Imagine Dropping Your Protagonist Because She's Fully Aware That What's Being Done To Palestine Is Genocide

Exile

Pairings: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: you and Wednesday were best friends when you were kids, but after Nero’s death, she became cold and distant, and your former friendship turned into a rivalry. Ten years after your friendship ended, unusual circumstances force you two back together.

Trope: childhood friends to enemies to lovers

Warnings: small violent at beginning, angst, death of Nero. Let me know if I missed any!

My Masterlist

Word Count: 12.3K (what’s a word count?)

The sound of children laughing rang throughout the woods on a crisp fall morning. The trees were beautiful vibrant colors that painted the landscape with shades of fiery red, golden yellow, and earthly orange. The crisp air that one could taste in their lungs carried a gentle rustling of fallen leaves while the scent of decaying foliage filled the atmosphere. The ground was adorned with a carpet of fallen leaves that created a soft crunch when the two children ran through the serene woodland.

Even though one child chased the other with a small ax, the two had the same fun. The one with the ax was a taller girl with jet-black twin braids who wore all-black clothing, expert for her white collar shirt. She wore a giant smile on her face as she chased her best friend, Y/N.

You were shorter than Wednesday but had just as much fire in you as Wednesday did. Where Wednesday’s eyes were as black as night, you had a gray and green eye that you used to hide behind sunglasses until Wednesday told you they were the most beautiful things in the world, “You shouldn’t hide what separates you from others, Y/N. Especially if it makes you all the more beautiful.”

You wore brighter colors than Wednesday, but you both shared a love for darkness. You were nothing without Wednesday, just as Wednesday was nothing without you.

The two made an odd pair, but one was never seen without the other. There were times when Morticia had to pry her daughter away from you to find that you had snuck back over sometime in the moonlight. Whenever Wednesday would practice her cello, she would invite you to play the piano, and together you two would create the most heavenly sound that would make angels cry. The contrast was there, but they fit together like puzzle pieces.

As they ran through the woods, you tripped on a small branch and fell to the ground, causing worry to overtake Wednesday as she sprinted to the fallen girl. “Are you alright, Y/N?” Wednesday asked as she knelt beside her friend, but her worry quickly disappeared when you sprang up and tackled her to the ground. You removed the ax from the taller girl’s grasp and held it to her neck. “I appear to be the victor,” you said with a giant smile contrasting Wednesday’s grim expression.

Wednesday leaned up and shoved you off her as she stood up and brushed herself off. “That’s hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday replied dryly as she helped you off the ground.

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you shot back while standing up. You lived for the playful banter with Wednesday and would rather lose your tongue than go without annoying Wednesday for a day. You handed Wednesday the ax back so she could be the Hunter again, and she placed it in its holster on her hip.

As you two were getting ready to start a new game, a voice rattled the trees around you, “Wednesday! Y/N! Time to come home!” The two shared a look and rolled their eyes simultaneously; they both hated it when Morticia ruined their fun, but they started their walk back to the house nonetheless.

As they walked, Wednesday felt bold and pulled you into a headlock and brought the smaller girl’s head against her ribcage. You didn’t even have time to protest before you felt Wednesday’s knuckles dig into your scalp. You squirmed against Wednesday’s hold, but it was useless; the taller girl was stronger than you. So, you did what any sane person would do; you bit down on Wednesday’s forearm that was keeping you in place. Not enough to hurt the assailant, but just enough to let go of you. And just as you predicted, Wednesday let go of you and grabbed the area that the smaller girl just bit. “Why did you do that?” Wednesday questioned as she rubbed her arm back and forth.

“Uh, because I can?” You retorted as you motioned with her hand, giving Wednesday an attitude that the other girl scoffed at. “Let us go, my compact companion; we have tasks at hand,” Wednesday said as she grabbed your hand, and the two ran back to the Addams’ residence together.

“You have to stop calling me that,” you whined. Wednesday had her collection of names to call you, and the shorter girl hated them.

“It’s not my fault you’re shorter than me; blame your genetics,” Wednesday replied with a dry tone but a slight smile that caused you to smile once you saw it. Wednesday never smiled at anyone except you; Wednesday made a lot of exceptions for the more petite girl, even though she would never admit it.

When they arrived at the mansion, both girls were out of breath as Morticia came outside to greet them. “Hello, my little doves. Did you two enjoy the hunt?” Wednesday’s mother asked them as they went inside and took off their shoes.

“Yes, Mrs. Addams, I always have fun with Wens. She’s the best,” you breathlessly replied as you followed Wednesday up to her room.

Morticia was always fond of you; she loved how her morbid daughter seemed to light up when she was around you, and she knew that her daughter could always rely on and trust you. But all great things must come to an end.

Wednesday held her bedroom door open for you as they entered. The room was dark and cold, but it had character, like Wednesday. There were two giant windows that Wednesday always kept covered on the opposite wall of the door. There were collections of knives hung up on the walls, and the shelves were littered with bookshelves, and in the corner of the room was a cello right next to Y/N’s piano. A small fireplace was built into the wall and had a black, round table in front of it that sat only two. A black bed was in the center of the room with its headboard against the wall, and at the end of the bed was a small bed bench that was purple, Y/N’s favorite color. Above Wednesday’s bed were two swords mounted onto the ceiling; one had a black handle with the purple initials of W.A. etched into the ricasso, while the other had a purple handle with your initials engraved in black. You found the swords a bit odd, but according to Wednesday, it made her feel like Damocles.

You messed with the record player beside the fireplace and put on your favorite record. Soon, the upbeat saxophone of ‘Bop’ by Dan Seals filled the room. Wednesday rolled her eyes when she saw you recreate John Travolta’s ‘Twist’ dance from Pulp Fiction.

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

I want to be-bop with you, baby, till the break of dawn

I want to bop with you, baby, all night long

“Come on, Wens. You know you wanna dance with me,” You said as you started making the swimming motion from the dance. Finding that she could never say no to Y/N, Wednesday rolled her eyes again before copying Uma Thurman’s dance to match you. When Wednesday did the snorkel dance move, you laughed at the taller girl’s awkwardness, and Wednesday smiled at the thought of making you laugh.

Out of breath, the two finished the dance, and they both had giant smiles as their eyes copied their lips. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked as she stuck out your hand and slightly bowed.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday stated but took your hand and allowed the girl to spin her.

Twenty minutes had passed when the clock on the fireplace dinged, telling Wednesday it was time to walk Nero. “It’s time for me to walk Nero, but I will see you when I get back,” Wednesday stated as she moved toward the area that was reserved for Nero and got him out of his cage, and put him on his leash.

The three walked down the front door together and left the house together. “See you in a minute,” you said as you walked away from Wednesday. The taller girl sent you a small wave as she walked toward town with Nero.

You arrived home and did what you usually did when Wednesday was away; you waited. You knew Wednesday’s schedule to the tee: wake up at six, morning torture with Pugsley at six-thirty, breakfast at seven-thirty, play with Y/N at eight until her walk with Nero at ten-thirty, come back at eleven and practice her cello with Y/N until twelve-thirty and have lunch at twelve-thirty five. The hours between one and three were filled with any ‘spontaneous activities’ Wednesday might want to do, and at four, she read until five, had dinner at six, and did nightly torturing with Pugsley (or Y/N if you consented) at six-thirty until bedtime at eight-thirty.

So when you checked the clock and saw it was ten-thirty-five, you left her house and skipped to Wednesday’s. As you approached the house, there was a sudden shift in the air, and you could taste it on your lips: death had arrived. You cautiously walked up the stairs and knocked on the door, something you never did. You were always around Wednesday so much that Morticia told you that you didn’t need to knock anymore as she could ‘sense’ the girl’s presence.

When the door opened, you knew that something had happened; you just hoped that Wednesday was okay. Gomez was standing before you with a grim expression as he ushered you in. Your eyes landed on a weeping Wednesday, and your heart broke. You moved to sit next to the goth girl and opened your arms, and Wednesday immediately hugged you and buried her face in the crook of your neck. You rubbed her best friend’s back as she continued crying; you didn’t know what to do, but you only knew that you wanted to be with Wednesday.

The following day, Wednesday had a funeral for Nero, and no one but Y/N could attend. The two girls shed a tear as they both placed a flower on his grave, and you comforted Wednesday once more. Later that night, in Wednesday’s room, Wednesday had allowed you to sleep in bed with her. The two girls were cuddled together, staring at the swords above them, when Wednesday broke the silence, “You are far too dear to me, Y/N. The pain I have felt the past two days is something I never want to experience again, and I certainly do not wish to experience it all over again because of you.”

“Don’t worry, Wednesday. You’re stuck with me till life do us part,” you replied as you hugged your best friend, never wanting to lose the girl.

At just six years old, Wednesday had lost her beloved pet and experienced grief for the first time, and she knew that she would have to grieve every single person in her life at some point. So that night, she made a vow; never to be close enough to someone where she would shed a tear because of their death, and that meant letting go of who she loved most: Y/N.

At first, it was very subtle: Wednesday would smile less around you, and she would spend less time working with you on your music. It was so subtle that no one but you noticed, and it hurt you. Then, more significant things began to happen; Wednesday would purposely fill her schedule with things to do that didn’t involve you, and when you two did hang out, she made sure to try and distance herself from you. And then it all came crashing down on Wednesday’s seventh birthday.

You had a small box in your hand as you walked up the steps to the front door of the Addams mansion and knocked, patiently waiting for someone to open the door. Only a few seconds had passed before Morticia opened the door and towered over the small child. “Hello, my darling. Wednesday is in the greenhouse,” Morticia said as she stood aside and let you into the house before shutting the door.

“Thank you, Mrs. Addams. I haven’t seen her in a couple of days, so I hope she won’t be angry,” you innocently said as you ignored the pain in her heart that Morticia seemed to pick up on.

Eager to change the subject in fear of you becoming sad, Morticia asked as she led you to the greenhouse, “I’ve already told you that you can stop calling me ‘Mrs. Addams,’ My child, so why do you continue?”

You shrugged your shoulders at the comment. You didn’t know why you still spoke to the woman in a formal tone, but it felt weird on your tongue to call her anything else. “I don’t know, I think it’s a respect thing for me,” you replied as you opened the door to the greenhouse. Morticia nodded at the child’s words before whispering, “Have fun with my little death trap.”

You smiled at Morticia’s words as you entered the greenhouse. You knew precisely where Wednesday would be and didn’t pretend to look for the goth girl.

Wednesday was cutting black roses from their stem when she heard soft footsteps behind her. She didn’t bother turning around; she could recognize those footsteps in the crowd of a thousand people. “What are you doing here, YN?” Wednesday asked in a dry tone that caused you to stiffen.

“It’s your birthday, and I wanted to give you something,” you said as you approached Wednesday and set the box next to her. “I know you love your birthday, as it is one more year closer to your death, so here’s your present to celebrate.”

Wednesday gave the more petite girl a suspicious look before putting down the rose and scissors and picking up the box. It was unnaturally light, so she doubted it was a weapon or bomb. She slowly took the lid off the box, and any words died on the tip of her tongue once she realized what it was.

It was a small, black, crocheted scorpion that took you hours to make. She also saw a small note underneath the scorpion, but she didn’t pick it up as her vision became red.

She didn’t know why she was angry. All Wednesday knew was that she wanted you gone. “Get out,” Wednesday hissed as she set the box down and grabbed a knife from her boot.

“What? Why?” You asked as you slowly backed up from Wednesday as your eyes fell on the knife. Of course, Wednesday would make the occasional threats, but you had never believed them; until now.

“Friends are nothing but liabilities, and they only hold me back. So. Get. Out.” Wednesday repeated as she backed you against a small flower pot. She no longer had control over her emotions, and every second she spent with you only seemed to anger her more.

“Wednesday, please. I didn’t mean to upset you. I thought you would have liked the gift. Please, I’m your best friend, and I-” Any words you were about to say got caught in your throat as Wednesday brought the knife up, cutting a straight line on your left eye. The cut was three inches below your eye and an inch above it.

The two stood there in disbelief as neither could believe what happened. Only when blood started pouring out of your cut, and you collapsed onto the floor did Wednesday do something; she called out for her mother’s help for the first and only time as she held you in her eyes, trying her best to fight back tears.

Morticia ran out to the greenhouse and instantly scooped you into her arms as she yelled for Gomez. The man came burling down the stairs and could not contain his tears as she saw your blood-covered state.

The couple quickly rushed you to the hospital, and once you were checked into the ER, the couple notified your parents. They arrived within ten minutes of the phone call, and they were everything but calm, from questioning how Morticia and Gomez allowed this to happen to demanding that Wednesday be punished.

The two sets of parents seemed to be at each other’s throats while Wednesday tried her best to disappear. She felt nothing but guilt for hurting her Y/N, and she wanted to do everything possible to make it up to the girl. So when Wednesday got her chance to see you, she practically sprinted into your room.

You were lying in a hospital with the entire left side of your face bandaged up, and Wednesday could see some blood seeping through. Wednesday slowly approached the bed and gently grabbed your hand. As if repulsed by the touch, you quickly pulled your hand away from Wednesday’s and brought it to your chest. You glared at Wednesday with your right eye before hissing, “Get out.”

“No, Y/N, you don’t understand-” Wednesday started but was quickly cut off by Y/N.

“I’m nothing but a liability to you, Wednesday, so leave,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked away from Wednesday, refusing to cry in front of the taller girl. ‘I think I’ll miss you forever; like the stars miss the sun in the morning skies,’ you thought as you watched your best friend leave.

Wednesday nodded her head and slowly walked to the door, and turned to face you one last time. “Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere.”

You were once her crown, and now she was in exile seeing you out. She gave you so many warning signs, but you never learned to read her mind.

When she left the hospital, she felt nothing but shame and guilt that filled her body the entire car ride back home. She cleaned the blood off the floor before going to her room, where she sobbed for the second and last time.

School was different after that happened; the former best friends refused to meet each other’s gaze and soon found that their previous partnership turned into rivalry, constantly competing to be number one. It was an unfair competition, as Wednesday was more naturally gifted than you, and she seemed to beat you at everything, but you refused to give you. You would spend hours perfecting your craft, and when it came time for the archery competition, you beat Wednesday by a single point. Any chance for friendship was ruined when you accepted the first-place trophy and sent Wednesday an evil glare when she was awarded her second-place trophy.

Their rivalry continued like this for numerous years, always for captain for a particular activity or number one in their grade, but just as before, you always seemed to fall short. It continued for three years until you suddenly stopped showing up for school.

Wednesday believed that she had beaten you so far into the ground that you decided to stop coming to school. But after two weeks had passed and Wednesday had not seen her former best friend, she became curious and decided to stop by your house.

Only when Wednesday saw the ‘for sale’ sign in your yard, she allowed herself to be swallowed by guilt. She had pushed you too far in their competition for first and had made you move. Wednesday realized that she might never see her Y/N again, and regret flooded her mind as she slept on the purple bed bench with your sword in her arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I think we are getting a new student today, and I'm totes excited!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped to Wednesday’s side of the room. The last person to arrive at Nevermore Academy was Wednesday herself, so naturally, Enid was ecstatic to meet someone new.

“You know I do not care for new faces who share the same boring personalities as everyone else here,” Wednesday mumbled while she typed on her type-writer.

Enid huffed at Wednesday’s remark before glancing at her roommate’s work. Wednesday noticed the action and quickly sent an elbow into Enid’s side, causing the girl to groan in pain. “You also know I hate it when you try to read my work. I have no idea why you keep trying to read anything; you know the result,” Wednesday stated as she continued typing.

“Whatever. Just humor me for a moment,” Enid said as she put some space between her and Wednesday, avoiding any elbows that might be sent her way. “I will not humor you but continue.”

“So, from what my sources tell me, she’s from Italy, not like the normal part of Italy, but the mob part!” Enid informed while using her hands to talk.

“Enid, just because someone is from Sicily doesn’t mean they are in the mob. And if she is, I would like to interrogate her about it; it could add a new element to my novel,” Wednesday said.

The brighter girl walked to her side of the room and grabbed her phone. When she picked it up, she made an obnoxious sound before sprinting to Wednesday. “She’s here Wednesday. You have to come and meet her!” Enid exclaimed as she lightly pulled on Wednesday’s arm, causing her to receive a death glare, but she allowed herself to be drawn from her seat.

The two quickly walked down the stairs and arrived at Weems’ office. “Why are we standing creepily outside Weems’ office?” Wednesday questioned as she glanced over her shoulder at her roommate.

“Because, silly, she’s in there talking to Weems right now, and when she comes out, I want to be the first to greet her. And I’ve already volunteered to give her a tour of the grounds,” Enid exclaimed in a hushed tone as if the stranger and Weems were pressed against the door, spying on their conversion.

“And what will I do? I am certainly not talking to another half-brain student,” Wednesday said dryly as she stared at the door.

Enid rolled her eyes at the goth girl’s statement; she had made Wednesday talk to someone new only once to find out that the person only talked about horses and the patriarchy. “You can glare uncomfortably on the sidelines then,” Enid replied.

Wednesday was getting ready to retort when she heard shuffling from behind the door and soft-spoken words that she could not make out.

“Howdie, friend! I’m Enid, and I’ll be giving you the tour!” Enid enthusiastically said as she attacked the girl with a hug.

All the air from Wednesday’s lungs had been sucked out as she stared at the stranger before her. She prayed to the old gods and new that this wasn’t some evil joke, her punishment for raising the dead. But when she saw the stranger smile, she knew this was her Y/N.

You stood before Wednesday with a human highlighter wrapped around your waist. You were wearing black slacks with a black button-up, and Wednesday felt a heart pick up as she admired you in her color. Where you once had chubby cheeks, they were now thinned out, and you had a jawline that could cut glass. You were once a short and stocky kid, but now you towered over Enid, and your muscular arms wrapped around the rainbow girl. It seemed like everything about you had changed, but nothing at all as well. You still had that bright smile and charming personality, as always, but Wednesday’s heart sank when she saw the scar on your eye. It took her a moment to notice it as you wore black sunglasses hiding your beautiful heterochromia.

“Ah, good, you’re already here, Enid, to give Miss Y/L/N a tour, and you’ve brought Miss Addams as well,” Weems said as she stepped out of her room and stood next to Enid and you. Wednesday nearly melted onto the floor when she saw you pull back from Enid and stand up straight, just a few inches shorter than Weems. She noticed how your smile faltered at the mention of ‘Addams’ before you played it off and plastered a fake smile on your lips. The air that was once filled with playful curiosity was one of tension, anger, betrayal, and longing.

“Addams,” you said with no emotion in a thick Italian accent as you extended your large and callused hand toward Wednesday that engulfed the goth girl’s small and cold hand. When your hands touched for the first time in ten years since the hospital, you both felt an electric charge pass between you two, and time seemed to stand still for a moment while the rest of the world disappeared around them.

Your covered eyes locked with Wednesday’s, and you both knew you felt an undeniable spark that sent shivers down your spines. Unspoken words seemed to flow between their fingertips as if their souls were communicating through the simple touch. They both felt the unexplainable and undeniable chemistry rushing back and flooding their minds as they looked at each other for the first time in seven years.

“Y/L/N,” Wednesday replied as she eagerly dropped your hand and wiped her palm on her pants as if it would erase the spark she felt.

Enid and Weems both shared a look as they watched the awkward encounter between the two girls, clearly displaying that they have a history between them. Enid cleared her throat as she stepped between you and Wednesday, “alrighty then, shall we get started with our tour?”

Your mood switched on a dime, and you instantly beamed at Enid’s words. You smiled down at the girl and locked your elbow with hers, and rested your hand gently on her arm, “Of course, my dear, let us begin our journey.” Wednesday pulled her eyes at your remark but walked a few paces behind you and her roommate; she knew this would be the start of a very unfortunate friendship.

“Welcome to the quad,” Enid said as she unlocked your arms and motioned around with her hands. “It’s a pentagon,” you replied as you looked at your surroundings.

Enid rolled her eyes at your comment; great, now she’d have to deal with two Wednesdays as if one wasn’t enough. “You know, Wednesday said the same thing when she first arrived too. I have a feeling you two will be the best of friends!” Enid stated in a cheerful tone after releasing that her roommate can have more than one friend.

“No,” the formal best friends said simultaneously and sent each other a glare, and if Enid picked up on it, you were glad she didn’t say anything.

“Allow me to give you a rundown on the social scene here at Nevermore,” Enid said as she walked around the ‘quad.’ “There are many flavors of outcasts here, but the four main cliques are Fangs, Furs, Stoners, and Scales,” the brighter girl stated while counting her fingers.

As Enid gave you the tour, you half paid attention out of respect for the girl trying to sell Nevermore to you, but all you could think about was the more petite girl standing a few feet behind you. You could feel her eyes burning holes into your back, but you couldn’t face her again, not after everything you’ve been through. There was once a time when you would have laid down your life for Wednesday; now, you could barely breathe the same air as her without getting angry. You knew it was stupid to hold a grudge for this long, but Wednesday was your first and only love, and you would be damned if you let her see you weak again.

When you finished the tour, Enid took you to your room, which was, unfortunately, in Ophelia Hall. “O-M-G! You’re rooming with Yoko! She is my best friend,” Enid announced before looking over at Wednesday, “well, besides Wens, obviously.”

Your heart sank at the nickname for Wednesday. Only you were allowed to call her Wens when you were children, and she barely let you do that. And now, here she was, allowing someone dressed like unicorn vomit to call her that without so much as an idle threat.

“‘Wens?’” You questioned with an eyebrow raised as you looked between the two roommates. You were glad you started to wear your sunglasses again so that neither girl could see the sadness in your eyes. But Wednesday knew you all too well, and she saw how your posture faltered when Enid called her that, and she saw the barely noticeable frown that tugged at your lips. ‘My name should only ever leave your lips,’ Wednesday wanted to say, but she held her tongue.

“Oh, yeah. That’s my nickname for Wednesday. She told me that no one has ever given her one before, so I decided to give her one,” Enid said as she ushered the two girls back to her room, “Come on, I wanna show you mine and Wednesday’s room.”

At the mention of Wednesday never having a nickname, you dropped your fake smile and looked at Wednesday, who was refusing to meet your gaze. ‘Do I mean that little to you where you would erase even our happiest memories?’ You thought when Wednesday finally looked up at you, and for the first time today, you saw emotion in her dark eyes: regret.

“I love the window,” you said as you entered Enid and Wednesday’s room. You loved the contrast between the two girls and how they seemed to get along perfectly; it reminded you of when you were young and Wednesday’s favorite person. Now, the girl barely looked at you.

“Thanks; the first day here, Wednesday took off her side of color and then put tape down to divide our room. And now look at how far we’ve come! I’m like the only one here who Wens actually cares about!”Enid exclaimed as she spun in her circle with her arms outstretched, clearly happy to be buddy-buddy with Wednesday. You nodded your head, trying to push back the tears that weld in your eyes at the mention of Wednesday caring for someone else before your eyes snapped to something on Wednesday’s wall.

“What’s this?” You questioned as you moved to get a closer look at the object that had caught your attention, causing both of the roommates to follow you.

“Oh, that’s one of Wednesday’s favorite weapons. She doesn’t let anyone touch it, not even me,” Enid said as her eyes fell on the sword mounted to the wall above Wednesday’s writing desk. Your eyes scanned over the sheathed sword and fell to the purple handle before you turned and looked at Wednesday. “May I?” You asked in a barely audible voice.

You expected Wednesday to shoot you down before you even finished speaking, but the girl gave you a curt nod, not trusting her voice at this moment. Your hands reached up and took the sword off its mantle, and you slowly took it out of its sheath and set it down on Wednesday’s desk. You turned the sword over and admired the sharp edge as you carefully ran your pointer finger along the blade’s edge; you could easily tell that Wednesday had been sharpening it routinely. Your finger finally made its way to the helm of the sword, and you turned it over and sucked in air as you let out a small chuckle.

You read your initials that were still engraved in the sword before your saddened eyes finally looked up at Wednesday’s guilt-ridden ones. Wednesday thanks the gods that you had your eyes covered, as she knew her heart would have broken ten times over if she saw the sadness in them.

“Well, then,” you said with a shaky breath as you sheathed the sword and placed it back on its mantle, “it’s a beautiful blade, Wednesday.” Your eyes caught something in the corner of Wednesday’s desk, and you felt every single emotion wash over you like waves crashing onto the shore: a small, black crocheted scorpion sat on top of an unopened note. Before you could comment on it, Wednesday’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts.

“I know it is,” Wednesday spoke honestly as her eyes danced across your face while you picked up on the double meaning behind her words.

After several seconds of awkward tension, you cleared your throat and walked to the door, “Alright then, I’ll, uh, leave you guys to it.”

Wait!” Enid shouted as she skipped over to you with her phone in hand. “Let me get your Snapchat so we can talk some more,” she said as she pulled up Snapchat. You smiled politely as you pulled your phone out of your back pocket and opened up Snapchat, and allowed the werewolf to add you, and you accepted her friend request when it popped up.

“I’ll see you later, Enid,” you said as you opened up the door to walk out, but you stopped and turned around to face Wednesday, “see you around sometime, Addams.” As you left, only one thought ran across both of your minds: ‘I can’t say hello to you and risk another goodbye.’

When you left the room, Enid immediately turned to face her roommate. “What was that about?” She questioned while staring down at the goth girl.

“I have no idea what you are referring to,” Wednesday replied as she walked over to her desk and began working on her novel. She had emotions come back that she had not felt in nearly ten years, and she needed to get them off her chest, writing out different scenarios of her killing Y/N.

Enid stomped to Wednesday’s desk and turned the small girl around in her chair. She grasped Wednesday’s shoulders and tightly gripped them as she spoke, “Yes, you do. Do not lie to me, Wednesday, or I will paint the side of your hot pink.”

The more petite girl rolled her eyes at her roommate’s comment before prying the hands off her shoulders and returning to her typewriter. “We used to be friends, and now we aren’t; end of story,” Wednesday flatly replied.

“I don’t believe you, I know there’s more to the story, but I won’t pressure you,” Enid defeatedly said as she walked over to her bed and lay down. Of course, she was dying to know the history between you and Wednesday. Still, she would never force Wednesday to talk about something uncomfortable, so she decided to wait it out and see if she could get an answer from either you or Wednesday first.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two roommates walked into fencing class and heard the ringing of metal crashing together, and saw that Bianca was in a match with you. The two watched as you blocked Bianca’s advances and matched each of her assaults with double the force, causing the siren to walk backward toward the end of the mat. With one final blow against Bianca’s foil, you cause her to step backward off of the mat and ultimately lose the match.

Bianca let out an angry huff at the loss but shook your hand afterward. “You gave me a nice challenge, and I respect that. I hope to go up against you again soon,” the siren said as she walked off the mat.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky next time and beat me,” you joked as you started to take off your gear when your eyes landed on Wednesday. Before you had moved, you and Wednesday were always in fencing competitions, and it seemed that the two of you were always paired to go against one another. Naturally, you lost every time you went against her, but that was seven years ago, and you spent the past seven years perfecting every little thing that Wednesday was better at.

“Coach Vlad, I was wondering if I could go against someone else before class ends?” You questioned as you stood up. You knew that if you publicly challenged Wednesday that she couldn’t turn it down, and you also knew that she believed she was still the better fencer, so both of those gave you an advantage.

Coach Vlad studied your expression and determined that you only asked to prove a point, so he let you. “Who will you be challenging, miss Y/LN?”

“Addams,” was all you said as you stared at the girl dressed in an all-black fencing attire. Wednesday’s ears perked up at you challenging her, and she knew she would clear you.

“Very well, Wednesday, if you accept the challenge, stand the opposite of Y/N,” Coach Vlad stated with a hint of excitement. He loved watching the way the Addams sparred with his students; she was graceful yet coarse, which reminded him of when he was a student here at Nevermore.

Wednesday walked over to the mat you were standing on, her eyes locked with your covered ones. She wondered what made you wear those sunglasses again, and she missed those eyes she once called home.

“En garde,” Coach Vlad yelled as the atmosphere crackled with tension. The room falls into a reverent silence as the match begins. With grace and precision, you and Wednesday engage in a mesmerizing dance of footwork and technique, each exchange showcasing your guys' skill and determination.

Their moves were swift and calculated, their attacks and defenses fluid, each striving to gain the upper hand. The crowd of students watched in awe as they witnessed a display of finesse and competitive spirit.

Wednesday made the first aggressive move, launching a series of rapid lunges, attempting to catch you off guard. But you proved your prowess with deft parries, countering with swift ripostes that keep Wednesday on her toes.

As the match progressed, the intensity escalated, and their footwork became even more intricate, seeking to exploit any opening in their opponent's defense. The clang of metal echoed through the hall as their foils met in a series of fierce clashes.

Neither competitor gave an inch, their faces showing steely determination. You and Wednesday are evenly matched, your skills complementing each other, creating a mesmerizing spectacle for the crowd.

With each point you and Wednesday scored, your fellow students held their breaths, afraid that if they cheered, it would mess you two up. Yours and Wednesday’s adrenaline surged, and your focus sharpened, all distractions fading away as you two immersed yourselves entirely in the moment.

Time seemed to slow down, the seconds stretching into eternity as the match neared its climax. With one final burst of energy, you executed a daring feint, catching Wednesday off balance. In that split second, you placed your foot on top of Wednesday’s and advanced, causing the more petite girl to fall backward onto the mat. You stood over her and shoved the tip of the foil into her chest armor.

“I appear to be the victor,” you said as you towered over Wednesday before she quickly jumped up from the ground and stormed out of the hall, with you right on her heels.

“That was hardly a win; you cheated,” Wednesday stated as she stomped toward Ophelia hall. “And stop following me.”

“I might have cheated, but you’re still the loser,” you retorted as you quickened your step to walk beside Wednesday. “And I’m not following you; we live in the same hall.”

Wednesday said nothing; she couldn’t argue with the fact you two shared a hallway, but she still didn’t like it. You watched as Wednesday threw her door open and slammed it shut with a smile on your face; it felt good to have that playful banter back.

Naturally, your rivalry with Wednesday continued as if it had never left; you two constantly competed for the correct answers in your classes, and you two refused to fence with anyone else. It became so toxic that teachers started putting you two out in the hallway during class, like little toddlers who were being disruptive.

“I had a marvelous time ruinin’ everything,” you joked with Wednesday as it seemed you two were sitting outside your potions class once more. You had your back pressed against the stone wall next to the door, and Wednesday opted to sit next to you but kept a few feet between you.

“I do suppose ruining the activities of others is tolerable with you,” Wednesday said as she looked over at your beautiful smile that she once loved and felt her own lips twitch upward.

“I know my antics should be celebrated, but I’m glad you tolerate it,” you said once you saw her scary attempt at a smile.

At the week's end, Enid invited you to her room for some “girl talk.” You had no idea what girl talk would involve, but you wouldn’t pass up a chance to piss Wednesday off.

“Welcome to my dreamhouse!” Enid exclaimed as she opened the door and ushered you into her room. You knew it might be ill-tempered to say this, but you were jealous of Enid’s room. You loved the giant window in the center that emitted different colors throughout the room, highlighting and contrasting the two drastically different sides.

You followed Enid to her side and sat down on her bed with her. You allowed the werewolf to paint your nails a dark purple. She asked you questions about your past and what you wanted to do in the future. You told her that Criminal Justice intrigued you and you thought about becoming a detective at some point. In turn, you asked her what her future plans were, and she told you that if her parents allowed her, she would want to explore the world and see all the beauties she offered.

After you two had fallen into a peaceful conversation, she finally asked the question plaguing her mind since you first arrived, “So, how did you get that scar? If you don’t mind me asking.”

You swore you could hear a hairpin drop right when you felt the moment stop. It was as if someone had sucked all the air out of the room and replaced it with tension. Your eyes shot to Wednesday, who was previously typing on her typewriter but stopped when Enid asked the question. You quietly cleared your throat before speaking, “I, uh… it was my fault. I did something stupid without asking for permission, and I paid the consequences. That’s all.”

Wednesday felt her heart shatter into a million pieces when she heard you blame yourself for what happened. She wanted to run to Enid’s side of the room and tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she would do anything she could to take it back, to have you back. She felt a single tear run down her cheek as she returned to her novel.

Not believing your story, Enid didn’t say anything else. She knew there was something more to the story, but she didn’t want to pressure you into telling her. “Well, I think it makes you look ten times hotter,” Enid confessed with a sly smile and a wink. She ignored how her hearing picked up on Wednesday’s heartbeat increased with jealousy at the comment.

You slightly chuckled at Enid’s comment before looking at Enid’s own scars that she sometimes tried to cover up. They were out of place on the brightly dressed girl, but it added a hint of toughness and bravery to her look that almost made you laugh. “What about your scars?” You politely asked, but Enid tensed up at your question.

“Oh. I got them from saving Wednesday last year,” she responded quietly as she continued painting your nails. She refused to meet your gaze, and you felt bad for asking about them, but you wanted to know more. “Why do you cover them up then? You shouldn’t be ashamed of your scars; they prove your loyalty to Wednesday.”

A slight grin tugged at Enid’s lips; she had never had anyone, but Wednesday tell her she was brave. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s just,” she paused as she glanced up at you before continuing her work on your hand, “my mother hates them and says I should be ashamed of myself for ruining any chance I have at finding someone.”

“You shouldn’t listen to your mother, Enid. I think those scars are beautiful, and they display your bravery,” you said as you reached up with your hand and gently traced the scar above Enid’s eyebrow. When a small tear fell down Enid’s cheek, you wiped it away and gave her a soft smile, and Enid knew right then that you were the most authentic person she had ever met. No one has ever been this honest with her, and she cherished your friendship.

Enid let a few quiet minutes pass by before she asked you about your first week at Nevermore, and you told her your honest thoughts. You enjoyed the classes but felt that some students cared too much about their social status and that you loved walking in the woods at night, causing the girl to stop painting your left ring finger.

“You do what at night?” Enid questioned harshly as her bright blue eyes stared into your soul.

“I go for midnight strolls by myself. Weems never told me not to.”

Enid scoffed at your words before glaring at Wednesday, who was working on her novel. “Wednesday is actually the reason we can’t walk around at night.”

At the mention of her name, Wednesday straightened her poster and turned around to face you two.

“Do not blame me for the shortcomings of the town sheriff for being unable to keep the people safe from his own son,” the goth girl stated in a threatening manner with an undertone of regret that you picked up on. You noticed the way Wednesday’s eyes seemed to gloss over with anger when she mentioned the sheriff’s son, and you could only assume something happened between them, which caused your heart to stink at the thought.

“I’m not blaming you, Wens. I’m just stating that you and your boy toy did play a part in ruining our time outside at night,” Enid said innocently as she went back to pairing your nails; she didn’t notice how you tensed up, and you're surprised that she didn’t hear your heart break in two. Your heartbroken eyes shoot to Wednesday’s pained ones, and you can practically read the thoughts behind her eyes, ‘I lost myself when I lost you.’

Even though you still had your eyes covered, Wednesday knew what you were thinking, ‘how could you betray me like this?’ You two were children when you last saw each other, but now as almost adults, you knew that all those feelings you felt for each other were more than platonic; it just took you two a lifetime and a half to realize it. As you two stared at each other, you felt all the love you once felt for each other return in an instant; feelings that come back are feelings that never left.

“‘Boy toy?’” You questioned as your eyes refused to leave Wednesday’s. You knew you would only get hurt by asking, but you had to know.

“It was a moment of weakness, Y/N. Nothing more,” Wednesday spoke with emotion for the first time as her voice broke off towards the end. She quickly cleared her throat and excused herself to the balcony with her cello before you had time to respond to her.

When Enid finished up your nails, you two were getting ready to do a face mask when she got a text. “Yes! Ajax just texted me to hang out with him! Is it alright if I leave you here? Or you can go back to your room if you want?” Enid asked as she stood up from her bed; you ignored the name at the top of her screen that read ‘Yoko.’

“I think I’m going to stay here for a while and hang out with Thing but go have fun,” you said with a faint smile as you watched Enid leave. Honestly, you missed Thing almost as much as you missed Wednesday. Anytime Wednesday would be away, and you were over, you would always hang out with Thing, and right now, he was definitely your favorite Addams.

You chatted with Thing over the sound of Wednesday’s cello for nearly twenty minutes as you did his nails and filled him in on what has happened to you in the past seven years. You told him stuff that you would be too afraid to share with Wednesday, not out of trust, but in fear of what she might do to the people that hurt you.

Only when Wednesday’s cello started to pick up and play a heavy melody did you stop talking. You listened to the way the smaller girl seemed to pour all of her emotions into her song, a song that was full of yearning, hurt, and regret. You listened as there was a slight shift in the music that resembled anger and frustration before turning into a declaration of love. And when the song finally ended on a note that sounded like longing, you got up and walked out to the balcony.

“That was a lovely song,” you said as you walked past Wednesday and rested your elbows against the balcony edge.

Wednesday gave you a quiet ‘mhm’ as a response as she set her cello to the side and joined you at the stone railing, making sure to keep five feet between you for homosexual purposes.

The two of you quietly enjoyed the starry night with a crescent moon above you.

“The sky is so beautiful tonight,” you said, gazing at the stars and moon with your sunglasses still on.

“It is,” Wednesday agreed, but she wasn’t looking up at the sky at all.

When you looked down at Wednesday, she was already staring at you with a tiny glint in her eyes. She subconsciously moved closer to you til she was standing a few inches away from you, and she slowly reached her hands up to take your glasses off. You turned to face her, quickly backing away, and put a foot between you two, “the fuck are you doing?”

“Take it off,” Wednesday stated in a dry tone.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because this ‘nerdy girl takes off her glasses and everyone finds out she’s actually really hot’ will not work on you,” you replied with sass in your voice.

“No, it won’t because you are not attractive in the slightest way,” Wednesday retorted while still staring into your soul.

“Thank you, Addams.”

“It wasn’t a compliment.”

“I know,” you said with a smile as you turned and leaned your elbows on the railing once more and continued staring at the stars. “You are my compact companion, after all,” you teased.

Wednesday rolled her eyes at comment; it felt like it was a lifetime again when she would call you that, and now you turned it against her. She had to agree with you, it was an awful nickname.

“All the pretty stars shine for you, my love,” you said after a couple of minutes had passed. “it’s from a song,” you added to clear up any confusion that might have been stirred.

Wednesday looked over at you, but you still had your eyes fixed on the sky, but she noticed how your hand slowly inched toward her own, and she picked up on the double meaning as she placed her palm over the back of your hand. She gave your hand three gentle squeezes before returning inside with her cello.

After that night, you two continued with your rivalry, of course, but something had changed that worried Wednesday. She didn’t know what that change was, but she felt it like a gentle shift in the air before a big storm; she knew something had changed between you two, but she didn’t know what.

On Tuesday of the following week, Nevermore was hosting an archery tournament that lasted all day that you and Wednesday were competing in. As the day dragged out, numerous Nevermore students were booted from the competition, and when it came down to the final two competitors, no one was surprised when they saw you line up next to Wednesday.

“I think I’ve seen this film before,” you said as you grabbed an arrow and notched it before slightly pulling back on the string. The memories of your last archery competition came flooding back as you watched the beautiful girl to the left of you grab an arrow.

“And I didn’t like the ending,” Wednesday finished as she notched her arrow, drew, and let it loose, nailing the target's bullseye. You scoffed at her words before drawing back your arrow and firing, hitting the bullseye a few centimeters away from Wednesday’s.

As the contest continued, you and Wednesday engaged in a back-and-forth display of remarkable archery skills. Each shot was precise, and the competition grew fiercer with every arrow released. The crowd of students that had formed around you two was captivated, witnessing a display of talent that would mold the archery competitions of Nevermore for ages.

As the final round approached, you and Wednesday were neck and neck. The tension was palpable, and the spectators held their breath in anticipation. You looked over your left shoulder at Wednesday as you notched and drew your arrow. The smaller girl’s eyes stared into your covered ones, and you saw the way her eyes danced across your face as if she was trying to place a curse on you.

With a shaky breath, you turned away from Wednesday and looked at your target before you slightly lowered the tip of your bow; it was so unnoticeable that no one picked up on it besides the girl who was soul bound to you.

You let the arrow loose and smiled slightly when you saw it hit the outer ring. Wednesday sent you a slight glance before drawing back on her arrow and letting it fly, nailing it right in the center of the bullseye.

The crowd around them let out a few cheers and applause as Weems got the trophies ready. “I knew you could do it, roomie!” Enid exclaimed as she skipped over to Wednesday and gently shook the girl’s shoulders. Wednesday nodded her head at Enid before she walked onto the makeshift sports pedestal podium for first and second. She stepped onto the stage for first and watched as you stood on the one for second, and you sent her a smile that confirmed everything she needed: you threw the match for her.

When Weems handed you two your trophies, you had a giant smile as people took your picture, while Wednesday bore an uncomfortable expression.

“I appear to be the victor,” Wednesday said as you two walked back to Ophelia Hall together. The sun was just setting, and the light seeped into the hallway, creating a romantic lighting that seemed a bit on the nose for you.

“It appears so,” you replied with a gentle smile as you flipped your trophy around and read the words “2nd place winner” underneath your name.

Wednesday scoffed at your comment before glaring up at your towering figure. “You aren’t going to finish the saying?”

You tapped your pointer finger on your chin, acting as if you were thinking profoundly. “Why would I? You didn’t cheat,” you said honestly and dropped your hand back down to your side.

“No, but you threw the match,” Wednesday said as she approached her door with you a few paces behind her. She wanted nothing more than to bring you inside and cherish you, but she would never stoop to her mother’s way of life.

“If I am capable of such an outlandish thing, I’m sure I would not do that just so you-of all people-could win,” you said with a serious tone but your smile told Wednesday you were joking and it made her cold, black heart ache for something for had felt once and only with you.

Deciding against her better judgment, Wednesday set her trophy on the ground, and before you had time to ask her what she was doing, her left hand gently grabbed your neck and pulled down as she stood on her tippy-toes to place a chaste kiss on your cheek. Your entire body heated up at the contact, and a smile overtook your face. The kiss lasted longer than it should have, as Wednesday’s lips lingered on your cheek as if she was making you a promise that she would one day taste your lips.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Wednesday said as she picked up her trophy and entered her room, closing the door on your shell-shocked expression. You had butterflies dancing in your stomach as you walked back to your room with a gentle smile on your face and went to sleep with the thought of Wednesday’s lips against your skin. As you drifted off to sleep, Wednesday stayed up all night writing out the way you made her stomach feel like a thousand spiders lived there and the way your hair warmed her black heart. She once vowed to push you away to avoid the pain of losing you, but every waking moment she spent without you had caused her to feel that pain tenfold. Even if she would lose you at the end of your lives, at least she would have had the honor of calling you hers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The eerie gothic ballroom was cloaked in darkness, dimly lit by flickering candlelight that cast haunting shadows upon the ancient stone walls. Heavy velvet drapes, tinged with a rich deep crimson, adorned the tall arched windows, adding a sense of mystery and opulence. Gothic-style chandeliers hung from the vaulted ceilings, their twisted metal work resembling gnarled branches, and their candelabras emitting a spectral glow. The air is filled with a subtle scent of incense, adding to the mysterious ambiance of the room as Wednesday prepared to entire the ballroom.

It was the Grimoire Soiree, Nevermore’s official gothic ball, that was hosted at the end of the Fall semester every year. Wednesday was naturally intrigued when she heard of a gothic ball and believed attending one might add a new element to her novel, including murder. Still, now, as she watched her peers walk into the ballroom, she felt out of place. Her heart yearned for the one who wouldn’t be attending.

It had been several months since the archery contest, and you and Wednesday had not talked to each other. Neither of you knew what to say, but you both wanted to say everything. You two continued with your rivalry, but there was a shift in the air when you two competed against each other, like you two were silently rooting for the other, and it gnawed at both of your hearts.

Deciding to face the music and the calling of her heart, Wednesday walked down the stairs and entered the room.

The polished black marble floors, etched with intricate patterns, mirror the gloomy setting as if reflecting the dark secrets concealed within the ballroom's history that enticed Wednesday. Elaborate gargoyles and stone statues of long-forgotten figures stood sentinel in the corners, their solemn expressions lending an air of solemnity to the space. Crimson roses, tinged with black, were carefully arranged in vases throughout the room, their haunting beauty contrasting with the darkness surrounding them.

As the haunting melody of a haunting organ filled the air, the students of Nevermore were clad in elaborate gothic attire and moved with an aura of elegance and enigma. The atmosphere was both haunting and enchanting, transporting the attendees to a realm of forgotten tales and otherworldly delights that overwhelmed Wednesday. Just as she was about to leave, an overly happy voice exclaimed, “Wednesday! You look amazing!”

The smaller girl wore a mesmerizing black gothic ball gown that is a sight of dark enchantment, featuring a flowing skirt that gracefully grazes the ground. Small black accents on the skirt add a touch of intricate detailing, enhancing its allure. The black corset, elegantly laced in the front, complements the gown's bewitching aesthetic and leads to long, puffy sleeves that exude an air of Victorian charm.

A small cutout on the chest, just above the corset, added a daring yet sophisticated touch, leaving a hint of mystery while maintaining an elegant appeal. The gown encapsulated a perfect blend of gothic elegance and captivating allure, making it an ideal choice for Wednesday's hauntingly beautiful ballroom event.

Wednesday turned around, and she noticed that her flamboyant roommate, who usually wore bright, borderline blinding colors, was in a darker-colored ball gown. The ball gown itself was a mesmerizing creation, enveloped in an enchanting dark purple hue that exudes an air of mystery and sophistication. It had a black corset adorned with dark purple accents that added an element of striking contrast, enhancing its captivating allure. Its intricate lacework and velvet accents add an extra layer of elegance. At the same time, its flowing silhouette gracefully captures the essence of gothic charm, something that Wednesday had never seen on Enid before.

The gown caught Wednesday off guard, and she believed that Enid somehow pulled it off, highlighting her piercing blue eyes that would blind anyone. Wednesday might have even given Enid some form of a compliment, but she knew that Enid didn’t need that kind of ego inflation.

“I appreciate your words, Enid. And you,” Wednesday wanted to be nice tonight but struggled with the words, “Do not look ridiculous.”

The werewolf beamed at her roommate's words, and a smile formed from cheek to cheek. “Awww! Thank you, Wens!” Enid said as she turned to walk toward Ajax but then suddenly turned back to Wednesday as if she had forgotten something. “Oh, and your lover was looking for you earlier; she said she has something to tell you.” And with that, Enid disappeared into the crowd of dancing students with Ajax. Wednesday’s cold heart picked up at the mention of you wanting to talk to her and beat rapidly against her chest. Her eyes scanned the room for you as an all too familiar saxophone interrupted the organ.

As if it was magic, Wednesday’s dark eyes immediately found your heterochromia ones in the vast sea of swirling gowns and powdered faces. You were standing on the opposite side of the room, wearing a gothic suit that consisted of a slightly ruffled white shirt, adding a touch of romanticism to the ensemble. Over the shirt, there was a black cavalier vest adorned with mesmerizing purple tapestry, creating a captivating contrast of colors and textures. Completing the look was a sleek black jacket, lending an air of sophistication and dark allure. The suit is further enhanced by a small yet elegant collar chain featuring a black scorpion on both collars, adding a subtle yet distinctive element of gothic charm to the overall attire.

Put on your Bobbi-sox baby

Pull up your old blue jeans

There’s a band playin’ down at the armory

Know’s what rock and roll really means

You two gravitated towards each other at a slow pace before picking up as your hearts quickened with excitement, and soon, you two were standing face to face. “Hi,” you said breathlessly as you got lost in Wednesday’s eyes.

“Hi,” she replied as she looked into your beautiful eyes for the first time in seven years. She had forgotten just how beautiful they were; the green eye seemed to dance with the room's lighting while the gray one gave Wednesday a feeling of comfort, the dark color reminding her of her own material home in New Jersey.

I want to bop with you baby, all night long

I want to bop the night away

I want to make it a night like it used to be

“May I have this dance?” You asked as you slowly started to do ‘The Twist’ from Pulp Fiction. Wednesday smiled and began doing Uma Thurman’s part of the dance as if you two were just six years old again and dancing in Wednesday’s room. You two smiled and joked the entire dance and felt the whole room disappear as the song drew to a close. “Shall we dance again, my fair lady?” You asked when the dance was finished as you stuck out your hand and slightly bowed, just as you did ten years ago.

“You’re exhausting,” Wednesday replied when the room began waltzing to the beautiful melody of ‘Merry-Go-Round of Life,’ but she took your hand. You placed your free hand just underneath her shoulder blade as her spare hand rested upon the shoulder of the arm that was under her shoulder blade. As the music played, Wednesday allowed you to lead the dance and found herself in a trance as she stared into your beautiful eyes that she missed.

“Stop staring into my soul,” you commented as you spun around with Wednesday.

She huffed at your words and playfully stepped on your foot before continuing the dance. “I’m not staring into your soul; I am just admiring your breathtaking eyes,” she confessed honestly while you two continued your fluid movements. “Why did you start covering them again?”

You tensed up at her words but continued with the graceful dance. “The only person who found beauty in them was gone,” you said shyly as you gave Wednesday a tight-lipped smile. The smaller girl frowned at your words; she didn’t know what to say without confessing her undying love for you. So she stayed quiet and let her eyes drift over to the scar on your face and let regret and pain wash over her like waves on the shoreline. “I never meant to hurt you,” Wednesday mumbled out as she let the pain show on her face. You were her best friend, her soulmate, and her home, and even though she didn’t know that it was either you or no one when she was just a child, she now wanted to wrap you in her arms and never let anything or anyone harm you again; even if that meant protecting you from herself.

So, she dropped your hand while dancing and left you out there standing. Crestfallen on the landing as Wednesday left you in the ballroom and disappeared outside.

You snapped out of your disappointed state and were quick on her heels as you followed her outside. “Wednesday, what’s wrong?” You asked as you followed her to a water fountain and watched her sit down on the side.

She was sick to her stomach; she could hear her heartbeat pounding in her ears as she had an internal battle with her heart and brain. Her brain told Wednesday to run in the opposite direction, never to talk to you again. But her heart was telling her to run toward you, to embrace you with her loving heart that seemed to only beat for you. She felt nauseous as her thoughts bounced around; what if you didn’t feel the same way toward her? The last time you two were friendly with each other was almost eleven years ago when you guys were six. What if by showing you this much softer side of her, you reject her and use her weakness as a spear to her chest? Nearly killing her but leaving her alive just enough to continue living a life of nothingness. Your heart was glass, and she dropped it.

But what if you felt the same? What if your heart only beat for her, and you would rather die than not have been able to call her yours? All the moments you two spent at each other’s throats during competitions as you sent her little glances and silently prayed she would win so that you could see her eyes light up.

“Enid said you had something to say to me, Y/N,” Wednesday finally spoke as her thoughts ran rapidly in her mind. She needed to know what you wanted to say to her; she could not die in peace without knowing.

You stared at the alluring girl who refused to meet your eyes. There were thousands of things you wanted to tell her, but you didn’t know how. “Wednesday, there’s things I wanna say to you, but I’ll just let you live,” you said quietly as Wednesday’s eyes finally met yours. Wednesday dryly laughed at your words as her eyes glossed over with tears. The last time she had cried was because she lost you, and now, she was crying because she had finally found you. All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation, was killing her. Wednesday’s hands were shaking from holding back from you. When you said her name, everything just stopped; she didn’t want you like a best friend.

Wednesday’s eyes darted across your face, looking for anything resembling rejection. When she found only love and longing in your ocean eyes, she took in a deep breath and spoke in a broken voice, “I used to look at you and see my best friend, and now I can hardly look at you without picturing our bones resting together in a grave dug for two. I left you in there because I cannot live without knowing if it meant more to you too as well. I would rather die than bear these feelings alone.”

The words that left Wednesday’s lips took you off guard; you had a speech, and now you’re speechless. “What do you mean by that, Wednesday? Are you telling me that you have feelings for me?” You asked with disbelief on your face; you needed to know if she was confessing her love for you, but you weren’t quite sure if that’s what she meant.

“The sun rises and sets with your smile. At least it does for me. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. In simpler terms: I want you. I’ve always wanted you. It just took me ten years to realize it. I’m your jazz singer, and you’re my cult leader,” Wednesday confessed as she stared into your eyes, already accepting rejection.

“Wednesday, you don’t have to bear those feelings alone,” you stated with a sigh of relief. Wednesday’s eyes smiled for her as she pushed herself off the fountain, and slowly walked toward you. She stopped a few feet in front, giving you space to run away if you desired.

“I once had someone tell me I was destined to be alone, but I would like to be alone with you. If I’m enough - if you want me, if you’ll have me - I’m yours, only yours, Y/N,” Wednesday admitted with a silent prayer.

“Wednesday, I have only wanted you since we were kids. I only wanted you as a best friend then, but now, when I look at you, I only see my other half. I would rather die than not be able to call you mine, even if it’s just for a second.”

Slowly, Wednesday stepped to you until you were close enough to touch, begging you to make the first move she has always been afraid to take. “For the past ten years, I have been trying to form a way to apologize for the way I treated you, but every time I come up with something, I only see you in that hospital bed,” Wednesday admitted.

You gently reached out to Wednesday’s hand and brought it to your cheek. You gave a small kiss on the palm of her hand before moving it to cup your cheek as your free hand wiped away the lone tear that fell down Wednesday’s cheek. “I forgive you, Wednesday. I had forgiven you the moment I moved; I thought I would never see you again,” you whispered with tears in your eyes as you brought your forehead against Wednesday’s.

Wednesday sighed in relief as she brought up her other hand and cupped your cheeks. You pulled back from her, and Wednesday wanted to cry. You placed a kiss on her forehead that felt like a promise, then kissed her nose, silently telling her everything will be alright, another on her cheek that felt like you would wait however long for her, and finally, you kissed her lips with so much love Wednesday almost died. She let a small, choked-up gasp escape her lips before gently kissing you back. For the first time in ten years, you both finally felt at home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A blanket of snow fell upon the Addams’ residence that coated the peaceful house as Morticia Addams shot up in bed. She gasped for breath as her eyes panicky shot around the room.

The action woke Gomez up, and he reached over to the bedside table to turn on the lamp before reaching out to his wife. “Cara mia, what’s wrong?” He asked with worry laced in his voice, but his worry faded when he saw a giant smile plastered on Morticia’s face that accompanied the tears of joy in her eyes.

She wrapped her arms around her husband and pulled him against her, in complete disbelief at the vision she just had of her daughter. She pulled back from the embrace before exclaiming, “Our darling viper has found someone to share her grave with!”

Gomez lit up with excitement at the mention of Wednesday having a lover; words could not express his joy when his daughter finally fell to the Addams Family Curse. “My love, this is dreadful news! I cannot wait to meet them,” he said with a smile on his face.

Morticia laughed at her husband's words before placing a hand on his cheek and stroking it with her thumb. “Don’t worry, Gomez. You have known her since she was a child.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: if you recognized ‘the sun rises and sets with your smile’ quote, I love you so much 🫶

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…”

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.

QUE HOMEM LINDO MEU DEUS!!!!

Tom Hiddleston in The Essex Serpent (2022) (S01E05 - S01E06)

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.

-ℙ𝕦𝕝𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕦𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕦𝕤-

part 1 - part 2 - part 3

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pairings - jennaortega x fem!reader

summary - sweet moment with your favorite girl

warnings - none

an - missed writing for my Rechazame series, so i wanted to bring back our ever favorite personal assistant R

——————————

You groaned, throwing an arm over your face to shield your eyes from the bright sun. 

It was an early morning, birds chirping and dogs barking as the world began to wake up. Thankfully it was Saturday, which meant you didn’t have work and could sleep in as long as you want. 

You rolled onto your side, blinding reaching around in front of you to find the warmth of your girlfriend, only to be met with the dip of a mattress and cold sheets. 

You peeled your eyes open, squinting to see around the sun-filled room. Everything looked normal, bookshelf filled with a multitude of literature, closet open and presenting the pale arrangement of clothes you and your girlfriend owned, and the bathroom door wide open, the sound of someone humming a small tune sneaking out. 

Your body moved, arms pushing you up and out of bed. Once your feet hit the floor, you closed your eyes and took a big stretch, sighing when your back popped pleasently. After you cracked your neck, you moved towards the bathroom in just your boxers and a sports bra, and you were greeted with the smell of vanilla and coconut bodywash wafting through the open door. 

On the edge of the bathtub your girlfriend sat, facing away from you as she shaved her legs. The room was warm and a tad bit humid, clear signs of Jenna taking her routine shower that she does almost every morning. The light from the sun was creating a golden hue on her skin, her features seeming to glow from your perspective.

She wore a white t-shirt, black shorts, and her signature black headphones, nodding her head along to whatever song that was playing in her ears. You stood for a moment, taking in the fact that you could admire here without her knowing. 

After a few more seconds of silent ogling, you moved towards the sink, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste to start your day. You scrubbed away the grime and bad breath, rinsing your mouth with a cup of sink water before gurgling it and spitting it out into the basin. 

You glanced towards Jenna, noticing that she still hasn’t turned around or noticed you yet, so with a small smirk of deviancy on your face, you reached and took her jaw in your fingers. She jumped at your touch, brown eyes looking up just in time to catch you leaning in to press your lips to her cheek. 

You kissed her warm skin, inhaling her bodywash with a pleasant sigh. She smelled sweet, and just like how she always smells like. A small giggle escapes her mouth at the feeling of your breath on her skin, causing you to smile. You pulled away, gently caressing her shoulder with your hand as a silent ‘hello’ before you left the bathroom and headed for your closet. 

Not sure of what to wear, you decided on some grey sweats and a plain white tank top. You easily threw each garment on, and was now reaching up to grab some slippers from the top shelf. Unnoticed by you, Jenna walked in and slid under your outstretched arms, wrapping her arms around your waist to gain your attention.

You looked down, catching her looking at you fondly before she stood up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to yours. You responded immediately, hands dropping down to cup her face. Your thumbs rubbed on her soft skin, pulling her closer and letting yourself melt into her hold. She tasted delicious, her cherry chapstick soothing your own dry lips from just waking up. 

“G’mornin’.” You mumbled, giving her lips and forehead a peck before reaching up for the slippers, “Did you sleep well?”

“Mhm, I did.” She replied, letting go of your waist so she could take her slippers from you, “Did you?”

“Yeah, I think I fell asleep on top of you.” You said, sliding the comfy shoes on your feet.

“You did, we never finished that movie because of it.” Jenna giggled, sliding to stand in between your open knees, “It’s fine though, I got to cuddle you.”

You snorted, leaning back up to meet her eyes. She was already staring at you, her hands coming up to cup your cheeks. You leaned into her palm with a sigh, letting your eyes close at the feeling of her soft touch. She cooed at you, choosing to thread her fingers into your hair to detangle its morning mess. 

Her nails scratched at your scalp, massaging and relaxing you quite quickly. She expertly removed all the knots from your hair, knowing the tricks on detangling your fluffy locks. Once she finished, you wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her in to you.

Your face buried in her stomach, practically purring at the warmth she provided. She cradled your head, leaning down to kiss your ruffled hair. You sighed in contentment, happy that she was here and holding you.

“Do you want breakfast?” You asked, leaning your head back to look at her, “I can make you something.”

She mumbled a ‘yes please’ but didn’t let go of you, instead pulling herself into your lap so she could rest her head on your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta let me go so I can go cook.” You chuckled, holding her thighs.

“No.” She said, burrowing herself further into your shirt.

You smiled, patting her butt lightly before standing up with her in your arms. She wrapped her legs around your waist, tightening her hold on your neck before you took a step. Your hands slid under her thighs, giving her some extra support to hang onto you while you walked to the kitchen.

“Okay beautiful.” You said, setting her down on the counter, “What do you want to eat?”

“Pancakes.” Jenna stated, swinging her feet while she stared at you lovingly.

“Pancakes.” You repeated, leaning in to give her a quick kiss before getting to work on making the requested dish.

You moved swiftly, pulling all the ingredients together and creating the batter in less than ten minutes. Soon, the pancakes were cooked and crisped to perfection, looking quite fluffy on the plate when you handed to Jenna.

“For the girl that looks so gorgeous on this fine evening.” You said cheekily, sliding the plate towards her and leaning in to nuzzle her cheek with your nose.

She laughed, taking the plate whilst blushing heavily. Carefully, she stabbed it with her fork and ate a piece, sighing in satisfaction at the sweet taste on her tongue.

“It’s delicious baby.” She praised, taking another bite, “So yummy.”

You internally high-fived yourself for being such a damn good cook for your girlfriend. She always loved what you created in the kitchen, and you loved having the label of the masc bisexual housewife; it just felt right to you.

“Here, eat.” Jenna said, holding up her fork to you.

You complied, opening your mouth so she could feed you. The pancake was perfect, fluffy and sweet with just the right amount of chocolate chips.

You really outdid yourself.

“Mmmm.” You nodded, happy with the salivating taste, “That’s good.”

“It’s cause my beautiful girl made it.” Jenna cooed, reaching out to pinch your cheeks.

You flushed red, shaking your head at her comment. She just laughed at you, hiding her smile with her hand while she did. You grinned, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving little pecks all over her face. It felt perfect, just you and her giggling as the sun rose on your love.

Just how Jenna wanted it to be.

———————

taglist: @cartierdreamx@tundra1029@red1culous@vorsdany@andsoigotabutterfly@theafterofnevermore@yomomisgay@house-of-lovin@slvt4lanadelrey@thenextdawn@nepobaby08@dunohilly@somekindofpoet@alexkolax@cinffy23@pedrosprincess@amberfreemansburntface@myfturn

- 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.

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.

Yoko: Enid’s coming. Act natural

Wednesday:

Miller's Girl (2024) dir. Jade Bartlett