Wenclair One-Shots

Moonlit Kisses (Smut)

Summary:

After their makeout sesh is interrupted by the bell, Wednesday and Enid race to class. They make it halfway before sprinting to Ophelia Hall to finish what they started.

Warning! There is a minor blood in this! Don't like it don't read it! Both characters aged up and have the most consensual relationship!!!

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Wednesday and Enid are sprinting down one of Nevermore's gigantic hallways. The bell rang three minutes ago, but Enid couldn't stop mouthing at Wednesday's neck, and her girlfriend was making the sweetest noises and...

They aren't going to make it to Morrison's class on time.

As they round another corner and narrowly miss a giant marble statue, Wednesday skids to a stop, and Enid follows suit, seeing as they've been holding hands this entire time.

Enid looks at her with raised brows, "Are you crazy? We might be able to—"

"Morrison is stricter on tardiness than absences," Wednesday notes, hoping Enid will read between the obvious lines. "We should skip. Say you were taking care of me because of my cramps."

Enid, practically beaming, jumps a few times, her hair bouncing. "I love dating you. Let's go before someone catches us!" She pulls Wednesday in the opposite direction, back toward Ophelia Hall.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Enid is on Wednesday as soon as the heavy door to their dorm is locked. They installed a giant blackout curtain (half pink, half black) for sleeping in on the weekends, so the room is dark, aside from the large moon nightlight on Wednesday's nightstand (courtesy of her werewolf girlfriend), and the string lights Enid likes to leave on by her bed.

She pushes Wednesday's jacket off her shoulders, letting it drop to the floor, and they're both kicking off their shoes, heading toward Wednesday's bed.

It's all fast kisses and (Enid) dissolving into fits of laughter when Wednesday can't figure out how her complicated undershirt needs to be undone. Who would wear something so convoluted when no one would even see it?

Enid. As per usual.

"This is killing the mood." She grumbles, knowing that nothing can quell the heat between them.

Enid expertly unties it, now wearing a thin white cami and her Nevermore skirt. Wednesday can see the lace of her bra underneath the thin material. Something white, as the color doesn't quite bleed through. Her eyes latch onto Enid's collarbones, and she wonders what it would feel like to suck a bruise there. To feel Enid squirming and panting beneath her.

"S' for when you start taking off my clothes." Enid grins, not missing the way Wednesday's face heats at the admittance.

Wednesday shakes her head, pushing Enid down on the soft black sheets.

"I like you under me." She murmurs, sliding her hands up Enid's stomach, slowly stopping before she reaches her breasts. They haven't gone past making out and heavy petting, so Wednesday flicks her gaze up and feels a spike of arousal at how wrecked Enid looks.

Her blonde hair is fanning around her a bit, and her mouth is tipped open, but she presses her lips together when she realizes Wednesday has stopped, and she scoots up a bit, resting on her elbows.

"Is this too much?" Enid asks, whisper-soft and so, so caring.

Wednesday presses her palms into Enid's ribs, squeezing gently.

"I should be asking you."

"I'm okay with it." Enid pecks her lips. "More than okay."

She lifts one of her legs, letting her skirt ride up, and interlocks their legs.