𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 Wednesday Addams X Vampire Reader

M A S T E R L I S T

Sam Carpenter

Off the deep end Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Jealousy

First time mom Sam headcanons

Sam with taller Reader

Sam with Prescott!Reader

NSFW drabble

NSFW drabble 2

Tara Carpenter

🎥 girl Part 2 Headcanons

Angel

Infidelity drabble

Dookie the Matchmaker drabble

Pillow princess Tara headcanons

Amber Freeman

Infidelity drabble

Avengers

Owned Part 2 Part 3

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

Perks of the job Part 2

WandaNat

Professional help

Natasha Romanoff

Patience is a virtue

A friend in need is a friend indeed

Heaven in hiding

Wanda Maximoff

Let the world burn

Used

Wednesday Addams

Wisdom teeth

Little death

Jenna Ortega

Just to be clear

Scarlett Johansson

All the things she said

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

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

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

Luck Runs Out |Part 3|

Pairing: Mabel x Reader

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

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.7k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry?”

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

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

“You don’t remember?” She questioned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m not a drug smuggler. I’m just-”

“Someone who smuggles drugs?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh,” you could only mumble.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her eyes widened. “You mean…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re on the boat.”

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

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

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

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

“It’s both!”

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

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

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

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

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

》ʟᴀsᴛ ᴋɪss《

Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday glared, “Both.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

»────◦•✗•◦────«

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

»────◦•✗•◦────«

Jamie Speaks:

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

How does one even write a sad fic?

WH0 R U 2???

Summary: Tara wakes up at her attractive Professor’s home.

Warnings: 18+ smut, g!p reader (literally think r is a service top??? idk? sorry for the dom’s & subs 😭)

A/N: pt.3 will not but smutty but bloody (there are different ghostfaces who r y’all suspecting?) also the smut scene was inspired by my b-day gift @wol-fica i love u

part 1

Tara woke up with the world's biggest headache. When she sat up in the random bed she had just awakened in, she realized she was in a completely unfamiliar room. The walls were white, with some paintings here and there, and the room was filled with a faint scent of lavender.

Tara left the bed, her head pounding with each step she took. She stumbled towards the door, trying to remember how she ended up in this strange place.

As she makes her way down the hallway, coffee begins to fill her nostrils. She follows the scent and finds herself in a cozy kitchen, where a pot of freshly brewed coffee sits on the counter. "You're awake, a voice says from behind her.

Startled, Tara turns around to see her professor, and suddenly, all of her memories rush back to her.

"Leaving already?" Frankie asks, raising an eyebrow. Tara hesitates, unsure of how to respond. She just nods, "Yeah, my... my rides here." Frankie keeps his gaze fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Tara can feel the weight of his scrutiny, making her even more uncomfortable.

"Oh damn, well, let me walk you out." Frankie offers, breaking the silence. Tara's heart races as they make their way towards the exit, unsure of what's going on. It was obvious Frankie wanted to get into her pants; he'd been following her the entire night.

You notice Tara at the exit, looking slightly flustered and uneasy. You quickly exit your car and walk to her. "You're her ride?" A brown-haired boy asks you.

"Yeah, I'm her ride," you confirm, giving the boy a curious look. The brown-haired boy gives you a skeptical look before reluctantly stepping aside, allowing you to approach Tara. As you reach her side, you offer a reassuring smile, hoping to ease her discomfort.

Tara's eyes drop to your attire, taking in your sleepwear. A wife-beater and black boxers that matched your black Nike socks. You notice this, "Sorry, I just woke up about five minutes ago."

"All good...Professor." Tara smiles. You shake your head, "Y/N is just fine. You're in my kitchen, after all. No need for formalities." Tara blushes and nods, "Right, sorry. Y/N it is then."

You chuckle softly, "No need to apologize, Tara. Can I offer you some coffee?" Tara gratefully accepts the offer, "I could definitely use a cup. Thank you, Y/N." She takes a seat at the kitchen table as you start pouring a fresh cup of coffee.

"Do you need me to drop you off?" Tara tries to take a sip of her coffee, but it's too hot, causing her to wince in pain spilling a bit on her hand. "Shit! That's hot!" Tara exclaims, quickly pulling her hand away from the cup. You rush to grab a napkin, softly grasping her hand and gently wiping away the spilled coffee.

"But, um, yeah, I'd love a ride if you don't mind," Tara mutters, ignoring the fluttering of her heart as you touch her hand. She tries to hide her blush by taking a deep breath and looking away, but the warmth of your touch lingers.

"Of course." Your phone begins ringing, interrupting the moment. You quickly apologize and grab your phone from the kitchen counter. You answer the phone without looking at the caller ID. A deep voice on the other end of the line.

"Hello, Y/N." You scratch your head, trying to place the voice. It sounds vaguely familiar, but you can't quite place it.

The voice clears its throat, and your ear is soon filled with Laura's laugh. "Haven't you watched Stab?"

"Ohhh! Yeah, I just did yesterday." You chuckle, realizing that the deep voice was an imitation of a character from the movie. "How's your mom? She doing better?"

Laura's laughter subsides as she replies, "She's slowly recovering, thanks for asking. The doctors say she should be back on her feet in a few weeks." You feel relieved to hear the positive update about Laura's mom and express your well wishes for her continued recovery.

"Anywho! I was just calling because I wanted to know how your first lecture was. Did everyone behave?"

You chuckle and respond, "Well, it was definitely an interesting experience. The students were well-behaved, and I was actually surprised by their level of engagement. It seems like they're all eager to learn and participate in class discussions."

Laura hums over the phone, "Are you sure you're talking about my students?" You laugh and say, "Seriously. They were great." Laura pauses for a moment before replying, "That's good...I have to go now, take care, Y/N."

You bid Laura farewell and promise to keep her updated on any future classroom developments. Tara speaks up when you set down your phone, "Was that Professor Crane?" You nod and say, "Yes, it was. She was just checking in on you guys."

Tara nods, taking a sip of her now slightly cooled-down coffee. "I'm going to take a shower, and I'll be back in a bit. Let me know whenever you're ready to leave."

"Wait, uh, do you know where my phone is?" Tara asks, glancing around the room. You remember plugging it up near the kitchen counter when you arrived home yesterday.

You point towards the kitchen counter and say, "I think it's over there, by the sink." Tara thanks you and heads towards the kitchen to retrieve it, but her head turns as she watches you leave the room, pulling your tank top over your head, revealing your toned back.

Blushing slightly, Tara quickly averts her gaze and focuses on finding her phone.

When Tara finally finds her phone, she realizes that she has missed several calls and messages, mostly from Sam.

But her heart truly drops when she realizes your name is at the top of her messages, remembering that she did indeed text you drunk the previous night.

Tara's mind races as she tries to recall what she said, hoping she hasn't embarrassed herself or said anything inappropriate. "You've got to be kidding me."

Tara mutters under her breath, scrolling through her messages with you. This was so embarrassing, and she couldn't believe she had let herself get so out of control.

"The hot professor whose filling in for Ms.Crane? What the fuck?" Tara's eyes widen in disbelief as she reads her own words. She had confessed her attraction to her substitute professor, not realizing how much she had revealed in her drunken state. Panic sets in as she wonders what your reaction to the message might have been.

Tara's phone dings, indicating a new message.

Mindy: Tara where the hell r u?

Mindy:  Sam is literally is losing her marbles

Shit.

Tara: im about to leave in about 15 minutes

Mindy: that didn't answer my question lollll

Tara: just tell sam im on the way

Mindy: omg you're at professor y/ln's house

Tara's heart races as she reads Mindy's message. How did Mindy know she was at your house? She quickly types a response, trying to come up with something to get Mindy off her back. 

Tara: wtf? no?

Tara: ill ttyl

-

The next couple of months consisted of Tara staying back after every lecture to talk to you. Now, you didn't exactly mind, but it did make you wonder why she was suddenly so interested in your company. Tara wouldn't talk about her studies, rather, she would ask you about your personal life, your hobbies, and your opinions on various topics.

Or whenever you'd be leaving campus or just arriving, Tara would leave her friends, jog over to you, and strike up a conversation. It seemed like she always found a reason to be near you, whether it was wanting to walk together or simply to share a funny story. Her genuine interest in getting to know you better was both flattering and intriguing.

"That's all for today, guys." You tell the class, packing up your things. Everyone begins leaving—well, everyone except for Tara. You shuffle your papers together, double-checking that you have everything, before looking up to find Tara still standing by your desk.

"Did you watch The Hereditary?" She had mentioned the movie a few times before, and you could tell she really wanted you to watch it. You smile and reply, "Yes, I did! Scared the shit out of me."

Tara laughs, "I thought you said you liked scary movies?" You begin walking toward the door. "I do!"

"What's your favorite scary movie?" Tara asks, genuinely curious. You pause for a moment, thinking of all the horror films you've seen over the years. "Hmm, that's a tough one," you say, pondering. "Maybe Chucky."

"You're joking," Tara says, raising an eyebrow. "Chucky? The killer doll? That's more of a cheesy horror movie than a scary one." You shrug and defend your choice. "Well, it scared me when I was younger. Plus, it has that nostalgic factor for me."

Tara chuckles and shakes her head playfully, saying, "Alright, if you say so. But I'll have to introduce you to some truly terrifying films one day."

You smile, holding the door open for the shorter girl. "Sure, T." Tara ignores the fluttering in her stomach at the nickname, striking up another conversation. "You heading home?"

You nod and reply, "Yeah, I was planning on making this salmon dish I found a recipe for. The sauce is supposed to be really flavorful, and I've been craving seafood lately." Tara hums, "Sounds fun."

You pause your walk, making eye contact with your student. "Maybe you could come...?"

Tara's eyes widen with surprise, but a smile tugs at the corners of her lips. "That sounds like a plan," she says, "What time?"

You check your watch and say, "How about around 7 p.m.? That should give me enough time to prepare everything." Tara nods eagerly, "Okay." You thank her and continue walking, "See you, T."

-

You were more than tipsy, this might have been the most fun you've had in a while. "I feel like a bad influence." You joke to Tara, pouring her another glass of wine. Tara laughs, "You're a perfect influence. You know how to have a good time."

You shake your head, standing up. "You can sit in the living room, I'm just gonna clear the table." Tara smiles and takes a sip of her wine. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you clean up."

Tara sets down her glass, standing up and helping you gather the dirty dishes and leftover food. Everything about this feels so domestic like you two are a married couple tidying up after a dinner party.

You start washing the dishes while Tara dries them and puts them away. The conversation flows effortlessly, making the task feel less like a chore and more like a shared experience.

On the last plate, you splash some soapy water onto Tara's shirt, causing her to let out a surprised gasp. "Oops, sorry about that!" you jokingly apologize, grinning mischievously.

Tara playfully flicks some water back at you, making you let out a laugh. "Oh, it's on now!" you exclaim, grabbing a nearby dish towel and flicking it towards Tara.

Tara runs out of the kitchen, laughing and dodging the dish towel, her wet shirt clinging to her as she goes. You turn off the water and chase after her, determined to catch her. While you reach the living room, Tara takes a sharp turn, causing you to stumble for a moment.

You quickly regain your balance and continue the chase, both of you enjoying the playful pursuit.

"I give up!" Tara calls out, breathless and giggling, as she collapses onto the couch. You slow down and join her, catching your breath and collapsing beside her.

You glance at her shirt, "Do you want one of my shirts?" Tara looks down at her damp shirt and shakes her head, still catching her breath. "No, I think I'll be fine," she replies with a smile.

Your eyes fall back on Tara, her cheeks flushed and her hair slightly disheveled from the chase. You know you shouldn't be thinking about your student in this way, but it's hard to ignore the undeniable chemistry between you. And she was absolutely gorgeous.

You're caught up in your thoughts, you don't even notice how your body is subconsciously scooting closer to her, until your knees are almost touching. The air between you feels charged with tension, and you can't help but wonder if she feels it too.

A part of you wants to reach out and brush a strand of hair behind her ear, but professional boundaries hold you back.

Tara turns her head slightly, her eyes meeting yours, and for a moment, you both share a knowing smile. Fuck, why did she have to look at you like that?

The intensity of the moment lingers, making it difficult to focus on anything else. You find yourself questioning the consequences of acting on this undeniable connection.

Tara leans in, and you follow behind slowly. You don't notice what you're doing until your noses brush against each other, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

Tara parts her lips slightly, her warm breath tickling your skin. You place a hand on her leg, closing the distance between you. Your lips meet in a passionate and electrifying kiss, leaving you breathless and craving more.

You place your hand on Tara's waist, pulling her closer to you and allowing her to straddle you. Tara can't help but respond, her hands finding their way to your hair as she pulls you in even closer.

When you pull away, your heart is racing as if you had just run a marathon. You knew what you were doing was wrong, but in that moment, it felt so right. The chemistry between you and Tara was undeniable, and the desire for each other was too strong to resist.

Your hand rises to Tara's face, your thumb tracing over her soft, plump lips. She closes her eyes, and a moan escapes her mouth. You kiss her lightly, your tongue tracing the outline of her mouth. She responds with a slow, passionate kiss, her lips trembling as you pull away.

"Please," she mumbles, grinding her hips against yours. "Fuck, T." What was this girl doing to you? Without hesitation, you capture her lips once more, this time with an electrifying fervor that leaves you both breathless. In that moment, you knew that there was no going back, you were stuck under her spell.

Your hands slither under her shirt, exploring the curves of her body, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. She moans softly, encouraging you to continue your exploration, and you do.

Skillfully, you unclasp her bra, and your fingers trace the outline of her breasts, teasing and caressing every inch of her sensitive skin. She arches her back, pressing herself closer to you, craving more of your touch.

You lift her shirt, revealing her bare chest, and your lips eagerly find their way to her exposed skin. The taste of her drives you wild, and you lose yourself in the moment, savoring every sweet and intoxicating sensation.

Your hands fly back to her waist, lifting her slightly as your lips trail to her stomach, leaving a trail of soft kisses along the way.

She lets out a soft moan, her fingers tangling in your hair as she surrenders to the pleasure coursing through her body. Tara's breath hitches when you stand up, picking her up with ease. You carry her effortlessly to the bedroom, her legs wrapped around your waist, her body pressed against yours.

One thing is, you don't make it to the bed. Tara's back is now pressed against a wall, her heart pounding in her chest. You lean in closer, capturing her lips with yours as your hands roam over her body. You couldn't get enough.

You flip Tara, pressing her against the wall with a newfound intensity. Tara gasp, her eyes rolling back in pleasure, feeling your strong grip on her hips and your lips trailing down her neck.

Your hands trail to her jeans button, fumbling to undo it as the passion between you increases. Tara's breath hitches as you slide down her pants, along with her underwear, exposing her bare skin to the cool air.

Without hesitating, you drop to your knees, eager to taste her. A loud slap is heard, followed by a gasp of surprise. Tara bites down on her lip, balling up her fist against the wall, feeling you spread her legs for better access.

You lean in closer, your tongue teasing her entrance as Tara's moans fill the room. Oh, shit. You were officially addicted to this girl. Every touch and every sound she made only fueled your obsession for her.

You couldn't get enough of the way she responded to your touch, her body arching and trembling with pleasure. Or the way she tasted, leaving a permanent mark on your tongue.

"Fuck..." Tara gasps, the side of her face flat against the wall as her hips buck against your mouth. You remove one of your hands from her ass, holding her hips steady as you continue to devour her.

Tara whines in response, reaching behind to tangle her fingers in your hair, urging you to keep going. Her moans grow louder, and her grip tightens. "I'm so close, shit..."

You intensify your movements, your tongue skillfully exploring every inch of her, pushing her closer to the edge. Tara's breath becomes ragged, you grip her with greater force, and she becomes more and more undone, on the brink of exploding in pleasure.

And just as she's about to tip over the edge, she lets out a guttural cry, her body convulsing in ecstasy.

"Y/N! Shit!"

You stand up, and Tara catches her breath, her body still trembling from the intense orgasm.

While Tara attempts to compose herself, you unbuckle your belt and slowly remove your pants and underwear, revealing your own heightened state of arousal.

Tara's eyes widen when she feels your intense desire pressing against her. You press a kiss onto her head, whispering, "I need you, Tara."

Tara turns her head, meeting you with a lustful gaze. Her lips parted slightly as she whispers, "I want you too, Y/N." You place a soft kiss on the freckled face that you've come to adore before taking yourself, rubbing against her in a slow, teasing motion.

Tara's wetness lubricates you, allowing you to slip right in with a breathful gasp. As you enter her, Tara arches her back and lets out a low moan, her body responding eagerly to your touch.

The feeling of her tightness around you heightens the nirvana, driving you both insane.

You pick up the pace, your hips meeting hers in a delicious rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through both of your bodies—a symphony of desire and passion.

Tara's arm reaches around, her nails dig into your neck while her moans grow louder and more desperate with every movement.

Tara's hand falls back against the wall as she braces herself against the overwhelming pleasure. Your own hand falls on top of hers, and for a second, Tara finds herself caught between the intensified sensations and the tender touch of your hand.

She exhales a breath of pleasure, and her eyes roll back in pleasure. You lean in to kiss her neck, and she moans in response. You move your lips down to her shoulder, leaving a trail of soft kisses along her skin. "You feel so good, T." You groan, your voice thick with please.

This time, without warning, Tara lets go, a long and loud moan escaping her lips as she arches her back in ecstasy.

She collapses against your chest, her eyes half closed, catching her breath as her body trembles with satisfaction. You hold her tightly, savoring the intimate moment shared between you both.

As you slowly untangle yourselves from the intimate embrace, Tara wraps her arms around your neck and plants a soft kiss on your lips.

You smile into it, placing a hand on the small of her back, pulling her closer. The lingering taste of her lips lingers on yours, igniting a drive for more.

Tara moves onto her knees with your help, never breaking eye contact. Her hand wraps around your pulsating shaft before she kisses the tip, her tongue swirling around it.

The sensation sends a jolt of pleasure through your body, making you moan softly. You grab Tara's hair, guiding her movements as she takes you deeper into her mouth. "That feels great, shit..." you mutter, throwing your head back.

Tara's expert tongue continues to work its wonders, teasing and exploring every inch of you.

You begin moving your hips in rhythm with Tara's movements, finding a steady and pleasurable pace.

The hallway fills with the sounds of your heavy breathing and the wet, persistent slurping of Tara's mouth. "Yeah...just like that, Tara."

Your grip on her hair tightens, urging her on as she eagerly takes you deeper, her eyes watering at the sensation. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. With a grunt, you cum hard, your body shuddering in pleasure as Tara's lips move over your shaft. She keeps sucking until you finally pull away, a satisfied smile on your face.

Tara can't help but think about how this night will shift your relationship. She wonders if this newfound intimacy will bring you closer or create complications that she didn't want to deal with. As you catch your breath, Tara's thoughts wander to the potential consequences of crossing this line.

Miller's Girl (2024) dir. Jade Bartlett

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

a cold reunion

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was winter break before she came back home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom,” her mother sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

-the door swung inwards.

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

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

You exhaled harshly, shoulders sagging with the movement.

“Want some tea?”

—---

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

And way too quiet for your liking.

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

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

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

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

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

“About that,” you hummed.

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

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

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

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

“Was she okay?”

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

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

You need to tell her.

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

She hummed for you to continue.

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

“Yeah, why?”

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

“You’re joking,” she said.

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

“You saw one?” She asked.

Oh. Oh, no, she didn’t get it.

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

“Then what are-” there it is “-oh.”

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

“How?” She asked.

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

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

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

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

“But it’s-”

“-I know, Astrid,” you interrupted.

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

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

If she wanted, of course.

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

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

“Caseworker?”

“It’s a long story.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t say it,” you whispered.

She nodded once, and you pulled your hand away.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“May I?” You asked again.

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

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

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

Oh no. It was the real deal.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Her smile was vicious. And attractive.

—---

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

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

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

Were you really that scary?

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

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

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

At least, you thought you did.

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

She hummed her confirmation.

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

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

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

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

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