#skirt making tutorial

[anielskaaniela]

Mix & Match Design -Skirt Pattern to Any Top

In this post, you will learn how to use my free skirt PDF pattern and how to mix & max it with different tops and blouses to sew stunning dresses and skirts. Do you love sewing your own clothes and experimenting with different styles? If so, you will enjoy this fun and easy sewing tutorial on how to make a mix and match basic skirt pattern with any top pattern. You will learn how to sew a…

[dorky-fox]

Day 9: Fashion 🧵🪡

[20dollarlolita]

(It's been entirely too long since we've started a tutorial with a very blurry picture, which is a 20dollarlolita tradition. Am I about to fall over and only staying upright because of a death grip on this trim? Stay tuned to find out)

Let's make a skirt.

There's a lot of lolita fashion that doesn't fit most people. It's me. I'm most people. I'm going to wear it anyway, so I'm going to resize that to fit me.

The hardest part of resizing a lolita skirt (or skirt part of a dress) is that you almost never can get the fabric that the skirt was made out of. Lolita prints are usually pretty limited run. While some dresses will let you redistribute the fabric to have a slightly less full skirt, that's usually a major reconstruction that ends up drifting a bit away from the lolita shape.

x

A ruffled bustle bustle, however, is pretty common. Bustles like this are pretty common in lolita fashion and add an additional detail. In addition, you can make the waist of the skirt several inches bigger without a problem, and without compromising skirt fullness. If you ever want to undo the alteration, seaming the skirt back up is not very difficult. It's not a fully seamlessly reversible alteration, but there's far worse things you could do to the garment (ask me about my AP dress with mesh pits).

The problem is that bustles like this take quite a bit of energy and fabric, especially if you want to have details like lace trim. It's one of the more time-consuming alterations to do.

Or you can make one bustle/ruffle underskirt, one time, and wear it with all your skirt and dress modifications. You can splurge and get some nice trim and get some nice fabric, because you only need to buy it once. You can also wear it as a standalone skirt. (Just remember to never, ever steam it before taking pictures. You wouldn't want to look competent)

I put off making one of these for a very long time, because I'd made the process much more complicated in my head than it turned out needing to be. Once I was building this and realized I needed to simplify the fuck down, this became a really easy project.

Materials: I decided to make the ruffles on my skirt out of eyelet lawn, which is a cotton fabric that has an all-over embroidery. I got this for about $10 a yard on ebay. I don't have a very accurate judgement of how much I used on the skirt. I bought 4 yards and used probably 3.5, but I also wasted a bunch of fabric on an extra tier that I had to chop off. I wanted a fabric with more detail than broadcloth, but that wasn't exclusively going to work with OTT styling.

I got 30 yards of 1/2" Venise lace off cheeptrims.com for $9. I really recommend putting lace on your ruffles if you can. It really adds to the detail level, and you only need to buy it once. You already have to hem all of this so you might as well hem it with lace.

You will also want some fabric for the slip layer (for want of a better term) to attach the ruffles to. My ruffles were a little bit sheer, so I wanted an opaque base fabric for modesty. Depending on the look you're going for, you can also use this layer to add some subtle detailing or changes to the finished look. If you're only wearing it with over-the-top looks, using a base fabric with shine or glitter can stop your ultrabustle from looking too plain. If you're wanting your ruffles to lay flatter, getting a soft fabric with a lot of drape will make the ruffles droopier. I just used some weird cotton plainweave that I got at Green Store for 75% off due to a bolt-long defect.

I used 1" elastic in the waistband here, because this skirt can get a little bit heavy, and then you often have another skirt on top of it adding to the weight.

The other thing that I used that made this much easier was a ruffling attachment for my serger. You don't need to use a serger, but a ruffling or gathering attachment that allows you to ruffle a flat strip of fabric and sew it onto another piece of (not to-be-ruffled) fabric will speed things up considerably. I know a lot of people buy a ruffler or a gathering foot when they start sewing lolita, and then are disappointed when they don't use it very much. There's a very limited number of lolita applications for these attachments, and I'm happy to tell you that this is one of them. If you don't have one, you don't need to go buy one. You can just do the two-step process of gathering the fabric and then sewing it on. But if you wanted an excuse to go buy one, well, you have one.

The Plan:

So I'd previously made a lot of math and calculations for how each tier was going to gather into the previous one, and then realized during the build phase that actually was way too complicated.

What we need is a rectangle with ruffles on it gathered into a waistband. Yes, a rectangle. I know, I was stunned too, but the final result worked the best.

I wanted the tops of the ruffles to be hidden in seams. If you just sew ruffled strips onto a single piece of fabric, it's very difficult to hide all the raw edges and to make sure you're not spreading loose threads all over the place. We're going to make ruffled strips, and sew them to each other. This covers up the raw edges very nicely.

This also will allow you to slightly gather the second and top tiers to each other, if you want to make this skirt in an a-line instead of a bell/cupcake shape.

The Math:

If you know what skirts you're planning on wearing your ultrabustle with, it can help to measure them and get a good guideline.

Generally, you want your ultrabustle to be a number somewhere within these guidelines.

~~Close to the same length of the skirt you're wearing it with or ~~4"ish longer than the skirt you're wearing it with. (This depends on if you want the bottom ruffle to stick out. If you're Tallita and all the skirts and dresses you're resizing are also too short, you might want this to double as a ruffled underskirt) and ~~An acceptable length to wear as a skirt all on its own.

My first run at this ultrabustle was WAY too long, and after chopping off the entire top tier, it ended up being either 1" shorter or 1" longer than the skirts I'm planning on wearing it with, which is a great number for me.

As for the total fullness of the skirt, you have to remember that the ruffles will add visual volume to the skirt. This means that you don't actually need the hemline of your skirt to be super full. All that matters is that your petticoat can comfortably squeeze in there. For this, I measured the hemline of the smallest dress that I had that still fit my petticoat, and used that. It turned out to be about 80" around.

So, what sizes do we cut this at? It's math time.

Here's a worksheet if you want. You're going to need to know how long you want the finished skirt, how wide you want the hem of the slip (not the ruffle) of the skirt, how many ruffle layers you want, and your waist measurement.

The slip needs to be shorter than the ruffles, so it doesn't show. So total slip length is your skirt length minus 2.5". Divide that by the number of ruffle layers that you have, and you'll have how long to cut each of those. This is slip tier short side.

Each ruffle layer needs to be longer than each slip layer, so that the slip doesn't show. You want each ruffle to overlap the previous one. So, take your slip tier short side and add 2-3" (or more, if you want). This is your ruffle short side.

Your finished slip diameter is your slip tier long side. That one's easy.

If you're a math and planning person, you can determine your ruffle long side measurement. You'll want to take a piece of your fabric, cut to the ruffle short side measurement and also about 45+ inches wide, and a piece of your slip fabric. Run them both through your gathering attachment so that your ruffle fabric is sewn onto your slip fabric. If you like how that looks, you can then measure the finished length of the ruffled fabric and use that to calculate how much fabric you'll need for the ruffles. There's four places where people mess this up. First of all, if you're using your gathering attachment to sew and gather at the same time (which is the point of that attachment), you want to do all your test runs gathering it onto a fabric. The amount of fabric that goes into a machine ruffle changes depending on if it's onto fabric or just gathering. Second, you want to use your finished fabric, at your finished ruffle length. Different fabrics will ruffle different amounts, and different ruffle widths will look different even at the same gathering amount. Third mistake people make is to not gather a long enough strip. The longer a strip you gather, the more accurately you can measure how much fabric is actually going into your ruffle. And the fourth is to take that measure as an accurate one, and not plan for needing extra fabric. The upside of the gathering attachment is that it will save you so much time. The downside is that you can't be as accurate with knowing how much fabric you'll use. Remember, you can always turn the leftovers into a matching accessory. Even if you're going to go yolo like I did and not do the math about how many ruffles you need, you will still want to run a check that you like how your ruffling attachment looks. You don't need to measure super accurately, but try to get a feel for how much fabric is going into each ruffle. For example, if your ruffler takes a strip and makes it 1/3 it's flat size, then you'll need more fabric than if your ruffler makes it 1/2 it's flat size. If you're really on a budget, you can just cut your ruffles at 2.5x your slip long dimension and precisely gather by hand. My time's worth something to me and so it wasn't worth it to do that just to save a yard of $10 fabric.

The last part is just to check that your ruffle long dimension (or it's rough approximation) is still at least 2.75x your waist measure (3.25 is better). If you don't have that, your skirt likely won't look full enough for a lolita silhouette. If that's the case, just add to your skirt dimension until it is.

Actually making it:

Before you forget, cut out a piece for your waistband. You can decide if this looks better in your ruffle fabric or your slip fabric (I used slip). This piece should be 3ish" longer than the distance around the fullest part of your booty. You need this to be longer than your booty distance so that you can get it on your body. If you're using 1" elastic, you want this piece to be a minimum of 3" wide.

I've found that the easiest way to do this is to start out by making the whole skirt as a single, very long strip. So, I take my slip tiers and cut them all out, and sew them into a long strip.

On my specific fabric, I decided that I wanted the pattern on the eyelet to go lengthwise. So, instead of cutting the fabric across the grain (short side, selvedge to selvedge) like I normally would, I cut down the 4 yard length of the fabric. This meant a lot less seaming. Since I didn't really know how much fabric I was going to use (you know that test I described to check how much fabric you're going to use? Yeah, guess who didn't do that), I just cut them one 4-yard strip at a time. I'd ruffle one all the way, stop, and cut the next one. This did actually save me quite a bit of fabric versus cutting them all at once. I had to go back and sew the sides of the ruffle together once the skirt was done. It was a small price to pay for the convenience I experienced.

I knew what size I wanted the finished ruffle length to be, but I cut my ruffles about 2.5" longer than that. I wanted a little bit of wiggle room once the skirt was done, so that I could do the length adjustment once the whole skirt was assembled.

And then, it's just a matter of letting the ruffler do its work. My serger ruffler works by you putting the item to-be-ruffled on the bottom, and the item to attach the ruffle to on the top, and then just hitting go. Some other rufflers work by putting the to-be-ruffled at the top, so you can see it as you go. Like all sewing machine attachments, if you're not sure, just go on youtube and search "HOW SINGER GATHERING FOOT DO THING NOT LOOK LIKE SHIT?" and someone's probably made a video of it.

So, once you've run all your ruffle through your machine, you should have a nice single strip of slip fabric with a ruffle on top of it. Now, some gathering attachments don't actually sew super strong seams, because you have to adjust tension or stitch length pretty severely to get it to ruffle like you want. The other advantage of putting the ruffles in a seam instead of just topstitching them onto a piece of fabric is that it doesn't matter how strong your ruffle attachment is, as long as it's strong enough to hold until you can put the ruffle in the seam. The seam provides the strength.

Once you have your single long ruffle, cut off a section that's the diameter of your bottom tier.

Now you just need to sew them together (and finish your inside edges). I like to start at the bottom tier and go up.

For each tier, you're sewing the bottom of the slip layer to the top (ruffle and slip) of the tier below. Just pull the ruffle of the higher tier out of the way, put right sides together, and sew.

If you aren't using a serger, you can zigzag over your edges and then trim them down, use an overcasting stitch from your sewing machine, or topstitch some seam binding over the seams. The extra line of stitching on the slip layers in front won't be visible. One of the other nice things about building this in the way we have is that, when you finish the edges of your inside seams, you're putting three layers together and finishing it as one. This is actually a lot less then 1/3 of the work of finishing them separately, because you'd have to finish the ruffle as a flat piece, which would take way more time. Have I convinced you on the greatness of this technique yet?

Continue cutting pieces off your ruffle layer and stacking them until you have as many layers as you decided you were going to have.

Once you have your layers all stacked up on each other, it's time to sew the skirt back seam. I find that it looks best to hold the ruffles out of the way, sew the slip together, and then go back and sew all the ruffle pieces. Basically now is a good time to just check for any ugly spots and to touch them up.

There's like 50 ways to attach a waistband to a skirt. For this one I used this method (what a blast from the 20dollarlolita past we have there. Also please note that the cost of ruffler feet seems to have gone up from $15 to $60-$100 in the past 10 years and despite working in a sewing machine store, I'm not totally sure why).

Once you've got the whole skirt assembled, it's time for the finishing.

The first thing that I did was put it on and try to judge how short I wanted my top ruffle. I'd cut all my ruffles extra long in the short dimension, so that I could shorten them when they were on the skirt. I picked a length that worked, marked it out, and chopped at that point. I then did this for the other two layers. I found that I wanted my bottom ruffle to be a little bit longer than my top ones, and cutting it long allowed me to make that choice.

I then started just zigagging on my lace. If you don't have a serger, you can use the lace as a hem finish, which also saves you an additional step. The lace really added a lot to this, and since I only need to make this once to wear with a lot of different garments, it was an economical use of nice lace.

I started putting the lace on the top layer first. This is because, if I ran out of lace, having a different (wider) lace on the bottom layer wouldn't look strange. As previously mentioned, I did zero measuring of how long my ruffles are, and had no idea if 27 yards would be enough lace. Don't be like me. Do some tests. Or be like me and choose the life of treachery. Anyway, stick lace on this thing, please. You worked hard and your skirts deserve it.

The only other thing that I did was to cut the slip layer down by about 3" on the very bottom. I did this because I made a mistake, but I like how it looks.

You can take this system of ataching ruffles in rectangles or even a trapezoid and stick it in the back of a skirt (or skirt on a dress). I did that here because I knew that I wanted a pink bustle, not a white one.

I'll do a tutorial for the actual skirt resizing sometime after I actually resize a skirt with this. Here, all I did was slice the back, hem those edges, and then button on some waist ties from another dress. This let me easily add several inches to the back of this skirt, without needing to re-distribute pleats, and without sacrificing the fullness of the shape.

This will all sit a little bit better once I've pressed the skirt, as well. Steaming the top layer of this while the garment is on me/a dress form/a hanger will decrease the poof in the top layer a little bit, and honestly, we could benefit from that in this case.

Anyway, if you have this, you have a very fast way to enlarge existing garments.

So, while this has thankfully very much decreased in the past years, there's still some people with weird opinions on MoDiFyInG bUrAnDo, so let's have a talk. Lolita clothing is not community owned. If someone who was never going to sell a dress to you modifies it, that doesn't take it away from you. This is a mentality that we tend to have in lolita more than other fashion just because of our high resell scene, but it wasn't ever going to be your dress and so you don't need to have an opinion about what happens to a thing you were never going to personally own. Things have value more than money, and value is often changed rather than destroyed. AP's Halloween Treats OP has no value to me when sold for $500 on Lacemarket. I don't spend that much money on lolita, ever. But a questionably-altered AP's Halloween Treats OP that I can un-alter has value to me if the price is good. But a questionably-altered AP's Halloween Treats OP has very little value to someone who likes the price, but can't undo the alterations. When someone resizes a dress or skirt, true, sometimes the people who are the size it was originally made can't wear it anymore. You've decreased the value to them, but you've made it more valuable to people who are the size that you've made the garment become. This skirt had no value to me when it's waist measure is 7.5" too small, but now I can wear it, so it has functional value to me. A lot of people who say that modifying the dress ruins it are either ignoring that also the stress of putting a dress not sized large enough for your body can damage it and not look as great while doing so, or else they have a much worse take. People who say that modifying clothes ruins the garment, but also say that wearing a garment that's too small ruins the garment, what they're actually saying is that wearing that garment is a privilege that should not be extended to larger sized people, and if they say that then they can just, you know, go fuck themselves. We don't need that in the community. Everyone deserves to wear lolita, and some people have to work harder to achieve it, and that's not fair, but everyone deserves it.

So yeah, kiddos! Build a skirt! Go cut up some clothes! Wear the skirts you've always wanted to wear! You can do anything!

And to answer the question we opened this with, yes, I was absolutely falling over.

[tj-crochets]

I made Miss Beatrice Bear a pair of bloomers out of a scrap of flannel and discovered there is no good way I can find to take a photo of bloomers on a bear plushie

[honorary-fool]

love when hyperfixations make you question cosplans 🥴

It's the same media but a different person. Like i was so dead-set on Robin but because I've seen so many Argenti cosplays recently I wanna do him now.

Not even trying to make his armor just like. A pseudo closet cosplay w/ the Nameless Bard shirt, my black boots, an old rose prop I have.. and then figure out the pants, corset belt, and wig styling.

But there's still Robin,, and I literally Just bought a yard of lace fabric to make her blouse (this is my reference) 💔

[confessionsofarefashionista]

Akk! The dress I bought online arrived and it is way too big! Check out how I transform it into 3(!) fab items that fit me perfectly! ✂️

[batslime]

Goodwill isn’t an awesome company so I suggest finding good local thrift shops, sometimes they’re considerably cheaper anyway and you can help support your community. My favorite local shop only hires disabled community members so it also directly benefits them. I buy not just clothes but decor and other fun items I flip into smt goth (frames, statuettes, small tables or shelves, etc) and you can usually find cool vinyl and CDs thrifting- I just discovered a local band through a 2003 CD that was recorded right down the street!

Another thing is BARTER AND TRADE!!! If you have pieces you don’t want anymore/ don’t fit/ etc see if anybody in person or online would like it in exchange for either some of their alt stuff OR just other things/ services. Have somebody build you an aquarium in exchange for those boots. Commission them. If you embroider and they do glasswork, trade handmade patches and suncatchers. Etc.

Some sites like Killstar have started resell pages but it tends to be for items specific to that store- circlly lets people all over the world sell and trade based on fashion type (I linked their goth site but they also do lolita, vintage, etc). And if you don’t want to hassle you can also just donate. Again, I really encourage donating to local shops.

If I have a piece I’d like to alter but I’m stumped on ideas I love to scout around pinterest, insta, google images, etc for ideas and honestly even just sites like killstar themselves bc some designs are good but I’m not paying what they’re charging lol. So in general it just helps to be crafty or have friends who are. There are all kinds of possibilities so DON’T think you have to buy to be. And at the end of the day thrifting and diy can bring you a totally unique ooak piece that will have everybody asking you about it while everyone else is in the same thing they found online.

Please don’t shove safety pins thru your ears tho that’s not how piercings work and can kill you

Actually I'll never forgive Punk Rave and Killstar and fast fashion brands for tricking people into thinking that being goth or punk or emo is expensive. Babygirl the only goth brand names you need to know are Rit, Good Will, Etsy, and Studs and Spikes, we used to shove safety pins through our ears and then they started selling earrings that look like safety pins for 15.99. We used to dye thrifted wedding dresses black and they started selling gothic gowns for 300 bucks. We used to put studs on boots we found in the back of the good will and they started making Demonias. DIY or die wasn't perfect it can be exclusionary to disabled people but whatever the fuck we've got going on right now is so much worse. It's not any more inclusive to the disabled and it is exclusionary to the people who made punk, to the people who made goth, to the people who made emo. If you've got the funds and you don't want to do diy pay someone else to do it for you but please let it be a small artist or a friend not some guy in a suit who's made it his business to gentrify punk. You can turn flats into platforms with flipflops, hotglue and gumption don't let anyone tell you different.

[masqueradewaltz]

theres this girl on insta that has THE SAME NAME AS ME that has a crochet acc and one of the tops she made was soo cute it was like light blue dark blue white waves and she was originally pricing it at 25$ and ppl told her it was too low so she moved it up to 65 FUCKING DOLLARS and when ppl told her it was too expensive shes like if youre poor just say that 💅 and saying the set was 20$ on materials like HELLO stop lying i got 9€ in materials and am gonna make like 3 tops and have leftover yarn DONT PISS ME AWF

[subwaybrothers]

i have yet to get the design plans for lusamine onto a sheet of paper. i should really do that.

[anielskaaniela]

Elastic Waistband: 3 Easy Methods for Pattern Drafting

In this post, you will learn how to self draft elastic waistband sewing pattern in 3 ways. Love what you see ? Support me by snagging some cool items from my shop! Every purchase helps me bring you more awesome content. Thank you! Shop Now If you’re new to sewing or just starting out with pattern drafting, you’ve come to the right place! In this tutorial, I’ll walk you through three super easy…

[luveline]

can you pls do Sirius and his loser!gf <3 where she’s getting insecure about how cool he is and how much of a loser she is so she stops doing her fun little hobbies and tries to change and he can’t wrap his head around it? luv u 

fem, 2.4k

Shaving the backs of your legs is hard, but you only cut yourself once. More of a rash. It’s fine. And buying new clothes is worse, trying everything on, attempting to make outfits you aren’t brave enough to wear, it’s difficult, but Sirius got you a gift card for your birthday with too much money on it anyways. It’s okay. Doing your makeup like this, following the tutorials and learning how to keep a steady hand, it was frustrating, but it’s done now. 

You turn in the mirror in silence. Small black dress with a reasonable and yet somehow brave skirt. Loafers, leather, shiny and brown. White socks. Baby sleeves, little silver necklace. You look cute, you do, but Sirius sees you everyday. This was all pointless —he knows you’re a loser already. 

He won’t laugh at you, but he’ll raise his brows and whistle or ask what’s gotten into you, because this isn’t normal. You’re not normal. 

“Darling,” he says from somewhere downstairs, and you aren’t ever sure if he’s teasing or if he actually thinks you’re his darling, “are you ready to go? Not that you need to rush, but we might have more chance of getting a table if we leave soon.” 

“Yeah, two seconds!”

“Okay!” There’s a sound of scuffed boots against the wall. “I’m gonna go find Tilly!”

Tilly’s your little white cat. His suggestion, an uncharacteristic expression of worry. I don’t want you to be lonely, he’d said, though you both know you’re always lonely, less so since you met him. You’re a lonely person, and it’s not anyone’s fault, but Sirius acts as though it’s his and he tries his hardest to fix things. Tilly —his name choice, too, the posh bastard— was a year old by the time you got him and has remained very small. A rescue, he refuses to stay inside and yowls like mad if you restrain him, so you let him out in the garden in the daytime. Your house is far from the beaten path, you don’t worry about him often, and besides, he always comes when Sirius calls. 

He barely has to raise his voice for the cat when you hear the tinkle of a jumping bell. “There you are, sweet boy. Yes, hello. You aren’t having anymore ham, it’s your mum’s.” 

That’s nice. 

You gather some bits into a handbag and wrap a jacket around your strange outfit, ready to head downstairs. You’re hoping Sirius won’t have anything to say about what you’re wearing. You might die. 

When you get to the kitchen, Sirius is stroking Tilly’s back as the cat eats a slice of ham from a little saucer on the table. He looks up at your footsteps. Even now, he takes your breath away. It’s a rabid cliche and it couldn’t be more accurate —you choke on your exhale, witness to his good looks in the warm yellow light from the kitchen shade above. Sirius has always been handsome, outspokenly so, and somehow simultaneously there’s an understated quality to him. Perhaps it’s how he’s smiling at you, all warmth and no bravado. Not a lick of performance. You’ll never know why you were the exception, why, that night at the show, surrounded by people far prettier than you are, he’d stopped by your table and said, “Alright?” 

Yes, you’d said back. Thank you. 

You’re welcome. I’m Sirius.

You know now it was unlike him to act so calmly. He must’ve sensed that grand flirting would’ve scared you off. Not that he doesn’t flirt, does he ever stop? But your Sirius often feels like a secret. He only makes sense with you when you’re alone. 

“What are you thinking about?” he asks, smug in his way. 

“Nothing.” 

“Well,” he says, letting the pause between his words breathe deeply, “you look beautiful. But you have a cut?” 

You turn your knee to show him more clearly, peering down at it unhappily, “Oh, I know, I cut it in the bath, is it noticeable?” 

“It’s fine. Does it hurt?” 

You rub your cheek. “No, not really. I’m ready now, sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry, why are you sorry?” He rubs Tilly’s little snout and stands. “I feel quite stir crazy today. Do you know what I mean? If we weren’t going out for food I’d probably scream.” 

Sirius cups your cheek. He’s not particularly gentle, but that doesn’t mean he’s throwing you about either, quick and greedy with his touching in a way that’s never made much sense to you. 

He takes your shoulder and ferries you from the house, locks the door, insists on driving. “Tilly’s got the vets on Saturday next, I’ll make sure I’m not doing anything, it’s at five so we’ll go at half four, yeah?” 

“Thank you. For sorting everything out.”

“Well, he’s not really a present if I make you do all that stuff, is it?”

“You don’t have to keep paying for his food, though.” 

“Shut up, not having this conversation again.” He reaches over the gearstick for your thigh. “You look pretty. Don’t let me embarrass you, but this is quite new, isn’t it?” 

“Oh, yeah. I got it with the card you bought me. I hope that’s okay.” 

“Of course it is.” He frowns. You watch his face as he watches the road, melted by the rough of his hand slipping up and down your thigh. His bracelet tickles as he goes, a ten thread embroidery bracelet you’d woven for him when you were still too scared to call him your boyfriend. He takes good care of it. Never showers with it on, so the colours have stayed bright and clean. 

“The makeup is nice, too. You always look nice.” 

“Thank you,” you say, covering his hand with your own. This lessens his frown some, but he’s onto you. Suspicious as he parks the car by the pub. 

Then a blank slate falls over his pretty features. “Hey, you know what? James said there’s been a huge family of ducks in the pond behind the two for one, should we go have a look? Baby ones, too.” 

You grin. “Really?” 

“Green ones and everything.” 

You scramble out of the car. It’s a little brisk for the outfit you’ve made up, just, all the cool girls on the website you’d browsed for information had nice legs that they used to their advantage, nobody was wearing jeans or tights, just skirts. Skirts skirts skirts. And you like skirts, but you would’ve worn a pair of jeans and a hoodie any other day. It’s only dinner at the two for one. 

You and Sirius make your way down from the asphalt to the beaten path, through grass and to the edge of the pond, walking along lain wood chips as the pond opens up and the blue expands nearly further than the eye can see. 

“You’re terribly in your head today,” Sirius says. 

“Sorry, am I?” you ask. 

Not cool. You’re lying about not knowing, but Sirius is kind enough to let it slide. For now. “You are. I was wondering if maybe you aren’t happy in the dress. It really does look lovely, you look lovely. It’s nice that you’re trying something new.” 

“But?” 

He offers his hand to hold. You let him slip his fingers between yours and squeeze. “No buts. It really is nice. You know I like you in your joggers, but it’s nice to dress up.” 

You bite back another useless oh, pulling him toward you as you fall into step. Your arms and your shoulders touch. “Yeah. I don’t look stupid?” 

“You don’t look stupid,” he confirms. 

“I think I feel stupid.” 

“It’s always jarring to try new things. You think everyone can tell, but they can’t.” 

“I want this to be me. Like– like, it’s not that I don’t want to dress like this, I do. I don’t think it’s stupid to want to look dressed up or anything…” 

“You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about something.” 

You falter where the wood chips are turned to long, green grass at the edge of the water. “What?” 

“Why don’t you make your bracelets anymore?” 

“My bracelets?” 

“Yeah, and your keychains. You don’t make them. You haven’t been watching your shows, either. I… was worried you were going a bit topsy-turvy. You’ve always been my…” You stare at him, not sure you recognise this Sirius who can’t seem to put words together. “You’re a quiet girl, yeah? You don’t go out much, but I thought you liked things that way. I was wondering if maybe you’re a bit depressed, sweetheart. What do you think? Tell me how you’re feeling.” 

You shake your head gently. “Maybe a little, just…” 

You cast your eyes to the water. At the other end of the lake, the family of ducks have emerged from by the cattails and the pondweeds, swimming far, far away in a broken V. 

You don’t usually keep things from Sirius. It’s a big part of why you love him —he loves to hear you talk. You can chat for hours about nothing at all and he eats it up, interrupting with jokes and kisses and soft touches behind your ear. But what are you supposed to say to him now? I feel like I’m not enough for you, not cool enough, not charming. “Do you ever think it’s sad that I can’t seem to make any good friends?” you ask through a smile. “I try my best. I’ve joined all those clubs and I talk to people on the internet, but somehow I’ve never really made any.” 

“You do try your best,” he agrees quietly. 

“But you’re, like, the only person I’ve met who properly likes me.” 

“That’s not true. I’m just the only person who’s managed to get to know you, it’s not– it’s not as simple as liking you. James really likes you, but I’m your boyfriend and he’s not. It’s circumstance.” 

You’re tempted to laugh. “I’m uncool. It’s not funny, it’s quite bad, really, that all my hobbies are stupid, that I never learned how to dress, that– I’m so behind everyone. I think it’s quite miraculous that I have a boyfriend in the first place, but you being my boyfriend? It only happens in books.” 

Sirius acts more like himself when you’re done, loosing your hand go to grab you by the face. “That’s all rubbish,” he says, pressing a sympathetic kiss to the space between your eyebrows. He lingers there, forcing you to shut your eyes tightly. “Yeah? That’s rubbish, you know that’s rubbish. You do. You’ve thought about it too much and you’re not feeling the best and you’ve, like, twisted it up. Because you aren’t uncool, and you aren’t stupid, and this doesn’t just happen in books. It happens in real life, that’s why people write about it.” He’s drawn away, frowning in the frame of your parting lashes. “The things you like aren’t stupid, sweetheart, they’re just not all the same as everyone else. It’s okay to be a bit different, it’s not like you’re an alien. There are tons of girls who like to do your crafts and watch those long tv shows and stuff, you don’t think they’re weird, do you?” 

You shake your head. 

“No.” He relaxes his hold on your face, his hands slipping to the curves of your neck. “I quite like you, which you know. I like that you’re a bit different. I like that you’re quiet with people we don’t know, ‘cos you’re not shy with me. You’re just you, my girl.” 

“I know you like me,” you murmur. 

It doesn’t help you like yourself as much as you both might hope, but it’s not anything to shake your head at, either. 

Sirius manoeuvres you in front of him, his face pressed to the side of your head and his arms coming to hold you at your chest, encouraging you to look out at the water. It ripples with the flock of coming ducks. “Shiny heads,” you mumble. 

“They are much prettier,” he says. “Bet all the other ducks think they’re weird.” 

“Shush,” you mumble, wishing he’d say more as he draws a heart into your chest with his thumb. You can feel it despite your layers. 

“Bet they love doing weird duck stuff.” 

“Subtle.” 

“I’m not subtle, and I never will be, and you don’t mind.” 

It’s heavy-handed but effective. You relax into Sirius’ chest and find yourself suddenly eager to come clean completely, to tell him every detail of the worries you’ve worried these last few weeks, but you wonder if there’s a point. It’ll upset him if he knows how deeply your self-disdain runs, and it’s not as though it makes you feel better to confess to it. 

He noses at the soft skin beside your eye. “You know there’s nothing wrong with you, don’t you?” 

“I don’t know that.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you.” 

You lean back fully. “Thanks,” you say. Your mouth feels heavy with honey.  

Sirius points at a duck splitting off from the group. “That’s one of the babies. Cute. And friendless for now, but I bet soon–”

You turn in his arms and wrap your own around his neck. “It’s not about friends, Sirius.” 

“I know.” 

He gives you a quick, loving cuddle by the water and pulls apart from you with a twinkle in his eye you recognise and revere. When he spends the evening doting, kissing, and being altogether too touchy, you want to be embarrassed, rejecting his affection because you begged for it with your awkward confession, but you let him be kind to you because you love him, and he loves you, no matter how many ways you might try to change.

He sees you smiling dopily at him over dessert and asks if you’d like to be spoon fed. Won’t get anything on your dress, swear. 

[honeytonedhottie]

doll hand-book⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🎀

how to feel prettier, some visual interest tips, a beauty handbook and how to glow up without doing something big/extra, little habits and things that u can incorporate into ur life to make u glow up without even thinking about it ✨ (constantly being updated)

double cleansing every morning and night for clean and sparkling skin

BODY GLITTER

exfoliate ur skin weekly (2-3x) 

incorporate pretty words into ur vocabulary 

drinking enough water everyday to be healthy and beautiful 

sweet smelling body butters and body oils to moisturize 

posture is important so sit straight and stand straight 

wear sunscreen on your face and body everyday bcuz spf is important

jewelry to decorate ur body 

carrying lipglosses and hand lotions and perfumes in ur bag for touch ups throughout the day 

meditate, say ur affirmations and journal for a pretty mind 

for journaling, buy a cute journal and journal with scented glitter pens and stickers 

for visual interest 

glitter is very feminine, in makeup, clothing, nails, and on collarbones. when i wear glitter on my skin i feel like a fairy ✨

jewelry makes u glitter (nose studs, stacked necklaces and stacked earrings, rings, belly piercings, and nail gems) 

know what ur undertone is, since i have a warm undertone (gold>silver) 

LONG is the way to go (long nails, lashes, hair, flowy dresses and tops and skirts) 

for the sleek and shiny look (shiny and silky hair, glossy skin and lips) 

glowing up subconsciously

prioritize sleep (sleep 8-10 hours a night)

drink at least 1L of water a day

eat a fruit or veggie with every meal to glow from the inside out

use coconut oil/castor oil on ur lashes and brows every night

facial massage everyday and practice mewing

move your body in a way that feels natural (for example, i go to a school where we have to walk a lot bcuz the campus is big so subconsciously i do LOTS of walking without even thinking of it)

if ur wearing ur hair up/in a protective style, use a hair mask

to look polished and put together

chapped lips are unacceptable, use an overnight lip mask and a hydrating chapstick throughout the day. if u notice ur lips just peeling in general, use an exfoliating scrub/brush ur lips with a toothbrush.

neat hair = a polished look

keep ur nails trimmed, filed, and polished and if u wanna do a little extra get them manicured

address skin concerns so that then you can get glossy skin

make sure all ur metals match and color coordinate

keep it simple

details make a difference

shape ur brows

whiten ur teeth + maintain good oral health

color coordinate

fixing posture

HELPFUL RESOURCES

how to smell dreamy - @flirtygirl-coterie

feminine archetypes - @prissygrlsorority

beauty binder - @prissygrlsorority

maintaining a clean and fresh appearance - by yours truly

makeup tutorial in pics - by yours truly

"your glowing" - by yours truly

general hygiene secrets and tricks - by yours truly

[softfem-dom]

bill relationship headcanons please…*claws at screen* it can even include Nsfw if you want. I just need content

a/n: of course! dating headcanons, sfw and nsfw, for Bill Dickey coming right up!

wordcount: 1,3k — masterlist 𝜗𝜚 navigation post NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI

⮞ alright, let's start off with the obvious. he's a total mysognist and I don't make the rules.

⮞ he mansplains everything. everything.

⮞ he'd be the type to see you going to grab a pickle jar and snatch it up to open it for you, but he can't so he awkwardly returns it to you only for you to open it right away.

⮞ he'll affirm he 'loosened it up' for you.

⮞ he has huge jealousy issues.

⮞ you can just be talking to a random guy on the grocery store queue and he immediately assumes you're going to leave him.

⮞ gets terribly passive-agressive about it too, acting like a moody kid about to throw a tantrum.

⮞ he thinks every guy is trying to hit on you even if it's just a cashier handing you the change with a polite 'have a good day'.

⮞ there's a fifty fifty chance that he'll either take it out on you or the other guy for it.

⮞ he refers to himself as 'your knight' and says totally cringe stuff like "I would fight to the death for you, my lady" (he has never been in a real fight in his life).

⮞ if anybody ever insults you online you can bet your ass he's immediately writting a three-pharragraph response.

⮞ he's clingy as hell. but not in a cute way, but in an extremely annoying one

⮞ he's always texting, calling, or showing up at your house. and whenever you take too long to answer, he assumes you're going to break up with him and suddenly you're being spammed with over 50+ messages.

⮞ he has no real romantic experience so he just like.. showers you in gifts... of things he likes.

⮞ like... he could randomly get you an expansion for D&D despite you not having played it in your whole life and then he is the one using it😭

⮞ he calls you the cringiest petnames ever. like bro wdym my elven princess, the goddess of my realm and my player two wtf

⮞ he has you as his phone screen. both of them. no, he will not change it.

⮞ he always brags about you to the club and they are so damn sick of it.

⮞ he always tries to impress you with his wide RPG knowdelge, rambling on for hours about some obscure lore assuming you're impressed by it lol.

⮞ he actually loses his mind if you wear something nerdy, like a Star Wars shirt or something. specially if it's his.

⮞ if you cosplay (because he forcedasked you to) a videogame/series character, specially one he likes, he goes full-feral.

now, moving onto nsfw territory...

⮞ he's horny.

⮞ all the time.

⮞ he acts like he's never been touched by a woman before (because he hasn't) and is greedy about it.

⮞ he thinks he's masking it real good, but his eyes are always drift down whenever you're near him.

⮞ he's addicted to groping. this man doesn't control himself. ass, titties, thighs, everything and anything he can reach he'll grope.

⮞ he literally read guides on how to make out, watched tutorial videos, studied like it was a damn exam.

⮞ and once he got a taste, you literally can't spend five minutes with Bill before he's leaning in to initiate a make-out season.

⮞ he's lowkey a bit of a creep. he gets hard from just smelling you on his clothes.

⮞ a pantie stealer.

⮞ he goes feral whenever you wear short skirts or tight clothes. he'll play it cool in public, but the second you're alone he pounces like a damn animal in heat.

⮞ he does the moterboating thing btw..

⮞ he's mouthy as hell and doesn't know when or how to shut up. he's groaning, grunting, babbling, rambling and choking on moans the whole time.

⮞ he always leaves marks. and visible ones where you can't hide them, he doesn't care if you told him to be subtle, he wants everyone to know you're his.

⮞ he can barely last the first times btw. real pathetic virgin behaviour. will cum in under two minutes of being inside.

⮞ would and will absolutely get off on you grinding on his lap.

⮞ he freaks out over your moans and every noise you make, the first time you moaned out his name he came on the spot —no further stimulation needed.

⮞ he wakes up with morning wood almost everyday. he can't stop thinking about sex even in his dreams.

⮞ his grip is iron tight, expect to find finger-shaped bruises on your hips after every time you fuck.

⮞ when you're fucking you're his to play with. he'll take whatever he wants, satisfy himself, and then satisfy you. his pleasure comes first, sorry.

⮞ he teases you and mocks you so much especially if he's been pent up for a while. “what’s the matter, sugar? can’t handle it?”

⮞ he pins you down. full on pressing his chest against your back or chest and forcing you down on the mattress with his whole weight.

⮞ he looooves pulling your hair, the sounds you make go straight to his head (both of them, actually-)

⮞ expect to be ordered around, because when I tell you this man is bossy I mean it.

⮞ he loves making you watch yourself on the mirror while he fucks you. "look at yourself, baby. look how good you take me, sucking me in, huh? s'needy.”

⮞ and when it's over, he'll just grin at you from above —cocky, smug as if he just won over Josh— while panting like an animal in heat. "was good, huh? must've been if y'can't even answer to me. no, nods don't count as answers, doll"

[desireangel]

A Good Girl's Reputation | Aemond Targaryen

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Summary: It was the last place you wanted to be but nonetheless, you found yourself pulled along to a party you hosted by none other than the Targaryen's, only for spilled wine to force you into Aemond's shirt. A sight that had him dragging you to his bed, eager to corrupt the well-behaved girl who had set him ablaze with desire.

Word Count: 6.7k.

Warnings: MDNI 18+ only!! Oral (f receiving), unprotected P in V sex, dirty talk!!, a major cliche on the good girl trope, reader is shy!, slight degradation, mean friends at a party maybe?, Aegon being sneaky, bad language. Unedited. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Author's Note: Okay, I wasn't going to post this one because it was purely self-indulgent and I kinda wasn't happy with my pen game in this but I was feeling bad about the delay in Dark Cherry part 5 so wanted to share something!! I also love the idea of Aemond being totally feral about seeing reader in his clothes. Share your thoughts my loves, I'm more than happy to discuss things, thoughts and feedback with you all - xoxo, kisses!! <3

There was a nonsensical grandeur about everything that Jilly dragged you into. This time was no different and you silently waited for the sound of the elevator ding while listening to your best friend chatter about the ‘world’s best fucking boyfriend–wait, do you think this makes him my boyfriend?’

“I don’t know, Jilly,” you nibbled on your lip, craning your neck to look around the corner of the entrance hallway. For what reason, you weren’t sure but there was a crawling nervousness on your skin and the urge to make sure there were no unexpected surprises was consuming. “It’s Aegon. Only he can answer that question for you.”

The elevator was taking an infuriatingly long time. You wondered if this was the building’s way of telling you to turn around and return to the dorm room that had become your safe haven over the last two years. Jilly had somehow gotten herself involved with none other than Aegon Targaryen, a man notorious for his partying and hedonism.

It was entertaining at first, and you were more than happy to remain a spectator of the ridiculous pairing. Jilly was entirely different to Aegon and tended to carry herself with a lot more modesty than Aegon was known for. She was calculating and calm where he was impulsive and excitable. 

You thought back to the first time they had met. In a tutorial for a statistics class you needed to take to meet course requirements, the three of you paired together to facilitate a useless discussion on probabilities. The bickering between the two of them was amusing and the first greeting that Aegon had graced the two of you with was a grumbled ‘what kind of name is Jilly?’

And weeks later, Aegon had decided to hold another one of his campus-famous house parties. He had obviously invited Jilly–and by extension he had invited you because there was no chance Jilly would go to a party without you. In fact, before she had met Aegon, there was no chance Jilly would go to any party regardless. 

A loud, excited hmph! fell from Jilly’s lips when the elevator doors finally opened. You had hoped it had broken down on its way to pick you up and that there was a rather convenient lack of staircase to climb instead. 

“I don’t think–”

“Don’t say it,” Jilly held a hand in front of your face. She clicked on P with her other hand. For the penthouse, you guessed. “I know you don’t want to be here. But we are going to have a good night.” 

You sighed, tugging the short, black skirt that Jilly had wrestled you into further down your thighs. It looked good paired with the white satin button down you had insisted on wearing for comfort but it was shorter than you were accustomed to. The thought of maintaining it enough so it didn’t ride up past your bum was tiresome but there was no arguing which you could do to wiggle your way into some pants instead. 

Jilly snickered. “Quit fiddling with your skirt, you’ll poke a hole in your tights–Oh!”

The two of you shared a gasp when the doors opened. No wonder people had so much to say about the Targaryen siblings and their parties when their apartment looked like it was straight out of a Forbes magazine. For a moment, it seemed impossible that the apartment housed two students. It was incomparable to the wardrobe sized dorm you had been living in over the semester. 

Distant chatter pulled you out of your thoughts and you followed Jilly further into the apartment, reminding yourself not to let your jaw drop as your eyes adjusted to the dimmed lighting. The party was an hour or so away from starting - Aegon had told everyone to head in after seven but had given Jilly an earlier time so that the two of you could join their pre-game. 

Not that you would. The prospect of getting as drunk as Aegon planned at your (embarrassingly?) first student party was daunting. 

Anxiously, you followed Jilly into the living area where a handful of familiar faces were lounging and drinking. There was a deep bumping of bass, and you could feel the floor vibrating with it, but you couldn’t make out the song that was playing. 

“Jill!” Floris, Aegon’s friend who you had only ever seen on campus, pulled Jilly towards the nearest couch. Hesitantly, you followed, flashing Aegon and Cregan a purse-lipped smile as they made their way to greet you. “We were worried you wouldn’t show up. Is this your friend?”

With a smile, you introduced yourself. Floris only grinned at you before returning her attention to Jilly, who had started up an animated conversation with Helaena. Aegon whistled at Jilly, tipping the neck of his beer in her direction as if to say hello, and threw his other arm around your shoulder. 

He laughed when you cringed, pulling back from him slightly. Aegon smelled like a mixture of beer, red wine and sandalwood cologne. “We placed bets on whether you’d show up. Glad you did. There’s multiple motherfuckers in here who owe me a silver stag each. Not that I need it.”

You spluttered a bit. “What-” 

“Relax,” Cregan teased you from the other side of Aegon. He was clearly drunk. “You’re clearly not much of a party girl but that changes two-” he held up two fingers and then aggressively pointed them down at the floor with a jerk. “-night.” 

Aegon laughed, handing you a glass of wine which suddenly appeared in his hand. You shook your head and he shrugged, downing it himself. He turned away from you, waving someone down. “Aemond!”

Oh gods, no. 

You tried to keep your smile on your face. Aemond fucking Targaryen was leaning against a counter, a beer loosely hanging between his fingers. He was in the middle of a conversation with Criston Cole, a friend of their family who you had heard of only through mindless campus gossip. Aemond glanced toward Aegon in response, an eyebrow raised lazily. 

If there were ever a man you had crushed on, it really had to be him. It was a little bit maddening because you were exactly like your peers in thinking Aemond may be the most attractive man you’d ever see in your lifetime. He was tall, had an air of darkness and mystery to him and his silver hair framed his defined cheekbones and sharp jawline perfectly. But it was the severity in everything about him that had caught your eye–right from the first lecture you had seen him in. 

Aemond, as you understood, had no idea who you were. And while you knew exactly who he was, it wasn’t odd. Everyone knew of him and his family. He had practically been birthed into the public eye. 

“This pretty thing here,” Aegon, much to your protest, had pulled you across the room to introduce you. “Jilly’s best friend. Much like you, dear brother, she hates parties and is not here by her own will. You’d get along.”

Aemond looked at you and you suddenly had no idea what to do with yourself. You met his eye, fiddling with the hem of your skirt and waiting for whatever this moment was to end quickly. Your skin was tingling under his gaze which dropped from your head to your feet and then back to your face. 

When he didn’t say anything, you offered him a tight lipped smile and a timid wave. “Hi?”

He was going to respond. You could see it in the way he had moved but Aegon was quick to cut him off, ever the loud mouthed brat. As subtle as Aegon believed himself to be, he was an incredibly obnoxious drunk.  

“Surely,” Aegon drawled, wrapping his arms around Jilly’s waist when she appeared by your side and pulling her into him tightly. Mockingly, he targeted his question at Jilly but switched his gaze between her and Aemond. “Your little-good-girl friend could use a bit of corrupting, Jills. Seems like Aemond would be entirely capable, from what Floris has–”

“That’s enough, Aegon,” Aemond’s voice was smooth and darker than you’d expected. He gave you a small, reassuring yet tight smile. “Don’t be an ass. Let her be.”

You were a little breathless. Sure, you didn’t quite let go of yourself as much as everyone else did but you were no prude. Right? 

There was no offence intended in Aegon’s teasing but you couldn’t help but feel the sting. He was right–you were relatively good. All of your time and effort went into studying and working. Where you weren’t doing either of those, you preferred the solitude of a good book at a quiet cafe. There were very few bad habits in your life, the worst of which would only be the likes of a dependence on tea or coffee. Parties were a rarity but on the odd occasion you would tag along wherever Jilly would go. And, regardless of that, here you were.

It was embarrassing. You had hoped that if you were to ever introduce yourself to Aemond, things would go slightly better than this and your uptight prudish reputation (which you didn’t realise you had until today) would remain undiscussed. He was different and he didn’t tend to spend his time with people of your tendencies. Aemond was the object of everyone’s desires; if they didn’t want to have him then they certainly wanted to be him. 

You were clearly different from his normal type. If only for the fact that he also had a reputation and that reputation consisted of a string of heartbroken girls who he had never pursued or never shared more than his bed with. Those girls were a lot more like his friends; confident, daring and well accomplished. Aemond was not Aegon; there was a lot more respect in the way people spoke of him and his academic and professional talents were impressive to most people. 

Thankfully, Jilly had pulled you away from that dreadful conversation with a harsh glare pointed at Aegon. The kitchen, which was the closest place for you to hide, was filled with snacks and drinks almost falling off of the countertops. You recognised Helaena, and waved at her.

Helaena had been a friend whenever you had bumped into each other. She was sweet and kind and you actually enjoyed her company. “It’s nice to see you, Helaena. Didn’t think we’d ever run into each other at a house party but hey, it’s been an hour full of surprises.”

She laughed with you. There was an easy flow of conversation between the two of you and when Floris and Jilly had taken to what they called ‘Kitchen Karaoke’, you had even danced together. Jilly, as drunk as she was, pushed the bottle of wine in her hand to you, waiting for you to drink. With some encouragement from Helaena and Floris, you smiled and took a few sips. 

The peace you had found in the kitchen was short lived and when Jilly, joined by Aegon and caught up in her exaggerated Lady Gaga performance, flung her arm out, the bottle of wine in her hand spilling right onto your chest and soaking through the white fabric of your shirt. 

“Shit,” she winced. It was cold and you had a small sense of panic that raised goosebumps on your skin at the thought of wearing a wet, stained shirt all night but at the drunken apologetic look on her face all you could do was force a smile. Jilly giggled nervously. “At least it makes your tits look good.”

“Right,” you mumbled, fingers pulling the wet fabric off of your skin. It was uncomfortably sticking to your skin and the smell of the red wine was beginning to catch. “No problem.”

Aegon tapped your shoulder gently and gave you an animated salute. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you something from the fresh laundry.”

You followed him into the laundry, which was only just around the corner, waiting as he grinned and shuffled through the clothes that were sitting in the dryer. When Aegon turned to you, he had a stupid toothy smile and passed you a grey shirt. “Wear that. It’ll be big but it’ll still look good with the rest of your outfit if you tuck it in or something.”

The t-shirt Aegon handed you was a little long but you weren’t going to complain when you were much happier to be in dry clothing. It was a Slipknot shirt, the graphic on the front slightly worn down with time and washes. You figured it could have been worse–at least Slipknot were good. Aegon had long gone, giving you privacy to change and when you stepped out of the laundry room, you were surprised to see that people had started piling into the apartment. 

Some hip-hop song you could barely recognise played loudly and you were a little thrown off by the crowds of unfamiliar faces. But everyone was having a good time, smiling and dancing among themselves. 

Cigarettes, cologne and coffee filled your senses and you let out a small yelp as you met with a hardened surface, stumbling a little to catch yourself. Aemond’s hands reached out to grab hold of your arms, holding you steady against him so that you wouldn’t fall to the ground. 

“Easy, missy,” he stepped back slightly, as if he were trying to get a good look at you. As Aemond dragged his gaze over you from head to toe, he smirked and hummed deeply.

The heat that rushed to your cheeks was quick and you wondered if Aemond had always smelled so delicious. Your mind was clouded by him and the way he didn’t remove his hands from you, his fingers still gently squeezing your flesh and keeping you far closer to him than you needed to be. 

Whatever it was, if he continued to look at you with so much intensity and hold you as if he didn’t want to let go of you, there was a high chance you’d do something that would only leave you disappointed and embarrassed. 

“Sorry,” you squeaked, pulling away from him in one movement and rushing into the kitchen. Jilly grinned at you, eyebrows wagging exaggeratedly in her drunken state. 

The rest of the girls had found their way to the kitchen, which had actually quietened down even more in the short moments you were away. You found yourself once again at Helaena’s side, watching as Jilly danced with her bottle of wine in hand, and failing to listen to the conversation that was somehow still in flow. 

If you were being honest, the party was a certain type of boring. There was a lot going on yet nothing at the same time and you chalked it up to the fact that you weren’t that friendly with anyone here. Helaena was only part of the crowd because she lived here and Jilly was becoming a part of Aegon’s group of mates, all of whom you knew of but had no real friendship with. 

Floris, who had been staring at you on and off since you had returned, took a sip of her drink and flashed you an odd look. “Is that Aemond’s shirt?”

Helaena giggled beside you, watching you keenly as you frowned. When you answered, Floris looked at you with narrowed eyes. You cleared your throat, nervously nibbling on your bottom lip. “I assumed it was Aegon’s since he gave it to me.”

“What was wrong with what you came in?”

“Floris, you saw that blouse get ruined,” Jilly rolled her eyes, stepping closer to you when she noticed the gentle alarm on your face. “She couldn’t have stayed in a stained top. It won't dry out until tomorrow.”

Floris only huffed, regarding you with a harsh stare and a forced shrug. There was an odd silence that lingered and you considered offering her an apology. But you quickly realised that you didn’t really have anything to apologise for, even though it is probably Aemond’s t-shirt and it was no secret that Floris was all about Aemond. 

The night was passing slowly and you continued to make small talk with the same few people you knew. But the weight of Floris’ glare never disappeared. And Aemond, with his gentle smirk and quiet confidence, had been lingering the entire night. You were half-certain that it was Floris who was the purpose of his prolonged presence in the kitchen, which had become somewhat of a break room for everyone at this point.

There was a pointed silence from him aside from the few words he had muttered in conversation with Helaena or Daeron yet his gaze was communicating more than his words could. Aemond kept looking towards you, his wanting eye holding yours assertively whenever you’d catch him watching you. You couldn’t help the heat that crept up your neck at the way he looked you up and down at every chance he got. 

It was suffocating when paired with the daggers you could feel from Floris’ stares and Aegon’s vexing grin. 

“I’m going outside for a bit,” you told Helaena, placing your glass down on the counter and flashing a pursed-lip smile at whoever caught your eye on your way towards the terrace. 

The journey to the terrace wasn’t easy and you could feel your throat closing in as you tried to squeeze through crowds of people. It was sweaty and loud, shoulders knocking and elbows bumping as you finally pushed your way through to a secluded part of the terrace, sighing at the fresh air and solitude. 

Once again, your peace didn’t last long before you caught a flash of silver in your peripheral. 

Aemond stood beside you, so close that your shoulder brushed the leather of his jacket. “You alright?” 

His proximity had turned your brain silent and you simply nodded, forcing your eyelids not to flutter shut at his delicious smell. There was a comfortable silence that followed. He rested his elbows on the railing as you were, relaxing against it and watching the street below. 

A tickle on your cheek from a loose strand of Aemond’s hair following the breeze woke you up from the haze you were entering. “Not enjoying the party?”

“I don’t like parties,” he chuckled, reaching into his pocket. 

You snickered, eyes trailing across his hands as he fiddled with a packet of cigarettes and a lighter. Taking a moment to admire the way his rings complemented his nimble yet clearly strong fingers, you couldn’t believe how attractive a man’s hands could be.  “You’re not like your brother, then. That’s good–couldn’t handle having two Aegon’s about.”

Aemond shook his head, smiling as he held the box out to you. “Thankfully my brother and I are not alike. Cig?”

“Not for me.”

He hummed, popping a cigarette between his lips and holding the lighter to it. “Good. Do you mind?”

You didn’t have much else to say other than a shrug, letting him know it was alright for him to smoke. It would hardly be anything to complain about with the way Aemond seemed to look ten times sexier with a cigarette between his fingers and hanging from his lips. 

“I guess your reputation isn’t a lie,” Aemond let his eye fall to you, holding a world of darkness and sin as he smirked at you. A cheeky grin played on his lips as he turned to his side, resting on his arm and leaning back a bit to look at you better. 

You swallowed thickly. A wave of heat to your core had you turning away from him, the intensity of how he looked at you like you were tempting all of his urges. “I just try to stay clear of bad habits. It doesn’t really matter.”

“So you are a good girl,” Aemond leaned closer, his fingers gently tipping your head upwards at your chin. He was closer than he was before you had blinked and all of your senses were overwhelmed by him. “I like that. I wonder if Aegon was right about us.”

Because of the way he was holding your chin, firmly and gently at the same time, you had no choice but to meet his gaze. Goosebumps arose on your skin and you shivered despite the burn of his fingers on your skin. 

“Let me take you somewhere more comfortable,” Aemond drawled. The air grew charged when he grazed his lips against yours, so softly it was almost nonexistent. “They all thought I would be the one to corrupt you but I can show you all the ways you’ve corrupted my mind instead.”

The small gasp that fell from your lips made his jaw tick and he let go of your chin, dragging the knuckles of his fingers across your cheek affectionately. 

You nodded and cleared your throat quietly, surprised at your own eagerness. “But I don’t understand.”

“I think you do,” Aemond gently lowered his hand to hold your hip, letting one last puff of smoke out before putting his cigarette out. He guided you inside, keeping you right in front of him and his free arm loosely extended in front of your body to stop people from pushing into you. His lips lingered at your ear all the while. “You were already a pretty little thing, missy. But I never could have guessed that you’d be so fucking delicious in my clothes.” 

You were grateful that you weren’t facing him. He couldn’t see the flush that had crossed your expression and had you shying away gently but only to sink further against his chest as he led you through a quieter hallway. When Aemond pushed open the door to his bedroom, he finally noticed your dishevelled state and let out an affectionate huff. 

Only letting go of you for a moment so that he could close the door behind him, Aemond had turned you to face him and pulled you back to your place against his body. His bedroom was pointedly his; neat and collected, the walls decorated with a few posters of the bands he likes and bookshelves that were almost filled entirely. It smelled like clean linen and his cologne. 

“Wait.” You remembered the girl who had been far more than unhappy to see you in his shirt and stiffened. “I thought you and Floris-”

“Floris and I are nothing,” Aemond was calm when he spoke, still watching you with that fierce desire that you had felt from him when you bumped into him earlier on. You swallowed down your apprehension visibly, avoiding eye contact. “I promise.”

Odd, considering you were well aware he didn’t need to promise you anything. 

Aemond watched your chest heave with your heavy breaths, covered entirely by his favourite t-shirt which draped perfectly from your breasts. A hand returned to your hip, squeezing lightly while the other rested at the crevice of your neck and shoulder, his fingers tickling your warm skin. 

He pursed his lips, hyper aware of how tense you were in his hands. “Tell me to stop and I will. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can just chat and get to know each other.” 

“No,” you shook your head.“I don’t want you to stop.”

It was impossible to resist the way that Aemond was pulling you against him, as if you weren’t close enough despite how you were pressed flush against him and the fabric of your clothing was all that could fit between the two of you. Gods, he smelled so good. 

Confident with your reassurance, Aemond dipped his head so close to yours that you were sharing air, his smirk returned when he felt you shiver against him. “Are you nervous?” 

“I don’t usually do this,” you muttered, eyelids fluttering shut when he brushed the tip of his nose against your cheek and pressed a featherlight kiss beside your lips, dragging them to your jaw when you instinctively moved to try catch his lips in the kiss you only now realised you were craving. But you failed and he cheekily worked away from your attempted kiss. His lips felt good on your skin and a soft gasp in his ear had him squeezing your hip harder. It reminded you what you were telling him. “We technically just met.”

He never stopped placing the smallest of kisses along your jaw, moving them towards your neck. “Technically?”

“We have a couple lectures together.”

The thought that it was rather surprising that he had never noticed much of you crossed Aemond’s mind but when you let your hand fall to his chest, fisting the lapel of his jacket and tugging like you needed him more than oxygen, it disappeared into a haze of your perfume and warmth. 

Aemond hummed as you noticed he did often. “Does it count if I take you out the day after?”

“I’m sure it does,” you bit your lip to hide your smile, frowning when he pulled away from your neck. “But only if you really want–”

All your thoughts were lost when Aemond swallowed your words, his lips finding yours eagerly. You moaned against him, stiffening for a moment as your skin flushed under his touch but returning his vigour when he laced his fingers through your hair, holding it in a tight fist. It was a perfectly coordinated mess of tongue and teeth, and Aemond never once faltered in his fervour. 

Blindly, you let him guide you to the bed, pulling him down without breaking the kiss when the edge of the bed hit the back of your legs.

In the soft glow of candlelight, the both of you were enveloped in a world of your own. The air was thick with anticipation as your bodies drew closer, the heat shared between you palpable. You tilted your head back, inviting his lips to trace a path along your neck, each kiss sending your blood rushing to your core.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin.

“Everything, Aemond.”

As his hands found their way under his shirt, fingers gliding over your soft skin, you let out a soft gasp, arching into him. His hands roamed freely, seeking out the warmth beneath the soft fabric, craving your skin against his own.

You felt the weight of him above you, powerful and intoxicating. With a careful urgency, Aemond sat back momentarily, pulling you with him so that he could reach to unclasp your bra. When you moved to take the shirt off with a soft smile, he stopped you. 

“Keep it on,” Aemond placed a kiss to your clothed shoulder, running his hand across the side of your leg as he let you get rid of your bra underneath the shirt. He pulled your skirt and tights off with steady hands, humming appreciatively at the way your underwear peaked out from where the t-shirt had bunched at your hips. “I want you in my shirt only.”

You watched him, entranced, as he took in the sight of you and muttered under his breath about how perfect you were for him, his eye dark with longing. Aemond moved downwards, nestling himself comfortably between your legs, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his mouth warm and inviting. 

When you whined impatiently he smiled, a wicked glint in his eye, and returned to his explorations, kissing his way closer to your core. Aemond never took his eye off you and you could see him watching you from where he teasingly licked at the skin where your thigh met your covered womanhood. The tension in your core tightened and you jerked when he wrapped his lips around your clothed clit and sucked hard. 

Strong hands held your hips down as he wrapped his arms around your thighs, fingers pressing into the flesh of your thighs. Again, you whined at him. “You’re not very patient are you? Already so wet for me that I can taste your delicious pussy through the fabric. Tell me what you want.”

You propped yourself on your elbows, your arms quivering under your weight and breath hitching when you noticed his own clothes had been haphazardly taken off. Aemond was ridding you of your mind and he had barely done anything. “More, Aemond. I want more.”

“More what?”

“More of you,” you whined again, mouth watering at the way he gazed at you from where he was nestled. “I want more of you.”

Aemond complied, pulling your panties off as soon as your hips had lifted on his command. He gave you a pointed look, scolding you gently when you gave him a shy whimper, moving to shut your legs so he couldn’t see you spread for him. 

“Spread your legs, pretty girl,” he let out a coarse breath when you wordlessly did as he said, baring yourself to him and gracing him with a sight more tempting than all the gold and jewels the world had to offer. Aemond’s hands guided your thighs apart encouragingly. “That’s it–little bit more.”

His gentle commands were both exhilarating and daunting. The weight of his gaze was both thrilling and intimidating, sending heat rushing to your cheeks and your cunt and the chuckle coming from the man between your legs was enough to tell you that he had seen you clench around nothing. 

Trailing his kisses from your knees and down your thighs once again, Aemond groaned, fisting the bottom of the shirt that rested against your raised thigh and licking a long stripe between your folds. It had you sucking in a breath, the sensation of his wet tongue suddenly exploring your cunt taking over every part of your mind and body, your fingers grasping at the sheets when he lapped at your clit and moaned into your wetness.

“Gods, Aemond-” you made the prettiest noises but Aemond’s cock jumped at the way you said his name, giving him a newfound fervour as he ferociously sucked at your clit, flicking it with his tongue. 

Nothing you had experienced with anyone had you trembling from sensitivity and pleasure so easily. His tongue and lips moved against you expertly and he let his arms wrap around your thighs as they rested against his shoulders, using his thumbs to spread you even more for him. 

Spit mixed with your wetness, creating a slick that dripped from your cunt and tainted his chin and his cheeks but Aemond seemed only to revel in it. His cock grew painfully hard at the beautiful sounds you made and the sweet, slightly tart and metallic taste of you on his tongue. 

At a particularly harsh suck on your clit, you jerked, legs clamping shut around Aemond’s head as you felt your orgasm building faster than you had expected. “Aemond. Oh fuck, it’s good-”

“Are you going to come for me, missy?” Aemond asked and the vibrations of his voice while he continued to feast on you had you moaning out an incoherent answer. He was watching you as you nodded, head thrown back so all that he could see over your body and his t-shirt was your chin and glimpses of your blissful expression. 

Shuddering and struggling to even your breathing, a heated pleasure took you with surprising intensity. Aemond continued to suck on you, delving into you with his tongue and teasing you with his fingers as he helped you through your orgasm, groaning at the way your body tensed and your pussy clenched. 

Placing a final kiss on your clit with a cheeky grin, making his way up your body, enjoying the way you continued to tremble and whimper under his touch. He took a nipple into his mouth through the shirt, teasingly only giving it a moment of attention before his lips were back on yours. 

Sharing the taste of you, Aemond kissed you hungrily despite having done the same within your folds only seconds ago. It was unbelievably hot in the room and you became dizzy with how your body gave into his, moulding against him perfectly as his hips found their place between your legs. 

Aemond’s voice was dark and confident, dripping with lust. 

But you salivated at the thought of taking him in your mouth and tried to push him back. “I want you in my mouth too.”

“Not tonight.” His hand found one of your breasts, touching you over the shirt. When you pouted at him, legs still jerking around his hips, Aemond softly moaned. “Aren’t you full of surprises? Good girl like you, so eager to suck me.”

Hot and heavy, Aemond grinded his cock against you, pressing it deliciously to your clit and then taking its place with his fingers. He wondered whether the pout on your lips would disappear when he pushed a digit into you, satisfied to see it fall away and be replaced with a furrow of your eyebrows and a silent gasp. 

Keening at both his words and the way that Aemond slid another finger in and curled them inside you, searching for that spot that had your toes curling, you were increasingly desperate to taste him now that you had felt how hard and ready he was for you. “Please, let me taste you.”

“You’ll have plenty of opportunities for that.” He sighed deeply when you moaned loudly, grasping at his shoulders and pressing your face into his neck. “I would kill to feel your pretty lips on my cock. Do you want to know what I think, missy?”

Aemond was intoxicating, sending your body into overdrive and your mind hazy with need. All you could do was nod, lost in the way he was perfectly bringing you to so much bliss. 

“I think,” he purred. “That I’m going to make you mine. And that I’ll fuck the well-behaved girl right out of you in each and every shirt that I own.”

Gasping for air as he pushed himself into you, replacing his fingers with his cock, you clung to him as he stretched you out. There was a sharp sting from his size but it subsided quickly and you could feel the effects of Aemond’s cock in you all the way down your legs and to your toes. 

Aemond’s breath hitched, his eye holding yours as he gave you time to adjust, jaw clenched and holding you tightly as if he’d fall to the pits of the hells if he were to let go of you. 

For someone he had just met properly only hours ago, Aemond thought he had found his own heaven in you and your body. 

You mewled, pushing your hips forward greedily. “It feels so good-so good, Aemond.”

He slowly moved his hips, hissing and letting his forehead fall to your shoulder where he bit down gently. The way Aemond pushed deeper into you at every thrust forward stole your breath from your lungs each time. He felt like he was a virgin once again, feeling the comfort of a wet, hot cunt for the first time, losing the control he had over the urge to claim you properly and spill into you already.

Aemond was no stranger to the pleasures of the body but never had he fallen victim to weakness by a woman and Aemond was of half a mind to understand that he would do anything you asked of him simply because your bodies were a carnally perfect fit. Right now, he would burn down cities if you asked him to. 

Keeping the steady pace, Aemond’s thrusts became more forceful, driving into you harder and drawing out nonsensical murmurs and whimpers from you. It was white-hot, each thrust sending a barrage of pleasure and sensitivity through your body. 

“If only they could see you now,” Aemond’s tone was deep, laced with lust and somewhat desperate as his hips snapped into you, the sound of skin against skin and his cock pushing lewd sounds from your wetness that couldn’t be drowned out by the distant thump of the party’s music. “The perfect, innocent girl that they all believe you to be, squeezing my cock like a good little slut. Just for me.”

Blissful, incoherent sounds that he pulled from only spurred him on further and you could feel how his cock twitched and moved within you. The way that Aemond’s body fit with yours was perfect and it had that tension return to your stomach, your skin tingling and toes curling as he sped up his movements. It was blinding and deafening at the same time, stealing your breath from you each time he dragged his cock out only to push it back in. 

Shaking and trembling, your legs squeezed around his hips and Aemond grunted, his head falling to your shoulder as he grabbed the flesh of your thigh and pushing it up and holding it beside you. Angling your hips perfectly, Aemond’s rough thrusts found a sensitive spot and you gasped, back arching off the bed as you gripped him tightly in your arms. You were barely of the right mind to notice him hiss when your nails scraped across his skin. 

Aemond was convinced he had found a version of peace in your body, the feeling of your warmth and wetness squeezing him, quieting the loud, painful thoughts that never ceased in his mind. He swore, his voice constrained and his fingers digging further into your flesh. There wouldn’t be a day that could go by in which he wouldn’t be haunted by your perfect cunt and pretty sounds. It was a thought that would have had him scoffing in any other circumstances but he was so lost in you that he couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn. 

“You are so fucking-” he groaned. “Tight. Made to fit my cock perfectly.”

“Aemond-”

He chuckled, enjoying the way his name was the only word you could force out between your moans. Aemond’s hips stuttered as you clamped down around him, your eyes rolling back and falling shut as you turned away from him reflexively, pressing your head into the pillow and whining pathetically. 

“Yes, missy?” Aemond’s voice was constricted but still smooth. 

“Gonna come–I’m gonna come,” you gasped out between whimpers and moans, calling out his name as if he was your salvation.

Aemond let go of your thigh, his fingers clasping around your throat and squeezing the sides enough so that he could force your head out of the pillow. “Look at me when you come, pretty girl.”

When your eyes met his, you were surprised to see that his eyepatch hadn’t been discarded but couldn’t linger on the thought. Not with the way that overwhelming tension had become too much, coiling in your stomach and making you quiver underneath Aemond’s strong body, coming to its peak and snapping with an earth shattering, burning intensity that forced your entire world to go quiet. 

With strained gasps, Aemond’s peak quickly followed yours and he pulled out, surprised to see how swiftly your hand replaced his. You felt the ropes of his hot seed fall onto your stomach, the warmth of his breath against your skin as he buried his face into your neck, heaving as he rode through the strength of his orgasm. 

Strings of curses came from him as he let his body fall to the space beside you. Aemond barely wasted two seconds before pulling you into him so that your head rested against his chest as he held you against him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, letting yourself melt into him, too spent to spare a thought for the mess on your stomach. “But I doubt I’ll be feeling so great tomorrow.”

A deep chuckle vibrated against your ear. “I’d apologise but I’m afraid I wouldn’t mean it.”

“Cheeky.”

Aemond took a hold of your wrist when you slapped his chest gently, bringing your hand up to place a kiss on your knuckles before letting his hand fall to that spot on your hip. “I wasn’t lying you know.”

“About?” You raised an eyebrow, craning your neck so that you could see his face without moving away from him. 

“I will take you out.” Aemond grinned, squeezing your flesh playfully. “And I will fuck you in every single one of my t-shirts.”

[sobbingscripter]

Tags: [mlw][mdni][established relationship][oral (f! receiving)][fingering][shower sex][wrongful use of water][wet t-shirt][temple kisses][i don't make the rules, but there's a lot of them][grinding but not where you thinkkk~][maybe food play, idk][just the tip][missionary][mating press]

Wally had a plan.

A good plan, relatively thorough, and romantic. All of which were crucial to whether or not this date would go good.

A good, sweet morning wrapped up in the loving embrace of your arms, paired with the sweet, tightness of your cunt cockwarming him while the sun rises from just below the horizon. With the feeling of your fingers carding through his hair, your lips ghosting over his jaw and murmurs of sweet 'I love you's in the air.

Then, you'd have breakfast that HE learnt how to make. Through numerous WikiHow articles and YouTube tutorials.

Then, you'd go about your day where flowers would be mailed to your job, and the two of you would have a nice lunch. Specifically, a picnic in the park and for dinner, you'd have take-out and the scallions in the soup would be shaped like cute hearts, because if your love is in soup, it's eternal.

But noooooooooooo.

The universe has a fucked up way of ruining the speedster's hopes and dreams.

The takeout place burns down, the flower company doesn't get his order, he oversleeps so he doesn't get to make you the whole, magical experience of cockwarming while he feeds you breakfast.

"I'm sorry." Wally murmurs softly. "I should've planned better."

Rain continues to soak through his shirt, the fabric getting heavier and clinging to his torso in the way that makes your eyes linger, a slow smile spreading on your face as you unabashedly watch the way the shirt sticks to his tightly toned belly. Abs on display in the most demure yet slutty way.

"It's okay."

You reassure softly, although your eyes don't move from where you can see his nipples through his shirt.

"Are you seriously staring at my nipples?" Wally let's out a choked laugh, dimples deepening in his cheeks as he looks down at you, gingery hair wet and clinging to the back of his neck, as well as his forehead.

Your outfit's less soaked than his.

Seeing as he made a makeshift gazebo with his windbreaker, using his speed to his advantage to tie the arms to the lowest hanging branches and tucking either of the ends between messy and spiky edges of the branches.

Too small to accomodate both of you but good enough to keep you from thoroughly soaking your plaid Chanel skirt and you shift, your boots scuffing against the wet grass.

"Yeah." You hum softly. "They're so cute and like, hard."

Reaching out, you press down one of his perky nipples and Wally snorts. "Freak."

"Come stand with me. You're gonna get a cold." You chide Wally with a huff, grabbing the front of his shirt and tugging him out of the rain, his body pressed against yours and strong, muscular hands move to bracket your hips, his thumbs brushing over the flesh your fluffy knit sweater fails to over and he looks down at you.

Fucking hearts in his eyes.

The moment seems perfect right now. Raindrops pelting around you, the sound of wet grass sloshing underneath your boots as you shift at the feel of nipping cold and a warm hand moves to cup your cheek as Wally leans down, his lips pressed against yours. It's so sweet.

He kisses you like it's the only slow thing he'll ever do. Lips moving against yours in a slow, synchronised motion that you both seem to fall into so flawlessly, his hand on your hip shifts and instead, his arm's wrapped around your waist while your own hands interlace at the nape of his neck.

You can barely hide the giggle that leaves you when you feel the way Wally's hand lowers, taking the sweet and romantic opportunity to slide his hand beneath your skirt. Damp digits paw at the fat of your ass and you pull away.

"Creep." You mock him, nipping at his bottom lip and you see the pretty twinkle of his eyes as he stares down at you, a grin on his face, freckles dusted over his rosy cheeks.

"Guilty." He hums softly, before leaning forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"We should get out of the rain, yeah?" There's a low huskiness to his voice, a sweet yet sultry tone that hints that there's a lot more waiting for you at home than there was waiting for you at the park.

And you nod your head, bashful and adoring as you murmur a soft 'mhm'.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋❤️་༘🎀˚˖𓍢ִ🌹˚.

Hot water sprays down on your skin, and you let out the softest sigh, frozen bones easing at the warmth before the shower door is abruptly opened and Wally stands in all his freckled glory.

Hair still damp from the rain, that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Scoot over." He instructs, but he's already stepping over the threshold of the shower, shutting the door behind him and readjusting the showerhead to spray more in his direction.

Wally's always been a bit of a selfish showerer.

His body nearly presses yours against the tiled walls as he soaks up the scalding water, letting out controlled breaths before meeting your narrowed gaze and he lets out the softest little breath. And he reaches towards the temperature dial, shifting and switching it, until the water's a pleasant, lukewarm temperature before he hums.

"Upsy-daisy." He lifts you with ease, your knees hooked over the crooks of his elbows, your back pressed against his chest and he presses a sloppy kiss against your temple.

"Wally, what are you— oh..." The gruff complaints die in your throat when Wally shifts your body towards the shower stream, your thighs spread obscenely wide as the solid stream of water pelts down against your clit, and you purse your lips, brows knitting at the pleasure that's not quite enough to get you anywhere but it's nice enough for you to not want it to stop.

Wally hums in pride, freckled cheeks splitting into a grin as you feel the muscles of his core flex absentmindedly, his cock twitching to life, hardening and pressing itself against your neglected cunt. And he presses the sweetest kiss against your cheek, loving and adoring before he breathes your name so sweetly.

"Help me out?" He coos softly. "Just the tip, though. I wanna make you feel good."

You nod your head, biting your bottom lip as you reach down between your thighs, grabbing a hold of his cock and you give his tip a few swipes of your thumb, feeling the way his breath hitches against your back before you ease his flushed tip into your hole.

Just the tip.

Wally can't help the way he sighs at the warmth of your cunt, wrapped so sweetly around his leaky tip as you spasm so subtly. And he clicks his tongue, his hips twitching and giving you the most shallow thrusts, all as he reaches for the showerhead, detaching it and bringing it closer.

"Wally, I don't think—"

Your opinion dies quicker than you'd like to admit because when the water pressure changes, and Wally's controlling the placement, you feel your head tip back against his broad chest. Your lashes flutter closed and faint moans leave your parted lips as your thighs tense and flex, although they're still kept in a long distance relationship.

"You look so pretty." Wally coos sweetly, cheeks flushed and his wet body feeling slightly cold at the breeze that creeps into the bathroom and he dips his head, pressing a soft kiss against your lips before asking you, so sweetly.

"How do you wanna come?"

That question has no business making your cunt drool, walls and nerve endings burning with that sickening desire to come as many times as you can and you swallow.

Sure, this feels great but nothing beats—

"Your tongue and fingers."

You sigh softly, bringing up one hand to curl in his wet hair, nails scratching at his scalp so affectionately.

"Nasty, greedy girl. Tongue and fingers?"

Wally teases you but he wastes no time in setting you on your feet, placing the showerhead back on its spot and kneeling in front of you.

The muscles in his thighs spread out, his core tensing and his cock twitching upwards at the water that pelts down onto the two of you. It's a comforting spray, warmer than before so Wally must've changed the temperature while you were trying to find your brain.

And he guides one of your thighs to rest over his shoulder, the heel of your foot bumping against his back and Wally presses a kiss against your inner thigh. And he places your hands on his head, before lowering his head.

He drags his flattened tongue over your cunt, tasting your slick and feeling you throb against his tongue and he groans softly. Your fingers tangle in his hair, head tipping back against the condensating tiles and you let out the softest sigh. Your tummy tenses when he swirls his tongue around your clit, just before he dips it into your cunt, only for a little bit.

He can taste himself just a bit, the taste of his precum has drastically improved since you've started seeing each other.

Maybe because instead of living off energy drinks and take out, Wally's seeing fruit on a daily basis, instead of treating it like a distant relative.

Two fingers plunge into your cunt at a speed that makes your belly dip inward and your hands fist his hair tighter, a low moan leaving your lips and Wally lets out a boyish giggle.

"Yeah. Does it feel good?" He coos softly, juniper gaze lifting to glance up at your face, seeing the way your brows scrunch in that adorable way, the way your lips part to let out whimpers and whines as his tongue rolls around your clit, suckling at the bud until you let out a pitched moan.

Wally hurls you at your oncoming orgasm with the strength and speed that a cat knocks a glass off the table. And you nearly scream, your knees giving out beneath you but Wally keeps you steady as you buck against his face, his tongue and fingers working in tandem to draw out your orgasm for as long as possible.

Because he loves watching the way you crumble against a damp, tiled wall. Hair clinging to your forehead, face ruddy and hot breaths mingling with the steam in the air and you look so fucking gorgeous when you look down at him through bleary eyes. Watching as his tongue cleans up the slick that paints your puffy pussy with glossiness, licking along your thighs before Wally rises, forearms braced on either side of your head before he smiles down at you, head cocked and he presses a kiss against your forehead.

"You good, pretty?"

You can barely nod your head as Wally's hands move to bracket your hips, thumbs brushing over the protruding bones as his head dips to press kisses along the curve of your neck. Before his hand shifts, to squeeze the fat of your ass, feeling the flesh in his calloused palms and he groans softly.

"Shit." He breathes out before swallowing. "Okay, we're gonna finish showering, then you're gonna order pizza while I get the room ready and then we're gonna... Fix this Valentine's Day, okay?"

This is the most instructions Wally's ever given you. Literally ever.

And you can't deny that it's kind of sexy.

˚˖𓍢ִִ໋❤️་༘🎀˚˖𓍢ִ🌹˚.

"Wally, I'm eat—" Your words are broken up in a gasp, cheese, sauce and doe tucked into either of your cheeks and you shift, letting out a slurred whine while Wally's hands pry your thighs apart.

"Don't be selfish." Wally hisses, his tongue curling against your overstimulated clit, sensitive bud peeking out from between your folds and he forces your legs apart, your plate resting on your belly, and Wally lays down on his stomach as he sucks your clit so sweetly, peeking up at you over the decorated porcelain rim of your plate. And you whine, completely unsure of which route to take.

You could keep eating.

Or Wally could keep eating.

"Just keep eating." Wally's nose bumps against your clit, his tongue tracing hearts over your cunt before he flicks it just right, and he rests his head against the flesh of your thigh.

And he doesn't even pretend that it's tedious.

Delightful hums leave his lips in the form of low, reverberating groans, his grip on your thighs borders on almost clingy as he paws at whatever flesh he can get to and his sock-covered feet kick. You don't even have the time to question why his socks has your pictures on it before he's tucking two fingers away in your gummy walls.

Gently curling them, sweetly coaxing you towards another orgasm that has your heels digging into his back, your eyes rolling back and your hand nearly dropping the cheesy slice. And you whimper.

"Wally... 's too much, too sensitive...—" You gasp with a whine, lashes fluttering and tears brimming at the corners of your mouth as his fast flicks and his eagerness make you see God.

Wally ignores you.

Blatantly.

Only lifting his head to scowl at you before ducking back down, his feet kicking and his hips occasionally grinding against the messy sheets, a perfect hill for him to rub against like an animal in heat.

Needy, whiny and so, so achingly hard.

He lets out a familiarly whiny groan, tears brimming on his lower lashline, green eyes becoming bleary as he sucks, nips, drags his tongue and circles. All in perfect movements and God, being a speed freak really had it's perks.

Including the fact that he had the uncanny ability to make you come whenever he wanted to.

A walking, talking vibrator.

Wally coaxes your third orgasm out of you, slick dribbling down his chin and his palm, before he lifts himself, carding his fingers through his hair and staring at you with a heated gaze.

His broad chest heaves, his carved abdomen tenses and flexes, and his hands rest on your thighs, warm palms easing the almost painful burn in your core, and your gaze lowers. Lowers all the way to below that gingery happy trail and you swallow.

"Wally, did you come?" You question softly, lips pursed as you try not to let out a snort of laughter as pearly beads continue to be pushed out with each twitch of his still-hard cock.

"I got really into it." He's not even embarassed, simply moving the messy sheets out of the way and guiding your thighs over his, and notching the flushed tip of his cock at your sopping, slick-soaked pussy.

And he pushes into you, hands grasping the sheets before he stops. Abruptly.

"I need to pull out." Wally announces and you wish you could say he was joking. But his expression doesn't say he's joking.

"Like, right now?"

"Literally right now. Please don't move. I'll lose so much aura, baby, please. Keep still."

Wally begs you, and like a normal woman, and a woman in love, you obviously start to clench and spasm around his leaky tip. And Wally whines.

"You're gonna make me come..." He whimpers, bringing his hand up to bracket your face, forcing you to look away from him.

Wally knows you'll never let it down if you see the way he looks. All red and flushed, weak and teary-eyed as he tries to keep his cool.

He doesn't get why now, of all times, his stamina's playing games with him but he does know one thing.

"Can I come inside?"

Taglist:

@lucky-beheaded 🌻

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@allycat4458 🪻

@anesthesia-4rizzle 🎀

@feral010 ✨

@blckbarbiedoll 🌷

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@couldeatthatgirlforlunch 🦄

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@whyiisgamora 👽

@queen-of-gotham 🦇

[abbyshands]

SPENCER’S!ELLIE

⋆𐙚₊˚ content warning: 18+, fem!reader implied, sub!reader, dom!ellie, vibrator usage, the back of spencer’s just says it all, abby feature, praise, use of baby, reader wears glasses

⋆𐙚₊˚ READ THIS FIRST. | LINKS FOR PALESTINE | DAILY CLICK

⋆𐙚₊˚ MASTERLIST

oh, nothing, just thinking about spencer’s!ellie who’s seen many girls in your place before, but could have sworn you shouldn’t have been in a store like this. like, really shouldn’t have been. your friends had dared you to give the store a browse because allegedly, you were too innocent. ellie’s quickly drawn to you in that cute skirt and glasses, clutching your messenger bag like a lost puppy. and quickly, she’s drawn to you, the first to say “welcome to spencer’s” when you walk in.

spencer’s!ellie whose best friend and coworker, abby anderson, bets you’ve never even seen a dildo before. spencer’s!ellie whose best friend and coworker, abby anderson, is right.

spencer’s!ellie who finally walks up to you browsing the back of the store, looking like you met the devil in the flesh. “you good back here?” she’d ask you, causing you to jump out of your head and back into the present. nervously, you nod. “what? yes. yes, i’m fine. just fine,” but it’s a lie. you’re here wondering if human anatomy even allows for most of these toys to in fit any holes of the body. spencer’s!ellie, who you ask to recommend you a product, that’s according to you, “small,” and “tame.” she chuckled at how shy you seemed to make the request. “like a vibrator, baby?” she asked, like it was common knowledge, like everyone knows vibrators were always the answer. she shows you one, a small blue bullet that seems easy enough to use, but dumbly, you ask, “so it just, does the work for me?”

spencer’s!ellie who can’t miss this chance. “oh, baby. maybe i should give you a little tutorial,” and of course, you agree, because who wouldn’t want those emerald eyes on their own while getting fucked with a vibrator? “come with me.”

spencer’s!ellie who ended up shoving you into a closet in the backroom of the store, sat on a chair, skirt pulled up as she rubbed the vibrator in slow, delicious motions over your aching clit. ellie’s hand was over your mouth, shushing you so you were inaudible. “shhh, be quiet, baby. you don’t want people to hear, do you?” she asks, her voice a whisper as she carries on with her work, causing you to shake your head. “good girl.”

spencer’s!ellie who pushes the vibrator inside you just for fun, nearly laughing at the way you nearly shriek. “fuck, you are such a slut, aren’t you, baby? yeah, you like the way it feels inside you, huh?”spencer’s!ellie who’s wet at the whines and whimpers leaving your lips as your hips rock forward, her hand having fallen at this point to let you speak, because it was too hard to resist. “that’t it, attagirl. being so quiet for me, even when it feels so good. dyin’ to scream my name, aren’t you?” spencer’s!ellie who single handedly (pun intended) has you coming in the backroom of a fucking spencer’s. “you gonna come for me, baby? yeah, fuck, baby, c’mon, make a mess on my fuckin’ hand.”

everybody thank @sugarevans and our unhinged ft call yesterday for this <3