back to your dorm.
A few days later, you were watching a movie in bed when Wanda came in, smiling brightly with a skip in her step.
“What’s got you so giddy today?” You asked, pausing your movie.
“Do you remember Vision, from my data analysis class?”
“Yeah,” you answered, nodding.
“He just asked me out,” she said excitedly. “I said yes of course. We’re going out on Friday, he’s taking me to dinner.”
Her words felt like a punch to the gut. You forced a smile, trying to be happy for her when all you could focus on was the feeling of your heart breaking.
“That’s great, Wands,” you muttered. “I’m happy for you.” The words felt fake coming out of your mouth but you kept up the act and tried to ignore the jealousy bubbling within you.
“He’s so sweet, he even used a silly joke about data to ask me out,” she went on, continuing to tell you about her day as you listened, your mind elsewhere the entire time.
All you could think about was the kiss you almost shared, how it meant everything to you and nothing to Wanda. Obviously she wasn’t interested in you like that and you wondered if you merely imagined the intimacy of the library study sessions. You had to come to terms with the fact that the tension you felt in the air when you were with Wanda lately was all in your head.
You thought when you almost kissed that maybe, just maybe, she felt the same way. Now, you realized you were horribly wrong, the harsh reality hitting you like a truck. Wanda was just being nice helping you study and you let yourself believe that it was more. You felt incredibly stupid, wishing the ground would swallow you whole so you didn’t have to hear any more about the date Vision was taking Wanda on.
What you didn’t know was that Wanda only said yes to Vision out of pure denial. She was having a hard time coping with her feelings for you and this seemed like a good way to move on, to try to save your friendship from her own selfish desires. She was excited for her date, hoping that it would take her mind off of you.
Maybe Vision would be the perfect guy for her and she could fall for him instead. He was handsome, slightly dorky, and very chivalrous, always holding the door open for her when they showed up to class at the same time. He was planning on taking her to a lovely restaurant near campus and Wanda was trying her best to look forward to it.
Friday rolled around and Wanda went on her date, which couldn’t have gone better. Vision greeted her at her dorm with flowers, walking her to his car and taking them to the restaurant. He listened intently while Wanda talked about herself and her passions, seeming genuinely interested. He paid at the end of dinner, leaving a generous tip for their server which Wanda found attractive. He asked politely to kiss her when he dropped her back off and didn’t pressure her for more.
Despite how wonderful the date was, Wanda was frustrated. She didn’t feel a spark with him like she did with you. She didn’t feel anything when they kissed, not even when he cupped her cheek in his hand as he moved his lips softly against her own.
Wanda felt more butterflies in her stomach from your hand brushing against hers during a study session than she did from kissing Vision at the end of their date and she hated it.
She figured it would take some time to get over you and continued to see Vision, going on a couple dates a week with him when she had the free time. She tried to continue your study sessions as well, but you told her you didn’t need the extra help and to just have fun with Vision. She felt slightly hurt - she didn’t like the idea of you not needing her anymore - but she was also proud of you for taking on the subject on your own.
You, on the other hand, were avoiding Wanda at all costs. You only came back to the dorm when she was in class or when she was already asleep, staying out late hanging around college parties that weren’t nearly as fun without your best friend.
You were in far too deep and came to the conclusion that you needed to move on in order to stay friends with Wanda. So you kept your distance, hoping that not seeing her or hearing from her would help you lose feelings for her.
You also couldn’t bear to see her with Vision; the sight of them together on campus made you feel sick to your stomach. You didn’t want to hear about their dates either, knowing it would destroy you. You couldn’t possibly listen to Wanda describe how he got to take her out and kiss her and hold her when it should’ve been you, not without revealing your true feelings to her.
While you spent your days hiding from the brunette, Wanda was confused as to why you were avoiding her, not understanding that it was an act of self-preservation.
She had so many things she was excited to tell you about - being the top student in her relativity class, getting a perfect score on her nuclear and particle physics exam, and of course, her budding relationship with Vision. The opportunity to tell you never came, as you were gone until she went to sleep and out of the dorm before she woke up.
She missed your study sessions, even if not having those intimate moments with you was for the best. She missed your movie nights, your conversations, your presence in general - she missed everything about you. It frustrated her to no end that she could never seem to see you anymore and she wondered how you could possibly become so busy all of a sudden.
She only realized you were actively avoiding her one night when she stayed up late, waiting to see if you’d come back to the dorm.
When you entered, you were surprised to see her still awake.
“Hey,” she said, happy to see you for the first time in weeks. “Where were you?”
“At a party,” you said back coldly. You internally cursed yourself for not staying out later, unaware that Wanda would still be up when you came back. You looked around before grabbing some things from your dresser. “I need to shower,” you announced, leaving the room before Wanda could ask any more questions.
The brunette waited up for you, but you never came back. She waited hours before she finally succumbed to sleep, her thoughts a jumbled mess as she drifted away.
When she woke up the next morning and you were still gone, she knew you were actually making an effort not to see her and she could only wonder what she had done wrong. She mulled over it for a while but came up with nothing. She thought back to the almost-kiss and wondered if maybe she had made you uncomfortable that night.
Days went by and you continued to avoid her. Not knowing why you were staying away from her was driving her crazy. Her grades even began to suffer from how distracted she was in class, her mind consumed with thoughts of you.
She finally decided to confront you about it, but first she’d have to actually find you. She vaguely knew your class schedule but didn’t want to corner you in a public place, so she went to the one place she thought you might be late in the evening.
As soon as she entered the library after hours, she saw you in the corner at the same table the two of you used to sit at for your study sessions.
You were nose deep in your physics textbook, focusing intently as you tried to understand the topics without Wanda’s help. She walked over to you, mentally hyping herself up for the conversation she was both anticipating and dreading.
When you set the book down to take notes, you looked up and your eyes widened at the sight of Wanda approaching you.
Before you could say anything, she was taking a seat across from you. “Why are you avoiding me?” she demanded, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, her tilting to the side.
“I- I’m not, I-” you stuttered out.
“Don’t,” she interrupted. “Don’t lie to me. You’re never back at the dorm anymore, you stopped spending any time with me, you literally said you were going to shower and just never came back. So don’t you dare lie to me right now.”
“I’ve just been busy,” you said nonchalantly, not wanting to tell her the truth. “I have a life outside of you, you know.” You regretted the words as soon as you said them.
“Bullshit,” she responded, getting angry. “You’re avoiding me and I can’t for the life of me figure out why. What did I do to you?”
“Nothing, Wands,” you reassured her. “You didn’t do anything. I just- I need to be alone.”
“Why?” She didn’t let up. She came here to get answers and she would get them one way or another.
“It’s personal,” you tried, hoping she wouldn’t press any further.
She scoffed. “What’s so personal you can’t share it with your best friend?”
You were at a loss for words. You couldn’t tell her the truth and risk ruining your friendship, but at this point there was barely anything left to ruin. You hadn’t seen Wanda properly in weeks, your friendship with her was practically nonexistent at the moment.
When you didn’t respond, she spoke again, softer this time. “What’s going on? You can tell me anything,” she uttered, reaching out to place a hand over yours.
“I can’t tell you this,” you mumbled, feeling your resolve weakening.
“What could possibly be so bad you can’t tell me?” She asked, her heart falling at the sight of you looking so small under her gaze.
“I- I can’t stand to see you with him,” you whispered, your voice so low she almost didn’t hear you.
“With who? Vision?” she asked and you nodded, looking down at your lap. “I still have time for you too, I’m not choosing him over you,” she tried to dispel your worries, not yet understanding what you were implying with your confession.
“No, Wanda, I can’t stand to see him with you,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “You don’t get it, you are choosing him and it hurts too much to be around you.”
“What are you saying?” She questioned, feeling both confused and hurt.
“I’m saying that I like you, Wanda,” you started. “As more than a friend.”
Wanda was silent for a moment, processing what you were telling her. Could she really have been so oblivious that she didn’t notice you wanted her too? It all made sense now. You’d stopped hanging out with her right around the time Vision came into the picture and she couldn’t figure out why, but now she understood.
“Please say something,” you said, feeling nervous and vulnerable as you looked up at her, unable to read her expression.
“I- I didn’t know,” she managed to get out.
“That was kind of the point,” you retorted, half-smiling to alleviate some of the tension.
Wanda let out a suppressed laugh. “I only started seeing Vision because I like you too,” she began. “I thought if I could be with him, I wouldn’t have to worry about complicating things with my feelings.”
Your mouth fell open at her words; you weren’t expecting her to ever reciprocate how you felt about her. “You do?”
She nodded. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” she said.
“Me neither,” you mumbled, looking down at her lips for a moment before making eye contact with her again.
She smirked when she noticed where your eyes went, making you blush. “I don’t think that’s a problem anymore,” she said, her eyes flicking down to your lips and back up.
“I think you may be right,” was all you could say before you stood up and walked around the table. Wanda stood up too, meeting you halfway as you pulled her in for a kiss that was long overdue.
You sighed against her lips, kissing her deeply the way you’d wanted to for so long. Your mouths moved together perfectly and it felt so right, you didn’t think you’d ever be able to stop.
This was what Wanda was waiting for.
The kiss she shared with you was everything her kiss with Vision wasn’t. It was electrifying in the best way, butterflies erupting in her stomach with every movement of your lips against hers.
When her tongue traced your bottom lip, you nearly moaned into the kiss, immediately granting her entry. Your tongue collided with hers and she whimpered, the sound going straight to your core. You brought a hand up to caress her cheek, your other hand going to the back of her head to play with her hair, causing her to let out a soft moan. This was everything you could’ve imagined and more.
Wanda’s hands came up to your face, cradling it as she deepened the kiss. Your lips and tongues moved in tandem, neither of you wanting to stop any time soon.
When you finally did detach from her, it was to catch your breath. You stayed close, your noses still touching as the two of you breathed against each other. You felt every breath from the brunette against your skin, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear as you finally opened your eyes.
You pulled back slightly to look at her, her eyes opening to meet your stare. Her pupils were dilated and you were sure yours looked similar. She looked so beautiful looking at you longingly, her lips swollen from the kiss and her breaths coming out labored, green eyes sparkling with lust and adoration.
“Wow,” you breathed out.
“Wow indeed,” she agreed, chuckling as she pulled you in for another kiss, this one much shorter than the first.
A comfortable silence fell over you, the two of you taking in the moment.
“So what now?” you asked, looking at her tenderly.
“I don’t know,” she answered, biting her lip. “It’s safe to say the friendship is ruined at this point, because I don’t want this to be the only time we do that.”
You nodded your agreement. “Me too,” you replied, your eyes falling to her lips once again. “I want you, Wanda. I have for so long.”
“I want you too,” she said without hesitation. “I’ll tell Vision it’s not working out. I want to see where this goes.”
You made a face at the mention of his name and Wanda chuckled. “Oh, you really don’t like him, huh?” She teased.
“Not one bit,” you murmured. “Not when he got to have what I wanted so badly.”
“Charmer.” She smiled at you, her cheeks turning red at your words.
“Can I kiss you again?” You blurted out, feeling your own cheeks redden at your neediness.
She responded by pressing her lips to yours once more and letting her tongue slide into your mouth, humming into the kiss contentedly.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, languidly kissing in the library after hours, catching up on lost time.
When you went back to your shared dorm for the night, you picked back up where you left off, this time with Wanda in your lap as you laid in your bed. Every once in a while, she’d grind her hips down against your lap just to hear you grunt in arousal against her lips.
You fell asleep together in your bed, Wanda’s head on your shoulder as her breathing evened out.
The following week, Wanda ended things with Vision and you took Wanda out on a proper date. Vision’s date paled in comparison to the one you took her on. This date was better simply because it was you and not him, but on top of that, you took her somewhere nice and treated her like a princess the whole night. She practically swooned every time you held the door for her, complimented her, or pulled out her chair for her.
By the end of the night, you were on cloud nine. It was just like spending time with your best friend, but this was infinitely better because you could kiss her whenever you wanted and tell her how beautiful she looked at any given moment.
You walked back to your dorm together, fingers interlocked as you listened to her talk about her dreams after college. When you made it back to the dorm, you opened the door to let her in first.
“Such a gentleman,” she joked, stepping in, and you followed.
“You wouldn’t be saying that if you knew what I wanted to do to you right now,” you said, pushing her against the door softly and looking at her for permission to kiss her.
A pang of arousal shot through her at your words. She wasn’t expecting you to be so bold, but she also wasn’t complaining. “Oh yeah?” she asked, playing along. “How about you show me?”
You didn’t hesitate as you kissed her hungrily, the feeling of her lips on yours making you feel dizzy with lust. You slipped your tongue into her mouth and she gasped at how eager you were, kissing you back with just as much fervor.
You trailed your kisses down to her neck, making her moan as you licked and sucked at the soft skin there. Her perfume invaded your senses and you groaned against her neck, her scent making your knees weak.
Her moans spurred you on as you sucked at her pulse point. She gripped your shoulders, her head thrown back against the door, eyes fluttering closed as you continued your assault on her neck.
She pulled you back up for another kiss, moaning into your mouth when you sunk your teeth into her bottom lip. When you finally pulled apart to catch your breath, you ran your thumb along her bottom lip, gazing into her lustful eyes.
“Are you sure about this?” You checked in with her, wanting to make sure she was really okay with what was about to happen.
“I’ve never been with a woman before,” she admitted, suddenly feeling shy. “But I want it to be you, please.”
You nearly groaned out loud hearing her beg for you, nodding as you lifted her up and carried her to your bed. You placed her down gently, crawling on top of her and kissing her again.
You once again began your descent, kissing her neck and sucking on her soft spots. She squirmed beneath you, feeling herself becoming wet under your touch.
Your fingers found the bottom of her shirt, playing with the fabric as you silently asked for permission to remove it. “Take it off,” Wanda whispered, starting to feel desperate from your slow teasing.
She sat up so you could pull the shirt off of her and reached back to unclasp her bra, letting the material fall from her shoulders. Your mouth fell open at the sight of her bare chest, nipples already hard. You’d seen her topless before while she was changing, but never like this. You’d never been allowed to look as much as you wanted, to admire her before you.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” you said, bringing your hands up to her chest as she leaned back again. Your thumbs brushed over her nipples, causing her to let out a whimper that sent heat coursing through your body.
You leaned in to take one of her nipples in your mouth, licking it gently before sucking on the hardened bud. Wanda moaned at that, the sound making you even more aroused. She sounded so pretty moaning under your touch and you couldn’t wait to hear what she sounded like when she came undone for you.
You gave her other nipple the same attention before moving down, one hand finding its way under her skirt. Your fingers reached her center, feeling a wet spot on the front of her underwear.
“You’re so wet for me,” you mumbled, in awe of how turned on she was. It almost made you feel a bit cocky, knowing it was you who made her so wet she was soaking through her panties.
“Please,” the brunette gasped out, bucking her hips up against your fingers. “Need you.”
“Yeah? You need me, pretty girl?” You cooed, rubbing your fingers along her slit over her underwear.
She nodded frantically, her hips desperately trying to meet your hand for any sort of friction against her aching pussy. You pushed aside her panties to touch her without any barriers and you let out a moan of your own at the soft, slick feeling of her folds against your fingertips. She was dripping, her wetness clinging to your skin and the lace of her panties as you dragged your fingers through her folds teasingly.
All of a sudden, you pulled your hand back and she whined, already missing the contact. “Shh, I’m just gonna take these off, okay?” You asked, subtly making sure she was comfortable with you removing the last of her clothes.
“Yeah,” she responded, lifting her hips so you could pull her skirt and panties off in one motion.
Once she was rid of her clothes, you took a moment to appreciate the view before you. Wanda was gorgeous all over, you thought to yourself, admiring her underneath you. You raked your eyes over her, committing the sight to memory as she blushed against the covers of your bed, feeling hot under your gaze.
“You can stare all you want later, right now I need you,” she said breathily, grabbing your hand and bringing it to where she needed you most. Your fingers met her wet center once more and you immediately started rubbing her clit, making her moan and buck her hips.
You kissed her again, swallowing her moans as you picked up your pace, making tight circles on her sensitive bundle of nerves.
“Fuck, just like that,” she whimpered, her face contorted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, heavy breaths escaping her as you brought her pleasure.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” you mumbled, watching her throw her head back and close her eyes as she got lost in the feeling of your fingers against her.
You stopped your movements just long enough to tease her entrance and upon hearing another “please,” you slid a finger inside. You fucked her with one finger for a few moments before sliding another one in, causing her to let out a guttural moan at the feeling of you stretching her out.
You kissed down her body again, making your way down to where you desperately wanted to taste her. When your hot mouth met her clit, she let out another delicious sound, her hips starting to grind against you, chasing her pleasure. Her movements caused her clit to rub against your tongue while your fingers pumped inside of her and she felt herself becoming close already.
“You taste so good,” you praised, barely moving your mouth from her pussy to speak, before reattaching your lips to her clit and sucking hard. She moaned at your words and at the pressure building in her lower stomach, continuing to rut her hips against you.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck, I’m so close,” she moaned, one hand coming to the back of your head to keep you there, as if you would ever deny her anything.
With a few more thrusts of your fingers, she came undone, loud moans filling the room as she reached her peak. Her hips stuttered against your face, her clit pulsing under your tongue while her pussy clenched around your fingers.
You slowed your movements, helping her ride out the aftershocks, small whimpers and moans leaving her as she came down from her high. She sighed, all of the tension having left her body, before pulling you up for a kiss, tasting herself on your tongue.
“I could get used that,” she hummed, smiling up at you tiredly.
“Me too,” you panted out, still incredibly turned on from seeing her cum for you. “I kinda can’t wait to do it again.”
“You want me that bad?” She teased, smirking.
“Absolutely,” you replied genuinely, staring at her with so much love and lust in your eyes it made her heart flutter and her pussy throb.
“Go ahead baby, fuck me again,” she said, your own cunt clenching around nothing at her words. You returned to your new favorite spot between her legs and did exactly what she told you, her hand in your hair guiding you the whole time.
After three more rounds, Wanda was spent, and you joined her at the head of the bed, letting her turn towards you and rest her head on your shoulder. You held her close as she traced patterns on your arm, catching her breath after falling apart for you so many times.
“Do you still need help with physics?” She asked, breaking the silence.
You chuckled at that. “Yes, desperately,” you responded, letting a hand come up to play with her hair. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”
She laughed, finding it amusing that you’d needed her help the past few weeks but were too stubborn to ask for it. “Study session this week?” she suggested, her eyes falling closed at the feeling of your fingers on her scalp.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” you said, smiling happily, feeling at peace in the arms of the girl you loved.
You never would’ve thought you would be so grateful for having to take a physics course, but now you were certain it was the best thing that had ever happened to you.
WARNINGS: THIS IS CRACK AND VERY UNSERIOUS! FT. AGGRESSIVE FLIRTING, oc is a big titty pansexual and the wendy’s robin hood, ellie is a butch-dyking, fry-dropping misandrist who frowns a lot, mentions of mary jay, MDNI: TIT AND SPIT PLAY, MILD DIRTY TALK
A/N: i literally have no plan for this it’s just for shits n gigs. obsessed with their dynamic lowkey first part LOL
This is not how Ellie thought she’d be spending her 15: outside at 11:47PM with her best friend calling her loose.
“This whole time, I thought, ‘wow, maybe Ellie has changed! Maybe she isn’t easy anymore’, but look at you! It took one hotbox and a hot box to—“
She massages her temples, “Riley—“
“I can’t lie and say y'all wouldn’t be hot together—Imma need that tape by the way, but Jesus Christ, get a grip—“
Why’d Ellie think confiding in her best friend about her new friend would be a good idea? Why’d she think befriending you in the first place was a good idea?
You’ve infiltrated her midnight sessions like a demonic witch. 3 days of pure torture: her waking up an hour before work steaming under her blankets, drenched in sweat and brain cursed with the image of you still with a full throat, only now… it follows her to work. Fuckass Wendy’s.
No one’s caught on—except for Riley, fuck her intuition—to the too long gazes shared between you, the playful shoulder bumps when you walk by her station, and the biggest one of all…
As Riley put it, “they’re not leaving a snail trail on the tile anymore. I think you tamed ‘em a little. Good for you, friend.”
But Ellie’s not trying to tame you. You can do, talk to, fuck, who and whatever you please. She doubts she’s made that much of an impact on you in such a short amount of time, but she does notice that you’re a bit more… chill? Chilled out? Still a menace, but slightly more selective with who you enchant.
That fucking shirt is still too tight, though.
And now, she wants to dunk whoever’s accepted your muted salaciousness into her 400 degree oil tank.
Ellie’s not a jealous person… She wasn’t, but there’s a deep sense of rage that overtakes her whenever men men men compliment you. It’s murderous, borderline sadistic what she envisions in her head while she throws their cheese slices on their limp. Dick. Fries. She despises their existence, wants nothing more than for them to die, or at the very least, shut the fuck up—
“I invited them over tonight.”
“… WHAT THE FUCK—“
… Yeah. Ellie felt so guilty about rain-checking you last week, but her cat got sick. Her baby wouldn’t stop vomiting.
A head pokes out from behind the back door, “Uh, y’all break ended 7 minutes ago.”
… Clock watcher. Maybe Ellie doesn’t hate all men. Jesse’s a guardian angel sent to protect her against the incoming force that is her best friend.
“BITCH, IT’S TUESDAY, WE’RE DEAD!” Riley shouts in his direction, “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE COMING OVER—“
“Who’s coming over? Coming here? Health inspectors?—“
“I needa pee.” Ellie’s already booking it towards the restroom, an excited Riley trucking close behind while Jesse panics about The Pope possibly eating at Wendy’s in the middle of fucking Wyoming.
“WHO’S COMING TONIGHT? HELLOOO—“
“YOU—YOU’RE FAKE AS HELL! YOU WAITED THIS LONG TO TELL ME ABOUT Y’ALL—“
“Shut up, I’m peeing, byeee, love ya, bye I needa pee, bye—“
The door shuts and locks, but she hears them yelling. A couple bangs on the door.
Just when she thought she found sanctuary…
“Hey.”
You stand by the mirror adjusting your tits in your tight ass shirt. All buttons are undone today, just her fucking luck.
“… You didn’t lock the door.”
“I wasn’t pissing.” You hold Pennifer up in your hand like a trophy, and Ellie snickers.
“Started without me?”
“Was fienin’,” With no hesitation, you offer it over, “Wanna pregame?”
She doesn’t mean to snatch it, but she’s a bit jittery. She puffs from, exhales in the opposite direction from you.
“I like when you do that.” Your tongue sounds larger in your mouth. Ellie has to puff again to keep from laughing.
“Do what. Get high on the job?” She whirs around smoke, but you ignore her.
“Tough night?” You nod towards the door that’s still being punched in by Riley.
“Somethin’ like that, yeah.”
“I HATE YOU, BITCH! NEXT TIME YOU WANNA SNEAK, LEMME KNOW—“
“Damn… what happened?”
“I just… I told her you were coming over tonight.” She hands Pennifer back.
Ellie’s surprised when you laugh. She half expected you to be irritated for snitching you both out to someone at work, was so prepared to ride for how trustworthy Riley is, that she wouldn’t get you both fired for workplace flirting and potential bathroom fondling.
But you don’t seem to care, just asks a simple question,
“Should I be concerned?”
She knows what you’re implying. Her head immediately shakes in denial. “I told you. Just a friend. She’s just nosy.”
“Alrighty,” you purr, and Ellie’s heart skyrockets when you take 2 steps closer. The bathroom suddenly feels like a funnel tube. Tight, closed-off, trapping, but she doesn’t leave. The door’s right there; she can’t bring herself to open it.
The pounding suddenly comes to a pause before irritated footsteps vacate the outside.
Ellie can’t stop the ache that blooms in her core or the watering of her mouth when both your hands rise to rest on your chest, the pudge poking through the gaps between your fingers. Either you're that soft, or you’re not wearing a bra.
“Buttons or no buttons?” Asked with fluttery lashes.
Ellie swallows. “One button.” For my fucking sanity, she wants to add, but you got enough ego to cover a goddamn army.
“Help me? Full hands ‘n allat.” That bottom lip juts out slightly and your lashes flutter, and it takes everything for Ellie to not press your face against this filthy ass door. Never in her life did she think she’d reach this level of depravity, but it’s been days. Days. She’s fucking starving for you.
Unfortunately, she has smidge of dignity, and wants you to keep yours.
So she buttons the last one, knuckles brushing against that small sliver of skin, taking in the way your pupils shake with every maneuver of her fingers. Your gaze alone could light a match. Start a forest fire. Burn this whole building to the fucking ground if you wanted.
“Thanks!” You say in your usual bushy-tailed tone, gently shoving Ellie aside to unlock and open the door. “Hi, favorite coworkers!”
The screaming stops, and Ellie’s head knocks back on the wall.
The last thing she wants to do is see her friends' faces. Riley’s hollering is enough.
“… WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON—“
Ellie’s sigh leaves her breathless.
—
“Welcome to my humble abode.”
Ellie shuts the door behind her, untangles her earplugs from around her neck to drop them, along with her keys, on the dining room table before shrugging her jacket off.
You were pretty quiet on the ride over. Made her a little nervous… A lot nervous.
“Why, thank you.” Ellie can’t hide her smile at your courtesy.
She watches your wandering eyes, moving all over her decorated walls, sloppy paint jobs, shredded up couch from kitten claws. She hopes you don’t notice the coffee stain that she could never remove.
“‘S very you.”
“I would hope so,” her feet carry her to the kitchen, “want a drink? I haaave…” She inspects her fridge. Empty, minus the to-go box, 3 beers, and 2 jugs of berry Minute Maid.
… Awkward. You’re a peckish pothead. Couldn’t even bother to get you a meal on the way home. Dumbass.
“Damn, bitch, no water?” You laugh, and Ellie huffs.
“You’re lucky I drank all my O-negative this morning. You’d be pissing yourself.”
“Sike, I’d buss it wide open for a vampire.”
She flushes before shutting the fridge and guiding you to the couch with a hand on your back.
“We matching? Or are you robbing me again?” You nudge her playfully before rummaging through your purse, and Ellie follows, pulling two jays out of her backpack.
Soon enough, your hands are stocked with Pennifer, a ziplock baggie of your own pre-rolls, and a… fucking butane lighter that your hand can barely close around.
“Goddamn—“
You cackle. “Shut up! Couldn’t find my pink one.”
“So you brought a fucking campfire?”
“If you’re gonna judge, you can spark yourself. Don’t mind m—“
Ellie snatches your lighter with an eye roll that borderline launches them to her brain, flickering the lighter on. It feels like a fucking fireplace. You’re ridiculous.
But you’re quiet. Ellie sparks the end with as much skill as you did last week.
Speaking of.
“Sorry I had to cancel a few days ago—”
“No need to be.”
“My cat got sick and it freaked me out. So. Yeah.”
“Aww, nooo,” you whine sympathetically. Even in your times of softness, that pout makes her lightheaded.
“Where's the baby? Is it okay?”
“He’s fine now. With my… dad.” She passes the jay to you. Watches you puff like a hawk, tinted chapstick smearing the edge. “I pick him up tomorrow.”
“That’s good. What’s the baby’s name?”
“Stewart.” She says stoically.
“… Is he orange?”
“Yes.”
“I can tell. He fucked this couch up.”
Ellie smiles. “You should see my room.”
“Is that an invite?”
Her heart stutters in her chest, but her gaze doesn’t falter from yours. She simply takes the joint from your grip, speaks around her puff.
“It’s whatever you want it to be.”
“Well.”
“Well what.” She pins.
“I want your mouth on my tits.”
“… And I want your tits in my mouth.” She speaks through a dry throat and a thrumming core, your tone set deep in her bones.
You nod your head once before unbuttoning the button she buttoned for you earlier, leaving your greasy cloth on the floor.
“Well… Lean.” Your hands gesture backwards.
And Ellie does, back pressed against her couch cushions, joint hanging from her fingers, almost as low as her eyes. Her suspicions were correct: you’re that soft and braless. You throw a leg over her lap, tits jiggling in her face.
She nearly yanks you down onto her lap when your lips curl around the joint, the orange end cresting like the sun in the morning.
“Suck on ‘em.” Smoke wafts in her face and she curses low and broken.
Your nipple beckons her lips and your hand flies to yank at her hair, pleased whines leaving your lips and vibrating down to her toes. She can barely gather the strength to rub on you like she wants; she’s too enraptured by your softness.
And your filth. That fucking mouth...
“You’re eating ‘em up like a fucking slut.” You whisper in astonishment before pressing a kiss atop her head. Ellie moans around you in response, tongue swirling messily around your areola before suctioning your nipple, drinking in your satisfied squeaks.
One of your nipples is more sensitive than the other. It's cute how loud you get when her teeth rub on them. Just an inch. Enough to get you jumping on her lap like a bunny.
They’re so heavy on her tongue, so soft in her mouth. She’s sure her jeans are staining with her slick… and yours. She can practically smell you.
“Ellie, ‘m—oh fuck, I might cum—“
Her muscles act on their own accord, her joint-less hand coming down to whack your ass, mouth popping off to spit sloppy on both your tits, rubbing her mess in with her tongue.
“You’re so hot, you’re so hot, m’cumming, ohhh fuck—“
Your arm closes tight on the back of her neck, shoving her face tight against your breasts and she accepts that she’ll happily die here: under you, trapped by your scent and your skin and your yipped thanks for the nut.
You have to shove Ellie off your tits after your comedown, thighs clamping shut on her lap when her teeth nick your more sensitive nip, her mouth matching your chest in wetness.
“Fuck.” She exhales, head plummeting on the back of the couch. Tokes one last time. Blows it in your face between giving you one.
“I thought you were a fucking prude when I met you. My fault.” You exhaust through heaves and clouds. She shakes her head uncaringly, massages your tit just to watch you twitch.
“You want another one?” She asks plainly despite the throbbing between her thighs.
“… You serious?”
“Yeah.”
“Sure… After you show me what’s in your nightstand.”
free use with els ؛ fingering u while u talk about ur day
“so, maria had me hauling supplies all morning...” you say, your voice breaking as you sinked back into the couch, your legs parted just enough for ellie’s hand to slip lower.
“It was—it was nonstop, my back’s killing me.” she chuckles, her fingers pushing your panties aside, finding you wet already, fingers circling your clit.
“poor baby..” she murmurs, voice all mock sympathy eyes locked on yours, watching you squirm. “keep talkin’ though, im listenin. tell me more.” her fingers dip lower one sliding inside you, slow and deep, you gasped your words stumbling.
“ellie! shit...” you moan your voice catching, hips twitching toward her hand as you try to focus, gripping the couch cushion.
“then—uh—tommy kept bitching about the fence repairs, like im supposed to—mhhp fix everything myself.” your voice breaks as she adds a second finger, curling them, pumping slow, her thumb brushing your clit.
“sounds like a lotta bullshit..” she whisper leaning closer, her breath hot against your neck, her fingers relentless, stretching you out, the sounds loud in the quiet room.
“you’re doin’ so good, though.. talkin’ through it while i fuck you. my tough girl, huh?” her words are sweet but teasing, her free hand gripping your thigh, keeping you spread.
“ellie, you’re—fuck, you’re not making this easy...” you whine, your voice high and needy head tipping back as your thighs trembled, her fingers thrust deeper, faster, her thumb circling harder.
“i—i was gonna say, then i had to— right there—deal with this kid who kept stealing tools, and—oh!” she laughs, her lips brushing your ear, her fingers pausing just enough to make you whimper.
“kid sounds like a pain in the ass.” she cooed her voice low, resuming her rhythm, slower, torturing you. “you good, babe? want me to stop so you can tell your story?” her tone is all innocence, but her smirk says she knows you won’t say yes.
her fingers curled, hitting that spot that makes you moan loud, your body betraying you. “don’t you dare stop.” you gasp, your voice raw, grabbing her wrist, urging her deeper, your hips rocking against her hand. “fuck, ellie! keep going, please, feels so— so good.”
“that’s what i thought.” she murmurs thrusting harder, her fingers slick, her thumb relentless, her eyes locked on your face, drinking in every moan, every shudder. “love hearin’ you like this, babe, all whiny and needy while you try to talk, tell me more, c’mon, what else happened?”
you try, your voice shaky, disjointed “i—uh —had to— fuck, ellie, i can’t—had to fix the gate, and—oh—it was freezing, my hands were—shit, faster.” ur words dissolve into moans, your body trembling, the pleasure too much, her fingers fucking you deep, her thumb circling fast, pushing you closer to the edge.
“freezing huh?” she teases leaning down, kissing your neck, biting softly her hand gripping your thigh harder. “bet i can warm you up, babe, cum for me, yeah?”
“ellie!” you cry your voice shattering, orgasm hitting as your body trembled clenching tight around her fingers, pleasure crashing through you.
she keeps going her fingers slowing but not stopping, drawing every shudder from you, her lips brushing your jaw. “fuck, that’s my girl, so goddamn pretty.”
not so gentle reminder from a criminal justice major: law enforcement all across the country (DHS/ICE included) gets an average of roughly in $135B in funding while social programs and fire departments have to rely on the local government and often don’t get the resources they need. But hell yeah, let’s get the piggies more rubber bullets and undercover cars while ppl run into burning buildings for $2 and a goddamn hotdog. 😍
꩜ synopsis: a harmless campus interview turns your best friend into an overnight internet sensation—and suddenly, every thirsty TikTok comment feels like it’s whispering your secret.
☆ art cred: @/juvianism on instagram :3
You nearly spill your coffee all over your Political Theory textbook when you unlock your phone. Another two hundred comments on that TikTok. You know you shouldn't check—you probably watched it about a million times yesterday alone—but your fingers move before your brain can scream at you to stop.
@/bookslvt01: ok but the way he talks about virginia woolf??? NEED HIM CARNALLY
@/colossalthighs: i’d let him annotate my entire body fr
@/arlertmeout: he looks like he apologises before choking you
You bite your lip, half-entertained and half-horrified, scrolling through the endless comments under what was supposed to be an innocent campus interview. The video has 2.3 million views now, completely insane for something filmed outside the modest main library—the same one you find yourself in at the moment—on a random Tuesday.
"Ugh, don’t tell me. You're watching it again, aren't you?"
Your head snaps up comically quick, caught red-handed, to find Sasha sliding into the seat across from you at your usual table, eyeing your phone screen with knowing amusement.
"What? No."
"You are! You have that weird, glazed look in your eyes. The same one you get when Professor Ackerman extends the deadline for our research papers." Sasha unwraps what appears to be her third sandwich of the day. You don't mention how it’s only twelve in the afternoon. "You know you could just talk to him about it, right? He's literally one of your best friends."
"And say what exactly?" you finally close the godforsaken app, trying to ignore how your screen time report is definitely going to be embarrassing this week. "Hey Armin, I've watched your viral video more times than I can remember and I'm having very inappropriate thoughts about your tongue piercing that I absolutely shouldn't be having about my friend?"
Sasha snickers, a piece of lettuce tumbling to the table from her mouth. "Well, when you put it like that... actually, yes. One hundred percent that."
"Sasha, I can't just—" you frown in frustration, inhaling deeply. "It's complicated."
"How is it complicated? You've had a crush on him since freshman year."
"That was different. That was before we became friends. Before I knew him." You lean back in your chair, staring at the ceiling as fond memories overwhelm you. "Back then he was just this cute, nerdy guy in my intro psych class who got excited about statistical analysis and always smelled like that vanilla body wash I love. I used to sit behind him just to watch him get all animated during discussions about cognitive behavioural theory, you know?"
Sasha merely rolls her eyes. "Jesus, and you call me demented. Well, what about now?"
"Now? Now, he's Armin. He's my friend who stays up until 3 A.M. to help me with my assignments, who brings me soup when I'm sick, who texts me the dumbest memes about historical figures," you slump forward, close to pouting. "He's the guy who spent six hours teaching me how to play that MMO he's obsessed with just because I mentioned being bored over winter break. He's..."
"He's the guy you're infatuated with," Sasha supplies helpfully.
"I'm not," you start to protest, then wisely opt to give up instead. "Okay, maybe. But that's exactly the problem. I can't risk blowing up our friendship just because some stupid interview made me realise I want to climb him like a tree."
"A tree with a tongue piercing," Sasha adds with a cheeky grin.
"Fuck’s sake, don't remind me," you let your head rest against the table. "Do you know how many times I've replayed that two-second clip where he licks his lips? It's pathetic."
"It's not pathetic, it's kind of sweet. There's a difference." Sasha takes another bite of her sandwich, her eyes evidently lighting up. "Besides, you don't know that he doesn't feel the same way. Have you seen how he looks at you during our study sessions? Boy's got it bad."
"He looks at me like a friend, Sasha. Because that's what we are."
"Believe me, friends don't look at friends the way he looked at you last Friday when you were explaining your thesis argument. I thought he was going to combust from sexual tension."
Before you can blatantly disagree, you hear an all too familiar voice behind you.
"Sexual tension about what now?"
Your stomach drops directly through the floor. You turn around carefully, and there he is—Armin Arlert, campus's newest digital sensation, standing there with that signature bemused expression he gets when he catches you and Sasha gossiping. His blonde hair is mussed like he's been running his hands through it, and he's wearing that adorable blue sweater that brings out his eyes deliciously.
"Oh, um..." You scramble for an explanation, panicking on the inside. "We were just talking about... about..."
"About how Professor Ackerman's lectures are basically academic foreplay," Sasha jumps in smoothly. "All that tension and buildup with no satisfying conclusion. I mean, hello?"
Armin laughs, the sound warm and comforting. "That's fascinatingly accurate, I’ll admit." He shifts his weight, and you only then notice he's carrying his laptop bag and what seems to be a bag of takeout. "Mind if I join you? I brought Thai food and figured you might be hungry since you've been here since—," he checks his phone, "—9 A.M., according to the text you sent complaining about how it’s criminal that the library opens so early on weekends."
Your heart does a little flip at his consideration. "You didn't have to do that."
"I wanted to." He slides into the chair next to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne—a rich blend of velvety caramel and toasted cinnamon that positively makes you want to lick him all over.
Stop. None of that, you horny bastard.
"Besides, I figured you might want to hear about the latest developments in my accidental internet fame."
Sasha perks up at once. "Hell, yeah. Have you been recognised on campus yet?"
"Five times yesterday," Armin appears to lament, pulling containers out of the bag. "Including once in the bathroom, which was... awkward, to say the least." He hands you your usual order without asking what you want. "But the weirdest part is definitely the DMs."
"DMs?" you pipe up, failing to ignore how domestic this feels what with him knowing exactly what you like. Typical, precious Armin.
"You have no idea," he opens his laptop and turns it toward you two with a nervous twitch. "I've gotten marriage proposals, offers to 'show me a good time,' and at least a hundred messages asking about my tongue piercing specifically."
Your face burns as you push away the thought that you've been mentally composing similar messages. "That's... wow."
"The worst part is, most of them are asking if I'd be interested in demonstrating its uses." He fidgets with his glasses, coming across as embarrassed but also endearing. "I had no idea that thing would cause such a reaction."
"Well, it is pretty noticeable," Sasha remarks with a meaningful peek at you. "Very... attention-grabbing."
"I guess." Armin glances at you pointedly. "What do you think? You've seen the video, right?"
The question is innocent enough, but something in his tone makes you look at him more carefully. There's an out-of-the-ordinary implication that you can't quite put your finger on. "Uh... yeah, I've seen it," you manage to croak out. Terrific. Could you get any stiffer?
"And?"
"And what?"
"What did you think?"
You stare at him blankly, trying to figure out if this is a normal friend question or if you’re incorrectly perceiving the foreign edge of curiosity behind it. "I thought... I mean, your book recommendations were really good. Very passionate."
"Passionate," he repeats, the fleeting flash of understanding across his face confirming your earlier weariness. "That's interesting."
Sasha's phone cuts through the uneasiness with its incessant buzzing, and she scans it with obviously fake surprise. "Oh no, would you look at that. I have to go... meet... someone... about... a... very real thing... I have." She begins gathering her stuff with awfully suspicious speed. "You two have fun talking about books. And passion. And tongue piercings."
"Huh? Wait. Sasha—" you squeak out, but she's already dashing out of the private study room you had booked for the both of you until late afternoon (traitor). Which leaves you alone with Armin, who's scrutinising you with an expression you can't quite read.
"Alright," he speaks after a moment, closing his laptop and leaning back in his chair. "Want to tell me what you actually thought about the video?"
"I already told you."
"No, you gave me the safe answer." He tilts his head slightly, studying you with purpose. "Come on, we've been friends for two years. I know when you're holding back."
You hastily shove some noodles in your mouth, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not holding back."
"Really? Because Sasha seemed to think you had some important opinions about it."
You make a mental note to start drafting your plan for the girl’s well-deserved comeuppance. "Sasha talks too much."
"She does," Armin agrees. "But she's usually right about things. Especially when it comes to you."
The rarely there confidence in his tone makes you look up and, when you meet his gaze, the intensity catches you off guard. "What do you want me to say?"
"Did you know," he continues conversationally, "that TikTok shows you analytics about who's viewed your videos?"
Almost instantly, your heart stops. "What?"
"Mhm. Very detailed analytics. Including multiple views from the same account." His lips quirk up in a small smile. "Want to guess how many times your account shows up in my viewer list?"
You feel heat creeping up your neck. "I don't know what you're talking about." You briefly consider denying reality, blaming a technical issue, or claiming a glitch in the matrix—but none of it sticks.
"Seventy-seven times," he announces, the metaphorical checkmate hitting you straight in the chest. "As of this morning."
Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god. He knows. "I can explain—"
"Can you?" He angles himself forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Because I've been trying to figure out why my very good friend has watched a boring thirty-second video of me talking about books seventy-seven times."
You want to run away, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I... the algorithm is weird sometimes?"
Armin chuckles, low and warm, absent of any malice. "Try again."
"I was checking to see if the view count was going up?"
"Nope."
You're quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to get out of this without completely humiliating yourself. You don't suppose it's too late to jump out of a window? Ultimately, you sigh in defeat. "Okay, fine. Maybe I watched it a few times."
"A few?"
You narrow your eyes, crossing your arms in defiance at the unsolicited endless interrogation. "More than a few."
"How many more?"
You want to strangle him, and not in the sexy way. "You’re being annoying."
"Come on." His voice has dropped slightly lower, and there's something almost akin to teasing in it. "I told you about the marriage proposals. Fair's fair."
You mutter a profanity under your breath, groaning. "Fine. I watched it a lot. Happy?"
"No. We’re getting there, though. Why?"
"Why what?"
Armin’s glee sharpens into something ravenous, a flicker of desperation lurking beneath his carefree demeanour—like he’s itching for you to say exactly what he needs. "Why did you watch it seventy-seven times?"
Your lungs feel too tight, too exposed. "Because..."
"Because?"
"Because you looked really good, okay?" The words come out in a rush. "Because watching you talk about literally anything is incredibly attractive, and because that frustrating part where your tongue piercing shows has been tormenting me ever since the video came out."
The silence that follows is eerily deafening. Armin simply stares at you, and you wish the ground would swallow you whole.
"Shit," you grumble, burying your face in your hands. "I'm sorry. That was completely out of line. I know we're friends and I shouldn't have—"
"Hey. Look at me."
The way he asks convinces you to peep through your fingers, reluctant but unable to look away. His expression is attentive and focused—definitely not one of disgust.
"You think I'm attractive?" he questions softly.
"I... yes?"
He blinks, his usual calm shattered by the raw vulnerability in your voice. His fingers tremble, revealing the fierce hope inside that there’s a potential chance that someone sees him as more than the sum of his quirks. "Even though I'm just a loser who gets excited about obscure paranormal documentaries and spends too much time playing video games?"
"Especially because of that," you admit, having never been more sure of yourself.
His answering smile is slow and devastating. "Good to know."
"Good to know?"
He hums, reaching across the table, and gently pulls your hands away from your face. "I've been wondering if you'd ever see me as more than just your friend who helps you with your homework."
Your brain, without a doubt, malfunctions. "What?"
"Did you really think I started bringing you food and staying up late just because I'm a good friend?"
The words disarm you. You’re trapped between incredulity and the dawning comprehension of what he might be suggesting. "I…"
"And did you think I learned how to play your favourite songs on guitar just because I had time to spare?"
"Y-you said you wanted to practice—"
"And I presume you thought I got this piercing because I was feeling rebellious?"
That stops you short, confusion apparent in the furrow of your brows. "You didn't?"
Armin's grin turns almost predatory. "I got it because I overheard you and Sasha talking about how cool you find them. This was back in October, after you'd been dating that guy with the lip ring."
You feel like a kettle left on the stove too long. "You... what?"
"You said, and I quote, 'There's something about tongue piercings that's beyond exciting.’ Something along the lines of how the person has to be bold enough to get it, but there's the simultaneous insinuation of what they can do with it."
"I’m going to kill myself," you gape at him in horror. "You heard all of that?"
"I was sitting right behind you in the campus coffee shop. You weren’t exactly shy about it." He shifts closer, and you can spot the hint of silver when he speaks, "I made an appointment that very afternoon."
"You got a tongue piercing because of something I said about another guy?"
"I got a tongue piercing because I wanted to be the guy you were talking about."
The confession hangs in the air between you, charged and electric. You stare at him, trying to process this complete change in everything you thought you knew about your friendship.
"I've been trying to get your attention for months. I was starting to think I'd have to do something drastic."
In spite of being made to face terrifying revelation after revelation, you manage to stutter out a breathless laugh. "More drastic than getting a tongue piercing for me?"
"I was considering learning to play your favourite video game."
You snort despite yourself. "You hate that game."
He shrugs casually, as if the lengths to which he would go for you knew no bounds. "I know. That's how desperate I was getting."
The atmosphere between you feels tense now, full of possibility and two years of unspoken tension. Armin traces your knuckles and the simple touch sends heat shooting up your arm.
"So," you say, trying to stay as composed as you possibly can. "What happens now?"
"Now," he starts, standing up, "you tell me what exactly you were thinking about during those seventy-seven views."
He's close enough that you have to tilt your head back to look at him, and the unwavering want in the blue of his eyes makes your breath catch. "I was thinking..." you trail off, feeling timid with his attention on you.
"You can do it. Use your words for me?" his voice has gotten rougher, huskier, and it sends delightful shivers down your spine.
"I was thinking about what it would feel like."
"What would feel like?"
"Your piercing. When you..." You gesture vaguely, cheeks burning. Armin's hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your bottom lip. "When I what?"
"When you kiss me," you whisper.
"Just kissing?" The question is loaded with underlying intentions, and you shake your head slowly.
"Tell me what else you were thinking about."
"Armin..."
"Please." The plea is hushed but insistent. "I want to know what's been going through your head."
You swallow, your throat suddenly dry as you let go of the entirety of your self-restraint. "I was thinking about what it would feel like on my body. What it would feel like when you use your mouth on me."
His pupils immediately dilate at your words. "Fuck."
"Is that... is that okay?"
Instead of verbally affirming, he leans down and kisses you. It's gentle at first, tentative, but when you react by fisting your hands in his sweater and pulling him closer, he deepens it. The first brush of his tongue against yours has you gasping, and when you feel the metal of his piercing, it sends intoxicating pleasure shooting through you.
You break apart, breathing heavily, and Armin rests his forehead against yours.
"How was that?" he asks earnestly, voice raspy.
"Good," you breathe. "Really good."
His smile is full of care but there's primal desire behind it. "And the piercing?"
"Want more of it."
He brushes his thumb across your lip again. Truth be told, it’s plain torture. "You know, we're in public right now."
Every wall you built is crumbling under the weight of him, and all you can do is let it. "I know."
"Anyone could walk by and see us."
"I know."
"And you don't care?"
You drag your hand up his thigh, stopping just shy of where he clearly wants it, "Not even a little bit."
He kisses you again, harder this time, and you can't help the soft moan that escapes when his tongue meets yours in another dance of display. The sound seems to flip a switch in him, because his hands are tangling in your hair and he's pressing you back against your chair.
"God, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he murmurs against your lips.
"Tell me ‘Min."
"Since freshman year. Since that first day in psych class when you argued with Professor Smith about the ethics of behavioural modification."
You draw away just barely, shaking under the intimacy of his declaration. "That long?"
"That long." He doesn’t think twice before trailing his teeth along your jaw, and when the metal of his piercing digs into your flushed skin, you whimper needily.
"You were so assertive, so brilliant. I was completely and utterly gone."
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you were dating that business major asshole, and then when you broke up, we became friends,” he hesitantly halts his ministrations to flutter his eyelashes at you, “I-I didn't want to ruin it."
Good heavens, you didn’t stand a chance from the beginning.
"But then you kept looking at me like... like you wanted me too, and I started hoping..."
"I did want you. I do want you." The admission comes out whinier than intended, but you can’t bring yourself to be bothered at this point. "So much."
His hands tighten in your hair. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You’re unaware of how many minutes pass as you lose yourself in the sensation of his mouth on yours, and the way he tastes like mint and something uniquely him. You dig your nails lightly into his sides, claiming him in an act of fervent possession. His breaths mingle with yours and the world outside your tangled bodies fades until there’s nothing but lust burning between you. By the end of it, your chests rise and fall in tandem.
"We should probably get out of here," he mumbles, peeking around the library.
Craving Armin has left you dazed, vision glassy as you attempt to make sense of your surroundings. "Right. Um, your place or mine?"
He pecks your nose, full of affection, tenderly guiding you. "Mine. My roommate's gone for the weekend."
You start gathering your things with shaky hands, hyperaware of the way Armin is observing you. When you bend over to pick up your bag, you hear his sharp intake of breath.
"Something wrong?" you ask innocently.
"N-nothing," he mutters, skittishly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
The walk to his dorm feels like it takes forever, full of stolen glances and the kind of anticipation that makes your skin feel too tight. When you reach his room, he fumbles with his keys for a moment—so fucking cute—before getting the door open.
You haven’t had a lot of time this semester to crash at his dorm—neat and organised, with anime posters on the walls and stacks of books and manga everywhere. But you barely have time to take it in before he's pressing you against the closed door, urgency lacing his actions.
This time, there's nothing apprehensive about it. His hands are everywhere—your waist, your back, squeezing your ass—and when you arch against him, he makes a low sound of approval.
"You taste so good," he shudders against you. "Everything I’ve imagined and so much more."
"You imagined this?"
"Every night for two years." His mouth moves to your neck, nibbling along your throat. "What you'd look like, what you'd sound like when I made you come."
The words send heat pooling low in your belly, prompting you to press your thighs together instinctively. "Fuck, don’t say shit like that.”
"Why not? I’ve been longing for you. All of you," he whispers, pulling back to look at you with dark, lidded eyes. "You’re not getting away until I’ve had my fill."
It would be an understatement to say that you hadn’t foreseen this when you woke up today. That you'd be spending hours with your legs over Armin's shoulders, forgetting your own name; the compassionate, stammering genius the internet drooled over. Too bad he’s not on the market. It would be a treat if his fans could see him like this—flushed and breathless, fingers gripping your hips like he’d die without you. Armin Arlert, golden boy of TikTok, practically begging to let him ruin you.
You grow dizzy at the promise in his voice. "Please."
He lets his hand trail lower, indecently tranquil, and just as you think he’ll do something reckless—he pauses, smirking wickedly.
"Want to find out what this piercing really feels like when I eat you out?"
The art in this banner is from my AMAZING moot @sweetlandspos who makes the most delicious Kuna art ahhh! go follow her <3
pairings - Fratboy Plug Sukuna x Nerdy stoner reader
summary You decide to ask your plug, Ryomen Sukuna for a hook up - but can he match your freak!? Just a fun ass oneshot about falling for your hot ass plug - he won't give you free weed though! :') WC- 11k
warnings - college AU, explicit sex, oral ( m and f receiving) Sukuna whimpering, reader is a nerdy lil freaakkk, weed smoking, jealousy, Sukuna talking shit, p in v sex - with and without protection, cum swallowing (both) tummy bulges, back shots, Kuna has piercings hehe, aftercare, Sukuna being a little yandere tbh
Comments/rbs so appreciated if you enjoyy - also I hit 18k followers the other day, I wanted to thank you all so muchhh for following me! :')
"What if we like... had sex?" Sukuna starts coughing up the thick smoke of his purple haze, wondering if it's fucking laced with something as you sit there, blunt in your hand and your legs crossed, casually smoking it as if you brought up the fucking weather.
"The fuck did you say!?" He demands after he catches his breath, you inhale your blunt now, you're by far his nerdiest client, you shocked him when you asked to buy from him the first time.
You scream good girl, certified Velma from Scooby-Doo - annoying 'actually - jinkies' nerd. The two of you even hanging out was a fucking anomaly, a mathlete and a frat boy, one he didn't try to figure out. He enjoyed selling weed to you and smoking with you, hearing your stupidly intelligent thoughts, he enjoyed looking at you too. Sure you were fucking gorgeous in that soft, sweet way.
So what the fuck was this!?
"It's been a while," you murmur, handing him the blunt back now, he takes a huge rip, coughing again as you speak. "If I'm not really your type it's cool."
"If you're... you... I..."
"Shit, it's fine. Calm down. Just was thinking it'd be fun." He keeps staring at you, mouth wide open, and you sigh, rolling your eyes. "Dude it's fine don't freak out. Forget it."
"Forget it? The fuck?" He's glaring ruby eyes at you, while you take a wad of money out of your little black backpack, decorated with anime pins all over and a ridiculous amount of keychains.
"Here," you hand him the cash, fingers brushing for a moment while he just stares. "Shit, I made it weird."
"Yeah you fucking did. Who just says that?" He glares right at you, thin brows low over his narrowed eyes, those sooty pink lashes too fucking pretty and long, god you're jealous of them!? Are they so pretty because you're baked?
"Sukuna, you've fucked like half the girls I know, I have heard you're pretty good at it." He blinks again at that, a rare blush to his cheeks, not fitting his cocky persona while you put out the blunt, letting it smoke against the tray. "Here's the money. Thanks again."
You turn, and he grips your wrist, pausing you, it feels way too good. Not only has it been way too long, Sukuna was fucking hot, every time he got too close you felt that heat, you literally clenched when he just brushed a big hand across your shoulder to grab something. And your boyfriend broke up with you six months ago, you thought maybe it would be fun to fuck him, Sukuna is sexy as fuck and chill. Now you want to disappear, clearly reading the room wrong as usual.
You suck at that.
"You wanna fuck me? What, like... some friends with benefits? Or one time shit?" He stands, hovering so fucking tall, you turn and look at him, blazed whites of his eyes red, you swallow nervously, eyeing the tattoos on his chest in that thin white wifebeater that's just unfair to wear around you while you're ovulating, you can see his nipple piercings through it, and it's doing too much.
"I thought like once, if we liked it sure we could do it more. If we're both single and... get along... plus you're hot."
"Yeah I am." He grins and you roll your eyes.
"You know... never mind."
"Wait brat, shit." You sigh, looking up at him now, as he turns you to him, his cock twitching just looking at your dilated eyes behind thick glasses, your parted lips. His fingers brush against the softness of your sweater, watching your nipples press against the material.
"It's cool if you don't want to. Like I am chill about it promise." He fingers the edge of your sweater, blitzed off his ass wondering if you're some fucking dream for a moment. But he feels the heat of your skin as his fingers slip up your waist.
"Think you can keep up with me, huh brat?" He murmurs then, snarky with his smirk. You step closer, your finger drifting up his hard chest.
"The question is if you can keep up with me, Sukuna." He scoffs at that, raising a brow that has two little barbells - eyebrows shouldn’t be so sexy, but then Ryomen Sukuna just is sexy, everything about him from his tattoos and piercings, to his ridiculously strong body. His height, his face… his eyes.
It’s no wonder girls do flock to him.
“Me, keep up with you?” He’s chuckling now, sitting on the couch, legs spread wide, impossibly cocky as he eyes you, acting like his heart isn’t racing when you set down your bag. “You won’t get any free weed from it.”
“I don’t want free weed, and you’re kind of an ass.” He chuckles again, when you sink to your knees however he falters, vermillion lips parted, you unbuckle him and look right under your glasses at him then, smiling just a bit.
Are you… cocky too!?
Sukuna hasn’t ever had this happen, someone just smiling as they unbuckle him with ease, he’s sure though when you see his cock you’ll pause. He’s a solid ten inches and thick as fuck, even if you’re some dick sucking pro, you’re gonna give pause. Your eyes widen then, licking your lower lip, making him ache to kiss you.
What are these corny ass thoughts!? He’s scowling at them, irritated that you on your knees has him, Sukuna, nervous!? Since when is he nervous about shit- and when you’re revealing him, and he doesn’t even help you tug down his black silky boxers, you let out a little whine that almost ends him. His hand enwraps in your hair, and your eyes meet his again.
Why are they so pretty? Why is he thinking that instead of being excited to get a blow job, as usual? You’re running your finger over his tip, making his hips jerk just a bit, moaning softly. “Are you sensitive, Sukuna?”
“Am I… you’re a brat, ya know that?” He glares as you giggle, acting like his cock isn’t way too fucking big, and you’re figuring out if you’ll be able to walk after this. “Stop teasing and show me what you got, running that pretty mouth huh?”
His thumb brushes the plump lower lip, you stroke him then, looking right at him as the rough pad of his thumb caresses soft lips, calloused from years of football but so gentle over little teeth indentations on your skin. You swallow, a little nervous suddenly, before taking a breath and leaning forward, pink tongue lapping at the precum already oozing from his slit.
Sukuna whimpers when you do.
You think you imagine it, this giant man whimpering, but as you lap again at his reddened tip, your hand slipping down his thick length, he does it again, quieter, hand pulling your hair so hard tears prick your eyes. The sight is so sexy you can’t take it, taking more of his thick tip deep in your mouth then, looking up as you suck him, your glasses fogging up from your breath.
“Oh, fuck…” He shakes it off, biting back another pathetic whimper as you start sucking hard then, he’s acting like he’s controlling your movements but he’s just pulling your hair, watching as you make more and more of his cock disappear. “Can you take more, brat?”
“Sure can,” you taunt, pulling back with a suctioned pop, but he is intimidating. But damned if you would back down from a challenge. You have next to no gag reflex, but you’ve never had a cock this big to contend with. You start sucking him deeper, head bobbing, the sounds of your saliva and his cock fucking your mouth lewd in Sukuna’s apartment.
The sight of him losing it as you suck his cock deeper in your throat, until he’s burning and stretching it with his thrusts is far too attractive, you can’t help but clench your thighs, grinding on nothing for friction watching him. His red eyes are bright, pupils shrunk to pinpoints as he fucks into your throat, the mix of need and the weed making you even wetter.
Whatever strain this was, it was making you unreasonably horny.
“That’s it, suck me deeper if you can,” he taunts softly, hips bucking up as he cups your face almost gently, fucking your throat so deep, feeling it tighten as you reach down and play with yourself under your skirt. “Fuck, fuck, fuuckk…”
You’re swallowing all you can, relaxing your throat as you find your clit, moaning then and vibrating right around his cock as he fucks your face. Your hair falls, and he uses one hand to hold it into a ponytail, letting out the weak little whine again while you slide two little fingers in your slick hole, aching for his cock inside you - even if you couldn’t walk the next day.
You’re thinking of how perfect all the ridges and veins would feel while you keep fingering yourself, tears pricking your eyes, glasses so fogged you can hardly see. He’s so close to cumming from just a few minutes of your mouth it’s pathetic, he yanks you off him then, looking down and seeing your hand between your thighs.
“What’re you-” You’re slipping your panties off eagerly then, straddling him and making his breath catch when you grind on his cock. “Let me touch you, fuck…”
“Don’t need it.” He glares ruby eyes at your audacity- he’ll be damned if he doesn’t get to touch your body, your tits that are enticing him with every breath, that soppy little pussy.
“Well I do, fuck you’re slutty, huh?” You ignore him, focusing on how good his hot, heavy cock feels between your slit, whining out when he yanks down your sweater, revealing your lacy bra.
“Fuck me, please,” he huffs at that, revealing a pretty breast and moaning, thumb brushing over your pretty nipple, making you whine. “Ah!”
“Let me take my time, shit,” he mumbles, sucking your nipple into his mouth then, your hands entangle in spiky pink locks, feeling the softness of his hair as his other hand grips your ass under your skirt, dragging you over his cock. “This soaked, how? Haven’t touched you.”
“Touched myself,” he glares again, sucking your other nipple, having both your perfect breasts out for his mouth, while his hands sink into your hips, grinding that cock against your clit then, watching your head fall back. “Mnh!”
“You touched yourself, sucking me got you that excited?” He taunts, only for you to reach down, stroking his cock again, watching the blush on his cheeks as you move it up and down, twisting your fist just so. “Fuck…”
“Condoms?” You whisper, he nods, tapping your hip real quick for you to get off him. When he’s back with a gold magnum from the drawer, you’re straddling him again, but he’s lifting you up, sinking two of his fingers in your cunt now, and you whine out at the stretch. “Ah!”
“God, you’re tight… fuck…” He groans as his fingers curl inside your slick, gummy walls, gripping him so good, watching your eyes roll back into your skull. “Think you can take this cock, really?”
“Y-yes, I c-can…” he chuckles, shaking his head and hitting your spongy spot now, making your cunt gush down his fingers as you cry out.
“Cum f’me first,” he murmurs - he would never let a girl not cum before he gets his cock in her. He’d love to eat you out but you’re not giving him many chances to do shit. He’d love to kiss you, but he’s leaning back watching you fall apart for him, nodding just a bit when he curls them just right in your hole, gasping. “That’s it, can’t help yourself can you, slutty little brat?”
You should be offended, but you’re shattering for his thick fingers, gushing as the orgasm smacks you, rushing all over your body until you’re making a mess, the sound loud and echoing as he groans. Watching you cum, intense as he stares, something you’re not used to - gasping out when he sucks your juices off his fingers, moaning while he cheeks hollow.
He’s tasting you.
The sight has you faltering for a moment, cunt pulsing from aftershocks as you watch him, hearing his moan, when he hands you the gold wrapper. “Fuck, you taste that good?”
“It could be the weed,” you tease, breathless. He chuckles a bit, leaning forward, pressing a kiss on your lips, unsure of what you were okay with. But you meet his lips, and that’s when Sukuna almost cums then and there, he’s never felt whatever the fuck that is. “Mmm, your lips are so soft.”
“Surprise you?” He teases, but you nod a bit, a rough man with plush lips so soft they’re pillowy is surprising. “Take what you want, brat.”
God he’s fine as fuck.
You’re hiding your nerves when you tear open the packet, slipping it over his huge cock, did it get bigger, harder somehow!? Even the magnum barely stretches over him as you roll it down his shaft slowly, watching his sooty pink lashes flutter as you do. His lips kiss yours again, and you taste yourself on his lips, when his tongue slips into your mouth.
A mix of weed and your juices, along with something sweet - whatever flavor Sukuna is.
It’s too intimate then, yeah you’ve last fucked your boyfriend, but you’re not inexperienced either with hook ups or a friend with benefits. You’re choosy, but you’ve done this - but for whatever reason your heart races as he lets you take what you want, as his tongue ring clicks against your teeth, and you picture how good it’d feel everywhere, your tummy tightening.
The scent of the weed still smoking out in that ash tray mixes with his cologne, heady and dizzying, your glasses get so fogged you take them off, earning his chuckle as he pulls them off, sitting them on the table. “You blind now?”
“Literally… I can still see you though.” You whisper, it makes his heart race, seeing your eyes without them for the first time, he cups your face as you rub his latex covered tip on your soppy cunt.
“Pretty fucking eyes, shit,” he curses then, seeing them grow lidded, as your tight little hole starts sucking him in.
“Fuck…”
You both whisper it at the same time, as you sink down on his cock, bit by bit, and he can’t help his moan, loud as his hands move to grip your skirt, yanking it up and using it to pull you down. Your gasp fills his ears with the squelching of your greedy, slutty little cunt sinking more and more on him, and he can’t help but think if he was raw he’d already have busted.
That would be so fucking embarassing, he is Ryomen Sukuna!
He thanks god for the layer, but it still feels far too good, your cunt so tight, gripping him as you move your hips, rolling them in a way no woman should know how to do. He’s pausing you when you do it again, glaring. “You know how to ride cock that fucking good?”
“Show me what you got, Sukuna,” you whisper, acting like his cock wasn’t burning with that stretch, like you weren’t on the edge. He glares now, picking your hips up with those huge fucking hands, slamming you until he’s against your cervix now, watching with a mean grin as you scream out. “Oh my g-god!”
“Ride it now, huh pretty little slut?” He whispers, repeating it again, hands leaving marks on your ass as his fingers sink into the fat of it. “Where’s all that talk?”
You glare, shoving his back against his soft leather couch, moving your hips again and eliciting that whimper, making you smile. “You whimpering, Sukuna?”
“Oh I’ll fuck your vocal chords up next time, swear to - mmm…” he’s crying out again as your fingers grip his soft shirt, and you glide up and down his cock again. “Fucking brat.”
“Mmhmm, can you handle it?” You’re gliding up and down his cock, watching him fall apart even with your blurry ass vision you see it, how handsome he is, feeling his strength as his hands wrap your waist, and he bites his lower lip, brows drawing together as you hit just that spot in your cervix. “Mnh!”
Sukuna groans, kissing down your collar bone, your tits bounce as you work him, and he’s worried you were fucking right, how can he hold back his cum when your cunt is gripping him like that!? He’s lifting you up, slamming you back down hard, you scream out, your nails pressing into his shoulders, and he does it again, again, harder inside you, until you fucking drool.
“That’s it, can’t talk shit stuffed full of this cock, huh?” You don’t talk shit back, your eyes are rolled back as he fucks his hips up into you, holding you right up in the goddamn air damn near and using you like a little fuck toy. “That’s it, gonna cum aren’t you?”
You answer that when he slams hard and hits your cervix again, reaching down to find your clit with the rough pad of his thumb. “Sukuna!”
God, you crying out his name fucks him up, when he rolls it, feeling how soaked you are, making a mess down his thighs and yours, dripping with how much wetness is pouring. “That’s it, can’t help yourself,”
He’s pressing too perfectly, hitting that spot in you again when his tip drags along your slick walls, and you’re screaming out, the orgasm so hard it’s blinding, you’re trembling in his hold while he watches you, moaning at the sight. Your scream is ridiculous when he pulls back his thumb, sucking more of you off him before bottoming out inside you as much as he can.
“Ah! Sukuna…” You cum so hard you have tears of overstimulation, two little ones falling, just making you hotter. Sukuna groans, fucking up into you again and again, wrapping his arms around you as he moves you, and your cries are caught by his lips. “Mmm!”
“Mmm,” he’s lost inside you then, your little body moved where he wants you, your lips parted in screams that he drinks. Sukuna’s close, so fucking close, slowing his thrusts then and looking at you, saliva hanging from between your joined lips when they fall apart. “Fuck you’re pretty.”
“I a-am?” You whisper, confused and fucked out. Sukuna didn’t seem the sweet words type of guy, he swallows, adam's apple bobbing as he pulses inside you, making you whine out again.
“Shut up,” he scowls, you blink and giggle breathlessly then, trying to roll your hips only for him to smack the fuck out of your ass. “No more of that, I’m about to…”
“Cum.” You whisper, rolling them and earning another smack, loud and stinging your skin, just making you more desperate. “Cum for me, Sukuna.”
“Brat.” He huffs, sinking his sharp teeth into your neck, making you gasp out at the sharp tearing of your delicate skin, when you feel him fuck into you hard, his thick cock ruining your cunt, while he’s teeth hurt so bad you’re cumming from the fucking pain.
You shouldn’t have talked shit.
He’s way too big for it all, smacks of skin louder when he uses you, moves you, all you can do is gasp and cling to him, while he’s busting inside that condom finally, slowing as he moans right in your fucking ear. You’re clinging to his back, nails pressing in, screaming out as he pulses so deep, rocking you on his cock himself now, tongue slipping up the curve of your neck as he busts.
He’s never cum like that.
He can’t see for a fucking second, biting back that whine as he nips at your ear, barbell flicking against it, and he feels your aftershocks milking him, picturing filling that cunt up so full then. The thought makes him leak more and more cum inside the barrier he wants to rip the fuck off, groaning out as he hears your little whimper, as he feels you trembling under his hands as the run across your skin.
He wants you all naked, spread for him, hands slipping over curves he only got to see bits of. Wants to see that pretty cunt spread wide for him, shit he felt it - how does it look? How would it look pouring out cum for him? He’s kissing you again, rocking you on him, still hard inside your tight walls, which keep quivering around him, until he pulls back, looking at your fucked out face.
Holy fuck. - It’s all you can think in your head, mouth opening and shutting, when he smirks up at you.
“Think I kept up with you huh?”
“Shit…” You just take a breath, smiling a bit then. “I took it easy on you.”
“What now?” He glares again as you giggle, easing off him, hissing at how sore you are. “Acting like you can even walk after that?”
“I can walk f-fine.” Your thighs are aching, trembling when you stubbornly stand, blushing as you look at the cum spurted into his condom, so much of it too, it makes your throat go dry, wanting to swallow him up next time -
Next time - Would he want one?
You shouldn’t care, but you feel it, the nagging need again that shouldn’t exist, when you grab your glasses, putting them back on and bringing him even more clearly into your vision. He stands up then, walking over and throwing the condom out, wincing as he touches himself, so sensitive and still throbbing, while he watches you slip your panties back on.
“No free weed huh?” You tease, he chuckles then, shaking his head - as if you didn’t suck dick so good he wouldn’t buy you a fucking rock if you wanted to do that every day.
“No way,” he teases back, you brush back your messy hair, giggling a bit when he comes back, buttoning his pants. “Want me to fix your hair? Looks like shit.”
“You are a dick!” He smirks again, but you nod, and he grabs a brush, a flat black one with a wide handle. “You don’t have to.”
“I fucked it up, might as well fix it,” his voice is husky then, he turns you around, slowly running it through the tangles he’d caused, and something feels way too easy, too perfect. Your head falls back a bit, eyes fluttering shut, he’s sweeter than you thought he’d be, that’s all.
Right?
He’s methodically running it through your hair slowly, until it’s much closer to where it was when you walked in, and for a moment you feel so vulnerable, sucking his dick and riding him was intimate, but this feels even moreso. Aftercare is not something you’re crazy familiar with, you were always one to dart out of wherever you were after sex.
But you don’t really want to leave.
You’ll blame the weed and his huge cock, for your mind turning to mush, when he starts braiding your hair. “Sukuna, what are you up to?”
“Shut it, think it’ll look good on you,” he huffs, running his fingers through your strands now. He’d braided hair a ton during endless football events where the cheerleaders joined in, a lot of the football guys were actually pretty good at that and even curling hair.
Your hair is silky and gently falling through his fingers as they card through it, until he holds out a hand for a ponytail. You take one of the few off your wrist when he finishes his work, slipping it over your shoulder. You touch it gently, feeling far too many emotions hitting your throat then at the sweet gesture from an outwardly rough and brash man.
“Does it look cute back there?” You tease, looking up at him, and he clears his throat then.
“I’d love to see how you look from the back,” his husky words are met with a tug on your braid, you bite back a gasp at how good it feels - when his doorbell rings, making him grimace. “Yeah what?”
“Sukuna, open up,” he hears Satoru’s pouty voice, making him sigh, and you step away now, hastily grabbing your back, looking at him. Your little braid is tempting him to no end, to yank it, to bend you over the couch, so much he can hardly fucking stand it.
He’d always found you pretty, but it’s like he can’t get his eyes off you after it, after kissing you.
The fuck is in this weed!?
“Sukuna!”
“God, hold on.” He sighs and walks over, opening the door while you grab your lighter, decorated with some nerdy anime guy you seem to be obsessed with. He’s on the back of your car and on your bag, he noticed.
Sukuna looked better than any anime guy, surely.
Satoru and Suguru are at the door now, holding up baggies of weed, bright blue and green nugs that look way too pretty and fluffy, when their eyes catch sight of you behind them. “Heyy, it’s the hot nerd.” Satoru teases, earning your eye roll.
“Oh whatever,” they laugh as they walk in, Suguru carrying a case of beer. It was the summer after college, but they used to all live in a huge frat house together, now they’ve all moved into this insanely fancy apartment together - you could fit your entire dorm in their living room - as they moved on to their Master’s degree. You were an underclassmen, still a Senior in college.
You remember them all very well, but they’re all pretty annoying. Honestly, Sukuna at least seems to be a little more mature than them, but not by much. He’s taking a beer out of the case, as they plop themselves down, Suguru puts the rest of the twelve pack in Sukuna’s fridge, Satoru busts out the rolling tray and eyes you with insane blue eyes.
“Wanna smoke, sweets?” He asks, and you shake your head with a little smile.
“I already have, and still have to drive back to the dorm,” they laugh again.
“Shit those suck, though I hear there’s a big party at the old frat house this weekend,” Satoru murmurs, handing Sukuna the blunt to finish rolling. When his stupidly long pink tongue laps at the seam of it, your tummy clenches, eyes unable to remove themselves. “You coming, nerdy girl?”
“I don’t know, not really my thing. And should you be calling me nerdy, when you’re wearing Lucemon on your shirt?” Satoru glares, and Suguru and Sukuna snort in laughter.
“You know who that is? Damn, you just got even hotter.” He smirks and earns another eye roll, they chuckle but Sukuna’s jaw tenses.
He does not like someone flirting with you.
Holy fuck did your mouth work a number on him like that!?
“Uh huh, I might go, I don't know. Um…” You turn to Sukuna now, tilting you head back to look up at him. “Thanks for…”
What do you say - thanks for the dick?
Thanks for kissing you, braiding your hair, making you cum?
“Um… the smoke, I appreciate it,” you murmur, not wanting to just blurt everything out in front of his friends. He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, biceps tensing and bunching, you see your crescent nail prints in his skin then.
It makes you ache to see the visible proof.
This was a dumb fucking idea. When you thought of fucking him, you figured it’d be great, it’d be fun, but you didn’t anticipate whatever feeling this was, the one where you didn’t even wanna leave. This wasn’t how you were - you can chalk it up to the breakup, chalk it up to the weed, to the huge - at least ten inch - cock that has currently fucked you stupid…
Yeah, chalk it up to that.
“Thanks for,” Sukuna trails off now too, seeing the evidence of his teeth against your lower lip, swollen from brutal kisses. His cock is back on hard when he also notices how your sweater is hanging off a shoulder, and there are marks along your pretty collar bone from his suction, damn near making him feral as he thinks of it. “Coming over.”
“Yes, of course um… bye you all.” They wave as you rush out, leaning against the door and exhaling now, trying to collect your breath as you hear them murmur.
“Do you like her or something?” Suguru’s voice is muffled, but you hear it, and you can’t help but act like some spy, listening when you shouldn’t for the answer.
Did Sukuna…
“She’s cool, we hang out I guess.” Is his gruff answer, and you hear the echo of laughter. “Drop it, so what’s up with this party?”
You sigh, stepping away, sitting in your car for a moment too long, looking up at the window of Sukuna’s apartment for a moment, wondering if you made it all fucking weird now. You wouldn’t say you two were ‘friends’ but you were cool with each other, and now you were listening if he liked you - as if you’re silently listening on the phone with a friend in middle school or something.
You shake it off and head home, ignoring the gnawing feeling, shifting in your seat at how sore you are, you really talked more shit than you should have, you need a good hot bath after taking him.
Sukuna shuts the blinds, having looked at you as you walked, just to make sure you were good. “You hit it, huh?”
“Shut up, Suguru.” They’re snorting as the smoke fills the room.
The three of them usually share all the details of their encounters, but he sure the fuck wasn’t sharing anything about you - how you are probably the best thing he’s ever felt wrapped around him. How you sucked him stupid - got him whimpering!? - yeah, no fucking way he admitted that to anyone.
*****
It’s been a week since you last talked to Sukuna, and during that week you’re absolutely mortified by the amount of times you thought about texting or messaging him on his IG. Much, much worse, after you looked at some of his gym posts before bed, you woke up the next morning cumming thinking about your fucking plug and his huge cock inside you, fuck it was embarassing.
You wanna message him now even, but he hasn’t written you, and you don’t wanna be the girl who mentions - let’s hook up - then gets clingy. That’s just not you, and it’s not fair, you’d brought it up and it wasn’t like he asked to hook up with you. When your friends bring up going to a DnD match tonight - instead of going to that frat party, nine times out of ten you’d go for the DnD.
You don’t dig parties, and the DnD group has primo weed too.
Sukuna supplied for all of them after all.
But you instead find yourself dying to go to the party tonight - you may even find yourself buying a whole outfit. Like some goofy, corny ass 90‘s movie where the nerdy girl gets hot with a dress, except you sure the fuck weren’t taking your glasses off for that moment, since you’re damn near blind without them.
When Sukuna took off your glasses though?
God.
Snap out of it?!
You may or may not have freaked the fuck out when he hearted your instagram story before the party, biting your lip and giggling way too fucking much. You don’t even take pictures for shit, but you were feeling cute, and that just cinches it in your mind - you want to see him again and not for some weed. You just…
Want to see him.
Plug Sukuna - Hey brat, you coming to the party or doing nerd shit?
You roll your eyes a bit, ignoring the butterflies in your tummy at how excited you are to have him messaging you.
You - Do I look like I’m going to DnD?
Sukuna flushes, looking at your insta story for the twentieth time, surrounded by girls wearing literally next to nothing, coming up to him as he sits on the couch alone - shit Sukuna never did at parties. He was the life of the party usually, beer pong champion, the one making sure everyone had the best smoke or really anything they asked for.
But all he can think of is seeing you again, and he wishes it was just your pussy and not that he misses your cute little laugh - how you snort just a bit - how you push those glasses up your nose. How excited you get as you’re trying to convince him to watch your cartoons - sorry, anime - and how you take a hit from that blunt, just a bit of your glittery gloss on the tip.
He’s got one rolled up right now in the middle of a party with music blaring, mixing with the conversation and laughter of so many people, dying to share the blunt with you, to talk to you - he wanted to hit you up so many times, but he sure didn’t wanna be the dude who got pussy whipped in one encounter. You mentioned casual, one time maybe more- but the two of you hadn’t spoken since.
Sukuna was used to women blowing up his phone, begging for it again, even now he has women coming to sit on his lap, which usually is par for the course, but he just doesn’t find much excitement in it. He happens to have one on his right thigh right now, when he watches you walk into the room - and Instagram didn’t even do you justice.
You look so fucking cute, sexy little pleated skirt and a black top that shows that his marks on your pretty breasts faded - they’re just begging for more on them. He swallows nervously, god why is he nervous, it irritates him!? But he is, as your eyes meet his, and of course dart to the girl on his lap, you give him a little wave and smile, and he curses as you turn away and talk to someone then.
Sukuna unceremoniously shoves the girl off his lap, he can’t say he feels bad about it either, as he heads straight toward you, hearing one of the underclassmen gushing and simping over you. You’re just staring with a brow raised, unimpressed at the fumbling man, when he walks over smoothly with a blunt, holding it out.
“Wanna smoke, brat?” You look at him now, he’s unfairly hot and shirtless basically, unless you wanna call that black silk open kimono a top. You can see those nipple piercings, a fucking belly button ring leading to a light happy trail that makes your brain short circuit.
You hadn’t seen him shirtless, even sucking him.
“We were talking - oh, it’s Sukuna, shit! Sorry…” the boy learns fast, backing up and stuttering when Sukuna glares at him. “Catch you later?”
“Sure,” you sigh, taking the blunt from Sukuna’s fingers now, yours brushing against his softly. “I gotta pay for this?”
“Nah,” fuck he was a dick huh? He always is, but for a moment he feels bad, even though you’re teasing with a little smile, holding the blunt up for a light. Sukuna immediately busts his out, bright orange flame igniting the tip, watching the cherry brighten as you puff on it. “It’s blueberry.”
You inhale it like a fucking pro, when don’t you? Heavy, thick smoke falling out of your mouth then getting sucked back into your mouth. You look so good doing it, handing it to him without even a cough, just exhaling it back out, a smile on those pretty lips of yours. He pauses, unsure of even what to say, as he puts it to his lips, and your eyes drift lower.
Your thoughts are filthy as his, his tattoos curve with his body in a way that’s just slutty actually, black thick lines that aren’t fair honestly. Your body remembers him far too well, when he snatches up two drinks as you two walk over to a quieter part of the party, past a sea of bodies that eye the two of you. You take it gratefully, then wince as the liquor hits your tongue.
“Lightweight.” Sukuna teases, earning a playful shove from you, but your hand pauses on bare skin, watching his rippling, cut abdomen tense as you do.
Fuck.
Your pussy is pulsing from touching his skin, ugh it’s annoying. You know he hasn’t asked you to come over, so you shouldn’t be thinking this badly about him, but how can you not? The memories flit through your mind, his big hands that now hold a blunt and a red solo cup, and how they touched you.
“You look…” He pauses, wanting to say dumb fucking words.
Beautiful.
You do look beautiful.
Your eyes lock up with his, and he’s just sputtering like a fucking idiot, as if he’s never talked to a woman, he notices the shimmery shadow you’ve brushed across your lid as he looks down at you, so small compared to him. Sukuna towered over everyone, he was used to it, but something about it makes him want to pick you up, carry you somewhere and devour you.
Watch his cock in your tummy bulge.
“I look what?” Your whisper breaks his racing brain, he sips his drink and sighs now, clearing his throat and putting on a smirk.
“Hot.”
You blink a bit at that. “Hot?”
“Yeah, hot.” He curses himself internally.
“Thanks,” you trail off, it was nice you guess, but you supposed Sukuna said that to every girl, including the ones on his lap as you walked in. And you really hate that it made you sick to see it, off one time fucking him. “You look good too.”
“I always do.” You roll your eyes and laugh a bit, the sound making him ache, when his name’s being chanted by the pong table.
“You’re being summoned, Sukuna.” You tease, inhaling his blunt and stepping closer, so close he inhales your scent, driving him fucking insane.
It takes so much to save face and not drop to his knees and beg you to just allow him to lick your entire body. And he would, fuck, if you let him.
What is wrong with him.
It didn’t help he’d jerked it to you this morning, and every morning, since you’re clearly some succubus hitting all his dreams and making him wake up leaking pre.
“You good?” You ask softly, he clears his throat then, glaring at the men waving him over.
“Yeah, catch you after I wipe the floor with them?” He teases, and you nod, just a bit disappointed, but it wasn’t like you were close to Sukuna suddenly.
You were just…
A buyer, and he was your plug. A plug you had literally propositioned, seduced. Him being friendly was sweeter than he even needed to be. You put a hand on his shoulder then, feeling the weed hitting - mixing with the drink in your system, but when you touch him again it’s something else.
“Of course, I’ll be here for probably an hour or so, I don’t know too many people here.”
“Tch won’t be three minutes they’ll all be shitfaced and losers.” You laugh at that, but it’s forced, a little awkward.
The party goes on, and every time Sukuna wants to find you, you’re hidden, when he does see you, someone’s in his fucking way. Like everything and anything is blocking his way - why does he know everyone? Right now he doesn’t wanna fucking catch up, or talk, he just wants to talk to you.
He’s standing with Suguru and Satoru, as the three of them are sipping on drinks, and he sees you again finally, emerging from one of the bathrooms, but before he can think, there are three dudes talking to you. His jaw clenches at the sight of it, and he can’t keep excusing it to good sex, or wanting to hit again, it just doesn’t feel the same.
Sukuna can’t stand seeing you getting hit on, he’s glaring right at those men, sure he’s only fucked you once - but that’s enough to make him lose his shit. Suguru and Satoru are trying to get his attention, waving the blunt at him as he scowls over at the pretentious assholes talking to you. Your eyes catch his, you’re clearly unused to the attention it seems, a blush on your cheeks.
Or you like those losers.
Sukuna has been dying to fuck you again, but not just that - been dying to talk to you again, smoke you out, he didn’t say all he wanted to that day. Was it just a one time thing for you? He didn’t even get to drink your pretty pussy, didn’t get to hit it from the back, fuck he has so many positions he wants to do with you, he wants to-
“Earth to Sukuna.” Satoru says, and he clears his throat, taking a hit of the blunt and letting it fill his lungs.
“Yeah?” He grumbles, and their gazes go in your direction.
“You really like the cute little nerd, huh?” Satoru teases, earning Sukuna’s glare.
“Shit, you’re down bad bro.” Suguru chuckles, taking the blunt from Sukuna’s fingers then.
“Shut the fuck up. Just… we hooked up and…” He trails off again, and his friends chuckle, nudging each other.
“So you did, called it. And how was that, is the nerd freaky?” Satoru asks, sipping his solo red cup, and Sukuna scowls right at his best friends.
“None of your fucking business.”
“Oh shit, real bad,” Suguru says then, coughing as he takes his hit.
“Learn to take a real hit, and shut up. Not telling either of you shit.”
“We share everything, that means…” Satoru takes the blunt between his lips now, inhaling and smirking as Sukuna finds one of the men practically dragging your awkward ass to the dance floor.
You are awkward, hot and pretty as you are, you can’t dance for shit, at some point making a really awkward move Sukuna can only describe as shaking dice in your hands. “Is she… doing…”
Suguru trails off, as Sukuna laughs a bit at you. “Some interesting dance move she learned in DND maybe.” Sukuna murmurs, and he’s almost okay with it, you seem to have no interest, until the guy drags you by your hips against him.
That’s it.
“Shit… we strapping up for a fight?” Suguru asks, and Satoru grins, batshit psycho as always.
“I’m down to fight.”
“I don’t need your help,” he scoffs and stomps right over to you, where you’re being grinded on against, snatching the dude’s wrist up quickly. “She’s not enjoying herself.”
“What bro?” He’s clearly wasted, when Sukuna’s grip tightens he winces. “Shit, is it your girl or something?”
“Go sober up and dance with yourself.” He shoves at him now, and you blink in confusion. You hadn’t known how to dance really, you figured you would try, him grabbing you was creepy, but you figured you’d get him off you in a moment, when a giant, tall ass Sukuna had practically tossed the kid off.
You can’t help but feel it more, that tightening in your tummy, when his angry red eyes flit down to you. “Sukuna…”
“You weren’t enjoying that, were you?” He demands, speaking through his teeth damn near.
“Um… huh?” Are you just really high?
Is Sukuna… jealous?
“C’mon,” he tugs at your wrist now, and you follow him, so confused, yet fucking thrilled by his big hand on your wrist, in a way that concerns feminism you want him to literally throw you over his shoulder. “Short ass legs can’t keep up.”
“We’re not all giants over six four!?” You huff as he keeps tugging, and you yank back weakly, who wouldn’t be weak in that hold? “What’s up with you? You’re acting super fucking weird.”
“Am I?” He laughs, yanking you in his old room - no one has occupied it yet it seems, it was for the head of the frat and they probably haven’t appointed one yet.
“Sukuna, you’re acting… jealous?” You whisper, he scowls down at you, locking the door to one of the rooms then, arm on the other side of you as he is pressing you against the door, making you gasp.
“You didn’t like them, those guys, did you?” He whispers angrily, you blink a bit, biting your lower lip, he tugs it out from under your teeth. “Did you?”
“Would you be mad if I did? Aren’t me and you just… hooking up?” You murmur, earning a deeper glare, as your heart races.
“Once. We hooked up once, brat.”
“Once. You didn’t want more, right?”
“You didn’t want more.”
“Says who!?”
“You never messaged me… you…” He trails off, cursing now, and the two of you just stare at each other, your breasts rising and falling with your breaths, as Sukuna’s hands tighten on your face now, cupping it tightly. “Did you just want it once?”
“What do you think?” You answer back, hand slipping over his bare chest now, and then he slams his lips on yours, tongue ring clicking against the roof of your mouth when it dives inside, huge hands cupping your face even tighter. You whine into his lips, body aching. “So do you want more than once?”
“The fuck do you think?” He takes your hand, putting it right on his cock, throbbing and hard, you brush your hand against it, earning his moan.
“Then say you want it again.” You’re taunting him, nerdy fucking brat, he scowls as he tilts your chin up.
“You talk a lot of shit. Think it’s time to get all your attention focused on me now, huh?”
“How you gonna do that - ah!” Sukuna’s on his fucking knees in front of you, making you tremble, breaths coming so fast you cant function, when he lifts up your skirt, looking up at you with dilated eyes almost black, fingering the fishnet stockings you’re wearing - they have no right looking that good on your thighs. “Sukuna?”
“Hold your fucking skirt up, brat. Now.” You blink again, lost at the giant man slipping your panties down your thighs, moaning when your pussy is in his face. “Fuck, knew it would be pretty but… fuck you for it being that pretty.”
“Fuck me for it!? What’re you even doing down there!” You’re yanking at his hair, and he chuckles now, lapping his tongue along your inner thigh, watching as your pussy drools out.
“What do you think I’m doing? Gonna lick every thought of anyone from your pretty fucking head,” he whispers, kissing your inner thigh again, you gasp. “Haven’t you been eaten out?”
“I have, just… you… you do that?” He chuckles, shaking his head as he looks under those pink lashes at you.
“Of course I do, ya didn’t give me a chance last time, jumping my dick like a slutty little brat.”
“You- oh!” You’re gonna talk shit, but when Ryomen Sukuna licks up your slit then, tongue ring flicking on your clit, you lose any words. “Mnh!”
You almost say you love him from one fucking lick, one wicked stripe of his wet, hot tongue between your lips.
“Nothing smart to say, brat?” He whispers, breath hot against your cunt while he holds your folds open with his thick fingers. You can’t respond, you arch your hips now, resting your shoulders back against the door, silently pleading for more. Sukuna moans softly, flicking his tongue again. “How about you be nice, say please?”
“Please,” you let out breathlessly, and Sukuna buries his fucking face against your cunt then, drowning himself in your sweet taste, your heat, while he listens to your moans mixing with the blaring music of the party, just an echo, his heart racing in his ears as your cunt gushes down him, messy as fuck. “S’kuna mnh!”
You can’t even say his name he muses, palming his erection over his pants, he can hardly stand it, he’d tasted you before off his fingers but this was more intense, the sweetness pouring as he tries to catch it. He looks up at you, your head falling forward, feels you trembling, while you crumple that skirt in one hand, the other balancing on his shoulder.
Sukuna’s tongue slots itself into your eager hole, already pulsing around the wet muscle, curling up wickedly and hitting your spot with that fucking barbell, you scream out hoarsely, head slamming the door as he does. He has you cumming with two more flicks, as his nose bumps right against your engorged, twitchy little clit, your whines and grinding hips urging him on, drawing that orgasm out.
You’re shivering, hips bucking up to fuck his face, wanton and fucking insane how you work them, greedy, pulling at his hair now. “Sukuna!”
“Mmh, you’re so easy f’me, huh?” you want to talk shit, but his tongue flicks and swirls your clit, as your thigh brushes the soft silk of his kimono, and you can’t take it, how fucking good it feels. “Say it, and I’ll let you cum again.”
“Easy… ah!” He’s moaning now, sucking your clit into his hot mouth, vibrating it with his own moans, your skirt falls so he shoves it back up, but your hands have entangled in his pink hair, while he’s devouring all the juices pouring from your slutty little hole, all over his handsome face. “S’Kuna…”
“Can’t even say my name, huh?” He murmurs, pulling back, his face coated in you, the sight should be embarrassing, but instead it’s so sexy you whine out, he smirks - having you whimper this time, when he stands, you wobble. “Can’t stand up brat?”
“Fuck… shut up…” he’s taunting you, but he’s right, he has to wrap an arm around your hips, bending low and running his two fingers up your sensitive slit, watching as your eyes roll back, feeling you tremble in his hold. “Kuna…”
“Not my name, tch.” You’re delirious when he’s pumped his fingers deep, curling in your quivering walls. “Take them off. Now, get on the bed.”
You are not one to take orders, you scowl at first, but when he’s slid two of his fingers in your mouth, and has a thigh between yours, you’re grinding on it, desperate, soaking his pants now. He’s kissing you again, before pulling back, turning you around and unzipping the back of your skirt.
“Do I have to undress you, brat? Where’s all the shit talking? Keeping up with your freak, hmm?” He’s taunting you even as his hands shake, when your skirt slips down, and your head falls back, whining out. “You don’t talk shit when you cum, is that when your pretty mouth shuts?”
“Shut my mouth, Sukuna.” He groans, kissing down across the side of your neck, tugging your top down, then up over your head, turning you as the skirt pools around your heels. He is stunned when he sees your body, swallowing nervously, tracing the swell of your breasts, the nip of your waist, the jut of your hips in wonder.
You’re nervous, him seeing you fully, but his eyes are bright rubies when they hungrily make their way up your face. Your hands slip to his body, slipping off the black kimono, revealing his body fully, so sculpted it’s ridiculous, you lean forward, kissing along a tattoo on his chest, over a thick pectoral muscle, and he huffs, hand entangling in your hair.
“You’re fucking…” he doesn’t know how to say it, fuck.
He’s never said that.
“Hot?” You tease, kissing lower, unbuckling his belt as you do. “You’re gorgeous, fuck…”
“Me? Tch.” You nod, and he sighs now, swallowing a bit, tilting your chin up and making you pull away from kissing across his tattoos. “You’re beautiful, brat, okay?”
“I am?” You blink a bit, and he sighs, nodding, jaw tensing so hard there’s a vein popping out. “Oh Sukuna… thank you…”
“Shut up.” You blink in confusion at him, but he’s already picked you up, your arms wrap his strong neck, as his huge hands hold you. “Don’t fucking dance with anyone.”
“Like… tonight?” You ask curiously, he snorts, shaking his head and carrying you over to a huge bed, one he used to sleep in, sitting you on it and brushing your hair back.
“Like not at all.” Your blush decorates your cheeks, as you bite your lower lip.
“Do you like me, Sukuna?” Your question makes him laugh, a huge tattooed hand cupping the side of your face and leaning down.
“Do I like you?” You nod then, suddenly shy for running it like you do, and he sighs, brushing your hair back as you tug at his pants, going to stroke his cock and eliciting that soft whimper of his that wrecks you. “Yes, I like you… alot. Okay!?”
“You sound so mad about it.” You tease, stroking him slowly, over those veins that wrap his pretty, heavy cock, and he sighs, snatching your hand now.
“And you, brat, huh? Do you like me, baby?” He whispers, flipping you around, your ass arching up and out, two fingers slipping back inside your hole, stretching you out, making your head fall back as you arch for more.
“Y-yes, I do, ngh!” He pauses then, cock slapping your ass so fucking heavy, precum drizzling across your ass cheeks, dancing messy on your skin.
“Shit, you like me?” His surprised words hit even your horny ass, high ass brain, you look back, getting up on your knees, reaching a hand back around to him now, he leans forward, sighing, cupping you under your chin.
“Yes, I really do. I thought… maybe you didn’t?” He shakes his head, he’s not sure the word ‘like’ covers what he feels, but for now it’ll suffice. “As more than a friend?”
“I don’t do that to friends,” he murmurs, kissing you again, fingers running along your slit. “Don’t bury my face in my friends.”
“Then… more than that?” He nods a bit, and you melt, pressing back against him as he wraps his strong arms around you. “I’d like that too - I’d also like your cock in me.”
“Cock hungry brat, can’t have a fucking moment, huh?” You giggle, and the sound wrecks him, he’s kissing you again, tip sliding on your folds. “Wanna fuck you raw, wanna cum inside you.”
“So do it…” Your answer to his insane statements is to get in the perfect arch for him, he moans as you do.
“Fuck, you sure?” You nod, hands clinging to the blankets while you soak his tip, gushing down in a soppy, squelching mess to the bed. “I’m not going easy on you this time, slutty cunt can take it huh?”
“I won’t go easy either, gonna have you whimper - ah!” Sukuna’s slid inside your cunt in a deep stroke, and without the condom you feel every fucking bit of his cock, from that fat, musroomed tip, to every vein in your slick, gummy walls. “Sukuna!”
“Fuck, loosen up,” he huffs, smacking on your ass cheek, you gasp as he groans, trying not to cum while you grip him so tight. “Now, brat.”
“I c-can’t, shit… ah!” You’re shaking as he slips out, then back inside, feeling so fucking delicious in your cunt you moan, glasses falling right off your face as he fucks into you harder now, slamming and bullying his thick cock deep inside you, so full you feel like you’re splitting apart, still wearing those heels and thigh highs, the sight of them right under your ass taking him the fuck out.
“Fuck, feel you, gonna remember my shape, aren’t you?” He huffs, as he fucks inside you, leaning over you now, hand on the mattress, gripping the blankets right next to you, veins raising from the back of his tattooed hands while his leaky tip drools on your cervix. You gasp out, whining when he stuffs you, his other hand cupping under your chin. “Asked you a question.”
“Conceited,” you huff, only earning him slamming inside your cunt, you’re blinded when he does, gasping out, ass arching for more of his brutal thrusts while he gives you the most wicked backshots, the sounds of skin slapping echoing and filling your ears, the party long since faded. “F-fuck, ah!”
“Like me, huh? She doesn’t like me, she loves me, doesn’t she?” He’s whispering in your ear, you weakly nod, you’re not typically submissive, but for him you want to be, when he rolls his hips up just so and hits your spot, you scream out at it. “Say it.”
“No… mnh!” He flips you then, right before you’re about to cum, making you whine, picking your thigh up and pulling it high, your heel and stockings ripped off, one by one, until your legs are bare, and the heel of your foot is against his chest. Like this, him hovering over you, cock prodding your soppy entrance, it’s way too intimate.
Like wasn’t a good enough term.
Fucked up over him was better.
“Wanna watch me fuck your guts up, huh? Bet you haven’t had that have you, cock ruin your fucking insides?” He’s possessive, feral as he looks down, you’ve put your glasses on all askew, he tenderly fixes them before tilting your chin down to watch your cunt make his cock disappear. “God…”
He can’t take it, how sexy it is to see the bulge slowly form as he shoves his thick ten inches as much as he can, between your puffy lips, while you watch him, lips parted, glasses slipping back down your nose again, covered with a sheen of sweat. “Oh…”
You’re watching it, the bulge, ridiculous as he fucks into you so slow, leaning over you and making your leg press up higher, a hand on the back of your thigh, he eyes your face again, as he slips in deeper, till he’s stuffed you far too full. You’re struggling to take him at this angle, deeper, slower strokes, fucking you up with every single one, your eyes going crossed then.
“Wanna see your pretty eyes,” he murmurs, taking them off, setting them aside and leaning low over you now. “Can you see me, blind little brat?”
“Y-yes. Yes.” He kisses you again, while he’s bending you in half, fucking you so deep you feel him everywhere, your stomach, fuck your throat, all of it, he’s ruining your cunt until she will just know his shape and you can’t say you mind, not when he slams hard, and you feel your body tense. “Kuna, please…”
“What, brat, need to cum?” He whispers, saliva breaking apart in a thin, gossamer string as the filthy sounds of his cock wrecking your squelching cunt fill the room. “Say please, huh?”
“Please, mnh! Kuna, please,” Sukuna reaches down, like he already knows your body after two fuck sessions, finding your twitchy little clit and leaning up, rubbing little circles and angling his hips just so, your orgasm hits you so hard, already sensitive from his tongue, his mouth, those fingers.
“That’s it, cum all on me, make a fuckin’ mess,” he murmurs, but in his head he’s already mad with one thought.
His.
You weren’t dancing or talking or smoking with another dude, ever the fuck again - he knows enough people, he can make sure of it too, watching your eyes roll back, that mouth in a slutty O as your cunt starts milking him then. He sucks in a breath, now laying his heavy weight on you, mean strokes hitting so hard and deep the smacks keep echoing as you’re so fucking full.
“Slutty hole wants all my cum, huh? Should I fill you the fuck up, have you drip me the rest of this fucking party?” Sukuna’s eyes are so dark with his blown out pupils, all you can see is black with red rings around them, as he grips your hip bruising. “Can’t even talk? That pathetic huh? Thought I had to match your freak, brat.”
“Mnh…” You wanna talk back but he’s fucking you from one orgasm into another, and all you can manage is a - ‘cum in me’ - which pushes him over the edge.
“Yeah, can you take all this cum, baby?”
Baby.
It’s echoing - Sukuna, your plug, the most popular dude there is, is sweet talking you and rolling his hips. One moment it’s ‘fucking slutty cunt, feel her’ the next it’s - ‘so pretty, look at you’. The mix of filthy, nasty words and sweet whispers, and brutal strokes that ruin your cunt and tender caresses is too much, he’s too much, you can’t formulate words, a girl who's never at a loss for them.
“I c-can take it,” you whisper finally, eyes locking, and then he moans, lifting your thighs up high, shoving them until they’re flushed with your breasts, smushed as his weight presses on your thighs, and he starts fucking his veiny, slick cock harder and harder.
“Yeah? Beg for it, huh?” you bite your lip, glaring. “Beg for me to fill this perfect little cunt, be the only one to.”
“P-possessive… psycho…” he’s chuckling, like he’s really fucking lost it, slamming in one more time. “Beg m-me, huh?”
“Fuck,” he’s done with your ass, you’re literally so annoying, but he also is fucking loving it, your attitude even as he has you bent and folded in half. “Tiny little cunt, bet she can’t.”
“I can, f-fuck… just… cum in me- stop talking and - ah!” He’s done when you demand it like that, when your nails press into his biceps, his head falls back as he feels his release, so much cum, despite jerking it all week it’s been building up, waiting for you. “Sukuna!”
“God, feel her, milking every bit, greedy, slutty,” he murmurs, kissing you over and over, barbell massaging your tongue, his huge hands slipping your thighs down as his ropes of white cum paint your walls. “Fuck…”
“Mnh…” You’re weak, head falling to the side for his kisses, thighs shaking violently when he moves again. “Sukuna!”
“Mmm, never wanna fucking leave your pussy, god.” He keeps kissing and slowly pumping, your nails tear into his back, and he loves it, groaning, hoping you leave your marks as he sucks on the base of your neck, lapping up sweat off your skin.
“You cum so much, holy…” He pulls back, grinning as he leans up, kissing your lips sweetly for just a moment, then glaring.
“You’re my girlfriend now, got it?”
You giggle, breathless, brushing a lock of his pink hair back. “Am I now? Not even gonna ask me?”
His brows lower, ruby eyes narrowing. “Nope. I do have a question…”
“Hmm?”
“Wanna smoke?” You grin, nodding, and Sukuna dips, for a moment you panic, but he’s soon back with water bottles and his bag of weed, while you’re in the bathroom cleaning up. He comes behind you in the mirror, wrapping an arm under your breasts and groaning. “God, look at you.”
You turn, leaning up as he leans down, kissing you again, soon the two of you are lounging in the bed, half dressed and laughing, as he inhales the blunt and turns to his side, studying you seriously for a moment, everything feels so comfy and perfect with him, heady. “What is it?”
“Just… you’re really pretty covered in me.” He murmurs, you flush, eyeing the marks on your thighs, your breasts, taking the blunt from his fingers and inhaling it into your mouth, gesturing for him.
He leans forward, and you blow the smoke into his mouth, he lets it fill his lungs and moans, big hands gripping the narrow of your waist, thumbs brushing under the swells of your breasts. He sucks in the smoke now, exhaling, when he takes the blunt again, sighing, brushing your hair back with his free hand.
“You’re still not getting free weed, you know.”
You scoff, glaring as he grins wide. “You are a jerk!”
“Just saying, you gotta pay. Maybe a small discount.”
“A discount!? You just came inside me.” He laughs now, husky with his smirk, laying back on his arm, bent under his head, inhaling again.
“Hmm, yeah I did, didn’t I? Okay, a good discount.”
“Psh!” You shove at his big body, when he pins you down, sighing and slipping up your skirt.
“Tch, fucked her up, huh?” He leans down, pressing bites, sharp along your thighs, you gasp out, feeling dizzy and weak, cunt throbbing from him still. “She’s wasting all that cum.”
“Wasting, what- oh fuck.” He’s got two fingers shoving his sticky cum back in your abused hole, inhaling the blunt and blowing the smoke right on your clit then, you’re arching your back, hips bucking up. “What the… mnh…”
He sucks his fingers, handing you the blunt, you’re blushing as he makes his way back between your thighs. You inhale the blunt now, letting it hit deep as Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue ring collects the milky white cum oozing from your cunt now.
“Hmm,” you earn a glare when you decide to put your glasses on his face. “You look hot, imagine - Nerd Kuna. Ow!”
Sukuna bites your clit, the glasses looking far too sexy on him, and watches you giggle, making his heart race. “Only nerd here is you.”
“Mnh, Sukuna…” He’s lapping at you more and more, the clicking and squishing of your cunt as he cleans up the mess he’s made, all while your glasses on his face are fogging up.
He puts out your blunt, back inside you, spitting his cum and yours in your mouth, tongues swapping it so messy together, big hand wrapped around your throat, bringing you with him to cum over and over, and you realize that night, in your fifth or so round - You think you might just be in love with your plug.
I had wayyy too much fun, hope you all enjoyed ittt hehe
SYNOPSIS: heartbreak aid during the apocalypse, you ask?
WORD COUNT: 5k
WARNINGS: bff!ellie who’s sad, kinda perv oc who’s eager to fix that, remixed version of seattle!ellie, dina catching strays for no reason (i love her pls), wound care but erotic, SMUT AGELESS BLOGS/MINORS DNI, dubcon (nasty green), porn watching, mutual/guided masturbation, brief poochie eating, oc in denial ab her little crush, real girlhood <3, slight angst :(
A/N: the bubblegum apocalypse where no one dies or lies. #SCISSORING
The gates of Jackson open, and relief rushes through your chest.
Everyone is accounted for. Ellie’s accounted for.
Weeks—or however the fuck long— of pent-up anxiety finally settles in your limbs as you sprint towards Shimmer while Jesse tends to Dina, greeting the hazel mount with coos and rustles through her fur. Baby needs a bath and a good brushing.
Your eyes swiftly shift from her to your best friend, “Ellie, I’m so glad— “
“Can you help me down, please?”
Creases bunch in your forehead at the strain in her tone. And then you’re met with the blood-soaked wrap that's enclosed around her jean-covered thigh.
“Oh, shit… c’mere.”
Ellie’s good leg swings over the saddle, and you hold her waist to ease her down into the muddy grass. Joel’s the first one to engulf her. They exchange words that you don’t catch before his reluctant arms drop to guide Shimmer back to the stocks, leaving you two alone. You can’t stop yourself from throwing your arms around her neck next, mindful of her leg.
“I didn’t know what to think when y’all didn’t come back,” you whisper.
When the two girls first made their departure to Seattle, the icy remains of winter had just begun to melt into the dirt beneath it, and that alone felt like ages ago. There’s mosquitoes and moths everywhere now, following wherever the sun beams.
A strong arm wraps around your waist, and you instantly stiffen and detach from her, hands resting on her shoulders.
Her gaze drops to the ground when you whisper, “What happened, Ellie? You okay?”
She breathes. “Peachy.”
Your hands drop when she turns in the direction of her home, head jerking when she says, “I’m gonna shower.”
“Dinners supposed to be really good tonight!” You exclaim with a broken smile when she takes her first hobble, “Eat with me? Consider it a celebration that you made it home safe.”
Ellie seems to soften at your invitation, head bobbing in approval, and you smile.
She holds her fist out to you, “See you in 20?”
You bump your knuckles against hers with strained cheeks, “See you in 20.”
One small, comforting smile from her, and she’s off, limping back home.
“What’s up with them?”
You flinch at the too close whisper from Jesse, and you shrug. “Maybe they broke up.”
“Doubt it,” He snorts, “Dina told me it was brutal on the way back. The bastards were everywhere, she said. They’re probably still shook up.”
“Damn… How’s she doing?”
“Weird as hell. I think she’s sick or something,” Concern is melting off him, “She’s getting checked out now.”
“I’ll check on her later,” You face him, “Coming to dinner?”
“Probably not. Gotta make sure Dee’s good.” He’s already walking off, trailing after his friend…? Ex? You never know what to call them.
How do you cheer up a friend that just witnessed three dozen infected tear another small community to shreds? At least, according to Jesse. He was able to get more out of Ellie and Dina than you were, apparently.
You don’t know how Ellie — or anyone — could experience such barbarous scenes as frequently as they do. You’ve been on patrol twice since you stumbled upon Jackson a few years back, and each venture leaves you less and less eager to see the world beyond its walls. You respect their bravery, not only for being able to dive head first into unknown territory with nothing but bullets and faith, but to also face those walking demons at every corner.
Your closest friend is often excited to show you scavenged artifacts that she has collected, but… she’s barely spoken to you since you helped her off Shimmer.
Her silence is uncommon, and therefore, frightening.
“It’s been a while since we’ve had fish,” you scoff weakly, poking your carrots with your fork, “It’s good, huh?”
Her focus shifts from the tablecloth to you.
Silence.
You drop your utensil, “Fuck, Ellie… dude, what happened out there? Jesse told me… that y'all got caught up— “
“Dina’s pregnant.”
He didn’t tell you that.
Ellie’s whisper breezes past your ears so fast that you barely catch it. The canteen continues to bustle with hungry, ravaged patrons who returned from their second round of patrol. You assumed Ellie was one of them after her scattered return, but she hasn’t touched anything on her plate. Not even her carrots. Her favorite; A literal goddamn rabbit.
No wonder she hasn’t eaten… Who could’ve with news like that? Especially considering the high she was riding before the couple left.
“What.”
Ellie’s head shakes with gall, and a disappointed grin plumps her cheeks.
“Yup… Can’t wait to tell Maria.”
Sharing the news of a new Jackson kiddo sounds like the last thing on her mind. Days before the two took off, she was squealing like a wild hyena in the wee hours of the night, gushing to you about the midnight explorations with her long-term crush. Her retellings of their first night together were vivid: filled with pent up tension and need and unfiltered lust. According to Ellie, they could’ve gotten married in a fortnight with the relationship they’d built over the years, and you believed her. Sadly.
You were present, observant, during your teenage years. You were there when Cat kissed Ellie, when they broke up, when Ellie had recurring nightmares about Riley and was desperate for comfort from you, when Ellie fell for Dina…
And now they’re in a pickle. A fat one.
Hearing about Ellie’s relationship never went how you’d assume. You expected to be happy for your friend whenever she enthused about a topic that brought about such elation, but there was always something about the stories that gave you pause. Something that burned in the pit of your stomach and caused you to, frankly, fake congratulations. You’re unsure why, but hearing about Dina and Ellie’s relationship potentially being tarnished is calming that simmer inside you.
“Just when I thought…” She scoffs quietly. “Whatever. Fuck it.”
You can’t resist and slip, “… Who’s the daddy?” And she hisses.
“Guess.”
But you don’t have to... Fuck.
Dina and Jesse’s relationship was… something. In adolescence, Ellie was either secretly celebrating their multitude of separations or crying to you about them getting back together. Their consistent streak of being on and off clearly got the best of them. There’s a ball of cells growing inside of your friend’s almost-girlfriend.
“Shit… maybe it was… a misunderstanding? Doesn’t it take a couple weeks to… form in the womb or whatever?”
You’re not the devil's advocate. Your lips clamp at Ellie’s stern glare.
“There’s no misunderstanding.”
Your shoulders slump at the distance in her eyes. The indifference she’s exuding can’t disguise the hurt that she’s experiencing internally. Your heart aches for her, despite the excited jitters in your fingers.
“… Sorry, man.”
“I don’t care.”
Good, you impulsively want to say. You shove it down into the hardwood beneath your soles. Your brows furrow in annoyance, more so at yourself for not being remorseful. “Fuck off. Yes, you do, and that’s okay. It’s normal.”
“Can we go?”
Her request is sudden and cracked, and every inkling of pride deflates in your chest. Poor thing; How could you feel like this when she’s this scattered? Guilt replaces whatever dark fantasy you’ve conjured up in the past five minutes.
You move to stand without objection. Fuck the carrots, “Yeah. Let’s roll— “
An instant lightbulb above your head… and it’s glowing green. Roll.
Roll!
Mischief shines in your chest and eyes when you glance around the packed space in search for,
“TOMMY!”
A flash of brown hair turns to meet your sprinting form. The peach he’s holding looks devine.
“Be careful with those, shit-for-brain! I’m not coming to save your ass like last time!”
“Got it, boss!” You squeak with a polite smile, shoving the small baggie of rolled joints into your stuffed satchel. It vanishes the second Eugene slams his vault to his dirty ass man cave, “Fucking dicksucker.” You huff.
Ellie snickers from beside you. “C’mon. Be nice.”
“No. He skimped on me last time. Toke hog.”
The walk to your place is colder than usual, but it’s beautiful out. The moon shines from behind the dark clouds, illuminating the ivory that shields the incoming spring grass. Gorgeously cinematic; A scenery that gets the heart thumping. Aching. Yearning.
You lead Ellie onto your porch and into your home. She removes her jacket and kicks off her boots, throwing her armor over the designated rack. Your satchel goes flying across the room until it clatters on your bed. Black tapes spill all over the mattress, and Ellie scolds you disapprovingly.
“Again? Really?”
You smirk. Eugene’s always too blasted to punish your kleptocracy, “No one has a better porn collection than ‘Ge— “
Her jaw slacks, “Porn?! What the fuck, I thought those were the Jurassic Park— “
“They’re not…” Before pondering, “Although that’d be some crazy role play. RAAAWR— “
“You’re the fucking worst.”
“C’mon! Look at these titles,” You skip to your bedside to snag a couple tapes, “Smoochie the Coochie… Banging my hot neighbor…”
A boisterous laugh passes your lips, “Throbbin’ Hood: Prince of Beaves! Tell me that’s not fucking hilarious!”
Ellie doesn’t laugh. Hasn’t laughed. Just simmers by the front door with red dusting her cheeks. How adorable!
“Why’re you looking like that?”
When her eyes travel over the creases between your brows and confused smile, your feet give an awkward stutter. This wasn’t the reaction you were expecting. At the very least, she should’ve cracked a smile by now. Even an insecure one.
You peer down at the tapes in your hand and back up at her. Her posture shifted: arms wrapped protectively around her waist while she leaned on the balls of her feet, eyes inspecting the dim lights of your space.
Another lightbulb. Not a green one.
“Have you ever watched porn?”
She shrugs with floundering shoulders. You chuckle.
“It’s just for shits and giggles, Ellie. Don’t be so serious. The acting sucks and you needa good laugh.”
You cradle the filled baggie like it holds a sacred orb and waltz towards the VCR. Your screen shifts from bright blue to the tape’s introduction screen. Naked men in speedos… Ellie plops down on the couch behind and mindlessly flicks a lighter. You reach into the baggie and toss her the fattest joint available before working the remote.
A sigh releases… then another flicker… then a long, drawled out exhale. You grin.
You, remote in hand, plop down next to her, “Is it good?”
“Better than last time, for sure.” You trade the remote for the joint, arm wrapped around your angled legs as you pull. Hits smooth… er. It still dries your throat.
Two joints down. Two tapes completed. Three wide smiles from Ellie from the bad acting. The night’s a win in your book.
She lazily lights another joint while you switch out the tapes. You purposely saved the best for last: apparently the only lesbian porno in that bastard’s whole cave. When’s the last time you’ve smoochied a coochie?
More importantly, when’s the last time Ellie has? Recently, you assume; She and Dina were too close to only be going on long walks in the woods. The more you smoke, the more your mind wanders where it shouldn’t.
… Your friend is a lover. Always has been, despite her efforts of convincing you, herself — everyone — that she’s emotionally indifferent. Craves affection, both verbal and physical, like she’s deprived. She raves to you about her desires on a weekly basis, for fucks sake! Someone hug the poor girl!
“Feeling better?” You squeak when you plant on the cushion. Ellie nods with a soft grin.
“Thank you.”
Your hands clap together and her body shakes from the recoil. “The night’s not over yet! I got a surprise for you! Happy Birthday!”
“It’s not my birthday… I don’t know my birthday— “
Your smile is laced with grating sarcasm, “Wow, you really know how to kill the vibe! Just play along, goddamn!”
You sigh when her expression flattens.
“Ellie…”
“Yes?”
Oh… That crackly tone did a little something. Cheering Clitorous. Alright. Okay.
“I found a little something in ‘Gene’s special drawer— “
“Aren’t all his drawers special.”
“Aren’t you supposed to be shutting the fuck up.”
Her red eyes widen, but she silences.
“You know what feels really nice after a bad breakup?”
Her middle finger digs into her dry eye, “Getting high and watching porn with the only other lesbian you know?”
“Even better,” Your hand claps down on her jean-clad, uninjured thigh. “Getting high and watching lesbian porn with the only other lesbian you know… while getting head. A true fixer-upper.”
More silence, and your tummy gives a nervous tumble. Eugene’s bud gives you enough courage to make eye contact, and, given any other circumstance, you would’ve hollered laughter at how stunned Ellie looks, eyes nearly stretched beyond her lids, but you don’t. You press on when she denies you.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” Your thumb presses the large button in the middle and the screen displays two, three — six women… all sprawled out on white carpet while lewdness shines through their eyes… And not at all the romantic wives fingering each other next to the fireplace like you envisioned. Plus, the music sucks. Who the fuck plays the accordion while bumping cooters?
Your eyes circle around and… Oh, wow. A lot less tame than you were expecting… Are those chains and a paddle?
What the fuck, Eugene.
“Oh, shit.”
Ellie’s either impressed or about to go on a judgmental rampage. You gauge her expression curiously. Her lashes keep fluttering like butterfly wings. You nearly coo audibly. She always does that when she’s excited! What a cutie!
Ellie recites the description at the bottom of the screen, “When six girls go off into the woods for an early 4th of July getaway, conversations take a lustful… and explorative turn. Find out what happens during one late, hot evening after a game of… kiss and blow?”
You snort, “Are you asking me?”
“Well, yeah… The fuck is kiss and blow?”
You shrug, “Find out.”
One click of the remote, and the footage begins… More giggles from Ellie, and something flutters in your chest. You’ll have to watch bad acting with her more often.
Six minutes into Smoochie the Coochie, and you still don’t know what kiss and blow is. And you don’t care to find out.
High pitched moans and pleasured squeals that almost sound phony rings in your hazy skull as you stare up at your best friend from between her covered legs.
This is the quietest she’s been all night: her eyes are locked on the screen behind you, completely entranced with flushed cheeks by what you assume is the sweatiest, raunchiest… scissoring, is what it’s called? On the screen. Maybe. You’re wired and can’t think straight and Ellie’s hot.
“Are we really doing this right now?”
She whispers when you caress her thigh over her pants, and you nod approvingly. Desperately, but she can’t tell. “Up to you.”
You don’t expect a cold hand to come up and tenderly brush against your cheek. You shudder and nuzzle into it. Sober you would be so embarrassed at how you’re reacting to her affections. You’ve never been the needy one.
“Can we…”
You pout and burn with embarrassment, but start to pull back, “Stop?”
“No, no…” Her eyes meet yours and your body locks. A bit nervous. “I dunno…”
“Tell me.”
“Later.” She whispers.
You stare skeptically as she plays with your earlobe. “I promise I’m good. I want this. I’ll tell you later.”
A pause before you sigh. “Okay. Up.” You pat her thigh and her hips rise. Her unbuttoned jeans are peeled down her legs, gently over her fresh bandage, and tossed beside you. Your body is miles ahead of your brain; before you realize, your lips smack all over her bruised thighs, peppering over the freshly bandaged scars and faded ones. She squirms where she sits, shaky breaths puffing from her lips.
Your mouth travels higher, and an encouraging hand lands on the back of your head, massaging your scalp.
“Tell me what’s happening.” You mumble against her, a blind finger pointing back at the screen.
“I don’t — So much shit is going on. Like… from all directions.”
You smile against her thigh, “Someone catch your attention?”
“I…”
But no explanation is needed. There’s treads of weakness in her growl. Go figure.
“Lemme guess… She look like her?”
If she catches the unwarranted agitation in your tone, she doesn’t mention it. Simply digs her nails into the back of your head. No forceful tugs at your hair, but a warning, and your teeth beam.
“I dunno what the fuck you’re smiling for, but it’s gonna piss me off soon.”
There's a smidge of threat in her voice, so your kisses travel up. A pleasant distraction, given every small twitch of her legs.
Not too long before you reach the hem of her underwear, and you trap it between your teeth before releasing it. Her tummy jolts when the fabric hits her skin, and you go heart-eyed.
“Tell me who you’re looking at.”
“T-The one that brought all that crazy shit to the party.”
Of course. Handcuffs, she means. The large, wooden paddle, she means. A slow drag of your tongue advances up her v-line and her body wracks against her will.
“Crazy in a bad way?” You purr against softness, and she exhales a laugh. “Not in this context, I guess.”
“You like that kinda stuff?”
“How the fuck would I know?”
You snort before your eyes fall, trapped by the small patch of wetness that sticks to her panties. Glues the outline of her lips to the fabric. You’re seconds — inches away from going feral.
Whatever patience you entered with has withered: and with determined hands, Ellie’s underwear gets yanked, pried down her legs and tossed behind you. Your eyes glisten with excitement when they meet the red pearl that twitches in anticipation, walls that leak when the warmth of your breath brushes over the cup of her.
Her pussy’s perfect. A stunner, for sure. You and Cat were never close, but you’d hit her up to get Ellie tatted. Not even in a discreet place. It’d be somewhere where everyone — Dina — can see. On your forehead, for fucks sake—
S-Stop staring at me.
It seemed like the moans behind you became louder. You nearly shove three fingers in Ellie’s mouth as punishment for interrupting the moment, but you choke on a breath. Mumble a slur of you’re cute, can’t help it in an attempt to ease her.
And just when your tongue unravels over your bottom lip, right when Ellie’s taste is millimeters away, right when her breath hitches and her mouth drops open, the loudest crack, very reminiscent of bullets, rings across your small living room. Scares her, scares you enough to steal the attention from the art between her thighs.
The sight on the screen is new, even for you.
It’s not every day you see girls being slung across muscly laps and swatted on the ass with wooden tools with their hands bound behind them while they cry and sob and beg for their masters to hit them harder. You probably would’ve laughed at the theatrics if Ellie wasn’t here, as if you weren't about to go to town on her ten seconds ago. Both your breaths shudder and tremble as raunchy sounds of lips smacking and girls touching themselves and fingering each other split your ears in half.
Your vision tunnels and shifts when a whimper from Ellie rattles through your chest and down your ribcage. She gasps like you’ve caught her doing something bad, but she doesn’t stop whatever she’s doing. Just blushes madly with her hand shoved between her squeezed legs while her eyes flicker between you and the screen.
Time seems to whir and the room spins. The pace of your breath increases, slobbery wheezes syncing with Ellie’s when her legs cross over one another.
Your muscles move you closer, hands planted on either side of her waist, back enlengthening until your eyes are level with hers. Her tongue barely dips to wet her bottom lip, eyes swiftly flickering down to your mouth.
A hand raises right when another crack of a paddle against skin ripples through your speakers, and before Ellie can flinch, your palm caresses her cheek, thumb exploring the divets in her face. Over the healed wounds and fiery specks that hypnotize. You don’t expect her to nuzzle into your touch…
And you definitely don’t expect her arm to start moving, despite its enclosing.
Her eyelids bat, and green pierces through your chest. Over your neck, your face, your shoulders as her bicep twitches. When her lips part around a gasp, you choke.
Lemme see.
Ellie curses under her breath, kisses your palm, and undoes the twining of her legs. Her fingers are gentle where they rest over her pussy, the bones in her hand flexing as her palm digs into her clit, folds smushed around the muscles of her thumb.
That’s how you do it?
Her teeth sink into her bottom lip, masking a smile as her head shakes. Your heart pinches.
Show me how.
Her head falls to the side as her cheeks sizzle.
You first.
You shudder, and your brain scolds. This wasn’t the plan. You were supposed to smoke, watch porn, eat pussy, and escort her home safely.
Ellie insisted that you restart Smoochie the Coochie before you undress. For ambiance, she’d said when you stood on two feet, watching as she removed her hoodie. For me? She’d whispered against your cheek, in only a tank top, when you finally positioned yourself on the cushion in front of her. Face to face, pussies almost touching, your knees to the ceiling.
The volume of the footage has been turned down, but the acting… it’s fucking hilarious. You shouldn’t be smiling. You shouldn’t be giggling, but you are.
Ellie moves loose strands of hair behind her ear, grin matching yours.
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
“Hm.”
Ellie, much to your shock, makes the first move. Again.
Takes your wrist in her hand, brings your limp one up to her mouth to pepper kisses on your knuckles before pressing in between your open thighs. Your fingers are clumsy and your heart pounds against your ribcage, thighs jerking at the sticky contact of your own juices. Ellie's eyes between your legs like a hawk, leant comfortably against the pillows stacked behind her.
Her attention encourages you. You balance on the hand that rests on the couch, grinning playfully around the fingers that sink into your mouth and glide on your tongue. Ellie shakes her head with a small smile before reaching for the lighter and last joint. Sticks the end of it between her lips, flicks the lighter twice, and ignites it.
Every slow exhale of smoke gets rewarded with presses on your clit, your index and middle fingers tickling the sensitive area with learned precision. It pulsates under your fingertips whenever you lock eyes; her eyes are fervent with need, uncontrollably so, and it sends vibrations through your spine.
Slower, Ellie whispers wetly when your touch becomes rushed. Too eager for her liking. She’s always hated when you rush things. Loathes your impatience.
The moans from the film pick up again: shaky and cracked and high. They match yours when you apply just enough pressure on the spot right above your clit. Your walls constrict and slick gushes from, and Ellie curses.
When your fingers explore elsewhere, she sits up suddenly, her breath hitting your mouth when she mutters, Keep touching right there, with a tight hand around your wrist, trying to guide you back to the spot that makes your thighs quake.
I’m gonna cum if I do. There’s warning in your gasp.
Ellie puffs again before huffing a smoky breath, the scent infiltrating your senses. Your fingers almost sink inside, Wasn’t that the plan?
Cum w-with me?
Your voice is pleading, tone almost identical to when you would incessantly pester and follow Ellie around Jackson when you were younger.
Ellie, watch a movie with me?
Ellie, do a puzzle with me?
Ellie, go on a walk with me?
Ellie! Ellie! Ellie!
What used to be innocent invitations have swiftly shifted into something darker, and Ellie needs more. A shocked squeak leaves you when her free hand curls around the back of your neck to smash your lips together. Your hazy mind hadn’t registered Ellie’s fiery stares at your bruised lips, her head tilting in the opposite direction of yours, her nose brushing against yours whenever your fingers made a gooey noise.
Your eyes flutter shut when her tongue sloppily glides over your bottom lip, moans quenchless where they hit Ellie’s tongue. She swallows them down until they jolt in her stomach, and shoves her hand between her thighs once more.
Her fingers are drenched and so are yours; there’s nasty, slicked noises everywhere. From you, from Ellie, from the television that’s been forgotten by both of you.
Ellie’s movements become desperate in a matter of seconds, no longer able to keep up the pace of your kiss. Your separated lips connect only by a thin line of saliva as Ellie gasps hit the skin of your cheek.
Can’t wait to feel you on me.
Your euphoria begs to peak at Ellie’s promise, your fingers massaging all the spots that send you to the stars at a desperate pace, trying to match Ellie’s.
Cum with me, she growls like you did, Cum with me, cum with me, fuck —
Your friend’s name is a prayer on your tongue, shrouded in lust and a longing you’ve forced down to non-existence. You both succumb to pleasure in unison, the pulsing between your thighs synched with hers as she whimpers out.
I wanna tie you up like that. Tie you up? Beat your ass raw and bloody? Whatever she's looking at, you want. You'll take without hassle. Anything for her. After one glance at the screen,
Cumming for you, oh shit—
You wring out your high until there’s nothing left to give her, legs closing around your wrist at the aching sensitivity. Ellie’s head falls onto the arch of your knees, lathering your skin in spit-filled kisses, her soaked hand slowing between her legs.
“Lay down.”
“H-Hm?”
“Lay down,” you croak.
And she does, eyes filled with carnality.
The porno is long forgotten when your head shoves between Ellie’s legs, the tape stuck on the starter screen while her cries of pleasure blend with the same bullshit accordion.
You tongue her with fever, drink down all of her heartbreak that she endured while she was away from the source, mark yourself all over the terrain of her until she shatters with a cry of your name. Drenches your mouth, your tongue, your chin. Pushes you away with a cautious hand when you don’t stop. Flinches with sensitivity.
You swipe the disinfecting wipe over Ellie’s wound, fresh blood leaking into the white cotton. She assembles new bandages where she sits above you, unraveling the sterile fabric for you to wrap her in.
“I’m trying!” She whines, “It still hurts.”
“Shouldn’t have tried to ride my face— “
She flicks your forehead so hard, it thumps like a drum, and you wince before playfully biting her finger.
She snickers and allows you to collect the last bits of blood with the last tarnished rag in your first-aid kit, snagging the bandages from her grasp. She holds down the new gauze and does as she’s told, lifting her thigh on your command as you bind her messy stitches.
Why did you kiss them, though?
It lasted 0.5 seconds. A quick, gentle smack meant to soothe, but your brain doesn’t see it that way. Red alarms glow in every crevice of your cerebrum, urging you to move away from your best friend. You stare at Ellie and Ellie stares back, expression no longer readable and easy-going, and you flinch away from her.
Inviting her over for some innocent porn-watching is one thing… but kissing her without motive? Without the need to progress into something more? It stuns you more than her. You think.
“Sor — sorry — “
Ellie’s already palming at your shoulders, “It’s okay… it’s not a big deal— “
And it’s not. Why does her confirmation bloom a new ache in your chest?
Your knees pop when you hurriedly stand, and Ellie follows, hands sliding down your arms to grab your hands.
“Hey…”
You meet her eyes.
“We’re good… okay? It’s nothing serious.”
Don’t cry. You agree with a grin. One you pray she doesn’t notice cracks in its corners. She says nothing. Just caresses your cheek in unsaid thanks. Thanks for tonight. Thanks for the distraction.
Ellie returns a smile before gathering her clothes off the floor. She dresses in silence as you watch with a sorrowful gleam. Is it selfish to ask her to stay? Would it be too much? Should you? Will you?
It’s when she’s tying her boots up that you say something.
“I can walk you back!”
“I got it. I’m not going straight home.”
Ellie’s denial is calm. Gentle. Not abrasive in the slightest, but your hands quiver and heart swells, bound to burst with dejection. Where is she going? The town is sleeping.
She leaves before you can ask with a promise of seeing you in the morning for breakfast. Nothing unfamiliar, nothing changed.
My name is Nadin. I never imagined I would write something like this. I’ve always been someone who kept her worries quiet, someone who believed that even the hardest days could be endured with patience and faith. But right now, I am reaching out — not because I want to, but because I need to.
I am a wife, a mother, and one of many women in Gaza trying to survive days that feel like they have no end. There was a short time — a brief ceasefire — where we thought things might start to heal. Where the sound of war faded for just long enough to let us breathe. But that moment is gone now, and the fear has returned louder than before.
My days are filled with uncertainty, and my nights with prayer. We have lost so much. Our home was damaged, our sense of safety taken from us. But through all of this, I try to keep going. I try to hold on to what little peace I can create with my hands, my words, and my love.
I am not asking for much. Just a little help to keep our lives from falling further apart. To fix the small things — a cracked wall, a leaking roof, the pieces of daily life that help us hold on to dignity.
This campaign isn’t just about survival. It’s about holding on to what makes us human in a place that keeps trying to take that away. It’s about showing my daughter — even though I won’t mention her name here — that the world didn’t forget us.
If you’ve ever felt powerless in the face of suffering, please know that even the smallest gesture can carry great meaning. A kind word. A shared post. A quiet donation. These things remind us that we’re not alone.
My name is Nadin I’m a mother, a wife, and just one of many women in Gaza who are trying to hold on — to hope, to our families, to any piece
I am still here. Still holding on. Still believing that people out there — people like you — still care.
Please, if you feel moved, consider supporting or sharing this campaign.
summary: A study session turns into a make out session. Or the one where the most beautiful girl on campus is your situationship and you would never refuse to distract her, even during exam weeks.
words: 3.820k | warnings: (+18), college au, fuck buddies, popular!wanda x loser!reader, mostly smut but there’s actually some plot here, bottom!wanda (we need way more of this sorry), oral, fingering, some dirty talk, reader is briefly described to be shy and introverted because of the loser archetype, w and r are actually super comfortable with each other don’t be fooled, text messages are in bold cause i never tried that before.
A/N-> I have written more than 100 works for wanda, but I don’t remember ever writing casual sex before. To be a demisexual is really something, huh? Anyways, this was actually based on “One of Your Girls” from Troye Sivan, but around the middle I just started doing my own thing honestly. Good reading!
General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad | Song-Based Collection
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To inspire students to have sharper minds, as she likes to say, Miss Harkness is known for having the hardest tests on the entire campus. This means that you needed to study seriously for next week's exam, without quick readings or breaks to watch the television or talk about anything other than Applied Sociology with your friends.
And definitely, no 'study' sessions with Wanda Maximoff.
You shouldn't even think about Wanda, and her emerald eyes and bold hands. You need to think about Émile Durkheim or Max Weber, and any other sociologist from past centuries, with their difficult theories from which long and complicated questions will be in your exam.
But Wanda and the casual thing you two have is like clockwork. You had barely made up your mind about keeping your distance, and prepared a proper study session in your dorm - empty that afternoon due to a divine miracle that occupied Natasha and her girlfriend Maria all day - for your cell phone to vibrate with the notification from the person you had decided to ignore.
Stealing a glance at the contact name, you grunted quietly and turned your attention back to the book that had just finished reading the first page.
Focus.
Another vibration makes you roll your eyes.
Wanda didn't do anything wrong, maybe you could just say you’re busy.
"I am bored."
Her text makes you laugh through your nose. Typing quickly, you don't expect a return to your "And I’m busy. Talk to u later."
Your cell phone vibrates again, but you stand firm. Sociology will not study itself. There's a shift of pages, and you taste some of the mint tea from the mug on the table before your cell phone rings again.
Maybe it's someone else. It may be important.
You can’t even fool yourself.
The book is placed on your lap, and you unlock the screen for a photo that brings a warm color to your ears and spreads around your body as quickly as this whole thing began.
"What if I was in public?." You type with a certain harshness, which doesn't match the way your heart missed a beat. Or how you've completely forgotten about the book now, and all you can do is bite back a sigh at the image of the prettiest nipples in this galaxy.
Wanda responds in the same second, and you want to ignore the way your stomach twists at the thought of her feeling eager for a response from you.
"Kinky."
You laugh, rolling your eyes. "You're the worst" That's what you type. You end up sighing when looking at the pile of books around. Wanda only needed one stupid photo to completely take your focus away.
She types before you can tell her off for it. "Are you in your dorm? Wanna see you."
You bite your lip. She is so infuriating.
"I have to study."
You can almost hear her giggling on the other end. "Don't you always?"
You think about cursing at her teasing, but you don't want to cross any lines. It's true that this relationship is a constant push and pull, but Wanda isn't clingy for no reason. You're about to ask if something happened when she adds "Are you really gonna force me to send another photo..."
You swallow hard. "I'm not forcing you to do anything. I was innocently studying until now.”
It takes her a moment, but finally, there's another photo. With your fingers shaking, you forget to breathe at the image of her thighs, a red garter belt in contrast to the pale skin, barely covered by her mini-skirt. It was such a simple image yet so provocative, Wanda truly had talent.
"Fuck me." You sigh quietly, unable to type anything back for a moment.
And so she does it first. "Did I melt your brain?"
“Please come here.” You begged, only imagining her smirk on the other line.
Wanda typed back a second later; “I thought you were studying. I wouldn't want to distract you.”
You huckle incredulously at her cynicism, and almost type back a curse but end up deciding to get up instead, hurrying to make the room less messy for your guest.
Wanda takes a while to show up at your room - Unlike you, she lives on the other side of campus, in an apartment shared with her brother. The outfit she's wearing is definitely more impressive in person, and you have to control yourself not to feel jealous at the realization that a good part of the university has just seen her parading around looking so stunning. This was definitely Yelena's doing, the one responsible for trying out everything she learned in her course on her friends and successfully dressing the whole group like supermodels.
Sometimes you wish you were more sociable, at least to be friends with Yelena and get new clothes.
Not that you have any idea of this, but Wanda did a great job of hiding the way her stomach did two flips when she saw how comfy you looked, the dark green sweatshirt covering your shorts making her immediately think about exploring underneath.
"What's up, loser?"
Wanda had this problem. High defense barriers, almost all the time, but especially when she was feeling things that were out of her control. Like the way her heart raced in your presence, or how she was starting to run out of decent excuses to meet you without admitting the only reason was simply because she wanted to spend some time together.
When you first talked, freshman year, she was the most intimidating person on campus (she still is), but with a little insistence (or friends playing cupid) you had managed to see sides of her that no one else had seen. And vice versa.
It was a pretty interesting dynamic, the most popular girl on campus and a big nerd with social anxiety were somehow dating. Wanda dragged you to parties whenever possible, a possessive hand on yours and a threatening look at any idiot who thought of giving you a hard time. And often you end up in some drunken Instagram live or records of friends making out in the background.
When you weren’t doing the things she liked, Wanda would just show up. After your classes, in the study hall, during your break from your internship, and in your dorm. She didn’t mind showing you off, but there was something so soft about spending time alone. When her defenses were down, the mean girl mask would fall and she would laugh at your stupid jokes, or dress up in your clothes to make pancakes in the middle of the night.
It wasn’t an official relationship, but it was something really closer to one. Something that gave her free rein to come and go as she pleased from your life, and mess everything around as she went.
You made room for her to enter, and she gave a long kiss to your cheek before leaving her shoes at the entrance. You were blushing when you closed the door.
The dorm you shared with Natasha had little more than the space needed for two beds and two desks, but somehow you and her managed to squeeze in enough decorations on the walls and even some of her ballet and fighting awards. Your side was covered in band and movie posters and science holiday medals. A barely used keyboard sat dusty in the corner, and you had made a mental note to show Wanda how to play Over the Rainbow sometime. She tossed her backpack on the corner of your desk, and you hurried to try to clear up some of the clutter on the wood, blushing even more when she chuckled.
“Come here.” She asked softly, and you swallowed hard as you stumbled closer to her again, guided by her hands holding your wrists. Wanda actually wanted your arms around her, and that’s where she put them. So her hands went up to your shoulders. “You always get so shy when we’re alone.”
“I am shy.”
She shakes her head slightly. “That’s not true,” she says, leaning in close to brush her lips against yours. You gasp slightly, and Wanda pulls away, teasing. "You're an introvert, but no one shy says the things you say when you're turned on, darling"
Yochuckle, shaking your head with pink cheeks. "Shut up."
She bites back a smile, and leans in, but the kiss is too short, it's so unfair. You try to chase her mouth, but Wanda pulls away to hug you. And that surprises you as much as her breathing deeply into your neck.
You don't remember hugging her before. Not really. There's plenty of sex of course, and making out and pillow talk and late-night snacks. But Wanda isn't the type to cuddle, or hug. It gives what you two have an intimacy that you understand she doesn't want to have, or didn’t, past tense.
Your hand caresses your back, and you're not quite sure if you should say anything but finally you do; "Is everything okay?"
It's like throwing a bucket of cold, reality-filled water over her. She breaks the hug, forcing a laugh that doesn't convince you at all.
"Of course!" She says, pulling you close at once and giving you a kiss that's much more determined than before. That almost makes you forget where you were, almost. "Let's take these off." She pulls the folds of your sweater up, but even though you let her, you risk:
"Wanda, are you sure-"
She cuts you off again, this time kissing you with tongue. It's definitely hotter, and it elicits a breathless moan from you. Her hand holds your face, controlling the kiss until you whimper against her mouth. Wanda lets you breathe as she pushes you by the shoulders to the bed, and you fall sitting, facing her.
"I said take your clothes off." She repeats, but it's her who puts on a little show. She pulls off her blouse at once, and the exposure of her breasts covered only by a red lace bra leaves you mesmerized. Wanda giggles at your reaction. “Every damn time.” She teases, her hands moving to undo it. But you move suddenly, grabbing her hips and pulling her onto your lap in urgency. Wanda gasps in surprise at the heated kiss, losing herself in the task of removing her bra as you start to suck on her tongue. With one hand on your shoulder for support, the other ruffles your hair before she feels her bra loosen on her body, not having even noticed your hands working on the clasp until now. She bites her bottom lip as she feels the item being pulled away from her body.
“You’re getting better at this.” She teases again. You look at her with lust-bright eyes but also with a frown.
“Better? When have I ever been bad at this? Certainly not with you, because you came three times on your first time together.”
Wanda raises an eyebrow at you, her hips grinding slowly against your lap. “Like I said, not shy at all.” You roll your eyes, gripping her hips a little more firmly to guide her movements. It's Wanda who chases your mouth again, returning with equal fervor every kiss you give her.
Your hands let go of her hips to slide down her thighs, until finally touching the garter belt. You break the kiss with an affected groan, and Wanda takes the opportunity to catch her breath a little. If the image of her swollen lips and dilated pupils wasn't enough to drive you crazy, looking down did. Her skirt was wrinkled up, and the red garter belt was truly a sight. A damp spot was now visible on your pants from all her grinding, and you would have time to feel proud of making her so aroused with just kisses later.
As you pulled the garters and made them slap gently against Wanda's skin, you smiled when she shivered, a breathy moan escaping her mouth. It was such a beautiful thing, turning all her bad girl attitude into a pathetic mess of whimpering.
But suddenly you remembered that she had walked across half the campus wearing this, so your clenched jaw had another reason.
"Did you get dressed up for me?"
Wanda gave a short laugh, not really understanding what you were saying. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
You glared at her, your hands giving another warning tug, and Wanda wanted to hate the way her body twitched, but she couldn't help it.
"If not me, who?"
She blinked in confusion, deep in her own lust.
Why were you still talking when she was literally dripping on your lap?
"What are you-" She fell silent when you grabbed her throat, your grip making her thrust her hips in desperation for friction, her mouth opening in a needy moan. Her own reaction surprised her, and Wanda would have tried to work things out if you hadn't taken away her ability to respond when you kissed her again, dirty and hard until she started whimpering on your tongue again. When you pulled apart again, your fingers invaded her mouth and Wanda's eyes widened, realizing that this might be the first time she'd come without even being properly touched.
You seemed to have noticed the same thing, a chuckle escaping you as she began sucking on your fingers with the same fervor she was trying to grind into your lap.
"Tsk, look at you, Wanda." You began, your hand moving from her throat down to her garter belt, to pull it off again. "You really want me to believe anyone else can turn you into this needy mess?" Flushed with arousal, Wanda still manages to frown in confusion. Anyone else. What the hell are you talking about? There’s no one else.
But suddenly, you remove your fingers from her mouth, and when she tries to ask, it's too late. Your soaked fingers have moved down and they fill her without warning, sinking inside her and eliciting a throaty moan that makes her head fall forward, forehead to yours, and nails digging into your shoulders. You laugh hoarsely. "Fuck, you're so wet, Wands."
The dirty sound of your fingers moving inside her echoes in the room along with her breathless moans, but you don't prolong things for too long. There’s an urgency and roughness to your movements that makes Wanda roll her eyes back and bounce on your fingers in animalistic desperation.
“Oh, baby, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna—” It’s always such a beautiful sight. She arches on top of you, spasming as her climax hits her and spreads hot waves of pleasure. Your hand is soaked, but you pull your fingers away to lick them one by one as Wanda tries to get back into orbit.
When she finally does, it's rewarding. It's your turn to have your throat grabbed, and Wanda presses forward until you're lying on the bed, at her mercy, even as a smile plays on your lips.
It's time for her to shake that smugness off your face.
"You're overdressed." It comes in a warning tone, and her hands go down to remove your clothes, one by one. You help her, between one kiss and another, a touch and a squeeze, until finally, Wanda ends up on your lap again, this time, with no fabric between you other than the beautiful lingerie she picked out for you.
Oh, of course she lets you know.
"I don't want you to get any more cocky than you already are." She began between the countless breathless kisses you were exchanging, minutes on end in this hot make-out session. "But all I could think about when I bought it was how you were going to look at me." She takes advantage of your gasp in surprise to bite your lip and pull, making you tremble. With a smug little smile, Wanda looks at you with darkened eyes. "And how were you going to take it off."
Your hands move of their own accord - There's a hard tug to pull her against you, and you end up rolling around on the bed, until Wanda ends up underneath, writhing at your touch. Your fingers slipped under the belt again, but now you take your time to remove the item, slowly until Wanda couldn't hold her breath any longer.
Stealing a glance at her dripping pussy that she displayed so proudly on her parted legs, you clicked your tongue again before finding your space in her middle, your hands fitting behind her thighs.
"You spoil me, you know?" You whisper, feeling her fit her ankles into your back, an impatient whimper escaping her. You were so close to where she wanted, needed, but still not giving her what she was begging for. "I don't know what I did to deserve such a sweet gift."
Wanda tries to play along, she really does. But you give her a tentative lick, and another, and all that escapes her are shaky moans, as one hand grips your hair, the other seeks support in the sheets. Something she can pull at will without hurting.
She feels hot in all the right places, and she wants to police herself for how addicted she is becoming to the feeling of having you like this, but it's impossible to think about that right now. With you eating her so well and making her forget all her problems.
You hum suddenly, satisfied at the taste, and at the vibration, Wanda loses it. There's a loud whimper escaping her throat as she arches against you, begging for more, but you hold her in place, your own hips grinding against the bed as Wanda starts to sound desperate for your tongue to go deeper.
When you risk teasing her again, shallow tongue strokes that leave her dizzy and shaking, Wanda loses her patience. She curses under her breath, and grabs your hair with determination, managing a satisfied grunt from you before she forces your face against her pussy. Not caring if she’s hurting you or suffocating you, Wanda chases her high with near desperation. She grinds her hips against your face, and locks her legs behind your back, using you until she comes.
She sounds so hot when it finally happens. Your name drips from her tongue as she drips into your mouth. It’s so strong that her body instantly goes weak, her legs shaking around you. You chuckle against her thigh, taking great satisfaction in leaving her like this.
Still catching her breath, she calls out. “Come here, asshole.”
You think she wanted a kiss, maybe another orgasm. But Wanda just adjusts you to her side, so she can rest against you. This is new too, spooning. It's the kind of thing casual encounters shouldn't do.
Of course she notices how tense you've become, and it only takes the moment for her to stop shaking for Wanda to look up, her chin resting on your chest.
"You don't have to overthink everything."
A nervous laugh escapes you. "I wasn’t."
Wanda makes a small grimace of unconvincedness. "I know you were. It's what you do. It's one of the things that makes you, you." She says, and it takes you a little by surprise. She sighs then, and looks away, resting her face against your chest again. You almost think she's not going to say anything else when she continues. "It's good that you think of all the possibilities. That way I'll never be able to disappoint you, you'll always see it coming."
You frown, absorbing her words in silence for a moment. Wanda begins to draw patterns on your stomach that look like her initials, until you sigh.
"I know we haven't named it what’s between us, but whatever it is, you can always tell me what's bothering you." You let her know quietly, your fingers playing through the strands of her hair. "And we can just talk, you know? It doesn't always have to end in sex. You don't have to get a new lingerie as an excuse to see me. No matter how hot you look on it."
She pinches you for the joke, but she’s smiling when she looks back at you.
“You’re not good at the whole casual sex thing, are you?” She teases, but she’s genuinely so happy with your previous words that she just can’t hide it.
You smile, watching her hover closer and closer. “You think? Because I think I’m doing pretty well at this, miss-Oh, baby, I’m gonna come,”
You do an imitation that makes Wanda's eyes widen and she blushes deeply while she huffs in embarrassment. You burst out laughing when she tries to cover your mouth and stop the teasing, and it ends up turning into a small fight of hands and tickles until Wanda ends up underneath again, now with her hands pinned on either side of her head.
There is an exchange of glances between the two of you, and you are smiling just like her.
You know that today, Wanda will not tell you what bothered her, what brought her here. She is right, however, you’re an overthinker and already have a hundred possibilities for what could have brought her there, and considering that you know from her friends how much she has been fighting with her father in the last few weeks, it is not hard to assume it is related to that.
But Wanda returns the intensity of your gaze, and you know that something between you has changed. She will tell you when she is ready.
Your grip on one of her hands loosens, and Wanda uses the opportunity to touch your cheek.
"What are you thinking about?"
You sigh, and she can tell. Her heart misses a beat, and she considers if she’s ready for a confession. If it would scare her or make her so happy, she would freeze. Maybe both.
But you grimace a little, and smirk, and Wanda feels silly for even considering.
"I'm definitely going to fail Miss Harkness's class this semester."
Wanda frowns and then bursts out laughing, confused and incredulous.
"What?" She asks between laughs. “Why would you be thinking about this now? With a naked girl in your bed, you nerd!”
You giggle at her words, your free hand fitting on her waist as you wait for her to stop chuckling. "I don't know why you're laughing, this is your fault. You ruined all my study sessions with your... distracting presence."
She rolls her eyes in a playful manner. “"Well, I could always just leave-"
You grip her waist tighter, holding her in place. "Nah, who cares about classes anyway? Come here."
Wanda will definitely help you study, she makes a mental promise. But she will kiss you first just a little longer.
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