pequenapamonha

Latest Posts by pequenapamonha

Too Sharp to Touch pt. 13

Word Count: 1.5k Summary: You and Wednesday break into the hunting store to uncover more clues. A horrifying discovery is uncovered. Warnings: Gun mentions, idk tbh Pairings: Wednesday x Reader A/N: I am soooo sorry for the long ass break 😭 Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

The key slid into the lock with a click so soft it was almost tender.

Wednesday presses the door open and slips into the hunting store first, her steps silent against the worn wooden floor. You followed close behind, pulling the door shut with trembling fingers. The hunting store was hollowed out at night—rifles gleaming cold on the walls, animal heads staring blankly from dusty plaques. The air smelled of oil, leather, and something acrid underneath.

Wednesday didn’t look back. She didn’t need to.

Your presence, a tangible weight behind her — jittery, electric.

It crawls up Wednesday’s spine, demanding attention she did not want to give.

She moves through the store, slicing through the dark like a knife. She knew where the records would be kept: behind cheap locked doors and cheaper locks in the back offices.

Kneeling before the office door, the Addams produced her lockpicks, keeping her movements silent, precise, and practiced. She felt you hovering behind her — too close, too warm.

“Stay close,” Wednesday muttered, softer than she wanted it to sound.

An unnecessary precaution.

You were already so close Wednesday could smell the faint scent of your shampoo — something clean, something that didn’t belong in a place like this.

The lock gave way with a reluctant snick, and the two of you slipped inside.

It was a cramped, miserable little office: metal cabinets, a battered desk, a computer buzzing to itself in the corner. Paperwork strewn like dead leaves across every surface.

Wednesday closed the door and clicked on her penlight, keeping the beam narrow.

“Start with the desk,” she said. Her voice came out clipped. Cold.

Good. She needed the distance.

You moved to the desk without argument. Your hands shook slightly.

Wednesday ignored the strange ache in her chest at the sight.

She turned to the filing cabinets, yanking them open one by one. It should have been simple. Catalog. Analyze. Extract. But you kept catching in her periphery — a soft outline, small and quick and breathing too fast.

Distracting. Dangerous.

Wednesday forced herself to focus. Her fingers combed through receipts, invoices, supply orders. Most of it was mundane. Tedious.

Until your soft gasp cut through the silence.

“Got something,” You whispered.

Wednesday was at your side in a heartbeat, penlight tilting down to observe like pinning a butterfly.

A stack of orders.

Darts.

Syringes.

Crates labeled SPECIMEN HANDLING. Shoved behind cases of arrows and mounts. Hidden.

Your brow furrowed. Confused. Vulnerable.

Wednesday swallowed the sharp taste rising in her mouth.

“This could just be for animals,” You offered— you sounded like you were trying to convince yourself.

Wednesday said nothing.

They dug deeper.

The smell of rot grew worse.

More papers: lists of modified equipment. Cages. Restraints. Reinforced to withstand superhuman strength. The raven knew for a fact those bars were thicker than the average cage.

Wednesday felt a knot tightening low in her stomach.

No — not her stomach.

Something deeper. Something old.

Another file — slim, hidden between invoices.

You tugged it free, flipping it open with trembling fingers.

Inside, a typed document: SERUM 11-X: Handling and Application Notes.

You skim it; Wednesday could see the rise and fall of your chest.

Dosages listed for subjects weighing 80-120 pounds.

Instructions for “immediate restraint following injection.”

Warning: “Instability in high-powered specimens.”

Specimens.

Subjects.

“It’s just some kind of tranquilizer,” you remark so softly the Addams almost doesn’t catch it.

Wednesday forced herself to move slowly. Deliberately.

She peels the document from your hands, turning toward the ancient computer.

Jiggles the mouse experimentally.

A flicker. Login screen bypassed. Shipping logs opened. Lines of inventory fill the screen.

Rows and rows of shipments appeared.

Some were normal — bulk ammo, standard rifles.

Others were more… unusual.

You leaned in, shoulder brushing Wednesday’s. Neither of you move away.

“Subjects delivered to site on…” You read aloud, voice growing softer. “Return condition: unstable. Failed integration.”

Failed integration?

“What the hell does that mean?” you whisper.

Wednesday stays silent, her face expressionless. Thinking.

You move to another set of papers on the desk, searching for sense.

A page falls free from a file. Handwritten notes — messy, frantic:

Trial 6: Resulted in partial power absorption. Subject unstable. Extensive tissue degradation.

Trial 7: Temporary suppression successful. Symptoms include identity fragmentation, and loss of special abilities.

Wednesday stares at the words until they blur.

Suppression.

Absorption.

Not just capturing outcasts.

Changing them.

Stealing from them.

Wednesday feels something cold crawl up her spine — colder than the storm waiting outside. You lean in close, so close the Addams can feel the heat of your body against her side.

She doesn’t move away. She can’t.

The tension twists inside her, unfamiliar and sharp.

Not fear. Not anger. Something worse.

Something weaker.

You flip through another file. Handwritten notes. Trial results. Partial power absorption. Identity fragmentation.

You back away, the papers slipping from your fingers.

“No,” you whisper. “No, this can’t—”

Wednesday watches you, heart thudding too hard in her chest. She wanted to reach out. Pull you in. Protect.

It was stupid. It was dangerous. It was softer than anything Wednesday allowed herself to be. She stayed rooted where she was.

Barely.

“They’re trying to erase Outcasts,” You murmur, voice barely above a breath.

Wednesday’s chest tightened painfully.

“They’re trying to make us human,” You finish, voice hushed as if even you didn’t want to admit it.

A noise outside. Footsteps.

Wednesday didn’t hesitate. She grabs your wrist without thought, yanking you toward the stockroom; you stumbled after her, too shocked to protest. The Addams drags you through the maze of crates and shelves, heart hammering against her ribs. The back door.

Freedom.

She kicks it open, shoves you into the chilled night air, and follows. Dead leaves crunch beneath your boots, the cold nipping at exposed skin. Wednesday doesn’t stop until you’re buried deep between two alley walls, hidden in the shadows.

She backs you against the bricks, shielding you with a sense deep within her that even she couldn’t name, your breathing ragged in her ears. You waited.

The danger passed.

Finally — finally — she eased back, enough to look at your face. Moonlight silvers your hair, catching the terror still lingering in your wide eyes.

Wednesday’s hand lingers at your side, somehow wanting to reach out, to tether you back to herself.

But she doesn’t.

She can’t.

Instead, she says flatly, softly.

“We’re not dealing with hunters.”

_______________________________________________________

The cold clings to both of you as you creep through the woods.

Your breath puffs in frantic bursts beside her, too loud in the suffocating quiet. Wednesday’s steps are soundless. Deliberate. Above you, the clouds drag themselves over the moon, covering the world in near-total darkness.

It suits Wednesday fine.

It keeps her focus sharp.

It keeps her from looking at you too long — at the shivers racking your body, at the way you kept brushing her hand against her sleeve like you don’t know what else to hold onto.

Wednesday’s jaw clenches.

Weakness. Distraction.

But the thought tasted bitter now.

She slowed her pace by a fraction, just enough that you can match her without tripping over roots or fallen branches. She’d thought your werewolf senses would be better than this.

The iron gates of Nevermore loom ahead, black against black. A familiar thrill prickles down Wednesday’s spine — the dangerous, delicious pulse of doing something she shouldn’t.

Normally, she relished it.

Tonight, it was tempered by the steady ache of your presence beside her.

You approached the side wall — the section she knew was never patrolled after curfew. You hesitate, glancing up at the slick stone.

Wednesday crouches low, weaving her fingers together to form a step.

You blinked at her.

“Boost,” Wednesday said simply, voice sharper than she intended.

You hesitated again, chewing your lip — and then places her boot in Wednesday’s hands.

You’re even lighter than you look.

Wednesday hoists you upward with a grunt that she immediately regretted — inelegant, too human. You scrambled up, struggling for a grip on the icy stone. Your foot slipped, just once, scraping hard against the wall.

Wednesday moved before thinking. Her hands found your waist, steadying you.

Warm.

Fragile.

Alive.

“Hold still,” Wednesday ordered, voice low and fierce.

You obeyed without question.

Wednesday guided you higher, shoving down the treacherous instinct to keep holding on. You managed to hook yourself over the wall and tumble onto the other side with a soft oof. Wednesday scaled it herself in three swift movements, landing in a crouch beside you. The two of you duck low, moving quickly across the shadowed grounds toward the dormitories. The school looms above you, windows dark, stone heavy.

Safe.

For now.

Neither of you speak as you slip through an unlocked maintenance door. Your footsteps are damp echoes against the old tiled floors. Wednesday leads you back toward her dorm, each step winding tighter and tighter in her chest.

You stumbled once, and Wednesday reached out — caught her — fingers tightening on her jacket sleeve without meaning to. You stiffened. Wednesday let go immediately, forcing her hands to curl into fists at her sides.

And deep inside her chest, where Wednesday believed she had only bone and blackened blood - something alive flinched.

Taglist:

@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae

- YOU'RE MINE

Cairo Sweet x (g!p) reader  (request)

“You were Cairo's new obsession, and even if you didn't know it, you were already hers” 

Genre – smut    Warnings –  daddy kink, reader is three years older than cairo  MDI

Now playing – MUSTANG BABY, by Nessa Barrett Ft. ARTEMAS 

You were never very attached to material things, the moments you kept in your mind being much more important than any material possession you might own. That said, it wasn't too difficult for you to get rid of most of your things in order to move to a quieter place.  

Moving from New York to the suburbs of Tennessee was a rather drastic change for you, but after your grandmother passed away, you thought it was the best decision you could make right now. You never had cousins, your mother was an only child and you had no siblings, and as much as your mother was out there somewhere on the globe, it still came as a surprise when you received a call saying that your grandmother had left her old house to you in her will.   

Your family had always been cold, never showing much love, and you knew that part of it was because they were such a stingy family, and all they cared about was money. But with your grandmother, things were always different. Your grandma was the only person in that family who made you feel loved, and even though you grew up a bit away from her, you always seemed to be connected, and you loved that feeling.   

Getting out of your truck, you looked around, it wasn't bad, but it wasn't a housing estate either. At one point it was quiet, but if you looked a little closer it seemed almost weird. You could see a house right in front of your grandmother's old house, but it was the only one. You wondered if anyone lived there, your grandmother had never complained about neighbors, so you hoped you wouldn't have a problem with that either.   

The barking of Robin, your dog, brought you back to the real world, you smiled at him, stroking his ears, before taking one of the boxes out of the back of your truck. You used to have a room to yourself in your grandmother's house, and you knew it was still intact, and since this move wasn't final, you thought the usual small room might be more than enough for you.   

Holding the box with your left arm, you took the door keys out of your pocket, hearing Robin's bark echoing through the trees. Looking back, you saw him chasing a butterfly. Laughing, you shook your hair slightly, hoping that the neighbors next door wouldn't mind your dog's antics.  

 Your grandmother's old television was still working fine, and the sofa was very comfortable for the amount of time it was supposed to be used, but everything worked very well. You wouldn't say you were adapted to everything, but you certainly weren't uncomfortable with the idea of spending a few months here. The night had fallen nicely, the breeze was a bit chilly, but the heaters did a good job of warming you up, everything there had a lot of potential. You knew you'd have a lot of work to do, starting tomorrow, but you were happy to put a bit of manual work on your agenda and renovate your grandmother's old house.   

With a sigh, you got up from the sofa, snapping your back and picking up the empty beer bottle from the coffee table. The moment you stood up, Robin's ears mirrored your movement, the dog paying close attention to your next move, and if you said the right words, he'd get up in a hurry.   

“All right buddy, do you want to go outside for a bit before you go to bed?” Bingo.   

Rising in a leap, the dog hurried to the front door, waiting for you to open it so he could relieve himself before getting a very good night's sleep.   

“All right, don't go too far.” You said, causing the dog to lunge when you opened the door.   

Leaning against the doorframe, you took a closer look at your surroundings, the night painting the trees a darker shade, and you've watched enough horror movies to know that it shouldn't be 100% safe. It could just be your head playing tricks on you, but you could swear you felt eyes watching your every move. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, you leaned a little further out of the house, ready to send Robin in.   

“ROBIN, COME ON BOY!” You shouted, expecting him to come to you as he always did.  

Your answer was only the swaying of the trees, and as much as you knew that your dog was always distracted by sticks, you also knew that he never neglected your call.  

“ROBIN, HERE!” You shouted again, still without an answer.   

Ready to go after the dog, you grabbed your house keys, closing the door and preparing to go down the stairs in front of the small porch, but something in the darkness made you freeze for a minute. A small being moved among the bushes and trees, and you could only wonder who was walking through the forest so late at night.   

The relief you felt when you saw Robin next to the shadow was fleeting, you were happy to see the dog, but who the hell was that creature?  

“Can I help you?” You asked, discreetly signaling to Robin, causing the dog to come running to your side.   

“You must be the new neighbor...”   

Coming out of the shadows, the figure you demonized so much was actually a girl, not a child, more like a teenager? Maybe a young woman? She looked small, certainly much shorter and a little younger than you. Her hair was beautiful and cascaded over her shoulders, and even though she wasn't that close to you, you could still notice the mesmerizing eyes she had. What was she doing alone in the middle of the woods?   

“I'm Cairo, Cairo Sweet.” The woman said, coming closer and positioning herself comfortably on the railing of the porch steps, just four steps from where you were standing. “I live here in front.”   

Sighing, you felt all the tension disappear from your shoulders, she was just your neighbor, she wasn't going to hurt you.   

“Sorry, it's just that you scared me a bit.” You said, laughing slightly, making Cairo mirror your actions. “I'm Yn.”  

“It's nice to meet you, Yn. I saw a new car arriving yesterday and I was curious.” Cairo said, the way she looked at you made you feel strange, it was almost as if she wanted to see through you. “And then I saw this little guy while I was out here and I connected the dots.”   

“It was a last-minute decision, my grandmother lived here.” You said, trying not to give away too many details about this teenager you'd just met.   

“I saw her on the porch sometimes, but she was very private. I'm sorry about what happened.” Cairo said, climbing a step closer to you, her right hand slowly climbing the railing, her head tilted to the left. All you wanted to know was why she was looking at you like that?   

“It's okay, I have good memories of her.” You said, discreetly swaying your body as you tried to regain that same distance between you and Cairo.   

“So, you're in high school?” Her eyes could really hypnotize someone, they were the most beautiful shade of brown you'd ever seen.  

“College.”   

“You look like a mathematician.”   

“Music.”   

“I should know, you musicians are all beautiful.” Cairo said with a smile on her face, which I'm sure she tried to hide by turning her head away.  

Looking towards her house, Cairo descended the step she had climbed, taking one last look at you.  

“Good night, music girl.” 

Unable to say a word, you just waved, making Cairo laugh - probably at your weirdness - and turn around again before disappearing into the mansion where she lived.   

“Why the hell did I talk so much?” You asked, looking at Robin.  

I mean, you didn't want to talk about your college, you didn't even want her to come up the steps of your house. She was beautiful, her eyes were beautiful, she asked if you were at school? How old is that girl? You certainly said more than you should have. 

The sun seemed to be hotter than ever, making a layer of sweat cover your body, it was almost as if the water you drank had no effect on cooling you down. Putting the hammer down and picking up the saw, you cut out the piece of wood you would use to replace the old furniture, taking care not to get the measurements wrong.   

“I didn't know musicians also took carpentry classes at college.”  

The startle of a new voice in the quiet surroundings made you jump, sending a shiver through your body hair as you almost let the saw slip through your fingers. Turning around, you saw Cairo standing in front of the stairs, sunglasses covering her pretty eyes, the girl was wearing a denim jacket with a white blouse underneath, her skirt went down to her mid-thighs, while a pair of socks hugged the rest of her legs.   

“Do you always walk in quietly?” You asked, examining your hand to make sure everything was in place.   

Laughing at your question, Cairo repeated the movement she made last night, climbing a step and tilting her head to look at what you were doing. You couldn't see the look on her face, but if you could see through the glasses, you might be uncomfortable.   

At first, Cairo even looked at all the tools lying around, but that led her to look at your hands, which were dirty and had some veins protruding from them. The veins ran up your arms, which were bare, as you were wearing a white T-shirt. Cairo continued to look up, checking out your muscles, seeing how your biceps showed when you made the slightest effort, and how your shoulders were tense, perhaps still from the fright.   

“It's a very good skill.” Cairo said, smiling at you. That smile made it seem as if you didn't know many things, as if you were a layman, as if she knew something that you would never, not in a million years.   

“So, you were in the woods again?” You asked, hoping Cairo wouldn't notice the sarcastic tone you used.   

“Actually, I have to go to class.”   

 “College?” You asked, taking the hammer from the toolbox.   

“Senior year of high school.” Cairo said, putting his right foot on the second step.   

“Holy shit! How old are you? Seventeen?” You asked, a playful tone in your speech. If you had been more attentive, you would have seen Cairo take her foot off the second step.   

“Eighteen.”   

Cairo's serious tone caught your attention, making you turn your body completely towards her.  

“Got it.”   

“How old are you?” Cairo crossed her arms as she climbed - now with both feet - onto the second step, it was almost as if she was daring you to say your age.   

“Twenty-one.”   

Giving you a smile, Cairo looked at you over her glasses, giving you a glimpse of that look that had stuck in your mind.   

“Bye, Yn.”   

Watching the girl disappear into the forest, you became more intrigued. Why was this girl so enigmatic to you? What did she mean by all those questions? With all her cool-girl looks? She's just a teenager, maybe a young woman?   

Why was she able to get into your head so much? 

It had been almost a week since you and Cairo had last spoken, your schedules didn't seem to match up and you were always too busy renovating the house. You hadn't seen Cairo since that day, but Cairo couldn't say the same about you.  

Sitting at the window, the brown-haired girl watched you, she had just seen you arrive with new things in the back of your truck, T-shirt and jeans dirty from the heavy work you did alone. Cairo already knew that your next steps would be straight to the bathroom. It was as if she already knew your whole routine, it was as if she was slowly getting into your routine, but still too far away to share her knowledge with you.  

The Sweet girl's body warmed up, watching you take your shirt off, unbuckle your old belt and pull down your pants in one swift movement. The muscles in the right places, your breasts trapped in the bra, the way your boxer shorts fit perfectly to your body, the way she could see the outline of your cock, your round ass held up by the fabric, your thick legs, everything made Cairo want to jump out of the window and fall on top of you.    

Desire and libido surged through the girl's body faster than the speed of light, sending heat to the middle of the Sweet girl's legs, who watched your every move as you rubbed your thighs together. Unfortunately for Cairo, you went into the bathroom before taking off all your clothes, but that didn't stop the girl from imagining whatever she wanted with you.   

“Baby, are you coming to join me?” Your voice echoed off the walls of her mind, the noise of the shower loud in her ears, and Cairo could swear she could smell the soap. 

“I was waiting for you to ask me.”   

Walking to the bathroom, Cairo leaned against the doorframe, admiring your silhouette through the blurry shower. Taking off her clothes piece by piece without wasting any time, the brunette approached the glass, opening the door and finding herself facing your back.   

Moving closer to you, Cairo began distributing kisses under your shoulder blades, her hands running from your breasts down your abdomen and reaching what she so desperately wanted. You moaned as Cairo's hands reached your cock, the sensation of her movements making you slightly dizzy. 

Cairo's eyes watched you, her head tilted slightly to the right, allowing her to see a little of your side profile. Accelerating the movement of her hand, Cairo saw you throw your head forward, resting it against the bathroom tiles. The moan you let out sent a shiver through Cairo's body, she loved that you had that reaction to her touch, that only she could make you feel that way, that only she had you in her hands, that only she had you. 

Cairo had learned all about your behavior, how your body reacted to everything, and she could tell with conviction how close to cumming you were. You kept one hand on the wall in front of you, while the other rested comfortably around Cairo's wrist. Your moans echoed off the bathroom walls, the brunette behind you could feel your cock throbbing in her hand.   

The sound of your car driving off made Cairo open her eyes, quickly removing her hand from between her legs and looking out of the window at your car, which was now driving off down the dirt road.   

Sighing, Cairo got up from her window seat and walked over to the bed before throwing herself down. It wasn't the first time Cairo had had such thoughts about you, and she was sure it wouldn't be the last. But she was even more certain that the “waking dream” she had been having would come true. You were hers, and even if you couldn't see it, she would make you see it.   

The doorbell rang throughout the large house. Outside, Cairo waited patiently for you to answer it. The girl had two cups of coffee with her and she was hoping to spend some time with you, ready to put her plan into action by moving up another stage with you.   

Unfortunately for Cairo, she didn't recognize who opened the door. She certainly didn't recognize the blonde hair, or the delicate hands that gripped the handle, or the blue eyes, or the short stature. Who was that woman?  

“Hi, what can I do for you?” Her hair was slightly messy, she looked like she'd just woken up and she was wearing a shirt that was clearly too big for her.   

Cairo could count, and she definitely knew that 2 + 2 = 4.  

“Is Yn here?”   

“She's kind of busy right now...”   

“I bet she is...” Cairo said, leaving an uncomfortable silence in the air as she analyzed the woman in front of her.   

“Do you want me to say something to her?” The blonde asked. Her voice made Cairo want to vomit.  

“No.”   

Descending the steps, Cairo disappeared into the woods, leaving the slightly confused woman at the door. Cairo didn't care, she didn't even look back, whatever this woman was doing to you had to end now. Immediately! 

Sitting on the front steps, you sipped your beer while watching the sunset. With no plans for today, you had decided to just relax while you let Robin run wild. Things had been quiet since you'd moved in, it was almost a month and if you'd known how quiet the small town was, you would have moved in sooner.  

Hearing footsteps in the silence, you saw Cairo approaching, the girl coming out of the vast woods, as always, walking slowly along the strange paths she made a point of following. It had been a while since you'd seen the girl, you'd never met, unlike before when she'd practically come to your door. It was almost as if she was avoiding you, but why would she do that?  

“Do you always choose the strangest paths?” You asked, looking at the girl before taking another sip of your beer.   

“I like walking through the woods, it's exciting.” Cairo replied, approaching you with a slight smile on her face. She seemed happy to see you, or maybe she was just having a good day.   

“You've been kind of missing, haven't you?” Cairo approached the steps.  

“Why? Did you miss me?” A teasing smile appeared on her face as she climbed the first step.   

“I just thought it was strange that you'd disappeared. Anne had told me that a girl knocked on the door the other day, and I knew it was you.” You said, your head tilting slightly upwards to look into Cairo's eyes.   

“Anne? So that's her name?” Cairo asked, climbing the second step and taking the small backpack she was carrying off her back.   

“Annlynn. I met her at the market, she's a nice girl.” You said, taking another sip of your beer while trying to hide your smile as you spoke of the blonde girl. “Very bossy at times, but nice.”   

“Are you two dating?” Cairo asked, climbing the third step as she grabbed the beer from your hand and took a long sip.   

“Hey! You can't drink.” You said, trying to take your beer from her hand, only to receive a slap on the hand and a giggle from Cairo.   

“Don't be a party pooper. I bet you drank when you were a teenager.” Cairo said, finally reaching the fourth step and sitting down next to you.   

“No, I didn't.” You said, looking at Cairo who was staring at you as if he doubted what you had just said.   

You stared back at her, trying to be as serious as possible while the girl tried to get the truth out of you with her eyes. Those beautiful eyes.  

Faced with that situation, you found yourself laughing, making Cairo join you. It was obvious that it was a lie, but there was something about sharing it with Cairo that made you feel lighter, something you couldn't quite identify.  

“Okay, fine, maybe I drank once or twice when I was a teenager.” Laughing, Cairo bumped you with her elbow.  

“I knew it, I know you're not a saint.”   

Smiling at her, you nodded, looking towards the trees as you thought about how troubled your adolescence had been. “No one is a saint. And anyone who says they are is certainly lying.”   

Feeling Cairo look deeply at your profile, you turned your head towards the girl. Her eyes looked at you as if they could see into your soul, deep and questioning, it was as if she wanted to know everything you were thinking.  

“You have a beautiful head.” The silence of the night began to echo louder, as the sun gave way to the moon, which grew larger and larger.   

“No one has ever said that to me.” You answered jokingly, but Cairo's eyes quickly told her you were serious.   

“You don't have to do that all the time. It was a real compliment, I like how your mind works.”  

You were never very good at receiving compliments, your family was never very good at giving compliments. But you tried to cover it up most of the time. But with Cairo, it didn't work, she seemed to know you more than you knew yourself, she seemed to have the power to read your mind. Maybe she had opened your brain while you were asleep and sewn it back together before you woke up, because that was the only explanation for her being able to get so far into your head.  

“You're a smart girl, Cairo.” You say, making the girl come closer to you, your thighs touching, and as sudden as the closeness was, you didn't want to move away, you didn't move away.   

“Is that how you see me? As a girl?” Looking straight into your eyes, Cairo hypnotized you. She had managed to leave you speechless with a simple question. And as much as you thought the answer was also simple, your mind was screaming questions and the different meanings that question could have.  

“How should I see you?” Your faces were close together, Cairo's eyes seemed to scrutinize every feature of your face, while you did the same with hers. The silence was no longer so reassuring, in fact, now the silence reminded you that it was just you and Cairo there, no one else was around and that gave you a strange feeling in your chest.  

“You'll find out.” With a smile, Cairo took another sip of your beer, handing the empty bottle back to you as she got up and started walking to her house.   

With a sigh, you looked at the empty bottle, succumbing to the urge to put your lips to the bottleneck just to seal what Cairo had already sealed. “Good night.”  

Without looking back, Cairo continued walking. And as much as you didn't want to, all you could do was notice how her ass looked in that black dress. “Dream with me, Cowboy.”   

“Cowboy?” you questioned.   

Looking back for the first time, Cairo smiled. You hated that irritatingly beautiful smile, it was as if she knew something you didn't yet know, but that she was dying to tell you.   

“Like I said, you'll find out.” 

Things seemed to be going well for you, you and Anne were still trying to do something – which neither of you classified as a relationship – legal, the house was getting more beautiful every day, and your friendship with Cairo seemed to blossom a little more every day.  

Cairo intrigued you, how smart she was, how she could make you open up effortlessly, how she had much more emotional intelligence than many adults you've ever met. Sometimes you would even joke, asking her if she had ever managed to manipulate a bearded adult, she never answered, only casting a look that pierced your soul. 

The nights went by faster now, and the days were nicer. With all your routine, you still found time to talk to Cairo about random things, and even though she was almost always quite cryptic, you enjoyed the time you spent together. You'd never admit it out loud, but at times you found yourself genuinely attracted to Cairo, fooled by all the beautiful and mysterious words that came out of her mouth.  

Every night was surprising, and it was never different. Just like every other night, you heard the doorbell ringing through the walls of the large, newly refurbished house. Getting up from the armchair in the living room, you shouted that you were coming, opening the door immediately only to see Cairo standing there in a white dress.  

“I didn't see Robin running through the trees, so I decided to check if everything was all right.” Cairo said as soon as the door opened. You still didn't know what it was, but there was certainly something different about the look in her eyes.   

Scratching the back of your neck, you looked into the house, making Cairo follow your gaze, only for her to see the dog lying on the carpet near the stairs leading upstairs. “I took him into town today, he's pretty tired.”   

“So that means you're not going out either?” Cairo asked, her gaze almost begging you to give her some of your attention.   

You and Cairo used to talk casually in front of the door, sitting on the fourth step from the front of the house. You had never invited Cairo in, but Cairo had invited you to her house, which you refused because you always had something to do.   

“No, I'm sorry.” Ready to convince you, Cairo didn't have time to open her mouth, your voice spoke over it. “But you can come in if you want.”  

Cairo's eyes sparkled, almost as if she were a child in a candy store. Unable to contain the smile that escaped, Cairo nodded positively, making you step aside, giving her the space to enter.  

Your house was beautiful, cozy, Cairo looked at every detail as if she were in love. She didn't know what your grandmother's house had looked like before, but she knew you had done a good job. The large bookcase in the living room was definitely what caught the Sweet girl's eye, and in that minute she thought about what it would be like if she lived there with you.   

Waking up every morning next to you, wrapped up in you, the sheets falling to her hips, exposing her naked body from the previous night's activities. Her waking up to your kisses on her neck and your hands massaging her breasts, making her moan sleepily. Your mouth between her legs would be your breakfast, and then after she'd finished, she'd go to the kitchen to prepare coffee for you so you could fuck her while she tried not to burn the pancakes.   

She imagines herself complaining to you about the noise you're making putting together the crib for your baby while she's trying to write the sequel to the book she'd released before she got pregnant. It was perfect.   

“Cairo!” You called out, rousing the girl from the trance she had fallen into. “ Is everything all right in there? I've been calling you for a few minutes.” You said, walking into the kitchen, Cairo sitting on the sofa. 

“Yes, I'm just admiring the books, sorry.” Cairo said, seeing you come back with two glasses of wine in your hands.  

“Oh, that's fine. Some of them were my grandmother's, others I brought with me.” You said, sitting down next to her and handing the glass of wine to the brunette.   

Taking a sip of the wine, Cairo groaned at the taste, having never tasted anything so good. “Wow, this is good.”  

“Really? I don't know much about wine. Anne gave me the bottle last time she was here.”  

Despite not wanting to hear Anne's name, Cairo took your comment in stride, at least it was her you were drinking that expensive wine with, and not that dumb blonde.   

“Does she still come here?” Cairo knew the answer, she saw you and Anne through the window constantly, having to put up with every moan the blonde let out just so she could watch you fuck her.   

“Sometimes, I mean, she's nice.” You reply, taking a sip of your wine.  

“I bet she is.” Cairo says, using a sarcastic tone that passes you by. “I bet you have some very interesting conversations with her.” Bringing the glass up to her lips, Cairo looks at you over the glass object.   

“Talking isn't on the list of things we do...” You say embarrassedly, Cairo could tell how embarrassed you were to talk about the blonde. “I try, but she never wants to spend more time than necessary, if you know what I mean.”   

Looking at you, Cairo tilts her head to the left, making you look into her eyes. You didn't understand how, but every time she did this you got a little lost, her eyes were a window that pulled you out of your zone, every time.  

“Maybe she's not the right girl for you.” Cairo says, her eyes were mesmerizing, and still conveyed that same enigmatic sparkle as when she first appeared on your doorstep. “Maybe you're looking in the wrong place.”   

But there was something else, her eyes shone in a bigger way today, almost as if her pupils were all her eyes had. Leaving the cup on the table, Cairo moved closer to you on the sofa, taking your hand in hers.  

“Don't you think someone else might be waiting for you, Yn?”  

You couldn't answer, completely mesmerized by the way Cairo spoke, how she moved, how the tone of her voice danced in your ears. Was it the beer? The wine you're drinking, why did Cairo's mouth look so beautiful from your view?  

It was always like that with Cairo, everything was an enigma, a mystery, the way she spoke, the way she walked, her touch, and the way your mouth was simply stuck to hers now, everything was a mystery.   

Cairo was a witch, that's what your mind was screaming, because that was the only explanation why your mouth was now on the Sweet girl's. Your lips were moving in sync with hers, her hands were tangled in your hair, her perfume was making you dizzy, and it felt like you were falling off an abyss. And as soon as you landed on the ground, you pulled away.   

“Cairo, I... I'm sorry-”   

Cut off by Cairo's lips, you quickly let yourself go. The Sweet girl climbed on top of you, her thighs on either side of your body, pinning you to the sofa, while your hands timidly ran around her waist. Taking your hands in hers, Cairo guided them to her ass, your brain sending information to the rest of your body.   

Your hands squeezed Cairo's ass, the younger girl moaning and rolling her hips on top of you. Your cock starting to show signs of life, making you remember to think a little with your head up.   

“Cairo... we can't...” You tried to speak between gasps, as Cairo's mouth continued to do a great job on your neck. “You're too young.”   

Cairo's kisses went down to your neck, and you tried to push the girl off you only to hear a sneer come out of her mouth “Don't be stupid Yn. I'm old enough to say what I want and don't want to do. And I want you!”   

Kissing your neck, Cairo slipped her hands under the fabric of your shirt, grabbing the hem and pulling the garment off your body. With a smile, Cairo observed your muscles, getting even happier when she realized you weren't wearing a bra.   

“God, it was almost as if you were prepared for this.” Cairo said, attacking your lips without even giving you a chance to say anything.   

Your mind was screaming no, but your body was screaming yes. You were lost, you were three years older than Cairo, and for a moment it didn't seem right. But when you remembered all the deep conversations, the looks you exchanged, the smiles, the legs touching, all the intimacy, you couldn't resist.  

“I've been waiting for this for so long...” Cairo said, trailing kisses down your collarbone and down to your breasts.   

“You have?” The sensation of her kisses around your nipple was wonderful, almost as if you were in heaven.   

Letting out a moan when Cairo put your nipple in her mouth, you threw your head back, holding onto the brunette's hair so she could get on with the job.  

“Ever since I first saw you, Yn. I want you, no matter how old you are, it's only three years.” Cairo said, looking at you before starting to unbutton the buttons of your pants. “Nobody's a saint, right?!”   

Shaking your head negatively, you moaned as Cairo's hand began to make light movements on your cock over the fabric of your boxers. “Then let me make you feel good, daddy.”   

Your pupils dilated, Cairo's words piercing your eardrums like a heavy rock song. Your hands quickly reached for the hem of her dress, pulling it off her body in one swift movement. Cairo's breasts were free of any bra, just as she had found yours, and her warm skin in your hands made you feel that it was all right.  

“God, you're so hot.” You said, running your hands over Cairo's breasts before putting the right nipple in your mouth.  

Feeling the hairs on her body stand on end, Cairo pushed your head closer to her body, moaning loudly and rolling on top of you. “Let me ride you, baby.” Nodding your head, you gently placed Cairo on the sofa, reaching up and pulling your pants and boxers off your body.   

Cairo looked at you with hunger in her eyes, calling you with her finger, the girl made you kneel in front of her, grabbing your head and combing through your strands of hair. “Take it off for me, daddy.”   

With unregulated breathing, you pulled Cairo's panties down her legs, kissing the girl's thighs as she smiled at you. Now that smile made sense to you, now everything she hid beneath that smile was brought to light. You could finally look at Cairo more intimately, in every sense of the word.   

Taking your chin in her hand, Cairo pulled you into a lustful kiss, full of intentions and directions of where this night would end up. “Let me ride you, Cowboy.”   

 Winking at you, Cairo smiled, tilting her head and motioning for you to sit on the sofa again. You obeyed her as if Cairo's word was a law that couldn't be broken.  

 “Wait, I have to get a condom.” You said, trying to get up, only to be pushed by Cairo back to where you were.   

“I trust you, daddy.” Cairo said, as she put one leg on either side of your body. “In fact, it's not like you're going to want anyone else after this.”   

Guiding your cock into her pussy, Cairo relaxed her body onto you. You both moaned as your bodies fit together, feeling as if you were made for it. You had never felt so good with any other girl, and Cairo didn't even think about past experiences, she knew you were made for each other.   

Starting to move up and down quickly, Cairo grabbed your hair, making you look into the same mesmerizing eyes you've been looking into since you moved in. The way her hips rock on top of you is taking you to a completely new state, the sensation is completely magnificent, and you swear you've never felt like this before.  

“Do you like fucking your little girl, daddy?” Cairo asked, stopping her movements on top of you when you didn't answer. “Admit it, daddy...”  

Your head was screaming danger, maybe this was her way of getting what she'd always wanted, you, completely for herself. “I love fucking you, babygirl.”  

Fuck it. 

Giving you a genuine smile, Cairo resumed her hip thrusts, increasing the speed as she began to feel close to cumming. “Fuck, daddy. Are you feeling it too?” Shaking your head, you agreed with Cairo, your hands going down to her ass and impaling her even more on your cock.   

“Keep going, baby. Please.” Listening to your begging, Cairo continued rolling and bouncing on your lap, the orgasms of the two of you getting closer.  

Your hands fit perfectly on Cairo's curves, but now they were shaking, announcing how close you were to getting your jollies. Cairo was trapped in her own world, not even listening when you announced that you were close.   

With her eyes closed, the girl continued to roll her hips wonderfully on top of you. Her moans were getting louder and louder, just like yours, and you could feel exactly when she finally came. Her inner walls tightening around your cock, making you unable to hold back any longer.   

“Cairo, I'm going to...” Even though you tried, you couldn't get the girl off you. Feeling the jets of your hot seed gushing inside her was like heaven for Cairo, it was as if she had finally won the prize she had been chasing for so long. Happiness hung over her face, and the smile on her face would stay there for days to come. 

“Have I been a good girl to you, daddy?” Kissing your lips, Cairo looked into your eyes, the mischievous glint now transformed into pride.  

“You didn't let me leave, Cairo.” Your tone was weary, accepting that you had lost the war, the battle, everything. You were hers.   

“It's all right, my love. It just proves how much you're mine.” 

OMG, this took forever to be ready, but I did it!

you guys saw what I did with Anne, Annlynn... Sabrina Annlynn Carpenter... Anyway, I just wanted to make a reference to my girl cause I'm so proud of her. 

The Grammys? The hug she and Olivia exchanged??? Oh, I've been blessed for the rest of my life.

Well, that's it. I hope you enjoyed the fic, stay safe, drink water

xoxo, spider.

Me looking for fan fictions but instead I get flashed by sex bot ads under the same tag

Tara trying to figure out if it was amber fucking w her or the killer in scream5 opening

I think the old c.ai was much better than the new one

a cold reunion

Summary: Astrid hasn't visited her mother's old house in a while. She wonders if someone new has moved in by now. Maybe it'll be a "ghost," like her mother claims used to live there. Ha. She would be so lucky.

Word Count: 3.3k Warnings: mentions of death, Tim Burton style tones Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Reader A/N: I know absolutely nothing about this movie, only the original, so I'm just gonna have some fun with it

Being a Deetz was one of the most irritating parts of life. At least, it was in Astrid’s opinion. Even without her own uncommon interests, she was held to the standards of her mother. Because her mother was weird, everyone assumed she was too. Which she was, but it wasn’t fair she couldn’t make that statement for herself.

She used to have a friend. You had been new to town and hadn’t known anything about her mother. It led to a wonderful friendship. Her favourite classes were the ones you had together, and eventually, she invited you over outside of school. Everyone thought you were crazy to agree, but you never faltered.

Even her mother and grandmother liked you, saying you were a “good kid.” Astrid knew better, you were trouble. Always in detention or being scolded by teachers in the hallways. You were anything but a good kid when it came to following the rules. But she wouldn’t deny, you definitely sweet talked your way into her mother’s and grandmother’s good graces.

You had done the same to her, pulling her in until she didn’t want to leave. The first kiss had been under the bleachers at a football game; disgustingly cliche. You had tasted of the cigarettes you stole from your mom. A disgusting taste, but it was good on you.

But as soon as she really started to like you - a little more than like, she would admit - you disappeared. You hadn’t been at school that morning, and when she went to your mom’s work, she had said she didn’t know where you were. Said it was no surprise you left; you could do better than this town.

That had been two years ago. Your mom had left town not long after your disappearance. Everyone assumed she had done something to you; a suspicion that came from the simple fact that your mom was, as the town called it, “trailer trash.” She was a nice person, Astrid had always liked her. She didn’t blame the woman for leaving.

Even Astrid had left for college once school was over. What else was she going to do, stay put? No, she wanted to get started somewhere else. Somewhere she wouldn’t be saddled with the name Deetz like it was some kind of curse. She loved her mother more than she would ever care to admit. But she wanted to do something for herself.

It was winter break before she came back home.

“Leaving already?” Her mother called from the porch when she grabbed her bike and started walking it to the street. “You haven’t even been here for three hours.”

“I’m going to check on the house,” Astrid said with a shrug. “I heard the owners moved out.”

“They did, thank god,” her grandmother said. “They did that house no justice.”

Bold coming from you, Astrid thought but kept her mouth shut.

“Don’t stay out too late,” her mother said.

“Lydia dear, when you were her age, you were almost marrying a ghost,” her grandmother said. “Consider it karma.”

“Mom,” her mother sighed.

Astrid had already hopped on her bike and started down the street. The path to the old house was well-worn; everyone knew it. The old owners had tried their best to convince everyone the house wasn’t haunted, but most of the town didn’t believe it. At least none of the school kids. They had jumped at the opportunity to have a haunted house in town whether it was real or not.

You had always liked that old house. No one had ever fully convinced you that ghosts had lived there, but you liked the thrill of it. I don’t think they’re real, but what if? You had asked one night after sneaking in through her window. We should check it out one day. After you disappeared, she had avoided the house like the plague.

But Astrid knew the path by heart. Snow had been plowed from the streets, and the dutiful citizens had shoveled the bridge. When she approached said bridge, she slowed until she could get off the bike, walking it across instead of riding. Her mother had made it clear that under no circumstances was she to ride or drive over the bridge. It was a silly rule; she followed it anyway.

The house was more run down than usual. It shouldn’t have upset her as much as it did. After all, it wasn’t like she had really ever lived in the house anyway. But it was still part of everything she had known growing up. To see it practically falling apart was… well, it was nothing short of devastating.

Without taking her eyes off of the house, she propped her bike up by its kickstand and slowly made her way to the front door. Step by step, each stair creaked under her weight. The house was a little creepy. Maybe it would be best if she just didn’t go in. After all, the door was practically falling off the hinge, if she actually knocked it would-

-the door swung inwards.

And you were standing there in the doorway with your eyes wide. You looked like you had seen a ghost.

“What are you doing here?” Astrid asked quietly.

You exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging with the movement.

“Want some tea?”

—---

Astrid looked as beautiful as the day you had left. Well, no, you hadn’t exactly left but… no, that was something you would face later. For the moment, you were going to enjoy seeing her again. It hadn’t been long, but she had grown into her own. Beautiful as always, too.

And way too quiet for your liking.

“Chamomile okay?” You asked when the kettle was near screaming.

She nodded once, not removing her eyes from you. It was unsettling; you had used to love it. Astrid wasn’t like normal girls, and not in the “too cool for school” kind of way. It was more of an “I’ll be me whether anyone likes it or not” kind of way. If she wanted to be weird and goth then she would and no one could stop her!

But you didn’t like how she was looking at you.

You placed the teabag in the mug and slid it in front of her. The kettle was only seconds away from screaming when you pulled it off the stove. No need to burst anyone’s eardrums. There was no point in being careful with the scalding water as you poured it into her mug.

“You disappeared,” Astrid said while you were mid-pour.

“About that,” you hummed.

“Does your mom know?” She continued. “That you’re right back where you started?”

Your mom. Momma. She had been left all alone after… how had she fared? Were the townspeople nice to her? They had better be, or you would personally bring hell to every single one of them.

“What does she think happened to me?” You asked as you turned around and placed the kettle back on the stove. You didn’t turn back around.

“What everyone else thinks,” Astrid said, “that you ran off.”

“Was she okay?”

“Honestly?” She asked. “She said she was glad you got out of this little town. Said you were too good for it anyway.”

Well that… that almost hurt worse than knowing she never knew the truth. Your momma hadn’t been perfect, but she had done the best with what she had. Time and time again, she had told you in her drunken stupor that you were destined for great things. You had always taken it to heart.

You need to tell her.

“Hey, Astrid?” You asked with a weak voice.

She hummed for you to continue.

“Remember in school when we would say we didn’t believe in ghosts?”

“Yeah, why?”

With a sigh, you turned to look over your shoulder. Astrid’s head was tilted slightly in that way you always found cute. It didn’t click just yet. She just kept looking at you, waiting for you to continue. You raised your brows at her. She was almost there, you could tell by the slight crinkle in her nose, and- ah, there it was.

“You’re joking,” she said.

You gave her your best tight-lipped “white person” smile but otherwise didn’t answer.

“You saw one?” She asked.

Oh. Oh, no, she didn’t get it.

“Well, yes,” you said, turning your full body so you could lean back against the stove and look at her, “but that’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are-” there it is “-oh.”

There was something in her eyes when realisation dawned. Her eyes, while a gorgeous dark brown, were usually so bright. So happy, even when she was trying to act like she didn’t care about the world around her. But this was different. Any brightness dimmed to practically nothing.

“How?” She asked.

You shrugged and looked away. “The football team pushed me off the bridge.”

It wasn’t a fond memory, that was for sure. The icy layer covering the river had been rather sharp. But even that hadn’t compared to the pain of inhaling freezing water deep into your lungs. From what you could remember, it was slow. A memory you didn’t enjoy having, but maybe one day it would go away.

“You were murdered?” Astrid asked incredulously; horrifically.

“I mean listen, it’s not too bad,” you attempted to play it off. “It got me out of taking winter finals, which we both know I would’ve failed.”

“But it’s-”

“-I know, Astrid,” you interrupted.

You liked Astrid. You would even go so far as to say you loved her, mostly probably. Were you young? Sure. A little stupid and naive? Absolutely. High school sweethearts? You would say so, yeah. But she instigated a little too much, and she wanted to know everything, but this just wasn’t really something you wanted to indulge her in. Not yet, anyway.

Astrid was quiet for a moment. The gears were turning in her head, you could practically smell the smoke coming off them. What was she thinking, you wondered. Was she dwelling on the fact that you had died, cold and slow and alone? You certainly hoped not, it wouldn’t change anything. You were dead, you were now a ghost, and long-distance relationships weren’t that hard any more thanks to technology, so you could both still make it work!

If she wanted, of course.

“I thought my mom said her ghosts were stuck in the house for, like, a century or something,” she said instead.

You laughed. That was much easier to answer. “I told their caseworker I’d take their place. You know, let them rest in peace, or whatever,” you waved your hands vaguely.

“Caseworker?”

“It’s a long story.”

“So you’re why the previous owners left?” She asked.

“Guilty as charged.” You wiggled your fingers in her direction and smiled.

For the first time all day, she smiled back. God, you missed her smile.

“If you really are a ghost,” she said with a tilt of her head, “how can you pick things up?”

“Ooh, we’re getting to the fun questions,” you said with a smile.

The look on Astrid’s face was perfect. Curious, distrusting. The best mix of emotions; you loved when she was uncertain. It was a more genuine look for her, instead of trying to act like she knew everything and always knew what to expect. Always made her look super cute, honestly.

You walked over to where she was sitting at the run-down table. She turned to keep facing you until you were standing directly in front of her. It was going to be a risk, but one you were very much willing to take. Worst case, you stay stuck in the stupid house forever. No different from your current predicament.

“Took me a few months to really get the hang of it,” you said. Her eyes sparkled again. “You just focus on what you want to touch,” she blushed, “and voila.”

Her blush vanished when you picked up the mug beside her. What you really wanted to do was touch her. Gods, you wanted to know if you could still feel her warmth, the softness of her skin. But it wasn’t time. No, she was probably still worried about the fact that you had… well, you know. Died.

“It took you months to figure out how to do that?” She asked with a cheeky smile.

“Shut up,” you huffed, placing the mug back on the table. “It wasn’t like I had much to work with.”

“Why didn’t you ask my mom’s old friends how to do it?” Astrid asked before leaning back against the table. “I’m sure they would’ve helped you.”

“Never actually had the pleasure of meeting them,” you said with a shrug. “I only got to meet the other guy.”

“The other guy?” She asked, looking away in thought for a moment before looking back at you. “Oh, you mean Beetlegeu-”

-you slapped your hand over her mouth before she could continue.

“Don’t say it,” you whispered.

She nodded once, and you pulled your hand away.

“Was he really that awful?” She asked, matching your tone.

“He was that annoying,” you grumbled. “God, I swore the guy would never shut up.”

Astrid did her little crooked smile and laugh. The one that you would always try your best to force out of her during class to get her in trouble. Wait, that sounded bad. You didn’t want her to get in trouble, you just would have enjoyed her presence in detention. With you.

“So what else did you take two years to learn?” Astrid asked. She leaned forward until she was so close you could smell her shampoo. “Anything exciting?”

Wait. Wait, this could be your chance. You might be able to do something about it, this could be your shot. Two years in limbo, sitting in a run down house that did nothing but remind you of Astrid with everything you saw. It was her family’s house. You couldn’t leave her even if you had wanted to.

“Well,” you said, “there is something I’ve been wanting to test out.” You looked up to meet her eyes. “May I?”

“Let’s see what you got, ghosty,” she said.

You nodded to yourself and focused. Focused on her body, more specifically her face. Her stunning, beautiful, gorgeous, smiling face. Day after day, you had been thinking of her, and you had hoped time and time again that somehow she would come back to the house.

One deep inhale, hold your breath. Your hands were shaking so badly you would have dropped everything had you been holding something in the first place. And yet, Astrid didn’t budge when you lifted your hands and placed them on either side of her face. Exhale.

Her body was absent of warmth. Astrid had never been an exceptionally warm individual to begin with but this was… different. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell her that you couldn’t feel her. Sure, you could touch things, but you couldn’t feel any of it. It wasn’t something you could describe, except calling it surreal.

“May I?” You asked again.

You could feel her breath on your lips even as she nodded. It was all you needed to pull her into a kiss. There was still no warmth, but there was a… a comfort in it. In feeling her lips against yours again after so long. To feel her breath mix with yours, replacing everything you didn’t need but you so desperately craved.

Her hands attempted to settle on your hips but fell straight through. In turn, you felt her shoulders sag as she placed her hands on your knees instead. That was… not a nice feeling. Maybe you could learn to focus enough to let her feel you back. That was possible, right? Surely it was.

You pulled away slowly. If you could have stayed kissing her for the rest of your century in that hellhole, you would have. But unfortunately, Astrid still had to breathe, and you had to give her the space to do it. Earlier you had questioned if you had really loved her or if it was a puppy love?

Oh no. It was the real deal.

“You can’t leave at all?” Astrid asked. “Not even for an hour or so?”

“You mean the haunted house isn’t romantic?” You teased.

“What do you even do in here all day every day?” She asked.

Once again, she reached out to touch you. Somewhere, anyway. You looked down at where she was attempting to hold your hand. Maybe if you could focus really hard, it would work. As far as you knew, you couldn’t materialise. At least, you didn’t think you could. But if you really concentrated.

Her fingers slipped between yours and, for the first time in two years, you felt her squeeze your hand. Physical touch. Real physical touch.

“I, ah,” you stammered, looking down at where she was still holding your hand. “It’s in my contract to scare people.”

“Contract?” She asked. Your arm moved as she pulled you closer. Okay, maybe physical touch was a bit unfamiliar to you after so long, you would need to get used to it again.

“My caseworker says I have a quota to meet,” you said, finally looking back up to meet her eyes. “So many people each quarter, you know?”

“So you need people to scare?” She asked. “On a regular basis.”

There was a sparkle in her eye. Something dangerous; scandalous.

“You have something in mind?” You asked with a tilt of your head.

Her smile was vicious. And attractive.

—---

The house looked beautiful in the daylight. The paint was fresh, the inside was cosy, and when nighttime fell? Rumour had it the ghosts came out to play. That was why most people rented out the house; their own private haunting for a night. The listing said if you could survive the night, the stay was free. So far, no one had lasted long enough to even give it a good shot.

And as you stood at the end of the bed watching the young couple sprint down the stairs screaming, you knew they wouldn’t be the winners either.

You walked over to the window and watched as they threw their singular bag into their car and peeled out of the dirt driveway. It hadn’t even been any fun, they hadn’t given you any time to actually scare them. Hell, all you had done was stand at the bed! You hadn’t made any faces, hadn’t pulled any jumpscares, you had simply stood there.

Were you really that scary?

“Gone already?” Astrid asked in a sleepy voice as she walked to stand beside you at the window.

“Didn’t even stay long enough for me to have any fun,” you pouted.

“Well, you’ve hit your quota,” she said. She grabbed your arm and pulled it over her shoulder before tucking closer to your body. After a few months, you were finally starting to feel a bit of warmth from her.

At least, you thought you did.

“Your mom is coming by in the morning?” You asked.

She hummed her confirmation.

“Maybe I can try to scare her, then,” you said.

Astrid pulled you away from the window and started walking you toward your shared bedroom. Not that you really needed the sleep, but it was nice to be able to lay next to her. It was exhausting to keep a more physical form, but for her? You would do it all day every day.

“Good luck scaring her,” Astrid said as she pulled you onto the bed. “She practically grew up with ghosts.”

“I’ll scare your grandmother then,” you said softly, but she didn’t move.

Astrid was already asleep in your arms, just like you had always imagined. Maybe being dead really wasn’t as awful as everyone had always made it seem. After all, it got you your dream girl.

Miller's Girl (2024) dir. Jade Bartlett

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

Luck Runs Out |Part 3|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

Summary: When your luck runs out you unknowingly drag Mabel back into the life, she's so desperate to escape.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

The first thing you felt was warmth, your first thought being maybe you weren’t dead. It was dark, you couldn’t feel the sunlight on your face, or any light shining in your eyes, maybe you were dead. Your fingers twitched, grazing against the soft fabric below you, you furrowed your brow, maybe you weren’t dead. You slowly opened your eyes, blinking to adjust to the darkness of a room you didn’t recognize. You started to push yourself up, quickly hissing at the pain in your shoulder making your drop back down, maybe you weren’t dead, there was no pain after death, unless you were in Tartarus, man that would suck.

“Hey,” a soft voice whispered. “Easy.” Then the most gorgeous face you had ever seen came into view, your breath hitched at seeing her beauty, the way the surrounding darkness seemed to bend to her will. Maybe you were dead, maybe this was Elysium, the only place that would be worthy of such beauty.

“Easy,” she whispered again. “My names Mabel.” You tried to smile at such a beautiful name, but the pain was becoming more prominent. “Take this.” She held up little blue pills to your mouth, usually you had better judgement than to take drugs from a random stranger, but you did as asked, opening your mouth just enough for her to pop in. You swallowed them, your body shaking as you quickly began to cough.

“I was going to get you water,” she said, a glass of water in hand. You tried to lean up, your mouth reaching for the water. “Easy,” she said again. She gently rested a hand on your chest, pushing you back down. She put one hand around the back of your head to help prop it up as she gently brought the glass to your lips.

“Thank you,” you finally rasped out after a few drinks. “Y/N.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My name.” You coughed some more needing another drink which Mabel happily provided. “My name is Y/N.”

She hummed and leaned back in a chair where you had to look down to be able to still see her. “What happened?” You asked, your voice still gravelly. You looked around, not recognizing anything in the room you were in. Scratching the soft material underneath you, you determined you were lying on a bed. With your limited vision you would guess that the room you were in was some sort of apartment.

“You don’t remember?” She questioned.

You scrunched your brow, thinking back to what happened, what could have happened to lead you to being in a stranger's bed. “It’s fuzzy.” Closing your eyes all you saw was darkness, feeling cold water hit you, a loud noise, distorted voices yelling but no faces coming into view, then pain. You winced, reaching your hand up to your shoulder, pausing when you saw the bandage wrapping around your entire arm.

“You were shot,” Mabel’s voice sounded far away.

Your eyes stayed on the bandage, flashes of the night coming back to you, you had been at work, you were on the boat. Your face contorted as you strained yourself trying to force the memories to return. You were on the boat, there was a storm, you were arguing with someone, the drugs went into the ocean, then it was just darkness.

“I-I-I was at work,” you said slowly. “We were on the boat,” you pressed a palm to your head as you pinched your eyes shut, “there was a storm, it was nighttime.”

“Sounds like a typical night for a drug smuggler,” Mabel scoffed.

Your eyes snapped open; you dropped your hand as you glared at Mabel. “I’m not a drug smuggler.”

“Yeah, cause the three packs of drugs my friends found with you was a coincidence.”

“I’m not a drug smuggler. I’m just-”

“Someone who smuggles drugs?”

You clenched your jaw, staring down Mabel, seeing that she wasn’t backing down you conceded, slowly letting out a breath. “You do what you got to with the hand you’re dealt.” You held Mabel’s gaze, your eyes suddenly wet, you were going to write it off as the pain meds not kicking in yet. “All I’ve done is try and survive.”

Mabel leaned back in her chair, her eyes never leaving you as she took in your response. You didn’t know Mabel, she might decide to call the cops, if she hadn’t already. Now that you were awake, she could push you out the door, tossing you out in the cold to fend against the wolves yourself. You wouldn’t blame Mabel for any choice she made, you deserved it, you worked for terrible people, and it would be in Mabel’s best interest to avoid you all together. Hell, she could return you to your boss, if they learned you survived you were sure they’d be happy to pay for your return, pay Mabel a pretty penny just to kill you again, not without making sure they were compensated for their missing drugs though.

Mabel suddenly got up from her chair, kneeling down on the floor next to your bedside as she looked for something. She popped back up with more of the same bandages and wrap that were around your wound. She started to reach for you when you instinctively moved away.

“What are you doing?” You asked, eyeing her, trying to decipher her intentions.

“It’s time to change your bandages,” she mumbled, sounding annoyed that you’d ask such a stupid question. “Doc said twice a day.”

“A doctor?” You jolted forward, ignoring the pain shooting through you and Mabel’s warm hand gently easing you back down. Your eyes darted around the place, just waiting for it to be swarmed with cops.

“Relax, he’s not going to say anything.”

“How do you know?” You stared into her eyes, she didn’t seem as annoyed anymore, she almost looked like she felt bad for you.

Her eyes darted to the side; her mouth partially hung open as she decided how much to tell you. “He’s in a similar line of business.” Her eyes dropped down to the clean bandages in her hands, her fingers fiddling with the edge.

“Oh,” you could only mumble.

Mabel cleared her throat, shaking her head as she looked back at you, but you didn’t miss how she was gripping the bandages. “Can you lift up your shirt?” She asked, her cheeks tinting red as the question left her mouth.

You gave a small nod, lifting off the shirt so it hung around your right arm and covered most of your front but left your injured arm exposed so she could change the bandages easily. Mabel got to work, shifting on the bedside as she leaned closer, slowly beginning to peel the old bandaging away. You sucked in a breath when her fingers grazed your skin, the simple touch seemed to warm you, or maybe you were still freezing from being in the ocean for so long and any human contact would feel like the most amazing thing ever.

“How long was I out?” You finally asked. You stared at Mabel, watching as she focused on cleaning the wound, being mindful not to try and cause you to much discomfort. A ghost of a smile found its way to your lips as you saw her eyebrows scrunched together and the way her freckles popped out when she crinkled her nose.

She tossed the dirty bandages into a trash bin, throwing the now dirty rag she used to clean your wound into the laundry hamper. She scrubbed her hands in the kitchen sink before quickly finding her way back to your side, starting to unravel the new bandages. “About a day,” she finally answered. “The boys found you yesterday morning, considering you’re still alive I assume you were shot the night before.” She gently began applying the new bandage and wrapping. “It’s actually late afternoon now,” she tapped her phone checking the time. “You were barely conscious when they got your aboard their boat, so you’ve been out for over twenty-four hours.”

“The boys?” You didn’t like the idea of more people knowing about you, Mabel was already at risk for helping you. You didn’t want more people to be at risk because they decided to save your life, the more people who knew you survived also meant more people who could turn you in.

“My ex, his brother, and their crew,” she finished the last of the wrapping up then slipped back into the chair at your bedside. You got your head back through the hole of the shirt but struggled with your injured arm. Mabel got up and helped gently guide it into the arm hole while you pulled the shirt down.

“They’re fisherman?” You focused on the word crew. You really shouldn’t have been so surprised; besides the coastguard it wasn’t like anyone else would have been out on the water that early after such a big storm.

“The Finestkind,” she smiled. You quickly frowned, your eyes widening at the boat’s name. “You know them?”

You sighed, reluctantly nodding. “They aren’t my biggest fan.” Mabel raised an eyebrow, clearly sensing a story there. “We’re competitors, me and my crew have the nicer boat, bring in larger catches, and they don’t like it.”

“Because I’m sure you never instigate it,” she deadpanned.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at the way she already clocked you. “I mean,” you rolled your head to the side. “Maybe a little.”

“So, what did you do to get yourself shot?” Mabel asked, narrowing her eyes as she watched you.

You sucked in a breath, your fingers began to play with the blanket over you, it was a really soft blanket. “I dropped the shipment.”

Her eyes widened. “You mean…”

You nodded. “The storm was raging, and the load was too heavy, it was going to tip us.” You refused to meet her gaze as flashes from that night came back to you, you could almost feel the cold water coming down again. “I hit the button to release the product and the next thing I know I was in the ocean, sinking to the bottom.”

“You did the right thing.” You scoffed; you almost never did the right thing. “Trying to save your life and your crews isn’t a bad thing.”

“Well look where that got me.” You saw flashes of yourself on the deck, the rain pouring down on you, the waves rocking the boat violently, and in front of you stood your captain, pointing a gun at your head. “My own captain shot me,” you let out a humorless chuckle.

You still refused to look at Mabel, too deep into question every decision you’ve ever made that led you to where you were right now. You tried to do the right thing for once, you tried to save lives, the drugs weren’t worth dying for, you still believed that. The one time you tried to do something good though it ended with you almost dying. You got lucky, you always got lucky, your entire life could be summed up by being lucky. Some would say you were lucky to survive the gunshot, lucky to survive going overboard and being in the ocean for so long, lucky to be found, lucky to be found by the people who did. If that was all due to you being lucky, how much time before your luck ran out? It was only a matter of time and what would be the consequences, who would pay the price?

“What’s with the necklace?” Mabel’s voice snapped you back to reality. You furrowed your brow looking up at her finally before you realized she was talking about your trident necklace. “You worship Neptune or some shit?” She joked.

You laughed along with her. “I guess technically Neptune is his Roman counterpart, but I’ve always been more of a Greek mythology nerd.”

“Of course you are,” she shook her head. You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, no one understood your fascination with the gods and Greek mythology in general, they always just gave you a weird look. Mabel might have thought it was weird, but she didn’t seem to be judging you for it. “What’s your favorite book?” You opened your mouth, but she sat up in her chair, “Let me guess,” she said holding up a hand to silence you. “Percy Jackson.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, it was a good guess, it was usually everyone’s first guess or what they assumed when they learned about your interest. “Percy’s great,” you admitted. “But actually, The Odyssey.”

“Really?” She raised her eyebrows clearly not having expected that.

“The story of Odysseus,” you let your head flop back onto the pillow, unable to stop smiling. “It’s just incredible.”

“I get that it’s a classic but what’s so great about it?”

A large smile broke out on your face, Mabel was going to regret that. “He’s just such a great hero,” you sighed. “He’s just a man but he fights all these monsters, he travels the sea, having to deal of the wrath of gods, he fights against all of it, all just so he can return home.” You paused, realizing you had been rambling, but then you caught Mabel’s eyes, seeing her leaning forward, you had her full attention. “Multiple ladies try and seduce him, he could just stay safe on an island with calypso, but he doesn’t, because he loves his wife. For ten years he fights to return to his family because he just loves his wife and son that much.”

“Okay, he does sound pretty cool,” she admitted with a smile. “Is that why you became a fisherman?”

You shrugged. “I’ve always loved the water and travel, plus didn’t have many options, couldn’t afford school,” you looked down in shame.

“And the drugs,” Mabel asked, seeming hesitant to shift back to that topic.

You refused to meet her eyes again. “Sometimes despite our best-efforts family just tries to drag you under with them.”

“I get it,” she whispered, you looked up, seeing her nervously playing with her fingers. “I get it.”

“Do you know what happened to the drugs? I know I was floating on a couple packs.” You held your breath as you awaited her answer, silently pleading they just left them in the ocean, destined to wash ashore or be pulled further out to sea.

“They’re on the boat.”

You let out a sigh. “They need to get rid of them, they should get rid of them. If anyone discovers they have them, they are screwed.” You stared Mabel in the eyes, trying to keep your voice from shaking. “I do not work for good people; they will kill everyone to keep the business running.”

“We’ll take care of it when they get back, it’ll be a few days, they’re out on a job.” You nodded, gripping the blanket around you tighter to hide your shaking hands. “Tell me more about Odysseus?” Mabel said softly. You scrunched your brow as you stared at her in disbelief, no one ever asked you to continue. “I’m serious, tell me more about this epic adventure.”

You smiled, your eyes shining as you looked at her. “Well, I consider it more of an epic love story.”

“But he fights monsters and stuff, right? How is that not an adventure?”

“It’s both!”

Mabel playfully rolled her eyes. “I’m serious,” you said, sitting up a little more. “The entire story is about him fighting against all odds to return to his love, despite all his obstacles and despite more than one lovely lady trying to seduce him,” Mabel silently chuckled. “His heart always belongs to Penelope.”

“Well, I’ve never read it.” You gasped in faux offense. Most people now and days hadn’t read it, they heard of it, they knew of Odysseus, but they didn’t know his story, not fully. “But convince me.”

Your eyes lit up, you had a soft smile on your face, you felt your cheeks heat up, here you were injured, a pretty girl taking care of you and asking you to tell her all about your favorite story. For a second you thought maybe you really were in Elysium, maybe you really died the other night. If this were your afterlife though, you couldn’t complain. “So, it starts off with Odysseus being away, off fighting a war for ten years…”

Too Sharp to Touch pt.11

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: Parent’s Weekend is here, and you’re greeted with a pleasant surprise whilst being welcomed by the Addams Family.

Warnings: Minor language, mentions of knotting and breeding

Pairings: Wednesday x Reader

Too Sharp to Touch Masterlist

It wasn’t hard for you to hear the excited exclamations of students greeting parents in the quad, the sound of cheerful semester recounts, laughter, embarrassed complaints, and little siblings running around practically assaulting your ears as you sat on your bed in your dorm.

Your hands anxiously worked away at a fidget ball that sat in your lap, absentmindedly flipping switches on and off as you stared off into space, your mind racing. You weren’t even in uniform, dressed only in an oversized t-shirt and shorts, despite the dropping temperatures of the season. 

You were going to have to go out eventually, of that you were well aware, though the thought put a lump in your throat as you debated whether or not your father was actually coming. Did you want him there? A part of you in the back of your mind was saying no, but you didn’t want to walk out into the quad only for there to be nobody for you. He didn’t come last year, but maybe he’d had a change of heart. You strained just slightly, praying in the back of your mind that your enhanced hearing would pick up the faintly familiar clomp of his boots, but all you could hear was the muddled chaos that surrounded the academy, like a fog shielding you from what went beyond.

Your hands continued to move faster and faster on the fidget cube, twisting, pulling, flipping whatever you could, as you took small breaths to soothe your nerves. It had been the same last year, but it was your first year at Nevermore, you assumed he had just been adjusting. Besides, it wasn’t all that bad, you got to hang out with Enid’s brothers and they were pretty damn good at frisbee. At least you had that consolation. Wednesday had even let you draw by her.

As for Wednesday, you were sure that her family was coming. They had come last year and the year before, and you were nearly positive that she was already at the quad.

Standing, you ran a weary hand through your mess of hair, realizing that if your father had in fact come then he would be expecting you in shape. As if out of habit you quickly moved to your dresser, working on slipping out of your shorts and into your recently cleaned uniform pants while your other hand worked a snaggly comb through your hair, using your phone camera to make sure there wasn’t a single strand out of place.

Your hands quickly worked up your undershirt with something akin to panic as you buttoned it up, fixing your collar as you retrieved your blazer, shrugging it on and fastening it. Struggling as usual with your tie, you did it as well as you could, shoving the bottom under the collar of your blazer, praying that it looked good enough. Maybe convincing yourself that you looked good enough was your own way of believing your father was coming. He’d always preferred that you looked neat anyway.

You hesitated once at the door, before placing your fidget cube into your pocket, opening the door, and heading for the quad.

-

It was all too familiar, even though you’d experienced it only once before. You hovered by the entrance of the quad, not exactly inside, standing on the threshold in the moody lighting of the academy as your eyes darted between family from family, the usual sea of purple uniform now mixed with flannels, neons, and more. It was loud, but nothing you couldn’t handle, if you managed to work up the courage to actually engage. The hall you stood in felt lonely compared to the bustling quad, only occasionally occupied by a passing teacher tossing you a piteous look as they passed.

Your hands were in your pockets, one of which still continued to fiddle with the fidget cube as your hesitation continued. All it took was a couple steps into the crisp late autumn air and you’d find out if he really had come. You watched as Eugene excitedly talked with his moms, something about insects no doubt, as Xavier and Bianca talked with each other, both of their parents void as usual. At least they didn’t handle it like children. Recognized one or two of Enid’s brothers wrestling in the corner.

You were slightly startled when you felt a presence at your side, whipping around to spot Wednesday, dressed neatly in uniform, eyes slightly narrowed as she watched you, speaking calmly.

“You’re nervous.”

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock,” you grumbled, keeping your tone annoyed to fight off the nerves, hoping she couldn’t sense how on edge you really were. Pausing, you eyed her, slightly confused as you added. “Why aren’t you with your family?” “My mother has taken a moment to engage with Weems and reminisce about their past as she typically does. I’d prefer not to participate.” Wednesday glanced out at the crowd and you followed her gaze, already spotting the principal talking to the darkly dressed Addams. “If I recall correctly, last year you were eager to participate, yet here you are, quivering like a lost puppy.”

“Look - I’m not scared, okay? I just…” your tone softened as you trailed off, before picking up again, in a quieter voice. “I don’t wanna get disappointed again.”

“Your father would be quite irresponsible if he didn’t make an appearance for the second time in a row,” Wednesday pointed out, her tone now holding a hint of annoyance as if bothered by the mention of it. “Your expectations should be lowered.”

“He’s not irresponsible, he’s just-” you bit your tongue as you defended your father hotly, ears turning slightly red as you huffed - “he’s a busy guy, he’s got a lot to work with. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care about me-” “Yet he fails to show up for his only child.”

“How would you know? I’ve still got time.” Checking your watch you confirmed it, looking back at Wednesday as you gave a soft shrug, shifting your position slightly to look back over the quad, watching the controlled chaos continue. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the feeling of cold fingers brushing your neck, and your eyes went wide as your head turned quickly, eyes dropping down to see Wednesday adjusting your tie for you. “What the hell are you doing-” “Fixing this disgrace you call a knot. Whoever taught you how to tie a tie clearly knew nothing of the task.” Wednesday muttered, now standing right in front of you, head slightly tilted up as her dark eyes focused on what she was doing, hands quickly and expertly moving at the article of clothing with practiced expertise. 

“I taught myself,” you give a soft frown, but you don’t move, slightly frozen as if hyperaware of the stark contrast of her cold skin brushing against yours. 

“It shows. If you wish to impress your father then the least you could do is ask for some assistance.” Her tone was sarcastic now. She clearly didn’t believe your father was showing up. You felt a small huff of frustration escape you, but you didn’t argue as you watched her tuck your tie back under your blazer, now with a much neater and almost fancier knot in its place. Her hands slightly lingered on the fabric, resting against your neck before she moved away quickly, hands returning to her sides as she looked back up at you with what you would call a satisfied expression. “I’ll have Thing guide you, he’s particularly handy with knots.”

“Was that a pun?” You perked up, a small grin forming on your face as you saw her shoot you a glare.

 “Don’t push your luck, Y/N.”

“Then at least wish me good luck.” You gave her a slight nudge with your elbow, which was returned with a sharper one in response, making you grunt.

“Dreadful luck.” Wednesday nodded, a faint roll of her eyes accompanying her words, starting back off into the quad. As the Addams left your side you followed suit, stepping into the crisp air and shouldering your way through families, eyes darting back and forth, ears doing an equally focused job of honing out different voices and footsteps, trying to trace them back to something familiar.

It was all too familiar, but it wasn’t welcoming. All you felt was the lack of what you wanted, what you needed. Everything was too loud, too much. Too many voices that didn’t belong to you, that you didn’t recognize. Too many bodies, pressing in close against you. Your hand was already back on your fidget cube, flipping switches inside of your blazer. Your throat felt dry, your hands clammy.

The scent of tobacco was the one thing that you recognized, and you felt your anxiety fall away, brightening instantly as you whirled around on your foot, instantly recognizing the figure standing in front of you, the sweep of grayed hair, and that ever-familiar green raincoat. “Nani!” You practically fell into your grandma’s arms, nuzzling her welcoming warmth as you felt her hands on your back, steadying you as she chuckled, a smile gracing her features. She wasn’t in uniform this time; most of the times you had seen her outside of her home she was in uniform, working as an assistant sheriff alongside Galpin in Jericho, but now she just looked like your grandma, and you couldn’t be more happy.

“Y/N, always a pleasure my darling. How has Nevermore been treating you? Let me get a good look at you.” You obeyed, stepping out of the embrace with a big smile, watching as her crinkled eyes took in your appearance, from your slightly muddied boots to your neatly combed hair, quite the contrast to each other. Her hands moved up to your blazer, and you watched as she gave an impressed look, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you tie a knot this well, Y/N- where did you learn this?” “Oh, I didn’t tie it, I had a friend help me.” You felt a small blush creep back to your face as you reached up to scratch the nape of your neck with a tiny grin. “I’m still not the best in that department.”

“Friend, huh? Don’t tell me it’s this “Wednesday” I’ve been hearing about lately?” Nani gave a soft smile, her tone gently teasing you as she poked your side. “You seem pretty fond of her.”

“S-she’s a good friend,” you admitted, trying to ignore the heat in your face that was becoming more and more prominent at the mere mention of the Addams. 

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found a good friend here.” Nani nodded approvingly, hands on your shoulders as she hummed, her voice becoming a little more serious as she paused, taking a small breath before continuing in a solemn tone, “Y/N…your father…he won’t be making it.” You felt your excited smile fall almost instantly, disappointed, as you looked away, not wanting to meet her apologetic expression as if it would only worsen your mood, muttering. “Yeah, I figured… What is it this time, another ‘big conference?’”

“Something like that, he didn’t bother to specify,” Nani spoke with distaste now, making it clear her disapproval over her son’s actions. “All I know is that he’d be gone for a week or two. Seeing as your situation with Parent’s Weekend last year I wanted to take his place for you.” Taking a deep breath her expression melted into something more sympathetic as her hands gave your shoulders a soft squeeze. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I know you were excited.”

“It’s okay, Nani, really…” you mumbled, looking up to meet her gaze, giving her a convincing look as an attempt to soothe both her and yourself. “I’m just happy you’re here. Did you take time off? I thought Galpin had you on patrol like- all the time.”

Nani nodded slightly, her expression brightening as her eyes crinkled she gave a nod. “He’s out for a couple days investigating something on the edge of town. I’m not sure it’s anything that’ll end up being serious, but seeing as I have some free time I wanted to make my way up here.”

She took a breath, pausing before she raised an eyebrow, curious now, as she gave you a little nudge as she asked.

“Now, how’s your wolf coming along? Last I heard you’ve been working on your hunting?”

You felt a small tinge of nerves now, hesitating as you sputtered, “-I-it’s- still going great... hunting-” You didn’t get it, you always faltered talking about your wolf. It felt embarrassing, taboo like you weren’t supposed to mention it. You were still adjusting to it being brought up by your family. “Still getting used to it, I guess-”

Nani seemed a little skeptical now, studying you as she folded her arms, eyeing you not unkindly as she poked, “Y/N, you know I’m not your father. You can share with me about your wolf. I’m here to help you. Better than the werewolf instructors you have here at least.” You let out a small huff of disgust at the mention, nodding in agreement as you grumbled, “All they really talk about is werewolf reproduction in class now…knotting, breeding… it’s like health class back at Woodsmore but worse.”

“Well who knows? That information might come in handy soon.” The second you saw Nani wink you wanted to dig a hole, crawl inside and hide, your shoulders tensing up as your face reddened and you gave an embarrassed, “Nani, you can’t-” Your words were interrupted by a tall presence at your side, and you saw Nani glance away from you as you turned to face none other than Morticia Addams herself, Gomez at her side with a welcoming expression on his face. The goth woman spoke first, a smile gracing her features as she addressed Nani first. “Mrs. Lyall, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Morticia, and this is my husband, Gomez.” Morticia extended her hand to Nani, and you watched, in stunned silence as your grandma shook hands, the two of them both exchanging a welcoming glance as Gomez followed suit, offering a handshake as well. The couple turned to you next, and Morticia’s gaze softened as it fell upon you, her tone now somewhat approving. “And you must be Y/N. I’ve heard much about you from our dear Wednesday. I’m glad to finally have a face to match.” As if in a daze, you felt your throat tighten, your heart racing as your blush deepened and you nodded meekly, shaking her hand that was just as cold as Wednesday’s if not more. 

“I’m quite pleased that she’s taken a liking to someone. It’s been quite a while since we’ve seen someone our little raincloud approves of.” Gomez nodded proudly, beaming as he glanced up at his wife. “We’d like to invite the two of you to join our family for the meal.”

You tilted to the side a little as Nani continued the conversation, spotting Wednesday standing beside who you assumed was Pugsley, the latter of which was already gathering a plate of food while Wednesday sat stiffly on the picnic bench, reading a book; at one point her eyes met yours, and you quickly looked back to the conversation, where Nani was already smiling and nodding in agreement with whatever Morticia was saying. You were caught off-guard when Gomez leaned down and gave you a warm nudge to your side, speaking quietly with a small grin. “You seem to have a liking for our little deathday, hm?” You felt your face redden again, and you hesitated only for a moment before giving a small nod, meeting his gaze.

“Well, our Wednesday has quite the particularity for grave-digging, and your werewolf capabilities would serve useful in the task.” He smiled as he took Morticia’s hand, lovingly looking up at her as he sighed, “I remember our first date going similar, don’t you, Tish?”

“Indeed, my dear.” Morticia let out an equally passionate sigh, planting a kiss on her husband’s cheek as she continued, “And what a beautifully terrifying night. I’m sure if done right Wednesday would enjoy something similar.”

You awkwardly scratched your neck, smiling with embarrassment as you mumbled out, feeling all three pairs of eyes watching you, “I-I guess I could try-”

You felt Nani’s warm hand on your back as both of the Addams’ chuckled warmly, Morticia giving you an affectionate smile, “Well I’m sure we’ll be quite pleased to have you. If Pugsley hasn’t gotten the timing wrong then I believe the food is being served, if the two of you would like to join.”

You followed the couple, Nani at your side, towards the reserved table, shouldering your way through students, parents, and siblings scrambling to find seats among the crowd. As you approached the table with the group you saw Wednesday glance up, pausing as she cast a dark glare at Morticia, who ignored it completely, arm in Gomez’s as she took a seat beside him on the opposite of the table. Pugsley already had a plate of food, seated on Wednesday’s other side, and your eyes narrowed as you felt Nani sandwiching you between her and Wednesday as she slid into her seat.

You felt the raven’s cold body heat against yours almost immediately, that of which you were somehow used to at this point; her shoulders tensed slightly and her jaw clenched, but she didn’t move away from you either. Trying not to move too much to bother her, you remained stiff for a moment, your heart still racing as you placed your hands on the table in front of you, eyes resting on the table in front of you as the conversation continued around you about the weather and seasonal events.

“So, Wednesday, how was your beekeeping extracurricular been treating you?” Morticia turned her attention to the raven at your side and you glanced over at her, watching as the goth lifted her chin and spoke evenly as usual. 

“The hive has been producing quite well; Eugene expects that we’ll have more for the harvest this year.” Her tone became slightly satisfied as her gaze remained fixed on Morticia, continuing, “The Hummers continues to be one of the more fruitful extracurriculars, as opposed to the less useful ones…”

You already knew she was talking about the Pitch Slaps. It hadn’t been the first time you’d heard the Addams bashing the choir, and to be honest it was kind of amusing to see the rivalry she had created between the two clubs. “I’m quite pleased to hear that, darling. And Y/N, remind me of which extracurricular you participate in?” The attention of the table turned to you as you were addressed, and you hesitated before responding, aware of Wednesday’s eyes now on you. “I’m still working on archery…it’s the only one that really looked interesting to me.” You gave a soft shrug, not mentioning the fact you hadn’t shown up to said club for the past three days. “Nothing too special really. I’ve been focusing with Xavier on art instead-”

“If I remember correctly didn’t you say that Wednesday was giving you fighting lessons?” Nani spoke up with a raised eyebrow, and your eyes widened sensing the surprise in the air as both Gomez and Morticia beamed while Wednesday stiffened slightly beside you. “Well, darling, is this true? We never heard of this…” Morticia smiled, tilting her head slightly as she spoke to Wednesday, who sighed before giving a quick nod.

“Indeed. Y/N and I have been meeting to work on her fighting skills.” The Addams turned slightly to look at you, and you gave a little nod, a small bit of pride working its way into your expression as she continued, “She has been improving, as opposed to when she first approached me.”

“Understatement. I’m doing fantastic. Don’t forget how I almost won last night.” You broke in, shooting her a slightly smug look, just for the fun of teasing her. “It must be my natural talent.” Wednesday gave a roll of her eyes in response, though you could tell it was somewhat lighthearted as she muttered, “I have yet to see you up me in combat.”

“Yeah, yeah, just you wait.” You shrugged, moving back to the plate of food that had been set out for you. The conversation continued, Nani and Gomez having a cheerful discussion over fencing, Wednesday occasionally participating with a nod of agreement here and there. 

You took a bite of your food, mostly meats, as usually set out for you, thoughts drifting as the conversation became slightly muddled in your mind, staring off into space as you often did while you ate, focusing on the comforting warmth of your grandma on one side and the cool temperature of Wednesday on the other. 

You were broken out of your thoughts when the warmth suddenly disappeared and you looked up, your fork stalling as you saw Nani standing, adjusting her raincoat as she frowned at something on her phone, eyebrows creasing as she glanced from it to you. “Y/N, honey - I have to go.” You felt your heart drop and you shook your head, standing up beside her as you were ushered a ways away from the table, aware of Wednesday’s eyes boring into your back as you did so. You met Nani’s gaze, protesting in confusion as you stuttered, “You just got here, what is it? Did something happen?” “Apparently something’s going on around the edge of town. Galpin found something. I’m not sure what’s happening but I have to be there. I’m sorry, Y/N.” She looked at you with a sympathetic and regretful expression, frowning gently as she sighed, “Just to be safe I need you to stay on Nevermore grounds for a bit, okay? I don’t want you going out there when we’re not sure of all the details. I’ll text you, I promise.” You had your hand gripped onto her raincoat like a needy infant as you followed her through the quad and back into the academy, still protesting, “And you don’t have any more details? You’re just leaving?” You felt a small flare of indignation as you sputtered, tugging on her coat again as she practically dragged you along outside of the academy’s walls and onto the lawn.

“Y/N, trust me when I’ll tell you more as soon as I have more information. All I know is that it’s not safe right now. Nevermore is where you need to stay right now, okay?” Nani turned, pausing in her steps as she turned to face you, placing her hands on your shoulders again as she looked you firmly in the eyes, slightly sympathetic but now more stern as she gave you a gentle squeeze. “Promise me.” “I-I promise…” you mumbled, looking away as you felt disappointment seep back into your tone. “You stay safe too, Nani.” Your grandma nodded, expression softening as she pulled you into a gentle hug, you returning the embrace as you cherished the last of the warm traces of tobacco that clung to her figure. She pressed a soft kiss to your head, humming, “I love you, Y/N. I’ll text you as soon as I can.” Stepping out of the embrace, you watched as Nani strode off, down the main steps and towards where her patrol car was parked, sliding into the driver's seat and bringing the engine to life as she drove down the main driveway, disappearing into the twisted road hidden behind the woods, the sound of tires squealing against wet pavement fading off.

You stood there for a moment, the air now silent, a stark contrast to the busy quad you had stood in just minutes before. The adrenaline wore off quickly, and your heart rate slowed as you slowly moved to sit down on the wet grass, ignoring the dampness already seeping into your uniform, hands moving idly at the tie around your neck.

You didn’t know how long you had been sitting there until you heard a quiet voice speak behind you. “Y/N.”

You didn’t need to turn around to identify who it was. You heaved a soft sigh, still staring out at the long empty road before you as soft gales pulled at your neatly combed hair, returning it to its slightly messy state. Still absentmindedly fiddling with your tie, you mumbled,

“What do you want?”

Her boots were suddenly beside you; she was standing at your side, looking down at you. You didn’t meet her eyes as she spoke, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “I’d like to extend an invitation for you to spend the day with my family.” She paused, looking out over the woods as she added, a little bit quieter. “That is if you wish to, of course. I’m sure Enid’s brothers would be lucky to have you.”

You gave another quiet sigh, looking down at the grass for a moment as a soft bit of comfort melted upon you; at least you had someone to spend your day with. Hauling yourself to your feet, you slowly lifted your chin, looking at her at last. Her eyes were dark, freckled nose just slightly scrunched as she met your gaze. 

“Thank you.”

-

Taglist:

@idkjustliving2 @alexkolax @tekanparadiae

Where are the Wednesday fanfics guys? Im hungry

she's made for the girls!

𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 wednesday addams x vampire reader

tags. blood mention/drinking, reader's a vampire duh, no pronouns used, thigh riding, small master x pet dynamics at the end. MINORS DNI!

word count. 1595

a/n. first wdw in weeks, wow... just a small thing for my vampire fellas. | masterlist

Your leg bounced up and down, the almost inaudible sound of the heel of your shoes hitting the wooden floor annoying the girl sitting next to you on the bed, the movements of your legs and the way you chewed on your bottom lip enough to get her annoyed.

Closing the book, Wednesday turned to you, eyes alternating between the irritating move and your features.

“Can you stop with that infuriating sound? It’s distracting me.”

“Uh?” You look at Wednesday, eyes darting from yours to your bouncing leg in a silent answer. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t even notice it.”

“Now that you do, stop it.”

“I can’t control it.”

Wednesday took a deep breath, bringing her hand to rest on top of your knee, forcing you to stop. Somehow, your leg was still shaking under her touch and now, a heatwave spread inside your body at the sudden touch, a bright red color threatening to take over your vision, a sharp pain in your gums.

You closed your eyes, taking deep breaths and trying to take control over your instincts. But Addams being so close to you with her almost unnoticeable perfume and hand on your thigh, it was hard and any small thing coming from her was enough to get you to lose control.

“You’re starving, aren’t you?” All you could do was nod, not wanting her to see the sharp fangs that sunk on the inside of your mouth. Removing her hand from your leg, you felt a weight being placed on top of your body instead. “Open your eyes, let me take a look at them.”

“No,” you whispered, shaking your head.

“I wasn’t asking. Open them now and look at me.”

Despise the calming way she spoke, her words and demanding tone were enough to get you to do as you were told, unable to resist the smell she had; It was like a spell placed on you.

Wednesday brought her hands to your face, opening your lips to see the sharp fangs you were hiding, pressing the tip of a finger under one, a single drop of raven blood poking out of the small wound was enough to cover your lower lip with her movement.

“Wends…” You warned with a hoarse voice, controlling the impulse to lick the sweet blood off of your lip.

The dark, silky sheets under your hands ripping off around your nails, stopping you from digging the skin of her waist. Knowing Wednesday, she would definitely make you pay for a new set.

Ignoring the warning timbre in your voice, Wednesday opened her white blouse, dragging the fabric away from her shoulder area along with the strip of her bra.

“Take it.”

“No.”

“If you want to keep that snarky tongue of yours, I suggest you to stop fighting and just do as I am telling you to.”

The second you focused on the cold, pale skin, of her neck, everything around you turned red, melting as you caught the sound of her blood flowing through her body, the steady pace of her heartbeat, muffling every small sound that surrounded the both of you.

All you could hear, see and smell, came from the small girl sitting on your lap. And that was all that matters.

The red, warm, sweet blood that kept her alive. The blood of a Raven, Wednesday being the last one of her bloodline known to you.

Noticing the lack of motion coming from your frozen body, the Addams girl gently tugged you by the back of your head, bringing you closer to her.

“Take it.” She whispered; fingers lost in your hair. “It’s all yours.”

“All mine…” You replied, lost in your red reality, barely processing what left her lips, all you could hear, loud and clear, was the pumping of her jugular, the sweet blood rushing through her veins.

Leaning in, your nose brushed on the cold skin, taking a deep breath. The ghostly touch causing the other to close her eyes. You opened your mouth, enough for the tip of your tongue to touch her, a surprised sigh coming from Wednesday.

“I profoundly hate when you do that.”

“Are you sure? Because I can hear every beat of your heart.” You placed a kissed near her collarbones. “And the way your thighs are pressing against mine.” Another kiss, a little bit higher.

“Stop talking. It’s an order.”

You laughed against her, hands slowly moving from the silky sheets to her thighs. “You’re in no place to boss me around, Addams.”

“I thought you enjoyed being my little pet.”

“I enjoy more when you’re my prey.”

Looking into your eyes, Wednesday could barely see the color of it, dark red mixed with golden strings covering most of your iris, pupils dilated in a black color. The veins under your eyes, disappearing and appearing as if it was following the beat of a music, little did she know it was synchronized with her own heartbeat.

It always felt like that, to be under her spell, if felt paralyzing, something in the way Wednesday smelled and tasted like, so sweet it was like drinking honey.

For her, having your teeth sinking in her neck, poison spreading through your saliva turning the pain into pleasure in just a few seconds. She would never admit, but being your personal blood bag made the pain settle in between her thighs.

She needed you as much as you needed her.

Why else would she sit on your lap and keep you around? Allowing you to follow every single step of hers like a lost puppy, holding you on a tight leash, stopping you from biting others like a misbehaved puppy.

Gulping, she licked her lips, your eyes following every single movement of her body. She felt like an addicted waiting for the next jet of poison, it’s been days since the last time you fed on her.

“Did you drink from somebody else?” You shook your head. You tried to, actually, blood bags, human blood straight from the vein, animal blood that you captured with Eugene’s help; they all tasted like garbage. “Then why are you refusing to do as I tell you to?”

“Because I don’t want to hurt you.”

A small grin tugged on her lips. “I want you to hurt me.”

A gush of adrenaline ran in the veins under your eyes the second you heard her whisper, eyes filled with a specific glow that you almost never see in Wednesday: excitement.

The moment your fangs dug in the cold skin, a low moan escaped between Wednesday’s parted lips, the fingers in your hair pulling you impossible closer. The hot, thick red liquid filled your mouth, the iron taste almost unnoticeable, being replaced by a sweet taste that only she had.

Throwing her head back in an attempt to give you more access to her neck, she didn’t even notice that small rhythm her hips were following against your legs, rubbing herself on you. Her scent, stronger than ever, filling every centimeter of your lungs like smoke.

Moving your hands to her hips, you bruised the covered skin as you helped her steady movements. Opening her lips to take a deep breath soon became a breathless moan, your name escaping her parted lips as you drank more and more from her, the poison spreading through her veins as you lick the open wound, capturing what escaped from your hungry mouth before biting her again.

Wednesday was weak in your arms, the hot feeling in the pit of her stomach getting hotter and hotter as she rounded her hips on your leg, a wet stain on the fabric of your jeans as she came, eyes rolling to the back of her head and body falling back, being held by your hands.

Switching positions, you laid the small girl on her bed, dark silky sheets embracing her body as you laid on top of her to lick around her neck, not wasting a single drop of the precious blood that you couldn’t go without.

Kissing your way up to her face, Addams still had her eyes closed, a fainted reddish color spread on her cheeks as she came down from her high. When she opened her eyes, she was met with your golden ones, shining like a star in the night sky. She caressed your face, thumb swiping your lips to collect the thick liquid that covered them before gently sucking on them, maintaining the eye contact; a satisfied hum in her throat.

“Kiss me. I want to taste my blood on your tongue.”

As she commanded, you connected your lips together in a kiss that was soft at first, turning to bruising and desperate as her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you in, lips wrapping around your tongue to get more of it before she breaks the kiss, hands moving to your shoulders.

“What are you doing?” You asked, confused, as she tried to push you down, but you, being stronger than her, didn’t move an inch.

“I need your tongue somewhere else, and I need it now, so be a good pet and collaborate with me.”

Wednesday was nearly screaming inside, her weak body in desperate need of you, one of the collateral damages from your poison. And the way you smelled, the way your hands touch her body, it was a lot more than just the venom that rushed in her veins, there was something else in the brownish glow that stared at you. You smiled.

“As you wish, master.”

I need cairo sweet fanfics

Imagine dropping your protagonist because she's fully aware that what's being done to Palestine is genocide and ethnic cleansing...

Oh, but ofc Noah sharmout gets to keep his job. This is not the first, and certainly not the last time they'll do something like this. We live in a world where people have to pay the price, simply because they refuse to be uneducated/ignorant

》ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɪss《

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

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Song: Last Kiss (Taylor's Version) – Taylor Swift Summary: In the fight against Joseph Crackstone and in addition Laurel Gates, R gets injured. Wednesday and R technically go on a date. Warnings: Blood, Death, Fluff (technically), Grave Digging Requested by: Myself 🖤 Words: 5.4k

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»──── ◦•✗•◦────«

Wednesday had placed herself in front of the arrow being sent back in Xavier’s direction. She braced herself for the impact, hearing the sound clearly, a gasp as the arrow embedded itself into flesh, but she didn’t feel an ounce of pain. She watched almost as if in slow motion as you were sent tumbling towards the ground, the arrow now protruding from your shoulder.

“Y/N!” She didn’t even hesitate as she quickly kneeled beside you, dropping her sabre in the process. She was confused about why you were there to begin with, you were meant to be with Thing and Enid, taking care of the Hyde. She should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t listen to her instructions, you never did.

You gasped for air as you glanced at the arrow lodged in your shoulder, before tilting your head up to look towards Wednesday, feeling a little delirious, Xavier appearing right beside her. Her hand reached out to stroke the fresh claw marks that were on the side of your face, blood dripping from them, before trailing down towards the arrow. You grabbed her hand before it could make contact with it, giving her hand a squeeze as you winced in pain. “Please go. I’ll be okay, Xavier’s right here.”

Wednesday gave the boy a sideways glance, conflicted at that moment, wanting to be the one you leaned on, the one who helped you. She settled her dark eyes back to you who was lying on the ground, before pausing only a moment, a mean glare taking over her features as her eyes settled onto Xavier, “If she dies, I will kill you.” With a sound of panicked agreement, he was already dragging you up off the ground, Wednesday grabbing hold of her sabre, her eyes meeting yours one last time before beginning her sword dance with that of Joseph Crackstone.

While Wednesday was amid her duel you took this time to glance at Xavier, and then at the abundance of frightened students who hadn’t escaped the area yet. You gathered your strength enough to lean yourself onto a nearby pillar, making sure to keep away from the flames that seemed to surround the proximity of what used to be the courtyard. You met Xavier's worried gaze, “You need to go. Get them out of here. I’ll be fine, I won’t die from one stupid arrow, you know I’m stronger than that.”

“But Wednesday…” You could see the conflict in his eyes, as he stared around the courtyard also, his eyes settling onto Wednesday, before returning to you.

You smiled softly, “She’ll understand,” you gulped, “Just go”.

He seemed reluctant to go, not wanting to risk the chance of you dying, so he glanced towards Wednesday who was still fighting, then towards you who was leaning against the pillar in obvious pain, holding the wound with the arrow still protruding from it. But you didn’t let it deter you as you gave him a false smile of reassurance; one you knew was too good to be true. But there was no time left, so he did the one thing he knew he could, “I’ll come back for you, you have my word” You watched as he left to go help the other students.

You slid down the pillar, looking down towards the arrow before using both your hands to rip as much of the wooden shaft as you possibly could without opening the wound too much or causing more damage than there had been already. With part of the arrow in your left hand, you placed your right hand onto the wound before throwing the broken piece of the arrow to the side.

Your gaze placed itself back onto Wednesday, your eyes widening in disbelief, a shout begging to leave your lips as you watched the blade of her sabre shatter against his staff. Your hand left your wound in a quick succession as you placed your hands on the ground wanting to protect her, wanting to get up and sacrifice yourself for her, but you were too weak.

You watched helplessly as magic pushed her against the broken wooden table in the burning courtyard. You cried out, fear enveloping your senses as he prepared to give the final blow that would end her life. You slid yourself slowly back up against the pillar, using it as support as you made a move to stand up, blood still dripping from your wounds. You made it only a few steps before your legs buckled out from under you, your knees meeting the ground, as rocks and dirt dug into your skin. You grunted in pain, about to force yourself up again before Bianca decided to make her appearance known.

She materialised behind Crackstone, before striking the sabre within her grasp through his chest, it was at that instant, that her whole body was knocked back causing her to hit the ground hard. But it was all the distraction Wednesday had needed, as she picked up the blade of her broken sword, impaling it into his undead heart as soon as he had made a move to turn around.

You witnessed as his entire body burst into flames, sending out a shockwave that seemed to knock you backwards into the pillar you had originally been against a grunt of pain leaving your lips, before leaving a multitude of embers in his place. The ravenette made eye contact with Bianca, giving the siren a nod of acknowledgment before running to your side. She didn’t think twice before grabbing a hold of you, taking you into her surprisingly warm embrace.

You took a moment, the affection being completely foreign to you. Wednesday wasn’t one for physical contact and you knew that, but you did the only thing you thought of, not knowing when the next time you would receive an embrace from her would be. So, you held her as tight as you could, wincing slightly when you felt the pain in your shoulder.

She pulled back, grabbing a gentle hold on your shoulder as she inspected you for any injuries, she then proceeded to stroke the claw marks on the side of your face, ones she knew would most definitely scar. Her unblinking eyes, took every inch of you in before her usually blank expression morphed into one of slight anger, “Are you an idiot?” she gritted her teeth, “Why would you follow me? I thought I told you to stay with—"

You didn’t let her finish that sentence, as your lips captured hers. Her once tense body seemed to calm down at the action as her lips began moving in sync with yours. You felt it as she cupped the back of your neck, being careful with your shoulder as she tried pulling you closer.

She didn’t seem to care that she was getting your blood on her own cheek, she didn’t care that some of your blood was staining her hands as she took control and pulled you deeper into the kiss. It was the type of kiss you wish you could capture forever, one you hope would last an eternity, because you never wanted to part from her lips, so soft, so warm, so full of ecstasy.

But you knew you both had to come up for air at some stage and so you waited until you were on the verge of passing out as if holding your breath underwater. You gasped as you came up to the surface, taking in shaky breaths of air, Wednesday doing the same.

You couldn’t help but give a pained grin as her forehead lay against yours, the both of you breathing heavily. Her finger glided softly against the claw marks, your hand reaching up to clasp hers, stilling her movement as you placed her hand against your lips, giving it a tender kiss. You felt like you were dreaming in this moment, maybe it was the blood loss that was making you delirious, but you felt like Wednesday could disappear on you any second, and you didn’t want that.

You gave shaky breaths as you listened to the cackle of the fire that still enveloped the courtyard, not taking your eyes off Wednesday. “Is it wrong of me to assume that you reciprocate my feelings?”

Wednesday seemed to blink at that, your eyes staying locked onto each other, “It would be stupid of you to assume otherwise,” She rolled her eyes, as you began grinning like a complete idiot. “Don’t be so smug about it.” She felt like she had lost a game against you at this moment, and for some strange reason, she didn’t hate it.

“How can I not?” You smiled bigger, paying no mind to the pain on your cheek. “THE Wednesday Addams likes me back.” You gave a small chuckle, “It’s a miracle.”

Her lips twitched as she observed you, “The only miracle I see is how you’re still alive right now,” her lips curled into what looked like a scowl, “Which reminds me, I’m going to kill that imbecile.”

“Who? Xavier? Or Tyler?” You tilted your head slightly in confusion.

Wednesday glared, “Both.”

You chuckled softly as you reached your uninjured arm out, using your hand to trail your fingers along her cheek, along the mass of blood that didn't appear to be her own. She shivered at the touch, her eyes closing subconsciously, "You can do that later," You smiled, loving the warmth that seemed to emit from her, "I just want you here with me."

Wednesday leaned closer at that as if she were hypnotised by the very being that was you. She was distracted, it was a feeling she had never known she could feel. She couldn’t understand how you had the ability to control her as if you were a siren and your song was her weakness. She knew you weren’t a siren, it was glaringly obvious the first day she met you, as you had made a black dahlia materialise within your grasp and offered it to her as if it were the simplest thing, you had ever done.

It was the same black dahlia that Wednesday had forced Thing to make into a bookmark. A bookmark she only used when it came to her favourite novels. A bookmark she seemed to treasure as if her life depended on it. She had a suspicion you knew about it, considering the number of times she had seen your cheeks heat up whenever it had caught your eye.

Wednesday watched as you smiled at her as if she held your heart in the palm of her hands, something so delicate, so precious and you seemed to trust her with it. Her lips seemed to twitch as her hand stroked the claw marks on your face, the wound only seeming to enhance your beauty even more in her eyes. She hated the fact that you could so easily have spiders crawling through her insides, that you could so easily worry her. It wasn’t a feeling that Wednesday could ever get used to.

So, as you leaned closer, ready to capture her lips into another kiss, she let you. Instead of pushing you away, she pulled you closer, gentle enough not to cause you any harm, but you already felt numb to the touch. The kiss masked the pain you felt on your skin, her touch only lighting the burning feeling inside of you because all you could focus on was her lips and her skin against yours. You kept smiling into the kiss, your smile only growing bigger as you pulled away again.

It didn’t last long though, as you both missed the ‘click’ until a shot rang out, ringing in your ears. You didn’t feel it at first as you gasped, but Wednesday's face as it slowly changed into one of panic was all you needed to know what was happening. Wednesday seemed to cover the wound on your chest with her hands, as blood began seeping from your mouth, your hand grasping onto the lapels of Wednesday's blazer.

The ‘click’ sounded again Wednesday took notice this time as she saw Laurel Gates behind you with a semi-automatic pistol in her grasp, a sinister smile on her face, as she now pointed the gun on Wednesday, “I may not get to kill all the outcasts, but at least I’ll get to kill someone you seem to care about Wednesday.” She chuckled darkly, “To think it was this easy.”

Your hold on Wednesday’s blazer slackened, her glare directed at Laurel as her shaky hands kept the pressure on your wound. You were feeling light-headed, not knowing whether the buzzing sound was coming from your own delirious mind, or if it was actually happening. You flinched at the sound of multiple gunshots, the sound of Laurel's screams, the burning sensation in your chest and the hands that seemed to be held to your wound being the only thing you could focus on, besides the taste of blood on your tongue.

You sat there, leaning against a pillar in the burning courtyard your head slightly downcast, with only Wednesday in your sight. She seemed to be yelling at someone, calling for someone. You couldn’t understand a word she was saying as Bianca seemed to take her place, the siren’s jacket now being held to your chest, staining it with your blood.

You felt arms wrap around you, as you seemed to be lifted off the ground, your eyes closing, the pressure on your chest not loosening in the slightest.

Wednesday lifted her head as she came back to her senses, her black shoes having just caved Laurel's skull in. She was breathing heavily as she turned back to where Bianca had started lifting you in an attempt to get you out of there. Not willing to risk the possibility of you burning to death seeing as the flames seemed to be spreading.

The ravenette followed Bianca, remaining close to you the entire way as you lay limp in the siren’s arms. She didn’t want to freak out, your breaths growing shallower by the second as they walked towards the front gates of Nevermore.

Wednesday couldn’t think of anything, she felt like she was on the verge of hyperventilating when Enid had embraced her. The only thing on her mind right now was you, and whether you would be okay or not. Her eyes seemed to blur, she didn’t know whether from fatigue or tears. She made eye contact with your limp form that was now on the ground, Bianca seemingly frantic but Wednesday couldn’t hear a thing, her body meeting the ground as her vision seemed to fade to black.

»────◦•✗•◦────«

Wednesday clutched the side of her head, as she felt the black sheets under her skin. Her vision blurred as she opened her eyes slowly, squinting as a figure materialised before her. It seemed to be nighttime as she glanced at her dorm window, the only light shining through coming from the moon above. She could sense you before you came into focus, smiling down at her with your arm in a sling. She was relieved.

Her lips twitched as she observed you, your hand reaching out to stroke one of her braids, “I’m glad that you’re still alive, Wednesday.” You smiled softly, she could see the scarring from where she lay, the claw marks on your cheek having been stitched up, her fingers twitching to trail along the sensitive skin.

So instead of hesitating she acted, trailing her fingers slowly down the course of your scarring flesh with the gentlest of touches. She observed as you shivered, falling into the warmth that was her hand, a smile of contentment a permanent expression on your face. “I thought—” Wednesday gulped as she took a shaky breath, “I was afraid that you were…”

“I’m right here,” you smiled softly at the ravenette.

Wednesday allowed a small reluctant smile to free from her lips, not being able to hold it back as she watched you. As she felt you, the warmth of your skin, the shiver from her touch. You used your free hand to grab hers, pulling it towards your lips as you gave it a gentle kiss. “Yes, I suppose you are.”

She observed you closely, as you nervously let go of her hand to scratch the back of your neck, a habit that she had grown accustomed to from the moment she had met you. She watched as you began fiddling with your tie, not understanding why you would be wearing your uniform so late at night, but her lips twitched as she noticed its usual wrinkled state, your dress shirt remaining untucked from your pants. But she didn’t question it as she reached over to wrap her pinkie around yours, stopping your movement altogether.

You took a deep breath, “I know it’s late and you just got out of a small coma but—” you gulped, “Would you still be willing to go on a date with me?”

Wednesday tortured you for a moment, remaining silent as you tightened your pinkie around hers. Her face remained passive as she just stared at you, she wanted to know how serious you were. She gouged for your reaction a moment longer, letting you squirm in your nerves before smirking, “That could be arranged.”

You chuckled nervously her dark eyes trailing towards your sling, your eyes seeming to follow, “It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

Wednesday didn’t want to think about it, the way the arrow had embedded itself into your shoulder, the way the gunshot had almost had her witnessing your death right before her eyes. She didn’t want to think about how close she was to losing you. So, she looked away, meeting your eyes in the process, “How long was I out for?”

You looked away for a moment clearing your throat, “So about that date?”

The ravenette glared at you, “Y/N,” she gritted out, “answer the question.”

You winced, “One week.” Wednesday's eyes widened slightly as they observed you, blinking a few times before going back to her usual unblinking stare. “Everyone was worried, your mother informed them that you were fine and that you would wake up soon.”

Wednesday paused for a moment, “I’m more surprised that you’re awake before me, considering the injuries you received that night.”

You chuckled softly, your smile not seeming to reach your eyes as you observed the ravenette. “How about that date?” You squeezed her pinkie affectionately.

»────◦•✗•◦────«

The wolves were howling as you both made your way into the darkened cemetery, the rusty gate opening with a squeak. You spun with a smile, walking backwards as Wednesday carried the shovels, observing each plot, trying to decide which grave seemed the most intriguing.

It was a full moon on this very night, the light of the moon illuminating against your skin as Wednesday seemed to follow you. She observed you for a moment, her lips twitching at how beautiful you looked. The way you seemed free at this moment. She blinked once before going back to examining the different gravestones.

Wednesday was about to continue before one in particular caught her eye. It seemed so fresh, though the green grass that seemed to cascade around it, and the flowers that seemed to have grown made it look like it had been there for years. Wednesday didn’t know who had been laid to rest there, but it intrigued her, to say the least as if a string were tugging her towards it.

She carefully placed her shovels down, feeling your presence behind her, a chill going down her spine as she carefully ran her fingers down the gravestone. “Are you sure?” Your voice broke her out of her trance, as she looked back towards you. She couldn’t see the name on the gravestone, the name covered by a thick layer of moss. But Wednesday was intrigued, so she nodded in reply before getting up and grabbing one of the shovels.

She seemed to be in her element as she dug, the moonlight reflecting off her pale skin, making her look more ghostlike than anything. But to you, she looked ethereal, like a fallen angel who had been cast out of heaven. “Thank you.”

You shook out of your trance, “For what?”

Wednesday gave a small smile, “Bringing me here,”

You seemed to chuckle softly, although your smile never reached your eyes, “How could I not on a night like this?” you gave her a soft smile as you stared up at the moon before meeting her eyes once again, “The moon is beautiful tonight, isn’t it?”

Wednesday reciprocated your action, observing the moon herself before looking back down, at the way the moon lit your skin, “I suppose it is.” She kept digging after that, looking over at you every so often to make sure you were still there, hoping that you’d never disappear. That you’d stay with her for all of eternity.

“Wednesday…” The voice hadn’t been yours that time, but it was familiar all the same. Wednesday stilled her digging as she made eye contact with the newcomer.

“What brings you here, Mother?” Wednesday stared at her.

“It appeared you were no longer in your bed,” Morticia didn’t move from where she stood, her gothic clothing blending her into the night. “I had a feeling you would be here.”

Wednesday huffed at her mother, dirt covering her own features, “As you can clearly see, I am quite busy right now.” She motioned towards the shovel, rolling her eyes as she went back to her task, “So if you would not so kindly leave, it would be appreciated.”

Morticia didn’t move from her spot, “Wednesday…” her voice unnaturally shook, “This won’t bring her back.”

Wednesday gritted her teeth as she stared at her mother’s unusually soft eyes, “What are you talking about?” she could feel it deep down, as her heart seemed to tighten.

Morticia took a step forward as she met her daughter's eyes, “You know as well as I do that she’s gone Wednesday.”

The ravenette paused, her tone weaker than the last, “Who are you talking about?”

The older Addams took a deep breath as she looked at her daughter, sorrow flashing across her eyes, a frown etched on her unnaturally beautiful face, “Y/N”.

Wednesday’s eyebrows furrowed, “That's utterly impossible,” her voice slightly shaky “She’s right here” Wednesday motioned towards you, as she reached out to grab your hand. Her throat seemed to tighten as her hand passed through, capturing nothing but air in its midst.

“Her family wanted to hold the funeral right away,” Morticia closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them again.

Wednesday's hands shook as she tried again but failed to grab your hand, “She can’t be…” Her voice shook, “She’s not…” She saw your clothes, the way they were unkempt like they always had been, closing her eyes for only a moment, before opening them back up. She saw it then, the way your uniform was tattered, the head of the arrow still in your shoulder, the gunshot wound in your chest still visible and the claw marks on your cheek still an open wound. But above all, she saw the sad smile you gave her as all the things she had blocked away seemed to hit her.

She stayed there for a moment, just staring at you, her chest burning, her heart feeling like it was being strangled to its limit. She clenched her fists as she turned around, her vision blurring, the gravestone so obviously in front of her from where she stood as she slowly with a shaky hand began to wipe off the moss.

Her breaths became shallower as the name under it became clearer, the name becoming visible to her for the first time. Her fingers were shaky as they traced the name under the moss, ‘Y/N L/N’ She hoped she’d wake up at any moment, that maybe she was still in a coma. Maybe she had dreamt everything up until this moment. Maybe when she woke up, you’d still be alive in the dorm room you had filled with flowers, the dorm room that she had been to many times before, just because you had the ability to tug at her heartstrings with just a smile.

She had uncharacteristically loved the fact that you were a free spirit, that you made her flowers anytime you thought she was upset. How you would stay with her in comfortable silence whenever she had writing time. She didn’t want to believe for even a moment that she would never get those moments again.

She didn’t want to think about the fact that she would never hear your laughter again, that you would never be there to hear her play the Cello. She didn’t want to believe that she would never receive your precious flowers again or be able to witness the blinding smile that overtook your face whenever she accepted them.

Wednesday slowly and shakily climbed out of the ditch she had created, as she moved slowly closer to you. You looked so real, so perfect under the moonlight, but as she tried one last time to grab a hold of you, she couldn’t. It was the one thing she wanted more than anything, the touch of your skin and she couldn’t have it.

Morticia moved forward towards her daughter, wanting more than anything to embrace her, not being able to stand the clear heartbreak on her face as her mind was still battling with her reality.

Wednesday looked past you as Goody materialised out of thin air, walking up from behind you. “Goody,” the ravenette’s voice shook, Goody’s expression solemn as if she were here to take you away. “Please. Bring her back.”

“You know I can’t,” Goody smiled sadly, “I could only save you that night, with what little power I had left.”

Wednesday shook her head as her voice seemed to crack, “Then why are you here?”

Goody placed a hand on your shoulder as she stepped forward, “It’s time.”

The ravenette took a shaky breath, “Please…” her chest burned as her throat closed up more, “Don’t take her.”

Goody didn’t respond as you stepped forward away from the hand on your shoulder, causing it to drop. Your hand reached out as Wednesday watched you, tears brimming her eyes but not releasing. You did the only thing you could think of in the moment, as you made a black dahlia materialise into thin air. Wednesday felt a hand on her shoulder as Morticia appeared beside her.

The ravenette’s hand closed around the stem of the flower, as she stared at it, “Please don’t go.” The tears she had tried so hard to hold back finally fell when her eyes connected with yours. “Please just stay.” She had promised herself she would never cry, ever since her pet scorpion ‘Nero’ had been murdered, but she couldn’t hold it in anymore as her heart felt like it was being torn to shreds. “Please don’t leave me…”

You gave a sad smile as your cold lips ever so slowly made contact with hers. She stayed right where she was, afraid that if she moved the illusion would break, the illusion that she could feel your lips against hers, the illusion that you were still here, with her. She could almost believe she could still feel the beat of your heart. She didn’t want to break out of it, the tears falling freely as she hoped this moment would never end. She didn’t want you to be gone, she didn’t want you to leave her side, but she knew that was too good to be true.

She held the flower in her hand tight as you detached from her, you mouthed your final words, Goody’s hand latching onto your shoulder as you both seemed to disappear. Wednesday watched as the flower petals got left in your wake, staring blankly at the spot you used to be, playing over and over in her head the final words of ‘I love you’ that had left your lips.

Tears fell down Wednesday's face, her fist clenching around the flower in her hand. The sky let out a rumble as droplets of rain began to fall, mixing into the tears as the ravenette didn’t seem to move from her spot. She looked down at the black dahlia in her hand for almost an eternity, before resolving herself as she jumped back down into the ditch, not even paying attention to the mud that had begun to soften the dirt below. She grabbed hold of her shovel as she began digging, she felt someone drop beside her as they too began to dig, her eyes meeting her own mother's.

Her shovel seemed to hit something, as she bent down getting rid of all the mud that covered the casket. Her hands trailed its simple design. Morticia climbed out at that moment, Wednesday beginning to open the casket, the flower still grasped in her hand.

She didn’t know what to expect, as you were revealed. Your skin was so pale, yet for some reason, you looked almost like you were sleeping. She hated fairytales to the bone, but at this moment, she wished you were snow white, wished maybe you were sleeping beauty so that when her lips touched yours maybe it would break the curse and you would live happily ever after. But she knew it wasn’t how death worked, as he had claimed your life that night a week ago.

The rain dripped on your face, your pale skin seeming to shine like crystals under the moonlight. She took a shaky breath, kneeling towards you, her hand reaching out slowly to stroke your scarred cheek ever so softly. The flower in her hand disappeared from her grasp as she slowly placed the black dahlia in between your clasped hands, making you seem more ethereal in your eternal slumber than you already were.

There was no smile on your face, just a look of peace as you lay to rest, your heart remaining completely and utterly still. Wednesday stood a moment to admire you before shakily closing the casket back up. She took her time as she slowly covered it back up with dirt and soil, watching in slow motion as the grass and flowers covered the ground back up as she shovelled the final layer of dirt on top. The rain continued to fall, as she knelt stroking your name on your gravestone with all that she felt for you. She felt Morticia’s hand on her shoulder as the ravenette whispered the words she had wished she had been able to tell you, the words ‘I love you’ leaving her lips.

Maybe this was the curse, loving someone for all of eternity only for them to be taken away from you in the blink of an eye. Because Wednesday knew without a doubt that she would never love another, that you were her one and only and that she for once in her life, hoped that one day she would find her way back to you. That once she took her final breath, you would be there to greet her from the other side.

Wednesday seemed to ignore everyone as she sat on her balcony, looking up at the bright moon as the rain continued to fall. She didn’t have her cello with her as she sat there, staring up at the night sky, wearing your favourite jacket, one that was all too big for her, but she didn’t mind, as she revelled in the lingering scent of you.

She held the bookmark against her shattered heart, the one that reminded her of the first day she met you, as she trailed her free hand against her lips, still feeling the cold traces of their last kiss. Your name forever the name on her lips. 

»────◦•✗•◦────«

Jamie Speaks:

Hahaha... Honestly, someone should take my writing privileges away from me.

How does one even write a sad fic?

Melting

wednesday addams x fem!reader — 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you went trick or treating with your girlfriend. warnings/themes: soft!wednesday (ooc eheh), halloween, trick-or-treating, making out words: 1.8k

'Tis the witching season! 

The whole neighborhood is in a festive mood, with ghouls and ghosts lurking around, kids dressed up as their favorite or the scariest characters. 

Now, there's someone who couldn't care less about all the hoopla. 

You know Wednesday doesn't like to be all sunshine and rainbows, but secretly, you've always wished she would let her guard down and have some fun. 

“It's overrated,” she scoffs. But if there's one thing that can sway her, it's you. 

The nostalgia. You missed those carefree days when your only worry was scoring as much candy as possible in one night. And now you have the perfect opportunity to go back to your child self and relive those memories. 

“Pleeeeeeaaaaase Wednesday,” you whine, dropping to your knees and clasping your hands in front of her. 

She doesn't bat an eye. She just continues to write, her fingers moving across the typewriter. 

“Please baby, please love, please,” you try again, pulling out all the stops—cute silly nicknames, puppy dog eyes that you know she secretly adores. “It'll be super fun.” 

Finally, she stops writing. She lifts her head and turns to face you. She pauses for a long moment, considering your plea. “Fine. But only on one condition,” she starts. “I know it's important to you—so I'll indulge your request. This is just a one-time thing. We won't be making this a habit.” 

“Just... once?” 

“Just once,” she repeats. 

You think for a moment. “...okay.” You nod. “But I'll choose the costume.” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Fine, no funny business. Let's make this quick and clean, understood?” 

“Understood.” You grinned.

—

“Hey there, Mario!” you exclaim with an exaggerated Italian accent while waving your hands around, trying to mimic how he does it. “It's-a-me, Luigi, your lovable sidekick!” 

“It's-a-me, Luigi? I don't know which I hate more—my ridiculous costume or your ridiculous sense of humor.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked down at the garish plumber's costume she was forced to wear. She even had to wear a fake mustache. “I can't believe I let you convince me to wear this ridiculous costume.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the daggers she was sending your way. “Don't worry, no one will recognize you as Wednesday with this get-up.” You winked, but she was having none of it. “Besides, this is just a 'one-time' thing, right?”

She groaned inwardly. “Just make sure you carry this, you have a stronger arm.” With a huff, she hands you the pumpkin. “After all, you're the one who suggested this fiasco, so the least you could do is carry the stupid thing.”

Her hand snaked around your wrist, her grip was so tight you could feel it even through your gloves. 

You both made your way to Jericho, the streets were alive with kids in crazy costumes running around, laughing and shouting as they made their way to different houses. The streets are lined with jack-o'-lanterns and spider webs. 

Suddenly, you spot a house that looks amazing. There are a few children waiting outside, excitedly chattering as they anticipate a chance to fill their buckets with candy.

“Let's try that one,” you say, pointing to the house. “They look like they're giving out some good treats.”

Wednesday just nods and crosses her arms, not seeming interested in going with you to get candies. “I'll just stay here,” she insists.

“Are you sure?” you ask, pausing to look at her for a moment.

She simply nods, waiting for you to get your candies. You give her a quick smile and head towards the house. 

You ring the doorbell and wait for someone to answer. A woman with a warm smile opens the door.

“Trick or treat!” you say, holding your pumpkin out.

However, the woman looks at you with disdain. “Aren't you a little too old for this?”

The smile slips from your face as you realize what she means. But before you can say anything else, she closes the door in your face. You stand there, stunned, staring at the closed door. 

That was rude.

You returned to Wednesday, your shoulders slumping as you held up your empty pumpkin.

She looks at you with an eyebrow raised, as if to ask what happened.

You scratch the back of your neck and frown. She could almost see the smoke coming out of your ears. “She... she said I was too old for this.”

You can tell she's angry at the way you were treated, and you secretly hope she doesn't plan on getting back at the woman for her rudeness. She can't believe the audacity of that woman, as if there's an age limit for having fun.

Still, you don't let the incident put a damper on the rest of your night.

“It's fine, there's still a lot of houses we can try again,” you say, grabbing her arms and looking around for another house to approach.

But people keep telling you that you're too old for Halloween and refuse to give you candy.

Wednesday senses your disappointment and starts coming up with elaborate plans to avenge the people who have denied you treats. She seems determined to make them pay for their deeds, yet you keep trying to convince her to just move on and keep searching for sweets.

Just as you were about to give up, you came across a house with the porch light off, but you could hear giggling coming from inside. 

This time, Wednesday joins you in trick-or-treating.

Together, you knock on the door and a person in a ghost costume stands in the doorway, holding a bowl of candy. 

“Trick or treat,” you say, holding out your pumpkin for a sweet.

Wednesday's stare serves as a warning to the person not to disappoint you or suffer the consequences.

The man hesitates before finally grabbing a handful of candy from the bowl and thrusting it into your pumpkin, his hands shaking with fear.

You thank them, and Wednesday gives you a smile as you walk away. “See? Things aren't so bad after all.”

Wednesday rolls her eyes. “Let's just keep going,” she says, before pushing you forward towards the next house.

—

You were walking back from trick-or-treating, your pumpkin filled to the brim with sweets and goodies. 

“Let's go back,” Wednesday mumbled as she walked alongside you, still holding onto your hand. Her hand slipped into your biceps, yet she hardly even noticed.

You nod, prepared to return home. However, before you can leave, you hear a voice from behind you. 

“Wednesday Addams?!” the boy says in shock, recognizing her beneath the Mario costume. 

“Oh, for Christ's sake,” Wednesday muttered under her breath. She couldn't believe someone had recognized her in her stupid, ridiculous Mario costume. She could swear in her life that she's never felt so stupid.

You turned to see a boy dressed in a brightly colored insect costume, his antennae bobbing as he waved at both of you. “Hey Eugene!” 

Wednesday narrows her eyes. “What are you doing here, Eugene?”

“I came to get some candy!” He replied eagerly, his eyes sparkling, but then his eyes widened. “Wait... is that really you... Wednesday?” he asks, taking a step forward. 

Wednesday clenches her jaw and you stifle a laugh, amused by her reaction. You offer Eugene some candy from your pumpkin, and he excitedly accepts it, thanking you.

“Eugene, can you take a picture of us?” you request, handing him your phone. 

Wednesday snapped her head in your direction, her eyebrows furrowed as she glared at you. She's just about lost it. She swore in her mind that she would never take a picture wearing this ridiculous costume.

You flung your arm around her and gave a peace sign as Eugene held up your phone. You chuckle and give Wednesday's waist a reassuring squeeze.

“Three, two...”

Wednesday knows she will be miserable. But she looked at your smile and realized that, despite her aversion to the costume, she didn't want to ruin your fun. So she reluctantly struck a peace sign, hoping that no one would recognize her under that ridiculous mustache.

“One!” the flash flickers, and the photo is captured. 

She couldn't deny the warmth in her chest as she watched the picture saved to your phone.

—

You realized that your feet were starting to feel tired after walking so much. Eager to rest your tired legs, the two of you made your way over to a nearby bench, tucked away amidst the shadows of the trees. 

Wednesday is now holding the pumpkin-shaped basket full of sweets while you gaze up at the stars in the sky. She eventually pulled out one of the candies and popped it into her mouth.

“Taste good?” You turn to look at her. 

“Tastes like poison,” she teases before popping it into her mouth.

You can't help but stare at her lips. Why did her lips look like they were begging to be kissed?

“Do you want one?” Wednesday asks, seemingly reading your thoughts. 

You were almost too stunned to speak, but a soft “yes” managed to escape your lips. 

Small smile formed on her lips, as though she knew exactly what she was doing. She offered the candy before you swallowed it whole, savoring the sweetness on your tongue. 

A glance at her lips and then back at her eyes told her everything she needed to know.

Before you knew it, Wednesday had leaned in to share the sweet with you, her lips soft and supple on yours, the taste of candy still lingering on your tongue.

When you finally pulled away, you were left weak in the knees and breathless.

Wednesday's lips part slightly, her breath brushing against your cheek. You lean in again, but she stops you with a gentle hand on your chest.

“One condition,” she whispers.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

“I get to choose the costume next year.”

“We're going to trick or treat again next year?” you ask, grinning. “Fine,” you concede, “your choice of costume next year then.”

With Wednesday's permission granted, you lean in for another kiss, this time lingering even longer than before. Your lips lock together in a sensual dance. 

But you pull away, teasing her. “Wait.”

“What now?”

“Well, I was thinking we could dress up as Remy and his human companion, Alfredo from Ratatouille.”

Wednesday's eyes narrow, clearly annoyed at your choice.

“Okay, I admit, that was a terrible idea, but what about SpongeBob and Patrick? or I can go as Squidward, and we can be rivals instead,” you suggest, desperate to find a costume she'll actually like.

She rolls her eyes, but you could already see the corner of her lips twitching up into a small smile. “You did not just suggest that.”

“Oh yes I did.”

“I'm not dressing up as a rat with a chef's hat next year, that's for sure. And you're not going to make me dress up as a sponge either.”

You smirk. “Maybe not, but I'll still find a way to make you dress up as something ridi—”

Before you finish your sentence, Wednesday's lips are on yours once more, drowning out your words. Her fingers glide down your jaw as she draws you in closer.

“That's it,” she whispers between kisses. “You're stuck with me now.”

And you wouldn't want it any other way.

note: me

dk if it’s a hot take or not but the script of miller’s girl is complete ass

literally some pedophile fetish nonsense with nothing adequate to tell

what even is the point of it as a work of fiction? what is it trying to say? it has no coherent idea behind it and it’s not even fun. like at all

wow a manipulative girl who writes wattpad porn wow an older man who’s her teacher wow a girl on girl make out scene where one of them takes a picture to send to a MAN

gagging what the fuck is this

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER 03

Summary: Jenna's need to find out who you really are is prevailing, so is her arousal.

Pairings: Jenna Ortega x G!P!Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Smut. Mentions of sex and kinks. Sexting, masturbation, voyeurism. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's note: Sorry to keep you guys waiting. I hope it was worth it, huh? Let me know what you think!

MASTERLIST!

(Y/N)xz: hey

(Y/N)xz: i'm so glad you decided to take up my offer

jenna2709: really?

(Y/N)xz: yeah

(Y/N)xz: i honestly thought you wouldn't say yes

jenna2709: i had to.

jenna2709: getting a private livestream from you isn't something you can get everyday.

(Y/N)xz: i can see you're very excited for that

jenna2709: i am.

jenna2709: what about you?

(Y/N)xz: counting the days

(Y/N)xz: wanted to see your face for quite sometime now

jenna2709: you've at least imagined what i look like by now, right?

(Y/N)xz: a little

(Y/N)xz: also the fact that i can only think about my coworker's face when i think of you it's a little bit strange

jenna2709: oh, why is that?

(Y/N)xz: it's because you guys have the same name

(Y/N)xz: which is weird because i see her everyday and we never even really talked

(Y/N)xz: maybe it's because she is the only jenna i know

(Y/N)xz: was*

(Y/N)xz: now i know you :)

jenna2709: i hope she's pretty enough for you.

jenna2709: i want you to imagine me as some pretty girl.

(Y/N)xz: she's gorgeous

(Y/N)xz: bet you're more, though

jenna2709: guess you'll find out soon enough.

"Okay, now you're being straight up mean." Jasmine said while eating a piece of her spring salad, while looking at her friend. "You said you're showing her your face and now you're suddenly giving up?"

"I'm not giving up, Jasmine. It's just, I don't know why I agreed." Jenna sighed, while trying to distract herself reading a couple of lines from her script. "And now she's gonna know who I am and she's gonna be so embarrassed. Fuck, it's gonna be so freaking awkward. I'm working with her every single day."

"How are you so sure they are the same person? Just because of a scar? Millions of people have scars." Jasmine said, which made Jenna wonder for a while: What if she was, in fact, losing her goddamn mind and they weren't the same person?

"No, I just remembered. They have the same voice, as well. I'm 99% sure." The younger actress would never admit it, but she was so afraid of that 1%. "And also, she has a few tattoos. If only I could at least see if she has those tattoos. But she's always wearing long sleeves, fuck. I'm definitely not gonna do that video call and that's final."

"You're being a chicken and you know it. What's the worse that can happen? If anything, you'll end up sucking her dick right on that nasty green couch in the break room." Jasmine felt a slap right on her left arm. "Hey! It's not like you're not gonna enjoy it! You seem like one of those kinky ass chicks who no one thinks that are actually kinky."

"Oh please, you should've seen her kink list from her profile." Jenna immediately regretted saying that. Mental note: Think about everything you're gonna say to Jasmine.

"Wait, what?!"

"Breeding, breath play, knife play- Oh fuck, she's crazy. Run. Run for your life! Run for the hills!" They laughed, while Jenna tried her best to hide her embarrassment. "Holy shit, she's that kinky. How the fuck do they have that?"

"When you sign up, you have to fill out your kink list. I thought you also had an account, dingus."

"I do, dingus, but the kink list is not mandatory." Jasmine stopped for awhile, until she thought for one second. "God, you filled yours?!"

"Give me my phone now." Jenna said, trying to look angry while Jasmine got up from the chair and started to run away with the latina's phone in her hand, trying to search the list on Jenna's profile.

"I have the power in my hands!" Jasmine and Jenna didn't knew how, but they ran until the parking lot, looking like two little sisters having an argument over a toy. "Girl, you're into that?" The black girl said, while laughing, which made Jenna angrier.

Before the younger one could even respond to that, she felt a body crash against hers, making her almost fall over to the floor, but thankfully her body was held in time to prevent that from happening. "Hey, are you alright?"

Fuck, it was you.

"Yeah, I'm sorry... Jasmine- She had- " Jenna tried to speak but ended up mumbling all of the words. The way your strong arms held her, your woody perfume which she swore it was the best scent she has ever smelled in her life, your face looking at her as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

"Don't worry about that, just try to be careful next time, okay?" You almost were talking down to her, as if she was a little kid, which was something that would immediately make Jenna hate you. Since she started working as a child, having people treat her as one made her blood boil. But no, not this time. "I was actually looking for you."

"Really?" Jenna said, after recomposing herself, her worries about her phone were long gone. Jasmine could see her nude pics, for all she cared. All she could think about was the fact that you were looking for her.

"Yeah, I kinda needed to adjust some of the camera's settings before we start shooting." Oh, okay. At least she thought about me first, she considered. "You know, saturation, contrast and stuff. Need to do with the whole cast, actually." She knew what it was, she had to do that at least, a hundred times over the course of her career. But god, you looked so cute while explaining it.

"Yeah, yeah, we can do that. I just need to get my phone and I'll be there." Jenna said, trying to seem as casual as possible, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear for god knows whatever reason.

"Alright, I'll be at stage 5. And try to not run like that again, okay? You could really get hurt." You smiled sympathetically to her, it wasn't visible to you but Jenna's heart was fluttering as if she was a teenage girl who just spoke to the most popular boy at school.

"Yeah, sure... I'll be careful, totally." She smiled back, before watching you leave, her legs almost giving up on her before hearing Jasmine's voice behind her, driving her out of her thoughts.

"Oh, (Y/N), I'll be careful, I swear! I'll promise I will never ever fall again, unless you're here to hold me in your arms, oh god!" Jenna rolled her eyes, jokingly, while snatching her phone away from Jasmine's hands. "I mean it, either she's the most oblivious person on the planet or you just straight up told her you want her P in your V with your body language."

"It wasn't that obvious, Jasmine. You're being too much."

"Girl, the tension was almost palpable. Please hope that she's stupid enough to let this pass. What were you guys talking about, anyways?"

"She wants to adjust some of the camera's colour settings and needs me to be there. And also the entire cast, as well. But she asked me first, that must be something right?"

"Literally nothing, Jenna." The latina rolled her eyes, ignoring her friend. "But still, you can use that opportunity to figure out if she's really the chick from the website. Try to find out if she has those tattoos you saw on the livestream."

"Thankfully you had a good idea, for once."

"And if she's really her, you can suck on her balls without feeling guilty."

"You're not helping." Jenna sighed, running her hands through her hair. "I'm gonna kill myself tonight."

"For a girl with a pussy like yours, that would be a waste."

"You'd seen my pictures?!" Jenna looked at her friend furiously, wide-eyed.

"Oh my god I was joking, do you really have pussy pics?!"

"I hate you!" She almost screamed before leaving a laughing Jasmine behind. Jenna was nervous, of course. You guys started filming this week, and throughout the entire period you guys were there, she tried her best to avoid you due to the fact that she was, actually, a chicken. You guys didn't even spoke much, that only one occasion a couple of moments ago being the first real conversation you guys had. Just, being around you made her nervous. And it wasn't even because of the streams she's been watching. It's just, you're you. Your body language, your voice, the way you act around set, you seem so freaking professional and Jenna was a sucker for that. The way you dressed, the way you took care of everyone who worked with you. She has been with her eye on you every day ever since she met you, and she's been watching you very closely. Everything about you drove Jenna insane, and surprisingly, she liked that.

After a couple of minutes walking through set, with her hands sweating and lots of heavy breathing, she finally made it into stage 5. You were there with a couple of people from production; some of them working on their own stuff, and a couple of guys talking about you while you held one of the cameras that would be used through filming. You were laughing a bit, something that made Jenna's heart flutter. Damn it.

"Yeah, and he was the kind of guy who wouldn't - Oh, hey Jenna! Talk to you guys later, okay?" You politely dismissed the guys you were talking to as soon as you saw Jenna enter your field of vision. Fuck, why did you have to be so well mannered? "Are you ready to look at me for a couple of hours?"

"I'm- I-" Jenna stuttered, making you laugh a little bit. She was being kinda cute, you thought.

"Relax, I'm joking. It'll be only a couple of minutes. I promise you don't have to get stuck with me for more than that." But I would definitely like to, Jenna thought to herself. "Can you stand on that mark for me, please?" Oh, she would do anything for you if you asked her like that again. So she stood on that mark, five feet away from you, while you put the camera on the tripod, already connected to the monitors and software responsible for editing. Jenna looked straight at the lenses, but thankfully she got to look at you while you set things up, and oh god you were a sight for sore eyes.

"Okay, can you look at the little red dot for me, please?" She almost hated you for being so polite, and obviously did what you asked. You would never admit that in front of anyone, but Jenna was truly one of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. Looking at her through the lenses was definitely the best part of this job.

"So, you've been working with this for a while?" Jenna said, wanting to start some small talk in order to find out more about you (and your tattoos, obviously).

"Um, not really. I finished college a couple of months ago, this is my first real job as a videographer. Dave was nice enough to put me under his wing and be my mentor, actually." You said while pressing some buttons on the camera and typing on the keyboard under the monitors. "I've worked in movie sets while in college, but mostly I just held microphones and cleaned camera lenses."

"For someone who already graduated, you seem really young. How old are you?" Jenna couldn't remember if your profile said you were twenty-three or twenty-four.

"Oh, thanks. You don't look so bad yourself, either." Jenna really hoped you were flirting with her (deep down, she kinda knew you weren't). "I'm twenty-four, actually."

"Really? You look really young." Jenna smiled slightly, secretly looking at you while you were pressing more buttons which she wouldn't even bother knowing what they did. "I get that a lot, too. I'm only twenty-one, but people think I'm seventeen most of the times."

"That must be annoying, huh?" You looked at her face through the lenses again, the adjusted lighting making her look more beautiful that she already was, if that's possible.

"Oh, you have no idea. I'm almost getting a tattoo on my forehead that says 'No longer a minor'." You both laughed for a moment. "Do you have any?"

"Tattoos? Yeah, just a couple." Fuck, she was close. She just needed to see one of them.

"Do they hurt a lot? I wanted to get one but I'm kinda scared." She wasn't.

"Yeah, a little. Nothing you can't handle." You stopped doing what you were doing to come a bit closer, which made the latina hold her breath for a second. "This one was the worst, definitely."

You lift up the hem of your shirt just a little, but enough for Jenna to see your slightly muscular v-line. Oh fuck, she felt like passing out. Until you showed her your tattoo, it was a roman number that Jenna couldn't even bother to figure out what it meant, but one thing was for sure: it was the same tattoo she had seen on the streams.

"That's cute..." She tried her best not to sound suspicious. You smiled and started to get back behind the camera.

"That one hurt like a bitch, I swear." You laughed a bit, before pressing the final buttons on the camera. "I think we're done! Can I take a video of you to see if the settings worked out?" Jenna only could nod, the thought of having you abdomen close to her mouth and not being able to lick it was the most traumatic experience of her life. "Okay, can you smile for me?"

And like the whipped bitch she was, she happily did. You shot the video for a couple of seconds and saved it, looking at it for a bit before gazing at the girl again. "Okay, that's pretty much it. Thank you for coming here, yeah?"

"Sure, no problem." She was almost shaking, she hated the fact you were such a sweetheart while at work, and at the website you acted like the lesbian version of Magic Mike. So, she left. Regretting the fact she didn't even made her move because being around you was intimidating enough to keep her from breathing properly, but at least she did what she was there to do: she knew, for sure, that you were the person she thought you were. And now, she had another issue to deal with.

Thankfully, you guys scheduled the video chat for tomorrow. Jenna knew that today she wasn't ready to reveal her face to the person who's been occupying her thoughts for the past few days. So, she did what she's been religiously doing for the past week. Locked her hotel room door, put her headphones on and relaxed while watching your stream. Only god knows how much she missed watching you stroke your cock while moaning softly and talking the filthiest shit ever. Jenna turned on her laptop and went on the website, which by now was marked as her favorite, and as usual, you were already there.

This time around, Jenna just wanted to enjoy watching you. No games or teasing, she genuinely wanted to look at you while you pleased yourself in front of her.

"Hey guys, how are y'all doing? Hope y'all are doing great." Even now, you were the most polite person ever. Fuck, she hated that. And you. She hated you. Definitely despised you.

You interacted with the chat for a couple of minutes, before really starting to put on your show. Obviously you knew "jenna2709" was watching, and now, even though you would never admit it, you liked putting your show to her, and only her. So now, you were dedicated to deliver the best show you could ever do. "I'm gonna try something different today, if you guys don't mind. But I'm sure you guys are gonna love it as much as I am."

Your hardened cock was already starting to pulse in your pants, so you were quick enough to unbutton your jeans and let your member spring free. Jenna's mouth watered at the sight of your throbbing cock, making her wish she could lick all of your pre-cum off of your tip.

For all these days Jenna's been watching you, she has never touched herself while you were streaming. Mainly because she was scared that once she did, she wouldn't be able to look at your face again out of embarrassment. But it seemed that every stream that she's watched, it got harder and harder to maintain her posture.

Jenna looked at you while you slowly stroked your dick, which started to made her anxious. She knew you had to tease in order to keep your viewers watching (which is why Jenna was the one emptying her bank account to you so you could cum faster). That same odd feeling on the pit of her stomach started to become more and more present, and she hated the fact the she couldn't just cave in and thrust two fingers inside of her aching cunt. You drove her out of her thoughts when you grabbed something from behind your camera, which made Jenna curious to what it was, exactly. And then she realized it was a tiny silicone ass toy, with an small opening right at the vagina. Oh, fuck.

"Do you guys ever think about someone while jacking off or is it just me?" You asked your viewers while putting a litte bit of lube on the toy. You would never admit this on camera, but you obviously were talking about Jenna. Not Jenna, your coworker, of course. But there was something about Jenna, your viewer, that made you intrigued: you didn't even knew what she look like, but all of the conversations you had in this past week made you wonder who was she, and what she was doing watch you religiously every night? What was it about you that made her so committed? The was she spoke to you in your chat, the way she tipped you just so you could cum for her, and her only. It's safe to say that, even without knowing what her face looked like (and trying your best not to think about Jenna, your coworker, because they shared the same name, of course), you started to think about her in those extremely intimate moments.

"So you got someone on your mind now, huh?" One of the viewers asked in the chat, which made Jenna anxious for the answer. If you were thinking about someone else, she would definitely want to know who it was.

"Yes and no. Maybe if I knew how she looked like, exactly, then she would 100% be occupying my head." You laughed a bit. Thank god your viewers couldn't see your face, because it was flushed red from embarrassment. You shrugged it off and started to tease the tip of your cock right onto the toy's pussy, wanting to get your viewers more excited. Which, of course, worked every single time.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $300 with the message: you know i hate it when you tease.

"I know you do, baby. That's why it's so fun." You laughed again, holding your cock by the base while still rubbing your tip onto the toy. Little did Jenna knew, but deep down, you were teasing just to get her attention.

jenna2709: what's the fun of being an annoying tease, huh?

"Being able to frustrate you." Jenna sighed. Oh, you were a demon. How could someone who is so polite and well mannered at work, behaved like this when the night came? "Come on, we both know that you enjoy this."

jenna2709: more than i care to admit.

"Alright, I'll stop being mean, okay? Let me give you what you've been waiting for, baby." You slowly penetrated your dick into the toy, which immediately made you drag out a raspy and low moan. The tightness of the toy was beginning to drive you insane, and for a brief second you wished you had Jenna's pussy around your cock, instead of a fake silicone one.

"Fuck." Jenna whispered to herself, feeling her underwear getting ruined for the fifth time this week. She felt her clit throb and pulse, it was incredible that you didn't even had to do anything huge to get Jenna turned on, just by breathing you aroused the shit out of her. "No. Pull yourself together."

jenna2709: i would kill someone to be in this toy's place.

"And I would kill someone to have you right here, right now." You started to slowly thrust your member inside of the tight, yet slightly slippery toy, your moaning now becoming louder and louder. Thankfully the hotel doors weren't thin enough, so you could be considerably loud without worrying about other people in the floor. Unbeknownst to you, "jenna2709" was just down the hallway watching you, in the verge of tears trying her best not to succumb to her primal desires and touch herself. "Fuck, this feels so good..."

jenna2709: you're making it impossible for me to not touch myself.

"Why don't you, baby? Maybe we get to cum together this time around, huh?" That seemed like an irresistible offer that Jenna really, really wanted to accept and decline, at the same time. For some reason, you figured that she was depriving herself of something good and a part of you wanted to just leave it that way, maybe she had her own reasons to just stand still while watching your streams. But another part of you really wanted to have some fun with this. So, like the devil you and Jenna knew you were, you licked your thumb and started to make circular motions over the toy's clit, while thrusting your cock steadily inside of it. "Don't you wish I was doing that to you?"

"Oh my fucking god." Jenna couldn't hold it in anymore. She tried, god, she really tried. But it was too much, even for her. Without thinking about the day after, she pulled down her pants alongside with her underwear and finally decided to give her pussy some attention. She was dripping wet, not ironically wetting her sheets in the process, but she wasn't even paying attention to those details. The only thing she cared enough to do was to thrust one finger inside her throbbing, aching cunt. Which, of course, she did. And the immediate feeling of relief took over her entire body the minute she felt her finger inside of her. Jenna felt dirty, as she was the pastor's daughter in a small town who just met an outlaw that tricked her into all those things. But damn, it felt good to be dirty and tricked. She started to thrust slowly, giving the fact she didn't masturbated often and she was just getting used to the feeling of her own finger inside her tight pussy. But, for some reason and for the first time, it wasn't enough. She needed more, and she wanted more. Fuck, she just wanted you.

"God, this is so fucking tight..." You moaned, more to yourself than to your stream, which drove Jenna out of her thoughts. She looked at you, fucking that toy while sweat was dripping off your body, and your low moaning was captured through your microphone. You were the hottest person she has ever met in her entire life.

jenna2709: you were right, maybe this time around we do get to cum together.

Jenna typed, without feeling anxious or nervous like the previous times. She couldn't give a rat's ass anymore. She already touched herself, she gave you money for every little thing you did on stream, so why even bother? It felt good. Fuck, it felt so good and she didn't even knew why she deprived herself from that for so long. So, without thinking about it, she added a second finger inside of her, hoping it would fulfill her needs just as you would.

"Maybe next time, I get to cum in you." You were bold for saying that. But in your head, after your guys' private stream, you were both gonna fall madly in love and have a relationship that seemed right out of a movie screen. The last thing you would think about is the fact that the girl you've been thinking about for fhe past few days is, in fact, one of the actresses of a movie you're helping to produce. And one of the world's most famous and extraordinary actresses, actually. "And we both know how much you would enjoy that."

At that point, Jenna was the only one there, for all you cared. I mean, you had almost 2k people who watched you every single day, but sometimes it felt like you and her were the only ones existing in the world. I mean, your chat didn't seemed to mind, most of them were just voyeurs who got off by watching random people online, so what's the harm?

Unbeknownst to Jenna, you were already close to your orgasm. The tightness of the toy and all of the dirty talking you both have been sharing, it was getting pretty hard to hold it in any longer. So, without further notice, you decided to violently thrust your throbbing member inside of that silicone pussy, wanting to get to your high as quickly as possible. You slapped the toy's ass a couple of times, but you knew that if that was a real person (Jenna, you wanted it to be Jenna), you would be saying the most filthy things on her ear while slapping her ass until it became bruised. It killed you not being able to do that. And it killed Jenna too.

jenna2709: fuck, you look so beautiful like this.

And she wasn't any different either. Her hand was soaked by now and the two fingers weren't even close to being enough for her, but for now, they would have to do. With her spare hand, Jenna cupped one of her breasts in order to get closer and closer to her high, while her hand just aggressively thrusted inside of her tight hole. "F-Fuck, I'm almost..."

And you were almost there too, but this time, you wanted to make sure to give Jenna the best experience she could ever get. "Tell me, where do want me to cum?" You asked the whole chat, but in a way, you only wanted to hear Jenna's answer. The chat filled itself with loads of messages, some people wanting for you to come inside, other wanting for you to cum on your stomach.

jenna2709: inside of my pussy, please.

"Your wish is my command." And so you did, you came right into that toy's cunt with a loud and dragged moan, closing your eyes and thinking about how it would feel if you actually came inside of Jenna. You felt your hips spasm into the toy, while you rode out your high and tried your best not to moan any louder than you already did. Little did you know that, down the hallway, Jenna was also having her orgasm just by looking at you. She closed her eyes and thursted the hardest she could until she finally came, with a soft whimper of your name, feeling her juices oozing out of her cunt. She felt one or two tears stream down her face from that overwhelming feeling, riding out her high while looking at you, wishing you were there beside her. You pulled your cock out of that toy, your thick cum dripping down to the floor which made Jenna's mouth water again. She would commit crimes just to be able to lick your cum out of that toy.

And now, Jenna felt embarrassed again. Tomorrow at work, she would have to look at your face and act normally all over again, trying to hide the fact that you were the reason she had a mind blowing orgasm and cried while moaning your name. And also, she would have to think of a way to dodge your private stream, or face her fears and reveal her identity, risking to ruin your work environment for all of the next months that you guys would work together. Either way, she didn't wanted to do any of those two things.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $1000 with the message: consider this as a thank you.

M A S T E R L I S T

Sam Carpenter

Off the deep end Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jealousy

First time mom Sam headcanons

Sam with taller Reader

Sam with Prescott!Reader

NSFW drabble

NSFW drabble 2

Tara Carpenter

🎥 girl Part 2 Headcanons

Angel

Infidelity drabble

Dookie the Matchmaker drabble

Pillow princess Tara headcanons

Amber Freeman

Infidelity drabble

Avengers

Owned Part 2 Part 3

N.R. x W.M. x C.D. x f!reader

Perks of the job Part 2

WandaNat

Professional help

Natasha Romanoff

Patience is a virtue

A friend in need is a friend indeed

Heaven in hiding

Wanda Maximoff

Let the world burn

Used

Wednesday Addams

Wisdom teeth

Little death

Jenna Ortega

Just to be clear

Scarlett Johansson

All the things she said

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐄 | tara carpenter & fem!detective!reader

tags. no major warnings, implied sex, this take place after scream vi events. words. 3.049

a/n. this isn't the g!p reader i was talking about, but it has a little "spoiler" for it in the middle of all this, good luck! this one is for you, @wesstars 🫶

“Think you can warm me up?”

The low request came almost unnoticed by you, making you take a step back and look carefully at the ball of blankets on the couch.

Hidden there, under a couple layers of cozy blankets, a small Tara appeared with a red nose.

You smiled softly at the adorable view in front of you.

“I can’t, babe, I have some reports to look at, and it’s getting late.”

She pouted, looking at you with doe eyes that never failed, wide, soft with shining little stars dancing in the brown as she looks at you.

“Please? Just until I fall asleep.”

How could you say no to that?

You fold in the same second, forgetting that you have long pile of files to look at, carefully placing your mug filled with hot coffee on the side table, you took off your slippers and slid under the thick fabric, opening your arms towards the younger one.

Like she always does, Tara threw her legs over yours and hugged your torso, resting her head on your shoulder.

“You know…” you started, pulling her closer to you. “You wouldn’t feel cold if you wore more than just underwear and a tank top.”

“I don’t need to wear clothes; I have you to keep me warm,” Tara said back, looking at you with soft, sleepy eyes.

You smiled fondly, caressing her thigh with your hand. Leaning forward, you placed a kiss on her forehead, admiring the way the corner of her lips slightly tugged up, eyes closed and tip of nose red, the freckles spread on her face like stars in the dark night; Tara was a work of art.

“I love you so much, did you know that?” You whispered close to her lips.

She wrinkled her nose, “I know, but I don’t mind hearing you saying again, and again…”

Stopping her rambling, you pressed your lips on hers, sighing with such familiar taste of cherry of her lip balm. Tara was all soft, and when she was like this, calm and patient under your touch, it made your heart race.

When you first met her, during a rainy night at the police station, the girl could barely sustain your eyes, always avoiding them and fixating on somewhere or something else, like on her older sister, Sam. She came in because some idiots from a frat house were harassing her and her sister following the events from last year. You didn’t know much about the Carpenter’s sister, it was only your first month as a detective in New York, only heard rumors and whispers about it.

You ignored the others eyes on her, taking off your jacket to cover the small body that was trembling, being closely watched by the older Carpenter. Carefully, you placed the brown leather jacket around her shoulders, taking a couple steps back once you did, giving her a safe space.

Tara went home with your jacket that night, and when she brought it back, leaving it at the front desk, 5 days later, a small note was inside the pocket, written in a delicate handwriting, a small “thank you :)”. You smiled, keeping the note inside and going back to work.

The precinct was a place filled with gossips, theories and lies made up to creep you out. Your colleagues — if you could call them that — weren’t the most delightful people to be around, as most of them were men, you felt misplaced, an outcast, even thought you were on a higher level than them, mere police officers with a giant ego. Respect was a word that, apparently, wasn’t taught to them during life. You could count on your fingers the ones that were truly a nice officer and decent human being.

As the days went by, more talking took over the place, annoying ones that always got your rolling your eyes and ignoring them, the Carpenter sister’s being the subject of it 90% of the time, it’s like the big apple only had two young girls living in it and they were the reason to all the chaos that perpetuate in New York.

One day, late at night, you were finishing some reports to call it a day when a familiar voice caught your attention, the short blonde hair and leather jacket automatically bringing a smile on your face. You closed your computer and stood up, grabbing the brown leather jacket from the chair’s back and tossed over your shoulder.

“You’re too loud, did you know that, agent Reed?”

The woman turned around the same second your known perfume filled the room, a big smile tugging on her lips. She waited for you to get closer, annoyingly punching your arm as a form to say ‘hi’. Standing in front of her, the younger Carpenter was awkwardly looking at you, curiosity in her eyes as she watched you and your old friend interact.

You didn’t notice, but Tara was carefully watching you, the way your eyes light up whenever Kirby said something that happened while you were away from each other, crazy stories like the one where she almost got killed, again, a couple months ago. Funny ones, like when a common friend of yours got scared during a mission and yelled like a little girl because of a cat hidden inside a locker, causing you to throw your head back as you deliciously laughed. She smiled too, tilting her head to admire the way your nose scrunched or how your lips moved when you talked, or how your browns furred when Reed told what happened last year during Halloween, only then your eyes met Tara’s for more than a few seconds, a pinkish color painting her cheeks.

You didn’t know much about it, choosing to ignore the comments as you never knew what was a fact or what was a lie purposefully made up to destroy the sister’s images. All you were aware off, was that the masked killer that terrorized your colleague, and friend’s, life years ago in Woodsborro came back and worked at the precinct.

Kirby wasn’t the type of person that spoke about her fears and the horrors that haunted her over the years, all you knew was what she chose to share and the reason to why she decided to become a detective. You didn’t push her to talk, patiently waited for her to open up to you by choice because she trusted you. It took a long time for the moment to come, but one day, the alcohol in her made her talk and boy… she really had a lot to share, and it was very graphic — you swore you could feel the knife twisting inside you.

And now, with your eyes connected to Tara’s, a girl that seemed so sweet and kind, had gone through the same traumatic event as Reed did and, knowing her the way you did, you could only image the scars that hung onto the young Carpenter’s body and soul. You smiled at her, reaching your hand to hers.

“It’s nice seeing you again, miss Carpenter.”

Her hand was soft, warm and delicate against yours.

“You too, detective.” She smiled, hand still on yours. “I didn’t know you and Kirby knew each other.”

“Well, when I joined the force,” you started, forcing yourself to break the contact. “Reed was the first one to reach out to me and invite me for some beer after out shift.”

“She’s a very quiet girl, but it’s a great listener.” Kirby said with her costumery side smiled. “If you ever need someone to talk to, Tara, she’s the one you can go to.”

You looked at Kirby with pursed lips, head tilting in a silent ‘what the fuck are you doing?’

Tara let out a small laugh, “It’s good to know that, Kirby. If you trust her, then I do too.”

“Well, I don’t believe in that,” you said, licking your lips as you gave your attention to the girl. “I rather earn your trust than Kirby just giving it away. Trust is a very precious and intimate thing, Tara, you should only trust someone you know.”

“In that case, we should get to know each other better.” She smiled. “Don’t you think, detective?”

“I think that’s a great idea, miss Carpenter.”

That night was the first time you went out with Tara; Kirby tagged along in the first two hours but went home after a few rounds of beer, the alcohol getting to her way easier than you remembered. Helping her into the cab, you made sure to share her live location with you before sending her home, an old habit you had acquired after the truth about her life in Woodsboro.  

“You know…” Tara started, her index finger messily playing with the sweaty, half empty, beer glass in front of her. “It’s sweet what you did there.”

“What do you mean?”

You have always been strong when it came to alcohol, maybe it was due to your position as a detective or you had a really good regenerating immune system — even a common cold couldn’t get to you.

Tara, apparently, wasn’t like you. She was leaning against the table, playing with the glass cup like a little kid that was sleepy but refused to close her eyes and drift away in slumber. You carefully watched her, afraid that she would eventually fall off the chair.

“The location, I saw you sending her live location to your number.”

You shrugged, taking a sip of your beer. “It’s nothing, really. I just want to make sure she gets home safe.”

“Still,” her hand reached yours on the table, thumb softly brushing your skin. “it’s sweet. You’re sweet.”

“And you’re drunk.” You laughed awkwardly, finishing your beer in one long sip, still allowing her to touch you. “Come on, let’s get you on a cab.”

Her hand grabbed yours when you threatened to stand up, ready to pay the bill. “No, please. I want to get to know you better.”

“We can do that some other time, miss Carpenter.”

“Promise?”

You didn’t like promises, it carried an obligation that you didn’t like, but you just couldn’t get yourself to say no when her big, sparkling eyes stared at your soul.

You sighed with a small smile, “I promise.”

When you were paying the bill, Tara was standing close to you, holding onto your arm as if you were going to run away from her. It was cute, you had to admit as you looked at her while the cashier waited for your card to approve the payment, the different height between you two very noticeable when her head barely reached the top of your shoulder.

Before you could put her inside the cab with her apartment address on it, you made sure to save her phone number and share her location with you, just like you did with Reed over the years.

“Text me when you get home?” Tara asked through the open window when you closed the door for her.

“I will.” You smiled, turning to the old driver. “Take her home safely, please?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You stood there for a few seconds, watching as the yellow car drove away, Tara’s happy face outside the window waving at you. You waved back, heart warm at how adorable she was.

When you got home that night, you weren’t exhausted even after the busy day and all the beer you had, you felt alive and giddy as you texted the newly-added number, telling her you were safe and sound at the comfort of your home. The reply came in the same second, telling you that she was in bed already with a kiss blowing emoji next to it.

Now, a year after that first night out with Tara, you had the young girl sleeping safely in your arms, the morning sun breaking the thick, rainy clouds and invading the apartment, waking you up. Tara was hidden in the hollow of your neck, her calm and heavy breathing tickling your skin, still sleeping soundly.

You looked around the scene, still half asleep. Your coffee mug, now cold, still on the side table. The birds were chirping for the first time in a while since the winter arrived in New York. Some blankets had fallen to the floor, leaving only one covering your bodies. It was true, Tara only needed you to keep her warm.

Feeling your eyes on her, she stirs in her sleep and you’re fast to tighten your arms around her, but after all the incidents that happened around her in the past years, she was a light sleeper.

“You’re suffocating me.” She giggles, hand resting on your neck.

“I should suffocate you after you made me skip work last night.”

“Did I? I don’t remember putting a gun to your head and making you cuddle me.”

Your eyes widened, pulling back just enough to find hers.

“You did worse! You looked at me with Bambi eyes and you know I cannot say no to that.”

She laughs, “You’re very weak for a detective.”

Rolling your eyes, you ignored the fake teasing, caressing the scar on the right side of her belly.

“I’m only weak when it comes to you. You’re my only weakness, Tara.”

Her expressions softened, eyes analyzing your face. She knew you weren’t lying, just like she knew you would do anything to protect her, other than the four core, you were the only one that took her walls down.

“Well, then I guess I’ll have to use this against you so I can have you all to myself.”

“You’ll always have me all to yourself.”

“I know,” she shrugged. “but sometimes work steals you from me.”

You smile, “I have to keep my girlfriend safe, don’t I?”

“I guess you do, but today,” the tip of her fingers slid under the collar of your sweater, noticing the lack of bra; she wet her lips. “I have you all to myself, and I am not letting you go.”

“I certainly don’t want you to.”

Tugging you by the collar, she climbed on top of you, the blanket falling to the floor with the sudden motion.

For the first time you could fully see her as she sat on your hip; black panties and an equally black tank top, slightly wrapped around her thin waist, the tip of her scar visible, messy hair cascading down her shoulders.

Biting your lower lip as your eyes followed her curves, hands on her thigh following to her hip, then her waist in a strong squeeze. When she leaned down, lips oh so close to yours, you jumped when a low clearing of the throat coming from the kitchen filled the room; your instinct quick to pull a blanket from the floor to cover Tara’s body and pull her against you.

Standing in the corner of the brick wall, Sam was avoiding looking in your direction until her sister was fully covered, arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Please, tell me you two weren’t going to have sex on my couch, again.”

Tara hid a laugh against your neck, unlike you — who felt heat rising from your toes all the way up to your face, cheeks burning with Sam’s disgusted look. This wasn’t the first time the older Carpenter walked on the two of you, but it was funny that this happened twice on the same week, at least this time you both were fully covered…

You opened your mouth in an attempt to say something, an apology, or maybe try to convince her that this was not what was happening at all, but all that came out was a struggled sound that caused Tara to laugh muffled against you.

Sam took a deep breath, reaching out for her keys that were settled next to your mug. She adjusted the black beanie as she walked to the door, unlocking the 4 sets of locks and turning to you with a tired expression, “If you two are still on my couch when I come back, we’re gonna have a whole different conversation. Got it?”

You nodded fast.

“Good.”

And left.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding when you heard the jingling of keys on the other side of the door and distant steps going down the stairs.

Removing the blanket from her head, Tara looked at the closed door before staring at you, a loud and delicious laugh breaking the almost palpable tension that was left in the room.

“How can you laugh like this when your sister walked on us like this, again?” You were in disbelief, heart beating in your throat.

“If you could see your face, you’d laugh too,” she whipped the corner of her eyes, pressing a fast kiss on your lips. “I might be your only weakness, but Sam is your only fear.”

You huffed, agreeing with your girlfriend.

“I’ve seen what she’s capable of, I am not risking having my hands cut off, I’d miss them a lot!”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” she leaned in, hands on the side of your head, a hard grip on the cushions you laid your head on. Tara brushed her lips on yours, a fainted smell of cherries filling your lungs. "I would miss them too... more than you could ever imagine.”

Before you could close the small gap between your lips, the jingling of keys got you sitting up, arms firmly wrapped around the youngest waist, walking to bedroom at the end of the hallway, a giggly Tara clinging to your body for her dear life; you kicked the door close and leaned against it, breath caught up to your throat as you faced Tara with pursed lips.

Sam had her eyes closed when the door swung open, one hand on the door knob and the other covering her face. She had forgotten her cellphone. When she was met with silence, her index finger moved up a little, enough for her to peek at the scene.

The living room was a mess, blankets all over the floor, your slippers and Tara’s lost in between, a couple cushions in the middle as well, but what made her take a deep breath to keep from freaking out was the overturned mug on the side table, iced coffee dripping on the wooden floor.

BOTTOMS (2023) scr. Emma Seligman, Rachel Sennott

intertwined | wednesday addams

tags: no major warnings, no pronouns used, kissing, teasing, reader and wednesday are good... friends?

words: 1.493.

a/n: there was an attempt on writing a fight scene and humor, sorry... once again, thanks to @wesstars for all the tips and helps. ily

“You’re so sexy when you’re hot and bothered.” You play around, watching the small girl stand up with gritting teeth.

“And you are really annoying, do you mind shutting up?”

You humorously laugh, raising your hands in defeat and going back to your position.

Slightly bending your knees and motioning your hands in front of your face for protection, you waited for her attack. Wednesday took a step closer, eyes analyzing your body language, her brain working to find the next move you’d make to, again, get her and immobilize her, but you were on neutral.

Wednesday grew up an Addams, and that meant knowing a little bit of everything, martial arts were no exception, something that Wednesday was an enthusiast of; so when she suggested you two to take a few rounds to train in the empty fencing room, she didn’t expect you’d also be really good at it.

After a couple of hours, she was disheveled, her fringe sticking to her forehead, the perfectly braided hair almost all loosen, sticking to her sweating neck. You smiled provocatively, hands motioning for her to come for you, but she waited.

She wanted you to take the first step this time.

You were not stupid; you could see the intentions behind her dark, narrowed eyes. How she was positioning on the black tatami, her hands ready to push your punch away, legs slightly apart to hook on yours and take you to the ground. A classic Brazilian capoeira movement, one you’ve been using for the past hours, annoying her.

Her eyes brown furrowed, clenching fists ready to throw the first punch if you weren’t going to do it. But when your right hand came towards her in a hook, she dodges it, paying attention to where your left hand was, now coming from beneath, ready to hit her jaw. In a swift movement, she slid back, knees buckling to adapt the new position.

Wednesday saw the perfect opportunity to punch your thigh, earning a painful huff from your lips. Your knee almost gave way, but you were quick to change weigh to your right leg, taking a step back.

“Keep doing that, love, it’ll work eventually.” You hummed, recharging your arms as they were starting to hurt after hours of practicing.

“Thought I had told you to shut up. If I wanted to talk, I would have invited you to Enid’s Allan Poe book club.”

“Ouch,” you place your hand on your chest, right above you beating heart. “that almost hurtled me, like your weak punch.” You provoked, seeing how far this would go until she started to actually hurt you.

Wednesday tensed up her jaw, the sharp jawline showing how annoyed she was at the childish behavior of yours. You tilted your head, licking your lips as you noticed a single drop of sweat going down her temple, then her neck and disappear in the vale of her breasts, the black training outfit hugging her curves just easily distracting you.

It was the perfect moment for her small fist to collide with your left ribs, it would surely leave a mark. Your body jerked down in instinct, hands protecting the sides of your face ready to defend from her attacks, but when she slid her right leg in between yours and hooked the left one on your hips, you knew you were going down.

Your opponent pushed her left leg down, easily throwing you to the floor. The small body then climbed on top of yours, knees clenching on each side of your body as you kept on protecting your face, hands up ready to defend, but, surprisingly to you, Wednesday took your wrists and pinned them above your head, leaning closer.

“If you try that move one more time, I will chop your leg off and give it to Thing as a Christmas gift to build a body. Is that clear?”

Her hot breath hit you in the face, smell of her fainted perfume filling your lungs.

“I doubt you’d that,” you shrugged, adjusting your hips under her. “plus, I think Thing is content with the way he is now.”

“I am starting to think you have a death wish.”

You smiled, noticing the way her breath hitched when you moved again, thighs pressing on your sides.

“It would be an honor to be killed by you, my sweet Addams.”

Wednesdays rolled her eyes, nails digging in your wrists as she leaned in closer, some strains of her black hair brushing against your neck.

“I shall not be merciful.”

“I like the pain.” You arched your back, making her lean back, hands still firm on your wrists. “Are we about to kiss right now?”

She took a deep breath, deciding on either letting you go or staying in this position for a few more seconds. It was comfortable, and Wednesday didn’t feel that from people around her; it was given the fact that growing up together and exchanging a couple words during families gathering caused that, comfort and trust.

Even though she enjoyed your company at times, you were a little menace and Wednesday learned how to tolerate your jokes and playful words over the years, but now that you were both adults, those words started affecting her and they remained on her mind far more than she would like.

Were you joking when you said she was your favorite Addams?

Or that you would help her to dig a hole and bury a body? You even specified that it didn’t matter if it was a dead or alive body.

You understood her.

It starting messing with her head. And now this, this position that she encountered herself in, feeling something in the way your noses were almost touching and the way you adjust yourself under her. She was trapped in her own thoughts to notice the weaking grip on your writs, allowing yourself to switch positions, carefully landing her on the soft, black tatami, locking her wrists just above her head like she did to you.

“I really, really want to kiss you right now.” Your voice failed you, if you weren't so close to her, she wouldn’t have listen.

“What’s stopping you?”

Her dark eyes were flaked with gold, no regret in them but... curiosity? Anticipation? You’d only see that glow in very specific occasions.

For a second, it was like the world around you stopped spinning, your ears not believing those words that slipped past her lips.

“Are you sure?”

“If you don’t kiss me this instant, I will regret allowing you to hold me like this.”

“Aren’t you afraid to fall in love with me?” You whispered amusingly, brushing your lips against hers.

“Love is overestimated, the idea of loving someone does not cross my mind and I will not–“

Shutting her up from a long monologue that was coming, you closed the gap between your two, sighing against her.  

It was a soft kiss at first, a mere press of lips, but it was enough to get your heart racing.

When you pulled back, curious to see the reaction on her face; her eyes closed, the freckles covered in a pinkish tone and parted lips. You smiled, kissing her once again, the butterflies in your stomach flying around, causing a warmth in your chest.

Unlike you always imagined kissing her would be, Wednesday allowed you to take control at first, opening her lips when she felt your tongue brushing on her lower lip.

The moment you slid your tongue on hers had her buzzing, heart beating erratically in her chest, it was like she could feel every drop of blood rushing trough her veins.

Even tough it was the first time you actually kissed, it felt familiar, as if the both of you have been missed each other for a long time, it was tender and a little bit hesitant, but patient and it felt almost impossible to stop. The

When you parted your lips, a strangled and shameful moan scape your throat when Wednesday captures your lower lip in between her teeth, sucking it softly.

At a certain moment that you couldn’t remember, your grip on her wrists eassened and moved to her fingers, intertwining them with yours, thumbs brushing her cold skin.

“You’re a good kisser, Addams.”

“Thank you. Now get off of me.”

“Why? You want to be on top?”

“I despise you.”

Rolling your eyes with a playful smile tugging the corner of your lips, you stood up. “You despise me because I’m hot, I’ve never done anything to you.”

Secretly, deep down her stone-cold heart, she didn’t. But Wednesday wouldn’t be stupid enough to actually tell you that, you were already an annoying person, and she wasn’t ready to deal with the taunts that would come with that. But when you turned around and started packing your stuff to leave, you missed the smile that insisted on not leaving her lips.

La Parca | Adult!Wednesday x Reader (Couple of Cards AU)

It was kill or be killed. The role of God now laid in your mortal hands, its burden weighing your shoulders down and leaving a permanent print on you that Wednesday did not expect you to gain.

Summary: Reader has taken a life for the first time, by her own hands. Wednesday unexpectedly has to deal with this grief that plagues her partner. Warnings: Non-smut. Hurt/Comfort?? besides that nothing i think. Words: 2.2k AU Concept: Reader and Wednesday are a duo of detectives (More of that here) ⓘ This is a work of fiction and belongs to my on-going AU.

A life dripped from your hands.

Dirty, muddy blood soaked your palm with the weight of despair on it. You could feel it seep through your skin and stain your bones a vibrant red of shame. The smell of it reeked of putrid death that you were never fully used to, no matter how many gruesome cases you took with Wednesday but those cases were different. The dead, decomposed bodies you saw were nothing compared to what you did this hellish night. They were dead by someone else’s hand, the harrowing experience of taking a life not a burden on your shoulders but theirs. 

The dimly lit room had shadows and darkness dense with murmuring accusations, your heart thumping madly in exclamation for what you were witnessing. You were alone, alone with a body, yet you could feel the imaginary wrath of a village descend upon you. The pale moon, ever gorgeous, bathed you and your hands in silver, but could not tamper with the vibrant red glow of blood. The cacophony of whispers and murmurs drilled your ears with a shrill sound that only exponentially grew louder, until it abruptly stopped.

Reality had dawned on you, that moment of lunacy slipped past your fingers. You had taken a life. You took a life in exchange for your partners, for the innocent citizens frightened by the darkness of the night, but it was a life nonetheless. 

A bodyless limb, stitched up yet soft to the touch, crawled from your back and stationed on your shoulder. Observing (somehow) that you were frozen completely, watching the blood pool around the serial killer that made the town tremble with fear. His blood gleamed with the way the moon lit it, you could see it drip over the tiny cracks of the wooden floor, you could hear it drip down below whatever was under the floorboard. Thing tapped your shoulder, but you could not move. It was not the wounds the killer had inflicted upon you, but the shock.

Blood gushed down your arm by the slash wound on your forearm, a direct result from the conflict, and your thigh numbed away at the makeshift tourniquet stopping the flow of your stab wound. A limp wouldn’t stop you from walking out and calling your partner to alert her of what had just happened, and it never deterred you from venturing down the basements and up the attics of these maniacs – who usually held people hostage. 

But tonight, you were frozen in place like a zombie, willing to bleed away along with the man who you rightfully had to kill. Not in your right mind, at all.

Thing was crawled back down your back and did the smart thing he did. Texting Wednesday and sending her an SOS along with an address, and ringing the police.

The ramshackled cabin in the middle of nowhere was the hideout of the monster, and Wednesday was, unsurprisingly, first on the scene. Hurried steps soon slowed down to a full, inaudible stop when her dark eyes peered at the scene before her, watching you intently and wondering if… you were at all okay. 

She glanced over the dead body and thought, tactfully to herself, that she wished to be the one to have taken his life but she would be content by merely watching him bleed away pathetically like this. However, that sweet, juicy nectar of justice swiftly served had the bitter after taste of you, unable to understand the strange feeling that overwhelmed your body.

Words unspoken, feelings understood, Wednesday left you there to process it as she got to work with examining the rest of the cabin. In your field of vision, stationary and unmoving, black miasma threatened to overtake all until the red and blue lights flashed and shunned that wafting darkness away. Another dose of reality, your ears starting to hear the moving world around you again. Sharp, anxiety-inducing sirens blared from the distance and you…

You had just killed a man.

The gratitude of the public soothed you little and even worse, the headlines dedicated to you and your heroic service to the community did not make you feel like a hero. You felt conflicted, like you were never to be forgiven. A blur of shapes and jumbled words were all that you recalled from that moment Wednesday turned you around to tell you the cops were about to arrive at the scene.

“You need to pull yourself together,” Wednesday firmly said, her usual commandeering voice offering little help in your composure.

Then, it was a mixture of blankness and a painting too destroyed to make a concise deduction of. As if someone had grabbed a thick brush filled to the nth with white, watery paint and smeared it all over your memories.

But you do remember something. Wednesday had guided you in your stupor back out of the police station once the questioning was finished, ushering you into her car and taking you not to your home – as warm and comforting as it may have been. Instead, the car traversed through the beaten path towards her home. The sight of that mansion, usually so big and cold, felt strangely comforting, less macabre than it usually is.

Wednesday’s fondness for you went unseen when you laid in a coma, but now you were conscious and observing the way she took care of you in your stupor. Not with an ounce of malice or annoyance, but preoccupied for you. The crease in her eyebrows was a tell that you had never seen stay in her face for more than a second, but now it seemed to permanently stay painted in her features no matter how much she tried to undo it. She washed you, this time with your willingness, quietly and thoroughly. Was the smell of blood perhaps beginning to annoy her? You could not know.

With soft instructions to get dressed, you attempted to but found it difficult. Your injuries, now tended and protected, still sent tentacles of pain all across your body – a simple move igniting a concerning amount of pain that made you wonder if the stitches would pop back out. But you wished to struggle alone for a while, until Wednesday walked into the guest bedroom to observe you trying. Her hand placed on your sane arm stopped you from moving further. Those dark hues suddenly felt soft to look at, compassionate, but still firm in a strange way. Wednesday helped you get your clothes on carefully with no remarks or tease, comfortable to touch you and to see you in this state. One would think she would relish in your pain, even if just a smidge, but she did not.

The cherry oak wooden table stretched comically from one end to the other. A table that would be surely used to host a big bouquet of many dishes and even more guests. You had plopped down to eat something quietly, solemnly chewing away flavorful food that, to you, suddenly all tasted bitter. Wednesday quietly stalked into your field of vision, emerging from the dark corner of your eyes with a plate of her own and sharp silverware to match. She placed her plate down, pulled her chair and sat right next to you. Out of all the places to sit, out of all the things to do, she tacitly chooses to sit by you during your lunch time. The sound of birds chirping away the warm mid-day were the only things accompanying the sound of forks and knives scraping the fine ceramic plates. The occasional creak of the old cherry oak being the only exciting occurrence at that moment.

Words were seldom used between the two of you that early morning. The two of you co-existed orbiting around each other yet never addressing one another beyond glances. A look that told you that Wednesday would wash your dishes, countered by a look that insisted on at least helping her dry the plates. A look that told you that Wednesday was going to the library to read and write was countered by a mere nod and a saddened smile that wished her endeavors to turn out fun. 

The eerie quietness of it all stretched to every inch of the mansion, like tragedy had struck not just you, but Wednesday as well.

Now lying quietly and unmoving on that big bed, with Wednesday so grimly lying next to you in that distinctive position of hers, words started to pile up in your gut. Total pandemonium within you, demanding to be let out and spoken, to be set adrift in the cold air of the mansion. To appease that annoyance, you finally opened your mouth.

A hoarse voice that you didn’t expect talked on your behalf, like it was crusted by the stillness for such a long hour. Or perhaps it was your mental state manifesting in your body, transforming it and changing it. Just like you felt after that harrowing night.

“I don’t feel…” a pondering pause, hearing Wednesday shift on her side to look at you. “Normal.”

Wednesday stared at you with an unflinching stare for a moment. “You did the world a favor, he was a monster.”

A deep breath in, then a hesitant, frightened glance at her. Her expression of neutrality softened to one of care, once again.

“I took a life, Wednesday,” you were concise, feeling the burden of what happened slowly feel lighter as you said those words. Your cross all the more bearable to carry. “I didn’t enjoy that.”

Wednesday knew that you were a normie, but your strong will and resilience put you over many of the ‘normies’. And yet, she had contemplated that occasion where she would be met with a situation to make any normie squirm, something that would click in you that would – in her own words – pose to be a problem in your partnership. What she thought would happen was that one day you would cower away from her interrogation methods, that you would realize just how macabre she could get, or that maybe you would be forced to look at one too many dead bodies to stomach.

But you pulled through in all of those situations. Not without your disagreements and negotiations, but you got there with her and stuck through her.

Never in her life, not even with her gift, could she envision that this would be the thing to break you. Justice sometimes could be served by your own hands and in some occasions it is the only way to serve justice. A fight to the death, a fight for survival or maybe a wicked game of Russian Roulette where a psychopath would willingly take his own life only if it meant you would risk yours. This was your first time taking a life, your first time having to choose when someone died. Wednesday understood this predicament you were in, but could not word any comforting words. 

She, too, was grieving. Not because she did not have the chance to get rid of a serial killer with her own hands, but because you had to do it to save yourself and create this despair in yourself. Above all, she felt upset that you felt as bad as you did. There was an ounce of annoyance within herself at the revelation. After all, Wednesday was seldom protective of people, but you were her partner. You were the one who comforted her in those weak moments that she rarely had; you were the woman that gave her so much, someone that held strong for her and did not hold those feeble moments over her head mockingly ever. You were her woman.

Quid pro quo.

Wednesday did not know how to comfort you, but she would dare to try it. Shifting, she pulled her body closer to you and carefully grabbed your unharmed arm and moved it. It surprised you a bit, but she willingly snuggled up to you, head on your chest and draping your arm around her. It was something new, but very sweet that she would do it. And you knew why she was doing this, as well. A small smile tugged your lips, honest, even if it remained there for a short moment. Summoning all the strength you had in you, you hugged her, squeezing her to you and relishing in the comfort of closeness.

Words were accessories to the two of you. Sometimes needed to compliment each other, sometimes required to bring it all together smoothly. But at this point in your partnership, words sometimes could be left to hang loosely next to the coats. Tonight was a mixture of both.

You understood Wednesday’s attempt at comfort and welcomed it; Wednesday understood that taking a life was not easy for someone like you to do. Yet, you found solace in being able to freely speak of something that had bothered you so deeply.

“It changes everything,” you softly let out, knowing it was the only way you could explain it.

“Maybe for the best,” Wednesday quietly retorted.

That thought had not crossed your mind. It didn’t erase the grief, but it made it easier to digest. Sometimes, it was a sacrifice that needed to be made for something better. A sacrifice you were willing to make.

You held Wednesday tighter and allowed yourself to indulge in a soft kiss to her head. An affectionate gesture that meant so much. It was a ‘Thank you’, it was a ‘I understand’, and it was – above all else – something that words could not hope to measure.

Today was just today.

jenna ortega works

series

(The Party & The After Party (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist)

(Get Me (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist)

Shirt (Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader) Masterlist

oneshots

jenna ortega x reader “HOME” (18+)

jenna ortega x reader “TRUTH HURTS” TRUTH HURTS 2

jenna ortega x reader "FIRST PLACE"

jenna ortega x gp!reader “SHE”

WH0 R U 2???

Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.

Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)

A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u

part 1

Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.

Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.

As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.

Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.

"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.

"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.

You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.

"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.

Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."

"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."

You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.

"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.

"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.

"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.

The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"

"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"

Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.

"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"

You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."

Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."

You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."

Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."

"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.

You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.

Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.

When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.

But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.

Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."

Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.

"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.

Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.

Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?

Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles

Shit.

Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes

Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll

Tara: just tell sam im on the way

Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house

Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 

Tara: wtf? no?

Tara: ill ttyl

-

The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.

Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.

"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.

"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."

Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."

"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."

Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."

You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"

You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."

You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"

Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"

You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."

-

You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."

You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."

Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.

You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.

On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.

Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.

Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.

You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.

"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.

You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.

Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.

You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.

A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.

Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?

The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.

Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.

When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.

Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.

"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.

Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.

Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.

You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.

Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.

She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.

One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.

You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.

Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.

Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.

You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.

You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.

"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.

Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."

You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.

And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.

"Y/N! Shit!"

You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.

While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.

Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."

Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.

Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.

The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.

You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.

Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.

Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.

She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.

This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.

She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.

As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.

Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.

Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.

You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.

The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."

Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.

A Night of Eros (Adult!Wednesday x Fem!Reader)

A continuation of "The Master & The Pet", which you may read here.

Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?” Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. “Your leash.”

Summary: Several weeks have passed since you saw that little ‘Thank you’ note stuck on your bedroom door. Work began again as usual between you and Wednesday, but there was a new normal on the horizon when she confidently required your service again. Warnings: Adult!Wednesday, Power Bottom!Wednesday x Service Top!Reader, Strap-on sex, some Master/Pet dynamics, Dirty Talking, vague degradation? LONG, explicit smut. Words: 9k AU Concept: Reader and Wednesday are a duo of dectectives (More of that here) ⓘ This is a work of fiction and belongs to my on-going AU. If you try this at home, that is at your discretion.

The grandfather clock ticked away in Wednesday’s gothic dream of a library. Dark red walls that stretched to a big ceiling, filled with fine literature that you were certain Wednesday had read over at least once. The architecture of her mansion was a sight to behold, even if you’ve been seated in this very place over hundreds of times in the past. 

Never in this weather, however, with the rumbling roars of the distant thunder foreshadowing more of this already tempestuous storm to come; the howling winds that whistled away and the sound of raindrops muffled only by the strong walls and the crispy, old sound of one of Wednesday’s favorite record playing in the lobby, the sound reverbing and bouncing off to the large library. Accompanied then by the exquisite sounds of a live fireplace with crackling fire. A morbid romantic scene painted with the finest of brushes.

Once again, Wednesday was on top of you. What else was new with the two of you.

But this time, the energy in the air was different, charged with a different kind of tension that the two of you have grown accustomed to. The atmosphere was less frantic, experimental and unsure, leaning more towards secure, calculated and passionate.

Unattended notes and books laid in Wednesday’s desk, notes half written and deductions half deduced – standing idle, a mystery remained unsolved while Wednesday indulged into something she had avoided addressing for long enough. Across from her desk was your own little desk, on it laid an envelope filled with documents ready for you to examine them. 

A manila folder barely touched, for when you arrived at Wednesday’s mansion and reached the library, she had pushed aside her documents and walked over to you before you could even glance at them. 

But let us not get too ahead of ourselves. Let us start from the beginning.

Wednesday expected you, since she called you herself to talk about a new potential case, but at this dark hour and under this weather, Wednesday had been waiting for more time than she expected. Bad weather, bad traffic, the whole works, but when you finally appeared, her mind was no longer thinking about the case. Instead, her mind and eyes wandered at your figure as you walked into the library. 

Wet leather gloves in hand, drying the light sprinkles of rain away from your face, dressed in the usual red sweater with black trousers. The common look you often had, but something that Wednesday found herself fond of a little more than before, quietly observing with her proper and unmoving posture. Already eternally bored with a case she knew was open and shut, she decided to indulge in something else for the evening. Besides, it was already too late to go out and do anything fun besides theorizing. 

Instead of greeting you with any reprimand or anything, Wednesday stopped right in front of you, looking up at you with those sharp, round eyes. The void of her black eyes was glistening, with the reflection of the fireplace’s fire. You stopped when she stopped, in total silence before you spoke out.

“Everything okay, Wens?” Your voice was soft as if to avoid disturbing the atmosphere Wednesday had curated for her library, a hand reaching to pull and look at your sweater, seeing if it was damp anywhere.

“You are going to catch a cold,” she said directly, a furrowed brow of concern ever so present. “Did not know how unruly the weather was when I told Thing to text you.” There was a missing apology in there somewhere, but the concern for your well being was read in between the fine lines.

You laughed a little, placing the gloves on the desk and looking at the damp spot in your shirt. “I don’t mind, Wens,” you reassured her. “Anything for the thrill of a good mystery,” you smiled big.

“Unfortunately, I have looked into the case and it seems very standard,” Wednesday looked down at you briefly, already hinting at something that you could understand. She looked back up at you and continued speaking. “You can still look it over and tell me your opinion.”

You eyed the envelope in your desk, tempted to have a look and see why her assessment was such. It was not uncommon for you and Wednesday to look over a fresh case together and decide, unanimously, that this was a piece of cake. And therefore, a very boring case. Yet, you could always have a look and see if Wednesday missed something in the rare chance she may have judged too quickly.

But she interjected with a quick statement. “I recommend you dry that up before you get sick,” she breathed in, tugging at your sweater as her eyes scanned it. A subtle move that was rather simple from Wednesday, who often didn’t touch. “I do not want a sick partner to drag around, it’ll only slow me down.”

A conflictive statement that did not match her eyes or touch, but something quintessentially Wednesday that brought a soft smile out of you. You gave in, however, pulling away from her space and walking towards your desk.

“Did you not hear me–.”

“I heard you,” you said loosely, cutting Wednesday off and peering into her glare. A glare not too strong, so you gave her a small smile. The curiosity of the case had gripped you already, and it made you wonder why Wednesday thought this was open and shut, so you really did not care to dry up. 

The prospect of Wednesday constantly poke and prod about how you will get sick of pneumonia and die (as per her usual humor) was not as tantalizing as the mystery so you decided to reach a good middle ground. You took your sweater off, grabbing the manila folder and taking a look at it. You did not notice the quick expression of shock on Wednesday’s face. If you could call that shock at any capacity. It was more of a ‘nanosecond of wide-eyes’ before she drifted to her usual composure, her neutral face not betraying something brewing inside of her. Something that burned hotter than the fireplace. Suddenly, she pulled her tie to loosen it a bit, feeling a tad suffocated.

Your eyebrows were knitted in focus, walking over to the fireplace. “Missing persons case or murder?” You said, sitting down near it and sprawling your sweater on the floor for it to dry up alongside you. 

Wednesday breathed in deeply and began to walk over to where you were, arms crossed under her bust. “It’s no Black Dahlia, which I must admit has me heartbreakingly disappointed.”

You gave it a quick read, skimming through it. Missing persons for over five years, all the leads recorded were from directly after the case began, the works. You looked up from the sea of formal words to find Wednesday standing over your sweater with a head tilted. “Something the matter, Ms. Addams?” You questioned while you continued to read over, only half-paying attention to it.

“You could have simply laid here with your sweater on to dry up,” Wednesday sounded firm, as always having an air of superiority to her tone. “You did not need to be naked.”

“I’m not naked, for one,” you nearly mumbled out as you flipped over a paper. “Secondly, it’s not like you didn’t see me naked before.”

“I did not,” Wednesday piped up immediately and then silence befell upon the two of you.

A connected gaze that spoke a lot louder than what I could do here, but I dare to try anyways. It was a look of intensity, a mixture of curiosity, passion, almost indignation, but so devoid of malice that it was surprising. Only when you peeled your gaze away from those dark eyes did you notice that one of her fists was… clenched, like holding onto something imaginary for dear life. Wednesday had no tells when it came to lying, deceiving, playing Poker or anything, but she had a tell for that little ‘weakness’ of hers.

“When I was out for the count in the hospital, yeah you did,” you chuckled, closing the folder. “So, I don’t see why you’re uncomfortable.”

“Nevermind that,” Wednesday took a deep breath in and replied. “I am not uncomfortable, I just questioned your audacious choice to disrobe in front of me.”

Then you squinted, pointing at her with a smile. “Did you just… implicitly confess that you’ve seen me naked?” 

Silence, filled with suspense. A silence that Wednesday utilized for many occasions, but never to admit guilt. Yet, here she was.

You had a cheeky smirk on your face that you couldn’t erase, much to Wednesday’s chagrin. “So what was said is true, you bathed me while I was out?”

Perhaps what happened next was a bit abrupt and slightly unbecoming of someone like Wednesday, but it was not uncommon to you who knew her in the most peculiar of phases.

She took a long stride to where you were seated and, with her feet planted firmly on your shoulder, shoved you down to lay on the floor, back against that comfort rug. Rather than painful, that was kind of fun, it had you unexpectedly chuckling. That 5’0” menacing figure stood over you with furrowed brows and an impassive face as she began her questioning: “The nurse yapped, didn’t she?”

“I never said it was a nurse,” you raised an eyebrow. “You said that yourself.”

Now the two of you were at an impassé, and Wednesday knew not how to feel.

With a sigh, you decided to be honest now that you had a heeled boot pressing against you. Thank god she only used heels on very rare occasions, otherwise you truly wouldn’t be so chill. “I thought that was really nice. Taking care of your partner like that,” you paused for a moment, looking up to her eyes and seeing them soften a tad. “I liked that.”

“It was incredibly creepy and invasive,” Wednesday admitted and you couldn’t believe that there may have been a small ounce of guilt over that as it slipped her lips. Very unlike the terrifying Wednesday, but you understood why.

“Yeah, I think that’s what I like about it,” you finished. But the thought in your head added ‘Only because it’s you’ for you truly would never trust anyone else to help you. Seeing the vague guilt knitted in her eyebrows dissipate in a pleasant surprise, you added something else, however. “I think you liked it, too.”

And unlike last time many weeks ago, Wednesday couldn’t hide her blushing cheeks and that evil smirk of hers behind the curtain of darkness. That must have ringed some semblance of truth, for it deterred Wednesday from digging her boot deeper into your skin. But she did swiftly move to straddle your hips, leaning down with her hands on either side of your head. Eyes connected, words unspoken for that brief moment she drew closer. The atmosphere had changed instantly. 

“I did like it, I enjoyed watching your helpless naked body,” Wednesday growled.

And under any normal circumstances, you would be creeped out, but now you were just turned on. Most importantly, you noted that sudden confidence in Wednesday, a contrast to that one night that seemed so far in the past now. “Oh yeah? I bet you couldn’t stop looking at me.”

“I was so afraid,” she huskily said, leaning in closer. Nose to nose, her hot breath tickling just right. “That you would slip away from me before I could play with you, my little pet.”

Out of pure curiosity, you questioned. “Is that why you took the time to bathe me?”

Wednesday’s eyes bore into yours, but quickly traveled down to your lips, as if she yearned for them. Her response came later. “I trusted no one to touch you. I took matters into my own hands.”

Now you didn’t know if it was merely dirty talking, a playful possessiveness, or if it was the truth she harbored deep within. Maybe it was all of the above, with one having less chances of happening than the other. Regardless, it was tense.

Tension, tension, tension; so palpable and warm that you no longer felt the effects of the cold wind from the weather in your bones. Wednesday has gotten quite good at this dirty talking thing, so morbid yet enticing to you. Your hands instinctively reached to caress her thighs, but she grabbed them both and pinned them down above your head. 

“You don’t get to touch your Master,” she growled almost, leaning in and stopping short with your lips and hers only inches away from one another. “Not until I say so.”

You could almost lean in, tempted so much to touch her lips and feel that comfort. But you kept that desire to yourself, compliant like a good pet. “Yes, master,” you lowly said. 

Now, Wednesday had no idea how to subtly express her desire for more. At least not yet anyways. Unable to even insinuate it through dirty talk, her creativity limited only to murder and grotesque scenes in her ‘usual’ state. So she just decided to say it matter-of-factly like she tended to do. “I will experiment with you, my pet,” straight to the point, yet she was never exactly naming the act itself – neither by its more clinical and boring name, nor the more audacious and salacious one. Hiding her lack of experience and confidence well, she proceeded. “We explored some of what I liked, yet master hardly indulged further,” her hands left your wrists, reaching to start undoing her tie. “I would like to do that tonight, before you think of reading over that boring case. Understood?”

You licked your lips, fighting the urge to touch her. “You’ve been working on your dirty talk, that’s good,” and just as you finished that sentence, Wednesday wrapped her tie around your neck and started to tie it with dexterous fingers. The smooth silkiness, the pitch black design bore a striking resemblance to something else and it aroused you to even think of it. Cheekily, you questioned: “A gift for me?”

Then she tightened it with one clean move and pulled it, drawing your head closer to her. A fervid kiss shared between two pent-up partners, a delighted whimper coming out of you and a satisfied moan drawing out of Wednesday, when she pulled away her voice was firm in correcting you. “Your leash.”

In between the lines, you read what she intended to say: Be a good puppy tonight.

You chuckled though, hands still restraining themselves to avoid touching Wednesday. “You’ve come prepared, I wonder what else you got on your sleeves.”

“Toys,” Wednesday admitted immediately.

And that took you back for a moment. “W-what?”

You almost couldn’t believe what she was saying, but you soon realized she was not joking.

Smash cut to the flabbergasting scene. You and Wednesday standing over her desk, a large wooden box of old laying there open with a small, orderly variety of toys. What jumped to your view, of course, was the strap and that skin-colored dildo. It… matched Wednesday’s skin tone, and the mere thought of her with it on made you bite your lower lip. But you pulled back, not getting too ahead of yourself. “I thought you weren’t into this kind of stuff,” you mumbled out after.

“I wanted to ravage my pet a little more efficiently,” she said, giving it to you straight. But when she looked at you, there was an ounce of yearn and a dash of preoccupation, wondering if that might be okay with you.

Curiosity was piqued, given that she had said that she wanted to indulge more in her pleasure than yours. So, you asked quietly. “You want to use it on me?”

Wednesday hesitated, turning her body to face yours. “Eventually. I would like you to use it on me for now,” a pause. “I’ve seen the way you can move your hips.”

Flabbergasted, you almost jumped out of your ‘pet’ character at this revelation. You should’ve known, all things considered, but her boldness was the thing that caught you off guard just a tad. Well that, and the confession that she had observed you previously. “W-when?”

“During that case we had at the club, when you were distracting the suspect by asking them out on a dance,” Wednesday’s blush became a little more apparent, especially this close. “That was impressive and I would like to see it up close.”

There was more she wanted to say, but you didn’t push her to say it. You, instead, got on your knees and looked up at her. With the change in height, Wednesday already could feel herself growing into her role of your Master. She grabbed your tie almost instinctively, like something had compelled her to do so. Now more aware of what she wanted and eager to comply, you said: “I am entirely at your disposal, Master.”

“Good,” a brief pause full of tension. “Get the lube, put the strap on,” then Wednesday smirked. “And put your sweater on.”

Huh?

Wednesday Addams was an odd woman, who simultaneously knew not what to make of sex, yet knew what she wanted from it. Most importantly, she knew what she wanted to do with you, at least this time around. The doubt that you once saw that night at home was almost entirely gone, replaced by innate curiosity and willingness to explore beyond her prejudices. Everyday, you learned more of her and this was no different. She had ordered you to get up, put on your red sweater and you didn’t know why. For a moment, you thought she was going to tell you to disrobe for her but in a switch of things she told you to dress up.

The reality was that it was something psychological, something subtle that aroused Wednesday. 

You came to understand it as you were pulling her socks off, the two of you now seated in the rug a safe distance away from the consuming flames of the fireplace. Wednesday was seated and leaned back, relishing in the look of you fully dressed while she was already down to just her underwear. Almost entirely bare for you.

“My sweet little pet, don’t you wish you were naked with me?” Wednesday said, watching you, her little pet, pull her other sock. 

You played along, curious. “Don’t you, Master?”

Wednesday’s smirk was devilish. “I much prefer to witness you this way. Clothed, desperate, serving me and only me. While I lay bare, exhibiting myself to you as I please.”

Like you are not allowed to be naked, to be disrobed without her permission. She is in total control of you, and even if the clothes restrained you little, Wednesday took pleasure in that idea alone. A master in control of the subtle things, pulling at your strings to get what she wanted. In addition, Wednesday probably enjoyed the feeling of being exposed to you like this, feeling like she was… doing something so wild, something depraved and out of character for her. That still-audacious choice of underwear spoke to you, perhaps louder than last time. Black lace matching set, more enticing than macabre and a new side to Wednesday. It was not the same she wore before, which brought even more questions. You didn’t mind at all, leaning down to gently kiss her feet, an affectionate gesture in the midst of so much depravity. A gesture of devotion to your partner in crime.

“Good pet,” Wednesday praised you, with much more fondness in her tone than she intended. 

Pulling you by your leash – er, tie – Wednesday hungrily captured your lips on her own in a fervent kiss. Consuming all remaining bits of reason and deterrence, welcoming in ‘immorality’ and wickedness in its place. You noticed it in the way Wednesday kissed you now, letting every ounce of passion come through in the rather frantic way she devoured you. Confidence, that was the change. She bit your lower lip and tugged with a mischievous smirk, looking at you with those lustful half lidded eyes and tacitly encouraged you to do your magic, like a good pet. Once she let go of your lip, you took the lead and kissed her hungrily again, this time letting your tongue drag across her own. Your hands, like with a mind of their own, expertly undid her bra amidst the kiss and immediately reached down to help her slip off of the rest of her underwear. Breaking the kiss, Wednesday almost groaned at the loss of contact but finished undressing just as eagerly to welcome something far better. 

Curiosity was plaguing you as you folded her underwear neatly and placed it alongside Wednesday’s clothing items (a peculiar habit, but nevermind that). That curiosity came to a head once you started to smear lubricant all across that silicone shaft, feeling its details with your fingers. “Have you used this before, Master?” The question was genuine. 

Wednesday, already blushing and aroused, nodded without any shame. “I have. It was certainly an experience,” she admitted, sitting up to grab you by the cock and pull you in a little closer, neediness permeating her entire body language now. She stroked it slowly, despite knowing you technically didn’t feel anything. “If you are worried I might not be able to take it–.”

“No, I think you’ve got it,” you chuckled out, observing the way her hand stroked the strap. The mere intention and the way she did it were enough to allure just about anyone, but there was something about her doing it that was so peculiarly arousing. “You’re ready for me, Master?”

Wednesday looked up, then smirked and laid back down. Her legs opened to welcome you, instantly wrapping around you the moment you even moved closer to her. “Are you, my pet?” Wednesday cheekily responded, now observing you with lots of attention. 

You raised an eyebrow at her, gently guiding the cock to brush against her wet and ready folds. That garnered a reaction, soft and subtle but a delectable one nonetheless. “Readier than ever,” you paused, looking at her pussy and continuing to rub the tip against her. Her natural lubricant now smearing all around it. “You’re so wet. Have you been holding yourself back for weeks?” You asked rhetorically, or at least with no intentions of hearing her respond.

But she did. “Yes, I have,” she looked at you dead in the eyes. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

You wouldn’t let her wait any longer, gently tapping the tip of that cock against her clit and making her squirm almost instantly at it. An overwhelming sensation that probably felt so good for Wednesday, because she bucked her hips against it just to feel it more. But you stopped it in favor of what Wednesday was looking for.

The tip of the cock aligned against her entrance, meeting a bit of resistance before you pushed it in. That satisfying pop inside was not a shock for Wednesday, but still something still too new for her to be accustomed to. As gentle as ever, you slowly pushed it in, guiding the cock with one hand while the other caressed Wednesday’s tummy to quell the possible ache of an intruding object. “Shh, shh, you’re good, baby,” you softly placated. 

Wednesday deeply breathed and held onto your arm, doing her best to calm her body down. In no time, she welcomed your gentle and languid thrusts smoothly. The slickness of the way it slid in and out was indication enough but the presence of soft sounds of pleasure that grew steadily into moans was the last confirmation you needed. Now, you leaned to hover over Wednesday as your hips moved in a rhythm designed to ease Wednesday into it, not thrusting everything into her. But it was also to eventually torture her for how agonizingly slow and shallow it was.

Wednesday was still in the ‘ease-in’ phase of it, hands traveling down your clothed body and landing on your moving hips. Truthfully, she admired the movement as she felt it in her pussy, hands gripping your hips to understand the way it felt in her hands. Relishing in every second of its slowness. With a delighted hum, she reached down and grabbed your ass – possessiveness written so clearly in her intentions, but also curiosity as to how it felt thrusting into her. Mewling, she had a smirk that you swore could almost be a smile. “Not bad, my little pet,” she complimented you subtly, and you had to fight back the urge to thrust deep into her and ravage her right then and there. Be a good pet, and you will be rewarded.

Those soft moans of ease grew into needier ones and you did not wait for Wednesday to ask you or threaten you to start going faster. Your rhythm naturally picked up, thrusts becoming more elaborate along with it, and Wednesday only could get wetter and wetter. You straightened up, fully able to view Wednesday’s bare body in all its glory. Gorgeously bathed in that golden glow of dancing fire; the subtle arch of her back making her look so sensual. Your hands held her hips briefly before they traveled upwards caressing as much of her body as you could. When your hands reached her breast you grabbed them, kneading them passionately (it seemed to have taken Wednesday by a slight surprise), not letting your hips falter for a second as you did. “Such a good pet,” Wednesday moaned out, placing her hands on top of yours. “Harder now, your master is ready.” 

“Yes, master,” you raspily said. Hands moved away and you leaned in to capture Wednesday’s lips in a rather simple kiss. Simple but still passionate, brief enough to send a message of affection. But to make it clear, you softly spoke. “Let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

Wednesday nodded, keeping any witty remark to herself as she knew you were only being a good pet by taking care of her.

The fun truly began. You sat back up and grabbed Wednesday’s hip tightly, fingertips greedily digging into her skin. The movement of your hips went from sensual and slow, to wild and rough; pulling out until just the tip clung to Wednesday’s entrance, then slamming that cock all the way inside. The moment Wednesday felt that all the way inside, there was no way in heaven or hell that she could stop herself from moaning out as loud as she did. It was certainly a pleasant surprise though, for she didn’t squirm away from your hips, instead pushed against them. Welcoming it, asking for more. Then you didn’t hesitate to do it again, and again. A bestial instinct sparked within the two of you at this roughness, you both sinking deeper into that lustful haze that understood no reason, only pleasure. 

Shouldn’t be a surprise that Wednesday liked it, thrusting that cock as deep as it could go and filling her up, then feeling that cruel pull out that seemed to stretch on forever – even if it wasn’t that long at all. All of it was arousing, the tension in between, the sensation of being filled to the brim, all of it sparkling new to her, for she didn’t dare to venture this far when she used this toy by herself. It amused her how much losing control like this was something she was enjoying thoroughly. The wet sounds of it all, the skin slapping that gradually became quicker, the perfect atmosphere of a thunderstorm raging just outside the sturdy walls of the library, stimulating her every heightened senses.

Then you picked up the speed, holding her down in place and letting your hips do the work she so desperately wanted to see. Savagely, you wasted no inch of that cock and made every movement count. Wednesday was elated, now unable to fully restrain those loud moans back, hands clinging and holding on tightly to the rug that provided little steadiness. Merciless thrusts that Wednesday wallowed in. Oh and she enjoyed that wild look in your eyes, mirroring hers as you embraced such a savage state of mind with her as a guest.

Wednesday wanted to be the recipient of your desire, over and over, for however long she could. 

That intense feeling was building up in the way she liked, her pussy starting to feel sensitive, her cheeks warming up exponentially, her entire body tensing up and moving without her thinking it, her toes curling–.

But then… What happens if she comes? Will you stop? What happens when this is over? Will it ever happen again? Was she ready for that? 

Something switched in Wednesday’s train of thought, so sudden and unexpected. The strong emotions were coming in fast and she couldn’t process them at all. The intensity escalated more, but the pleasure started to take a backseat as suddenly she was overwhelmed. An unpleasant new sensation pooling at the pit of her gut that took over her mind for that moment. A mixture of confusion and desire that Wednesday had yet to fully examine, too out of her mind to even think about what she truly was feeling. 

She was not ready to lose control totally, but paradoxically she wanted to lose control so badly for that moment. Cold and heat clashing in the worst moment possible to make her doubt everything.

The moans of a carefree Wednesday suddenly turned into whimpers, then to sharper whines, clawing at your arm and gasping. That shortness of breath forbade her from vocalizing this confusing sensation, but luckily you could intuit something was wrong. You heard it, you felt it, and instinctively started to slow down; elongated strokes now shorter and careful. Hearing those gasps and whines fade a bit, lowering in volume, was a relief. Your affection for her quickly took over, searching for her eyes and reading her expression. It was as you heard it, Wednesday was overwhelmed. “Hey, hey, are you okay?” You panted out, leaning down to be closer to her.

Her arms wrapped around you limply at first, then she held you tighter than before, panting heavily and burying her head on your neck. A twinge within you couldn’t help itself in feeling this intensely… adorable, even though what happened probably felt wrong for Wednesday. Her finding solace in your embrace was good, though. She trusted you that way.

Putting your role in this dynamic aside for a moment, you reveled in that inner tenderness of yours and this rare break from all the wildness. “Hey, shhh, it’s okay,” you softly cooed, sweetly speaking to her ear. “You’re okay, mamacita. I’ve got you.”

Wednesday sighed out loudly, coming back down from this strange overwhelmed state quicker. It dissipated, pleasure slowly returning in its wake. Wednesday found it rather fascinating as her mind slowly returned to planet earth. It was a rush of sudden emotions that she had never experienced before, let alone as intensely as this. The way you slowed down and let her calm down, it was like you understood exactly what had just happened. Trusting you and your knowledge, she asked in a low voice. “What… what was that?”

“You got overwhelmed,” you said lowly, pulling her away from your embrace and encouraging her to lay down on her back. Your hand idly caressed stomach to help calm her down, watching her already mewl in approval of that. Reeling in the back of her eyes was the surprise, which should wear off for a second, so you were patient.

“I like it rough,” Wednesday clarified, but her eyes and eyebrows showcased that confusion. “That wasn’t a problem before.”

“It wasn’t,” you sighed out loudly, letting your body catch a breather as well. “But if you get in your head or I reach a spot you’re not comfortable with, you might…” You trailed off as you noticed Wednesday averting her gaze somewhere else, propping her upper body up by her elbows. You knew what that meant, so you softly commented. “You got in your head, didn’t you?”

No response. Instead, Wednesday tried to communicate by looking at you, unsure of how to word it.

Well, that was an amusing part of the experience, to understand that even the great Wednesday – your master – had a limit. Or, well, a soft limit that could easily be overridden. Taking the lead, you pulled away to trail a few, passionate and slow kisses around Wednesday’s stomach. Those soft moans of delight came back and Wednesday had fully relaxed by the time you chose to speak.

“Let’s try this again, this time I want you to stop thinking about it. Let the moment be and make the most of it.”

Wednesday looked down at you, her adorably obedient pet, taking the reins for her sake in this brief moment. The dark spirals of that blackened heart felt, strangely, at ease. Nothing inherently romantic, nothing sexual, just comforting words from a partner who sought to look out for her well being. In confidence, she spoke: “These desires bring so much trouble,” her heart not fully on the statement.

Your kissing halted for a second to chuckle and reply: “Yes, but it’s an itch worth scratching,” you said, continuing with gentle licks. Intimacy and affection not forgotten, you let your hands travel the dips and curves of Wednesday’s body, knowing that while she never spoke out loud about these affectionate gestures, she appreciated the subtle worship – maybe even more than you realized.

The role of master came back to Wednesday naturally as the pleasure rolled back in, this time feeling it a little more intensely than at the beginning but in a manageable way. Your role came back to you instantly as you noticed she went back to getting bolder, moans of pleasure loud and clear, primed to compete against the rumble and roar of the thunder outside.

Your master came back in full force, demanding you to stop with a firm voice that sent goosebumps all over. “Enough, little mutt,” and you were a good pet that obeyed, lending the baton back to Wednesday. “Your master needs to know more about your abilities…”

Did you ever wonder if Wednesday was flexible? It seemed like a no-brainer with all her training and physical disciplines, but when she asked you for something audacious you couldn’t have ever imagined it.

Your hands under her knees, pressing them against her body and exposing that wet, needy pussy all for you to play with. The infamous mating press. The tip of the cock poked and prodded against her entrance, your hip stuttered for a second before you boldly thrusted all the way in, watching Wednesday throw her head back as she moaned without a care in the world. Wednesday could feel it go in deeper than before, but her body was prepared for it and reacted positively. You dared not to move yet, patiently awaiting her command even though the desire to fuck her was clawing within you. Obedience that did not go unnoticed as Wednesday smirked at it, rewarding you with a soft kiss and a caress to your cheek. “Fuck me, my obedient little pet,” she gasped out sensually. “I know you want to.”

No more hesitating then. With your hands gripping her leg tightly, you did as she told you. You fucked her, and you fucked her good. Starting with a moderate pace that had Wednesday groan in vague annoyance, before quickly shutting up those moans with roughness, slamming that cock into her with gusto. Wednesday moaned out for you, calling out your name – sometimes outright forgetting to refer to you as her pet. But those were precious moments where her mask slipped, where her affection was clear, and it was sweet. A lustful mist that clouded her brain enough to truly reveal that she loved this deeply, because it was with you. So you continued to give it to her, merciless full strokes that at times had her gasping for air before she composed herself and remembered to breathe. Especially when that warm twinge started to contract in her gut, but this time in such a toe-curling pleasurable way. It wouldn’t take long for these bestial thrusts to stimulate her every inch until she came.

But Wednesday had better plans. “My lovely pet,” her labored, gaspy voice appeared between the strings of incoherent sounds. “Master’s going to come, stop.”

You almost didn’t understand anything except ‘stop’, but the bewilderment misaligned your thrust enough for the strap to slip out of her pussy. A mixed sigh of relief and annoyance at the loss of contact came out of Wednesday instantly. “W-what?” You stammered out.

Limp went her arms and body for a second, relishing in the cruel, anguishing sensation of a climax that never came and quickly faded. That wicked smirk on her face was enough confirmation of what she had just said to you. You didn’t stay behind though, calmly aligning the tip of the toy back against her entrance, entering a little bit slowly. 

“H-hmm?” Wednesday was puzzled, until she felt a single, long stroke all the way in. Her gasp was instant, but she could barely process the feeling of that cock inside of her because you pulled it back out instantly. Poor thing almost expected it back in, in accordance to your rhythm, but it never came and it had her excited, anticipating with hunger. Oh, it was anguishing and delicious.

“You’re going to torture yourself until you can’t anymore, aren’t you?” You growled at her, giving her another deep, rough thrust in. Her moan could barely come out before it turned into a whine as you pulled back out quicker, again. “You learn quick.”

Wednesday groaned at the sudden power you had over her, yet protested it none. “You better not come either, not until I’m done playing with you–Hnng!” You interrupted her sentence by thrusting into her, because some of that masochistic cruelty she had for herself started to rub off on you.

“I can’t come from this, master.” You interjected. 

She could’ve easily thrown a witty remark back, but she was busy being surprised to still feel that cock inside of her after that initial thrust. Yet her gasp didn’t take long to appear again as you started to circle your hips while buried deep inside her. “Fu-fuck, you naughty mutt,” Wednesday cursed out, back arched and head thrown back, noting how her eyes had rolled back at that moment.

That is probably the first time you heard Wednesday curse at you, or in general. How amusing, you wanted her to do it again – and you were gunning for that, but you were stopped by the feeling of grabbing you by your neck abruptly. Surprising, but in your drunken lust it was so sensual. She pulled you close, staring deeply into your eyes. “Get on your back, you slutty mutt,” her bewitching, sensual voice just got to you, bringing a new spurt of energy to your body that you couldn’t expel in any other way but this one.

Fucking her real good. 

Reclaiming her throne, Wednesday straddled you but with a whole different aura to her now. It was not her merely powering over you to interrogate you, or disturbing your serene slumber. This time she looked at you with that evil smirk tugging at her lips, dark eyes oozing hunger. Yes, indeed, she’s famished for more, and now she took the lead. Vague hesitation permeated her movements at first, but once aligning the cock to her entrance and smoothly sliding down on it, that hesitation dissipated to welcome instinct instead. The instinct to seek more pleasure, slamming down to fit it all the way in with a groan of ecstasy. Hands on your chest and shoulder for leverage, Wednesday began to move her hips in a way you never thought she would. That was a pleasant surprise, and though you technically couldn’t feel anything, the mere sensuality of it all had you enthralled. 

“Such a good little puppy I have with me,” Wednesday moaned out softly, her alluring moves starting to pick up a little in speed. “So obedient,” her voice a mixture of wickedness and affection, a combination she was so good with. “So sad the little puppy can’t come from this.”

Fingertips traveled from your collarbone to your cheek, feeling her dexterous fingers dance down to your jaw, staying in your chin for a moment before lightly (and surprisingly slowly) scratching under there. A gesture akin to what she would do to a real pet, and that was elating. It made you smile, which in turn brought a very rare smile on Wednesday. One you knew not to comment on, for she hated the way she smiled sometimes. Encouraged by the gesture, your light-as-feather finger touched her thigh, caressing upward as she moved and stopping at her hips. Your palm felt the movements, your fingertips dug into that soft, surprisingly warm skin – when it usually is cold and almost rigid. Being the good puppy that you were, you aided Wednesday in her moves and kept still for her to humor herself as she pleased.

And the gesture did not go past Wednesday.

“Helping Master?” Wednesday rhetorically asked, mewling in between that pause and holding it together to continue talking. “You want Master to come, even if it means you won’t get anything?”

Fascinating that Wednesday seemed to revel in the dirty talking, when she once preferred silence. Of course you would indulge her, nourishing that exploration and newfound kink. Everything for your master. “I want you to, Master. I’ll serve you until you’re satisfied.”

Wednesday knew that your selflessness knew no bounds, especially when it came to her. She could be the cruel mistress right now, but instead she slowed her pace down, her hand now caressing your face. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you a reward,” was what Wednesday could muster, a vague admission that she wanted you to feel pleasure from her as well. Eventually, anyway.

You couldn’t deny such a generous offer. “Yes, Master.”

Pulling your tie to prop your head up, she leaned down and kissed you hungrily, sloppily, but without missing a second to savor it. You replied with the same vigor for that brief moment you locked lips. There was no time where kissing Wednesday felt repetitive, for it always was a strong sensation that sparked all over your body – and Wednesday felt the same, unable to deny that she enjoyed it. 

Letting go of your tie, Wednesday pulled back and began to truly pick up the speed. Her sensuous moves went faster and she tried very hard to keep it consistent, feeling the pleasure get to her, and in a way that was so intoxicating to watch. Yet, it felt like you shouldn’t be observing, ogling so much, like Wednesday wouldn’t want that. But that flicker of doubt went away when she looked into your eyes and smirked briefly. She wanted you to, she was encouraging you to observe her bare body – a sight no one gets to see but you, especially not now as it bounced on that cock, so ravenously seeking that climax. She looked so heavenly, so wild, you almost wished you had more hands to touch and grab those bouncing breasts greedily. Instead, like any good pet, you settled for helping her bounce on it. Helping her light frame up and down on it, even subtly bucking your hips against her movements to fully get all that cock into her, and her reaction to it was immediate. The cock rubbed and poked at sensitive spots within her with such gusto that Wednesday could feel her body acting on its own, actively seeking it and continuing her bounce. Hypnotized by the feeling of it, that zenith inched close far too quickly for her taste.

With a shake of her head, she pulled it all out and settled to sit away from it, panting heavily. You thought, for a moment, she maybe would have wanted to come like this, but – almost as if she read your mind – she placed her hand against your lips and kept you quiet. She shook her head again, catching a breather.

“No, I’m not done with you.”

Okay, maybe she did read your mind. 

But you couldn’t read hers and she knew so by the way you looked at her with a quirked eyebrow and lost, half-lidded eyes.

Once composed, Wednesday huffed in relief and moved away from you. She crawled, slowly and alluringly away from you, showcasing herself to you in all her naughty glory. The only reason you didn’t immediately go to her was because you were flabbergasted. She looked so good, and so tempting in all kinds of angles. You truly could devour her, she was likely to let you.

A soft, impish chuckle came out of Wednesday once she noticed this, soon whistling (loudly at that) to get your attention. When you finally woke up and looked at her, your response was absent minded but honest. “Sorry, mistress.”

Wednesday raised an eyebrow at the new nickname, but she liked it, motioning you to come on over with her hand. “Come here at once,” she was firm but oddly affectionate as you crawled over and adjusted behind her. “Mistress needs her release now,” she said with a sensual emphasis on Mistress.

A subtle tell that, like this, she was ready to come. “Y-Yes, master,” you stammered out. While your voice faltered in that moment, your hips did not as you bottomed out that cock all the way into Wednesday back where it belonged, earning a satisfied groan. 

The pace and rhythm was already set to be fast, frantic and needy; her pussy so wet and welcoming that there was no need to be gentle anymore. Truly, you were not. Holding her hips in place, you thrusted with gusto, enjoying every second of this and making every inch of your move sensual and tantalizing for Wednesday to enjoy. Your mistress mewled and moaned like she never did before, showing you that she could truly get louder. Her back arched, her hands clung to the rug, and she couldn’t help some incoherent profanities from slipping past her composure. Well, whatever was left of it. And that paper-thin composure got shattered more when you started to rock her against your thrusts to truly impale her as deep as you could. It was pure ecstasy, it would make anyone with the hardest wall melt for sure and Wednesday was no exception. Even less when you wildly smacked her ass and picked up the roughness more.

“Fuck,” Wednesday gasped out at the sudden shift, feeling everything a lot more heightened now. “Y-you naughty little mutt,” she could barely say that with a growl, moaning towards the end of it. “You truly know how to fuck your mistress, don’t you?”

“Yes, Mistress,” the mere atmosphere had you tipsy with lust even if you couldn’t feel the friction. “I can’t get enough of your pussy,” your fingers dug into her skin the rougher your thrust got. “I-Is this good Master?”

You didn’t need to ask, Wednesday’s volume went up higher and could almost make the walls shake. “So fucking good, don’t you dare stop,” Wednesday’s labored breath was almost lost to the sound of slapping, but you caught it right on time.

“You’re dripping wet, Wens,” the nickname slipped your mind, your brain foggy with everything happening. “You’ve been needing this a while.”

Surprisingly, Wednesday didn’t seem to mind. “Because of you,” she replied in between gasps and moans, reaching back to feel around your body, from your arm to your shoulder, for your tie. She grabbed it and began to pull you in, making you drape your body on hers. You obliged, stopping for a moment, buried deep into her and twirling your hips to truly stimulate her deep down. Her eyebrows knitted in such delight at the pleasure. “Come here,” she whimpered out, placing a hand on your head and directing you to kiss, hard and needily. You didn’t expect anything, especially as her tongue dragged across your lips hungrily and possessively, seeking to taste your tongue again. However, there was a brief break in between that passion for Wednesday to say something you didn’t expect to hear ever.

In between moans and mewls, Wednesday said: “Thank you.”

You assumed it was because of all of this? After all, you got all the way here and became her little pet for another night – for however long it’s been since you two first kissed again. Clothed, aroused yet unable to undress and please yourself. A masochist’s dream to some extent. But it’s feasible that, deep down, Wednesday felt a little guilty for selfishly putting you through this for her amusement. Or maybe she felt… grateful that you made it safe for her to do so?

Overwhelmed with affection and passion, you replied a simple: “Anything for you,” as you dove down to her neck to place a playful bite that she chuckled at. Another thing you heard for the first time in a while, a chuckle that was not fake or forceful, coming from her deepest, most honest side of her black miasma of a heart. But a heart, no matter how blackened and rough, was still a heart at the end of the day.

Your hands went from her hips down to her pussy, caressing so lovingly on the way there. Rubbing her tummy with one hand and stimulating her clit with the other, you immediately felt that strong response against your body. Wednesday’s body squirmed, she gasped and grabbed a fistful of your hair when the pleasure hit, feeling that wave extend over her body in a positively paralyzing way. Now that’s the way to get her. 

A bit sooner than expected, Wednesday felt that extreme desperation to come, but could barely vocalize it with the way you fucked her, the way you played with her pussy like you were born to do that – like she was born to enjoy you. In a surprising gesture, Wednesday firmly commanded:

“Look at me.” 

It was like it came from her most primal side that refused to become mush to your administration while her entire body quivered. You gave her one last bite to her neck and looked up at her, hips fervently thrusting towards her climax (and you swear you could feel her closing around the cock), hands frantically rubbing and working on her clit while she looked at you with such hungry eyes. The pleasure built up again, but this time there was no thought to ruin it, letting the moment be as you told her to do. Her only thought was to lose that control she was so afraid of losing, and to relish that loss in your arms.

“Make me come, make your master come all over you,” she moaned out now, less firmly now.

As she said that, you put a little more pressure in your hand, your hips moving just the right way and angled in that perfect way that instantly had Wednesday’s face contorting entirely because of that pleasure. You pulled your body away to give her and her body the space to react to it, already telling by the high pitched tone of her voice that she was right there at the coveted zenith. It all had sent her off the edge, opening the floodgates that spilled her juice all over your cock, all over your fingers, nearly dripping down to the rug. “Oh my god,” she cried out and called out for you in a drowned whimper, upper body succumbing to the rug, hands stretched out to cling to anything to the rug. Her lower body trembled against you and the way you fucked her, truly something you didn’t expect Wednesday to experience. You knew nothing more at that moment than to keep going, now thrusting more consistently to truly fuck her all the way through her orgasm.

An orgasm that surprised you by how it stretched further than her last one, remaining as intense for longer. You were a good pet that gave it your all until it started to fade. Her moans got quieter, her body uncoiled from its tense state, and you slowed down in tandem to it. Fingers, thrusting, everything slowed down. Time, even, the storm outside, seemed to slow down with you both.

Then, that fervor, that all-consuming climax, was gone.

Wednesday panted heavily, gasping out at the feeling that you were still inside of her, so she reached back and touched your hip to gently push you, pleasantly overwhelmed and overstimulated. Obliging, you pulled away. Quietly now, only accompanied by your labored breaths and the crinkling of the live flame nearby, you both relished in that post-orgasmic bliss – Wednesday more than you, but watching her still propped up and so ruined was… so good, it could almost bring you to your own climax. 

You focused back on her though, gently touching her and leading her to lay down proper. Mind still reeling from all that, Wednesday only got on her side and laid down. The movement and the contact of your hands had her whimpering and whining, still sensitive because of it all. It was honestly quite adorable but you knew not to admit that out loud. You didn’t waste more time, standing up to get rid of the strap-on so you could get down and properly cuddle your master. Lewdly, you noted just how all of Wednesday essence was on it, and you couldn’t fight back a moan of your own.

“Get… here,” Wednesday barely mumbled out, snapping your attention back to reality and quickly to her. “Hold me, puppy.”

Putting the strap away for a nice cleanse, you walked back and laid down on your back next to Wednesday. She immediately moved closer and placed her head on your chest, arm wrapped around your waist to hold you as close as you could be. You tenderly hugged her close to you. “Are you okay?” It was that sweet contrast between the focused, primal you of moments before, to the supportive and puppy-like you in the after bliss. 

Wednesday nodded, still too spent to speak. 

“Good,” and you had all the intentions to let the conversation die there if needed, until you started to feel her entire body give a quick, almost adorable twitch. You blinked in confusion a few times before you looked at her. “Did you just twitch?”

“Keep it to yourself,” Wednesday said with a flimsy attempt at sounding firm, slowly looking up. “I can’t help it.”

You smiled down at her and nodded. “Your secret will always be safe with me,” you leaned down and placed a kiss on her bang-covered forehead. 

There was a mumble that  you couldn’t understand, Wednesday shifting a little closer. You held her tighter, rubbing her naked back. After a brief silence between the two of you, she spoke out more clearly. “Good puppy,” a beat. “I’ll give you your reward.”

You furrowed your eyebrows and was about to protest it, seeing how exhausted she was.

Then she continued. “Some other time…”

Rather than frustration, that brought a chuckle out of you. “Yes, we have a groundbreaking case to crack lying on that desk first.”

Wednesday groaned. Another chuckle from you, then pleasant silence. 

The conversation drifted with the lulling wind outside, the song that Wednesday had playing far away finished so long ago. Now, her record player only spun in silence, while the partners in crime slept cuddled close to the warm fireplace.