18+
wally clark that’s a little very obsessed with his girlfriend. wally clark that gives off pure golden retriever energy until someone looks at you a few seconds too long and suddenly he’s all over you, gripping your waist from behind and burying his face in your neck. wally clark that can’t keep his hands off you at the best of times, his hands finding their home on your hips in particular or the back pocket of your jeans.
wally clark that gazes down at you with a grin when you’re trapped between him and the mattress, that goddamn gold chain dangling in front of your face. “you look so fucking pretty under me, baby”. wally clark that’s like a completely different man behind the safety of a locked bedroom door, fingers leaving marks on your waist from his tight grip, mouth staining any part of you he can reach a dark purple. “what’re you gonna tell your friends when they ask what happened?” “gonna say it was you” “you’re fucking right you will, baby”
Blurb:
Just my brain being turned on by hands. 🤷♀️
Eddie Munson loves teasing. It comes second nature to him.
He’d slip his hand around your throat anytime he was standing behind you. Giving it a tight squeeze then dragging his palm down your breast before settling on your hips.
He’d pretend his rings got caught in your hair to hear the little whine escape you when he pulled it.
He’d touch you in the gentlest ways yet so heated. Running his fingers in circles up your calf or down your spine.
He wanted you begging for his attention, his hands, his mouth, his cock.
Draco 🤤🤤🤤
PLEASEEEE MORE POSSESSIVE JELOUS DRACO🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️YOUR BAD SANTA FIC WAS LITERALLY EVEYTHING. POSSESSIVE MEN GOT ME WEAK
thank you for the request!! hope this is satisfactory 🫶🏻
feat. Draco Malfoy x fem!reader
SUMMARY: Draco finds out another student sabotaged your Herbology project.
CW: MDNI 18+, smut, draco’s pov, established relationship, possessive!draco, bullying, hurt/comfort, men suck, sort of rough fingering & piv, affectionate degradation if you squint (he refers to her as a plant), blood/fighting
masterlist
Draco watched as you pushed your pasta around your plate, staring absently at the whirls of sauce on the porcelain. You’d been quiet the entire meal, only speaking when directly spoken to by your group of friends, and even then, it was half-hearted, brief answers.
Both were unusual for his talkative, carb-loving girl.
He placed a light hand on your thigh, leaning closer to you. The warmth of your skin, the sweetness of your perfume, beckoned him even closer, but he ignored his impulses. “Everything alright, darling?” He asked, low enough that your friends couldn’t hear.
“Yes, just not very hungry,” you said in your pretty little voice, placing your hand over his and pecking his cheek.
He didn’t buy it. “I can track down some takeaway and we can eat in my dorm, if you’d like,” he offered, wondering if the commotion in the Great Hall was a bit too much for you.
You shook your head, another stunning development. You never turned down takeaway. “I’m fine, baby. Thank you, though.”
“Well, if you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll make one of these sod’s fetch it for you,” he teased, hoping to get a smile out of you. He didn’t.
Draco sighed, pressing a kiss to your temple before turning back to the conversation he was in the middle of with Theo and Pansy. He continued to watch you in his periphery as you started to play with his fingers, twirling his signet ring around and around. As much as he enjoyed the mindless contact, the delicate brush of your skin, he knew this was a nervous habit of yours.
He had half-a-thought to excuse you both, but he knew that would only draw more attention to your melancholy state, which would likely make you feel even worse. He could pick your brain later. Right now, he needed to make sure you were fed.
Casually, he picked up his fork, twirling a bit of his own pasta around the tines. Without breaking away from his conversation, he held the fork up to you, hoping you’d take a bite without really thinking about it. It was a small ritual the two of you developed during lengthy family dinners, something you often did automatically if he offered food to you. He felt you shift forward, your mouth wrap around the small bite, and you ate it.
He squeezed your thigh, a flare of affection making his heart pound. Good girl, he thought, but refrained from saying aloud.
The rest of dinner continued like that, Draco keeping your friends talking and distracted while he fed you small bites of his own dinner, your fingers twined with his in your lap. When he held up a bite and you gave small shake of your head, he knew it was because you were actually full, and he set his fork down, satisfied. For now.
That night in the common room, you were curled up in your chair by the fire, a book open in your lap while everyone pretended to study around you. He watched your eyes, your hands curled around the cover, and you were motionless. No pages turned, no lines devoured.
His worry deepened. Blaise seemed to notice as well, and gave him a curious look, dark brow raised. And of course, Theo caught the exchange, but turned back to his work, pretending he didn’t.
A prickle of suspicion climbed Draco’s neck. Typically, Theo was the first one to make a fuss over someone being in a sour mood due to his inability to tolerate negative emotions, but this time, he stayed silent.
Very odd, indeed.
But he could worry about Theo later. Draco lifted himself from the couch and walked over to you, dropping onto the floor in front of your chair. He tilted his head back, resting it against your shins. You reached down, dragging your fingers through his hair while you continued “reading” your book. He let his eyes flutter closed at the sensation, and tried to think of a way to draw you out of your head.
Lips pressed against his forehead, your perfume wafting over him, and he hummed in appreciation, reaching up to cradle your face. You leaned your cheek into his palm, and he titled his head back a little further to connect your lips in a soft kiss.
Your lips moved against his, brief and tender, and some of his tension unwound. It didn’t seem that you were upset with him, which was a relief. But, he wasn’t any closer to figuring out what exactly was troubling you.
“I’m going to go to bed,” you murmured in his ear, and he blinked in surprise, checking his watch.
It wasn’t even nine o’clock.
“So early, love? Are you feeling alright?” He turned to face you, rising to his knees. The group noticed, but he was too concerned to care. He placed the back of his hand on your forehead, your cheek, your neck, but you waved him away.
“I’m fine, D. Just tired,” you said, averting your eyes from his and rising from your chair.
“Baby—”
You leaned down and kissed him again, cutting off his protest. “I love you, I’ll see you in the morning,” you said, pecking his cheek one more time before walking towards the girls dormitory and ascending the stairs.
Draco slumped back to the ground, scrubbing a hand over his face.
“What did you do to her?” Pansy accused after a moment of tense silence.
“Nothing,” he snapped, though it was mostly toothless.
“She was acting strangely at dinner too,” Blaise noted. “She didn’t even have dessert.”
“Yeah, and she loves those chocolate things—what are they called?” Theo chimed in.
“Cauldron cakes,” Draco answered, glaring at them, irked that they were paying that close of attention to you. That was his job.
“Are you going to follow her?” Blaise asked, glancing at the stairs.
“No, he should give her some space,” Pansy said, giving him a pointed look.
“I’m perfectly capable of managing my girlfriend’s needs. Thank you,” he bit, and they fell quiet. He would leave you be, for now, but if you were still in a funk tomorrow evening, he’d be forced to intervene.
You were decidedly still unlike yourself come the following morning, and when he saw you during your shared Potion’s class. He continued to monitor the situation, trying to be patient like you often asked him to be, but that went out the window when you returned from your Herbology class with Theo in tears.
As soon as Draco saw your red and puffy eyes, he was on his feet. You ran straight into his chest, burying your wet face in his robes and digging your chilled hands into his back, trembling as your tears returned in earnest.
“Darling, what’s happened? What’s going on?” He cooed, wrapping his arms around your shaking torso, petting your hair in an attempt to soothe you. You didn’t respond, just held him tighter as you cried.
Theo tried to slip around the two of you, but Draco pinned him with a glare.
“What happened?” Draco hissed at him.
“Her Flutterby bush is dying,” Theo whispered, and you started to cry harder.
Shit. You’d slaved half the semester over this Flutterby bush in Herbology, it was your pride and joy, and you often stayed after hours with Professor Sprout to tend to it and the rest of the greenhouse. You had the greenest thumb Draco had ever encountered, and that plant was your baby. There was no way it would just suddenly die.
Draco raised a brow, and Theo made a ‘tell you later’ face. He nodded his head to dismiss his friend and turned his attention back to you, his poor, sensitive girl.
“Baby, it’s going to be alright. I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s going on—”
You shook you head. “It doesn’t make sense,” you sniffled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “It was perfectly fine. There’s no bugs or blights, I don’t understand.” You lifted your face, cheeks streaked with tears and lashes spikey, your eyes rimmed with red. The state of you made his heart ache.
“It’ll be alright,” he whispered, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs and pressing a kiss to your nose. “If anyone can save it, you can. You’re brilliant, love.” He used his sleeve to wipe your eyes and your nose before bundling you into his side. “Come on, relax for a bit with Pansy. That’ll help you think a little more clearly, yeah?”
You nodded, letting him deposit you on the couch beside your friend, who immediately abandoned what she was doing to fuss over you.
He kissed the top of your head, satisfied that you were well looked after for the time being. “I love you, I’ll be right back, okay?” He murmured, and you nodded again.
Theo was waiting for him in the hall. “Okay, so don’t get mad,” he said, holding his hands up.
Draco’s anger instantly flared. “Don’t give me a reason to get mad then.”
“She told me not to tell you because she knew you’d get all—” Theo gestured vaguely at Draco. “All…this.”
“Out with it, Nott,” he growled, fully prepared to punch his best friends nose through the back of his skull. What could you possibly want to keep from him?
“We think someone poisoned her plant,” Theo said, grimacing.
Draco froze, rage flaring so suddenly it darkened his vision. “What?” he snarled.
“We can’t say for sure yet,” Theo said hurriedly, trying to get ahead of the oncoming storm. “But there’s this one guy—”
“Who?”
“Reinhardt? Renfield? Something like that, I don’t know, he’s a Gryffindor. But he—Draco, where are you going?”
Draco was already halfway down the hall, formulating a plan in his mind about how to find this guy, and how to make him wish he’d never been born.
Theo grabbed his shoulder. “Listen, I have a better idea than storming the Gryffindor common room,” he said, and Draco paused.
“Go on.”
Draco loitered outside the Greenhouse, hidden by some trees, a stupid plastic ear in his hand. Theo had the other tucked into his robes, and Draco could hear Sprout beginning her lecture through their connection.
Draco sighed. This was ridiculous, he should just waltz in there and figure out exactly who this—
“Hey, y/n,” he heard someone mutter, an unfamiliar male voice, and he immediately held up the ear to listen. “Flutterby’s not lookin’ so good. Maybe I could help clear away some of the dead stuff?”
Draco's ears started ringing so loudly, he almost missed your response.
“I'm killing it just fine on my own, Renley, I don't need any assistance from you.”
He heard Theo snicker in the background, and Draco smiled. Atta girl.
“My mandrakes are thriving, thank you,” Renley replied, his voice tight with indignation. “It's a real shame about yours, though. Probably would have gotten you top marks.”
You didn't respond, and Draco gripped a tree branch to stop himself from charging through the glass to get this audacious fucker.
“Fuck off, Renford,” Theo warned, the feed clouded by his robes rustling.
“It's Renley,” the prick corrected, his voice a little louder, and Draco could practically hear Theo roll his eyes. “So, what do you say, sweetheart?” Sweetheart? Oh, this fucker was a dead man walking. “I'm willing to stay after and help you out. I'm good with poisons—”
“Poison’s?” You asked, a snarky lilt to your voice, and Draco loosed a relieved exhale despite the implication. For the first time in days, you sounded like yourself. “Who said anything about poison?”
“Oh, I—uh—”
“Reindeer, how did you know her plant was poisoned?” Theo prodded, his smirk audible.
“I don't! It's obv—it’s probably not p-poison!” Renley stammered.
“What's this about poison?” Sprout interrupted at the same moment Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle emerged from the treeline.
“Check fucking mate,” Draco mouthed, grinning.
“Professor Sprout, I do believe Renley here just confessed to poisoning y/n’s beloved Flutterby bush,” Theo said.
“Is this true, dearie?” Sprout asked you.
“Yes ma’am, it explains the strange phenomena we noted, as well as the sudden nature of the ailment. Renley’s been taunting me for days, and finally his mouth got ahead of his brain,” you said, poised as a Queen, and Draco was so proud of you it hurt.
Sprout gasped. “Mr. Renley! To Dumbledore's office this instant!”
“Crabbe, Goyle, grab him,” Draco ordered, stuffing the ear into his robes.
The two of them lumbered over the door, staying out of sight until the culprit stepped out into the sunlight, and Goyle grabbed Renley by the shoulders and started to drag him back around the Greenhouse.
“Hey! What the fuck—” his words pinched to a strangled whine when he saw Draco and Blaise waiting a few feet away, arms folded over their chests, completely hidden from the rest of campus.
Goyle shoved him to the ground at Draco's feet, and the coward was already sniveling.
Draco crouched down, nose to nose with the fucker that made his girl miserable, and smiled. “Was it worth it, Renley?” Draco asked, his voice low.
“Look, Malfoy. I didn't mean to—”
Draco didn't give him a chance to finish his paltry excuse and cocked his fist back, slamming his knuckles square in the side of his jaw. The bone crunched under his fist, sending Renley flying sideways in a spray of spit and blood, and Draco rose, clenching and unclenching his aching hand.
Normally, he'd step back and let the others get their hands dirty, but you were his girl. And if anyone was going to defend your honor, it would be him.
“No, no please!” Renley begged when Goyle hauled him back up. Draco punched him again, dead on the nose, then the temple, then the sternum. Goyle let Renley fall, groveling and weeping as blood ran down his face, his eyes already half-swollen shut.
Draco grabbed him by the hair, lifting his head up so he could whisper in his ear. “You're lucky it wasn't poison,” he snarled, and dropped Renley’s head into the dirt. “Leave him on the front steps of the castle,” he said to Crabbe and Goyle, who immediately pulled the boy up and started dragging him back towards the castle.
Blaise chuckled. “That was fucking brutal, mate.”
Draco looked down at his bruised and bloody knuckles, the pain bright and deliciously satisfying, his signet ring splattered with red. “Like I said, he's lucky I didn't decide to poison him.”
The chatter of students filled the air, and he looked up to see the Greenhouse emptying. Theo headed straight for them, glancing at Draco's knuckles and the blood in the grass before breaking out in a wild grin.
“Sorry I missed it,” Theo laughed.
“Where is she?” Draco asked.
“Staying behind to administer the antidote. Sprout is leaving her to ensure Renley is dealt with accordingly.”
“Well, she certainly won't be disappointed,” Blaise snickered.
“So she’s alone?” Draco asked, raising an eyebrow. He was hoping to clean himself up before seeing you, but wasn't sure he could resist the temptation. Not with his blood still running hot and your smart little voice echoing in his mind.
“Yep.” Theo smirked. “See ya’ back in the common room.” He and Blaise turned and started heading back to the castle, leaving Draco alone.
He rounded the greenhouse, knocking with his sore knuckles so he didn't startle you.
“Draco? What are you—saints, your hands!” You cried, rushing over to open the door for him. You grabbed for his hands, face pinched with worry.
“I'm fine, love,” he cooed, letting you fuss. The air in the greenhouse was thick and warm, coaxing him in like a embrace. It smelled fresh and lush, sweet soil and green leaves, like you.
Merlin, he couldn't think straight with you looking at him like that.
“Who did—” you paused, eyes narrowing. “Renley?”
He smirked. “Maybe.”
“Draco!” You huffed, dropping his hands. “I had it under control!”
“I know you did! You were amazing! I just...accelerated the consequences.”
You glared at him, but he could see you softening by the second.
“Baby, I'm fine. And he'll be fine in like, four to five business days.”
“Draco!” You shouted, but you were smiling. He fucking loved what you called his name in that exasperated but undeniably affectionate voice. “You don't have to get involved all the time. I'm perfectly capable of fighting my own battles, and Professor Sprout was working with me to solve it and—”
Draco reached out, pinching your cheeks with one hand, pursing your pouting lips and dragging you closer to him. “I'd do it again in a heartbeat. No one fucks with you so long as I'm breathing, is that clear?”
You nodded, eyes round and sweet like honey.
He released your face, sliding his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck and craning your head upwards. “Can I kiss you now? Or would you like to keep telling me off?”
You leaned forward, pressing your lips to his in a playful, smiley kiss. “Anything for my hero.”
“Anything?” Draco purred, walking you back into the long work table. You gasped, arching against his chest, and he caught the sound with another kiss, slipping his tongue past your lips to taste you.
Your tongue tangled with his, so eager as you pulled his tie to bring him closer. He guided your tongue into his mouth, sucking lightly before releasing you to bite your lip, toying with your mouth like he owned it.
And he could feel how much you loved it, your hips pressing against his as your hands wandered his chest, unable to pick a resting place.
He smiles, moving his hands to grip your hips. In a quick movement, he spun you around. Your hands slapped onto the table to catch yourself, your perfect ass pressing back against his rapidly hardening cock.
“Draco,” you whined, trying to look over your shoulder at him.
He tsked, sliding up your skirt, admiring the way his ruined knuckles looked against the soft flesh. “Do you want me to be gentle with you, darling?” He already knew what your answer would be, especially after a few stressful days, but he felt inclined to double check.
You shook your head side to side, pressing your ass back into his hands. “No.”
He smiled, squeezing the ample flesh, then delivered a swift slap that made you gasp. “That's my girl. You want me to scare away all those bad thoughts? Turn your brain off for a bit?” He slid his right hand between your legs, gliding two fingers over the damp spot on your panties.
You nodded, nails scratching along the wood when he applied a little pressure, moving his hand in a slow circle.
“Words, love,” he said, pausing his movement.
“Yes, baby. Please,” you whined, and his cock gave a painful lurch against his thigh.
“Colloportus,” he murmured, flicking his wand to lock the Greenhouse door. “Don't move,” he ordered, then walked over to the sink, washing the blood from his hands and muttering a quiet episkey to fix most of the damage on his skin. Some cuts remained, and his hands were still sore and slightly bruised, but it wasn't nearly as bad.
Satisfied, he turned his attention back to you, where you remained perfectly still, nibbling at your lower lip. In quick movement, he pulled down your panties, letting the fall around your ankles, and kicked your feet further apart, forcing you to lay your chest against the table.
“There we go,” he purred, bringing his hand back between your legs.
You were already soaked, hot and slick as his middle finger swiped through your sex. He started massaging your clit, quick, light circles that had you moaning breathlessly.
“Better, darling? Nothing to worry about besides being my good girl.” He moved away from your clit and eased his middle finger inside of you, his signet ring kissing your entrance before he curled his finger up. Your walls fluttered around him, sucking back against his finger when he pulled it out, only to graciously stretch for him when he added a second.
“Fuck, D,” you moaned, rocking your hips against his hand. “You said you wouldn't be gentle “
He smirked, enraptured with the way your pretty little cunt yielded for his battered hand. “Just so pretty,” he hummed, leaning down to whisper in your ear, pressing you harder against the table. “Can't help but worship you a little.”
You opened your mouth to reply, but he slammed his fingers inside of you, drilling into your channel with sloppy, punishing strokes. You cried out, feet sliding around on the floor, but he had you pinned and at his mercy.
“This better, brat?” He growled, nipping at your ear when you keened for him, unable to formulate a response. “Oh, how that fucker wishes he could see you now,” he drawled, straightening while his fingers fucked into you. “What'd he call you? Sweetheart?” He chuckled. “Sweet doesn't begin to cover it.”
“How did you—”
He slipped his fingers out to work your clit, the bud swelling under his touch as your orgasm built, and your words twisted into a moan. He tried to stay focused, keep you on the edge until he was sheathed inside of you, but couldn't bring himself to stop just yet.
“Are you sweet, baby?” He asked, swatting your ass cheek, enjoying the way your flesh rippled.
“Only for you,” you gasped, starting to tremble as that knot wound tighter and tighter.
“That's right,” he praised, undoing his trousers and taking his cock in his hand. He was insanely hard, the head a deep pink, pearly precum beading from the slit. He pumped himself twice to relieve some of the ache, then notched himself at your entrance, not pausing his assault on your clit for a moment. “All fucking mine,” he growled at the same moment he thrust inside of you, burying himself to the hilt.
You cried out, muscles contracting hard around him, and he groaned low in his throat. You were so fucking tight, gooey and supple when you weren't squeezing the life out of him. He drew back a few inches before snapping his hips forward, gripping your ass cheek in his free hand to keep you spread for him as he pounded into you.
He felt your orgasm hit the second before you did, your cunt clamping down on him a heartbeat before you screamed, your whole body locking up before going completely limp. He didn't let up, no matter how much you shook, how much you begged. Your tears left damp spots on the wood, your knees trying to buckle inwards, but he planted his feet on the inside of yours, forcing you to stay upright.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasped, snaking a hand up your spine to grip your hair and pull your head back. “Doing so well for me, sweet thing.” He was panting, the heat of the greenhouse coupled with the exterior making sweat collect around his hairline and drip down his spine. His knuckles burned from the salt, hands ached from being used long past when they should have been bandaged, but he didn't give a single fuck.
“Draco, shit—fuck me so good.” You reached back for him, nails dragging along his forearm, and he felt himself teeter on the edge of release, his balls drawing up tight as liquid heat spread through his pelvis.
“Give me one more, baby. I know you can. Then I'll water my favorite plant.”
Your pussy clenched at his words, a wanton moan falling from your lips, and he smiled. You were such a little freak, his little freak, and he loved you all the more it.
“You like being my pretty little houseplant? All mine to take care of?” Fuck, he was close, rambling in an attempt to distract himself and spend just a little longer in the delicious heat of your body.
“Yes, yes—fuck!” You were coming again, your whole body convusling as it ripped through you, and he was done for. He came with a yell, hips stuttering against your ass as he pumped rope after rope of release into your spasming cunt.
“Bloody hell, baby,” he moaned, bracing his hands on the table as he came down, his hips involuntarily rocking into your greedy warmth. You, poor thing, were left drooling and trembling, completely boneless, held up entirely by the table and his hips. He leaned forward, pressing kisses into your hair. “Did so good, love. So fucking perfect,” he murmured, throat tight with affection.
“Squishin’ me,” you giggled, squirming beneath him, and he straightened, nearly toppling over himself at the weak feeling in his knees.
“Sorry, darling,” he chuckled, and you groaned, pushing yourself up on trembling arms. He moved his feet, letting you close your legs, and he hissed through his teeth at the new tightness around his softening cock, stealing a final thrust before slipping out of you.
“Mm, how did you know he called me sweetheart?” You asked, peeking over your shoulder at him while he grabbed his wand to clean you both up.
“I have my methods,” he replied, righting your clothes and helping you stand up, relishing in the lingering tremble in your limbs.
“Were you spying on me, Draco Malfoy?” You teased, tugging him down by the tie so you were face to face.
He smirked. “Perhaps.”
“What a horrible invasion of privacy,” you snickered, giving him a playful peck.
“You want to punish me for it?” He nipped at your lower lip and you grinned, pushing lightly on his chest.
“Enough you, I have to administer the antidote before my plant gets any sicker.”
“Good thing I already cured mine,” he teased, and you swatted him before slipping out of his arms.
“You're insufferable.”
“And you're adorable.”
You grabbed some items from the shelves and a watering can, then paused, turning to look at him, a deadly serious look on your face. “Can we get takeaway after this?”
He snorted, his heart doing a giddy little flip. “Of course we can.”
I’ve been considering writing some because the lack of it is tragic.
Plz for the love of all that is wally Clark I need more smut I'm feening for some more wally Clark smut who do I have to kiss to make this happen
This just does something to me 🤤🤤🤤
summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.
pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating. miscommunication. public sex. egregious use of the word 'baby'.
bon reading, frens
___________________________🧿
Alphabet Soup - M
M is for misunderstandings, and miscommunication, and misleading rumors that bring Wally to his knees while he's in his football kit, 20 minutes before the game. Baby, I swear and I know it's fucked up, but you have to believe me because you DO. Whoever told you that he sexed Janet up at Brandon's Homecoming Game Eve party fucking lied. The notion makes Wally queasy and you're not listening, Jesus, baby, stop, just listen! But you're too busy hurting, putting distance between you and Wally like he's fucking contagious, and he doesn't know what else to do.
He grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around, and pins you against the wall with his body, arms fastened around you like boa constriction. You push and shove and loose a muffled scream against his chest. He doesn't budge. Kisses your head, temple, the curve of your jaw, "Stop, baby, please. Please, listen to me." A kiss to the corner of your mouth when you finally submit, pliant in his arms, huffing and hateful and oh so magnificent in your anger.
One hand glides down your spine, the other cradles your face, his eyes begging you to hear him out, "It's not true, sweet girl." He promises, "I wouldn't do that to you. I'd never do. that. to you." And he really fucking wouldn't. To Janet? Yeah, they aren't a thing; not how it matters. But you? It would have to mean life or death, and even then...
You and he are behind the stadium, the back area used by concessions, recycle on one side, trash on the other, hidden from view. Wally lets go. You slump against the wall, expression closed and ears open. He can't play until you smile. Until he knows you're his again. Then bench-rider Matt pops his head out of the security door to tell Wally t-minus too few minutes before he has to hit the field.
"Get lost."
"But—"
"Get fucking lost, Wilson!"
Matt gets fucking lost, off to assure Coach that his MVP will be ready for kickoff. Wally turns his attention right back to you, hands on your neck, thumbs stroking your cheeks, trying to make you look at him. When he kisses you, you fight back with teeth, but at least you respond. Fire and passion so strong that all of Wally's blood jets south and his vision is more inkspots than reality. He shackles one of your wrists in his big hand, then the other. Over your head on the wall as he fucks your mouth with his tongue.
"You gotta believe me, baby," He urges, voice rough and low, taking your wrists in one hand so he can grope under your Devils' blue dress with the other. God, you'd look good in his letterman. A package so pretty he'd have to unwrap you on sight. A smirk against your lips when his fingers rub your pussy through your panties from behind. Soaked. "You like it when I'm rough with you, don't you, baby girl?" He kisses you again. Hard. Nips your lip sharp enough to break the delicate skin.
The moan he swallows makes him throb.
"You didn't really believe it did you? You just wanted to pick a fight...naughty girl." He coos, rich and dark and so hard he thinks he might pass out. "You wanted to get me like this..." He grinds his hips against you, that just-right pressure making his eyes roll back. "Fuck, baby, all you had to do was ask." His fingers keep playing with your pussy, rubbing and teasing, sneaking under thin fabric to feel that sweet velvety heat he can't wait any longer to get around his cock.
In one coarse move, Wally turns you, bends you, ass up, hands on the wall, and a deep curve in your back. He takes a moment to admire you, his fingers digging into your lovehandles. Too bad he doesn't have time to tease you, tugs your panties down to your knees, his pants shoved down to his thighs, hissing when the cool air hits sensitive flesh.
"Gonna make a mess of you baby." He vows and he does, fucks you hard and unforgiving against the stadium wall. Slams into you over and over, angling himself in a way he knows will hit your g-spot every time. On every beat of his hips, you choke, moan, whimper, beg for mercy or more, and he growls in response, moves faster, harder until, fuck, baby, I'm gonna—
Just as it starts, he pulls out, rubs his cockhead through your folds, paints your pussy lips with his come as he strokes himself stupid. But he's not done yet. Before you can breathe, he plunges the fingers of one hand inside you, the fingers of the other on your clit, furious and savage, "That's it, baby girl." He feels you clench, spasm, and then you shout his name as you squirt all over his hand.
Your panties are ruined, used to mop up the mess Wally made as it trickled down the inside of your legs. He smirks at you, hungry, the look in his eyes a guarantee that you're not sleeping at home tonight. You're not sleeping at all.
He takes your bunched up panties from you when you try to throw them in the dumpster, "Nuh-uh, sweet girl, these'll be my lucky charm," and he flagrantly shoves them inside his jockstrap, discreet under the cup, and leaves you to join his team with a deep, hungry kiss and a slap on the ass.
It's the best damn game Wally has ever played.
27-0.
Coach claps his back and demands that Wally do whatever pre-game ritual he did today for the rest of time and Wally's only too happy to oblige. His eyes find you easily in the stands, dress pulled down as far as you could get it, and a feral grin curls his lips. After all, if there's one thing you don't fuck with, it's athletic superstition.
🧿___________________________
MASTERLIST
also available on AO3!
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
cop!rafe gives dumb!reader a warning (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
summary: officer cameron has had quite the uneventful night. he’s told to park on a quiet backroad to speed trap, but ends up making a stupid girl give him head instead of making her pay her ticket!
cw : smut, 18+, flirting, teasing, breast play, blowjob, reader is stupid and flirty, she’s a bad driver, lots of ‘like’
a/n : cop!rafe has a 70’s porn stache and that’s final! also i didn’t proof this very well sooooo sorry. also send me hc’s for cop!rafe and dumb!reader if you like them paired together!
officer cameron’s mouth opened wide as he yawned, rubbing his face with his hand. earlier that night he was called to bust a group of teenage delinquents that were t-p’ing their teachers’ home. ‘just go home, guys’ he told them, hands positioned at the top of his vest—and anticlimactically enough, they did, without much fuss.
his second dispatch of the night was at a run-down gas station just outside of town. the cashier, an older, frail-looking man had called 911 in hopes for the cops to detain the homeless man that was loitering out front. rafe explained to the clerk that he wasn’t able to arrest the homeless man because he wasn’t technically doing anything illegal.
“sir, in the state of north carolina its not illegal for him to sit outside a public building. unless you have a no loitering sign posted out front, which,” he glanced toward the two double, glass doors for a moment, “…it looks like you don’t have.” the older man gave him a glare and muttered, “ain’t no wonder why crime rates is goin’ up—they got pretty boys who don’ know nothin’ ‘bout anythin’…”
that was 2 hours ago.
rafe had been told to ‘speed trap’ on a dark, secluded backroad just north of town. he’s been sitting in his black suv for two hours doing absolutely nothing because no one comes down this road anymore. he was most-likely going to bust a couple of horny high-schoolers who parked on the side of the road to have sex—that’s probably about as entertaining as his night will get.
‘there’s jack shit goin’ on…’ he thought to himself before his tired eyes fluttered shut and the back of his head hit the seat. the soft singing voice on the radio was like a lullaby to his exhausted mind, as his breathing slowed and head began to droop to the side.
CLUNK!
the car jolted foward.
“what the fuck!—“ he shouted, his hand already gripping the handle of his door as he twisted around to look behind him. the red glow of his taillights illuminated the sleek, white bmw that had just plowed into the back of his suv. shoving the door open, he stepped out into the warm september air, his boots crunching against the gravel shoulder as he stomped toward the offending vehicle. he barely had time to process his frustration before he was knocking on the driver’s side window, his patience already worn thin.
“roll down your window.” his tone was sharp, authoritative—ready to chew out whatever dumbass had just rear-ended a cop car in the middle of an empty road. the window lowered with an soft-sounding hum, and rafe’s planned berate died on his tongue as he saw the woman behind the wheel.
big, glossy eyes blinked up at him, framed by your thick lashes. plush, overlined lips wobbled into a pout. long, perfectly curled hair cascaded over your bare shoulders, the strands catching the faint glow of his headlights like spun gold.
you were stunning.
you also looked like you were about to cry.
and the first words out of your mouth?
“omg, i think my car is broken?!” you squealed in a high, valley-girl like voice. rafe exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. it was clear to him that it was going to be a long night.
rafe stared at you, blinking slow like he needed a second to process what the hell he just heard. her car was broken? he resisted the urge to laugh. not because it was funny—because it was so damn stupid that it almost knocked the anger right out of him. almost.
his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek as he tipped his head toward the crumpled front of your clearly expensive bmw. the left headlight was completely busted, shards of glass littering the pavement, and the front bumper had a nice little dent where it had kissed his suv.
“yeah,” rafe deadpanned, arms crossing over his broad chest. “that tends to happen when you slam into a parked car.” your plump lips parted in an exaggerated gasp, manicured fingers flying to your chest like he’d just accused you of murder.
“i did not slam into you mister,” you insisted, shaking your head, curls bouncing with the motion. “like—ugh! i barely tapped you. my car is literally so sensitive.” you flailed her hands toward the bmw, like it was some fragile piece of art instead of a luxury car you clearly couldn’t drive. “i barely even touched the gas, i swear.”
rafe’s patience was hanging on by a thread.
“you were going fast enough to knock my car forward,” he muttered, glancing back at his own vehicle, which had very much been affected by your little “tap.”
you didn’t acknowledge that. instead, you let out a dramatic sigh, you gaze flickering to him like you’d just now noticed he was wearing a police uniform.
“wait—are you, like, a cop-cop?” you voice was drenched in the kind of obliviousness that only came from never having to deal with consequences. you batted your thick lashes, glossy pink lips curving into something dangerously close to a smile. “oh my god, that’s so funny, i thought you were just, like… a guy in a police car.”
rafe shut his eyes for a second. breathed. counted to three.
it didn’t help.
“license and registration,” he gritted out, reaching for the notepad in his belt.
your face fell.
“wait, no.” you reached out, lightly slapping his forearm with both hands like you were scolding him. “you don’t have to do all that. i mean, look at me!” you gestured to yourself, blinking up at him with glassy, bambi-like eyes. “do i look like a criminal?”
rafe arched a brow. “you look like someone who just crashed into a cop car.” you huffed, crossing your arms in a pout, your cleavage very much on display in the low-cut, hot pink crop top you were barely wearing.
“this is actually, like, so sexist of you,” you announced, twisting a loose strand of your hair around your finger. “you’re totally, like… abusing your power or whatever. just because i’m, like, a girl, and i might’ve, like, barely hit you, you wanna give me a ticket?”
rafe had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.
“license. and. registration,” he repeated, his voice low, firm.
you groaned, throwing your head back dramatically before shifting in your seat, digging through the mess of designer handbags, receipts, and random makeup products littering your passenger seat.
“ughhh, fiiiine. but, like, can i just say—this is actually so embarrassing for me right now?” you tossed a loose curl over your shoulder, sending him a look. “you’re, like, totally ruining my night.”
rafe exhaled a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “same to you, honey.”
officer cameron waited, watching as you dug through the mess in your passenger seat, tossing aside random receipts, lip gloss tubes, and what looked like a small, sparkly dog sweater.
he was this close to losing it.
finally, with a triumphant little gasp, you pulled out a thick booklet and shoved it toward him, flashing a proud, dead serious look.
“is this it?” you asked, nearly pouting.
rafe stared at the object in your hands.
the car manual.
he dragged a slow hand down his face. fuckin’ hell.
“no.” his voice was flat. so, so flat.
your perfect brows furrowed, lips pushing into a pout as you flipped the manual open, like you were actually about to prove him wrong.
“are you sure?” you flipped another page, scanning it with intense focus. “because, like, it totally has stuff about the car in it. like, see?” you turned the booklet toward him, pointing at a diagram of an engine. “that’s my engine.”
rafe let out a slow, controlled exhale through his nose.
“that’s the manual. i need the registration.”
you blinked up at him. “okay, well, what does that look like?”
his patience snapped. “you don’t know what a registration looks like, but you had this ready to go?” he tapped the thick booklet still clutched in your manicured hands.
you huffed, rolling her eyes. “well, yeah. it was, like, in the glove thingy. and it’s literally about my car, so—why wouldn’t that be it?”
rafe tipped his head back, staring at the sky like it might grant him the strength to deal with this girl.
you were still flipping through the damn manual, nodding like you’d just cracked a code. “oh! maybe it’s this part. it says ‘registration’ right here—”
he glanced down.
you were pointing at a section about registering the fucking bluetooth.
rafe actually laughed this time—a sharp, disbelieving sound as he braced both hands on the edge of your window, leaning in a little too close, his eyes burning into yours.
“you’re kidding,” he muttered. “you have to be kidding.”
you looked up at him, wide-eyed, genuinely confused. “why would I be kidding? i literally don’t joke about stuff like this.”
of course you didn’t.
rafe’s jaw ticked as he straightened up, rolling his shoulders back. this was a waste of time. he should’ve just written you up and sent you on your way—but something about you? it was entertaining. infuriating. and maybe, just maybe… kind of fun.
“move over,” he ordered.
you blinked. “huh?”
rafe gestured toward the passenger seat. “move. i’ll find it myself.”
your lips parted in outrage. “you can’t just, like, get in my car!”
he smirked, slow and lazy, hands braced on his belt. “i can when the driver is too incompetent to find her own registration.”
you gasped, offended. “did you just call me incompetent?”
“yeah, sweetheart.” he opened the door. “now, move.”
rafe barely had the door open before you huffed dramatically and shimmied over to the passenger seat, arms crossed tight over your chest. the movement made your light gray sweatpants ride low on your hips, the little rhinestone “JUICY” across the back catching the glow of his headlights. your hot pink crop top clung to you like a second skin, dipping low enough to keep rafe’s eyes very distracted—not that he’d ever admit it.
you popped your gum, blowing a big, obnoxious bubble before snapping it back between your teeth with a loud crack.
rafe clenched his jaw.
this girl was going to kill him.
sliding into the driver’s seat, he scanned the absolute disaster zone that was your car. the smell of vanilla body spray and expensive leather filled his nose as he shifted through the chaotic mess of designer bags, old coffee cups, and random beauty products littering the center console.
“fuck,” he muttered, pushing aside a half-empty bottle of baccarat rouge 540 like it was a crime scene. “you live in here?”
you gasped like he’d just insulted your entire bloodline.
“excuse me?” you whipped around in your seat, long hair spilling over your shoulder. “this is, like, so rude. my car is literally clean.”
rafe held up a crumpled chick-fil-a bag he’d just unearthed from under a louis vuitton tote.
you waved a dismissive hand, chewing your gum even louder. “okay, well, i got that, like, yesterday.”
he arched a brow. “so?”
“so, that means it doesn’t count.”
rafe exhaled through his nose, deciding not to engage in that particular brand of insanity.
instead, he yanked open the glovebox and—finally—there it was. the damn registration. crinkled, barely legible, but it was there.
he snatched it up, flashing it in your face like a trophy. “this. this is your registration.”
you blinked, blowing another big, dramatic bubble before snapping it again.
“okay, well, like, how was i supposed to know that? it literally looks like all the other papers.”
rafe let out a slow, painfully controlled breath, gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles went white.
with a sharp exhale, he exited your vehicle and stalked back toward his suv, pulling the driver’s side door open with more force than necessary. sliding into his seat, he braced his elbows on the center console, rubbing a hand down his face before flipping open his ticket book. the dim glow from his dashboard illuminated the small slip of paper in his hand as he scribbled down your information. his pen scratched against the ticket book, each stroke slow and deliberate—not because he needed extra time, but because he knew you were waiting.
and you were impatient.
he could see you through the rearview mirror, still sitting pretty in your tiny pink crop top, tapping your long, manicured nails against the steering wheel. every few seconds, you’d huff, shifting in your seat, chewing your gum obnoxiously loud.
rafe smirked.
you were so fucking bratty.
finally, he tore the ticket from the book with a slow rip, taking his time as he slid out of his car and made his way back to your open car door.
you immediately perked up, your big doe eyes locking onto him as he leaned down, leaving his right hand on the top of your car.
“ugh, finally,” you groaned, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “i thought i was gonna like, die of boredom.”
rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “tragic,” he murmured, then held out the ticket. “here. make sure your daddy’s card doesn’t decline.”
you snatched it from his hand, rolling your eyes—but when you looked down at the amount, your jaw dropped.
“wait—WHAT?!” you screeched, shaking the paper in his face. “you’re, like, literally joking. there is no way you’re charging me this much!”
rafe just smirked, leaning in closer.
“speeding, reckless driving, and hitting a cop car?” his voice was low, smug. “sounds about right.”
you huffed, your nails scraping against the paper as you dramatically threw your head back. “ugh! this is sooo unfair!”
then, suddenly, you paused. your lips pursed, eyebrows furrowing—and rafe could see it happening. that little spark of mischief, the way you scanned his face, glossy pink lips slowly curling into a smug little smirk. you had an idea.
“you wouldn’t want my daddy to be mad at me, right?” you said sweetly, biting your lip, lashes fluttering up at him. “‘cause like, that’d be really bad of you.”
your fingers toyed with the hem of your crop top, pulling it down ever so slightly—just enough to make his gaze flicker, just enough to remind him how tight it was stretched across your perfect, perky tits.
rafe exhaled slowly through his nose, his jaw tightening. “you really think that’s gonna work?” he muttered, though his voice was noticeably rougher now. your smirk only widened. you leaned in, so close he could smell your sweet perfume and the bubblegum on your breath.
“can’t i, like…pay for this in a different way?” you murmured, your voice dripping with fake innocence, fingers trailing up the front of his uniform, playing with one of the buttons.
rafe’s gaze dropped to your lips—your glossy, plump, parted lips—and for a split second, he let himself imagine it. you, on your knees. looking up at him all needy and desperate, your bratty little attitude gone as you sucked his hard cock, choking as he forced you to deepthroat him.
“you’re out of your damn mind,” he muttered, eyes still maintained on your lips.
despite every reason to shut this down—your spoiled attitude, your blatant bribery, the fact that you’d just crashed into his damn car—he found himself rooted in place, his pulse thudding a little too hard, a little too fast.
your fingers were still playing with his uniform buttons, long nails scraping just lightly enough to send a chill down his spine. you knew exactly what you were doing.
your lips parted as if you were going to say something else—maybe another whiny complaint, maybe another suggestion for how you could make this ticket disappear—but before you could get the words out, he reached up, gripping your chin between his fingers.
the playful smirk vanished from your face. your lashes fluttered, lips parting slightly as you stared up at him, your usual bratty confidence flickering under the weight of his stare.
“sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, just barely grazing your bottom lip. “you crash into a cop car, you pay the fine,” rafe continued, voice low, gravelly, his blue eyes darkening as he tipped your chin up further. “that’s how it works.”
you swallowed, your throat bobbing under his grip. then, suddenly, you let out a soft giggle. you tilted your head, nipping at the tip of his thumb before flashing him a sly, knowing smile
“or,” you whispered, your voice breathy, tempting, “you could just let it slide…” your giggle was soft, sweet—too sweet.
rafe went still. for a split second, he just stared at you, his grip tightening around your chin as the words sank in. you were bratty. you were spoiled. just so damn obvious.
and yet, he could feel the heat creeping up his neck, the urge to call your bluff pressing down on him like a weight.
his jaw ticked, his eyes flickering to the empty road, the pitch-black stretch of kildare that nobody ever drove down this late. the only sound was the soft whistle of the crickets in the distance, the occasional whisper of wind through the trees.
nobody was around.
nobody would see.
his eyes snapped back to you.
before you could react, rafe’s hand dropped from your chin, and instead, he began undoing belt. “better get to fuckin’ work then, hun.” he muttered, voice heavy with lust.
you gasped, eyes widening at the sight. his thick, hard cock sprung out of his trousers, now eye-level with you.
rafe just stared down at you, his chest rising and falling. he gripped your jaw and brought it towards his red-tipped dick, pressing it onto your glossy lips.
rafe swore he’d seen the smallest smirk on your lips before your mouth parted, inviting him in. his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as your hand came up to hold him steady at his base, cock going deeper into your throat with every lick.
gaining confidence, your movements became more fluid, bobbing your head onto his length with ease—like you were a pro at this, giving cops head to avoid paying tickets.
“fuck.” rafe groaned, throwing his head back in bliss, guiding the back of your head with his left hand. his right hand came down to your tube top, forcing it down to reveal your tits. you giggled on his cock, using your free hand to make a show of squeezing and playing with your boobs for him to watch.
“you’re such a fuckin’ slut…. givin’ a cop head so you don’t have to pay for ticket…” he humorlessly chuckled, gripping your hair tighter as he thrusted into your mouth faster.
spit bubbles were falling from the corners of your mouth, dripping onto the white leather of the drivers seat. he leaned down, grabbing a handful of your tit, massaging it as he groaned.
you stared up at him with doe-like eyes, silently begging for his cum. he recieved the message, grabbing your face with both of his hands, fucking your mouth at a fast pace.
gulg gulg gulg
your mouth made the explicit noise as you impulsively moaned around his member, scratching at his wrists, almost at your limit.
“shit—gonna cum all over that pretty face—“ rafe moaned, pulling out of your throat, jerking himself off, other hand forcing your mouth open wide.
his hot cum spurted out in white ropes, landing on various places of your flushed face. his movements on his cock slowed, as he gained his sense of reality back.
he looked down at your cum-cover face—laughing when he saw the bimbo-like look in your eyes.
“well,” he started, putting himself back into his trousers, grabbing a couple of napkins from the inside of your door. he wiped his white semen off of your face, making you giggle. “i guess i could let you off with a warning, instead.” he smirked, giving your red face a light slap.
<3
i wanna get teased with the tip til i cry
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Masterlist Tag Lists
“I don’t know if I can drive home in this.”
Eddie walked up behind you, peering over your head at the torrential downpour occurring outside. It was raining like crazy, so hard you could barely see right in front of you.
“Shit,” Eddie cursed. “I don’t know how the hell we didn’t hear that-“
“Couldn’t hear over the sound of you shaking in your boots over The Exorcist,” you teased.
“Hey, I was not scared,” Eddie said, looking at you seriously. “I was just…cold.”
“Sure,” you grinned, walking around him and back into the trailer. It was late, Wayne had long ago left for work. You were supposed to be having a movie night with Steve and Robin, but they bailed at the last second, leaving you and Eddie alone.
“I wasn’t scared!” he called back. He shut the front door, locking it, and followed you back into the living room. “So, uh…I guess you’re spending the night here?”
“I guess so,” you agreed. “Because I can’t drive in all that.”
Eddie nodded. “Okay. Uh…”
“What?” you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well I don’t, exactly…have somewhere for you to sleep?”
“You have a bed, don’t you?”
“Well yeah, but-“
“But what, you don’t want to share with me?”
Eddie blushed. “No- I mean, I do- wait, fuck-“
You beamed. “Perfect, then. We can just share. I don’t mind.”
Eddie minded. The ache in his jeans certainly minded, the thought of you in his bed only making it worse. What did you sleep in? He pictured you in nothing but your underwear, cuddling up to him for warmth-
You happily bounded into his bedroom, making yourself at home on the bed. It wasn’t the biggest, enough for the two of you but you’d be close. You looked up at Eddie, standing frozen at the bottom of the bed.
Eddie’s mouth went dry at the sight of you laying on his bed. You were leaning back on your elbows, looking up at him with this innocent expression that made his cock twitch. If he wasn’t so scared of ruining the friendship he would just say that - well, not about his cock, but that he found you beautiful. That he wanted to kiss you really, really badly right now.
“I don’t have any clothes with me,” you said. “Do you, uh, have anything I could borrow?”
Eddie snapped out of his thoughts. “Oh, yeah. I have some t-shirts you can use. I have pajama pants, if they’ll fit?”
“I’m good in just a t-shirt,” you smiled. You went to his dresser and opened a drawer, pulling out an old Hellfire shirt. “Perfect!”
Eddie was frozen as you took off to the bathroom with his shirt. You were going to sleep in just the shirt? In his bed? With him? He half expected you to kick him out and make him sleep on the couch, but when you came back dressed in nothing but his oversized shirt and your panties, dropping down into his bed and looking at him expectantly - he realized this was really happening.
Eddie stripped down to his boxers and flipped the light switch, climbing into the bed next to you. He could feel the warmth of your body against his. He’d never been so close to a girl before, and it was setting his body alight, every nerve ending on fire.
He closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. But then you turned over, eyes closed, and threw your leg over his. Your knee brushed against his cock and despite his best efforts it came stirring to life again, right against your leg.
He tried to adjust you, to move your leg away from his growing problem, but every time he’d try you’d grumble in your sleep and move it back. The brushing against his dick was exacerbating the problem quickly, and he was terrified by the very real possibility that you were going to wake up to find him rock hard right next to you.
He thought of everything to bring his boner down - all kinds of non-sexy thoughts running through his mind. But you were still there, right on top of him, and oh god-
“Eddie?” you said sleepily. “Oh shit, I’m sorry.”
You moved your leg to remove it from his waist, but you hit something hard instead. Eddie involuntarily groaned at the sudden sensation, then quickly covered his face with his hands.
“Fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know why that’s happening, I just- you’re so-“ Eddie stopped himself before he could put his foot in his mouth any more than it already was.
“I’m just so what?” you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice that almost made him think you were enjoying this.
“Please forget I said anything,” Eddie begged, utterly humiliated. “Seriously, I don’t want this to ruin our friendship.”
“Why would it ruin our friendship?” you asked, running your fingernails up his bare chest. He shivered beneath your touch.
“Because- because you don’t like me back like that?” he said, suddenly unsure with the way you were touching him, maybe even…flirting?
“Says who?”
Eddie swallowed. “I- I don’t know.”
Your hand drifted lower until it was brushing over his erection, and Eddie was in the palm of your hand, literally and figuratively. He groaned, covering his eyes with his arm. “What are you doing t’me?”
“Making you feel good, it looks like,” you said. He could hear the smirk in your voice, and it only made him ache even more. You wrapped your hand around his clothed cock and squeezed it, making him whine.
“You like that?” you whispered. Eddie nodded quickly, don’t stop, please don’t ever stop-
You removed your hand. Eddie uncovered his eyes to look at you, to ask why you’d stopped, when he saw you reach for the waistband of his boxers and pull them down enough to release his cock.
“Hah-“ Eddie breathed a strangled moan as you touched his bare cock for the first time, twitching hard in your hand, like it was begging you to do more. “Fuck-!”
“It’s so pretty,” you mused, watching your hand work him up. He was growing even harder from your touch, his tip flushed red and leaking. Eddie whined again, canting his hips up into your hand. “Use your words, Eddie.”
“Please,” he gasped. “Don’t stop, please, keep going. Feels so good.”
You couldn’t help but smirk when he was begging you like that, so desperate for more of you. “Have you ever done this before?”
“No,” he admitted easily, his mind already gone to the feeling of your hand between his legs. “Never.”
“Do you want to kiss me?”
His eyes popped open. “W-What?”
“Do you want to kiss me?” you asked again, the soft smile on your lips all he could stare at.
“So bad,” he groaned. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his and his hand immediately tangled in your hair, holding your face close to his. He kissed you like he’d seen people kiss in the movies, all tongue and lips and passion. It surprised you, and you found yourself moaning into it, speeding up your hand on his cock.
“Can I have you?” he asked, looking up at you with those big innocent yet hungry eyes. “Please. Need you so bad. I can’t take it anymore.”
“You can have me,” you promised him, sinking back into his kiss. “You can have all of me.”
Eddie’s hand slid up your oversized t-shirt, feeling the soft skin of your sides and stomach, the smooth roundness of your breasts. His thumb brushed over the hardened peak of your nipple, making you let out the most delicious little moan into his mouth. He took the opportunity to lick against your tongue, tasting you.
“Your body is incredible,” Eddie muttered against your lips. “So fucking hot.” His large hands trailed to your back, feeling the skin there before dropping down to grip your ass, hardly covered by your panties at all. It was all too much for Eddie, he was worried he was going to bust right then and there.
“Need you now,” he growled, rolling you over so he was between your legs. His boxers were pushed down just enough to reveal his aching cock, your t-shirt pushed up over your tits. He slipped his hands beneath your panties and pulled them down, tossing them onto his floor.
“I don’t have a condom,” he said just as he lined himself up at your entrance. “Shit.”
“It’s okay,” you assured him. “I still want it.”
His resolve was so weakened by that point, he didn’t care about the potential consequences. He dragged his cock through your folds, feeling your wetness. His tip pressed against your hole, and you drew in a sharp breath.
“S’big,” you mumbled, which just made Eddie’s chest swell with pride.
“Yeah, baby?” He kissed your neck, biting down and sucking hard, leaving a mark. He wanted everyone at school tomorrow to know who had fucked you.
“Yeah,” you said softly, the word turning to a whine as Eddie pushed inside of you. The stretch was more than you imagined, more full than you’d ever felt.
“Oh, christ,” Eddie moaned, feeling his cock fully enveloped by your pussy for the first time. It was like heaven. Eddie had never felt anything so incredible in his life, the perfect, tight heat of your cunt surrounding him sending his mind reeling.
“Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please fuck me.”
You didn’t have to tell him twice. He pulled his hips back, leaving only his tip inside. He rolled his hips into you, sinking all the way back inside, and he moaned like he never wanted to feel anything else for the rest of his life.
Eddie set a comfortable pace, nothing too fast yet because he wanted to enjoy it and not cum in 2 seconds. A nice, steady, slow pace, pressing so deeply into you every time he thrusted in that it felt like you could feel him everywhere.
“Jesus, baby,” he moaned as he fucked you slow and deep, his face buried in your neck. “You’re so tight. I can’t believe how fuckin’ tight you are. I never knew it would feel this fuckin’ good.”
“Want more, Eddie,” you begged. “Please.”
Eddie increased the speed of his hips, the slap slap slapping sound getting louder in the small trailer as he fucked himself into you deeper and faster. His hips were pounding into you at a desperate pace, his old bed creaking, headboard thudding into the wall, leaving chips in the paint.
Liquid heat spread throughout his body, from his core through every limb. His thighs trembled as he neared his orgasm, your pussy tightening around him in a way that had him seeing stars.
“‘m close, Eddie,” you moaned. “Gonna cum all over your cock.”
“Yeah baby, that’s it. Show me. Show me how good my cock makes you feel.”
You guided one of his hands down between your bodies to press against your clit. He got the message quickly, rubbing circles on it, building you higher and higher. You felt yourself climbing, nearly there-
You came around him hard, pussy throbbing around him as you drained his cock for every drop. Your orgasm set his own off, and he was pumping his load into you, your greedy pussy begging him for more, wanting everything he had to give.
Eddie pumped his hips into you until there was nothing left, until you were both too sensitive to do anything more. He pulled out of you and laid on the bed, an arm out for you to cuddle into. You took the invitation, cuddling against his sweaty body.
“You know how you were worried it would change things between us?” you asked quietly, only over the sound of both of your breathing.
“Yeah?” Eddie said. “What about it?”
“Maybe it should change things between us. I don’t know if I want to be your friend anymore.”
Eddie furrowed his brows. “What?”
“Maybe,” you said, “I want to be more.”
“What? Like…you wanna be my girlfriend?”
“Is that what you want?” You felt anxiety for the first time that night, realizing that Eddie might not feel the same. That this might have really been just a casual fuck for him.
“Fuck yeah, that’s what I want,” Eddie said, laughing. “Will you? Be my girlfriend?”
“Yes, Eddie Munson,” you giggled. “I will be your girlfriend.”
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Wally all greasy and in those blue jumpsuits 🤤🤤🤤
summary: prompt fill. the journey of a clandestine love affair at several stages because Wally Clark craves what he can't have and refuses to keep his hands to himself. and you live for it.
pairing: grey!Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: smut. AU - modern setting. romanticized toxic behavior. cheating. cybersex. spit as lube. egregious use of the word 'baby'.
bon reading, frens
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Alphabet Soup - V
V is for Wally's very inappropriate use of company time. Bud Binns, grandson and owner of Reggie's Auto Repair, is in the garage, under the belly of another vintage car, hard at work and none the wiser.
The expo's in town, part of Split River's annual autumn fair that celebrates community spirit and agriculture. Wally couldn't give less of a shit, but car enthusiasts from orbiting towns have descended in droves and Wally likes the money. He's been up to his elbows in grease and oil since Monday; no time for himself. For homework. For football. For you.
He deserves every break he takes and Bud, so grateful for Wally volunteering his valuable time, shoos him to the break room with a gruff, "ya got fifteen minutes, kid." And, taking full advantage of the windowless room with the lock, Wally hunkers down on the couch and video calls you. He's pent up and frustrated and misses the way his name sounds when you moan it.
You answer after two rings, either having anticipated him or missing him, too, as you're wearing the wine-colored lace set that makes his mouth water. Barely-there bra, crotchless panties, stockings that bulge the flesh of your thighs above the band and make Wally's cock twitch. Your phone already set in the tripod Wally sent you from Amazon for exactly this reason.
"Hey, baby," He purrs, undoes his jeans onehanded, and cups himself. Legs spread wide. Massages his balls as he watches your body arch and curve while you ride the mount he slipped into your room when Janet wasn't looking. The dildo isn't as girthy as he is, but he doesn't want it to be—calling the shots for what toys you buy because he's got a thing about being the biggest cock to stuff your cunt. "You miss me that bad, huh, sweet girl?"
You moan, cheeks cherry red, plush lips parted around his name, a vision of hot desperation for him.
"What are you thinking about, baby?" He wants to know, cock hardening in his hand as he watches you sink and lift on the dildo. "You thinking about how good I make you feel?"
"I always think of you, Wally," And, fuck, yeah, that's it, pretty girl, show Wally how you like to be fucked. "Only you."
Wally leans into the back of the couch, holding himself, not ready to give in to his need just yet. "What're you thinking about, baby? Tell me what you're picturing. Tell me what you want me to do to you."
He swallows hard when you start describing the fantasy, your tits bouncing as you begin to ride the toy harder, faster, then slow and sensual, leaning back to show off where the dildo disappears inside you. His mouth goes dry as you move, his voice tense when he murmurs, dark and rough, "You like thinking about the way I feel inside you, baby girl? You think of it a lot, don't you?"
Grits his teeth, groans quietly, closing his eyes for a few seconds to rein his control. His cock throbs in his hand, flushed and dribbling; fuck, you're slutty little noises, the way your body moves like liquid metal, "Say my name again, baby. Just like that." And, finally, he spits in his hand and teases over the tip, uses pre to slick himself up so he can fuck his fist how he wants to fuck you. He hisses, a hot shiver running through him; that intense, euphoric flush through his entire body. The way you say his name drives him insane.
It's—fuck, God—it's so good. His eyes are glued to the screen, to you, to your hips, your tits, your face. Every sound you release makes his jaw tick as he loses himself.
"Need you so bad, Wally," You whine in pleasure, reaching for something offscreen. A buzz. A gasp. Holding the vibe against your clit as you bounce on the dildo. He can hear the juicy squelch of your pussy around the toy and he groans, eyes rolling back, skin tingling.
"Fuck, baby, your pussy's so wet for me." Wally licks his lips, eyes heavy and eclipsed with desire, "Show me how pretty you are when you come for me, baby."
You keen, "Wish it was you, Wally." His mind goes fucking blue screen when you choke, "You'd make me come so hard..."
"Yeah?" He pants, his hand moving faster, "You want me to make you come, sweet girl?"
He watches you watch him, sees how needy you are for his cock, and a smile flickers across his face. His head is swimming, chest heaving, so ready to come just from watching you, but he tries to hold it together, tries not to succumb to the urge. Not yet. Not until you do.
"Yeah...fuck, that's it. Ride it, baby..." Wally's flushed, head starting to spin. From the need, from wanting you, from how fucking good you are for him, his perfect little porn star. Oh, God, he hears a whimper, a moan, your body trembling as you cry out. A hushed groan, "Yeah? Are you coming for me, baby?"
And you shake, head tossed back, body rigid except your hips which grind the dildo inside you as you come apart. He strips his cock faster as he watches you, has to close his eyes, shit, he's so close, he just needs—
"Say it again, baby... I'm so close... Say it again. Say my name..."
You do, a sweet, breathy sob forming the syllables that send him crashing over the edge. Comes all over his fist, groan ripped from his chest, head falling back against the couch, holy fuck, baby girl, he already can't wait to do that again.
"My perfect girl," He praises between breaths and slopes you a lazy, satisfied smile.
But there's no time to bask in the afterglow, his fifteen minutes done, and he needs to get back to work before Bud comes looking. He ends the call with a promise to Snap later, it'll be worth it, baby. Stay up, okay?
Wally washes his hands, fixes his jeans, and saunters into the garage in the best mood he's been in all week.
🧿___________________________
MASTERLIST
also available on AO3!
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z
This. I . Need.
( SLEEPY I LOVE YOU'S )
you were laying next to rafe, snuggled under the covers in the bed you both shared since he started sleeping at your apartment.
it was three o'clock in the morning. you should've been in a deep slumber by now, but it was rare for him to have fallen asleep before you.
he was snoring softly, mouth slightly open as you took this time to admire him.
the seemingly permanent worry lines on rafe's tanned face. how his soft skin was marked with barely noticeable scars. the way frowned in his sleep like his dreams were anything but sweet.
moonlight was pouring in from a small gap in the curtains hanging up at your bedroom window, illuminating his face in a way that made him look angelic.
reaching forward, you grazed your fingers as delicately as you could against his cheek so you didn't wake him.
your mind drifted off, enjoying the sweet moment that you you were caught in.
suddenly, rafe opened his eyes and you wasted no time in snatching your hand away from his face.
"eye fucking me while i'm asleep, angel? sexy" he croaked, voice heavy with sleep.
he never missed a single thing. you couldn't get away with doing anything cute, even when he was unconscious.
"thought you were asleep" you mumbled, face warming in something close to embarrassment.
rafe smirked smugly, knowing he had you caught. his eyes quickly started to flutter closed once again as sleep pulled him back under.
"love you" he mumbled incoherently, wrapping his big arm around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, his face buried in your neck.
rafe just told you that he loved you. he had never said that before.
you stayed quiet as his breathing evened out, not knowing what to say because you didn't expect that in the slightest.
his hot breath was against your neck, cuddling into you as he was lulled back to sleep.
"i love you too" you whispered in rafe's ear, not caring at all if it woke him up.
your eyes started fall closed, your body feeling heavy with sleep. you caught the smile that flashed on his face as you both faded away.
A blog purely for me to reblog spicy things! And maybe write spicy things?
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