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. egregious use of the word 'baby'.
bon reading, frens
___________________________🧿
Alphabet Soup - U
U is for uh-oh, oops, and oh no. Even if it isn't Wally's fault, having become more and more unhinged as things between you and him unfold into something so perfect and permanent, Wally thinks he's died and gone to heaven.
He's caught with his head buried between your thighs, his chin and mouth shiny with your juices. He licks his lips, unbothered, raises a brow at Janet as she stands there wearing the ugliest scowl Wally has ever seen on her face, her body vibrating with unfettered rage. He sits back, naked and on display, lazily stroking his cock with pride in his eyes.
"Get out," He tells her calmly, and she closes door behind her because what the fuck else is she going to do? Watch? Wally slants his head toward you, smirking, crawling up your body to kiss you with unbridled passion, grinding his cock between your wet folds to coax you back into the right headspace. "Don't worry, baby," He coos, "She's gone." Since you can't see from under the blindfold, your wrists bound to his headboard.
You whimper, clearly unnerved by Janet's intrusion despite not having seen or heard her, the bitch wielding feline grace when it suits her. She isn't supposed to be at Wally's house, in his apartment above his family's garage. Janet was in the throes of organizing prom with the rest of the committee and wasn't due to meet him until tomorrow morning for another rundown of their court dance. Smile, wave, make a dumb speech thanking everyone for their votes. Blah blah blah, Wally doesn't care.
He's been on her shitlist since last week, anyway, so what's another nail in the coffin? He actually feels relieved that Janet discovered you and him. It gets him hotter, harder, more desperate for you, because now he isn't shackled to late nights and impromptu weekends alone. Wally can have you whenever he fucking wants. Which has steadily turned into always over the course of the year.
And, wow, has it really been that long?
He knows Janet hasn't left, doesn't hear her car pull out of the drive, so he greedily, selfishly, shamelessly eats your cunt like a Michelin Star meal. Tongue probing your pussy as he moans at how good you taste, his eyes rolling back in his head from it, and the whole time you're keening and crying out and begging him not to stop, oh fuck Wally, I'm so close, please please. Don't worry, baby, he loves this probably more than you do.
When you come, shouting his name for Janet to hear what she never had a chance in hell to get from him, Wally fucks you like reckoning. Paints your chest and belly like a Jackson Pollock before he releases your wrists and soothes you with affection. As you doze, he tucks you in, kisses your hair, vows to be back in five minutes, dons a pair of low-slung sweats and a smug grin as he lopes out of the room, down the stairs, and meets Janet outside the door.
"Something I can do for you?" He asks, obviously unruffled which just drives Janet fucking nuts.
She wants an apology.
Wally laughs in her face, "For what? It's not like I'm really cheating on you."
She wants an explanation.
Wally snorts, "I don't owe you shit." He doesn't. Janet was never his girlfriend. She was never anything. A pest at most, an inconvenience at least.
"You don't get to have her." Janet seethes as if she has some kind of say in it.
Again, Wally laughs, shakes his head, tells her where to go as impolitely as he can. "She's already mine," He states, breezy, sucking the fingers he fucked you with to stress the point. Janet has a prima donna meltdown right there on his parents' lawn, stomps her foot and positions herself to slap him. He catches her wrist easily, stares her dead in the eyes, "You jealous, Janet?"
He fondles himself, pushes her arm away and grins, "Is this what you wanted?" Then he glances to his window, slides his gaze back to her, chuckling darkly, "Or is it her?" She doesn't answer, her face flaming, brows knitted, jaw clenched, "Is that why you wanted me to stay away from her? Because you wanted her all to yourself?"
"Shut the fuck up, Clark," Janet growls.
Wally knows it's not true; he's merely enjoying himself. He knows that Janet is actually just jealous of you, not because she wants to be with you but because she wants to be you. It's been obvious since Day One of their stupid arrangement. Everything Janet did was an underhanded plot to shrink you down as small as Janet feels.
"I'll show her the video." Janet threatens, voice low and menacing, full of umbrage. "She'll never look at you again."
In an instant, Wally's in her space, fire in his eyes, "I fucking dare you."
He hasn't exactly planned for this, but he's tired of worrying about it. If you walk away, you walk away—Wally's heart stutters—at least he has enough spank bank material to last decades. A blessing since he doesn't think he could get it up for anyone else ever. Thank Christ he saved every picture and video and voice note you've ever sent him.
"I'll make sure you lose Prom King," Janet sneers and, again, he snorts.
"I don't think I could care less," and, taking stock of himself, Wally finds that to be true. "It's just high school, Janet. Get a fucking hobby."
He hears the stairs creak, your honeyed voice from behind him wondering, "What's going on?" and he turns and saunters toward you without a second thought, bundles you into his arms, reveling at how you drown in his football jersey.
"You should go back inside, baby," He says even as he kisses you, soft, warm; hands groping your ass through the polyester. "Don't want my neighbors getting a peek at what's mine," he pecks the tip of your nose and gives you a humble smile that still feels a bit unnatural on his face.
It's then that Janet does the dumbest thing she could think of. She lunges at you while you're still in Wally's arms. A rapid badger fueled by envy. Wally pivots you to safety, blocks Janet's feeble attempts to get at you with his body. She loses steam pretty quickly when Wally doesn't budge.
Janet drives into the sunset with a promise to rat you out. To your mom first and then your dad. You look confused, "Why should I care?" You ask her retreating back, inviting her to go ahead because you've wanted everything out in the open since you and Wally started fucking that fateful afternoon after Janet's pool party.
Later, between dinner with his parents and Avengers: Infinity War on the projector in his apartment, Wally feels a weight lift off his shoulders. No more Janet. No more sneaking around. No more yearning and missed opportunities and bullshit. Just you. Just him. Together for real.
He combs his fingers through your hair as you lounge, draped along his front between his legs, head on his chest, breathing deep in sleep, and Wally realizes for the first time that, despite being free to do whatever he wants now, he still chooses you.
What the hell have you done to me, baby?
Still, his arms tighten around you and he doesn't let you go until it's time to get ready for school.
🧿___________________________
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
Sub!Simon Elroy x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Porn with the tiniest speck of plot, Obviously smut, Edging, Overstimulation, Dacryphilia.
Your hand was wrapped around the base of Simon's cock, moving with slow strokes that made his brain melt as desperate whines fell from his lips.
He was laid back on a bed that belonged to whoever's house you were in, while you sat on his thigh, having a perfect view of his face. You had dragged him to a random party, convincing him that it was gonna be fun. Dancing, karaoke, and a few drinks. That was all it was supposed to be.
But the way you bumped and grinded on him in front of everyone drove him crazy. The tightening in his pants becoming almost unbearable. His hands digging into your hips, dragging you off into a random room.
He couldn't help it, he needed you. The buzzing in his head from the few shots you convinced him to take made him not care where you were, the only thought occupying his mind was the way you made him feel with something as simple as your hand.
His tip had grown from a light brownish pink to a deep red, precum leaking from the angry head due to the amount of time you had brought him almost to his peak and denied him the pleasure of release.
"Baby" a deep whine left his lips. "Please" He reached out to grab your hand but you pushed him away, giving him a stern look as he let out a sob.
You lightly slapped his cock making him jump, another quiet sob racking his body.
"you wanna cum?" Fake sympathy laced your voice, a mocking pout forming on your lips. He nodded vigorously, body shaking slightly with the force of his movement. "Words." A rule you had made a while back, no words, no release.
"Yes! Yes, please" His words were jumbled, strewned together through ragged breaths and quiet cries. "Need it" The pout that decorated his face and his teary brown eyes are what made you give in.
Without a word you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock for the millionth time tonight and delivered hard fast strokes. Desperate cries left his lips, throwing his head back as he screwed his eyes shut.
Your free hand reached up, grabbing his jaw and angled it towards you. "No, look at me baby." Your voice was gentle. You saw his lip quiver, it took everything in him to force his eyes open. A far away fucked out look filling them.
You leaned in, giving a soft gentle kiss before pulling away, a huge smile on your face. "You're so fucking pretty when you cry." The praise is what pushed him over the edge. Thick, hot ropes of cum covering your hand as you worked him through his orgasm. His desperate cries, hopefully being covered by the music playing downstairs, filled the room.
After his body finally relaxed, limbs turning into jello beneath you, your hand unwrapped from around his cock, whipping it off on the strangers sheets.
You leaned your forehead against his, pecking his lips softly. "You did so good for me baby." You could still hear the music playing downstairs as Simon slowly drifted off to sleep.
when she says she doesn’t send nudes
Rafah? As in the "Evacuate here, it's a safe spot while we bomb the rest of Palestine" Rafah? The Rafah that most of the remaining Palestinians have been forcibly packed into as a supposed safe zone? That Rafah?
How people can still deny a genocide is beyond me
show it some love yall
Summary: You confront your scar. Word Count: 2k Author's Note: This chapter contains bullying and how reader died as a result of that bullying. Read On AO3 // Part One // Part Two // Part Three
You hesitated once you stepped into the bathroom, keeping your back pressed to the closed door behind you. Everything was washed in a red glow that lent an eeriness to the scene before you.
You gripped your jacket tight in your hands before slipping it on. You figured you didn't want to risk dropping it even if it would make things harder on you later. You took a deep breath and forced yourself forward.
The smell of cigarette smoke stopped you in your tracks.
"What are you doing in here, freak?"
You closed your eyes, taking a moment to try to center yourself. You hadn't heard that voice since you were alive.
"Well? You going to stand there all day with that stupid look on your face?"
You shook your head, taking another step into the bathroom. It gave you a better view of her. The one who had killed you. The one who had ripped everything away from you, leaving you to haunt the school forever.
You knew how this was all going to play out. The girl who had bullied you mercilessly for years would end up being your downfall. You should have never stepped foot in this bathroom.
She was leaning against the wall by the window. She had managed to crack it open and was letting smoke drift outside. It did nothing to cover the smell.
"God, look at you. What a fucking idiot," she sneered before tapping her cigarette against the windowsill.
You could feel panic building inside you. Your hands were shaking and you felt like you were frozen to the spot.
After you died, she had been expelled. You never had to see her again. But now here she was, ready to kill you all over again.
"You're such a waste of space, you know that? It'd be better if you never existed."
You didn't know how to react to the words. Those weren't the same ones she spat at you the day you died. She was going off-script, which terrified you even more. Anything could happen now.
"You can't even speak, huh?" She asked, finally dropping her cigarette to the floor and crushing it beneath her boot heel. "Got nothing to say to me?"
You didn't know how to speak. All you could think about was where this confrontation was heading and you didn't want to experience it all over again. You had been stupid to let your jealousy and insecurity drive you into this.
She started approaching you and you felt like you were going to throw up.
"Y/N!" You heard a faint voice call your name. "Can you hear me?"
You briefly turned towards the bathroom door, shocked to hear the muffled voice of Wally. He sounded far away and not like he was right on the other side of the door. But you could still hear him.
Turning your attention away from her had been a mistake. Before you knew it, there was a harsh grip on your arm and you were being backed up into the wall beside the sinks.
"I think," she started before popping a piece of gum into her mouth. "That this place would be a lot better without you here." She reached out and gripped your face tight, leaving the sting of her nails biting into your skin. She smacked her gum and grinned at you. "You got anything to say to that, freak? Or are you just going to stare at me?"
You wanted to say or do anything, but you felt like you were frozen with fear.
"Y/N, get out of there! Just come on. Please," you heard Wally beg.
"You paying attention to me?" She wondered, pulling her hand back and slapping you.
It jarred you out of your daze, leaving you to bring a hand up to cover your cheek.
"I don't know why you wanted to do this, but please just come out. I'm right here for you. I'm not going anywhere."
"You're so pathetic. No one's ever going to want such a freak, you know that, right? You're gonna be alone forever."
"Please, babe," Wally pleaded, his voice wavering. "You don't need to do this. You don't need to relive it."
You couldn't help but think about how Wally only pulled out the 'babe' pet name when he was really stressed about something.
Another slap before she gripped your chin again, forcing you to look at her.
"I should have made you eat that cigarette. Got a light? Maybe I can put this one out on that stupid jacket you love so much."
You could hear someone pounding on the door now. It sounded as if someone was throwing themselves against it, attempting to break it down.
"Whatever's going on in there, it's not real. You are real. You don't deserve whatever's happening," Wally continued to try to get through to you. He was out there doing his damnedest to break into your scar just to save you. You didn't know how you could have ever thought that Wally didn't want you anymore.
"Or maybe," she continued, voice low, "I can stick it in your eye. Maybe that way you won't have to see how much we all hate you."
You felt stuck between her disdain and Wally's desperation. It wasn't until you noticed her reaching for her pocket and slipping out a cigarette that you knew things were about to get worse.
Suddenly, all you wanted was Wally and the promise of safety he offered. You used her distraction of lighting up again to rush past her, making for the bathroom door.
"Where the hell do you think you're going?" She growled before you felt a hand tuck into the back collar of your jacket and pull.
You knew what happened next, but you still weren't prepared for the fall. It felt endless as you struggled to stay upright, helpless against the pull of gravity. And then your head connected with the edge of the sink and you were on the floor.
You stared up at the ceiling in a daze, because you didn't make it this far the first time. It was over before you could even hit the tiles. This was new territory and you didn’t know how to continue from here.
You managed to push yourself to your feet and glanced down.
Your body was on the floor. You were staring up at the ceiling, but you weren't blinking. You weren't even moving. There was a pool of blood forming beneath your head and your neck was bent at an unnatural angle and you couldn't take it anymore.
You felt like there was something sharp twisting in your gut. You had never thought about what you might have looked like on that bathroom floor. Dead. Unresponsive. Gone forever.
"What are you doing in here, freak?" She asked again and when you looked up, she was back over by the window, smoking.
You glanced down at the floor, but your body was still there. The scene had reset, but the reminder of how all of this played out was staring sightlessly up at you.
"Babe? Babe!" Wally was calling, still trying to break down the door.
You felt a sob catch in your throat before you were throwing yourself at the bathroom door. You were so sure she was chasing you, intent on dragging you back down into the depths of your personal hell, but you didn't dare look back. You managed to open the door and slam it closed behind you.
Wally was standing just in front of you. You weren't sure what he saw on your face, but the way his expression twisted from concern to horror had you feeling like someone had reached right inside your chest and was trying to tear out your heart. You ripped your denim jacket off and flung it down the hallway, never wanting to see it again.
You threw yourself at Wally, taking both of you down to the floor. Wally had managed to sit up and you clung to him like he was your own personal savior. Your face was pressed to the crook of his neck and your arms were wrapped tight around his waist.
He brought a hand up and smoothed it down your back.
"I'm here," he promised. "I'm not going anywhere. You're safe. You're out."
You weren't sure how long you sat there on the floor with Wally. At some point, he had begun to gently rock the both of you from side to side, his touch attempting to calm you as he whispered soothing words in your ear. His lips were brushing the shell of your ear and his hands were running along your back and sides and any part of you he could reach like he was trying to convince himself you were really there.
"It was horrible," you finally muttered into his skin. "I was so stupid."
"You're not stupid," Wally argued. "But why did you do that? You know how terrified I was seeing you walk in there?"
"So stupid," you repeated before finally pulling away enough to meet Wally's eyes. "I saw you and Maddie in the pool."
Wally's brow furrowed in confusion. "And that made you want to visit your scar?"
"I thought you and Maddie...," you trailed off, not knowing how to continue. "I was jealous," you finally confessed. "And hurt. And stupid," you reiterated.
"Oh," Wally said before he seemed to realize what you weren't saying. "Oh," he breathed. "Maddie and I were just goofing off. She needed a friend and I was being a friend. I didn’t mean it any other way."
"I think I get that now," you sheepishly admitted. Wally had been trying to break into your scar just to drag you out. He was holding on to you now like you were the most important person to him and he was afraid you were going to slip away again. He looked at you like you were his everything.
"No, look," he insisted, bringing his hands up to frame your face in them. You nearly flinched, thinking about the last person who had held your face. She had only touched you with malice, but Wally’s touch only made you feel loved. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I would never in a million years ever want that and what we have is nothing like what I've got going on with Maddie or any of the others. You're the only one I've been kissing," he promised, his lips ticking up in a grin.
"Okay," you agreed with a small nod of your head.
"And I never want you to ever have to go back in there," he continued, glancing briefly at the bathroom door just over your shoulder.
“Even if it helps Maddie?” You couldn’t help but check.
“Never again,” Wally insisted, shaking his head. “You don’t know what that did to me. Seeing you walk in there. God, babe, I was so scared.”
Wally was looking at you like he thought you had died all over again. In some ways, you supposed that was true.
"I'm never going back in there," you promised him, hoping it was true. "It was--," you stopped before starting again. "And she--," you cut yourself off again. "It hurt," you finally settled on. It had also put things into perspective for you.
"It'll get better," Wally promised. "I'm here for you and our friends are here for you too. I'm not saying you won't ever think about it again, but I'll do my best to distract you."
You let your forehead rest against Wally's, taking a moment to simply look at him. The whole night had been a real rollercoaster of emotion and now you felt exhausted. There was really only one thing you wanted at the moment and that was Wally.
So, you moved to stand up, reaching down to help him to his feet.
"Want to pay another visit to the tech booth?" You asked, hoping he knew what you were really asking.
The tech booth offered privacy and a comfortable couch and a place to revisit better memories. All it needed now was you and Wally.
Wally grinned before placing a brief kiss to your lips.
"Hell yeah," he agreed, reaching down and taking your hand in his. "I go where you go. Let's get the hell out of here." Taglist: @morallygrayboys @loudtalehologram @hey-its-roseaurum @doves1120 @benjiiiisstuff
Author's Note: So, the next chapter is already written! It's this chapter but from Wally's POV, because I wanted to show what he was going through during this. It'll be posted next Wednesday or Thursday! If you want to be tagged, just let me know!
Keep reading
(Once again another mini one-shot that fell victim to being in my drafts for over a year because I used to not have the balls to post my writing. I fixed it up a bit because I was in highschool when I wrote this. I've been wanting to write for Ben Plunkett a lot more and I found this and thought it was fitting. Enjoy)
Ben Plunkett x reader
Warnings: Fluff. Like I said I wrote this during my last year of highschool and it was basically to help me cope with the fact that I was lost in French so yeah... Shitty French
You and Ben sat on his bedroom floor, textbooks and assignments all laid out in front of you. This was what every Monday afternoon for the past 6 months has looked like. It was his way of trying to help you plan better, knowing what assignments were due and helping you study for them.
Sweet as always. You two had started seeing each other at the beginning of the year after his best friend Mandy introduced you to him. A tall, awkward, kind eyed boy who didn't realize he was hot. And after 3 long grueling months of trying to throw hints at him you finally realized you were gonna have to be the one to ask him out.
It was adorable, seeing the way his entire body basically blushed, stuttering over his words. Somehow he managed to spit out a confused, nervous 'yes' that made you giggle.
It was simple, you went out for coffee, talked and giggled, then he dropped you off at home with a goodbye. Somehow you ended up here with your favorite boy in the world.
"I haven't paid attention to Madame McBaily since French 1" You grond as you realized you were completely lost.
"How the hell are you already in French 3?" He gave you a confused but kinda impressed look.
"That's the thing, I have no clue. Somehow I just slipped under her radar." The magic of somehow guessing everything right.
"You have to know something." He was really trying to help you study but sadly hes taking Spanish so he doesn't know much more than you do.
"Ja'mappelle" your name rolled off your tongue. "Comment sa va, Ja dix-sept anz" he looked at you expectingly, like he was waiting for you to finish. "Yeah that's all I got"
He laughed, rolling his eyes. "3 French classes and thats all you've learned."
"Chat" You smiled at him, hoping that it would somehow help.
"Not much better" He giggled at your poor attempt at french as you grond. Crawling over to him, you wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest.
"I'm gonna fail this class." You whined as he wrapped his arms around you.
"No you're not. You've made it this far..... Somehow" The last part was whispered under his breath. You playfully slapped him on the shoulder, still not pulling away from him.
"I heard that" He laughed once again, light and airy. You'd get back to studying later, for now it was just the two of you, cuddled up, forgetting about that fact that you're probably gonna fail your french quiz.
summary: prompt fill. on the verge of an anxiety attack, Wally calls in reinforcements. you. the only person in the world who knows exactly what he needs. (request)
pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader
warnings: fluff. smut lite. flashfic. sub-adjacent!Wally Clark. mild anxiety attack. Wally Clark is a whiny lil' babe when he's desperate.
bon reading, frens
___________________________🍋🟩
Anxiety 2
"Hey, pretty boy, you okay?"
Thank fuck you answer on the first ring because, no, Wally isn't okay. His skin is too tight, his lungs won't inflate, he has pins and needles in his blood, and he can't calm down long enough to make his room stop spinning.
"No." It's wrenched out of him.
He lies on his bed, arm over his eyes, trying to breathe. Football practice was hell today, coach giving him a hard time for mistakes another player made like it's Wally's job to shoulder everyone's shortcomings.
"I can't...baby, I need to see you, please," And he knows it's a bad time, but, please, he just needs to feel you long enough to settle his brain for a minute.
Wally hates Tuesdays as much as he does most weekdays. School doesn't help, but you have Art Club and then family dinner and then a whole routine you enjoy mapped out for every Tuesday for forever. Your time. Not for anyone else. And, he swears, he wouldn't interrupt unless it's important.
He hears fabric rustle on the other end of the line before your voice filters through the speaker, "You need me to talk you through it?"
"No." He says, scratchy.
"Do you need me to distract you with a story?"
And he fucking whimpers, because that's not the answer either.
"Do you want me to just stay on the line and you can vent?"
"No, baby, I—" Don't want to tell you how desperate he is for your presence. Needs it like the oxygen he can't seem to suck into his lungs. "Never mind."
You make a noise of disapproval, "Oh, no, Wally, you're not doing that." Then, "Can you do something for me?"
Wally nods although he knows you can't see him.
"Can you get up and go to the bathroom?"
He does, following the order without resistance. He likes it when you order him around, take control so he doesn't have to think. He pads into the bathroom and stands there until you give him the next instruction.
"Good boy," You coo, and it sounds like you're outside now. He can't be sure, doesn't entirely have the capacity to pay attention, so he simply idles with the phone to his ear. "Turn on the water, Wally, nice and warm how you like it."
Again, he does as you order. He knows where this is going. A hot shower to calm his muscles. He sets his phone on the counter and strips. Doesn't hang up, needs to know you're there when he's done, but steps under the spray when steam starts to billow up.
It takes ten minutes before he's able to get out without black spots clouding his vision. His body is relaxed, but his head is still screaming at him to do something, keep busy, figure it out, don't just stand there—
He towels himself off, glances at the screen, and sighs in relief when he sees the call is still connected. In movements loose from a good shower, he lopes back to his room and pulls on a pair of clean boxers. Keeps his words to himself, not ready to talk yet, but makes sure you know he's still there and still needs you.
Just as he reaches for his sweatpants, he hears a knock at the front door. Blinking, he picks up his phone from his dresser to check the time.
Your voice through the phone, "You gonna let me in, cutie?"
Instantly, the remaining tension in his body releases. He hurries down the stairs two at a time, unsafe and unconcerned because you're there. Coming to the rescue. Showing up for him despite the meal he knows you're supposed to have with your parents in half an hour.
He swings the door open and yanks you into his body, holds you tight against his chest with his face in your neck.
"Thank you," He murmurs, tight, a little froggy.
Taking charge, you push him back inside and close the door behind you, grabbing his hand in yours to lead him back upstairs to his bedroom. Without so much as a hello, you get to work, shoving him into his desk chair while you set about changing his sheets.
No words are exchanged the whole time. He waits for you to finish, watches through desperate, puppysoft eyes, knee bouncing, as you strip to your underwear and t-shirt, and fold back the newly made cover.
You turn, smiling sweetly, give him a wink that signals he can get himself all over you now. He doesn't hesitate, crowds against your back when you turn around to face the bed, about to crawl in. He grabs you by the hips, pulls your ass back into the cradle of his pelvis, and has his lips on your neck so fast, it's like your skin is magnetized and his mouth is made of nickel.
"Silly boy," You breathe, melting into him, tilting your head to give him more access. "You couldn't wait until I got you into bed?"
Wally shakes his head against your neck, "Mm-mm," and continues to dot kisses along the tendon, all the way up to just below your ear. "Missed you too much," Even though he saw you right before football practice.
"Come on," You say, "Get in."
And he does as he's told. Pauses to let you climb in first, shuffle over to what he's designated as your side, under the covers and holding them up to invite him in beside you. He shuffles right into your space, arm fastened around your waist, head pillowed on your chest, breathing easier than he has in hours now that he can smell you, feel you, hear your heartbeat under his ear.
Your hand finds his hair, still damp from the shower. Fingers comb his scalp while you press little kisses along his hairline, forehead, temple. The last bit of anxiety dissipates under your attention, and finally, Wally can relax.
"You okay?" You whisper, hand stroking his back now.
He nods against you, nudges your jaw with his nose, silently requesting a kiss which you give him with a tender smile.
"You wanna have a nap?"
Wally thinks about it, realizes that, no, he isn't ready to sleep. Even for a short span, his brain isn't quiet enough. There's still a thread of restlessness under his skin he can't quite shake loose. He pouts at you, shakes his head, looking for all the world like a lost little boy who needs taking care of.
A knowing smile spreads on your face. You lean down and kiss him. Gentle. Soft. Innocent if Wally didn't know you better.
"Get on your back, baby," You tell him, already shifting.
He goes, breath hitching, cheeks heating, anticipating where you're going to go with this. You push his legs apart and settle between them, a gleam in your eye that ushers an almost soundless gasp from his throat. Hooking your fingers into his boxers, you peel them off his long legs and get back into position.
"You need me to take care of you?" You ask, serene, as if asking whether or not he wants a foot rub and not his cock sucked. "You want me to make your brain quiet, pretty boy?"
Wally nods, one, two curt movements, lips parting around a whimper as his eyes fall to half-mast. He watches you lick your lips, bow forward so beautifully that he wishes he could bottle an image, and then he feels you.
A long, wet stripe of your tongue along his flaccid cock before you take it in hand and lazily begin to stroke, your eyes intense and holding his.
Conversationally, "You want me to choke on you, baby?"
And, fuck. God. His mind short-circuits, goes totally offline for a moment that he doesn't even realize he answers with a punched-out, "Please."
"Lie down, baby, let me take care of you."
Then it's all hot, wet, tight. Sloppy at first, how he likes it. You use a firm grip to stroke in countermotion of your mouth, your tongue teasing the slit and the underside of his cockhead.
"Oh, fuck," He pants, legs spreading wider, the meat of his palms digging into his sockets as he tries not to come in under a minute. He wants to enjoy this, honest, but, fuck, you do that thing with your fist at the tip while sucking his balls and he can't fucking see.
You chuckle, sultry and smooth, then descend again, taking him in your throat and swallowing around him, moaning, kneading his inner thighs and massaging his balls gently with your thumbs until he starts choking out weak little sounds of pleasure.
"Oh God," He gasps wetly, "I'm gonna come, baby, oh fuck!"
But you don't let him, sliding off and rising to your knees. He whines, partially in frustration, partially desperation; both soon quelled when he feels the humid heat of your pussy hovering above him. You line him up, tease him through your folds.
"Want you to finish inside me, baby," You command, and then drop. Taking him in one swift movement that knocks a grunt right from his belly.
He clamps his hands on your hips and groans as you start to ride him, fast, not for your pleasure but his, giving him everything because you're amazing, oh God, you're perfect, so perfect, he can't—Jesus, he can't—oh fuck!
Wally comes with a strained sob of ecstasy, fingers digging into your flesh, eyes clenched shut, and head tipped back; cock pulsing inside you as he releases.
In the soft afterglow, he goes completely pliant, arms falling to his sides. He blinks up at you in awe, sleepy suddenly, brain emitting nothing but static. He gives you a lopsided smile that you return with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Pet his hair and roll to the side onto your back, encouraging him to cuddle into you like he was earlier.
Head on your chest again, he sighs in satisfaction, his leg hooked over your thighs as he clings to you like a limpet so you can't get away.
"Thank you, baby," He murmurs. "You're the best."
He hears you hum in acknowledgement. "You gonna nap for a bit now?"
He nods, trying to burrow deeper into your arms. The safest place in the world, he thinks, after how many times your embrace has saved him from himself.
"You want me to wake you up before I go?"
A noise of protest, his arm tightening around your waist.
You giggle, "You want me to sleep here tonight?"
He doesn't have to say anything for you to know his answer.
Not even a minute later, he's snoring softly, totally content and at peace with you in his bed.
🍋🟩___________fin.____________
Anxiety
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if you enjoyed this, you may also enjoy Simp..
a silly little subby Wally drabble because our clingy boo is fun to write.
Wally Clark x Gn!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Literally the whole plot is Wally gets his ass ate so do with that what you will. Readers a bit of an anxious bean. Unrealistic (because passion doesn't exist)
(Guys I've never written ass stuff 😭 I was trying to figure out what wording to use so it wouldn't sound repetitive. Sorry if it feels a little awkward.)
Wally’s never been shy when it comes to sex, always expressing his needs and deepest darkest desires but when you brought up a new topic, something he's never even thought about, it caught him off garde. You wanted to… Eat his ass? That was definitely a new one.
It wasn't that he was opposed to the idea, it just wasn't expected. He couldn’t lie, the thought made him a little excited, your tongue working overtime, exploring places he never thought it would go.
He watched you fiddle with the cuff of the sleeves of your (his) sweater, a nervous expression on your face as you awaited his answer. Your leg tapped in an anxious rhythm as you sat on the teachers lounge couch in front of him, his tall from standing over you. He sat down next to you, his hand sliding to your knee and rubbing slow circles into it with his thumb to calm you down.
“I would let you do unimaginable things to me.” His voice came out smooth, not having to think about his words, saying them like a proven fact. Hopefully after tonight they will be.
"oh" You didn't know what to say, how to go about things. It was such a new topic, something you fantasized about but couldn't bring yourself to tell him about. Somehow, some way, you worked up the courage.
That's how you ended up here, Wally laid out in front of you, on his hands and knees, completely bare. Your fingers ran gently up the back of his thighs making him shiver slightly. Your inexperienced hands moved along his body clumsily, moving up to cup his ass cheeks.
You heard Wally let out a nervous, anticipating, breath as you spread them open. With a shaky hand you let one of your fingers massage his puckered round of nerves. You heard him let out a quiet groan, letting you know that you're doing something right.
You bring your face down, gently licking his asshole, humming at the new, odd taste. Wally tensed as he took in a deep breath at the new sensation.
You took that as a sigh to keep going, tongue lapping until he turned into a pile of putty in front of you. Spit dripped all the way down and around to his balls. Your hand moved down, cupping them, making him let out a low groan.
It was filthy in the most beautiful way. Seeing Wally reduced to a groaning, moaning mess. His hands gripping the cushion under him for dear death. (I think I'm so funny)
Deep ragged breaths as you wrapped your hand around his shaft, gentle strokes to help bring him to the perfect place of ecstasy. Sweat dripped down the back of his knees, legs almost going numb.
You felt him tense up, taking a sharp breath before he let go. Thick, hot spurts of cum counting your hand and the couch. After a minute he sunk down, basking in the afterglow.
You crawled beside him, admiring his fucked out face as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.
Tags of shame for the freaks that told me to write this: @whoopsyeahokay @strwbrry-phrog @schoolspiritsfan14 @preparedfruit
(but like not really a tag of shame because I love y'all 💞)
bi, I like horror and art, I write sometimes when I feel like it, she/her, 18
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