Good Girl.

can someone fucking manhandle me already jfc

My chest literally hurts every time I think about Maddie leaving Wally. Fuck this show has me down bad. I feel like a kid.

Crybaby

NSFW

Summary: You are new to the afterlife and completely obsessed with Wally. What happens when he notices you staring at him all flustered?

Authors Note: We got approved for a season 3 babyyyyy! Hope you enjoy! -L

You had been going to sessions with Mr. Martin and crew for a few weeks. In those weeks you had made little to no progress. You couldn’t care less about an obituary or forgetting your past. You were busy ogling Wally any chance you got.

You were captivated by his big hands, his muscley thighs, his adorable smile, his ability to charm a brick wall, you could go on for ages. His entire being drew you in.

You were at a loss for words the day Wally pulled you aside to chat. He had usually always had at least one side kick with him if not more but today he walked away from them to catch you. “Hey, it’s Y/N right?” He shouted to get your attention. Your heart raced as you turned around. “Yea that’s me. You’re Wally right?” You asked as if he was a stranger and not something that lived in your brain.

His smile brightened at your voice. “Yea I’m Wally. Did anyone ever give you the full ghost tour?” He asked. You hadn’t really talked to any of the other ghost so you shook your head no. Wally wrapped an arm around your shoulders before guiding you through the school. He told you everything he knew.

You tried to absorb all the information you could but you were extremely distracted by the way he had you pulled into his side. The warmth that seeped through warming your skin. You felt like you fit perfectly against him.

He has shown you most of the school when he brought you to the auditorium. He mentioned the stage hand who died there before showing you the room under the stage. He told you how it had been a recent find of his. He was always looking for more.

Wally knew there was something different about you. He could feel your big doe eyes following his every move all the time. He thought it was adorable. The way your cheeks would heat anytime he caught you checking him out or when he’d catch you clenching your thighs while staring at his hands lost in thought.

He needed to know what would happen if he enticed you. What it would take to get you to let him make those doe eyes prickle with tears. Or to see how you would react to his hands holding those plush thighs apart.

Wally had noticed you on your first day. Had immediately felt your pull and attention on him. He was getting off on it. He’d stretch just far enough to flash his toned stomach and flex his hands when he saw you looking at them. He was feeding into your obsession. He was obsessed himself.

You walked away from him checking out the cozy room. You could feel his eyes following you as you moved about. Wally walked over to the couch and sat down legs spread in a dominant way. You turned around seeing how he sat as your mouth began to water at the thought of being between his legs.

“Come here.” His voice rough as he motioned with his finger where he wanted you. You shyly walked towards him positioning yourself to stand between his thighs. He smirked up at you before saying “I know you’ve been watching me Sweets.” His warm hand reached out brushing against your bare knee sending a cold chill up your spine.

You didn’t care that he noticed, you quirked your eyebrow up giving him a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders. His hands attached themselves right above the bend of your knee squeezing gently. He leans forward pressing a kiss to your thigh and mumbling “Don’t think I didn’t notice every time you’d squeeze these lovely thighs to give your sweet pussy some relief.” His tongue trailed half way up your thigh before blowing cold air on it causing a gasp to escape you.

Your mind was empty save for the sensation of him. He smirks up at your glossy eyes and dumbfounded look. He leans back on the couch before patting his lap. He lets out a chuckle as you clamber quickly onto him. Your knees resting on either side of his waist and hands resting on the top of your thighs awaiting your next instruction.

His gaze darkens at your obedience as he drags his rough hands up your thighs allowing your skirt to bunch up around your waist. You sigh softly loving his touch, your fingers twitch with anticipation at the thought of his skin under you. He lets out a raspy groan at the sight of the damp center of your lacy panties. He grunts out “Fuck you are so hot.” As his finger gently brushes against your clothed center. Your hips buck into his touch a sinful whimper leaving you as you grip his shoulders to steady yourself.

His eyes finally settle on your face gripping your chin making you look at him. He huffs out air before smashing his lips against yours. You kiss, tongues dancing and teeth nipping until you are out of breath. He grabs your hips dragging you closer so you feel his clothed cock settle against your throbbing center. You whine as he bucks his hips up softly giving you a lazy smirk before lifting you off his lap a pout gracing your face at the loss of sensation.

He sits you on your feet before his fingers dip into your panties pulling them off you before dragging his sweats and boxers off. He grabs your hips again pulling you back adjusting you till his cock rests between your wet folds. You cry out as his cock nudges your clit. He grabs your face roughly making you look at him before saying “I want you to grind your little clit on me until I can feel this sweet pussy dripping on me and then I’ll think about fucking you.” You nod dumbly up at him.

His hands rest back on your hips as you capture his lips against yours while you grind your pulsing clit on his thick cock. You shift your hips in a way that has his tip bumping your entrance pushing you closer to your climax. You grind harder as he pushes your shirt over your head and undoes your bra tossing it aside before latching his mouth on to your breast. His teeth graze your nipple causing your hips to stutter cumming on his cock.

You are so pleased with yourself until you look up. Wally looks livid. He wraps his hand around your throat tightly making you squeeze around nothing. “Did I fucking tell you that you could cum?” He voices raspy with anger. Your eyes fill with tears at the thought that he’s disappointed in you. Tears begin to fall as you shake your had no quickly.

“Awe.” He coos at you. “My little Crybaby.” He teases as his thumbs wipe your tears away. “I’m gonna fuck this sweet pussy even though you came without my permission but this time you better fucking ask.” He lifts you off him shoving your face down into the couch and lifting your hips so you are on your knees.

He smirks as you arch your back and spread your legs farther. His lips kiss your ass cheeks before pressing a quick kiss to your crying cunt. He hums as you cry out loving the taste of you. His hands grasp your hips pulling you back on to his cock. He watches as you take inch after inch small pants leaving your lips. Once he’s full inside of you he trails his hand up your spine before fisting your ponytail in his hand. He jerks you up the new angle making you moan out.

“What are you gonna do before you can come Sweets?” He whispers in your ear. Your mind short circuits at how deep he feels mixed with him pulling your hair. You forget how to speak just hanging there dumbly. He pulls out of you completely landing a harsh smack to your pussy. “Answer me now.” He grunts angrily. You stutter out “Ask for permission to cum.”

He thrusts into you bottoming out before he quickly slams in and out of you. His hand shoves your face into the couch to quiet your screams at his abuse of your pussy. “Fucking taking me so good, Crybaby. So fucking tight. Making a mess.” He snakes his hand around your hips to rub your clit in tight circles. You cry out so close to cumming as you muffledly beg into the couch to cum. “What was that? I didn’t hear you.” Wally teases meanly pounding into you harder and picking up his speed on your clit.

You try to get away from him and bat away his hand but he keeps at it until he feels you flutter around him. He lifts you so your back is against his chest before wrapping the hand not playing with your clit around your throat. “Let me hear my Crybaby beg.” He says roughly lips trailing across your cheek. “Please, please, please let me cum. I’ll be so good.” You rasp out as tears fall down your cheeks again. “Four more thrusts and you can cum.” Wally says against your neck. He does a singular quick thrust making your whine before he sinks his teeth in your shoulder drilling into you so fast you can even count.

You scream “WALLLLY.” As you squeeze him cumming around him causing his hips to stutter as he fills you full of his spend. “Fuck.” He grunts gently pulling out of you before pulling you into his chest. Your cheeks soaked with tears as you babble nonsense up at him. “My little Crybaby.” He says affectionately snuggling his head into your neck.

Yes. Yes we are.

Every School Spirits fanfiction I've come across has been Wally x Reader good lord are yall down bad

no thoughts, just rafe eating his study-till-i-drop girlfriend out to help her destress :)

the gentle knock on your door barely registers. "mom, i'll eat later tonight," you call out, voice clipped but trying to stay calm. it’s the third time you’ve said it, and the second you hear the door open, frustration prickles at your already frazzled nerves.

except it’s not your mom—it’s rafe. he stands in the doorway with his gym bag slung over one shoulder. “later tonight, huh?” he murmurs, an easy smirk tugging at his lips. with a gentle thud, he drops the bag just outside your door and steps inside, nudging the door shut behind him with his foot.

for a moment, your stress falters. the weight in your chest shifts, replaced by something lighter—relief, maybe even the hint of a smile. but it’s fleeting. you shake it off, glancing back at your biology book. “i have a lot to do,” you mutter, your tone softening despite yourself. “how was practice?”

he doesn’t answer immediately, just walks over to your bed, sits down, and kicks off his shoes. when he finally speaks, it’s in that low, casual drawl of his. “sweaty.”

you glance up and notice it now—his slightly damp hair curling at the ends, the faint sheen still clinging to his skin, and the subtle, clean scent of soap that lingers between you.

when you don’t respond, his brows pull together slightly, and he shuffles closer to you. instinctively, you tuck your knees to your chest, resting the weight of your textbook on your thighs to give him space.

“you should eat,” he says, his voice quieter now, laced with something tender. “you’ve been at this all day.”

he’s probably right, but the thought of pausing—of stepping away when you’re so far from finished—feels impossible. your pen moves almost mindlessly across the page as you scribble out another note, your lips parting to respond. but before you can, your notebook is snatched from your lap in one smooth, effortless motion.

“rafe,” you snap, reaching for it immediately. he holds it just out of reach, his grin soft but teasing.

“rafe, i’m not joking,” you warn, leaning forward. before you can try again, his lips meet yours, cutting off your protests with a kiss.

“you’re gonna burn out,” he murmurs against your mouth, his tone gentle but firm.

you pull back slightly, just enough to glare at him, though the frown on your face is more instinct than true frustration. “you haven’t even seen me during exams,” you mutter, the memory of those sleepless, frantic weeks flashing briefly in your mind.

“not looking forward to that,” he says with a quiet chuckle, still pressing faint, featherlight kisses to your lips.

you don’t stop him this time. instead, you find yourself watching him—watching the way his face softens as he leans into you, the way his eyes flicker between yours and your lips, the way his touch feels so deliberate, so careful.

“want me to help you destress?” he asks softly, his voice low and warm.

you blink at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “help me… destress? how?”

his hands trail down your legs, his touch light and teasing. “you had tights on this morning,” he notes, almost absentmindedly.

you nod slowly, your voice barely above a whisper. “they weren’t staying up… i took them off.”

his gaze lowers, and before you fully register what’s happening, his hands are gently parting your legs. your breath hitches as the air shifts between you.

he starts slowly, pressing soft, lingering kisses to your thigh, his lips warm against your skin. you let out a deep, shaky sigh—a sound that seems to rise from an exhaustion you hadn’t even realized you were carrying. each kiss feels deliberate, a quiet offering of care and something deeper, something unspoken.

he works his way lower, inch by inch, his lips grazing the sensitive skin of your thighs until he pauses. his eyes lift to meet yours, and his voice comes soft, almost reverent. “can i?”

you nod, breathless, unable to form words. the need simmering in his gaze feels like it could burn right through you, and the anticipation makes your skin hum, every nerve alive and aching for his touch.

his eyes drift down to your cunt that you know is drenched right now, before he’s even done something and the thought of him having you this undone before he’s even touched you is really sad.

when he tugs on the sides of your panties, you freeze for a moment—quiet realization of what’s about to happen and for a second, you’re afraid, afraid of something this new. his gentle eyes are immediately finding yours. “you trust me?” he asks and you know the answer is yes because you say yes without even thinking about it.

“good cause i won’t hurt you, sweetheart..” he’s lightly tugging on your panties, pulling them over your legs until they’re at your ankles and then he’s tossing them to the side. they’re simple white cotton ones and you find yourself wishing you atleast had those sexy, lacy ones.

“you promise?”

“cross my heart,”

he’s properly buried between your thighs now and the first lick along your folds has you gasping and fisting your freshly washed sheets. “you’ve got the prettiest pussy i’ve ever seen, baby..” when his tongue flicks against your drenched cunt, you let out a moan that is downright embarrassingly loud. before the noise can travel, rafe’s hand is flying to cover your mouth and you’re left muffling against his palm.

“as much as i’m dying to hear you moan my name, that’s a risk we can’t take right now, hm?” he murmurs and you assume that’s a sign that he’d go easy on you, you assume that since your parents are currently two floors below you and rafe cares about what they think, he wouldn’t go overboard.

you assume wrong.

“rafe!” you cry out against his palm, head tilting back as he shoves his tongue between your lips. your back is arching off the bed as your one hand holds onto his wrist that’s covering your mouth while the other is gripping rafe’s hair for dear life.

you were completely under the impression that the way his tongue was kissing and flicking your hole and folds was the pinnacle of all of this and you could imagine yourself cumming from just that in the next five minutes.

but then he’s licking from your hole to your clit and the moment his tongue makes first contact with your clit, your eyes fly open and your brain goes completely fuzzy.

“that’s it, baby, lemme make you feel good..” he’s muttering, mouth still right on your clit and you can hardly focus on his words, can hardly focus on much else but the pleasure that seems to be intensifying with every second that passes, “p-please..! i’m..i—“ you’re stuttering, eyes glossy in this almost fucked out state and you’re not even sure what you’re trying to say, what you want. you want something, need something.

“i’ll take care of you. i got you, babygirl.” you want to move, want to push against his mouth or push your hand against the back of his head to pull him in but your body feels too weak. all you can do is let out these muffled, shaky cries against rafe’s palms as he ate you out like it was his very last meal.

your whole body is trembling, a thin sheen of glistening sweat covers your forehead and you swear you can see stars right on the ceiling of your bedroom. rafe’s tongue is relentless, tirelessly lapping and licking at your clit, sucking it into his mouth and you’re losing focus, can’t think straight anymore. your eyes are rolling back as you attempt to push your mound against his lips.

you shudder when the pleasure only intensifies, “gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” rafe’s murmuring against your clit and you’re nodding frantically, “mhm! m’ gonna cum…gonna c-cum..!” you know it’s coming, can feel something pushing against you, pushing you over the edge and you’re about to spill.

rafe doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow, just devours you no matter how hard you’re pulling on his hair because you’re about to cum and it’s gonna be all over him and the humiliation of that would kill you.

“rafe! s’ too much!” you gasp and somehow, rafe knows just what to do, just which way to flick his tongue because not a moment later, your toes are curling, fingers tightening in his hair, back arching off your sheets and you’re coming all over his face, slick gushing out as you cry so loud he has to stuff your mouth with his fingers to keep you quiet.

he only removes his fingers after a second and then he’s rising up from between your legs while you lay there, head on your pillow, in this almost dream-like state, trying to catch your breath.

“all good?” his voice is soft, slightly out of breath but steady compared to your shallow pants. you nod, still catching your breath, as he leans over and grabs a tissue from the box on your nightstand. his movements are slow, careful as he cleans you both up, the gentle press of the tissue against your skin making you hyperaware of the moment.

it’s only when you shift slightly that your eyes flicker downward, catching the unmistakable bulge in his sweats. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, and you sit up slowly, your movements hesitant. “you—”

he follows your gaze and shakes his head immediately, cutting off your words before you can finish. “nah, don’t worry about me,” he says, his tone easy but resolute. he leans forward, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, the warmth of his lips grounding you even as your thoughts spin.

still, your eyes drift back to him, lingering a second too long. the idea settles in your chest, insistent and new, and before you can second-guess yourself, your hand starts to reach for him.

he catches your wrist gently but firmly, halting you in place. “no.” his voice is low, the single word laced with finality. his thumb brushes against the delicate skin of your wrist as he holds it, his gaze steady on yours. “go eat.”

you blink up at him, torn between frustration and a quiet determination. “i want to help you,” you murmur, your voice soft but unwavering, the words carrying more weight than you intended. your eyes meet his, defiant, even as your pulse races.

he exhales a small laugh, tilting his head until his forehead rests against yours. his lips brush yours, featherlight, a whisper of contact that leaves you yearning for more. “not today,” he says softly, his voice dropping to a near murmur. “go eat.”

his words leave no room for argument, but the tenderness in his tone eases the sting of his refusal. reluctantly, you shift off the bed, your legs unsteady as you make your way toward the door.

snippet from 'teach please me' series.

Loveeee

Boyfriend Simon Elroy (NSFW)

prompt fill. (request)

Simon Elroy x fem!reader

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Simon is exactly the type of romantic who takes your favorite color or favorite movie or favorite holiday very fucking seriously. Everything you tell him, he commits to memory. Tattoos it on his brain so he'll never forget. You only eat the green M&Ms? He'll pick them out of every bag and hand them to you like treasures. You hate it when the sauce touches your spaghetti before you can mix it yourself? He'll replate everything over and over again until you smile. And he does it all like it's no big deal, nothing to see here; mid-conversation, making a joke, totally whatever.

Simon is exactly the type to be sarcastic, wields his dark sense of humor like a test—none shall pass—but knows when to brighten himself up if you need a boost. He'll defend your honor against anyone, disguising sharp remarks behind a smile as he cuts down the passive-aggressive idiots who try to make you rethink your values. He's soft words in harsh tones; observations collected over hours spent together; always studying you, always learning, always finding new ways to make you feel like the sun.

Simon is exactly the type to keep a hand in your back pocket and kiss your neck after he walks you to class. Yeah, he knows you're independent, but he doesn't give a shit, gimme your bag, babe, or suffer the consequences. He isn't into soft affection for the sake of it, but he'll find reasons to touch you. Funny enough, despite that quirk, he does like to roughhouse at the drop of a hat. Grab you around the waist and bodily move you where he wants you. Throw you over his shoulder when you suffer decision fatigue and have been standing in front of the squishmallows for twenty minutes.

Simon is exactly the type to make the little moments significant. Celebrates every achievement like it's the cure for cancer. He'll put together backyard picnics under the stars because he can't afford a restaurant. He'll set up a blanket fort around his bed to watch scary movies in the dark after you admit you've never seen The Ring. Even secretly calls your phone right as the end credits start to roll and cackles when you jump a foot in the air. Bundles you up and rocks you, kisses you until you say you forgive him.

But Simon is also the type to get obsessed. He isn't controlling, just wants to make sure his girl is okay, taken care of, happy at all times. Because if she isn't, there will be hell to pay and Simon will gleefully be the one to unleash it. He would go to the ends of the earth for you, no questions asked. You want sushi from that place in Milwaukee—an hour and a half away, and closed on Sundays—Simon WILL make that happen. He's the first one there and the last to leave, helps clean up the basement after everyone exits Game Night. Doesn't expect anything in return. You know that if you get hurt, he'll nurse you back to health, a bit of a helicopter mom, and that he'll also fucking murder whoever's responsible. (You've never seen the school patch a crack in the pavement so fast...)

Simon is also the type who doesn't get jealous. He isn't territorial. He doesn't worry about you if another guy decides to make his move; watches in amusement because he knows dickhead Dom Sawyer can't do what Simon does for you. He simply raises a brow at the guys who try to pretend Simon doesn't exist. It's only if and when you get uncomfortable that Simon intervenes, "You okay, beautiful?" and extricates you from the situation, a protective arm around your waist.

Simon is exactly the type who makes promises he doesn't break. If he swore to make you scream his name, that's exactly what you'll be doing, no matter how long it takes. "Come on, beautiful, I know you can be louder than that..." He's methodical, thorough, has done the research and gathered the evidence, your honor, this is what word to spell with his tongue to make you squirt. And Simon loves to make you come as many times as you can take, groaning as he tastes you, his lips and chin dribbling, his eyes rolled back in his head as he tries to get his tongue deeper. He listens to you, knows your limits, won't cross them even when his curiosity is begging him to. Giving you pleasure gives him pleasure, and sometimes he won't even have to fuck you to get off. He doesn't get embarrassed, is sure of himself, just gives you a wolfish smirk and starts all over again. Makes you taste yourself on his tongue before he decides to use his fingers this time. "You want to come again, love? Say it. Tell me what you want."

Simon is definitely the type to fuck slow when he does have you beneath him. He's traditional in some aspects. Prefers missionary to anything else because he needs to see your eyes, to gaze deeply into them as he rocks into you, angled perfectly to tease you. "You feel amazing, beautiful girl," he murmurs as he kisses your neck and pinches your nipple. "You're so perfect, fuck, I'm so lucky." And then, finally, he'll position himself just right to hit your g-spot, ram into it until you and he come together.

Simon isn't vanilla. He'll secret you away to a bathroom at the arcade or have you ride him behind the Peddie's barn when there's a tailgate. He just knows what he likes and that's all there is to it. But if there's something you want to try, he's more than willing, "Anything for you, love."

Simon is exactly the type who knows how to laugh during sex. He's silly and doesn't take himself too seriously. Honestly, he just loves the way you sound when you giggle, he doesn't care what's happening when you do. Simon doesn't get drowsy after, either. He gets hype; wants to play; loves to tickle you into submission and then snuggle the shit out of you as he talks to you about plans he's made for you and him to travel to New York Comic Con. He tucks your hair behind your ear, blushes at his own gesture—like he can't quite believe he's allowed to be that intimate—and then smothers you in kisses so you won't notice how red his cheeks are.

🌰___________________________

also on AO3!

Y’all I just watched the season 2 finale of School Spirits and it fucked me up.

I need to rewatch it because I’m pretty sure that’s the only thing I could see through my own tears.

Wally Clark being an absolutely wreck in the background the entire episode?

Yeah, that broke me

Anyone else desperately need someone to just make them go stupid? I’m talking no thoughts just them. Bend me over and fuck me like you hate me. And then after treat me like a princess.

Wally all greasy and in those blue jumpsuits 🤤🤤🤤

Alphabet Soup

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.

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MASTERLIST

also available on AO3!

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