First Steps

Midori Sour pt.2 (d.f.)

pairing: dominic fike x (photographer fem! reader)

word count: 3,347

summary: you attend your friend Omar's pool party. what happens when liquid courage and a certain curly-haired boy combine to change your perspective on LA?

warnings: (18+) explicit language, smut, smoking of maryjane, unprotected s3x (kinda?),

author's note: Let me know down below if you guys would like a part 3 with the morning after. It would be such an adorable way to end this little mini series <3

-

It seemed he was thinking of you too, because soon after blue light flooded a small part of the room from a text, an unsaved number.

It read: “Can’t sleep. Come watch tv with me?”

You all but ran to the door, hopping up and making your way across the hall with no second thoughts. You lightly knocked, peering down the empty hallway, blanketed in silence as you waited for him to answer.

Your heart caught in your throat as the door swung open, and there he was. Clad in nothing but pajama pants, towering over your heated frame, he looked like everything you needed in this moment. 

“One second..” He turns to walk back to the bed briefly, grabbing a freshly rolled joint and returning to meet you back at the door frame. “You down to come smoke this with me first?” He tilted his head slightly as he waited for your answer. You nodded, a small smile making its way onto your face.

You stepped aside, letting him lead you down the dimly lit hallway. The scent of his cologne followed behind him as you both made your way to the backyard. It looked so different out here when it was empty. Neon lights gently blanketed the large pool, pool floats drifting aimlessly, and the moon reflecting delicately in the calmness of the pool. You and Dominic walked to the edge of the water, sitting criss-crossed aside on the warm ground. The silence was a sharp contrast to the overstimulation of earlier, save from the quiet flickering of Dom’s lighter as he lit the joint. You watched closely as his pink lips parted, ghosting the smoke effortlessly. 

“So..”He took an additional hit before handing it to you gently.”How long have you been like..in LA full time?” His eyes traced your features as you took a hit, waiting eagerly for your answer.

“Almost..6 months just about.” You blew out a bustling cloud of smoke, handing the joint back.

“You feel like you’re adjusting well?” 

“Can you ever really feel adjusted to LA?” You sighed. He chuckles dryly, smoke coming with it.

“I’m with you on that. I've been here for a few years now, and shit, it still feels like sometimes I can’t ever keep up.” He shook his head, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he titled his head back to gaze up at the blanket of scarce stars blanketing the dark sky above you. The joint was at its near end, and after taking a final hit, he looked back towards you.

“Finish it off for me hm?” He held the small remnants of the joint in the air near you, watching you closely as you leaned forward to take a generous hit, not breaking eye contact. You pulled back, coughing at the smoke filling your lungs, and you both broke out into giggles at the choked sentence you attempted to get out mid cough.

“Holy shit.” You finally began to catch your bearings.

“You good?” He leans forward, one hand reaching to grab the underside of your jaw gently.

“Yeah..” Your breath stalls at the sudden contact. “Do you…should we go inside and get snacks or something?” You mentally facepalm yourself.

Snacks? Seriously Y/N? 

“Oh uh..sure.” He hops up, offering his hand down to you, and hosting you to meet him on your feet.

You are once again trailing behind Dominic as you both make your way back inside. The kitchen is just as stunning as you remember , draped in marble countertops with a large island in the center. The pool lights crashed through the glass wall overlooking the backyard, serving as the backdrop to you and the tall boy’s silhouettes.

As he opened the fridge, you went to the candy drawer, remembering it from last time you came over.

“Y/N I’m not gonna kill you for grabbing a snack you know? Look through the drawers hunny,  I can’t even finish half the shit I buy anyway.” Omar stated.

“Yeah-sorry.” You stumbled out.

“You know, one day soon, you’re gonna come out of that shell of yours.”

“Maybe for the right amount of liquor and a miracle." You sigh.

You chuckled at the memory, settling on a pack of sour patches to sooth your munchies. You padded over lightly to the island, leaning back up against it. Dominic made his way across from you, leaning against the counter opposite you. You were too focused on opening the package to notice his gaze trained on your face.

After finally getting it open, you finally looked up at him. “Want some?” You raised an eyebrow.

“For sure.” He leans forward, opening his palm as you shake a few into his hand.

A comfortable silence fell over you both, as you briefly turned your head to look out the window. Being alone with Dominic was strangely comfortable, almost like you two already knew each other. You returned your gaze to him, surprised to find him still taking glances at you, seemingly deep in thought.

“What?” You broke the silence.

“What do you mean what?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what again?” He asks, genuine concern lacing his voice.

“Your eyes, that thing you do. I feel like you’re looking too deep into me. Like you’re gonna see something you don’t like if you stop prying.” You state dryly, peering down at your feet that have become the most interesting things in the world.

“I haven’t been able to stop looking at you all night, don’t you realize that? If there was something about you I disliked, which there isn’t, I’d know by now.” You couldn’t help the heat spreading through your cheeks, and more importantly the schoolgirl-like smile fighting its way to your face, tilting your head down to your feet in an attempt to hide it.

Your breath stalls in your throat as you see him stand up from his leaned position on the counter, walking closer and closer to you until there was nothing but a few inches between you too. You could feel the heat blazing from his skin, and you had no choice but to face him as he caged you in against the counter with his arms on either side of you. He was towering over you, bringing his face so close to you that the faint smell of mint and weed was faint.

His doe eyes were blown, and you couldn’t help yourself from utterly and completely drowning in them. A small smirk made its way to his face as he took notice of your shaky breathing, your own eyes mirroring his. 

“Dom..” You muttered weakly.

“What is it?’ He asks, feigning ignorance. “You have me out here about to kiss a girl I just met today, you realize that?” He sighs.

Please do something, anything.

You nodded, begging him silently to do it. Just as you stood on your tippy toes to hover your lips closer, he lunged forward gently to connect your lips. You had been aching for this feeling all day, and the pleasure surging through your veins was even more euphoric than you could’ve imagined. It started out gently, testing the waters as you both sank deeper. You and his hands began to make their ways to explore each other, making your kiss deeper and more intense. 

You gasped as he lifted you onto the counter, and he replaced his mouth in no time. Your legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer as you began to slyly grind up into him. It took everything in him to pull back from you, and you almost chased his lips as he began to speak.

“How far do you wanna go?” He pulled back from you, raising his eyebrows, rubbing circles into your hips.

“I want you to take me all the way Dominic.” You breathe out.

Holy shit this cannot be happening.

Without missing a beat, he lifts your heated frame into his arms, resuming your kiss as he walks you back to his room, closing the door behind him. He places you down gently on the bed, crawling over you between your thighs, using his arms to hold him up above you.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He says breathlessly, pupils blown out from the adrenaline pulsing through him.

“Hm you think so?” You asked shyly.

“Yeah I do.” He smiled at your coyness, diving back in to connect your lips. His warm hands made their way under his hoodie on your body, making you gasp as they came in contact with your stomach. You began to rid yourself of it, and he leaned back to help you finish, tossing somewhere in the room haphazardly. 

He kissed down your jaw, kissing and sucking lightly across your neck, tilting your chin back gently for access. A whimper broke from your lips, cutting through the silence in the room. He continued his torture down the expanse of your chest, leaning back to play with the edge of your tube top. 

He tilted his head to the side at you adorably, “Is it okay if I take this off?” 

“Mhm.” You nodded.

You pulled it over your head, the both of you now only clad in bottoms. You instinctively rush to cover your chest, and his intense gaze softens for a moment. He gently grabs both of your hands in his hand, removing them from your chest to push your hands above your head. He dips his head down, peppering kisses all over your chest. 

“So so pretty.” He says between kisses. His mouth trails over to your nipples, eyes locking with yours as he wraps a mouth around your nipple. A whine rips through your throat, echoing a little too loud. He pulls back, whispering near your ear while nipping at it.

“I need you to be quiet for me babydoll. You think you can do that for me?” His voice sends a lightning strike of pleasure down through you and to your core. His eye contact found its way back to you, the depth of his stare drowning you. With the way he looked at you, he could convince you to do anything.

You nodded, eyes glazing over.

“Good girl.” He nods back at you, humming in approval. “Lift up your hips for me.” He slid your underwear and pajamas off of you gently.

A chill ran through you as you realized you were completely and utterly bare to him, and he had the same realization. His eyes raked over your frame, mouth slightly agape as he took you in fully.

“Jesus christ you are perfect.” He rasped out, heat flushing your features at the compliment.

“Dom..” You cover your eyes with your hand, turning away from him as a smile breaks out on your face. 

He silently slid down the bed, finding a place between your thighs as he hiked your leg up onto his shoulder. Your breath began to become unstable, your brain unable to catch up to your body. You felt his soft lips gently kiss the inside of your thighs, and he leaned his face onto your thigh.

“Hey…look at me baby. Please?” You couldn’t resist the sickeningly sweet rasp of his voice, and peeled your arm away from your face to look down at him. His puppy eyes were impossible, brown and deep, silently begging you to fully give yourself to him.

You watched as he hovered over where you needed him most, finally connecting his mouth to your core. You threw your head back at the contact, the weed and buildup from today combining to make you more sensitive than you’ve ever been in your life. Your breath stalls, and you grip onto him for dear life, suppressing the moan that threatens to spill as he works you over with his tongue. 

He begins to slide a finger into your entrance slowly, gripping onto your hip to keep you still as your hips jolt at each brush of your g-spot. Your hips grind up into him, small whimpers and heavy breaths racking your chest. He hums in appreciation, selfishly relishing in how hard you were fighting to stay quiet. The plateau you had been on was now turning into an incline, and you felt yourself becoming closer and closer to tumbling over the edge. Your legs shook uncontrollably, stiffening as your hands searched wildly for something, anything to bite down on.

You settled on a throw pillow, bringing it to your mouth as you sunk your teeth into it. Your eyes rolled as a sob racked your chest into the pillow as your orgasm suddenly washed over you. Dominic watched uninterrupted as your back arched, and you gave into him shamelessly, convulsing underneath him with your hand laced in his near your hip.

He let you ride it out before pulling back as you whined at the sensitivity, wiping his mouth of you and bringing himself back above you.

“Hey..” He cupped your face gently, trying to coax your eyes back to him. “Are you okay?”

“Mhm.” You nodded, still finding your breath. “Holy shit.”

He chuckles at your dramatics, leaning down to kiss your forehead. When you finally open your eyes, the fire behind them is burning bright, pupils blown from your recent rush. 

You peer down between you both, noticing the tent in his pants that’s poking lightly against your thigh. He follows the path down to where you’re looking,  taking in the way your mouth was slightly agape. 

“Hey.” He calls your attention back to him, rubbing his thumb gently at your cheekbone. “Are you okay if I-”

“Yeah!” You clear your throat. “Sorry. Yeah. That’s fine.”

He flashes you a look of gentleness, moving back from you to rid himself of his pajama pants. He groans at the relief, his manhood stiff and taunts against his stomach, precum glinting in the lights of the room. You can’t help when your eyes widen at the sight. He climbs back over you, pulling the comforter over you both up to his hips.

“Dom..I don’t…I don’t think that’s gonna fit.” You weren’t a virgin, but the sheer size of him compared to what you were prepared for was making your mind race. His eyebrows raise, as he smiles down at you. 

“I’m flattered that you think I’m well endowed. But I promise you, it will. Trust me.” Sincerity danced around the rings of his irises, leaving you no choice but to believe him. You nod slowly, releasing a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Are you on birth control baby?” He continues. You nod again. He kisses your nose. “Good.”

He finally settles between your legs, beginning to rub his tip between your dripping folds, making both you and him gasp. “Holy shit baby you are soaked.” He groans, squeezing his eyes together to find his bearings. He pauses for a moment, massaging your hip bone as he begins to speak again.

“You are beautiful, you know that?” He looks down your frame, taking in you again once again, relishing in the compromising position you both found yourself in. “I need you to let me know if it's ever too uncomfortable, I will stop anytime. I mean it. Can you do that for me?” 

“Mhm.” You nod, unconsciously grinding your hips up into his in impatience.

“Ok. Ok. I get it.” His breath stalls at the contact, turning his attention back to between your legs. He finally begins to push the head in, both of you gasping again. “Hey. Breathe.” He nodded down at you, taking in your still chest. You attempted to oblige, short, harsh breaths leaving your nose in an attempt to relax yourself. Your eyes rolled as he worked into you inch by inch, the slick walls of you welcoming him in effortlessly. Your hips jump as he finally presses fully into you, brushing your g-spot and making him near whine as you fully sheathed him.

“There we go. Atta girl.” He praised raspily, delighting in how your legs began to wrap around him and your eyes found him in a sultry and desperate spell. When you fully adjusted as he moved slowly, a tame moan broke through the barrier of your lungs, and he ducked near your ear once again. “Shh baby, you gotta be quiet for me remember?”

“Dom I’m trying- it’s so hard.” You whimper pathetically, sounding almost on the verge of tears as you wrapped your arms around his toned back. 

“I know baby I know.” He tuts in mock sympathy, picking up his pace slightly and pressing deeper into you with every thrust. “You can do it though, I know you can.” You threw your head back, clenching down onto him, your hips jolting as he prodded at the one spot you needed him over and over. 

Your hands dug into him harshly, sure to leave some marks in the morning. Your best efforts to conceal your noise were no match for the torturous pleasure washing over you, coursing through your veins. The boy between your legs seemed almost hellbent on making you wanna scream. A guttural moan flies from your lips, and his hand flies up to catch in its path, cupping your mouth.

His eyes lock onto yours, watching as they roll, just as his hips rolled fervently between your own. Your legs began to shake around him, cueing him into your impending release. Another breathless moan is muffled against his palm as he reaches his free hand between you both, using the wetness there to circle your sensitive bud.

“You gonna be a good girl and give me another?” He watches as your wet eyes fight to look back at him, groaning as you begin to clench down on him relentlessly. Before you both knew it you were flying over the edge for the second time, holding onto the man for dear life as silent sobs wracked through your whole body. “There you go. Give it to me.” He rasps, biting down on your shoulder lightly when his own release begins to creep up.

As your orgasm begins to wane in intensity, his own finally approaches, both of you a desperate mess as you hold onto each other like your lives depend on it. You feel him fill you up with one final pump. You would have to grapple in the morning with the fact that you had sex with a man on the first day of knowing him, and welcomed his eager release into you so willingly. However, said man was Dominic Fike, so any residual regret would be very limited, if at all.

He gently pulls out, the emptiness a sharp contrast to the depths of you he has just reached. His mop of curls was flush against your chest as he laid his head down on you. You both laid wrapped in the comforter and the warmth of one another, letting your breaths catch up with you. Your nails scratched his scalp lightly, curls slightly damp, and a hand ran down his overly warm back. Your eyes were barely open, but you peered down at him , noticing his fluttering closed.

“Y/N” He grumbles lightly, almost startling you.

“Hm?”

“Can I take you out to breakfast tomorrow?” 

A tired smile breaks out on your face. “Do you want to?”

“I do.” He shuffles closer to you, burying his face in your neck. “Don't want you to think this is all I wanted you know? You are amazing, from what I can tell. Wanna keep talking to you.” You feel him smile into your neck, pecking a light kiss after.

“I’d like that.”

“Also want you to keep making me midori sours if that's okay.” He says, wrapping himself impossibly closer as if being in your skin wouldn’t even suffice.

“Mm. I can do that.” You sigh comfortably.

You both fell asleep, limps wrapped up haphazardly around one another. The serenity of the night blanketed you both, both of you blissfully unaware of the chaos that Dominic’s story had caused.

While you drifted deeper, a blue notification lit up the entire room:

“Instagram: 1000+ notifications”

-

TO BE CONTINUED: I have made the executive decision to make a finale: part 3! It will be very fluffy and a bit comical, I look forward to wrapping this up in a really sweet way. Thank you all, enjoy!

worlds collide | dominic fike

pairings — dominic/reader | fan girl!au |

word count : 4.6k

summary : after dominic finds out you had a smut blog dedicated to him from your teenage years, he reacts in a different way than you expected.

warnings : smut, angst, fingering in car, fucking in public, oral (f) receiving, voyeurism, daddy!kink, degrading, blowjob, choking, reader passes out, not proof read lolz

authors note : yeah, this entire fic is a manifestation.

elliot masterlist dominic fike masterlist

When you were eighteen years old, you had the biggest crush on Dominic Fike.

No, you didn’t have posters littered upon your wall; or always talk about how godly he looked to your friends. You kept those emotions bottled within you—and decided to do something a bit more..personal.

You loved his music, you really did, and always found the way he carried himself to be so fucking attractive. Every single feature on his face was perfectly symmetrical to the other; and you had never felt so infatuated with a celebrity before.

His music would always be blaring in your ears, whether it was on the way to school or plugged into a small set of earphones while you did your homework.

You remember opening your laptop one night, searching up fanfiction about him, chewing on one of those sour candies that were always in between your teeth.

Dominic Fike x Reader | daddykink!

Furrowing your brows at the words, you were confused as to what a daddy kink was. So then you clicked on the link, and an entire new world was flashed before your eyes.

You didn’t even know what a kink was, but by the end of the night, your eyes burned by the dimly lit screen as you read numerous fics about him, living through different universes where he was your brothers’ best friend, friends with benefits, and alternate reality fics.

It was like your secret obsession, going on your computer right after school and reading a bunch of new stories. But then, eventually, you ran out of new works to read—

And decided to make your own.

Sitting criss crossed on your bed, your tongue poked out the corner of your lips, your fingers ached as you wrote thousands and thousands of words of pure erotica. At first, you were shy, blushing as you typed the first few sentences; but then it began to flow through your figure as you published your first fic.

After a day, you didn’t get any likes, so debated on deleting it. But then you got a notification a few hours later, signaling that someone had reblogged your post.

fikesfuturegf : love it! can’t wait for the next part !

Smiling down at your phone, you knew that you couldn’t stop now.

In a matter of two months, you had two thousand followers, always waiting for your next posts. It was about to become summer, so you kept up with the tumblr blog for a year, before getting accepted into UCLA, and was too busy moving to update anymore. After getting busy with school and working a two part time jobs to pay the rent for your studio; you just didn’t have anymore time to write.

In two years, you had completely forgotten about the blog. But still put your writing skills to use, looking for jobs online as a music writer; and published a few samples of your work. What you didn’t expect, was for a specific artist to email you—

Which is the entire reason you are now dating the man you wrote countless smut about.

The adrenaline and shock that slapped you in the face when you saw his manager’s email knocked the wind out of your figure. You were on break from your coffee shop job, checking your notifactions, and saw the small text besides the gmail emoticon app.

Hi!

This is Dominic Fike’s Manager, Eloise Harmen.

We’ve reviewed your work and are interested in working with you, and would love if you replied within the next few days!

Hopefully you agree, thank you.

Your thumbs moved so fast to reply, agreeing on a time and date. It didn’t feel real until you walked to the address they had given you, wearing your most professional outfit, eyes bulging when his studio door swung open by Dominic himself.

His hair was in blonde curls, with dark roots, looking fluffy and bouncy. Tan skin looking smooth and honey like, his red lips were glossy and soft looking, a grey pullover and red puffy vest matched with a pair of black skinny jeans behind his outfit.

Holy fuck. You came right there.

His eyes flickered when they met yours, swiping up and down your figure, before stretching his hand towards you with a charming smile, “You must be Y/N! I’m Dominic.”

Oh yeah, you knew.

Your mouth became dry, standing frozen in place, as the man that you’ve imagined fucking you inside a public bathroom, in his car, in a fucking magical rain forest, was standing right in front of your face. Your chest rose as his brows furrowed at your lack of words, worry swirling in his eyes.

“Are you—okay? You look a little pale.”

Slapping a hand against your forehead, you nodded, sending him a tight smile, “Uh, yeah. Fine.”

His smile faltered as he stepped aside, letting you in, “Okay, cool. Shall we?”

You didn’t say anything, awkwardly following him to the couch, and made a big distance between you two by sitting at the edge. You don’t notice the confused look that crossed his features, as he let out a small chuckle.

He rubbed the back of his neck, “I don’t bite, y’know.”

Too caught up in the shock of it all, and how much better looking he was in person; you didn’t laugh, blinking at him as his beautiful voice sunk into your mind. He was so fucking good looking, making your breathing turn shallow as you realized you had been staring too long; and averted your gaze to the notebook in your hands, “I uh, I have a few samples for you.”

He nodded, clapping his hands together, afterwards sipping on the coffee from the table, “Alright, dope. Oh—did you want anything?” He offered, your heart fluttering as you looked up at him. You kept falling in love over and over again with his eyes, and how deep and brown they were; like the richest chocolate you’ve ever seen, “Coffee? Water? Weed?” He joked at the end.

You blinked, trying to not to get lost in those eyes, and shook your head before looking back down.

“No thank you.”

And for the next two hours, your tone had been clipped, reviewing which general idea of the samples he liked and what to bounce off of. The nerves didn’t fade at all, growing when you worried he thought you were weird, and somehow could read your mind and find out about all the things you’ve written about him. By the end of it, you were really sweaty, just wanting to leave so you could fan girl about it later in your room.

As soon as the session finished, you stood up, and Dominic sent you a crooked smile, “Thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow right?”

Your eyes rounded, “Tomorrow?”

He frowned.

“I don’t know if El told you, but we’re working on an album. I’m gonna need at least ten samples in a month—and we need to work together everyday until then.”

Oh shit.

His eyes grew in size, “Is that…okay?”

“Yeah,” you muttered, freaking out on the inside, grabbing your notebook before rushing to the exit,

“See you.”

And for the past two weeks, sometimes in the late hours of the night, you would work amongst Dominic as you reviewed music samples that consisted of the audios he created and the lyrics you wrote.

He would always try to crack jokes, which were pretty funny, but you would forget to laugh; being to distracted by how enchanting his eyes were. You would barley look at him, not wanting to creep him out, and staid quiet and professional for the most part.

Then, one day, after you were packing up to leave—your figure was heading towards the door, but paused when he called your name, “Y/N—can I ask you something?”

You turned around, blinking at him, as you nodded stiffly, “Um, sure.”

Fuck. He found out about the blog.

That had to be it.

You were dead. He was going to sue you for being a fucking pervert.

Biting your bottom lip in anticipation, waiting for him to laugh in your face about how weird and gross you were, shock once again flooded you as he drew his brows together, “What’s your problem with me? Have I offended you in any way?”

You tilted your head, not expecting those words.

“My problem?”

He gulped, rubbing the back of his neck before mustering up a shy smile. Your heart melted.

“You barley speak, and act like you’re too disgusted to be near me. I just thought you had some beef with me,” he explained, stepping towards you. His tone was glum, “Which upsets me because—I’m into you. Like, really into you.”

This had to be a fucking joke.

You did not believe this.

The boy you’ve been literally fantasizing over for years just told you he had feelings for you, and thought you didn’t like him. It was humorous actually, making a laugh of disbelief fall from your lips, his cheeks turning pink as he figured you were laughing at his admission, “I’m guessing you don’t feel the same.”

You gulped, “No…no. I just—I like you too.”

His brows rose in surprise, “Word?”

Lips quirking into a smile, you nodded.

“Word.”

Sinking his teeth into his plump bottom lip, he shoved his hands into his pockets, shrugging, “Well then—can I take you out sometime? Like, on a date?”

You couldn’t agree fast enough.

Giggling like kids, your sock covered feet rubbed against your boyfriend of two years, Dom, as you laid on the couch. You wrapped your arms around his chest, not wanting him to leave for the studio, his scent of marijuana and manly cologne hitting your senses, “No! I don’t wanna share you, Dom.”

He chuckled, pressing a quick kiss to your lips, leaving your cheeks pink before lightly pushing you off and standing up.

“I’ll be back soon,” he grabbed his keys from the table, smiling cutely at you, “Only for a few hours. Then we can watch Love Island and get stoned, hm?”

You pouted, but nodded, him kissing the top of your head before leaving the shared apartment you both lived in.

Letting out a sigh of content, you got a gmail notification, the ding! being heard from the table. Grabbing it from the surface, your eyes popped open at the text.

It was from your gmail, a robot animated message from tumblr, celebrating your six year anniversary since you’ve first posted on it. You had forgotten all about it. Clicking on the link, you were brought back to your old account, followers wondering where you had been and why you disappeared.

Reading your old works, biting on your thumbnail, you found to crazy that you were now with the person you used to write about. And you just say—the real thing was way better.

You didn’t notice how long you had been going through your works, not hearing the front door slamming shut, flinching when a pair of lips pressed against your neck, “Hey baby—what you reading?”

“Nothing—Dominic!”

He pulled the phone from your hands, a smile on his lips at first, not expecting for what he was about to get himself into. You felt like you were going to cry, hand flying to your mouth, as his brows furrowed as he scrolled downwards. His eyes flew to yours as you stared at him, horrified, hoping he didn’t break up with you and kick you out of the place.

It was embarrassing. You wanted to die.

He blinked, processing most likely, before his voice rasped, “Did you…write this?”

It was like word vomit. It kept spilling out and getting more worse.

“It was before I met you, and I forget about it—but when we met, I remembered and that’s why I was so cold, and I got this stupid text from tumblr that was celebrating my anniversary, and you weren’t supposed to—“

“Y/N,” he cut you off, placing the phone onto the table, “It’s okay. I don’t—think differently of you. It’s just…a little weird, not gonna lie.”

Twisting your mouth to the side, you nodded, “I know. If you want to break up with me—“

“Of course I don’t,” he muttered, shaking his head. But his eyes did flicker, “I just—didn’t expect it. It’s so….graphic.”

You gulped, “Do you think I’m a creep?”

He paused, his jaw tightening, and it sent you off. Standing up onto your feet, which padded against the wooden floor, you let out a cry, “Oh my god, you do!”

“Wait—Y/N..”

Slamming the door to the bathroom shut, tears rolled down your cheeks, covering a hand over your mouth as you quietly sobbed. Dom kept knocking on the door, repeating your name, and asked you to open the door. But you didn’t, hugging your knees, as you felt like your boyfriend didn’t love you anymore. I mean, could you blame him?

He must’ve thought you were such a pervert.

You regretted writing that stupid blog. You regretted even meeting him, because you had fallen so hard for him, and now he was going to leave you. It was all your fault; and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Time went by, and your boyfriend returned, knocking on the door once again, “Y/N—open the door, please.”

Sniffling, you had no choice but to do what he said, bracing yourself for him breaking up with you. He was a kind person, so he would do his best to do it gently, which hurt even more. Wiping at your eyes, you took a deep breath, and swung open the door.

One of his hands leaning above the door frame, his eyes rounded, brows raising; not expecting for you to finally open it. You stared at him with pink cheeks and nose, eyes puffy from crying, as you hugged yourself.

Your chest hurt as he looked at you, worry glossing over his eyes, “Are you okay?”

You shook your head.

“No, but I’ll pack my things. I understand—“

He took a step forward, knitting his brows, “I’m not breaking up with you. Some silly blog that you wrote when you were a kid doesn’t erase the two years we’ve had together,” he told you, pinching your chin with a small smile, “I mean, yeah, it’s a bit odd—but we don’t ever have to bring it up again. I’ll act like it never existed.”

You wiped your nose, sniffling, “I don’t know..”

His hand flew to your jaw, making you look up at him, and the sincerity in his eyes. He rubbed his jaw on the outline of your cheekbone, “I promise I don’t care. I really don’t. I love you.”

You nodded, still looking ashamed, and he tapped your cheek,

“What? You don’t love me anymore?” He teased, smirking down at you.

You laughed softly, him pulling you into a hug, arms wrapping around your figure as you smelled his warm scent against your cheek. Fluttering your eyes shut, his fingers rubbed your scalp, still doubting yourself as you sighed against him.

“I love you too.”

A few weeks went by, and the incident wasn’t on your mind as much, doing your best to push it away from your mind. Dom’s like felt heavy in yours as he rubbed your cheekbone, the limo driver focusing on the road, as his fingertips trailed down to the waistband of your dress.

You had just attended an event together, and were on your way back home, and didn’t expect for things to take such a turn. You gasped into the kiss when his nimble fingers delved beneath the fabric of your underwear, his other hand moving to your thigh, as you felt him smirk against you, “Gotta be quiet, okay?”

Adrenaline shot through you as his thumb began to circle your clit, letting out a soft moan which he swallowed; your wetness sticky against his skin, “So fucking wet,” he muttered, sinking a finger into your pulsing heat, “You’re such a fucking slut for daddy, aren’t you? Getting finger fucked in the back of the car where anyone can see.”

Your lust duplicated as your hips rose to meet the thrusts of his fingers, cool medal ring burning the inside of your walls. Hand flying to his wrist, other one on his shoulder, you panted in his ear as he moved to suck the flesh of your neck, “Feels—so good. Holy shit, Dom.”

“Hm, does it?” He purred, adding a second finger, embarking a hiss from you as he quickened his pace.

You nodded, spreading your thighs further apart, pulling away to glance at the driver; who must’ve known what was going on. There’s no way he didn’t, not with how loud your heavy pants were or the slightly slick sounds of your pussy.

Dom didn’t like that your attention wasn’t on him, growling, “Look at me,” while his fingers gripped your chin, the other sliding in and out of your slit while your eyes hooded in pleasure. His thumb quickened its circles on your pearl, his teeth gritting as he forced you to look into his eyes, “Don’t look at him. He’s not making you cum, is he? It’s me. So fucking cream my fingers for me.”

Your lips fell open as your brows furrowed, the knot in your belly growing as his hot breath fanned your lips, “I’m gonna—“

“Then do it,” he snapped, making your eyes round before letting go all over his hand, “Good fucking girl. There we go.”

Your fist balled up the fabric of his button up, figure shuddering as his fingers slid from your soaking folds, rubbing your swollen nub as your orgasm shot through you. Sucking in a harsh breath, you bit your bottom lip, almost drawing blood as you tried your best to remain silent. Dissolving into pleasure, he didn’t break eye contact, watching with a faint smug smirk as you released onto him.

When you were coming down, the car parked in the familiar driveway of you apartment, the driver announcing your were home.

“Thanks, bro,” Dom called out, sucking on his fingers, before sending you a wink and hopping out the car.

Your legs shook as you followed after him.

You were pretty sure that was the hardest you ever came in your entire life.

Scrolling through your phone, you heard the door to Dom’s dressing room slam shut—causing your eyes to flicker up into his stormy ones. Your brows rose as his drew together, like bruised and swollen from probably biting on them; something he did when he was stressed. You sat up in your seat as he stalked over to you, veins protruding from his neck, as he cursed harshly, “I can’t hit the fucking notes. El keeps getting on my ass about it.”

You sympathized for him, standing up and walking over to him, “Hey, you got this,” you mumbled, hand falling on his shoulder,

“You have a show in twenty min—“

His hand flew to your wrist, pupils turning darker, his tone bitter, “You think I don’t know that? Hence why I’m fucking pissed,” he spat, shoving you against the wall. Your eyes rounded as he ripped the tank top you had on into two, breasts spilling out, hands flying to cup them before smashing his lips against yours, “I’m gonna take it out on you, and you’re going to fucking take it.”

Well—you weren’t one to deny that.

His fingers flew to the zipper of your shorts, leading you to kick them down your legs, his teeth clashing against yours as your chest pressed against his, “Suck my cock,” he ordered, and you dropped to your knees, looking up at him with big eyes. His eyes narrowed, “Is it gonna take itself out or what? Hurry the fuck up.”

Your heat clenched at his words, mean words, thighs pressing together as you got to work. Small hands flying to his zipper, the sound of it being opened ringing in the room, along with his heavy pants as he watched you intently with a cold look. Gulping, you spotted the hard dent in his boxers, mouth watering as you pulled those down as well.

His cock sprang upwards, head leaking with his cum pre-cum and beet red; his hand flying to wrap his long fingers around his shaft, “Stick out your tongue,” he barked, and when you did, he smirked lazily before tapping the tip onto your pink muscle, “Such a fucking cockslut f’me. Just a toy for me to fuck when I want, isn’t that right?”

You were about to respond, hazy in lust, but he slid his cock inside your mouth before rocking his hips. His hand made a makeshift ponytail with your hair, his chest sinking and rising quickly as he used your wet, warm mouth to get himself off, “God—so fucking tight. Feels so good—s-shit.”

His salty and tangy taste coated your tongue, thick shaft filling your throat as you gagged around it. Your eyes burned as they watered, making him snicker.

Your other hand began to pump his length, thinking he wanted to cum, but he pulled out with a pop—before bending down onto his knees and shooting his hand to your throat. Your eyes bulged as he guided you back to your feet, a furious look covering his features as his nostrils flared.

“Did I say you could do that, you fucking whore?” He spat in your face, and when you shook your head, his eyes turned darker, “Use your words.”

“No,” you whimpered, “No, daddy.”

He huffed, before ripping off your panties, hearing them tear as you cringed at the sound. This was so fucking hot. He rubbed his cock against your throbbing clit, looking into your eyes as he released his joke from your throat, “You want Daddy to fuck you, Y/N?”

You nodded, eyes brimmed with tears, as you almost sobbed, “Yes—please. I need Daddy’s cock in me!”

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his head sinking into your awaiting pussy, a long moan falling from your lips as you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting yourself up and down as he fucked you at a harsh pace, “That’s right. Bounce on Daddy’s cock and make yourself cum.”

His manager banged on the door, “Dominic—you’re on in ten! Open up.”

He slapped a hand over your mouth, muffling your cries, as he tried his best to keep an even voice.

“I’ll be there, I’m busy right now.”

You heard her sigh, “Doing what?”

Panic filled your eyes, worried that she was going to hear you cum, or walk in on the two of you—but your boyfriend didn’t seem to really care, continuing his thrusts as he fucked into you, eyes glued to your worried ones.

“For fucks sake,” he shouted, rolling his eyes before delivering a harsh thrust, “I’m fucking busy. I’ll be there in a second.”

“Whatever.”

The sound of footsteps receded.

Your bottom lip quivered as his big cock kept poking at your cervix, arms wrapping around his neck as his pace was relentless. Your tits jiggled as he didn’t even bother to take off his hoodie, his scent flying up your nose, as you let out scream after scream as he took you against the wall.

“I’m gonna cum,” you wailed, head tipping back against the wall, “Daddy, I’m gonna—“

His hand returned to your throat, blocking your airways, “You gonna cum? Can you cum without breathing?” He taunted, making your brows furrow, before he pinched two fingers over your nostrils. Your eyes doubled in size as he chuckled wickedly, his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit, “Go ahead. Let’s see.”

You gasped as the lack of oxygen began to turn painful, which set you over the edge, clawing at his back as you tried to escape his grasp. The hot heat that overtook you was so fucking strong, you couldn’t handle it, not being able to breathe as you came hard.

He finally let go, which heightened your orgasm, leading you to black out from the intensity of it. The last thing you remembered was his thrusts stuttering, probably about to cum, and then everything faded.

Eyes jolting open, you woke up to Dom fully dressed again, towering over your slumped figure on the couch. His eyes were wide with worry, hand rubbing your cheek, as his face was significantly paler than usual.

“I went too far,” he apologized, his voice cracking, “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. You passed out because I choked you—“

Your brows furrowed, shaking your head, “No I didn’t. It was because it felt—so good,” you muttered, blinking up at him with hooded eyes and a tired smile, “That was the best sex I’ve ever had, Dom.”

His eyes still skeptical, his face flickered, “Are you sure—“

“I promise,” you assured, pulling his face down to kiss his sweet lips, “You can be rough with me. I won’t break, baby.”

He sighed in relief as you pulled away, pecking your forehead, “Whatever you want. As long as you’re comfortable,” he mumbled, “I gotta go. See you after?”

You nodded, “I’ll be here.”

Sitting on your chair, you were live on Instagram from Dom’s phone, since he had asked you to entertain his followers while he went to retrieve something. Reading the comments with a small smile, you thanked some which called you pretty, while others were asking if Dom was going to be releasing anymore albums this year.

But when you spotted your boyfriend under the desk, not noticing he was there when you first came to sit, a scream left your lips as he poked his curls between your thighs, “Holy shit!”

He chuckled quietly, holding a finger to his lips, before spreading them. You watched with furrowed brows before eyes rounding, him pulling aside your panties, feeling his warm muscle lick a stripe up your slit while looking up at you with those puppy dog eyes of his.

There was no way he was doing this right now. What the fuck.

Looking up at the comments, you tried to appear non-chalant, apologizing for your outburst and saying there was a random bug that had flown in from the window.

Biting down on your finger, sniffling a moan, your eyes squinted from pleasure; pretending to read the comments as your boyfriend fucked you with his tongue below the desk.

He shoved two fingers inside your pussy, before pumping them in and out quickly, wrapping his thick lips around your pulsating clit and sucking harshly. You worried they could hear him slurping crudely, hold jolting, as you tried your best to remain stone faced, “I do love dogs, actually. More—More than dog—cats.”

You felt your boyfriend snicker against your clit at the mistake, which vibrated against your core, making you shiver as the pleasure began to take over your mind. Your fingers tugged at his strands, trying to lift him away from you, but his mouth stuck to your pussy like glue as he tried to pull an orgasm from you.

Beginning to panic, feeling yourself teeter over the edge, your hands flew to the phone that was propped against a candle, “One sec guys, I’m gonna change,” you announced before muting yourself, and turning off the camera, and fell back onto the chair. Your feet planted onto his shoulders as your eyes crossed, “Fuck fuck fuck—I’m cumming!”

He hummed, as your pussy squirted into his mouth, your high washing over you. You threw your head back as you rolled your hips onto him, before slowly coming back down, watching as he wiped his mouth before standing up onto his feet once again.

You panted, looking up at him, “What has gotten into you, Dom? You’re doing all this risky, crazy shit.”

He smirked, sparkles dancing in his eyes, as he snickered.

“You know that blog you had?”

Your face dropped, realization hitting you. He was recreating the fics you wrote.

Laughing at the mortified look on your face, he threw his head back, “Thought you’d never catch on.”

Well—you weren’t expecting that.

taglist ☻ @visiondaddy @vintagebitc @withlovealwaysxx @ncllywrites @din0-plan3 @alinycarey @spencerreidsm0mmy @demiesexual @sublimecatgalaxy @ruesrealwife @alascaxq @elliotsslut @icedcold @theliterarybeldam @write-from-the-heart @spliffprincess69 @janieisamarauder @glizzymcguirex @loversjoy

uhmm not to add to ur torture but art does this after patrick finishes inside of u

https://x.com/yul_erotica/status/1567267102502912001?s=46&t=7TmegSCVL2oWlJID6RaplQ

sorry if this is too gross bye ily

this is not too gross at all. link (twt porn link, MDNI 18+)

i absolutely agree w u. i think that with art, it takes him a second to warm up to the idea of cleaning you up like this, but once he does, he's all in. however, this rlly speaks to me as patrick cleaning you up after art cums in you.

patrick is nastier, less restrained with his displays of desire. you and art have both called him gross with the biggest smiles on your faces, so he's leaned into it by now. that's who he is, the Gross One. he takes on the characteristic whenever he gently nudges art out from between your legs while he's trying to calm down. you're in the same boat as art, eyes focused on the ceiling and blinking slowly. and then you feel him, his presence and warmth between your legs.

"patrick," you warn, not even looking at him as you shake your head. patrick just protests in a whisper.

"'m just gonna help you out. clean you up a little, okay?" and then his head is between your legs and he's absolutely brutal with it. he adds to your stimulation instead of takes away from it.

when art has done it in the past, he was gentle. you knew what to expect from art, you knew he would swipe his fingers through the leaking cum and bring it to his lips. he would work his tongue in wide, long stripes, maximized space to minimize the time.

but when patrick does it, it's like he's giving you head. after a minute or so, when you get that wanton feeling low in your gut, you figure he is giving you head.

Goth CC Finds + Links ☠

So since the new goth kit is coming out, there is a lot of controversy surrounding it. Many people saying its not enough, not the correct style, or they simply cant afford it. Today I present you with an alternative! Shining a light on the CC community, I have for you 30 links to different packs, clothes, hair, accessories, and makeup revolving around the goth style.

Please enjoy these finds & keep in mind that the Goth style is very broad & has many types of styles to it, as this is my own interpretation. ~ DelSolSasha

from left to right

✩| 1 2 3 4 5 6 |✩

✩| 7 8 9 10 11 12 |✩

✩| 13 14 15 16 17 18 |✩

✩| 19 20 21 22 23 24 |✩

✩| 25 26 27 28 29 30 |✩

Also, don't forget to check these cc creator's full websites & patreons because there is sooooo many great goth finds on their pages!

Thank you to the wonderful cc creators who are beyond talented | @bluecravingcc | @evellsims | @bloodmooncc | @sixamcc | @madlensims | @simcelebrity00 | @daylifesims | @aharris00britney | @aladdin-the-simmer | @pralinesims | @trillyke | @/reginaraven | @uxji | @luumia | @/tomichan | @busra-tr | @atomiclight | @lonelygravescc | @/YNRTG-S | @pinkycustomworld | @remussirion | @/seleng |

First Steps

Pairing: Elliot x Reader

Word Count: 429

Warnings: Sexual Undertones and Discussions of Last Night's Activities,

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you enjoy this fic. I definitely see Elliot as the type to push someone's buttons, but in a cute way like in this.

Love you darlings, xx Lilac.

Our night's previous events definitely weren’t already forgotten. Elliot and I had spent the evening playing truth or dare and smoking a shit ton of weed. Eventually, we started making out and the last thing I remember was him nudging my thighs open and breathy moans leaving the both of us.

He was definitely a little higher than me but he still made me feel so good. Who knew?

The morning after was when I could finally feel my legs again. I thought for a second about how I could get up without waking Elliot. But as I tried to walk over to the bathroom, the sore feeling became all too apparent and he was already up.

“I fucked you that good?” Elliot chuckled, laughing as he watched me try to walk over to the bathroom.

“I can’t fucking walk, Elly,” I groaned, heading back to the warm sheets as I accepted the ache in my core.

He just played with my hair as I watched the grin on his face get even bigger.

“It’s not funny,” I groaned, as I heard him soon explode into laughter, trying to form words as to what was so funny.

“It’s just that you looked like you were just learning to walk back there,” he said, as he continued to giggle.

“You know what, Elliot? Karma’s a bitch,” I deadpanned as I smacked his chest.

“Hey! You know you liked it so much, that’s why you can’t walk right now,” he said, continuing to giggle at my unamused face,

“You know what, Elliot? I can walk,” I said, getting out of bed to walk over to the bathroom.

“Okay, go on then, princess,” he said as he propped himself watching me walk as I tried so hard to prove it to him.

“You know what, fine. You win,” I said, giving up after five steps.

“Nah, you win. Come back here so I can make you feel even better.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, watching the way he licked his lips, “what do you have in mind, Elly?”

“I know how much you love it when I go down on you, let’s give your pussy a bit of a break.”

I laughed at his dirty word and the continuing ache between my legs.

“You’re gonna have to come and pick me up then,” I grinned as I watched him come and pick me into his arms as he laid me back on the bed.

“Ready for my fun?”

“Yes,” I grinned, reaching for his blonde curls as his head lowered down between my thighs.

Cuddle Bug

summary: a flashfic exploration of Wally's inability to be anything but a plural image when you're within reach. aka: he's codependent as fuck and neither you nor he care.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: fluff. smut lite. AU - everyone is alive (zesty).

bon reading, frens

___________________________🍃

Wally Clark's love language is physical touch. No surprise there. The guy needs cuddles like flowers need sunlight to thrive. Always has. Being a ghost for 40 years exacerbated that need, and now that he's a real boy again, he can't help himself. Wally sits too close, hugs hello and goodbye, touches arms and knees when he's telling a story.

It's just that much more amped up when it comes to you.

He was affectionate before you and he became inseparable. Lightly grazed your hand when he walked beside you, found every excuse to tackle you when he tried to teach you football techniques. Ajay and Charley stood there like extra wheels even though it'd been Wally who'd rallied everyone to the field.

What? Your giggle's so damn cute! No way was Wally going to be able to focus on anything else!

Besides Charley's just as bad when Yuri's around, and Simon can't even function when Maddie gives him the eyes. So, everyone can suck it as far as Wally's concerned.

During group activities, Wally would find a way to sit next to you. Would squish his long limbs between you and Maddie and give you a bright, boyish grin. Sometimes he'd stare Xavier down until he got the hint and scooched closer to Nicole at the lunch table, leaving a gap that Wally could settle into beside you. His arm around your shoulders and his knee touching yours. Totally innocent.

Wally brought your favorite snacks to Game Night, established himself as your personal chauffeur despite the fact that you lived closer to Simon and Rhonda, and loyally helped you filter clothes when you and the girls went shopping. Yes. He'd made himself one of the girls just to spend time with you. Don't look at him like that; it worked, didn't it? 👀

Since accepting him as your boyfriend (he grins so big, his cheeks ache), Wally's dependence on your touch, warmth, shape against his, has increased a hundredfold.

You sit on the picnic table before the first bell, chatting to Maddie and Claire about something Wally isn't listening to, his arms around your waist, upper body slumped between your legs, head resting on your thigh as you rake your fingers through his thick hair. Oh, he could die all over again and be the happiest of ghosts just for this. Not that he wants to be a ghost again. Not unless you're with him this time. Which would require you to die, too, and that's a terrible thought and he's never going to tell you about it. But the sentiment remains. Wally doesn't want to do anything without you, ever.

He managed to convince the secretary to put him in all your classes, pouting and pleading his case that he'd been dead since 1983 and, "it's so traumatic coming back, she's the only thing I have that feels real...please?" A tactic that he should stop abusing, but it worked on all the teachers when he requested to be sat next to you. Every time a teacher caved, Wally would fold into the desk beside you, beaming like a winner. And who cares? Mina and Ajay, and Charley and Yuri pulled the same doe-eyed trick and got what they wanted, why couldn't Wally do the same?

On Fridays, everyone piles into Wally's high school best friend's living room—Rodney now Wally's legal guardian for reasons—to have movie marathons. There's trivia to guess the movie. Winner gets one veto and can insert their own choice, but there's three movies in total so pick wisely! They figured out awhile ago that Wally sometimes (always) lets you win trivia when it's his turn to play his lineup. You never veto anything, equally as eager to watch what he opts for. It drives Simon and Ajay insane.

He takes over a whole couch, the three-seater, sprawls long-ways and tucks you between his legs, your body draped over him like a blanket as he wraps his arms around you and doesn't let go for anything. He traces patterns on your back, cradles your head against his chest, soaks up the physical contact like a sponge after years of ghostly numbness.

In the school halls, Wally keeps his hand on your hip. He kisses your head and cheeks and jaw. Doesn't care who sees because you're his girl and he'll do what he wants, thank you. He's proud that you call him yours and wants to show off who his heart belongs to. This one! This one said yes!

You're in his lap more than your own seat when the group descends upon Max's Diner after football games (that, no, Wally doesn't participate in. That era is firmly in the past and he'll never don a jersey again; sorry mom, God bless, rest in peace). His hands are all over you as you engage Rhonda in conversation; on your thighs, waist, back, hips. Anywhere and everywhere that's still appropriate in public. His head under your chin, eyes closed as he listens to your heartbeat, strong and steady, the rhythm matching his.

Wally rolls over in his bed, crushes you beneath his weight as he plays dead—knock on wood that that won't happen again for many years—and tries to stifle his laughter when you struggle to reverse the position. Eventually, he showers your skin with kisses, nudges between your thighs and laces his fingers with yours, pressing his smile to yours before kissing you deeply.

The sex is amazing, but nothing beats the afterglow when he has you pliant and sweet, curled into him on your side, your face in his chest, his hand on your lower back, whispering how much he loves you as you doze. Call him codependent, but Wally doesn't want to spend even an hour without you. He isn't a lost puppy, knows how to behave like a man. He just spent too many years being forgotten that he still has trust issues.

And you don't mind. You welcome it, in fact, and that makes Wally feel safer than he ever has. It makes it easy to ignore the looks people give you and him when you agree to go somewhere, "only if Wally's invited, too" because you and he are a package deal. And he does the same for you. Obviously, not for the same reasons, you're perfectly fine being alone, it's just that Wally's not ready to experiment with your absence just yet. Maybe never will be.

Rodney's long since accepted that Wally's room has become your room. From married and childless to married with several formerly-dead teenagers and their SOs, Rodney and his wife have accepted their homebase status like champs. They treat you like family—you have a house key for the rare occasion Wally isn't with you after school—and acknowledge that Wally can't sleep without you without suffering.

He stays curled around you all night, kisses you awake, big hand trailing from your waist to your hip as he nips the top knot of your spine and grinds his morning wood against your ass. God, you get him hard so easily, Wally sometimes thinks he should get checked out. You hum then sigh then turn in his arms, hook a leg over his and press yourself against him in exactly the right way.

Through half-lidded eyes, Wally gazes at you. Licks his lips as he rocks his hips slowly and watches your expression go from sleepsoft to wanting. You like how that feels baby? You want it inside you? And he kisses you deep and thorough, rolls you onto your back to fit between your legs, groans when one of your hands squeezes his ass through his boxer-briefs.

He needs to be inside you yesterday, loves how you feel, tight and wet and hot around him. Soft touches turn hard, light sweeps of lips turn to teeth and tongue and fresh bruises on your neck. Wally loves to taste you first, to prolong his pleasure by giving you yours, his tongue delving into you and sucking your clit gently; deliriously slow because he can't get enough.

It's not until you're begging him so pretty for his cock that he finally lets himself fuck into you, so hard and sensitive his brain explodes upon fitting deep inside you on the first thrust. A refrain of fuck, yes and oh God baby, you feel so good fills the room—sorry Rodney—the headboard smacking against the wall in time with Wally's hips. Throughout, Wally holds you like something precious, kisses you like salvation, breathes you in like he can't live without you.

He makes sure you come first before he even thinks about letting go, the sensation of you shaking apart around him ripping his own release right from his core. Wally licks into your mouth, moans like a beast, and then, one two three more stunted thrusts and he goes still. Hazy eyes hold yours and you can see the depth of his emotion for you. At least, he hopes so. How he'll treasure you forever. He'll never love anyone as much as he loves you. That's a promise and a threat and he smiles a lazy smile at you as you begin to giggle.

"What's so funny, baby?" Wally nudges your cheek with his nose.

"Nothing, I promise, I'm just...really happy." You tell him and he moans in delight.

"You don't feel suffocated or claustrophobic like Rhonda said you would?" Wally asks, a little insecure. Okay, a lot insecure, even if he doesn't usually feel that way about how reliant he is on your proximity. You've never given him a reason to feel anything but safe and happy and loved, but still. Rhonda knows how to hit bone even when she means well.

You shift, forcing Wally to look at you, your hands cradling his jaw, "Never. I will never, ever want this, us, to be anything but exactly how it is. I love having you all over me."

"Yeah?"

"Yes." And you grin, a warm little thing, "I like sharing everything with you. It's nice. My very own witness to my life."

Wally kisses you again, another slow, deep, sentimental gesture; everything he feels poured into it, before he settles down on top of you, careful not to crush you, his head above your breasts and his eyes fluttering closed. Relaxed. Sated. Safe.

Wally Clark's love language is physical touch, and, in this second chance at life, he's profoundly grateful to have found someone fluent in it.

fin.

🍃___________________________

also on AO3!

if you liked this, you may also enjoy Fifty Seven.

fluff. between 1982 and 1983, Wally meets and falls completely head over heels for a girl who changes everything. his biggest fan, his greatest love. you.

happy Thursday the 20th

ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ; ᴀᴏ‘ɴᴜɴɢ xᴏᴍᴀᴛɪᴋᴀʏᴀ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Summary: You and Ao‘nung are on your way to collect special fruits for an Assembly of the Mitkayina Clan, but things are getting weird and… hot?

Warnings; Fluff, Kissing, sexual …talk? Enemies to Lovers, mentions of death (hate that) lol thats it enjoy

_________________________________________

"Aonung wait." I hissed, kicking some leaves out of the way. Below me the wet grass between my toes. We must have been walking for almost an hour now and the bag in which I was collecting the fruit for the Metkayina assembly almost overflowed. "What's the matter? Can't you keep up?" Ao'nung taunts and swings over a tree trunk closely followed by me, who somehow struggles over it. 

I was sure we'd had enough and all this fuss was just to annoy me. After all, I was allowed to carry the heavy bag, although he always talked about how strong he was. Idiot. With ease he pushed some branches to the side which then almost killed me. I was angry and I wanted to push him off a cliff. After I had overcome the last dangers that Ao'nung had exposed me to, we entered a sandy beach. Almost a bay I would say. The waves hit the rocks and far behind I recognized the spot where our ilus were waiting for us.

"You're kidding me, aren't you? We could have just come here straight away, then we would have saved ourselves the difficult journey." I snapped spitefully. Me and Ao'nung have always had our...differences. In the beginning he was really likeable to me, until he became an absolute ass. After Neteyam's death he dropped this whole macho scam and I was free from him insulting me everyday but I'm still being screwed 24/7 until I can't anymore. Fine, from time to time I'll take revenge and sometimes it's even funny. Still, I can hardly judge Ao'nung at all.

"Don't get so upset, the way is the goal." he laughs and sets off into the bushes to pick whatever I'm allowed to carry anyway in the end. Rolling my eyes, I put the bag down and stretch. A moment later, Ao'nung comes back out of the bushes. He walks over to me at the end of the beach and holds out a pink prickly fruit. I look at them both skeptically and raise an eyebrow.

"Thanks, but I'm poisoning myself." I decline with a grin. But Ao'nung doesn't let go of me, pulls out his knife, cuts off a piece and puts it in his mouth. "Something of poisoned." he whispers, dramatically holding his stomach. I suppress my laughter and just roll my eyes. Again he cuts off a piece and puts it in front of my mouth. "here." I try to reach for it but he pulls his hand away. "I thought you wanted me to try?" I ask. "Yes-but not that you hurt yourself." Only now do I recognize the barbs on the shell. However, he doesn't seem to mind. "bite off."

Somehow I don't really feel comfortable with it, but I bit it off and felt his cold fingers. Juice dripped from my chin, which Ao'nung brushed away with a gentle movement, and then licks his finger. I freeze, barely able to breathe. I was beyond confused, and somehow, …suprised."

" swallow." he breathes softly and raises his eyebrows. My head is a red room full of panic signs that glow brighter than neon lights. "wa-what" I bring out with my mouth full. "I said swallow." I get goosebumps. At no point did I think that Ao'nung's words could provoke a reaction of this kind, but I press my legs together and swallow the sweet fruit. Ao'nung eyes wander up and down my body, knowing what that just was. Funny, I would also like to know that. I swallow again.

"Do not look at me like that." I command him. "How am I looking at you?" smiling, he takes a step towards me, his eyes look deep into mine. "N- well the way you're looking at me. Stop that." "I can not." he blurts out.

Fuck. I think to myself, undecided whether I should just kiss him or run away. Then being confused because of my own thoughts. Ao'nung was all flirtation... just not usually with me. "You know, then just turn around or-" I keep getting quiet until my air to breathe is replaced by Ao'nung's lips. While I still hold my hands in the air in surprise, Ao'nung throws away the knife in his hand and grabs my waist. I reflexively wrap my hands around his neck.

The moment he lays me down on the sand, I forget all my principles and pull him down to me. I feel the cold sand beneath me, Ao'nung hands in my hair. I pull away from him, breathing heavily.

He just grins, with those cute dimples and his perfect eyes. "okay that was… quick." I gasp, trying to cover my nervousness with a laugh that only makes it more obvious. "fast?" he asks, looking at the air thinking. "Well, this is the first time you've let me get closer than a foot without hitting me, you're actually pretty slow today." embarrassed, I put my hand in front of my face. His confident flirting makes me more than nervous. "Don't talk such nonsense, there were at least a two." He licks his lips and presses another kiss on my lips. "You could hit me right now and I'd still want you, not gonna lie."I clench my teeth tightly and still roll my eyes in shock at what just happened.

———————————-

Send in what you want me to write:)

TAKE YOUR PICK.

wednesday addams x fem!vampire!reader

summary: a werewolf attack leaves you in need of aid, though you find yourself aided in more than just your wounds.

warnings: smut (18+) — slight oral (r receiving), fingering, strap-on referred to as “cock” at one point, slight face-slapping, teasing, dirty talk, virgin!r, withheld orgasm. -> mentions of blood, wounds, werewolf attack, medical equipment, mentions of kidnapping, scarring, and dom!w + sub!r.

word amount: 6900+

a/n: yes you read that right, 6900+ words. i guess i beat you, didn’t i, my ⭐️ anon 😉.

“Our successor greets us with torture by this grouping.” Her words were dull, and as you turned to face her, you were met with her eyes boring into yours. You cocked your head to the side, easily bypassing a tree that would’ve hit anyone else. Your instincts were stressed by your venture into the woods with the murderous woman you labeled your enemy accompanying you.

Your skin itched. Badly. Though you would rather burn in the flames she created than take action for relief, you never dared to let the shorter girl win at her former pleas to have her partner switch, labeling it as having to not deal with your pollen allergy, but everyone knew of your rivalry.

It was no secret after all. You couldn’t count the number of times she tried to assist in your early death, ranging from simple pop-up attacks that your raging instincts guided you with to kidnapping you into the Nightshades library and torturing you—or more so, trying her best to—while reading latin incantations from a book that still scarred your mind to this day.

“You don’t have to tell me.” With your head shifted into it’s former state, staring straight ahead, you expected Wednesday to mirror your action. She hadn’t.

Your eyes darted all around the forest, searching for insects, animals, humans, or anything of the above that would pose a potential life-threat. Unlike Wednesday, you allowed yourself to feel fear because you actually cared for your life.  

You and Wednesday were similar, which was the root of your rivalry. She eyed you as a copycat, but you had always been who you were since the day you were born, and nobody could ever change you. You thrived in academics and sports, taking part in three education-related after school clubs as well as fencing, track, and a modernized human sport known as “soccer” to Americans during the summer.

You easily got more praise for your contribution to the school’s image, while Wednesday held the slimy silver medal praising her for being in second place, and her mind raged at the remembrance of it every time. She wanted to be number one above all else, but she could never bypass you. Hell, you even bypassed Bianca Barclay, forming a small rivalry with her when you first arrived at the academy.

“Would you like me to send you a photographed Polaroid of myself with my signature on it, or shall you continue to stare at me and soon trip over a rock?” Wednesday’s eyes furrowed at the end of the sentence, unable to hold back a yelp when she inevitably did fall over a grounded rock and faceplant on the floor.

You halted your movement, turning your head to the side to catch a glimpse of Wednesday rolling herself on her back, a hand over her knee from a wound forming due to her ignorant choice to wear shorts. “We have thirty minutes remaining to collect all we need for our botanical project. I’d suggest you get off the floor.” 

Before she could even comprehend what you said, she found herself looking up into your eyes as you towered over her. Once more, you cocked your head to the side, allowing a sly grin to form on your face at the sight of blood dousing her hand from the open wound. “And you tell me I’m the clumsy one?”

“You are.” She shot back immediately, her eyes narrowing at your facial expression of humor. You found humor in her; you always have. It was a key part of your romantic attraction to her, though that aspect had always been locked away as a secret, and your humor lied in her inability to keep up with you.

Whether Wednesday wanted to admit it or not, she had found her challenger. Someone who was undeniably better than her, someone who forced her to work harder to be the one at the top, though she knew secretly she’d always be trapped in second place.

You were better than her, and it annoyed her more than anything in the world. That’s why the discovery of her own attraction toward you scared her—the girl who dared not feel emotion. She blamed it on your well-behaved confidence and that stupid grin you flashed her from day to day. 

A grin she wanted to kiss off, she thought once, and she contemplated throwing herself off the balcony in her dorm room when she allowed that sentence to linger in her mind.

You laughed genuinely, your grin growing wider at the sight of Wednesday stumbling to get up, her face crinkling only so slightly at the pain that coursed through the entirety of her leg.

“You’re unfit.” A huff came from her, head flicking up to meet your gaze, eyes lingering on your standstill grin—your pink-lipped mouth—for a second deemed too long before she lunged forward and pushed you aside.

The force of her thrust caused you to stumble back and fall on a pile of leaves, blowing and coughing out a crisp leaf that found it’s home inside your mouth. At the force of her thrust toward you, Wednesday found herself collapsed once more on the floor, her body not correctly stabilized from her injury.

“So, not only are you clumsy, but you’re also an idiot.” You sat yourself upright, hands laid down on the floor behind your body to stabilize yourself, all the while watching the conflict in Wednesday’s eyes over whether she should shoot back or keep quiet.

She kept quiet, eliciting a small, almost unnoticeable groan that Wednesday herself didn’t catch at first. You heard it, though, your grin finding it’s way back onto your face as you practically jumped up, brushing yourself off with a flick of your wrists to your neutral- colored clothing.

You furrowed your eyebrows to see Wednesday still sprawled on the floor, expecting her to have risen up by now, even if a limp tagged along. “The big, challenging girl who fought off the reincarnation of Joseph Crackstone years ago can’t get up because of a wound on her knee.”

You spoke in disbelief, and Wednesday turned her head over to you with might. “Don’t you ever mock my accomplishments.”

“Well, we can’t even accomplish the task of finishing our botanical sciences project if you don’t take your small ass up and off the floor.” You bit back.

Fumed with rage and annoyance due to her growing short temper, Wednesday lunged up at you with all the strength she had in her body. The next second, you found your hands wrapped around her waist as you held her upright from falling again, the girl collapsing into your embrace with a snake-like hiss emitting from her.

Another groan came from her, not even bothering to hide it this time, too preoccupied with the futile stinging of her wound and the warming position she found herself in with you. “Alright, back on the floor.”

Her back met the homing place that was the floor once more, shooting daggers at your inexistent attempt to lay her down carefully, seeing as you dropped her onto the floor without care. Her hand found it’s way back to her knee, coating the skin in blood once more, and you sighed. “Move your hand.”

“No.”

“Since when did you become so stubborn?” She raised her eyebrows at you. “Actually, that’s a dumb question, but I’m not going to ask you again. Addams,” your tone became firm, seriousness rising up amidst your former face of humor, “move your hand.”

Her teeth clenched, jawline protruding out, and her eyes were in their usual wide state, as if she were thinking, but her mind was blank. You found impatience creeping up on you, not daring to alert your eyes to her dark red, bloodied hand from her gushing wound.

With a twitch of your eye, your hand shot forward and clamped on Wednesday’s wrist, pulling it away from her wound with force, and she let out a small whimper that she immediately tried to cover with a cough. Your eyes darted up at her for only a second, having heard it, before looking back down at her wound, which was open and wide.

“I will take you to the Infirmary, and then come back and collect all we need for our project.” You said your plan out loud, your eyes darting back and forth between Wednesday’s open wound and the pathway from which you and the girl had just come. “I am fine. Besides, you would only get all the wrong things we need, seeing as how foolish you are.”

“Foolish is what you claim me to be, yet you’re the one consistently in second place.” Without warning, you sank an arm under her bent knees and another under her back, picking her up in bridal style, to which her eyes drastically widened. You felt her tense under you, muscles contracting, and you groaned. 

“Oh, relax. Being tense will only cause your wound to bleed more, and before I know it, I’ll be carrying your dead weight.”

“Put me down this instant.” Wednesday fought, trying to wiggle herself out of your grasp as you started to walk back to the school grounds, leaving your grip on her to tighten. “No. And don’t presume that I care about your wellbeing either, because I don’t.”

She huffed, her leg jerking up when a low branch made contact with her wound. “Then why not allow me to continue with you?”

“If you haven’t noticed, we’re past the forest barriers that Nevermore set.” When she turned her head in response to your signal to the right, she noticed the wooden line fences that were more intended to serve as a signal for students to turn around than as a means of keeping them out.

“Throats get slit in this neck of the woods,” you continued, mindlessly drifting your eyes all over the forest in caution of any inhumane species. “I’d rather not have a Jason Voorhees copycat lunatic trying to slaughter us, and I can’t go far because you’re disabled.”

“It’d be your own death’s fault for trying to save me.” Her deadpanning words made you want to drop her and let her find her own way back to the academy, but you just let out an annoyed breath while gripping onto her thighs tighter. “Forgive me for actually having a beating heart, Addams.”

“You’re not forgiven, (Y/L/N).”

Soon enough, you found yourself back in the forest, with Wednesday’s presence long gone. You were kneeling down, collecting dirt into a small jar that you had sprayed with pesticides to clear it of any lingering bugs. You hadn’t noticed how the time flew past, the sun fading into the moon, and you took a moment to enjoy the stars, hands settled on your dirt-covered knees.

A sound rang through the forested area, causing you to snap your head in the direction of the noise. It was muffled, but it sounded too closely like the howls of the werewolves you’ve grown to make friends with, and that was enough for you to shoot up instantly from your kneeling position. With a sharp breath, you looked up at the moon, now taking on the shape of a full moon, and you gagged in growing fear.

You’re fine, right? They get locked in the Lupen cages; there’s no way one of them could’ve escaped theirs. Your mind raced for explanations as you crouched down to pick up all that you'd collected, ranging from dirt to plants, before taking steady steps in the direction of the academy.

You took precautionary halts so as not to make major noise, cringing in fear at the sound of a leaf loudly crunching under your foot, and you could hear the howls once more, closer this time. 

You took another five steps before you could hear the thudding stomps of a figure inching closer to you with every second, and you thanked nothing else but your heightened senses as you dropped all of what you held and booked it. 

You dodged tree logs and branches left and right, hands fumbling with your satchel to tear it off your body to release the weight it was holding, and your body shook at the thudding sounds ringing in your ears, inching closer and closer-

Until you woke up, spread out on the floor, and your hands dug around the surface of the floor to help you realize that you were still in the woods. Your body still shook, this time more violently as you gasped in pain, stings shooting all over your body and causing your muscles to tighten.

“Fuck!” You groaned out, clenching your stomach where it hurt the most to feel a liquid coating your skin of the same texture that dripped your hands with Wednesday’s blood hours earlier. Your eyes drooped, sullenly coming to the firm realization that you were bleeding out with a liquid you could not even view properly, the night still too dark.

You blamed it all on a werewolf not properly being contained, but if that was the case, why didn’t they kill you instead of merely injuring you? The thought of the beast not being a werewolf flooded out of your mind quicker than it came in. You could see the outline of large claw slits scarring the skin of your stomach, and you yelled out the most mind-scarring shriek as you forced yourself up.

You moaned out, “Oh,” in pain as you sat yourself on a log, scanning the dark forest for any signs of life, human or not, to which there were none, and you sighed in relief. You took off your jacket first before peeling the shredded, blood-stained white shirt off your body, leaving you with just your bra and an exposed, large wound.

Your eyes closed in despair, feeling the pain dull ever so slightly in your relaxing state. You bent over, to your body’s anguish, to grab your bag with a small first aid kit tucked into it. All the items within the mini-kit were dunked out on the log space beside you, and you hurriedly grabbed multiple anti-septic wipes and shredded open the packaging before pressing them onto your skin.

Fangs bared, eyes darkening at the severe pain, you dug them into your bottom lip and swished the wipes over your wounds before letting out a loud yell of agony. You threw the wipes to the floor when they were all left coated with a dark red, grabbing the bandage roll, and with all of your muscles tightening at the pressure, wrapping your stomach with the bandage that immediately turned red before sealing it with tape.

The aftermath was almost pleasurable; the pain was still there but lessened due to the lack of blood flowing out of you. Managing to stumble up, you discarded your bag on the floor before taking a step forward, your body hunching over immediately from the inability to stand upright, and you carried on in the form of a hunchback.

What Wednesday least expected on an early Saturday morning, 3:30 a.m. to be exact, was the sound of her doorknob snapping off from the door itself. Her eyes perked up, sensing danger, and she immediately dug under her pillow to grab the knife she stored there, pointing it forward with the sharp tip ready to plunge itself into whoever dared to intrude into her and Enid’s dorm.

She had only been released from the hospital a few hours prior, so it seemed as though her knee pain had subsided, but when she put her foot on the ground, it suddenly returned. She ignored the discomfort and advanced toward the opening door, ready to strike.

“Wed-” You threw the door open, stopping immediately when the tip of her knife bore into your throat, one step away from slicing into your carotid artery. Even in the harsh darkness, Wednesday could see the fear and agony in your eyes, the way you were breathing heavily and clutching your stomach, and the skin that your bloodied jacket had now covered.

In the dim light of her bedside lamp, she could see your black jacket with a huge damp spot covering it, clamped over by bloodied hands. Her eyes met yours, and you gulped. “I didn’t know who else to come to.”

Wordlessly, she stepped to the side, inviting you in, which you limped into, and she closed the door. Her hand met your shoulder, an odd warmth coating your body despite her cold figure, and she aided you to the bathroom, choosing to disregard the blood trail you were leaving behind.

A sigh left your mouth as you collapsed on the closed-lidded toilet, leaning all your weight on the material. Wednesday pulled out a medical kit from under the sink, one much bigger than the one you had previously used, and slammed it on the countertop. “So much for not trying to wake up Enid.”

“Do you want me to help you or not? Beside, if you even took a second glance around the room, you’d notice Enid is not here, but in a Lupen cage in form.” She spoke in hushed whispers, and you shut up immediately, shrinking under her gaze. You were better than her, yes, but that didn’t mean you didn’t get scared of her from time to time.

“Take off your jacket.” She said simply, still prepping rounds of wipes with anti-septic liquids on them for your bloodied wound, as the wipes you used earlier did not have much of an effect considering the size of them. Wearily, you zipped down your jacket, peeling it off of you with a grunt or two before throwing it away at the base of the bathtub. You laid yourself back, eyes burning into the side of Wednesday’s face, anticipating her moves.

After she had finished prepping the wipes, she grabbed a sewing kit from under the counter, and you gulped at the largely-sized needles that she pulled out along with them. “All I really needed was for you to clean it, Addams. I’m a vampire; I can self-heal.”

“This is merely a precautionary measure to not leave putrid-looking scars.” She placed the items needed beside you, removing her own jacket, and you noticed how she was still in what she considered “casualwear”, seemingly not changing out of her clothes before drifting off to sleep. “Odd coming from the person who has left me with multiple scars, and why didn’t you change?”

“What?”

Wednesday turned, giving you a full visual of her in a button-up shirt and vest, black slacks tucked in and still belted; sleeping couldn’t have been comfortable for her with a belt digging into her hip. “You’re still in your clothes.” You pointed it out, and she looked down at her choice of fashion before letting out a small huff and advancing toward you, taking up position to the right of you.

“I awaited your presence. I told you before that I wanted to get a start on the project so I would not have to do much with class dealing with you and your miserable antics of getting items confused. Not only do you show up empty-handed in the dead of night, but you are also scarred through your inability to defend yourself.”

She badmouthed you, all the while untangling her sewing needles with harsh movements, but you only focused on one aspect of her words. “You fell asleep waiting for me?”

At once, Wednesday halted her movements, giving you a dead look before turning around and grabbing the large anti-septic wipes, swiftly pushing them into your wounded stomach. You let out a long, loud gasp, groaning at the pain and taking hold of Wednesday’s wrist, trying to push her arm back but to no avail. “Don’t get cocky.”

Your head flew back in agony, your hand still clasped around her wrist with a bruising grip. “I wasn’t! I was asking!”

Wednesday glided the wipes along your scars, to your dismay, until there were little to no signs of blood yet, all the while mindlessly running her eyes over the scars on your body that she created.

It was the only way she could get her mind off your exposed torso and how your muscles gallantly flexed from the pain, unwillingly showing themselves off to her.

Your eyes were squinting, still a bit sore from the antiseptics, but when you noticed that Wednesday had not made any other moves, you let them go from your iron grip. Your gaze landed on her stance, lost in thought. “What?”

"I'm in the process of comprehending an attempt to stitch you together while you remain seated, while I, on the other hand, am standing." Her eyes glanced all around the bathroom, sighing contently as she tried to determine a possible way to play surgeon in a comfortable manner.

“Well, I’m not lying on the floor. Your bed?” You inquired, and Wednesday shook her head, her mind discarded by that thought. “I would like to go to sleep tonight in a bloodless bed.”

“Um,” you gulped. The first real situation droning through your head was one anybody wouldn’t dare share with Wednesday. It's a good thing you weren’t like anybody else. “Sit on me.”

Her head snapped to meet your eyes, yours innocently boring into hers, and she squinted. “What?”

“Sit on my lap. When I lean back, you’ll be able to stitch me up or... whatever it is that you plan on doing without breaking your spine.”

You could see the conflict in her eyes, and she took it into consideration, to your surprise. With a pinch to the bridge of her nose and a long, elated sigh, as a means of balance, she placed her hands on each of your shoulders before swinging her left leg over your body and sitting down on your firmly closed legs. 

“Tell nobody about this, or more of these scars,” she said, pinching down on a drawn out scar that sat just right under your bra, “will litter your skin.” You gave her a hasty nod, eager to put your mind elsewhere while your sworn enemy found a seat on your lap.

Without a word of warning, she dug the needle into your skin, causing you to let out an embarrassingly loud yelp of pain. Your hands flew to her shoulders as a matter of instinct, and you half-expected her to shrug them off, but she prioritized her sewing techniques instead.

The further she got into sewing the deep claw marks, the tighter your hands gripped her shoulders. You’d be surprised if Wednesday woke up bruise-free, as you could almost feel your knuckles turning white.

Wednesday found... amusement? The way your eyes closed at her stinging touch, the way your hands buried themselves into her shoulders, and how your thigh muscles tightened under her ass with every swift movement. She loved seeing you defenseless and submissive to her more than anything, finding profit in the means of mocking you later on if you tried to boast about your betterness.

When she had finally finished her stitching, she found herself still lingering on your lap, her movements awfully slow, even for her, to grab a couple large medical bandages and place them over her work. 

“Stay here.” Her voice was low while she slid off your lap, turning to leave the bathroom before returning a minute later with a baggy jacket in her hands. Your eyebrows furrowed as she laid the fabric on your lap, turning to wash her hands of any remaining blood.

You had a little trouble donning the jacket, which was made of Wednesday's fashion choice's baggy material but looked a little more fitted on you because of your lean frame. Your wounds, formerly the only thing clouding your mind, were long gone. You focused on the seriousness of your enemy’s actions, and the oddly warm jacket filled with her natural scent that was now clinging to your body.

“Why?”

“What?”

“When I came here, I fully expected you to push me away.” You leaned your body up on the toilet, hands running through your disheveled hair, and Wednesday directed her attention toward you. “But you didn’t, for some odd reason, and actually helped me—hell, you even sat on me—when you’ve been nothing but the cause of my terror ever since I’ve arrived at this academy.”

It was all nothing but the truth. Two years have passed since you made your flaunting arrival at Nevermore, head held high with nothing else on your mind other than the determination to be the best student the academy had ever seen, and so you accomplished it. Two years had passed since you crossed paths with the deadly Wednesday Addams, her mind still fresh from her praiseful battle with the former overtaker of Jericho.

Two years passed since you beat Wednesday’s boat in the Poe Cup; the Black Cats determined to win their second trophy in a row, and she swore you as her enemy that day when her eyes laid upon your smirking frame with the golden cup in your hand, sending her a wink of confidence that she mentally fumed at.

Two years had passed since Wednesday Addams made the dreadful discovery that, after all, her black, unbeating heart could feel love but that her taste was awful if she found herself attracted to her enemy. Now she found herself in the middle of her last year at Nevermore, freshly 19, and still rummaging in a cat-dog chase game with you.

Two years had passed since she found herself focused on nothing but her enemy, who was in front of her now, sitting on the toilet seat in her bathroom, all patched up, and looking at her with curiosity. “Are you going to continue to stare at me or answer my question?”

“I’m not required to reply to any of your inquiries.” Swiftly, she made her exit out of the bathroom, leaving you to stumble up on your feet and follow behind her like a lost pup. Your body felt awfully tired, though your mind was wide awake and racing with multiple thoughts at once, overloading and ready to explode any second.

“Add-”

“I’ve patched you up,” She moved to close the door to her closet, and in a rut of refusal to make eye contact with you, solemnly afraid that she’d instantly jump your bones- what? “So you may leave now.”

“I’m not leaving until you’ll answer my ‘inquiry’ on why you were nice, at least in my books, to me. You’re avoiding the question.”

You could see the clench in Wednesday’s jaw as she made her way over to her desk, tidying up the workplace in an attempt to distract herself from the conversation that lingered. “I’m unsure as to what you’re saying.”

“Addams-”

“Leave before I do something I’ll regret, (Y/L/N).” She snapped, finally meeting your gaze with wide eyes, and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Since when have you ever regretted something that included me? Did you not tie me to a tree on a full moon and bait me to the werewolves last year?”

Her eyes closed in annoyance. “That’s not what I mean.” And as she rubbed her face, you could almost feel the mixture of stress and uncertainty in her stance, almost as if she were holding back from something.

“Then what do you mean? I’ve known you for two years, and you’ve never failed to reply to me with a full sentence, whether it’s answering my question or barking out a snarky remark. Tell me what’s changed in tha-”

Your eyes were opening and closing rapidly in stress, causing you to not register Wednesday’s frame hurriedly marking toward you until you felt a body collapse into you and a smooth substance on your lips.

Huh?!

Your eyes shot open and wide. To confirm your suspicions, Wednesday’s arms were thrown over your shoulder while her body leaned into yours, and her lips smashed against yours almost desperately.

That’s what she presumed to regret. 

But it was something you longed for, unbeknownst to her, and you made it known when your hands found their way to her cheeks, pulling her in deeper. You could feel her lips tremble slightly in shock, unprepared for you to be pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.

Wednesday’s legs grew a mind of their own, taking steps forward and causing you to step back until the backs of your knees met her bed, and she tore her lips away from you for a breather. You took the separation as an opportunity to sit yourself down on her bed, all while your eyes never left hers in the process, and the smaller girl hurriedly found her former position on your lap.

“The moon is fading. Enid could come back any minute now.” You spoke between kisses, shivering at Wednesday’s cold touch on your warm skin, her hands slithering underneath the jacket you wore to rub up and down your back. “Then she’ll leave again, because she’s not going to enjoy what she’ll see.”

Your body visibly shivered at her words, or maybe it was just her fingers dancing along your spine, but either way, you found yourself completely engulfed in her and just her. The claw marks, the time, the physical confession—all of it was gone from your mind as Wednesday mindlessly pushed herself even farther into you.

She took a push too close, her body pressing up against your wound, causing you to groan and bite down on her bottom lip, fangs bared from the pain. Your lips never separated, instead pushing farther into them at the feeling and taste of Wednesday’s blood filling your mouths from her punctures, only spurring the two of you further.

“Lay down.” You obeyed immediately, finding nothing more hot in the moment than the husk in the smaller girl's voice, and manuevered from under her plushy thighs on top of you to lay comfortably on her bed. You were engulfed in her natural scent once more—the same scent you had grown accustomed to for over two years now, the scent that followed you everywhere you went.

You adored it, just as you adored her behind your hardening gaze most days.

Her eyes were narrowed, and you would have thought she was tired any other day, but you knew her look was one of need and want. Lust, to put it short, and you wanted nothing more than to fulfill her need, even if it meant submitting yourself to her in a situation you'd never thought you’d willingly put yourself in.

Just as she had earlier, she slid off your lap with a lingering touch on your hips. “Stay here.” 

And as quickly as she left, she returned, though this time with an item in her hand, and you knew exactly what it was. Your eyes widened, and your mouth drew open. Already?

“Yes, already.” Did you say that out loud? “You’d find me pathetic if you knew how long I have deferred using this. To use it on you.” Her eyes were filled with a dark, unmanageable lust that swam through her veins, and you could only imagine the scenarios that swarmed through your head. This wasn’t the Wednesday you knew, but it was one you anticipated figuring out.

“But I can’t just use this on you immediately, no.” A smug grin came across her lips—a sight that you, or really anybody else, rarely ever saw, and it was one you wanted to see more of. “No, I have to prep you, don’t I?”

“Prep me?” You asked, genuine curiosity lacing your voice, and her grin grew wider. “I’ll show you.”

Wednesday positioned herself back on your lap, putting the erotic object on her nightstand, within reach for later use, before pulling you into another kiss. It was bruising, and the kiss was ten times more harsh than before, but you would never complain about her being pressed up against you.

While you found yourself entrapped in her lips, her hands slithered down your body and toward your pants, grabbing the buckle of your belt and undoing it at a steady pace. That’s when it dawned on you—she was going to prep you for an object that withheld some... girth.

Your muscles tensed at the thought, and more so at the feeling of Wednesday pulling down your black jeans with ease, discarding your shoes in the process of leaving your bottom half in just your underwear. “Wednesday…”

She was simple. “Relax.” 

On the down low, she knew that this was your first time engaging with somebody sexually, never failing to notice your soft rejections of the girls and guys that tried to woo you on and failed miserably. It was an aspect she enjoyed even more now, and she wanted nothing more than to rub in the faces of all you rejected that they couldn’t get you to agree to a date, but yet she had you writhing underneath her, moaning her name.

Your breathing grew heavier as the seconds went by, hitching when Wednesday moved your underwear to the side with a slow itch of her hands, and you wanted nothing more than to grab her by the head and bury her in your heat. The lack of restraint you were feeling was lethal and ultimately surprising for a girl who rarely ever even masturbated.

“Such a possessing view.” She murmured in a low tone, her eyes dancing all around your core, and your cheeks flushed at her staring. Her eyes locked with yours, her mind racing at the sight of your eyes narrowed and staring down at her with silent pleads, and those pleads she fulfilled when her tongue darted out to take a swipe at your folds.

You whimpered in a tone around an octave higher than your usual voice, and your eyes widened at the sound that unwillingly left your mouth. It seemed to spur Wednesday on, allowing her to dart her tongue out once more and flick it over your clit, the nub that she wanted nothing more than to swell up with her mouth.

You let out another whimper—louder and needier this time around. “And sensitive. I can put that to use.” She dove her head farther into your heat, her lips wrapping around your clit and taking a harsh suck at the nub. Your thighs shut around her head, eyes never leaving one another, while she feverishly sucked your clit, needing to hear more of the high-pitched whines that left your mouth.

She pulled away soon after, to your dismay that you showed through your pleading whines, to allow a bead of spit to drip out of her mouth and onto your entrance, before taking her finger and rubbing her spit around the area. Your hips instinctively bucked up at the sensation, feeling yourself clench around nothing, and it made Wednesday want to elicit a laugh.

“The way I’m touching you now is a major privilege alone.” Her finger sank into your entrance, and she bit down lightly at the plushness of your thighs when she felt your velvety walls tighten around her. “I adore watching you like this underneath me; you make me want to fuck you braindead.”

She sank her finger into you until her knuckle bared against your heat, curling the bony stature inside of you and eliciting a light moan out of you. You already found yourself on edge from her husky words alone, and the curl of her finger inside of you didn’t help you from almost cumming embarrassingly fast.

“Already close? What a shame; I wanted to have fun toying with you.” Her mouth against her core made you moan from the vibrations, hands flying to grip her head menacingly and push her farther into you, almost crying out for the whole hall to hear when she slipped a second finger into you.

Her fingers picked up pace, thrusting in and out of you with force while the squelching sounds of your slick covering your walls made Wednesday feel a pit of need start to boil in her stomach, one that she desired to fulfill.

The two-on-two action on your core made you clench impossibly tight on Wednesday’s fingers, the ravenhead finding difficulty in her repeated movements. “Want to cum, yeah?”

You nodded profusely, your face growing red from your need for release and the way she released her lips from your clit with a pop. A small grin formed on her face when she pulled out of you, relishing in your whines of despair.

Eyes closed, heavy breathing—you were too blissed out, despite not achieving an orgasm from her underlying teasing, to notice Wednesday sliding off you, strapping the former item in her hand to her core. Her eyes never left your face as she strapped the item on, feeling more than fired up to make you scratch down her back with pitiful whines leaving your mouth.

And so, that’s what she achieved, eyes closing from the burning pains of your nails digging deep into her shoulders down to the middle of her back. Her own mind felt foggy watching the way her silicone became drenched in your arousal, the strap pumping in and out of you with ease, and the way you moaned straight into her ear—god, she regretted never taking your submissive state for profit more early.

Your thighs clenched around her hips when she bottomed into you, settled on her knees, and bent over slightly to curl the strap inside of you, hitting an unfamiliar spongy spot that had you sinfully whining with a hand clenched on Wednesday’s head. “If the entirety of humanity could merely glimpse you in your current state, they would swiftly recognize your rare moment of submissiveness,” her lips dove down, meeting your ear, “all submissive just for me.”

Her movements grew hard, her hands gripping your skin with a bruising force while her hips drove into you with no relent, finding a need for her own release. The so-called “devil” found herself groaning heavy breaths into your ear, all the while slipping a soft moan or two in that she couldn’t hold. The feeling of you finally beneath her, pleading and scratching at her for release, felt ethereal; all of her senses were on cloud nine, and it ignited a burrowed-down spark.

One of Wednesday’s hands removed from your skin, leaving behind darkened marks that would worsen with time to connect with your cheek, the slap making you roll your eyes back at how dirty it felt. “No connected nerves, and I can still feel you pulsating on me; you’re driving me crazy with it.” 

Your moans were muffled at the feeling of the ravenhead’s fingers shoving deep into your mouth, bypassing your uvula, causing a gag to ensue. Your lips wrapped around the digits, absentmindedly biting on them when the pit in your stomach started to burn like wildfire, making you tighten around the raven’s strap and force her to slow her movements, though still managing a speedy pace. 

“Don’t cum.”

The words you wished never left her mouth made you whine around her fingers; your body was too sensitive from your lack of sexual activity and masturbation over the years, making it almost impossible to fight your orgasm off. Her fingers briefly exited your mouth, only to slap your cheek once more before returning to their original location. “Just for a bit.”

The hold-off was tortuous; the muscles in your body tightened incredulously while your mouth pathetically sucked on Wednesday’s fingers in a pathetic attempt to tear your mind away from your orgasm. It didn’t work. 

The overloading, burning sensation in your stomach was almost uncomfortable; the fire burned longer than it intended to while you made putrid eye contact with the roof, Wednesday’s head snug to the side of yours while she drew herself closer to her own orgasm. The words that made  you sigh in relief, your body shaking after seconds of torture, finally came past the girl’s lips, and you adored them.

“Cum for me, la mia dolce metà.”

You obeyed immediately, allowing your muscles to untighten, and Wednesday’s fingers left your mouth, allowing you to spew out a large moan that, without a doubt, woke the entire hall up. Your hands dug into her shoulders, feeling her shudder over you from her own orgasm, though the only thing that left her mouth was heavy pants.

Alas, she pulled out of you after seconds of relishing in one another’s embrace, making you feel empty compared to just minutes ago. The tip of Wednesday’s cock directed to your swollen clit from her previous oral actions, pushing down with enough pressure to make your toes curl and a breathy sigh leave your mouth.

Wednesday had pulled herself up by now, and it was only then that you noticed the girl taking a mental screenshot of your body, more specifically your core and the way your cum leaked out of you at a snail's pace. She licked her lips at the sight, her eyes flickering up to meet yours, and you gulped.

“La mia dolce metà,” she whispered, hands running down your body and to your hips, “I’m not done with you just yet.” The edges of her lips tugged ever so slightly when she dipped her head down to meet your core, leaving you to moan with delight as your hand found it’s way back to her hair.

Thigh Riding

Summary: Wally in his little shorts just does something to you. Leading to you drooling over his thighs. You ask to ride his thigh and he can't deny you especially when you ask so nicely.

Author Note: This gif inspired this entire thing. His slutty little shorts are everything.

NSFW. 18+

Wally Clark knew what he was doing when he said you should have a pool day. You’d found Rhonda and Charlie lounging on the bleachers and Wally was floating around on an inner tube. You walked to the edge of the pool sitting and letting your feet hang in the water. You were so glad you had found some cute sunglasses in the lost and found that hid your gaze.

Your eyes hadn’t left Wally’s thick thighs in his slutty little gym shorts. He looked absolutely delectable. Your mind couldn’t help but wander how nice it would feel to ride them. The thought alone had you wet. Had you somehow gotten hornier in death? Or was it just the himbo jock that brought it out in you?

Wally looked over at you with a smile. “You coming in or are you gonna be boring like those two?” He motioned to Rhonda and Charlie earning a middle finger from Rhonda. You laughed at their interaction and stood up shimmying out of your skirt. Your band tee hitting the floor shortly after.

Wally almost swallowed his tongue at the sight of you in your little black lacy bra and panties. His mouth watered at your plush thighs and his cock twitched at your breast spilling slightly over the top of your bra. He didn’t know what he did in life to deserve this but damn he was happy about it.

You walked down the steps into the pool goosebumps erupting onto your skin. You pulled the claw clip from your hair letting your curls free. You slowly made your way to Wally the pool getting deep enough that you had to tiptoe to him. You rested your hands on his inner tube and let your legs float to the surface behind you. You rested your chin next to Wally’s arm relaxing into the water.

“Where’d you get those shades?” Wally questioned stealing them from your face to examine them. “The lost and found. Where else?” You giggle stealing them back. He hops out of his floaty and into the water offering it to you. You decline so he sets it on the side of the pool. You both just float there for a moment looking at each other until Rhonda clears her throat. You look over at her as she says “Charlie and I are gonna go hang out with Yuri. You guys gonna stay here?” She glances between the two of you and gathers her stuff. “Yea, I’m gonna swim for a bit.” You nod bobbing in the water. Wally nods saying “I’m gonna hang with y/n here.” Rhonda and Charlie nod shooting you goodbye waves as they leave you and Wally.

Wally clears his throat awkwardly and mumbles “I like your suit.” A smirk graces his handsome face as he motions to you. You giggle at him. “I’m sure you do.” You tease wiggling your eyebrows at him. His cheeks heat but he doesn’t look away from you. “Wally are you checking me out?” You whisper fluttering your lashes at him. He floats closer now a few inches from you. “Of course I’m checking you out. Look at you. You are every guys wet dream.” His voice raspier than normal.

A pout graces your lips as you look at him. “Wally?” You ask softly. He lets out a mhm eyes locked on your lips. “Do you wanna go find somewhere a little more cozy?” Your voice lowers seductively. His eyes widen, pupils blown and darker somehow. “Yes, absolutely.” He tries not to sound too giddy but you find it adorable.

You both climb out of the pool. Wally close behind you. He wraps a towel around your shoulders and helps gather your clothes. He grabs your shoes and follows behind you as you tug his hand leading him through the school. You guide him to the theater and down into the under stage area. Once the trap door closes you drop the towel thankful that for once the reset comes in handy. You take your things from Wally and push him down on the couch. You toss your clothes down and move to straddle his hips. His hands immediately settle on your hips as you rest your forehead against his.

“Wally? Can I try something?” You ask softly wetting your lips. Wally lets out a husky laugh before saying “Baby you can do whatever you want to me. You could smack me and I’d thank you.” His hands trace the waistband of your panties a smirk on his face as he lifts his hips pressing his hard cock against you. A small gasp leaves your lips at the pressure of him against you. “I want to ride your thigh. Been thinking about it since the first time I saw you in these shorts.” You whine as you capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You slowly slide off his lap, lips still attached to his. Your lips part as you get on your knees in between his legs. You lean down trailing your lips up his inner thigh. You nip and bite marking up his meaty thighs. He lets out a groan as you run your tongue up his thigh. "I'm getting carried away but fuck you are pretty." You say with a breathy chuckle. He gives you a lazy smirk. "You won't hear me complaining pretty girl" he says as his hand grips his cock through his shorts.

You stand removing your panties before straddling his thigh. His hands grip your hips giving them a reassuring squeeze. You rock your hips gently letting out a whimper as you move. Wally's eyes are locked on your pussy as your wetness covers the top of his thigh. He flexes his thigh making you moan at the friction it applies to your clit. His cock jumps at the cry out chest heaving. "Can I take this off of you?" he asks as his hands grip the cup of your bra. You nod as you rock back and forth. His hands reach around undoing your bra and letting it slide off your body tossing it aside. He leans forward taking your nipple into his mouth flicking it with his tongue and taking it between his teeth. You let out a hiss at the pain mixed with pleasure.

"Baby, I need to be inside of you. Please. I need to feel you wrapped around me." Wally begs you his cock feeling painfully hard in his shorts. You slowly slide off his thigh. "I wanna ride you." you say sliding your hand into the waistband of his shorts pulling them off. "Yeah whatever you want pretty girl." he pants as his cock smacks his stomach. You guide him to lay on the couch and straddle his hips. You grab his cock smirking at the groan that leaves his mouth. You slowly slide his tip up and down your pussy until you get impatient and sink slowly on to him. You whine as he grunts out "Fuck baby you feel so good."

You grind your hips down on him, your hands resting on his chest. You lift yourself taking him almost all the way out before slamming yourself back down. The air leaving your lungs at how deep he feels. You sit there loving how full you feel until he whimpers "You have to move, please." You smile down at him "You sound really pretty begging for me Wally." You fuck yourself on him, scratching his abdomen as you do. Wally notices your slowing and grabs your hips holding them still. "You gonna let me take over now?" he lifts his hips causing you to cry out. "Yes, please fuck me Wally." He thrusts his hips up into you at a bruising pace, telling you how pretty you are and how good you feel.

You mumble out incoherent sentences brain short-circuiting. He reaches down rubbing your clit as he fucks you harder somehow. You are fall forward onto his chest not being able to hold yourself up any longer. He takes the new position to his advantage fucking up into you and holding you tightly to him. "Wally, fuck it's to much. I can't." You whine into his ear. "You can take it pretty girl just let go for me. I've got you." His raspy voice brings you closer to the edge. "Gonna let me fill you up? Gonna let me ruin you Baby?" He pants in your ear as you whimper out a yes. His speed picks up pushing you over the edge screaming "WALLY." as you cum around him. He thrust a few more times hips stuttering as he fills you full of him.

You lay there together catching your breath his cock softening inside of you. He grabs his letterman from the floor draping it over your back, running his hand soothingly over your hair. He places gentle kisses over any skin he can reach allowing you to recover. He glances down at you and sees you drooling on his chest asleep his cock still nestled in you. He looks down at you in awe and settles back falling asleep dreaming of you.