Tw: OOC Ajax, edging kink, cheating (not condoning it, but it’s fictional), dirty talk (idk if that should be warned about), creampie (wrap it before you tap it folks), overstimulation kink, fingering, rough sex, semi public sex, degradation kink, praise kink, dom/sub undertones, blood play/blood drinking.
ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+ IN THIS —Nevermore is a university in this one shot
Word count: 2016
The door slams behind them with a hollow echo, tile and fluorescent light casting the cramped bathroom in sterile white. But the moment Ajax locks it, it’s anything but sterile. It’s fevered. Heavy. Breathing room only and even that’s stolen the second he cages her in with his body.
“Ajax—” Dahlia hisses, her voice low, already fraying at the edges.
“Ten minutes, baby,” he murmurs, lips brushing the shell of her ear, and the smirk in his voice should be illegal. “You better feed.”
Her back hits the door, hands pinned beside her head, wrists caught in his grip like he’s memorized every vein he wants her to bite. His body’s flush against hers—heat meeting something colder, hungrier.
The worst part? He can smell it. Feel it. He doesn’t even need to look to know she’s soaked through. But he does anyway—leans back just enough to see the way her lips part, her chest rising fast, pupils blown wide. He tilts his head and grins.
“Already?” he whispers. “Thought you were the sweet twin.”
She glares at him, sharp enough to cut. Her fangs elongate instinctively, scraping her lower lip as she fights the urge. But Ajax? He’s merciless, rolling his hips against hers in a slow grind that has her core clenching around nothing. “Look at you,” he breathes, voice rough like gravel. “Eyes glowing, fangs out—my little hybrid monster, starving for it.”
She tries to twist free, but his grip tightens, snakes from his hair slithering out to coil loosely around her wrists like living cuffs—cool, scaled, and oddly intimate. A whisper of her magic escapes her control, a faint purple haze shimmering in the air, making his touch feel electric against her skin. He hisses in pleasure-pain, eyes darkening.
“Fuck, Dahlia, that spell… do it again.”
She doesn’t mean to, but her body betrays her—another pulse of witch energy, heightening every sensation. His thigh presses harder between her legs, the friction sending sparks up her spine. “Beg,” he demands, nipping at her jaw. “Or I’ll make you wait until you’re shaking.”
Her fangs ache. The smell of him—salt, sweat, that earthy sweetness only his blood carries—makes her head spin. She claws at his shirt, but he won’t move, not yet.
“Aj, please.”
He finally kisses her—no preamble, no teasing. Just devours her like he’s the one who’s starving. His hand slides between them, fingers slipping beneath her skirt, finding her soaked and throbbing.
He groans against her mouth. “Fuck. You’re dripping.”
She chokes on a gasp as he rubs slow, deliberate circles over her clit. But the moment he shifts his thigh between hers more firmly, her composure cracks completely. She lets out a sharp breath and launches herself upward, legs locking around his waist with desperate ease. Ajax groans, low and feral, as he slams her against the door, the thud echoing around the tile. She moans loudly. Unapologetic. And he grins like he’s won a war.
“Someone’s not worried about getting caught.”
“I don’t care,” she growls, grinding against the hard line of him. “Just—fuck, Aj”
“Language,” he mocks, dragging his mouth down the line of her throat. He pauses just over the spot where her pulse would be—if it beat. “I need—God, I need—”
“Then take it.” His voice drops, dark and wicked in a way no one from Nevermore would ever expect. “Bite me, baby.”
And that’s it. She strikes, fangs sliding into his neck with practiced ease, the taste of him hitting her like a freight train. Sweet, hot, addictive. His blood floods her senses, and the second it does, her hips buck wildly against his hand. She’s losing herself in it, always does. Ajax moans—not from pain, but pleasure, hand plunging between her thighs and sinking two fingers deep. She screams against his skin, head falling back hard against the door with a thud as she drinks and rides his hand with frantic need.
“Good girl,” he growls into her ear, biting her now—just a little—teeth scraping the skin of her shoulder. “That’s it. Take what you need.”
Her nails dig into his back as she trembles, breath catching, pulse thudding in her ears even if her heart doesn’t beat. She’s close, already teetering, and he knows it. Knows her too well.
His fingers curl inside her, hitting that spot that makes stars burst behind her eyelids—deep, relentless, matching the rhythm of her swallows. Blood coats her tongue, warm and coppery-sweet, fueling her magic until it spills over: tendrils of energy wrapping around them both, amplifying every thrust of his hand. Ajax’s free arm bands around her waist, holding her up as her legs quake.
“That’s my girl,” he praises, voice strained. “Sucking me dry while I finger-fuck you senseless.”
She breaks from his neck with a gasp, blood trickling down her chin, her walls fluttering wildly around his digits. The orgasm crashes like a storm—her body seizing, magic crackling in the air like static, making his snakes writhe and hiss in ecstasy. She cries out, loud enough to echo off the tiles, but he clamps a hand over her mouth, muffling it with a dark chuckle. “Shh, baby. Wouldn’t want the whole hall knowing how pretty you sound when you shatter.”
Waves roll through her, endless, until she’s boneless against him, still twitching. But he’s not done—far from it. His fingers withdraw slowly, slick and shining, and he brings them to her lips. “Taste yourself mixed with me,” he commands. She licks obediently, the salty tang mingling with his blood, reigniting the fire low in her belly.
Dahlia’s breath comes in shallow, shaky pulls against his neck, lips still sticky with blood. Ajax holds her—chest heaving, thighs trembling around his hips like her body doesn’t quite remember how to let go.
She’s wrecked. Soft. Open. Bare in a way she only ever is with him. He should stop. But he won’t. “Still with me?” he murmurs against her temple, breath hot and uneven.
Her answering nod is slow, almost dazed. “Mhm.”
Ajax grins, watching her twitch from the sensitivity. His palm glistens. He licks a stripe across two fingers, groaning. “Tastes better than your bite,” he says, cocky as hell. Her eyes snap open, and there’s that familiar fire again, low and dangerous.
“Asshole,” she mutters, still breathless.
“You love it,” he retorts immediately, grinning. She does.
He doesn’t give her a chance to reply because in the next second, he’s setting her down only to spin her around and press her front-first against the door, palms flat, hair shoved to one side.
“Ajax—” her voice is strained, warning. Wanting.
He grinds against her from behind, his clothed cock dragging against her still-dripping heat. “Told you. Ten minutes,” he growls. “And we’re not even halfway through.”
He yanks her panties down in one swift motion, letting them fall around one ankle. The sound she makes—half protest, half moan—is music to him. “You think I’m gonna let you walk out of here with that sweet little pussy throbbing and my blood still warm in your mouth?” His mouth is right by her ear, hand sliding around to palm her breast. “You’re dreaming, baby.”
She bucks against him, needing anything, but he just chuckles darkly. “You started this,” he reminds her. “Coming to me all flushed and hungry like I don’t know what that look means by now.”
“Didn’t have a choice,” she whispers, hips twitching.
“No,” he agrees, kissing her neck. “You didn’t.”
And then he slides in. Slow. Deep. Deliberate. Dahlia lets out a choked gasp, arching, one hand flying up to brace the door while the other reaches back blindly to grab at him.
Ajax groans loud against her spine. “Fuck. You’re still so tight.”
He thrusts once, slow and cruel, and she nearly sobs. “Aj—”
He reaches down to rub her clit again, merciless in his rhythm. He bottoms out with a guttural moan, filling her completely, her inner walls gripping him like a vice—still hypersensitive from the first high. “God, Dahlia, you’re perfect,” he rasps, one hand fisting her hair to tilt her head back, exposing her throat. He thrusts again, harder this time, the slap of skin on skin obscene in the small space. Her magic flares anew, a spell slipping from her lips in a breathless chant, making his cock throb hotter inside her, like it’s enchanted to hit every nerve.
“Fuck—do that again,” he begs, pace quickening, hips snapping with bruising force. She reaches back, nails digging into his thigh, drawing faint scratches that heal under her residual magic. “Harder, Aj—make me feel it.” He obliges, free hand snaking around to pinch her nipple through her shirt, rolling it until she whimpers. The build is faster this time, coiling tight in her core, her fangs aching to bite again. “Gonna cum,” she warns, voice breaking.
“Not without me,” he growls, fingers dropping to her clit once more—rubbing fast, slick circles that have her seeing white. Her orgasm hits like lightning, walls pulsing around him, milking him until he follows with a roar, spilling deep inside her. Hot, messy, claiming. He grinds through it, drawing out every aftershock, until they’re both panting, sweat-slick and trembling.
“Cum for me again,” he growls. “Let everyone outside know who’s fucking you this good.”
And she does. Again. Harder. She bites her own arm this time to keep from screaming. He doesn’t stop. Not until he’s well and truly finished and then he drops his head onto her shoulder, laughing breathlessly.
He pulls her close, snakes retreating to nuzzle her hair gently, like they’re part of the aftercare. “Hey,” he murmurs, thumb wiping blood from her lip. “Eyes open, Dahlia. What’s going on in that pretty head?” She hesitates, but the post-orgasm haze loosens her tongue. “Just… you and Enid. Outside this, you’re hers.”
His expression softens, and he kisses her deeply—not hungry, but reassuring. “This isn’t just feeding or fucking. You know that.” He rubs his hands up and down her arms softly, soothing her aches with warm energy. She melts into it, sighing. “Maybe next time, we skip the bathroom. My bed—yours—whatever. No hiding.”
She nods, a soft smile breaking through. “Deal. But only if you promise to make me scream louder.”
“Weems made one hell of a choice making us share a dorm,” she huffed a laugh out at that.
“Bet she regretted it ever since,” she murmured, and he smirked into her shoulder, still buried inside of her. She should probably tell him to slide out. That they have class. But the greatest thing about Nevermore was that as long as you aced your tests a couple of absences didn’t mean shit. She whined quietly as he pulled out, thinking the same as her, and he chuckled lowly against her shoulder.
“Baby, it’s a good thing you spelled the door because you can’t be quiet for shit,” she huffed as he said that, turning around, wrapping her arms around his neck and he smirked. He wasn’t wrong. But still.
“Rude,” she threw out and he grinned and she smiled back, softly. She knew everyone wanted her to be like Wednesday but she wasn’t. She was softer, “I’m glad you take the lead in this situation.” she teased him but the words came out too genuine and he hummed, tilting her head up by a finger underneath her chin.
He kissed her forehead and she sighed closing her eyes in relief.
“Always baby. I get it.” Until you walk out and be with Enid, she thought keeping her eyes closed so he didn’t see the tears.
❝ all those people down there. they don’t know about horns and trigons and magical powers. they go to bed, wake up, make their coffee, and go to work like any other day. ❞