꒰꒰﹒﹒𝒑ulling wallywest's mullet .ᐟ ꔠ﹐𝒩AVYHAZE ∿ ⸝⸝ all rights reserved. ୧ ⚟
⤷﹒ⵌ┆ 17+. MDNI. ⓘ hair pulling, pussy eating, dirty talk, big egoed-wally. first post w the new theme wooop .ᐟ.ᐟ
wally west looked like a total tool with his freshly cut mullet. the thing was immaculate—too immaculate. the sides were short and clean, the back feathered just enough to scream “regrettable summer phase.” he stood in front of you, fussing with it in the mirror like it was some complicated piece of machinery instead of a questionable haircut. his fingers raked through the fiery strands, pushing them back and forth as it there were a certain way to style a mullet.
“man, it’s so cool,” he said to himself, angling his head, squinting like a guy about to convince himself he’s hot no matter what.
to you, though, he looked like a ginger frat boy who got lost on the way to his own tailgate. then again, you supposed frat boys could be ginger.
he turned to you with that wide, boyish grin that always made it hard to stay serious. “what’dya think? mullet time, baby!” he announced, the words practically bursting out of him. before you could even answer, he grabbed your face with both hands, squishing the fat of your cheek as he pressed a loud, exaggerated kiss to the other. “does it look cool?”
you tilted your head, pretending to think hard. “hmm. you look like a rich golfing prick.”
his smile faltered instantly. “wha—seriously? just because i have a mullet?”
“yeah. only rednecks or frat guys have mullets. you look like my brother.”
“babe— we look nothing alike! c’monnn, do you really think so?” his arms slipped around your waist, warm and annoyingly clingy. he lifted you off the ground a few feet before setting you back down, pressing a rapid series of small kisses to your cheeks and nose as if that might soften your verdict.
“mmm. i don’t know,” you hummed, lips twitching up despite yourself. “it’s cute though, wally.”
his grin came back full force, bright and smug, the kind that always spelled trouble. “knew it. you think i’m irresistible now, huh?”
“now i wouldn’t say that…”
“i would. i’ll prove it.”
you quirked an eyebrow, half-amused, half-curious, but didn’t bother asking what he meant—because you already knew that look on his face.
“i dunno babe, mmf thinkin’ mfhm pretty irresistible,” his voice is muffled by the circling of his tongue, sound halfway drowned out from between your thighs. there’s a faint clicking sound emitting from the wetness of your cunt against his mouth, but neither of you focus too much on it.
your back is curled into an arch, fidgeting fingers laced into wally’s freshly cut hair. you’re not exactly pulling it — not yet, atleast. it’s more of a guidance to the all-too-eager-boy.
you gasp — sharp and helpless — as that teasing pressure circles just where you need it most.
his hands are everywhere: one braced on your hip like an anchor, the other sneaking up your thigh to grip the curve of your ass and pull you deeper into his mouth.
his mullet is ruined now — flat on one side from how you'd shoved it when he first plopped down onto the mattress — but he doesn’t care. wally west has never been more in his element.
"y'feel that?" he murmurs suddenly, pulling back just enough to drag a wicked grin along your inner thigh before looking up at you through those stupidly thick lashes. "that’s world-class technique right there, babe."
you huff a breathy laugh, trembling fingers tightening slightly in his hair — still not quite punishing yet, but getting there.
“world-class ego, maybe,” you shoot back weakly.
he grins like lightning about to strike twice — and then dives back in with renewed purpose.
lips seal over you — sucking gently as his tongue flicks faster now — inexperienced? no way. overconfident? absolutely — but damn if the results don’t speak for themselves.
your hips twitch forward instinctively and he groans around you— a deep sound that resonates straight through every nerve ending, and god help you because hearing him lose control sends a fresh pulse of heat between your legs.
"wally—" you arch harder into him this time; "don't — don’t go fast until I say so."
he lifts his head slowly — with effort — the glisten on his lips making them look unfairly kissable under harsh bedroom lighting. "but I wanna see you shake," he says innocently… then ruins it with a wink. “my bad. must’ve forgot that you think i’m ugly now.”
your cut off mid sentence and mid eye roll — given he’s now sucking you faster and obscenely loud.
one hand slips toward you while still keeping eye contact, two fingers pressing carefully inside without warning with a torturously slow speed.
a broken whimper erupts through your throat, followed by your thighs beginning to tense up around his head. a particularly loud moan of his name has him smiling mid swirl of his name on your clit.
"there she is," he whispers smugly — but there's something soft underneath all that arrogance too now. the kind that only ever comes out when it’s just the two of you alone, a warmth beneath green eyes flecked gold in lamplight. “gonna take real good care of my girl."
you give a harsh tug on his hair to get him to shut up, but it just makes his grin larger. it only falters when he slurps your clit back into his drooling mouth. his fingers curl just right, your hips stuttering toward him subconsciously. he hums, satisfied, adding to the vibrating stimulations being sent through your core.
because (of course) he’s using friction. a tiny bit of super-speed tremor humming through every movement like a built-in vibrator no mortal man could ever compete with.
“wally!” you yelp as white-hot sensation rips through you like lightning across dry sky. your back arches off the bed completely this time; spine bowing so hard one shoulder lifts until only half-your-body touches mattress now; toes claw at sheets like they’re trying to run away from what’s happening. your nails scratch at the scalp of his head, as if to deter him.
one hand grips both wrists and pins them above your head with zero effort — a one-handed capture for a boy who once caught bullets between teeth — and suddenly you’re feeling a lot more exposed. chest rising fast beneath a thin tank top; lips parted mid-gasp; wetness glistening down inner thigh where pleasure escaped faster than thought itself can track.
and still — uncaring, he works you harder.
his thumb presses tighter against sensitive bundle of nerves, while tongue darts relentless under fluttering eyelids. he’s desperately trying not to miss any detail, any flushed look on your panting face.
“‘re you close?” wally murmurs — voice deeper than before —with actual breath shaking behind syllables.
"wally—!" you scream as it hits you; a sharp, blinding crest of pleasure so intense it feels like your spine has turned to liquid.
the sound echoes off the walls of your dimly lit bedroom — reckless and loud, absolutely unfiltered; because there’s no point pretending with wally. he lives for this. lives for the way you fall apart under his touch like gravity doesn’t apply anymore.
your thighs clamp around his head instinctively — not to push him away, but to anchor yourself, like if he lets go now you might float right out of your skin and vanish into stardust. your fingers are twisted deep in his hair again — that stupid mullet long past salvation now: crushed flat on one side, damp with sweat from where your legs were squeezing him too hard not to leave a mark.
even as you tremble through the aftershocks, gasping out broken syllables between breaths, he keeps going — gentler now — just soft flicks of his tongue dragging over swollen nerves while those same clever fingers slowly pull out before pressing back in with lazy precision. “wallace —”
"shhh," he murmurs against your clit, voice rougher than before but laced with laughter. "i know 'm good. no need to beg."
"what? i wasnt—” another jolt cuts through at the curl of his fingertips and all argument dies on your lips, in favor of a high-pitched whimper instead.
“I mean,” he smirks down , dimples cutting into freckled cheeks , “if I didn’t make ya scream loud enough—I can always let you sit on my face this time.”